The First American Army - Bruce Chadwick [178]
Lord Cornwallis was not with his men. The humiliated military leader, outwitted and outgeneraled yet again by George Washington, stayed in Yorktown and sent word to the Americans that he was “sick.” Someone had to surrender, so he told his blustery Irish general, Charles O’Hara, to do it (The unlucky O’Hara had been with Burgoyne at Saratoga, too). O’Hara then tried to surrender to Rochambeau to insult the Americans by pretending that the French alone had defeated the British. The French general would not talk to him and pointed across the road to Washington. O’Hara then tried to surrender to him, offering Cornwallis’s sword. The American commander would not accept the sword from a second in command, and told him to hand it to General Lincoln, sitting astride a horse next to him. O’Hara did so. Abiding by protocol, Lincoln, who himself had been forced to surrender his army at Charleston in 1780, touched the sword and handed it back to O’Hara.18
Some observers believed that many British soldiers had been drinking that day. Others said that their line of march was ragged and undisciplined and that even the sober men seemed wildly disoriented. A New Jersey officer standing near Joseph Martin may have put it best when he told those around him that “the British officers in general behaved like boys who had been whipped at school. Some bit their lips, some pouted, others cried. Their round, brimmed hats were well adapted to the occasion, hiding those faces they were ashamed to show.”19
Washington never said anything about Cornwallis’s refusal to lead his army out of Yorktown, but almost everyone in the American army chortled over his Lordship’s humbling. Dr. Thacher was one. The doctor, who always thought the British generals pompous, skewered Cornwallis. He wrote, “But there is no display of magnanimity when a great commander shrinks from the inevitable misfortunes of war; and when it is considered that Lord Cornwallis has frequently appeared in splendid triumph at the head of his army, by which he is almost adored, we conceive it incumbent on him cheerfully to participate in their misfortunes and degradations, however humiliating; but it is said he gives himself up entirely to vexation and despair.”20
News of the surrender thrilled America. Nearly five days later, the news arrived at 3 a.m. on October 24 in Philadelphia and by order of the president of Congress, Thomas McKean, men began to ring the Liberty Bell and kept ringing it until dawn. Thousands awakened by the pealing of the bell crowded into the streets with candles to celebrate the victory. In New Jersey, ministers of churches throughout the state ordered their bells to be rung most of the day. When the news reached Boston a day after that, the city was engulfed in wild celebrations and church bells rang for hours. In Fishkill, New York, residents enjoyed a daylong barbecue and at night celebrated with a huge bonfire and fireworks display.
Couriers rode as fast as their horses could carry them along New England highways, shouting, “Cornwallis is taken! Cornwallis is taken!” to anyone they passed. Villages through which they rode erupted in immediate celebrations that lasted all night. A special courier brought the news to Mount Vernon, where it was received with joy by Martha Washington and Henry Knox’s wife Lucy, preparing to give birth to her fourth child there.21
On the British side, one of the first to receive word of the defeat was Rear Admiral Samuel Hood, with