ise
my voice against the dismemberment of this ancient and noble monarchy!
My lords, his Majesty succeeded to an empire as vast in extent as proud
in reputation. Shall we tarnish its lustre by a shameful abandonment of
its rights and of its fairest possessions? Shall this great kingdom,
which survived in its entirety the descents of the Danes, the incursions
of the Scots, the conquest of the Normans, which stood firm against the
threatened invasion of the Spanish Armada, now fall before the House of
Bourbon? Surely, my lords, we are not what we once were! . . . In
God's name, if it be absolutely necessary to choose between peace and
war, if peace cannot be preserved with honor, why not declare war without
hesitation? . . . My lords, anything is better than despair; let us
at least make an effort, and, if we must fail, let us fail like men!"

He dropped back into his seat, exhausted, gasping. Soon he strove to
rise and reply to the Duke of Richmond, but his strength was traitor to
his courage, he fainted; a few days later he was dead (May 11th, 1778);
the resolution' of the Duke of Richmond had been rejected.

When this news arrived in America, Washington was seriously uneasy.
He had to keep up an incessant struggle against the delays and the
jealousies of Congress; it was by dint of unheard-of efforts and of
unwavering perseverance that he succeeded in obtaining the necessary
supplies for his army. "To see men without clothes to cover their
nakedness," he exclaimed, "without blankets to lie upon, without victuals
and often without shoes (for you might follow their track by the blood
that trickled from their feet), advancing through ice and snow, and
taking up their winter-quarters, at Christmas, less than a day's march
from the enemy, in a place where they have not to shelter them either
houses or huts but such as they have thrown up themselves,--to see these
men doing all this without a murmur, is an exhibition of patience and
obedience such as the world has rarely seen."

As a set-off against the impassioned devotion of the patriots, Washington
knew that the loyalists were still numerous and powerful; the burden of
war was beginning to press heavily upon the whole country, he feared some
act of weakness. "Let us accept nothing short of Independence," he wrote
at once to his friends: "we can never forget the outrages to which Great
Britain has made us--submit; a peace on any other conditions would be a