My heart tells me, that it has been my
unremitted aim to do the best that circumstances would permit; yet
I may have been very often mistaken in my judgment of the means,
and may in many instances deserve the imputation of error. (Valley
Forge, 31 January, 1778.)[1]
[Footnote 1: Ford, vi, 353.]
Such was the sort of explanation which was wrung from the Silent Man
when he explained to an intimate the secrets of his heart.
To estimate the harassing burden of these plots we must bear in mind
that, while Washington had to suffer them in silence, he had also to
deal every day with the Congress and with an army which, at Valley
Forge, was dying slowly of cold and starvation. There was literally no
direction from which he could expect help; he must hold out as long as
he could and keep from the dwindling, disabled army the fact that some
day they would wake up to learn that the last crumb had been eaten
and that death only remained for them. On one occasion, after he had
visited Philadelphia and had seen the Congress in action, he unbosomed
himself about it in a letter which contained these terrible words:
If I was to be called upon to draw a picture of the times and of
men, from what I have seen, and heard, and in part know, I should
in one word say that idleness, dissipation and extravagance
seems to have laid fast hold of most of them.
Pages:
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129