Conway was badly wounded, and thinking himself dying, wrote a contrite note of apology to Washington, then recovered, left the country, and disappeared from the ken of history.

Thus domestic malice and the "bitter party" in Congress failed and perished.

They had dashed themselves in vain against the strong man who held firmly both soldiers and people.
"While the public are satisfied with my endeavors, I mean not to shrink from the cause." So Washington wrote to Gordon as the cabal was coming to an end, and in that spirit he crushed silently and thoroughly the faction that sought to thwart his purpose, and drive him from office by sneers, slights, and intrigues.
These attacks upon him came at the darkest moment of his military career.

Defeated at Brandywine and Germantown, he had been forced from the forts after a desperate struggle, had seen Philadelphia and the river fall completely into the hands of the enemy, and, bitterest of all, he had been obliged to hold back from another assault on the British lines, and to content himself with baffling Howe when that gentleman came out and offered battle.

Then the enemy withdrew to their comfortable quarters, and he was left to face again the harsh winter and the problem of existence.