him at once into furious
opposition, and caused him to impart to the faction a cohesion and
vigor which they had before lacked. Circumstances favored them. The
victory at Saratoga gave them something tangible to go upon, and the
first move was made when Gates failed to inform Washington of the
surrender, and then held back the troops sent for so urgently by the
commander-in-chief, who had sacrificed so much from his own army to
secure that of the north.

At this very moment, indeed, when Washington was calling for troops,
he was struggling with the utmost tenacity to hold control of the
Delaware. He made every arrangement possible to maintain the forts,
and the first assaults upon them were repulsed with great slaughter,
the British in the attack on Fort Mercer losing Count Donop, the
leader, and four hundred men. Then came a breathing space, and then
the attacks were renewed, supported by vessels, and both forts were
abandoned after the works had been leveled to the ground by the
enemy's fire. Meanwhile Hamilton, sent to the north, had done his
work; Gates had been stirred, and Putnam, well-meaning but stubborn,
had been sharply brought to his bearings. Reinforcements had come, and
Washington meditated an attack on Philadelphia. There was a good deal
of clamor for something brilliant and decisive, for both the army and
the public were a little dizzy from the effects of Saratoga, and with
sublime blindness to different conditions, could not see why the same
performance should not be repeated to order everywhere else. To oppose
this wish was trying, doubly trying to a man eager to fight, and with
his full share of the very human desire to be as successful as his
neighbor. It required great nerve to say No; but Washington did not
lack that quality, and as general and statesman he reconnoitred the
enemy's works, weighed the chances, said No decisively, and took up an
almost impregnable position at White Marsh. Thereupon Howe announced
that he would drive Washington beyond the mountains, and on December
4 he approached the American lines with this highly proper purpose.
There was some skirmishing along the foot of the hills of an
unimportant character, and on the third day Washington, in high
spirits, thought an attack would be made, and rode among the soldiers
directing and encouraging them. Nothing came of it, however, but more
skirmishing, and the next day Howe marched back to Philadelphia. He
had offered battle in all