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By Root 1278 0

warships was required to maintain the flow of supplies up the Delaware River, and if the French attempted to blockade the waterway, the results could prove disastrous, not just to Howe in Philadelphia, but to Clinton’s forces in New York. From Newport to the Chesapeake there was simply not enough British shipping in American waters to protect itself, while also protecting the army. The ministry’s answer was to shift the entire focus of the war, from a land-based operation to a naval war. He stared at the table in front of him, reached for the half-empty wineglass, thought, The might of the British, conducting a war of plunder and arson. That’s all it will amount to, blockading and burning cities, from Charleston to Boston. No man who has ever been a soldier would agree to such conduct. What honor is there in a war waged from the safety of a ship, against an enemy who can evade you by moving himself a mile inland? What victory can be gained? Asinine!

He had heard of the debates in London, the king’s opposition launching an all-out assault against the continuation of the war. The rumors that France would enter the war had rattled the complacency of Parliament, men who might suddenly find their seaside estates under fire from French warships. The opposition leaders had introduced a measure to satisfy all demands of the colonies, to reverse all those policies that had inspired the war in the first place, granting the colonies every demand they had sought except outright independence. Even now, he thought, they are putting the absurd policy into action, a new peace commission, preparing to sail over here to . . . what? To pretend this army doesn’t even exist? To beg for mercy from that ridiculous congress? This is the cost, this is the price I must pay, the empire must pay for Burgoyne’s folly! It is not bad enough that he hurls himself into a wilderness he knows nothing about, that he relies on savages to guide him. Now, while his entire command is held prisoner in Boston, he is allowed to return to London and regale the Parliament with all the justifications for his failure. Certainly he is laying blame squarely at my feet. It is his nature, his very character to cast fault in every direction. How am I to defend myself from so far away? Who will speak for me? My wife?

He had received a letter from his wife, Frances, that she had indeed petitioned the ministry to give him a fair hearing, not to toss away his career solely on the words of John Burgoyne. It was an embarrassment to him, made worse when he learned that his mother, Dowager Countess Howe, had joined in the campaign. We go to war, and it is our women who must do the fighting. Well, my dear, you are not so well informed. I have already sought my relief from this unfortunate predicament. If anyone is to speak on my behalf, it must surely be me. But first, I must be allowed to leave this infernal place.

The wave of sniping at his command had begun to reach him only a few weeks after he occupied Philadelphia. News of his victory at Germantown had been received in London with a far different eye than he expected. It was not seen as a victory at all, but another example of his own failure, the opinions voiced loudly in the Parliament that Howe had allowed the rebels to escape yet again. His critics had now become his enemies, their hostility so infecting the ministry that Germain had subtly stripped him of independence. It was not formal, nothing so humiliating. But Howe could feel Germain’s intrusions, the increasing flow of dispatches, less of the counseling and more direct instruction. Germain had always given priority to Howe’s own strategies, but that had changed. Now the orders were distinct and intrusive and left no room for discussion. With Burgoyne clawing at him as well, Howe had no choice. He could neither defend himself nor command as long as he was in America. The only alternative was to offer his resignation. His brother had done the same, a show of family unity. But Howe knew he was the target, not the admiral. All that remained was the word from Germain.