olution, "what held
the patriot forces together?" asks Beveridge in his _Life of John
Marshall_. Then he answers: "George Washington and he alone. Had he
died or been seriously disabled, the Revolution would have ended....
Washington was the soul of the American cause. Washington was the
government. Washington was the Revolution." The weakness of Congress in
furnishing men and supplies, the indolence of civilians, who lived at
ease while the army starved, the intrigues of army officers against him
such as the "Conway cabal," the cowardice of Lee at Monmouth, even the
treason of Benedict Arnold, while they stirred deep emotions in his
breast and aroused him to make passionate pleas to his countrymen, did
not shake his iron will or his firm determination to see the war through
to the bitter end. The weight of Washington's moral force was
immeasurable.

Of the generals who served under him, none can really be said to have
been experienced military men when the war opened. Benedict Arnold, the
unhappy traitor but brave and daring soldier, was a druggist, book
seller, and ship owner at New Haven when the news of Lexington called
him to battle. Horatio Gates was looked upon as a "seasoned soldier"
because he had entered the British army as a youth, had been wounded at
Braddock's memorable defeat, and had served with credit during the Seven
Years' War; but he was the most conspicuous failure of the Revolution.
The triumph over Burgoyne was the work of other men; and his crushing
defeat at Camden put an end to his military pretensions. Nathanael
Greene was a Rhode Island farmer and smith without military experience
who, when convinced that war was coming, read Caesar's _Commentaries_ and
took up the sword. Francis Marion was a shy and modest planter of South
Carolina whose sole passage at arms had been a brief but desperate brush
with the Indians ten or twelve years earlier. Daniel Morgan, one of the
heroes of Cowpens, had been a teamster with Braddock's army and had seen
some fighting during the French and Indian War, but his military
knowledge, from the point of view of a trained British officer, was
negligible. John Sullivan was a successful lawyer at Durham, New
Hampshire, and a major in the local militia when duty summoned him to
lay down his briefs and take up the sword. Anthony Wayne was a
Pennsylvania farmer and land surveyor who, on hearing the clash of arms,
read a few books on war, raised a regiment, and offered hims