On November 25, 1783, George Washington and his honor guard (1000 officers) “took back” Manhattan, after the long years of war (when New York City was basically a British garrison). The peace treaty had been signed a year before, France had pledged support and recognition of the new United States, but the redcoats remained in New York, waiting for their written orders from London. George Washington vowed that he would not go home, he would not break up his army, until every last redcoat had left. He didn’t want any pockets of the enemy left anywhere, where they could still stir up trouble.
Nov. 25 was that momentous day – the day the American troops marched back into town, after the departure of the British.
The exhausted army marched the long way downtown, through what was now a war-ravaged New York City. People lined the streets, crowding in, throwing laurels in front of Washington’s horse, screaming, crying … a huge display of emotion and reverence that made the typically humble Washington feel uncomfortable. Washington had been in a state of constant war for YEARS by this point. He was handling mutinies, starving soldiers, naked soldiers, unpaid soldiers – on a daily basis … he had endured unbelievable hardships, just trying to keep the army together. An amazing task, when you think about it in retrospect. Just amazing.
And his absolute certainty that the military had no place in politics. He believed in the separation of the army from the political maneuverings of the Continental Congress … Amazing. His prescience in this regard. Way before the term “Bonapartism” would even enter the language (of course, because Bonaparte was in the future) – Washington completely understood the dangers of letting the military too close to the government.
Anyway, in the great biography of George Washington I have (by Willard Sterne Randall) I came across this very moving excerpt from a diary of a Manhattan woman, who was in the crowds, watching the parade, that November day.
Here is what she wrote:
We had been accustomed for a long time to military display in all the finish and finery of [British] garrison life. The troops just leaving us were as if equipped for a show and with their scarlet uniforms and burnished arms made a brilliant display. The troops that marched in, on the contrary, were ill-clad and weather-beaten and made a forlorn appearance. But then, they were our troops and as I looked at them and thought upon all they had done and suffered for us, my heart and my eyes were full.
It’s such a great quote that I really do hate to get into pedantic nitpicking, but then, that’s me, so…1000 officers? Shouldn’t that be 1000 soldiers? Would there have been 1000 officers in the whole Continental Army?
I have no idea, Dave J. Whatever “honor guard” means … I’m not quoting from the biography, by the way, I don’t have it with me at work – so the post is my wording from what I remembered about the incident – it’s just the quote from the journal I copied down to share with you all.
Red—I have a theory that the book you are working on is a novel about the Revolution….. Just a hunch.
Also, on the topic of the officer corps, an odd tidbit that I came across this summer was the flap about the creation of the Order of the Cincinnatti, and how it was feared that it would become a hereditary, aristocratic organization and hence was disbanded. The ironic thing was that this came to pass…..in France. The Order of the Cincinnatti still exists in France, composed of the eldest son descendents of the French officers who fought in the war. Yet again, the anti-Federalists were right.
Veddy interesting. So … obviously it originated in Cincinnatti … or am I stupid?
I’ll take the Fifth on answering the last clause of that question, but no, it predates the city of Cincinatti, Ohio. Both were named for Cincinattus, a Roman landowner in the era of the Republic who was made dictator during some emergency, and then went it was over laid aside his powers and returned to his farm.