Washington [231]
On May 6, with his fondness for pageantry, George Washington staged a celebration of the French treaties, beginning with mustering brigades at nine A.M. The treaties were solemnly read aloud, followed by the firing of thirteen cannon. The infantry then fired their muskets in sequence, a feu de joie that swept the double rows of soldiers, who chanted with gusto, “Long Live the King of France.”58 French officers were embraced everywhere. Steuben showed off the crack precision of his men, who strutted smartly before a beaming Washington. As a reward, Steuben was appointed inspector general with the rank of major general. “Through it all,” John Laurens told his father, Washington “wore a countenance of uncommon delight.”59 This was more than a celebration of the French treaties; it was a day of thanksgiving for surviving the horrid winter. In a dreamlike transformation, the officers now partook of a bountiful alfresco dinner. “Fifteen hundred persons sat down to the tables, which were spread in the open air,” said General Johann de Kalb. “Wine, meats, and liquors abounded, and happiness and contentment were impressed on every countenance.”60 Washington even played cricket with younger officers. When he rode off contentedly at five o’clock, his men clapped their hands, cheered “Long live George Washington!” and twirled a thousand hats in the air.61 Washington and his aides kept stopping and looking back, sending huzzahs in return.
It was Washington’s nature to ponder the darker side of things, and that night he sent out special patrols to guard the camp, lest the enemy try to exploit the festivities, as Washington had done with the Hessians on Christmas Night in 1776. The sudden turn of events both emboldened him and made him cautious. Although he thought the French alliance would tip the scales and that things were now “verging fast to a favorable issue,” he fretted that this bonanza might breed overconfidence.62 In the short run, although it yielded no immediate benefits, the French alliance was an immense tonic to American spirits. Not until midsummer would France be officially at war with England, and in the meantime the Continental Army fended as best it could against a newly alarmed British Empire.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The Long Retreat
THE FIRST CASUALTY the French alliance claimed was General William Howe, who informed his troops that spring of his imminent departure for England after a winter of fun and revelry in Philadelphia. He was replaced by General Henry Clinton, who at first glance scarcely projected a heroic image. A lonely widower, Clinton was a short man with a low, balding brow and dark eyebrows; in one image, his hooked nose and large jaw looked much too massive for his tiny face. The entire effect might have been unappealing, were it not for the kindly, intelligent expression in his eyes. If he could be rash, quarrelsome, and hypersensitive, Clinton also had a long and distinguished military record, including early service in a New York militia and a stint in the Coldstream Guards. For his valorous leadership at New York in 1776, he was decorated as a Knight of the Bath. Six months earlier George Washington had expressed contempt for Clinton when he referred to his “diabolical designs” in a letter to a Virginia friend.1
France’s entry into the war would precipitate a radical shift in British strategy. Both empires controlled lucrative islands in the West Indies, whose vast sugar and cotton slave plantations had yielded considerable