State of the case.
On reviewing our history for the past four months, and comparing it with similar crises in the both of our own revolution and those of other nations, we feel surprised that the
Yankees should feel any great degree of exultation, and that there should be any, even the smallest, depression on the part of the
South.
Almost at the commencement of the war with
Great Britain--in December, 76--the
American army, under the orders of
Putnam, was attacked on
Long Island by an over whelming force of British regulars.
Its flank was completely turned, a large body made prisoners, and, driven to their works, the panic stricken remnant would have been put to the sword or compelled to surrender, had the
British General allowed his troops to indulge the ardent, desire which they had to carry the defences by storm.
Providence seemed to have interposed at the propitious moment to stay the hand of the victor.
Instead of assaulting, he made his men camp on the ground; the opportunity was lost,
Washington carried the whole force over in the night, and the advantage could never be recovered.
But the
Americans lost 3,000 men killed, wounded, and prisoners, at a time when they had not twenty thousand in the field in all parts of the country.
This disaster was infinitely greater than any our arms have yet met with.
But
Washington was not dismayed — he knew that the country was with him — and he felt that a whole people fighting for their liberties are invincible.
In a few weeks after, he lost a garrison on the
North river, of 2,500 men. --Still calm and imperturbable, he retired through New,
Jersey, with three thousand ragged, half-starved and badly armed militia, pursued by an army of British and Hessians, numbering 25,000.
At last the tide began to turn.
He attacked and captured the Hessians at
Trenton, and one week after, defeated the
English at
Princeton.
He plucked safety even from defeat.
He made his very reverses conduce to his victory; for his enemy would never have exposed himself as he did, had he not believed him no longer capable of molesting him. To such an extent was this confidence indulged in, that Lord Cornwallis wrote to
General Howe, but a day or two before the
battle of Trenton, ‘"I will engage to keep the peace
Jersey with a corporal's guard."’
Again: When
Sir Henry Clinton captured
Charleston, he made prisoners of the whole American army.
The American General,
Lincoln, had made the fate of the campaign turn on the possession of that city.--This policy was condemned by
Col. Tarleton in his ‘"campaigns, "’ as the height of folly.--He should, said that officer, have left
Charleston to its fate, and retired to the country, whence he could have kept up such a war as
Washington waged upon the
North river and the
Delaware.
Unquestionably, that was the true doctrine.
Lincoln surrendered nearly six thousand men, very nearly the same number captured at
Fort Donelson.
But mark the difference.
We have nearly half a million in the field; the revolutionists of that day not above the tenth part of the number.
They lost a full ninth of their entire force; we less than the ninetieth part of ours.
Yet the people of that day were in no wise disheartened.
Why, then, should we be?
The defeat of
Gates at
Camden, shortly after, cost us two thousand men more, or about one twenty-fifth part of all we had. The affair at
Roanoke Island cost us about the same number of men, being not more than one two-hundred and fiftieth part of those we have in the field.
Let Southern men take courage, then.
We have hardly been trenched — the skin has hardly been graved — our great armies are yet in the field.
They must beat them, and then the guerilla warriors springing from their remains, before they can boast of subduing us. It is not in the capacity of man — certainly not in the
Yankee variety of the species — to subjugate us.
