FOOTNOTES:
[6] Life of Lord Hawke, by Captain Montagu Burrows, Royal Navy, p. 194.
[7] For account and analysis of Byng’s action, see ante, pp. 47-67.
[8] The italics are the author’s.
[9] The writer does not purpose to give an account of these actions, except so far as Rodney himself is concerned. They can be found in Mahan’s “Influence of Sea Power upon History,” pp. 480-495, or in the “History of the Royal Navy,” (Sampson Low, Marston & Co.), edited by Mr. W. Laird Clowes, vol. iii. pp. 520-535.
[10] Journals of Sir T. Byam Martin, Navy Records Society, vol. iii. p. 137.
[11] The Blockade of Brest, Navy Records Society. Introduction, p. xvi. Author’s italics.
HOWE
1726-1799
The name of Howe, albeit that of a stranger to the land, has a special claim upon the esteem and cordial remembrance of Americans. The elder brother of the subject of this sketch, during the few short months in which he was brought into close contact with the colonists of 1758, before the unlucky campaign of Ticonderoga, won from them not merely the trust inspired by his soldierly qualities and his genius for war,—the genius of sound common sense and solidity of character,—but got a deep hold upon their affections by the consideration and respect shown to them by him, traits to which they had been too little accustomed in the British officers of that day. Nor was this attitude on his part only a superficial disguise assumed by policy to secure a needed support. The shrewd, suspicious provincials would soon have penetrated a veil so thin, that covered only the usual supercilious arrogance which they had heretofore encountered. Lord Howe, almost alone among his military contemporaries, warmly greeted them as fellow-countrymen, men of no alien or degenerate blood. He admitted at once the value of their experience, sought their advice, and profited by both; thus gaining, besides the material advantage of methods adapted to the difficulties before him, the adhesion of willing hearts that followed enthusiastically, confident in their leader’s wisdom, and glowing with the unaccustomed sense of being appreciated, of receiving recognition long withheld, but now at last ungrudgingly accorded. “The army felt him, from general to drummer boy. He was its soul; and while breathing into it his own energy and ardor, he broke through the traditions of the service, and gave it new shapes to suit the time and place.... He made himself greatly beloved by the provincial officers, and he did what he could to break down the barriers between the colonial soldiers and the British regulars."[12]