He did not long remain in doubt.  The fact was that the public, as is commonly the case, had forgotten the original crime and saw only the misery of the man who was to pay the just penalty, and who was, in this instance, an innocent and vicarious sufferer.  It was difficult to refuse Vergennes, and Congress, glad of the excuse and anxious to oblige their allies, ordered the release of Asgill.  That Washington, touched by the unhappy condition of his prisoner, did not feel relieved by the result, it would be absurd to suppose.  But he was by no means satisfied, for the murderous wrong that had been done rankled in his breast.  He wrote to Vergennes:  “Captain Asgill has been released, and is at perfect liberty to return to the arms of an affectionate parent, whose pathetic address to your Excellency could not fail of interesting every feeling heart in her behalf.  I have no right to assume any particular merit from the lenient manner in which this disagreeable affair has terminated.”

There is a perfect honesty about this which is very wholesome.  He had been freely charged with cruelty, and had regarded the accusation with indifference.  Now, when it was easy for him to have taken the glory of mercy by simply keeping silent, he took pains to avow that the leniency was not due to him.  He was not satisfied, and no one should believe that he was, even if the admission seemed to justify the charge of cruelty.  If he erred at all it was in not executing some British officer at the very start, unless Lippencott had been given up within a limited time.  As it was, after delay was once permitted, it is hard to see how he could have acted otherwise than he did, but Washington was not in the habit of receding from a fixed purpose, and being obliged to do so in this case troubled him, for he knew that he did well to be angry.  But the frankness of the avowal to Vergennes is a good example of his entire honesty and absolute moral fearlessness.

The matter, however, which most filled his heart and mind during these weary days of waiting and doubt was the condition and the future of his soldiers.  To those persons who have suspected or suggested that Washington was cold-blooded and unmindful of others, the letters he wrote in regard to the soldiers may be commended.  The man whose heart was wrung by the sufferings of the poor people on the Virginian frontier, in the days of the old French war, never in fact changed his nature.  Fierce in fight, passionate and hot when his anger was stirred, his love and sympathy were keen and strong toward his army.  His heart went out to the brave men who had followed him, loved him, and never swerved in their loyalty to him and to their country.  Washington’s affection for his men, and their devotion to him, had saved the cause of American independence more often than strategy or daring.  Now, when the war was practically over, his influence with both officers and soldiers was destined to be put to its severest tests.