them. Only one among the new appointees, Pomeroy, the
veteran of Louisburg who had fought at the rail fence at Bunker Hill,
declined his commission. He had marvelled that in the battle Warren
should be taken and he, "old and useless," be left unhurt. Now he
withdrew from further service on account of his age; yet, going later
upon a volunteer expedition, he died of exposure.

Before the jealousies of the higher officers were settled, Washington
turned to the smaller fry. He now had to meet the nature of the New
England volunteer. "There is no such thing," he wrote before very long,
"as getting officers of this stamp to carry orders into execution.... I
have made a pretty good slam among such kind of officers as the
Massachusetts government abounds in, having broke one colonel and two
captains for cowardly behaviour in the action on Bunker Hill, two
captains for drawing more pay and provision than they had men in their
company, and one for being absent from his post when the enemy appeared
and burnt a house close by it.... In short, I spare none, and yet fear
it will not all do, as these people seem to be attentive to everything
but their own interest."[113]

Washington was experiencing the difficulties which Lincoln was later to
know, in dealing with the host of fair-weather soldiers and jobbing
self-seekers who come to the front at the outset of a war. There was
every reason why for some time he should estimate the New England
character from what he saw of its worst side. Yet before the seven
years of war were over he knew its better aspect. Massachusetts sent to
the war nearly twice as many men as any other colony, and Connecticut
was second. Measured by this standard, Washington's own colony came
third in devotion to the cause.[114]

We know that later he acknowledged his appreciation of the devotion of
New England to the cause and to his person. It is particularly
interesting to learn that he reversed his judgment in one of the cases
mentioned above. Among those cashiered for disobedience of orders and
alleged cowardice at Bunker Hill was John Callender, captain of an
artillery company. The trial went against him, and Washington dismissed
him "from all further service in the continental service as an officer."
Callender, determined to wipe off the stain on his honor, remained as a
private in the artillery service, and found his opportunity at the
battle of Long Island, where the captain and lieutenant of his batt