No civilian sightseers were
admitted, and there was a respectful silence in the presence of
this great humiliation to a proud army. The town itself was a
dreadful spectacle with, as a French observer noted, "big holes
made by bombs, cannon balls, splinters, barely covered graves,
arms and legs of blacks and whites scattered here and there, most
of the houses riddled with shot and devoid of window-panes."
On the very day of surrender Clinton sailed from New York with a
rescuing army. Nine days later forty-four British ships were
counted off the entrance to Chesapeake Bay. The next day there
were none. The great fleet had heard of the surrender and had
turned back to New York. Washington urged Grasse to attack New
York or Charleston but the French Admiral was anxious to take his
fleet back to meet the British menace farther south and he sailed
away with all his great array. The waters of the Chesapeake, the
scene of one of the decisive events in human history, were
deserted by ships of war. Grasse had sailed, however, to meet a
stern fate. He was a fine fighting sailor. His men said of him
that he was on ordinary days six feet in height but on battle
days six feet and six inches. None the less did a few months
bring the British a quick revenge on the sea.
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