The conference was useful in making the respective commanders well acquainted with each other, and promoting a spirit of harmony between them; but it led to no settled plan for the next campaign. A plan of operations for the combined forces, which had been drawn up by Washington and sent to Rochambeau by Lafayette when he went to Newport, had contemplated the superiority of the naval force of the French, which had now ceased to exist in consequence of the arrival of Admiral Graves with a fleet of six ships of the line. It was consequently agreed that nothing could be done in the way of offensive movements until the arrival of a second division of the French fleet and army from Brest, which was expected, or that of the Count de Guichen from the West Indies. In the sequel, neither of these arrivals took place. The second French division was blockaded at Brest, and never came to this country, and de Guichen sailed direct to France from the West Indies. Meantime Admiral Arbuthnot blockaded the French fleet at Newport, and Rochambeau's army remained there for its protection. Both the parties remained watching each other's movements, and depending on the operations of the British and French fleets. Washington crossed the Hudson to Tappan and remained there till winter. Washington did not relinquish without infinite chagrin the sanguine expectations he had formed of rendering this campaign decisive of the war. Never before had he indulged so strongly the hope of happily terminating the contest. In a letter to an intimate friend, this chagrin was thus expressed: "We are now drawing to a close an inactive campaign, the beginning of which appeared pregnant with events of a very favorable complexion. I hoped, but I hoped in vain, that a prospect was opening which would enable me to fix a period to my military pursuits and restore me to domestic life. The favorable disposition of Spain, the promised succor from France, the combined force in the West Indies, the declaration of Russia (acceded to by other powers of Europe, humiliating the naval pride and power of Great Britain), the superiority of France and Spain by sea in Europe, the Irish claims and English disturbances, formed in the aggregate an opinion in my breast (which is not very susceptible of peaceful dreams), that the hour of deliverance was not far distant; for that, however unwilling Great Britain might be to yield the point, it would not be in her power to continue the contest. But, alas, these prospects, flattering as they were, have proved delusive, and I see nothing before us but accumulating distress. We have been half of our time without provisions and are likely to continue so. We have no magazines nor money to form them. We have lived upon expedients until we can live no longer. In a word, the history of the war is a history of false hopes and temporary devices, instead of system and economy. It is in vain, however, to look back, nor is it our business to do so.