General George Washington was always underestimated. As a filthy American rebel, how could he not be? In the eyes of the British, he was a ruffian, a simpleton whose military skill couldn't possibly match that of the finest, most refined generals the Crown sent to the Colonies to put down their foolish uprising.
The finest, most refined of these was General William Howe--a man of high birth and status in England who was the epitome of dignity and class. He was nothing short of Washington's polar opposite. And he proved time and again his superiority in battle by winning victory after victory.
By September of 1777, Howe had captured Philadelphia--the rebel capital--and stationed his troops in nearby Germantown. It looked as though the sophisticated gentleman would defeat this ruffian once and for all.
Suddenly, though, Washington attacked. After a fierce battle, Howe's troops were routed but not totally defeated. Washington's men retreated to their camp at Pennypacker's Mill, about 25 miles away.
Then they noticed that a visitor had joined them; a small, well-groomed fox terrier who had apparently followed them all the way from Germantown.
Washington's men examined its collar and realized that the dog was the personal property of General Howe. They laughed at their good fortune. They would keep the dog as a mascot! How much fun would it be to march into battle with Howe's dog leading them?
They brought the dog to General Washington, fully expecting him to go along with the fun. After all, Washington was a known dog lover who likened the war effort to a hunt. In fact, during the Battle of Trenton earlier that year, he rode his horse to the front yelling, "It's a fine fox chase, boys!"
Yet Washington surprised them. Rules of engagement at the time dictated that enemy combatants could be taken prisoner, but personal property must be returned. Washington, the supposed ruffian, believed that decorum must be preserved. He ordered his top aide, Alexander Hamilton to write a note to Howe and send a soldier to return the dog.
“Note to Sir William Howe," Hamilton wrote. "General Washington’s compliments to General Howe, does himself the pleasure to return him a Dog, which accidentally fell into his hands, and by the inscription on the collar, appears to belong to General Howe. October 6th, 1777."
Howe was overjoyed. He had his prized terrier back.
"The General seemed most pleased at the return of the dog," one of Howe's troops wrote later. "He took him upon his lap, seemingly uncaring that the mud from the dog's feet soiled his tunic."
Howe read Washington's note, smiled, thanked the soldier who had ridden 25 miles with the dog in tow, and retired to his tent. Only then did Howe find a second note hidden under the dog's collar. It was from Washington himself.
"Whilst he stroked the dog, he discovered a tightly folded message that had been secreted under the dog's wide collar," Howe's soldier wrote. "The General read the message, which seemed to have a good effect upon him. Although I know not what it said, it is likely to have been penned by the commander of the rebellion."
Howe never told a soul what that letter from Washington read, but it had such a profound affect on him that for the rest of the war, he referred to Washington in glowing terms. Finally, this ruffian, this simpleton was as respected by his enemies as he was in the Colonies.
And all because he returned the General's dog, which Howe called "an honorable act of a gentleman."