CHAPTER XXXII - FRENCH ALLIANCE,

199.

1778-1779

A Treaty with France (1778)

BY COMMISSIONER BENJAMIN FRANKLIN

This letter, addressed to Thomas Cushing, is a brief announcement of the conclusion of negotiations that began with the sending of Silas Deane to France in 1775. The treaties continued in force till the war with France in 1798.- For Franklin, see Nos. 68, 81 above. - Bibliography of the treaties: Winsor, Narrative and Critical History, VII, ch. i; Wharton, Diplomatic Correspondence, II, 490, 568-578; Channing and Hart, Guide, § 139. — For later French relations, see chs. xxxiv, xxxv below.

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I

Passy, 21 February, 1778. RECEIVED your favor by Mr. Austin, with your most agreeable congratulations on the success of the American arms in the Northern Department. In return, give me leave to congratulate you on the success of our negotiations here, in the completion of the two treaties with his most Christian Majesty: the one of amity and commerce, on the plan of that proposed by Congress, with some good additions; the other of alliance for mutual defence, in which the most Christian king agrees to make a common cause with the United States, if England attempts to obstruct the commerce of his subjects with them; and guarantees to the United States their liberty, sovereignty, and independence, absolute and unlimited, with all the possessions they now have, or may have, at the conclusion of the war; and the States in return guarantee to him his possessions in the West Indies. The great principle in both treaties is a perfect equality and reciprocity; no advantage to be demanded by France, or privileges in commerce, which the States may not grant to any and every other nation.

In short, the king has treated with us generously and magnanimously; taken no advantage of our present difficulties, to exact terms which we would not willingly grant, when established in prosperity and power. I may add that he has acted wisely, in wishing the friendship contracted by these treaties may be durable, which probably might not be if a contrary conduct had taken place.

Several of the American ships, with stores for the Congress, are now about sailing under the convoy of a French squadron. England is in great consternation, and the minister, on the 17th instant confessing that all his measures had been wrong and that peace was necessary, proposed two bills for quieting America; but they are full of artifice and deceit, and will, I am confident, be treated accordingly by our country.

I think you must have much satisfaction in so valuable a son, whom I wish safe back to you, and am, with great esteem, etc.,

B. FRANKLIN.

P. S. The treaties were signed by the plenipotentiaries on both sides February 6th, but are still for some reasons kept secret, though soon to be published. It is understood that Spain will soon accede to the same. The treaties are forwarded to Congress by this conveyance. Benjamin Franklin, Complete Works (edited by John Bigelow, New York, etc., 1888), VI, 131-134.

200. A Dashing Young Officer in the Field (1778) BY COLONEL JOHN TRUMBULL (1841)

Trumbull, the son of the governor of Connecticut, became an artist, and painted some of the pictures now in the Capitol at Washington. - Bibliography of the Rhode Island campaigns: Winsor, Narrative and Critical History, VI, 592-603; Channing and Hart, Guide, § 138. — On the army, see ch. xxviii above.

IN

N the year 1778, a plan was formed for the recovery of Rhode Island from the hands of the British, by the coöperation of a French fleet. of twelve sail of the line, commanded by the Count D'Estaing, and a body of American troops, commanded by General Sullivan. The fleet arrived off New York early in July, and in August sailed for Rhode Island. I seized this occasion to gratify my slumbering love of military life, and offered my services to General Sullivan, as a volunteer aid-ducamp. My offer was accepted, and I attended him during the enterprise.

The French fleet, which had passed Newport, and lay at anchor above the town, were drawn off from their well selected station by a clever manœuvre of Lord Howe, the very day after the American army had landed on the island. The two fleets came to a partial action off the capes of the Chesapeake, in which they were separated by a severe gale

of wind; the French, more damaged by the tempest than by the enemy, put into Boston to refit, and General Sullivan was left to pursue the enterprise with the army alone. The enemy shut themselves up in Newport, while he advanced to the town in admirable order, and the place was invested in form.

It soon became evident that the attempt was vain, so long as the enemy could receive supplies and reinforcements by water, unmolested ; so soon as it was ascertained that the French fleet would not resume its station, the enterprise was abandoned — on the night between the 28th and 29th of August, the army was withdrawn, and reoccupied their former position on Butts' Hill, near Howland's ferry, at the north end of the island.

Soon after daybreak the next morning, the rear-guard, commanded by that excellent officer, Col. Wigglesworth, was attacked on Quaker, otherwise called Windmill Hill; and Gen. Sullivan, wishing to avoid a serious action on that ground, sent me with orders to the commanding officer to withdraw the guard. In performing this duty, I had to mount the hill by a broad smooth road, more than a mile in length from the foot to the summit, where was the scene of the conflict, which, though an easy ascent, was yet too steep for a trot or a gallop. It was necessary to ride at a leisurely pace, for I saw before me a hard day's work for my horse, and was unwilling to fatigue him.

Nothing can be more trying to the nerves, than to advance thus deliberately and alone into danger. At first, I saw a round shot or two drop near me and pass bounding on. Presently I met poor Col. Tousard, who had just lost one arm, blown off by the discharge of a field piece, for the possession of which there was an ardent struggle. He was led off by a small party. Soon after, I saw Capt. Walker, of H. Jackson's regiment, who had received a musket ball through his body, mounted behind a person on horseback. He bid me a melancholy farewell, and died before night. Next, grape shot began to sprinkle around me, and soon after musket balls fell in my path like hailstones. This was not to be borne, — I spurred on my horse to the summit of the hill, and found myself in the midst of the melée. "Don't say a word, Trumbull," cried the gallant commander, "I know your errand, but don't speak; we will beat them in a moment." "Col. Wigglesworth, do you see those troops crossing obliquely from the west road towards your rear?" "Yes, they are Americans, coming to our support." 'No, sir, those are Germans; mark, their dress is blue and yellow, not buff; they are

moving to fall into your rear, and intercept your retreat. Retire instantly - don't lose a moment, or you will be cut off." The gallant man obeyed reluctantly, and withdrew the guard in fine style, slowly but safely.

This was a source "If this had hap

As I rode back to the main body on Butts' Hill, I fell in with a party of soldiers bearing a wounded officer on a litter, whom I found to be my friend, H. Sherburne, brother of Mrs. John Langdon of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, a fellow volunteer. They were carrying him to the surgeons in the rear, to have his leg amputated. He had just been wounded by a random ball while sitting at breakfast. of lasting mortification, as he told me afterwards, pened to me in the field, in active duty, the loss of a leg might be borne, but to be condemned through all future life to say I lost my leg under the breakfast table, is too bad." Mr. Rufus King was acting that day as a volunteer aid-du-camp to General Glover, whose quarters were in a house at the foot and east of Quaker Hill, distant from the contested position of the rear-guard a long mile. The general and the officers who composed his family were seated at breakfast, their horses standing saddled at the door. The firing on the height of the hill became heavy and incessant, when the general directed Mr. King to mount and see what and where the firing was. He quitted the table, poor Sherburne took his chair, and was hardly seated, when a spent cannon ball from the scene of action bounded in at the open window, fell upon the floor, rolled to its destination, the ancle of Sherburne, and crushed all the bones of his foot. Surely there is a providence which controls the events of human life, and which withdrew Mr. King from this misfortune.

rest of the day, -mounted

field

-

- with this head

Soon after this, as I was carrying an important order, the wind, which had risen with the sun, blew off my hat. It was not a time to dismount for a hat. I therefore tied a white handkerchief round my head, and as I did not recover my hat until evening, I formed, the the most conspicuous mark that ever was seen on the on a superb bay horse, in a summer dress of nankeen dress, duty led me to every point where danger was to be found, and I escaped without the slightest injury. It becomes me to say with the Psalmist, "I thank thee, Oh thou Most High, for thou hast covered my head in the day of battle!" For never was aid-du-camp exposed to more danger than I was during that entire day, from daylight to dusk. The day was passed in skirmishing, and towards evening a body of

the enemy (Germans) had pushed our right wing, and advanced so far as to endanger themselves. I was ordered to take Gen. Lovell's brigade of Massachusetts militia, and aid in repulsing them . . . . I therefore moved on until the front division of the column was within ten yards of the wall, and then gave the word of command as if on parade, "Column, halt-leading division, ground your arms step forward, comrades, and level this fence, it stands in our way-quick, quick!" The order was obeyed with precision; the fence was leveled in an instant, and we resumed our forward march without having a man hurt. From that moment the firing from the wood ceased, and we could find no enemy; they had been already engaged with, and overmatched by other troops, before we approached, and when they saw our cool manoeuvre, they probably mistook us for veterans coming to the rescue, and prudently withdrew.

Still I hoped to be able to strike an important blow, and requested General Lovell to incline his march to the right, (by which means his movement would be screened from the view of the enemy by the form of the ground,) to move slowly and carefully, and to keep the men together in their actual order. I rode forward to reconnoitre and ascertain the position of the enemy. As I rose the crest of the hill, I saw the German troops, who had just been repulsed, in evident disorder, endeavoring to re-form their line, but fatigued, disconcerted and vacillating. I thought it a glorious moment, and hurried back to my brave column with the intention of leading it (under cover of the ground) into the rear of the enemy's flank. Judge of my vexation, when I found my men, not in slow motion and good order, as I had directed, but halted behind another strong fence, dispersed, without the shadow of order, their arms grounded, or leaning against the fence, exulting in their good conduct and success in having made the enemy run. I was cruelly disappointed; but as the success of the blow which I had meditated depended entirely upon rapidity of movement, and much time must be wasted before we could recover our original order and be prepared to move, I gave up my projected attack, and returned to make my report to my general.

John Trumbull, Autobiography, Reminiscences and Letters [1756–1841], (New York, etc., 1841), 51–56 passim.