Horace Wemyss Smith

In the first part of your late publication, which is no less an invective against me, than it is a defence of yourself, you have, with sufficient art, insisted on my remarkably contentious, factious,[D] and jealous spirit, which suffers no man, undisturbed, to enjoy his well-earned fame; a circumstance in my character you expected to derive considerable benefit from in the controversy between us. For this point being once gained, every suggestion, every article of charge against you, which has its foundation and support in me, would naturally be referred to those fierce and malignant passions you have so unsparingly bestowed on me, and no longer rest upon the general credit and reputation I trust I have acquired and maintained. But as I cannot, without injustice to myself, make this concession to you, I must declare my general tenor of conduct to have been far otherwise,—that in my private life I have been at peace and harmony with all mankind; and in my public, at enmity only with such public men as have disgraced their country by their vices or injured it by their crimes.

Wherein until the present, except in a single instance, have I drawn the public attention by attacks upon the character of any man? and that instance, an impostor, like yourself, who had got into a seat of honor. In this, it was virtue to become his accuser.

If you rely upon your instance, as affording a proof of my eagerness for controversy, it will not answer your purpose. I have not brought you to the public bar; for, whatever was the amount of your offences, I neither urged nor wished a public inquiry; another has brought you there, and I appear only as a witness against you, challenged and defied by yourself.

This being premised, I shall enter upon my subject, and reply to such parts of your pamphlet as respect me, and therefore specially concern me to notice.

Your remarks, you say, are with propriety addressed to me; because though not the actual author, it is to me you are really indebted for the insidious attempt on your reputation.

That the public may have the most authentic proofs of the manner in which I have been involved in this controversy, I think it necessary here to insert the original letters that passed in the course of our correspondence, last fall, on this subject.

Sir,—I have, for a long time, treated the anonymous abuse which disgraces our public papers with the contempt it deserves. But in Oswald's paper, of last Saturday, are a set of queries, signed Brutus, in which the author, not daring to make an open assertion, has insinuated, that in 1776 I meditated a desertion to the enemy. Though my soul rises with indignation at the infamous slander, I should treat it with scorn, if it did not seem to deserve some credit from a reference to you. Prejudiced, as I know you are, I should be sorry to suppose you capable of propagating such a sentiment, or decline the opportunity of doing justice to my character, and in some degree your own. And this for two reasons: first, the gross falsehood of the insinuation; and, secondly, to preserve a consistency in your own character, which must suffer from your placing such confidence in me, with respect to the military operations of that period, and permitting General Washington to do the same, after such a conversation as these queries suppose. I need make no apology, in this case, for requesting an immediate answer,—and am, sir,

Your obedient humble servant,
JOSEPH REED.

Market Street, Sept. 9, 1782.
Gen. Cadwalader.

Sir,—In answer to your letter, which I received last evening by Mr. Ingersoll, relating to queries published in Mr. Oswald's paper of last Saturday, signed Brutus, I can assure you, (as I did Mr. Ingersoll,) that I am not the author of that publication; nor have I published one single word, since I came from Maryland, relating to the politics of this state; yet my character has, unprovoked, been traduced by you, or some of your friends. But, sir, I have repeatedly mentioned the substance of those queries to individuals immediately after the conversation alluded to happened; and since that time in many mixed companies. As charges of the same nature had some time since been made against you, to which you never made a reply, the world very justly concluded they were true; especially as the rank and character of the person who made the charge (at that time) merited your notice. From this circumstance, it occasioned an additional surprise, that you should, in this instance, undertake to investigate the matter, and declare in your letter to me, that the "insinuation" was "a gross falsehood." I therefore now assert, that in a conversation with you at the time and place mentioned in the above publication, signed Brutus, that you expressed the substance, and I think the very words, contained in the queries. If my character for veracity wanted credit with the world, one or two other gentlemen could be named, who, at nearly the same time, heard expressions from you, which created in them sentiments unfavourable to your character. You seem to insinuate that there is an inconsistency in my conduct, because I afterwards reposed a confidence in you, and because I permitted General Washington to do the same. It would have been very dangerous, at that critical period, to have exposed your weakness and timidity to the militia, as such an example might have been attended with the most fatal consequences to our cause. And as your conduct, upon this occasion, appeared to me to proceed from want of fortitude, and not the baser motives,—and as from the observations I made to you at the time, you seemed to resume more spirited sentiments in conversation, as well as from political motives, I continued to show an appearance of confidence, and concluded it best not to mention it to the General. The successes that soon followed gave a happy turn to our affairs, and thus, you, (with many others,) appeared to possess firmness in prosperity who had shown a want of it in times of imminent danger.

If your conduct in civil life had been such as could have been approved of, former transactions might have been buried in oblivion. But when I see a man endeavouring to injure the reputation of those, whose principles and conduct, from the beginning of the contest, have been uniformly exerted to obtain those ends intended by the revolution; and when he denies all merit to those who are not equally violent with himself, it is difficult to be silent.

I am, sir, your obedient servant,
Philadelphia, 10th Sept., 1782.JOHNCADWALADER.

General Reed.

Philadelphia, Sept. 10, 1782.

Sir,—After waiting some time, and being just about to set off for Bucks, I received your letter of this morning, and am at a loss which to admire most, the depravity of your heart, or the weakness of your understanding. Your quoting General Arnold's testimony to vindicate your own falsehood is perfectly consistent. You shall hear further from me on my return from Bucks. In the mean time, I have made inquiry of Messrs. T. Smith and Shippen, whom you mentioned to Mr. Ingersoll as hearing from you sentiments similar to those in the queries, with a view of communicating them to me; which they never did, because they deny the least recollection of any such information; which must have been too striking to them, and interesting to me, to have passed unnoticed. Your talent for invention is also displayed on this occasion most probably.

Whatever you may suppose, several of my friends well know, that I have been anxious to trace some loose reports that I had heard, which your residence in Maryland, and the improbability of your saying such things, had induced me to neglect.

As to your insinuation of my writing against you in the newspapers, or its being done with my privity, it is equally groundless with all the rest. I have not wrote in the newspapers for a long time, nor at any time in my life respecting you.

I am, sir, your very humble servant,
GeneralCadwalader.JOSEPHREED.

To General Reed.

Sir,—I shall make no reply, at this time, to the expressions contained in your letter of the 10th inst.; but as you inform me that you are on the point of setting off for Bucks, I do not think it incumbent on me to remain here until you return, especially as I informed Mr. Ingersoll, that I intended leaving town as soon as the dust was laid, and wished you to take your measures as soon as possible, as I should make my arrangements accordingly. Some of my servants are gone, and I have every thing packed up; it will, therefore, be very inconvenient to detain my family, as you do not mention when you purpose returning. As you say I shall hear from you on your return from Bucks, I must inform you, that the post leaves this city for the Eastern Shore every Wednesday, at three o'clock; be pleased to direct to me, in Kent County, Maryland, to be left at Stewart's. You shall have my answer by the return of the post, or if necessary, I shall attend in person for further investigation.

I am, sir, your obedient servant,
Philadelphia, 12th Sept.,1782.JOHNCADWALADER.

Sir,—Mr. Clymer delivered me your letter of the 12th instant. Your sudden departure from this city was indeed unexpected,—your declaration to Mr. Ingersoll not implying it to be so very soon;[E] and I should have supposed that my letter of the 10th, would have some weight to protract your journey. Before I received yours of the 10th, I had prepared a small publication, which the receipt of your letter did not influence me to alter or delay; as no signature could change the nature of things, and make falsehood truth, or truth falsehood. Having there declared the insinuation in Oswald's paper of the 7th instant to be false, I now apply the same epithet to your avowal of them; and am sorry, though not surprised, that your violence of temper should have occasioned such a deviation from the line of veracity so essential to the character of a gentleman.

I am already possessed of sundry authentic documents; a few days will complete them,—not to show my innocence,—the improbability of your charge, and inconsistency of your own conduct, making that unnecessary; but to show to what lengths a rancorous heart, puffed up by sudden and accidental wealth, can push a man of weak judgment and ungovernable passions.

I need not give you my address, though I think it incumbent on me to assure you, that if by investigation you mean a personal interview, I will endeavour to make it as convenient as possible, and will shorten the distance between us.

I am, sir, your obedient humble servant,
Philadelphia, 23d Sept.,1782.JOSEPHREED.

General Cadwalader.

Maryland, 30th September, 1782.

Sir,—I received yours of the 23d inst. by the post. From the style of your first letter, (9th Sept.) in which you required an "immediate answer," I fully expected an immediate interview. As you declined the interview I proposed through Mr. Ingersoll, and left town the next morning, without saying when you proposed returning, and having determined not to "alter or delay" the "small publication," which you "had prepared before the receipt of my first letter,"—I am at a loss to know what could have occasioned your surprise at my departure, before your return from Bucks. After having promised to the public the most satisfactory proofs, that no such conversation as alluded to in the queries ever passed, it was reasonable to allow you some time to prepare your "authentic document." Your last letter (23d Sept) informs that they were not then completed. And could you reasonably expect that I should have remained in town till this is completed? or could you suppose I would suffer your publication, worked up, as it no doubt will be, with all the cunning and misrepresentation you are master of, to pass unanswered? As you have protracted this affair by your engagement to the public, I shall not put it in the power of accident to deprive me of the opportunity of laying the facts I am possessed of open to public view. The question will then be, whether what I have avowed is true? My wealth, judgment, or passions, can have no influence, either way, with impartial men. My own character, the character of others concerned, and all the circumstances combined, will determine the judgment of the public. This business being ended, an interview may reasonably be expected.

I am, sir, your humble servant,
Gen. Reed,Philadelphia.JOHNCADWALADER.

Having for several years given over every expectation of seeing those changes made in the constitution of Pennsylvania, which I have ever thought necessary to secure that happiness and liberty intended by the revolution, I retired, and have never since even expressed my sentiments concerning the politics of this state, except among my particular friends. Your vexatious administration hath furnished an example, to what a dangerous length the authority of government may be carried under such a constitution.

The particular circumstances of my family made it necessary to spend a few months in this city, last summer, without an intention of taking up my residence here till the conclusion of the war; and though I never interfered in politics here, except among my particulr[TN] friends, I was attacked, in the public papers, by a party blindly devoted to you and your measures; I made no reply, from a confidence that such intimations could not injure me with those whose good opinion I regarded. But whether a friend published the piece signed Brutus, in the mere spirit of retaliation, or whether it was calculated for political purposes, at the last election, let the author determine. The conversation, alluded to in the queries, was known to many long before that period; among whom were some of your friends, in proof of which I offer Mr. Prior's certificate.[F]

Having mentioned the conversation publicly, those who heard it were certainly at liberty to make what use of it they saw proper.

Being entrusted with the command of the militia and a New England brigade, which lay at Bristol in December, 1776, I had permission from the Commander-in-chief to make an attack on the enemy, whenever I thought it could be done with success; I was prepared on the evening of the 22d December, to attempt the enemy's post, above the Black Horse, with seven hundred men; and about nine or ten o'clock, P. M., I received a letter from the general, requesting, if the enterprise was not too far advanced, to lay it aside, as he intended a general attack on the enemy's posts in a few days. From this circumstance, it appears, that the general gave me the information relating to the intended attack, the evening before you received his letter of the 23d December, in which the precise time was fixed. As he knew my intention to command the party myself, and therefore I might not be at Bristol the next day, this will account for his letter, of the 23d being directed to you. But here you mean to convey an idea that a preference in this communication was intended to you, though he had given me, in effect, the same information the evening before. This, too, you adduce as a proof of the general's "unbounded confidence in you," and you say you were sent by General Washington for the "express purpose of assisting me;" and "whatever my abilities were, that I had less experience of actual service than you had,—that you were received with cool civility, and very few marks of private attention;" though you acknowledge that I, at the same time, consulted you without reserve on our "military affairs." I will admit, that your opportunities of acquiring experience were greater than mine; and considering the extensive command I then had, (which was in number nearly equal to the force under the immediate command of General Washington,) I should have thought it no reflection on my abilities; nor would it have hurt my feelings, if an officer of superior abilities and rank had been sent to take the command,—or even an inferior officer to assist me. But whether your appointment was of the mere motion of the commander-in-chief, or at your instance, (for assisting me or other purposes,) may at least become a question.

That I received you "with cool civility, and very few marks of private attention," I do not remember; but to give what you mean to convey its full force, I will not hesitate to acknowledge it in its fullest extent; as you have granted, that I consulted "without reserve on our military affairs." In this instance, the world will do me justice, as it appears that I did not suffer personal dislike to interfere with public duty.

Though the world have little to do with the causes of private animosities, I shall think myself perfectly excusable, here to say a few words on this subject, as you have assigned causes for the interruption of our intimacy different from the true ones, and with a view of creating prejudices against me.

I acknowledge that such intimacy subsisted between us in early life, and you malignantly date its "dissolution" at the time of my sudden accession of fortune as owing thereto. If I were to admit, that you could properly date this breach from the moment you mention, I flatter myself, you would find it very difficult to persuade those who know me, to believe that to be the true cause. But this was really not the fact. The unworthy measures you took to evade the payment, (till compelled by a judgment of the court,) of Mr. Porter's order on you in favor of my brother and myself, which you had accepted, (to be paid out of a bond assigned by said Porter to you in trust,) was the true motive of that dissolution you complain of. If you turn to the records of the court, or review the correspondence with my brother on that subject, you must blush at such a subterfuge. From that time, and owing thereto, I avoided your company. I could here make the proper reflections, with respect to your veracity and integrity, but the world will do you justice.

The critical situation of our affairs, in the winter of 1776, is well known to every inhabitant of the United States; but those only who were at that time in the field, can have a true idea of the circumstances which often threatened the dissolution of the militia. My situation gave me better opportunities of knowing the feelings and temper of both officers and privates, than any other person; and the happy expedients used on several occasions, to prevent their going home in a body, are well known to many officers whom I then had the honour to command.

The first intimation we had of the capture of General Lee, was received by a flag which arrived at my quarters. To determine whether this was a misfortune, or an advantage to the cause of America, is at this time immaterial. It was then, however, generally thought a matter of great magnitude, in the British as well as in the American camp. The effect it had on our army is well remembered by those who were present, but particularly on the militia.

That men attached to a cause upon principle, should persevere in a prosperous situation of affairs, is not uncommon. We were at that time separated from our enemies only by a river, which we expected every day might be passable on the ice,—greatly inferior in number and discipline, and almost destitute of everything necessary even for defence. Add to this, a proclamation of General Howe, offering pardon and protection to those who should submit and swear allegiance before the first of January, 1777, and this time nearly expired. I say, under such circumstances, it would be wonderful indeed, if no officer of the army sunk under the apprehension of those dangers that threatened him. That there were more than yourself, I well know, whose expressions discovered a timidity unworthy an officer and a patriot, who, notwithstanding, from the well-timed and spirited remonstrances of their friends, were induced to assume a firmer tone of behaviour, and have since rendered their country considerable services.

Having fully stated the temper of men's minds at this alarming period, and the situation of public affairs, I shall now recite the conversation and circumstances relating thereto, which I have avowed in my letter to you of the 10th September, as having passed between us at Bristol.

I had occasion to speak with you a few days before the intended attack on the 26th December, 1776, and requested you to retire with me to a private room at my quarters; the business related to intelligence; a general conversation, however, soon took place, concerning the state of public affairs; and after running ever a number of topics,—in an agony of mind, and despair strongly expressed in your countenance and tone of voice, you spoke your apprehensions concerning the event of the contest,—that our affairs looked very desperate, and we were only making a sacrifice of ourselves; that the time of General Howe's offering pardon and protection to persons who should come in before the first of January, 1777, was nearly expired; and that Galloway, the Allens, and others, had gone over, and availed themselves of that pardon and protection, offered by the said proclamation; that you had a family, and ought to take care of them, and that you did not understand following the wretched remains (or remnants) of a broken army; that your brother (then a colonel or lieutenant-colonel of militia,—but you say of the five months' men, which is not material,) was then at Burlington, with his family; and that you had advised him to remain there, and if the enemy took possession of the town, to take a protection and swear allegiance; and in so doing he would be perfectly justifiable.

This was the substance, and I think nearly the very words; but that "you did not understand following the wretched remains (or remnants) of a broken army," I perfectly remember to be the very words you expressed.

That our situation was critical, and the dangers that threatened us great, were universally acknowledged; but I was astonished to hear such expressions from the Adjutant-General of the army, as your conduct had been approved of by report; for your good behaviour was not personally known to me. Judging from appearances, and from all circumstances at the time, I imputed these sentiments solely to timidity; and therefore, to rouse your feelings, and give new vigor to a mind weakened by fear, I recalled to your memory your former public professions and conduct, and endeavoured to paint, in the strongest colours, the fatal consequences, that would ensue from such an example, particularly to the militia; that if officers, (more especially one in your station,) discovered a want of firmness, we could not reasonably expect private soldiers to remain in the field; and added, that as I was commanding officer there, I should not pass over such expressions in future; appearing to be invigorated by these remonstrances, your subsequent conversation induced me to hope from you a more honourable resolution. The immediate turn in our affairs confirmed this hope. I had, besides, at the moment, a still stronger dissuasive. I foresaw that an "arrest," or discovery, on my part, would produce all the bad effects naturally to be apprehended from actual desertion; I mean with respect to the discouragement which such an example would have caused in the army, but particularly in the militia; and especially, as at that time the militia were assembling at Philadelphia, under General Putnam, from every part of the country, influenced by the example of the city troops, as well as by a sense of danger and duty. If, then, the city militia had disbanded, no person can hesitate to determine what would have been the fate of those from the country.

The reasons of my concealing it from the General were, that nothing but an arrest, on his part, could have prevented the execution of this plan of desertion, and the bad consequences ensuing from it, the betraying of secrets; and such arrest would have wrought the other ill consequences I have spoken of. In this dilemma, I used a discretion which I considered most advantageous to my country; and trusted to my hopes, that so important an event, as your defection, would not happen, and thus avoid the immediate and certain evil. And besides, I have, in every stage of the war, shown a disposition to overlook political weaknesses, conceiving that every man we could retain in the service an acquisition, tending to draw forth the whole strength and abilities of my country against the common enemy.

That the conversation alluded to is a new tale, devised in the malignancy of party, has been asserted by you; and on this assertion is founded many of your strongest conclusions in favour of your own innocence. But what must the world think of your effrontery, when they read the following letter of Col. Alexander Hamilton, who was then Aid-de-Camp to the Commander-in-chief, and now a delegate in Congress; whose conduct and character are well known and approved by the citizens of every State in the Union,—a gentleman, who, being a resident of the State of New York, cannot be supposed in any manner concerned in the politics of Pennsylvania?

Philadelphia, 14th March, 1783.

Dear Sir:—Though disagreeable to appear in any manner in a personal dispute; yet I cannot, in justice to you, refuse to comply with the request contained in your note. I have delayed answering it, to endeavour to recollect, with more precision, the time, place and circumstances of the conversation, to which you allude. I cannot, however, remember with certainty more than this: that some time in the campaign of seventy-seven, at head-quarters in this State, you mentioned to me and some other gentlemen of General Washington's family, in a confidential way, that at some period in seventy-six, I think after the American army crossed the Delaware in its retreat, Mr. Reed had spoken to you in terms of great despondency respecting American affairs, and had intimated, that he thought it time for gentlemen to take care of themselves, and that it was unwise any longer to follow the fortunes of a ruined cause, or something of a similar import. It runs in my mind, that the expressions you declared to have been made use of by Mr. Reed were, that he thought he ought no longer to "risk his life and fortunes with the shattered remains of a broken army:" but it is the part of candour to observe, that I am not able to distinguish with certainty, whether the recollection I have of these words arises from the strong impression made by your declaration at the time, or from having heard them more than once repeated within a year past.

I am, dear sir, with great esteem, your obedient servant,

A. HAMILTON.

To General Cadwalader.

At the time I communicated the contents of Colonel Hamilton's certificate to him, in confidence, it appears by your own acknowledgment, that[G] "no party or prejudices existed, (at least as to you,")—"the intercourse arising from these mingled duties and services, which were continued until the army went into winter quarters, at the Valley Forge, soon did away the coolness which had for some years subsisted, and in no small degree revived our former habits of friendship;"—"but it was our lot to meet again, a few days before the battle of Monmouth; here we were again united in confidence and danger. After the battle, we left the army together, and that period closed our friendly intercourse forever." From these, (your expressions,) you affect to believe, and wish the world to think, that our former friendship was restored. It was not so; I cannot call it friendship. The transaction I have mentioned occasioned the dissolution of that intimacy, contracted in early life, which but little accorded with my notion of perfect integrity. From that time, and owing solely to that cause, I took the resolution to avoid your company, as a private gentleman, and which I constantly adhered to. Meeting in the army, where we served most of the time in the character of volunteers, I did not think it right to suffer former dislikes to interrupt the duties and services required of us by the commander-in-chief, so necessary for mutual and general safety. If, then, my dislike to you did not proceed from such motives as sometimes induce men to seek for opportunities of gratifying their resentments, for what purpose could I have invented such a "tale?" or if my resentment was such as you represent, why did I not gratify it by making it public immediately? at that time, my mind could not have been "inflamed by party;" because you admit, that no parties then existed, ("at least as to you;") nor could my ambition have been disappointed,—because, being commanding officer of the Pennsylvania Militia, (the council of safety, who then held the powers of government,) could not gratify me further. I could not have "mistaken a conversation with some other person," because there was not that "distance of time," which you suppose, nor can it be conceived by the most credulous to be "some jocular expression;" because the situation of affairs rather suppressed than excited in you the appearance of mirth. Having mentioned this conversation long before parties were formed here, it must appear to every impartial person, that it could not have been the mere invention of my own "brain," suggested in the spirit of party; and it is still more absurd to suppose, that I could have foreseen that you, who then thought as I did concerning the essential objections to the constitution of Pennsylvania, should refuse the appointment of Chief Justice, because you could not, in conscience, take the oath of office; that Mr. Wharton (the first President,) should die; and yet that you should afterwards accept the chair of government. It is, however, incontestibly proved, that the conversation alluded to was spoken of by me at an early period, and long before your appointment to the chair of government; and yet you say, "the prosecution of General Arnold, I have no doubt, gave rise to it." If I was to leave it to your ingenuity to explain to the world my motives for inventing such a "tale," to what purposes could you possibly impute my design? It could not be to gratify my resentment for the injury you attempted upon my property; because I did not then make it public; it could not be occasioned by any personal offence taken in 1777, (when I privately mentioned it to Colonel Hamilton,) because you contend that our "former habits of friendship" were revived, and acknowledge, that I never made it public for several years afterwards. Here, then, the man of humanity may ask me, why did you, at so late a date, publicly mention a circumstance injurious to General Reed's reputation, as adjutant-general of the army and a patriot, which after-services ought to have consigned to oblivion? The question is a natural one, and I will give it an answer. The first occasion of my mentioning this matter publicly was this: soon after our return to the city, in the year 1778, among the victims selected for public examples, there was a young gentleman, with whom I had formed an intimacy in early life. I considered him, as he was by many, (and his acquittal justified the opinion,) as unjustly persecuted; but General Reed, who had resumed his original profession, voluntarily aided the prosecution, and with all the force of declamation, labored to inflame his judges and jury against him. It was then, recollecting how near he once appeared to the commission of the same offence which he charged upon the other, or at least to a defection from the cause, that my indignation broke out at the trial, saying to those around me, that "it argued the extremity of effrontery and baseness, in one man to pursue another to death, for taking a step which his own foot had been once raised to take!"[H] This was anterior to his elevation to the Presidency, and whilst his powers of doing mischief, were he so inclined, were circumscribed by the narrowness of his sphere of action; at such a time, could I think his loss of fame so essential to the public good, or, if he will, to the purposes of party, as to be willing to attempt it, at the expense of my private veracity, my honour and conscience.

The inconsistency of such ostensible conduct, and the baseness of a meditated defection, is not irreconcilable to those who have had opportunities of knowing that he is not incapable of such vast extremes; who have seen him at the bar of the assembly he himself disqualified by the non-compliance with the test of laws, as since fully appears by a publication signed Sidney, unblushingly attempt to set aside the famous Chester election, upon the suggestion of its having been carried by electors disqualified from the like circumstances.

It is thus I would have answered the question, why I have mentioned publicly your meditated defection, and I trust that such provocation merited those reflections which might otherwise have remained in my own breast.

The objection to the force of my single testimony thus obviated, did no other offer to corroborate it, I should not hesitate to submit it, under such circumstances, to the judgment of the public, resting their determination upon the credit of my veracity against yours. Having supported an unblemished character, I dare defy any person to produce an instance where I have even been suspected of an untruth, or of a base or dishonourable action. Conscious of the truth of what I have asserted, I have no fears that my conduct will ever "dishonour me with the wise and virtuous."

The reason I have assigned for the dissolution of our intimacy antecedent to the war, will afford a better proof of your ingenuity than your integrity; and further, (with respect to your veracity,) if any other instance is necessary, let me add one which happened at camp, (at head-quarters,) in the year 1777, soon after the battle of Germantown, when in my hearing, and in the presence of three officers of the first rank in the army, you was charged to your face with a falsehood, and which was fully proved the next day, by the general officer who made the charge.

And now, before I introduce the concurrent testimony in support of my assertion, I shall take but a momentary notice here of those disrespectful expressions with which you have decorated your pamphlet. Weakness of head, is an accusation of a kind which it would equally puzzle the fool and the wise to reply to; but against that of badness of heart, my known tenor of conduct, in private and public life, must be my defence; if that fails, it must be needless in me to set up any other.

But if even prejudiced men should still doubt the truth of my assertion, with respect to the conversation alluded to, in the above representation, every doubt must be removed upon reading the following certificates.

Here, then, it fully appears, that the testimony contained in the above certificates, all point to the same object, and to the same period mentioned by me, supporting and confirming each other. They likewise clearly prove the whole progress of your meditated defection; they prove that you deceived me by those professions, by which I had been induced to trust to your appearances of fidelity, as you absolutely made an application for a protection to Count Donop, in which an intimate friend of yours was included.

But what opinion must the world form of your veracity, when you are detected in falsely asserting, that you had not mentioned such sentiments to your most intimate friends and relations. "Is it not utterly incredible," you say, "that I should hold such communication or sentiments from my most intimate friends and relations, and make it to a person with whom I had held no friendship for many years; who had received me with coldness." Mr. Pettit is your relation, and Col. Bayard your most intimate friend, with whom, at that time, you had the freest intercourse. To these you communicated your sentiments, as appears by the certificates of Col. Bradford, Col. Ellis, and Mr. Davenport; but your friend, hinted at in Major Lennox's certificate, had consented to accompany you in your intended desertion. The height of your iniquity does not end here; you endeavoured, by your influence, to spread general disaffection, in order to lessen your share of the infamy, by dividing it among many. Had you conferred with men whose principles were in every instance like your own, you might have succeeded, as every person concerned might have carried off his particular friend with him.

If all the evidence which now appears against you, had been produced at that time, what would have been your fate, as you then, (being Adjutant-General of the army,) was subject to the Continental articles of war?

In the 10th page you say, you can "truly declare, that the subject of the present slander was not known to you, till its appearance in the newspaper." Having mentioned it at the Coffee House, (as appears by Mr. Pryor's certifiate[TN],) in the presence of some of your friends, it was reasonable to expect they would have informed you of it; but it seems there is some difference between private information and a public charge made in the papers. As a gentleman, there can, in my opinion, be no difference; as you say, in your letter of the 9th Sept. last, that this insinuation seems to deserve some credit from a reference to me. You insinuate, that if you had heard it, you should have noticed it. To this, however, the world will give little credit, as you made no public or private inquiry respecting the charge made in Major Lennox's certificate, though he communicated it to Major Thomas Moore, son of the late President, whose permission I have for asserting publicly, that he informed you of what Major Lennox had related, the very day he heard it.

The matters mentioned in Major Lennox's certificate, and in that of Col. Nichols reach vastly beyond me; here you absolutely apply for protection; and if one report demanded your notice, in reference to my authorities, why not another, more alarming to you, your notice in reference to Major Lennox?

But the consciousness of the communications made to confidential friends, and others, suggested the fear of other proofs. As long as it was only communicated by private information, you were willing to submit to private censure. But when a charge, which originated from me, was made in the papers, it reduced you to the disagreeable alternative of a tacit confession, or the hazard of public proof. And in the present instance, if I am rightly informed, you was perfectly disposed to treat the publication signed Brutus, with that "silent contempt," which, you say, you have for a "long time observed, with respect to the anonymous abuse which disgraces our public papers;" but your friends, feeling the weight of the charge, goaded you into so unfortunate a measure. "Unhappy man! against whose peace and happiness all are combined."

What answer can you make to the weight of testimony here produced against you? I see nothing left, but to declare to the world, that the whole is a wicked combination to destroy you; you may say, "you thought me entitled to the whole infamy of the insinuation," till the above mentioned witnesses "consented to divide it with me;" and that, "if you did not sufficiently measure the malignancy of their dispositions, or thought more favourably of them than you ought to have done, you are content to acknowledge your error, and do full justice in this respect hereafter;" and if any person should ask you, would all these gentlemen hazard such assertions without foundation? you may answer, "it is difficult to resolve what men of ungovernable passions will or will not say, when their minds are inflamed by party, and their breasts burning with disappointed ambition;" may they not have "mistaken a conversation with some other person, or at this distance of time, converted some jocular expression into such suspicions as they have mentioned;" and you may add, "the memories of men may fail; their minds are subject to the warp of prejudice and passion; they may convert into serious import what was dropped in jest; and, from false pride, persist in what they have said, because they have said it, even against the conviction of their own consciences."

In your letter of the 23d of September last, you say, "you have declared the insinuations in Oswald's paper of the 7th inst. false; and you apply the same epithet to my avowal of them." This assertion has been fully refuted by the concurrent testimony of your intimate friends and others. In your friends, you thought yourself perfectly secure; but the weakness of two of them has betrayed you, and the third is proved your accomplice.

It would, indeed, have appeared somewhat extraordinary, if you had not discovered your intentions to some of your intimate friends and relations; and that "no circumstance should occur to correspond with this imputation," after having communicated the same to me. Nor are proofs wanting, if they were here necessary, independently of those I have already adduced, with respect to some of your friends, who at the time held considerable commands in the militia.

And "though specially sent by General Washington," as you say, "for the express purpose of assisting me," it may not be here improper to make a short observation, in which I conceive I shall be perfectly justifiable. Though the duties of an Adjutant General would naturally confine you to the Continental army, yet I can easily conceive that there was no difficulty, by hints thrown out, or by the interposition of a friend, to induce the commander-in-chief to permit you to come to Bristol, under the pretence of assisting me; being, as you represent, well acquainted with the inhabitants of Burlington, through whom you might obtain information. But from the evidence which appears against you, it will not be thought uncharitable to conclude, that you conceived your plan could be better executed at Bristol, than under the eye of General Washington. Besides, you might reasonably hope to shake more easily the constancy of untried officers of militia, than those in the army, whose minds might be supposed better fortified against such attacks.

I am at a loss for words to express my indignation for the attempt you made on my integrity; for though I did not see it in that point of view at the time, yet the whole testimony, as now collected, fully proves such to have been your intention; and happy I conceive it to be for my own honour and the safety of my country, that you found in me that strength of mind, which you might not have experienced in some of your particular friends, had they been in my situation.

The circumstances relating to the letter you wrote Count Donop, created at the time no suspicions; nor do I recollect any publication which alludes to it. This affair, and that mentioned by Major Lenox[TN], are distinct transactions; but it is not more than probable, that at the interview you proposed under cover of serving the inhabitants of Burlington, you intended to confer with Count Donop upon the subject of your own interest and personal safety? This suspicion, in my opinion, is perfectly warranted by the indubitable proofs of your intended desertion. Another circumstance relating to this affair was equally unusual and improper. Mr. Daniel Ellis,[J] by whom you sent the letter with a flag, was universally known to be disaffected; having been so long in the service you could not be ignorant of those obvious reasons, which prove the propriety of sending men with flags, whose attachment to the cause is well known, and men of observation.

Every page, almost, of your publication is full of reflections against me, and almost upon every subject; so intent have you been to injure my reputation. The errors I committed during my command may serve a double purpose; because he who committed them is subject to censure, and he who points them out claims the merit of the discovery. That I committed errors, I readily admit; my friends have marked some, and subsequent experience discovered others; but I am conscious they proceed from want of experience, not a want of integrity. Why, then, need I seek to justify myself, when, from the nature of the war, considerable commands were, from necessity, entrusted to young officers, there being few amongst us to whom the profession was not entirely new. But, I confess, it would give me infinite pain, if, by "a strange inattention of mine to the tide and state of the river," and the not arriving "one hour" sooner at Dunk's Ferry, we had lost the opportunity of striking a blow at Mount Holly, of equal glory with that at Trenton. When you insinuated, in the former part of your address, a superior knowledge in military matters, by saying you had more "experience," I gave up the point, and left you the happiness of thinking so; for why should I have contended a point with a man who, throughout his pamphlet, assumes to himself the merit of all those brilliant successes, so highly commended even by our enemies, and which determined the fate of American independence. And if I was sensible that the charge you now make was true, or could be thought so, by competent judges, I would scorn to defend my error.

My orders were, to make the attack one hour before day, and to effect a surprise, if possible. The impropriety, therefore, of sending the boats from Bristol to Dunk's Ferry, and marching the troops from the same place in open day, is evident, as such a movement must have been observed, and communicated to the enemy. And now, tell me the instance, where even continental troops have arrived at the point of attack at the given time? It was General Washington's intention to have made his attack on Trenton before day; yet, from unavoidable delays, he did not arrive there till after eight o'clock in the morning. We reached Dunk's Ferry a little before low water, and can any person believe, that if we had arrived "one hour sooner," we could have passed over near twenty-five hundred men, four pieces of cannon, ammunition wagons and horses, and all the horses belonging to officers, in that time, in the night too, and the river full of ice, with only five large batteauxs and two or three scows; when it took us at least six hours, (a day or two afterwards,) to cross above Bristol, in open day and the river almost clear of ice. Strange "inattention," unhappy commander! That "a single hour, which we might have enjoyed with equal convenience and equal risk," should be the only obstacle to a scene of equal glory with that of Trenton, and yet you have represented to General Washington, as appears by his letter,[K] dated six o'clock, P. M., 25th December, 1776, to me, being the very same night, and before we marched to Dunk's Ferry, that you gave him the most discouraging accounts of what might be expected from our operations below. What, then, were those discouraging accounts? Why was I not acquainted with them? or were they thrown out to influence him from making his attempt on Trenton, by representing that no co-operation from our quarter could favour his enterprise? In the general's opinion, it is plain, it had that tendency. But in the heedless fury of this stroke at me, you have incautiously unguarded your most tender part.

"Anxious to fill up the part of this glorious plan assigned to us," you "passed over, you say, with your horse, to see and judge for yourself." You did so. "Having seen the last man re-embarked, you proceeded before day to Burlington." Here permit me to correct you, because there is no circumstance better ascertained, than that many of the men were not brought back till eight o'clock the next morning.

Your motives for going to Burlington that night, were then thought a mystery; 'tis now no longer so; and the "other circumstances," that permitted you to join us again at Bristol, are now clearly accounted for. General Washington's success or defeat was, no doubt, to determine whether you were to remain a citizen of the United States of America, or to be a shameful deserter of your country.

You say, you went to Philadelphia, at my request, to confer with Gen. Putnam; that you set out in the evening, (the 24th December,) and reached Philadelphia about midnight; but what credit, can you reasonably expect, will be given to your "detail of proceedings," in other particulars, when you find yourself detected in such gross contradictions in the following instance?

In the 17th page you say, "Upon conference with General Putnam, (at Philadelphia,) he represented the state of the militia, the general confusion which prevailed, his apprehensions of an insurrection in the city in his absence, and many other circumstances, in such strong terms, as convinced me, no assistance could be derived from him;" and yet, in your letter to me, dated Philadelphia, 25th December, 1776, 11 o'clock, you say; "General Putnam has determined to cross the river, with as many men as he can collect, which, he says, will be about five hundred; he is now mustering them, and endeavouring to get Proctor's company of artillery to go with them. I wait to know what success he meets with, and the progress he makes; but, at all events, I shall be with you this afternoon."

Here the representation stated in your pamphlet is contradicted by a letter in your own handwriting. Having forgot, perhaps, that you had written such a letter, your ingenuity furnished materials for a plausible narrative, suitable to your purposes; not suspecting that such proof could be adduced in opposition to it.

Having returned to Bristol about daylight on the 26th December, with the greater part of the troops, I received an account, about 11 o'clock, A. M., from a person just arrived from Trenton Ferry, that General Washington had succeeded in his attack. I immediately despatched a messenger with a line to General Ewing, for information, but all I could learn was, that the victory was ours.

From the continuance of the rain and wind, I concluded the ice must be destroyed in the course of the day, and instantly sent down to Dunk's Ferry for the boats. This being an extraordinary service, required of men who had been exposed to the storm the whole night, was, however, cheerfully undertaken and executed. I then consulted Col. Hitchcock, who commanded the New England brigade, to know whether his troops would willingly accompany us to New Jersey, as I had determined to cross the river in the morning, if practicable, to co-operate with General Washington. He informed me, that his troops could not march, unless they could be supplied with shoes, stockings and breeches; upon which I instantly wrote to the Council of Safety, and obtained seven hundred pairs of each of the above articles, which arrived about sunrise on the morning of the 27th December. This second attempt being determined on, I went with several officers, in the afternoon of the 26th, to fix upon a proper place for crossing the river above Bristol, and the next morning before day viewed the Jersey Shore in a barge, for the same purpose. By your relation, one would imagine you had been the life and soul of this second movement across the Delaware,—as little privy to it as the emperor of Morocco,—but it is no unusual thing for you to intercept the praise due to others of creditable actions. Instead of being present to confirm my proposed movements, by your advice, you remained at Burlington, "in a kind of concealment, till the weather and other circumstances permitted you to join us at Bristol," after all our resolutions were taken, and the most of our arrangements made. In the tissue of your representations, it is your purpose to insinuate my deficiency in military conduct in the subsequent transactions. Let my relation of it be heard!

We marched on the 27th, in the morning, and the ice being by this time chiefly destroyed, we met with little obstruction in passing. The last division of the troops being embarked, and then crossing, we received private information, that General Washington had re-crossed the river, and returned to Newtown, in Pennsylvania, from whence he dates his letter, 27th December, 1776, informing me of the particulars of the action at Trenton, and which was not received, contrary to your assertion, till we had marched above a mile on our way to Burlington; it was then read to the troops, who were halted for this purpose. We had, however, before given full credit to the first information of his having re-crossed; on which previous information I called together the field officers, to consult what was then best to be done. From this circumstance, Col. Hitchcock, and some others, proposed returning to Bristol. I instantly declared my determination against it, and recommended an attack upon Mount Holly, as from the information we had of the force at that post, we might easily carry it, and should then have a retreat open towards Philadelphia, if necessary. You then, "as a middle course," advised our going to Burlington; in which those who had at first proposed our return, joined in opinion. This was the true cause of that hesitation you remarked with respect to me. Burlington was in a position, in my judgment, very dangerous; as in case we should be invested there, and the river impassable, we should be forced to submit at discretion, for want of provisions, or hazard an action against troops superior in discipline, and perhaps in number, if their whole force was collected to that point. Having no other retreat open to us, but that over the river, it was evident this could not be effected without the loss, at least, of those who might be ordered to cover the retreat. Having passed the river in open day, it was probable the enemy might be informed of it; and, in that case, the post at Mount Holly reinforced. To determine whether we should take a position, unanimously approved by the council, but which I thought extremely dangerous; or adhere to my own plan, unsupported by a single voice, was certainly a question that required more than a momentary consideration, even for an officer, at this stage of the war. Being pressed for some resolution, as the day was far spent, I waived my own opinion, and acquiesced in the desire of marching to Burlington; but it is ridiculous to suppose, as you say, that your brother's intelligence of Count Donop's retreat, could have influenced my acquiescence, for it did not arrive till after our resolutions were taken,—and besides, was not credited; because if it had reached us before, and been credited, I should not have acquiesced in such desire; if even after, I should naturally have taken another course, and pursued the flying enemy, instead of going to Burlington, which was five miles in the rear.

Late that night, I received certain information, that the enemy had evacuated all their posts in the neighborhood, and immediately despatched a messenger to General Washington with the intelligence; in answer to which, I received his orders, very early next morning, to pursue and keep up the panic, and that he would cross at Trenton that day. From this circumstance, it appears that the General had taken his determination before your pretended information or advice from Trenton could have reached him.

In justification to myself, I have thought it necessary to point out your false state of facts, in these particulars; the multitude of lesser ones, relating to military matters, I shall pass over, as this publication is already necessarily lengthened beyond my first intention.

As I hinted, in my letter of 10th September last, that "charges of the same nature had been, some time since, made against you," by Arnold; you say, you "allow full weight to so respectable a connexion and testimony;" to which you made no reply, though from the rank and character of Arnold at that time, they merited your notice. Arnold having received his information from me, it cannot be concluded, that I meant by his testimony to strengthen my own assertion; but merely to show, that having before been charged, you did not reply; from which many believed it true. And when he apologized to me for inserting it in his defence without my permission, I remarked, that an apology was unnecessary, from the public manner in which I had mentioned it.

Arnold was commanding officer in this city, very generally visited by officers of the army, citizens and strangers. I received the usual civilities from him, and returned them; and often met him at the tables of gentlemen in the city. To my civilities, at that time, I thought him entitled from the signal services he had rendered his country; services infinitely superior to those you so much boast of; he stood high, as a military character, even in France, and after your prosecution, he was continued in command by Congress; appointed first, by the commander-in-chief, to the command of the left wing of the army, and afterwards to that important post of West Point, where his treacherous conduct exceeded, I fancy, even your own idea of his baseness. To what, then, do your insinuations amount? They cannot criminate me, without an implied censure on Congress and the commander-in-chief. But why contaminate my name, by connecting it, in this instance, with such a wretch? when you, yourself, at his trial, with a half-shamed face, seemed to apologize for being his prosecutor, and became his fulsome panegyrist. It consisted, however, with that artifice and cunning which has ever been the sum of your abilities, and the whole amount of your wisdom.

Your remarks on my letter of the 10th December, 1777, are so inconsistent, that I shall bestow a few observations on them. "So strong and virulent," you say, "was my antipathy to the constitution, and such my enmity to those who administered it, that you believe I would have preferred any government to that of Pennsylvania, if my person and property would have been equally secure;" and yet it seems, in the next sentence you say, "but it was our lot to meet again, a few days before the battle of Monmouth; here we were again united in confidence and danger." If you really thought I would prefer any government to that of Pennsylvania, why did you then take so much pains to show, that we again united in "confidence and danger," at the battle of Monmouth, so many months after I had discovered that virulent antipathy, and which now hath extorted such gross reflections?

You say, my breast was burning with disappointed ambition; but how does this appear, when, immediately upon the formation of the new government, I was appointed the first of three brigadiers, which created me commanding officer of the militia. Could my ambition be gratified further? But to obviate every objection, let me suppose you meant, that I wished to rise to power in the civil line,—which, however, has never been insinuated before,—let me here call to your memory, how easy the task was for any character to rise to the first offices of government. I confess, I do not think so meanly of myself, as to have dreaded any rivalship from some of the candidates of those days; nor do I mean, by this declaration, to insinuate any extraordinary merit, when I estimate mine by that of those I have alluded to. I could not have consented to make the sacrifices required; but you, however, and some others, as much opposed to the essential parts of the constitution as I was, freely made them, and broke through every obligation of faith and honour.

The charge you have brought against a party in the state, of an opposition to its constitution, deserves some attention. I will digress a little from my main subject to examine how far this charge is true, and how far the thing is in itself criminal.

Government is generally so reverenced among men, that those who attempt to subvert any system of it whatever, have to contend against a very natural prejudice. But this prejudice can only be in degree with the antiquity of its establishment; for modern error, how high soever its authority, has but little claim to our veneration. This concession made, could it be expected that our novel constitution, liable at first blush to so many important objections, should not have its opponents; but that in a moment it should be submitted to, as implicitly as if it had had the sanction of ages? What circumstance was there, in the production of this whimsical machine, that should silence, at once, all the remonstrances of reason and sense against it? Was it not worth a pause to examine, whether this coat, wove for ages, would fit us or our posterity before we put on; or whether this gift of our convention would not prove our destruction? From an apprehension that it would, an opposition was formed, that included a majority of the state. Did those who composed it, think it criminal to prevent the singular ideas of a convention, from being carried into execution, against an almost general sentiment; or did they not rather conceive it safe and better for the community still to go on in the administration of governmental affairs by those temporary expedients we had been in the habits of, until their constitution could be revised?

This idea, patriotic as it was, was defeated by the obstinate enthusiasm of some, who trembled for this New Jerusalem of their hopes, and by the scandalous desertion of others, and especially yourself. The ends of opposition being thus rendered unattainable, but at the hazard of convulsions, that might endanger the great American cause, the same virtue that began it, ended it, and it has long since ceased to act.

This is a well-known state of facts; but what it did not suit with your own by-purposes to admit, could not be expected from your integrity; you have, therefore, constantly kept up the alarm of a constitutional opposition, and, on every occasion, referred to this false cause, that honest and useful opposition which was created by your weak, though violent and tyrannical administration.

That you was called to the chair of government, by the unanimous vote of council and assembly, you have often boasted, with a view of conveying to the world an idea, that even the gentlemen opposed to the constitution approved the choice. But they neither esteemed you as a gentleman, nor approved your public conduct. They knew there was a majority in assembly in favour of your election, and as their grand object was the obtaining a resolution of that body, recommending the calling a convention for revising the constitution, some of the party entered into an engagement for this purpose, and your election was negotiated. You were to use your endeavours to prevail on the Council to enforce the recommendation of the assembly by a similar resolution. From your own acknowledgment at the City Tavern, the resolution of the Council was never obtained, or even moved for, by you, and for this flimsy reason, that no formal information, of such resolution having passed, had been communicated to you; though known to all the world; and that it could not be expected that Council would "tag" after the assembly, in a measure relating to the public. Yet you had the effrontery to assert, that "every engagement on your part," was strictly performed.

At this meeting, you say, you "in the most open manner called upon us, to support our imputations, and that you so effectually vindicated every part of your conduct, that every gentleman, (myself excepted,) acknowledged his mistake." I own I made no concessions, and if the reasons I then gave are not thought a sufficient justification to the world, of the opinion I had formed, I am content to admit that it was not only "singular," but "absurd."

After a reasonable pause, I remarked, that from the repeated conversations I had had with you, on this subject, you appeared to me as much opposed as I was, to the constitution, before the evacuation of the city; that you had refused to accept the appointment of Chief Justice, (because you could not in conscience take the oath;[L]) that a short time before the election, in 1778, you engaged yourself to the constitutional party, to serve in Council for the County, and to the party in the opposition, to serve in Assembly for the City; and being chosen in both instances, you hesitated above six weeks, (though often pressed to a resolution,) before you determined to accept your seat in Council;—depriving, during this time, the City of a vote in Assembly, while an important point was debated concerning the contested Chester election; and voluntarily advocating the question in favor of the constitutional party; that on the fate of this trial depended your hopes of succeeding to the President's chair; that a determination in favour of that party gave them a decided majority, and that you instantly accepted your seat in Council.—To which you replied, and in recapitulating my arguments, endeavoured to justify your conduct; but conscious of having failed in the capital points, you closed your remarks with some warm expressions, which conveyed the idea of a threat; of which I desired an explanation. After working up your passions to a degree little short of frenzy, you expressed yourself in the following terms: I mean this,—"If the publications traducing my public and private character are continued, I mean to apply to the law; but if this will not do me that justice, which in some instances it cannot do,—I know I have the affections and command of the fighting men of this state; and if necessary, I will make use of that influence, and call forth that force,—and if bloodshed should be the consequence be it on your own heads."

Such violent and unwarrantable expressions from the first magistrate of the state, and in the presence of the whole bench of justices, created the highest indignation, and were severely reprobated by several gentlemen present; which induced you afterwards to endeavour to soften your expressions and meaning.

But if it was singular or absurd, "to expect a President of the State to enter into the violence of party on my side of the question," let me oppose to this, the treachery of your conduct in deserting the party to which you was at first from ("conscientious" principles) attached, and yet, as President, enter into all the violence of party on the other side of the question.

Again, "upon our return to Philadelphia," you say, "I became the open and avowed patron of those who are distinguished by the appellation of tories; and my decisive attachment to the British Army,[N] and their adherents, "has marked every subsequent period of my life, too plainly to admit of doubt or denial." If you really entertained such sentiments, why did you, in the month of February, (after my marriage,) waiving the indignity offered to you in not paying the usual compliments of congratulation, upon your appointment, pay me the first visit, and thereby make advances towards a reconciliation? Such a condescension, so contrary to the usual forms, can scarcely be reconciled even to a character like yours.

Men who acquire popularity by means disgraceful to a gentleman, dare not hazard a sentiment that is not approved by the party with which he is connected. I have, on all occasions, and in all companies, private and public, delivered freely my political opinions; nor has the dread of losing the little popularity I possessed in Pennsylvania, ever induced me to make a sacrifice of my honour, by adopting opinions or measures which I disapproved, or thought injurious to my country. Esteeming it the highest honour to deserve the approbation of my fellow-citizens, I have ever been solicitous to obtain it. You and some others have industriously propagated reports for the purpose of injuring my reputation; but conscious that my political opinions and conduct will stand the test, upon the nicest scrutiny, and having never experienced any diminution of that esteem, respect and warmth of friendship, which my fellow-citizens have ever shown towards me, a refutation of such calumny is utterly needless.

From the whole of what I have here laid before the public, supported by the testimony of the most respectable witnesses, the following conclusions may fairly be deduced:

1. That the conversation alluded to, which I have asserted to have passed between us at Bristol, was mentioned by me in confidence to Col. Hamilton and some others of General Washington's family, in the year 1777; and therefore could not have originated at the time, you mention, or to gratify my resentment against you, as at that time, you acknowledge, no parties subsisted.

2. It could not have been invented to gratify my resentment for the attempt you made to evade the payment of Mr. Porter's order; because I did not make it public at the time, nor till several years afterwards, and you acknowledge, all that coolness was done away, and our former habits of friendship restored.

[TN] As is appears, by Mr. Clymer's testimony, that I mentioned it publicly at Mr. Hamilton's trial, which was before you were elected President of the state, it ought to be imputed to another cause than that which you have assigned.

4. As it appears, from Mr. Pryor's testimony, that I mentioned it at the Coffee House, in the hearing of some of your friends, we may reasonably conclude you were informed of it; and this conclusion is strengthened by your passing over unnoticed, the information contained in Major Lennox's testimony, which was related to you by Major Thomas Moore.

5. It cannot appear improbable that you should have held this conversation with me, as your expressions to Gen. Dickinson, Col. Nixon, and Doctor Rush, convey sentiments equally injurious to your reputation as a patriot and Adjutant General of the army.

6. As it fully appears, by the testimony of Col. Ellis and Mr. Davenport, and that of Col. Bradford, that you had communicated such sentiments to your brother-in-law, Mr. Pettit, and to Col. Bayard, contrary to your declaration, we may with propriety assert that you have forfeited that veracity, which is essential to the character of a gentleman.

Lastly, from the testimony of Major Lennox and Col. Nichols, it appears that you absolutly[TN] applied to Count Donop for protection, and that a particular and intimate friend of yours was included in it; and therefore, from this and the foregoing testimony, all pointing to the same object and to the same period, supporting and confirming each other, it cannot leave the least room to doubt the truth of my assertion.

In some instances, a man's general good conduct has had great weight to invalidate or weaken charges highly criminal; but unfortunately, yours can receive no aid from such circumstances. Dissimulation and cunning have for a time deceived the most discerning, but the snares you have laid for others will most probably accomplish your own destruction.

Having long since known how to estimate your character, I have not any where pretended, in this performance, to fix it at a higher value than what it generally passes current for; you have, since the term of your administration, repeatedly put yourself upon your country. Your name has been offered to the people for a seat in the legislature; to the legislature, for a seat in Congress; to Congress, for posts of Continental trust; but that name, its counterfeit gilding at length rubbed off, and the native colour of the contexture exposed, has depreciated, like the Continental money, with such velocity, that though a few years ago worth a President's chair, it would not, now purchase a constable's staff; nor is it more highly rated in the sphere of polite life, than in the great theatre of the world; for its unfortunate owner stands alone, unnoticed in the midst of company, with full leisure to reflect on the sensible effects of the loss of reputation.

My immediate purpose requires nothing further from me; but your administration, the theme of your own solitary praise, might not improperly have been touched upon, but that it is a field too extensive for me, and that I have not asperity enough in my nature to do justice to the subject. I will yet observe upon some matters in your pamphlet, not in direct connexion with one or the other subject; but which are extremly[TN] demonstrative of a temper in the writer to wish evil to the community, after the power of doing it has ceased.

You, who have ever been a rapacious lawyer, and have never omitted any means of amassing a fortune, have, with a truly consistent spirit, shown an implacable enmity to all those who are raised to a condition above want and dependence. And though you kick against the parallel drawn between you and the Cataline of antiquity, you have in this point proved its exactness; he haranguing in the circle of his conspirators, exasperates them against the opulent citizens of Rome; you, in your pamphlet, labor to create invidious distinctions, would pervert the order of well regulated society, and make fortune's larger gifts, or even its moderate blessings, criterions of disqualification for public trust and honours in Pennsylvania; and under a spacious description of men, offer with your sword to lead the indigent, the bankrupt, and the desperate, into all the authority of government. But in the shallowness of your understanding, you have mistaken the spirit of the times; it will not countenance or support a Cataline.

You would also, no doubt, as may be inferred from your pamphlet, you, who are so deficient in morality, draw your sword in religious quarrels, to bring you once more into play; but 'tis to no purpose you would raise an alarm, as a very great and respectable part of your opponents consist of persons belonging to that society, of which you profess yourself to be a member; and there is a general and commendable coolness and indifference for such quarrels, that will not easily take fire on your false and inflammatory suggestions; so that whatever you have catched at to raise you from the earth, has broke in your hands and brought you again to the ground.

JOHN CADWALADER.