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LIFE
OF
GEORGE WASHINGTON.
Col. John Trumbull.
(Engraved by the Anastatic process)
From Houdon’s Bust.
BY
WASHINGTON IRVING.
VOL. III.
NEW YORK: GEO. P. PUTNAM.
1860.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856
By G. P. PUTNAM & CO.,
in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern
District of New York.
John F. Trow,
Printer, Stereotyper, and Electrotyper,
46, 48 & 50 Greene Street,
Between Grand & Broome, New York.
NOTE TO THE THIRD VOLUME.
When the Author commenced the publication of this work, he informed
his Publishers that he should probably complete it in three volumes. What
he gave as a probability, they understood as a certainty, and worded their
advertisements accordingly. His theme has unexpectedly expanded under his
pen, and he now lays his third volume before the public, with his task yet unaccomplished.
He hopes this may not cause unpleasant disappointment. To
present a familiar and truthful picture of the Revolution and the personages
concerned in it, required much detail and copious citations, that the scenes
might be placed in a proper light, and the characters introduced might speak
for themselves, and have space in which to play their parts.
The kindness with which the first two volumes have been received, has
encouraged the author to pursue the plan he had adopted, and inspires the
hope that the public good-will which has cheered him through so long a period
of devious authorship, will continue with him to the approaching close of
his career.
Sunnyside, June, 1856.
CONTENTS OF VOL. III. — CHAPTER I.
vii
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Burke on the State of Affairs in America—New Jersey Roused to Arms—Washington grants Safe Conduct to Hessian Convoys—Encampment at Morristown—Putnam at Princeton—His Stratagem to Conceal the Weakness of his Camp—Exploit of General Dickinson near Somerset Court House—Washington’s Counter Proclamation—Prevalence of the Small-pox—Inoculation of the Army—Contrast of the British and American Commanders and their Camps,
Negotiations for Exchange of Prisoners—Case of Colonel Ethan Allen—Of General Lee—Correspondence of Washington with Sir William Howe about Exchanges of Prisoners—Referees Appointed—Letters of Lee from New York—Case of Colonel Campbell—Washington’s Advice to Congress on the Subject of Retaliation—His Correspondence with Lord Howe about the Treatment of Prisoners—The Horrors of the Jersey Prison-Ship and the Sugar House,
Exertions to Form a New Army—Calls on the Different States—Insufficiency of the Militia—Washington’s Care for the Yeomanry—Dangers in the Northern Department—Winter Attack on Ticonderoga Apprehended—Exertions to Reinforce Schuyler—Precarious State of Washington’s Army—Conjectures as to the Designs of the Enemy—Expedition of the British against Peekskill,
Schuyler’s Affairs in the Northern Department—Misunderstandings with Congress—Gives offence by a Reproachful Letter—Office of Adjutant-General offered to Gates—Declined by him—Schuyler Reprimanded by Congress for his Reproachful Letter—Gates Appointed to the Command at Ticonderoga—Schuyler considers himself Virtually Suspended—Takes his Seat as a Delegate to Congress, and Claims a Court of Inquiry—Has Command at Philadelphia,
Foreign Officers Candidates for Situations in the Army—Difficulties in Adjusting Questions of Rank—Ducoudray—Conway—Kosciuszko—Washington’s Guards—Arnold Omitted in the Army Promotions—Washington takes his part—British Expedition against Danbury—Destruction of American Stores—Connecticut Yeomanry in Arms—Skirmish at Ridgefield—Death of General Wooster—Gallant Services of Arnold—Rewarded by Congress—Exploit of Colonel Meigs at Sag Harbor,
Schuyler on the Point of Resigning—Committee of Inquiry Report in his Favor—His Memorial to Congress proves Satisfactory—Discussions Regarding the Northern Department—Gates Mistaken as to his Position—He Prompts his Friends in Congress—His Petulant Letter to Washington—Dignified Reply of the Latter—Position of Gates Defined—Schuyler Reinstated in Command of the Department—Gates Appears on the Floor of Congress—His Proceedings there,
The Highland Passes of the Hudson—George Clinton in Command of the Forts—His Measures for Defence—Generals Greene and Knox examine the State of the Forts—Their Report—The General Command of the Hudson offered to Arnold—Declined by Him—Given to Putnam—Appointment of Dr. Craik in the Medical Department—Expedition Planned against Fort Independence—But Relinquished—Washington Shifts his Camp to Middlebrook—State of his Army—General Howe Crosses into the Jerseys—Position of the two Armies at Middlebrook and behind the Raritan—Correspondence between Washington and Colonel Reed,
Feigned Movements of Sir William Howe—Baffling Caution of Washington—Rumored Inroads from the North—Schuyler applies for Reinforcements—Renewed schemes of Howe to draw Washington from his Stronghold—Skirmish between Cornwallis and Lord Stirling—The Enemy Evacuate the Jerseys—Perplexity as to their next Movement—A Hostile Fleet on Lake Champlain—Burgoyne approaching Ticonderoga—Speculations of Washington—His Purpose of keeping Sir William Howe from ascending the Hudson—Orders George Clinton to call out Militia from Ulster and Orange Counties—Sends Sullivan towards the Highlands—Moves his own Camp back to Morristown—Stir among the Shipping—Their Destination surmised to be Philadelphia—A Dinner at Head-Quarters—Alexander Hamilton—Graydon’s Rueful Description of the Army—His Character of Wayne,
ixBritish Invasion from Canada—The Plan—Composition of the Invading Army—Schuyler on the Alert—His Speculations as to the Enemy’s Designs—Burgoyne on Lake Champlain—His War-Speech to his Indian Allies—Signs of his Approach descried from Ticonderoga—Correspondence on the Subject between St. Clair, Major Livingston, and Schuyler—Burgoyne Intrenches near Ticonderoga—His Proclamation—Schuyler’s Exertions at Albany to forward Reinforcements—Hears that Ticonderoga is Evacuated—Mysterious Disappearance of St. Clair and his Troops—Amazement and Concern of Washington—Orders Reinforcements to Schuyler at Fort Edward, and to Putnam at Peekskill—Advances with his Main Army to the Clove—His Hopeful Spirit manifested,
Particulars of the Evacuation—Indian Scouts in the vicinity of the Fort—Outposts abandoned by St. Clair—Burgoyne secures Mount Hope—Invests the Fortress—Seizes and Occupies Sugar Hill—The Forts overlooked and in Imminent Peril—Determination to Evacuate—Plan of Retreat—Part of the Garrison depart for Skenesborough in the Flotilla—St. Clair crosses with the rest to Fort Independence—A Conflagration Reveals his Retreat—The British Camp aroused—Fraser Pursues St. Clair—Burgoyne with his Squadron makes after the Flotilla—Part of the Fugitives overtaken—Flight of the Remainder to Fort Anne—Skirmish of Colonel Long—Retreat to Fort Edward—St. Clair at Castleton—Attack of his Rear-Guard—Fall of Colonel Francis—Desertion of Colonel Hale—St. Clair reaches Fort Edward—Consternation of the Country—Exultation of the British,
Capture of General Prescott—Proffered in Exchange for Lee—Reinforcements to Schuyler—Arnold sent to the North—Eastern Militia to repair to Saratoga—Further Reinforcements—Generals Lincoln and Arnold recommended for Particular Services—Washington’s Measures and Suggestions for the Northern Campaign—British Fleet puts to Sea—Conjectures as to its Destination—A Feigned Letter—Appearance and Disappearance of the Fleet—Orders and Counter Orders of Washington—Encamps at Germantown—Anxiety for the Security of the Highlands—George Clinton on Guard—Call on Connecticut,
Gates on the Alert for a Command—Schuyler Undermined in Congress—Put on his Guard—Courts a Scrutiny, but not before an expected Engagement—Summoned with St. Clair to Head-Quarters—Gates appointed to the Northern Department—Washington’s Speculations on the Successes of Burgoyne—Ill-judged Meddlings of Congress with the Commissariat—Colonel Trumbull Resigns in consequence,
Washington’s Perplexities about the British Fleet—Putnam and Governor Clinton put on the Alert in the Highlands—Morgan and his Riflemen sent to the North—Washington at Philadelphia—His first Interview with Lafayette—Intelligence about the Fleet—Explanations of its Movements—Review of the Army—Lafayette Mistakes the nature of his Commission—His Alliance with Washington—March of the Army through Philadelphia—Encampment at Wilmington,
Burgoyne at Skenesborough—Prepares to Move towards the Hudson—Major Skene the Royalist—Slow March to Fort Anne—Schuyler at Fort Miller—Painted Warriors—Langdale—St. Luc—Honor of the Tomahawk—Tragical Story of Miss McCrea—Its Results—Burgoyne Advances to Fort Edward—Schuyler at Stillwater—Joined by Lincoln—Burgoyne deserted by his Indian Allies,
Difficulties of Burgoyne—Plans an Expedition to Bennington—St. Leger before Fort Stanwix—General Herkimer at Oriskany—High Words with his Officers—A Dogged March—An Ambuscade—Battle of Oriskany—Johnson’s Greens—Death of Herkimer—Spirited Sortie of Colonel Willett—Sir John Johnson driven to the River—Flight of the Indians—Sacking of Sir John’s Camp—Colonel Gansevoort maintains his Post—Colonel Willett sent in quest of Aid—Arrives at Schuyler’s Camp,
Schuyler hears of the Affair of Oriskany—Applies for Reinforcements—His Appeal to the Patriotism of Stark—Schuyler Superseded—His Conduct thereupon—Relief sent to Fort Stanwix—Arnold Volunteers to conduct it—Change of Encampment—Patriotic Determination of Schuyler—Detachment of the Enemy against Bennington—Germans and their Indian Allies—Baum, the Hessian Leader—Stark in the Field—Mustering of the Militia—A Belligerent Parson—Battle of Bennington—Breyman to the Rescue—Routed—Reception of the News in the Rival Camps—Washington urges New England to follow up the Blow,
Stratagem of Arnold to relieve Fort Stanwix—Yan Yost Cuyler—The Siege Pressed—Indians Intractable—Success of Arnold’s Stratagem—Harassed Retreat of St. Leger—Moral Effect of the two Blows given to the Enemy—Brightening Prospects in the American Camp—Arrival of Gates—Magnanimous Conduct of Schuyler—Poorly requited by Gates—Correspondence between Gates and Burgoyne concerning the Murder of Miss McCrea,
Landing of Howe’s Army on Elk River—Measures to Check it—Exposed Situation of Washington in Reconnoitring—Alarm of the Country—Proclamation of Howe—Arrival of Sullivan—Foreign Officers in Camp—Deborre—Conway—Fleury—Count Pulaski—First Appearance in the Army of “Light-Horse Harry” of Virginia—Washington’s Appeal to the Army—Movements of the Rival Forces—Battle of the Brandywine—Retreat of the Americans—Halt in Chester—Scenes in Philadelphia during the Battle—Congress Orders out Militia—Clothes Washington with Extraordinary Powers—Removes to Lancaster—Rewards to Foreign Officers,
General Howe neglects to pursue his Advantage—Washington Retreats to Germantown—Recrosses the Schuylkill and prepares for another Action—Prevented by Storms of Rain—Retreats to French Creek—Wayne detached to Fall on the Enemy’s Rear—His Pickets Surprised—Massacre of Smallwood’s Men—Manœuvres of Howe on the Schuylkill—Washington sends for Reinforcements—Howe marches into Philadelphia,
Dubious Position of Burgoyne—Collects his Forces—Ladies of Distinction in his Camp—Lady Harriet Ackland—The Baroness de Riedesel—American Army reinforced—Silent Movements of Burgoyne—Watched from the Summit of the Hills—His March along the Hudson—Position of the two Camps—Battle on the 19th Sept.—Burgoyne Encamps nearer—Fortifies his Camp—Promised Co-operation by Sir Henry Clinton—Determines to await it—Quarrel between Gates and Arnold—Arnold deprived of Command—Burgoyne waits for Co-operation,
Preparations of Sir Henry Clinton—State of the Highland Defences—Putnam Alarmed—Advance of the Armament up the Hudson—Plan of Sir Henry Clinton—Peekskill Threatened—Putnam Deceived—Secret March of the Enemy through the Mountains—Forts Montgomery and Clinton Overpowered—Narrow Escape of the Commanders—Conflagration and Explosion of the American Frigates—Rallying Efforts of Putnam and Governor Clinton—The Spy and the Silver Bullet—Esopus Burnt—Ravaging Progress of the Enemy up the Hudson,
Scarcity in the British Camp—Gates bides his Time—Foraging Movement of Burgoyne—Battle of the 7th October—Rout of the British and Hessians—Situation of the Baroness Riedesel and Lady Harriet Ackland during the Battle—Death of Gen. Fraser—His Funeral—Night Retreat of the British—Expedition of Lady Harriet Ackland—Desperate Situation of Burgoyne at Saratoga—Capitulation—Surrender—Conduct of the American Troops—Scenes in the Camp—Gallant Courtesy of Schuyler to the Baroness Riedesel—His Magnanimous Conduct towards Burgoyne—Return of the British Ships down the Hudson,
Washington Advances to Skippack Creek—The British Fleet in the Delaware—Forts and Obstructions in the River—Washington Meditates an Attack on the British Camp—Battle of Germantown,
Washington at White Marsh—Measures to cut off the Enemy’s Supplies—The Forts on the Delaware Reinforced—Colonel Greene of Rhode Island at Fort Mercer—Attack and Defence of that Fort—Death of Count Donop,
De Kalb Commissioned Major-General—Pretensions of Conway—Thwarted by Washington—Conway Cabal—Gates remiss in Correspondence—Dilatory in Forwarding Troops—Mission of Hamilton to Gates—Wilkinson Bearer of Despatches to Congress—A Tardy Traveller—His Reward—Conway Correspondence Detected—Washington’s Apology for his Army,
Further Hostilities on the Delaware—Fort Mifflin Attacked—Bravely Defended—Reduced—Mission of Hamilton to Gates—Visits the Camps of Governor Clinton and Putnam on the Hudson—Putnam on his Hobby-Horse—Difficulties in procuring Reinforcements—Intrigues of the Cabal—Letters of Lovell and Mifflin to Gates—The Works at Red Rank Destroyed—The Enemy in Possession of the Delaware,
Question of an Attack on Philadelphia—General Reed at Head-Quarters—Enemy’s Works Reconnoitred—Opinions in a Council of War—Exploit of Lafayette—Receives Command of a Division—Modification of the Board of War—Gates to Preside—Letter of Lovell—Sally Forth of General Howe—Evolutions and Skirmishes—Conway Inspector-general—Consultation about Winter-Quarters—Dreary March to Valley Forge—Hutting—Washington’s Vindicatory Letters—Retrospect of the Year,
Gates on the Ascendant—The Conway Letter—Suspicions—Consequent Correspondence between Gates and Washington—Warning Letter from Dr. Craik—Anonymous Letters—Projected Expedition to Canada—Lafayette, Gates, and the Board of War,
Gates undertakes to explain the Conway Correspondence—Washington’s Searching Analysis of the Explanation—Close of the Correspondence—Spurious Letters Published—Lafayette and the Canada Expedition—His Perplexities—Counsels of Washington,
More Trouble about the Conway Letter—Correspondence between Lord Stirling and Wilkinson—Wilkinson’s Honor Wounded—His Passage at Arms with General Gates—His Seat at the Board of War uncomfortable—Determines that Lord Stirling shall Bleed—His Wounded Honor Healed—His Interviews with Washington—Sees the Correspondence of Gates—Denounces Gates and gives up the Secretaryship—Is thrown out of Employ—Closing Remarks on the Conway Cabal,
Committee of Arrangement—Reforms in the Army—Scarcity in the Camp—The Enemy revel in Philadelphia—Attempt to Surprise Light-Horse Harry—His Gallant Defence—Praised by Washington—Promoted—Letter from General Lee—Burgoyne returns to England—Mrs. Washington at Valley Forge—Bryan Fairfax visits the Camp—Arrival of the Baron Steuben—His Character—Disciplines the Army—Greene made Quartermaster-general,
Fortifications of the Hudson—Project to Surprise Sir Henry Clinton—General Howe Forages the Jerseys—Ships and Stores Burnt at Bordentown—Plans for the Next Campaign—Gates and Mifflin under Washington’s Command—Downfall of Conway—Lord North’s Conciliatory Bills—Sent to Washington by Governor Tryon—Resolves of Congress—Letter of Washington to Tryon—Rejoicing at Valley Forge—The Mischianza,
Lafayette Detached to keep Watch on Philadelphia—His Position at Barren Hill—Plan of Sir Henry to Entrap him—Washington Alarmed for his Safety—Stratagem of the Marquis—Exchange of General Lee and Colonel Ethan Allen—Allen at Valley Forge—Washington’s Opinion of him—Preparations in Philadelphia to Evacuate—Washington’s Measures in consequence—Arrival of Commissioners from England—Their Disappointment—Their Proceedings—Their Failure—Their Manifesto,
Preparations to Evacuate Philadelphia—Washington calls a Council of War—Lee Opposed to any Attack—Philadelphia Evacuated—Movements in pursuit of Sir Henry Clinton—Another Council of War—Conflict of Opinions—Contradictory Conduct of Lee respecting the Command—The Battle of Monmouth Court House—Subsequent March of the Armies,
Arrival of a French Fleet—Correspondence of Washington and the Count D’Estaing—Plans of the Count—Perturbation at New York—Excitement in the French Fleet—Expedition against Rhode Island—Operations by Sea and Land—Failure of the Expedition—Irritation between the Allied Forces—Considerate Letter of Washington to the Count D’Estaing,
Indian Warfare—Desolation of the Valley of Wyoming—Movements in New York—Counter Movements of Washington—Foraging Parties of the Enemy—Baylor’s Dragoons Massacred at Old Tappan—British Expedition against Little Egg Harbor—Massacre of Pulaski’s Infantry—Retaliation on Donop’s Rangers—Arrival of Admiral Byron—Endeavors to Entrap D’Estaing, but is Disappointed—Expedition against St. Lucia—Expedition against Georgia—Capture of Savannah—Georgia Subdued—General Lincoln sent to Command in the South,
Winter Cantonments of the American Army—Washington at Middlebrook—Plan of Alarm Signals for the Jerseys—Lafayette’s Project for an Invasion of Canada—Favored by Congress—Condemned by Washington—Relinquished—Washington in Philadelphia—The War Spirit Declining—Dissensions in Congress—Sectional Feelings—Patriotic Appeals of Washington—Plans for the Next Campaign—Indian Atrocities to be Repressed—Avenging Expedition set on foot—Discontents of the Jersey Troops—Appeased by the Interference of Washington—Successful Campaign against the Indians,
Predatory Warfare of the Enemy—Ravages in the Chesapeake—Hostilities on the Hudson—Verplanck’s Point and Stony Point Taken—Capture of New Haven—Fairfield and Norwalk Destroyed—Washington Plans a Counter Stroke—Storming of Stony Point—Generous Letter of Lee,
Expedition against Penobscot—Night Surprisal of Paulus Hook—Washington Fortifies West Point—His Style of Living there—Table at Head-Quarters—Sir Henry Clinton Reinforced—Arrival of D’Estaing on the Coast of Georgia—Plans in Consequence—The French Minister at Washington’s Highland Camp—Letter to Lafayette—D’Estaing Co-operates with Lincoln—Repulsed at Savannah—Washington Reinforces Lincoln—Goes into Winter-Quarters—Sir Henry Clinton sends an Expedition to the South,
BURKE ON THE STATE OF AFFAIRS IN AMERICA—NEW JERSEY ROUSED TO
ARMS—WASHINGTON GRANTS SAFE CONDUCT TO HESSIAN CONVOYS—ENCAMPMENT
AT MORRISTOWN—PUTNAM AT PRINCETON—HIS STRATAGEM TO
CONCEAL THE WEAKNESS OF HIS CAMP—EXPLOIT OF GENERAL DICKINSON
NEAR SOMERSET COURT HOUSE—WASHINGTON’S COUNTER PROCLAMATION—PREVALENCE
OF THE SMALL-POX—INOCULATION OF THE ARMY—CONTRAST
OF THE BRITISH AND AMERICAN COMMANDERS AND THEIR CAMPS.
The news of Washington’s recrossing the Delaware, and of his
subsequent achievements in the Jerseys, had not reached London
on the 9th of January. “The affairs of America seem to be
drawing to a crisis,” writes Edmund Burke. “The Howes are
at this time in possession of, or able to awe the whole middle
coast of America, from Delaware to the western boundary of
Massachusetts Bay; the naval barrier on the side of Canada is
broken. A great tract is open for the supply of the troops; the
river Hudson opens a way into the heart of the provinces, and
nothing can, in all probability, prevent an early and offensive
2campaign. What the Americans have done is, in their circumstances,
truly astonishing; it is indeed infinitely more than I
expected from them. But, having done so much for some short
time, I began to entertain an opinion that they might do more.
It is now, however, evident that they cannot look standing armies
in the face. They are inferior in every thing—even in numbers.
There seem by the best accounts not to be above ten or twelve
thousand men at most in their grand army. The rest are militia,
and not wonderfully well composed or disciplined. They decline
a general engagement; prudently enough, if their object had been
to make the war attend upon a treaty of good terms of subjection;
but when they look further, this will not do. An army
that is obliged at all times, and in all situations, to decline an
engagement, may delay their ruin, but can never defend their
country.”[1]
At the time when this was written, the Howes had learnt to
their mortification, that “the mere running through a province,
is not subduing it.” The British commanders had been outgeneralled,
attacked and defeated. They had nearly been driven out
of the Jerseys, and were now hemmed in and held in check by
Washington and his handful of men castled among the heights of
Morristown. So far from holding possession of the territory
they had so recently overrun, they were fain to ask safe conduct
across it for a convoy to their soldiers captured in battle. It
must have been a severe trial to the pride of Cornwallis, when
he had to inquire by letter of Washington, whether money and
stores could be sent to the Hessians captured at Trenton, and a
surgeon and medicines to the wounded at Princeton; and Washington’s
reply must have conveyed a reproof still more mortifying:
3No molestation, he assured his lordship, would be offered
to the convoy by any part of the regular army under his command;
but “he could not answer for the militia, who were resorting
to arms in most parts of the State, and were excessively
exasperated at the treatment they had met with from both Hessian
and British troops.”
In fact, the conduct of the enemy had roused the whole country
against them. The proclamations and printed protections of
the British commanders, on the faith of which the inhabitants in
general had staid at home, and forbore to take up arms, had
proved of no avail. The Hessians could not or would not understand
them, but plundered friend and foe alike.[2] The British
soldiery often followed their example, and the plunderings of
both were at times attended by those brutal outrages on the
weaker sex, which inflame the dullest spirits to revenge. The
whole State was thus roused against its invaders. In Washington’s
retreat of more than a hundred miles through the Jerseys,
he had never been joined by more than one hundred of its inhabitants;
now sufferers of both parties rose as one man to avenge
their personal injuries. The late quiet yeomanry armed themselves,
and scoured the country in small parties to seize on stragglers,
and the militia began to signalize themselves in voluntary
skirmishes with regular troops.
In effect, Washington ordered a safe conduct to be given to
the Hessian baggage as far as Philadelphia, and to the surgeon
and medicines to Princeton, and permitted a Hessian sergeant
4and twelve men, unarmed, to attend the baggage until it was
delivered to their countrymen.
Morristown, where the main army was encamped, had not
been chosen by Washington as a permanent post, but merely as
a halting place, where his troops might repose after their excessive
fatigues and their sufferings from the inclement season.
Further considerations persuaded him that it was well situated
for the system of petty warfare which he meditated, and induced
him to remain there. It was protected by forests and rugged
heights. All approach from the seaboard was rendered difficult
and dangerous to a hostile force by a chain of sharp hills, extending
from Pluckamin, by Boundbrook and Springfield, to the
vicinity of the Passaic River, while various defiles in the rear
afforded safer retreats into a fertile and well peopled region.[3]
It was nearly equidistant from Amboy, Newark, and Brunswick,
the principal posts of the enemy; so that any movement made
from them could be met by a counter movement on his part;
while the forays and skirmishes by which he might harass them,
would school and season his own troops. He had three faithful
generals with him: Greene, his reliance on all occasions; swarthy
Sullivan, whose excitable temper and quick sensibilities he had
sometimes to keep in check by friendly counsels and rebukes, but
who was a good officer, and loyally attached to him; and brave,
genial, generous Knox, never so happy as when by his side. He
had lately been advanced to the rank of brigadier at his recommendation,
and commanded the artillery.
Washington’s military family at this time was composed of
his aides-de-camp, Colonels Meade and Tench Tilghman of Philadelphia;
gentlemen of gallant spirit, amiable tempers and cultivated
5manners; and his secretary, Colonel Robert H. Harrison
of Maryland; the “old secretary,” as he was familiarly called
among his associates, and by whom he was described as “one in
whom every man had confidence, and by whom no man was
deceived.”
Washington’s head-quarters at first were in what was called
the Freemason’s Tavern, on the north side of the village green.
His troops were encamped about the vicinity of the village, at
first in tents, until they could build log huts for shelter against
the winter’s cold. The main encampment was near Bottle Hill,
in a sheltered valley which was thickly wooded, and had abundant
springs. It extended south-easterly from Morristown;
and was called the Lowantica Valley, from the Indian name of
a beautiful limpid brook which ran through it, and lost itself in
a great swamp.[4]
The enemy being now concentrated at New Brunswick and
Amboy, General Putnam was ordered by Washington to move
from Crosswicks to Princeton, with the troops under his command.
He was instructed to draw his forage as much as possible
from the neighborhood of Brunswick, about eighteen miles
off, thereby contributing to distress the enemy; to have good
scouting parties continually on the look-out; to keep nothing
with him but what could be moved off at a moment’s warning,
and, if compelled to leave Princeton, to retreat towards the
mountains, so as to form a junction with the forces at Morristown.
Putnam had with him but a few hundred men. “You will
give out your strength to be twice as great as it is,” writes Washington;
a common expedient with him in those times of scanty
6means. Putnam acted up to the advice. A British officer, Captain
Macpherson, was lying desperately wounded at Princeton,
and Putnam, in the kindness of his heart, was induced to send in
a flag to Brunswick in quest of a friend and military comrade
of the dying man, to attend him in his last moments and make
his will. To prevent the weakness of the garrison from being
discovered, the visitor was brought in after dark. Lights gleamed
in all the college windows, and in the vacant houses about the
town; the handful of troops capable of duty were marched
hither and thither and backward and forward, and paraded about
to such effect, that the visitor on his return to the British camp,
reported the force under the old general to be at least five thousand
strong.[5]
Cantonments were gradually formed between Princeton and
the Highlands of the Hudson, which made the left flank of
Washington’s position, and where General Heath had command.
General Philemon Dickinson, who commanded the New Jersey
militia, was stationed on the west side of Millstone River, near
Somerset court house, one of the nearest posts to the enemy’s
camp at Brunswick. A British foraging party, of five or six
hundred strong, sent out by Cornwallis with forty waggons and
upward of a hundred draught horses, mostly of the English breed,
having collected sheep and cattle about the country, were sacking
a mill on the opposite side of the river, where a large quantity
of flour was deposited. While thus employed, Dickinson
set upon them with a force equal in number, but composed of
raw militia and fifty Philadelphia riflemen. He dashed through
the river, waist deep, with his men, and charged the enemy so
suddenly and vigorously, that, though supported by three field-pieces,
7they gave way, left their convoy, and retreated so precipitately,
that he made only nine prisoners. A number of killed
and wounded were carried off by the fugitives on light waggons.[6]
These exploits of the militia were noticed with high encomiums
by Washington, while at the same time he was rigid in prohibiting
and punishing the excesses into which men are apt to
run when suddenly clothed with military power. Such is the
spirit of a general order issued at this time. “The general prohibits,
in both the militia and Continental troops, the infamous
practice of plundering the inhabitants under the specious pretence
of their being tories. * * * It is our business to give
protection and support to the poor distressed inhabitants, not to
multiply and increase their calamities.” After the publication
of this order, all excesses of this kind were to be punished in the
severest manner.
To counteract the proclamation of the British commissioners,
promising amnesty to all in rebellion who should, in a given
time, return to their allegiance, Washington now issued a counter
proclamation (Jan. 25th), commanding every person who had subscribed
a declaration of fidelity to Great Britain, or taken an
oath of allegiance, to repair within thirty days to head-quarters,
or the quarters of the nearest general officer of the Continental
army or of the militia, and there take the oath of allegiance to
the United States of America, and give up any protection, certificate,
or passport he might have received from the enemy; at
the same time granting full liberty to all such as preferred the
interest and protection of Great Britain to the freedom and happiness
of their country, forthwith to withdraw themselves and
families within the enemy’s lines. All who should neglect or
8refuse to comply with this order were to be considered adherents
to the crown, and treated as common enemies.
This measure met with objections at the time, some of the
timid or over-cautious thinking it inexpedient; others, jealous of
the extraordinary powers vested in Washington, questioning
whether he had not transcended these powers and exercised a
degree of despotism.
The small-pox, which had been fatally prevalent in the preceding
year, had again broken out, and Washington feared it
might spread through the whole army. He took advantage of
the interval of comparative quiet to have his troops inoculated.
Houses were set apart in various places as hospitals for inoculation,
and a church was appropriated for the use of those who had
taken the malady in the natural way. Among these the ravages
were frightful. The traditions of the place and neighborhood,
give lamentable pictures of the distress caused by this loathsome
disease in the camp and in the villages, wherever it had not been
parried by inoculation.
“Washington,” we are told, “was not an unmoved spectator
of the griefs around him, and might be seen in Hanover and in
Lowantica Valley, cheering the faith and inspiring the courage
of his suffering men.”[7] It was this paternal care and sympathy
which attached his troops personally to him. They saw that he
regarded them, not with the eye of a general, but of a patriot,
whose heart yearned towards them as countrymen suffering in
one common cause.
A striking contrast was offered throughout the winter and
spring, between the rival commanders, Howe at New York, and
Washington at Morristown. Howe was a soldier by profession.
9War, with him, was a career. The camp was, for the time,
country and home. Easy and indolent by nature, of convivial
and luxurious habits, and somewhat addicted to gaming, he found
himself in good quarters at New York, and was in no hurry to
leave them. The tories rallied around him. The British merchants
residing there regarded him with profound devotion. His
officers, too, many of them young men of rank and fortune, gave
a gayety and brilliancy to the place; and the wealthy royalists
forgot in a round of dinners, balls and assemblies, the hysterical
alarms they had once experienced under the military sway of
Lee.
Washington, on the contrary, was a patriot soldier, grave,
earnest, thoughtful, self-sacrificing. War, to him, was a painful
remedy, hateful in itself, but adopted for a great national good.
To the prosecution of it all his pleasures, his comforts, his natural
inclinations and private interests were sacrificed; and his
chosen officers were earnest and anxious like himself, with their
whole thoughts directed to the success of the magnanimous struggle
in which they were engaged.
So, too, the armies were contrasted. The British troops,
many of them, perchance, slightly metamorphosed from vagabonds
into soldiers, all mere men of the sword, were well clad,
well housed, and surrounded by all the conveniences of a thoroughly
appointed army with a “rebel country” to forage. The
American troops for the most part were mere yeomanry, taken
from their rural homes; ill sheltered, ill clad, ill fed, and ill
paid, with nothing to reconcile them to their hardships but love
for the soil they were defending, and the inspiring thought that
it was their country. Washington, with paternal care, endeavored
to protect them from the depraving influences of the camp.
10“Let vice and immorality of every kind be discouraged as much
as possible in your brigade,” writes he in a circular to his brigadier-generals;
“and, as a chaplain is allowed to each regiment,
see that the men regularly attend divine worship. Gaming of
every kind is expressly forbidden, as being the foundation of
evil, and the cause of many a brave and gallant officer’s ruin.”
CHAPTER II.
11
NEGOTIATIONS FOR EXCHANGE OF PRISONERS—CASE OF COLONEL ETHAN ALLEN—OF
GENERAL LEE—CORRESPONDENCE OF WASHINGTON WITH SIR WILLIAM
HOWE ABOUT EXCHANGES OF PRISONERS—REFEREES APPOINTED—LETTERS
OF LEE FROM NEW YORK—CASE OF COLONEL CAMPBELL—WASHINGTON’S
ADVICE TO CONGRESS ON THE SUBJECT OF RETALIATION—HIS
CORRESPONDENCE WITH LORD HOWE ABOUT THE TREATMENT OF PRISONERS—THE
HORRORS OF THE JERSEY PRISON-SHIP AND THE SUGAR HOUSE.
A cartel for the exchange of prisoners had been a subject of
negotiation previous to the affair of Trenton, without being
adjusted. The British commanders were slow to recognize the
claims to equality of those they considered rebels; Washington
was tenacious in holding them up as patriots ennobled by their
cause.
Among the cases which came up for attention was that of
Ethan Allen, the brave, but eccentric captor of Ticonderoga. His
daring attempts in the “path of renown” had cost him a world of
hardships. Thrown into irons as a felon; threatened with a
halter; carried to England to be tried for treason; confined in
Pendennis Castle; retransported to Halifax, and now a prisoner
in New York. “I have suffered every thing short of death,”
writes he to the Assembly of his native State, Connecticut. He
had, however, recovered health and suppleness of limb, and with
12them all his swelling spirit and swelling rhetoric. “I am fired,”
writes he, “with adequate indignation to revenge both my own
and my country’s wrongs. I am experimentally certain I have
fortitude sufficient to face the invaders of America in the place
of danger, spread with all the horrors of war.” And he concludes
with one of his magniloquent, but really sincere expressions
of patriotism: “Provided you can hit upon some measure to
procure my liberty, I will appropriate my remaining days, and
freely hazard my life in the service of the colony, and maintaining
the American Empire. I thought to have enrolled my
name in the list of illustrious American heroes, but was nipped
in the bud!”[8]
Honest Ethan Allen! his name will ever stand enrolled on
that list; not illustrious, perhaps, but eminently popular.
His appeal to his native State had produced an appeal to
Congress, and Washington had been instructed, considering his
long imprisonment, to urge his exchange. This had scarce been
urged, when tidings of the capture of General Lee presented a
case of still greater importance to be provided for. “I feel
much for his misfortune,” writes Washington, “and am sensible
that in his captivity our country has lost a warm friend and an
able officer.” By direction of Congress, he had sent in a flag to
inquire about Lee’s treatment, and to convey him a sum of
money. This was just previous to the second crossing of the
Delaware.
Lee was now reported to be in rigorous confinement in New
York, and treated with harshness and indignity. The British
professed to consider him a deserter, he having been a lieutenant-colonel
in their service, although he alleged that he had
resigned his commission before joining the American army
13Two letters which he addressed to General Howe, were returned
to him unopened, enclosed in a cover directed to Lieutenant-colonel
Lee.
On the 13th of January, Washington addressed the following
letter to Sir William Howe. “I am directed by Congress
to propose an exchange of five of the Hessian field-officers taken
at Trenton for Major-general Lee; or if this proposal should not
be accepted, to demand his liberty upon parole, within certain
bounds, as has ever been granted to your officers in our custody.
I am informed, upon good authority, that your reason for keeping
him hitherto in stricter confinement than usual is, that you do
not look upon him in the light of a common prisoner of war, but
as a deserter from the British service, as his resignation has never
been accepted, and that you intend to try him as such by a
court-martial. I will not undertake to determine how far this
doctrine may be justifiable among yourselves, but I must give you
warning that Major-general Lee is looked upon as an officer
belonging to, and under the protection of the United Independent
States of America, and that any violence you may commit upon his
life and liberty, will be severely retaliated upon the lives or liberties
of the British officers, or those of their foreign allies in our hands.”
In this letter he likewise adverted to the treatment of American
prisoners in New York; several who had recently been
released, having given the most shocking account of the barbarities
they had experienced, “which their miserable, emaciated
countenances confirmed.”—“I would beg,” added he, “that
some certain rule of conduct towards prisoners may be settled;
and, if you are determined to make captivity as distressing as
possible, let me know it, that we may be upon equal terms, for
your conduct shall regulate mine.”
14Sir William, in reply, proposed to send an officer of rank to
Washington, to confer upon a mode of exchange and subsistence
of prisoners. “This expedient,” observes he, “appearing to me
effectual for settling all differences, will, I hope, be the means of
preventing a repetition of the improper terms in which your letter
is expressed and founded on the grossest misrepresentations.
I shall not make any further comment upon it, than to assure
you, that your threats of retaliating upon the innocent such punishment
as may be decreed in the circumstances of Mr. Lee by
the laws of his country, will not divert me from my duty in any
respect; at the same time, you may rest satisfied that the proceedings
against him will not be precipitated; and I trust that,
in this, or in any other event in the course of my command, you
will not have just cause to accuse me of inhumanity, prejudice,
or passion.”
Sir William, in truth, was greatly perplexed with respect to
Lee, and had written to England to Lord George Germaine for
instructions in the case. “General Lee,” writes he, “being considered
in the light of a deserter, is kept a close prisoner; but
I do not bring him to trial, as a doubt has arisen, whether, by a
public resignation of his half pay prior to his entry into the
rebel army, he was amenable to the military law as a deserter.”
The proposal of Sir William, that all disputed points relative
to the exchange and subsistence of prisoners, should be adjusted
by referees, led to the appointment of two officers for the purpose;
Colonel Walcott by General Howe, and Colonel Harrison,
“the old secretary,” by Washington. In the contemplated
exchanges was that of one of the Hessian field-officers for Colonel
Ethan Allen.
The haughty spirit of Lee had experienced a severe humiliation
15in the late catastrophe; his pungent and caustic humor is at
an end. In a letter addressed shortly afterwards to Washington,
and enclosing one to Congress which Lord and General Howe
had permitted him to send, he writes, “as the contents are of the
last importance to me, and perhaps not less so to the community,
I most earnestly entreat, my dear general, that you will despatch
it immediately, and order the Congress to be as expeditious as
possible.”
The letter contained a request that two or three gentlemen
might be sent immediately to New York, to whom he would communicate
what he conceived to be of the greatest importance.
“If my own interests were alone at stake,” writes he, “I flatter
myself that the Congress would not hesitate a single instant in
acquiescing in my request; but this is far from the case; the
interests of the public are equally concerned. * * Lord and
General Howe will grant a safe conduct to the gentlemen
deputed.”
The letter having been read in Congress, Washington was
directed to inform General Lee that they were pursuing and
would continue to pursue every means in their power to provide
for his personal safety, and to obtain his liberty; but that they
considered it improper to send any of their body to communicate
with him, and could not perceive how it would tend to his advantage
or the interest of the public.
Lee repeated his request, but with no better success. He
felt this refusal deeply; as a brief, sad note to Washington indicates.
“It is a most unfortunate circumstance for myself, and I
think not less so for the public, that Congress have not thought
16proper to comply with my request. It could not possibly have
been attended with any ill consequences, and might with good
ones. At least it was an indulgence which I thought my situation
entitled me to. But I am unfortunate in every thing, and
this stroke is the severest I have yet experienced. God send
you a different fate. Adieu, my dear general.
“Yours most truly and affectionately,
“Charles Lee.”
How different from the humorous, satirical, self-confident tone
of his former letters. Yet Lee’s actual treatment was not so
harsh as had been represented. He was in close confinement, it
is true; but three rooms had been fitted up for his reception in
the Old City Hall of New York, having nothing of the look of
a prison excepting that they were secured by bolts and bars.
Congress, in the mean time, had resorted to their threatened
measure of retaliation. On the 20th of February, they had resolved
that the Board of War be directed immediately to order
the five Hessian field-officers and Lieutenant-colonel Campbell
into safe and close custody, “it being the unalterable resolution
of Congress to retaliate on them the same punishment as may be
inflicted on the person of General Lee.”
The Colonel Campbell here mentioned had commanded one
of General Fraser’s battalions of Highlanders, and had been
captured on board of a transport in Nantasket road, in the preceding
summer. He was a member of Parliament, and a gentleman
of fortune. Retaliation was carried to excess in regard to
him, for he was thrown into the common jail at Concord in Massachusetts.
From his prison he made an appeal to Washington, which at
17once touched his quick sense of justice. He immediately wrote
to the council of Massachusetts Bay, quoting the words of the
resolution of Congress. “By this you will observe,” adds he,
“that exactly the same treatment is to be shown to Colonel
Campbell and the Hessian officers, that General Howe shows to
General Lee, and as he is only confined to a commodious house
with genteel accommodations, we have no right or reason to be
more severe on Colonel Campbell, who I would wish should upon
the receipt of this be removed from his present situation, and be
put into a house where he may live comfortably.”
In a letter to the President of Congress on the following day,
he gives his moderating counsels on the whole subject of retaliation.
“Though I sincerely commiserate,” writes he, “the misfortunes
of General Lee, and feel much for his present unhappy
situation, yet with all possible deference to the opinion of Congress,
I fear that these resolutions will not have the desired effect,
are founded on impolicy, and will, if adhered to, produce consequences
of an extensive and melancholy nature.” * * *
“The balance of prisoners is greatly against us, and a general
regard to the happiness of the whole should mark our conduct.
Can we imagine that our enemies will not mete the same punishments,
the same indignities, the same cruelties, to those belonging
to us, in their possession, that we impose on theirs in our power?
Why should we suppose them to possess more humanity than we
have ourselves? Or why should an ineffectual attempt to relieve
the distresses of one brave, unfortunate man, involve many more
in the same calamities? * * * Suppose,” continues he, “the
treatment prescribed for the Hessians should be pursued, will it
not establish what the enemy have been aiming to effect by every
artifice and the grossest misrepresentations, I mean an opinion of
18our enmity towards them, and of the cruel treatment they experience
when they fall into our hands, a prejudice which we on
our part have heretofore thought it politic to suppress, and to
root out by every act of lenity and of kindness?”
“Many more objections,” added he, “might be subjoined, were
they material. I shall only observe, that the present state of the
army, if it deserves that name, will not authorize the language of
retaliation, or the style of menace. This will be conceded by all
who know that the whole of our force is weak and trifling, and
composed of militia (very few regular troops excepted) whose service
is on the eve of expiring.”
In a letter to Mr. Robert Morris also, he writes: “I wish,
with all my heart, that Congress had gratified General Lee in his
request. If not too late I wish they would do it still. I can see
no possible evil that can result from it; some good, I think,
might. The request to see a gentleman or two came from the
general, not from the commissioners; there could have been no
harm, therefore, in hearing what he had to say on any subject,
especially as he had declared that his own personal interest was
deeply concerned. The resolve to put in close confinement
Lieutenant-colonel Campbell and the Hessian field-officers, in
order to retaliate upon them General Lee’s punishment, is, in
my opinion, injurious in every point of view, and must have
been entered into without due attention to the consequences. * * * * * If the resolve of Congress respecting General
Lee strikes you in the same point of view it has done me, I could
wish you would signify as much to that body as I really think it
fraught with every evil.”
Washington was not always successful in instilling his wise
moderation into public councils. Congress adhered to their vindictive
19policy, merely directing that no other hardships should be
inflicted on the captive officers, than such confinement as was
necessary to carry their resolve into effect. As to their refusal
to grant the request of Lee, Robert Morris surmised they were
fearful of the injurious effect that might be produced in the court
of France, should it be reported that members of Congress visited
General Lee by permission of the British commissioners. There
were other circumstances beside the treatment of General Lee,
to produce this indignant sensibility on the part of Congress.
Accounts were rife at this juncture, of the cruelties and indignities
almost invariably experienced by American prisoners at
New York; and an active correspondence on the subject was
going on between Washington and the British commanders, at the
same time with that regarding General Lee.
The captive Americans who had been in the naval service
were said to be confined, officers and men, in prison-ships, which,
from their loathsome condition, and the horrors and sufferings of
all kinds experienced on board of them, had acquired the appellation
of floating hells. Those who had been in the land service,
were crowded into jails and dungeons like the vilest malefactors;
and were represented as pining in cold, in filth, in hunger and
nakedness.
“Our poor devoted soldiers,” writes an eye-witness, “were
scantily supplied with provisions of bad quality, wretchedly
clothed, and destitute of sufficient fuel, if indeed they had any.
Disease was the inevitable consequence, and their prisons soon
became hospitals. A fatal malady was generated, and the mortality,
to every heart not steeled by the spirit of party, was truly
deplorable.”[8] According to popular account, the prisoners
20confined on shipboard, and on shore, were perishing by hundreds.
A statement made by a Captain Gamble, recently confined
on board of a prison-ship, had especially roused the ire of Congress,
and by their directions had produced a letter from Washington
to Lord Howe. “I am sorry,” writes he, “that I am under the
disagreeable necessity of troubling your lordship with a letter,
almost wholly on the subject of the cruel treatment which our
officers and men in the naval department, who are unhappy
enough to fall into your hands, receive on board the prison-ships
in the harbor of New York.” After specifying the case of Captain
Gamble, and adding a few particulars, he proceeds: “From
the opinion I have ever been taught to entertain of your lordship’s
humanity, I will not suppose that you are privy to proceedings
of so cruel and unjustifiable a nature; and I hope, that, upon
making the proper inquiry, you will have the matter so regulated,
that the unhappy persons whose lot is captivity, may not in future
have the miseries of cold, disease, and famine, added to their
other misfortunes. You may call us rebels, and say that we deserve
no better treatment; but remember, my lord, that, supposing
us rebels, we still have feelings as keen and sensible as loyalists, and
will, if forced to it, most assuredly retaliate upon those upon whom
we look as the unjust invaders of our rights, liberties and properties.
I should not have said thus much, but my injured countrymen
have long called upon me to endeavor to obtain a redress
of their grievances, and I should think myself as culpable as
those who inflict such severities upon them, were I to continue
silent,” &c.
Lord Howe, in reply (Jan. 17), expressed himself surprised
at the matter and language of Washington’s letter, “so different
21from the liberal vein of sentiment he had been habituated to
expect on every occasion of personal intercourse or correspondence
with him.” He was surprised, too, that “the idle and
unnatural report” of Captain Gamble, respecting the dead and
dying, and the neglect of precautions against infection, should
meet with any credit. “Attention to preserve the lives of these
men,” writes he, “whom we esteem the misled subjects of the
king, is a duty as binding on us, where we are able from circumstances
to execute it with effect, as any you can plead for the
interest you profess in their welfare.”
He denied that prisoners were ill treated in his particular
department (the naval). They had been allowed the general liberty
of the prison-ship, until a successful attempt of some to
escape, had rendered it necessary to restrain the rest within such
limits as left the commanding parts of the ship in possession of
the guard. They had the same provisions in quality and quantity
that were furnished to the seamen of his own ship. The
want of cleanliness was the result of their own indolence and
neglect. In regard to health, they had the constant attendance
of an American surgeon, a fellow-prisoner; who was furnished
with medicines from the king’s stores; and the visits of the
physician of the fleet.
“As I abhor every imputation of wanton cruelty in multiplying
the miseries of the wretched,” observes his lordship, “of
treating them with needless severity, I have taken the trouble
to state these several facts.”
In regard to the hint at retaliation, he leaves it to Washington
to act therein as he should think fit; but adds he grandly,
“the innocent at my disposal will not have any severities to
apprehend from me on that account.”
22We have quoted this correspondence the more freely, because
it is on a subject deeply worn into the American mind; and
about which we have heard too many particulars, from childhood
upwards, from persons of unquestionable veracity, who suffered
in the cause, to permit us to doubt about the fact. The Jersey
Prison-ship is proverbial in our revolutionary history; and the
bones of the unfortunate patriots who perished on board, form a
monument on the Long Island shore. The horrors of the Sugar
House converted into a prison, are traditional in New York; and
the brutal tyranny of Cunningham, the provost marshal, over
men of worth confined in the common jail, for the sin of patriotism,
has been handed down from generation to generation.
That Lord Howe and Sir William were ignorant of the
extent of these atrocities we really believe, but it was their duty
to be well informed. War is, at best, a cruel trade, that habituates
those who follow it to regard the sufferings of others with
indifference. There is not a doubt, too, that a feeling of contumely
deprived the patriot prisoners of all sympathy in the
early stages of the Revolution. They were regarded as criminals
rather than captives. The stigma of rebels seemed to take
from them all the indulgences, scanty and miserable as they are,
usually granted to prisoners of war. The British officers looked
down with haughty contempt upon the American officers, who
had fallen into their hands. The British soldiery treated them
with insolent scurrility. It seemed as if the very ties of consanguinity
rendered their hostility more intolerant, for it was
observed that American prisoners were better treated by the
Hessians than by the British. It was not until our countrymen
had made themselves formidable by their successes that they
were treated, when prisoners, with common decency and humanity.
23The difficulties arising out of the case of General Lee interrupted
the operations with regard to the exchange of prisoners;
and gallant men, on both sides, suffered prolonged detention in
consequence; and among the number the brave, but ill-starred
Ethan Allen.
Lee, in the mean time, remained in confinement, until directions
with regard to him should be received from government.
Events, however, had diminished his importance in the eyes of
the enemy; he was no longer considered the American palladium.
“As the capture of the Hessians and the manœuvres against the
British took place after the surprise of General Lee,” observes a
London writer of the day, “we find that he is not the only
efficient officer in the American service.”[9]
CHAPTER III.
24
EXERTIONS TO FORM A NEW ARMY—CALLS ON THE DIFFERENT STATES—INSUFFICIENCY
OF THE MILITIA—WASHINGTON’S CARE FOR THE YEOMANRY—DANGERS
IN THE NORTHERN DEPARTMENT—WINTER ATTACK ON
TICONDEROGA APPREHENDED—EXERTIONS TO REINFORCE SCHUYLER—PRECARIOUS
STATE OF WASHINGTON’S ARMY—CONJECTURES AS TO THE
DESIGNS OF THE ENEMY—EXPEDITION OF THE BRITISH AGAINST PEEKSKILL.
The early part of the year brought the annual embarrassments
caused by short enlistments. The brief terms of service for
which the Continental soldiery had enlisted, a few months perhaps,
at most a year, were expiring; and the men, glad to be
released from camp duty, were hastening to their rustic homes.
Militia had to be the dependence until a new army could be raised
and organized; and Washington called on the council of safety
of Pennsylvania, speedily to furnish temporary reinforcements of
the kind.
All his officers that could be spared were ordered away, some
to recruit, some to collect the scattered men of the different
regiments, who were dispersed, he said, almost over the continent.
General Knox was sent off to Massachusetts to expedite the raising
of a battalion of artillery. Different States were urged to levy and
equip their quotas for the Continental army. “Nothing but the
25united efforts of every State in America,” writes he, “can save us
from disgrace, and probably from ruin.”
Rhode Island is reproached with raising troops for home service
before furnishing its supply to the general army. “If each
State,” writes he, “were to prepare for its own defence independent
of each other, they would all be conquered, one by one. Our
success must depend on a firm union, and a strict adherence to
the general plan.”[10]
He deplores the fluctuating state of the army while depending
on militia; full one day, almost disbanded the next. “I am much
afraid that the enemy, one day or other, taking advantage of one
of these temporary weaknesses, will make themselves masters of
our magazines of stores, arms and artillery.”
The militia, too, on being dismissed, were generally suffered
by their officers to carry home with them the arms with which
they had been furnished, so that the armory was in a manner scattered
over all the world, and for ever lost to the public.
Then an earnest word is spoken by him in behalf of the
yeomanry, whose welfare always lay near his heart. “You must
be fully sensible,” writes he, “of the hardships imposed upon
individuals, and how detrimental it must be to the public to have
farmers and tradesmen frequently called out of the field, as militia
men, whereby a total stop is put to arts and agriculture, without
which we cannot long subsist.”
While thus anxiously exerting himself to strengthen his own
precarious army, the security of the Northern department was
urged upon his attention. Schuyler represented it as in need of
reinforcements and supplies of all kinds. He apprehended that
26Carleton might make an attack upon Ticonderoga, as soon as he
could cross Lake Champlain on the ice; that important fortress
was under the command of a brave officer, Colonel Anthony
Wayne, but its garrison had dwindled down to six or seven hundred
men, chiefly New England militia. In the present destitute
situation of his department as to troops, Schuyler feared that
Carleton might not only succeed in an attempt on Ticonderoga,
but might push his way to Albany.
He had written in vain, he said, to the Convention of New
York, and to the Eastern States, for reinforcements, and he
entreated Washington to aid him with his influence. He wished
to have his army composed of troops from as many different
States as possible; the Southern people having a greater spirit of
discipline and subordination, might, he thought, introduce it
among the Eastern people.
He wished also for the assistance of a general officer or two in
his department. “I am alone,” writes he, “distracted with a
variety of cares, and no one to take part of the burden.”[11]
Although Washington considered a winter attack of the kind
specified by Schuyler too difficult and dangerous to be very
probable, he urged reinforcements from Massachusetts and New
Hampshire, whence they could be furnished most speedily. Massachusetts,
in fact, had already determined to send four regiments
to Schuyler’s aid as soon as possible.
Washington disapproved of a mixture of troops in the present
critical juncture, knowing, he said, “the difficulty of maintaining
harmony among men from different States, and bringing them to
lay aside all attachments and distinctions of a local and provincial
27nature, and consider themselves the same people, engaged in the
same noble struggle, and having one general interest to defend.”[12]
The quota of Massachusetts, under the present arrangement of
the army, was fifteen regiments: and Washington ordered General
Heath, who was in Massachusetts, to forward them to Ticonderoga
as fast as they could be raised.[13]
Notwithstanding all Washington’s exertions in behalf of the
army under his immediate command, it continued to be deplorably
in want of reinforcements, and it was necessary to maintain the
utmost vigilance at all his posts to prevent his camp from being
surprised. The operations of the enemy might be delayed by the
bad condition of the roads, and the want of horses to move their
artillery, but he anticipated an attack as soon as the roads were
passable, and apprehended a disastrous result unless speedily
reinforced.
“The enemy,” writes he, “must be ignorant of our numbers
and situation, or they would never suffer us to remain unmolested,
and I almost tax myself with imprudence in committing the fact
to paper, lest this letter should fall into other hands than those
for which it is intended.” And again: “It is not in my power
to make Congress fully sensible of the real situation of our affairs,
and that it is with difficulty I can keep the life and soul of the
army together. In a word, they are at a distance; they think it
is but to say presto, begone, and every thing is done; they seem
not to have any conception of the difficulty and perplexity of
those who have to execute.”
The designs of the enemy being mere matter of conjecture,
measures varied accordingly. As the season advanced, Washington
28was led to believe that Philadelphia would be their first
object at the opening of the campaign, and that they would bring
round all their troops from Canada by water to aid in the enterprise.
Under this persuasion he wrote to General Heath, ordering
him to send eight of the Massachusetts battalions to Peekskill
instead of Ticonderoga, and he explained his reasons for so
doing in a letter to Schuyler. At Peekskill, he observed, “they
would be well placed to give support to any of the Eastern or
Middle States; or to oppose the enemy, should they design to
penetrate the country up the Hudson; or to cover New England,
should they invade it. Should they move westward, the Eastern
and Southern troops could easily form a junction, and this,
besides, would oblige the enemy to leave a much stronger garrison
at New York. Even should the enemy pursue their first
plan of an invasion from Canada, the troops at Peekskill would
not be badly placed to reinforce Ticonderoga, and cover the country
around Albany.” “I am very sure,” concludes he, “the
operations of this army will in a great degree govern the motions
of that in Canada. If this is held at bay, curbed and confined,
the Northern army will not dare attempt to penetrate.” The
last sentence will be found to contain the policy which governed
Washington’s personal movements throughout the campaign.
On the 18th of March he despatched General Greene to
Philadelphia, to lay before Congress such matters as he could
not venture to communicate by letter. “He is an able and good
officer,” writes he, “who has my entire confidence, and is intimately
acquainted with my ideas.”
Greene had scarce departed when the enemy began to give
signs of life. The delay in the arrival of artillery, more than
his natural indolence, had kept General Howe from formally
29taking the field; he now made preparations for the next campaign
by detaching troops to destroy the American deposits of military
stores. One of the chief of these was at Peekskill, the very
place whither Washington had directed Heath to send troops from
Massachusetts; and which he thought of making a central point
of assemblage. Howe terms it “the port of that rough and mountainous
tract called the Manor of Courtlandt.” Brigadier-general
McDougall had the command of it in the absence of
General Heath, but his force did not exceed two hundred and
fifty men.
As soon as the Hudson was clear of ice, a squadron of
vessels of war and transports, with five hundred troops under
Colonel Bird, ascended the river. McDougall had intelligence
of the intended attack, and while the ships were making their
way across the Tappan Sea and Haverstraw Bay, exerted himself
to remove as much as possible of the provisions and stores to
Forts Montgomery and Constitution in the Highlands. On the
morning of the 23d, the whole squadron came to anchor in Peekskill
Bay; and five hundred men landed in Lent’s Cove, on the
south side of the bay, whence they pushed forward with four light
field-pieces drawn by sailors. On their approach, McDougall set
fire to the barracks and principal storehouses, and retreated about
two miles to a strong post, commanding the entrance to the
Highlands, and the road to Continental Village, the place of the
deposits. It was the post which had been noted by Washington
in the preceding year, where a small force could make a stand,
and hurl down masses of rock on their assailants. Hence McDougall
sent an express to Lieutenant-colonel Marinus Willet,
who had charge of Fort Constitution, to hasten to his assistance.
The British, finding the wharf in flames where they had
30intended to embark their spoils, completed the conflagration,
beside destroying several small craft laden with provisions.
They kept possession of the place until the following day, when
a scouting party, which had advanced towards the entrance of
the Highlands, was encountered by Colonel Marinus Willet with a
detachment from Fort Constitution, and driven back to the main
body after a sharp skirmish, in which nine of the marauders were
killed. Four more were slain on the banks of Canopas Creek as
they were setting fire to some boats. The enemy were disappointed
in the hope of carrying off a great deal of booty, and finding
the country around was getting under arms, they contented
themselves with the mischief they had done, and re-embarked in
the evening by moonlight, when the whole squadron swept down
the Hudson.
CHAPTER IV.
31
SCHUYLER’S AFFAIRS IN THE NORTHERN DEPARTMENT—MISUNDERSTANDINGS
WITH CONGRESS—GIVES OFFENCE BY A REPROACHFUL LETTER—OFFICE OF
ADJUTANT-GENERAL OFFERED TO GATES—DECLINED BY HIM—SCHUYLER
REPRIMANDED BY CONGRESS FOR HIS REPROACHFUL LETTER—GATES APPOINTED
TO THE COMMAND AT TICONDEROGA—SCHUYLER CONSIDERS HIMSELF
VIRTUALLY SUSPENDED—TAKES HIS SEAT AS A DELEGATE TO CONGRESS,
AND CLAIMS A COURT OF INQUIRY—HAS COMMAND AT PHILADELPHIA.
We have now to enter upon a tissue of circumstances connected
with the Northern department, which will be found materially to
influence the course of affairs in that quarter throughout the current
year, and ultimately to be fruitful of annoyance to Washington
himself. To make these more clear to the reader, it is
necessary to revert to events in the preceding year.
The question of command between Schuyler and Gates, when
settled as we have shown by Congress, had caused no interruption
to the harmony of intercourse between these generals.
Schuyler directed the affairs of the department with energy
and activity from his head-quarters at Albany, where they had
been fixed by Congress, while Gates, subordinate to him, commanded
the post of Ticonderoga.
The disappointment of an independent command, however, still
32rankled in the mind of the latter, and was kept alive by the
officious suggestions of meddling friends. In the course of the
autumn, his hopes in this respect revived. Schuyler was again
disgusted with the service. In the discharge of his various and
harassing duties, he had been annoyed by sectional jealousies and
ill will. His motives and measures had been maligned. The
failures in Canada had been attributed to him, and he had repeatedly
entreated Congress to order an inquiry into the many
charges made against him, “that he might not any longer be insulted.”
“I assure you,” writes he to Gates, on the 25th of August,
“that I am so sincerely tired of abuse, that I will let my enemies
arrive at the completion of their wishes by retiring, as soon as I
shall have been tried; and attempt to serve my injured country
in some other way, where envy and detraction will have no temptation
to follow me.”
On the 14th of September, he actually offered his resignation
of his commission as major-general, and of every other office and
appointment; still claiming a court of inquiry on his conduct,
and expressing his determination to fulfil the duties of a good
citizen, and promote the weal of his native country, but in some
other capacity. “I trust,” writes he, “that my successor, whoever
he may be, will find that matters are as prosperously arranged
in this department as the nature of the service will admit.
I shall most readily give him any information and assistance in
my power.”
He immediately wrote to General Gates, apprising him of
his having sent in his resignation. “It is much to be lamented,”
writes he, “that calumny is so much cherished in this unhappy
country, and that so few of the servants of the public escape the
33malevolence of a set of insidious miscreants. It has driven me
to the necessity of resigning.”
As the command of the department, should his resignation be
accepted, would of course devolve on Gates, he assures him he
will render every assistance in his power to any officer whom
Gates might appoint to command in Albany.
All his letters to Gates, while they were thus in relation in the
department, had been kind and courteous; beginning with, “My
dear General,” and ending with, “adieu” and “every friendly
wish.” Schuyler was a warm-hearted man, and his expressions
were probably sincere.
The hopes of Gates, inspired by this proffered resignation,
were doomed to be again overclouded. Schuyler was informed
by President Hancock, “that Congress, during the present state of
affairs, could not consent to accept of his resignation; but requested
that he would continue in the command he held, and be
assured that the aspersions thrown out by his enemies against
his character, had no influence upon the minds of the members
of that House; and that more effectually to put calumny to
silence, they would at an early day appoint a committee to inquire
fully into his conduct, which they trusted would establish his
reputation in the opinion of all good men.”
Schuyler received the resolve of Congress with grim acquiescence,
but showed in his reply that he was but half soothed.
“At this very critical juncture,” writes he, October 16, “I shall
waive those remarks which, in justice to myself, I must make at a
future day. The calumny of my enemies has arisen to its height.
Their malice is incapable of heightening the injury. * * * *
In the alarming situation of our affairs, I shall continue to act
some time longer, but Congress must prepare to put the care of
34this department into other hands. I shall be able to render my
country better services in another line: less exposed to a repetition
of the injuries I have sustained.”
He had remained at his post, therefore, discharging the various
duties of his department with his usual zeal and activity; and
Gates, at the end of the campaign, had repaired, as we have
shown, to the vicinity of Congress, to attend the fluctuation of
events.
Circumstances in the course of the winter had put the worthy
Schuyler again on points of punctilio with Congress. Among
some letters intercepted by the enemy and retaken by the Americans,
was one from Colonel Joseph Trumbull, the commissary-general,
insinuating that General Schuyler had secreted or suppressed
a commission sent for his brother, Colonel John Trumbull,
as deputy adjutant-general.[14] The purport of the letter was
reported to Schuyler. He spurned at the insinuation. “If it be
true that he has asserted such a thing,” writes he to the president,
“I shall expect from Congress that justice which is due to me.”
Three weeks later he enclosed to the president a copy of
Trumbull’s letter. “I hope,” writes he, “Congress will not
entertain the least idea that I can tamely submit to such injurious
treatment. I expect they will immediately do what is incumbent
on them on the occasion. Until Mr. Trumbull and I are upon a
footing, I cannot do what the laws of honor and a regard to my
own reputation render indispensably necessary. Congress can
put us on a par by dismissing one or the other from the service.”
Congress failed to comply with the general’s request. They
35added also to his chagrin by dismissing from the service an army
physician, in whose appointment he had particularly interested
himself.
Schuyler was a proud-spirited man, and, at times, somewhat
irascible. In a letter to Congress on the 8th of February, he
observed: “As Dr. Stringer had my recommendation to the
office he has sustained, perhaps it was a compliment due to me
that I should have been advised of the reason of his dismission.”
And again: “I was in hopes some notice would have been
taken of the odious suspicion contained in Mr. Commissary
Trumbull’s intercepted letter. I really feel myself deeply chagrined
on the occasion. I am incapable of the meanness he suspects
me of, and I confidently expected that Congress would
have done me that justice which it was in their power to give,
and which I humbly conceive they ought to have done.”
This letter gave great umbrage to Congress, but no immediate
answer was made to it.
About this time the office of adjutant-general, which had
remained vacant ever since the resignation of Colonel Reed, to
the great detriment of the service, especially now when a new army
was to be formed, was offered to General Gates, who had formerly
filled it with ability; and President Hancock informed him, by
letter, of the earnest desire of Congress that he should resume
it, retaining his present rank and pay.
Gates almost resented the proposal. “Unless the commander-in-chief
earnestly makes the same request with your Excellency,”
replies he, “all my endeavors as adjutant-general would be vain
and fruitless. I had, last year, the honor to command in the second
post in America; and had the good fortune to prevent the enemy
from making their so much wished-for junction with General
36Howe. After this, to be expected to dwindle again to the adjutant-general,
requires more philosophy on my part, and something
more than words on yours.”[15]
He wrote to Washington to the same effect, but declared
that, should it be his Excellency’s wish, he would resume the
office with alacrity.
Washington promptly replied that he had often wished it in
secret, though he had never even hinted at it; supposing Gates
might have scruples on the subject. “You cannot conceive the
pleasure I feel,” adds he, “when you tell me that, if it is my
desire that you should resume your former office, you will with
cheerfulness and alacrity proceed to Morristown.” He thanks
him for this mark of attention to his wishes; assures him that he
looks upon his resumption of the office as the only means of giving
form and regularity to the new army; and will be glad to
receive a line from him mentioning the time he would leave Philadelphia.
He received no such line. Gates had a higher object in view.
A letter from Schuyler to Congress, had informed that body that
he should set out for Philadelphia about the 21st of March, and
should immediately on his arrival require the promised inquiry
into his conduct. Gates, of course, was acquainted with this circumstance.
He knew Schuyler had given offence to Congress;
he knew that he had been offended on his own part, and had
repeatedly talked of resigning. He had active friends in Congress
ready to push his interests. On the 12th of March his
letter to President Hancock about the proffered adjutancy was
read, and ordered to be taken into consideration on the following
day.
37On the 13th, a committee of five was appointed to confer
with him upon the general state of affairs.
On the 15th, the letter of General Schuyler of the 3d of
February, which had given such offence, was brought before the
House, and it was resolved that his suggestion concerning the
dismission of Dr. Stringer was highly derogatory to the honor of
Congress, and that it was expected his letters in future would be
written in a style suitable to the dignity of the representative
body of these free and independent States, and to his own character
as their officer. His expressions, too, respecting the intercepted
letter, that he had expected Congress would have done
him all the justice in their power, were pronounced, “to say the
least, ill-advised and highly indecent.”[16]
While Schuyler was thus in partial eclipse, the House proceeded
to appoint a general officer for the Northern department,
of which he had stated it to be in need.
On the 25th of March, Gates received the following note
from President Hancock: “I have it in charge to direct that
you repair to Ticonderoga immediately, and take command of
the army stationed in that department.”
Gates obeyed with alacrity. Again the vision of an independent
command floated before his mind, and he was on his way
to Albany, at the time that Schuyler, ignorant of this new
arrangement, was journeying to Philadelphia. Gates was accompanied
by Brigadier-general Fermois, a French officer, recently
commissioned in the Continental army. A rumor of his approach
preceded him. “What are the terms on which Gates is coming
on?” was asked in Albany. “Has Schuyler been superseded,
38or is he to be so, or has he resigned?” For a time all was
rumor and conjecture. A report reached his family that he
was to be divested of all titles and rank other than that of
Philip Schuyler, Esquire. They heard it with joy, knowing the
carking cares and annoyances that had beset him in his command.
His military friends deprecated it as a great loss to the
service.[17]
When Gates arrived in Albany, Colonel Varick, Schuyler’s
secretary, waited on him with a message from Mrs. Schuyler,
inviting him to take up his quarters at the general’s house, which
was in the vicinity. He declined, as the despatch of affairs
required him to be continually in town; but took his breakfast
with Mrs. Schuyler the next morning. He remained in Albany,
unwilling to depart for Ticonderoga until there should be sufficient
troops there to support him.
Schuyler arrived in Philadelphia in the second week in April,
and found himself superseded in effect by General Gates in the
Northern department. He enclosed to the committee of Albany
the recent resolutions of Congress, passed before his arrival.
“By these,” writes he, “you will readily perceive that I shall
not return a general. Under what influence it has been brought
about, I am not at liberty now to mention. On my return to
Albany, I shall give the committee the fullest information.”[18]
Taking his seat in Congress as a delegate from New York,
he demanded the promised investigation of his conduct during
the time he had held a command in the army. It was his intention,
when the scrutiny had taken place, to resign his commission,
39and retire from the service. On the 18th, a committee of
inquiry was appointed, as at his request, composed of a member
from each State.
In the mean time, as second major-general of the United
States (Lee being the first), he held active command at Philadelphia,
forming a camp on the western side of the Delaware, completing
the works on Fort Island, throwing up works on Red
Bank, and accelerating the despatch of troops and provisions to
the commander-in-chief. During his sojourn at Philadelphia,
also, he contributed essentially to reorganize the commissary department;
digesting rules for its regulation, which were mainly
adopted by Congress.
CHAPTER V.
40
FOREIGN OFFICERS CANDIDATES FOR SITUATIONS IN THE ARMY—DIFFICULTIES
IN ADJUSTING QUESTIONS OF RANK—DUCOUDRAY—CONWAY—KOSCIUSZKO—WASHINGTON’S
GUARDS—ARNOLD OMITTED IN THE ARMY PROMOTIONS—WASHINGTON
TAKES HIS PART—BRITISH EXPEDITION AGAINST DANBURY—DESTRUCTION
OF AMERICAN STORES—CONNECTICUT YEOMANRY IN ARMS—SKIRMISH
AT RIDGEFIELD—DEATH OF GENERAL WOOSTER—GALLANT SERVICES
OF ARNOLD—REWARDED BY CONGRESS—EXPLOIT OF COLONEL MEIGS
AT SAG HARBOR.
The fame of the American struggle for independence was bringing
foreign officers as candidates for admission into the patriot
army, and causing great embarrassment to the commander-in-chief.
“They seldom,” writes Washington, “bring more than a
commission and a passport; which we know may belong to a bad
as well as a good officer. Their ignorance of our language, and
their inability to recruit men, are insurmountable obstacles to
their being engrafted in our Continental battalions; for our
officers, who have raised their men, and have served through the
war upon pay that has not hitherto borne their expenses, would
be disgusted if foreigners were put over their head; and I assure
you, few or none of these gentlemen look lower than field-officers’
commissions. * * * Some general mode of disposing of
them must be adopted, for it is ungenerous to keep them in suspense,
41and a great charge to themselves; but I am at a loss to
know how to point out this mode.”
Congress determined that no foreign officers should receive
commissions who were not well acquainted with the English language,
and did not bring strong testimonials of their abilities.
Still there was embarrassment. Some came with brevet commissions
from the French government, and had been assured by Mr.
Deane, American commissioner at Paris, that they would have
the same rank in the American army. This would put them
above American officers of merit and hard service, whose commissions
were of more recent date. One Monsieur Ducoudray,
on the strength of an agreement with Mr. Deane, expected to
have the rank of major-general, and to be put at the head of the
artillery. Washington deprecated the idea of intrusting a department
on which the very salvation of the army might depend,
to a foreigner, who had no other tie to bind him to the interests
of the country than honor; besides, he observed, it would endanger
the loss to the service of General Knox, “a man of great
military reading, sound judgment, and clear perceptions. He
has conducted the affairs of that department with honor to himself
and advantage to the public, and will resign if any one is
put over him.”
In fact, the report that Ducoudray was to be a major-general,
with a commission dated in the preceding year, caused a commotion
among the American officers of that rank, but whose commissions
were of later date. Congress eventually determined not
to ratify the contract entered into between Mr. Deane and Monsieur
Ducoudray, and resolved that the commissions of foreign
officers received into the service, should bear date on the day of
their being filled up by Washington.
42Among the foreign candidates for appointments was one Colonel
Conway, a native of Ireland, but who, according to his own
account, had been thirty years in the service of France, and
claimed to be a chevalier of the order of St. Louis, of which he
wore the decoration. Mr. Deane had recommended him to
Washington as an officer of merit, and had written to Congress
that he considered him well qualified for the office of adjutant or
brigadier-general, and that he had given him reason to hope for
one or the other of these appointments. Colonel Conway
pushed for that of brigadier-general. It had been conferred
some time before by Congress on two French officers, De Fermois
and Deborre, who, he had observed, had been inferior to
him in the French service, and it would be mortifying now to
hold rank below them.
“I cannot pretend,” writes Washington to the president, “to
speak of Colonel Conway’s merits or abilities of my own knowledge.
He appears to be a man of candor, and, if he has been
in service as long as he says, I should suppose him infinitely
better qualified to serve us than many who have been promoted;
as he speaks our language.”
Conway accordingly received the rank of brigadier-general,
of which he subsequently proved himself unworthy. He was
boastful and presumptuous, and became noted for his intrigues,
and for a despicable cabal against the commander-in-chief, which
went by his name, and of which we shall have to speak hereafter.
A candidate of a different stamp had presented himself in the
preceding year, the gallant, generous-spirited, Thaddeus Kosciuszko.
He was a Pole, of an ancient and noble family of Lithuania,
and had been educated for the profession of arms at the
43military school at Warsaw, and subsequently in France. Disappointed
in a love affair with a beautiful lady of rank with whom
he had attempted to elope, he had emigrated to this country, and
came provided with a letter of introduction from Dr. Franklin to
Washington.
“What do you seek here?” inquired the commander-in-chief.
“To fight for American independence.”
“What can you do?”
“Try me.”
Washington was pleased with the curt, yet comprehensive
reply, and with his chivalrous air and spirit, and at once received
him into his family as an aide-de-camp.[19] Congress shortly afterwards
appointed him an engineer, with the rank of colonel. He
proved a valuable officer throughout the Revolution, and won an
honorable and lasting name in our country.
Among the regiments which had been formed in the spring,
one had been named by its officers “The Congress’s Own,” and
another “General Washington’s Life Guards.” A resolve of
Congress promptly appeared, pronouncing those appellations improper,
and ordering that they should be discontinued. Washington’s
own modesty had already administered a corrective. In
a letter to the President of Congress, he declared that the regiments
had been so named without his consent or privity. “As
soon as I heard of it,” writes he, “I wrote to several of the
officers in terms of severe reprehension, and expressly charged
them to suppress the distinction, adding that all the battalions
were on the same footing, and all under the general name of Continental.”
No man was less desirous for all individual distinctions of the kind.
44Somewhat later he really formed a company for his guard.
Colonel Alexander Spotswood had the selection of the men, four
from each regiment; and was charged to be extremely cautious,
“because,” writes Washington, “it is more than probable that, in
the course of the campaign, my baggage, papers, and other matters
of great public import, may be committed to the sole care of these
men.” That the company might look well, and be nearly of a size,
none were to be over five feet ten, nor under five feet nine inches
in stature, and to be sober, young, active, and well-made, of good
character, and proud of appearing clean and soldierlike. As
there would be a greater chance for fidelity among such as had
family connections in the country, Spotswood was charged to
send none but natives, and, if possible, men of some property.
“I must insist,” concludes Washington, “that, in making this
choice, you give no intimation of my preference of natives, as I
do not want to create any invidious distinction between them and
the officers.”[20]
Questions of rank among his generals, were, as we have
repeatedly shown, perpetual sources of perplexity to Washington,
and too often caused by what the sarcastic Lee termed “the
stumblings of Congress;” such was the case at present. In
recent army promotions, Congress had advanced Stirling, Mifflin,
St. Clair, Stephen, and Lincoln, to the rank of major-general,
while Arnold, their senior in service, and distinguished by so
many brilliant exploits, was passed over and left to remain a
brigadier.
Washington was surprised at not seeing his name on the list,
but supposing it might have been omitted through mistake, he
45wrote to Arnold, who was at Providence in Rhode Island,
advising him not to take any hasty step in consequence, but to
allow time for recollection, promising his own endeavors to
remedy any error that might have been made. He wrote also to
Henry Lee in Congress, inquiring whether the omission was
owing to accident or design. “Surely,” said he, “a more active,
a more spirited, and sensible officer, fills no department of your
army. Not seeing him, then, in the list of major-generals, and
no mention made of him, has given me uneasiness; as it is not
presumed, being the oldest brigadier, that he will continue in
service under such a slight.”
Arnold was, in truth, deeply wounded by the omission. “I
am greatly obliged to your Excellency,” writes he to Washington,
“for interesting yourself so much in respect to my appointment,
which I have had no advice of, and know not by what
means it was announced in the papers. Congress undoubtedly
have a right of promoting those whom, from their abilities, and
their long and arduous services, they esteem most deserving.
Their promoting junior officers to the rank of major-generals, I
view as a very civil way of requesting my resignation, as unqualified
for the office I hold. My commission was conferred unsolicited,
and received with pleasure only as a means of serving
my country. With equal pleasure I resign it, when I can no
longer serve my country with honor. The person who, void of
the nice feelings of honor, will tamely condescend to give up his
right, and retain a commission at the expense of his reputation, I
hold as a disgrace to the army, and unworthy of the glorious
cause in which we are engaged. * * * * In justice, therefore,
to my own character, and for the satisfaction of my friends,
I must request a court of inquiry into my conduct; and though I
46sensibly feel the ingratitude of my countrymen, yet every personal
injury shall be buried in my zeal for the safety and happiness
of my country, in whose cause I have repeatedly fought
and bled, and am ready at all times to risk my life.”
He subsequently intimated that he should avoid any hasty
step, and should remain at his post until he could leave it without
any damage to the public interest.
The principle upon which Congress had proceeded in their
recent promotions was explained to Washington. The number
of general officers promoted from each State was proportioned to
the number of men furnished by it. Connecticut (Arnold’s
State) had already two major-generals, which was its full share.
“I confess,” writes Washington to Arnold, “this is a strange
mode of reasoning; but it may serve to show you that the promotion,
which was due to your seniority, was not overlooked for
want of merit in you.”
“The point,” observes he, “is of so delicate a nature, that I
will not even undertake to advise. Your own feelings must be
your guide. As no particular charge is alleged against you, I do
not see upon what grounds you can demand a court of inquiry.
Your determination not to quit your present command, while any
danger to the public might ensue from your leaving it, deserves
my thanks, and justly entitles you to the thanks of the country.”
An opportunity occurred before long, for Arnold again to
signalize himself.
The amount of stores destroyed at Peekskill had fallen far
short of General Howe’s expectations. Something more must be
done to cripple the Americans before the opening of the campaign.
Accordingly, another expedition was set on foot against a
47still larger deposit at Danbury, within the borders of Connecticut,
and between twenty and thirty miles from Peekskill.
Ex-governor Tryon, recently commissioned major-general
of provincials, conducted it, accompanied by Brigadier-general
Agnew and Sir William Erskine. He had a mongrel force two
thousand strong; American, Irish, and British refugees from
various parts of the continent, and made his appearance on the
Sound in the latter part of April, with a fleet of twenty-six sail,
greatly to the disquiet of every assailable place along the coast.
On the 25th, towards evening, he landed his troops on the beach
at the foot of Canepo Hill, near the mouth of the Saugatuck
River. The yeomanry of the neighbourhood had assembled to
resist them, but a few cannon shots made them give way, and the
troops set off for Danbury, about twenty-three miles distant;
galled at first by a scattering fire from behind a stone fence.
They were in a patriotic neighborhood. General Silliman, of
the Connecticut militia, who resided at Fairfield, a few miles
distant, sent out expresses to rouse the country. It so happened
that General Arnold was at New Haven, between twenty and
thirty miles off, on his way to Philadelphia for the purpose of
settling his accounts. At the alarm of a British inroad, he
forgot his injuries and irritation, mounted his horse, and, accompanied
by General Wooster, hastened to join General Silliman.
As they spurred forward, every farm house sent out its warrior,
until upwards of a hundred were pressing on with them, full of
the fighting spirit. Lieutenant Oswald, Arnold’s secretary in the
Canada campaign, who had led the forlorn hope in the attempt
upon Quebec, was at this time at New Haven, enlisting men for
Lamb’s regiment of artillery. He, too, heard the note of alarm,
48and mustering his recruits, marched off with three field-pieces for
the scene of action.[21]
In the mean while the British, marching all night with short
haltings, reached Danbury about two o’clock in the afternoon of
the 26th. There were but fifty Continental soldiers and one hundred
militia in the place. These retreated, as did most of the
inhabitants, excepting such as remained to take care of the sick
and aged. Four men, intoxicated, as it was said, fired upon the
troops from the windows of a large house. The soldiers rushed
in, drove them into the cellar, set fire to the house, and left them
to perish in the flames.
There was a great quantity of stores of all kinds in the village,
and no vehicles to convey them to the ships. The work of
destruction commenced. The soldiers made free with the liquors
found in abundance; and throughout the greater part of the night
there was revel, drunkenness, blasphemy, and devastation. Tryon,
full of anxiety, and aware that the country was rising, ordered a
retreat before daylight, setting fire to the magazines to complete
the destruction of the stores. The flames spread to the other
edifices, and almost the whole village was soon in a blaze. The
extreme darkness of a rainy night made the conflagration more
balefully apparent throughout the country.
While these scenes had been transacted at Danbury, the
Connecticut yeomanry had been gathering. Fairfield and the
adjacent counties had poured out their minute men. General
Silliman had advanced at the head of five hundred. Generals
Wooster and Arnold joined him with their chance followers, as
did a few more militia. A heavy rain retarded their march; it
49was near midnight when they reached Bethel, within four miles
of Danbury. Here they halted, to take a little repose and put
their arms in order, rendered almost unserviceable by the rain.
They were now about six hundred strong. Wooster took the
command, as first major-general of the militia of the State.
Though in the sixty-eighth year of his age, he was full of ardor,
with almost youthful fire and daring. A plan was concerted to
punish the enemy on their retreat; and the lurid light of Danbury
in flames redoubled the provocation. At dawn of day, Wooster
detached Arnold with four hundred men, to push across the
country and take post at Ridgefield, by which the British must
pass; while he with two hundred remained, to hang on and harass
them in flank and rear.
The British began their retreat early in the morning, conducting
it in regular style, with flanking parties, and a rear-guard
well furnished with artillery. As soon as they had passed
his position, Wooster attacked the rear-guard with great spirit
and effect; there was sharp skirmishing until within two miles of
Ridgefield, when, as the veteran was cheering on his men, who
began to waver, a musket ball brought him down from his horse,
and finished his gallant career. On his fall his men retreated in
disorder.
The delay which his attack had occasioned to the enemy, had
given Arnold time to throw up a kind of breastwork or barricade
across the road at the north end of Ridgefield, protected by a
house on the right, and a high rocky bank on the left, where he
took his stand with his little force now increased to about five
hundred men. About eleven o’clock the enemy advanced in
column, with artillery and flanking parties. They were kept at
bay for a time, and received several volleys from the barricade,
50until it was outflanked and carried. Arnold ordered a retreat,
and was bringing off the rear-guard, when his horse was shot
under him, and came down upon his knees. Arnold remained
seated in the saddle, with one foot entangled in the stirrups. A
tory soldier, seeing his plight, rushed towards him with fixed
bayonet. He had just time to draw a pistol from the holster.
“You’re my prisoner,” cried the tory. “Not yet!” exclaimed
Arnold, and shot him dead. Then extricating his foot from the
stirrup, he threw himself into the thickets of a neighboring swamp,
and escaped, unharmed by the bullets that whistled after him, and
joined his retreating troops.
General Tryon intrenched for the night in Ridgefield, his
troops having suffered greatly in their harassed retreat. The
next morning, after having set fire to four houses, he continued
his march for the ships.
Colonel Huntingdon, of the Continental army, with the troops
which had been stationed at Danbury, the scattered forces of
Wooster which had joined him, and a number of militia, hung on
the rear of the enemy as soon as they were in motion. Arnold
was again in the field, with his rallied forces, strengthened by
Lieutenant-colonel Oswald with two companies of Lamb’s artillery
regiment and three field-pieces. With these he again posted
himself on the enemy’s route.
Difficulties and annoyances had multiplied upon the latter at
every step. When they came in sight of the position where
Arnold was waiting for them, they changed their route, wheeled
to the left, and made for a ford of Saugatuck River. Arnold
hastened to cross the bridge and take them in flank, but they were
too quick for him. Colonel Lamb had now reached the scene of
action, as had about two hundred volunteers. Leaving to Oswald
51the charge of the artillery, he put himself at the head of the
volunteers, and led them up to Arnold’s assistance.
The enemy, finding themselves hard pressed, pushed for
Canepo Hill. They reached it in the evening, without a round
of ammunition in their cartridge-boxes. As they were now
within cannon shot of their ships, the Americans ceased the
pursuit. The British formed upon the high ground, brought
their artillery to the front, and sent off to the ships for reinforcements.
Sir William Erskine landed a large body of marines
and sailors, who drove the Americans back for some distance, and
covered the embarkation of the troops. Colonel Lamb, while
leading on his men gallantly to capture the British field-pieces,
was wounded by a grape shot, and Arnold, while cheering on the
militia, had another horse shot under him. In the mean time,
the harassed marauders effected their embarkation, and the fleet
got under way.
In this inroad the enemy destroyed a considerable amount of
military stores, and seventeen hundred tents prepared for the use
of Washington’s army in the ensuing campaign. The loss of
General Wooster was deeply deplored. He survived the action
long enough to be consoled in his dying moments at Danbury, by
the presence of his wife and son, who hastened thither from New
Haven. As to Arnold, his gallantry in this affair gained him
fresh laurels, and Congress, to remedy their late error, promoted
him to the rank of major-general. Still this promotion did not
restore him to his proper position. He was at the bottom of the
list of major-generals, with four officers above him, his juniors in
service. Washington felt this injustice on the part of Congress,
and wrote about it to the president. “He has certainly discovered,”
said he, “in every instance where he has had an opportunity,
52much bravery, activity and enterprise. But what will be
done about his rank? He will not act, most probably, under
those he commanded but a few weeks ago.”
As an additional balm to Arnold’s wounded pride, Congress
a few days afterwards voted that a horse, properly caparisoned,
should be presented to him in their name, as a token of their approbation
of his gallant conduct in the late action, “in which he
had one horse shot under him and another wounded.” But after
all he remained at the bottom of the list, and the wound still
rankled in his bosom.
The destructive expeditions against the American depôts of
military stores, were retaliated in kind by Colonel Meigs, a spirited
officer, who had accompanied Arnold in his expedition
through the wilderness against Quebec, and had caught something
of his love for hardy exploit. Having received intelligence
that the British commissaries had collected a great amount of
grain, forage, and other supplies at Sag Harbor, a small port
in the deep bay which forks the east end of Long Island, he
crossed the Sound on the 23d of May from Guilford in Connecticut,
with about one hundred and seventy men in whale-boats convoyed
by two armed sloops: landed on the island near Southold;
carried the boats a distance of fifteen miles across the north fork
of the bay, launched them into the latter, crossed it, landed
within four miles of Sag Harbor, and before daybreak carried the
place, which was guarded by a company of foot. A furious fire
of round and grape shot was opened upon the Americans from
an armed schooner, anchored about one hundred and fifty yards
from shore; and stout defence was made by the crews of a dozen
brigs and sloops lying at the wharf to take in freight; but Meigs
succeeded in burning these vessels, destroying every thing on
53shore, and carrying off ninety prisoners; among whom were the
officer of the company of foot, the commissaries, and the captains
of most of the small vessels. With these he and his party recrossed
the bay, transported their boats again across the fork of
land, launched them on the Sound, and got safe back to Guilford,
having achieved all this, and traversed about ninety miles of
land and water, in twenty-five hours. Washington was so highly
pleased with the spirit and success of this enterprise, that he
publicly returned thanks to Colonel Meigs and the officers and
men engaged in it. It could not fail, he said, greatly to distress
the enemy in the important and essential article of forage. But
it was the moral effect of the enterprise which gave it the most
value. It is difficult, at the present day, sufficiently to appreciate
the importance of partisan exploits of the kind, in the critical
stage of the war of which we are treating. They cheered the
spirit of the people, depressed by overshadowing dangers and
severe privations, and kept alive the military spark that was to
kindle into the future flame.
CHAPTER VI.
54
SCHUYLER ON THE POINT OF RESIGNING—COMMITTEE OF INQUIRY REPORT IN
HIS FAVOR—HIS MEMORIAL TO CONGRESS PROVES SATISFACTORY—DISCUSSIONS
REGARDING THE NORTHERN DEPARTMENT—GATES MISTAKEN AS TO
HIS POSITION—HE PROMPTS HIS FRIENDS IN CONGRESS—HIS PETULANT
LETTER TO WASHINGTON—DIGNIFIED REPLY OF THE LATTER—POSITION
OF GATES DEFINED—SCHUYLER REINSTATED IN COMMAND OF THE DEPARTMENT—GATES
APPEARS ON THE FLOOR OF CONGRESS—HIS PROCEEDINGS
THERE.
The time was at hand for the committee of inquiry on General
Schuyler’s conduct to make their report to Congress, and he
awaited it with impatience. “I propose in a day or two to resign
my commission,” writes he to Washington on the 3d of
May. “As soon as I have done it, I shall transmit to your Excellency
my reasons for such a step.”
Washington was grieved at receiving this intimation. He
had ever found Schuyler a faithful coadjutor. He knew his peculiar
fitness for the Northern department from his knowledge
of the country and its people; his influence among its most important
citizens; his experience in treating with the Indians;
his fiery energy; his fertility in expedients, and his “sound military
sense.” But he knew also his sensitive nature, and the
peculiar annoyances with which he had had to contend. On a
55former occasion he had prevented him from resigning, by an appeal
to his patriotism; he no longer felt justified in interfering.
“I am sorry,” writes he, “that circumstances are such as to
dispose you to a resignation; but you are the best judge of the
line of conduct most reconcilable to your duty, both in a public
and personal view; and your own feelings must determine you
in a matter of so delicate and interesting a nature.”[22]
Affairs, however, were taking a more favorable turn. The
committee of inquiry made a report which placed the character
of Schuyler higher than ever as an able and active commander,
and a zealous and disinterested patriot.
He made a memorial to Congress explaining away, or apologizing
for, the expressions in his letter of the 4th of February,
which had given offence to the House. His memorial was satisfactory;
and he was officially informed that Congress now “entertained
the same favorable sentiments concerning him, that
they had entertained before that letter was received.”
There were warm discussions in the House on the subject of
the Northern department. Several of the most important of the
New York delegates observed that General Gates misapprehended
his position. He considered himself as holding the same command
as that formerly held by General Schuyler. Such was not
the intention of Congress in sending him to take command of
the army at Ticonderoga. There had been a question between
sending him to that post, or giving him the adjutancy general,
and it had been decided for the former.
It would be nonsense, they observed, to give him command
of the Northern department, and confine him to Ticonderoga and
56Mount Independence, where he could not have an extensive idea
of the defence of the frontier of the Eastern States; but only
of one spot, to which the enemy were not obliged to confine their
operations, and, as it were, to knock their heads against a single
rock. The affairs of the north-east, it was added, and of the
State of New York in particular, were in a critical condition.
Much disaffection prevailed, and great clashing of interests.
There was but one man capable of keeping all united against the
common enemy, and he stood on the books as commander-in-chief
of the Middle, or, as it was sometimes called, the Northern department.
His presence was absolutely necessary in his home
quarters for their immediate succor, but if he returned, he would
be a general without an army or a military chest; and why was
he thus disgraced?
The friends of Gates, on the other hand, who were chiefly
delegates from New England, pronounced it an absurdity, that
an officer holding such an important post as Ticonderoga, should
be under the absolute orders of another one hundred miles distant,
engaged in treaties with Indians, and busied in the duties
of a provedore. The establishment of commands in departments
was entirely wrong; there should be a commander-in-chief, and
commanders of the different armies.
We gather these scanty particulars from a letter addressed to
Gates by Mr. Lovell. The latter expresses himself with a proper
spirit. “I wish,” writes he, “some course could be taken which
would suit you both. It is plain all the Northern army cannot
be intended for the single garrison of Ticonderoga. Who then
has the distribution of the members? This must depend on one
opinion, or there can be no decision in the defence of the Northern
57frontiers. It is an unhappy circumstance that such is the
altercation at the opening of the campaign.”
This letter produced an anxious reply: “Why,” writes Gates,
“when the argument in support of General Schuyler’s command
was imposed upon Congress, did not you or somebody say, ’the
second post upon this continent next campaign will be at or near
Peekskill. There General Schuyler ought to go and command,
that will be the curb in the mouth of the New York tories, and
the enemy’s army. He will then be near the convention, and in
the centre of the colony, have a military chest, and all the insignia
of office. This command in honor could not be refused,
without owning there is something more alluring than command
to General Schuyler, by fixing him at Albany. By urging this
matter home you would have proved the man. He would have
resigned all command, have accepted the government of New
York, and been fixed to a station where he must do good, and
which could not interfere with, or prevent any arrangement
Congress have made, or may hereafter make. Unhappy State!
That has but one man in it who can fix the wavering minds of
its inhabitants to the side of freedom! How could you sit
patiently, and, uncontradicted, suffer such impertinence to be
crammed down your throats?”
“Why is it nonsense,” pursues Gates, “to station the commanding
general in the Northern department at Ticonderoga?
Was it not the uniform practice of the royal army all last war?
Nothing is more certain than that the enemy must first possess
that single rock before they can penetrate the country. * * *
It is foolish in the extreme, to believe the enemy this year can
form any attack from the northward but by Ticonderoga. Where,
then, ought the commanding general to be posted? Certainly
58at Ticonderoga. If General Schuyler is solely to possess all the
power, all the intelligence, and that particular favorite, the military
chest, and constantly reside at Albany, I cannot, with any
peace of mind, serve at Ticonderoga.”[23]
This letter was despatched by private hand to Philadelphia.
While Gates was in this mood, his aide-de-camp, Major Troup,
reported an unsuccessful application to the commander-in-chief
for tents. In the petulance of the moment, Gates addressed the
following letter to Washington. “Major Troup, upon being disappointed
in procuring tents at Fishkill, acquaints me that he
went to head-quarters to implore your Excellency’s aid in that
particular for the Northern army. He says your Excellency told
him you should want every tent upon the continent for the
armies to the southward, and that you did not see any occasion
the Northern army could have for tents, for, being a fixed post,
they might hut. Refusing this army what you have not in your
power to bestow, is one thing,” adds Gates, “but saying that this
army has not the same necessities as the Southern armies, is
another. I can assure your Excellency the service of the northward
requires tents as much as any service I ever saw.”[24]
However indignant Washington may have felt at the disrespectful
tone of this letter, and the unwarrantable imputation of
sectional partiality contained in it, he contented himself with a
grave and measured rebuke. “Can you suppose,” writes he, “if
there had been an ample supply of tents for the whole army, that
I should have hesitated one moment in complying with your
demand? I told Major Troup that on account of our loss at Danbury
there would be a scarcity of tents; that our army would be
59a moving one, and that consequently nothing but tents would
serve our turn; and that, therefore, as there would be the greatest
probability of your being stationary, you should endeavor to
cover your troops with barracks and huts. Certainly this was
not a refusal of tents, but a request that you should, in our contracted
situation, make every shift to do without them, or at least
with as few as possible.
“The Northern army is, and ever has been, as much the
object of my care and attention as the one immediately under my
command. * * * * I will make particular inquiry of the
quartermaster-general, concerning his prospect and expectations
as to the article of tents; and if, as I said before, there appears
a sufficiency for the whole army, you shall most willingly have
your share. But, if there is not, surely that army whose movement
is uncertain, must give up its claims for the present to that
which must inevitably take the field the moment the weather will
admit, and must continue in it the whole campaign.”[25]
Notwithstanding this reply, Gates persisted in imputing sectional
partiality to the commander-in-chief, and sought to impart
the same idea to Congress. “Either I am exceedingly dull or
unreasonably jealous,” writes he to his correspondent Mr. Lovell,
“if I do not discover by the style and tenor of the letters from
Morristown, how little I have to expect from thence. Generals
are so far like parsons, they are all for christening their own
child first; but, let an impartial moderating power decide between
us, and do not suffer Southern prejudices to weigh heavier in the
balance than the Northern.”[26]
60A letter from Mr. Lovell, dated the 23d of May, put an end
to the suspense of the general with respect to his position.
“Misconceptions of past resolves and consequent jealousies,”
writes he, “have produced a definition of the Northern department,
and General Schuyler is ordered to take command of it.
The resolve, also, which was thought to fix head-quarters at
Albany, is repealed.”
Such a resolve had actually been passed on the 22d, and Albany,
Ticonderoga, Fort Stanwix, and their dependencies, were thenceforward
to be considered as forming the Northern department.
The envoy of Gates, bearing the letter in which he had carved
out a command for Schuyler at Peekskill, arrived at Philadelphia
too late. The general was already provided for.
Schuyler was received with open arms at Albany, on the 3d
of June. “I had the satisfaction,” writes he, “to experience
the finest feelings which my country expressed on my arrival and
reappointment. The day after my arrival, the whole county
committee did me the honor in form to congratulate me.”
Gates was still in Albany, delaying to proceed with General
Fermois to Ticonderoga until the garrison should be sufficiently
strengthened. Although the resolve of Congress did but define
his position, which had been misunderstood, he persisted in considering
himself degraded, declined serving under General
Schuyler, who would have given him the post at Ticonderoga in
his absence; and obtaining permission to leave the department,
set out on the 9th for Philadelphia, to demand redress of Congress.
General St. Clair was sent to take command of the troops at
Ticonderoga, accompanied by Gen. de Fermois. As the whole
force in the Northern department would not be sufficient to command
61the extensive works there on both sides of the lake, St.
Clair was instructed to bestow his first attention in fortifying
Mount Independence, on the east side, Schuyler considering it
much the most defensible, and that it might be made capable of
sustaining a long and vigorous siege.
“I am fully convinced,” writes he, “that between two and
three thousand men can effectually maintain Mount Independence
and secure the pass.”
It would be imprudent, he thought, to station the greater
part of the forces at Fort Ticonderoga; as, should the enemy be
able to invest it, and cut off the communication with the country
on the east side, it might experience a disaster similar to that at
Fort Washington.
The orders of Schuyler to officers commanding posts in the
department, are characterized by his Dutch attention to cleanliness
as to the quarters of the soldiers, their bedding, clothing, and
equipments.
All officers mounting guard, were to have their hair dressed
and powdered. The adjutants of the several corps were to be
particularly careful that none of the non-commissioned officers
and soldiers mount guard without having their hair dressed and
powdered, their persons perfectly clean, and their arms and
accoutrements in the most complete order.
While Schuyler was thus providing for the security of Ticonderoga,
and enforcing cleanliness in his department, Gates was
wending his way to Philadelphia, his bosom swelling with imaginary
wrongs. He arrived there on the 18th. The next day at
noon, Mr. Roger Sherman, an Eastern delegate, informed Congress
that General Gates was waiting at the door, and wished
admittance.
62“For what purpose?” it was asked.
“To communicate intelligence of importance,” replied Mr.
Sherman.
Gates was accordingly ushered in, took his seat in an elbow
chair, and proceeded to give some news concerning the Indians;
their friendly dispositions, their delight at seeing French officers
in the American service, and other matters of the kind; then,
drawing forth some papers from his pocket, he opened upon the
real object of his visit; stating from his notes, in a flurried and
disjointed manner, the easy and happy life he had left to take up
arms for the liberties of America; and how strenuously he had
exerted himself in its defence; how that some time in March he
had been appointed to a command in the Northern department;
but that a few days ago, without having given any cause of
offence, without accusation, without trial, without hearing, without
notice, he had received a resolution by which he was, in a
most disgraceful manner, superseded in his command. Here his
irritated feelings got the better of his judgment, and he indulged
in angry reproaches of Congress, and recitals of a conversation
which had taken place between him and Mr. Duane, a member
of the House, whom he considered his enemy. Here Mr. Duane
rose, and addressing himself to the president, hoped the general
would observe order, and cease any personal observations, as he
could not, in Congress, enter into any controversy with him upon
the subject of former conversations.
Other of the members took fire; the conduct of the general
was pronounced disrespectful to the House, and unworthy of himself,
and it was moved and seconded that he be requested to withdraw.
Some of the Eastern delegates opposed the motion, and
endeavored to palliate his conduct. A wordy clamor ensued,
63during which the general stood, his papers in his hand, endeavoring
several times to be heard, but the clamor increasing, he withdrew
with the utmost indignation. It was then determined that
he should not again be admitted on the floor; but should be
informed that Congress were ready and willing to hear, by way
of memorial, any grievances of which he might have to complain.[27]
CHAPTER VII.
64
THE HIGHLAND PASSES OF THE HUDSON—GEORGE CLINTON IN COMMAND OF THE
FORTS—HIS MEASURES FOR DEFENCE—GENERALS GREENE AND KNOX EXAMINE
THE STATE OF THE FORTS—THEIR REPORT—THE GENERAL COMMAND
OF THE HUDSON OFFERED TO ARNOLD—DECLINED BY HIM—GIVEN TO PUTNAM—APPOINTMENT
OF DR. CRAIK IN THE MEDICAL DEPARTMENT—EXPEDITION
PLANNED AGAINST FORT INDEPENDENCE—BUT RELINQUISHED—WASHINGTON
SHIFTS HIS CAMP TO MIDDLEBROOK—STATE OF HIS ARMY—GENERAL
HOWE CROSSES INTO THE JERSEYS—POSITION OF THE TWO ARMIES
AT MIDDLEBROOK AND BEHIND THE RARITAN—CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN
WASHINGTON AND COLONEL REED.
The Highland passes of the Hudson, always objects of anxious
thought to Washington, were especially so at this juncture.
General McDougall still commanded at Peekskill, and General
George Clinton, who resided at New Windsor, had command of
the Highland forts. The latter, at the earnest request of the
New York Convention, had received from Congress the command
of brigadier-general in the Continental army. “My precarious
state of health and want of military knowledge,” writes he,
“would have rather induced me to have led a more retired life
than that of the army, had I been consulted on the occasion;
but as, early in the present contest, I laid it down as a maxim
not to refuse my best, though poor services, to my country in any
65way they should think proper to employ me, I cannot refuse the
honor done me in the present appointment.”[28]
He was perfectly sincere in what he said. George Clinton
was one of the soldiers of the Revolution who served from a
sense of duty, not from military inclination or a thirst for glory.
A long career of public service in various capacities illustrated
his modest worth and devoted patriotism.
When the “unhappy affair of Peekskill” had alarmed the
Convention of New York for the safety of the forts on the
Highlands, Clinton, authorized by that body, had ordered out
part of the militia of Orange, Dutchess, and Westchester counties,
without waiting for Washington’s approbation of the measure.
He had strengthened, also, with anchors and cables, the
chain drawn across the river at Fort Montgomery. “Had the
Convention suffered me to have paid my whole attention to this
business,” writes he to Washington (18th April), “it would have
been nearly completed by this time.”
A few days later came word that several transports were
anchored at Dobbs’ Ferry in the Tappan Sea. It might be
intended to divert attention from a movement towards the Delaware;
or to make incursions into the country back of Morristown,
seize on the passes through the mountains, and cut off the communication
between the army and the Hudson. To frustrate
such a design, Washington ordered Clinton to post as good a
number of troops from his garrison as he could spare, on the
mountains west of the river.
In the month of May, he writes to General McDougall:
“The imperfect state of the fortifications of Fort Montgomery
gives me great uneasiness, because I think, from a concurrence of
66circumstances, that it begins to look as if the enemy intended to
turn their view towards the North River instead of the Delaware.
I therefore desire that General George Clinton, and yourself,
will fall upon every measure to put the fortifications in such a
state that they may at least resist a sudden attack, and keep the
enemy employed till reinforcements may arrive. If the North
River is their object, they cannot accomplish it unless they withdraw
their forces from the Jerseys, and that they cannot do
unknown to us.”
On the 12th of May, General Greene received instructions
from Washington to proceed to the Highlands, and examine the
state and condition of the forts, especially Fort Montgomery;
the probability of an attack by water, the practicability of an
approach by land; where and how this could be effected, and the
eminences whence the forts could be annoyed. This done, and
the opinions of the general officers present having been consulted,
he was to give such orders and make such disposition of the
troops as might appear necessary for the greater security of the
passes by land and water. When reconnoitring the Highlands in
the preceding year, Washington had remarked a wild and rugged
pass on the western side of the Hudson round Bull Hill, a rocky,
forest-clad mountain, forming an advance rampart at the entrance
to Peekskill Bay. “This pass,” he observed, “should also be
attended to, lest the enemy by a coup de main should possess
themselves of it, before a sufficient force could be assembled to
oppose them.” Subsequent events will illustrate, though unfortunately,
the sagacity and foresight of this particular instruction.
General Knox was associated with General Greene in this visit
of inspection. They examined the river and the passes of the
Highlands in company with Generals McDougall, George Clinton,
67and Anthony Wayne. The latter, recently promoted to the rank
of brigadier, had just returned from Ticonderoga. The five
generals made a joint report to Washington, in which they
recommended the completion of the obstructions in the river
already commenced. These consisted of a boom, or heavy iron
chain, across the river from Fort Montgomery to Anthony’s Nose
with cables stretched in front to break the force of any ship
under way, before she could strike it. The boom was to be
protected by the guns of two ships and two row galleys stationed
just above it, and by batteries on shore. This, it was deemed,
would be sufficient to prevent the enemy’s ships from ascending
the river. If these obstructions could be rendered effective, they
did not think the enemy would attempt to operate by land; “the
passes through the Highlands being so exceedingly difficult.”
The general command of the Hudson, from the number of
troops to be assembled there, and the variety of points to be
guarded, was one of the most important in the service, and
required an officer of consummate energy, activity and judgment.
It was a major-general’s command, and as such was offered by
Washington to Arnold; intending thus publicly to manifest his
opinion of his deserts, and hoping, by giving him so important a
post, to appease his irritated feelings.
Arnold, however, declined to accept it. In an interview with
Washington at Morristown, he alleged his anxiety to proceed to
Philadelphia and settle his public accounts, which were of considerable
amount; especially as reports had been circulated
injurious to his character as a man of integrity. He intended,
therefore, to wait on Congress, and request a committee of inquiry
into his conduct. Beside, he did not consider the promotion conferred
on him by Congress sufficient to obviate their previous
68neglect, as it did not give him the rank he had a claim to, from
seniority in the line of brigadiers. In their last resolve respecting
him, they had acknowledged him competent to the station of
major-general, and, therefore, had done away every objection
implied by their former omission. With these considerations he
proceeded to Philadelphia, bearing a letter from Washington to
the President of Congress, countenancing his complaints, and
testifying to the excellence of his military character. We may
here add, that the accusations against him were pronounced false
and slanderous by the Board of War; that the report of the
board was confirmed by Congress, but that Arnold was still left
aggrieved and unredressed in point of rank.
The important command of the Hudson being declined by
Arnold, was now given to Putnam, who repaired forthwith to
Peekskill. General McDougall was requested by Washington to
aid the veteran in gaining a knowledge of the post. “You are
well acquainted,” writes he, “with the old gentleman’s temper;
he is active, disinterested, and open to conviction.”
Putnam set about promptly to carry into effect the measures
of security which Greene and Knox had recommended; especially
the boom and chain at Fort Montgomery, about which
General George Clinton had busied himself. Putnam had a
peculiar fancy for river obstructions of the kind. A large part of
the New York and New England troops were stationed at this
post, not merely to guard the Hudson, but to render aid either to
the Eastern or Middle States in case of exigency.
About this time, Washington had the satisfaction of drawing
near to him his old friend and travelling companion, Dr. James
Craik, the same who had served with him in Braddock’s campaign,
and had voyaged with him down the Ohio; for whom he
69now procured the appointment of assistant director-general of
the Hospital department of the middle district, which included the
States between the Hudson and the Potomac. In offering the
situation to the doctor, he writes, “you know how far you may be
benefited or injured by such an appointment, and whether it is
advisable or practicable for you to quit your family and practice at
this time. I request, as a friend, that my proposing this matter
to you may have no influence upon your acceptance of it. I have
no other end in view than to serve you.” Dr. Craik, it will be
found, remained his attached and devoted friend through life.
It had been Washington’s earnest wish in the early part of
the spring, to take advantage of the inactivity of the enemy, and
attempt some “capital stroke” for the benefit of the next campaign;
but the want of troops prevented him. He now planned
a night expedition for Putnam, exactly suited to the humor of
the old general. He was to descend the Hudson in boats,
surprise Fort Independence at Spyt den Duivel Creek, capture
the garrison, and sweep the road between that post and the Highlands.
Putnam was all on fire for the enterprise, when movements
on the part of the enemy, seemingly indicative of a design
upon Philadelphia, obliged Washington to abandon the project,
and exert all his vigilance in watching the hostile operations in
the Jerseys.
Accordingly, towards the end of May, he broke up his cantonments
at Morristown, and shifted his camp to Middlebrook,
within ten miles of Brunswick. His whole force fit for duty was
now about seven thousand three hundred men, all from the States
south of the Hudson. There were forty-three regiments, forming
ten brigades, commanded by Brigadiers Muhlenberg, Weedon,
Woodford, Scott, Smallwood, Deborre, Wayne, Dehaas, Conway,
70and Maxwell. These were apportioned into five divisions of two
brigades each, under Major-generals Greene, Stephen, Sullivan,
Lincoln and Stirling. The artillery was commanded by Knox.
Sullivan, with his division, was stationed on the right at Princeton.
With the rest of his force, Washington fortified himself in
a position naturally strong, among hills, in the rear of the village
of Middlebrook. His camp was, on all sides, difficult of approach,
and he rendered it still more so by intrenchments. The high
grounds about it commanded a wide view of the country around
Brunswick, the road to Philadelphia, and the course of the
Raritan, so that the enemy could make no important movement
on land, without his perceiving it.
It was now the beautiful season of the year, and the troops
from their height beheld a fertile and well cultivated country
spread before them, “painted with meadows, green fields and
orchards, studded with villages, and affording abundant supplies
and forage.” A part of their duty was to guard it from the
ravage of the enemy, while they held themselves ready to counteract
his movements in every direction.
On the 31st of May, reports were brought to camp that a
fleet of a hundred sail had left New York, and stood out to sea.
Whither bound, and how freighted, was unknown. If they carried
troops, their destination might be Delaware Bay. Eighteen
transports, also, had arrived at New York, with troops in foreign
uniforms. Were they those which had been in Canada, or others
immediately from Germany? Those who had reconnoitred them
with glasses could not tell. All was matter of anxious conjecture.
Lest the fleet which had put to sea should be bound farther
south than Delaware Bay, Washington instantly wrote to Patrick
71Henry, at that time governor of Virginia, putting him on his
guard. “Should this fleet arrive on your coast, and the enemy
attempt to penetrate the country, or make incursions, I would
recommend that the earliest opposition be made by parties and
detachments of militia, without waiting to collect a large body.
I am convinced that this would be attended with the most
salutary consequences, and that greater advantages would be
derived from it, than by deferring the opposition till you assemble
a number equal to that of the enemy.”
The troops in foreign uniforms which had landed from the
transports, proved to be Anspachers, and other German mercenaries;
there were British reinforcements also; and, what
was particularly needed, a supply of tents and camp equipage.
Sir William Howe had been waiting for the latter, and likewise
until the ground should be covered with grass.[29]
The country was now in full verdure, affording “green forage”
in abundance, and all things seemed to Sir William propitious
for the opening of the campaign. Early in June, therefore, he
gave up ease and gayety, and luxurious life at New York, and
crossing into the Jerseys, set up his head-quarters at Brunswick.
As soon as Washington ascertained that Sir William’s attention
was completely turned to this quarter, he determined to strengthen
his position with all the force that could be spared from other
parts, so as to be able, in case a favorable opportunity presented,
to make an attack upon the enemy; in the mean time, he would
harass them with his light militia troops, aided by a few Continentals,
so as to weaken their numbers by continual skirmishes.
With this view, he ordered General Putnam to send down most
72of the Continental troops from Peekskill, leaving only a number
sufficient, in conjunction with the militia, to guard that post
against surprise. They were to proceed in three divisions, under
Generals Parsons, McDougall, and Glover, at one day’s march
distant from each other.
Arnold, in this critical juncture, had been put in command
of Philadelphia, a post which he had been induced to accept,
although the question of rank had not been adjusted to his satisfaction.
His command embraced the western bank of the Delaware
with all its fords and passes, and he took up his station
there with a strong body of militia, supported by a few Continentals,
to oppose any attempt of the enemy to cross the river.
He was instructed by Washington to give him notice by expresses,
posted on the road, if any fleet should appear in Delaware
Bay; and to endeavor to concert signals with the camp of Sullivan
at Princeton, by alarm fires upon the hills.
On the night of the 13th of June, General Howe sallied
forth in great force from Brunswick, as if pushing directly for
the Delaware, but his advanced guard halted at Somerset court house,
about eight or nine miles distant. Apprised of this movement,
Washington at daybreak reconnoitred the enemy from the
heights before the camp. He observed their front halting at the
court house, but a few miles distant, while troops and artillery
were grouped here and there along the road, and the rear-guard
was still at Brunswick. It was a question with Washington and
his generals, as they reconnoitred the enemy with their glasses,
whether this was a real move toward Philadelphia, or merely a
lure to tempt them down from their strong position. In this
uncertainty, Washington drew out his army in battle array along
the heights, but kept quiet. In the present state of his forces
73it was his plan not to risk a general action; but, should the
enemy really march toward the Delaware, to hang heavily upon
their rear. Their principal difficulty would be in crossing that
river, and there, he trusted, they would meet with spirited opposition
from the Continental troops and militia, stationed on the
western side under Arnold and Mifflin.
The British took up a strong position, having Millstone Creek
on their left, the Raritan all along their front, and their right
resting on Brunswick, and proceeded to fortify themselves with
bastions.
While thus anxiously situated, Washington, on the 14th, received
a letter from Colonel Reed, his former secretary and confidential
friend. A coolness had existed on the general’s part,
ever since he had unwarily opened the satirical letter of General
Lee; yet he had acted towards Reed with his habitual highmindedness,
and had recently nominated him as general of cavalry.
The latter had deeply deplored the interruption of their
once unreserved intercourse; he had long, he said, desired to have
one hour of private conversation with Washington on the subject
of Lee’s letter, but had deferred it in the hope of obtaining his
own letter to which that was an answer. In that he had been
disappointed by Lee’s captivity. On the present occasion, Reed’s
heart was full, and he refers to former times in language that is
really touching:
“I am sensible, my dear sir,” writes he, “how difficult it is
to regain lost friendship; but the consciousness of never having
justly forfeited yours, and the hope that it may be in my power
fully to convince you of it, are some consolation for an event
which I never think of but with the greatest concern. In the
mean time, my dear general, let me entreat you to judge of me
74by realities, not by appearances; and believe that I never entertained
or expressed a sentiment incompatible with that regard
I professed for your person and character, and which, whether I
shall be so happy as to possess your future good opinion or not,
I shall carry to my grave with me.
“A late perusal of the letters you honored me with at Cambridge
and New York, last year, afforded me a melancholy pleasure.
I cannot help acknowledging myself deeply affected, in a
comparison with those which I have since received. I should
not, my dear sir, have trespassed on your time and patience at
this juncture so long, but that a former letter upon this subject I
fear has miscarried; and whatever may be my future destination
and course of life, I could not support the reflection of
being thought ungrateful and insincere to a friendship which was
equally my pride and my pleasure. May God Almighty crown
your virtue, my dear and much respected general, with deserved
success, and make your life as happy and honorable to yourself
as it has been useful to your country.”
The heart of Washington was moved by this appeal, and
though in the midst of military preparations, with a hostile army
at hand, he detained Colonel Reed’s messenger long enough to
write a short letter in reply: “to thank you,” said he, “as I do
most sincerely, for the friendly and affectionate sentiments contained
in yours towards me, and to assure you that I am perfectly
convinced of the sincerity of them.
“True it is, I felt myself hurt by a certain letter, which
appeared at that time to be the echo of one from you; I was hurt—not
because I thought my judgment wronged by the expressions
contained in it, but because the same sentiments were not
communicated immediately to myself. The favorable manner in
75which your opinions, upon all occasions, had been received, the
impressions they made, and the unreserved manner in which I
wished and required them to be given, entitled me, I thought, to
your advice upon any point in which I appeared to be wanting.
To meet with any thing, then, that carried with it a complexion
of withholding that advice from me, and censuring my conduct
to another, was such an argument of disingenuity, that I was not
a little mortified at it. However, I am perfectly satisfied that
matters were not as they appeared from the letter alluded to.”
Washington was not of a distrustful spirit. From this moment,
we are told, that all estrangement disappeared, and the
ancient relations of friendly confidence between him and Colonel
Reed were restored.[30] His whole conduct throughout the affair
bears evidence of his candor and magnanimity.
CHAPTER VIII.
76
DEIGNED MOVEMENTS OF SIR WILLIAM HOWE—BAFFLING CAUTION OF WASHINGTON—RUMORED
INROADS FROM THE NORTH—SCHUYLER APPLIES FOR
REINFORCEMENTS—RENEWED SCHEMES OF HOWE TO DRAW WASHINGTON
FROM HIS STRONGHOLD—SKIRMISH BETWEEN CORNWALLIS AND LORD
STIRLING—THE ENEMY EVACUATE THE JERSEYS—PERPLEXITY AS TO THEIR
NEXT MOVEMENT—A HOSTILE FLEET ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN—BURGOYNE
APPROACHING TICONDEROGA—SPECULATIONS OF WASHINGTON—HIS PURPOSE
OF KEEPING SIR WILLIAM HOWE FROM ASCENDING THE HUDSON—ORDERS
GEORGE CLINTON TO CALL OUT MILITIA FROM ULSTER AND ORANGE
COUNTIES—SENDS SULLIVAN TOWARDS THE HIGHLANDS—MOVES HIS OWN
CAMP BACK TO MORRISTOWN—STIR AMONG THE SHIPPING—THEIR DESTINATION
SURMISED TO BE PHILADELPHIA—A DINNER AT HEAD-QUARTERS—ALEXANDER
HAMILTON—GRAYDON’S RUEFUL DESCRIPTION OF THE ARMY—HIS
CHARACTER OF WAYNE.
The American and British armies, strongly posted, as we have
shown, the former along the heights of Middlebrook, the other
beyond the Raritan, remained four days grimly regarding each
other; both waiting to be attacked. The Jersey militia, which
now turned out with alacrity, repaired, some to Washington’s
camp, others to that of Sullivan. The latter had fallen back
from Princeton, and taken a position behind the Sourland Hills.
Howe pushed out detachments, and made several feints, as if
to pass by the American camp and march to the Delaware; but
Washington was not to be deceived. “The enemy will not move
77that way,” said he, “until they have given this army a severe blow.
The risk would be too great to attempt to cross a river where
they must expect to meet a formidable opposition in front, and
would have such a force as ours in their rear.” He kept on the
heights, therefore, and strengthened his intrenchments.
Baffled in these attempts to draw his cautious adversary into
a general action, Howe, on the 19th, suddenly broke up his camp,
and pretended to return with some precipitation to Brunswick,
burning as he went several valuable dwelling-houses. Washington’s
light troops hovered round the enemy as far as the Raritan
and Millstone, which secured their flanks, would permit; but the
main army kept to its stronghold on the heights.
On the next day came warlike news from the North. Amesbury,
a British spy, had been seized and examined by Schuyler.
Burgoyne was stated as being arrived at Quebec to command the
forces in an invasion from Canada. While he advanced with his
main force by Lake Champlain, a detachment of British troops,
Canadians and Indians, led by Sir John Johnson, was to penetrate
by Oswego to the Mohawk River, and place itself between Fort
Stanwix and Fort Edward.
If this information was correct, Ticonderoga would soon be
attacked. The force there might be sufficient for its defence, but
Schuyler would have no troops to oppose the inroad of Sir John
Johnson, and he urged a reinforcement. Washington forthwith sent
orders to Putnam to procure sloops, and hold four Massachusetts
regiments in readiness to go up the river at a moment’s warning.
Still, if the information of the spy was correct, he doubted the
ability of the enemy to carry the reported plan into effect. It
did not appear that Burgoyne had brought any reinforcements
from Europe. If so, he could not move with a greater force than
78five thousand men. The garrison at Ticonderoga was sufficiently
strong, according to former accounts, to hold it against an attack.
Burgoyne certainly would never leave it in his rear, and if he
invested it, he would not have a sufficient number left to send
one body to Oswego and another to cut off the communications
between Fort Edward and Fort George. Such was Washington’s
reasoning in a reply to Schuyler. In the mean time, he retained
his mind unflurried by these new rumors; keeping from his heights
a vigilant eye upon General Howe.
On the 22d, Sir William again marched out of Brunswick,
but this time proceeded towards Amboy, again burning several
houses on the way; hoping, perhaps, that the sight of columns of
smoke rising from a ravaged country would irritate the Americans,
and provoke an attack. Washington sent out three brigades
under General Greene to fall upon the rear of the enemy, while
Morgan hung upon their skirts with his riflemen. At the same
time the army remained paraded on the heights ready to yield
support, if necessary.
Finding that Howe had actually sent his heavy baggage and
part of his troops over to Staten Island by a bridge of boats which
he had thrown across, Washington, on the 24th, left the heights and
descended to Quibbletown (now New Market), six or seven miles
on the road to Amboy, to be nearer at hand for the protection of
his advanced parties; while Lord Stirling with his division and
some light troops was at Matouchin church, closer to the enemy’s
lines, to watch their motions, and be ready to harass them while
crossing to the island.
General Howe now thought he had gained his point. Recalling
those who had crossed, he formed his troops into two columns,
the right led by Cornwallis, the left by himself, and marched
79back rapidly by different routes from Amboy. He had three
objects in view: to cut off the principal advanced parties of the
Americans; to come up with and bring the main body into an
engagement near Quibbletown; or that Lord Cornwallis, making a
considerable circuit to the right, should turn the left of Washington’s
position, get to the heights, take possession of the passes, and
oblige him to abandon that stronghold where he had hitherto
been so secure.[31]
Washington, however, had timely notice of his movements,
and penetrating his design, regained his fortified camp at Middlebrook,
and secured the passes of the mountains. He then detached
a body of light troops under Brigadier-general Scott, together
with Morgan’s riflemen, to hang on the flank of the enemy
and watch their motions.
Cornwallis, in his circuitous march, dispersed the light parties
of the advance, but fell in with Lord Stirling’s division, strongly
posted in a woody country, and well covered by artillery judiciously
disposed. A sharp skirmish ensued, when the Americans
gave way and retreated to the hills, with the loss of a few
men and three field-pieces; while the British halted at Westfield,
disappointed in the main objects of their enterprise. They remained
at Westfield until the afternoon of the 27th, when they
moved toward Spanktown (now Rahway), plundering all before
them, and, it is said, burning several houses; but pursued and
harassed the whole way by the American light troops.[32]
Perceiving that every scheme of bringing the Americans to a
general action, or at least of withdrawing them from their strongholds,
was rendered abortive by the caution and prudence of
80Washington, and aware of the madness of attempting to march
to the Delaware, through a hostile country, with such a force in
his rear, Sir William Howe broke up his head-quarters at Amboy
on the last of June, and crossed over to Staten Island on the floating
bridge; his troops that were encamped opposite to Amboy
struck their tents on the following day, and marched off to the
old camping ground on the Bay of New York; the ships got
under way, and moved down round the island; and it was soon
apparent, that at length the enemy had really evacuated the Jerseys.
The question now was, what would be their next move? A
great stir among the shipping seemed to indicate an expedition
by water. But whither? Circumstances occurred to perplex the
question.
Scarce had the last tent been struck, and the last transport
disappeared from before Amboy, when intelligence arrived from
General St. Clair, announcing the appearance of a hostile fleet on
Lake Champlain, and that General Burgoyne with the whole
Canada army was approaching Ticonderoga. The judgment and
circumspection of Washington were never more severely put to the
proof. Was this merely a diversion with a small force of light
troops and Indians, intended to occupy the attention of the American
forces in that quarter, while the main body of the army in
Canada should come round by sea, and form a junction with the
army under Howe? But General Burgoyne, in Washington’s
opinion, was a man of too much spirit and enterprise to return
from England merely to execute a plan from which no honor was
to be derived. Did he really intend to break through by the way
of Ticonderoga? In that case it must be Howe’s plan to co-operate
with him. Had all the recent manœuvres of the enemy
81in the Jerseys, which had appeared so enigmatical to Washington,
been merely a stratagem to amuse him until they should receive
intelligence of the movements of Burgoyne? If so, Sir William
must soon throw off the mask. His next move, in such case,
would be to ascend the Hudson, seize on the Highland passes
before Washington could form a union with the troops stationed
there, and thus open the way for the junction with Burgoyne.
Should Washington, however, on such a presumption, hasten with
his troops to Peekskill, leaving General Howe on Staten Island,
what would prevent the latter from pushing to Philadelphia by
South Amboy or any other route?
Such were the perplexities and difficulties presenting themselves
under every aspect of the case, and discussed by Washington
in his correspondence with his accustomed clearness. In
this dilemma he sent Generals Parsons and Varnum with a couple
of brigades in all haste to Peekskill; and wrote to Generals
George Clinton and Putnam; the former to call out the New
York militia from Orange and Ulster counties; the latter to
summon the militia from Connecticut; and as soon as such reinforcements
should be at hand, to despatch four of the strongest
Massachusetts regiments to the aid of Ticonderoga; at the same
time the expediency was suggested to General Schuyler, of having
all the cattle and vehicles removed from such parts of the country
which he might think the enemy intended to penetrate.
General Sullivan, moreover, was ordered to advance with his
division towards the Highlands as far as Pompton, while Washington
moved his own camp back to Morristown, to be ready
either to push on to the Highlands, or fall back upon his recent
position at Middlebrook, according to the movements of the enemy.
82“If I can keep General Howe below the Highlands,” said he, “I
think their schemes will be entirely baffled.”
Deserters from Staten Island and New York soon brought
word to the camp that transports were being fitted up with berths
for horses, and taking in three weeks’ supply of water and provender.
All this indicated some other destination than that of
the Hudson. Lest an attempt on the Eastern States should be
intended, Washington sent a circular to their governors to put
them on their guard.
In the midst of his various cares, his yeoman soldiery, the
Jersey militia, were not forgotten. It was their harvest time;
and the State being evacuated, there was no immediate call for
their services; he dismissed, therefore, almost the whole of them
to their homes.
Captain Graydon, whose memoirs we have heretofore had
occasion to quote, paid a visit to the camp at this juncture, in
company with Colonel Miles and Major West, all American prisoners
on Long Island, but who had been liberated on parole.
Graydon remarks that, to their great surprise, they saw no military
parade upon their journey, nor any indication of martial
vigor on the part of the country. Here and there a militia man
with his contrasted colored cape and facings; doubtless some one
who had received his furlough, and was bound home to his farm.
Captains, majors, and colonels abounded in the land, but were not
to be found at the head of their men.
When he arrived at the camp, he could see nothing which
deserved the name of army. “I was told, indeed,” remarks he,
“that it was much weakened by detachments, and I was glad to
find there was some cause for the present paucity of soldiers. I
could not doubt, however, that things were going on well. The
83commander-in-chief and all about him were in excellent spirits.”
The three officers waited on Washington at his marquee in the
evening. In the course of conversation, he asked them what
they conceived to be the objects of General Howe. Colonel Miles
replied, a co-operation with the Northern army by means of the
Hudson. Washington acknowledged that indications and probabilities
tended to that conclusion; nevertheless, he had little
doubt the object of Howe was Philadelphia.
Graydon and his companions dined the next day at head-quarters;
there was a large party, in which were several ladies.
Colonel Alexander Hamilton, who, in the preceding month of
April, had been received into Washington’s family as aide-de-camp,
presided at the head of the table, and “acquitted himself,”
writes Graydon, “with an ease, propriety, and vivacity which
gave me the most favorable impression of his talents and accomplishments.”
We may here observe that the energy, skill, and intelligence
displayed by Hamilton throughout the last year’s campaign, whenever
his limited command gave him opportunity of evincing them,
had won his entrance to head-quarters; where his quick discernment
and precocious judgment were soon fully appreciated.
Strangers were surprised to see a youth, scarce twenty years of
age, received into the implicit confidence, and admitted into the
gravest counsels, of a man like Washington. While his uncommon
talents thus commanded respect, rarely inspired by one of
his years, his juvenile appearance and buoyant spirit made him
a universal favorite. Harrison, the “old secretary,” much his
senior, looked upon him with an almost paternal eye, and regarding
his diminutive size and towering spirit, used to call him
84“the little lion;” while Washington would now and then speak
of him by the cherishing appellation of “my boy.”[33]
The following is Graydon’s amusing account of Wayne, whom
he visited at his quarters. “He entertained the most sovereign
contempt for the enemy. In his confident way, he affirmed that
the two armies had interchanged their original modes of warfare.
That for our parts, we had thrown away the shovel, and the British
had taken it up; as they dared not face us without the cover
of an intrenchment. I made some allowance for the fervid manner
of the general, who, though unquestionably as brave a man
as any in the army, was nevertheless somewhat addicted to the
vaunting style of Marshal Villars, a man who, like himself, could
fight as well as brag.”
Graydon speaks of the motley, shabby clothing of the troops.
“Even in General Wayne himself, there was in this particular
a considerable falling off. His quondam regimentals as colonel
of the 4th battalion were, I think, blue and white, in which he
had been accustomed to appear with exemplary neatness; whereas
he was now dressed in character for Macheath or Captain Gibbet,
in a dingy red coat, with a black rusty cravat and tarnished
hat.” Wayne was doubtless still rusty from his campaigning in
the north.
85Graydon, during his recent captivity, had been accustomed to
the sight of British troops in the completeness of martial array,
and looked with a rueful eye on patriotism in rags. From all that
he saw at the camp, he suspected affairs were not in a prosperous
train, notwithstanding the cheerful countenances at head-quarters.
There appeared to be a want of animated co-operation
both on the part of the government and the people. “General
Washington, with the little remnant of his army at Morristown,
seemed left to scuffle for liberty, like another Cato at Utica.”[34]
We will now turn to the North, and lift the curtain for a moment,
to give the reader a glance at affairs in that quarter,
about which there were such dubious rumors.
CHAPTER IX.
86
BRITISH INVASION FROM CANADA—THE PLAN—COMPOSITION OF THE INVADING
ARMY—SCHUYLER ON THE ALERT—HIS SPECULATIONS AS TO THE
ENEMY’S DESIGNS—BURGOYNE ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN—HIS WAR-SPEECH TO
HIS INDIAN ALLIES—SIGNS OF HIS APPROACH DESCRIED FROM TICONDEROGA—CORRESPONDENCE
ON THE SUBJECT BETWEEN ST. CLAIR, MAJOR
LIVINGSTON, AND SCHUYLER—BURGOYNE INTRENCHES NEAR TICONDEROGA—HIS
PROCLAMATION—SCHUYLER’S EXERTIONS AT ALBANY TO FORWARD
REINFORCEMENTS—HEARS THAT TICONDEROGA IS EVACUATED—MYSTERIOUS
DISAPPEARANCE OF ST. CLAIR AND HIS TROOPS—AMAZEMENT AND CONCERN
OF WASHINGTON—ORDERS REINFORCEMENTS TO SCHUYLER AT FORT EDWARD,
AND TO PUTNAM AT PEEKSKILL—ADVANCES WITH HIS MAIN ARMY TO THE
CLOVE—HIS HOPEFUL SPIRIT MANIFESTED.
The armament advancing against Ticonderoga, of which General
St. Clair had given intelligence, was not a mere diversion, but a
regular invasion; the plan of which had been devised by the
king, Lord George Germain, and General Burgoyne the latter
having returned to England from Canada in the preceding year.
The junction of the two armies,—that in Canada and that under
General Howe in New York,—was considered the speediest mode
of quelling the rebellion; and as the security and good government
of Canada required the presence of Governor Sir Guy
Carleton, three thousand men were to remain there with him:
the residue of the army was to be employed upon two expeditions;
87the one under General Burgoyne, who was to force his way
to Albany, the other under Lieutenant-colonel St. Leger, who
was to make a diversion on the Mohawk River.
The invading army was composed of three thousand seven
hundred and twenty-four British rank and file, three thousand
sixteen Germans, mostly Brunswickers, two hundred and fifty
Canadians, and four hundred Indians; beside these there were
four hundred and seventy-three artillery men, in all nearly eight
thousand men. The army was admirably appointed. Its brass
train of artillery was extolled as perhaps the finest ever allotted
to an army of the size. General Phillips, who commanded the
artillery, had gained great reputation in the wars in Germany.
Brigadiers-general Fraser, Powel, and Hamilton, were also
officers of distinguished merit. So was Major-general the Baron
Riedesel, a Brunswicker, who commanded the German troops.
While Burgoyne with the main force proceeded from St.
Johns, Colonel St. Leger, with a detachment of regulars and
Canadians about seven hundred strong, was to land at Oswego,
and, guided by Sir John Johnson at the head of his loyalist volunteers,
tory refugees from his former neighborhood, and a body
of Indians, was to enter the Mohawk country, draw the attention
of General Schuyler in that direction, attack Fort Stanwix,
and, having ravaged the valley of the Mohawk, rejoin Burgoyne
at Albany; where it was expected they would make a triumphant
junction with the army of Sir William Howe.
General Burgoyne left St. Johns on the 16th of June. Some
idea may be formed of his buoyant anticipation of a triumphant
progress through the country, by the manifold and lumbering
appurtenances of a European camp with which his army was encumbered.
In this respect he had committed the same error in
88his campaign through a wilderness of lakes and forests, that had
once embarrassed the unfortunate Braddock in his march across
the mountains of Virginia.
Schuyler was uncertain as to the plans and force of the enemy.
If information gathered from scouts and a captured spy
might be relied on, Ticonderoga would soon be attacked; but he
trusted the garrison was sufficient to maintain it. This information
he transmitted to Washington from Fort Edward on the
16th, the very day that Burgoyne embarked at St. Johns.
On the following day Schuyler was at Ticonderoga. The
works were not in such a state of forwardness as he had anticipated,
owing to the tardy arrival of troops, and the want of a
sufficient number of artificers. The works in question related
chiefly to Mount Independence, a high circular hill on the east
side of the lake, immediately opposite to the old fort, and considered
the most defensible. A star fort with pickets crowned
the summit of the hill, which was table land; half way down the
side of a hill was a battery, and at its foot were strongly
intrenched works well mounted with cannon. Here the French
General de Fermois, who had charge of this fort, was posted.
As this part of Lake Champlain is narrow, a connection was
kept up between the two forts by a floating bridge, supported on
twenty-two sunken piers in caissons, formed of very strong timber.
Between the piers were separate floats, fifty feet long and
twelve feet wide, strongly connected by iron chains and rivets.
On the north side of the bridge was a boom, composed of large
pieces of timber, secured by riveted bolts, and beside this was a
double iron chain with links an inch and a half square. The
bridge, boom, and chain were four hundred yards in length.
This immense work, the labor of months, on which no expense
89had been spared, was intended, while it afforded a communication
between the two forts, to protect the upper part of the lake, presenting,
under cover of their guns, a barrier, which it was presumed
no hostile ship would be able to break through.
Having noted the state of affairs and the wants of the garrison,
Schuyler hastened to Fort George, whence he sent on provisions
for upwards of sixty days; and from the banks of the
Hudson additional carpenters and working cattle. “Business
will now go on in better train, and I hope with much more
spirit,” writes he to Congress; “and I trust we shall still be
able to put every thing in such order as to give the enemy a
good reception, and, I hope a repulse, should they attempt a real
attack, which I conjecture will not be soon, if at all; although I
expect they will approach with their fleet to keep us in alarm,
and to draw our attention from other quarters where they may
mean a real attack.”
His idea was that, while their fleet and a small body of
troops might appear before Ticonderoga, and keep up continual
alarms, the main army might march from St. Francois or St.
Johns towards the Connecticut River, and make an attempt on
the Eastern States. “A manœuvre of this kind,” observes he,
“would be in General Burgoyne’s way, and, if successful, would
be attended with much honor to him. * * * * I am the
more confirmed in this conjecture, as the enemy cannot be ignorant
how very difficult, if not impossible, it will be for them to
penetrate to Albany, unless in losing Ticonderoga we should lose
not only all our cannon, but most of the army designed for this
department.”
In the mean time, Burgoyne, with his amphibious and semibarbarous
armament, was advancing up the lake. On the 21st
90of June he encamped at the river Boquet, several miles north of
Crown Point; here he gave a war feast to his savage allies, and
made them a speech in that pompous and half poetical vein in
which it is the absurd practice to address our savages, and which
is commonly reduced to flat prose by their interpreters. At the
same time he was strenuous in enjoining humanity toward prisoners,
dwelling on the difference between ordinary wars carried on
against a common enemy, and this against a country in rebellion,
where the hostile parties were of the same blood, and loyal subjects
of the crown might be confounded with the rebellious. It
was a speech intended to excite their ardor, but restrain their
cruelty; a difficult medium to attain with Indian warriors.
The garrison at Ticonderoga, meanwhile, were anxiously on
the look-out. Their fortress, built on a hill, commanded an
extensive prospect over the bright and beautiful lake and its surrounding
forests, but there were long points and promontories at
a distance to intercept the view.
By the 24th, scouts began to bring in word of the approaching
foe. Bark canoes had been seen filled with white men and
savages. Then three vessels under sail, and one at anchor, above
Split Rock, and behind it the radeau Thunderer, noted in the
last year’s naval fight. Anon came word of encampments sufficient
for a large body of troops, on both sides of Gilliland’s Creek,
with bateaux plying about its waters, and painted warriors
gliding about in canoes; while a number of smokes rising out
of the forest at a distance beyond, gave signs of an Indian
camp.
St. Clair wrote word of all this to Schuyler, and that it was
supposed the enemy were waiting the arrival of more force;
91he did not, however, think they intended to attack, but to harass,
for the purpose of giving confidence to the Indians.
Schuyler transmitted a copy of St. Clair’s letter to Washington.
“If the enemy’s object is not to attack Ticonderoga,”
writes he, “I suspect their movement is intended to cover an
attempt on New Hampshire, or the Mohawk River, or to cut off
the communication between Fort Edward and Fort George, or
perhaps all three, the more to distract us and divide our force.”
He urged Washington for reinforcements as soon as possible.
At the same time he wrote to St. Clair, to keep scouts on the
east side of the lake near the road leading from St. Johns to
New Hampshire, and on the west, on the road leading to the
north branch of the Hudson. This done, he hastened to Albany
to forward reinforcements and bring up the militia.
While there, he received word from St. Clair, that the enemy’s
fleet and army were arrived at Crown Point, and had sent
off detachments, one up Otter Creek to cut off the communication
by Skenesborough; and another on the west side of the lake to
cut off Fort George. It was evident a real attack on Ticonderoga
was intended. Claims for assistance came hurrying on from
other quarters. A large force (St. Leger’s) was said to be arrived
at Oswego, and Sir John Johnson with his myrmidons on
his way to attack Fort Schuyler, the garrison of which was
weak and poorly supplied with cannon.
Schuyler bestirs himself with his usual zeal amid the thickening
alarms. He writes urgent letters to the committee of
safety of New York, to General Putnam at Peekskill, to the
Governor of Connecticut, to the President of Massachusetts, to
the committee of Berkshire, and lastly to Washington, stating
the impending dangers and imploring reinforcements. He exhorts
92General Herkimer to keep the militia of Tryon County in
readiness to protect the western frontier and to check the inroad
of Sir John Johnson, and he assures St. Clair that he will move
to his aid with the militia of New York, as soon as he can collect
them.
Dangers accumulate at Ticonderoga according to advices from
St. Clair (28th). Seven of the enemy’s vessels are lying at
Crown Point; the rest of their fleet is probably but a little lower
down. Morning guns are heard distinctly at various places.
Some troops have debarked and encamped at Chimney Point.
There is no prospect, he says, of being able to defend Ticonderoga
unless militia come in, and he has thought of calling in those
from Berkshire. “Should the enemy invest and blockade us,”
writes he, “we are infallibly ruined; we shall be obliged to
abandon this side (of the lake), and then they will soon force the
other from us, nor do I see that a retreat will in any shape be
practicable. Every thing, however, shall be done that is practicable
to frustrate the enemy’s designs; but what can be expected
from troops ill armed, naked, and unaccoutred?”
Schuyler’s aide-de-camp, Major Livingston,[35] who had been
detained at Ticonderoga by indisposition, writes to him (June
30th) in a different vein, and presents a young man’s view of
affairs.
“The enemy, after giving us several alarms, made their appearance
early this morning off Three Mile Point, in eighteen
gunboats, and about nine landed a party of two or three hundred
Indians and Canadians. These soon fell in with a scout from us,
but being superior in number, obliged them to retreat, though
93without any loss on our side. The Indians then marched to the
front of the French lines, drove in a picket guard, and came so
near as to wound two men who were standing behind the works.
They have stopped the communication between this and Lake
George.
“We have a fair view of their boats, but cannot see that
they have brought many regulars with them. At least the number
of red coats in them is very small. The wind having been
contrary for several days, has prevented their fleet from coming
up. The first fair breeze I shall expect to see them. Many bets
are depending that we shall be attacked in the course of this
week. Our troops are determined, and in great spirits. They
wish to be permitted to drive the savages from Three Mile Point,
but General St. Clair chooses to act on the sure side, and risk
nothing. The few alarms we have had have been of great service
in making the men alert and vigilant; but I am afraid the
enemy will repeat them so frequently as to throw them into their
former indolence and inattention. General St. Clair has taken
the precaution to move most of the stores to the mount [Independence].
This moment two ships and as many sloops have
hove in sight. The spirits of the men seem to increase in proportion
to the number of the enemy.
“I cannot but esteem myself fortunate that indisposition
prevented my returning with you, as it has given me an opportunity
of being present at a battle, in which I promise myself the
pleasure of seeing our army flushed with victory.”[36]
The enemy came advancing up the lake on the 30th, their
main body under Burgoyne on the west side, the German reserve
94under Baron Riedesel on the east; communication being maintained
by frigates and gunboats, which, in a manner, kept pace
between them. It was a magnificent array of warlike means;
and the sound of drum and trumpet along the shores, and now
and then the thundering of a cannon from the ships, were singularly
in contrast with the usual silence of a region little better
than a wilderness.
On the 1st of July, Burgoyne encamped four miles north of
Ticonderoga, and began to intrench, and to throw a boom across
the lake. His advanced guard under General Fraser took post
at Three Mile Point, and the ships anchored just out of gunshot
of the fort.
Here he issued a proclamation still more magniloquent than
his speech to the Indians, denouncing woe to all who should persist
in rebellion, and laying particular stress upon his means, with
the aid of the Indians, to overtake the hardiest enemies of Great
Britain and America wherever they might lurk.
General St. Clair was a gallant Scotchman, who had seen
service in the old French war as well as in this, and beheld the
force arrayed against him without dismay. It is true his garrison
was not so numerous as it had been represented to Washington,
not exceeding three thousand five hundred men, of whom
nine hundred were militia. They were badly equipped also, and
few had bayonets; yet, as Major Livingston reported, they were
in good heart. St. Clair confided, however, in the strength of
his position and the works which had been constructed in connection
with it, and trusted he should be able to resist any attempt
to take it by storm.
Schuyler at this time was at Albany, sending up reinforcements
of Continental troops and militia, and awaiting the arrival
95of further reinforcements, for which sloops had been sent down
to Peekskill.
He was endeavoring also to provide for the security of the
department in other quarters. The savages had been scalping
in the neighborhood of Fort Schuyler; a set of renegade Indians
were harassing the settlements on the Susquehanna; and the
threatenings of Brant, the famous Indian chief, and the prospect
of a British inroad by the way of Oswego, had spread terror
through Tryon County, the inhabitants of which called upon him
for support.
“The enemy are harassing us in every quarter of this department,”
writes he. “I am however, happily, thank God, in full
health and spirits to enable me to extend my attention to those
various quarters, and hope we shall all do well.”[37]
The enemy’s manœuvre of intrenching themselves and throwing
a boom across the lake, of which St. Clair informed him,
made him doubt of their being in great force, or intending a
serious attack. “I shall have great hopes,” writes he to St.
Clair, “if General Burgoyne continues in the vicinity of your
post until we get up, and dares risk an engagement, we shall give
a good account of him.”[38]
To General Herkimer, who commanded the militia in Tryon
County, he writes in the same encouraging strain. “From
intelligence which I have just now received from Ticonderoga, I
am not very apprehensive that any great effort will be made
against the Mohawk River. I shall, however, keep a watchful
eye to the preservation of the western quarter, and have therefore
directed Colonel Van Schaick to remain in Tryon County
with the [Continental] troops under his command.
96“If we act with vigor and spirit, we have nothing to fear;
but if once despondency takes place, the worst consequences are
to be apprehended. It is, therefore, incumbent on you to labor
to keep up the spirits of the people.”
In the mean time he awaited the arrival of the troops from
Peekskill with impatience. On the 5th they had not appeared.
“The moment they do,” writes he, “I shall move with them.
If they do not arrive by to-morrow, I go without them, and will
do the best I can with the militia.” He actually did set out at 8
o’clock on the morning of the 7th.
Such was the state of affairs in the north, of which Washington
from time to time had been informed. An attack on Ticonderoga
appeared to be impending; but as the garrison was in
good heart, the commander resolute, and troops were on the way
to reinforce him, a spirited, and perhaps successful resistance was
anticipated by Washington. His surprise may therefore be
imagined, on receiving a letter from Schuyler dated July 7th,
conveying the astounding intelligence that Ticonderoga was
evacuated!
Schuyler had just received the news at Stillwater on the
Hudson when on his way with reinforcements for the fortress.
The first account was so vague that Washington hoped it might
prove incorrect. It was confirmed by another letter from Schuyler,
dated on the 9th at Fort Edward. A part of the garrison
had been pursued by a detachment of the enemy as far as Fort
Anne in that neighborhood, where the latter had been repulsed;
as to St. Clair himself and the main part of his forces, they had
thrown themselves into the forest, and nothing was known what
had become of them!
“I am here,” writes Schuyler, “at the head of a handful of
97men, not above fifteen hundred, with little ammunition, not above
five rounds to a man, having neither balls, nor lead to make any.
The country is in the deepest consternation; no carriages to
remove the stores from Fort George, which I expect every
moment to hear is attacked; and what adds to my distress is,
that a report prevails that I had given orders for the evacuation
of Ticonderoga.”
Washington was totally at a loss to account for St. Clair’s movement.
To abandon a fortress which he had recently pronounced so defensible;
and to abandon it apparently without firing a gun!
and then the strange uncertainty as to his subsequent fortunes,
and the whereabouts of himself and the main body of his troops!
“The affair,” writes Washington, “is so mysterious that it baffles
even conjecture.”
His first attention was to supply the wants of General Schuyler.
An express was sent to Springfield for musket cartridges,
gunpowder, lead, and cartridge papers. Ten pieces of artillery
with harness and proper officers were to be forwarded from Peekskill,
as well as intrenching tools. Of tents he had none to
furnish, neither could heavy cannon be spared from the defence
of the Highlands.
Six hundred recruits, on their march from Massachusetts to
Peekskill, were ordered to repair to the reinforcement of Schuyler;
this was all the force that Washington could venture at this
moment to send to his aid; but this addition to his troops, supposing
those under St. Clair should have come in, and any
number of militia have turned out, would probably form an army
equal, if not superior, to that said to be under Burgoyne.
Beside, it was Washington’s idea that the latter would suspend
his operations until General Howe should make a movement in
98concert. Supposing that movement would be an immediate
attempt against the Highlands, he ordered Sullivan with his
division to Peekskill to reinforce General Putnam. At the same
time he advanced with his main army to Pompton, and thence to
the Clove, a rugged defile through the Highlands on the west side
of the Hudson. Here he encamped within eighteen miles of the
river, to watch, and be at hand to oppose the designs of Sir
William Howe, whatever might be their direction.
On the morning of the 14th came another letter from Schuyler,
dated Fort Edward, July 10th. He had that morning
received the first tidings of St. Clair and his missing troops, and
of their being fifty miles east of him.
Washington hailed the intelligence with that hopeful spirit
which improved every ray of light in the darkest moments. “I
am happy to hear,” writes he, “that General St. Clair and his
army are not in the hands of the enemy. I really feared they
had become prisoners. The evacuation of Ticonderoga and Mount
Independence is an event of chagrin and surprise not apprehended,
nor within the compass of my reasoning. * * *
This stroke is severe indeed, and has distressed us much. But,
notwithstanding things at present have a dark and gloomy aspect,
I hope a spirited opposition will check the progress of General
Burgoyne’s army, and that the confidence derived from his
success, will hurry him into measures that will in their consequences
be favorable to us. We should never despair. Our
situation before has been unpromising and has changed for the
better, so I trust it will again. If new difficulties arise, we
must only put forth new exertions, and proportion our efforts to
the exigency of the times.”
His spirit of candor and moderation is evinced in another
99letter. “I will not condemn or even pass censure upon any officer
unheard, but I think it a duty which General St. Clair owes to
his own character, to insist upon an opportunity of giving his
reasons for his sudden evacuation of a post, which, but a few
days before, he, by his own letters, thought tenable, at least for a
while. People at a distance are apt to form wrong conjectures,
and if General St. Clair has good reasons for the step he has
taken, I think the sooner he justifies himself the better. I have
mentioned these matters, because he may not know that his conduct
is looked upon as very unaccountable by all ranks of people
in this part of the country. If he is reprehensible, the public
have an undoubted right to call for that justice which is due from
an officer, who betrays or gives up his post in an unwarrantable
manner.”[39]
Having stated the various measures adopted by Washington
for the aid of the Northern army at this critical juncture, we will
leave him at his encampment in the Clove, anxiously watching
the movements of the fleet and the lower army, while we turn to
the north, to explain the mysterious retreat of General St. Clair.
CHAPTER X.
100
PARTICULARS OF THE EVACUATION—INDIAN SCOUTS IN THE VICINITY OF THE
FORT—OUTPOSTS ABANDONED BY ST. CLAIR—BURGOYNE SECURES MOUNT
HOPE—INVESTS THE FORTRESS—SEIZES AND OCCUPIES SUGAR HILL—THE
FORTS OVERLOOKED AND IN IMMINENT PERIL—DETERMINATION TO EVACUATE—PLAN
OF RETREAT—PART OF THE GARRISON DEPART FOR SKENESBOROUGH
IN THE FLOTILLA—ST. CLAIR CROSSES WITH THE REST TO FORT
INDEPENDENCE—A CONFLAGRATION REVEALS HIS RETREAT—THE BRITISH
CAMP AROUSED—FRASER PURSUES ST. CLAIR—BURGOYNE WITH HIS SQUADRON
MAKES AFTER THE FLOTILLA—PART OF THE FUGITIVES OVERTAKEN—FLIGHT
OF THE REMAINDER TO FORT ANNE—SKIRMISH OF COLONEL
LONG—RETREAT TO FORT EDWARD—ST. CLAIR AT CASTLETON—ATTACK OF
HIS REAR-GUARD—FALL OF COLONEL FRANCIS—DESERTION OF COLONEL
HALE—ST. CLAIR REACHES FORT EDWARD—CONSTERNATION OF THE COUNTRY—EXULTATION
OF THE BRITISH.
In the accounts given in the preceding chapter of the approach
of Burgoyne to Ticonderoga, it was stated that he had encamped
four miles north of the fortress, and intrenched himself. On the
2d of July, Indian scouts made their appearance in the vicinity
of a block-house and some outworks about the strait or channel
leading to Lake George. As General St. Clair did not think the
garrison sufficient to defend all the outposts, these works with
some adjacent saw-mills were set on fire and abandoned. The
extreme left of Ticonderoga was weak, and might easily be
turned; a post had therefore been established in the preceding
101year, nearly half a mile in advance of the old French lines, on an
eminence to the north of them. General St. Clair, through
singular remissness, had neglected to secure it. Burgoyne soon
discovered this neglect, and hastened to detach Generals Phillips
and Fraser with a body of infantry and light artillery, to take
possession of this post. They did so without opposition. Heavy
guns were mounted upon it; Fraser’s whole corps was stationed
there; the post commanded the communication by land and
water with Lake George, so as to cut off all supplies from that
quarter. In fact, such were the advantages expected from this
post, thus neglected by St. Clair, that the British gave it the
significant name of Mount Hope.
The enemy now proceeded gradually to invest Ticonderoga.
A line of troops was drawn from the western part of Mount
Hope round to Three Mile Point, where General Fraser was
posted with the advance guard, while General Riedesel encamped
with the German reserve in a parallel line, on the opposite side
of Lake Champlain, at the foot of Mount Independence. For
two days the enemy occupied themselves in making their advances
and securing these positions, regardless of a cannonade
kept up by the American batteries.
St. Clair began to apprehend that a regular siege was intended,
which would be more difficult to withstand than a direct assault;
he kept up a resolute aspect, however, and went about among his
troops, encouraging them with the hope of a successful resistance,
but enjoining incessant vigilance, and punctual attendance at the
alarm posts at morning and evening roll-call.
With all the pains and expense lavished by the Americans
to render these works impregnable, they had strangely neglected
the master key by which they were all commanded. This was
102Sugar Hill, a rugged height, the termination of a mountain ridge
which separates Lake Champlain from Lake George. It stood
to the south of Ticonderoga, beyond the narrow channel which
connected the two lakes, and rose precipitously from the waters
of Champlain to the height of six hundred feet. It had been
pronounced by the Americans too distant to be dangerous. Colonel
Trumbull, some time an aide-de-camp to Washington, and
subsequently an adjutant, had proved the contrary in the preceding
year, by throwing a shot from a six-pounder in the fort
nearly to the summit. It was then pronounced inaccessible to an
enemy. This Trumbull had likewise proved to be an error, by
clambering with Arnold and Wayne to the top, whence they perceived
that a practicable road for artillery might easily and
readily be made. Trumbull had insisted that this was the true
point for the fort, commanding the neighboring heights, the narrow
parts of both lakes, and the communication between. A
small, but strong fort here, with twenty-five heavy guns and five
hundred men, would be as efficient as one hundred guns and ten
thousand men on the extensive works of Ticonderoga.[40] His suggestions
were disregarded. Their wisdom was now to be proved.
The British General Phillips, on taking his position, had regarded
the hill with a practised eye. He caused it to be reconnoitred
by a skilful engineer. The report was, that it overlooked,
and had the entire command of Fort Ticonderoga and
Fort Independence; being about fourteen hundred yards from the
former, and fifteen hundred from the latter; that the ground could
be levelled for cannon, and a road cut up the defiles of the
mountain in four and twenty hours.
103Measures were instantly taken to plant a battery on that
height. While the American garrisons were entirely engaged in
a different direction, cannonading Mount Hope and the British
lines without material effect, and without provoking a reply; the
British troops were busy throughout the day and night cutting a
road through rocks and trees and up rugged defiles. Guns, ammunition,
and stores, all were carried up the hill in the night;
the cannon were hauled up from tree to tree, and before morning
the ground was levelled for the battery on which they were to be
mounted. To this work, thus achieved by a coup de main, they
gave the name of Fort Defiance.
On the fifth of July, to their astonishment and consternation,
the garrison beheld a legion of red coats on the summit of this
hill, constructing works which must soon lay the fortress at their
mercy.
In this sudden and appalling emergency, General St. Clair
called a council of war. What was to be done? The batteries
from this new fort would probably be open the next day: by that
time Ticonderoga might be completely invested, and the whole
garrison exposed to capture. They had not force sufficient for
one half the works, and General Schuyler, supposed to be at
Albany, could afford them no relief. The danger was imminent;
delay might prove fatal. It was unanimously determined to
evacuate both Ticonderoga and Mount Independence that very
night, and retreat to Skenesborough (now Whitehall), at the
upper part of the lake, about thirty miles distant, where there
was a stockaded fort. The main body of the army, led by General
St. Clair, were to cross to Mount Independence and push
for Skenesborough by land, taking a circuitous route through the
woods on the east side of the lake, by the way of Castleton.
104The cannon, stores and provisions, together with the wounded
and the women, were to be embarked on board of two hundred
bateaux, and conducted to the upper extremity of the lake, by
Colonel Long with six hundred men; two hundred of whom in
five armed galleys were to form a rear-guard.
It was now three o’clock in the afternoon; yet all the preparations
were to be made for the coming night, and that with
as little bustle and movement as possible; for they were overlooked
by Fort Defiance, and their intentions might be suspected.
Every thing, therefore, was done quietly, but alertly; in the
mean time, to amuse the enemy, a cannonade was kept up every
half hour toward the new battery on the hill. As soon as the
evening closed, and their movements could not be discovered,
they began in all haste to load the boats. Such of the cannon
as could not be taken were ordered to be spiked. It would not
do to knock off their trunnions, lest the noise should awaken suspicions.
In the hurry several were left uninjured. The lights
in the garrison being previously extinguished, their tents were
struck and put on board of the boats, and the women and the
sick embarked. Every thing was conducted with such silence
and address, that, although it was a moonlight night, the flotilla
departed undiscovered; and was soon under the shadows of
mountains and overhanging forests.
The retreat by land was not conducted with equal discretion
and mystery. General St. Clair had crossed over the bridge to
the Vermont side of the lake by three o’clock in the morning,
and set forward with his advance through the woods toward
Hubbardton; but, before the rear-guard under Colonel Francis
got in motion, the house at Fort Independence, which had been
occupied by the French General de Fermois, was set on fire—by
105his orders, it is said, though we are loth to charge him with such
indiscretion; such gross and wanton violation of the plan of retreat.
The consequences were disastrous. The British sentries
at Mount Hope were astonished by a conflagration suddenly lighting
up Mount Independence, and revealing the American troops
in full retreat; for the rear-guard, disconcerted by this sudden
exposure, pressed forward for the woods in the utmost haste and
confusion.
The drums beat to arms in the British camp. Alarm guns
were fired from Mount Hope: General Fraser dashed into Ticonderoga
with his pickets, giving orders for his brigade to arm in
all haste and follow. By daybreak he had hoisted the British
flag over the deserted fortress; before sunrise he had passed the
bridge, and was in full pursuit of the American rear-guard.
Burgoyne was roused from his morning slumbers on board of the
frigate Royal George, by the alarm guns from Fort Hope, and a
message from General Fraser, announcing the double retreat of
the Americans by land and water. From the quarter-deck of
the frigate he soon had confirmation of the news. The British
colors were flying on Fort Ticonderoga, and Fraser’s troops were
glittering on the opposite shore.
Burgoyne’s measures were prompt. General Riedesel was
ordered to follow and support Fraser with a part of the German
troops; garrisons were thrown into Ticonderoga and Mount
Independence; the main part of the army was embarked on
board of the frigates and gunboats; the floating bridge with its
boom and chain, which had cost months to construct, was broken
through by nine o’clock; when Burgoyne set out with his squadron
in pursuit of the flotilla.
We left the latter making its retreat on the preceding evening
106towards Skenesborough. The lake above Ticonderoga becomes
so narrow that, in those times, it was frequently called
South River. Its beautiful waters wound among mountains covered
with primeval forests. The bateaux, deeply laden, made
their way slowly in a lengthened line; sometimes under the shadows
of the mountains, sometimes in the gleam of moonlight.
The rear-guard of armed galleys followed at wary distance. No
immediate pursuit, however, was apprehended. The floating
bridge was considered an effectual impediment to the enemy’s
fleet. Gayety, therefore, prevailed among the fugitives. They
exulted in the secrecy and dexterity with which they had managed
their retreat, and amused themselves with the idea of what
would be the astonishment of the enemy at daybreak. The officers
regaled merrily on the stores saved from Ticonderoga, and
knocking off the necks of bottles of wine, drank a pleasant reveille
to General Burgoyne.
About three o’clock in the afternoon of the succeeding day,
the heavily laden bateaux arrived at Skenesborough. The disembarkation
had scarcely commenced when the thundering of artillery
was heard from below. Could the enemy be at hand? It
was even so. The British gunboats having pushed on in advance
of the frigates, had overtaken and were firing upon the galleys.
The latter defended themselves for a while, but at length two
struck, and three were blown up. The fugitives from them
brought word that the British ships not being able to come up,
troops and Indians were landing from them and scrambling up
the hills; intending to get in the rear of the fort and cut off all
retreat.
All now was consternation and confusion. The bateaux, the
storehouses, the fort, the mill were all set on fire, and a general
107flight took place toward Fort Anne, about twelve miles distant.
Some made their way in boats up Wood Creek, a winding stream.
The main body under Colonel Long, retreated by a narrow defile
cut through the woods; harassed all night by alarms that the
Indians were close in pursuit. Both parties reached Fort Anne
by daybreak. It was a small picketed fort, near the junction of
Wood Creek and East Creek, about sixteen miles from Fort
Edward. General Schuyler arrived at the latter place on the
following day. The number of troops with him was inconsiderable,
but, hearing of Colonel Long’s situation, he immediately
sent him a small reinforcement, with provisions and ammunition,
and urged him to maintain his post resolutely.
On the same day Colonel Long’s scouts brought in word that
there were British red coats approaching. They were in fact a
regiment under Lieutenant-colonel Hill, detached from Skenesborough
by Burgoyne in pursuit of the fugitives. Long sallied
forth to meet them; posting himself at a rocky defile, where there
was a narrow pathway along the border of Wood Creek. As the
enemy advanced he opened a heavy fire upon them in front, while
a part of his troops crossing and recrossing the creek, and availing
themselves of their knowledge of the ground, kept up a shifting
attack from the woods in flank and rear. Apprehensive of being
surrounded, the British took post upon a high hill to their right,
where they were warmly besieged for nearly two hours, and,
according to their own account, would certainly have been forced,
had not some of their Indian allies arrived and set up the much-dreaded
war-whoop. It was answered with three cheers by the
British upon the hill. This changed the fortune of the day.
The Americans had nearly expended their ammunition, and had
not enough left to cope with this new enemy. They retreated,
108therefore, to Fort Anne, carrying with them a number of prisoners,
among whom were a captain and surgeon. Supposing the troops
under Colonel Hill an advance guard of Burgoyne’s army, they
set fire to the fort and pushed on to fort Edward; where they
gave the alarm that the main force of the enemy was close after
them, and that no one knew what had become of General St.
Clair and the troops who had retreated with him. We shall now
clear up the mystery of his movements.
His retreat through the woods from Mount Independence
continued the first day until night, when he arrived at Castleton,
thirty miles from Ticonderoga. His rear-guard halted about six
miles short, at Hubbardton, to await the arrival of stragglers. It
was composed of three regiments, under Colonels Seth Warner,
Francis and Hale; in all about thirteen hundred men.
Early the next morning, a sultry morning of July, while they
were taking their breakfast, they were startled by the report
of fire-arms. Their sentries had discharged their muskets, and
came running in with word that the enemy were at hand.
It was General Fraser, with his advance of eight hundred and
fifty men, who had pressed forward in the latter part of the night,
and now attacked the Americans with great spirit, notwithstanding
their superiority in numbers; in fact, he expected to be
promptly reinforced by Riedesel and his Germans. The Americans
met the British with great spirit; but at the very commencement
of the action, Colonel Hale, with a detachment placed under
his command to protect the rear, gave way, leaving Warner and
Francis with but seven hundred men to bear the brunt of the
battle. These posted themselves behind logs and trees in ‘backwood’
style, whence they kept up a destructive fire, and were
evidently gaining the advantage, when General Riedesel came
109pressing into the action with his German troops; drums beating
and colors flying. There was now an impetuous charge with the
bayonet. Colonel Francis was among the first who fell, gallantly
fighting at the head of his men. The Americans, thinking the
whole German force upon them, gave way and fled, leaving the
ground covered with their dead and wounded. Many others who
had been wounded perished in the woods, where they had taken
refuge. Their whole loss in killed, wounded and taken, was upwards
of three hundred; that of the enemy one hundred and
eighty-three. Several officers were lost on both sides. Among
those wounded of the British was Major Ackland of the grenadiers,
of whose further fortunes in the war we shall have to speak
hereafter.
The noise of the firing when the action commenced had
reached General St. Clair at Castleton. He immediately sent
orders to two militia regiments which were in his rear, and within
two miles of the battle ground, to hasten to the assistance of his
rear-guard. They refused to obey, and hurried forward to Castleton.
At this juncture St. Clair received information of Burgoyne’s
arrival at Skenesborough, and the destruction of the
American works there: fearing to be intercepted at Fort Anne,
he immediately changed his route, struck into the woods on his
left, and directed his march to Rutland, leaving word for Warner
to follow him. The latter overtook him two days afterwards,
with his shattered force reduced to ninety men. As to Colonel
Hale, who had pressed towards Castleton at the beginning of the
action, he and his men were overtaken the same day by the enemy,
and the whole party captured, without making any fight. It
has been alleged in his excuse, with apparent justice, that he and a
large portion of his men were in feeble health, and unfit for
110action; for his own part, he died while yet a prisoner, and never
had the opportunity which he sought, to vindicate himself before
a court-martial.
On the 12th St. Clair reached Fort Edward, his troops haggard
and exhausted by their long retreat through the woods.
Such is the story of the catastrophe at Fort Ticonderoga, which
caused so much surprise and concern to Washington, and of the
seven days’ mysterious disappearance of St. Clair, which kept
every one in the most painful suspense.
The loss of artillery, ammunition, provisions and stores, in
consequence of the evacuation of these northern posts, was prodigious;
but the worst effect was the consternation spread
throughout the country. A panic prevailed at Albany, the
people running about as if distracted, sending off their goods and
furniture.[41] The great barriers of the North, it was said, were
broken through, and there was nothing to check the triumphant
career of the enemy.
The invading army, both officers and men, according to a
British writer of the time, “were highly elated with their fortune,
and deemed that and their prowess to be irresistible. They
regarded their enemy with the greatest contempt, and considered
their own toils to be nearly at an end, and Albany already in
their hands.”
In England too, according to the same author, the joy and
exultation were extreme; not only at court, but with all those who
hoped or wished the unqualified subjugation and unconditional
submission of the colonies. “The loss in reputation was greater
to the Americans,” adds he, “and capable of more fatal consequences,
111than that of ground, of posts, of artillery, or of men.
All the contemptuous and most degrading charges which had
been made by their enemies, of their wanting the resolution and
abilities of men, even in defence of what was dear to them, were
now repeated and believed.” * * * “It was not difficult to
diffuse an opinion that the war, in effect, was over, and that any
further resistance would render the terms of their submission
worse. Such,” he concludes, “were some of the immediate
effects of the loss of those grand keys of North America, Ticonderoga
and the lakes.”[42]
CHAPTER XI.
112
CAPTURE OF GENERAL PRESCOTT—PROFFERED IN EXCHANGE FOR LEE—REINFORCEMENTS
TO SCHUYLER—ARNOLD SENT TO THE NORTH—EASTERN
MILITIA TO REPAIR TO SARATOGA—FURTHER REINFORCEMENTS—GENERALS
LINCOLN AND ARNOLD RECOMMENDED FOR PARTICULAR SERVICES—WASHINGTON’S
MEASURES AND SUGGESTIONS FOR THE NORTHERN CAMPAIGN—BRITISH
FLEET PUTS TO SEA—CONJECTURES AS TO ITS DESTINATION—A
FEIGNED LETTER—APPEARANCE AND DISAPPEARANCE OF THE FLEET—ORDERS
AND COUNTER ORDERS OF WASHINGTON—ENCAMPS AT GERMANTOWN—ANXIETY
FOR THE SECURITY OF THE HIGHLANDS—GEORGE CLINTON
ON GUARD—CALL ON CONNECTICUT.
A spirited exploit to the eastward was performed during the
prevalence of adverse news from the North. General Prescott
had command of the British forces in Rhode Island. His harsh
treatment of Colonel Ethan Allen, and his haughty and arrogant
conduct on various occasions, had rendered him peculiarly odious
to the Americans. Lieutenant-colonel Barton, who was stationed
with a force of Rhode Island militia on the mainland, received
word that Prescott was quartered at a country house near the
western shore of the island, about four miles from Newport,
totally unconscious of danger, though in a very exposed situation.
He determined, if possible, to surprise and capture him. Forty
resolute men joined him in the enterprise. Embarking at night
113in two boats at Warwick Neck, they pulled quietly across the
bay with muffled oars, undiscovered by the ships of war and
guard boats; landed in silence; eluded the vigilance of the guard
stationed near the house; captured the sentry at the door, and
surprised the general in his bed. His aide-de-camp leaped from
the window, but was likewise taken. Colonel Barton returned
with equal silence and address, and arrived safe at Warwick with
his prisoners. A sword was voted to him by Congress, and he
received a colonel’s commission in the regular army.
Washington hailed the capture of Prescott as a peculiarly
fortunate circumstance, furnishing him with an equivalent for
General Lee. He accordingly wrote to Sir William Howe, proposing
the exchange. “This proposition,” writes he, “being agreeable
to the letter and spirit of the agreement subsisting between
us, will, I hope, have your approbation. I am the more induced
to expect it, as it will not only remove one ground of controversy
between us, but in its consequences effect the exchanges of
Lieutenant-colonel Campbell and the Hessian officers, for a like
number of ours of equal rank in your possession.”
No immediate reply was received to this letter, Sir William
Howe being at sea; in the mean time Prescott remained in durance.
“I would have him genteelly accommodated, but strongly
guarded,” writes Washington. “I would not admit him to parole,
as General Howe has not thought proper to grant General
Lee that indulgence.”[43]
Washington continued his anxious exertions to counteract
the operations of the enemy; forwarding artillery and ammunition
to Schuyler, with all the camp furniture that could be
114spared from his own encampment and from Peekskill. A part
of Nixon’s brigade was all the reinforcement he could afford in
his present situation. “To weaken this army more than is prudent,”
writes he, “would perhaps bring destruction upon it, and I
look upon the keeping it upon a respectable footing as the only
means of preventing a junction of Howe’s and Burgoyne’s armies,
which, if effected, may have the most fatal consequences.”
Schuyler had earnestly desired the assistance of an active
officer well acquainted with the country. Washington sent him
Arnold. “I need not,” writes he, “enlarge upon his well-known
activity, conduct and bravery. The proofs he has given of all
these have gained him the confidence of the public and of the
army, the Eastern troops in particular.”
The question of rank, about which Arnold was so tenacious,
was yet unsettled, and though, had his promotion been regular,
he would have been superior in command to General St. Clair,
he assured Washington that, on the present occasion, his claim
should create no dispute.
Schuyler, in the mean time, aided by Kosciuszko the Pole,
who was engineer in his department, had selected two positions on
Moses Creek, four miles below Fort Edward; where the troops
which had retreated from Ticonderoga, and part of the militia,
were throwing up works.
To impede the advance of the enemy, he had caused trees to
be felled into Wood Creek, so as to render it unnavigable, and the
roads between Fort Edward and Fort Anne to be broken up; the
cattle in that direction to be brought away, and the forage destroyed.
He had drawn off the garrison from Fort George, who
left the buildings in flames. “Strengthened by that garrison,
who are in good health,” writes he, “and if the militia, who are
115here, or an equal number, can be prevailed on to stay, and the
enemy give me a few days more, which I think they will be
obliged to do, I shall not be apprehensive that they will be able
to force the posts I am about to occupy.”
Washington cheered on his faithful coadjutor. His reply to
Schuyler (July 22d) was full of that confident hope, founded on
sagacious forecast, with which he was prone to animate his generals
in times of doubt and difficulty. “Though our affairs for
some days past have worn a dark and gloomy aspect, I yet look
forward to a fortunate and happy change. I trust General Burgoyne’s
army will meet sooner or later an effectual check, and, as
I suggested before, that the success he has had will precipitate
his ruin. From your accounts, he appears to be pursuing that
line of conduct, which, of all others, is most favorable to us; I
mean acting in detachment. This conduct will certainly give
room for enterprise on our part, and expose his parties to great
hazard. Could we be so happy as to cut one of them off, supposing
it should not exceed four, five, or six hundred men, it
would inspirit the people, and do away much of their present
anxiety. In such an event they would lose sight of past misfortunes,
and, urged at the same time by a regard to their own
security, they would fly to arms and afford every aid in their
power.”
While he thus suggested bold enterprises, he cautioned Schuyler
not to repose too much confidence in the works he was projecting,
so as to collect in them a large quantity of stores. “I
begin to consider lines as a kind of trap;” writes he, “and not
to answer the valuable purposes expected from them, unless they
are in passes which cannot be avoided by the enemy.”
In circulars addressed to the brigadier-generals of militia in
116the western parts of Massachusetts and Connecticut, he warned
them that the evacuation of Ticonderoga had opened a door by
which the enemy, unless vigorously opposed, might penetrate the
northern part of the State of New York, and the western parts
of New Hampshire and Massachusetts, and, forming a junction
with General Howe, cut off the communication between the
Eastern and Northern States. “It cannot be supposed,” adds he,
“that the small number of Continental troops assembled at Fort
Edward, is alone sufficient to check the progress of the enemy.
To the militia, therefore, must we look for support in this time
of trial; and I trust that you will immediately upon receipt of
this, if you have not done it already, march with at least one
third of the militia under your command, and rendezvous at
Saratoga, unless directed to some other place by General Schuyler
or General Arnold.”
Washington now ordered that all the vessels and river craft,
not required at Albany, should be sent down to New Windsor
and Fishkill, and kept in readiness; for he knew not how soon
the movements of General Howe might render it suddenly
necessary to transport part of his forces up the Hudson.
Further letters from Schuyler urged the increasing exigencies
of his situation. It was harvest time. The militia, impatient at
being detained from their rural labors, were leaving him in great
numbers. In a council of general officers, it had been thought
advisable to give leave of absence to half, lest the whole should
depart. He feared those who remained would do so but a few
days. The enemy were steadily employed cutting a road toward
him from Skenesborough. From the number of horse they were
reported to have, and to expect, they might intend to bring their
provisions on horseback. If so, they would be able to move with
117expedition. In this position of affairs, he urged to be reinforced
as speedily as possible.
Washington, in reply, informed him that he had ordered a
further reinforcement of General Glover’s brigade, which was all
he could possibly furnish in his own exigencies. He trusted
affairs with Schuyler would soon wear a more smiling aspect, that
the Eastern States, who were so deeply concerned in the matter,
would exert themselves, by effectual succors, to enable him to
check the progress of the enemy, and repel a danger by which
they were immediately threatened. From the information he had
received, he supposed the force of the enemy to be little more
than five thousand. “They seem,” said he, “to be unprovided
with waggons to transport the immense quantity of baggage and
warlike apparatus, without which they cannot pretend to penetrate
the country. You mention their having a great number of
horses, but they must nevertheless require a considerable number
of waggons, as there are many things which cannot be transported
on horses. They can never think of advancing without securing
their rear, and the force with which they can act against you, will
be greatly reduced by detachments necessary for that purpose;
and as they have to cut out their passage, and to remove the
impediments you have thrown in their way, before they can proceed,
this circumstance, with the encumbrance they must feel in
their baggage, stores, &c., will inevitably retard their march, and
give you leisure and opportunity to prepare a good reception for
them. * * * * I have directed General Lincoln to repair
to you as speedily as the state of his health, which is not very
perfect, will permit; this gentleman has always supported the
character of a judicious, brave, active officer, and he is exceedingly
popular in the State of Massachusetts, to which he belongs
118he will have a degree of influence over the militia which cannot
fail of being highly advantageous. I have intended him more
particularly for the command of the militia, and I promise myself
it will have a powerful tendency to make them turn out with
more cheerfulness, and to inspire them with perseverance to
remain in the field, and with fortitude and spirit to do their duty
while in it.”[44]
Washington highly approved of a measure suggested by
Schuyler, of stationing a body of troops somewhere about the
Hampshire Grants (Vermont), so as to be in the rear or on the
flank of Burgoyne, should he advance. It would make the latter,
he said, very circumspect in his advances, if it did not entirely
prevent them. It would keep him in continual anxiety for his
rear, and oblige him to leave the posts behind him much stronger
than he would otherwise do. He advised that General Lincoln
should have the command of the corps thus posted, “as no person
could be more proper for it.”
He recommended, moreover, that in case the enemy should
make any formidable movement in the neighborhood of Fort
Schuyler (Stanwix), on the Mohawk River, General Arnold, or
some other sensible, spirited officer, should be sent to take charge
of that post, keep up the spirits of the inhabitants, and cultivate
and improve the favorable disposition of the Indians.
The reader will find in the sequel what a propitious effect all
these measures had upon the fortunes of the Northern campaign,
and with what admirable foresight Washington calculated all its
chances. Due credit must also be given to the sagacious counsels
and executive energy of Schuyler; who suggested some of the
119best moves in the campaign, and carried them vigorously into
action. Never was Washington more ably and loyally seconded
by any of his generals.
But now the attention of the commander-in-chief is called to
the seaboard. On the 23d of July, the fleet, so long the object
of watchful solicitude, actually put to sea. The force embarked,
according to subsequent accounts, consisted of thirty-six British
and Hessian battalions, including the light-infantry and grenadiers,
with a powerful artillery; a New York corps of provincials,
or royalists, called the Queen’s Rangers, and a regiment of light-horse;
between fifteen and eighteen thousand men in all. The
force left with General Sir Henry Clinton for the protection of
New York, consisted of seventeen battalions, a regiment of light-horse,
and the remainder of the provincial corps.[45]
The destination of the fleet was still a matter of conjecture.
Just after it had sailed, a young man presented himself at one of
General Putnam’s outposts. He had been a prisoner in New
York, he said, but had received his liberty and a large reward on
undertaking to be the bearer of a letter from General Howe to
Burgoyne. This letter his feelings of patriotism prompted him
to deliver up to General Putnam. The letter was immediately
transmitted by the general to Washington. It was in the handwriting
of Howe, and bore his signature. In it he informed Burgoyne,
that, instead of any designs up the Hudson, he was bound
to the east against Boston. “If,” said he, “according to my
expectations, we may succeed in getting possession of it, I shall,
without loss of time, proceed to co-operate with you in the defeat
of the rebel army opposed to you. Clinton is sufficiently strong
120to amuse Washington and Putnam. I am now making demonstrations
to the southward, which I think will have the full effect in
carrying our plan into execution.”
Washington at once pronounced the letter a feint. “No
stronger proof could be given,” said he, “that Howe is not going
to the eastward. The letter was evidently intended to fall into
our hands. If there were not too great a risk of the dispersion of
their fleet, I should think their putting to sea a mere manœuvre
to deceive, and the North River still their object. I am persuaded,
more than ever, that Philadelphia is the place of destination.”
He now set out with his army for the Delaware, ordering
Sullivan and Stirling with their divisions to cross the Hudson
from Peekskill, and proceed towards Philadelphia. Every movement
and order showed his doubt and perplexity, and the circumspection
with which he had to proceed. On the 30th, he writes
from Coryell’s Ferry, about thirty miles from Philadelphia, to
General Gates, who was in that city: “As we are yet uncertain as
to the real destination of the enemy, though the Delaware seems the
most probable, I have thought it prudent to halt the army at this
place, Howell’s Ferry, and Trenton, at least till the fleet actually
enters the bay and puts the matter beyond a doubt. From hence
we can be on the proper ground to oppose them before they can
possibly make their arrangements and dispositions for an attack. * * * That the post in the Highlands may not be left too
much exposed, I have ordered General Sullivan’s division to halt
at Morristown, whence it will march southward if there should
be occasion, or northward upon the first advice that the enemy
should be throwing any force up the North River. General
Howe’s in a manner abandoning General Burgoyne, is so unaccountable
121a matter, that, till I am fully assured it is so, I cannot
help casting my eyes continually behind me. As I shall pay
no regard to any flying reports of the appearance of the fleet, I
shall expect an account of it from you, the moment you have
ascertained it to your satisfaction.”
On the 31st, he was informed that the enemy’s fleet of two
hundred and twenty-eight sail, had arrived the day previous at
the Capes of Delaware. He instantly wrote to Putnam to hurry
on two brigades, which had crossed the river, and to let Schuyler
and the commanders in the Eastern States know that they had
nothing to fear from Howe, and might bend all their forces, Continental
and militia, against Burgoyne. In the mean time he
moved his camp to Germantown, about six miles from Philadelphia,
to be at hand for the defence of that city.
The very next day came word, by express, that the fleet had
again sailed out of the Capes, and apparently shaped its course
eastward. “This surprising event gives me the greatest anxiety,”
writes he to Putnam (Aug. 1), “and unless every possible
exertion is made, may be productive of the happiest consequences
to the enemy and the most injurious to us. * * * The importance
of preventing Mr. Howe’s getting possession of the
Highlands by a coup de main, is infinite to America; and, in the
present situation of things, every effort that can be thought of
must be used. The probability of his going to the eastward is
exceedingly small, and the ill effects that might attend such a
step inconsiderable, in comparison with those that would inevitably
attend a successful stroke on the Highlands.”
Under this impression Washington sent orders to Sullivan to
hasten back with his division and the two brigades which had
recently left Peekskill and to recross the Hudson to that post as
122speedily as possible, intending to forward the rest of the army
with all the expedition in his power. He wrote, also, to General
George Clinton, to reinforce Putnam with as many of the New
York militia as could be collected. Clinton, be it observed, had
just been installed Governor of the State of New York; the first
person elevated to that office under the Constitution. He still
continued in actual command of the militia of the State, and it
was with great satisfaction that Washington subsequently learnt
he had determined to resume the command of Fort Montgomery
in the Highlands: “There cannot be a more proper man,” writes
he, “on every account.”
Washington, moreover, requested Putnam to send an express
to Governor Trumbull, urging assistance from the militia of his
State without a moment’s loss of time. “Connecticut cannot be
in more danger through any channel than this, and every motive
of its own interest and the general good demands its utmost endeavors
to give you effectual assistance. Governor Trumbull
will, I trust, be sensible of this.”
And here we take occasion to observe, that there could be no
surer reliance for aid in time of danger than the patriotism of
Governor Trumbull; nor were there men more ready to obey a
sudden appeal to arms than the yeomanry of Connecticut; however
much their hearts might subsequently yearn toward the farms
and firesides they had so promptly abandoned. No portion of
the Union was more severely tasked, throughout the Revolution,
for military services; and Washington avowed, when the great
struggle was over, that, “if all the States had done their duty
as well as the little State of Connecticut, the war would have
been ended long ago.”[46]
CHAPTER XII
123
GATES ON THE ALERT FOR A COMMAND—SCHUYLER UNDERMINED IN CONGRESS—PUT
ON HIS GUARD—COURTS A SCRUTINY BUT NOT BEFORE AN EXPECTED
ENGAGEMENT—SUMMONED WITH ST. CLAIR TO HEAD-QUARTERS—GATES
APPOINTED TO THE NORTHERN DEPARTMENT—WASHINGTON’S SPECULATIONS
ON THE SUCCESSES OF BURGOYNE—ILL-JUDGED MEDDLINGS OF CONGRESS
WITH THE COMMISSARIAT—COLONEL TRUMBULL RESIGNS IN CONSEQUENCE.
We have cited in a preceding page a letter from Washington to
Gates at Philadelphia, requiring his vigilant attention to the movements
of the enemy’s fleet; that ambitious officer, however, was
engrossed at the time by matters more important to his individual
interests. The command of the Northern department seemed
again within his reach. The evacuation of Ticonderoga had been
imputed by many either to cowardice or treachery on the part of
General St. Clair, and the enemies of Schuyler had, for some
time past, been endeavoring to involve him in the disgrace of the
transaction. It is true he was absent from the fortress at the time,
zealously engaged, as we have shown, in procuring and forwarding
reinforcements and supplies; but it was alleged that the fort
had been evacuated by his order, and that, while there, he had
made such dispositions as plainly indicated an intention to deliver
it to the enemy. In the eagerness to excite popular feeling against
him, old slanders were revived, and the failure of the invasion
124of Canada, and all the subsequent disasters in that quarter, were
again laid to his charge as commanding general of the Northern
department. “In short,” writes Schuyler in one of his letters,
“every art is made use of to destroy that confidence which it is
so essential the army should have in its general officers, and this
too by people pretending to be friends to the country.”[47]
These charges, which for some time existed merely in popular
clamor, had recently been taken up in Congress, and a strong
demonstration had been made against him by some of the New
England delegates. “Your enemies in this quarter,” writes his
friend, the Hon. William Duer (July 29th); “are leaving no means
unessayed to blast your character, and to impute to your appointment
in that department a loss which, rightly investigated, can be
imputed to very different causes.
“Be not suprised if you should be desired to attend Congress,
to give an account of the loss of Ticonderoga. With respect
to the result of the inquiry I am under no apprehensions.
Like gold tried in the fire, I trust that you, my dear friend, will
be found more pure and bright than ever. * * * * * *
From the nature of your department, and other unavoidable
causes, you have not had an opportunity, during the course of
this war, of evincing that spirit which I and your more intimate
friends know you to possess; of this circumstance prejudice takes
a cruel advantage, and malice lends an easy ear to her dictates.
A hint on this subject is sufficient. You will not, I am sure, see
this place till your conduct gives the lie to this insinuation, as it
has done before to every other which your enemies have so industriously
circulated.”[48]
125Schuyler, in reply, expressed the most ardent wish that Congress
would order him to attend and give an account of his conduct.
He wished his friends to push for the closest scrutiny,
confident that it would redound to his honor. “I would not,
however, wish the scrutiny to take place immediately,” adds he,
“as we shall probably soon have an engagement, if we are so
reinforced with militia as to give us a probable chance of success. * * * Be assured, my dear friend, if a general engagement
takes place, whatever may be the event, you will not have
occasion to blush for your friend.”[49]
It seemed to be the object of Mr. Schuyler’s enemies to
forestall his having such a chance of distinguishing himself.
The business was pushed in Congress more urgently than even
Mr. Duer had anticipated. Beside the allegations against him
in regard to Ticonderoga, his unpopularity in the Eastern States
was urged as a sufficient reason for discontinuing him in his present
command, as the troops from that quarter were unwilling to
serve under him. This had a great effect in the present time of
peril, with several of the delegates from the East, who discredited
the other charges against him. The consequence was, that
after long and ardent debates, in which some of the most eminent
delegates from New York, who intimately knew his worth, stood
up in his favor, it was resolved (Aug. 1st) that both General
Schuyler and General St. Clair should be summoned to head-quarters
to account for the misfortunes in the North, and that
Washington should be directed to order such general officer as
he should think proper to succeed General Schuyler in the command
of the Northern department.
126The very next day a letter was addressed to Washington by
several of the leading Eastern members, men of unquestionable
good faith, such as Samuel and John Adams, urging the appointment
of Gates. “No man, in our opinion,” said they, “will be
more likely to restore harmony, order and discipline, and retrieve
our affairs in that quarter. He has, on experience, acquired the
confidence and stands high in the esteem of the Eastern troops.”
Washington excused himself from making any nomination,
alleging that the Northern department had, in a great measure,
been considered a separate one; that, moreover, the situation of
the department was delicate, and might involve interesting and
delicate consequences. The nomination, therefore, was made by
Congress; the Eastern influence prevailed, and Gates received
the appointment, so long the object of his aspirations, if not
intrigues.
Washington deeply regretted the removal of a noble-hearted
man, with whom he had acted so harmoniously, whose exertions
had been so energetic and unwearied, and who was so peculiarly
fitted for the varied duties of the department. He consoled
himself, however, with the thought that the excuse of want of
confidence in the general officers, hitherto alleged by the Eastern
States for withholding reinforcements, would be obviated by the
presence of this man of their choice.
With the prevalent wisdom of his pen, he endeavored to
allay the distrusts and apprehensions awakened by the misfortune
at Ticonderoga, which he considered the worst consequence of
that event. “If the matter were coolly and dispassionately
considered,” writes he to the council of safety of the State of New
York, “there would be nothing found so formidable in General
Burgoyne and the force under him, with all his successes, to
127countenance the least degree of despondency; and experience
would show, that even the moderate exertions of the States more
immediately interested, would be sufficient to check his career,
and, perhaps, convert the advantages he has gained to his ruin. * * * * If I do not give so effectual aid as I could wish to
the Northern army, it is not from want of inclination, nor from
being too little impressed with the importance of doing it; but
because the state of affairs in this quarter will not possibly admit
of it. It would be the height of impolicy to weaken ourselves
too much here, in order to increase our strength there; and it
must certainly be considered more difficult, as well as of greater
moment, to control the main army of the enemy, than an inferior
and, I may say, dependent one; for it is pretty obvious that if
General Howe can be kept at bay, and prevented from effecting
his purposes, the successes of General Burgoyne, whatever they
may be, must be partial and temporary.”
The sagacity and foresight of this policy will be manifested
by after events.
On the same day on which the above letter was written, he
officially announced to Gates his appointment, and desired him to
proceed immediately to the place of his destination: wishing him
success, and that he “might speedily be able to restore the face
of affairs in that quarter.”
About this time took effect a measure of Congress, making a
complete change in the commissariat. This important and complicated
department had hitherto been under the management of
one commissary-general, Colonel Joseph Trumbull of Connecticut.
By the new arrangement there were to be two commissaries-general,
one of purchases, the other of issues; each to be
appointed by Congress. They were to have several deputy commissaries
128under them, but accountable to Congress, and to be
appointed and removed by that body. These, and many subordinate
arrangements, had been adopted in opposition to the
opinion of Washington, and, most unfortunately, were brought into
operation in the midst of this perplexed and critical campaign.
Their first effect was to cause the resignation of Colonel
Trumbull, who had been nominated commissary of purchases;
and the entrance into office of a number of inexperienced men.
The ultimate effect was to paralyze the organization of this vital
department; to cause delay and confusion in furnishing and forwarding
supplies; and to retard and embarrass the operations of
the different armies throughout the year. Washington had many
dangers and difficulties to harass and perplex him throughout this
complicated campaign, and not among the least may be classed
the “stumblings of Congress.”
NOTE.
An author, eminent for his historical researches, expresses himself at a loss
to explain the prejudice existing against General Schuyler among the people
of the New England States. “There was not an individual connected with the
Revolution,” observes he, “concerning whom there is more abundant evidence
of his patriotism and unwearied services in the cause of his country.”
Wilkinson, at that time a devoted follower of Gates, and likely to know the
influences that operated against his rival, traces this prejudice up to times prior
to the Revolution, when Schuyler acted as commissioner on the part of New
York in settling the partition line between that colony and Massachusetts Bay.
This gave rise to the feuds and controversies concerning the Hampshire Grants,
in which, according to Wilkinson, the parties were distinguished by the designations
of Yankee and Yorker. The zealous exertions of Schuyler on behalf of
New York, gained him the ill will of the Hampshire grantees, and of eastern
men of the first rank with whom he came in collision. This feeling survived
the controversy, and existed among the militia from those parts. On the other
hand, Wilkinson observes, “It was General Gates’s policy to favor the views of
129the inhabitants of the Hampshire Grants, which made him popular with these
people.”
Somewhat of the prejudice against Schuyler Wilkinson ascribes to social
habits and manners, “those of New England at the time being democratic and
puritanical, whilst in New York they were courtly and aristocratical.” Schuyler
was a man of the world, and of society, cultivated, and well bred; he was
an eléve too of Major-general Bradstreet in the seven years’ war; and had
imbibed notions of military carriage and decorum in an aristocratic school;
all this rendered him impatient at times of the deficiencies in these respects
among the raw militia officers and made the latter consider him haughty and
reserved.
CHAPTER XIII.
130
WASHINGTON’S PERPLEXITIES ABOUT THE BRITISH FLEET—PUTNAM AND GOVERNOR
CLINTON PUT ON THE ALERT IN THE HIGHLANDS—MORGAN AND
HIS RIFLEMEN SENT TO THE NORTH—WASHINGTON AT PHILADELPHIA—HIS
FIRST INTERVIEW WITH LAFAYETTE—INTELLIGENCE ABOUT THE FLEET—EXPLANATIONS
OF ITS MOVEMENTS—REVIEW OF THE ARMY—LAFAYETTE
MISTAKES THE NATURE OF HIS COMMISSION—HIS ALLIANCE WITH WASHINGTON—MARCH
OF THE ARMY THROUGH PHILADELPHIA—ENCAMPMENT AT
WILMINGTON.
For several days Washington remained at Germantown in painful
uncertainty about the British fleet; whether gone to the south
or to the east. The intense heat of the weather made him unwilling
again to move his army, already excessively harassed by
marchings and countermarchings. Concluding, at length, that
the fleet had actually gone to the east, he was once more on the
way to recross the Delaware, when an express overtook him on
the 10th of August, with tidings that three days before it had
been seen off Sinepuxent Inlet, about sixteen leagues south of
the Capes of Delaware.
Again he came to a halt, and waited for further intelligence.
Danger suggested itself from a different quarter. Might it not
be Howe’s plan, by thus appearing with his ships at different
places, to lure the army after him, and thereby leave the country
131open for Sir Henry Clinton with the troops at New York to
form a junction with Burgoyne? With this idea Washington
wrote forthwith to the veteran Putnam to be on the alert; collect
all the force he could to strengthen his post at Peekskill,
and send down spies to ascertain whether Sir Henry Clinton was
actually at New York, and what troops he had there. “If he
has the number of men with him that is reported,” observes
Washington, “it is probably with the intention to attack you
from below, while Burgoyne comes down upon you from above.”
The old general, whose boast it was that he never slept but
with one eye, was already on the alert. A circumstance had
given him proof positive that Sir Henry was in New York, and
had roused his military ire. A spy, sent by that commander, had
been detected furtively collecting information of the force and
condition of the post at Peekskill, and had undergone a military
trial. A vessel of war came up the Hudson in all haste, and
landed a flag of truce at Verplanck’s Point, by which a message
was transmitted to Putnam from Sir Henry Clinton, claiming
Edmund Palmer as a lieutenant in the British service.
The reply of the old general was brief but emphatic
“Head-Quarters, 7th Aug., 1777.
“Edmund Palmer, an officer in the enemy’s service, was
taken as a spy lurking within our lines; he has been tried as a
spy, condemned as a spy, and shall be executed as a spy; and the
flag is ordered to depart immediately.
“Israel Putnam.
“P. S.—He has, accordingly, been executed.”
Governor Clinton, the other guardian of the Highlands, and
actually at his post at Fort Montgomery, was equally on the alert.
132He had faithfully followed Washington’s directions, in ordering
out militia from different counties to reinforce his own garrison
and the army under Schuyler. “I never knew the militia come
out with greater alacrity,” writes he; “but, as many of them have
yet a great part of their harvests in the field, I fear it will be
difficult to detain them long, unless the enemy will make some
movements that indicate a design of coming this way suddenly,
and so obvious as to be believed by the militia.”
At the same time, the worthy governor expressed his surprise
that the Northern army had not been reinforced from the eastward.
“The want of confidence in the general officers to the
northward,” adds he, “is the specious reason. To me it appears
a very weak one. Common gratitude to a sister State, as well as
duty to the continent at large, conspire in calling on our eastern
neighbors to step forth on this occasion.”
One measure more was taken by Washington, during this
interval, in aid of the Northern department. The Indians who
accompanied Burgoyne were objects of great dread to the American
troops, especially the militia. As a counterpoise to them, he
now sent up Colonel Morgan with five hundred riflemen, to fight
them in their own way. “They are all chosen men,” said he,
“selected from the army at large, and well acquainted with the
use of rifles and with that mode of fighting. I expect the most
eminent services from them, and I shall be mistaken if their presence
does not go far towards producing a general desertion
among the savages.” It was, indeed, an arm of strength, which
he could but ill spare from his own army.
Putnam was directed to have sloops ready to transport them
up the Hudson, and Gates was informed of their being on the way,
and about what time he might expect them, as well as two regiments
133from Peekskill, under colonels Van Courtlandt and Livingston.
“With these reinforcements, besides the militia under General
Lincoln,” writes Washington to Gates, “I am in hopes you will
find yourself at least equal to stop the progress of Mr. Burgoyne,
and, by cutting off his supplies of provisions, to render his situation
very ineligible.” Washington was thus, in a manner,
carrying on two games at once, with Howe on the seaboard and
with Burgoyne on the upper waters of the Hudson, and endeavoring
by skilful movements to give check to both. It was an
arduous and complicated task, especially with his scanty and
fluctuating means, and the wide extent of country and great
distances over which he had to move his men.
His measures to throw a force in the rear of Burgoyne were
now in a fair way of being carried into effect. Lincoln was at
Bennington. Stark had joined him with a body of New Hampshire
militia, and a corps of Massachusetts militia was arriving.
“Such a force in his rear,” observed Washington, “will oblige
Burgoyne to leave such strong posts behind as must make his
main body very weak, and extremely capable of being repulsed
by the force we have in front.”
During his encampment in the neighborhood of Philadelphia,
Washington was repeatedly at that city, making himself acquainted
with the military capabilities of the place and its surrounding
country, and directing the construction of fortifications on the
river. In one of these visits he became acquainted with the
young Marquis de Lafayette, who had recently arrived from
France, in company with a number of French, Polish, and
German officers, among whom was the Baron de Kalb. The
marquis was not quite twenty years of age, yet had already been
134married nearly three years to a lady of rank and fortune. Full
of the romance of liberty, he had torn himself from his youthful
bride, turned his back upon the gayeties and splendors of a court,
and in defiance of impediments and difficulties multiplied in his
path, had made his way to America to join its hazardous fortunes.
He sent in his letters of recommendation to Mr. Lovell,
Chairman of the Committee of Foreign Affairs; and applied the
next day at the door of Congress to know his success. Mr.
Lovell came forth, and gave him but little encouragement;
Congress, in fact, was embarrassed by the number of foreign
applications, many without merit. Lafayette immediately sent in
the following note: “After my sacrifices, I have the right to
ask two favors; one is to serve at my own expense; the other,
to commence by serving as a volunteer.”[50]
This simple appeal had its effect: it called attention to his
peculiar case, and Congress resolved on the 31st of July, that in
consideration of his zeal, his illustrious family and connections, he
should have the rank of major-general in the army of the United
States.
It was at a public dinner, where a number of members of
Congress were present, that Lafayette first saw Washington. He
immediately knew him, he said, from the officers who surrounded
him, by his commanding air and person. When the party was
breaking up, Washington took him aside, complimented him in a
gracious manner on his disinterested zeal and the generosity of
his conduct, and invited him to make head-quarters his home.
“I cannot promise you the luxuries of a court,” said he, “but as
you have become an American soldier, you will, doubtless, accommodate
yourself to the fare of an American army.”
135Many days had now elapsed without further tidings of the
fleet. What had become of it? Had Howe gone against
Charleston? If so, the distance was too great to think of following
him. Before the army, debilitated and wasted by a long
march, under a summer sun, in an unhealthy climate, could reach
there, he might accomplish every purpose he had in view, and reembark
his troops to turn his arms against Philadelphia, or any
other point, without the army being at hand to oppose him.
What, under these uncertainties, was to be done? remain inactive,
in the remote probability of Howe’s returning this way; or
proceed to the Hudson with a view either to oppose Burgoyne, or
make an attempt upon New York? A successful stroke with
respect to either, might make up for any losses sustained in the
South. The latter was unanimously determined in a council of
war, in which the Marquis Lafayette took part. As it was,
however, a movement that might involve the most important
consequences, Washington sent his aide-de-camp, Colonel Alexander
Hamilton, with a letter to the President of Congress, requesting
the opinion of that body. Congress approved the decision of the
council, and the army was about to be put in march, when all
these tormenting uncertainties were brought to an end by intelligence
that the fleet had actually entered the Chesapeake, and
anchored at Swan Point, at least two hundred miles within the
capes. “By General Howe’s coming so far up the Chesapeake,”
writes Washington, “he must mean to reach Philadelphia by
that route, though to be sure it is a strange one.”
The mystery of these various appearances and vanishings
which had caused so much wonder and perplexity, is easily
explained. Shortly before putting to sea with the ships of war,
Howe had sent a number of transports, and a ship cut down as a
136floating battery, up the Hudson, which had induced Washington
to despatch troops to the Highlands. After putting to sea, the
fleet was a week in reaching the Capes of Delaware. When
there, the commanders were deterred from entering the river by
reports of measures taken to obstruct its navigation. It was then
determined to make for Chesapeake Bay, and approach, in that
way, as near as possible to Philadelphia. Contrary winds, however,
kept them for a long time from getting into the bay.
Lafayette, in his memoirs, describes a review of Washington’s
army which he witnessed about this time. “Eleven thousand
men, but tolerably armed, and still worse clad, presented,” he
said, “a singular spectacle; in this parti-colored and often naked
state, the best dresses were hunting shirts of brown linen. Their
tactics were equally irregular. They were arranged without
regard to size, excepting that the smallest men were the front
rank; with all this, there were good-looking soldiers conducted
by zealous officers.”
“We ought to feel embarrassed,” said Washington to him,
“in presenting ourselves before an officer just from the French
army.”
“It is to learn, and not to instruct, that I come here,” was
Lafayette’s apt and modest reply; and it gained him immediate
popularity.
The marquis, however, had misconceived the nature of his appointment;
his commission was merely honorary, but he had
supposed it given with a view to the command of a division of the
army. This misconception on his part caused Washington some
embarrassment. The marquis, with his characteristic vivacity
and ardor, was eager for immediate employ. He admitted that
he was young and inexperienced, but always accompanied the
137admission with the assurance that, so soon as Washington should
think him fit for the command of a division, he would be ready to
enter upon the duties of it, and, in the mean time, offered his
services for a smaller command. “What the designs of Congress
respecting this gentleman are, and what line of conduct I
am to pursue to comply with their design and his expectations,”
writes Washington, “I know not, and beg to be instructed.”
“The numberless applications for employment by foreigners
under their respective appointments,” continues he, “add no
small embarrassment to a command, which, without it, is abundantly
perplexed by the different tempers I have to do with, and
the different modes which the respective States have pursued in
nominating and arranging their officers; the combination of all
which is but too just a representation of a great chaos, from
whence we are endeavoring, how successfully time only can
show, to draw some regularity and order.”[51] How truly is here
depicted one of the great difficulties of his command, continually
tasking his equity and equanimity. In the present instance it
was intimated to Washington, that he was not bound by the tenor
of Lafayette’s commission to give him a command; but was at
liberty to follow his own judgment in the matter. This still
left him in a delicate situation with respect to the marquis, whose
prepossessing manners and self-sacrificing zeal inspired regard;
but whose extreme youth and inexperience necessitated caution.
Lafayette, however, from the first attached himself to Washington
with an affectionate reverence, the sincerity of which could
not be mistaken, and soon won his way into a heart, which, with
all its apparent coldness, was naturally confiding, and required
138sympathy and friendship; and it is a picture well worthy to be
hung up in history,—this cordial and enduring alliance of the
calm, dignified, sedate Washington, mature in years and wisdom,
and the young, buoyant, enthusiastic Lafayette.
The several divisions of the army had been summoned to
the immediate neighborhood of Philadelphia, and the militia of
Pennsylvania, Delaware, and the northern parts of Virginia
were called out. Many of the militia, with Colonel Proctor’s
corps of artillery, had been ordered to rendezvous at Chester on
the Delaware, about twelve miles below Philadelphia; and by
Washington’s orders, General Wayne left his brigade under the
next in command, and repaired to Chester, to arrange the troops
assembling there.
As there had been much disaffection to the cause evinced in
Philadelphia, Washington, in order to encourage its friends and
dishearten its enemies, marched with the whole army through the
city, down Front and up Chestnut Street. Great pains were
taken to make the display as imposing as possible. All were
charged to keep to their ranks, carry their arms well, and step in
time to the music of the drums and fifes, collected in the centre
of each brigade. “Though indifferently dressed,” says a spectator,
“they held well burnished arms, and carried them like
soldiers, and looked, in short, as if they might have faced an
equal number with a reasonable prospect of success.” To give
them something of a uniform appearance, they had sprigs of
green in their hats.
Washington rode at the head of the troops attended by his
numerous staff, with the Marquis Lafayette by his side. The
long column of the army, broken into divisions and brigades,
the pioneers with their axes, the squadrons of horse, the extended
139trains of artillery, the tramp of steed, the bray of trumpet,
and the spirit-stirring sound of drum and fife, all had an imposing
effect on a peaceful city unused to the sight of marshalled
armies. The disaffected, who had been taught to believe the
American forces much less than they were in reality, were astonished
as they gazed on the lengthening procession of a host,
which, to their unpractised eyes, appeared innumerable; while the
whigs, gaining fresh hope and animation from the sight, cheered
the patriot squadrons as they passed.
Having marched through Philadelphia, the army continued
on to Wilmington, at the confluence of Christiana Creek and the
Brandywine, where Washington set up his head-quarters, his
troops being encamped on the neighboring heights.
We will now revert to the other object of Washington’s care
and solicitude, the invading army of Burgoyne in the North;
and will see how far his precautionary measures were effective.
CHAPTER XIV
140
BURGOYNE AT SKENESBOROUGH—PREPARES TO MOVE TOWARDS THE HUDSON—MAJOR
SKENE THE ROYALIST—SLOW MARCH TO FORT ANNE—SCHUYLER
AT FORT MILLER—PAINTED WARRIORS—LANGLADE—ST. LUC—HONOR OF
THE TOMAHAWK—TRAGICAL HISTORY OF MISS MCCREA—ITS RESULTS—BURGOYNE
ADVANCES TO FORT EDWARD—SCHUYLER AT STILLWATER—JOINED
BY LINCOLN—BURGOYNE DESERTED BY HIS INDIAN ALLIES.
In a preceding chapter we left Burgoyne, early in July, at
Skenesborough, of which he had just gained possession. He
remained there nearly three weeks, awaiting the arrival of the
residue of his troops, with tents, baggage and provisions, and
preparing for his grand move toward the Hudson River. Many
royalists flocked to his standard. One of the most important
was Major Skene, from whom the place was named, being its
founder, and the owner of much land in its neighborhood. He
had served in the French war, but retired on half pay; bought
“soldiers’ grants” of land lying within this township, at a trifling
price, had their titles secured by royal patent, and thus made a
fortune. Burgoyne considered him a valuable adjunct and counsellor,
and frequently took advice from him in his campaign
through this part of the country.
The progress of the army towards the Hudson was slow and
difficult, in consequence of the impediments which Schuyler had
141multiplied in his way during his long halt at Skenesborough,
bridges broken down had to be rebuilt; great trees to be removed
which had been felled across the roads and into Wood
Creek, which stream was completely choked. It was not until
the latter part of July that Burgoyne reached Fort Anne. At
his approach, General Schuyler retired from Fort Edward and
took post at Fort Miller, a few miles lower down the Hudson.
The Indian allies who had hitherto accompanied the British
army, had been more troublesome than useful. Neither Burgoyne
nor his officers understood their language, but were obliged
to communicate with them through Canadian interpreters; too
often designing knaves, who played false to both parties. The
Indians, too, were of the tribes of Lower Canada, corrupted and
debased by intercourse with white men. It had been found
difficult to draw them from the plunder of Ticonderoga, or to
restrain their murderous propensities.
A party had recently arrived of a different stamp. Braves
of the Ottawa and other tribes from the upper country; painted
and decorated with savage magnificence, and bearing trophies of
former triumphs. They were, in fact, according to Burgoyne,
the very Indians who had aided the French in the defeat of
Braddock, and were under the conduct of two French leaders;
one, named Langlade, had command of them on that very occasion;
the other, named St. Luc, is described by Burgoyne as a
Canadian gentleman of honor and abilities, and one of the best
partisans of the French in the war of 1756.
Burgoyne trusted to his newly arrived Indians to give a check
to the operations of Schuyler, knowing the terror they inspired
throughout the country. He thought also to employ them in a
wild foray to the Connecticut River, to force a supply of provisions,
142intercept reinforcements to the American army, and confirm
the jealousy which he had, in many ways, endeavored to excite
in the New England provinces. He was naturally a humane man,
and disliked Indian allies, but these had hitherto served in company
with civilized troops, and he trusted to the influence possessed
over them by St. Luc and Langlade, to keep them within
the usages of war. A circumstance occurred, however, which
showed how little the “wild honor” of these warriors of the
tomahawk is to be depended upon.
In General Fraser’s division was a young officer, Lieutenant
David Jones, an American loyalist. His family had their home
in the vicinity of Fort Edward before the Revolution. A
mutual attachment had taken place between the youth and a
beautiful girl, Jane McCrea. She was the daughter of a Scotch
Presbyterian clergyman of the Jerseys, some time deceased, and
resided with her brother on the banks of the Hudson a few miles
below Fort Edward. The lovers were engaged to be married,
when the breaking out of the war severed families and disturbed
all the relations of life. The Joneses were royalists; the brother
of Miss McCrea was a stanch whig. The former removed to
Canada, where David Jones was among the most respectable of
those who joined the royal standard, and received a lieutenant’s
commission.
The attachment between the lovers continued, and it is probable
that a correspondence was kept up between them. Lieutenant
Jones was now in Fraser’s camp; in his old neighborhood.
Miss McCrea was on a visit to a widow lady, Mrs. O’Niel, residing
at Fort Edward. The approach of Burgoyne’s army had
spread an alarm through the country; the inhabitants were flying
from their homes. The brother of Miss McCrea determined to
143remove to Albany, and sent for his sister to return home and
make ready to accompany him. She hesitated to obey. He sent
a more urgent message, representing the danger of lingering near
the fort, which must inevitably fall into the hands of the enemy.
Still she lingered. The lady with whom she was a guest was a
royalist, a friend of General Fraser; her roof would be respected.
Even should Fort Edward be captured, what had Jane to
fear? Her lover was in the British camp; the capture of the
fort would reunite them.
Her brother’s messages now became peremptory. She prepared,
reluctantly, to obey, and was to embark in a large bateau
which was to convey several families down the river. The very
morning when the embarkation was to take place, the neighborhood
was a scene of terror. A marauding party of Indians, sent
out by Burgoyne to annoy General Schuyler, were harassing the
country. Several of them burst into the house of Mrs. O’Niel,
sacked and plundered it, and carried off her and Miss McCrea
prisoners. In her fright the latter promised the savages a large
reward, if they would spare her life and take her in safety to the
British camp. It was a fatal promise. Halting at a spring, a
quarrel arose among the savages, inflamed most probably with
drink, as to whose prize she was, and who was entitled to the
reward. The dispute became furious, and one, in a paroxysm of
rage, killed her on the spot. He completed the savage act by
bearing off her scalp as a trophy.
General Burgoyne was struck with horror when he heard of
this bloody deed. What at first heightened the atrocity was a
report that the Indians had been sent by Lieutenant Jones to
bring Miss McCrea to the camp. This he positively denied,
and his denial was believed. Burgoyne summoned a council of
144the Indian chiefs, in which he insisted that the murderer of Miss
McCrea should be given up to receive the reward of his crime.
The demand produced a violent agitation. The culprit was a
great warrior, a chief, and the “wild honor” of his brother
sachems was roused in his behalf. St. Luc took Burgoyne aside,
and entreated him not to push the matter to extremities; assuring
him that, from what was passing among the chiefs, he was
sure they and their warriors would all abandon the army, should
the delinquent be executed. The British officers also interfered,
representing the danger that might accrue should the Indians return
through Canada, with their savage resentments awakened,
or, what was worse, should they go over to the Americans.
Burgoyne was thus reluctantly brought to spare the offender,
but thenceforth made it a rule that no party of Indians should
be permitted to go forth on a foray unless under the conduct of
a British officer, or some other competent person, who should be
responsible for their behavior.
The mischief to the British cause, however, had been effected.
The murder of Miss McCrea resounded throughout the land,
counteracting all the benefit anticipated from the terror of Indian
hostilities. Those people of the frontiers, who had hitherto
remained quiet, now flew to arms to defend their families and firesides.
In their exasperation they looked beyond the savages to
their employers. They abhorred an army, which, professing to
be civilized, could league itself with such barbarians; and they
execrated a government, which, pretending to reclaim them as
subjects, could let loose such fiends to desolate their homes.
The blood of this unfortunate girl, therefore, was not shed in
vain. Armies sprang up from it. Her name passed as a note of
alarm, along the banks of the Hudson; it was a rallying word
145among the Green Mountains of Vermont, and brought down all
their hardy yeomanry.[52]
As Burgoyne advanced to Fort Edward, Schuyler fell still
further back, and took post at Saratoga, or rather Stillwater,
about thirty miles from Albany. He had been joined by Major-general
Lincoln, who, according to Washington’s directions, had
hastened to his assistance. In pursuance of Washington’s plans,
Lincoln proceeded to Manchester in Vermont, to take command
of the militia forces collecting at that point. His presence inspired
new confidence in the country people, who were abandoning
their homes, leaving their crops ungathered, and taking refuge
with their families in the lower towns. He found about five hundred
militia assembled at Manchester, under Colonel Seth Warner;
others were coming on from New Hampshire and Massachusetts,
to protect their uncovered frontier. His letters, dated
the 4th of August, expressed the expectation of being, in a few
days, at the head of at least two thousand men. With these,
according to Washington’s plan, he was to hang on the flank
and rear of Burgoyne’s army, cramp its movements, and watch
for an opportunity to strike a blow.
146Burgoyne was now at Fort Edward. “The enthusiasm of
the army, as well as of the general, upon their arrival on the
Hudson River, which had been so long the object of their hopes
and wishes, may be better conceived than described,” says a British
writer of the day. The enthusiasm of the general was soon
checked, however, by symptoms of ill-humor among his Indian
allies. They resented his conduct in regard to the affair of Miss
McCrea, and were impatient under the restraint to which they
were subjected. He suspected the Canadian interpreters of
fomenting this discontent; they being accustomed to profit by
the rapine of the Indians. At the earnest request of St. Luc, in
whom he still had confidence, he called a council of the chiefs;
when, to his astonishment, the tribe for whom that gentleman
acted as interpreter, declared their intention of returning home,
and demanded his concurrence and assistance.
Burgoyne was greatly embarrassed. Should he acquiesce, it
would be to relinquish the aid of a force obtained at an immense
expense, esteemed in England of great importance, and which really
was serviceable in furnishing scouts and outposts; yet he saw
that a cordial reconciliation with them could only be effected by
revoking his prohibitions, and indulging their propensities to
blood and rapine.
To his credit be it recorded, he adhered to what was right, and
rejected what might be deemed expedient. He refused their
proposition, and persisted in the restraints he had imposed upon
them, but appealed to the wild honor, of which he yet considered
them capable, by urging the ties of faith, of generosity, of every
thing that has an influence with civilized man. His speech appeared
to have a good effect. Some of the remote tribes made
zealous professions of loyalty and adhesion. Others, of Lower
147Canada, only asked furloughs for parties to return home and
gather in their harvests. These were readily granted, and perfect
harmony seemed restored. The next day, however, the chivalry
of the wilderness deserted by scores, laden with such spoil as
they had collected in their maraudings. These desertions continued
from day to day, until there remained in the camp scarce a
vestige of the savage warriors that had joined the army at
Skenesborough.[53]
CHAPTER XV.
148
DIFFICULTIES OF BURGOYNE—PLANS AN EXPEDITION TO BENNINGTON—ST. LEGER
BEFORE FORT STANWIX—GENERAL HERKIMER AT ORISKANY—HIGH WORDS
WITH HIS OFFICERS—A DOGGED MARCH—AN AMBUSCADE—BATTLE OF
ORISKANY—JOHNSON’S GREENS—DEATH OF HERKIMER—SPIRITED SORTIE
OF COLONEL WILLETT—SIR JOHN JOHNSON DRIVEN TO THE RIVER—FLIGHT
OF THE INDIANS—SACKING OF SIR JOHN’S CAMP—COLONEL GANSEVOORT
MAINTAINS HIS POST—COLONEL WILLETT SENT IN QUEST OF AID—ARRIVES
AT SCHUYLER’S CAMP.
New difficulties beset Burgoyne at Fort Edward. The horses
which had been contracted for in Canada, for draft, burthen and
saddle, arrived slowly and scantily; having to come a long distance
through the wilderness. Artillery and munitions, too, of
all kinds, had to be brought from Ticonderoga by the way of
Lake George. These, with a vast number of boats for freight,
or to form bridges, it was necessary to transport over the carrying
places between the lakes; and by land from Fort George to
Fort Edward. Unfortunately, the army had not the requisite
supply of horses and oxen. So far from being able to bring forward
provisions for a march, it was with difficulty enough could
be furnished to feed the army from day to day.
While thus situated, Burgoyne received intelligence that the
part of his army which he had detached from Canada under
149Colonel St. Leger, to proceed by Lake Ontario and Oswego and
make a diversion on the Mohawk, had penetrated to that river,
and were actually investing Fort Stanwix, the stronghold of that
part of the country.
To carry out the original plan of his campaign, it now behooved
him to make a rapid move down the Hudson, so as to be
at hand to co-operate with St. Leger on his approach to Albany.
But how was he to do this, deficient as he was in horses and
vehicles for transportation? In this dilemma Colonel (late major)
Skene, the royalist of Skenesborough, to whom, from his knowledge
of all this region, he had of late resorted for counsel, informed
him that at Bennington, about twenty-four miles east of the Hudson,
the Americans had a great depot of horses, carriages, and
supplies of all kind, intended for their Northern army. This
place, he added, might easily be surprised, being guarded by
only a small militia force.
An expedition was immediately set on foot; not only to surprise
this place, but to scour the country from Rockingham to
Otter Creek, go down the Connecticut as far as Brattleborough,
and return by the great road to Albany, there to meet Burgoyne.
They were to make prisoners of all officers, civil and military,
whom they might meet, acting under Congress; to tax the towns
where they halted with every thing they stood in need of, and
bring off all horses fit for the dragoons, or for battalion service,
with as many saddles and bridles as could be found.
They were every where to give out that this was the vanguard
of the British army, which would soon follow on its way
to Boston, and would be joined by the army from Rhode Island.
Before relating the events of this expedition, we will turn to
notice those of the detachment under St. Leger, with which it
150was intended to co-operate, and which was investing Fort
Schuyler.
This fort, built in 1756, on the site of an old French fortification,
and formerly called Fort Stanwix, from a British general of
that name, was situated on the right bank of the Mohawk River,
at the head of its navigation, and commanding the carrying-place
between it and Wood Creek, whence the boats passed to the
Oneida Lake, the Oswego River, and Lake Ontario. It was
thus a key to the intercourse between Upper Canada and the
valley of the Mohawk. The fort was square, with four bastions,
and was originally a place of strength; having bomb-proof magazines,
a deep moat and drawbridge, a sally port, and covered
way. In the long interval of peace subsequent to the French
war, it had fallen to decay. Recently it had been repaired by
order of General Schuyler, and had received his name. It was
garrisoned by seven hundred and fifty Continental troops from New
York and Massachusetts, and was under the command of Colonel
Gansevoort of the New York line, a stout-hearted officer of Dutch
descent, who had served under General Montgomery in Canada.
It was a motley force which appeared before it; British, Hessian,
Royalist, Canadian and Indian, about seventeen hundred
in all. Among them were St. Leger’s rangers and Sir John
Johnson’s royalist corps, called his greens. Many of the latter
had followed Sir John into Canada from the valley of the Mohawk,
and were now returned to bring the horrors of war among
their former neighbors. The Indians, their worthy allies, were
led by the famous Brant.
On the 3d of August, St. Leger sent in a flag with a summons
to surrender; accompanied by a proclamation in style and
spirit similar to that recently issued by Burgoyne, and intended
151to operate on the garrison. Both his summons and his proclamation
were disregarded. He now set his troops to work to fortify
his camp and clear obstructions from Wood Creek and the roads,
for the transportation of artillery and provisions, and sent out
scouting parties of Indians in all directions, to cut off all communication
of the garrison with the surrounding country. A
few shells were thrown into the fort. The chief annoyance of
the garrison was from the Indians firing with their rifles from
behind trees on those busied in repairing the parapets. At night
they seemed completely to surround the fort, filling the woods
with their yells and howlings.
On the 6th of August, three men made their way into the
fort through a swamp, which the enemy had deemed impassable.
They brought the cheering intelligence that General Herkimer,
the veteran commander of the militia of Tryon County, was at
Oriskany, about eight miles distant, with upwards of eight hundred
men. The people of that country were many of them of
German origin; some of them Germans by birth. Herkimer
was among the former; a large and powerful man, about sixty-five
years of age. He requested Colonel Gansevoort, through
his two messengers, to fire three signal-guns on receiving word of
his vicinage; upon hearing which, he would endeavor to force his
way to the fort, depending upon the co-operation of the garrison.
The messengers had been despatched by Herkimer on the
evening of the 5th, and he had calculated that they would reach
the fort at a very early hour in the morning. Through some delay,
they did not reach it until between ten and eleven o’clock.
Gansevoort instantly complied with the message. Three signal-guns
were fired, and Colonel Willett, of the New York Continentals,
with two hundred and fifty men and an iron three-pounder
152was detached to make a diversion, by attacking that part of the
enemy’s camp occupied by Johnson and his royalists.
The delay of the messengers in the night, however, disconcerted
the plan of Herkimer. He marshalled his troops by daybreak
and waited for the signal-guns. Hour after hour elapsed,
but no gun was heard. His officers became impatient of delay,
and urged an immediate march. Herkimer represented that they
were too weak to force their way to the fort without reinforcements,
or without being sure of co-operation from the garrison, and
was still for awaiting the preconcerted signals. High words ensued
between him and two of his officers. He had a brother and
other relatives among the enemy, and hence there were some
doubts of his fidelity; though they subsequently proved to be unmerited.
Colonels Cox and Paris were particularly urgent for
an advance, and suspicious of the motives for holding back.
Paris was a prominent man in Tryon County, and member of
the committee of safety, and in compliance with the wishes of
that committee, accompanied Herkimer as his volunteer aide.
Losing his temper in the dispute, he accused the latter of being
either a tory or a coward. “No,” replied the brave old man, “I
feel toward you all as a father, and will not lead you into a scrape
from which I cannot extricate you.” His discretion, however,
was overpowered by repeated taunts, and he at length, about nine
o’clock, gave the word to march; intimating, however, that those
who were the most eager to advance, would be the first to run
away.
The march was rather dogged and irregular. There was ill-humor
between the general and his officers. Colonels Paris and
Cox advised him to throw out a reconnoitring party in the advance,
but he disregarded their advice, and perhaps in very opposition
153to it, neglected so necessary a precaution. About ten
o’clock they came to a place where the road was carried on a
causeway of logs across a deep marshy ravine, between high level
banks. The main division descended into the ravine, followed by
the baggage waggons. They had scarcely crossed it, when enemies
suddenly sprang up in front and on each side, with deadly volleys
of musketry, and deafening yells and war-whoops. In fact, St.
Leger, apprised by his scouts of their intended approach, had sent a
force to waylay them. This was composed of a division of Johnson’s
greens, led by his brother-in-law, Major Watts; a company of
rangers under Colonel Butler, a refugee from this neighborhood,
and a strong body of Indians under Brant. The troops were
stationed in front just beyond the ravine; the Indians along each
side of the road. The plan of the ambuscade was to let the
van of the Americans pass the ravine and advance between the
concealed parties, when the attack was to be commenced by the
troops in front, after which, the Indians were to fall on the Americans
in rear and cut off all retreat.
The savages, however, could not restrain their natural ferocity
and hold back as ordered, but discharged their rifles simultaneously
with the troops, and instantly rushed forward with
spears and tomahawks, yelling like demons, and commencing a
dreadful butchery. The rear-guard, which had not entered the
ravine, retreated. The main body, though thrown into confusion,
defended themselves bravely. One of those severe conflicts ensued,
common in Indian warfare, where the combatants take post with
their rifles, behind rock and tree, or come to deadly struggle with
knife and tomahawk.
The veteran Herkimer was wounded early in the action. A
musket ball shattered his leg just below the knee, killing his
154horse at the same time. He made his men place him on his
saddle at the foot of a large beach tree, against the trunk of
which he leaned, continuing to give his orders.
The regulars attempted to charge with the bayonet; but the
Americans formed themselves in circles back to back, and repelled
them. A heavy storm of thunder and rain caused a temporary
lull to the fight, during which the patriots changed their
ground. Some of them stationed themselves in pairs behind
trees; so that when one had fired the other could cover him until
he had reloaded; for the savages were apt to rush up with knife
and tomahawk the moment a man had discharged his piece.
Johnson’s greens came up to sustain the Indians, who were giving
way, and now was the fiercest part of the fight. Old neighbors
met in deadly feud; former intimacy gave bitterness to
present hate, and war was literally carried to the knife; for the
bodies of combatants were afterwards found on the field of
battle, grappled in death, with the hand still grasping the knife
plunged in a neighbor’s heart. The very savages seemed inspired
with unusual ferocity by the confusion and death struggle around
them, and the sight of their prime warriors and favorite chiefs
shot down. In their blind fury they attacked the white men indiscriminately,
friend or foe, so that in this chance-medley fight
many of Sir John’s greens were slain by his own Indian allies.
A confusion reigns over the accounts of this fight; in which
every one saw little but what occurred in his immediate vicinity.
The Indians, at length, having lost many of their bravest
warriors, gave the retreating cry, Oonah! Oonah! and fled to
the woods. The greens and rangers, hearing a firing in the
direction of the fort, feared an attack upon their camp, and
hastened to its defence, carrying off with them many prisoners.
155The Americans did not pursue them, but placing their wounded
on litters made of branches of trees, returned to Oriskany.
Both parties have claimed the victory; but it does not appear
that either was entitled to it. The dead of both parties lay for
days unburied on the field of action, and a wounded officer of the
enemy (Major Watts) remained there two days unrelieved, until
found by an Indian scout. It would seem as if each party gladly
abandoned this scene of one of the most savage conflicts of the
Revolution. The Americans had two hundred killed, and a number
wounded. Several of these were officers. The loss of the
enemy is thought to have been equally great as to numbers; but
then the difference in value between regulars and militia! the
former often the refuse of mankind, mere hirelings, whereas
among the privates of the militia, called out from their homes to
defend their neighborhood, were many of the worthiest and most
valuable of the yeomanry. The premature haste of the Indians
in attacking, had saved the Americans from being completely surrounded.
The rear-guard, not having entered the defile, turned
and made a rapid retreat, but were pursued by the Indians, and
suffered greatly in a running fight. We may add that those who
had been most urgent with General Herkimer for this movement,
were among the first to suffer from it. Colonel Cox was
shot down at the first fire, so was a son of Colonel Paris; the
colonel himself was taken prisoner, and fell beneath the tomahawk
of the famous Red Jacket.
As to General Herkimer, he was conveyed to his residence
on the Mohawk River, and died nine days after the battle, not so
much from his wound as from bad surgery; sinking gradually
through loss of blood from an unskilful amputation. He died
like a philosopher and a Christian, smoking his pipe and reading
156his Bible to the last. His name has been given to a county in
that part of the State.[53]
The sortie of Colonel Willett had been spirited and successful.
He attacked the encampments of Sir John Johnson and the
Indians, which were contiguous, and strong detachments of which
were absent on the ambuscade. Sir John and his men were
driven to the river; the Indians fled to the woods. Willett
sacked their camps; loaded waggons with camp equipage, clothing,
blankets, and stores of all kinds, seized the baggage and
papers of Sir John and of several of his officers, and retreated
safely to the fort, just as St. Leger was coming up with a powerful
reinforcement. Five colors, which he had brought away
with him as trophies, were displayed under the flag of the fort,
while his men gave three cheers from the ramparts.
St. Leger now endeavored to operate on the fears of the garrison.
His prisoners, it is said, were compelled to write a letter,
giving dismal accounts of the affair of Oriskany, and of the impossibility
of getting any succor to the garrison; of the probability
that Burgoyne and his army were then before Albany, and
advising surrender to prevent inevitable destruction. It is probable
they were persuaded, rather than compelled, to write the
letter, which took its tone from their own depressed feelings and
the misrepresentations of those around them. St. Leger accompanied
the letter with warnings that, should the garrison persist
in resistance, he would not be able to restrain the fury of the
savages; who, though held in check for the present, threatened,
if further provoked, to revenge the deaths of their warriors and
157chiefs by slaughtering the garrison, and laying waste the whole
valley of the Mohawk.
All this failing to shake the resolution of Gansevoort, St.
Leger next issued an appeal to the inhabitants of Tryon County,
signed by their old neighbors, Sir John Johnson, Colonel Claus
and Colonel Butler, promising pardon and protection to all who
should submit to royal authority, and urging them to send a deputation
of their principal men to overcome the mulish obstinacy
of the garrison, and save the whole surrounding country from Indian
ravage and massacre. The people of the county, however,
were as little to be moved as the garrison.
St. Leger now began to lose heart. The fort proved more
capable of defence than he had anticipated. His artillery was
too light, and the ramparts, being of sod, were not easily battered.
He was obliged reluctantly to resort to the slow process of sapping
and mining, and began to make regular approaches.
Gansevoort, seeing the siege was likely to be protracted,
resolved to send to General Schuyler for succor. Colonel Willett
volunteered to undertake the perilous errand. He was accompanied
by Lieutenant Stockwell, an excellent woodsman, who
served as a guide. They left the fort on the 10th, after dark,
by a sally port, passed by the British sentinels and close by the
Indian camp, without being discovered, and made their way
through bog and morass and pathless forests, and all kinds of
risks and hardships, until they reached the German Flats on the
Mohawk. Here Willett procured a couple of horses, and by
dint of hoof arrived at the camp of General Schuyler at Stillwater.
A change had come over the position of that commander
four days previous to the arrival of Colonel Willett, as we
shall relate in the ensuing chapter.
CHAPTER XVI.
158
SCHUYLER HEARS OF THE AFFAIR OF ORISKANY—APPLIES FOR REINFORCEMENTS—HIS
APPEAL TO THE PATRIOTISM OF STARK—SCHUYLER SUPERSEDED—HIS
CONDUCT THEREUPON—RELIEF SENT TO FORT STANWIX—ARNOLD
VOLUNTEERS TO CONDUCT IT—CHANGE OF ENCAMPMENT—PATRIOTIC
DETERMINATION OF SCHUYLER—DETACHMENT OF THE ENEMY AGAINST
BENNINGTON—GERMANS AND THEIR INDIAN ALLIES—BAUM, THE HESSIAN
LEADER—STARK IN THE FIELD—MUSTERING OF THE MILITIA—A BELLIGERENT
PARSON—BATTLE OF BENNINGTON—BREYMAN TO THE RESCUE—ROUTED—RECEPTION
OF THE NEWS IN THE RIVAL CAMPS—WASHINGTON
URGES NEW ENGLAND TO FOLLOW UP THE BLOW.
Schuyler was in Albany in the early part of August, making
stirring appeals in every direction for reinforcements. Burgoyne
was advancing upon him; he had received news of the disastrous
affair of Oriskany, and the death of General Herkimer, and Tryon
County was crying to him for assistance. One of his appeals
was to the veteran John Stark, the comrade of Putnam in the
French war and the battle of Bunker’s Hill. He had his farm
in the Hampshire Grants, and his name was a tower of strength
among the Green Mountain Boys. But Stark was soured with
government, and had retired from service, his name having been
omitted in the list of promotions. Hearing that he was on a visit
to Lincoln’s camp at Manchester, Schuyler wrote to that general,
“Assure General Stark that I have acquainted Congress of his
159situation, and that I trust and entreat he will, in the present
alarming crisis, waive his right; the greater the sacrifice he
makes to his feelings, the greater will be the honor due to him
for not having suffered any consideration whatever, to come in
competition with the weal of his country: entreat him to march
immediately to our army.”
Schuyler had instant call to practise the very virtue he was
inculcating. He was about to mount his horse on the 10th, to
return to the camp at Stillwater, when a despatch from Congress
was put into his hand containing the resolves which recalled him
to attend a court of inquiry about the affair of Ticonderoga, and
requested Washington to appoint an officer to succeed him.
Schuyler felt deeply the indignity of being thus recalled at a
time when an engagement was apparently at hand, but endeavored
to console himself with the certainty that a thorough investigation
of his conduct would prove how much he was entitled to the
thanks of his country. He intimated the same in his reply to
Congress; in the mean time, he considered it his duty to remain
at his post until his successor should arrive, or some officer in
the department be nominated to the command. Returning,
therefore, to the camp at Stillwater, he continued to conduct the
affairs of the army with unremitting zeal. “Until the country
is in safety,” said he, “I will stifle my resentment.”
His first care was to send relief to Gansevoort and his beleaguered
garrison. Eight hundred men were all that he could
spare from his army in its present threatened state. A spirited
and effective officer was wanted to lead them. Arnold was in
camp; recently sent on as an efficient coadjutor, by Washington;
he was in a state of exasperation against the government, having
just learnt that the question of rank had been decided against
160him in Congress. Indeed, he would have retired instantly from
the service, had not Schuyler prevailed on him to remain until
the impending danger was over. It was hardly to be expected,
that in his irritated mood he would accept the command of the
detachment, if offered to him. Arnold, however, was a combustible
character. The opportunity of an exploit flashed on his
adventurous spirit. He stepped promptly forward and volunteered
to lead the enterprise. “No public nor private injury or
insult,” said he, “shall prevail on me to forsake the cause of my
injured and oppressed country, until I see peace and liberty restored
to her, or nobly die in the attempt.”[54]
After the departure of this detachment, it was unanimously
determined in a council of war of Schuyler and his general
officers, that the post at Stillwater was altogether untenable with
their actual force; part of the army, therefore, retired to the
islands at the fords on the mouth of the Mohawk River, where it
empties into the Hudson, and a brigade was posted above the
Falls of the Mohawk, called the Cohoes, to prevent the enemy
from crossing there. It was considered a strong position, where
they could not be attacked without great disadvantage to the
assailant.
The feelings of Schuyler were more and more excited as the
game of war appeared drawing to a crisis. “I am resolved,”
writes he to his friend Duane, “to make another sacrifice to my
country, and risk the censure of Congress by remaining in this
quarter after I am relieved, and bringing up the militia to the
support of this weak army.”
As yet he did not know who was to be his successor in the
161command. A letter from Duane informed him that General
Gates was the man.
Still the noble part of Schuyler’s nature was in the ascendant.
“Your fears may be up,” writes he in reply, “lest the ill-treatment
I have experienced at his hands, should so far get the
better of my judgment as to embarrass him. Do not, my dear
friend, be uneasy on that account. I am incapable of sacrificing
my country to a resentment, however just; and I trust I shall
give an example of what a good citizen ought to do when he is in
my situation.”
We will now take a view of occurrences on the right and left
of Burgoyne, and show the effect of Schuyler’s measures, poorly
seconded as they were, in crippling and straitening the invading
army. And first, we will treat of the expedition against Bennington.
This was a central place, whither the live stock was
driven from various parts of the Hampshire Grants, and whence
the American army derived its supplies. It was a great deposit,
also, of grain of various kinds, and of wheel carriages; the usual
guard was militia, varying from day to day. Bennington was to
be surprised. The country was to be scoured from Rockingham
to Otter Creek in quest of provisions for the army, horses and
oxen for draft, and horses for the cavalry. All public magazines
were to be sacked. All cattle belonging to royalists, and which
could be spared by their owners, were to be paid for. All rebel
flocks and herds were to be driven away.
Generals Phillips and Riedesel demurred strongly to the
expedition, but their counsels were outweighed by those of Colonel
Skene, the royalist. He knew, he said, all the country
thereabout. The inhabitants were as five to one in favor of the
royal cause, and would be prompt to turn out on the first appearance
162of a protecting army. He was to accompany the expedition,
and much was expected from his personal influence and
authority.
Lieutenant-colonel Baum was to command the detachment.
He had under him, according to Burgoyne, two hundred dismounted
dragoons of the regiment of Riedesel, Captain Fraser’s
marksmen, which were the only British, all the Canadian volunteers,
a party of the provincials who perfectly knew the country,
one hundred Indians, and two light pieces of cannon. The
whole detachment amounted to about five hundred men. The
dragoons, it was expected, would supply themselves with horses
in the course of the foray; and a skeleton corps of royalists
would be filled up by recruits.
The Germans had no great liking for the Indians as fellow-campaigners;
especially those who had come from Upper Canada
under St. Luc. “These savages are heathens, huge, warlike and
enterprising, but wicked as Satan,” writes a Hessian officer.
“Some say they are cannibals, but I do not believe it; though
in their fury they will tear the flesh off their enemies with their
teeth. They have a martial air, and their wild ornaments become
them.”[55] St. Luc, who commanded them, had been a terror to
the English colonists in the French war, and it was intimated
that he possessed great treasures of “old English scalps.” He
and his warriors, however, had disappeared from camp since the
affair of Miss McCrea. The present were Indians from Lower
Canada.
The choice of German troops for this foray, was much sneered
at by the British officers. “A corps could not have been found
163in the whole army,” said they, “so unfit for a service requiring
rapidity of motion, as Riedesel’s dragoons. The very hat and
sword of one of them weighed nearly as much as the whole
equipment of a British soldier. The worst British regiment in
the service would march two miles to their one.”
To be nearer at hand in case assistance should be required
Burgoyne encamped on the east side of the Hudson, nearly opposite
Saratoga, throwing over a bridge of boats by which General
Fraser, with the advanced guard, crossed to that place. Colonel
Baum set out from camp at break of day, on the 13th of August.
All that had been predicted of his movements was verified.
The badness of the road, the excessive heat of the weather, and
the want of carriages and horses were alleged in excuse; but
slow and unapt men ever meet with impediments. Some cattle,
carts and waggons, were captured at Cambridge; a few horses
also were brought in; but the Indians killed or drove off all that
fell into their hands, unless they were paid in cash for their
prizes. “The country people of these parts,” writes the Hessian
narrator, “came in crowds to Governor Skene, as he was called,
and took the oath of allegiance; but even these faithless people,”
adds he, “were subsequently our bitterest assailants.”
Baum was too slow a man to take a place by surprise. The
people of Bennington heard of his approach and were on the
alert. The veteran Stark was there with eight or nine hundred
troops. During the late alarms the militia of the State had been
formed into two brigades, one to be commanded by General William
Whipple; Stark had with difficulty been prevailed upon to
accept the command of the other, upon the express condition that
he should not be obliged to join the main army, but should be
left to his own discretion, to make war in his own partisan style,
164hovering about the enemy in their march through the country,
and accountable to none but the authorities of New Hampshire.
General Lincoln had informed Stark of the orders of General
Schuyler, that all the militia should repair to Stillwater, but
the veteran refused to comply. He had taken up arms, he said,
in a moment of exigency, to defend the neighborhood, which
would be exposed to the ravages of the enemy, should he leave
it, and he held himself accountable solely to the authorities of
New Hampshire. This act of insubordination might have involved
the doughty but somewhat testy old general in subsequent
difficulty, had not his sword carved out an ample excuse for him.
Having heard that Indians had appeared at Cambridge,
twelve miles to the north of Bennington, on the 13th, he sent
out two hundred men under Colonel Gregg in quest of them. In
the course of the night he learnt that they were mere scouts in
advance of a force marching upon Bennington. He immediately
rallied his brigade, called out the militia of the neighborhood,
and sent off for Colonel Seth Warner (the quondam associate of
Ethan Allen) and his regiment of militia, who were with General
Lincoln at Manchester.
Lincoln instantly detached them, and Warner and his men
marched all night through drenching rain, arriving at Stark’s
camp in the morning, dripping wet.
Stark left them at Bennington to dry and rest themselves,
and then to follow on; in the mean time, he pushed forward
with his men to support the party sent out the preceding day,
under Gregg, in quest of the Indians. He met them about five
miles off in full retreat, Baum and his force a mile in their rear.
Stark halted and prepared for action. Baum also halted;
posted himself on a high ground at a bend of the little river
165Walloomscoick, and began to intrench himself. Stark fell back
a mile, to wait for reinforcements and draw down Baum from his
strong position. A skirmish took place between the advance
guards; thirty of Baum’s men were killed and two Indian
chiefs.
An incessant rain on the 15th prevented an attack on Baum’s
camp, but there was continual skirmishing. The colonel strengthened
his intrenchments, and finding he had a larger force to contend
with than he had anticipated, sent off in all haste to Burgoyne
for reinforcements. Colonel Breyman marched off immediately,
with five hundred Hessian grenadiers and infantry and
two six-pounders, leaving behind him his tents, baggage, and
standards. He, also, found the roads so deep, and the horses so
bad, that he was nearly two days getting four and twenty miles.
The tactics of the Hessians were against them. “So foolishly
attached were they to forms of discipline,” writes a British historian,
“that in marching through thickets they stopped ten times
an hour to dress their ranks.” It was here, in fact, that they
most dreaded the American rifle. “In the open field,” said they,
“the rebels are not much; but they are redoubtable in the
woods.”[56]
In the mean time the more alert and active Americans had
been mustering from all quarters to Stark’s assistance, with such
weapons as they had at hand. During the night of the 15th,
Colonel Symonds arrived with a body of Berkshire militia.
Among them was a belligerent parson, full of fight, Allen by
name, possibly of the bellicose family of the hero of Ticonderoga.
“General,” cried he, “the people of Berkshire have been
166often called out to no purpose; if you don’t give them a chance
to fight now they will never turn out again.” “You would not
turn out now, while it is dark and raining, would you?” demanded
Stark. “Not just now,” was the reply. “Well, if the
Lord should once more give us sunshine, and I don’t give you
fighting enough,” rejoined the veteran, “I’ll never ask you to
turn out again.”
On the following morning the sun shone bright, and Stark
prepared to attack Baum in his intrenchments; though he had
no artillery, and his men, for the most part, had only their ordinary
brown firelocks without bayonets. Two hundred of his men,
under Colonel Nichols, were detached to the rear of the enemy’s
left; three hundred under Colonel Herrick, to the rear of his
right; they were to join their forces and attack him in the rear,
while Colonels Hubbard and Stickney, with two hundred men,
diverted his attention in front.
Colonel Skene and the royalists, when they saw the Americans
issuing out of the woods on different sides, persuaded themselves,
and endeavored to persuade Baum, that these were the
royal people of the country flocking to his standard. The Indians
were the first to discover the truth. “The woods are full
of Yankees,” cried they, and retreated in single file between the
troops of Nichols and Herrick, yelling like demons and jingling
cow bells. Several of them, however, were killed or wounded
as they thus ran the gauntlet.
At the first sound of fire-arms, Stark, who had remained
with the main body in camp, mounted his horse and gave the
word, forward! He had promised his men the plunder of the
British camp. The homely speech made by him when in sight
167of the enemy, has often been cited. “Now, my men! There
are the red coats! Before night they must be ours, or Molly
Stark will be a widow!”
Baum soon found himself assailed on every side, but he defended
his works bravely. His two pieces of artillery, advantageously
planted, were very effective, and his troops, if slow in
march, were steady in action. For two hours the discharge of
fire-arms was said to have been like the constant rattling of the
drum. Stark in his despatches compared it to a “continued clap
of thunder.” It was the hottest fight he had ever seen. He
inspired his men with his own impetuosity. They drove the
royalist troops upon the Hessians, and pressing after them
stormed the works with irresistible fury. A Hessian eye-witness
declares that this time the rebels fought with desperation, pressing
within eight paces of the loaded cannon to take surer aim at
the artillerists. The latter were slain; the cannon captured.
The royalists and Canadians took to flight, and escaped to the
woods. The Germans still kept their ground, and fought bravely,
until there was not a cartridge left. Baum and his dragoons
then took to their broadswords and the infantry to their bayonets,
and endeavored to cut their way to a road in the woods, but
in vain; many were killed, more wounded, Baum among the number,
and all who survived were taken prisoners.[57]
The victors now dispersed, some to collect booty, some to
attend to the wounded, some to guard the prisoners, and some to
seek refreshment, being exhausted by hunger and fatigue. At
this critical juncture, Breyman’s tardy reinforcement came, making
its way heavily and slowly to the scene of action, joined by
168many of the enemy who had fled. Attempts were made to rally
the militia; but they were in complete confusion. Nothing would
have saved them from defeat, had not Colonel Seth Warner’s
corps fortunately arrived from Bennington, fresh from repose,
and advanced to meet the enemy, while the others regained their
ranks. It was four o’clock in the afternoon when this second
action commenced. It was fought from wood to wood and hill to
hill, for several miles, until sunset. The last stand of the enemy
was at Van Schaick’s mill, where, having expended all their ammunition,
of which each man had forty rounds, they gave way,
and retreated, under favor of the night, leaving two field-pieces
and all their baggage in the hands of the Americans. Stark
ceased to pursue them, lest in the darkness his men should fire
upon each other. “Another hour of daylight,” said he in his
report, “and I should have captured the whole body.” The
veteran had had a horse shot under him, but escaped without
wound or bruise.
Four brass field-pieces, nine hundred dragoon swords, a
thousand stand of arms, and four ammunition waggons were the
spoils of this victory. Thirty-two officers, five hundred and sixty-four
privates, including Canadians and loyalists, were taken
prisoners. The number of slain was very considerable, but could
not be ascertained; many having fallen in the woods. The
brave but unfortunate Baum did not long survive. The Americans
had one hundred killed and wounded.
Burgoyne was awakened in his camp towards daylight of the
17th, by tidings that Colonel Baum had surrendered. Next
came word that Colonel Breyman was engaged in severe and
doubtful conflict. The whole army was roused, and were preparing
to hasten to his assistance, when one report after another
169gave assurance that he was on his way back in safety. The main
body, therefore, remained in camp at the Batten kiln; but Burgoyne
forded that stream with the 47th regiment and pushed
forward until 4 o’clock, when he met Breyman and his troops,
weary and haggard with hard fighting and hard marching, in hot
weather. In the evening all returned to their old encampments.[58]
General Schuyler was encamped on Van Schaick’s Island at
the mouth of the Mohawk River, when a letter from General
Lincoln, dated Bennington, Aug. 18th, informed him of “the
capital blow given the enemy by General Stark.” “I trust,”
replies he, Aug. 19th, “that the severity with which they have
been handled will retard General Burgoyne’s progress. Part of
his force was yesterday afternoon about three miles and a half
above Stillwater. If the enemy have entirely left that part of
the country you are in, I think it would be advisable for you to
move towards Hudson River tending towards Stillwater.”
“Governor Clinton,” writes he to Stark on the same day, “is
coming up with a body of militia, and I trust that after what
the enemy have experienced from you, their progress will be
retarded, and that we shall see them driven out of this part of
the country.”
He now hoped to hear that Arnold had raised the siege of
Fort Stanwix. “If that take place,” said he, “it will be possible
to engage two or three hundred Indians to join this army, and
Congress may rest assured that my best endeavors shall not be
wanting to accomplish it.”
Tidings of the affair of Bennington reached Washington, just
170before he moved his camp from the neighborhood of Philadelphia
to Wilmington, and it relieved his mind from a world of anxious
perplexity. In a letter to Putnam he writes, “As there is not
now the least danger of General Howe’s going to New England,
I hope the whole force of that country will turn out, and, by
following the great stroke struck by General Stark near Bennington,
entirely crush General Burgoyne, who, by his letter to Colonel
Baum, seems to be in want of almost every thing.”
We will now give the fate of Burgoyne’s detachment, under
St. Leger, sent to capture Fort Stanwix, and ravage the valley
of the Mohawk.
CHAPTER XVII.
171
STRATAGEM OF ARNOLD TO RELIEVE FORT STANWIX—YAN YOST CUYLER—THE
SIEGE PRESSED—INDIANS INTRACTABLE—SUCCESS OF ARNOLD’S STRATAGEM—HARASSED
RETREAT OF ST. LEGER—MORAL EFFECT OF THE TWO
BLOWS GIVEN TO THE ENEMY—BRIGHTENING PROSPECTS IN THE AMERICAN
CAMP—ARRIVAL OF GATES—MAGNANIMOUS CONDUCT OF SCHUYLER—POORLY
REQUITED BY GATES—CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN GATES AND BURGOYNE
CONCERNING THE MURDER OF MISS MC CREA.
Arnold’s march to the relief of Fort Stanwix, was slower than
suited his ardent and impatient spirit. He was detained in the
valley of the Mohawk by bad roads, by the necessity of waiting
for baggage and ammunition waggons, and for militia recruits who
turned out reluctantly. He sent missives to Colonel Gansevoort
assuring him that he would relieve him in the course of a few
days. “Be under no kind of apprehension,” writes he. “I
know the strength of the enemy, and how to deal with them.”
In fact, conscious of the smallness of his force, he had resorted
to stratagem, sending emissaries ahead to spread exaggerated
reports of the number of his troops, so as to work on the
fears of the enemy’s Indian allies and induce them to desert.
The most important of these emissaries was one Yan Yost Cuyler,
an eccentric half-witted fellow, known throughout the country
as a rank tory. He had been convicted as a spy, and only
172spared from the halter on the condition that he would go into
St. Leger’s camp, and spread alarming reports among the Indians,
by whom he was well known. To insure a faithful discharge
of his mission, Arnold detained his brother as a hostage.
On his way up the Mohawk Valley, Arnold was joined by a
New York regiment, under Colonel James Livingston, sent by
Gates to reinforce him. On arriving at the German Flats he received
an express from Colonel Gansevoort, informing him that he
was still besieged, but in high spirits and under no apprehensions.
In a letter to Gates, written from the German Flats (August
21st), Arnold says, “I leave this place this morning with twelve
hundred Continental troops and a handful of militia for Fort
Schuyler, still besieged by a number equal to ours. You will
hear of my being victorious—or no more. As soon as the safety
of this part of the country will permit, I will fly to your assistance.”[59]
All this while St. Leger was advancing his parallels and pressing
the siege; while provisions and ammunition were rapidly
decreasing within the fort. St. Leger’s Indian allies, however,
were growing sullen and intractable. This slow kind of warfare,
this war with the spade, they were unaccustomed to, and they by
no means relished it. Beside, they had been led to expect easy
times, little fighting, many scalps, and much plunder; whereas
they had fought hard, lost many of their best chiefs, been checked
in their cruelty, and gained no booty.
At this juncture, scouts brought word that a force one thousand
strong was marching to the relief of the fort. Eager to put
his savages in action, St. Leger in a council of war offered to
173their chiefs to place himself at their head, with three hundred of
his best troops, and meet the enemy as they advanced. It was
agreed, and they sallied forth together to choose a fighting ground.
By this time rumors stole into the camp doubling the number of
the approaching enemy. Burgoyne’s whole army were said to
have been defeated. Lastly came Yan Yost Cuyler, with his
coat full of bullet holes, giving out that he had escaped from the
hands of the Americans, and had been fired upon by them. His
story was believed, for his wounded coat corroborated it, and he
was known to be a royalist. Mingling among his old acquaintances,
the Indians, he assured them that the Americans were close
at hand and “numerous as the leaves on the trees.”
Arnold’s stratagem succeeded. The Indians, fickle as the
winds, began to desert. Sir John Johnson and Colonels Claus
and Butler endeavored in vain to reassure and retain them. In
a little while two hundred had decamped, and the rest threatened
to do so likewise, unless St. Leger retreated.
The unfortunate colonel found too late what little reliance
was to be placed upon Indian allies. He determined on the 22d,
to send off his sick, his wounded, and his artillery by Wood Creek
that very night, and to protect them by the line of march. The
Indians, however, goaded on by Arnold’s emissaries, insisted on
instant retreat. St. Leger still refused to depart before nightfall.
The savages now became ungovernable. They seized upon
liquor of the officers about to be embarked, and getting intoxicated,
behaved like very fiends.
In a word, St. Leger was obliged to decamp about noon, in
such hurry and confusion that he left his tents standing, and his
artillery, with most of his baggage, ammunition and stores, fell
into the hands of the Americans.
174A detachment from the garrison pursued and harassed him
for a time; but his greatest annoyance was from his Indian allies,
who plundered the boats which conveyed such baggage as had
been brought off; murdered all stragglers who lagged in the
rear, and amused themselves by giving false alarms to keep up
the panic of the soldiery; who would throw away muskets, knapsacks,
and every thing that impeded their flight.
It was not until he reached Onondaga Falls, that St. Leger
discovered by a letter from Burgoyne, and floating reports
brought by the bearer, that he had been the dupe of a ruse de
guerre, and that at the time the advancing foe were reported to
be close upon his haunches, they were not within forty miles of
him.
Such was the second blow to Burgoyne’s invading army; but
before the news of it reached that doomed commander, he had
already been half paralyzed by the disaster at Bennington.
The moral effect of these two blows was such as Washington
had predicted. Fortune, so long adverse, seemed at length to
have taken a favorable turn. People were roused from their
despondency. There was a sudden exultation throughout the
country. The savages had disappeared in their native forests.
The German veterans, so much vaunted and dreaded, had been
vanquished by militia, and British artillery captured by men,
some of whom had never seen a cannon.
Means were now augmenting in Schuyler’s hands. Colonels
Livingston and Pierre van Cortlandt, forwarded by Putnam, were
arrived. Governor Clinton was daily expected with New York
militia from the Highlands. The arrival of Arnold was anticipated
with troops and artillery, and Lincoln with the New England
militia. At this propitious moment, when every thing was ready
175for the sickle to be put into the harvest, General Gates arrived
in the camp.
Schuyler received him with the noble courtesy to which he
pledged himself. After acquainting him with all the affairs of the
department, the measures he had taken and those he had projected;
he informed him of his having signified to Congress his intention
to remain in that quarter for the present, and render every
service in his power; and he entreated Gates to call upon him for
council and assistance whenever he thought proper.
Gates was in high spirits. His letters to Washington show
how completely he was aware that an easy path of victory had
been opened for him. “Upon my leaving Philadelphia,” writes
he, “the prospect this way appeared most gloomy, but the severe
checks the enemy have met with at Bennington and Tryon County,
have given a more pleasing view of public affairs. Particular
accounts of the signal victory gained by General Stark,
and of the severe blow General Herkimer gave Sir John Johnson
and the scalpers under his command, have been transmitted to
your Excellency by General Schuyler. I anxiously expect the
arrival of an express from General Arnold, with an account of
the total defeat of the enemy in that quarter.
“I cannot sufficiently thank your Excellency for sending Colonel
Morgan’s corps to this army. They will be of the greatest
service to it; for, until the late success this way, I am told the
army were quite panic-struck by the Indians, and their tory and
Canadian assassins in Indian dress.”
Governor Clinton was immediately expected in camp, and he
intended to consult with him and General Lincoln upon the best
plan to distress, and, he hoped, finally to defeat the enemy. “We
shall no doubt,” writes he, “unanimously agree in sentiment
176with your Excellency, to keep Generals Lincoln and Stark upon
the flank and rear of the enemy, while the main body opposes
them in front.”
Not a word does he say of consulting Schuyler, who, more
than any one else, was acquainted with the department and its
concerns, who was in constant correspondence with Washington,
and had co-operated with him in effecting the measures which had
produced the present promising situation of affairs. So far was
he from responding to Schuyler’s magnanimity, and profiting by
his nobly offered counsel and assistance, that he did not even ask
him to be present at his first council of war, although he invited
up General Ten Broeck of the militia from Albany to attend it.
His conduct in this respect provoked a caustic remark from
the celebrated Gouverneur Morris. “The commander-in-chief
of the Northern department,” said he, “may, if he please, neglect
to ask or disdain to receive advice, but those who know him will,
I am sure, be convinced that he wants it.”
Gates opened hostilities against Burgoyne with the pen. He
had received a letter from that commander, complaining of the
harsh treatment experienced by the royalists captured at Bennington.
“Duty and principle,” writes Burgoyne, “made me a
public enemy to the Americans who have taken up arms; but I
seek to be a generous one; nor have I the shadow of resentment
against any individual who does not induce it by acts derogatory
to those maxims upon which all men of honor think alike.”
There was nothing in this that was not borne out by the conduct
and character of Burgoyne; but Gates seized upon the occasion
to assail that commander in no measured terms in regard to
his Indian allies.
“That the savages,” said he, “should in their warfare mangle
177the unhappy prisoners who fall into their hands, is neither new or
extraordinary; but that the famous General Burgoyne, in whom
the fine gentleman is united with the scholar, should hire the savages
of America to scalp Europeans: nay more, that he should
pay a price for each scalp so barbarously taken, is more than will
be believed in Europe, until authenticated facts shall in every
gazette confirm the horrid tale.”
After this prelude, he went on to state the murder of Miss
McCrea, alleging that her murderer was employed by Burgoyne.
“Two parents,” added he, “with their six children, were treated
with the same inhumanity while quietly resting in their once happy
and peaceful dwelling. Upwards of one hundred men, women
and children, have perished by the hands of the ruffians, to whom
it is asserted you have paid the price of blood.”
Gates showed his letter to General Lincoln and Colonel Wilkinson,
who demurred to its personality; but he evidently conceived
it an achievement of the pen, and spurned their criticism.[60]
Burgoyne, in a manly reply, declared that he would have disdained
to justify himself from such rhapsodies of fiction and calumny,
but that his silence might be construed into an admission
of their truth, and lead to acts of retaliation. He pronounced all
the intelligence cited respecting the cruelties of the Indians to be
false, with the exception of the case of Miss McCrea. This he
put in its true light, adding, that it had been as sincerely lamented
178and abhorred by him, as it could be by the tenderest of her
friends. “I would not,” declared he, “be conscious of the acts
you presume to impute to me, for the whole continent of America;
though the wealth of worlds was in its bowels, and a paradise
upon its surface.”
We have already shown what was the real conduct of Burgoyne
in this deplorable affair, and General Gates could and should
have ascertained it, before “he presumed to impute” to a gallant
antagonist and a humane and cultivated gentleman, such base and
barbarous policy. It was the government under which Burgoyne
served that was chargeable with the murderous acts of the savages.
He is rather to be pitied for being obliged to employ such hellhounds,
whom he endeavored in vain to hold in check. Great
Britain reaped the reward of her policy in the odium which it
cast upon her cause, and the determined and successful opposition
which it provoked in the American bosom.
We will now shift the scene to Washington’s camp at Wilmington,
where we left him watching the operations of the British
fleet, and preparing to oppose the army under Sir William Howe
in its designs upon Philadelphia.
CHAPTER XVIII.
179
LANDING OF HOWE’S ARMY ON ELK RIVER—MEASURES TO CHECK IT—EXPOSED
SITUATION OF WASHINGTON IN RECONNOITRING—ALARM OF THE COUNTRY—PROCLAMATION
OF HOWE—ARRIVAL OF SULLIVAN—FOREIGN OFFICERS
IN CAMP—DEBORRE—CONWAY—FLEURY—COUNT PULASKI—FIRST APPEARANCE
IN THE ARMY OF ‘LIGHT-HORSE HARRY’ OF VIRGINIA—WASHINGTON’S
APPEAL TO THE ARMY—MOVEMENTS OF THE RIVAL FORCES—BATTLE
OF THE BRANDYWINE—RETREAT OF THE AMERICANS—HALT IN CHESTER—SCENES
IN PHILADELPHIA DURING THE BATTLE—CONGRESS ORDERS OUT
MILITIA—CLOTHES WASHINGTON WITH EXTRAORDINARY POWERS—REMOVES
TO LANCASTER—REWARDS TO FOREIGN OFFICERS.
On the 25th of August, the British army under General Howe
began to land from the fleet in Elk River, at the bottom of Chesapeake
Bay. The place where they landed was about six miles
below the Head of Elk (now Elkton), a small town, the capital
of Cecil County. This was seventy miles from Philadelphia;
ten miles further from that city than they had been when
encamped at Brunswick. The intervening country, too, was less
open than the Jerseys, and cut up by deep streams. Sir William
had chosen this circuitous route in the expectation of finding
friends among the people of Cecil County, and of the lower
counties of Pennsylvania; many of whom were Quakers and
non-combatants, and many persons disaffected to the patriot
cause.
180Early in the evening, Washington received intelligence that
the enemy were landing. There was a quantity of public and
private stores at the Head of Elk, which he feared would fall
into their hands if they moved quickly. Every attempt was
to be made to check them. The divisions of Generals Greene
and Stephen were within a few miles of Wilmington; orders
were sent for them to march thither immediately. The two
other divisions, which had halted at Chester to refresh, were to
hurry forward. Major-general Armstrong, the same who had
surprised the Indian village of Kittaning in the French war, and
who now commanded the Pennsylvania militia, was urged to send
down, in the cool of the night, all the men he could muster, properly
armed. “The first attempt of the enemy,” writes Washington,
“will be with light parties to seize horses, carriages and
cattle, and we must endeavor to check them at the outset.”
General Rodney, therefore, who commanded the Delaware
militia, was ordered to throw out scouts and patrols toward the
enemy to watch their motions; and to move near them with his
troops, as soon as he should be reinforced by the Maryland
militia.
Light troops were sent out early in the morning to hover
about and harass the invaders. Washington himself, accompanied
by General Greene and the Marquis de Lafayette and
their aides, rode forth to reconnoitre the country in the neighborhood
of the enemy, and determine how to dispose of his forces
when they should be collected. The only eminences near Elk
were Iron Hill and Gray’s Hill; the latter within two miles of
the enemy. It was difficult, however, to get a good view of their
encampment, and judge of the number that had landed. Hours
were passed in riding from place to place reconnoitring, and taking
181a military survey of the surrounding country. At length a
severe storm drove the party to take shelter in a farm house.
Night came on dark and stormy. Washington showed no disposition
to depart. His companions became alarmed for his safety,
there was risk of his being surprised, being so near the enemy’s
camp. He was not to be moved either by advice or entreaties,
but remained all night under the farmer’s roof. When he left
the house at daybreak, however, says Lafayette, he acknowledged
his imprudence, and that the most insignificant traitor might have
caused his ruin.
Indeed, he ran a similar risk to that which in the previous
year had produced General Lee’s catastrophe.
The country was in a great state of alarm. The inhabitants
were hurrying off their most valuable effects, so that it was difficult
to procure cattle and vehicles to remove the public stores.
The want of horses, and the annoyances given by the American
light troops, however, kept Howe from advancing promptly, and
gave time for the greater part of the stores to be saved.
To allay the public alarm, Howe issued a proclamation on the
27th, promising the strictest regularity and order on the part of
his army; with security of person and property to all who remained
quietly at home, and pardon to those under arms, who
should promptly return to their obedience. The proclamation
had a quieting effect, especially among the loyalists, who
abounded in these parts.
The divisions of Generals Greene and Stephen were now
stationed several miles in advance of Wilmington, behind White
Clay Creek, about ten miles from the Head of Elk. General
Smallwood and Colonel Gist had been directed by Congress to
take command of the militia of Maryland, who were gathering
182on the western shore, and Washington sent them orders to co-operate
with General Rodney and get in the rear of the enemy.
Washington now felt the want of Morgan and his riflemen,
whom he had sent to assist the Northern army; to supply their
place, he formed a corps of light troops, by drafting a hundred
men from each brigade. The command was given to Major-general
Maxwell, who was to hover about the enemy and give
them continual annoyance.
The army about this time was increased by the arrival of
General Sullivan and his division of three thousand men. He
had recently, while encamped at Hanover in Jersey, made a
gallant attempt to surprise and capture a corps of one thousand
provincials stationed on Staten Island, at a distance from the
fortified camp, and opposite the Jersey shore. The attempt was
partially successful; a number of the provincials were captured;
but the regulars came to the rescue. Sullivan had not brought
sufficient boats to secure a retreat. His rear-guard was captured
while waiting for the return of the boats, yet not without a sharp
resistance. There was loss on both sides, but the Americans
suffered most. Congress had directed Washington to appoint a
court of inquiry to investigate the matter; in the mean time,
Sullivan, whose gallantry remained undoubted, continued in command.
There were now in camp several of those officers and gentlemen
from various parts of Europe who had recently pressed into
the service, and the suitable employment of whom had been a
source of much perplexity to Washington. General Deborre,
the French veteran of thirty years’ service, commanded a brigade
in Sullivan’s division. Brigadier-general Conway, the Gallicized
Hibernian, was in the division of Lord Stirling. Beside these,
183there was Louis Fleury, a French gentleman of noble descent,
who had been educated as an engineer, and had come out at the
opening of the Revolution to offer his services. Washington had
obtained for him a captain’s commission. Another officer of distinguished
merit, was the Count Pulaski, a Pole, recommended
by Dr. Franklin, as an officer famous throughout Europe for his
bravery and conduct in defence of the liberties of his country
against Russia, Austria, and Prussia. In fact, he had been commander-in-chief
of the forces of the insurgents. He served at
present as a volunteer in the light-horse, and as that department
was still without a head, and the cavalry was a main object of
attention among the military of Poland, Washington suggested
to Congress the expediency of giving him the command of it.
“This gentleman, we are told,” writes Washington, “has been,
like us, engaged in defending the liberty and independence of his
country, and has sacrificed his fortune to his zeal for those
objects. He derives from hence a title to our respect, that ought
to operate in his favor as far as the good of the service will
permit.”
At this time Henry Lee of Virginia, of military renown,
makes his first appearance. He was in the twenty-second year
of his age, and in the preceding year had commanded a company
of Virginia volunteers. He had recently signalized himself in
scouting parties, harassing the enemy’s pickets. Washington, in
a letter to the President of Congress (Aug. 30th), writes:
“This minute twenty-four British prisoners arrived, taken yesterday
by Captain Lee of the light-horse.” His adventurous
exploits soon won him notoriety, and the popular appellation of
“Light-horse Harry.” He was favorably noticed by Washington
throughout the war. Perhaps there was something beside
184his bold, dashing spirit, which won him this favor. There may
have been early recollections connected with it. Lee was the son
of the lady who first touched Washington’s heart in his schoolboy
days, the one about whom he wrote rhymes at Mount Vernon
and Greenway Court—his “lowland beauty.”
Several days were now passed by the commander-in-chief
almost continually in the saddle, reconnoitring the roads and
passes, and making himself acquainted with the surrounding
country; which was very much intersected by rivers and small
streams, running chiefly from north-west to south-east. He had
now made up his mind to risk a battle in the open field. It is
true his troops were inferior to those of the enemy in number,
equipments, and discipline. Hitherto, according to Lafayette,
“they had fought combats, but not battles.” Still those combats
had given them experience; and though many of them were
militia, or raw recruits, yet the divisions of the army had
acquired a facility at moving in large masses, and were considerably
improved in military tactics. At any rate, it would never
do to let Philadelphia, at that time the capital of the States, fall
without a blow. There was a carping spirit abroad; a disposition
to cavil and find fault, which was prevalent in Philadelphia, and
creeping into Congress; something of the nature of what had
been indulged respecting General Schuyler and the army of the
North. Public impatience called for a battle; it was expected
even by Europe; his own valiant spirit required it; though
hitherto he had been held in check by superior considerations of
expediency, and by the controlling interference of Congress.
Congress itself now spurred him on, and he gave way to the
native ardor of his character.
The British army having effected a landing, in which, by the
185way, it had experienced but little molestation, was formed into
two divisions. One, under Sir William Howe, was stationed at
Elkton, with its advanced guard at Gray’s Hill, about two miles
off. The other division, under General Knyphausen, was on the
opposite side of the ferry, at Cecil Court House. On the third
of September the enemy advanced in considerable force, with
three field-pieces, moving with great caution, as the country was
difficult, woody, and not well known to them. About three miles
in front of White Clay Creek, their vanguard was encountered
by General Maxwell and his light troops, and a severe skirmish
took place. The fire of the American sharpshooters and riflemen,
as usual, was very effective; but being inferior in number,
and having no artillery, Maxwell was compelled to retreat across
White Clay Creek, with the loss of about forty killed and
wounded. The loss of the enemy was supposed to be much
greater.
The main body of the American army was now encamped on
the east side of Red Clay Creek, on the road leading from Elkton
to Philadelphia. The light-infantry were in the advance, at
White Clay Creek. The armies were from eight to ten miles
apart. In this position, Washington determined to await the
threatened attack.
On the 5th of September he made a stirring appeal to the
army, in his general orders, stating the object of the enemy, the
capture of Philadelphia. They had tried it before, from the
Jerseys, and had failed. He trusted they would be again disappointed.
In their present attempt their all was at stake. The
whole would be hazarded in a single battle. If defeated in that,
they were totally undone, and the war would be at an end. Now
then was the time for the most strenuous exertions. One bold
186stroke would free the land from rapine, devastation, and brutal
outrage. “Two years,” said he, “have we maintained the war,
and struggled with difficulties innumerable, but the prospect has
brightened. Now is the time to reap the fruit of all our toils
and dangers; if we behave like men this third campaign will be
our last.” Washington’s numerical force at this time was about
fifteen thousand men, but from sickness and other causes the
effective force, militia included, did not exceed eleven thousand,
and most of these indifferently armed and equipped. The
strength of the British was computed at eighteen thousand men,
but, it is thought, not more than fifteen thousand were brought
into action.
On the 8th, the enemy advanced in two columns; one appeared
preparing to attack the Americans in front, while the
other extended its left up the west side of the creek, halting
at Milltown, somewhat to the right of the American position.
Washington now suspected an intention on the part of Sir William
Howe to march by his right, suddenly pass the Brandywine,
gain the heights north of that stream, and cut him off from
Philadelphia. He summoned a council of war, therefore, that
evening, in which it was determined immediately to change their
position, and move to the river in question. By two o’clock in
the morning, the army was under march, and by the next evening
was encamped on the high grounds in the rear of the Brandywine.
The enemy on the same evening moved to Kennet Square,
about seven miles from the American position.
The Brandywine Creek, as it is called, commences with two
branches, called the East and West branches, which unite in one
stream, flowing from west to east about twenty-two miles, and
emptying itself into the Delaware about twenty-five miles below
187Philadelphia. It has several fords; one called Chadd’s Ford,
was at that time the most practicable, and in the direct route
from the enemy’s camp to Philadelphia. As the principal attack
was expected here, Washington made it the centre of his position,
where he stationed the main body of his army, composed of
Wayne’s, Weedon’s, and Muhlenberg’s brigades, with the light-infantry
under Maxwell. An eminence immediately above the
ford, had been intrenched in the night, and was occupied by
Wayne and Proctor’s artillery. Weedon’s and Muhlenberg’s
brigades, which were Virginian troops, and formed General
Greene’s division, were posted in the rear on the heights, as a
reserve to aid either wing of the army. With these Washington
took his stand. Maxwell’s light-infantry were thrown in the
advance, south of the Brandywine, and posted on high ground
each side of the road leading to the ford.
The right wing of the army commanded by Sullivan, and
composed of his division and those of Stephen and Stirling,
extended up the Brandywine two miles beyond Washington’s
position. Its light troops and videttes were distributed quite up
to the forks. A few detachments of ill-organized and undisciplined
cavalry, extended across the creek on the extreme right.
The left wing, composed of the Pennsylvania militia, under
Major-general Armstrong, was stationed about a mile and a half
below the main body, to protect the lower fords, where the least
danger was apprehended. The Brandywine, which ran in front
of the whole line, was now the only obstacle, if such it might be
called, between the two armies.
Early on the morning of the 11th, a great column of troops
was descried advancing on the road leading to Chadd’s Ford. A
skirt of woods concealed its force, but it was supposed to be
188the main body of the enemy; if so, a general conflict was at
hand.
The Americans were immediately drawn out in order of
battle. Washington rode along the front of the ranks, and was
every where received with acclamations. A sharp firing of
small-arms soon told that Maxwell’s light-infantry were engaged
with the vanguard of the enemy. The skirmishing was kept up
for some time with spirit, when Maxwell was driven across the
Brandywine below the ford. The enemy, who had advanced but
slowly, did not attempt to follow, but halted on commanding
ground, and appeared to reconnoitre the American position with a
view to an attack. A heavy cannonading commenced on both
sides, about ten o’clock. The enemy made repeated dispositions
to force the ford, which brought on as frequent skirmishes on
both sides of the river, for detachments of the light troops occasionally
crossed over. One of these skirmishes was more than
usually severe: the British flank-guard was closely pressed, a
captain and ten or fifteen men were killed, and the guard was put
to flight; but a large force came to their assistance, and the
Americans were again driven across the stream. All this while,
there was the noise and uproar of a battle; but little of the
reality. The enemy made a great thundering of cannon, but no
vigorous onset, and Colonel Harrison, Washington’s “old secretary,”
seeing this cautious and dilatory conduct on their part,
wrote a hurried note to Congress, expressing his confident belief
that the enemy would be repulsed.
Towards noon came an express from Sullivan, with a note
received from a scouting party, reporting that General Howe,
with a large body of troops and a park of artillery, was pushing
189up the Lancaster road, doubtless to cross at the upper fords and
turn the right flank of the American position.
Startled by the information, Washington instantly sent off
Colonel Theodoric Bland, with a party of horse, to reconnoitre
above the forks and ascertain the truth of the report. In the
mean time, he resolved to cross the ford, attack the division in
front of him with his whole force, and rout it before the other
could arrive. He gave orders for both wings to co-operate,
when, as Sullivan was preparing to cross, Major Spicer of the
militia rode up, just from the forks, and assured him there was
no enemy in that quarter. Sullivan instantly transmitted the
intelligence to Washington, whereupon the movement was suspended
until positive information could be obtained. After a
time came a man of the neighborhood, Thomas Cheyney by
name, spurring in all haste, the mare he rode in foam, and himself
out of breath. Dashing up to the commander-in-chief, he
informed him that he must instantly move, or he would be surrounded.
He had come upon the enemy unawares; had been
pursued and fired upon, but the fleetness of his mare had saved
him. The main body of the British was coming down on the
east side of the stream, and was near at hand. Washington
replied, that, from information just received, it could not be so.
“You are mistaken, general,” replied the other vehemently; “my
life for it, you are mistaken.” Then reiterating the fact with an
oath, and making a draft of the road in the sand, “put me under
guard,” added he, “until you find my story true.”
Another despatch from Sullivan corroborated it. Colonel
Bland, whom Washington had sent to reconnoitre above the
forks, had seen the enemy two miles in the rear of Sullivan’s
190right, marching down at a rapid rate, while a cloud of dust
showed that there were more troops behind them.
In fact, the old Long Island stratagem had been played over
again. Knyphausen with a small division had engrossed the attention
of the Americans by a feigned attack at Chadd’s Ford, kept
up with great noise and prolonged by skirmishes; while the main
body of the army under Cornwallis, led by experienced guides,
had made a circuit of seventeen miles, crossed the two forks of
the Brandywine, and arrived in the neighborhood of Birmingham
meeting-house, two miles to the right of Sullivan. It was a
capital stratagem, secretly and successfully conducted.
Finding that Cornwallis had thus gained the rear of the
army, Washington sent orders to Sullivan to oppose him with the
whole right wing, each brigade attacking as soon as it arrived
upon the ground. Wayne, in the mean time, was to keep Knyphausen
at bay at the ford, and Greene, with the reserve, to hold
himself ready to give aid wherever required.
Lafayette, as a volunteer, had hitherto accompanied the commander-in-chief,
but now, seeing there was likely to be warm
work with the right wing, he obtained permission to join Sullivan;
and spurred off with his aide-de-camp to the scene of action.
From his narrative, we gather some of the subsequent details.
191
Sullivan, on receiving Washington’s orders, advanced with his
own, Stephen’s and Stirling’s divisions, and began to form a line
in front of an open piece of wood. The time which had been
expended in transmitting intelligence, receiving orders, and marching,
had enabled Cornwallis to choose his ground and prepare for
action. Still more time was given him from the apprehension
of the three generals, upon consultation, of being outflanked upon
the right; and that the gap between Sullivan’s and Stephen’s divisions
192was too wide, and should be closed up. Orders were accordingly
given for the whole line to move to the right; and while
in execution, Cornwallis advanced rapidly with his troops in the
finest order, and opened a brisk fire of musketry and artillery.
The Americans made an obstinate resistance, but being taken at a
disadvantage, the right and left wings were broken and driven into
the woods. The centre stood firm for a while, but being exposed to
the whole fire of the enemy, gave way at length also. The British,
in following up their advantage, got entangled in the wood. It was
here that Lafayette received his wound. He had thrown himself
from his horse and was endeavoring to rally the troops, when he
was shot through the leg with a musket ball, and had to be assisted
into the saddle by his aide-de-camp.
The Americans rallied on a height to the north of Dilworth,
and made a still more spirited resistance than at first, but were
again dislodged and obliged to retreat with a heavy loss.
While this was occurring with the right wing, Knyphausen,
as soon as he learnt from the heavy firing that Cornwallis was
engaged, made a push to force his way across Chadd’s Ford in
earnest. He was vigorously opposed by Wayne with Proctor’s
artillery, aided by Maxwell and his infantry. Greene was preparing
to second him with the reserve, when he was summoned
by Washington to the support of the right wing; which the commander-in-chief
had found in imminent peril.
Greene advanced to the relief with such celerity, that it is
said, on good authority, his division accomplished the march, or
rather run, of five miles, in less than fifty minutes. He arrived
too late to save the battle, but in time to protect the broken
masses of the left wing, which he met in full flight. Opening his
ranks from time to time for the fugitives, and closing them the
193moment they had passed, he covered their retreat by a sharp and
well-directed fire from his field-pieces. His grand stand was
made at a place about a mile beyond Dilworth, which, in reconnoitring
the neighborhood, Washington had pointed out to him,
as well calculated for a second position, should the army be
driven out of the first; and here he was overtaken by Colonel
Pinckney, an aide-de-camp of the commander-in-chief, ordering
him to occupy this position and protect the retreat of the army.
The orders were implicitly obeyed. Weedon’s brigade was
drawn up in a narrow defile, flanked on both sides by woods, and
perfectly commanding the road; while Greene, with Muhlenberg’s
brigade, passing to the right took his station on the road.
The British came on impetuously, expecting but faint opposition.
They met with a desperate resistance and were repeatedly driven
back. It was the bloody conflict of the bayonet; deadly on
either side, and lasting for a considerable time. Weedon’s
brigade on the left maintained its stand also with great obstinacy,
and the check given to the enemy by these two brigades, allowed
time for the broken troops to retreat. Weedon’s was at length
compelled by superior numbers to seek the protection of the other
brigade, which he did in good order, and Greene gradually drew
off the whole division in face of the enemy, who, checked by this
vigorous resistance, and seeing the day far spent, gave up all
further pursuit.
The brave stand made by these brigades had, likewise, been a
great protection to Wayne. He had for a long time withstood the
attacks of the enemy at Chadd’s Ford, until the approach on the
right, of some of the enemy’s troops who had been entangled in
the woods, showed him that the right wing had been routed. He
now gave up the defence of his post, and retreated by the Chester
194road. Knyphausen’s troops were too fatigued to pursue him;
and the others had been kept back, as we have shown, by
Greene’s division. So ended the varied conflict of the day.
Lafayette gives an animated picture of the general retreat, in
which he became entangled. He had endeavored to rejoin Washington,
but loss of blood compelled him to stop and have his
wound bandaged. While thus engaged, he came near being
captured. All around him was headlong terror and confusion.
Chester road, the common retreat of the broken fragments of the
army, from every quarter, was crowded with fugitives, with cannon,
with baggage cars, all hurrying forward pell-mell, and
obstructing each other; while the thundering of cannon, and
volleying of musketry by the contending parties in the rear,
added to the confusion and panic of the flight.
The dust, the uproar, and the growing darkness, threw every
thing into chaos; there was nothing but a headlong struggle forward.
At Chester, however, twelve miles from the field of
battle, there was a deep stream with a bridge, over which the
fugitives would have to pass. Here Lafayette set a guard to
prevent their further flight. The commander-in-chief, arriving
soon after with Greene and his gallant division, some degree
of order was restored, and the whole army took its post behind
Chester for the night.
The scene of this battle, which decided the fate of Philadelphia,
was within six and twenty miles of that city, and each discharge
of cannon could be heard there. The two parties of the
inhabitants, whig and tory, were to be seen in separate groups in
the squares and public places, waiting the event in anxious
silence. At length a courier arrived. His tidings spread consternation
among the friends of liberty. Many left their homes;
195entire families abandoned every thing in terror and despair, and
took refuge in the mountains. Congress, that same evening,
determined to quit the city and repair to Lancaster, whence they
subsequently removed to Yorktown. Before leaving Philadelphia,
however, they summoned the militia of Pennsylvania, and the
adjoining States, to join the main army without delay; and
ordered down fifteen hundred Continental troops from Putnam’s
command on the Hudson. They also clothed Washington with
power to suspend officers for misbehavior; to fill up all vacancies
under the rank of brigadiers; to take all provisions, and other
articles necessary for the use of the army, paying, or giving certificates
for the same; and to remove, or secure for the benefit of
the owners, all goods and effects which might otherwise fall into the
hands of the enemy and be serviceable to them. These extraordinary
powers were limited to the circumference of seventy miles
round head-quarters, and were to continue in force sixty days,
unless sooner revoked by Congress.
It may be as well here to notice in advance, the conduct of
Congress toward some of the foreigners who had mingled in this
battle. Count Pulaski, the Polish nobleman, heretofore mentioned,
who acted with great spirit as a volunteer in the light-horse,
riding up within pistol shot of the enemy to reconnoitre,
was given a command of cavalry with the rank of brigadier-general.
Captain Louis Fleury, also, who had acquitted himself
with gallantry, and rendered essential aid in rallying the troops,
having had a horse killed under him, was presented by Congress
with another, as a testimonial of their sense of his merit.
Lafayette speaks, in his memoirs, of the brilliant manner in
which General Conway, the chevalier of St. Louis, acquitted
himself at the head of eight hundred men, in the encounter with
196the troops of Cornwallis near Birmingham meeting-house. The
veteran Deborre was not equally fortunate in gaining distinction
on this occasion. In the awkward change of position in the line
when in front of the enemy, he had been the first to move, and
without waiting for orders. The consequence was, his brigade
fell into confusion, and was put to flight. He endeavored to rally
it, and was wounded in the attempt; but his efforts were in vain.
Congress ordered a court of inquiry on his conduct, whereupon
he resigned his commission, and returned to France, complaining
bitterly of his hard treatment. “It was not his fault,” he said,
“if American troops would run away.”
CHAPTER XIX.
197
GENERAL HOWE NEGLECTS TO PURSUE HIS ADVANTAGE—WASHINGTON RETREATS
TO GERMANTOWN—RECROSSES THE SCHUYLKILL AND PREPARES
FOR ANOTHER ACTION—PREVENTED BY STORMS OF RAIN—RETREATS TO
FRENCH CREEK—WAYNE DETACHED TO FALL ON THE ENEMY’S REAR—HIS
PICKETS SURPRISED—MASSACRE OF WAYNE’S MEN—MANOEUVRES OF
HOWE ON THE SCHUYLKILL—WASHINGTON SENDS FOR REINFORCEMENTS—HOWE
MARCHES INTO PHILADELPHIA.
Notwithstanding the rout and precipitate retreat of the American
army, Sir William Howe did not press the pursuit, but passed
the night on the field of battle, and remained the two following
days at Dilworth, sending out detachments to take post at Concord
and Chester, and seize on Wilmington, whither the sick and
wounded were conveyed. “Had the enemy marched directly to
Derby,” observes Lafayette, “the American army would have
been cut up and destroyed; they lost a precious night, and it is
perhaps the greatest fault in a war in which they have committed
many.”[61]
Washington, as usual, profited by the inactivity of Howe;
quietly retreating through Derby (on the 12th) across the Schuylkill
to Germantown, within a short distance of Philadelphia,
where he gave his troops a day’s repose. Finding them in good
198spirits, and in nowise disheartened by the recent affair, which
they seemed to consider a check rather than a defeat, he resolved
to seek the enemy again and give him battle. As preliminary
measures, he left some of the Pennsylvania militia in Philadelphia
to guard the city; others, under General Armstrong, were posted
at the various passes of the Schuylkill, with orders to throw up
works; the floating bridge on the lower road was to be unmoored,
and the boats collected and taken across the river.
Having taken these precautions against any hostile movement
by the lower road, Washington recrossed the Schuylkill on the
14th, and advanced along the Lancaster road, with the intention
of turning the left flank of the enemy. Howe, apprised of his
intention, made a similar disposition to outflank him. The two
armies came in sight of each other, near the Warren Tavern,
twenty-three miles from Philadelphia, and were on the point of
engaging, but were prevented by a violent storm of rain, which
lasted for four and twenty hours.
This inclement weather was particularly distressing to the
Americans; who were scantily clothed, most of them destitute
of blankets, and separated from their tents and baggage. The
rain penetrated their cartridge-boxes and the ill-fitted locks of
their muskets, rendering the latter useless, being deficient in
bayonets. In this plight, Washington gave up for the present all
thought of attacking the enemy, as their discipline in the use of
the bayonet, with which they were universally furnished, would
give them a great superiority in action. “The hot-headed politicians,”
writes one of his officers, “will no doubt censure this
part of his conduct, while the more judicious will approve it, as
not only expedient, but, in such a case, highly commendable. It
was, without doubt, chagrining to a person of his fine feelings, to
199retreat before an enemy not more in number than himself; yet,
with a true greatness of spirit, he sacrificed them to the good of
his country.”[62] There was evidently a growing disposition again
to criticise Washington’s movements, yet how well did this
officer judge of him.
The only aim, at present, was to get to some dry and secure
place, where the army might repose and refit. All day, and for a
great part of the night, they marched under a cold and pelting rain,
and through deep and miry roads, to the Yellow Springs, thence
to Warwick, on French Creek; a weary march in stormy weather
for troops destitute of every comfort, and nearly a thousand of
them actually barefooted. At Warwick furnace, ammunition and
a few muskets were obtained, to aid in disputing the passage of
the Schuylkill, and the advance of the enemy on Philadelphia.
From French Creek, Wayne was detached with his division,
to get in the rear of the enemy, form a junction with General
Smallwood and the Maryland militia, and, keeping themselves
concealed, watch for an opportunity to cut off Howe’s baggage
and hospital train; in the mean time, Washington crossed the
Schuylkill at Parker’s Ford, and took a position to defend that
pass of the river.
Wayne set off in the night, and, by a circuitous march, got
within three miles of the left wing of the British encamped at
Tredyffrin, and concealing himself in a wood, waited the arrival
of Smallwood and his militia. At daybreak he reconnoitred the
camp, where Howe, checked by the severity of the weather, had
contented himself with uniting his columns, and remained under
shelter. All day Wayne hovered about the camp; there were no
200signs of marching; all kept quiet, but lay too compact to be
attacked with prudence. He sent repeated messages to Washington,
describing the situation of the enemy, and urging him to
come on and attack them in their camp. “Their supineness,”
said he in one of his notes, “answers every purpose of giving you
time to get up: if they attempt to move, I shall attack them at
all events. * * * * There never was, nor never will be, a
finer opportunity of giving the enemy a fatal blow than at
present. For God’s sake push on as fast as possible.”
Again, at a later hour, he writes: “The enemy are very
quiet, washing and cooking. I expect General Maxwell on the
left flank every moment, and, as I lay on the right, we only want
you in their rear to complete Mr. Howe’s business. I believe he
knows nothing of my situation, as I have taken every precaution
to prevent any intelligence getting to him, at the same time
keeping a watchful eye on his front, flanks and rear.”
His motions, however, had not been so secret as he imagined.
He was in a part of the country full of the disaffected, and Sir
William had received accurate information of his force and where
he was encamped. General Grey, with a strong detachment, was
sent to surprise him at night in his lair. Late in the evening,
when Wayne had set his pickets and sentinels, and thrown out
his patrols, a countryman brought him word of the meditated
attack. He doubted the intelligence, but strengthened his pickets
and patrols, and ordered his troops to sleep upon their arms.
At eleven o’clock, the pickets were driven in at the point of
the bayonet—the enemy were advancing in column. Wayne
instantly took post on the right of his position, to cover the
retreat of the left, led by Colonel Humpton, the second in command.
The latter was tardy, and incautiously paraded his troops
201in front of their fires, so as to be in full relief. The enemy rushed
on without firing a gun; all was the silent, but deadly work of
the bayonet and the cutlass. Nearly three hundred of Humpton’s
men were killed or wounded, and the rest put to flight.
Wayne gave the enemy some well-directed volleys, and then
retreating to a small distance, rallied his troops, and prepared
for further defence. The British, however, contented themselves
with the blow they had given, and retired with very little loss,
taking with them between seventy and eighty prisoners, several
of them officers, and eight baggage waggons, heavily laden.
General Smallwood, who was to have co-operated with Wayne,
was within a mile of him at the time of his attack; and would
have hastened to his assistance with his well-known intrepidity;
but he had not the corps under his command with which he had
formerly distinguished himself, and his raw militia fled in a panic
at the first sight of a return party of the enemy.
Wayne was deeply mortified by the result of this affair, and,
finding it severely criticised in the army, demanded a court-martial,
which pronounced his conduct every thing that was to be
expected from an active, brave, and vigilant officer; whatever
blame there was in the matter fell upon his second in command,
who, by delay, or misapprehension of orders, and an unskilful
position of his troops, had exposed them to be massacred.
On the 21st, Sir William Howe made a rapid march high up
the Schuylkill, on the road leading to Reading, as if he intended
either to capture the military stores deposited there, or to turn
the right of the American army. Washington kept pace with
him on the opposite side of the river, up to Pott’s Grove, about
thirty miles from Philadelphia.
The movement on the part of Howe was a mere feint. No
202sooner had he drawn Washington so far up the river, than, by a
rapid countermarch on the night of the 22d, he got to the ford
below, threw his troops across on the next morning, and pushed forward
for Philadelphia. By the time Washington was apprised of
this counter movement, Howe was too far on his way to be overtaken
by harassed, barefooted troops, worn out by constant marching.
Feeling the necessity of immediate reinforcements, he wrote
on the same day to Putnam at Peekskill: “The situation of our
affairs in this quarter calls for every aid and for every effort. I
therefore desire that, without a moment’s loss of time, you will
detach as many effective rank and file, under proper generals and
officers, as will make the whole number, including those with
General McDougall, amount to twenty-five hundred privates and
non-commissioned fit for duty.
“I must urge you, by every motive, to send this detachment
without the least possible delay. No considerations are to prevent
it. It is our first object to defeat, if possible, the army now
opposed to us here.”
On the next day (24th) he wrote also to General Gates,
“This army has not been able to oppose General Howe’s with the
success that was wished, and needs a reinforcement. I therefore
request, if you have been so fortunate as to oblige General Burgoyne
to retreat to Ticonderoga, or if you have not, and circumstances
will admit, that you will order Colonel Morgan to join me
again with his corps. I sent him up when I thought you materially
wanted him; and, if his services can be dispensed with now,
you will direct his immediate return.”
Having called a council of officers and taken their opinions,
which concurred with his own, Washington determined to remain
203some days at Pott’s Grove, to give repose to his troops, and await
the arrival of reinforcements.
Sir William Howe halted at Germantown, within a short distance
of Philadelphia, and encamped the main body of his army
in and about that village; detaching Lord Cornwallis with a
large force and a number of officers of distinction, to take formal
possession of the city. That general marched into Philadelphia
on the 26th, with a brilliant staff and escort, and followed by
splendid legions of British and Hessian grenadiers, long trains
of artillery and squadrons of light-dragoons, the finest troops in
the army all in their best array; stepping to the swelling music
of the band playing God save the King, and presenting with their
scarlet uniforms, their glittering arms and flaunting feathers, a
striking contrast to the poor patriot troops, who had recently
passed through the same streets, weary and way-worn, and happy
if they could cover their raggedness with a brown linen hunting-frock,
and decorate their caps with a sprig of evergreen.
In this way the British took possession of the city, so long
the object of their awkward attempts, and regarded by them as a
triumphant acquisition; having been the seat of the general government;
the capital of the confederacy. Washington maintained
his characteristic equanimity. “This is an event,” writes
he to Governor Trumbull, “which we have reason to wish had
not happened, and which will be attended with several ill consequences;
but I hope it will not be so detrimental as many apprehend,
and that a little time and perseverance will give us some
favorable opportunity of recovering our loss, and of putting our
affairs in a more flourishing condition.”
He had heard of the prosperous situation of affairs in the
Northern Department, and the repeated checks given to the
204enemy. “I flatter myself,” writes he, “we shall soon hear that
they have been succeeded by other fortunate and interesting
events, as the two armies, by General Gates’s letter, were encamped
near each other.”
We will now revert to the course of the campaign in that
quarter, the success of which he trusted would have a beneficial
influence on the operations in which he was personally engaged.
Indeed the operations in the Northern Department formed, as we
have shown, but a part of his general scheme, and were constantly
present to his thoughts. His generals had each his own individual
enterprise, or his own department to think about; Washington
had to think for the whole.
CHAPTER XX.
205
DUBIOUS POSITION OF BURGOYNE—COLLECTS HIS FORCES—LADIES OF DISTINCTION
IN HIS CAMP—LADY HARRIET ACKLAND—THE BARONESS DE RIEDESEL—AMERICAN
ARMY REINFORCED—SILENT MOVEMENTS OF BURGOYNE—WATCHED
FROM THE SUMMIT OF THE HILLS—HIS MARCH ALONG THE HUDSON—POSITION
OF THE TWO CAMPS—BATTLE OF THE 19TH SEPT.—BURGOYNE
ENCAMPS NEARER—FORTIFIES HIS CAMP—PROMISED CO-OPERATION
BY SIR HENRY CLINTON—DETERMINES TO AWAIT IT—QUARREL BETWEEN
GATES AND ARNOLD—ARNOLD DEPRIVED OF COMMAND—BURGOYNE WAITS
FOR CO-OPERATION.
The checks which Burgoyne had received on right and left, and,
in a great measure, through the spontaneous rising of the country,
had opened his eyes to the difficulties of his situation, and the
errors as to public feeling into which he had been led by his
tory counsellors. “The great bulk of the country is undoubtedly
with the Congress in principle and zeal,” writes he, “and their
measures are executed with a secrecy and despatch that are not
to be equalled. Wherever the king’s forces point, militia, to the
amount of three or four thousand, assemble in twenty-four hours:
they bring with them their subsistence, &c., and, the alarm over,
they return to their farms. The Hampshire Grants, in particular,
a country unpeopled and almost unknown last war, now
abounds in the most active and most rebellious race of the continent,
and hangs like a gathering storm upon my left.” What a
206picture this gives of a patriotic and warlike yeomanry. He
complains, too, that no operation had yet been undertaken in his
favor; the Highlands of the Hudson had not even been threatened:
the consequence was that two brigades had been detached
from them to strengthen the army of Gates, strongly posted near
the mouth of the Mohawk River, with a superior force of Continental
troops, and as many militia as he pleased.
Burgoyne declared, that had he any latitude in his orders, he
would remain where he was, or perhaps fall back to Fort Edward,
where his communication with Lake George would be secure, and
wait for some event that might assist his movement forward; his
orders, however, were positive to force a junction with Sir William
Howe. He did not feel at liberty, therefore, to remain inactive
longer than would be necessary to receive the reinforcements of
the additional companies, the German drafts and recruits actually
on Lake Champlain, and to collect provisions enough for twenty-five
days. These reinforcements were indispensable, because,
from the hour he should pass the Hudson River and proceed
towards Albany, all safety of communication would cease.
“I yet do not despair,” adds he, manfully. “Should I succeed
in forcing my way to Albany, and find that country in a
state to subsist my army, I shall think no more of a retreat, but,
at the worst, fortify there, and await Sir William’s operations.”[63]
A feature of peculiar interest is given to this wild and rugged
expedition, by the presence of two ladies of rank and refinement,
involved in its perils and hardships. One was Lady Harriet
Ackland, daughter of the Earl of Ilchester, and wife of Major
Ackland of the grenadiers; the other was the Baroness De
207Riedesel, wife of the Hessian major-general. Both of these
ladies had been left behind in Canada. Lady Harriet, however,
on hearing that her husband was wounded in the affair at Hubbardton,
instantly set out to rejoin him, regardless of danger, and
of her being in a condition before long to become a mother.
Crossing the whole length of Lake Champlain, she found him
in a sick bed at Skenesborough. After his recovery, she refused
to leave him, but had continued with the army ever since. Her
example had been imitated by the Baroness De Riedesel, who had
joined the army at Fort Edward, bringing with her her three
small children. The friendship and sympathy of these two ladies
in all scenes of trial and suffering, and their devoted attachment
to their husbands, afford touching episodes in the story of the
campaign. When the army was on the march, they followed a
little distance in the rear, Lady Harriet in a two-wheeled tumbril,
the Baroness in a calash, capable of holding herself, her children,
and two servants. The latter has left a journal of her campaigning,
which we may occasionally cite. “They moved,” she says,
“in the midst of soldiery, who were full of animation, singing
camp songs, and panting for action. They had to travel through
almost impassable woods; in a picturesque and beautiful region;
but which was almost abandoned by its inhabitants, who had
hastened to join the American army.” “They added much to its
strength,” observes she, “as they were all good marksmen, and
the love of their country inspired them with more than ordinary
courage.”[64]
The American army had received various reinforcements: the
most efficient was Morgan’s corps of riflemen, sent by Washington.
208He had also furnished it with artillery. It was now about
ten thousand strong. Schuyler, finding himself and his proffered
services slighted by Gates, had returned to Albany. His patriotism
was superior to personal resentments. He still continued to
promote the success of the campaign, exerting his influence over
the Indian tribes, to win them from the enemy. At Albany, he
held talks and war feasts with deputations of Oneida, Tuscarora,
and Onondaga warriors; and procured scouting parties of them,
which he sent to the camp, and which proved of great service.
His former aide-de-camp, Colonel Brockholst Livingston, and his
secretary, Colonel Varick, remained in camp, and kept him informed
by letter of passing occurrences. They were much about
the person of General Arnold, who, since his return from relieving
Fort Stanwix, commanded the left wing of the army. Livingston,
in fact, was with him as aide-de-camp. The jealousy of
Gates was awakened by these circumstances. He knew their
attachment to Schuyler, and suspected they were prejudicing the
mind of Arnold against him; and this suspicion may have been
the origin of a coolness and neglect which he soon evinced toward
Arnold himself. These young officers, however, though devotedly
attached to Schuyler from a knowledge of his generous character,
were above any camp intrigue. Livingston was again looking
forward with youthful ardor to a brush with the enemy; but regretted
that his former chief would not be there to lead it.
“Burgoyne,” writes he to Schuyler exultingly, “is in such a situation,
that he can neither advance nor retire without fighting.
A capital battle must soon be fought. I am chagrined to the
soul when I think that another person will reap the fruits of your
labors.”[65]
209Colonel Varick, equally eager, was afraid Burgoyne might be
decamping. “His evening guns,” writes he, “are seldom heard,
and when heard, are very low in sound.”[66]
The dense forests, in fact, which covered the country between
the hostile armies, concealed their movements, and as Gates threw
out no harassing parties, his information concerning the enemy
was vague. Burgoyne, however, was diligently collecting all his
forces from Skenesborough, Fort Anne and Fort George, and
collecting provisions; he had completed a bridge by which he intended
to pass the Hudson, and force his way to Albany, where
he expected co-operation from below. Every thing was conducted
with as much silence and caution as possible. His troops
paraded without beat of drum, and evening guns were discontinued.
So stood matters on the 11th of September, when a
report was circulated in the American camp, that Burgoyne was
in motion, and that he had made a speech to his soldiers, telling
them that the fleet had returned to Canada, and their only safety
was to fight their way to New York.
As General Gates was to receive an attack, it was thought he
ought to choose the ground where to receive it; Arnold, therefore,
in company with Kosciuszko, the Polish engineer, reconnoitred
the neighborhood in quest of a good camping ground, and at
length fixed upon a ridge of hills called Bemis’s Heights, which
Kosciuszko proceeded to fortify.
In the mean time, Colonel Colburn was sent off with a small
party to ascend the high hills on the east side of the Hudson, and
watch the movements of the enemy with glasses from their summits,
or from the tops of the trees. For three days he kept thus
210on the look-out, sending word from time to time to camp of all
that he espied.
On the 11th there were the first signs of movement among
Burgoyne’s troops. On the 13th and 14th, they slowly passed
over a bridge of boats, which they had thrown across the Hudson,
and encamped near Fish Creek. Colburn counted eight hundred
tents, including marquees. A mile in advance were fourteen more
tents. The Hessians remained encamped on the eastern side of
the river, but intervening woods concealed the number of their
tents. There was not the usual stir of military animation in the
camps. There were no evening nor morning guns.
On the 15th, both English and Hessian camps struck their
tents, and loaded their baggage waggons. By twelve o’clock both
began to march. Colburn neglected to notice the route taken by
the Hessians; his attention was absorbed by the British, who
made their way slowly and laboriously down the western side of
the river, along a wretched road intersected by brooks and rivulets,
the bridges over which Schuyler had broken down. The
division had with it eighty-five baggage waggons and a great train
of artillery; with two unwieldy twenty-four-pounders, acting like
drag anchors. It was a silent, dogged march, without beat of
drum, or spirit-stirring bray of trumpet. A body of light troops,
new levies, and Indians, painted and decorated for war, struck
off from the rest and disappeared in the forest, up Fish Creek.
From the great silence observed by Burgoyne in his movements,
and the care he took in keeping his men together, and allowing no
straggling parties, Colonel Colburn apprehended that he meditated
an attack. Having seen the army advance two miles on its
march, therefore, he descended from the heights, and hastened to
the American camp to make his report. A British prisoner,
211brought in soon afterwards, stated that Burgoyne had come to a
halt about four miles distant.
On the following morning, the army was under arms at daylight;
the enemy, however, remained encamped, repairing bridges
in front, and sending down guard boats to reconnoitre; the
Americans, therefore, went on to fortify their position. The ridge
of hills called Bemis’s Heights, rises abruptly from the narrow
flat bordering the west side of the river. Kosciuszko had fortified
the camp with intrenchments three quarters of a mile in extent,
having redoubts and batteries, which commanded the valley,
and even the hills on the opposite side of the river; for the
Hudson, in this upper part, is comparatively a narrow stream.
From the foot of the height, an intrenchment extended to the
river, ending with a battery at the water edge, commanding a
floating bridge.
The right wing of the army, under the immediate command
of Gates, and composed of Glover’s, Nixon’s, and Patterson’s
brigades, occupied the brow of the hill nearest to the river, with
the flats below.
The left wing, commanded by Arnold, was on the side of the
camp furthest from the river, and distant from the latter about
three quarters of a mile. It was composed of the New Hampshire
brigade of General Poor, Pierre Van Courtlandt’s and James
Livingston’s regiments of New York militia, the Connecticut
militia, Morgan’s riflemen, and Dearborn’s infantry. The centre
was composed of Massachusetts and New York troops.
Burgoyne gradually drew nearer to the camp, throwing out
large parties of pioneers and workmen. The Americans disputed
every step. A Hessian officer observes: “The enemy bristled
up his hair, as we attempted to repair more bridges. At last,
212we had to do him the honor of sending out whole regiments to
protect our workmen.”[67]
It was Arnold who provoked this honor. At the head of
fifteen hundred men he skirmished bravely with the superior force
sent out against him, and retired with several prisoners.
Burgoyne now encamped about two miles from General Gates,
disposing his army in two lines; the left on the river, the right
extending at right angles to it, about six hundred yards, across
the low grounds to a range of steep and rocky hills, occupied by
the élite; a ravine formed by a rivulet from the hills passed in
front of the camp. The low ground between the armies was
cultivated; the hills were covered with woods, excepting three or
four small openings and deserted farms. Beside the ravines
which fronted each camp there was a third one, midway between
them, also at right angles to the river.[68]
On the morning of the 19th, General Gates received intelligence
that the enemy were advancing in great force on his left.
It was, in fact, their right wing, composed of the British line and
led by Burgoyne in person. It was covered by the grenadiers
and light-infantry under General Fraser and Colonel Breyman,
who kept along the high grounds on the right; while they, in
turn, were covered in front and on the flanks by Indians, provincial
royalists and Canadians. The left wing and artillery were
advancing at the same time, under Major-general Phillips and
Riedesel, along the great road and meadows by the river side,
but they were retarded by the necessity of repairing broken
bridges. It was the plan of Burgoyne, that the Canadians and
Indians should attack the central outposts of the Americans, and
213draw their attention in that direction, while he and Fraser,
making a circuit through the woods, should join forces and fall
upon the rear of the American camp. As the dense forests hid
them from each other, signal-guns were to regulate their movements.
Three, fired in succession, were to denote that all was
ready, and be the signal for an attack in front, flank and rear.
The American pickets, stationed along the ravine of Mill
Creek, sent repeated accounts to General Gates of the movements
of the enemy; but he remained quiet in his camp as if determined
to await an attack. The American officers grew impatient.
Arnold especially, impetuous by nature, urged repeatedly that a
detachment should be sent forth to check the enemy in their advance,
and drive the Indians out of the woods. At length he
succeeded in getting permission, about noon, to detach Morgan
with his riflemen and Dearborn with his infantry from his division.
They soon fell in with the Canadians and Indians, which
formed the advance guard of the enemy’s right, and attacking
them with spirit, drove them in, or rather dispersed them. Morgan’s
riflemen, following up their advantage with too much
eagerness, became likewise scattered, and a strong reinforcement
of royalists arriving on the scene of action, the Americans, in
their turn, were obliged to give way.
Other detachments now arrived from the American camp, led
by Arnold, who attacked Fraser on his right, to check his attempt
to get in the rear of the camp. Finding the position of Fraser
too strong to be forced, he sent to head-quarters for reinforcements,
but they were refused by Gates, who declared that no
more should go; “he would not suffer his camp to be exposed.”[69]214The reason he gave was that it might be attacked by the enemy’s
left wing.
Arnold now made a rapid countermarch, and, his movement
being masked by the woods, suddenly attempted to turn Fraser’s
left. Here he came in full conflict with the British line, and
threw himself upon it with a boldness and impetuosity that for a
time threatened to break it, and cut the wings of the army asunder.
The grenadiers and Breyman’s riflemen hastened to its
support. General Phillips broke his way through the woods with
four pieces of artillery, and Riedesel came on with his heavy
dragoons. Reinforcements came likewise to Arnold’s assistance;
his force, however, never exceeded three thousand men, and with
these, for nearly four hours, he kept up a conflict almost hand to
hand, with the whole right wing of the British army. Part of
the time the Americans had the advantage of fighting under the
cover of a wood, so favorable to their militia and sharpshooters
Burgoyne ordered the woods to be cleared by the bayonet. His
troops rushed forward in columns with a hurra! The Americans
kept within their intrenchments, and repeatedly repulsed them;
but, if they pursued their advantage, and advanced into open
field, they were in their turn driven back.
Night alone put an end to a conflict, which the British acknowledged
to have been the most obstinate and hardly fought
they had ever experienced in America. Both parties claimed the
victory. But, though the British remained on the field of battle,
where they lay all night upon their arms, they had failed in their
object; they had been assailed instead of being the assailants;
while the American troops had accomplished the purpose for which
they had sallied forth; had checked the advance of the enemy,
frustrated their plan of attack, and returned exulting to their
215camp. Their loss, in killed and wounded, was between three and
four hundred, including several officers; that of the enemy upwards
of five hundred.
Burgoyne gives an affecting picture of the situation of the
ladies of rank already mentioned, during this action. Lady
Harriet had been directed by her husband, Major Ackland, to
follow the route of the artillery and baggage, which was not exposed.
“At the time the action began,” writes Burgoyne, “she
found herself near a small uninhabited hut, where she alighted.
When it was found the action was becoming general and bloody,
the surgeons of the hospital took possession of the same place, as
the most convenient for the first care of the wounded. Thus was
the lady in hearing of one continued fire of cannon and musketry,
for four hours together, with the presumption, from the post of
her husband at the head of the grenadiers, that he was in the
most exposed part of the action. She had three female companions,
the Baroness of Riedesel, and the wives of two British
officers, Major Harnage and Lieutenant Reynell; but in the
event their presence served but little for comfort. Major Harnage
was soon brought to the surgeons very badly wounded; and
in a little time after came intelligence that Lieutenant Reynell
was shot dead. Imagination wants no helps to figure the state
of the whole group.”
Arnold was excessively indignant at Gates’s withholding the
reinforcements he had required in the heat of the action; had
they been furnished, he said, he might have severed the line of
the enemy and gained a complete victory. He was urgent to
resume the action on the succeeding morning, and follow up the
advantage he had gained, but Gates declined, to his additional
annoyance. He attributed the refusal to pique or jealousy, but
216Gates subsequently gave as a reason the great deficiency of powder
and ball in the camp, which was known only to himself, and
which he kept secret until a supply was sent from Albany.
Burgoyne now strengthened his position with intrenchments
and batteries, part of them across the meadows which bordered
the river, part on the brow of the heights which commanded
them. The Americans likewise extended and strengthened their
line of breastworks on the left of the camp; the right was already
unassailable. The camps were within gunshot, but with ravines
and woods between them.
Washington’s predictions of the effect to be produced by
Morgan’s riflemen approached fulfilment. The Indians, dismayed
at the severe treatment experienced from these veteran bush
fighters, were disappearing from the British camp. The Canadians
and royal provincials, “mere trimmers,” as Burgoyne called
them, were deserting in great numbers, and he had no confidence
in those who remained.
His situation was growing more and more critical. On the
21st, he heard shouts in the American camp, and in a little while
their cannon thundered a feu de joie. News had been received
from General Lincoln, that a detachment of New England troops
under Colonel Brown had surprised the carrying-place, mills, and
French lines at Ticonderoga, captured an armed sloop, gunboats
and bateaux, made three hundred prisoners, beside releasing one
hundred American captives, and were laying siege to Fort Independence.[70]
Fortunately for Burgoyne, while affairs were darkening in the
North, a ray of hope dawned from the South. While the shouts
217from the American camp were yet ringing in his ears, came a
letter in cipher from Sir Henry Clinton, dated the 12th of September,
announcing his intention in about ten days to attack the
forts in the Highlands of the Hudson.
Burgoyne sent back the messenger the same night, and despatched,
moreover, two officers in disguise, by different routes, all
bearing messages informing Sir Henry of his perilous situation,
and urging a diversion that might oblige General Gates to detach
a part of his army; adding, that he would endeavor to maintain
his present position, and await favorable events until the 12th of
October.[71]
The jealousy of Gates had been intensely excited at finding
the whole credit of the late affair given by the army to Arnold:
in his despatches to government he made no mention of him.
This increased the schism between them. Wilkinson, the adjutant-general,
who was a sycophantic adherent of Gates, pandered
to his pique by withdrawing from Arnold’s division Morgan’s rifle
corps and Dearborn’s light-infantry, its arm of strength, which
had done such brilliant service in the late affair: they were
henceforth to be subject to no order but those from head-quarters.
Arnold called on Gates on the evening of the 22d, to remonstrate.
High words passed between them, and matters came
to an open rupture. Gates, in his heat, told Arnold that he did
not consider him a major-general, he having sent his resignation
to Congress—that he had never given him the command of any
division of the army—that General Lincoln would arrive in a day
or two, and then he would have no further occasion for him, and
would give him a pass to go to Philadelphia, whenever he chose.[72]
218Arnold returned to his quarters in a rage, and wrote a note
to Gates requesting the proffered permit to depart for Philadelphia;
by the time he received it his ire had cooled and he had
changed his mind. He determined to remain in camp and abide
the anticipated battle.
Lincoln, in the mean time, arrived in advance of his troops;
which soon followed to the amount of two thousand. Part of
the troops, detached by him under Colonel Brown, were besieging
Ticonderoga and Fort Independence. Colonel Brown himself,
with part of his detachment, had embarked on Lake George in
an armed schooner and a squadron of captured gunboats and
bateaux, and was threatening the enemy’s deposit of baggage and
heavy artillery at Diamond Island. The toils so skilfully spread
were encompassing Burgoyne more and more; the gates of Canada
were closing behind him.
A morning or two after Lincoln’s arrival, Arnold observed
him giving some directions in the left division, and quickly inquired
whether he was doing so by order of General Gates; being
answered in the negative, he observed that the left division
belonged to him; and that he believed his (Lincoln’s) proper
station was on the right, and that of General Gates ought to be
in the centre. He requested him to mention this to General
Gates, and have the matter adjusted.
“He is determined,” writes Varick, “not to suffer any one to
interfere in his division, and says it will be death to any officer
who does so in action.” Arnold, in fact, was in a bellicose vein,
and rather blustered about the camp. Gates, he said, could not
refuse him his command, and he would not yield it now that a
battle was expected.
Some of the general officers and colonels of his division proposed
219to make him an address, thanking him for his past services
particularly in the late action, and entreating him to stay. Others
suggested that the general officers should endeavor to produce a
reconciliation between the jarring parties. Lincoln was inclined
to do so; but, in the end, neither measure was taken through
fear of offending General Gates. In the mean time Arnold
remained in camp, treated, he said, as a cipher, and never consulted;
though when Congress had sent him to that department,
at the request of General Washington, they expected the commander
would at least have taken his opinion on public matters.
On the 30th, he gave vent to his feelings in an indignant
letter to Gates. “Notwithstanding I have reason to think your
treatment proceeds from a spirit of jealousy,” writes he, “and
that I have every thing to fear from the malice of my enemies,
conscious of my own innocency and integrity, I am determined to
sacrifice my feelings, present peace and quiet, to the public good,
and continue in the army at this critical juncture, when my country
needs every support.
“I hope,” concludes he, “you will not impute this hint to a
wish to command the army, or to outshine you, when I assure you
it proceeds from my zeal for the cause of my country, in which
I expect to rise or fall.”[73]
All this time the Americans were harassing the British camp
with frequent night alarms and attacks on its pickets and outposts.
“From the 20th of September to the 7th of October,” writes
Burgoyne, “the armies were so near, that not a night passed
without firing, and sometimes concerted attacks upon our advanced
pickets. I do not believe either officer or soldier ever slept in
220that interval without his clothes; or that any general officer or
commander of a regiment passed a single night, without being
upon his legs occasionally at different hours, and constantly an
hour before daylight.”[74]
Still Burgoyne kept up a resolute mien, telling his soldiers,
in a harangue, that he was determined to leave his bones on the
field, or force his way to Albany. He yet clung to the hope, that
Sir Henry Clinton might operate in time to relieve him from his
perilous position.
We will now cast a look toward New York, and ascertain the
cause of Sir Henry’s delay in his anxiously expected operations
on the Hudson.
CHAPTER XXI.
221
PREPARATIONS OF SIR HENRY CLINTON—STATE OF THE HIGHLAND DEFENCES—PUTNAM
ALARMED—ADVANCE OF THE ARMAMENT UP THE HUDSON—PLAN
OF SIR HENRY CLINTON—PEEKSKILL THREATENED—PUTNAM DECEIVED—SECRET
MARCH OF THE ENEMY THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS—FORTS
MONTGOMERY AND CLINTON OVERPOWERED—NARROW ESCAPE OF
THE COMMANDERS—CONFLAGRATION AND EXPLOSION OF THE AMERICAN
FRIGATES—RALLYING EFFORTS OF PUTNAM AND GOVERNOR CLINTON—THE
SPY AND THE SILVER BULLET—ESOPUS BURNT—RAVAGING PROGRESS OF
THE ENEMY UP THE HUDSON.
The expedition of Sir Henry Clinton had awaited the arrival
of reinforcements from Europe, which were slowly crossing the
ocean in Dutch bottoms. At length they arrived, after a three
months’ voyage, and now there was a stir of warlike preparation
at New York; the streets were full of soldiery, the bay full of
ships; and water craft of all kinds were plying about the harbor.
Between three and four thousand men were to be embarked on
board of ships of war, armed galleys and flat-bottomed boats.
A southern destination was given out, but shrewd observers surmised
the real one.
The defences of the Highlands, on which the security of the
Hudson depended, were at this time weakly garrisoned; some
of the troops having been sent off to reinforce the armies on the
222Delaware and in the North. Putnam, who had the general command
of the Highlands, had but eleven hundred continental and
four hundred militia troops with him at Peekskill, his head-quarters.
There was a feeble garrison at Fort Independence, in
the vicinity of Peekskill, to guard the public stores and workshops
at Continental Village.
The Highland forts, Clinton, Montgomery, and Constitution,
situated among the mountains and forming their main defence,
were no better garrisoned, and George Clinton, who had the command
of them, and who was in a manner the champion of the
Highlands, was absent from his post, attending the State Legislature
at Kingston (Esopus), in Ulster County, in his capacity
of governor.
There were patriot eyes in New York to watch the course of
events, and patriot boats on the river to act as swift messengers.
On the 29th of September Putnam writes to his coadjutor the
governor: “I have received intelligence on which I can fully
depend, that the enemy had received a reinforcement at New
York last Thursday, of about three thousand British and foreign
troops; that General Clinton has called in guides who belong
about Croton River; has ordered hard bread to be baked; that
the troops are called from Paulus Hook to King’s Bridge, and
the whole troops are now under marching orders. I think it
highly probable the designs of the enemy are against the posts of
the Highlands, or of some part of the counties of Westchester or
Dutchess.” Under these circumstances he begged a reinforcement
of the militia to enable him to maintain his post, and intimated
a wish for the personal assistance and counsel of the governor.
In a postscript, he adds: “The ships are drawn up in the river,
223and I believe nothing prevents them from paying us an immediate
visit, but a contrary wind.”
On receiving this letter the governor forthwith hastened to
his post in the Highlands, with such militia force as he could
collect. We have heretofore spoken of his Highland citadel
Fort Montgomery, and of the obstructions of chain, boom, and
chevaux-de-frise between it and the opposite promontory of Anthony’s
Nose, with which it had been hoped to barricade the
Hudson. The chain had repeatedly given way under the pressure
of the tide, but the obstructions were still considered efficient,
and were protected by the guns of the fort, and of two frigates
and two armed galleys anchored above.
Fort Clinton had subsequently been erected within rifle shot
of Fort Montgomery, to occupy ground which commanded it.
A deep ravine and stream called Peploep’s Kill, intervened between
the two forts, across which there was a bridge. The governor
had his head-quarters in Fort Montgomery, which was the
northern and largest fort, but its works were unfinished. His
brother James had charge of Fort Clinton, which was complete.
The whole force to garrison the associate forts did not exceed six
hundred men, chiefly militia, but they had the veteran Colonel
Lamb of the artillery with them, who had served in Canada,
and a company of his artillerists was distributed in the two
forts.
The armament of Sir Henry Clinton, which had been waiting
for a wind, set sail in the course of a day or two and stood up the
Hudson, dogged by American swift-rowing whale-boats. Late
at night of the 4th of October came a barge across the river
from Peekskill to Fort Montgomery, bearing a letter from Putnam
to the governor. “This morning,” writes he, “we had information
224from our guard boats, that there were two ships of war, three
tenders, and a large number of flat-bottomed boats, coming up the
river. They proceeded up as far as Tarrytown, where they
landed their men. This evening they were followed by one large
man-of-war, five topsail vessels, and a large number of small craft.
I have sent off parties to examine their route and harass their
march, if prudent. By information from several different quarters,
we have reason to believe they intend for this post. They
are now making up, as we hear, for the Croton Bridge.”[75]
The landing of troops at Tarrytown was a mere feint on the
part of Sir Henry to distract the attention of the Americans;
after marching a few miles into the country, they returned and
re-embarked; the armament continued across the Tappan Sea
and Haverstraw Bay to Verplanck’s Point, where, on the 5th,
Sir Henry landed with three thousand men about eight miles
below Peekskill.
Putnam drew back to the hills in the rear of the village, to
prepare for the expected attack, and sent off to Governor Clinton
for all the troops he could spare. So far the manœuvres of Sir
Henry Clinton had been successful. It was his plan to threaten
an attack on Peekskill and Fort Independence, and, when he had
drawn the attention of the American commanders to that quarter,
to land troops on the western shore of the Hudson, below
the Dunderberg (Thunder Hill), make a rapid march through
the defiles behind that mountain to the rear of Forts Montgomery
and Clinton, come down on them by surprise, and carry them by
a coup de main.
Accordingly at an early hour of the following morning, taking
225advantage of a thick fog, he crossed with two thousand men to
Stony Point, on the west shore of the river, leaving about a thousand
men, chiefly royalists, at Verplanck’s Point, to keep up a
threatening aspect towards Peekskill. Three frigates, also, were
to stand up what is called the Devil’s Horse Race into Peekskill
Bay, and station themselves within cannon shot of Fort Independence.
The crossing of the troops had been dimly descried from
Peekskill, but they were supposed to be a mere detachment from
the main body on a maraud.
Having accomplished his landing, Sir Henry, conducted by a
tory guide, set out on a forced and circuitous march of several
miles by rugged defiles, round the western base of the Dunderberg.
At the entrance of the pass he left a small force to guard
it, and keep up his communication with the ships. By eight
o’clock in the morning he had effected his march round the Dunderberg,
and halted on the northern side in a ravine, between it
and a conical mount called Bear Hill. The possibility of an
enemy’s approach by this pass had been noticed by Washington
in reconnoitring the Highlands, and he had mentioned it in his
instructions to Generals Greene and Knox, when they were sent
to make their military survey, but they considered it impracticable,
from the extreme difficulty of the mountain passes. It is
in defiance of difficulties, however, that surprises are apt to be
attempted, and the most signal have been achieved in the face
of seeming impossibilities.
In the ravine between the Dunderberg and Bear Hill, Sir
Henry divided his forces. One division, nine hundred strong,
led by Lieutenant-colonel Campbell, was to make a circuit
through the forest round the western side of Bear Hill, so as to
226gain the rear of Fort Montgomery. After Sir Henry had allowed
sufficient time for them to make the circuit, he was to proceed
with the other division down the ravine, towards the river,
turn to the left along a narrow strip of land between the Hudson
and a small lake called Sinipink Pond, which lay at the foot of
Bear Hill, and advance upon Fort Clinton. Both forts were to
be attacked at the same time.
The detachment under Campbell set off in high spirits; it
was composed partly of royalists, led by Colonel Beverly Robinson
of New York, partly of Emerick’s chasseurs, and partly of
grenadiers, under Lord Rawdon, then about twenty-four years
of age, who had already seen service at Bunker’s Hill. With
him went Count Gabrouski, a Polish nobleman, aide-de-camp to
Sir Henry Clinton, but who had sought to accompany his friend,
Lord Rawdon, in this wild mountain scramble. Every thing thus
far had been conducted with celerity and apparent secrecy, and
complete surprise of both forts was anticipated. Sir Henry had,
indeed, outwitted one of the guardians of the Highlands, but the
other was aware of his designs. Governor Clinton, on receiving
intelligence of ships of war coming up the Hudson, had sent
scouts beyond the Dunderberg to watch their movements. Early
on the present morning, word had been brought him that forty
boats were landing a large force at Stony Point. He now, in
his turn, apprehended an attack, and sent to Putnam for reinforcements,
preparing, in the mean time, to make such defence as
his scanty means afforded.
A lieutenant was sent out with thirty men from Fort Clinton,
to proceed along the river-road and reconnoitre. He fell in with
the advance guard of Sir Henry Clinton’s division, and retreated
skirmishing to the fort. A larger detachment was sent out to
227check the approach of the enemy on this side; while sixty men,
afterwards increased to a hundred, took post with a brass field-piece
in the Bear Hill defile.
It was a narrow and rugged pass, bordered by shagged forests.
As Campbell and his division came pressing forward, they were
checked by the discharge of fire-arms and of the brass field-piece,
which swept the steep defile. The British troops then filed off
on each side into the woods, to surround the Americans. The
latter, finding it impossible to extricate their field-piece in the
rugged pass, spiked it, and retreated into the fort, under cover
of the fire of a twelve-pounder, with which Lamb had posted
himself on the crest of a hill.
Sir Henry Clinton had met with equally obstinate opposition
in his approach to Fort Clinton; the narrow strip of land between
Lake Sinipink and the Hudson, along which he advanced,
being fortified by an abatis. By four o’clock the Americans were
driven within their works, and both forts were assailed. The
defence was desperate; for Governor Clinton was a hard fighter,
and he was still in hopes of reinforcements from Putnam; not
knowing that the messenger he sent to him had turned traitor,
and deserted to the enemy.
About five o’clock, he was summoned to surrender in five
minutes, to prevent the effusion of blood: the reply was a refusal.
About ten minutes afterwards, there was a general attack
upon both forts. It was resisted with obstinate spirit. The
action continued until dusk. The ships under Commodore
Hotham approached near enough to open an irregular fire upon
the forts, and upon the vessels anchored above the chevaux-de-frise.
The latter returned the fire; and the flash and roar of
their cannonry in the gathering darkness and among the echoes
228of the mountains increased the terrors of the strife. The works,
however, were too extensive to be manned by the scanty garrisons;
they were entered by different places and carried at the
point of the bayonet; the Americans fought desperately from
one redoubt to another; some were slain, some taken prisoners,
and some escaped under cover of the night to the river or the
mountains. “The garrison,” writes Clinton, significantly, “had
to fight their way out as many as could, as we determined not to
surrender.”
His brother James was saved from a deadly thrust of a bayonet,
by a garrison orderly book in his pocket; but he received a
flesh-wound in the thigh. He slid down a precipice, one hundred
feet high, into the ravine between the forts, and escaped to the
woods. The governor leaped down the rocks to the river side,
where a boat was putting off with a number of the fugitives.
They turned back to receive him, but he generously refused to
endanger their safety, as the boat was already loaded to the gunwale.
It was only on receiving assurance of its being capable
of bearing his additional weight, that he consented to enter.
The boat crossed the Hudson in safety, and before midnight the
governor was with Putnam, at Continental Village, concerting
further measures.
Putnam had been completely outmanœuvred by Sir Henry
Clinton. He had continued until late in the morning, in the
belief that Peekskill and Fort Independence were to be the objects
of attack. His pickets and scouts could not ascertain the
number of the enemy remaining on the east side of the river; a
large fire near Stony Point made him think the troops which had
crossed were merely burning storehouses; while ships, galleys,
and flat-bottomed boats seemed preparing to land forces at Fort
229Independence and Peekskill. In the course of the morning he
sallied forth with Brigadier-general Parsons, to reconnoitre the
ground near the enemy. After their return they were alarmed,
he says, by “a very heavy and hot firing both of small-arms and
cannon, at Fort Montgomery,” which must have made a tremendous
uproar among the echoes of the Dunderberg. Aware of
the real point of danger, he immediately detached five hundred
men to reinforce the garrison. They had six miles to march
along the eastern shore, and then to cross the river; before they
could do so the fate of the forts was decided.
British historians acknowledge, that the valor and resolution
displayed by the Americans in the defence of these forts were in
no instance exceeded during the war; their loss in killed, wounded
and missing, was stated at two hundred and fifty, a large proportion
of the number engaged. Their gallant defence awakened
no generous sentiment in the victors. “As the soldiers,” observes
the British writer, “were much irritated, as well by the
fatigue they had undergone and the opposition they met, as by
the loss of some brave and favorite officers, the slaughter of the
enemy was considerable.”[76]
Among the officers thus deplored, and bloodily revenged, was
Colonel Campbell, who commanded the detachment. At his fall
the command devolved on Colonel Beverly Robinson of the
American loyalists. Another officer slain was Major Grant, of
the New York volunteers. Count Gabrouski, the Polish aide-de-camp
of Sir Henry Clinton, had gallantly signalized himself
by the side of his friend, Lord Rawdon, who led the grenadiers
in storming Fort Montgomery. The count received his death
230wound at the foot of the ramparts. Giving his sword to a grenadier:
“Take this sword to Lord Rawdon,” said he, “and tell
him the owner died like a soldier.”[77]
On the capture of the forts, the American frigates and galleys
stationed for the protection of the chevaux-de-frise slipped
their cables, made all sail, and endeavored to escape up the river.
The wind, however, proved adverse; there was danger of their
falling into the hands of the enemy; the crews, therefore, set
them on fire and abandoned them. As every sail was set, the
vessels, we are told, were soon “magnificent pyramids of fire;”
the surrounding mountains were lit up by the glare, and a train
of ruddy light gleamed along the river. They were in a part of
the Highlands famous for its echoes: as the flames gradually
reached the loaded cannon, their thundering reports were multiplied
and prolonged along the rocky shores. The vessels at
length blew up with tremendous explosions, and all again was
darkness.[78]
On the following morning, the chevaux-de-frise and other
obstructions between Fort Montgomery and Anthony’s Nose were
cleared away: the Americans evacuated Forts Independence and
Constitution, and a free passage up the Hudson was open for the
British ships. Sir Henry Clinton proceeded no further in person,
but left the rest of the enterprise to be accomplished by Sir James
Wallace and General Vaughan, with a flying squadron of light
frigates, and a considerable detachment of troops.
Putnam had retreated to a pass in the mountains, on the east
side of the river, near Fishkill, having removed as much of the
stores and baggage as possible from the post he had abandoned.
231The old general was somewhat mortified at having been outwitted
by the enemy, but endeavored to shift the responsibility. In a
letter to Washington (Oct. 8th), he writes: “I have repeatedly
informed your Excellency of the enemy’s design against this post;
but, from some motive or other, you always differed from me in
opinion. As this conjecture of mine has for once proved right, I
cannot omit informing you, that my real and sincere opinion is,
that they now mean to join General Burgoyne with the utmost
despatch. Governor Clinton is exerting himself in collecting the
militia of this State. Brigadier-general Parsons I have sent off
to forward in the Connecticut militia, which are now arriving in
great numbers. I therefore hope and trust, that, in the course
of a few days, I shall be able to oppose the progress of the
enemy.”
He had concerted with Governor Clinton that they should
move to the northward with their forces, along the opposite shores
of the Hudson, endeavoring to keep pace with the enemy’s ships
and cover the country from their attacks.
The governor was in the neighborhood of New Windsor, just
above the Highlands, where he had posted himself to rally what
he termed his “broken but brave troops,” and to call out the
militia of Ulster and Orange. “I am persuaded,” writes he, “if
the militia will join me, we can save the country from destruction,
and defeat the enemy’s design of assisting their Northern
army.” The militia, however, were not as prompt as usual in
answering to the call of their popular and brave-hearted governor.
“They are well disposed,” writes he, “but anxious about
the immediate safety of their respective families (who, for many
miles, are yet moving further from the river); they come in the
232morning and return in the evening, and I never know when I
have them, or what my strength is.”[79]
On the 9th, two persons coming from Fort Montgomery were
arrested by his guards, and brought before him for examination.
One was much agitated, and was observed to put something hastily
into his mouth and swallow it. An emetic was administered,
and brought up a small silver bullet. Before he could be prevented
he swallowed it again. On his refusing a second emetic,
the governor threatened to have him hanged and his body opened.
The threat produced the bullet in the preceding manner. It was
oval in form and hollow, with a screw in the centre, and contained
a note from Sir Henry Clinton to Burgoyne, written on a
slip of thin paper, and dated (Oct. 8th) from Fort Montgomery.
“Nous y voici (here we are), and nothing between us and Gates.
I sincerely hope this little success of ours will facilitate your
operations.”[80]
The bearer of the letter was tried and convicted as a spy,
and sentenced to be hanged.
The enemy’s light-armed vessels were now making their way
up the river; landing marauding parties occasionally to make
depredations.
As soon as the governor could collect a little force, he pressed
forward to protect Kingston (Esopus), the seat of the State legislature.
The enemy in the mean time landed from their ships,
routed about one hundred and fifty militia collected to oppose
them, marched to the village, set fire to it in every part, consuming
great quantities of stores collected there, and then retreated
to their ships.
233Governor Clinton was two hours too late. He beheld the
flames from a distance; and having brought with him the spy,
the bearer of the silver bullet, he hanged him on an apple-tree
in sight of the burning village.
Having laid Kingston, the seat of the State government, in
ashes, the enemy proceeded in their ravages, destroying the residences
of conspicuous patriots at Rhinebeck, Livingston Manor,
and elsewhere, and among others the mansion of the widow of
the brave General Montgomery: trusting to close their desolating
career by a triumphant junction with Burgoyne at Albany.
CHAPTER XXII.
234
SCARCITY IN THE BRITISH CAMP—GATES BIDES HIS TIME—FORAGING MOVEMENT
OF BURGOYNE—BATTLE OF THE 7TH OCTOBER—ROUT OF THE BRITISH
AND HESSIANS—SITUATION OF THE BARONESS RIEDESEL AND LADY
HARRIET ACKLAND DURING THE BATTLE—DEATH OF GEN. FRAZER—HIS
FUNERAL—NIGHT RETREAT OF THE BRITISH—EXPEDITION OF LADY HARRIET
ACKLAND—DESPERATE SITUATION OF BURGOYNE AT SARATOGA—CAPITULATION—SURRENDER—CONDUCT
OF THE AMERICAN TROOPS—SCENES
IN THE CAMP—GALLANT COURTESY OF SCHUYLER TO THE BARONESS RIEDESEL—HIS
MAGNANIMOUS CONDUCT TOWARD BURGOYNE—RETURN OF THE
BRITISH DOWN THE HUDSON.
While Sir Henry Clinton had been thundering in the Highlands,
Burgoyne and his army had been wearing out hope within
their intrenchments, vigilantly watched, but unassailed by the
Americans. They became impatient even of this impunity.
“The enemy, though he can bring four times more soldiers
against us, shows no desire to make an attack,” writes a Hessian
officer.[81]
Arnold, too, was chafing in the camp, and longing for a
chance, as usual, “to right himself” by his sword. In a letter
to Gates he tries to goad him on. “I think it my duty (which
nothing shall deter me from doing) to acquaint you, the army
235are clamorous for action. The militia (who compose great part
of the army) are already threatening to go home. One fortnight’s
inaction will, I make no doubt, lessen your army by sickness
and desertion, at least four thousand men. In which time
the enemy may be reinforced, and make good their retreat.
“I have reason to think, from intelligence since received
that, had we improved the 20th of September, it might have
ruined the enemy. That is past; let me entreat you to improve
the present time.”
Gates was not to be goaded into action; he saw the desperate
situation of Burgoyne, and bided his time. “Perhaps,” writes
he, “despair may dictate to him to risk all upon one throw; he
is an old gamester, and in his time has seen all chances. I will
endeavor to be ready to prevent his good fortune, and, if possible,
secure my own.”[82]
On the 7th of October, but four or five days remained of the
time Burgoyne had pledged himself to await the co-operation of
Sir Henry Clinton. He now determined to make a grand movement
on the left of the American camp, to discover whether he
could force a passage, should it be necessary to advance, or dislodge
it from its position, should he have to retreat. Another
object was to cover a forage of the army, which was suffering from
the great scarcity.
For this purpose fifteen hundred of his best troops, with two
twelve-pounders, two howitzers and six six-pounders, were to be
led by himself, seconded by Major-generals Phillips and Riedesel,
and Brigadier-general Fraser. “No equal number of men,” say
the British accounts, “were ever better commanded; and it
236would have been difficult, indeed, to have matched the men with
an equal number.”[83]
On leaving his camp, Burgoyne committed the guard of it
on the high grounds to Brigadier-generals Hamilton and Specht,
and of the redoubts on the low grounds near the river, to Brigadier-general
Gall.
Forming his troops within three quarters of a mile of the
left of the Americans, though covered from their sight by the
forest, he sent out a corps of rangers, provincials and Indians, to
skulk through the woods, get in their rear, and give them an
alarm at the time the attack took place in front.
The movement, though carried on behind the screen of forests,
was discovered. In the afternoon the advanced guard of
the American centre beat to arms: the alarm was repeated
throughout the line. Gates ordered his officers to their alarm
posts, and sent forth Wilkinson, the adjutant-general, to inquire
the cause. From a rising ground in an open place he descried
the enemy in force, their foragers busy in a field of wheat,
the officers reconnoitring the left wing of the camp with telescopes
from the top of a cabin.
Returning to the camp, Wilkinson reported the position and
movements of the enemy; that their front was open, their flanks
rested on woods, under cover of which they might be attacked
and their right was skirted by a height: that they were reconnoitring
the left, and he thought offered battle.
“Well, then,” replied Gates, “order out Morgan to begin the
game.”
A plan of attack was soon arranged. Morgan with his riflemen
237and a body of infantry was sent to make a circuit through
the woods, and get possession of the heights on the right of the
enemy, while General Poor with his brigade of New York and
New Hampshire troops, and a part of Learned’s brigade, were
to advance against the enemy’s left. Morgan was to make an
attack on the heights as soon as he should hear the fire opened
below.
Burgoyne now drew out his troops in battle array. The
grenadiers, under Major Ackland, with the artillery, under Major
Williams, formed his left, and were stationed on a rising ground,
with a rivulet called Mill Creek in front. Next to them were
the Hessians, under Riedesel, and British, under Phillips, forming
the centre. The light-infantry, under Lord Balcarras, formed
the extreme right; having in the advance a detachment of five
hundred picked men, under General Fraser, ready to flank the
Americans as soon as they should be attacked in front.
He had scarce made these arrangements, when he was astonished
and confounded by a thundering of artillery on his left,
and a rattling fire of rifles on the woody heights on his right.
The troops under Poor advanced steadily up the ascent where
Ackland’s grenadiers and Williams’ artillery were stationed;
received their fire, and then rushed forward. Ackland’s grenadiers
received the first brunt, but it extended along the line, as
detachment after detachment arrived, and was carried on with
inconceivable fury. The Hessian artillerists spoke afterwards
of the heedlessness with which the Americans rushed upon the
cannon, while they were discharging grape shot. The artillery
was repeatedly taken and retaken, and at length remained in
possession of the Americans, who turned it upon its former owners.
Major Ackland was wounded in both legs, and taken prisoner.
238Major Williams of the artillery was also captured. The
headlong impetuosity of the attack confounded the regular tacticians.
Much of this has been ascribed to the presence and
example of Arnold. That daring officer, who had lingered in
the camp in expectation of a fight, was exasperated at having no
command assigned him. On hearing the din of battle, he
could restrain no longer his warlike impulse, but threw himself on
his horse and sallied forth. Gates saw him issuing from the
camp. “He’ll do some rash thing!” cried he, and sent his aide-de-camp,
Major Armstrong to call him back. Arnold surmised
his errand and evaded it. Putting spurs to his horse, he dashed
into the scene of action, and was received with acclamation.
Being the superior officer in the field his orders were obeyed of
course. Putting himself at the head of the troops of Learned’s
brigade, he attacked the Hessians in the enemy’s centre, and
broke them with repeated charges. Indeed, for a time his actions
seemed to partake of frenzy; riding hither and thither,
brandishing his sword, and cheering on the men to acts of desperation.
In one of his paroxysms of excitement, he struck and
wounded an American officer in the head with his sword, without,
as he afterwards declared, being conscious of the act. Wilkinson
asserts that he was partly intoxicated; but Arnold needed only
his own irritated pride and the smell of gunpowder to rouse him
to acts of madness.
Morgan, in the mean time, was harassing the enemy’s right
wing with an incessant fire of small-arms, and preventing it from
sending any assistance to the centre. General Fraser with his
chosen corps, for some time rendered great protection to this
wing. Mounted on an iron-gray charger, his uniform of a field officer
made him a conspicuous object for Morgan’s sharpshooters.
239One bullet cut the crupper of his horse, another
grazed his mane. “You are singled out, general,” said his aide-de-camp,
“and had better shift your ground.” “My duty forbids
me to fly from danger,” was the reply. A moment afterwards
he was shot down by a marksman posted in a tree. Two
grenadiers bore him to the camp. His fall was as a death-blow
to his corps. The arrival on the field of a large reinforcement
of New York troops under General Ten Broeck, completed the
confusion. Burgoyne saw that the field was lost, and now only
thought of saving his camp. The troops nearest to the lines
were ordered to throw themselves within them, while Generals
Phillips and Riedesel covered the retreat of the main body,
which was in danger of being cut off. The artillery was abandoned,
all the horses, and most of the men who had so bravely
defended it, having been killed. The troops, though hard pressed,
retired in good order. Scarcely had they entered the camp
when it was stormed with great fury; the Americans, with
Arnold at their head, rushing to the lines under a severe discharge
of grape shot and small-arms. Lord Balcarras defended
the intrenchments bravely; the action was fierce, and well sustained
on both sides. After an ineffectual attempt to make his
way into the camp in this quarter at the point of the bayonet,
Arnold spurred his horse toward the right flank of the camp
occupied by the German reserve, where Lieutenant-colonel Brooks
was making a general attack with a Massachusetts regiment.
Here, with a part of a platoon, he forced his way into a sally port,
but a shot from the retreating Hessians killed his horse,
and wounded him in the same leg which had received a wound
before Quebec. He was borne off from the field, but not until
the victory was complete; for the Germans retreated from the
240works, leaving on the field their brave defender, Lieutenant-colonel
Breyman, mortally wounded.
The night was now closing in. The victory of the Americans
was decisive. They had routed the enemy, killed and wounded
a great number, made many prisoners, taken their field-artillery,
and gained possession of a part of their works which laid open
the right and the rear of their camp. They lay all night on their
arms, within half a mile of the scene of action, prepared to
renew the assault upon the camp in the morning. Affecting
scenes had occurred in the enemy’s camp during this deadly
conflict.
In the morning previous to the battle, the Baroness De Riedesel
had breakfasted with her husband in the camp. Generals
Burgoyne, Phillips, and Fraser were to dine with her husband
and herself, in a house in the neighborhood, where she and her
children were quartered. She observed much movement in the
camp, but was quieted by the assurance that it was to be a mere
reconnaissance. On her way home she met a number of Indians,
painted and decorated and armed with guns, and shouting war!
war! Her fears were awakened, and scarce had she reached
home when she heard the rattling of fire-arms and the thundering
of artillery. The din increased, and soon became so terrible that
she “was more dead than alive.” About one o’clock came one
of the generals who were to have dined with her—poor General
Fraser—brought upon a handbarrow, mortally wounded. “The
table,” writes she, “which was already prepared for dinner, was
immediately removed, and a bed placed in its stead for the general.
I sat terrified and trembling in a corner. The noise grew
more alarming, and I was in a continual agony and tremor, while
thinking that my husband might soon, also, be brought in,
241wounded like General Fraser. That poor general said to the surgeon,
‘Tell me the truth, is there no hope?’—There was none.
Prayers were read, after which he desired that General Burgoyne
should be requested to have him buried on the next day
at 6 o’clock in the evening, on a hill where a breastwork had
been constructed.”
Lady Harriet Ackland was in a tent near by. News came
to her that her husband was mortally wounded and taken prisoner.
She was in an agony of distress. The baroness endeavored
to persuade her that his wound might not be dangerous, and
advised her to ask permission to join him. She divided the night
between soothing attentions to Lady Harriet, and watchful care
of her children who were asleep, but who she feared might disturb
the poor dying general. Towards morning, thinking his
agony approaching, she wrapped them in blankets and retired
with them into the entrance hall. Courteous even in death, the
general sent her several messages to beg her pardon for the
trouble he thought he was giving her. At 8 o’clock in the morning
he expired.[84]
Burgoyne had shifted his position during the night, to heights
about a mile to the north, close to the river, and covered in front
by a ravine. Early in the morning, the Americans took possession
of the camp which he had abandoned. A random fire of
artillery and small-arms was kept up on both sides during the
day. The British sharpshooters stationed in the ravine did some
execution, and General Lincoln was wounded in the leg while
reconnoitring. Gates, however, did not think it advisable to
force a desperate enemy when in a strong position, at the expense
242of a prodigal waste of blood. He took all measures to cut off
his retreat and insure a surrender. General Fellows, with 1,400
men, had already been sent to occupy the high ground east of
the Hudson opposite Saratoga Ford. Other detachments were
sent higher up the river in the direction of Lake George.
Burgoyne saw that nothing was left for him but a prompt
and rapid retreat to Saratoga, yet in this he was delayed by a
melancholy duty of friendship; it was to attend the obsequies of
the gallant Fraser, who, according to his dying request, was to
be interred at six o’clock in the evening, within a redoubt which
had been constructed on a hill.
Between sunset and dark, his body was borne to the appointed
place by grenadiers of his division, followed by the generals and
their staffs. The Americans seeing indistinctly what, in the
twilight, appeared to be a movement of troops up the hill and
in the redoubt, pointed their artillery in that direction. “Cannon
balls flew around and above the assembled mourners,”
writes the Baroness Riedesel, who was a spectator from a distance.
“Many cannon balls flew close by me, but my whole
attention was engaged by the funeral scene, where I saw my husband
exposed to imminent danger. This, indeed, was not a moment
to be apprehensive for my own safety. General Gates protested
afterwards, that had he known what was going on, he
would have stopped the fire immediately.”[85]
We have the scene still more feelingly described by Burgoyne.
“The incessant cannonade during the ceremony; the steady
attitude and unaltered voice with which the chaplain officiated,
243though frequently covered with dust which the shot threw up on
all sides of him; the mute, but expressive mixture of sensibility
and indignation upon every countenance; these objects will
remain to the last of life upon the mind of every man who was
present. The growing darkness added to the scenery, and the
whole marked a character of that juncture which would make
one of the finest subjects for the pencil of a master that the field
ever exhibited. To the canvas and to the faithful page of a
more important historian, gallant friend! I consign thy memory.
There may thy talents, thy manly virtues, their progress and their
period, find due distinction: and long may they survive, long
after the frail record of my pen shall be forgotten!”
General Fraser was well worthy of this eulogium. He was
the most popular officer of the army, and one of the most efficient.
He was one in whom Burgoyne reposed the most implicit
confidence, and deeply must it have added to his gloom of mind
at this dark hour of his fortunes, to have this his friend and
counsellor, and brother in arms shot down at his side.
“The reflections arising from these scenes,” writes he, “gave
place to the perplexities of the night. A defeated army was to
retreat from an enemy flushed with success, much superior in
front, and occupying strong posts in the country behind. We
were equally liable upon that march to be attacked in front, flank,
or rear.”
Preparations had been made to decamp immediately after the
funeral, and at nine o’clock at night the retreat commenced.
Large fires had been lighted, and many tents were left standing
to conceal the movement. The hospital, in which were about
three hundred sick and wounded, was abandoned, as were likewise
several bateaux, laden with baggage and provisions.
244It was a dismal retreat. The rain fell in torrents; the roads
were deep and broken, and the horses weak and half-starved from
want of forage. At daybreak there was a halt to refresh the
troops, and give time for the bateaux laden with provision to
come abreast. In three hours the march was resumed, but before
long there was another halt, to guard against an American reconnoitring
party which appeared in sight. When the troops were
again about to march, General Burgoyne received a message
from Lady Harriet Ackland, expressing a wish to pass to the
American camp, and ask permission from General Gates to join
her husband. “Though I was ready to believe,” writes Burgoyne,
“(for I had experience), that patience and fortitude, in a supreme
degree, were to be found, as well as every other virtue, under the
most tender forms, I was astonished at this proposal. After so
long an agitation of spirits, exhausted not only for want of rest,
but absolutely want of food, drenched in rains for twelve hours
together, that a woman should be capable of such an undertaking as
delivering herself to the enemy, probably in the night, and uncertain
of what hands she might first fall into, appeared an effort
above human nature. The assistance I was enabled to give her
was small indeed; I had not even a cup of wine to offer her;
but I was told she had found from some kind and fortunate hand,
a little rum and dirty water. All I could furnish her was an
open boat, and a few lines written upon dirty wet paper, to General
Gates, recommending her to his protection.
“Mr. Brudenell, the chaplain of the artillery (the same gentleman
who had officiated so signally at General Fraser’s funeral),
readily undertook to accompany her, and with one female servant,
and the major’s valet-de-chambre (who had a ball which he had
245received in the late action then in his shoulder), she rowed down
the river to meet the enemy.”
The night was far advanced before the boat reached the
American outposts. It was challenged by a sentinel who threatened
to fire into it should it attempt to pass. Mr. Brudenell
made known that it was a flag of truce, and stated who was the
personage it brought; report was made to the adjutant-general.
Treachery was apprehended, and word was returned to detain the
flag until daylight. Lady Harriet and her companions were
allowed to land. Major Dearborn, the officer on guard, surrendered
his chamber in the guard-house to her ladyship; bedding
was brought, a fire was made, tea was served, and her mind being
relieved by assurances of her husband’s safety, she was enabled
to pass a night of comparative comfort and tranquillity.[86] She
proceeded to the American camp in the morning, when, Burgoyne
acknowledges, “she was received and accommodated by
General Gates, with all the humanity and respect that her rank,
her merits, and her fortune deserved.”
To resume the fortunes of the retreating army. It rained
terribly through the residue of the 9th, and in consequence of
repeated halts, they did not reach Saratoga until evening. A
detachment of Americans had arrived there before them, and
were throwing up intrenchments on a commanding height at
Fish Kill. They abandoned their work, forded the Hudson, and
joined a force under General Fellows, posted on the hills east of
the river. The bridge over the Fish Kill had been destroyed;
the artillery could not cross until the ford was examined. Exhausted
246by fatigue, the men for the most part had not strength
nor inclination to cut wood nor make fire, but threw themselves
upon the wet ground in their wet clothes, and slept under the
continuing rain. “I was quite wet,” writes the Baroness Riedesel,
“and was obliged to remain in that condition for want of
a place to change my apparel. I seated myself near a fire and
undressed the children, and we then laid ourselves upon some
straw.”
At daylight on the 10th, the artillery and the last of the
troops passed the fords of the Fish Kill, and took a position upon
the heights, and in the redoubts formerly constructed there.
To protect the troops from being attacked in passing the ford by
the Americans, who were approaching, Burgoyne ordered fire to
be set to the farm houses and other buildings on the south side
of the Fish Kill. Amongst the rest, the noble mansion of General
Schuyler, with storehouses, granaries, mills, and the other
appurtenances of a great rural establishment, was entirely consumed.
Burgoyne himself estimated the value of property
destroyed at ten thousand pounds sterling. The measure was
condemned by friend as well as foe, but he justified it on the
principles of self-preservation.
The force under General Fellows, posted on the opposite
hills of the Hudson, now opened a fire from a battery commanding
the ford of that river. Thus prevented from crossing, Burgoyne
thought to retreat along the west side as far as Fort
George, on the way to Canada, and sent out workmen under a
strong escort to repair the bridges, and open the road toward
Fort Edward. The escort was soon recalled and the work abandoned;
for the Americans under Gates appeared in great force,
247on the heights south of the Fish Kill, and seemed preparing to
cross and bring on an engagement.
The opposite shores of the Hudson were now lined with
detachments of Americans. Bateaux laden with provisions,
which had attended the movements of the army, were fired
upon, many taken, some retaken with loss of life. It was necessary
to land the provisions from such as remained, and bring
them up the hill into the camp, which was done under a heavy
fire from the American artillery.
Burgoyne called now a general council of war, in which it
was resolved, since the bridges could not be repaired, to abandon
the artillery and baggage, let the troops carry a supply of provisions
upon their backs, push forward in the night, and force their
way across the fords at or near Fort Edward.
Before the plan could be put in execution, scouts brought
word that the Americans were intrenched opposite those fords,
and encamped in force with cannon, on the high ground between
Fort Edward and Fort George. In fact, by this time the American
army, augmented by militia and volunteers from all quarters,
had posted itself in strong positions on both sides of the Hudson,
so as to extend three fourths of a circle round the enemy.
Giving up all further attempt at retreat, Burgoyne now fortified
his camp on the heights to the north of Fish Kill, still hoping
that succor might arrive from Sir Henry Clinton, or that an
attack upon his trenches might give him some chance of cutting
his way through.
In this situation his troops lay continually on their arms.
His camp was subjected to cannonading from Fellows’ batteries
on the opposite side of the Hudson, Gates’s batteries on the
248south of Fish Kill, and a galling fire from Morgan’s riflemen,
stationed on heights in the rear.
The Baroness De Riedesel and her helpless little ones were
exposed to the dangers and horrors of this long turmoil. On
the morning when the attack was opened, General De Riedesel
sent them to take refuge in a house in the vicinity. On their
way thither the baroness saw several men on the opposite bank
of the Hudson levelling their muskets and about to fire. Throwing
her children in the back part of the carriage the anxious
mother endeavored to cover them with her body. The men fired;
a poor wounded soldier, who had sought shelter behind the
carriage, received a shot which broke his arm. The baroness
succeeded in getting to the house. Some women and crippled
soldiers had already taken refuge there. It was mistaken for
head-quarters and cannonaded. The baroness retreated into the
cellar, laid herself in a corner near the door with her children’s
heads upon her knees, and passed a sleepless night of mental
anguish.
In the morning the cannonade began anew. Cannon balls
passed through the house repeatedly with a tremendous noise.
A poor soldier who was about to have a leg amputated, lost the
other by one of these balls. The day was passed among such
horrors. The wives of a major, a lieutenant and a commissary,
were her companions in misery. “They sat together,” she says,
“deploring their situation, when some one entered to announce
bad news.” There was whispering among her companions, with
deep looks of sorrow. “I immediately suspected,” says she,
“that my husband had been killed. I shrieked aloud.” She
was soothed by assurances that nothing had happened to him;
and was given to understand by a sidelong glance, that the wife
249of the lieutenant was the unfortunate one; her husband had been
killed.
For six days, she and her children remained in this dismal
place of refuge. The cellar was spacious, with three compartments,
but the number of occupants increased. The wounded
were brought in to be relieved—or to die. She remained with
her children near the door, to escape more easily in case of fire.
She put straw under mattresses; on these she lay with her little
ones, and her female servants slept near her.
Her frequent dread was, that the army might be driven off
or march away, and she be left behind. “I crept up the staircase,”
says she, “more than once, and when I saw our soldiers
near their watchfires, I became more calm, and could even have
slept.”
There was great distress for water. The river was near, but
the Americans shot every one who approached it. A soldier’s
wife at length summoned resolution, and brought a supply. “The
Americans,” adds the baroness, “told us afterwards, that they
spared her on account of her sex.”
“I endeavored,” continues she, “to dispel my melancholy,
by constantly attending to the wounded. I made them tea and
coffee, for which I received their warmest acknowledgments. I
often shared my dinner with them.”
Her husband visited her once or twice daily, at the risk of
his life. On one occasion, General Phillips accompanied him,
but was overcome when he saw the sufferings and danger by
which this noble woman and her children were surrounded, and
of which we have given a very subdued picture. “I would not
for ten thousand guineas see this place again,” exclaimed the
general. “I am heart-broken with what I have seen.”
250Burgoyne was now reduced to despair. His forces were
diminished by losses, by the desertion of Canadians and royalists,
and the total defection of the Indians; and on inspection it
was found that the provisions on hand, even upon short allowance,
would not suffice for more than three days. A council of war,
therefore, was called of all the generals, field-officers and captains
commanding troops. The deliberations were brief. All concurred
in the necessity of opening a treaty with General Gates,
for a surrender on honorable terms. While they were yet deliberating,
an eighteen pound ball passed through the tent, sweeping
across the table round which they were seated.
Negotiations were accordingly opened on the 13th, under
sanction of a flag. Lieutenant Kingston, Burgoyne’s adjutant-general,
was the bearer of a note, proposing a cessation of hostilities
until terms could be adjusted.
The first terms offered by Gates were that the enemy should
lay down their arms within their intrenchments, and surrender
themselves prisoners of war. These were indignantly rejected,
with an intimation that, if persisted in, hostilities must recommence.
Counter proposals were then made by General Burgoyne, and
finally accepted by General Gates. According to these, the
British troops were to march out of the camp with artillery and
all the honors of war, to a fixed place, where they were to pile
their arms at a word of command from their own officers. They
were to be allowed a free passage to Europe upon condition of
not serving again in America, during the present war. The army
was not to be separated, especially the men from the officers;
roll-calling and other regular duties were to be permitted; the
officers were to be on parole, and to wear their side-arms. All
251private property to be sacred; no baggage to be searched or
molested. All persons appertaining to or following the camp,
whatever might be their country, were to be comprehended in
these terms of capitulation.
Schuyler’s late secretary, Colonel Varick, who was still in
camp, writes to him on the 13th: “Burgoyne says he will send
all his general officers at ten, in the morning, to finish and settle
the business. This, I trust, will be accomplished before twelve,
and then I shall have the honor and happiness of congratulating
you on the glorious success of our arms. I wish to God I could
say under your command.
“If you wish to see Burgoyne, you will be necessitated to see
him here.”[87]
In the night of the 16th, before the articles of capitulation
had been signed, a British officer from the army below made his
way into the camp, with despatches from Sir Henry Clinton,
announcing that he had captured the forts in the Highlands, and
had pushed detachments further up the Hudson. Burgoyne now
submitted to the consideration of officers, “whether it was consistent
with public faith, and if so, expedient, to suspend the execution
of the treaty and trust to events.” His own opinion
inclined in the affirmative, but the majority of the council determined
that the public faith was fully plighted. The capitulation
was accordingly signed by Burgoyne on the 17th of October.
The British army, at the time of the surrender, was reduced
by capture, death, and desertion, from nine thousand to five
thousand seven hundred and fifty-two men. That of Gates, regulars
and militia, amounted to ten thousand five hundred and
252fifty-four men on duty; between two and three thousand being
on the sick list, or absent on furlough.
By this capitulation, the Americans gained a fine train of
artillery, seven thousand stand of arms, and a great quantity of
clothing, tents, and military stores of all kinds.
When the British troops marched forth to deposit their arms
at the appointed place, Colonel Wilkinson, the adjutant-general,
was the only American soldier to be seen. Gates had ordered
his troops to keep rigidly within their lines, that they might not
add by their presence to the humiliation of a brave enemy. In
fact, throughout all his conduct, during the campaign, British
writers, and Burgoyne himself, give him credit for acting with
great humanity and forbearance.[88]
Wilkinson, in his Memoirs, describes the first meeting of
Gates and Burgoyne, which took place at the head of the American
camp. They were attended by their staffs and by other
general officers. Burgoyne was in a rich royal uniform. Gates
in a plain blue frock. When they had approached nearly within
sword’s length they reined up and halted. Burgoyne, raising his
hat most gracefully, said: “The fortune of war, General Gates,
has made me your prisoner;” to which the other, returning his
salute, replied, “I shall always be ready to testify that it has not
been through any fault of your excellency.”
“We passed through the American camp,” writes the already
cited Hessian officer, “in which all the regiments were drawn out
beside the artillery, and stood under arms. Not one of them was
253uniformly clad, each had on the clothes which he wore in the
fields, the church, or the tavern. They stood, however, like
soldiers, well arranged, and with a military air, in which there
was but little to find fault with. All the muskets had bayonets,
and the sharpshooters had rifles. The men all stood so still that
we were filled with wonder. Not one of them made a single
motion as if he would speak with his neighbor. Nay more, all
the lads that stood there in rank and file, kind nature had formed
so trim, so slender, so nervous, that it was a pleasure to look at
them, and we all were surprised at the sight of such a handsome,
well-formed race.”[89] “In all earnestness,” adds he, “English
America surpasses the most of Europe in the growth and looks
of its male population. The whole nation has a natural turn
and talent for war and a soldier’s life.”
He made himself somewhat merry, however, with the equipments
of the officers. A few wore regimentals; and those
fashioned to their own notions as to cut and color, being provided
by themselves. Brown coats with sea-green facings, white linings
and silver trimmings, and gray coats in abundance, with buff
facings and cuffs, and gilt buttons; in short, every variety of
pattern.
The brigadiers and generals wore uniforms and belts which
designated their rank; but most of the colonels and other officers
were in their ordinary clothes; a musket and bayonet in hand,
and a cartridge-box or powder-horn over the shoulder. But
what especially amused him was the variety of uncouth wigs worn
by the officers; the lingerings of an uncouth fashion.
Most of the troops thus noticed were the hastily levied
254militia, the yeomanry of the country. “There were regular
regiments also,” he said, “which, for want of time and cloth,
were not yet equipped in uniform. These had standards with
various emblems and mottoes, some of which had for us a very
satirical signification.
“But I must say to the credit of the enemy’s regiments,”
continues he, “that not a man was to be found therein who, as
we marched by, made even a sign of taunting, insulting exultation,
hatred, or any other evil feeling; on the contrary, they
seemed as though they would rather do us honor. As we
marched by the great tent of General Gates, he invited in the
brigadiers and commanders of regiments, and various refreshments
were set before them. Gates is between fifty and sixty
years of age; wears his own thin gray hair; is active and friendly,
and on account of the weakness of his eyes, constantly wears
spectacles. At head-quarters we met many officers, who treated
us with all possible politeness.”
We now give another page of the Baroness De Riedesel’s
fortunes, at this time of the surrender. “My husband’s groom
brought me a message to join him with the children. I once
more seated myself in my dear calash, and, while riding through
the American camp was gratified to observe that nobody looked at
us with disrespect, but, on the contrary, greeted us, and seemed
touched at the sight of a captive mother with her children. I
must candidly confess that I did not present myself, though so
situated, with much courage to the enemy, for the thing was
entirely new to me. When I drew near the tents, a good-looking
man advanced towards me, and helping the children from the
calash, kissed and caressed them: he then offered me his arm
and tears trembled in his eyes. ‘You tremble,’ said he; ‘do not
255be alarmed, I pray you.’ ‘Sir,’ cried I, ‘a countenance so expressive
of benevolence, and the kindness you have evinced
towards my children, are sufficient to dispel all apprehensions.’
He then ushered me into the tent of General Gates, whom I
found engaged in friendly conversation with Generals Burgoyne
and Phillips. General Burgoyne said to me, ‘You can now be
quiet, and free from all apprehension of danger.’ I replied that
I should indeed be reprehensible, if I felt any anxiety, when our
general felt none, and was on such friendly terms with General
Gates.
“All the generals remained to dine with General Gates.
The gentleman who had received me with so much kindness, came
and said to me, ‘You may find it embarrassing to be the only
lady in such a large company of gentlemen; will you come with
your children to my tent, and partake of a frugal dinner, offered
with the best will?’ ‘By the kindness you show to me,’
returned I, ‘you induce me to believe that you have a wife and
children.’ He informed me that he was General Schuyler. He
regaled me with smoked tongues, which were excellent, with
beefsteaks, potatoes, fresh butter and bread. Never did a dinner
give me more pleasure than this, and I read the same happy
change on the countenances of all those around me. That my
husband was out of danger, was a still greater joy. After
dinner, General Schuyler begged me to pay him a visit at his
house at Albany, where he expected that General Burgoyne
would also be his guest. I sent to ask my husband’s directions,
who advised me to accept the invitation.” The reception which
she met with at Albany, from General Schuyler’s wife and
daughters, was not, she said, like the reception of enemies, but
of the most intimate friends. “They loaded us with kindness,”
256writes she, “and they behaved in the same manner towards General
Burgoyne, though he had ordered their splendid establishment
to be burnt, and without any necessity, it was said. But
all their actions proved, that in the sight of the misfortunes of
others they quickly forgot their own.” It was, in fact, the lot of
Burgoyne to have coals of fire heaped on his head by those with
whom he had been at enmity. One of the first persons whom he had
encountered in the American camp was General Schuyler. He
attempted to make some explanation or excuse about the recent
destruction of his property. Schuyler begged him not to think
of it, as the occasion justified it, according to the principles and
rules of war.
“He did more,” said Burgoyne, in a speech before the House
of Commons: “he sent an aide-de-camp to conduct me to
Albany; in order, as he expressed it, to procure better quarters
than a stranger might be able to find. That gentleman conducted
me to a very elegant house, and, to my great surprise, presented
me to Mrs. Schuyler and her family. In that house I remained
during my whole stay in Albany, with a table of more than
twenty covers for me and my friends, and every other demonstration
of hospitality.”
This was indeed realizing the vaunted courtesy and magnanimity
of the age of chivalry.
The surrender of Burgoyne was soon followed by the evacuation
of Ticonderoga and Fort Independence, the garrisons retiring
to the Isle aux Noix and St. Johns. As to the armament on the
Hudson, the commanders whom Sir Henry Clinton had left in
charge of it, received, in the midst of their desolating career, the
astounding intelligence of the capture of the army with which
257they had come to co-operate. Nothing remained for them,
therefore, but to drop down the river and return to New York.
The whole expedition, though it had effected much damage to
the Americans, failed to be of essential service to the royal
cause. The fortresses in the Highlands could not be maintained,
and had been evacuated and destroyed, and the plundering and
burning of defenceless towns and villages, and especially the
conflagration of Esopus, had given to the whole enterprise the
character of a maraud, disgraceful in civilized warfare, and calculated
only to inflame more deadly enmity and determined
opposition.
NOTE.
The reader may desire to know the sequel of Lady Harriet Ackland’s romantic
story. Her husband recovered from his wounds, and they returned
together to England. Major Ackland retained a grateful sense of the kind
treatment they had experienced from the Americans. At a dinner party he
had warm words with another British officer, who questioned the American
character for courage. A duel ensued, in which the major was killed. The
shock to Lady Harriet produced mental derangement. She recovered in the
course of a couple of years, and ultimately was married to Mr. Brudenell, the
worthy chaplain who had been her companion and protector in the time of her
distress.
CHAPTER XXIII.
258
WASHINGTON ADVANCES TO SKIPPACK CREEK—THE BRITISH FLEET IN THE
DELAWARE—FORTS AND OBSTRUCTIONS IN THE RIVER—WASHINGTON MEDITATES
AN ATTACK ON THE BRITISH CAMP—BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN.
Having given the catastrophe of the British invasion from the
North, we will revert to that part of the year’s campaign which
was passing under the immediate eye of Washington. We left
him encamped at Pott’s Grove towards the end of September,
giving his troops a few days’ repose after their severe fatigues.
Being rejoined by Wayne and Smallwood with their brigades,
and other troops being arrived from the Jerseys, his force
amounted to about eight thousand Continentals and three thousand
militia; with these he advanced, on the 30th of September,
to Skippack Creek, about fourteen miles from Germantown, where
the main body of the British army lay encamped; a detachment
under Cornwallis occupying Philadelphia.
Immediately after the battle of Brandywine, Admiral Lord
Howe with great exertions had succeeded in getting his ships of
war and transports round from the Chesapeake into the Delaware,
and had anchored them along the western shore from Reedy
Island to Newcastle. They were prevented from approaching
nearer by obstructions which the Americans had placed in the
259river. The lowest of these were at Billingsport (or Bylling’s
Point), where chevaux-de-frise in the channel of the river were
protected by a strong redoubt on the Jersey shore. Higher up
were Fort Mifflin on Mud (or Fort) Island, and Fort Mercer on
the Jersey shore; with chevaux-de-frise between them. Washington
had exerted himself to throw a garrison into Fort Mifflin,
and keep up the obstructions of the river. “If these can be
maintained,” said he, “General Howe’s situation will not be the
most agreeable; for if his supplies can be stopped by water, it
may easily be done by land. To do both shall be my utmost
endeavor; and I am not without hope that the acquisition of
Philadelphia may, instead of his good fortune, prove his ruin.”[90]
Sir William Howe was perfectly aware of this, and had concerted
operations with his brother by land and water, to reduce
the forts and clear away the obstructions of the river. With
this view he detached a part of his force into the Jerseys, to
proceed, in the first instance, against the fortifications at Billingsport.
Washington had been for some days anxiously on the look-out
for some opportunity to strike a blow of consequence, when
two intercepted letters gave him intelligence of this movement.
He immediately determined to make an attack upon the British
camp at Germantown, while weakened by the absence of this detachment.
To understand the plan of the attack, some description
of the British place of encampment is necessary.
Germantown, at that time, was little more than one continued
street, extending two miles north and south. The houses were
mostly of stone, low and substantial, with steep roofs and protecting
260eaves. They stood apart from each other, with fruit
trees in front and small gardens. Beyond the village, and about
a hundred yards east of the road, stood a spacious stone edifice,
with ornamented grounds, statues, groves and shrubbery, the
country-seat of Benjamin Chew, chief justice of Pennsylvania
previous to the Revolution: we shall have more to say concerning
this mansion presently.
Four roads approached the village from above; that is, from
the north. The Skippack, which was the main road, led over
Chestnut Hil and Mount Airy down to and through the village
toward Philadelphia, forming the street of which we have just
spoken. On its right, and nearly parallel, was the Monatawny
or Ridge road, passing near the Schuylkill, and entering the
main road below the village.
On the left of the Skippack or main road, was the Limekiln
road, running nearly parallel to it for a time, and then turning
towards it, almost at right angles, so as to enter the village at
the market-place. Still further to the left or east, and outside
of all, was the Old York road, falling into the main road some
distance below the village.
The main body of the British forces lay encamped across the
lower part of the village, divided into almost equal parts by the
main street or Skippack road. The right wing, commanded by
General Grant, was to the east of the road, the left wing to the
west. Each wing was covered by strong detachments, and guarded
by cavalry. General Howe had his head-quarters in the rear.
The advance of the army, composed of the 2d battalion of
British light-infantry, with a train of artillery, was more than
two miles from the main body, on the west of the road, with an
outlying picket stationed with two six-pounders at Allen’s house
261on Mount Airy. About three quarters of a mile in the rear of
the light-infantry, lay encamped in a field opposite “Chew’s
House,” the 40th regiment of infantry, under Colonel Musgrave.
According to Washington’s plan for the attack, Sullivan was
to command the right wing, composed of his own division, principally
Maryland troops, and the division of General Wayne. He
was to be sustained by a corps de reserve, under Lord Stirling,
composed of Nash’s North Carolina and Maxwell’s Virginia
brigades, and to be flanked by the brigade of General Conway.
He was to march down the Skippack road and attack the left
wing; at the same time General Armstrong, with the Pennsylvania
militia, was to pass down the Monatawny or Ridge road,
and get upon the enemy’s left and rear.
Greene with the left wing, composed of his own division and
the division of General Stephen, and flanked by McDougall’s
brigade, was to march down the Limekiln road, so as to enter
the village at the market-house. The two divisions were to attack
the enemy’s right wing in front, McDougall with his brigade
to attack it in flank, while Smallwood’s division of Maryland
militia and Forman’s Jersey brigade, making a circuit by
the Old York road, were to attack it in the rear. Two thirds
of the forces were thus directed against the enemy’s right wing,
under the idea that, if it could be forced, the whole army must
be pushed into the Schuylkill, or compelled to surrender. The
attack was to begin on all quarters at daybreak.[91]
About dusk, on the 3d of October, the army left its encampment
at Matuchen Hills, by its different routes. Washington
accompanied the right wing. It had fifteen miles of weary march
262to make over rough roads, so that it was after daybreak when the
troops emerged from the woods on Chestnut Hill. The morning
was dark with a heavy fog. A detachment advanced to attack
the enemy’s out picket, stationed at Allen’s House. The patrol
was led by Captain Allen McLane, a brave Maryland officer, well
acquainted with the ground, and with the position of the enemy.
He fell in with double sentries, whom he killed with the loss of
one man. The alarm, however, was given; the distant roll of
a drum and the call to arms, resounded through the murky air.
The picket guard, after discharging their two six-pounders, were
routed, and retreated down the south side of Mount Airy to the
battalion of light-infantry who were forming in order of battle.
As their pursuers descended into the valley, the sun rose, but
was soon obscured. Wayne led the attack upon the light-infantry.
“They broke at first,” writes he, “without waiting to receive
us, but soon formed again, when a heavy and well-directed
fire took place on both sides.”
They again gave way, but being supported by the grenadiers,
returned to the charge. Sullivan’s division and Conway’s brigade
formed on the west of the road, and joined in the attack;
the rest of the troops were too far to the north to render any
assistance. The infantry, after fighting bravely for a time, broke
and ran, leaving their artillery behind. They were hotly pursued
by Wayne. His troops remembered the bloody 20th of
September, and the ruthless slaughter of their comrades. “They
pushed on with the bayonet,” says Wayne, “and took ample vengeance
for that night’s work.” The officers endeavored to restrain
their fury towards those who cried for mercy, but to little purpose.
It was a terrible melée. The fog, together with the smoke
of the cannonry and musketry, made it almost as dark as night:
263our people mistaking one another for the enemy, frequently exchanged
shots before they discovered their error. The whole of
the enemy’s advance were driven from their camping ground,
leaving their tents standing, with all their baggage. Colonel
Musgrave, with six companies of the 40th regiment, threw himself
into Chew’s House, barricaded the doors and lower windows,
and took post above stairs; the main torrent of the retreat passed
by pursued by Wayne into the village.
As the residue of this division of the army came up to join
in the pursuit, Musgrave and his men opened a fire of musketry
upon them from the upper windows of his citadel. This brought
them to a halt. Some of the officers were for pushing on; but
General Knox stoutly objected, insisting on the old military
maxim, never to leave a garrisoned castle in the rear.
His objection unluckily prevailed. A flag was sent with a
summons to surrender. A young Virginian, Lieutenant Smith,
volunteered to be the bearer. As he was advancing, he was fired
upon and received a mortal wound. The house was now cannonaded,
but the artillery was too light to have the desired effect.
An attempt was made to set fire to the basement. He who attempted
it was shot dead from a grated cellar window. Half
an hour was thus spent in vain; scarce any of the defenders of
the house were injured, though many of the assailants were slain.
At length a regiment was left to keep guard upon the mansion
and hold its garrison in check, and the rear division again pressed
forward.
This half hour’s delay, however, of nearly one half of the
army, disconcerted the action. The divisions and brigades thus
separated from each other by the skirmishing attack upon Chew’s
House, could not be reunited. The fog and smoke rendered all
264objects indistinct at thirty yards’ distance; the different parts of
the army knew nothing of the position or movements of each
other, and the commander-in-chief could take no view nor gain
any information of the situation of the whole. The original plan
of attack was only effectively carried into operation in the centre.
The flanks and rear of the enemy were nearly unmolested; still
the action, though disconnected, irregular and partial, was animated
in various quarters. Sullivan, being reinforced by Nash’s
North Carolina troops and Conway’s brigade, pushed on a mile
beyond Chew’s House, where the left wing of the enemy gave
way before him.
Greene and Stephen, with their divisions, having had to make
a circuit, were late in coming into action, and became separated
from each other, part of Stephen’s division being arrested by a
heavy fire from Chew’s House and pausing to return it: Greene,
however, with his division, comprising the brigades of Muhlenberg
and Scott, pressed rapidly forward, drove an advance regiment
of light-infantry before him, took a number of prisoners,
and made his way quite to the market-house in the centre of the
village, where he encountered the right wing of the British drawn
up to receive him. The impetuosity of his attack had an evident
effect upon the enemy, who began to waver. Forman and Smallwood,
with the Jersey and Maryland militia, were just showing
themselves on the right flank of the enemy, and our troops seemed
on the point of carrying the whole encampment. At this moment
a singular panic seized our army. Various causes are
assigned for it. Sullivan alleges that his troops had expended
all their cartridges, and were alarmed by seeing the enemy gathering
on their left, and by the cry of a light-horseman, that the
enemy were getting round them. Wayne’s division, which had
265pushed the enemy nearly three miles, was alarmed by the approach
of a large body of American troops on its left flank, which
it mistook for foes, and fell back in defiance of every effort of
its officers to rally it. In its retreat it came upon Stephen’s division
and threw it into a panic, being, in its turn, mistaken for
the enemy; thus all fell into confusion, and our army fled from
their own victory.
In the mean time, the enemy, having recovered from the first
effects of the surprise, advanced in their turn. General Grey
brought up the left wing, and pressed upon the American troops
as they receded. Lord Cornwallis, with a squadron of light-horse
from Philadelphia, arrived just in time to join in the pursuit.
The retreat of the Americans was attended with less loss
than might have been expected, and they carried off all their
cannon and wounded. This was partly owing to the good generalship
of Greene, in keeping up a retreating fight with the enemy
for nearly five miles; and partly to a check given by Wayne,
who turned his cannon upon the enemy from an eminence, near
White Marsh Church, and brought them to a stand. The retreat
continued through the day to Perkiomen Creek, a distance of
twenty miles.
The loss of the enemy in this action is stated by them to be
seventy-one killed, four hundred and fifteen wounded, and fourteen
missing: among the killed was Brigadier-general Agnew.
The American loss was one hundred and fifty killed, five hundred
and twenty-one wounded, and about four hundred taken prisoners.
Among the killed was General Nash of North Carolina. Among
the prisoners was Colonel Mathews of Virginia, who commanded
a Virginia regiment in the left wing. Most of his officers and
266men were killed or wounded in fighting bravely near the market-house,
and he himself received several bayonet wounds.
Speaking of Washington’s conduct amidst the perplexities
of this confused battle, General Sullivan writes, “I saw,
with great concern, our brave commander-in-chief exposing himself
to the hottest fire of the enemy, in such a manner, that regard
for my country obliged me to ride to him, and beg him to retire.
He, to gratify me and some others, withdrew to a small distance,
but his anxiety for the fate of the day soon brought him up again,
where he remained till our troops had retreated.”
The sudden retreat of the army gave him surprise, chagrin
and mortification. “Every account,” said he, subsequently, in a
letter to the President of Congress, “confirms the opinion I at
first entertained, that our troops retreated at the instant when
victory was declaring herself in our favor. The tumult, disorder,
and even despair, which, it seems, had taken place in the British
army, were scarcely to be paralleled; and it is said, so strongly
did the ideas of a retreat prevail, that Chester was fixed on for
their rendezvous. I can discover no other cause for not improving
this happy opportunity, than the extreme haziness of the
weather.”
So also Captain Heth of Virginia, who was in the action:
“What makes this inglorious flight more grating to us is, that
we know the enemy had orders to retreat, and rendezvous at
Chester; and that upwards of two thousand Hessians had actually
crossed the Schuylkill for that purpose; that the tories were
in the utmost distress, and moving out of the city; that our
friends confined in the new jail made it ring with shouts of joy;
that we passed, in pursuing them, upwards of twenty pieces of
cannon, their tents standing filled with their choicest baggage; in
267fine, every thing was as we could wish, when the above flight
took place.”[92]
No one was more annoyed than Wayne. “Fortune smiled
on us for full three hours,” writes he; “the enemy were broke,
dispersed, and flying in all quarters—we were in possession of
their whole encampment, together with their artillery, park, &c.
&c. A wind-mill attack was made upon a house into which six
light companies had thrown themselves, to avoid our bayonets.
Our troops were deceived by this attack, thinking it something
formidable. They fell back to assist,—the enemy believing it
to be a retreat, followed,—confusion ensued, and we ran away
from the arms of victory open to receive us.”
In fact, as has justly been observed by an experienced officer,
the plan of attack was too widely extended for strict concert,
and too complicated for precise co-operation, as it had to be
conducted in the night, and with a large proportion of undisciplined
militia; and yet, a bewildering fog alone appears to have
prevented its complete success.
But although the Americans were balked of the victory,
which seemed within their grasp, the impression made by the
audacity of this attempt upon Germantown, was greater, we are
told, than that caused by any single incident of the war after
Lexington and Bunker’s Hill.[93]
A British military historian, a contemporary, observes: “In
this action the Americans acted upon the offensive; and though
repulsed with loss, showed themselves a formidable adversary,
capable of charging with resolution and retreating with good
268order. The hope, therefore, entertained from the effect of any
action with them as decisive, and likely to put a speedy termination
to the war, was exceedingly abated.”[94]
The battle had its effect also in France. The Count De
Vergennes observed to the American commissioners in Paris on
their first interview, that nothing struck him so much as General
Washington’s attacking and giving battle to General Howe’s
army; that to bring an army raised within a year to this pass
promised every thing.
The effect on the army itself may be judged from letters written
at the time by officers to their friends. “Though we gave
away a complete victory,” writes one, “we have learnt this
valuable truth, that we are able to beat them by vigorous exertion,
and that we are far superior in point of swiftness. We are
in high spirits; every action gives our troops fresh vigor, and a
greater opinion of their own strength. Another bout or two
must make the situation of the enemy very disagreeable.”[95]
Another writes to his father: “For my own part, I am so fully
convinced of the justice of the cause in which we are contending,
and that Providence, in its own good time, will succeed and
bless it, that, were I to see twelve of the United States overrun
by our cruel invaders, I should still believe the thirteenth would
not only save itself, but also work out the deliverance of the
others.”[96]
CHAPTER XXIV.
269
WASHINGTON AT WHITE MARSH—MEASURES TO CUT OFF THE ENEMY’S SUPPLIES—THE
FORTS ON THE DELAWARE REINFORCED—COLONEL GREENE
OF RHODE ISLAND AT FORT MERCER—ATTACK AND DEFENCE OF THAT
FORT—DEATH OF COUNT DONOP.
Washington remained a few days at Perkiomen Creek, to give
his army time to rest, and recover from the disorder incident to
a retreat. Having been reinforced by the arrival of twelve hundred
Rhode Island troops from Peekskill, under General Varnum,
and nearly a thousand Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania
troops, he gradually drew nearer to Philadelphia, and took
a strong position at White Marsh, within fourteen miles of that
city. By a resolution of Congress, all persons taken within
thirty miles of any place occupied by British troops, in the act
of conveying supplies to them, were subjected to martial law.
Acting under the resolution, Washington detached large bodies of
militia to scour the roads above the city, and between the Schuylkill
and Chester, to intercept all supplies going to the enemy.
On the forts and obstructions in the river, Washington mainly
counted to complete the harassment of Philadelphia. These
defences had been materially impaired. The works at Billingsport
had been attacked and destroyed, and some of the enemy’s
270ships had forced their way through the chevaux-de-frise placed
there. The American frigate Delaware, stationed in the river
between the upper forts and Philadelphia, had run aground
before a British battery, and been captured.
It was now the great object of the Howes to reduce and
destroy, and of Washington to defend and maintain, the remaining
forts and obstructions. Fort Mifflin, which we have already
mentioned, was erected on a low, green, reedy island in the Delaware,
a few miles below Philadelphia, and below the mouth of
the Schuylkill. It consisted of a strong redoubt, with extensive
outworks and batteries. There was but a narrow channel between
the island and the Pennsylvania shore. The main channel,
practicable for ships, was on the other side. In this were sunk
strong chevaux-de-frise, difficult either to be weighed or cut
through, and dangerous to any ships that might run against them;
subjected as they would be to the batteries of Fort Mifflin on
one side, and on the other to those of Fort Mercer, a strong work
at Red Bank on the Jersey shore.
Fort Mifflin was garrisoned by troops of the Maryland line,
under Lieutenant-colonel Samuel Smith of Baltimore; and had
kept up a brave defence against batteries erected by the enemy
on the Pennsylvania shore. A reinforcement of Virginia troops
made the garrison between three and four hundred strong.
Floating batteries, galleys, and fire-ships, commanded by
Commodore Hazelwood, were stationed under the forts and about
the river.
Fort Mercer had hitherto been garrisoned by militia, but
Washington now replaced them by four hundred of General
Varnum’s Rhode Island Continentals. Colonel Christopher
Greene was put in command; a brave officer who had accompanied
271Arnold in his rough expedition to Canada, and fought valiantly
under the walls of Quebec. “The post with which you
are intrusted,” writes Washington in his letter of instructions,
“is of the utmost importance to America. The whole defence
of the Delaware depends upon it; and consequently all the
enemy’s hopes of keeping Philadelphia, and finally succeeding in
the present campaign.”
Colonel Greene was accompanied by Captain Mauduit Duplessis,
who was to have the direction of the artillery. He was a
young French engineer of great merit, who had volunteered in
the American cause, and received a commission from Congress.
The chevaux-de-frise in the river had been constructed under his
superintendence.
Greene, aided by Duplessis, made all haste to put Fort Mercer
in a state of defence; but before the outworks were completed,
he was surprised (October 22) by the appearance of a
large force emerging from a wood within cannon shot of the fort.
Their uniforms showed them to be Hessians. They were, in fact,
four battalions twelve hundred strong of grenadiers, picked men,
beside light-infantry and chasseurs, all commanded by Count
Donop, who had figured in the last year’s campaign.
Colonel Greene, in nowise dismayed by the superiority of the
enemy, forming in glistening array before the wood, prepared for
a stout resistance. In a little while an officer was descried, riding
slowly up with a flag, accompanied by a drummer. Greene
ordered his men to keep out of sight, that the fort might appear
but slightly garrisoned.
When within proper distance, the drummer sounded a parley,
and the officer summoned the garrison to surrender; with a
threat of no quarter in case of resistance.
272Greene’s reply was, that the post would be defended to the
last extremity.
The flag rode back and made report. Forthwith the Hessians
were seen at work throwing up a battery within half a mile
of the outworks. It was finished by four o’clock, and opened a
heavy cannonade, under cover of which the enemy were preparing
to approach.
As the American outworks were but half finished, and were
too extensive to be manned by the garrison, it was determined by
Greene and Duplessis that the troops should make but a short
stand there; to gall the enemy in their approach, and then retire
within the redoubt, which was defended by a deep intrenchment,
boarded and fraised.
Donop led on his troops in gallant style, under cover of a
heavy fire from his battery. They advanced in two columns, to
attack the outworks in two places. As they advanced, they were
excessively galled by a flanking fire from the American galleys
and batteries, and by sharp volleys from the outworks. The latter,
however, as had been concerted, were quickly abandoned by
the garrison. The enemy entered at two places, and, imagining
the day their own, the two columns pushed on with shouts to
storm different parts of the redoubt. As yet, no troops were to
be seen; but as one of the columns approached the redoubt on
the north side, a tremendous discharge of grape shot and musketry
burst forth from the embrasures in front, and a half-masked
battery on the left. The slaughter was prodigious; the column
was driven back in confusion. Count Donop, with the other column,
in attempting the south side of the redoubt, had passed the
abatis; some of his men had traversed the fosse; others had
clambered over the pickets, when a similar tempest of artillery
273and musketry burst upon them. Some were killed on the spot,
many were wounded, and the rest were driven out. Donop
himself was wounded, and remained on the spot; Lieutenant-colonel
Mingerode, the second in command, was also dangerously
wounded. Several other of the best officers were slain or disabled.
Lieutenant-colonel Linsing, the oldest remaining officer
endeavored to draw off the troops in good order, but in vain;
they retreated in confusion, hotly pursued, and were again cut
up in their retreat by the flanking fire from the galleys and
floating batteries.
The loss of the enemy in killed and wounded, in this brief
but severe action, was about four hundred men. That of the
Americans, eight killed and twenty-nine wounded.
As Captain Mauduit Duplessis was traversing the scene of
slaughter after the repulse, he was accosted by a voice from
among the slain: “Whoever you are, draw me hence.” It was
the unfortunate Count Donop. Duplessis had him conveyed to a
house near the fort, where every attention was paid to his comfort.
He languished for three days, during which Duplessis was
continually at his bedside. “This is finishing a noble career
early,” said the count sadly, as he found his death approaching,—then,
as if conscious of the degrading service in which he had
fallen, hired out by his prince to aid a foreign power in quelling
the brave struggle of a people for their liberty, and contrasting
it with that in which the chivalrous youth by his bedside was
engaged—“I die,” added he bitterly, “the victim of my ambition,
and of the avarice of my sovereign.”[97] He was but thirty-seven
years of age at the time of his death.
274According to the plan of the enemy, Fort Mifflin, opposite to
Fort Mercer, was to have been attacked at the same time by
water. The force employed was the Augusta of sixty-four guns;
the Roebuck of forty-four, two frigates, the Merlin sloop of
eighteen guns, and a galley. They forced their way through the
lower line of chevaux-de-frise; but the Augusta and Merlin ran
aground below the second line, and every effort to get them off
proved fruitless. To divert attention from their situation, the
other vessels drew as near to Fort Mifflin as they could, and
opened a cannonade; but the obstructions in the river had so
altered the channel that they could not get within very effective
distance. They kept up a fire upon the fort throughout the
evening, and recommenced it early in the morning, as did likewise
the British batteries on the Pennsylvania shore; hoping that
under cover of it the ships might be got off. A strong adverse
wind, however, kept the tide from rising sufficiently to float them.
The Americans discovered their situation, and sent down
four fire-ships to destroy them, but without effect. A heavy fire
was now opened upon them from the galleys and floating batteries.
It was warmly returned. In the course of the action, a red-hot
shot set the Augusta on fire. It was impossible to check the
flames. All haste was made with boats to save the crew, while
the other ships drew off as fast as possible to get out of the
reach of the explosion. She blew up, however, while the second
lieutenant, the chaplain, the gunner, and several of the crew
were yet on board, most of whom perished. The Merlin was
now set on fire and abandoned; the Roebuck and the other vessels
dropped down the river, and the attack on Fort Mifflin was
given up.
These signal repulses of the enemy had an animating effect
275on the public mind, and were promptly noticed by Congress.
Colonel Greene, who commanded at Fort Mercer, Lieutenant-colonel
Smith of Maryland, who commanded at Fort Mifflin, and
Commodore Hazelwood, who commanded the galleys, received
the thanks of that body; and subsequently, a sword was voted
to each, as a testimonial of distinguished merit.
CHAPTER XXV.
276
DE KALB COMMISSIONED MAJOR-GENERAL—PRETENSIONS OF CONWAY—THWARTED
BY WASHINGTON—CONWAY CABAL—GATES REMISS IN CORRESPONDENCE—DILATORY
IN FORWARDING TROOPS—MISSION OF HAMILTON TO GATES—WILKINSON
BEARER OF DESPATCHES TO CONGRESS—A TARDY TRAVELLER—HIS
REWARD—CONWAY CORRESPONDENCE DETECTED—WASHINGTON’S APOLOGY
FOR HIS ARMY.
We have heretofore had occasion to advert to the annoyances
and perplexities occasioned to Washington by the claims and pretensions
of foreign officers who had entered into the service.
Among the officers who came out with Lafayette, was the Baron
De Kalb, a German by birth, but who had long been employed
in the French service, and though a silver-haired veteran, sixty
years of age, was yet fresh and active and vigorous; which some
attributed to his being a rigid water drinker. In the month of
September, Congress had given him the commission of major-general,
to date with that of Lafayette.
This instantly produced a remonstrance from Brigadier-general
Conway, the Gallic Hibernian, of whom we have occasionally
made mention, who considered himself slighted and forgot, in
their giving a superior rank to his own to a person who had not
rendered the cause the least service, and who had been his inferior
in France. He claimed, therefore, for himself, the rank of
277major-general, and was supported in his pretensions by persons
both in and out of Congress; especially by Mifflin, the quartermaster-general.
Washington had already been disgusted by the overweening
presumption of Conway, and was surprised to hear that his application
was likely to be successful. He wrote on the 17th of
October, to Richard Henry Lee, then in Congress, warning him
that such an appointment would be as unfortunate a measure as
ever was adopted—one that would give a fatal blow to the existence
of the army. “Upon so interesting a subject,” observes he,
“I must speak plainly. The duty I owe my country, the ardent
desire I have to promote its true interests, and justice to individuals,
require this of me. General Conway’s merit as an officer,
and his importance in this army, exist more in his own imagination
than in reality. For it is a maxim with him to leave no service
of his own untold, nor to want any thing which is to be
obtained by importunity. * * * * I would ask why the
youngest brigadier in the service should be put over the heads
of the oldest, and thereby take rank and command of gentlemen
who but yesterday were his seniors; gentlemen who, as I will be
bound to say in behalf of some of them at least, are of sound
judgment and unquestionable bravery. * * * * * *
This truth I am well assured of, that they will not serve under
him. I leave you to guess, therefore, at the situation this army
would be in at so important a crisis, if this event should take
place.”
This opposition to his presumptuous aspirations, at once threw
Conway into a faction forming under the auspices of General
Mifflin. This gentleman had recently tendered his resignation
of the commission of major-general and quartermaster-general
278on the plea of ill health, but was busily engaged in intrigues
against the commander-in-chief, towards whom he had long cherished
a secret hostility. Conway now joined with him heart and
hand, and soon became so active and prominent a member of
the faction that it acquired the name of Conway’s Cabal. The
object was to depreciate the military character of Washington,
in comparison with that of Gates, to whom was attributed the
whole success of the Northern campaign. Gates was perfectly
ready for such an elevation. He was intoxicated by his good
fortune, and seemed to forget that he had reaped where he had
not sown, and that the defeat of Burgoyne had been insured
by plans concerted and put in operation before his arrival in the
Northern Department.
In fact, in the excitement of his vanity, Gates appears to
have forgotten that there was a commander-in-chief, to whom he
was accountable. He neglected to send him any despatch on
the subject of the surrender of Burgoyne, contenting himself
with sending one to Congress, then sitting at Yorktown. Washington
was left to hear of the important event by casual rumor,
and was for several days in anxious uncertainty, until he received
a copy of the capitulation in a letter from General Putnam.
Gates was equally neglectful to inform him of the disposition
he intended to make of the army under his command. He
delayed even to forward Morgan’s rifle corps, though their services
were no longer needed in his camp, and were so much required
in the South. It was determined, therefore, in a council
of war, that one of Washington’s staff should be sent to Gates
to represent the critical state of affairs, and that a large reinforcement
from the Northern army would, in all probability,
reduce General Howe to the same situation with Burgoyne,
279should he remain in Philadelphia, without being able to remove
the obstructions in the Delaware, and open a free communication
with his shipping.
Colonel Alexander Hamilton, his youthful but intelligent
aide-de-camp, was charged with this mission. He bore a letter
from Washington to Gates, dated October 30th, of which the
following is an extract.
“By this opportunity, I do myself the pleasure to congratulate
you on the signal success of the army under your command,
in compelling General Burgoyne and his whole force to surrender
themselves prisoners of war; an event that does the highest
honor to the American arms, and which, I hope, will be attended
with the most extensive and happy consequences. At the same
time, I cannot but regret that a matter of such magnitude, and
so interesting to our general operations, should have reached me
by report only; or through the channel of letters not bearing
that authenticity which the importance of it required, and which
it would have received by a line under your signature stating the
simple fact.”
Such was the calm and dignified notice of an instance of
official disrespect, almost amounting to insubordination. It is
doubtful whether Gates, in his state of mental effervescence, felt
the noble severity of the rebuke.
The officer whom Gates had employed as bearer of his
despatch to Congress, was Wilkinson, his adjutant-general and
devoted sycophant: a man at once pompous and servile. He
was so long on the road that the articles of the treaty, according
to his own account, reached the grand army before he did the
Congress. Even after his arrival at Yorktown he required three
days to arrange his papers, preparing to deliver them in style.
280At length, eighteen days after the surrender of Burgoyne had
taken place, he formally laid the documents concerning it before
Congress, preluding them with a message in the name of Gates,
but prepared the day before by himself, and following them up
by comments, explanatory and eulogistic, of his own.
He evidently expected to produce a great effect by this rhetorical
display, and to be signally rewarded for his good tidings,
but Congress were as slow in expressing their sense of his services,
as he had been in rendering them. He swelled and chafed
under this neglect, but affected to despise it. In a letter to his
patron, Gates, he observes: “I have not been honored with any
mark of distinction from Congress. Indeed, should I receive no
testimony of their approbation of my conduct, I shall not be
mortified. My hearty contempt of the world will shield me
from such pitiful sensations.”[98]
A proposal was at length made in Congress that a sword
should be voted to him as the bearer of such auspicious tidings:
upon which Dr. Witherspoon, a shrewd Scot, exclaimed, “I think
ye’ll better gie the lad a pair of spurs.”[99]
A few days put an end to Wilkinson’s suspense, and probably
reconciled him to the world; he was breveted a brigadier-general.
A fortuitous circumstance, which we shall explain hereafter,
apprised Washington about this time that a correspondence,
derogatory to his military character and conduct, was going on
between General Conway and General Gates. It was a parallel
case with Lee’s correspondence of the preceding year; and
Washington conducted himself in it with the same dignified
forbearance, contenting himself with letting Conway know, by the
281following brief note, dated November 9th, that his correspondence
was detected.
“Sir—A letter which I received last night contained the following
paragraph—‘In a letter from General Conway to General
Gates, he says, “Heaven has determined to save your country,
or a weak general and bad counsellors would have ruined it.”’
“I am, sir, your humble servant,
“George Washington.”
The brevity of this note rendered it the more astounding.
It was a hand-grenade thrown into the midst of the cabal. The
effect upon other members we shall show hereafter: it seems, at
first, to have prostrated Conway. An epistle of his friend Mifflin
to Gates intimates, that Conway endeavored to palliate to Washington
the censorious expressions in his letter, by pleading the
careless freedom of language indulged in familiar letter writing;
no other record of such explanation remains, and that probably
was not received as satisfactory. Certain it is, he immediately
sent in his resignation. To some he alleged, as an excuse for
resigning, the disparaging way in which he had been spoken of by
some members of Congress; to others he observed, that the campaign
was at an end, and there was a prospect of a French war.
The real reason he kept to himself, and Washington suffered it to
remain a secret. His resignation, however, was not accepted by
Congress; on the contrary, he was supported by the cabal, and
was advanced to further honors, which we shall specify hereafter.
In the mean time, the cabal went on to make invidious comparisons
between the achievements of the two armies, deeply
derogatory to that under Washington. Publicly, he took no
282notice of them; but they drew from him the following apology
for his army, in a noble and characteristic letter to his friend,
the celebrated Patrick Henry, then governor of Virginia. “The
design of this,” writes he, “is only to inform you, and with great
truth I can do it, strange as it may seem, that the army which I
have had under my immediate command, has not, at any one
time, since General Howe’s landing at the Head of Elk, been
equal in point of numbers to his. In ascertaining this, I do not
confine myself to Continental troops, but comprehend militia.
The disaffected and lukewarm in this State, in whom unhappily
it too much abounds, taking advantage of the distraction in the
government, prevented those vigorous exertions, which an invaded
State ought to have yielded. * * * * * I was left to fight
two battles, in order, if possible, to save Philadelphia, with less
numbers than composed the army of my antagonist, whilst the
world has given us at least double. This impression, though
mortifying in some points of view, I have been obliged to encourage;
because, next to being strong, it is best to be thought
so by the enemy; and to this cause, principally, I think is
to be attributed the slow movements of General Howe.
“How different the case in the Northern Department! There
the States of New York and New England, resolving to crush
Burgoyne, continued pouring in their troops, till the surrender of
that army; at which time not less than fourteen thousand militia,
as I have been informed, were actually in General Gates’s camp,
and those composed, for the most part, of the best yeomanry in
the country, well armed, and in many instances supplied with
provisions of their own carrying. Had the same spirit pervaded
the people of this and the neighboring States, we might before
283this time have had General Howe nearly in the situation of General
Burgoyne. * * * * * *
“My own difficulties, in the course of the campaign, have
been not a little increased by the extra aid of Continental troops,
which the gloomy prospect of our affairs in the North immediately
after the reduction of Ticonderoga, induced me to spare
from this army. But it is to be hoped that all will yet end well.
If the cause is advanced, indifferent is it to me where or in
what quarter it happens.”
We have put the last sentence in capitals, for it speaks the
whole soul of Washington. Glory with him is a secondary consideration.
Let those who win, wear the laurel—sufficient for
him is the advancement of the cause.
NOTE.
We subjoin an earnest appeal of Washington to Thomas Wharton, President
of Pennsylvania, on the 17th of October, urging him to keep up the
quota of troops demanded of the State by Congress, and to furnish additional
aid. “I assure you, sir,” writes he, “it is a matter of astonishment
to every part of the continent to hear that Pennsylvania, the most opulent and
populous of all the States, has but twelve hundred militia in the field, at a time
when the enemy are endeavoring to make themselves completely masters of,
and to fix their quarters in, her capital.” And Major-general Armstrong,
commanding the Pennsylvania militia, writes at the same time to the Council
of his State:—“Be not deceived with wrong notions of General Washington’s
numbers; be assured he wants your aid. Let the brave step forth, their example
will animate the many. You all speak well of our commander-in-chief
at a distance; don’t you want to see him, and pay him one generous, one martial
visit, when kindly invited to his camp near the end of a long campaign?
There you will see for yourselves the unremitting zeal and toils of all the day
and half the night, multiplied into years, without seeing house or home of his
own, without murmur or complaint; but believes and calls this arduous task
the service of his country and of his God.”
CHAPTER XXVI.
284
FURTHER HOSTILITIES ON THE DELAWARE—FORT MIFFLIN ATTACKED—BRAVELY
DEFENDED—REDUCED—MISSION OF HAMILTON TO GATES—VISITS THE
CAMPS OF GOVERNOR CLINTON AND PUTNAM ON THE HUDSON—PUTNAM ON
HIS HOBBY-HORSE—DIFFICULTIES IN PROCURING REINFORCEMENTS—INTRIGUES
OF THE CABAL—LETTERS OF LOVELL AND MIFFLIN TO GATES—THE
WORKS AT RED BANK DESTROYED—THE ENEMY IN POSSESSION OF
THE DELAWARE.
The non-arrival of reinforcements from the Northern army continued
to embarrass Washington’s operations. The enemy were
making preparations for further attempts upon Forts Mercer and
Mifflin. General Howe was constructing redoubts and batteries
on Province Island, on the west side of the Delaware, within five
hundred yards of Fort Mifflin, and mounting them with heavy
cannon. Washington consulted with his general officers what was
to be done. Had the army received the expected reinforcements
from the North, it might have detached sufficient force to the
west side of the Schuylkill to dislodge the enemy from Province
Island; but at present it would require almost the whole of the
army for the purpose. This would leave the public stores at
Easton, Bethlehem and Allentown, uncovered, as well as several
of the hospitals. It would also leave the post at Red Bank unsupported,
through which Fort Mifflin was reinforced and supplied.
285It was determined, therefore, to await the arrival of the
expected reinforcements from the North, before making any
alteration in the disposition of the army. In the mean time,
the garrisons of Forts Mercer and Mifflin were increased, and
General Varnum was stationed at Red Bank with his brigade, to
be at hand to render reinforcements to either of them as occasion
might require.
On the 10th of November, General Howe commenced a heavy
fire upon Fort Mifflin from his batteries, which mounted eighteen,
twenty-four, and thirty-two pounders. Colonel Smith doubted
the competency of his feeble garrison to defend the works against
a force so terribly effective, and wrote to Washington accordingly.
The latter in reply represented the great importance of
the works, and trusted they would be maintained to the last
extremity. General Varnum was instructed to send over fresh
troops occasionally to relieve those in the garrison, and to prevail
upon as many as possible of the militia to go over. The latter
could be employed at night upon the works to repair the damage
sustained in the day, and might, if they desired it, return to Red
Bank in the morning.
Washington’s orders and instructions were faithfully obeyed.
Major Fleury, a brave French officer, already mentioned, acquitted
himself with intelligence and spirit as engineer; but an
incessant cannonade and bombardment for several days, defied all
repairs. The block-houses were demolished, the palisades beaten
down, the guns dismounted, the barracks reduced to ruins.
Captain Treat, a young officer of great merit, who commanded
the artillery, was killed, as were several non-commissioned officers
and privates; and a number were wounded.
The survivors, who were not wounded, were exhausted by
286want of sleep, hard duty, and constant exposure to the rain.
Colonel Smith himself was disabled by severe contusions, and
obliged to retire to Red Bank.
The fort was in ruins; there was danger of its being carried
by storm, but the gallant Fleury thought it might yet be defended
with the aid of fresh troops. Such were furnished from Varnum’s
brigade: Lieutenant-colonel Russell, of the Connecticut
line, replaced Colonel Smith. He, in his turn, was obliged to
relinquish the command through fatigue and ill health, and was
succeeded by Major Thayer of Rhode Island, aided by Captain
(afterwards commodore) Talbot, who had distinguished himself in
the preceding year by an attack on a ship-of-war in the Hudson.
The present was an occasion that required men of desperate
valor.
On the fourth day the enemy brought a large Indiaman, cut
down to a floating battery, to bear upon the works; but though
it opened a terrible fire, it was silenced before night. The next
day several ships of war got within gunshot. Two prepared to
attack it in front; others brought their guns to bear on Fort
Mercer; while two made their way into the narrow channel
between Mud Island and the Pennsylvania shore, to operate with
the British batteries erected there.
At a concerted signal a cannonade was opened from all quarters.
The heroic little garrison stood the fire without flinching;
the danger, however, was growing imminent. The batteries on
Province Island enfiladed the works. The ships in the inner
channel approached so near as to throw hand-grenades into the
fort, while marines stationed in the round-tops stood ready to pick
off any of the garrison that came in sight.
The scene now became awful; incessant firing from ships,
287forts, gondolas and floating batteries, with clouds of sulphurous
smoke, and the deafening thunder of cannon. Before night there
was hardly a fortification to defend; palisades were shivered,
guns dismounted, the whole parapet levelled. There was terrible
slaughter; most of the company of artillery were destroyed.
Fleury himself was wounded. Captain Talbot received a wound
in the wrist, but continued bravely fighting until disabled by
another wound in the hip.[100]
To hold out longer was impossible. Colonel Thayer made
preparations to evacuate the fort in the night. Every thing was
removed in the evening, that could be conveyed away without too
much exposure to the murderous fire from the round-tops. The
wounded were taken over to Red Bank accompanied by part of
the garrison. Thayer remained with forty men until eleven
o’clock, when they set fire to what was combustible of the fort
they had so nobly defended, and crossed to Red Bank by the
light of its flames.
The loss of this fort was deeply regretted by Washington,
though he gave high praise to the officers and men of the garrison.
Colonel Smith was voted a sword by Congress, and Fleury received
the commission of lieutenant-colonel.
Washington still hoped to keep possession of Red Bank, and
thereby prevent the enemy from weighing the chevaux-de-frise
before the frost obliged their ships to quit the river. “I am
anxiously waiting the arrival of the troops from the northward,”
writes he, “who ought, from the time they have had my orders,
to have been here before this. Colonel Hamilton, one of my
aides, is up the North River, doing all he can to push them forward,
288but he writes me word, that he finds many unaccountable
delays thrown in his way. The want of these troops has embarrassed
all my measures exceedingly.”
The delays in question will best be explained by a few particulars
concerning the mission of Colonel Hamilton. On his
way to the head-quarters of Gates, at Albany, he found Governor
Clinton and General Putnam encamped on the opposite sides of
the Hudson, just above the Highlands; the governor at New
Windsor, Putnam at Fishkill. About a mile from New Windsor,
Hamilton met Morgan and his riflemen, early in the morning
of the 2d of November, on the march for Washington’s camp,
having been thus tardily detached by Gates. Hamilton urged
him to hasten on with all possible despatch, which he promised to
do. The colonel had expected to find matters in such a train,
that he would have little to do but hurry on ample reinforcements
already on the march; whereas, he found that a large part of the
Northern army was to remain in and about Albany, about four
thousand men to be spared to the commander-in-chief; the rest
were to be stationed on the east side of the Hudson with Putnam,
who had held a council of war how to dispose of them. The old
general, in fact, had for some time past been haunted by a project
of an attack upon New York, in which he had twice been
thwarted, and for which the time seemed propitious, now that
most of the British troops were reported to have gone from New
York to reinforce General Howe. Hamilton rather disconcerted
his project by directing him, in Washington’s name, to hurry forward
two Continental brigades to the latter, together with
Warner’s militia brigade; also, to order to Red Bank a body of
Jersey militia about to cross to Peekskill.
Having given these directions, Hamilton hastened on to
289Albany. He found still less disposition on the part of Gates to
furnish the troops required. There was no certainty, he said,
that Sir Henry Clinton had gone to join General Howe. There
was a possibility of his returning up the river, which would
expose the arsenal at Albany to destruction, should that city be
left bare of troops. The New England States, too, would be left
open to the ravages and depredations of the enemy; beside, it
would put it out of his power to attempt any thing against Ticonderoga,
an undertaking of great importance, in which he might
engage in the winter. In a word, Gates had schemes of his own,
to which those of the commander-in-chief must give way.
Hamilton felt, he says, how embarrassing a task it was for
one so young as himself to oppose the opinions and plans of a
veteran, whose successes had elevated him to the highest importance;
though he considered his reasonings unsubstantial, and
merely calculated to “catch the Eastern people.” It was with
the greatest difficulty he prevailed on Gates to detach the brigades
of Poor and Patterson to the aid of the commander-in-chief;
and, finding reinforcements fall thus short from this quarter, he
wrote to Putnam to forward an additional thousand of Continental
troops from his camp. “I doubt,” writes he subsequently to
Washington, “whether you would have had a man from the
Northern army, if the whole could have been kept at Albany
with any decency.”
Having concluded his mission to General Gates, Hamilton
returned to the camp of Governor Clinton. The worthy governor
seemed the general officer best disposed in this quarter to
promote the public weal, independent of personal considerations.
He had recently expressed his opinion to General Gates, that the
army under Washington ought at present to be the chief object
290of attention, “for on its success every thing worth regarding
depended.”
The only need of troops in this quarter at present, was to
protect the country from little plundering parties, and to carry
on the works necessary for the defence of the river. The latter
was the governor’s main thought. He was eager to reconstruct
the fortresses out of which he had been so forcibly ejected; or
rather to construct new ones in a better place, about West Point,
where obstructions were again to be extended across the river.[101]
Putnam, on the contrary, wished to keep as much force as
possible under his control. The old general was once more
astride of what Hamilton termed his “hobby-horse,” an expedition
against New York. He had neglected to forward the troops
which had been ordered to the South: not the least attention had
been paid by him to Hamilton’s order from Albany, in Washington’s
name, for the detachment of an additional thousand of
troops. Some, which had come down from Albany, had been
marched by him to Tarrytown: he himself had reconnoitred the
country almost down to King’s Bridge, and was now advanced to
the neighborhood of White Plains. “Every thing,” writes
Hamilton, “is sacrificed to the whim of taking New York.” The
young colonel was perplexed how to proceed with the brave-hearted,
but somewhat wrong-headed old general; who was in as
bellicose a mood, now that he was mounted on his hobby, as when
291at the siege of Boston he mounted the prize mortar “Congress,”
and prayed for gunpowder.
Hamilton, in his perplexity, consulted Governor Clinton.
The latter agreed with him that an attempt against New York
would be a mere “suicidal parade,” wasting time and men. The
city at present was no object, even if it could be taken, and to
take it would require men that could ill be spared from more substantial
purposes. The governor, however, understood the character
and humors of his old coadjutor, and in his downright way;
advised Hamilton to send an order in the most emphatical terms
to General Putnam, to despatch all the Continental troops under
him to Washington’s assistance, and to detain the militia instead
of them.
A little of the governor’s own hobby, by the way, showed
itself in his councils. “He thinks,” writes Hamilton, “that
there is no need of more Continental troops here than a few, to
give a spur to the militia in working upon the fortifications.”
The “emphatical” letter of Hamilton had the effect the governor
intended. It unhorsed the belligerent veteran when in full
career. The project against New York was again given up, and
the reinforcements reluctantly ordered to the South. “I am
sorry to say,” writes Hamilton, “the disposition for marching in
the officers, and men in general, of these troops, does not keep
pace with my wishes, or the exigency of the occasion. They
have unfortunately imbibed an idea that they have done their part
of the business of the campaign, and are now entitled to repose.
This, and the want of pay, make them adverse to a long march
at this advanced season.”
Governor Clinton borrowed six thousand dollars for Hamilton,
to enable him to put some of the troops in motion; indeed, writes
292the colonel, he has been the only man who has done any thing to
remove these difficulties. Hamilton advised that the command of
the post should be given to the governor, if he would accept
of it, and Putnam should be recalled; “whose blunders and
caprices,” said he, “are endless.”
Washington, however, knew too well the innate worth and
sterling patriotism of the old general, to adopt a measure that
might deeply mortify him. The enterprise, too, on which the
veteran had been bent, was one which he himself had approved
of when suggested under other circumstances. He contented
himself, therefore, with giving him a reprimand in the course of a
letter, for his present dilatoriness in obeying the orders of his
commander-in-chief. “I cannot but say,” writes he, “there has
been more delay in the march of the troops than I think necessary;
and I could wish, that in future my orders may be immediately
complied with, without arguing upon the propriety of
them. If any accident ensues from obeying them, the fault will
be upon me, not upon you.”
Washington found it more necessary than usual, at this
moment, to assert his superior command, from the attempts which
were being made to weaken his stand in the public estimation.
Still he was not aware of the extent of the intrigues that were
in progress around him, in which we believe honest Putnam had
no share. There was evidently a similar game going on with
that which had displaced the worthy Schuyler. The surrender
of Burgoyne, though mainly the result of Washington’s far-seeing
plans, had suddenly trumped up Gates into a quasi rival. A
letter written to Gates at the time, and still existing among his
papers, lays open the spirit of the cabal. It is without signature,
but in the handwriting of James Lovell, member of Congress
293from Massachusetts; the same who had supported Gates in opposition
to Schuyler. The following are extracts: “You have
saved our Northern Hemisphere; and in spite of consummate
and repeated blundering, you have changed the condition of the
Southern campaign, on the part of the enemy, from offensive to
defensive. * * * The campaign here must soon close; if
our troops are obliged to retire to Lancaster, Reading, Bethlehem,
&c. for winter-quarters, and the country below is laid open to the
enemy’s flying parties, great and very general will be the murmur—so
great, so general, that nothing inferior to a commander-in-chief
will be able to resist the mighty torrent of public clamor
and public vengeance.
“We have had a noble army melted down by ill-judged
marches—marches that disgrace the authors and directors, and
which have occasioned the severest and most just sarcasm and
contempt of our enemies.
“How much are you to be envied, my dear general! How
different your conduct and your fortune!
“A letter from Colonel Mifflin, received at the writing of the
last paragraph, gives me the disagreeable intelligence of the loss
of our fort on the Delaware. You must know the consequences—loss
of the river boats, galleys, ships of war, &c.; good winter-quarters
to the enemy, and a general retreat, or ill-judged, blind
attempt on our part to save a gone character.
“Conway, Spotswood, Conner, Ross, and Mifflin resigned, and
many other brave and good officers are preparing their letters to
Congress on the same subject. In short, this army will be totally
lost, unless you come down and collect the virtuous band who
wish to fight under your banner, and with their aid save the Southern
294Hemisphere. Prepare yourself for a jaunt to this place—Congress
must send for you.”[102]
Under such baleful supervision, of which, as we have observed,
he was partly conscious, but not to its full extent, Washington was
obliged to carry on a losing game, in which the very elements
seemed to conspire against him.
In the mean time, Sir William Howe was following up the
reduction of Fort Mifflin by an expedition against Fort Mercer,
which still impeded the navigation of the Delaware. On the 17th
of November, Lord Cornwallis was detached with two thousand
men to cross from Chester into the Jerseys, where he would be
joined by a force advancing from New York.
Apprised of this movement, Washington detached General
Huntington, with a brigade, to join Varnum at Red Bank. General
Greene was also ordered to repair thither with his division,
and an express was sent off to General Glover, who was on his
way through the Jerseys with his brigade, directing him to file
off to the left towards the same point. These troops, with such
militia as could be collected, Washington hoped would be sufficient
to save the fort. Before they could form a junction,
however, and reach their destination, Cornwallis appeared before
it. A defence against such superior force was hopeless. The
works were abandoned; they were taken possession of by the
enemy, who proceeded to destroy them. After the destruction
had been accomplished, the reinforcements from the North, so
long and so anxiously expected, and so shamefully delayed, made
their appearance. “Had they arrived but ten days sooner,”
writes Washington to his brother, “it would, I think, have put
295it in my power to save Fort Mifflin, which defended the chevaux-de-frise,
and consequently have rendered Philadelphia a very
ineligible situation for the enemy this winter.”
The troops arrived in ragged plight, owing to the derangement
of the commissariat. A part of Morgan’s rifle corps was absolutely
unable to take the field for want of shoes, and such was
the prevalent want in this particular, that ten dollars reward was
offered in general orders for a model of the best substitute for
shoes that could be made out of raw hides.
The evil which Washington had so anxiously striven to prevent
had now been effected. The American vessels stationed in the
river had lost all protection. Some of the galleys escaped past
the batteries of Philadelphia in a fog, and took refuge in the
upper part of the Delaware; the rest were set on fire by their
crews and abandoned.
The enemy were now in possession of the river, but it was
too late in the season to clear away the obstructions, and open a
passage for the large ships. All that could be effected at present,
was to open a sufficient channel for transports and vessels of easy
burden, to bring provisions and supplies for the army.
Washington advised the navy board, now that the enemy had
the command of the river, to have all the American frigates
scuttled and sunk immediately. The board objected to sinking
them, but said they should be ballasted and plugged, ready to be
sunk in case of attack. Washington warned them that an attack
would be sudden, so as to get possession of them before they could
be sunk or destroyed;—his advice and warning were unheeded;
the consequence will hereafter be shown.
CHAPTER XXVII.
296
QUESTION OF AN ATTACK ON PHILADELPHIA—GENERAL REED AT HEAD-QUARTERS—ENEMY’S
WORKS RECONNOITRED—OPINIONS IN A COUNCIL OF WAR—EXPLOIT
OF LAFAYETTE—RECEIVES COMMAND OF A DIVISION—MODIFICATION
OF THE BOARD OF WAR—GATES TO PRESIDE—LETTER OF LOVELL—SALLY
FORTH OF GENERAL HOWE—EVOLUTIONS AND SKIRMISHES—CONWAY
INSPECTOR-GENERAL—CONSULTATION ABOUT WINTER-QUARTERS—DREARY
MARCH TO VALLEY FORGE—HUTTING—WASHINGTON’S VINDICATORY LETTERS—RETROSPECT
OF THE YEAR.
On the evening of the 24th of November Washington reconnoitred,
carefully and thoughtfully, the lines and defences about
Philadelphia, from the opposite side of the Schuylkill. His army
was now considerably reinforced; the garrison was weakened by
the absence of a large body of troops under Lord Cornwallis in the
Jerseys. Some of the general officers thought this an advantageous
moment for an attack upon the city. Such was the opinion of
Lord Stirling; and especially of General Wayne, Mad Anthony,
as he was familiarly called, always eager for some daring enterprise.
The recent victory at Saratoga had dazzled the public
mind, and produced a general impatience for something equally
striking and effective in this quarter. Reed, Washington’s former
secretary, now a brigadier-general, shared largely in this feeling.
He had written a letter to Gates, congratulating him on having
297“reduced his proud and insolent enemy to the necessity of laying
his arms at his feet;” assuring him that it would “enroll his
name with the happy few who shine in history, not as conquerors,
but as distinguished generals. I have for some time,” adds he,
“volunteered with this army, which, notwithstanding the labors
and efforts of its amiable chief, has yet gathered no laurels.”[103]
Reed was actually at head-quarters as a volunteer, again enjoying
much of Washington’s confidence, and anxious that he
should do something to meet the public wishes. Washington was
aware of this prevalent feeling, and that it was much wrought on
by the intrigues of designing men, and by the sarcasms of the
press. He was now reconnnoitring the enemy’s works to judge
of the policy of the proposed attack. “A vigorous exertion is
under consideration,” writes Reed; “God grant it may be successful!”[104]
Every thing in the neighborhood of the enemy’s lines bore
traces of the desolating hand of war. Several houses, owned
probably by noted patriots, had been demolished; others burnt.
Villas stood roofless; their doors and windows, and all the woodwork,
had been carried off to make huts for the soldiery. Nothing
but bare walls remained. Gardens had been trampled down and
destroyed; not a fence nor fruit-tree was to be seen. The gathering
gloom of a November evening heightened the sadness of this
desolation.
With an anxious eye Washington scrutinized the enemy’s
works. They appeared to be exceeding strong. A chain of redoubts
extended along the most commanding ground from the
Schuylkill to the Delaware. They were framed, planked, and of
298great thickness, and were surrounded by a deep ditch, enclosed
and fraised. The intervals were filled with an abatis, in constructing
which all the apple trees of the neighborhood, beside
forest trees, had been sacrificed.[105]
The idea of Lord Stirling and those in favor of an attack,
was, that it should be at different points at daylight; the main
body to attack the lines to the north of the city, while Greene,
embarking his men in boats at Dunk’s Ferry, and passing down
the Delaware, and Potter, with a body of Continentals and
militia, moving down the west side of the Schuylkill, should
attack the eastern and western fronts.
Washington saw that there was an opportunity for a brilliant
blow, that might satisfy the impatience of the public, and silence
the sarcasms of the press; but he saw that it must be struck at
the expense of a fearful loss of life.
Returning to camp, he held a council of war of his principal
officers, in which the matter was debated at great length and with
some warmth; but without coming to a decision. At breaking
up, Washington requested that each member of the council would
give his opinion the next morning in writing, and he sent off a
messenger in the night for the written opinion of General Greene.
Only four members of the council, Stirling, Wayne, Scott
and Woodford, were in favor of an attack; of which Lord Stirling
drew up the plan. Eleven (including Greene) were against
it, objecting, among other things, that the enemy’s lines were too
strong and too well supported, and their force too numerous, well
disciplined and experienced, to be assailed without great loss and
the hazard of a failure.
299Had Washington been actuated by mere personal ambition
and a passion for military fame, or had he yielded to the goadings
of faction and the press, he might have disregarded the loss and
hazarded the failure; but his patriotism was superior to his
ambition; he shrank from a glory that must be achieved at such
a cost, and the idea of an attack was abandoned.
General Reed, in a letter to Thomas Wharton, president of
Pennsylvania, endeavors to prevent the cavilling of that functionary
and his co-legislators; who, though they had rendered very
slender assistance in the campaign, were extremely urgent for
some striking achievement. “From my own feelings,” writes he,
“I can easily judge of yours and the gentlemen round, at the
seeming inactivity of this army for so long a time. I know it is
peculiarly irksome to the general, whose own judgment led to
more vigorous measures; but there has been so great a majority
of his officers opposed to every enterprising plan, as fully justifies
his conduct.” At the same time Reed confesses that he himself
concurs with the great majority, who deemed an attack upon
Philadelphia too hazardous.
A letter from General Greene received about this time, gave
Washington some gratifying intelligence about his youthful friend,
the Marquis de Lafayette. Though not quite recovered from the
wound received at the battle of Brandywine, he had accompanied
General Greene as a volunteer in his expedition into the Jerseys,
and had been indulged by him with an opportunity of gratifying
his belligerent humor, in a brush with Cornwallis’s outposts.
“The marquis,” writes Greene, “with about four hundred militia
and the rifle corps, attacked the enemy’s picket last evening,
killed about twenty, wounded many more, and took about twenty
prisoners. The marquis is charmed with the spirited behavior
300of the militia and rifle corps; they drove the enemy above half a
mile, and kept the ground until dark. The enemy’s picket consisted
of about three hundred, and were reinforced during the
skirmish. The marquis is determined to be in the way of
danger.”[106]
Lafayette himself, at the request of Greene, wrote an animated
yet modest account of the affair to Washington. “I wish,”
observes he, “that this little success of ours may please you,
though a very trifling one, I find it very interesting on account of
the behavior of our soldiers.”[107]
Washington had repeatedly written to Congress in favor of
giving the marquis a command equal to his nominal rank, in consideration
of his illustrious and important connections, the attachment
he manifested to the cause, and the discretion and good
sense he had displayed on various occasions. “I am convinced,”
said he, “he possesses a large share of that military ardor which
generally characterizes the nobility of his country.”
Washington availed himself of the present occasion to support
his former recommendations, by transmitting to Congress an
account of Lafayette’s youthful exploit. He received, in return,
an intimation from that body, that it was their pleasure he should
appoint the marquis to the command of a division in the Continental
army. The division of General Stephen at this time was
vacant; that veteran officer, who had formerly won honor for
himself in the French war, having been dismissed for misconduct
at the battle of Germantown, the result of intemperate habits,
into which he unfortunately had fallen. Lafayette was forthwith
appointed to the command of that division.
301At this juncture (November 27th), a modification took place
in the Board of War, indicative of the influence which was
operating in Congress. It was increased from three to five members:
General Mifflin, Joseph Trumbull, Richard Peters, Colonel
Pickering, and last, though certainly not least, General Gates.
Mifflin’s resignation of the commission of quartermaster-general
had recently been accepted; but that of major-general was continued
to him, though without pay. General Gates was appointed
president of the board, and the President of Congress
was instructed to express to him, in communicating the intelligence,
the high sense which that body entertained of his abilities,
and peculiar fitness to discharge the duties of that important
office, upon the right execution of which the success of the
American cause so eminently depended; and to inform him it
was their intention to continue his rank as major-general, and
that he might officiate at the board or in the field, as occasion
might require; furthermore, that he should repair to Congress
with all convenient despatch, to enter upon the duties of his
appointment. It was evidently the idea of the cabal that Gates
was henceforth to be the master spirit of the war. His friend
Lovell, chairman of the committee of foreign relations, writes to
him on the same day to urge him on. “We want you at different
places; but we want you most near Germantown. Good
God! What a situation we are in; how different from what
might have been justly expected! You will be astonished when
you know accurately what numbers have at one time and another
been collected near Philadelphia, to wear out stockings, shoes
and breeches. Depend upon it, for every ten soldiers placed
under the command of our Fabius, five recruits will be wanted
annually during the war. The brave fellows at Fort Mifflin and
302Red Bank have despaired of succor, and been obliged to quit.
The naval departments have fallen into circumstances of seeming
disgrace. Come to the Board of War, if only for a short season. * * * * If it was not for the defeat of Burgoyne, and the
strong appearances of a European war, our affairs are Fabiused
into a very disagreeable posture.”[108]
While busy faction was thus at work, both in and out of
Congress, to undermine the fame and authority of Washington,
General Howe, according to his own threat, was preparing to
“drive him beyond the mountains.”
On the 4th of December, Captain Allen McLane, a vigilant
officer already mentioned, of the Maryland line, brought word to
head-quarters, that an attack was to be made that very night on
the camp at White Marsh. Washington made his dispositions to
receive the meditated assault, and, in the mean time, detached
McLane with one hundred men to reconnoitre. The latter met
the van of the enemy about eleven o’clock at night, on the Germantown
Road; attacked it at the Three Mile Run, forced it to
change its line of march, and hovered about and impeded it
throughout the night. About three o’clock in the morning the
alarm-gun announced the approach of the enemy. They appeared
at daybreak, and encamped on Chestnut Hill, within three miles
of Washington’s right wing. Brigadier-general James Irvine,
with six hundred of the Pennsylvania militia, was sent out to
skirmish with their light advanced parties. He encountered
them at the foot of the hill, but after a short conflict, in which
several were killed and wounded, his troops gave way and fled in
303all directions, leaving him and four or five of his men wounded
on the field, who were taken prisoners.
General Howe passed the day in reconnoitring, and at night
changed his ground, and moved to a hill on the left, and within
a mile of the American line. It was his wish to have a general
action; but to have it on advantageous terms. He had scrutinized
Washington’s position and pronounced it inaccessible. For
three days he manœuvred to draw him from it, shifting his
own position occasionally, but still keeping on advantageous
ground. Washington was not to be decoyed. He knew the vast
advantages which superior science, discipline and experience,
gave the enemy in open field fight, and remained within his lines.
All his best officers approved of his policy. Several sharp
skirmishes occurred at Edge Hill and elsewhere, in which Morgan’s
riflemen and the Maryland militia were concerned. There
was loss on both sides, but the Americans gave way before a
great superiority of numbers.
In one of these skirmishes General Reed had a narrow escape.
He was reconnoitring the enemy at Washington’s request, when
he fell in with some of the Pennsylvania militia who had been
scattered, and endeavored to rally and lead them forward. His
horse was shot through the head, and came with him to the
ground; the enemy’s flankers were running to bayonet him, as he
was recovering from his fall, when Captain Allen McLane came
up in time with his men to drive them off and rescue him. He
was conveyed from the field by a light-horseman.[109]
On the 7th there was every appearance that Howe meditated
an attack on the left wing. Washington’s heart now beat high,
304and he prepared for a warm and decisive action. In the course
of the day he rode through every brigade, giving directions how
the attack was to be met, and exhorting his troops to depend
mainly on the bayonet. His men were inspirited by his words,
but still more by his looks, so calm and determined; for the
soldier regards the demeanor more than the words of his general
in the hour of peril.
The day wore away with nothing but skirmishes, in which
Morgan’s riflemen, and the Maryland militia under Colonel Gist,
rendered good service. An attack was expected in the night, or
early in the morning; but no attack took place. The spirit
manifested by the Americans in their recent contests, had rendered
the British commanders cautious.
The next day, in the afternoon, the enemy were again in
motion; but instead of advancing, filed off to the left, halted,
and lit up a long string of fires on the heights; behind which
they retreated, silently and precipitately, in the night. By the
time Washington received intelligence of their movement, they
were in full march by two or three routes for Philadelphia. He
immediately detached light parties to fall upon their rear, but
they were too far on the way for any but light-horse to overtake
them.
An intelligent observer writes to President Wharton from the
camp: “As all their movements, added to their repeated declarations
of driving General Washington over the Blue Mountains,
were calculated to assure us of their having come out with the
determination to fight, it was thought prudent to keep our post
upon the hills, near the church. I understand it was resolved
if they did not begin the attack soon, to have fought them at all
events, it not being supposed that they could, consistent with
305their own feelings, have secretly stolen into the city so suddenly
after so long gasconading on what they intended to do.”[110]
Here then was another occasion of which the enemies of
Washington availed themselves to deride his cautious policy.
Yet it was clearly dictated by true wisdom. His heart yearned
for a general encounter with the enemy. In his despatch to the
President of Congress, he writes, “I sincerely wish that they
had made an attack; as the issue, in all probability, from the
disposition of our troops and the strong situation of our camp,
would have been fortunate and happy. At the same time I must
add, that reason, prudence, and every principle of policy forbade
us from quitting our post to attack them. Nothing but success
would have justified the measure; and this could not be expected
from their position.”
At this time, one of the earliest measures recommended by
the Board of War, and adopted by Congress, showed the increasing
influence of the cabal; two inspectors-general were to be
appointed for the promotion of discipline and reformation of
abuses in the army; and one of the persons chosen for this important
office was Conway, with the rank, too, of major-general!
This was tacitly in defiance of the opinion so fully expressed by
Washington of the demerits of the man, and the ruinous effects
to be apprehended from his promotion over the heads of brigadiers
of superior claims. Conway, however, was the secret colleague
of Gates, and Gates was now the rising sun.
Winter had now set in with all its severity. The troops,
worn down by long and hard service, had need of repose. Poorly
clad, also, and almost destitute of blankets, they required a
306warmer shelter than mere tents against the inclemencies of the
season. The nearest towns which would afford winter-quarters,
were Lancaster, York and Carlisle; but should the army retire to
either of these, a large and fertile district would be exposed to be
foraged by the foe, and its inhabitants, perhaps, to be dragooned
into submission.
Much anxiety was felt by the Pennsylvania Legislature on the
subject, who were desirous that the army should remain in the
field. General Reed, in a letter to the president of that body,
writes: “A line of winter-quarters has been proposed and supported
by some of his [Washington’s] principal officers; but I
believe I may assure you he will not come into it, but take post
as near the enemy, and cover as much of the country as the
nakedness and wretched condition of some part of the army will
admit. To keep the field entirely is impracticable, and so you
would think if you saw the plight we were in. You will soon
know the plan, and as it has been adopted principally upon the
opinions of the gentlemen of this State, I hope it will give satisfaction
to you and the gentlemen around you. If it is not doing
what we would, it is doing what we can; and I must say the
general has shown a truly feeling and patriotic respect for us on
this occasion, in which you would agree with me, if you knew all
the circumstances.”
The plan adopted by Washington, after holding a council of
war, and weighing the discordant opinions of his officers, was to
hut the army for the winter at Valley Forge, in Chester County,
on the west side of the Schuylkill, about twenty miles from Philadelphia.
Here he would be able to keep a vigilant eye on that
city, and at the same time protect a great extent of country.
Sad and dreary was the march to Valley Forge; uncheered
307by the recollection of any recent triumph, as was the march to
winter-quarters in the preceding year. Hungry and cold were
the poor fellows who had so long been keeping the field; for provisions
were scant, clothing worn out, and so badly off were they
for shoes, that the footsteps of many might be tracked in blood.
Yet at this very time we are told, “hogsheads of shoes, stockings
and clothing, were lying at different places on the roads and in
the woods, perishing for want of teams, or of money to pay the
teamsters.”[111]
Such were the consequences of the derangement of the commissariat.
Arrived at Valley Forge on the 17th, the troops had still to
brave the wintry weather in their tents, until they could cut
down trees and construct huts for their accommodation. Those
who were on the sick list had to seek temporary shelter wherever
it could be found, among the farmers of the neighborhood.
According to the regulations in the orderly book, each hut was
to be fourteen feet by sixteen; with walls of logs filled in with
clay, six feet and a half high; the fireplaces were of logs plastered;
and logs split into rude planks or slabs furnished the
roofing. A hut was allotted to twelve non-commissioned officers
and soldiers. A general officer had a hut to himself. The same
was allowed to the staff of each brigade and regiment, and the
field officer of each regiment; and a hut to the commissioned
officers of each company. The huts of the soldiery fronted on
streets. Those of the officers formed a line in the rear, and the
encampment gradually assumed the look of a rude military
village.
Scarce had the troops been two days employed in these labors
308when, before daybreak on the 22d, word was brought that a body
of the enemy had made a sortie toward Chester apparently on a
foraging expedition. Washington issued orders to General Huntington
and Varnum, to hold their troops in readiness to march
against them. Their replies bespeak the forlorn state of the
army. “Fighting will be far preferable to starving,” writes
Huntington. “My brigade are out of provisions, nor can the
commissary obtain any meat. I have used every argument my
imagination can invent to make the soldiers easy, but I despair
of being able to do it much longer.”
“It’s a very pleasing circumstance to the division under my
command,” writes Varnum, “that there is a probability of their
marching; three days successively we have been destitute of bread.
Two days we have been entirely without meat. The men must
be supplied, or they cannot be commanded.”
In fact, a dangerous mutiny had broken out among the
famishing troops in the preceding night, which their officers had
had great difficulty in quelling.
Washington instantly wrote to the President of Congress on
the subject. “I do not know from what cause this alarming
deficiency, or rather total failure of supplies arises; but unless
more vigorous exertions and better regulations take place in that
line (the commissaries’ department) immediately, the army must
dissolve. I have done all in my power by remonstrating, by
writing, by ordering the commissaries on this head, from time to
time; but without any good effect, or obtaining more than a
present scanty relief. Owing to this, the march of the army has
been delayed on more than one interesting occasion, in the course
of the present campaign; and had a body of the enemy crossed
the Schuykill this morning, as I had reason to expect, the divisions
309which I ordered to be in readiness to march and meet them
could not have moved.”
Scarce had Washington despatched this letter, when he learnt
that the Legislature of Pennsylvania had addressed a remonstrance
to Congress against his going into winter-quarters, instead
of keeping in the open field. This letter, received in his forlorn
situation, surrounded by an unhoused, scantily clad, half-starved
army, shivering in the midst of December’s snow and cold, put
an end to his forbearance, and drew from him another letter to
the President of Congress, dated on the 23d, which we shall
largely quote; not only for its manly and truthful eloquence, but
for the exposition it gives of the difficulties of his situation,
mainly caused by unwise and intermeddling legislation.
And first as to the commissariat:—
“Though I have been tender, heretofore,” writes he, “of
giving any opinion, or lodging complaints, as the change in that
department took place contrary to my judgment, and the consequences
thereof were predicted; yet, finding that the inactivity
of the army, whether for want of provisions, clothes, or other
essentials, is charged to my account, not only by the common
vulgar, but by those in power, it is time to speak plain in exculpation
of myself. With truth, then, I can declare, that no man,
in my opinion, ever had his measures more impeded than I have
by every department of the army.
“Since the month of July, we have had no assistance from
the quartermaster-general; and to want of assistance from this
department, the commissary-general charges great part of his
deficiency. To this I am to add, that notwithstanding it is a
standing order, and often repeated, that the troops shall always
have two days’ provisions by them, that they might be ready at
310any sudden call; yet an opportunity has scarcely ever offered of
taking an advantage of the enemy, that it has not been either
totally obstructed, or greatly impeded on this account. * * *
As a proof of the little benefit received from a clothier-general,
and as a further proof of the inability of an army, under the circumstances
of this, to perform the common duties of soldiers
(besides a number of men confined to hospitals for want of shoes,
and others in farmers’ houses on the same account), we have, by
a field return this day made, no less than two thousand eight
hundred and ninety-eight men now in camp unfit for duty,
because they are barefoot, and otherwise naked. By the same
return, it appears that our whole strength in Continental troops,
including the eastern brigades, which have joined us since the
surrender of General Burgoyne, exclusive of the Maryland troops
sent to Wilmington, amounts to no more than eight thousand
two hundred in camp fit for duty; notwithstanding which, and
that since the 4th instant, our numbers fit for duty, from the
hardships and exposures they have undergone, particularly on
account of blankets (numbers having been obliged, and still are,
to sit up all night by fires, instead of taking comfortable rest in
a natural and common way), have decreased near two thousand
men.
“We find gentlemen, without knowing whether the army was
really going into winter-quarters or not (for I am sure no resolution
of mine could warrant the remonstrance), reprobating the
measure as much as if they thought the soldiers were made of
stocks or stones, and equally insensible of frost and snow; and
moreover, as if they conceived it easily practicable for an inferior
army, under the disadvantages I have described ours to be—which
are by no means exaggerated—to confine a superior one, in
311all respects well appointed and provided for a winter’s campaign,
within the city of Philadelphia, and to cover from depredation
and waste the States of Pennsylvania and Jersey. But what
makes this matter still more extraordinary in my eye, is, that
these very gentlemen, who were well apprised of the nakedness
of the troops from ocular demonstration, who thought their own
soldiers worse clad than others, and who advised me near a
month ago to postpone the execution of a plan I was about to
adopt, in consequence of a resolve of Congress for seizing clothes,
under strong assurances that an ample supply would be collected
in ten days, agreeably to a decree of the State (not one article of
which, by the by, is yet come to hand), should think a winter’s
campaign, and the covering of those States from the invasion of
an enemy, so easy and practicable a business. I can assure those
gentlemen, that it is a much easier, and less distressing thing, to
draw remonstrances in a comfortable room by a good fireside,
than to occupy a cold, bleak hill, and sleep under frost and snow,
without clothes or blankets. However, although they seem to
have little feeling for the naked and distressed soldiers, I feel
abundantly for them, and, from my soul, I pity those miseries,
which it is neither in my power to relieve nor prevent.
“It is for these reasons, therefore, that I have dwelt upon
the subject; and it adds not a little to my other difficulties and
distress, to find that much more is expected from me than is possible
to be performed, and that, upon the ground of safety and
policy, I am obliged to conceal the true state of the army from
public view, and thereby expose myself to detraction and calumny.”
In the present exigency, to save his camp from desolation,
and to relieve his starving soldiery, he was compelled to exercise
312the authority recently given him by Congress, to forage the
country round, seize supplies wherever he could find them, and
pay for them in money or in certificates redeemable by Congress.
He exercised these powers with great reluctance; rurally
inclined himself, he had a strong sympathy with the cultivators
of the soil, and ever regarded the yeomanry with a paternal eye.
He was apprehensive, moreover, of irritating the jealousy of
military sway, prevalent throughout the country, and of corrupting
the morals of the army. “Such procedures,” writes he to the
President of Congress, “may give a momentary relief; but if
repeated, will prove of the most pernicious consequence. Beside
spreading disaffection, jealousy and fear among the people, they
never fail, even in the most veteran troops, under the most rigid
and exact discipline, to raise in the soldiery a disposition to
licentiousness, to plunder and robbery, difficult to suppress afterward,
and which has proved not only ruinous to the inhabitants,
but in many instances to armies themselves. I regret the occasion
that compelled us to the measure the other day, and shall
consider it the greatest of our misfortunes if we should be under
the necessity of practising it again.”
How truly in all these trying scenes of his military career,
does the patriot rise above the soldier!
With these noble and high-spirited appeals to Congress, we
close Washington’s operations for 1777; one of the most arduous
and eventful years of his military life, and one the most trying
to his character and fortunes. He began it with an empty army
chest, and a force dwindled down to four thousand half-disciplined
men. Throughout the year he had had to contend, not merely with
the enemy, but with the parsimony and meddlesome interference
of Congress. In his most critical times that body had left him
313without funds and without reinforcements. It had made promotions
contrary to his advice, and contrary to military usage;
thereby wronging and disgusting some of his bravest officers. It
had changed the commissariat in the very midst of a campaign,
and thereby thrown the whole service into confusion.
Among so many cross-purposes and discouragements, it was
a difficult task for Washington to “keep the life and soul of the
army together.” Yet he had done so. Marvellous indeed was
the manner in which he had soothed the discontents of his
aggrieved officers, and reconciled them to an ill-requiting service;
and still more marvellous the manner in which he had breathed
his own spirit of patience and perseverance in his yeoman soldiery,
during their sultry marchings and countermarchings through the
Jerseys, under all kinds of privations, with no visible object of
pursuit to stimulate their ardor, hunting, as it were, the rumored
apparitions of an unseen fleet.
All this time, too, while endeavoring to ascertain and counteract
the operations of Lord Howe upon the ocean, and his
brother upon the land, he was directing and aiding military measures
against Burgoyne in the North. Three games were in a
manner going on under his supervision. The operations of the
commander-in-chief are not always most obvious to the public
eye; victories may be planned in his tent, of which subordinate
generals get the credit; and most of the moves which ended in
giving a triumphant check to Burgoyne, may be traced to Washington’s
shifting camp in the Jerseys.
It has been an irksome task in some of the preceding chapters,
to notice the under-current of intrigue and management by
which some part of this year’s campaign was disgraced; yet
even-handed justice requires that such machinations should be
314exposed. We have shown how successful they were in displacing
the noble-hearted Schuyler from the head of the Northern department;
the same machinations were now at work to undermine
the commander-in-chief, and elevate the putative hero of Saratoga
on his ruins. He was painfully aware of them; yet in no part
of the war did he more thoroughly evince that magnanimity
which was his grand characteristic, than in the last scenes of this
campaign, where he rose above the tauntings of the press, the
sneerings of the cabal, the murmurs of the public, the suggestions
of some of his friends, and the throbbing impulses of his own
courageous heart, and adhered to that Fabian policy which he
considered essential to the safety of the cause. To dare is often
the impulse of selfish ambition or harebrained valor: to forbear
is at times the proof of real greatness.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
315
GATES IN THE ASCENDANT—THE CONWAY LETTER—SUSPICIONS—CONSEQUENT
CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN GATES AND WASHINGTON—WARNING LETTER
FROM DR. CRAIK—ANONYMOUS LETTERS—PROJECTED EXPEDITION TO CANADA—LAFAYETTE,
GATES, AND THE BOARD OF WAR.
While censure and detraction had dogged Washington throughout
his harassing campaign, and followed him to his forlorn encampment
at Valley Forge, Gates was the constant theme of popular
eulogium, and was held up by the cabal, as the only one
capable of retrieving the desperate fortunes of the South. Letters
from his friends in Congress urged him to hasten on, take his
seat at the head of the Board of War, assume the management
of military affairs, and save the country!
Gates was not a strong-minded man. Is it a wonder, then,
that his brain should be bewildered by the fumes of incense
offered up on every side? In the midst of his triumph, however
while feasting on the sweets of adulation, came the withering
handwriting on the wall! It is an epistle from his friend Mifflin.
“My dear General,” writes he, “an extract from Conway’s letter
to you has been procured and sent to head-quarters. The extract
was a collection of just sentiments, yet such as should not have
been intrusted to any of your family. General Washington
316enclosed it to Conway without remarks. * * * * My dear
General, take care of your sincerity and frank disposition; they
cannot injure yourself, but may injure some of your best friends.
Affectionately yours.”
Nothing could surpass the trouble and confusion of mind of
Gates on the perusal of this letter. Part of his correspondence
with Conway had been sent to head-quarters. But what part?
What was the purport and extent of the alleged extracts? How
had they been obtained? Who had sent them? Mifflin’s letter
specified nothing; and this silence as to particulars, left an unbounded
field for tormenting conjecture. In fact, Mifflin knew
nothing in particular when he wrote; nor did any of the cabal.
The laconic nature of Washington’s note to Conway had thrown
them all in confusion. None knew the extent of the correspondence
discovered, nor how far they might be individually compromised.
Gates, in his perplexity, suspected that his portfolio had been
stealthily opened and his letters copied. But which of them?—and
by whom? He wrote to Conway and Mifflin, anxiously
inquiring what part of their correspondence had been thus surreptitiously
obtained, and “who was the villain that had played
him this treacherous trick. There is scarcely a man living,” says
he, “who takes a greater care of his letters than I do. I never
fail to lock them up, and keep the key in my pocket. * * * *
No punishment is too severe for the wretch who betrayed me
and I doubt not your friendship for me, as well as your zeal for
our safety, will bring the name of this miscreant to light.”[112]
Gates made rigid inquiries among the gentlemen of his staff
317all disavowed any knowledge of the matter. In the confusion
and perturbation of his mind, his suspicions glanced, or were
turned, upon Colonel Hamilton, as the channel of communication,
he having had free access to head-quarters during his late mission
from the commander in-chief. In this state of mental trepidation,
Gates wrote, on the 8th of December, the following letter
to Washington.
“Sir:—I shall not attempt to describe what, as a private gentleman,
I cannot help feeling, on representing to my mind the
disagreeable situation in which confidential letters, when exposed
to public inspection, may place an unsuspecting correspondent;
but, as a public officer, I conjure your Excellency to give me all
the assistance you can in tracing the author of the infidelity
which put extracts from General Conway’s letters to me into
your hands. Those letters have been stealingly copied, but
which of them, when, and by whom, is to me as yet an unfathomable
secret. * * * * It is, I believe, in your Excellency’s
power to do me and the United States a very important service,
by detecting a wretch who may betray me, and capitally injure
the very operations under your immediate directions. * * *
The crime being eventually so important, that the least loss
of time may be attended with the worst consequences, and it
being unknown to me whether the letter came to you from a
member of Congress, or from an officer, I shall have the honor
of transmitting a copy of this to the president, that the Congress
may, in concert with your Excellency, obtain as soon as possible
a discovery which so deeply affects the safety of the States.
Crimes of that magnitude ought not to remain unpunished.” A
copy of this letter was transmitted by Gates to the President of
Congress.
318Washington replied with characteristic dignity and candor.
“Your letter of the 8th ultimo,” writes he (January 4th),
“came to my hand a few days ago, and, to my great surprise, informed
me that a copy of it had been sent to Congress, for what
reason I find myself unable to account; but, as some end was
doubtless intended to be answered by it, I am laid under the disagreeable
necessity of returning my answer through the same
channel, lest any member of that honorable body should harbor
an unfavorable suspicion of my having practised some indirect
means to come at the contents of the confidential letters between
you and General Conway.
“I am to inform you, then, that Colonel Wilkinson, on his
way to Congress, in the month of October last, fell in with Lord
Stirling at Reading, and, not in confidence, that I ever understood,
informed his aide-de-camp, Major McWilliams, that General
Conway had written this to you: ‘Heaven has been determined
to save your country, or a weak general and bad counsellors
would have ruined it.’ Lord Stirling, from motives of
friendship, transmitted the account with this remark: ‘The
enclosed was communicated by Colonel Wilkinson to Major
McWilliams. Such wicked duplicity of conduct I shall always
think it my duty to detect.’”
Washington adds, that the letter written by him to Conway
was merely to show that gentleman that he was not unapprised of his
intriguing disposition. “Neither this letter,” continues he, “nor
the information which occasioned it, was ever directly or indirectly
communicated by me to a single officer in this army, out
of my own family, excepting the Marquis de Lafayette, who,
having been spoken to on the subject by General Conway, applied
for and saw, under injunctions of secrecy, the letter which contained
319Wilkinson’s information; so desirous was I of concealing
every matter that could, in its consequences, give the smallest
interruption to the tranquillity of this army, or afford a gleam of
hope to the enemy by dissensions therein.” * * * * “Till
Lord Stirling’s letter came to my hands, I never knew that General
Conway, whom I viewed in the light of a stranger to you,
was a correspondent of yours; much less did I suspect that I
was the subject of your confidential letters. Pardon me, then,
for adding, that so far from conceiving the safety of the States
can be affected, or in the smallest degree injured, by a discovery
of this kind, or that I should be called upon in such solemn terms
to point out the author, I considered the information as coming
from yourself, and given with a view to forewarn, and consequently
to forearm me, against a secret enemy, or in other words, a dangerous
incendiary; in which character sooner or later this country
will know General Conway. But in this, as in other matters
of late, I have found myself mistaken.”
This clear and ample answer explained the enigma of the
laconic note to Conway, and showed that the betrayal of the
defamatory correspondence was due to the babbling of Wilkinson.
Following the mode adopted by Gates, Washington transmitted
his reply through the hands of the President of Congress,
and thus this matter, which he had generously kept secret,
became blazoned before Congress and the world.
A few days after writing the above letter, Washington received
the following warning from his old and faithful friend, Dr. Craik,
dated from Maryland, Jan. 6th. “Notwithstanding your unwearied
diligence and the unparalleled sacrifice of domestic happiness
and ease of mind which you have made for the good of your
country, yet you are not wanting in secret enemies, who would
320rob you of the great and truly deserved esteem your country has
for you. Base and villainous men, through chagrin, envy or
ambition, are endeavoring to lessen you in the minds of the people,
and taking underhand methods to traduce your character.
The morning I left camp, I was informed that a strong faction
was forming against you in the new Board of War, and in the
Congress. * * * * The method they are taking is by holding
General Gates up to the people, and making them believe
that you have had a number three or four times greater than the
enemy, and have done nothing; that Philadelphia was given up
by your management, and that you have had many opportunities
of defeating the enemy. It is said they dare not appear openly
as your enemies; but that the new Board of War is composed of
such leading men, as will throw such obstacles and difficulties in
your way as to force you to resign.”[113]
An anonymous letter to Patrick Henry, dated from Yorktown,
Jan. 12th, says among other things, “We have only passed
the Red Sea; a dreary wilderness is still before us, and unless a
Moses or a Joshua are raised up in our behalf, we must perish
before we reach the promised land. * * * * But is our
case desperate? By no means. We have wisdom, virtue and
strength enough to save us, if they could be called into action.
The Northern army has shown us what Americans are capable
of doing with a general at their head. The spirit of the Southern
army is no way inferior to the spirit of the Northern. A
Gates, a Lee, or a Conway, would in a few weeks render them an
irresistible body of men. The last of the above officers has
accepted of the new office of inspector-general of our army, in
321order to reform abuses; but the remedy is only a palliative one.
In one of his letters to a friend, he says, ‘a great and good God
hath decreed America to be free, or the [general] and weak counsellors
would have ruined her long ago.’”[114]
Another anonymous paper, probably by the same hand, dated
January 17th, and sent to Congress under a cover directed to the
president, Mr. Laurens, decried all the proceedings of the Southern
army, declaring that the proper method of attacking, beating
and conquering the enemy, had never as yet been adopted by the
commander-in-chief; that the late success to the Northward was
owing to a change of the commanders; that the Southern army
would have been alike successful had a similar change taken place.
After dwelling on the evils and derangements prevalent in every
department, it draws the conclusion, “That the head cannot
possibly be sound, when the whole body is disordered; that the
people of America have been guilty of idolatry, by making a
man their God, and the God of heaven and earth will convince
them by woful experience, that he is only a man; that no good
may be expected from the standing army until Baal and his
worshippers are banished from the camp.”[115]
Instead of laying this mischievous paper before Congress, Mr.
Laurens remitted it to Washington. He received the following
reply: “I cannot sufficiently express the obligation I feel to
you for your friendship and politeness, upon an occasion in which
I am so deeply interested. I was not unapprised that a malignant
faction had been for some time forming to my prejudice;
which, conscious as I am of having ever done all in my power to
answer the important purposes of the trust reposed in me, could
322not but give me some pain on a personal account. But my chief
concern arises from an apprehension of the dangerous consequences
which intestine dissensions may produce to the common
cause.
“My enemies take an ungenerous advantage of me. They
know the delicacy of my situation, and that motives of policy
deprive me of the defence I might otherwise make against their
insidious attacks. They know I cannot combat their insinuations,
however injurious, without disclosing secrets which it is of
the utmost moment to conceal. But why should I expect to be
exempt from censure, the unfailing lot of an elevated station?
Merit and talents, with which I can have no pretensions of rivalship,
have ever been subject to it. My heart tells me, that it has
ever been my unremitted aim to do the best that circumstances
would permit; yet I may have been very often mistaken in my
judgment of the means, and may in many instances deserve the
imputation of error.”
Gates was disposed to mark his advent to power by a striking
operation. A notable project had been concerted by him and
the Board of War for a winter irruption into Canada. An expedition
was to proceed from Albany, cross Lake Champlain on the
ice, burn the British shipping at St. Johns, and press forward to
Montreal. Washington was not consulted in the matter: the
project was submitted to Congress, and sanctioned by them without
his privity.
One object of the scheme was to detach the Marquis de
Lafayette from Washington, to whom he was devotedly attached,
and bring him into the interests of the cabal. For this purpose
he was to have the command of the expedition; an appointment
which it was thought would tempt his military ambition. Conway
323was to be second in command, and it was trusted that his
address and superior intelligence would virtually make him the
leader.
The first notice that Washington received of the project was
in a letter from Gates, enclosing one to Lafayette, informing the
latter of his appointment, and requiring his attendance at Yorktown
to receive his instructions.
Gates, in his letter to Washington, asked his opinion and
advice; evidently as a matter of form. The latter expressed
himself obliged by the “polite request,” but observed that, as he
neither knew the extent of the objects in view, nor the means to
be employed to effect them, it was not in his power to pass any
judgment upon the subject. He wished success to the enterprise,
“both as it might advance the public good and confer personal
honor on the Marquis de Lafayette, for whom he had a very particular
esteem and regard.”
The cabal, however, had overshot their mark. Lafayette,
who was aware of their intrigues, was so disgusted by the want
of deference and respect to the commander-in-chief evinced in the
whole proceeding, that he would at once have declined the
appointment, had not Washington himself advised him strongly
to accept it.
He accordingly proceeded to Yorktown, where Gates already
had his little court of schemers and hangers on. Lafayette found
him at table, presiding with great hilarity, for he was social in
his habits, and in the flush of recent success. The young marquis
had a cordial welcome to his board, which in its buoyant
conviviality contrasted with the sober decencies of that of the
thoughtful commander-in-chief in his dreary encampment at Valley
Forge. Gates, in his excitement, was profuse of promises.
324Every thing was to be made smooth and easy for Lafayette. He
was to have at least two thousand five hundred fighting men
under him. Stark, the veteran Stark, was ready to co-operate
with a body of Green Mountain Boys. “Indeed,” cries Gates,
chuckling, “General Stark will have burnt the fleet before your
arrival!”
It was near the end of the repast. The wine had circulated
freely, and toasts had been given according to the custom of the
day. The marquis thought it time to show his flag. One toast,
he observed, had been omitted, which he would now propose.
Glasses were accordingly filled, and he gave, “The commander-in-chief
of the American armies.” The toast was received without cheering.
Lafayette was faithful to the flag he had unfurled. In
accepting the command, he considered himself detached from the
main army and under the immediate orders of the commander-in-chief.
He had a favorable opinion of the military talents of
Conway, but he was aware of the game he was playing; he made
a point, therefore, of having the Baron de Kalb appointed to the
expedition; whose commission being of older date than that of
Conway, would give him the precedence of that officer, and make
him second in command. This was reluctantly ceded by the
cabal, who found themselves baffled by the loyalty in friendship
of the youthful soldier.
Lafayette set out for Albany without any very sanguine expectations.
Writing to Washington from Flemington, amid the
difficulties of winter travel, he says: “I go on very slowly;
sometimes drenched by rain, sometimes covered with snow, and
not entertaining many handsome thoughts about the projected incursion
325into Canada. Lake Champlain is too cold for producing
the least bit of laurel; and, if I am not starved, I shall be as
proud as if I had gained three battles.”[116]
CHAPTER XXIX.
326
GATES UNDERTAKES TO EXPLAIN THE CONWAY CORRESPONDENCE—WASHINGTON’S
SEARCHING ANALYSIS OF THE EXPLANATION—CLOSE OF THE CORRESPONDENCE—SPURIOUS
LETTERS PUBLISHED—LAFAYETTE AND THE CANADA
EXPEDITION—HIS PERPLEXITIES—COUNSELS OF WASHINGTON.
Washington’s letter of the 4th of January, on the subject of
the Conway correspondence, had not reached General Gates until
the 22d of January, after his arrival at Yorktown. No sooner
did Gates learn from its context, that all Washington’s knowledge
of that correspondence was confined to a single paragraph
of a letter, and that merely as quoted in conversation by Wilkinson,
than the whole matter appeared easily to be explained or
shuffled off. He accordingly took pen in hand, and addressed
Washington as follows, on the 23d of January: “The letter
which I had the honor to receive yesterday from your Excellency,
has relieved me from unspeakable uneasiness. I now anticipate
the pleasure it will give you when you discover that what
has been conveyed to you for an extract of General Conway’s
letter to me, was not an information which friendly motives
induced a man of honor to give, that injured virtue might be
forearmed against secret enemies. The paragraph which your
Excellency has condescended to transcribe, is spurious. It was
327certainly fabricated to answer the most selfish and wicked purposes.”
He then goes on to declare that the genuine letter of Conway
was perfectly harmless, containing judicious remarks upon
the want of discipline in the army, but making no mention of
weak generals or bad counsellors. “Particular actions rather
than persons were blamed, but with impartiality, and I am convinced
he did not aim at lessening, in my opinion, the merit of
any person. His letter was perfectly harmless; however, now
that various reports have been circulated concerning its contents,
they ought not to be submitted to the solemn inspection of those
who stand most high in the public esteem.
“Anxiety and jealousy would arise in the breast of very
respectable officers, who, sensible of faults which inexperience,
and that alone, may have led them into, would be unnecessarily
disgusted, if they perceived a probability of such errors being
recorded.
“Honor forbids it, and patriotism demands that I should
return the letter into the hands of the writer. I will do it;
but, at the same time, I declare that the paragraph conveyed to
your Excellency as a genuine part of it, was, in words as well as
in substance, a wicked forgery.
“About the beginning of December, I was informed that letter
had occasioned an explanation between your Excellency and
that gentleman. Not knowing whether the whole letter or a
part of it had been stealingly copied, but fearing malice had
altered its original texture, I own, sir, that a dread of the mischiefs
which might attend the forgery, I suspected would be
made, put me some time in a most painful situation. When I
communicated to the officers in my family the intelligence which
328I had received, they all entreated me to rescue their characters
from the suspicions they justly conceived themselves liable to,
until the guilty person should be known. To facilitate the discovery,
I wrote to your Excellency; but, unable to learn whether
General Conway’s letter had been transmitted to you by a member
of Congress, or a gentleman in the army, I was afraid much
time would be lost in the course of the inquiry, and that the
States might receive some capital injury from the infidelity of
the person who I thought had stolen a copy of the obnoxious
letter. Was it not probable that the secrets of the army might
be obtained and betrayed through the same means to the enemy?
For this reason, sir, not doubting that Congress would most
cheerfully concur with you in tracing out the criminal, I wrote to
the president, and enclosed to him a copy of my letter to your
Excellency.
“About the time I was forwarding those letters, Brigadier-general
Wilkinson returned to Albany. I informed him of the
treachery which had been committed, but I concealed from him
the measures I was pursuing to unmask the author. Wilkinson
answered, he was assured it never would come to light; and
endeavored to fix my suspicions on Lieutenant-colonel Troup,[117]
who, he said, might have incautiously conversed on the substance
of General Conway’s letter with Colonel Hamilton, whom you
had sent not long before to Albany. I did not listen to this
insinuation against your aide-de-camp and mine.”
In the original draft of this letter, which we have seen among
the papers of General Gates, he adds, as a reason for not listening
to the insinuation, that he considered it even as ungenerous
329“But,” pursues he, “the light your Excellency has just assisted
me with, exhibiting the many qualifications which are necessarily
blended together in the head and heart of General Wilkinson, I
would not omit this fact; it will enable your Excellency to judge
whether or not he would scruple to make such a forgery as that
which he now stands charged with, and ought to be exemplarily
punished.” This, with considerable more to the same purport,
intended to make Wilkinson the scape-goat, stands cancelled in
the draft, and was omitted in the letter sent to Washington,
but by some means, fair or foul, it came to the knowledge of
Wilkinson, who has published it at length in his Memoirs, and
who, it will be found, resented the imputation thus conveyed.
General Conway, also, in a letter to Washington (dated January
27th), informs him that the letter had been returned to him
by Gates, and that he found with great satisfaction that “the paragraph
so much spoken of did not exist in the said letter, nor any
thing like it.” He had intended, he adds, to publish the letter,
but had been dissuaded by President Laurens and two or three
members of Congress, to whom he had shown it, lest it should
inform the enemy of a misunderstanding among the American
generals. He therefore depended upon the justice, candor, and
generosity of General Washington, to put a stop to the forgery.
On the 9th of February, Washington wrote Gates a long and
searching reply to his letters of the 8th, and 23d of January,
analyzing them, and showing how, in spirit and import, they contradicted
each other; and how sometimes the same letter contradicted
itself. How, in the first letter, the reality of the extracts
was by implication allowed, and the only solicitude shown was to
find out the person who brought them to light; while, in the second
letter, the whole was pronounced, “in word as well as in
330substance, a wicked forgery.” “It is not my intention,” observes
Washington, “to contradict this assertion, but only to intimate
some considerations which tend to induce a supposition, that,
though none of General Conway’s letters to you contained the
offensive passage mentioned, there might have been something in
them too nearly related to it, that could give such an extraordinary
alarm. If this were not the case, how easy in the first
instance to have declared there was nothing exceptionable in
them, and to have produced the letters themselves in support
of it? The propriety of the objections suggested against
submitting them to inspection may very well be questioned.
‘The various reports circulated concerning their contents,’ were
perhaps so many arguments for making them speak for themselves,
to place the matter upon the footing of certainty. Concealment
in an affair which had made so much noise, though not
by my means, will naturally lead men to conjecture the worst,
and it will be a subject of speculation even to candor itself.
The anxiety and jealousy you apprehend from revealing the letter,
will be very apt to be increased by suppressing it.”
We forbear to follow Washington through his stern analysis,
but we cannot omit the concluding paragraph of his strictures
on the character of Conway.
“Notwithstanding the hopeful presages you are pleased to
figure to yourself of General Conway’s firm and constant friendship
to America, I cannot persuade myself to retract the prediction
concerning him, which you so emphatically wish had not been
inserted in my last. A better acquaintance with him, than I
have reason to think you have had, from what you say, and a
concurrence of circumstances, oblige me to give him but little
credit for the qualifications of his heart, of which, at least, I
331beg leave to assume the privilege of being a tolerable judge.
Were it necessary, more instances than one might be adduced
from his behavior and conversation, to manifest that he is capable
of all the malignity of detraction, and all the meanness of
intrigue, to gratify the absurd resentment of disappointed vanity
or to answer the purposes of personal aggrandizement, and promote
the interest of faction.”
Gates evidently quailed beneath this letter. In his reply
February 19th, he earnestly hoped that no more of that time, so
precious to the public, might be lost upon the subject of General
Conway’s letter.
“Whether that gentleman,” says he, “does or does not
deserve the suspicions you express, would be entirely indifferent
to me, did he not possess an office of high rank in the army of
the United States. As to the gentleman, I have no personal
connection with him, nor had I any correspondence previous to
his writing the letter which has given offence, nor have I since
written to him, save to certify what I know to be the contents of
that letter. He, therefore, must be responsible; as I heartily
dislike controversy, even upon my own account, and much more
in a matter wherein I was only accidentally concerned,” &c. &c.
The following was the dignified but freezing note with which
Washington closed this correspondence.
“Valley Forge, 24th Feb. 1778.
“Sir:—I yesterday received your favor of the 19th instant.
I am as averse to controversy as any man; and, had I not been
forced into it, you never would have had occasion to impute to me
even the shadow of a disposition towards it. Your repeatedly and
solemnly disclaiming any offensive views in those matters which
332have been the subject of our past correspondence, makes me willing
to close with the desire you express of burying them hereafter
in silence, and, as far as future events will permit, oblivion.
My temper leads me to peace and harmony with all men; and it
is peculiarly my wish to avoid any personal feuds or dissensions
with those who are embarked in the same great national interest
with myself, as every difference of this kind must, in its consequences,
be very injurious. I am, sir,” &c.
Among the various insidious artifices resorted to about this
time to injure the character of Washington, and destroy public
confidence in his sincerity, was the publication of a series of
letters purporting to be from him to some members of his family,
and to his agent, Mr. Lund Washington, which, if genuine, would
prove him to be hollow-hearted and faithless to the cause he was
pretending to uphold. They had appeared in England in a pamphlet
form, as if printed from originals and drafts found in possession
of a black servant of Washington, who had been left
behind ill, at Fort Lee, when it was evacuated. They had
recently been reprinted at New York in Rivington’s Royal
Gazette; the first letter making its appearance on the 14th of
February. It had also been printed at New York in a handbill,
and extracts published in a Philadelphia paper.
Washington took no public notice of this publication at the
time, but in private correspondence with his friends, he observes:
“These letters are written with a great deal of art. The intermixture
of so many family circumstances (which, by the by, want
foundation in truth) gives an air of plausibility, which renders the
villainy greater; as the whole is a contrivance to answer the
most diabolical purposes. Who the author of them is, I know
333not. From information or acquaintance he must have had some
knowledge of the component parts of my family; but he has
most egregiously mistaken facts in several instances. The design
of his labors is as clear as the sun in its meridian brightness.”[118]
And in another letter, he observes, “They were written to show
that I was an enemy to independence, and with a view to create
distrust and jealousy. It is no easy matter to decide whether
the villainy or the artifice of these letters is greatest.”[119]
The author of these letters was never discovered. He entirely
failed in his object; the letters were known at once to be
forgeries.[120]
334Letters received at this juncture from Lafayette, gave Washington
tidings concerning the expedition against Canada, set on
foot without consulting him. General Conway had arrived at
Albany three days before the marquis, and his first word when
they met was that the expedition was quite impossible. Generals
Schuyler, Lincoln and Arnold, had written to Conway to that
effect. The marquis at first was inclined to hope the contrary,
but his hope was soon demolished. Instead of the two thousand
five hundred men that had been promised him, not twelve hundred
in all were to be found fit for duty, and most part of these were
“naked even for a summer’s campaign;” all shrank from a winter
incursion into so cold a country. As to General Stark and
his legion of Green Mountain Boys, who, according to the gasconade
of Gates, might have burnt the fleet before Lafayette’s
arrival, the marquis received at Albany a letter from the veteran,
“who wishes to know,” says he, “what number of men, for
what time, and for what rendezvous, I desire him to raise.”
Another officer, who was to have enlisted men, would have
done so, had he received money. “One asks what encouragement
his people will have; the other has no clothes; not one of
them has received a dollar of what was due to them. I have
applied to every body, I have begged at every door I could,
these two days, and I see that I could do something were the
expedition to be begun in five weeks. But you know we have
335not an hour to lose; and, indeed, it is now rather too late had we
every thing in readiness.”
The poor marquis was in despair—but what most distressed
him was the dread of ridicule. He had written to his friends
that he had the command of the expedition; it would be known
throughout Europe. “I am afraid,” says he, “that it will reflect
on my reputation, and I shall be laughed at. My fears upon
that subject are so strong, that I would choose to become again
only a volunteer, unless Congress offers the means of mending
this ugly business by some glorious operation.”
A subsequent letter is in the same vein. The poor marquis,
in his perplexity, lays his whole heart open to Washington with
childlike simplicity. “I have written lately to you my distressing,
ridiculous, foolish, and indeed nameless situation. I am
sent, with a great noise, at the head of an army for doing great
things; the whole continent, France and Europe herself, and,
what is worse, the British army, are in great expectations. How far
they will be deceived, how far we shall be ridiculed, you may judge
by the candid account you have got of the state of our affairs.—I
confess, my dear general, that I find myself of very quick feelings
whenever my reputation and glory are concerned in any thing.
It is very hard that such a part of my happiness, without which
I cannot live, should depend upon schemes which I never knew
of but when there was no time to put them in execution. I assure
you, my most dear and respected friend, that I am more
unhappy than I ever was. * * * * I should be very happy
if you were here, to give me some advice; but I have nobody to
consult with.”
Washington, with his considerate, paternal counsels, hastened
to calm the perturbation of his youthful friend, and dispel those
336fears respecting his reputation, excited only, as he observed, “by
an uncommon degree of sensibility.” “It will be no disadvantage
to you to have it known in Europe,” writes he, “that you
have received so manifest a proof of the good opinion and confidence
of Congress as an important detached command. * * * * *
However sensibly your ardor for glory may make you feel
this disappointment, you may be assured that your character
stands as fair as ever it did, and that no new enterprise is necessary
to wipe off this imaginary stain.”
The project of an irruption into Canada was at length formally
suspended by a resolve of Congress; and Washington was
directed to recall the marquis and the Baron de Kalb, the presence
of the latter being deemed absolutely necessary to the army at
Valley Forge. Lafayette at the same time received assurance of
the high sense entertained by Congress of his prudence, activity
and zeal, and that nothing was wanting on his part to give the
expedition the utmost possible effect.
Gladly the young marquis hastened back to Valley Forge, to
enjoy the companionship and find himself once more under the
paternal eye of Washington; leaving Conway for the time in
command at Albany, “where there would be nothing, perhaps, to
be attended to but some disputes of Indians and tories.”
Washington, in a letter to General Armstrong, writes, “I
shall say no more of the Canada expedition than that it is at an
end. I never was made acquainted with a single circumstance
relating to it.”[121]
CHAPTER XXX.
337
MORE TROUBLE ABOUT THE CONWAY LETTER—CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN LORD
STIRLING AND WILKINSON—WILKINSON’S HONOR WOUNDED—HIS PASSAGE
AT ARMS WITH GENERAL GATES—HIS SEAT AT THE BOARD OF WAR UNCOMFORTABLE—DETERMINES
THAT LORD STIRLING SHALL BLEED—HIS
WOUNDED HONOR HEALED—HIS INTERVIEW WITH WASHINGTON—SEES THE
CORRESPONDENCE OF GATES—DENOUNCES GATES AND GIVES UP THE SECRETARYSHIP—IS
THROWN OUT OF EMPLOY—CLOSING REMARKS ON THE CONWAY
CABAL.
The Conway letter was destined to be a further source of
trouble to the cabal. Lord Stirling, in whose presence, at Reading,
Wilkinson had cited the letter, and who had sent information
of it to Washington, was now told that Wilkinson, on being
questioned by General Conway, had declared that no such words
as those reported, nor any to the same effect, were in the letter.
His lordship immediately wrote to Wilkinson, reminding him
of the conversation at Reading, and telling him of what he had
recently heard.
“I well know,” writes his lordship, “that it is impossible you
could have made any such declaration; but it will give great
satisfaction to many of your friends to know whether Conway
made such inquiry, and what was your answer; they would also
be glad to know what were the words of the letter, and I should
be very much obliged to you for a copy of it.”
338Wilkinson found that his tongue had again brought him into
difficulty; but he trusted to his rhetoric, rather than his logic, to
get him out of it. He wrote in reply, that he perfectly remembered
spending a social day with his lordship at Reading, in
which the conversation became general, unreserved and copious;
though the tenor of his lordship’s discourse, and the nature of
their situation, made it confidential. “I cannot, therefore,”
adds he, logically, “recapitulate particulars, or charge my memory
with the circumstances you mention; but, my lord, I disdain
low craft, subtlety and evasion, and will acknowledge it is possible,
in the warmth of social intercourse, when the mind is relaxed
and the heart is unguarded, that observations may have elapsed
which have not since occurred to me. On my late arrival in
camp, Brigadier-general Conway informed me that he had been
charged by General Washington with writing a letter to Major-general
Gates, which reflected on the general and the army.
The particulars of this charge, which Brigadier-general Conway
then repeated, I cannot now recollect. I had read the letter
alluded to; I did not consider the information conveyed in his
Excellency’s letter, as expressed by Brigadier-general Conway,
to be literal, and well remember replying to that effect in dubious
terms. I had no inducement to stain my veracity, were I ever so
prone to that infamous vice, as Brigadier Conway informed me
he had justified the charge.
“I can scarce credit my senses, when I read the paragraph
in which you request an extract from a private letter, which had
fallen under my observation. I have been indiscreet, my lord,
but be assured I will not be dishonorable.”
This communication of Lord Stirling, Wilkinson gives as the
first intimation he had received of his being implicated in the
339disclosure of Conway’s letter. When he was subsequently on
his way to Yorktown to enter upon his duties as secretary of the
Board of War, he learnt at Lancaster that General Gates had
denounced him as the betrayer of that letter, and had spoken of
him in the grossest language.
“I was shocked by this information,” writes he; “I had
sacrificed my lineal rank at General Gates’s request; I had served
him with zeal and fidelity, of which he possessed the strongest
evidence; yet he had condemned me unheard for an act of which
I was perfectly innocent, and against which every feeling of my
soul revolted with horror. * * * * I worshipped honor as
the jewel of my soul, and did not pause for the course to be pursued;
but I owed it to disparity of years and rank, to former
connection and the affections of my own breast, to drain the cup
of conciliation and seek an explanation.”
The result of these, and other considerations, expressed with
that grandiloquence on which Wilkinson evidently prided himself,
was a letter to Gates, reminding him of the zeal and devotion
with which he had uniformly asserted and maintained his cause;
“but, sir,” adds he, “in spite of every consideration, you have
wounded my honor, and must make acknowledgment or satisfaction
for the injury.”
“In consideration of our past connection, I descend to that
explanation with you which I should have denied any other man.
The enclosed letters unmask the villain and evince my innocence.
My lord shall bleed for his conduct, but it is proper I first see
you.”
The letters enclosed were those between him and Lord Stirling,
the exposition of which he alleges ought to acquit him of
340sinister intention, and stamp the report of his lordship to General
Washington with palpable falsehood.
Gates writes briefly in reply. “Sir,—The following extract
of a letter from General Washington to me will show you how
your honor has been called in question; which is all the explanation
necessary upon that matter; any other satisfaction you may
command.”
Then followed the extracts giving the information communicated
by Wilkinson to Major McWilliams, Lord Stirling’s aide-de-camp.
“After reading the whole of the above extract,” adds Gates,
“I am astonished, if you really gave Major McWilliams such
information, how you could intimate to me that it was possible
Colonel Troup had conversed with Colonel Hamilton upon the
subject of General Conway’s letter.”
According to Wilkinson’s story he now proceeded to Yorktown,
purposely arriving in the twilight, to escape observation.
There he met with an old comrade, Captain Stoddart, recounted
to him his wrongs, and requested him to be the bearer of a message
to General Gates. Stoddart refused; and warned him that
he was running headlong to destruction: “but ruin,” observes
Wilkinson, “had no terrors for an ardent young man, who prized
his honor a thousand fold more than his life, and who was willing
to hazard his eternal happiness in its defence.”
He accidentally met with another military friend, Lieutenant-colonel
Ball, of the Virginia line, “whose spirit was as independent
as his fortune.” He willingly became bearer of the following
note from Wilkinson to General Gates:
“Sir,—I have discharged my duty to you, and to my conscience;
meet me to-morrow morning behind the English church,
341and I will there stipulate the satisfaction which you have promised
to grant,” &c.
Colonel Ball was received with complaisance by the general.
The meeting was fixed for eight o’clock in the morning, with
pistols.
At the appointed time Wilkinson and his second, having put
their arms in order, were about to sally forth, when Captain
Stoddart made his appearance, and informed Wilkinson that
Gates desired to speak with him. Where?—In the street near
the door.—“The surprise robbed me of circumspection,” continues
Wilkinson. “I requested Colonel Ball to halt, and followed
Captain Stoddart. I found General Gates unarmed and
alone, and was received with tenderness but manifest embarrassment;
he asked me to walk, turned into a back street, and we
proceeded in silence till we passed the buildings, when he burst
into tears, took me by the hand, and asked me ‘how I could
think he wished to injure me?’ I was too deeply affected to
speak, and he relieved my embarrassment by continuing: ‘I
injure you! it is impossible. I should as soon think of injuring
my own child.’ This language,” observes Wilkinson, “not only
disarmed me, but awakened all my confidence and all my tenderness.
I was silent; and he added, ‘Besides, there was no cause
for injuring you, as Conway acknowledged his letter, and has
since said much harder things to Washington’s face.’
“Such language left me nothing to require,” continues Wilkinson.
“It was satisfactory beyond expectation, and rendered
me more than content. I was flattered and pleased; and if a
third person had doubted the sincerity of the explanation, I would
have insulted him.”
A change soon came over the spirit of this maudlin scene.
342Wilkinson attended as secretary at the War Office. “My reception
from the president, General Gates,” writes he, “did not
correspond with his recent professions; he was civil, but barely
so, and I was at a loss to account for his coldness, yet had no
suspicion of his insincerity.”
Wilkinson soon found his situation at the Board of War
uncomfortable; and after the lapse of a few days set out for
Valley Forge. On his way thither he met Washington’s old
friend, Dr. Craik, and learnt from him that his promotion to the
rank of brigadier-general by brevet, had been remonstrated against
to Congress by forty-seven colonels. He therefore sent in his
resignation, not wishing, he said, to hold it, unless he could wear
it to the honor and advantage of his country; “and this conduct,”
adds he, “however repugnant to fashionable ambition, I find
consistent with those principles in which I early drew my sword
in the present contest.”
At Lancaster, Wilkinson, recollecting his resolve that Lord
Stirling “should bleed for his conduct,” requested his friend,
Colonel Moylan, to deliver a “peremptory message” to his lordship.
The colonel considered the measure rather precipitate,
and suggested that a suitable acknowledgment from his lordship
would be a more satisfactory reparation of the wrong than a sacrifice
of the life of either of the parties. “There is not in the whole
range of my friends, acquaintance, and I might add, in the universe,”
exclaims Wilkinson, “a man of more sublimated sentiment,
or who combined with sound discretion a more punctilious
sense of honor, than Colonel Moylan.” Taking the colonel’s
advice, therefore, he moderated his peremptory message to the
following note: “My Lord,—The propriety or impropriety of
your communicating to his excellency any circumstance which
343passed at your lordship’s board at Reading, I leave to be determined
by your own feelings and the judgment of the public; but
as the affair has eventually induced reflections on my integrity,
the sacred duty I owe my honor obliges me to request from your
lordship’s hand, that the conversation which you have published
passed in a private company during a convivial hour.”
His lordship accordingly gave it under his hand, that the
words passed under such circumstances, but under no injunction
of secrecy. Whereupon Wilkinson’s irritable but easily pacified
honor was appeased, and his sword slept in its sheath.
At Valley Forge Wilkinson had an interview with Washington,
in which the subject of General Conway’s letter was discussed,
and the whole correspondence between Gates and the
commander-in-chief laid before him.
“This exposition,” writes Wilkinson, “unfolded to me a
scene of perfidy and duplicity of which I had no suspicion.” It
drew from him the following letter to Washington, dated March
28th. “I beg you to receive the grateful homage of a sensible
mind for your condescension in exposing to me General Gates’s
letters, which unmask his artifices and efforts to ruin me. The
authenticity of the information received through Lord Stirling
I cannot confirm, as I solemnly assure your Excellency I do not
remember the conversation which passed on that occasion, nor
can I recollect particular passages of that letter, as I had but a
cursory view of it at a late hour. However, I so well remember
its general tenor, that, although General Gates has pledged his
word it was a wicked and malicious forgery, I will stake my
reputation, if the genuine letter is produced, that words to the
same effect will appear.”
344A few days afterwards, Wilkinson addressed the following
letter to the President of Congress.
“Sir,—While I make my acknowledgments to Congress, for
the appointment of secretary to the Board of War and Ordnance,
I am sorry I should be constrained to resign that office;
but, after the acts of treachery and falsehood in which I have
detected Major-general Gates, the president of that board, it is
impossible for me to reconcile it to my honor to serve with
him.”[122]
After recording this letter in his Memoirs, Wilkinson adds:
“I had previously resigned my brevet of brigadier-general, on
grounds of patriotism; but I still retained my commission of
colonel, which was never to my knowledge revoked; yet the
dominant influence of General Gates, and the feuds, and factions,
and intrigues which prevailed in Congress and in the army of
that day, threw me out of employ.”—There we shall leave him;
it was a kind of retirement which we apprehend he had richly
merited, and we doubt whether his country would have been the
loser had he been left to enjoy it for the remainder of his days.
Throughout all the intrigues and manœuvres of the cabal, a
part of which we have laid before the reader, Washington had
conducted himself with calmness and self-command, speaking on
the subject to no one but a very few of his friends; lest a
knowledge of those internal dissensions should injure the service.
In a letter to Patrick Henry he gives his closing observations
concerning them. “I cannot precisely mark the extent of their
views; but it appeared in general, that General Gates was to be
345exalted on the ruin of my reputation and influence. This I am
authorized to say, from undeniable facts in my own possession,
from publications, the evident scope of which could not be mistaken,
and from private detractions industriously circulated.
General Mifflin, it is commonly supposed, bore the second part in
the cabal; and General Conway, I know, was a very active and
malignant partisan; but I have good reason to believe that their
machinations have recoiled most sensibly upon themselves.”
An able and truthful historian, to whose researches we are
indebted for most of the documents concerning the cabal, gives
it as his opinion that there is not sufficient evidence to prove
any concerted plan of action or any fixed design among the
leaders: a few aspiring men like Gates and Mifflin, might have
flattered themselves with indefinite hopes, and looked forward to
a change as promising the best means of aiding their ambitious
views; but that it was not probable they had united in any clear
or fixed purpose.[123]
These observations are made with that author’s usual candor
and judgment; yet, wanting as the intrigues of the cabal might
be in plan or fixed design, they were fraught with mischief to the
public service, inspiring doubts of its commanders and seeking to
provoke them to desperate enterprises. They harassed Washington
in the latter part of his campaign; contributed to the dark
cloud that hung over his gloomy encampment at Valley Forge,
and might have effected his downfall, had he been more irascible
in his temper, more at the mercy of impulse, and less firmly fixed
in the affections of the people. As it was, they only tended to
346show wherein lay his surest strength. Jealous rivals he might
have in the army, bitter enemies in Congress, but the soldiers
loved him, and the large heart of the nation always beat true to
him.
NOTE.
The following anecdote of the late Governor Jay, one of our purest and
most illustrious statesmen, is furnished to us by his son Judge Jay:—
“Shortly before the death of John Adams, I was sitting alone with my
father, conversing about the American Revolution. Suddenly he remarked,
‘Ah, William! the history of that Revolution will never be known. Nobody
now alive knows it but John Adams and myself.’ Surprised at such a declaration,
I asked him to what he referred? He briefly replied, ‘The proceedings
of the old Congress.’ Again I inquired, ‘What proceedings?’ He answered,
‘Those against Washington; from first to last there was a most bitter
party against him.’” As the old Congress always sat with closed doors, the
public knew no more of what passed within than what it was deemed expedient
to disclose.
CHAPTER XXXI.
347
COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENT—REFORMS IN THE ARMY—SCARCITY IN THE
CAMP—THE ENEMY REVEL IN PHILADELPHIA—ATTEMPT TO SURPRISE LIGHT-HORSE
HARRY—HIS GALLANT DEFENCE—PRAISED BY WASHINGTON—PROMOTED—LETTER
FROM GENERAL LEE—BURGOYNE RETURNS TO ENGLAND—MRS.
WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE—BRYAN FAIRFAX VISITS THE
CAMP—ARRIVAL OF THE BARON STEUBEN—HIS CHARACTER—DISCIPLINES
THE ARMY—GREENE MADE QUARTERMASTER-GENERAL.
During the winter’s encampment in Valley Forge, Washington
sedulously applied himself to the formation of a new system for the
army. At his earnest solicitation Congress appointed a committee
of five, called the Committee of Arrangement, to repair to the camp
and assist him in the task.[124] Before their arrival he had collected
the written opinions and suggestions of his officers on the subject,
and from these, and his own observations and experience, had prepared
a document exhibiting the actual state of the army, the defects
of previous systems, and the alterations and reforms that were
necessary. The committee remained three months with him in
camp, and then made a report to Congress founded on his statement.
The reforms therein recommended were generally adopted.
On one point, however, there was much debate. Washington
348had urged that the pay of the officers was insufficient for their
decent subsistence, especially during the actual depreciation of
the currency; and that many resignations were the consequence.
He recommended not only that their pay should be increased,
but that there should be a provision for their future support, by
half pay and a pensionary establishment; so as to secure them
from being absolutely impoverished in the service of their country.
This last recommendation had to encounter a great jealousy
of the army on the part of Congress, and all that Washington
could effect by strenuous and unremitted exertions, was a kind of
compromise, according to which officers were to receive half pay
for seven years after the war, and non-commissioned officers and
privates eighty dollars each.
The reforms adopted were slow in going into operation. In
the mean time, the distresses of the army continued to increase.
The surrounding country for a great distance was exhausted, and
had the appearance of having been pillaged. In some places
where the inhabitants had provisions and cattle they denied it,
intending to take them to Philadelphia, where they could obtain
greater prices. The undisturbed communication with the city
had corrupted the minds of the people in its vicinage. “This
State is sick even unto the death,” said Gouverneur Morris.
The parties sent out to forage too often returned empty-handed.
“For some days past there has been little less than a
famine in the camp,” writes Washington, on one occasion. “A
part of the army has been a week without any kind of flesh, and
the rest three or four days. Naked and starving as they are, we
cannot enough admire the incomparable patience and fidelity of
the soldiery, that they have not been, ere this, excited by their
suffering to a general mutiny and desertion.”
349The committee, in their report, declared that the want of
straw had cost the lives of many of the troops. “Unprovided with
this, or materials to raise them from the cold and wet earth, sickness
and mortality have spread through their quarters in an
astonishing degree. Nothing can equal their sufferings, except
the patience and fortitude with which the faithful part of the
army endure them.” A British historian cites as a proof of the
great ascendency of Washington over his “raw and undisciplined
troops,” that so many remained with him throughout the winter,
in this wretched situation and still more wretched plight; almost
naked, often on short allowance, with great sickness and mortality,
and a scarcity of medicines, their horses perishing by hundreds
from hunger and the severity of the season.
He gives a striking picture of the indolence and luxury which
reigned at the same time in the British army in Philadelphia.
It is true, the investment of the city by the Americans rendered
provisions dear and fuel scanty; but the consequent privations
were felt by the inhabitants, not by their invaders. The latter
revelled as if in a conquered place. Private houses were occupied
without rendering compensation; the officers were quartered
on the principal inhabitants, many of whom were of the Society
of “Friends;” some even transgressed so far against propriety
as to introduce their mistresses into the quarters thus oppressively
obtained. The quiet habits of the city were outraged by
the dissolute habits of a camp. Gaming prevailed to a shameless
degree. A foreign officer kept a faro bank, at which he made a
fortune, and some of the young officers ruined themselves.
“During the whole of this long winter of riot and dissipation,”
continues the same writer, “Washington was suffered to
remain undisturbed at Valley Forge, with an army not exceeding
350five thousand effective men; and his cannon frozen up and immovable.
A nocturnal attack might have forced him to a
disadvantageous action or compelled him to a disastrous retreat,
leaving behind him his sick, cannon, ammunition and heavy baggage.
It might have opened the way for supplies to the city,
and shaken off the lethargy of the British army. In a word,”
adds he, “had General Howe led on his troops to action, victory
was in his power and conquest in his train.”[125]
Without assenting to the probability of such a result, it is
certain that the army for a part of the winter, while it held
Philadelphia in siege, was in as perilous a situation as that which
kept a bold front before Boston, without ammunition to serve its
cannon.
On one occasion there was a flurry at the most advanced post,
where Captain Henry Lee (Light-horse Harry) with a few of his
troops was stationed. He had made himself formidable to the
enemy by harassing their foraging parties. An attempt was
made to surprise him. A party of about two hundred dragoons,
taking a circuitous route in the night, came upon him by daybreak.
He had but a few men with him at the time, and took
post in a large storehouse. His scanty force did not allow a
soldier for each window. The dragoons attempted to force their
way into the house. There was a warm contest. The dragoons
were bravely repulsed, and sheered off, leaving two killed and
four wounded. “So well directed was the opposition,” writes
Lee to Washington, “that we drove them from the stables, and
saved every horse. We have got the arms, some cloaks, &c., of
their wounded. The enterprise was certainly daring, though the
351issue of it very ignominious. I had not a soldier for each window.”
Washington, whose heart evidently warmed more and more to
this young Virginian officer, the son of his “lowland beauty,” not
content with noticing his exploit in general orders, wrote a note
to him on the subject, expressed with unusual familiarity and
warmth. “My dear Lee,” writes he, “although I have given
you my thanks in the general orders of this day, for the late
instance of your gallant behavior, I cannot resist the inclination
I feel to repeat them again in this manner. I needed no fresh
proof of your merit to bear you in remembrance. I waited only
for the proper time and season to show it; those I hope are not
far off. * * * Offer my sincere thanks to the whole of your
gallant party, and assure them, that no one felt pleasure more
sensibly, or rejoiced more sincerely for your and their escape,
than your affectionate,” &c.
In effect, Washington not long afterwards strongly recommended
Lee for the command of two troops of horse, with the
rank of major, to act as an independent partisan corps. “His
genius,” observes he, “particularly adapts him to a command of
this nature; and it will be the most agreeable to him of any station
in which he could be placed.”
It was a high gratification to Washington when Congress
made this appointment; accompanying it with encomiums on Lee
as a brave and prudent officer, who had rendered essential service
to the country, and acquired distinguished honor to himself and
the corps he commanded.
About the time that Washington was gladdened by the
gallantry and good fortune of “Light-horse Harry,” he received
a letter from another Lee, the captive general, still in the hands
352of the enemy. It had been written nearly a month previously.
“I have the strongest reason to flatter myself,” writes Lee, “that
you will interest yourself in whatever interests my comfort and
welfare. I think it my duty to inform you that my situation is
much bettered. It is now five days that I am on my parole. I
have the full liberty of the city and its limits; have horses at my
command furnished by Sir Henry Clinton and General Robertson;
am lodged with two of the oldest and warmest friends I have
in the world, Colonel Butler and Colonel Disney of the forty-second
regiment. In short, my situation is rendered as easy,
comfortable and pleasant as possible, for a man who is in any
sort a prisoner.”
Washington, in reply, expressed his satisfaction at learning
that he was released from confinement, and permitted so many
indulgences. “You may rest assured,” adds he, “that I feel
myself very much interested in your welfare, and that every
exertion has been used on my part to effect your exchange. This
I have not been able to accomplish. However, from the letters
which have lately passed between Sir William Howe and myself,
upon the subject of prisoners, I am authorized to expect that you
will return in a few days to your friends on parole, as Major-general
Prescott will be sent in on the same terms for that
purpose.”
Difficulties, however, still occurred; and General Lee and
Colonel Ethan Allen were doomed for a few months longer to
suffer the annoyance of hope deferred.
The embarkation of General Burgoyne and his troops from
Boston, became also a subject of difficulty and delay; it being
alleged that some stipulations of the treaty of surrender had not
been complied with. After some correspondence, and discussion,
353it was resolved in Congress that the embarkation should be suspended,
until a distinct and explicit ratification of the convention
should be properly notified to that body by the court of Great
Britain. Burgoyne subsequently obtained permission for his own
return to England on parole, on account of ill health.
In the month of February, Mrs. Washington rejoined the
general at Valley Forge, and took up her residence at head-quarters.
The arrangements consequent to her arrival bespeak
the simplicity of style in this rude encampment. “The general’s
apartment is very small,” writes she to a friend; “he has had a
log cabin built to dine in, which has made our quarters much
more tolerable than they were at first.”
Lady Stirling, Mrs. Knox, the wife of the general, and the
wives of other of the officers were also in the camp. The reforms
in the commissariat had begun to operate. Provisions arrived in
considerable quantities; supplies, on their way to the Philadelphia
market to load the British tables, were intercepted and
diverted into the hungry camp of the patriots; magazines were
formed in Valley Forge; the threatened famine was averted;
“grim-visaged war” gradually relaxed his features, and affairs in
the encampment began to assume a more cheering aspect.
In the latter part of the winter, Washington was agreeably
surprised by a visit from his old and highly esteemed friend,
Bryan Fairfax. That gentleman, although he disapproved of
the measures of the British government which had severed the
colonies from the mother country, was still firm in allegiance
to his king. This had rendered his situation uncomfortable
among his former intimates, who were generally embarked in the
Revolution. He had resolved, therefore, to go to England, and
remain there until the peace. Washington, who knew his integrity
354and respected his conscientiousness, received him with the
warm cordiality of former and happier days; for indeed he
brought with him recollections always dear to his heart, of Mount
Vernon, and Belvoir, and Virginia life, and the pleasant banks
of the Potomac. As Mr. Fairfax intended to embark at New
York, Washington furnished him with a passport to that city.
Being arrived there, the conscience of Mr. Fairfax prevented
him from taking the oaths prescribed, which he feared might
sever him from his wife and children, and he obtained permission
from the British commander to return to them. On his way
home he revisited Washington, and the kindness he again experienced
from him, so different from the harshness with which others
had treated him, drew from him a grateful letter of acknowledgment
after he had arrived in Virginia.
“There are times,” said he, “when favors conferred make a
greater impression than at others, for, though I have received
many, I hope I have not been unmindful of them; yet, that at a
time your popularity was at the highest and mine at the lowest,
and when it is so common for men’s resentments to run high
against those who differ from them in opinion, you should act
with your wonted kindness towards me, has affected me more than
any favor I have received; and could not be believed by some in
New York, it being above the run of common minds.”[126]
Washington, in reply, expressed himself gratified by the sentiments
of his letter, and confident of their sincerity. “The
friendship,” added he, “which I ever professed and felt for you,
355met with no diminution from the difference in our political sentiments.
I know the rectitude of my own intentions, and believing
in the sincerity of yours, lamented, though I did not condemn,
your renunciation of the creed I had adopted. Nor do I
think any person or power ought to do it, whilst your conduct is
not opposed to the general interest of the people and the measures
they are pursuing; the latter, that is our actions, depending upon
ourselves, may be controlled; while the powers of thinking,
originating in higher causes, cannot always be moulded to our
wishes.”
The most important arrival in the camp was that of the
Baron Steuben, towards the latter part of February. He was a
seasoned soldier from the old battle fields of Europe; having
served in the seven years’ war, been aide-de-camp to the
great Frederick, and connected with the quartermaster-general’s
department. Honors had been heaped upon him in Germany.
After leaving the Prussian army he had been grand marshal of
the court of the Prince of Hohenzollern-Hechingen, colonel in
the circle of Suabia, lieutenant-general under the Prince Margrave
of Baden, and knight of the Order of Fidelity; and he had
declined liberal offers from the King of Sardinia and the Emperor
of Austria. With an income of about three thousand dollars,
chiefly arising from various appointments, he was living pleasantly
in distinguished society at the German courts, and making
occasional visits to Paris, when he was persuaded by the Count
de St. Germain, French Minister of War, and others of the
French cabinet, to come out to America, and engage in the cause
they were preparing to befriend. Their object was to secure for
the American armies the services of an officer of experience and a
thorough disciplinarian. Through their persuasions he resigned
356his several offices, and came out at forty-eight years of age, a
soldier of fortune, to the rude fighting grounds of America, to
aid a half-disciplined people in their struggle for liberty. No
certainty of remuneration was held out to him, but there was an
opportunity for acquiring military glory; the probability of adequate
reward should the young republic be successful; and it was
hinted that, at all events, the French court would not suffer him
to be a loser. As his means, on resigning his offices, were small,
Beaumarchais furnished funds for his immediate expenses.
The baron had brought strong letters from Dr. Franklin and
Mr. Deane, our envoys at Paris, and from the Count St. Germain.
Landing in Portsmouth in New Hampshire, Dec. 1st, he had forwarded
copies of his letters to Washington. “The object of my
greatest ambition,” writes he, “is to render your country all the
service in my power, and to deserve the title of a citizen of
America by fighting for the cause of your liberty. If the distinguished
ranks in which I have served in Europe should be an
obstacle, I had rather serve under your Excellency as a volunteer,
than to be an object of discontent among such deserving
officers as have already distinguished themselves among you.”
“I would say, moreover,” adds he, “were it not for the fear
of offending your modesty, that your Excellency is the only person
under whom, after having served under the King of Prussia,
I could wish to pursue an art to which I have wholly given
myself up.”
By Washington’s direction, the baron had proceeded direct to
Congress. His letters procured him a distinguished reception
from the president. A committee was appointed to confer with
him. He offered his services as a volunteer: making no condition
for rank or pay, but trusting, should he prove himself worthy
357and the cause be crowned with success, he would be indemnified
for the sacrifices he had made, and receive such further compensation
as he might be thought to merit.
The committee having made their report, the baron’s proffered
services were accepted with a vote of thanks for his disinterestedness,
and he was ordered to join the army at Valley Forge.
That army, in its ragged condition and squalid quarters, presented
a sorry aspect to a strict disciplinarian from Germany,
accustomed to the order and appointments of European camps;
and the baron often declared, that under such circumstances no
army in Europe could be kept together for a single month. The
liberal mind of Steuben, however, made every allowance; and
Washington soon found in him a consummate soldier, free from
pedantry or pretension.
The evils arising from a want of uniformity in discipline and
manœuvres throughout the army, had long caused Washington
to desire a well organized inspectorship. He knew that the same
desire was felt by Congress. Conway had been appointed to that
office, but had never entered upon its duties. The baron appeared
to be peculiarly well qualified for such a department;
Washington determined, therefore, to set on foot a temporary
institution of the kind. Accordingly he proposed to the baron to
undertake the office of inspector-general. The latter cheerfully
agreed. Two ranks of inspectors were appointed under him; the
lowest to inspect brigades, the highest to superintend several of
these. Among the inspectors was a French gentleman of the
name of Ternant, chosen not only for his intrinsic merit and
abilities, but on account of his being well versed in the English
as well as the French language, which made him a necessary
assistant to the baron, who, at times, needed an interpreter. The
358gallant Fleury, to whom Congress had given the rank and pay of
lieutenant-colonel, and who had exercised the office of aide-major
in France, was soon after employed likewise as an inspector.[127]
In a little while the whole army was under drill; for a great
part, made up of raw militia, scarcely knew the manual exercise.
Many of the officers, too, knew little of manœuvring, and the best
of them had much to learn. The baron furnished his sub-inspectors
with written instructions relative to their several functions.
He took a company of soldiers under his immediate training, and
after he had sufficiently schooled it, made it a model for the
others, exhibiting the manœuvres they had to practise.
It was a severe task at first for the aide-de-camp of the Great
Frederick to operate upon such raw materials. His ignorance of
the language, too, increased the difficulty, where manœuvres
were to be explained or rectified. He was in despair, until an
officer of a New York regiment, Captain Walker, who spoke
French, stepped forward and offered to act as interpreter. “Had
I seen an angel from Heaven,” says the baron, “I could not have
been more rejoiced.” He made Walker his aide-de-camp, and
from that time, had him always at hand.
For a time, there was nothing but drills throughout the camp,
then gradually came evolutions of every kind. The officers were
schooled as well as the men. The troops, says a person who was
present in the camp, were paraded in a single line with shouldered
arms; every officer in his place. The baron passed in
front, then took the musket of each soldier in hand, to see
whether it was clean and well polished, and examined whether
the men’s accoutrements were in good order.
359He was sadly worried for a time with the militia; especially
when any manœuvre was to be performed. The men blundered
in their exercise; the baron blundered in his English; his French
and German were of no avail; he lost his temper, which was
rather warm; swore in all three languages at once, which made
the matter worse, and at length called his aide to his assistance;
to help him curse the blockheads, as it was pretended—but no
doubt to explain the manœuvre.[128]
Still the grand marshal of the court of Hohenzollern mingled
with the veteran soldier of Frederick, and tempered his occasional
bursts of impatience; and he had a kind, generous heart, that
soon made him a favorite with the men. His discipline extended
to their comforts. He inquired into their treatment by the
officers. He examined the doctor’s reports; visited the sick; and
saw that they were well lodged and attended.
He was an example, too, of the regularity and system he
exacted. One of the most alert and indefatigable men in the
camp; up at daybreak if not before, whenever there were to be
any important manœuvres, he took his cup of coffee and smoked
his pipe while his servant dressed his hair, and by sunrise he was
in the saddle, equipped at all points, with the star of his order of
knighthood glittering on his breast, and was off to the parade,
alone, if his suite were not ready to attend him.
The strong good sense of the baron was evinced in the manner
in which he adapted his tactics to the nature of the army and the
situation of the country, instead of adhering with bigotry to the
360systems of Europe. His instructions were appreciated by all.
The officers received them gladly and conformed to them. The
men soon became active and adroit. The army gradually acquired
a proper organization, and began to operate like a great
machine; and Washington found in the baron an intelligent,
disinterested, truthful coadjutor, well worthy of the badge he
wore as a knight of the Order of Fidelity.
Another great satisfaction to Washington, was the appointment
by Congress (March 3d) of Greene to the office of quartermaster-general;
still retaining his rank of major-general in the
army. The confusion and derangement of this department during
the late campaign, while filled by General Mifflin, had been a
source of perpetual embarrassment. That officer, however capable
of doing his duty, was hardly ever at hand. The line and
the staff were consequently at variance; and the country was
plundered in a way sufficient to breed a civil war between the
staff and the inhabitants. Washington was often obliged to do
the duties of the office himself, until he declared to the Committee
of Congress that “he would stand quartermaster no longer.”[129]
Greene undertook the office with reluctance, and agreed to perform
the military duties of it without compensation for the space
of a year. He found it in great disorder and confusion, but, by
extraordinary exertions and excellent system, so arranged it, as
to put the army in a condition to take the field and move with
rapidity the moment it should be required.[130] The favor in which
Greene stood with the commander-in-chief, was a continual cause
of mean jealousy and cavil among the intriguing and the envious,
361but it arose from the abundant proofs Washington had received
in times of trial and difficulty, that he had a brave, affectionate
heart, a sound head, and an efficient arm, on all of which he could
thoroughly rely.
CHAPTER XXXII.
362
FORTIFICATIONS OF THE HUDSON—PROJECT TO SURPRISE SIR HENRY CLINTON—GENERAL
HOWE FORAGES THE JERSEYS—SHIPS AND STORES BURNT AT
BORDENTOWN—PLANS FOR THE NEXT CAMPAIGN—GATES AND MIFFLIN
UNDER WASHINGTON’S COMMAND—DOWNFALL OF CONWAY—LORD NORTH’S
CONCILIATORY BILLS—SENT TO WASHINGTON BY GOVERNOR TRYON—RESOLVES
OF CONGRESS—LETTER OF WASHINGTON TO TRYON—REJOICING AT
VALLEY FORGE—THE MISCHIANZA.
The Highlands of the Hudson had been carefully reconnoitred
in the course of the winter by General Putnam, Governor Clinton,
his brother James, and several others, and subsequently
by a committee from the New York Legislature, to determine
upon the most eligible place to be fortified. West Point was
ultimately chosen: and Putnam was urged by Washington to
have the works finished as soon as possible. The general being
called to Connecticut by his private affairs, and being involved in
an inquiry to be made into the loss of Forts Montgomery and
Clinton, Major-general McDougall was ordered to the Highlands,
to take command of the different posts in that department, and to
press forward the construction of the works, in which he was to
be assisted by Kosciuszko as engineer.
Before General McDougall’s arrival, Brigadier-general Parsons
had command at West Point. A letter of Washington to the
363latter suggests an enterprise of a somewhat romantic character.
It was no less than to pounce upon Sir Henry Clinton, and carry
him off prisoner from his head-quarters in the city of New York.
The general was quartered in the Kennedy house near the Battery,
and but a short distance from the Hudson. His situation
was rather lonely; most of the houses in that quarter having
been consumed in the great fire. A retired way led from it
through a back yard or garden to the river bank; where Greenwich
street extends at present. The idea of Washington was, that
an enterprising party should embark in eight or ten whale-boats
at King’s Ferry, just below the Highlands, on the first of the ebb,
and early in the evening. In six or eight hours, with change of
hands, the boats might be rowed under the shadows of the western
shore, and approach New York with muffled oars. There
were no ships of war at that time on that side of the city; all
were in the East River. The officers and men to be employed in
the enterprise were to be dressed in red, and much in the style
of the British soldiery. Having captured Sir Henry, they might
return in their swift whale-boats with the flood tide, or a party
of horse might meet them at Fort Lee. “What guards may be
at or near his quarters, I cannot say with precision,” writes
Washington, “and therefore shall not add any thing on this score.
But I think it one of the most practicable, and surely it will be
among the most desirable and honorable things imaginable to
take him prisoner.”
The enterprise, we believe, was never attempted. Colonel
Hamilton is said to have paralyzed it. He agreed with Washington
that there could be little doubt of its success; “but, sir,”
said he, “have you examined the consequences of it?” “In
what respect?” asked the general. “Why,” replied Hamilton
364“we shall rather lose than gain by removing Sir Henry from the
command of the British army, because we perfectly understand
his character; and by taking him off we only make way for some
other, perhaps an abler officer, whose character and dispositions
we have to learn.” The shrewd suggestions of his aide-de-camp
had their effect on Washington, and the project to abduct Sir
Henry was abandoned.[131]
The spring opened without any material alteration in the
dispositions of the armies. Washington at one time expected an
attack upon his camp; but Sir William was deficient in the
necessary enterprise; he contented himself with sending out parties
which foraged the surrounding country for many miles, and
scoured part of the Jerseys, bringing in considerable supplies.
These forays were in some instances accompanied by wanton
excesses and needless bloodshed; the more unjustifiable, as they
met with feeble resistance, especially in the Jerseys, where it was
difficult to assemble militia in sufficient force to oppose them.
Another ravaging party ascended the Delaware in flat-bottomed
boats and galleys; set fire to public storehouses in Bordentown
containing provisions and munitions of war; burnt two
frigates, several privateers, and a number of vessels of various
classes, some of them laden with military stores. Had the armed
vessels been sunk according to the earnest advice of Washington,
the greater part of them might have been saved.
A circular letter was sent by Washington on the 20th to all
the general officers in camp, requesting their opinions in writing,
which of three plans to adopt for the next campaign: to attempt
the recovery of Philadelphia; to transfer the war to the north
365and make an attempt on New York; or to remain quiet in a secure
and fortified camp, disciplining and arranging the army until the
enemy should begin their operations; then to be governed by
circumstances.
Just after the issue of this circular, intelligence received from
Congress showed that the ascendency of the cabal was at an end.
By a resolution of that body on the 15th, Gates was directed to
resume the command of the Northern department, and to proceed
forthwith to Fishkill for that purpose. He was invested with
powers for completing the works on the Hudson, and authorized
to carry on operations against the enemy should any favorable
opportunity offer, for which purposes he might call for the
artificers and militia of New York and the Eastern States: but
he was not to undertake any expedition against New York without
previously consulting the commander-in-chief. Washington
was requested to assemble a council of major-generals to determine
upon a plan of operations, and Gates and Mifflin, by a
subsequent resolution, were ordered to attend that council. This
arrangement, putting Gates under Washington’s order, evinced
the determination of Congress to sustain the latter in his proper
authority.
Washington in a reply to the President of Congress, who had
informed him of this arrangement, mentioned the circular he had
just issued. “There is not a moment to be delayed,” observed
he, “in forming some general system, and I only wait the arrival
of Generals Gates and Mifflin to summon a council for the purpose.”
The next day (24th) he addressed a letter to Gates,
requesting him, should he not find it inconvenient, to favor him
with a call at the camp, to discuss the plan of operations for the
366campaign. A similar invitation was sent by him to Mifflin; who
eventually resumed his station in the line.
And here we may note the downfall of the intriguing individual
who had given his name to the now extinguished cabal.
Conway, after the departure of Lafayette and De Kalb from
Albany, had remained but a short time in the command there,
being ordered to join the army under General McDougall, stationed
at Fishkill. Thence he was soon ordered back to Albany,
whereupon he wrote an impertinent letter to the President of
Congress, complaining that he was “boxed about in a most
indecent manner.”
“What is the meaning,” demanded he, “of removing me from
the scene of action on the opening of the campaign? I did not
deserve this burlesque disgrace, and my honor will not permit me
to bear it.” In a word, he intimated a wish that the president
would make his resignation acceptable to Congress.
To his surprise and consternation, his resignation was immediately
accepted. He instantly wrote to the president, declaring
that his meaning had been misapprehended; and accounting for it
by some orthographical or grammatical faults in his letter, being
an Irishman, who had learnt his English in France. “I had no
thoughts of resigning,” adds he, “while there was a prospect of
firing a single shot, and especially at the beginning of a campaign
which in my opinion will be a very hot one.”
All his efforts to get reinstated were unavailing, though he
went to Yorktown to make them in person. “Conway’s appointment
to the inspectorship of the army, with the rank of major-general,
after he had insulted the commander-in-chief,” observes
Wilkinson, “was a splenetic measure of a majority of Congress,
as factious as it was ill-judged.”
367They had become heartily ashamed of it; especially as it had
proved universally unpopular. The office of inspector-general
with the rank of major-general, with the proper pay and appointments,
were, at Washington’s recommendation, voted by them on
the 6th of May to Baron Steuben, who had already performed
the duties in so satisfactory a manner.
NOTE.
As General Conway takes no further part in the events of this history, we
shall briefly dispose of him. Disappointed in his aims, he became irritable in
his temper, and offensive in his manners, and frequently indulged in acrimonious
language respecting the commander-in-chief, that was highly resented by
the army. In consequence of some dispute he became involved in a duel with
General John Cadwalader, in which he was severely wounded. Thinking his
end approaching, he addressed the following penitential letter to Washington.
Philadelphia, 23 July, 1778.
Sir:—I find myself just able to hold the pen during a few minutes, and
take this opportunity of expressing my sincere grief for having done, written,
or said any thing disagreeable to your Excellency. My career will soon be
over, therefore justice and truth prompt me to declare my last sentiments.
You are in my eyes the great and good man. May you long enjoy the love,
veneration, and esteem of these States, whose liberties you have asserted by
your virtues.
I am, with the greatest respect, &c.,
Thomas Conway.
Contrary to all expectation, he recovered from his wound; but, finding
himself without rank in the army, covered with public opprobrium, and his
very name become a byword, he abandoned a country in which he had dishonored
himself, and embarked for France in the course of the year.
The capture of Burgoyne and his army was now operating
with powerful effect on the cabinets of both England and France.
With the former it was coupled with the apprehension that
France was about to espouse the American cause. The consequence
was Lord North’s “Conciliatory Bills,” as they were
368called, submitted by him to Parliament, and passed with but
slight opposition. One of these bills regulated taxation in the
American colonies, in a manner which, it was trusted, would
obviate every objection. The other authorized the appointment
of commissioners clothed with powers to negotiate with the existing
governments; to proclaim a cessation of hostilities; to grant
pardons, and to adopt other measures of a conciliatory nature.
“If what was now proposed was a right measure,” observes a
British historian, “it ought to have been adopted at first and
before the sword was drawn; on the other hand, if the claims of
the mother country over her colonies were originally worth contending
for, the strength and resources of the nation were not yet
so far exhausted as to justify ministers in relinquishing them
without a further struggle.”[132]
Intelligence that a treaty between France and the United
States had actually been concluded at Paris, induced the British
minister to hurry off a draft of the bills to America, to forestall
the effects of the treaty upon the public mind. General Tryon
caused copies of it to be printed in New York and circulated
through the country. He sent several of them to General Washington,
15th April, with a request that they should be communicated
to the officers and privates of his army. Washington felt
the singular impertinence of the request. He transmitted them
to Congress, observing that the time to entertain such overtures
was past. “Nothing short of independence, it appears to me, can
possibly do. A peace on other terms would, if I may be allowed
the expression, be a peace of war. The injuries we have received
from the British nation were so unprovoked, and have been so
369great and so many, that they can never be forgotten.” These
and other objections advanced by him met with the concurrence
of Congress, and it was unanimously resolved that no conference
could be held, no treaty made with any commissioners on the
part of Great Britain, until that power should have withdrawn its
fleets and armies, or acknowledged in positive and express terms
the independence of the United States.
On the following day, April 23d, a resolution was passed
recommending to the different States to pardon, under such restrictions
as might be deemed expedient, such of their citizens as,
having levied war against the United States, should return to
their allegiance before the 16th of June. Copies of this resolution
were struck off in English and German, and enclosed by
Washington in a letter to General Tryon, in which he indulged in
a vein of grave irony.
“Sir,—Your letter of the 17th and a triplicate of the same
were duly received. I had the pleasure of seeing the drafts of
the two bills, before those which were sent by you came to hand;
and I can assure you they were suffered to have a free currency
among the officers and men under my command, in whose fidelity
to the United States I have the most perfect confidence. The
enclosed Gazette, published the 24th at Yorktown, will show you
that it is the wish of Congress that they should have an unrestrained
circulation.[133]
“I take the liberty to transmit to you a few printed copies
of a resolution of Congress of the 23d instant, and to request that
370you will be instrumental in communicating its contents, so far as
it may be in your power, to the persons who are the objects of its
operations. The benevolent purpose it is intended to answer will,
I persuade myself, sufficiently recommend it to your candor. I
am, Sir,” &c.
The tidings of the capitulation of Burgoyne had been equally
efficacious in quickening the action of the French cabinet. The
negotiations, which had gone on so slowly as almost to reduce our
commissioners to despair, were brought to a happy termination,
and on the 2d of May, ten days after the passing by Congress of
the resolves just cited, a messenger arrived express from France
with two treaties, one of amity and commerce, the other of
defensive alliance, signed in Paris on the 6th of February by M.
Girard on the part of France, and by Benjamin Franklin, Silas
Deane, and Arthur Lee on the part of the United States. This
last treaty stipulated that, should war ensue between France and
England, it should be made a common cause by the contracting
parties, in which neither should make truce or peace with Great
Britain without the consent of the other, nor either lay down their
arms until the independence of the United States was established.
These treaties were unanimously ratified by Congress, and
their promulgation was celebrated by public rejoicings throughout
the country. The 6th of May was set apart for a military
fête at the camp at Valley Forge. The army was assembled in
best array; there was solemn thanksgiving by the chaplains at the
head of each brigade; after which a grand parade, a national
discharge of thirteen guns, a general feu de joie, and shouts of
the whole army, “Long live the King of France—Long live the
friendly European Powers—Huzza for the American States.” A
371banquet succeeded, at which Washington dined in public with all
the officers of his army, attended by a band of music. Patriotic
toasts were given and heartily cheered. “I never was present,”
writes a spectator, “where there was such unfeigned and perfect
joy as was discovered in every countenance. Washington retired
at five o’clock, on which there was universal huzzaing and
clapping of hands—‘Long live General Washington.’ The non-commissioned
officers and privates followed the example of their
officers as he rode past their brigades. The shouts continued till
he had proceeded a quarter of a mile, and a thousand hats were
tossed in the air. Washington and his suite turned round several
times and cheered in reply.” Gates and Mifflin, if in the camp at
the time, must have seen enough to convince them that the commander-in-chief
was supreme in the affections of the army.
On the 8th, the council of war, ordered by Congress, was convened;
at which were present Major-generals Gates, Greene,
Stirling, Mifflin, Lafayette, De Kalb, Armstrong and Steuben
and Brigadier-generals Knox and Duportail. After the state of
the forces, British and American, their number and distribution,
had been laid before the council by the commander-in-chief, and
a full discussion had been held, it was unanimously determined to
remain on the defensive, and not attempt any offensive operation
until some opportunity should occur to strike a successful blow.
General Lee was not present at the council, but afterwards signed
the decision.
While the Conciliatory Bills failed thus signally of their anticipated
effect upon the Congress and people of the United States,
they were regarded with indignation by the royal forces in
America, as offering a humiliating contrast to the high and
arrogant tone hitherto indulged towards the “rebels.” They
372struck dismay too into the hearts of the American royalists and
refugees; who beheld in them sure prognostics of triumph to the
cause they had opposed, and of mortification and trouble, if not
of exile, to themselves.
The military career of Sir William Howe in the United States
was now drawing to a close. His conduct of the war had given
much dissatisfaction in England. His enemies observed that
every thing gained by the troops was lost by the general; that he
had suffered an enemy with less than four thousand men to reconquer
a province which he had recently reduced, and lay a kind
of siege to his army in their winter-quarters;[134] and that he had
brought a sad reverse upon the British arms, by failing to co-operate
vigorously and efficiently with Burgoyne.
Sir William, on his part, had considered himself slighted by
the ministry; his suggestions, he said, were disregarded, and the
reinforcements withheld which he considered indispensable for the
successful conduct of the war. He had therefore tendered his
resignation, which had been promptly accepted, and Sir Henry
Clinton ordered to relieve him. Clinton arrived in Philadelphia
on the 8th of May, and took command of the army on the 11th.
Sir William Howe was popular among the officers of his
army, from his open and engaging manners; and, perhaps, from
the loose rule which indulged them in their social excesses. A
number of them combined to close his inglorious residence in
Philadelphia by a still more inglorious pageant. It was called
the Mischianza (or Medley), a kind of regatta and tournament;
the former on the Delaware, the latter at a country-seat on its
banks.
373The regatta was in three divisions; each with its band of
music, to which the oarsmen kept time.
The river was crowded with boats, which were kept at a
distance from the squadrons of gayly decorated barges, and the
houses, balconies, and wharves along the shore, were filled with
spectators.
We forbear to give the fulsome descriptions of the land part
of the Mischianza furnished by various pens; and will content
ourselves with the following, from the pen of a British writer
who was present. It illustrates sufficiently the absurdity of the
scene.
“All the colors of the army were placed in a grand avenue
three hundred feet in length, lined with the king’s troops, between
two triumphal arches, for the two brothers, the Admiral Lord
Howe and the General Sir William Howe, to march along in
pompous procession, followed by a numerous train of attendants,
with seven silken Knights of the Blended Rose, and seven more
of the Burning Mountain, and fourteen damsels dressed in the
Turkish fashion, to an area of one hundred and fifty yards square,
lined also with the king’s troops; for the exhibition of a tilt and
tournament, or mock fight of old chivalry, in honor of those two
heroes. On the top of each triumphal arch was a figure of Fame
bespangled with stars, blowing from her trumpet, in letters of
light, Tes lauriers sont immortels (Thy laurels are immortal).”
On this occasion, according to the same writer, “men compared
the importance of Sir William’s services with the merit he assumed,
and the gravity with which he sustained the most excessive
praise and adulation.”
The unfortunate Major André, at that time a captain, was
very efficient in getting up this tawdry and somewhat effeminate
374pageant. He had promoted private theatricals during the winter,
and aided in painting scenery and devising decorations. He
wrote a glowing description of the Mischianza, in a letter to a
friend, pronouncing it as perhaps the most splendid entertainment
ever given by any army to their general. He figured in it
as one of the Knights of the Blended Rose. In a letter written
to a lady, in the following year, he alludes to his preparations
for it as having made him a complete milliner, and offers his
services to furnish her supplies in that department.
At the time of this silken and mock heroic display, the number
of British chivalry in Philadelphia was nineteen thousand
five hundred and thirty, cooped up in a manner by an American
force at Valley Forge, amounting, according to official returns
to eleven thousand eight hundred men. Could any triumphal
pageant be more ill-placed and ill-timed!
CHAPTER XXXIII.
375
LAFAYETTE DETACHED TO KEEP WATCH ON PHILADELPHIA—HIS POSITION
AT BARREN HILL—PLAN OF SIR HENRY TO ENTRAP HIM—WASHINGTON
ALARMED FOR HIS SAFETY—STRATAGEM OF THE MARQUIS—EXCHANGE OF
GENERAL LEE AND COLONEL ETHAN ALLEN—ALLEN AT VALLEY FORGE—WASHINGTON’S
OPINION OF HIM—PREPARATIONS IN PHILADELPHIA TO
EVACUATE—WASHINGTON’S MEASURES IN CONSEQUENCE—ARRIVAL OF COMMISSIONERS
FROM ENGLAND—THEIR DISAPPOINTMENT—THEIR PROCEEDINGS—THEIR
FAILURE—THEIR MANIFESTO.
Soon after Sir Henry Clinton had taken the command, there were
symptoms of an intention to evacuate Philadelphia. Whither
the enemy would thence direct their course was a matter of mere
conjecture. Lafayette was therefore detached by Washington,
with twenty-one hundred chosen men and five pieces of cannon,
to take a position nearer the city, where he might be at hand to
gain information, watch the movements of the enemy, check their
predatory excursions, and fall on their rear when in the act of
withdrawing.
The marquis crossed the Schuylkill on the 18th of May, and
proceeded to Barren Hill, about half way between Washington’s
camp and Philadelphia, and about eleven miles from both. Here
he planted his cannon facing the south, with rocky ridges bordering
the Schuylkill on his right; woods and stone houses on his
376left. Behind him the roads forked, one branch leading to Matson’s
Ford of the Schuylkill, the other by Swedes’ Ford to Valley
Forge. In advance of his left wing was McLane’s company and
about fifty Indians. Pickets and videttes were placed in the
woods to the south, through which the roads led to Philadelphia,
and a body of six hundred Pennsylvania militia were stationed
to keep watch on the roads leading to White Marsh.
In the mean time Sir Henry Clinton, having received intelligence
through his spies of this movement of Lafayette, concerted
a plan to entrap the young French nobleman. Five thousand
men were sent out at night, under General Grant, to make a circuitous
march by White Marsh, and get in the rear of the Americans;
another force under General Grey was to cross to the west
side of the Schuylkill, and take post below Barren Hill, while
Sir Henry in person was to lead a third division along the Philadelphia
road.
The plan came near being completely successful, through the
remissness of the Pennsylvania militia, who had left their post
of observation. Early in the morning, as Lafayette was conversing
with a young girl, who was to go to Philadelphia and collect
information, under pretext of visiting her relatives, word was
brought that red coats had been descried in the woods near
White Marsh. Lafayette was expecting a troop of American
dragoons in that quarter, who wore scarlet uniforms, and supposed
these to be them; to be certain, however, he sent out an
officer to reconnoitre. The latter soon came spurring back at
full speed. A column of the enemy had pushed forward on the
road from White Marsh, were within a mile of the camp, and
had possession of the road leading to Valley Forge. Another
column was advancing on the Philadelphia road. In fact, the
377young French general was on the point of being surrounded by
a greatly superior force.
Lafayette saw his danger, but maintained his presence of
mind. Throwing out small parties of troops to show themselves
at various points of the intervening wood, as if an attack on
Grant was meditated, he brought that general to a halt, to prepare
for action, while he with his main body pushed forward for
Matson’s Ford on the Schuylkill.
The alarm guns at sunrise had apprised Washington that the
detachment under Lafayette was in danger. The troops at
Valley Forge were instantly under arms. Washington, with his
aides-de-camp and some of his general officers, galloped to the
summit of a hill, and anxiously reconnoitred the scene of action
with a glass. His solicitude for the marquis was soon relieved.
The stratagem of the youthful warrior had been crowned with
success. He completely gained the march upon General Grant,
reached Matson’s Ford in safety, crossed it in great order, and
took a strong position on high grounds which commanded it.
The enemy arrived at the river just in time for a skirmish as the
artillery was crossing. Seeing that Lafayette had extricated
himself from their hands, and was so strongly posted, they gave
over all attack, and returned somewhat disconcerted to Philadelphia;
while the youthful marquis rejoined the army at Valley
Forge, where he was received with acclamations.
The exchange of General Lee for General Prescott, so long
delayed by various impediments, had recently been effected; and
Lee was reinstated in his position of second in command. Colonel
Ethan Allen, also, had been released from his long captivity
in exchange for Colonel Campbell. Allen paid a visit to the
camp at Valley Forge, where he had much to tell of his various
378vicissitudes and hardships. Washington, in a letter to the President
of Congress suggesting that something should be done for
Allen, observes: “His fortitude and firmness seem to have
placed him out of the reach of misfortune. There is an original
something about him that commands admiration, and his long
captivity and sufferings have only served to increase, if possible,
his enthusiastic zeal. He appears very desirous of rendering his
services to the States, and of being employed; and at the same
time, he does not discover any ambition for high rank.”
In a few days, a brevet commission of colonel arrived for
Allen; but he had already left camp for his home in Vermont,
where he appears to have hung up his sword; for we meet with
no further achievements by him on record.
Indications continued to increase of the departure of troops
from Philadelphia. The military quarters were in a stir and
bustle; effects were packed up; many sold at auction; baggage
and heavy cannon embarked; transports fitted up for the reception
of horses, and hay taken on board. Was the whole army to
leave the city, or only a part? The former was probable. A
war between France and England appeared to be impending: in
that event, Philadelphia would be an ineligible position for the
British army.
New York, it was concluded, would be the place of destination;
either as a rendezvous, or a post whence to attempt the
occupation of the Hudson. Would they proceed thither by land
or water? Supposing the former, Washington would gladly have
taken post in Jersey, to oppose or harass them, on their march
through that State. His camp, however, was encumbered by
upwards of three thousand sick; and covered a great amount of
military stores. He dared not weaken it by detaching a sufficient
379force; especially as it was said the enemy intended to attack him
before their departure.
For three weeks affairs remained in this state. Washington
held his army ready to march toward the Hudson at a moment’s
warning; and sent General Maxwell with a brigade of Jersey
troops, to co-operate with Major-general Dickinson and the militia
of that State, in breaking down the bridges and harassing the
enemy, should they actually attempt to march through it. At
the same time he wrote to General Gates, who was now at his
post on the Hudson, urging him to call in as large a force of
militia as he could find subsistence for, and to be on the alert for
the protection of that river.
In the mean time, the commissioners empowered under the
new Conciliatory Bills to negotiate the restoration of peace between
Great Britain and her former colonies, arrived in the Delaware
in the Trident ship-of-war. These were Frederick Howard,
Earl of Carlisle; William Eden (afterwards Lord Ackland),
brother of the last colonial governor of Maryland; and George
Johnstone, sometimes called commodore, from having served in
the navy, but more commonly known as Governor Johnstone,
having held that office in Florida. He was now a member of
Parliament, and in the opposition. Their secretary was the celebrated
Dr. Adam Ferguson, an Edinburgh professor; author
of a Roman History, and who in his younger days (he was now
about fifty-five years of age) had been a “fighting chaplain at
Fontenoy.”
The choice of commissioners gave rise to much criticism and
cavil; especially that of Lord Carlisle, a young man of fashion,
amiable and intelligent, it is true, but unfitted by his soft European
habits for such a mission. “To captivate the rude members
380of Congress,” said Wilkes, “and civilize the wild inhabitants of
an unpolished country, a noble peer was very properly appointed
chief of the honorable embassy. His lordship, to the surprise
and admiration of that part of the New World, carried with
him a green ribbon, the gentle manners, winning behavior, and
soft insinuating address of a modern man of quality and a professed
courtier. The muses and graces with a group of little
laughing loves were in his train, and for the first time crossed
the Atlantic.”[135]
Mr. Eden, by his letter still in existence,[136] appears to have been
unkindly disposed towards America. Johnstone was evidently
the strongest member of the commission. Fox pronounced him
“the only one who could have the ear of the people in America,”
he alone had been their friend in Great Britain, and was
acquainted with the people of Pennsylvania.
The commissioners landed at Philadelphia on the 6th of
June, and discovered, to their astonishment, that they had come
out, as it were, in the dark, on a mission in which but a half
confidence had been reposed in them by government. Three
weeks before their departure from England, orders had been sent
out to Sir Henry Clinton to evacuate Philadelphia and concentrate
his forces at New York; yet these orders were never
imparted to them. Their letters and speeches testify their surprise
and indignation at finding their plan of operations so completely
disconcerted by their own cabinet. “We found every
thing here,” writes Lord Carlisle, “in great confusion; the army
upon the point of leaving the town, and about three thousand of
the miserable inhabitants embarked on board of our ships, to
381convey them from a place where they think they would receive no
mercy from those who will take possession after us.”
So Governor Johnstone, in speeches subsequently made in Parliament:
“On my arrival, the orders for the evacuation had
been made public—the city was in the utmost consternation: a
more affecting spectacle of woe I never beheld.” And again:
“The commissioners were received at Philadelphia with all the
joy which a generous people could express. Why were you so
long a-coming? was the general cry. Do not abandon us. Retain
the army and send them against Washington, and the affair
is over. Ten thousand men will arm for you in this province,
and ten thousand in the lower counties, the moment you take the
field and can get arms. The declarations were general and notorious,
and I am persuaded, if we had been at liberty to have
acted in the field, our most sanguine expectations would have
been fulfilled.”
The orders for evacuation, however, were too peremptory to
be evaded, but Johnstone declared that if he had known of them,
he never would have gone on the mission. The commissioners
had prepared a letter for Congress, merely informing that body
of their arrival and powers, and their disposition to promote a
reconciliation, intending quietly to await an answer; but the
unexpected situation of affairs occasioned by the order for evacuation,
obliged them to alter their resolution, and to write one of
a different character, bringing forward at once all the powers
delegated to them.
On the 9th June, Sir Henry Clinton informed Washington
of the arrival of the commissioners, and requested a passport for
their secretary, Dr. Ferguson, the historian, to proceed to Yorktown
bearing a letter to Congress. Washington sent to Congress
382a copy of Sir Henry’s letter, but did not consider himself
at liberty to grant the passport until authorized by them.
Without waiting the result, the commissioners forwarded, by
the ordinary military post, their letter, accompanied by the “Conciliatory
Acts” and other documents. They were received by
Congress on the 13th. The letter of the commissioners was
addressed “to His Excellency, Henry Laurens, the President and
others, the members of Congress.” The reading of the letter
was interrupted; and it came near being indignantly rejected, on
account of expressions disrespectful to France; charging it with
being the insidious enemy of both England and her colonies, and
interposing its pretended friendship to the latter “only to prevent
reconciliation and prolong this destructive war.” Several days
elapsed before the Congress recovered sufficient equanimity to
proceed with the despatches of the commissioners, and deliberate
on the propositions they contained.
In their reply, signed by the president (June 17th), they
observed, that nothing but an earnest desire to spare further effusion
of blood, could have induced them to read a paper containing
expressions so disrespectful to his most Christian Majesty, or
to consider propositions so derogatory to the honor of an independent
nation; and in conclusion, they expressed a readiness to
treat as soon as the King of Great Britain should demonstrate a
sincere disposition for peace, either by an explicit acknowledgment
of the independence of the States, or by the withdrawal
of his fleets and armies.
We will not follow the commissioners through their various
attempts, overtly and covertly, to forward the object of their
mission. We cannot, however, pass unnoticed an intimation conveyed
from Governor Johnstone to General Joseph Reed, at this
383time an influential member of Congress, that effectual services on
his part to restore the union of the two countries might be rewarded
by ten thousand pounds sterling, and any office in the
colonies in His Majesty’s gift. To this, Reed made his brief and
memorable reply: “I am not worth purchasing; but such as I
am, the King of Great Britain is not rich enough to do it.”
A letter was also written by Johnstone to Robert Morris,
the celebrated financier, then also a member of Congress, containing
the following significant paragraph: “I believe the men
who have conducted the affairs of America incapable of being
influenced by improper motives; but in all such transactions
there is risk; and I think that whoever ventures, should be assured,
at the same time, that honor and emolument should naturally
follow the fortune of those who have steered the vessel
in the storm and brought her safely into port. I think Washington
and the President have a right to every favor that grateful
nations can bestow, if they could once more unite our interest,
and spare the miseries and devastation of war.”
These transactions and letters being communicated to Congress,
were pronounced by them daring and atrocious attempts
to corrupt their integrity, and they resolved that it was incompatible
with their honor to hold any correspondence or intercourse
with the commissioner who made it; especially to negotiate
with him upon affairs in which the cause of liberty was concerned.
The commissioners, disappointed in their hopes of influencing
Congress, attempted to operate on the feelings of the public,
at one time by conciliatory appeals, at another by threats and
denunciations. Their last measure was to publish a manifesto
recapitulating their official proceedings; stating the refusal of
384Congress to treat with them, and offering to treat within forty
days with deputies from all or any of the colonies or provincial
Assemblies; holding forth, at the same time, the usual offers of
conditional amnesty. This measure, like all which had preceded
it, proved ineffectual; the commissioners embarked for England,
and so terminated this tardy and blundering attempt of
the British Government and its agents to effect a reconciliation—the
last attempt that was made.
Lord Carlisle, who had taken the least prominent part in
these transactions, thus writes in the course of them to his friend,
the witty George Selwyn, and his letter may serve as a peroration.
“I enclose you our manifesto, which you will never read.
’Tis a sort of dying speech of the commission; an effort from
which I expect little success. * * * * Every thing is upon
a great scale upon this continent. The rivers are immense; the
climate violent in heat and cold; the prospects magnificent; the
thunder and lightning tremendous. The disorders incident to
the country make every constitution tremble. We have nothing
on a great scale with us but our blunders, our misconduct, our
ruin, our losses, our disgraces and misfortunes, that will mark
the reign of a prince, who deserves better treatment and kinder
fortunes.”
CHAPTER XXXIV.
385
PREPARATIONS TO EVACUATE PHILADELPHIA—WASHINGTON CALLS A COUNCIL
OF WAR—LEE OPPOSED TO ANY ATTACK—PHILADELPHIA EVACUATED—MOVEMENTS
IN PURSUIT OF SIR HENRY CLINTON—ANOTHER COUNCIL OF
WAR—CONFLICT OF OPINIONS—CONTRADICTORY CONDUCT OF LEE RESPECTING
THE COMMAND—THE BATTLE OF MONMOUTH COURT HOUSE—SUBSEQUENT
MARCH OF THE ARMIES.
The delay of the British to evacuate Philadelphia tasked the
sagacity of Washington, but he supposed it to have been caused
by the arrival of the commissioners from Great Britain. The
force in the city in the mean time had been much reduced.
Five thousand men had been detached to aid in a sudden descent
on the French possessions in the West Indies; three thousand
more to Florida. Most of the cavalry with other troops had been
shipped with the provision train and heavy baggage to New
York. The effective force remaining with Sir Henry was now
about nine or ten thousand men; that under Washington was a
little more than twelve thousand Continentals, and about thirteen
hundred militia. It had already acquired considerable
proficiency in tactics and field manœuvring under the diligent
instructions of Steuben.
Early in June, it was evident that a total evacuation of the
city was on the point of taking place; and circumstances convinced
386Washington that the march of the main body would be
through the Jerseys. Some of his officers thought differently,
especially General Lee, who had now the command of a division
composed of Poor, Varnum, and Huntington’s brigades. Lee,
since his return to the army, had resumed somewhat of his old
habit of cynical supervision, and had his circle of admirers,
among whom he indulged in caustic comments on military
affairs and the merits of commanders.
On the present occasion he addressed a letter to Washington,
dated June 15th, suggesting other plans which the enemy might
have in view. “Whether they do or do not adopt any of these
plans,” added he, “there can be no inconvenience arise from considering
the subject, nor from devising means of defeating their
purposes, on the supposition that they will.”
Washington, in his reply, gave the suggestions of Lee a candid
and respectful consideration, but in the course of his letter
took occasion to hint a little gentle admonition.
“I shall always be happy,” writes he, “in a free communication
of your sentiments upon any important subject relative to
the service, and only beg that they may come directly to myself.
The custom which many officers have, of speaking freely, and
reprobating measures, which, upon investigation, may be found
to be unavoidable, is never productive of good, but often of very
mischievous consequences.”
In consequence probably of the suggestions of Lee, Washington
called a general council of war, on the 17th, to consider
what measures to adopt; whether to undertake any enterprise
against the enemy in their present circumstances—whether the
army should remain in its actual position, until the final evacuation
had taken place, or move immediately toward the Delaware—whether,
387should the enemy march through the Jerseys,
it would be advisable to attack them while on the way, or to
push on directly to the Hudson, and secure that important
communication between the Eastern and Southern States? In
case an attack while on the march were determined on, should it
be a partial or a general one?
Lee spoke eloquently on the occasion. He was opposed to
an attack of any kind. He would make a bridge of gold for the
enemy. They were nearly equal in number to the Americans,
and far superior in discipline; in fact, never had troops been
better disciplined. An attack would endanger the safety of the
cause. It was now in a prosperous state, in consequence of the
foreign alliance just formed; all ought not to be put at risk at the
very moment of making such an alliance. He advised merely to
follow the enemy, observe their motions, and prevent them from
committing any excesses.
Lee’s opinions had still great weight with the army; most of the
officers, both foreign and American, concurred with him. Greene,
Lafayette, Wayne, and Cadwalader, thought differently. They
could not brook that the enemy should evacuate the city, and
make a long march through the country unmolested. An opportunity
might present itself, amid the bustle and confusion of
departure, or while embarrassed in defiles with a cumbrous baggage
train, of striking some signal blow, that would indemnify them
for all they had suffered in their long and dreary encampment at
Valley Forge.
Washington’s heart was with this latter counsel; but seeing
such want of unanimity among his generals, he requested their
opinions in writing. Before these were given in, word was
brought that the enemy had actually evacuated the city.
388Sir Henry had taken his measures with great secrecy and
despatch. The army commenced moving at three o’clock on the
morning of the 18th, retiring to a point of land below the town
formed by the confluence of the Delaware and Schuylkill, and
crossing the former river in boats. By ten o’clock in the morning
the rear-guard landed on the Jersey shore.
On the first intelligence of this movement, Washington detached
General Maxwell with his brigade, to co-operate with
General Dickinson and the New Jersey militia in harassing the
enemy on their march. He sent General Arnold, also, with a
force to take command of Philadelphia, that officer being not yet
sufficiently recovered from his wound for field service; then
breaking up his camp at Valley Forge, he pushed forward with
his main force in pursuit of the enemy.
As the route of the latter lay along the eastern bank of the
Delaware as high as Trenton, Washington was obliged to make
a considerable circuit, so as to cross the river higher up at Coryell’s
Ferry, near the place where, eighteen months previously,
he had crossed to attack the Hessians.
On the 20th, he writes to General Gates: “I am now with
the main body of the army within ten miles of Coryell’s Ferry.
General Lee is advanced with six brigades, and will cross
to-night or to-morrow morning. By the last intelligence the enemy
are near Mount Holly, and moving very slowly; but as there
are so many roads open to them, their route could not be ascertained.
I shall enter the Jerseys to-morrow, and give you the
earliest notice of their movements, and whatever may affect you.”
Heavy rains and sultry summer heat retarded his movements;
but the army crossed on the 24th. The British were
now at Moorestown and Mount Holly. Thence they might take
389the road on the left for Brunswick, and so on to Staten Island and
New York; or the road to the right through Monmouth, by the
Heights of Middletown to Sandy Hook. Uncertain which they
might adopt, Washington detached Colonel Morgan with six
hundred picked men to reinforce Maxwell, and hang on their
rear; while he himself pushed forward with the main body toward
Princeton, cautiously keeping along the mountainous country
to the left of the most northern road.
The march of Sir Henry was very slow. His army was
encumbered with baggage and provisions, and all the nameless
superfluities in which British officers are prone to indulge.
His train of wheel carriages and bat horses was twelve miles in
extent. He was retarded by heavy rain and intolerable heat;
bridges had to be built and causeways constructed over streams
and marshes, where they had been destroyed by the Americans.
From his dilatory movements, Washington suspected Sir Henry
of a design to draw him down into the level country, and then,
by a rapid movement on his right, to gain possession of the
strong ground above him, and bring him to a general action on
disadvantageous terms. He himself was inclined for a general
action whenever it could be made on suitable ground: he halted,
therefore, at Hopewell, about five miles from Princeton, and held
another council of war while his troops were reposing and
refreshing themselves. The result of it, writes his aide-de-camp,
Colonel Hamilton, “would have done honor to the most honorable
society of midwives, and to them only.”[137] The purport was
to keep at a distance from the enemy, and annoy them by detachments.
Lee, according to Hamilton, was the prime mover of this
390plan, in pursuance of which a detachment of fifteen hundred
men was sent off under Brigadier-general Scott, to join the other
troops near the enemy’s line. Lee was even opposed to sending
so large a number.
Generals Greene, Wayne, and Lafayette were in the minority
in the council, and subsequently gave separately the same opinion
in writing, that the rear of the enemy should be attacked by a
strong detachment, while the main army should be so disposed
as to give a general battle, should circumstances render it advisable.
As this opinion coincided with his own, Washington
determined to act upon it.
Sir Henry Clinton in the mean time had advanced to Allentown,
on his way to Brunswick, to embark on the Raritan.
Finding the passage of that river likely to be strongly disputed
by the forces under Washington, and others advancing from the
north under Gates, he changed his plan, and turned to the right
by a road leading through Freehold to Navesink and Sandy
Hook; to embark at the latter place.
Washington, no longer in doubt as to the route of the
enemy’s march, detached Wayne with one thousand men to join
the advanced corps, which, thus augmented, was upwards of four
thousand strong. The command of the advance properly belonged
to Lee as senior major-general; but it was eagerly
solicited by Lafayette, as an attack by it was intended, and Lee
was strenuously opposed to every thing of the kind. Washington
willingly gave his consent, provided General Lee were satisfied
with the arrangement. The latter ceded the command without
hesitation, observing to the marquis that he was well pleased to
be freed from all responsibility in executing plans which he was
sure would fail.
391Lafayette set out on the 25th to form a junction as soon as
possible with the force under General Scott; while Washington,
leaving his baggage at Kingston, moved with the main body to
Cranberry, three miles in the rear of the advanced corps, to be
ready to support it.
Scarce, however, had Lee relinquished the command, when he
changed his mind. In a note to Washington, he declared that,
in assenting to the arrangement, he had considered the command
of the detachment one more fitting a young volunteering general
than a veteran like himself, second in command in the army.
He now viewed it in a different light. Lafayette would be at
the head of all the Continental parties already in the line; six
thousand men at least; a command next to that of the commander-in-chief.
Should the detachment march, therefore, he
entreated to have the command of it. So far he spoke personally,
“but,” added he, “to speak as an officer, I do not think
that this detachment ought to march at all, until at least the
head of the enemy’s right column has passed Cranberry; then if
it is necessary to march the whole army, I cannot see any impropriety
in the marquis’s commanding this detachment, or a greater,
as an advanced guard of the army; but if this detachment, with
Maxwell’s corps, Scott’s, Morgan’s and Jackson’s, is to be considered
as a separate, chosen, active corps, and put under the marquis’s
command until the enemy leave the Jerseys, both myself
and Lord Stirling will be disgraced.”
Washington was perplexed how to satisfy Lee’s punctilious
claims without wounding the feelings of Lafayette. A change
in the disposition of the enemy’s line of march furnished an
expedient. Sir Henry Clinton, finding himself harassed by light
troops on the flanks, and in danger of an attack in the rear,
392placed all his baggage in front under the convoy of Knyphausen,
while he threw the main strength of his army in the rear under
Lord Cornwallis.
This made it necessary for Washington to strengthen his
advanced corps; and he took this occasion to detach Lee, with
Scott’s and Varnum’s brigades, to support the force under Lafayette.
As Lee was the senior major-general, this gave him the
command of the whole advance. Washington explained the
matter in a letter to the marquis, who resigned the command to
Lee when the latter joined him on the 27th. That evening the
enemy encamped on high ground near Monmouth Court House.
Lee encamped with the advance at Englishtown, about five miles
distant. The main body was three miles in his rear.
About sunset, Washington rode forward to the advance, and
anxiously reconnoitred Sir Henry’s position. It was protected
by woods and morasses, and too strong to be attacked with a
prospect of success. Should the enemy, however, proceed ten or
twelve miles further unmolested, they would gain the heights of
Middletown, and be on ground still more difficult. To prevent
this, he resolved that an attack should be made on their rear
early in the morning, as soon as their front should be in motion.
This plan he communicated to General Lee, in presence of his
officers, ordering him to make dispositions for the attack, keeping
his troops lying on their arms, ready for action on the shortest
notice; a disposition he intended to observe with his own troops.
This done, he rode back to the main body.
Apprehensive that Sir Henry might decamp in the night,
Washington sent orders to Lee before midnight, to detach six or
seven hundred men to lie near the enemy, watch and give notice
of their movements, and hold them in check when on the march
393until the rest of the troops could come up. General Dickinson
was charged by Lee with this duty. Morgan was likewise
stationed with his corps to be ready for skirmishing.
Early in the morning, Washington received an express from
Dickinson, informing him that the enemy were in motion. He
instantly sent orders to Lee to push forward and attack them,
unless there should be powerful reasons to the contrary, adding,
that he was coming on to support him. For that purpose he
immediately set forward with his own troops, ordering them to
throw by their knapsacks and blankets.
Knyphausen, with the British vanguard, had begun about
daybreak to descend into the valley between Monmouth Court
House and Middletown. To give the long train of waggons and
pack horses time to get well on the way, Sir Henry Clinton with
his choice troops remained in camp on the heights of Freehold,
until eight o’clock, when he likewise resumed the line of march
toward Middletown.
In the mean time Lee, on hearing of the early movement
of the enemy, had advanced with the brigades of Wayne and
Maxwell, to support the light troops engaged in skirmishing.
The difficulty of reconnoitring a country cut up by woods and
morasses, and the perplexity occasioned by contradictory reports,
embarrassed his movements. Being joined by Lafayette with
the main body of the advance, he had now about four thousand
men at his command, independent of those under Morgan and
General Dickinson.
Arriving on the heights of Freehold, and riding forward with
General Wayne to an open place to reconnoitre, Lee caught sight
of a force under march, but partly hidden from view by intervening
woods. Supposing it to be a mere covering party of about
394two thousand men, he detached Wayne with seven hundred men
and two pieces of artillery, to skirmish in its rear and hold it in
check; while he, with the rest of his force, taking a shorter road
through the woods, would get in front of it, and cut it off from
the main body. He at the same time sent a message to Washington,
apprising him of this movement and of his certainty of
success.[138]
Washington in the mean time was on his march with the main
body, to support the advance, as he had promised. The booming
of cannon at a distance indicated that the attack so much desired
had commenced, and caused him to quicken his march. Arrived
near Freehold church, where the road forked, he detached Greene
with part of his forces to the right, to flank the enemy in the
rear of Monmouth Court House, while he, with the rest of the
column, would press forward by the other road.
Washington had alighted while giving these directions, and
was standing with his arm thrown over his horse, when a countryman
rode up and said the Continental troops were retreating.
Washington was provoked at what he considered a false alarm.
The man pointed, as his authority, to an American fifer who just
then came up in breathless affright. The fifer was ordered into
custody to prevent his spreading an alarm among the troops who
were advancing, and was threatened with a flogging should he
repeat the story.
Springing on his horse, Washington had moved forward but a
short distance when he met other fugitives, one in the garb of a
soldier, who all concurred in the report. He now sent forward
Colonels Fitzgerald and Harrison, to learn the truth, while he
395himself spurred past Freehold meeting-house. Between that
edifice and the morass beyond it, he met Grayson’s and Patton’s
regiments in most disorderly retreat, jaded with heat and fatigue.
Riding up to the officer at their head, Washington demanded
whether the whole advanced corps were retreating. The officer
believed they were.
It seemed incredible. There had been scarce any firing—Washington
had received no notice of the retreat from Lee. He
was still almost inclined to doubt, when the heads of several columns
of the advance began to appear. It was too evident—the
whole advance was falling back on the main body, and no notice
had been given to him. One of the first officers that came up
was Colonel Shreve, at the head of his regiment; Washington,
greatly surprised and alarmed, asked the meaning of this retreat.
The colonel smiled significantly—he did not know—he had
retreated by order. There had been no fighting excepting a
slight skirmish with the enemy’s cavalry, which had been repulsed.
A suspicion flashed across Washington’s mind, of wrong-headed
conduct on the part of Lee, to mar the plan of attack
adopted contrary to his counsels. Ordering Colonel Shreve to
march his men over the morass, halt them on the hill beyond and
refresh them, he galloped forward to stop the retreat of the rest
of the advance, his indignation kindling as he rode. At the rear
of the regiment he met Major Howard; he, too, could give no
reason for the retreat, but seemed provoked at it—declaring that
he had never seen the like. Another officer exclaimed with an
oath that they were flying from a shadow.
Arriving at a rising ground, Washington beheld Lee approaching
with the residue of his command in full retreat. By
this time he was thoroughly exasperated.
396“What is the meaning of all this, sir?” demanded he, in the
sternest and even fiercest tone, as Lee rode up to him.
Lee for a moment was disconcerted, and hesitated in making
a reply, for Washington’s aspect, according to Lafayette, was
terrible.
“I desire to know the meaning of this disorder and confusion,”
was again demanded still more vehemently.
Lee, stung by the manner more than the words of the demand,
made an angry reply, and provoked still sharper expressions,
which have been variously reported. He attempted a hurried
explanation. His troops had been thrown into confusion by contradictory
intelligence; by disobedience of orders; by the meddling
and blundering of individuals; and he had not felt disposed,
he said, to beard the whole British army with troops in such a
situation.
“I have certain information,” rejoined Washington, “that it
was merely a strong covering party.”
“That may be, but it was stronger than mine, and I did not
think proper to run such a risk.”
“I am very sorry,” replied Washington, “that you undertook
the command, unless you meant to fight the enemy.”
“I did not think it prudent to bring on a general engagement.”
“Whatever your opinion may have been,” replied Washington,
disdainfully, “I expected my orders would have been
obeyed.”
This all passed rapidly, and, as it were, in flashes, for there
was no time for parley. The enemy were within a quarter of an
hour’s march. Washington’s appearance had stopped the retreat.
The fortunes of the day were to be retrieved, if possible
397by instant arrangements. These he proceeded to make with
great celerity. The place was favorable for a stand; it was a
rising ground, to which the enemy could approach only over a
narrow causeway. The rallied troops were hastily formed upon
this eminence. Colonels Stewart and Ramsey, with two batteries,
were stationed in a covert of woods on their left, to protect
them and keep the enemy at bay. Colonel Oswald was posted
for the same purpose on a height, with two field-pieces. The
promptness with which every thing was done showed the effects
of the Baron Steuben’s discipline.
In the interim, Lee, being asked about the disposition of some
of the troops, replied that he could give no orders in the matter;
as he supposed General Washington intended he should have no
further command.
Shortly after this, Washington, having made all his arrangements
with great dispatch but admirable clearness and precision,
rode back to Lee in calmer mood, and inquired, “Will you retain
the command on this height or not? if you will, I will return to
the main body, and have it formed on the next height.”
“It is equal to me where I command,” replied Lee.
“I expect you will take proper means for checking the
enemy,” rejoined Washington.
“Your orders shall be obeyed; and I shall not be the first to
leave the ground,” was the reply.
A warm cannonade by Oswald, Stewart, and Ramsey, had the
desired effect. The enemy were brought to a stand, and Washington
had time to gallop back and bring on the main body.
This he formed on an eminence, with a wood in the rear and the
morass in front. The left wing was commanded by Lord Stirling,
398who had with him a detachment of artillery and several
field-pieces. General Greene was on his right.
Lee had maintained his advanced position with great spirit,
but was at length obliged to retire. He brought off his troops in
good order across a causeway which traversed the morass in front
of Lord Stirling. As he had promised, he was the last to leave
the ground. Having formed his men in a line, beyond the
morass, he rode up to Washington. “Here, sir, are my troops,”
said he; “how is it your pleasure I should dispose of them?”
Washington saw that the poor fellows were exhausted by marching,
counter-marching, hard fighting and the intolerable heat of
the weather: he ordered Lee, therefore, to repair with them to
the rear of Englishtown, and assemble there all the scattered
fugitives he might meet with.
The batteries under the direction of Lord Stirling opened a
brisk and well-sustained fire upon the enemy; who, finding themselves
warmly opposed in front, attempted to turn the left flank
of the Americans, but were driven back by detached parties of
infantry stationed there. They then attempted the right; but
here were met by General Greene, who had planted his artillery
under Knox, on a commanding ground, and not only checked
them but enfiladed those who were in front of the left wing.
Wayne too, with an advanced party posted in an orchard, and
partly sheltered by a barn, kept up a severe and well-directed fire
upon the enemy’s centre. Repeated attempts were made to dislodge
him, but in vain. Colonel Monckton of the royal grenadiers,
who had distinguished himself and been wounded in the
battle of Long Island, now undertook to drive Wayne from his
post at the point of the bayonet. Having made a brief harangue
to his men, he led them on in column. Wayne’s men reserved
399their fire, until Colonel Monckton, waving his sword, called out
to his grenadiers to charge. At that instant a sheeted volley
laid him low, and made great slaughter in his column, which was
again repulsed.
The enemy at length gave way, and fell back to the ground
which Lee had occupied in the morning. Here their flanks were
secured by woods and morasses, and their front could only be
approached across a narrow causeway.
Notwithstanding the difficulties of the position, Washington
prepared to attack it; ordering General Poor with his own and
the Carolina brigade, to move round upon their right, and General
Woodford on their left; while the artillery should gall them
in front. Before these orders could be carried into effect the day
was at an end. Many of the soldiers had sunk upon the ground,
overcome by fatigue and the heat of the weather; all needed
repose. The troops, therefore, which had been in the advance,
were ordered to lie on their arms on the ground they occupied, so
as to be ready to make the attack by daybreak. The main army
did the same, on the field of action, to be at hand to support
them. Washington lay on his cloak at the foot of a tree, with
Lafayette beside him, talking over the strange conduct of Lee;
whose disorderly retreat had come so near being fatal to the
army.
It was indeed a matter of general perplexity, to which the
wayward character of Lee greatly contributed. Some who recollected
his previous opposition to all plan of attack, almost suspected
him of wilfully aiming to procure a defeat. It would appear,
however, that he had been really surprised and thrown into
confusion by a move of Sir Henry Clinton, who, seeing the force
under Lee descending on his rear from Freehold heights, had
400suddenly turned upon it, aided by troops from Knyphausen’s
division, to oblige it to call to its assistance the flanking parties
under Morgan and Dickinson, which were threatening his baggage
train. So that Lee, instead of a mere covering party which
he had expected to cut off, had found himself front to front
with the whole rear division of the British army; and that too,
on unfavorable ground, with a deep ravine and a morass in his
rear.
He endeavored to form his troops for action. Oswald’s artillery
began to play, and there was some skirmishing with the
enemy’s light-horse, in which they were repulsed. But mistakes
occurred; orders were misunderstood; one corps after another
fell back, until the whole retreated, almost without a struggle,
before an inferior force. Lee, himself, seemed to partake of the
confusion; taking no pains to check the retrograde movement,
nor to send notice of it to the main body upon which they were
falling back.
What opinions Washington gave on the subject, in the
course of his conversation with the marquis, the latter does not
tell us; after it was ended, he wrapped himself in his cloak, and
slept at the foot of the tree, among his soldiers.
At daybreak the drums beat the reveillé. The troops roused
themselves from their heavy sleep, and prepared for action.
To their surprise, the enemy had disappeared: there was a deserted
camp, in which were found four officers and about forty privates,
too severely wounded to be conveyed away by the retreating
army. Sir Henry Clinton, it appeared, had allowed his wearied
troops but short repose on the preceding night. At ten o’clock,
when the American forces were buried in their first sleep, he had
set forward to join the division under Knyphausen, which, with the
401baggage train, having pushed on during the action, was far on
the road to Middletown. So silent had been his retreat, that it
was unheard by General Poor’s advance party, which lay near by.
The distance to which the enemy must by this time have
attained, the extreme heat of the weather, and the fatigued condition
of the troops, deterred Washington from continuing a pursuit
through a country, where the roads were deep and sandy,
and there was great scarcity of water. Besides, persons well
acquainted with the country assured him that it would be impossible
to annoy the enemy in their embarkation, as he must approach
the place by a narrow passage, capable of being defended
by a few men against his whole force. Detaching General Maxwell’s
brigade and Morgan’s rifle corps, therefore, to hang on the
rear of the enemy, prevent depredation and encourage desertions,
he determined to shape his course with his main body by
Brunswick toward the Hudson, lest Sir Henry should have any
design upon the posts there.
The American loss in the recent battle was eight officers
and sixty-one privates killed, and about one hundred and sixty
wounded. Among the slain were Lieutenant-colonel Bonner of
Pennsylvania, and Major Dickinson of Virginia, both greatly
regretted.
The officers who had charge of the burying parties reported
that they found two hundred and forty-five non-commissioned
officers and privates, and four officers, left dead by the enemy on
the field of battle. There were fresh graves in the vicinity
also, into which the enemy had hurried their slain before retreating.
The number of prisoners, including those found wounded,
was upwards of one hundred.
Some of the troops on both sides had perished in the morass,
402some were found on the border of a stream which ran through
it among alder bushes, whither, overcome by heat, fatigue and
thirst, they had crawled to drink and die.
Among the gallant slain of the enemy was Colonel Monckton,
who fell so bravely when leading on his grenadiers. His
remains were interred in the burial-ground of the Freehold meeting-house,
upon a stone of which edifice his name is rudely cut.[139]
After giving his troops a day’s repose Washington decamped
on the 30th. His march lay through a country destitute of
water, with deep, sandy roads wearying to the feet, and reflecting
the intolerable heat and glare of a July sun. Many of the
troops, harassed by previous fatigue, gave out by the way.
Some few died, and a number of horses were likewise lost.
Washington, ever considerate of the health and comfort of his
men, encamped near Brunswick on open, airy grounds, and gave
them time to repose; while Lieutenant-colonel Aaron Burr, at
that time a young and enterprising officer, was sent on a reconnoitring
expedition, to learn the movements and intentions of the
enemy. He was authorized to despatch trusty persons into New
York to make observations, collect reports, and get newspapers.
Others were to be sent to the heights of Bergen, Weehawk and
Hoboken, which command a view of the bay and river, to observe
the situation of the enemy’s forces, and note whether any
movement among the shipping gave signs of an expedition up the
Hudson; the immediate object of solicitude.
Sir Henry Clinton with the royal army had arrived at the
Highlands of Navesink, in the neighborhood of Sandy Hook, on
the 30th of June. He had lost many men by desertion, Hessians
403especially, during his march through the Jerseys, which, with
his losses by killed, wounded and captured, had diminished his
army more than two thousand men. The storms of the preceding
winter had cut off the peninsula of Sandy Hook from the
main land, and formed a deep channel between them. Fortunately
the squadron of Lord Howe had arrived the day before
and was at anchor within the Hook. A bridge was immediately
made across the channel with the boats of the ships, over which the
army passed to the Hook on the 5th of July, and thence was
distributed.
It was now encamped in three divisions on Staten Island,
Long Island, and the island of New York: apparently without
any immediate design of offensive operations. There was a
vigorous press in New York to man the large ships and fit them
for sea, but this was in consequence of a report that a French
fleet had arrived on the coast.
Relieved by this intelligence from all apprehensions of an
expedition by the enemy up the Hudson, Washington relaxed the
speed of his movements, and halted for a few days at Paramus,
sparing his troops as much as possible during the extreme summer
heats.
CHAPTER XXXV.
404
CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN LEE AND WASHINGTON RELATIVE TO THE AFFAIR
OF MONMOUTH—LEE ASKS A TRIAL BY COURT-MARTIAL—THE VERDICT—LEE’S
SUBSEQUENT HISTORY.
Having brought the army to a halt, we have time to notice a
correspondence between General Lee and Washington immediately
subsequent to the affair of Monmouth. The pride of the
general had been deeply wounded by the rebuke he had received
on the field of battle. On the following day (June 29th) he
addressed a note to Washington on the subject. By mistake it
was dated July 1st. “From the knowledge I have of your
Excellency’s character,” writes he, “I must conclude that nothing
but the misinformation of some very stupid, or misrepresentation
of some very wicked person, could have occasioned your making
use of so very singular expressions as you did on my coming up
to the ground where you had taken post. They implied that I
was guilty either of disobedience of orders, want of conduct, or
want of courage. Your Excellency will therefore infinitely
oblige me by letting me know on which of these three articles
you ground your charge. I ever had, and hope ever shall have,
the greatest respect and veneration for General Washington. I
think him endowed with many great and good qualities; but in
405this instance, I must pronounce that he has been guilty of an act
of cruel injustice towards a man, who certainly has some pretensions
to the regard of every servant of this country. And I
think, sir, I have a right to demand some reparation for the
injury committed; and, unless I can obtain it, I must in justice
to myself, when this campaign is closed, which I believe will
close the war, retire from the service at the head of which is
placed a man capable of offering such injuries. But at the same
time, in justice to you, I must repeat that I from my soul believe
that it is not a motion of your own breast, but instigated by
some of those dirty earwigs, who will for ever insinuate themselves
near persons high in office: for I really am convinced that
when General Washington acts from himself, no man in his
army will have reason to complain of injustice or indecorum.”
The following was Washington’s reply:
“Sir,—I received your letter (dated through mistake the 1st
of July), expressed as I conceive in terms highly improper. I
am not conscious of making use of any very singular expressions
at the time of meeting you, as you intimate. What I recollect
to have said was dictated by duty and warranted by the occasion.
As soon as circumstances will permit, you shall have an opportunity
of justifying yourself to the army, to Congress, to America,
and to the world in general; or of convincing them that you
were guilty of a breach of orders, and of misbehavior before the
enemy on the 28th instant, in not attacking them as you had
been directed, and in making an unnecessary, disorderly, and
shameful retreat. I am,” &c., &c.
To this Lee rejoined, in a note, misdated 28th June. “Sir,
406you cannot afford me greater pleasure than in giving me the
opportunity of showing to America the sufficiency of her respective
servants. I trust that temporary power of office, and the
tinsel dignity attending it, will not be able, by all the mists they
can raise, to offuscate the bright rays of truth. In the mean
time, your Excellency can have no objection to my retiring from
the army,” &c.
Shortly after despatching this note, Lee addressed another to
Washington. “I have reflected on both your situation and
mine,” writes he, “and beg leave to observe, that it will be for
our mutual convenience that a court of inquiry should be immediately
ordered: but I could wish that it might be a court-martial;
for, if the affair is drawn into length, it may be difficult to
collect the necessary evidences, and perhaps might bring on a
paper war betwixt the adherents to both parties, which may
occasion some disagreeable feuds on the continent; for all are
not my friends, nor all your admirers. I must entreat, therefore,
from your love of justice, that you will immediately exhibit
your charge, and that on the first halt I may be brought to a trial.”
Washington in reply acknowledged the receipt of the two last
notes, and added, “I have sent Colonel Scammel and the adjutant-general,
to put you under arrest, who will deliver you a copy
of the charges on which you will be tried.”
The following were the charges.
1st. Disobedience of orders, in not attacking the enemy on
the 28th June, agreeably to repeated instructions.
2d. Misbehavior before the enemy on the same day, by
making an unnecessary, disorderly, and shameful retreat.
3d. Disrespect to the commander-in-chief in two letters, dated
the 1st of July, and the 28th of June.
407A court-martial was accordingly formed on the 4th of July,
at Brunswick, the first halting place. It was composed of one
major-general, four brigadiers, and eight colonels, with Lord
Stirling as president. It moved with the army, and convened
subsequently at Paramus, Peekskill, and Northcastle, the trial
lasting until the 12th of August. From the time it commenced,
Washington never mentioned Lee’s name when he could avoid it,
and when he could not, he mentioned it without the smallest
degree of acrimony or disrespect.
Lee, on the contrary, indulged his natural irritabilty of temper
and sharpness of tongue. When put on his guard against any
intemperate railings against Washington, as calculated to injure
his cause, he spurned at the advice. “No attack, it seems, can
be made on General Washington but it must recoil on the assailant.
I never entertained the most distant wish or intention
of attacking General Washington. I have ever honored and
respected him as a man and a citizen; but if the circle which
surrounds him chooses to erect him into an infallible divinity, I
shall certainly prove a heretic; and if, great as he is, he can
attempt wounding every thing I ought to hold dear, he must
thank his priests if his deityship gets scratched in the scuffle.”[140]
In the repeated sessions of the court-martial and the long examinations
which took place, many of the unfavorable impressions
first received, concerning the conduct and motives of Lee, were
softened. Some of the officers in his detachment, who had made
accusations against him to the commander-in-chief previous to
the trial, especially Generals Wayne and Scott, were found not to
have understood all the circumstances of the case in which he
408was placed in his encounter with the rear division of Sir Henry
Clinton, and that that division had been largely reinforced by
troops from General Knyphausen.
Lee defended himself with ability. He contended that after
the troops had commenced to fall back, in consequence of a retrograde
movement of General Scott, he had intended to form them
on the first advantageous ground he could find, and that none
such presented itself until he reached the place where he met
General Washington; on which very place he had intended to
make battle.
He denied that in the whole course of the day he had uttered
the word retreat. But this retreat, said he, though necessary,
was brought about contrary to my orders, contrary to my intention;
and, if any thing can deduct from my credit, it is, that I
did not order a retreat which was so necessary.[141]
Judge Marshall observes of the variety of reasons given by
Lee in justification of his retreat, “if they do not absolutely
establish its propriety, they give it so questionable a form, as to
render it probable that a public examination never would have
taken place, could his proud spirit have stooped to offer explanation
instead of outrage to the commander-in-chief.”
The result of the prolonged and tedious investigation was,
that he was found guilty of all the charges exhibited against him;
the second charge, however, was softened by omitting the word
shameful, and convicting him of making an “unnecessary, and in
some instances a disorderly retreat.” He was sentenced to be
suspended from all command for one year: the sentence to be
approved or set aside by Congress.
409We must again anticipate dates, to dispose briefly of the
career of General Lee, who is not connected with subsequent
events of the Revolution. Congress were more than three
months in coming to a decision on the proceedings of the court-martial.
As the House always sat with closed doors, the debates
on the subject are unknown, but are said to have been warm.
Lee urged for speedy action, and regretted that the people at
large could not be admitted to form an audience, when the discussion
was entered into of the justice or iniquity, wisdom or
absurdity of the sentence that had been passed upon him. At
length, on the 5th of December, the sentence was approved in a
very thin session of Congress, fifteen members voting in the
affirmative and seven in the negative.
From that time Lee was unmeasured in his abuse of Washington,
and his reprobation of the court-martial, which he termed
a “court of inquisition.” He published a long article in the
newspapers relative to the trial and to the affair at Monmouth,
calculated to injure Washington. “I have neither the leisure
nor inclination,” observes the latter, “to enter the lists with him
in a newspaper; and so far as his production points to personality,
I can and do from my inmost soul despise it. * * * *
It became a part of General Lee’s plan, from the moment of
his arrest, though it was an event solicited by himself, to have
the world believe that he was a persecuted man, and party was
at the bottom of it. But however convenient it may have been
for his purposes to establish this belief, I defy him, or his most
zealous partisans, to adduce a single instance in proof of it, unless
bringing him to trial, at his own request, be considered in this
light. I can do more; I will defy any person, out of my own
family, to say, that I have ever mentioned his name, if it was to
410be avoided; and when not, that I have not studiously declined
expressing any sentiment of him or his behavior. How far this
conduct accords with his, let his own breast decide. * * *
* * As I never entertained any jealousy of him, so neither
did I ever do more than common civility and proper respect to
his rank required, to conciliate his good opinion. His temper
and plans were too versatile and violent to attract my admiration;
and, that I have escaped the venom of his tongue and pen
so long, is more to be wondered at than applauded; as it is a
favor of which no officer, under whose immediate command he
ever served, has had the happiness, if happiness can be thus denominated,
of boasting.”[142]
Lee’s aggressive tongue at length involved him in a quarrel
with Colonel Laurens, one of Washington’s aides, a high-spirited
young gentleman, who felt himself bound to vindicate the honor
of his chief. A duel took place, and Lee was wounded in the
side.
Towards spring he retired to his estate in Berkley County in
Virginia, “to learn to hoe tobacco, which,” observes he with a
sarcastic innuendo at Washington, “is the best school to form a
consummate General. This is a discovery I have lately made.”
He led a kind of hermit life on his estate: dogs and horses
were his favorite companions. His house is described as being
a mere shell, destitute of comforts and conveniences. For want
of partitions the different parts were designated by lines chalked
on the floor. In one corner was his bed; in another were his
books; his saddles and harness in a third; a fourth served as a
kitchen.
411“Sir,” said he to a visitor, “it is the most convenient and
economical establishment in the world. The lines of chalk
which you see on the floor, mark the divisions of the apartments,
and I can sit in any corner and overlook the whole without
moving from my chair.”
In this retirement he solaced his mortification and resentment
by exercising his caustic pen in “Queries Political and Military,”
intended to disparage the merits and conduct of Washington,
and which were published in a Maryland newspaper. His
attempts, it is needless to say, were fallacious, and only recoiled
on his own head.
The term of his suspension had expired, when a rumor reached
him that Congress intended to take away his commission. He
was in bodily pain at the time; his horses were at the door
for an excursion of business; the intelligence “ruffled his temper
beyond all bounds.” In his hurry and heat, without attempting
to ascertain the truth of the report, he scrawled the following
note to the President of Congress: “Sir, I understand that it is
in contemplation of Congress, on the principle of economy, to
strike me out of their service. Congress must know very little
of me, if they suppose that I would accept of their money, since
the confirmation of the wicked and infamous sentence which was
passed upon me. I am, sir,” &c.
This insolent note occasioned his prompt dismissal from the
service. He did not complain of it; but in a subsequent and
respectful letter to the president, explained the mistaken information
which had produced his note, and the state of body and
mind in which it was written. “But, sir,” added he, “I must
entreat, in the acknowledging of the impropriety and indecorum
of my conduct in this affair, it may not be supposed that I mean
412to court a restoration to the rank I held; so far from it, that I
do assure you, had not the incident fallen out, I should have
requested Congress to accept my resignation, as, for obvious
reasons, whilst the army is continued in its present circumstances,
I could not serve with safety and dignity,” &c.
Though bitter in his enmities, Lee had his friendships, and
was warm and constant in them as far as his capricious humors
would allow. There was nothing crafty or mean in his character,
nor do we think he ever engaged in the low intrigues of the
cabal; but he was a disappointed and embittered man, and the
gall of bitterness overflowed his generous qualities. In such a
discordant state of feeling, he was not a man for the sweet solitude
of the country. He became weary of his Virginia estate;
though in one of the most fertile regions of the Shenandoah
Valley. His farm was mismanaged; his agents were unfaithful,
he entered into negotiations to dispose of his property, in the
course of which he visited Philadelphia. On arriving there, he
was taken with chills, followed by a fever, which went on increasing
in violence, and terminated fatally. A soldier even unto the
end, warlike scenes mingled with the delirium of his malady. In
his dying moments he fancied himself on the field of battle. The
last words he was heard to utter were, “Stand by me, my brave
grenadiers!”
He left a will and testament strongly marked by his peculiarities.
There are bequests to intimates of horses, weapons, and
sums to purchase rings of affection; ample and generous provisions
for domestics, one of whom he styles his “old and faithful
servant, or rather, humble friend.” His landed estate in Berkley
was to be divided into three equal parts, two of them between
413two of his former aides-de-camp, and the other third between
two gentlemen to whom he felt under obligations. All his residuary
property to go to his sister Sidney Lee and her heirs.
Eccentric to the last, one clause of his will regards his sepulture:
“I desire most earnestly that I may not be buried in any
church or churchyard, or within a mile of any Presbyterian or Anabaptist
meeting-house; for, since I have resided in this country,
I have kept so much bad company while living, that I do not
choose to continue it when dead.”
This part of his will was not complied with. He was buried
with military honors in the cemetery of Christ church; and his
funeral was attended by the highest civic and military characters,
and a large concourse of citizens.
The magnanimity exhibited by Washington in regard to Lee
while living, continued after his death. He never spoke of him
with asperity, but did justice to his merits, acknowledging that
“he possessed many great qualities.”
In after years, there was a proposition to publish the manuscripts
of General Lee, and Washington was consulted in the
matter, as there might be hostile articles among them which he
might wish to have omitted. “I can have no request to make
concerning the work,” writes he in reply. “I never had a difference
with that gentleman but on public grounds; and my conduct
towards him on this occasion was such, only, as I felt myself
indispensably bound to adopt in discharge of the public trust
reposed in me. If this produced in him unfavorable sentiments of
me, I can never consider the conduct I pursued, with respect to
him, either wrong or improper, however I may regret that it may
have been differently viewed by him, and that it excited his anger
414and animadversions. Should there appear in General Lee’s
writings any thing injurious or unfriendly to me, the impartial
and dispassionate world must decide how far I deserved it from
the general tenor of my conduct.”
CHAPTER XXXVI.
415
ARRIVAL OF A FRENCH FLEET—CORRESPONDENCE OF WASHINGTON AND THE
COUNT D’ESTAING—PLANS OF THE COUNT—PERTURBATION AT NEW YORK—EXCITEMENT
IN THE FRENCH FLEET—EXPEDITION AGAINST RHODE ISLAND—OPERATIONS
BY SEA AND LAND—FAILURE OF THE EXPEDITION—IRRITATION
BETWEEN THE ALLIED FORCES—CONSIDERATE LETTER OF WASHINGTON
TO THE COUNT D’ESTAING.
While encamped at Paramus, Washington, in the night of the
13th of July, received a letter from Congress informing him of
the arrival of a French fleet on the coast; instructing him to
concert measures with the commander, the Count D’Estaing, for
offensive operations by sea and land, and empowering him to call
on the States from New Hampshire to New Jersey inclusive, to
aid with their militia.
The fleet in question was composed of twelve ships of the line
and six frigates, with a land force of four thousand men. On
board of it came Mons. Gerard, minister from France to the
United States, and the Hon. Silas Deane, one of the American
ministers who had effected the late treaty of alliance. The fleet
had sailed from Toulon on the 13th of April. After struggling
against adverse winds for eighty-seven or eighty-eight days, it had
made its appearance off the northern extremity of the Virginia
coast, and anchored at the mouth of the Delaware, on the eighth
416of July. Thence the count despatched a letter to Washington,
dated at sea. “I have the honor of imparting to your Excellency,”
writes he, “the arrival of the king’s fleet, charged by his
majesty with the glorious task of giving his allies, the United
States of America, the most striking proofs of his affection.
Nothing will be wanting to my happiness, if I can succeed in it.
It is augmented by the consideration of concerting my operations
with a General such as your Excellency. The talents and great
actions of General Washington have insured him, in the eyes of
all Europe, the title truly sublime of Deliverer of America,” &c.
The count was unfortunate in the length of his voyage. Had
he arrived in ordinary time, he might have entrapped Lord
Howe’s squadron in the river; co-operated with Washington in
investing the British army by sea and land, and, by cutting off
its retreat to New York, compelled it to surrender.
Finding the enemy had evacuated both city and river, the
count sent up the French minister and Mr. Deane to Philadelphia
in a frigate, and then, putting to sea, continued along the coast.
A little earlier, and he might have intercepted the squadron of
Lord Howe on its way to New York. It had had but a very
few days the advantage of him, and when he arrived with his
fleet in the road outside of Sandy Hook, he descried the British
ships quietly anchored inside of it.
A frank and cordial correspondence took place forthwith
between the count and Washington, and a plan of action was
concerted between them by the intervention of confidential officers;
Washington’s aides-de-camp, Laurens and Hamilton, boarding
the fleet while off the Hook, and Major Chouin, a French
officer of merit, repairing to the American head-quarters.
The first idea of the count was to enter at Sandy Hook, and
417capture or destroy the British fleet composed of six ships of the
line, four fifty gun ships, and a number of frigates and smaller
vessels; should he succeed in this, which his greatly superior
force rendered probable, he was to proceed against the city, with
the co-operation of the American forces. To be at hand for such
purpose, Washington crossed the Hudson, with his army, at
King’s Ferry, and encamped at White Plains about the 20th of
July.
In the mean time New York was once more in a violent perturbation.
“British seamen,” says a writer of the times, “endured
the mortification, for the first time, of seeing a British
fleet blocked up and insulted in their own harbor, and the French
flag flying triumphant without. And this was still more embittered
and aggravated, by beholding every day vessels under
English colors captured under their very eyes by the enemy.”[143]
The army responded to their feelings; many royalists of the
city, too, hastened to offer their services as volunteers; there was
in short, a prodigious stir in every department, military and
naval.
On the other hand, the French officers and crews were in the
highest state of excitement and exultation. The long low point of
Sandy Hook was all that intervened between them and a splendid
triumph, and they anticipated the glory of “delivering America
from the English colors which they saw waving on the other side
of a simple barrier of sand, upon so great a crowd of masts.”[144]
Several experienced American pilots and masters of vessels,
however, who had accompanied Colonels Laurens and Hamilton
on board of the fleet, declared that there was not sufficient depth
418of water on the bar to admit the safe passage of the largest ships
one of which carried 80 and another 90 guns: the attempt
therefore, was reluctantly abandoned; and the ships anchored
about four miles off, near Shrewsbury on the Jersey coast, taking
in provisions and water.
The enterprise which the American and French commanders
deemed next worthy of a combined operation, was the recapture
of Rhode Island proper, that it is to say, the island which gives
its name to the State, and which the enemy had made one of
their military depôts and strongholds. In anticipation of such
an enterprise, Washington on the 17th of July wrote to General
Sullivan, who commanded at Providence, ordering him to make
the necessary preparations for a descent from the mainland upon
the island, and authorizing him to call in reinforcements of New
England militia. He subsequently sent to his aid the Marquis
Lafayette with two brigades (Varnum’s and Glover’s). Quartermaster-general
Greene also was detached for the service, being a
native of the island, well acquainted with its localities, and having
great influence among its inhabitants. Sullivan was instructed
to form his whole force, Continental, State and militia,
into two equal divisions, one to be commanded by Greene, the
other by Lafayette.
On the 22d of July, the French fleet, having finished taking
in its supplies, appeared again in full force off the bar at Sandy
Hook. The British, who supposed they had only been waiting
on the Shrewsbury coast for the high tides of the latter part of
July, now prepared for a desperate conflict; and, indeed, had
the French fleet been enabled to enter, it is difficult to conceive a
more terrible and destructive struggle than would have ensued
between these gallant and deadly rivals, with their powerful
419armaments brought side to side, and cramped up in so confined
a field of action.
D’Estaing, however, had already determined his course. After
a few demonstrations off the harbor, he stood away to the eastward,
and on the 29th arrived off Point Judith, coming to anchor
within five miles of Newport.
Rhode Island (proper), the object of this expedition, is about
sixteen miles long, running deep into the great Narraganset Bay.
Seaconnet Channel separates it on the east from the mainland,
and on the west the main channel passes between it and Conanicut
Island. The town of Newport is situated near the south end
of the island, facing the west, with Conanicut Island in front
of it. It was protected by batteries and a small naval force.
Here General Sir Robert Pigott, who commanded in the island,
had his head-quarters. The force under him was about six thousand
strong, variously posted about the island, some in works at
the north end, but the greater part within strongly intrenched
lines extending across the island, about three miles from the
town. General Greene hastened from Providence on hearing of
the arrival of the fleet of Count D’Estaing, and went on board
of it at the anchorage to concert a plan of operations. Some
questions of etiquette and precedence rose between them in
settling the mode in which the attack was to be conducted. It was
at length agreed that the fleet should force its way into the harbor
at the same time that the Americans approached by land,
and that the landing of the troops from the ships on the west side
of the island should take place at the same time that the Americans
should cross Seaconnet Channel, and land on the east side
near the north end. This combined operation was to have been
carried promptly into effect, but was postponed until the 10th of
420August, to give time for the reinforcements sent by Washington
to arrive. The delay was fatal to the enterprise.
On the 8th, the Count D’Estaing entered the harbor and
passed up the main channel, exchanging a cannonade with the
batteries as he passed, and anchored a little above the town,
between Goat and Conanicut Islands. The English, on his approach,
burnt or scuttled three frigates and some smaller vessels,
which would otherwise have been captured. General Sullivan,
to be ready for the concerted attack, had moved down from
Providence to the neighborhood of Howland’s Ferry, on the east
side of Seaconnet passage.
The British troops stationed opposite on the north end of the
island, fearful of being cut off, evacuated their works in the
night of the 8th, and drew into the lines at Newport.
Sullivan, seeing the works thus abandoned, could not resist
the temptation to cross the channel in flat-bottomed boats on the
morning of the 9th, and take possession of them.
This sudden movement, a day in advance of the concerted time,
and without due notice given to the count, surprised and offended
him, clashing with his notions of etiquette and punctilio.
He, however, prepared to co-operate, and was ordering out
his boats for the purpose, when, about two o’clock in the day,
his attention was called to a great fleet of ships standing toward
Newport. It was, in fact, the fleet of Lord Howe. That gallant
nobleman had heard of the danger of Newport, and being
reinforced by four stout ships, part of a squadron coming out
under Admiral Byron, had hastened to its relief; though still
inferior in force to the French admiral. The delay of the concerted
attack had enabled him to arrive in time. The wind set
directly into the harbor. Had he entered promptly the French
421would have been placed between two fires, from his ships and the
batteries, and cramped up in a confined channel where their
largest ships had no room to operate. His lordship, however,
merely stood in near the land, communicated with General Pigott,
and having informed himself exactly of the situation of the
French fleet, came to anchor at Point Judith, some distance from
the south-west entrance of the bay.
In the night the wind changed to the north-east. The count
hastened to avail himself of the error of the British admiral.
Favored by the wind, he stood out of the harbor at eight
o’clock in the morning to give the enemy battle where he should
have good sea room; previously sending word to General Sullivan,
who had advanced the preceding afternoon to Quaker Hill,
about ten miles north of Newport, that he would land his promised
troops and marines, and co-operate with him on his return.
The French ships were severely cannonaded as they passed
the batteries, but without material damage. Forming in order
of battle, they bore down upon the fleet of Lord Howe, confidently
anticipating a victory from their superiority of force.
The British ships slipt their cables at their approach, and likewise
formed in line of battle, but his lordship avoided an
encounter while the enemy had the weathergage. To gain this
on the one part, and retain it on the other, the two fleets manœuvred
throughout the day, standing to the southward, and gradually
disappearing from the anxious eyes of the belligerent
forces on Rhode Island.
The army of Sullivan, now left to itself before Newport,
amounted to ten thousand men, having received the militia reinforcements.
Lafayette advised the delay of hostile operations
until the return of D’Estaing, but the American commander
422piqued and chagrined at the departure of his allies, determined
to commence the siege immediately, without waiting for his tardy
aid. On the twelfth, however, came on a tempest of wind and
rain, which raged for two days and nights with unexampled violence.
Tents were blown down; several soldiers and many horses
perished, and a great part of the ammunition recently dealt out
to the troops was destroyed. On the 14th, the weather cleared
up and the sun shone brightly, but the army was worn down and
dispirited. Had the British troops sallied forth at this juncture
hale and fresh from comfortable quarters, it might have fared
badly with their weatherbeaten besiegers. The latter, however,
being unmolested, had time to breathe and refit themselves. The
day was passed in drying their clothes, cleaning their arms,
and putting themselves in order for action. By the next morning
they were again on the alert. Expecting the prompt return
of the French, they now took post on Honeyman’s Hill, about
two miles from the British lines, and began to construct batteries,
form lines of communication, and make regular approaches.
The British were equally active in strengthening their defences.
There was casual cannonading on each side, but nothing of consequence.
Several days elapsed without the reappearance of the
French. The situation of the besiegers was growing critical,
when, on the evening of the 19th, they descried the expected fleet
standing toward the harbor. All now was exultation in the
camp. Should the French with their ships and troops attack the
town by sea and land on the one side, while the Americans
assailed it on the other, the surrender of the place was inevitable.
These sanguine anticipations, however, were shortlived. The
French fleet was in a shattered and forlorn condition. After
423sailing from before Newport, on the 20th, it had manœuvred for
two days with the British fleet, each unwilling to enter into action
without having the weathergage. While thus manœuvring,
the same furious storm which had raged on shore separated and
dispersed them with fearful ravage. Some single encounters of
scattered ships subsequently took place, but without definite
result. All were too much tempest-tost and disabled to make
good fight. Lord Howe with such of his ships as he could collect
bore away to New York to refit, and the French admiral
was now before Newport, but in no plight or mood for fighting.
In a letter to General Sullivan, he informed him that pursuant
to the orders of his sovereign and the advice of his officers,
he was bound for Boston, being instructed to repair to that
port, should he meet with misfortune, or a superior British force
appear upon the coast.
Dismayed at this intelligence, which threatened ruin and disgrace
to the enterprise, Sullivan wrote a letter of remonstrance
to the count, and General Greene and the Marquis Lafayette
repaired with it on board of the admiral’s ship, to enforce it by
their personal exertions. They represented to the count the certainty
of carrying the place in two days, by a combined attack;
and the discouragement and reproach that would follow a failure on
this their first attempt at co-operation; an attempt, too, for which
the Americans had made such great and expensive preparations,
and on which they had indulged such sanguine hopes. These and
other considerations equally urgent had their weight with the
count, and he was inclined to remain and pursue the enterprise,
but was overruled by the principal officers of his fleet. The fact
is, that he was properly a land officer, and they had been indignant
at his having a nautical command over their heads. They
424were glad, therefore, of any opportunity to thwart and mortify
him; and now insisted on his complying with his letter of instructions,
and sailing for Boston. On Lafayette’s taking leave,
the count assured him that he would only remain in Boston
time enough to give his men repose after their long sufferings,
and refit his ships; and trusted to leave the port again within
three weeks after entering it, “to fight for the glory of the
French name and the interests of America.”[145]
The marquis and General Greene returned at midnight, and
made a report of the ill success of their mission. Sullivan sent
another letter on the following day, urging D’Estaing in any
event to leave his land forces. All the general officers, excepting
Lafayette, joined in signing and sending a protest against the
departure of the fleet for Boston, as derogatory to the honor of
France, contrary to the intention of his most Christian majesty
and the interest of his nation, destructive of the welfare of the
United States, and highly injurious to the alliance formed between
the two nations. The fleet was already under way when
Colonel Laurens got on board of the admiral’s ship with the letter
and protest. The count was deeply offended by the tone of
the protest, and the manner in which it was conveyed to him.
He declared to Colonel Laurens that “this paper imposed on the
commander of the king’s squadron the painful, but necessary law
of profound silence.” He continued his course to Boston.
At the sailing of the ships there was a feeling of exasperation
throughout the camp. Sullivan gave vent to his vexation in a
general order on the 24th, wherein he observed: “The general
cannot help lamenting the sudden and unexpected departure of
425the French fleet, as he finds it has a tendency to discourage some
who placed great dependence upon the assistance of it; though
he can by no means suppose the army, or any part of it, endangered
by this movement. He yet hopes the event will prove
America able to procure that by her own arms which her allies
refuse to assist in obtaining.”
On cooler reflection he thought proper, in subsequent orders,
to explain away the rash and unwarrantable imputation on
French loyalty contained in the foregoing document, but a general
feeling of irritation against the French continued to prevail
in the army.
As had been foretold, the departure of the fleet was a death-blow
to the enterprise. Between two and three thousand volunteers
abandoned the camp in the course of four and twenty
hours; others continued to go off; desertions occurred among the
militia, and in a few days the number of besiegers did not exceed
that of the besieged.
All thoughts of offensive operations were now at an end.
The question was how best to extricate the army from its perilous
position. The harbors of Rhode Island being now free, and open
to the enemy, reinforcements might pour in from New York, and
render the withdrawal of the troops disastrous, if not impossible.
To prepare for rapid retreat, if necessary, all the heavy artillery
that could be spared, was sent off from the island. On the 28th
it was determined, in a council of war, to fall back to the military
works at the north end of the island, and fortify there, until it
should be known whether the French fleet would soon return to
their assistance, the Marquis Lafayette setting off with all speed
to have an interview with the Count D’Estaing, and ascertain
the fact.
426General Sullivan broke up his camp, and commenced his retreat
that very night, between nine and ten o’clock; the army
retiring by two roads; the rear covered by parties of light troops,
under Colonels Livingston and Laurens.
Their retreat was not discovered until daylight, when a pursuit
was commenced. The covering parties behaved gallantly
making frequent stands, abandoning one eminence only to take
post on another, and keeping up a retreating fire that checked the
advance of the enemy. After a series of skirmishes they were
pressed back to the fortified grounds on the north end of the
island; but Sullivan had already taken post there, on Batt’s Hill,
the main body of his army being drawn up in order of battle,
with strong works in their rear, and a redoubt in front of the
right wing.
The British now took post on an advantageous height called
Quaker Hill, a little more than a mile from the American front,
whence they commenced a cannonade which was briskly returned.
Skirmishing ensued until about ten o’clock, when two British
sloops-of-war and some small vessels having gained a favorable
position, the enemy’s troops, under cover of their fire, advanced
in force to turn the right flank of the American army, and capture
the redoubt which protected it. This was bravely defended
by General Greene: a sharp action ensued, which had nearly
become a general one; between two and three hundred men were
killed on each side; the British at length drew back to their
artillery and works on Quaker Hill, and a mutual cannonade was
resumed and kept up until night.
On the following day (29th) the enemy continued his distant
firing, but waited for reinforcements before coming to close quarters.
In the mean time, General Sullivan had received intelligence
427that Lord Howe had again put to sea with the design, no
doubt, to attempt the relief of Newport and then followed
another report that a fleet with troops was actually off Block
Island, and must arrive almost immediately in the harbor.
Under these circumstances it was determined to abandon
Rhode Island. To do so with safety, however, required the
utmost caution, as the hostile sentries were within four hundred
yards of each other, and any suspicious movements would be
easily discovered and reported to the British commander. The
position on Batt’s Hill favored a deception. Tents were brought
forward and pitched in sight of the enemy, and a great part of
the troops employed throughout the day in throwing up works, as
if the post was to be resolutely maintained; at the same time, the
heavy baggage and stores were quietly conveyed away in the rear
of the hill, and ferried across the bay. As soon as it was dark
the tents were struck, fires were lighted at various points, the
troops withdrawn, and in a few hours the whole were transported
across the channel to the mainland. In the height of the transit,
Lafayette arrived. He had ridden from the island to Boston, a
distance of nearly seventy miles, in seven hours, and had conferred
with the French admiral.
D’Estaing had convinced him of the inadequacy of his naval
force, but had made a spirited offer of leading his troops by land
to co-operate with the Americans. Eager to be in time for any
engagement that might take place, Lafayette had spurred back
still more speedily than he went, but was disappointed and mortified
at finding all the fighting over. He arrived in time, however,
to bring off the pickets and covering parties, amounting to
a thousand men, which he did in such excellent order, that not a
man was left behind, nor the smallest article lost.
428The whole army had crossed by two o’clock in the morning
unperceived by the enemy, and had reason to congratulate themselves
on the course they had taken, and the quickness of their
movements; for the very next day Sir Henry Clinton arrived at
Newport in a light squadron, with a reinforcement of four
thousand men, a naval and land force that might effectually have
cut off Sullivan’s retreat, had he lingered on the island.
Sir Henry, finding he had arrived a day too late, returned to
New York, but first detached Major-general Sir Charles Grey
with the troops, on a ravaging expedition to the eastward; chiefly
against ports which were the haunts of privateers. This was
the same general that had surprised Wayne in the preceding
year, and effected such slaughter among his men with the bayonet.
He appears to have been fitted for rough and merciless
warfare. In the course of his present expedition he destroyed
more than seventy vessels in Acushnet River, some of them
privateers with their prizes, others peaceful merchant ships. New
Bedford and Fair Haven having been made military and naval
deposits, were laid waste, wharves demolished, rope-walks, storehouses
and mills, with several private dwellings, wrapped in
flames. Similar destruction was effected at the Island of Martha’s
Vineyard, a resort of privateers; where the inhabitants
were disarmed, and a heavy contribution levied upon them in
sheep and cattle. Having thus ravaged the coasts of New England,
the squadron returned laden with inglorious spoil to New
York.
Lord Howe, also, who had sailed for Boston in the hope of
intercepting the Count D’Estaing, and had reached there on the
30th of August, found the French fleet safely sheltered in Nantasket
Road, and protected by American batteries erected on commanding
429points. He also returned to New York, and shortly
afterward, availing himself of a permission granted him some
time before by government, resigned the command of the fleet to
Admiral Gambier, to hold it until the arrival of Admiral Byron.
His lordship then returned to England, having rendered important
services by his operations along the American coast and on
the waters of the Delaware, and presenting a strong contrast, in
his incessant activity, to the easy indolence and self-indulgence
of his brother.
The failure of the combined enterprise against Rhode Island
was a cause of universal chagrin and disappointment, but to
none more so than to Washington, as is evident from the following
passage of a letter to his brother, John Augustine:
“An unfortunate storm, and some measures taken in consequence
of it by the French admiral, blasted in one moment the
fairest hopes that ever were conceived; and, from a moral certainty
of success, rendered it a matter of rejoicing to get our
own troops safe off the island. If the garrison of that place,
consisting of nearly six thousand men, had been captured, as
there was, in appearance at least, a hundred to one in favor of
it, it would have given the finishing blow to British pretensions
of sovereignty over this country; and would, I am persuaded,
have hastened the departure of the troops in New York, as
fast as their canvas wings would carry them away.”
But what gave Washington the greatest solicitude, was the
effect of this disappointment upon the public mind. The failure
of the enterprise was generally attributed to the departure of
the French fleet from Newport, and there was at one time such
popular exasperation, that it was feared the means of repairing
the French ships at Boston would be withheld. Count D’Estaing,
430and the other French officers, on their part, were irritated
by the protests of the American officers, and the expressions in
Sullivan’s general order derogatory to French loyalty. The
Count addressed a letter to Congress, explaining and vindicating
his conduct subsequent to his arrival on the coast.
Washington regarded this mutual irritation which had so
suddenly sprung up between the army and the fleet, with the
most poignant anxiety. He wrote to Sullivan and Greene on the
subject, urging them to suppress the feuds and jealousies which
had already arisen, to conceal as much as possible from the
soldiery and public, the misunderstandings which had occurred
between the officers of the two nations; to discountenance all
illiberal or unfriendly observations on the part of the army, and
to cultivate the utmost harmony and good-will.
Congress, also, endeavored to suppress the protest of the
officers of Sullivan’s army which had given so much offence;
and, in a public resolution, expressed their perfect approbation
of the conduct of the count, and their sense of his zeal and
attachment.
Nothing perhaps tended more to soothe his wounded sensibilities,
than a letter from Washington, couched in the most
delicate and considerate language. “If the deepest regret, that
the best concerted enterprise and bravest exertions should have
been rendered fruitless by a disaster, which human prudence
was incapable of foreseeing or preventing, can alleviate disappointment,
you may be assured that the whole continent sympathizes
with you. It will be a consolation to you to reflect, that
the thinking part of mankind do not form their judgment from
events; and that their equity will ever attach equal glory to
those actions which deserve success, and those which have been
431crowned with it. It is in the trying circumstances to which
your excellency has been exposed, that the virtues of a great
mind are displayed in their brightest lustre, and that a general’s
character is better known than in the hour of victory. It was
yours, by every title which can give it; and the adverse element,
which robbed you of your prize, can never deprive you of the
glory due to you.”
CHAPTER XXXVII.
432
INDIAN WARFARE—DESOLATION OF THE VALLEY OF WYOMING—MOVEMENTS
IN NEW YORK—COUNTER MOVEMENTS OF WASHINGTON—FORAGING PARTIES
OF THE ENEMY—BAYLOR’S DRAGOONS MASSACRED AT OLD TAPPAN—BRITISH
EXPEDITION AGAINST LITTLE EGG HARBOR—MASSACRE OF PULASKI’S
INFANTRY—RETALIATION ON DONOP’S RANGERS—ARRIVAL OF ADMIRAL
BYRON—ENDEAVORS TO ENTRAP D’ESTAING, BUT IS DISAPPOINTED—EXPEDITION
AGAINST ST. LUCIA—EXPEDITION AGAINST GEORGIA—CAPTURE OF
SAVANNAH—GEORGIA SUBDUED—GENERAL LINCOLN SENT TO COMMAND IN
THE SOUTH.
While hostilities were carried on in the customary form along
the Atlantic borders, Indian warfare, with all its atrocity, was
going on in the interior. The British post at Niagara was its
cradle. It was the common rallying place of tories, refugees,
savage warriors, and other desperadoes of the frontiers. Hither
Brant, the noted Indian chief, had retired after the repulse of
St. Leger at Fort Schuyler, to plan further mischief; and here
was concerted the memorable incursion into the Valley of
Wyoming, suggested by tory refugees, who had until recently
inhabited it.
The Valley of Wyoming is a beautiful region lying along the
Susquehanna. Peaceful as was its aspect, it had been the scene
of sanguinary feuds prior to the Revolution, between the people
of Pennsylvania and Connecticut, who both laid claim to it.
433Seven rural forts or block-houses, situated on various parts of
the valley, had been strongholds during these territorial contests,
and remained as places of refuge for women and children in times
of Indian ravage.
The expedition now set on foot against it, in June, was composed
of Butler’s rangers, Johnson’s royal greens, and Brant
with his Indian braves. Their united force, about eleven hundred
strong, was conducted by Colonel John Butler, renowned in
Indian warfare. Passing down the Chemung and Susquehanna
in canoes, they landed at a place called Three Islands, struck
through the wilderness to a gap or a “notch” of the mountains, by
which they entered the Valley of Wyoming. Butler made his
head-quarters at one of the strongholds already mentioned, called
Wintermoot’s Fort, from a tory family of the same name.
Hence he sent out his marauding parties to plunder and lay
waste the country.
Rumors of this intended invasion had reached the valley some
time before the appearance of the enemy, and had spread great
consternation. Most of the sturdy yeomanry were absent in the
army. A company of sixty men, enlisted under an act of Congress,
and hastily and imperfectly organized, yet styling themselves
regulars, took post at one of the strongholds called Forty
Fort; where they were joined by about three hundred of the
most efficient of the yeomanry, armed and equipped in rude
rustic style. In this emergency old men and boys volunteered
to meet the common danger, posting themselves in the smaller
forts in which women and children had taken refuge. Colonel
Zebulon Butler, an officer of the continental army, took the
general command. Several officers arrived from the army, having
obtained leave to repair home for the protection of their
434families. They brought word that a reinforcement, sent by
Washington, was on its way.
In the mean time the marauding parties sent out by Butler
and Brant were spreading desolation through the valley; farm
houses were wrapped in flames; husbandmen were murdered
while at work in the fields; all who had not taken refuge in the
fort were threatened with destruction. What was to be done?
Wait for the arrival of the promised reinforcement, or attempt
to check the ravage? The latter was rashly determined on.
Leaving the women and children in Forty Fort, Colonel
Zebulon Butler with his men sallied forth on the 3d of July, and
made a rapid move upon Wintermoot Fort, hoping to come upon
it by surprise. They found the enemy drawn up in front of it,
in a line extending from the river to a marsh; Colonel John
Butler and his rangers, with Johnson’s royal greens, on the left;
Indians and tories on the right.
The Americans formed a line of the same extent; the regulars
under Colonel Butler on the right flank, resting on the
river, the militia under Colonel Denison on the left wing, on the
marsh. A sharp fire was opened from right to left; after a few
volleys the enemy in front of Colonel Butler began to give way.
The Indians, however, throwing themselves into the marsh,
turned the left flank of the Americans, and attacked the militia
in the rear. Denison, finding himself exposed to a cross fire,
sought to change his position, and gave the word to fall back.
It was mistaken for an order to retreat. In an instant the left
wing turned and fled; all attempts to rally it were vain; the
panic extended to the right wing. The savages, throwing down
their rifles, rushed on with tomahawk and scalping-knife, and a
horrible massacre ensued. Some of the Americans escaped to
435Forty Fort, some swam the river; others broke their way across
the swamp, and climbed the mountain; some few were taken
prisoners; but the greater number were slaughtered.
The desolation of the valley was now completed; fields were
laid waste, houses burnt, and their inhabitants murdered. According
to the British accounts, upwards of four hundred of the
yeomanry of Wyoming were slain, but the women and children
were spared, “and desired to retire to their rebel friends.”[146]
Upwards of five thousand persons, says the same account, fled
in the utmost distress and consternation, seeking refuge in the
settlements on the Lehigh and the Delaware. After completing
this horrible work of devastation, the enemy retired before the
arrival of the troops detached by Washington.
We might have swelled our narrative of this affair by many
individual acts of atrocity committed by royalists on their old
friends and neighbors, and even their near relatives; but we forbear
to darken our page by such stigmas on human nature.
Suffice it to say, it was one of the most atrocious outrages perpetrated
throughout the war; and, as usual, the tories concerned in
it were the most vindictive and merciless of the savage crew.
Of the measures taken in consequence we shall speak hereafter.
For a great part of the summer, Washington had remained
encamped at White Plains, watching the movements of the
enemy at New York. Early in September he observed a great
stir of preparation; cannon and military stores were embarked,
and a fleet of one hundred and forty transports were ready to
make sail. What was their destination? Washington deplored
the facility possessed by the enemy of transporting their troops
436from point to point by sea. “Their rapid movements,” said
he, “enable them to give us solicitude for the safety of remote
points, to succor which we should have to make ruinous marches,
and after all, perhaps, find ourselves the dupes of a feint.”
There were but two capital objects which they could have in
view, beside the defeat and dispersion of his army. One was to
get possession of the forts and passes of the Highlands; the
other, by a junction of their land and naval forces, to attempt
the destruction of the French fleet at Boston, and regain possession
of that town. These points were so far asunder, that it was
difficult to protect the one, without leaving the other exposed.
To do the best that the nature of the case would admit, Washington
strengthened the works and reinforced the garrison in the
Highlands, stationing Putnam with two brigades in the neighborhood
of West Point. General Gates was sent with three
brigades to Danbury in Connecticut, where he was joined by two
brigades under General McDougal, while Washington moved his
camp to a rear position at Fredericksburg on the borders of Connecticut,
and about thirty miles from West Point, so as to be
ready for a movement to the eastward or a speedy junction for
the defence of the Hudson. To facilitate an eastern movement
he took measures to have all the roads leading to Boston
repaired.
Scarce had Washington moved from White Plains, when Sir
Henry Clinton threw a detachment of five thousand men under
Lord Cornwallis into the Jerseys, between the Hackensack and
Hudson Rivers, and another of three thousand under Knyphausen
into Westchester County, between the Hudson and the Bronx.
These detachments held communication with each other, and by
437the aid of flat-bottomed boats could unite their forces, in twenty-four
hours, on either side of the Hudson.
Washington considered these mere foraging expeditions,
though on a large scale, and detached troops into the Jerseys to
co-operate with the militia in checking them; but, as something
more might be intended, he ordered General Putnam to cross the
river to West Point, for its immediate security: while he himself
moved with a division of his army to Fishkill.
Wayne, who was with the detachment in the Jerseys, took
post with a body of militia and a regiment of light-horse in front
of the division of Lord Cornwallis. The militia were quartered
at the village of New Tappan; but Lieutenant-colonel Baylor,
who commanded the light-horse, chose to encamp apart, to be
free, as is supposed, from the control of Wayne. He took up
his quarters, therefore, in Old Tappan, where his men lay very
negligently and unguardedly in barns. Cornwallis had intelligence
of their exposed situation, and laid a plan to cut off the
whole detachment. A body of troops from Knyphausen’s division
was to cross the Hudson in the night, and come by surprise
upon the militia in New Tappan: at the same time, Major-general
Grey, of marauding renown, was to advance on the left,
and attack Baylor and his dragoons in their careless quarters in
Old Tappan.
Fortunately Knyphausen’s troops, led by Lieutenant-colonel
Campbell, were slow in crossing the river, and the militia were
apprised by deserters of their danger in time to escape. Not so
with Baylor’s party. General Grey, having cut off a sergeant’s
patrol, advanced in silence, and surrounded with his troops three
barns in which the dragoons were sleeping. We have seen, in his
surprise of Wayne’s detachment in the preceding year, how
438stealthy and effective he was in the work of destruction. To
prevent noise he had caused his men to draw the charges and
take the flints from their guns, and fix their bayonets. The
bayonet was his favorite weapon. With this his men rushed
forward, and, deaf for a time to all cries for mercy, made a
savage slaughter of naked and defenceless men. Eleven were
killed on the spot, and twenty-five mangled with repeated thrusts,
some receiving ten, twelve, and even sixteen wounds. Among
the wounded were Colonel Baylor and Major Clough, the last of
whom soon died. About forty were taken prisoners, mostly
through the humane interposition of one of Grey’s captains,
whose feelings revolted at the orders of his sanguinary commander.
This whole movement of troops, on both sides of the Hudson,
was designed to cover an expedition against Little Egg Harbor,
on the east coast of New Jersey, a noted rendezvous of American
privateers. It was conducted in much the same spirit with
that of General Grey to the eastward. Three hundred regular
troops, and a body of royalist volunteers from the Jerseys, headed
by Captain Patrick Ferguson, embarked at New York on board
galleys and transports, and made for Little Egg Harbor under
convoy of vessels of war. They were long at sea. The country
heard of their coming; four privateers put to sea and escaped;
others took refuge up the river. The wind prevented the transports
from entering. The troops embarked in row galleys and
small craft, and pushed twenty miles up the river to the village
of Chestnut Neck. Here were batteries without guns, prize
ships which had been hastily scuttled, and storehouses for
the reception of prize goods. The batteries and storehouses
were demolished, the prize ships burnt, saltworks destroyed and
439private dwellings sacked and laid in ashes; all, it was pretended,
being the property of persons concerned in privateering, or
“whose activity in the cause of America and unrelenting persecution
of the loyalists, marked them out as the proper objects
of vengeance.” As those persons were pointed out by the tory
volunteers of New Jersey who accompanied the expedition, we
may suppose how far private pique and neighborly feud entered
into these proscriptions.
The vessels which brought this detachment being wind-bound
for several days, Capt. Ferguson had time for another enterprise.
Among the forces detached by Washington into the Jerseys to
check these ravages, was the Count Pulaski’s legionary corps,
composed of three companies of foot, and a troop of horse,
officered principally by foreigners. A deserter from the corps
brought word to the British commander that the legion was
cantoned about twelve miles up the river; the infantry in three
houses by themselves; Count Pulaski with the cavalry at some
distance apart.
Informed of these circumstances, Captain Ferguson embarked
in boats with two hundred and fifty men, ascended the river in
the night, landed at four in the morning, and surrounded the
houses in which the infantry were sleeping. “It being a night
attack,” says the captain in his official report, “little quarter of
course could be given, so there were only five prisoners.” It
was indeed a massacre similar to those of the bayonet-loving
General Grey. Fifty of the infantry were butchered on the
spot; among whom were two of the foreign officers, the Baron
de Bose and Lieutenant de la Broderie.
The clattering of hoofs gave note of the approach of Pulaski
and his horse, whereupon the British made a rapid retreat to
440their boats and pulled down the river, and thus ended the marauding
expedition of Captain Ferguson, worthy of the times of
the buccaneers. He attempted afterwards to excuse his wanton
butchery of unarmed men, by alleging that the deserter from
Pulaski’s legion told him the count, in his general orders, forbade
all granting of quarters; information which proved to be
false, and which, had he been a gentleman of honorable spirit,
he never would have believed, especially on the word of a deserter.
The detachment on the east side of the Hudson likewise made
a predatory and disgraceful foray from their lines at King’s
Bridge, towards the American encampment at White Plains,
plundering the inhabitants without discrimination, not only of
their provisions and forage, but of the very clothes on their
backs. None were more efficient in this ravage than a party of
about one hundred of Captain Donop’s Hessian yagers, and they
were in full maraud between Tarrytown and Dobbs’ Ferry,
when a detachment of infantry under Colonel Richard Butler,
and of cavalry under Major Henry Lee, came upon them by
surprise, killed ten of them on the spot, captured a lieutenant and
eighteen privates, and would have taken or destroyed the whole,
had not the extreme roughness of the country impeded the action
of the cavalry, and enabled the yagers to escape by scrambling
up hill-sides or plunging into ravines. This occurred but
three days after the massacre of Colonel Baylor’s party, on the
opposite side of the Hudson.
The British detachments having accomplished the main objects
of their movements, returned to New York; leaving those
parts of the country they had harassed still more determined in
their hostility, having achieved nothing but what is least honorable
441and most detestable in warfare. We need no better comment
on these measures than one furnished by a British writer
of the day. “Upon the whole,” observes he, “even if the
treaty between France and America had not rendered all hope
of success from the present conciliatory system hopeless, these
predatory and irritating expeditions would have appeared peculiarly
ill-timed and unlucky. Though strongly and warmly recommended
by many here as the most effectual mode of war,
we scarcely remember an instance in which they have not been
more mischievous than useful to the grand objects of either reducing
or reconciling the provinces.”[147]
We may add here that General Grey, who had most signalized
himself in these sanguinary exploits, and who from his stealthy
precaution to insure the use of the bayonet, had acquired the
surname of “no flint,” was rewarded for a long career of military
services by being raised to the peerage as Lord Grey of Howick,
ultimately Earl Grey. He was father of the celebrated prime
minister of that name.
About the middle of September Admiral Byron arrived at
New York with the residue of the scattered armament, which had
sailed from England in June to counteract the designs of the
Count D’Estaing. Finding that the count was still repairing his
shattered fleet in the harbor of Boston, he put to sea again as
soon as his ships were refitted, and set sail for that port to entrap
him. Success seemed likely to crown his schemes: he arrived
off Boston on the 1st of November: his rival was still in port.
Scarce had the admiral entered the bay, however, when another
violent storm drove him out to sea, disabled his ships, and compelled
442him to put into Rhode Island to refit. Meanwhile the
count having his ships in good order, and finding the coast clear,
put to sea, and made the best of his way for the West Indies.
Previous to his departure he issued a proclamation dated the 28th
of October, addressed to the French inhabitants of Canada, inviting
them to resume allegiance to their former sovereign. This
was a measure in which he was not authorized by instructions
from his government, and which was calculated to awaken a jealousy
in the American mind as to the ultimate views of France in
taking a part in this contest. It added to the chagrin occasioned
by the failure of the expedition against Rhode Island, and the complete
abandonment by the French of the coasts of the United States.
The force at New York, which had been an object of watchful
solicitude, was gradually dispersed in different directions. Immediately
after the departure of Admiral Byron for Boston,
another naval expedition had been set on foot by Sir Henry Clinton.
All being ready, a fleet of transports with five thousand
men, under General Grant, convoyed by Commodore Hotham
with a squadron of six ships of war, set sail on the third of
November, with the secret design of an attack on St. Lucia.
Towards the end of the same month, another body of troops,
under Lieutenant-colonel Campbell, sailed for Georgia in the
squadron of Commodore Hyde Parker; the British cabinet having
determined to carry the war into the Southern States. At
the same time General Prevost, who commanded in Florida, was
ordered by Sir Henry Clinton to march to the banks of the
Savannah River, and attack Georgia in flank, while the expedition
under Campbell should attack it in front on the seaboard. We
will briefly note the issue of these enterprises, so far beyond
Washington’s control.
443The squadron of Commodore Hyde Parker anchored in the
Savannah River towards the end of December. An American
force of about six hundred regulars, and a few militia under
General Robert Howe, were encamped near the town, being the
remnant of an army with which that officer had invaded Florida
in the preceding summer, but had been obliged to evacuate it by
a mortal malady which desolated his camp.
Lieutenant-colonel Campbell landed his troops on the 29th of
December, about three miles below the town. The whole country
bordering the river is a deep morass, cut up by creeks, and only
to be traversed by causeways. Over one of these, six hundred
yards in length, with a ditch on each side, Colonel Campbell
advanced, putting to flight a small party stationed to guard it.
General Howe had posted his little army on the main road with
the river on his left and a morass in front. A negro gave Campbell
information of a path leading through the morass, by which
troops might get unobserved to the rear of the Americans. Sir
James Baird was detached with the light-infantry by this path,
while Colonel Campbell advanced in front. The Americans,
thus suddenly attacked in front and rear, were completely routed;
upwards of one hundred were either killed on the spot, or
perished in the morass; thirty-eight officers and four hundred and
fifteen privates were taken prisoners, the rest retreated up the
Savannah River and crossed into South Carolina. Savannah, the
capital of Georgia, was taken possession of by the victors, with
cannon, military stores and provisions; their loss was only seven
killed and nineteen wounded.
Colonel Campbell conducted himself with great moderation;
protecting the persons and property of the inhabitants, and
proclaiming security and favor to all that should return to their
444allegiance. Numbers in consequence flocked to the British standard:
the lower part of Georgia was considered as subdued, and
posts were established by the British to maintain possession.
While Colonel Campbell had thus invaded Georgia in front,
General Prevost, who commanded the British forces in Florida,
had received orders from Sir Henry Clinton to take it in flank.
He accordingly traversed deserts to its southern frontier, took
Sunbury, the only remaining fort of importance, and marched to
Savannah, where he assumed the general command, detaching
Colonel Campbell against Augusta. By the middle of January
(1779) all Georgia was reduced to submission.
A more experienced American general than Howe had by this
time arrived to take command of the Southern Department,
Major-general Lincoln, who had gained such reputation in the
campaign against Burgoyne, and whose appointment to this station
had been solicited by the delegates from South Carolina and
Georgia. He had received his orders from Washington in the
beginning of October. Of his operations at the South we shall
have occasion to speak hereafter.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
445
WINTER CANTONMENTS OF THE AMERICAN ARMY—WASHINGTON AT MIDDLEBROOK—PLAN
OF ALARM SIGNALS FOR THE JERSEYS—LAFAYETTE’S PROJECT
FOR AN INVASION OF CANADA—FAVORED BY CONGRESS—CONDEMNED
BY WASHINGTON—RELINQUISHED—WASHINGTON IN PHILADELPHIA—THE
WAR SPIRIT DECLINING—DISSENSIONS IN CONGRESS—SECTIONAL FEELINGS—PATRIOTIC
APPEALS OF WASHINGTON—PLANS FOR THE NEXT CAMPAIGN—INDIAN
ATROCITIES TO BE REPRESSED—AVENGING EXPEDITION SET ON
FOOT—DISCONTENTS OF THE JERSEY TROOPS—APPEASED BY THE INTERFERENCE
OF WASHINGTON—SUCCESSFUL CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE INDIANS.
About the beginning of December, Washington distributed his
troops for the winter in a line of strong cantonments extending
from Long Island Sound to the Delaware. General Putnam
commanded at Danbury, General McDougall in the Highlands,
while the head-quarters of the commander-in-chief were near
Middlebrook in the Jerseys. The objects of this arrangement
were the protection of the country; the security of the important
posts on the Hudson, and the safety, discipline, and easy subsistence
of the army.
In the course of this winter he devised a plan of alarm
signals, which General Philemon Dickinson was employed to
carry into effect. On Bottle Hill, which commanded a vast map
of country, sentinels kept watch day and night. Should there be
an irruption of the enemy, an eighteen pounder, called the Old
446Sow, fired every half hour, gave the alarm in the day time or in
dark and stormy nights; an immense fire or beacon at other
times. On the booming of that heavy gun, lights sprang up from
hill to hill along the different ranges of heights; the country
was aroused, and the yeomanry, hastily armed, hurried to their
gathering places.
Washington was now doomed to experience great loss in the
narrow circle of those about him, on whose attachment and
devotion he could place implicit reliance. The Marquis Lafayette,
seeing no immediate prospect of active employment in the
United States, and anticipating a war on the continent of
Europe, was disposed to return to France to offer his services to
his sovereign; desirous, however, of preserving a relation with
America, he merely solicited from Congress the liberty of going
home for the next winter; engaging himself not to depart until
certain that the campaign was over. Washington backed his
application for a furlough, as an arrangement that would still
link him with the service; expressing his reluctance to part with
an officer who united “to all the military fire of youth an
uncommon maturity of judgment.” Congress in consequence
granted the marquis an unlimited leave of absence, to return to
America whenever he should find it convenient.
The marquis, in truth, was full of a grand project for the
following summer’s campaign, which he was anxious to lay before
the cabinet of Versailles; it was to effect the conquest of
Canada by the combined forces, naval and military, of France and
the United States. Of course it embraced a wide scope of
operations. One body of American troops was to be directed
against Detroit; another against Niagara; a third was to seize
Oswego, launch a flotilla, and get command of Lake Ontario,
447and a fourth to penetrate Canada by the river St. Francis, and
secure Montreal and the posts on Lake Champlain. While the
Americans thus invaded Upper Canada, a French fleet with five
thousand men was to ascend the St. Lawrence, and make an
attack on Quebec. The scheme met the approbation of a great
majority in Congress, who ordered it to be communicated to Dr.
Franklin, then minister at Paris, to be laid by him before the
French cabinet. Previous to a final determination, the House prudently
consulted the opinion of the commander-in-chief. Washington
opposed the scheme, both by letter and in a personal interview
with Congress, as too complicated and extensive, and requiring
too great resources in men and money to be undertaken with
a prospect of success. He opposed it also on political grounds.
Though it had apparently originated in a proposition of the
Marquis Lafayette, it might have had its birth in the French
cabinet, with a view to some ulterior object. He suggested the
danger of introducing a large body of French troops into Canada,
and putting them in possession of the capital of a province
attached to them by all the ties of blood, habits, manners, religion,
and former connection of government. Let us realize for a
moment, said he, the striking advantages France would derive
from the possession of Canada; an extensive territory, abounding
in supplies for the use of her islands; a vast source of the most
beneficial commerce with the Indian nations, which she might
then monopolize; ports of her own on this Continent independent
of the precarious good-will of an ally; the whole trade of
Newfoundland whenever she pleased to engross it, the finest
nursery for seamen in the world; and finally, the facility of
awing and controlling these States, the natural and most formidable
rival of every maritime power in Europe. All these advantages
448he feared might prove too great a temptation to be resisted
by any power actuated by the common maxims of national
policy; and, with all his confidence in the favorable sentiments
of France, he did not think it politic to subject her disinterestedness
to such a trial. “To waive every other consideration,” said
he, grandly, in the conclusion of a letter to the President of
Congress, “I do not like to add to the number of our national
obligations. I would wish, as much as possible, to avoid giving
a foreign power new claims of merit for services performed to the
United States, and would ask no assistance that is not indispensable.”
The strenuous and far-seeing opposition of Washington was at
length effectual; and the magnificent, but hazardous scheme, was
entirely, though slowly and reluctantly abandoned. It appears
since, that the cabinet of France had really no hand either in
originating or promoting it; but, on the contrary, was opposed to
any expedition against Canada; and the instructions to their
minister forbade him to aid in any such scheme of conquest.
Much of the winter was passed by Washington in Philadelphia,
occupied in devising and discussing plans for the campaign
of 1779. It was an anxious moment with him. Circumstances
which inspired others with confidence, filled him with solicitude.
The alliance with France had produced a baneful feeling of
security, which, it appeared to him, was paralyzing the energies
of the country. England, it was thought, would now be too
much occupied in securing her position in Europe, to increase her
force or extend her operations in America. Many, therefore,
considered the war as virtually at an end; and were unwilling
to make the sacrifices, or supply the means necessary for important
military undertakings.
449Dissensions, too, and party feuds were breaking out in Congress,
owing to the relaxation of that external pressure of a common
and imminent danger, which had heretofore produced a
unity of sentiment and action. That august body had, in fact,
greatly deteriorated since the commencement of the war. Many
of those whose names had been as watchwords at the Declaration
of Independence, had withdrawn from the national councils;
occupied either by their individual affairs, or by the affairs
of their individual States. Washington, whose comprehensive
patriotism embraced the whole Union, deprecated and deplored
the dawning of this sectional spirit. America, he declared, had
never stood in more imminent need of the wise, patriotic, and
spirited exertions of her sons than at this period. The States,
separately, were too much engaged in their local concerns, and
had withdrawn too many of their ablest men from the general
council, for the good of the common weal. “Our political
system,” observed he, “is like the mechanism of a clock; it is
useless to keep the smaller wheels in order, if the greater one, the
prime mover of the whole, is neglected.” It was his wish, therefore,
that each State should not only choose, but absolutely
compel its ablest men to attend Congress, instructed to investigate
and reform public abuses.
Nothing can exceed his appeal to the patriotism of his native
State, Virginia, in a letter to Colonel Harrison, the speaker of its
House of Delegates, written on the 30th of December. “Our
affairs are in a more distressed, ruinous, and deplorable condition
than they have been since the commencement of the war. By a
faithful laborer, then, in the cause; by a man who is daily injuring
his private estate without the smallest earthly advantage, not
common to all in case of a favorable issue to the dispute; by one
450who wishes the prosperity of America most devoutly, but sees it,
or thinks he sees it, on the brink of ruin; you are besought most
earnestly, my dear Colonel Harrison, to exert yourself in endeavoring
to rescue your country, by sending your best and ablest
men to Congress. These characters must not slumber nor sleep
at home in such a time of pressing danger. They must not content
themselves with the enjoyment of places of honor or profit
in their own State, while the common interests of America are
mouldering and sinking into irretrievable ruin. * * * If I
were to be called upon to draw a picture of the times and of
men, from what I have seen, heard, and in part know, I should in
one word say, that idleness, dissipation, and extravagance seem to
have laid fast hold of most of them; that speculation, peculation,
and an insatiable thirst for riches, seem to have got the better
of every other consideration, and almost of every order of men;
that party disputes and personal quarrels are the great business
of the day; while the momentous concerns of an empire, a great
and accumulating debt, ruined finances, depreciated money, and
want of credit, which in its consequences is the want of every
thing, are but secondary considerations, and postponed from day
to day, from week to week, as if our affairs wore the most promising
aspect. * * * * * In the present situation of things,
I cannot help asking where are Mason, Wythe, Jefferson, Nicholas,
Pendleton, Nelson, and another I could name? And why, if
you are sufficiently impressed with your danger, do you not, as
New York has done in the case of Mr. Jay, send an extra member
or two, for at least a limited time, till the great business of
the nation is put upon a more respectable and happy establishment? * * * I confess to you I feel more real distress on
451account of the present appearance of things, than I have done at
any one time since the commencement of the dispute.”
Nothing seems to have disgusted him more during his visit to
Philadelphia, than the manner in which the concerns of the
patriot camp were forgotten amid the revelry of the capital.
“An assembly, a concert, a dinner, a supper, that will cost three
or four hundred pounds, will not only take men off from acting
in this business, but even from thinking of it; while a great part
of the officers of our army, from absolute necessity, are quitting
the service, and the more virtuous few, rather than do this, are
sinking by sure degrees into beggary and want.”
In discussing the policy to be observed in the next campaign,
Washington presumed the enemy would maintain their present
posts, and conduct the war as heretofore; in which case he was
for remaining entirely on the defensive; with the exception of
such minor operations as might be necessary to check the ravages
of the Indians. The country, he observed, was in a languid and
exhausted state, and had need of repose. The interruption to
agricultural pursuits, and the many hands abstracted from husbandry
by military service, had produced a scarcity of bread
and forage, and rendered it difficult to subsist large armies.
Neither was it easy to recruit these armies. There was abundance
of employment; wages were high, the value of money
was low; consequently there was but little temptation to enlist.
Plans had been adopted to remedy the deranged state of
the currency, but they would be slow in operation. Great
economy must in the mean time be observed in the public expenditure.
The participation of France in the war, also, and the prospect
that Spain would soon be embroiled with England, must certainly
452divide the attention of the enemy, and allow America a breathing
time; these and similar considerations were urged by Washington
in favor of a defensive policy. One single exception was
made by him. The horrible ravages and massacres perpetrated
by the Indians and their tory allies at Wyoming, had been followed
by similar atrocities at Cherry Valley, in the State of New
York, and called for signal vengeance to prevent a repetition.
Washington knew by experience that Indian warfare, to be effective,
should never be merely defensive, but must be carried into
the enemy’s country. The Six Nations, the most civilized of the
savage tribes, had proved themselves the most formidable. His
idea was to make war upon them in their own style; penetrate
their country, lay waste their villages and settlements, and at the
same time destroy the British post at Niagara, that nestling-place
of tories and refugees.
The policy thus recommended was adopted by Congress. An
expedition was set on foot to carry that part relative to the Indians
into execution: but here a circumstance occurred, which
Washington declared gave him more pain than any thing that
had happened in the war. A Jersey brigade being ordered to
march, the officers of the first regiment hesitated to obey. By
the depreciation of paper money, their pay was incompetent to
their support; it was, in fact, merely nominal; the consequence
was, as they alleged, that they were loaded with debt, and their
families at home were starving; yet the Legislature of their
State turned a deaf ear to their complaints. Thus aggrieved,
they addressed a remonstrance to the Legislature on the subject
of their pay, intimating that, should it not receive the immediate
attention of that body, they might, at the expiration of three
453days, be considered as having resigned, and other officers might
be appointed in their place.
Here was one of the many dilemmas which called for the
judgment, moderation, and great personal weight and influence
of Washington. He was eminently the soldier’s friend, but he
was no less thoroughly the patriot general. He knew and felt
the privations and distresses of the army, and the truth of the
grievances complained of; but he saw, also, the evil consequences
that might result from such a course as that which the
officers had adopted. Acting, therefore, as a mediator, he corroborated
the statements of the complainants on the one hand,
urging on government the necessity of a more general and adequate
provision for the officers of the army, and the danger of
subjecting them to too severe and continued privations. On
the other hand, he represented to the officers the difficulties
with which government itself had to contend from a deranged
currency and exhausted resources; and the unavoidable delays
that consequently impeded its moneyed operations. He called
upon them, therefore, for a further exertion of that patience and
perseverance which had hitherto done them the highest honor
at home and abroad, had inspired him with unlimited confidence
in their virtue, and consoled him amidst every perplexity and
reverse of fortune to which the national affairs had been exposed.
“Now that we have made so great a progress to the attainment
of the end we have in view,” observed he, “any thing like
a change of conduct would imply a very unhappy change of principle,
and a forgetfulness, as well of what we owe to ourselves,
as to our country. Did I suppose it possible this could be the
case even in a single regiment of the army, I should be mortified
and chagrined beyond expression. I should feel it as a wound
454given to my own honor, which I consider as embarked with that
of the army at large.
“But the gentlemen,” adds he, “cannot be in earnest; they
cannot seriously intend any thing that would be a stain on their
former reputation. They have only reasoned wrong about the
means of obtaining a good end; and on consideration, I hope and
flatter myself, they will renounce what must appear to be improper.
At the opening of a campaign, when under marching
orders for an important service, their own honor, duty to the
public and to themselves, and a regard to military propriety,
will not suffer them to persist in a measure which would be a
violation of them all. It will even wound their delicacy, coolly
to reflect that they have hazarded a step which has an air of
dictating to their country, by taking advantage of the necessity
of the moment; for the declaration they have made to the State,
at so critical a time, that unless they obtain relief in the short
period of three days, they must be considered out of the service,
has very much that aspect.”
These and other observations of similar purport, were contained
in a letter to General Maxwell, their commander, to be
laid before the officers. It produced a respectful reply, but one
which intimated no disposition to swerve from their determination.
After reiterating their grievances, “we are sorry,” added
they, “that you should imagine we meant to disobey orders. It
was and is still our determination to march with our regiment,
and to do the duty of officers until the Legislature shall have a
reasonable time to appoint others, but no longer. We beg leave
to assure your Excellency, that we have the highest sense of your
ability and virtues; that executing your orders has ever given us
pleasure; that we love the service, and love our country;—but
455when that country gets so lost to virtue and justice, as to forget
to support its servants, it then becomes their duty to retire from
its service.”
A commander of less magnanimity than Washington, would
have answered this letter by a stern exercise of military rule,
and driven the really aggrieved parties to extremity. He nobly
contented himself with the following comment on it, forming a
paragraph of a letter to General Maxwell. “I am sorry the
gentlemen persist in the principles which dictated the step they
have taken; as, the more the affair unfolds itself, the more reason
I see to disapprove it. But in the present view they have
of the matter, and with their present feelings, it is not probable
any new argument that could be offered would have more influence
than the former. While, therefore, the gentlemen continue
in the execution of their duty, as they declare themselves heartily
disposed to do, I shall only regret that they have taken a step
of which they must hereafter see the impropriety.”
The Legislature of New Jersey imitated the forbearance of
Washington. Compounding with their pride, they let the officers
know that on their withdrawing the memorial, the subject
matter of it would be promptly attended to. It was withdrawn.
Resolutions were immediately passed, granting pecuniary supplies
to both officers and soldiers. The money was forthwith forwarded
to camp, and the brigade marched.
Such was the paternal spirit exercised by Washington, in all
the difficulties and discontents of the army. How clearly he
understood the genius and circumstances of the people he was
called upon to manage; and how truly was he their protector
even more than their commander!
We shall briefly dispose of the Indian campaign. The first
456act was an expedition from Fort Schuyler by Colonel Van
Schaick, Lieutenant-colonel Willett, and Major Cochran, with
about six hundred men, who, on the 19th of April, surprised the
towns of the Onondagas; destroyed the whole settlement, and
returned to the fort without the loss of a single man.
The great expedition of the campaign, however, was in
revenge of the massacre of Wyoming. Early in the summer,
three thousand men assembled in that lately desolated region,
and, conducted by General Sullivan, moved up the west branch
of the Susquehanna into the Seneca country. While on the way,
they were joined by a part of the western army, under General
James Clinton, who had come from the valley of the Mohawk by
Otsego lake and the east branch of the Susquehanna. The
united forces amounted to about five thousand men, of which
Sullivan had the general command.
The Indians, and their allies the tories, had received information
of the intended invasion, and appeared in arms to oppose it.
They were much inferior in force, however, being about fifteen
hundred Indians and two hundred white men, commanded by the
two Butlers, Johnson, and Brant. A battle took place at Newtown
on the 29th of August, in which they were easily defeated.
Sullivan then pushed forward into the heart of the Indian
country, penetrating as far as the Genesee River, laying every
thing waste, setting fire to deserted dwellings, destroying cornfields,
orchards, gardens, every thing that could give sustenance
to man, the design being to starve the Indians out of the country.
The latter retreated before him with their families, and at length
took refuge under the protection of the British garrison at Niagara.
Having completed his errand, Sullivan returned to Easton
in Pennsylvania. The thanks of Congress were voted to him and
457his army, but he shortly afterward resigned his commission on
account of ill health, and retired from the service.
A similar expedition was undertaken by Colonel Brodhead,
from Pittsburg up the Allegany, against the Mingo, Muncey, and
Seneca tribes, with similar results. The wisdom of Washington’s
policy of carrying the war against the Indians into their country,
and conducting it in their own way, was apparent from the general
intimidation produced among the tribes by these expeditions,
and the subsequent infrequency of their murderous incursions;
the instigation of which by the British, had been the most inhuman
feature of this war.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
458
PREDATORY WARFARE OF THE ENEMY—RAVAGES IN THE CHESAPEAKE—HOSTILITIES
ON THE HUDSON—VERPLANCK’S POINT AND STONY POINT TAKEN—CAPTURE
OF NEW HAVEN—FAIRFIELD AND NORWALK DESTROYED—WASHINGTON
PLANS A COUNTER STROKE—STORMING OF STONY POINT—GENEROUS
LETTER OF LEE.
The situation of Sir Henry Clinton must have been mortifying
in the extreme to an officer of lofty ambition and generous aims.
His force, between sixteen and seventeen thousand strong, was
superior in number, discipline, and equipment to that of Washington;
yet his instructions confined him to a predatory warfare
carried on by attacks and marauds at distant points, harassing, it
is true, yet irritating to the country intended to be conciliated,
and brutalizing to his own soldiery. Such was the nature of an
expedition set on foot against the commerce of the Chesapeake;
by which commerce the armies were supplied and the credit of
the government sustained. On the 9th of May, a squadron
under Sir George Collier, convoying transports and galleys, with
twenty-five hundred men, commanded by General Mathews, entered
these waters, took possession of Portsmouth without opposition,
sent out armed parties against Norfolk, Suffolk, Gosport,
Kemp’s Landing, and other neighboring places, where were
459immense quantities of provisions, naval and military stores, and
merchandise of all kinds; with numerous vessels, some on the
stocks, others richly laden. Wherever they went, a scene of
plunder, conflagration, and destruction ensued. A few days
sufficed to ravage the whole neighborhood.
While this was going on at the South, Washington received
intelligence of movements at New York and in its vicinity, which
made him apprehend an expedition against the Highlands of the
Hudson.
Since the loss of Forts Montgomery and Clinton, the main
defences of the Highlands had been established at the sudden
bend of the river where it winds between West Point and
Constitution Island. Two opposite forts commanded this bend,
and an iron chain which was stretched across it.
Washington had projected two works also just below the
Highlands, at Stony Point and Verplanck’s Point, to serve as
outworks of the mountain passes, and to protect King’s Ferry,
the most direct and convenient communication between the
Northern and Middle States.
A small but strong fort had been erected on Verplanck’s
Point, and was garrisoned by seventy men under Captain Armstrong.
A more important work was in progress at Stony Point.
When completed, these two forts, on opposite promontories,
would form as it were the lower gates of the Highlands; miniature
Pillars of Hercules, of which Stony Point was the Gibraltar.
To be at hand in case of any real attempt upon the Highlands,
Washington drew up with his forces in that direction;
moving by the way of Morristown.
An expedition up the Hudson was really the object of Sir
460Henry Clinton’s movements, and for this he was strengthened by
the return of Sir George Collier with his marauding ships and
forces from Virginia. On the 30th of May, Sir Henry set out
on his second grand cruise up the Hudson, with an armament of
about seventy sail, great and small, and one hundred and fifty flat
boats. Admiral Sir George Collier commanded the armament,
and there was a land force of about five thousand men under
General Vaughan.
The first aim of Sir Henry was to get possession of Stony
and Verplanck’s Points; his former expedition had acquainted
him with the importance of this pass of the river. On the morning
of the 31st, the forces were landed in two divisions, the
largest under General Vaughan, on the east side of the river,
about seven or eight miles below Verplanck’s Point; the other,
commanded by Sir Henry in person, landed in Haverstraw Bay,
about three miles below Stony Point. There were but about
thirty men in the unfinished fort; they abandoned it on the
approach of the enemy, and retreated into the Highlands, having
first set fire to the block-house. The British took quiet possession
of the fort in the evening; dragged up cannon and mortars in
the night, and at daybreak opened a furious fire upon Fort
Lafayette. It was cannonaded at the same time by the armed
vessels, and a demonstration was made on it by the division under
General Vaughan. Thus surrounded, the little garrison of
seventy men was forced to surrender, with no other stipulation
than safety to their persons and to the property they had in the
fort. Major André was aide-de-camp to Sir Henry, and signed
the articles of capitulation.
Sir Henry Clinton stationed garrisons in both posts, and set
to work with great activity to complete the fortification of Stony
461Point. His troops remained for several days in two divisions on
the opposite sides of the river; the fleet generally fell down a
little below King’s Ferry; some of the square-rigged vessels, however,
with others of a smaller size, and flat-bottomed boats, having
troops on board, dropped down Haverstraw Bay, and finally
disappeared behind the promontories which advance across the
upper part of the Tappan Sea.
Some of the movements of the enemy perplexed Washington
exceedingly. He presumed, however, that the main object of Sir
Henry was to get possession of West Point, the guardian fortress
of the river, and that the capture of Stony and Verplanck’s
Points were preparatory steps. He would fain have dislodged
him from these posts, which cut off all communication by the way
of King’s Ferry, but they were too strong; he had not the force
nor military apparatus necessary. Deferring any attempt on
them for the present, he took measures for the protection of
West Point. Leaving General Putnam and the main body of
the army at Smith’s Clove, a mountain pass in the rear of
Haverstraw, he removed his head-quarters to New Windsor, to
be near West Point in case of need, and to press the completion
of its works. General McDougall was transferred to the command
of the Point. Three brigades were stationed at different
places on the opposite side of the river, under General Heath,
from which fatigue parties crossed daily to work on the fortifications.
This strong disposition of the American forces checked Sir
Henry’s designs against the Highlands. Contenting himself,
therefore, for the present, with the acquisition of Stony and Verplanck’s
Points, he returned to New York; where he soon set on
foot a desolating expedition along the seaboard of Connecticut.
462That State, while it furnished the American armies with provisions
and recruits, and infested the sea with privateers, had
hitherto experienced nothing of the horrors of war within its
borders. Sir Henry, in compliance with his instructions from
government, was now about to give it a scourging lesson; and he
entertained the hope that, in so doing, he might draw down
Washington from his mountain fastnesses, and lay open the Hudson
to a successful incursion.
General (late Governor) Tryon, was the officer selected by Sir
Henry for this inglorious, but apparently congenial service.
About the beginning of July he embarked with two thousand six
hundred men, in a fleet of transports and tenders, and was
convoyed up the Sound by Sir George Collier with two ships of
war.
On the 5th of July, the troops landed near New Haven, in
two divisions, one led by Tryon, the other by Brigadier-general
Garth, his lieutenant. They came upon the neighborhood by
surprise; yet the militia assembled in haste, and made a resolute
though ineffectual opposition. The British captured the town,
dismantled the fort, and took or destroyed all the vessels in the
harbor; with all the artillery, ammunition, and public stores.
Several private houses were plundered; but this, it was said, was
done by the soldiery contrary to orders. The enemy, in fact,
claimed great credit for lenity in refraining from universal sackage,
considering the opposition they had experienced while on the
march, and that some of the inhabitants of the town had fired
upon them from the windows.
They next proceeded to Fairfield; where, meeting with
greater resistance, they thought the moment arrived for a wholesome
example of severity. Accordingly, they not merely ravaged
463and destroyed the public stores and the vessels in the harbor, but
laid the town itself in ashes. The exact return of this salutary
lesson gives the destruction of ninety-seven dwelling-houses, sixty-seven
barns and stables, forty-eight storehouses, three places of
worship, a court house, a jail, and two school-houses.
The sight of their homes laid desolate, and their dwellings
wrapped in flames, only served to exasperate the inhabitants, and
produce a more determined opposition to the progress of the
destroyers; whereupon the ruthless ravage of the latter increased
as they advanced.
At Norwalk, where they landed on the 11th of July, they
burnt one hundred and thirty dwelling-houses, eighty-seven
barns, twenty-two storehouses, seventeen shops, four mills, two
places of worship, and five vessels which were in the harbor.
All this was private property, and the loss fell on individuals
engaged in the ordinary occupations of life. These
acts of devastation were accompanied by atrocities, inevitable
where the brutal passions of the soldiery are aroused. They were
unprovoked, too, by any unusual acts of hostility, the militia
having no time to assemble, excepting in small parties for the
defence of their homes and firesides. The loss of the British
throughout the whole expedition amounted, according to their
own accounts, to twenty killed, ninety-six wounded, and thirty-two
missing.
It was intended to crown this grand ravage by a descent on
New London, a noted rendezvous of privateers; but as greater
opposition was expected there than at either of the other places
the squadron returned to Huntington Bay, on Long Island, to
await reinforcements; and Commodore Collier proceeded to
464Throg’s Neck, to confer with Sir Henry Clinton about further
operations.
In this conference Sir Henry was assured that the recent
expedition was producing the most salutary effects; that the principal
inhabitants were incensed at the apathy of Washington in
remaining encamped near the Hudson, while their country was
ravaged and their homes laid in ashes; that they complained
equally of Congress, and talked of withdrawing from it their allegiance,
and making terms with the British commanders for themselves;
finally, it was urged that the proposed expedition against
New London would carry these salutary effects still further, and
confirm the inhabitants in the sentiments they were beginning to
express.
Such were the delusive representations continually made to
the British commanders in the course of this war; or rather, such
were the delusions in which they themselves indulged, and which
led them to the commission of acts calculated to rend still further
asunder the kindred countries.
Washington, however, was not culpable of the apathy ascribed
to him. On hearing of the departure of the expedition to the
eastward, and before he was acquainted with its definite object,
he detached General Heath, with two brigades of Connecticut
militia, to counteract the movements of the enemy. This was
all that he could spare from the force stationed for the protection
of the Highlands. Any weakening of his posts there might bring
the enemy suddenly upon him, such was their facility in moving
from one place to another by means of their shipping. Indeed,
he had divined that a scheme of the kind was at the bottom of
the hostile movement to the eastward.
As a kind of counter-check to Sir Henry, he had for some
465days been planning the recapture of Stony Point and Fort Lafayette.
He had reconnoitred them in person; spies had been
thrown into them, and information collected from deserters.
Stony Point having been recently strengthened by the British
was now the most important. It was a rocky promontory advancing
far into the Hudson, which washed three sides of it. A
deep morass, covered at high water, separated it from the main
land, but at low tide might be traversed by a narrow causeway
and bridge. The promontory was crowned by strong works, furnished
with heavy ordnance, commanding the morass and causeway.
Lower down were two rows of abatis, and the shore at the
foot of the hill could be swept by vessels of war anchored in the
river. The garrison was about six hundred strong, commanded
by Lieutenant-colonel Johnson.
To attempt the surprisal of this isolated post, thus strongly
fortified, was a perilous enterprise. General Wayne, Mad Anthony
as he was called from his daring valor, was the officer to
whom Washington proposed it, and he engaged in it with avidity.[148]
According to Washington’s plan, it was to be attempted
by light-infantry only, at night, and with the utmost secrecy,
securing every person they met to prevent discovery. Between
one and two hundred chosen men and officers were to make the
surprise; preceded by a vanguard of prudent, determined men,
well commanded, to remove obstructions, secure sentries, and
drive in the guards. The whole were to advance with fixed
bayonets and unloaded muskets; all was to be done with the bayonet.
These parties were to be followed by the main body, at a
466small distance, to support and reinforce them, or to bring them
off in case of failure. All were to wear white cockades or feathers,
and to have a watchword, so as to be distinguished from the
enemy. “The usual time for exploits of this kind,” observes
Washington, “is a little before day, for which reason a vigilant
officer is then more on the watch. I therefore recommend a
midnight hour.”
On getting possession of Stony Point, Wayne was to turn its
guns upon Fort Lafayette and the shipping. A detachment was
to march down from West Point by Peekskill, to the vicinity of
Fort Lafayette, and hold itself ready to join in the attack upon
it, as soon as the cannonade began from Stony Point.
On the 15th of July, about mid-day, Wayne set out with his
light-infantry from Sandy Beach, fourteen miles distant from
Stony Point. The roads were rugged, across mountains, morasses,
and narrow defiles, in the skirts of the Dunderberg, where
frequently it was necessary to proceed in single file. About eight
in the evening, they arrived within a mile and a half of the forts,
without being discovered. Not a dog barked to give the alarm—all
the dogs in the neighborhood had been privately destroyed
beforehand. Bringing the men to a halt, Wayne and his principal
officers went nearer, and carefully reconnoitred the works
and their environs, so as to proceed understandingly and without
confusion. Having made their observations they returned to the
troops. Midnight, it will be recollected, was the time recommended
by Washington for the attack. About half-past eleven, the
whole moved forward, guided by a negro of the neighborhood
who had frequently carried in fruit to the garrison, and served
the Americans as a spy. He led the way, accompanied by two
stout men disguised as farmers. The countersign was given to
467the first sentinel, posted on high ground west of the morass.
While the negro talked with him, the men seized and gagged
him. The sentinel posted at the head of the causeway was
served in the same manner; so that hitherto no alarm was given.
The causeway, however, was overflowed, and it was some time
after twelve o’clock before the troops could cross; leaving three
hundred men under General Muhlenberg, on the western side of
the morass, as a reserve.
At the foot of the promontory, the troops were divided into
two columns, for simultaneous attacks on opposite sides of the
works. One hundred and fifty volunteers, led by Lieutenant-colonel
Fleury, seconded by Major Posey, formed the vanguard
of the right column. One hundred volunteers under Major
Stewart, the vanguard of the left. In advance of each was a forlorn
hope of twenty men, one led by Lieutenant Gibbon, the
other by Lieutenant Knox; it was their desperate duty to remove
the abatis. So well had the whole affair been conducted, that
the Americans were close upon the outworks before they were
discovered. There was then severe skirmishing at the pickets.
The Americans used the bayonet; the others discharged their
muskets. The reports roused the garrison. Stony Point was
instantly in an uproar. The drums beat to arms; every one hurried
to his alarm post; the works were hastily manned, and a
tremendous fire of grape shot and musketry opened upon the
assailants.
The two columns forced their way with the bayonet, at opposite
points, surmounting every obstacle. Colonel Fleury was the
first to enter the fort and strike the British flag. Major Posey
sprang to the ramparts and shouted, “The fort is our own.”
Wayne, who led the right column, received at the inner abatis a
468contusion on the head from a musket ball, and would have fallen
to the ground, but his two aides-de-camp supported him. Thinking
it was a death wound, “Carry me into the fort,” said he,
“and let me die at the head of my column.” He was borne in
between his aides, and soon recovered his self-possession. The
two columns arrived nearly at the same time, and met in the
centre of the works. The garrison surrendered at discretion.
At daybreak, as Washington directed, the guns of the fort
were turned on Fort Lafayette and the shipping. The latter cut
their cables and dropped down the river. Through a series of
blunders, the detachment from West Point, which was to have
co-operated, did not arrive in time, and came unprovided with
suitable ammunition for their battering artillery. This part of
the enterprise, therefore, failed; Fort Lafayette held out.
The storming of Stony Point stands out in high relief, as one
of the most brilliant achievements of the war. The Americans
had effected it without firing a musket. On their part, it was
the silent, deadly work of the bayonet; the fierce resistance they
met at the outset may be judged by the havoc made in their forlorn
hope; out of twenty-two men, seventeen were either killed
or wounded. The whole loss of the Americans was fifteen killed
and eighty-three wounded. Of the garrison, sixty-three were
slain, including two officers; five hundred and fifty-three were
taken prisoners, among whom were a lieutenant-colonel, four captains,
and twenty-three subaltern officers.
Wayne, in his despatches, writes: “The humanity of our
brave soldiery, who scorned to take the lives of a vanquished foe
when calling for mercy, reflects the highest honor on them, and
accounts for the few of the enemy killed on the occasion.” His
words reflect honor on himself.
469A British historian confirms his eulogy. “The conduct of
the Americans upon this occasion was highly meritorious,” writes
he; “for they would have been fully justified in putting the garrison
to the sword; not one man of which was put to death but
in fair combat.”[149]
We are happy to record an instance of generous feeling on the
part of General Charles Lee, in connection with Stony Point.
When he heard of Wayne’s achievement, he wrote to him as follows:
“What I am going to say, you will not, I hope, consider
as paying my court in this hour of your glory; for, as it is at
least my present intention to leave this continent, I can have no
interest in paying my court to any individual. What I shall say
therefore, is dictated by the genuine feelings of my heart. I do
most sincerely declare, that your assault of Stony Point is not
only the most brilliant, in my opinion, throughout the whole
course of the war on either side, but that it is the most brilliant
I am acquainted with in history; the assault of Schweidnitz by
Marshal Laudon, I think inferior to it. I wish you, therefore,
most sincerely, joy of the laurels you have deservedly acquired,
and that you may long live to wear them.”
This is the more magnanimous on the part of Lee, as Wayne
had been the chief witness against him in the court-martial after
the affair of Monmouth, greatly to his annoyance. While Stony
Point, therefore, stands a lasting monument of the daring courage
of “Mad Anthony,” let it call up the remembrance of this freak
of generosity on the part of the eccentric Lee.
Tidings of the capture of Stony Point, and the imminent
danger of Fort Lafayette, reached Sir Henry Clinton just after
his conference with Sir George Collier at Throg’s Neck. The
470expedition against New London was instantly given up; the
transports and troops were recalled; a forced march was made to
Dobbs’ Ferry on the Hudson; a detachment was sent up the
river in transports to relieve Fort Lafayette, and Sir Henry followed
with a greater force, hoping Washington might quit his
fastnesses, and risk a battle for the possession of Stony Point.
Again the Fabian policy of the American commander-in-chief
disappointed the British general. Having well examined the
post in company with an engineer and several general officers, he
found that at least fifteen hundred men would be required to
maintain it, a number not to be spared from the army at present.
The works, too, were only calculated for defence on the land
side, and were open towards the river, where the enemy depended
upon protection from their ships. It would be necessary to construct
them anew, with great labor. The army, also, would have
to be in the vicinity, too distant from West Point to aid in completing
or defending its fortifications, and exposed to the risk of
a general action on unfavorable terms.
For these considerations, in which all his officers concurred,
Washington evacuated the post on the 18th, removing the cannon
and stores, and destroying the works; after which he drew his
forces together in the Highlands, and established his quarters at
West Point, not knowing but that Sir Henry might attempt a
retaliatory stroke on that most important fortress. The latter
retook possession of Stony Point, and fortified and garrisoned it
more strongly than ever, but was too wary to risk an attempt
upon the strongholds of the Highlands. Finding Washington
was not to be tempted out of them, he ordered the transports to
fall once more down the river, and returned to his former encampment
at Philipsburg.
CHAPTER XL.
471
EXPEDITION AGAINST PENOBSCOT—NIGHT SURPRISAL OF PAULUS HOOK—WASHINGTON
FORTIFIES WEST POINT—HIS STYLE OF LIVING THERE—TABLE AT
HEAD-QUARTERS—SIR HENRY CLINTON REINFORCED—ARRIVAL OF D’ESTAING
ON THE COAST OF GEORGIA—PLANS IN CONSEQUENCE—THE FRENCH MINISTER
AT WASHINGTON’S HIGHLAND CAMP—LETTER TO LAFAYETTE—D’ESTAING
CO-OPERATES WITH LINCOLN—REPULSED AT SAVANNAH—WASHINGTON
REINFORCES LINCOLN—GOES INTO WINTER-QUARTERS—SIR HENRY
CLINTON SENDS AN EXPEDITION TO THE SOUTH.
The brilliant affair of the storming of Stony Point, was somewhat
overshadowed by the result of an enterprise at the eastward,
undertaken without consulting Washington. A British
detachment from Halifax of seven or eight hundred men, had
founded in June a military post on the eastern side of the Bay
of Penobscot, nine miles below the river of that name, and were
erecting a fort there, intended to protect Nova Scotia, control
the frontiers of Massachusetts, and command the vast wooded
regions of Maine; whence inexhaustible supplies of timber might
be procured for the royal shipyards at Halifax and elsewhere.
The people of Boston, roused by this movement, which invaded
their territory, and touched their pride and interests, undertook,
on their own responsibility, a naval and military expedition
intended to drive off the invaders. All Boston was in a military
472bustle, enrolling militia and volunteers. An embargo of
forty days was laid on the shipping, to facilitate the equipment
of the naval armament; a squadron of armed ships and brigantines
under Commodore Saltonstall, at length put to sea, convoying
transports, on board of which were near four thousand
land troops under General Lovel.
Arriving in the Penobscot on the 25th of May, they found
Colonel Maclean posted on a peninsula, steep and precipitous
toward the bay, and deeply trenched on the land side, with three
ships of war anchored before it.
Lovel was repulsed, with some little loss, in an attempt to
effect a landing on the peninsula; but finally succeeded before
daybreak on the 28th. The moment was propitious for a bold
and vigorous blow. The fort was but half finished; the guns
were not mounted; the three armed vessels could not have offered
a formidable resistance; but, unfortunately, the energy of a
Wayne was wanting to the enterprise. Lovel proceeded by regular
siege. He threw up works at seven hundred and fifty yards
distance, and opened a cannonade, which was continued from day
to day, for a fortnight. The enemy availed themselves of the
delay to strengthen their works, in which they were aided by
men from the ships. Distrustful of the efficiency of the militia
and of their continuance in camp, Lovel sent to Boston for a
reinforcement of Continental troops. He only awaited their
arrival to carry the place by storm. A golden opportunity was
lost by this excess of caution. It gave time for Admiral Collier
at New York to hear of this enterprise, and take measures
for its defeat.
On the 13th of August, Lovel was astounded by intelligence
that the admiral was arrived before the bay with a superior armament.
473Thus fairly entrapped, he endeavored to extricate his
force with as little loss as possible. Before news of Collier’s
arrival could reach the fort, he re-embarked his troops in the
transports to make their escape up the river. His armed vessels
were drawn up in a crescent as if to give battle, but it was merely
to hold the enemy in check. They soon gave way; some
were captured, others were set on fire or blown up, and abandoned
by their crews. The transports being eagerly pursued and
in great danger of being taken, disgorged the troops and seamen
on the wild shores of the river: whence they had to make the
best of their way to Boston, struggling for upwards of a hundred
miles through a pathless wilderness, before they reached
the settled parts of the country; and several of them perishing
through hunger and exhaustion.
If Washington was chagrined by the signal failure of this
expedition, undertaken without his advice, he was cheered by the
better fortune of one set on foot about the same time, under his
own eye, by his young friend, Major Henry Lee of the Virginia
dragoons. This active and daring officer had frequently been
employed by him in scouring the country on the west side of the
Hudson to collect information; keep an eye upon the enemy’s
posts; cut off their supplies, and check their foraging parties.
The coup de main at Stony Point had piqued his emulation. In
his communications to head-quarters he intimated that an opportunity
presented for an exploit of almost equal daring. In the
course of his reconnoitring, and by means of spies, he had discovered
that the British post at Paulus Hook, immediately opposite
to New York, was very negligently guarded. Paulus Hook is a
long low point of the Jersey shore, stretching into the Hudson,
and connected to the main land by a sandy isthmus. A fort
474had been erected on it, and garrisoned with four or five hundred
men, under the command of Major Sutherland. It was a strong
position. A creek fordable only in two places rendered the hook
difficult of access. Within this, a deep trench had been cut
across the isthmus, traversed by a drawbridge with a barred
gate; and still within this was a double row of abatis, extending
into the water. The whole position, with the country immediately
adjacent, was separated from the rest of Jersey by the Hackensack
River, running parallel to the Hudson, at the distance of a
very few miles, and only traversable in boats, excepting at the
New Bridge, about fourteen miles from Paulus Hook.
Confident in the strength of his position, and its distance from
any American force, Major Sutherland had become remiss in his
military precautions; the want of vigilance in a commander soon
produces carelessness in subalterns, and a general negligence prevailed
in the garrison.
All this had been ascertained by Major Lee; and he now
proposed the daring project of surprising the fort at night, and
thus striking an insulting blow “within cannon shot of New
York.” Washington was pleased with the project; he had a
relish for signal enterprises of the kind; he was aware of their
striking and salutary effect upon both friend and foe; and he was
disposed to favor the adventurous schemes of this young officer.
The chief danger in the present one, would be in the evacuation
and retreat after the blow had been effected, owing to the proximity
of the enemy’s force at New York. In consenting to the
enterprise, therefore, he stipulated that Lee should not undertake
it unless sure, from previous observation, that the post could
be carried by instant surprise; when carried, no time was to be
lost in attempting to bring off cannon or any other articles; or in
475collecting stragglers of the garrison who might skulk and hide
themselves. He was “to surprise the post; bring off the garrison
immediately, and effect a retreat.”
On the 18th of August, Lee set out on the expedition, at the
head of three hundred men of Lord Stirling’s division, and a
troop of dismounted dragoons under Captain McLane. The
attack was to be made that night. Lest the enemy should hear
of their movement, it was given out that they were on a mere
foraging excursion. The road they took lay along that belt of
rocky and wooded heights which borders the Hudson, and forms
a rugged neck between it and the Hackensack. Lord Stirling
followed with five hundred men, and encamped at the New
Bridge on that river, to be at hand to render aid if required. As
it would be perilous to return along the rugged neck just mentioned,
from the number of the enemy encamped along the Hudson,
Lee, after striking the blow, was to push for Dow’s Ferry on
the Hackensack, not far from Paulus Hook, where boats would
be waiting to receive him.
It was between two and three in the morning when Lee arrived
at the creek which rendered Paulus Hook difficult of access.
It happened, fortunately, that Major Sutherland, the British
commander, had, the day before, detached a foraging party
under a Major Buskirk, to a part of the country called the English
Neighborhood. As Lee and his men approached, they were
mistaken by the sentinel for this party on its return. The darkness
of the night favored the mistake. They passed the creek
and ditch, entered the works unmolested, and had made themselves
masters of the post before the negligent garrison were well
roused from sleep. Major Sutherland and about sixty Hessians
threw themselves into a small block-house on the left of the fort
476and opened an irregular fire. To attempt to dislodge them
would have cost too much time. Alarm guns from the ships
in the river and the forts at New York threatened speedy reinforcements
to the enemy. Having made one hundred and fiftynine
prisoners, among whom were three officers, Lee commenced
his retreat, without tarrying to destroy either barracks or artillery.
He had achieved his object: a coup de main of signal
audacity. Few of the enemy were slain, for there was but little
fighting, and no massacre. His own loss was two men killed and
three wounded.
His retreat was attended by perils and perplexities. Through
blunder or misapprehension, the boats which he was to have
found at Dow’s Ferry on the Hackensack, disappointed him; and
he had to make his way with his weary troops up the neck of
land between that river and the Hudson, in imminent danger of
being cut up by Buskirk and his scouting detachment. Fortunately
Lord Stirling heard of his peril, and sent out a force
to cover his retreat, which was effected in safety. Washington
felt the value of this hardy and brilliant exploit. “The increase
of confidence,” said he, “which the army will derive from this
affair and that of Stony Point, though great, will be among the
least of the advantages resulting from these events.” In a letter
to the President of Congress, he extolled the prudence, address,
enterprise, and bravery displayed on the occasion by Major Lee;
in consequence of which the latter received the signal reward of
a gold medal.
Washington was now at West Point, diligently providing
for the defence of the Highlands against any farther attempts of
the enemy. During the time that he made this his head-quarters,
the most important works, we are told, were completed,
477especially the fort at West Point, which formed the citadel of
those mountains.
Of his singularly isolated situation with respect to public
affairs, we have evidence in the following passage of a letter to
Edmund Randolph, who had recently taken his seat in Congress.
“I shall be happy in such communications as your
leisure and other considerations will permit you to transmit to
me, for I am as totally unacquainted with the political state of
things, and what is going forward in the great national council,
as if I was an alien; when a competent knowledge of the temper
and designs of our allies, from time to time, and the frequent
changes and complexion of affairs in Europe might, as they
ought to do, have a considerable influence on the operations of
our army, and would in many cases determine the propriety of
measures, which under a cloud of darkness can only be groped
at. I say this upon a presumption that Congress, either through
their own ministers or that of France, must be acquainted in some
degree with the plans of Great Britain, and the designs of France
and Spain. If I mistake in this conjecture, it is to be lamented
that they have not better information; or, if political motives
render disclosures of this kind improper, I am content to remain
in ignorance.”
Of the style of living at head-quarters, we have a picture in
the following letter to Doctor John Cochran, the surgeon-general
and physician of the army. It is almost the only instance of
sportive writing in all Washington’s correspondence.
“Dear Doctor:—I have asked Mrs. Cochran and Mrs.
Livingston to dine with me to-morrow; but am I not in honor
bound to apprise them of their fare? As I hate deception, even
478where the imagination only is concerned, I will. It is needless
to premise that my table is large enough to hold the ladies. Of
this they had ocular proof yesterday. To say how it is usually
covered is more essential; and this shall be the purport of my
letter.
“Since our arrival at this happy spot, we have had a ham,
sometimes a shoulder of bacon, to grace the head of the table: a
piece of roast beef adorns the foot; and a dish of beans or
greens, almost imperceptible, decorates the centre. When the
cook has a mind to cut a figure, which I presume will be the
case to-morrow, we have two beefsteak pies, or dishes of crabs,
in addition, one on each side of the centre dish, dividing the
space and reducing the distance between dish and dish to about
six feet, which, without them, would be about twelve feet apart.
Of late he has had the surprising sagacity to discover that
apples will make pies, and it is a question, if, in the violence of
his efforts, we do not get one of apples instead of having both of
beefsteaks. If the ladies can put up with such entertainment,
and will submit to partake of it on plates once tin but now iron
(not become so by the labor of scouring), I shall be happy to see
them.”
We may add, that, however poor the fare and poor the table
equipage at head-quarters, every thing was conducted with strict
etiquette and decorum, and we make no doubt the ladies in question
were handed in with as much courtesy to the bacon and
greens and tin dishes, as though they were to be regaled with the
daintiest viands, served up on enamelled plate and porcelain.
The arrival of Admiral Arbuthnot, with a fleet, bringing
three thousand troops and a supply of provisions and stores,
479strengthened the hands of Sir Henry Clinton. Still he had not
sufficient force to warrant any further attempt up the Hudson,
Washington, by his diligence in fortifying West Point, having
rendered that fastness of the Highlands apparently impregnable.
Sir Henry turned his thoughts, therefore, towards the South,
hoping, by a successful expedition in that direction, to counterbalance
ill success in other quarters. As this would require
large detachments, he threw up additional works on New York
Island and at Brooklyn, to render his position secure with the
diminished force that would remain with him.
At this juncture news was received of the arrival of the
Count D’Estaing, with a formidable fleet on the coast of Georgia,
having made a successful cruise in the West Indies, in the course
of which he had taken St. Vincent’s and Granada. A combined
attack upon New York was again talked of. In anticipation of
it, Washington called upon several of the Middle States for supplies
of all kinds, and reinforcements of militia. Sir Henry
Clinton, also, changed his plans; caused Rhode Island to be
evacuated; the troops and stores to be brought away; the garrisons
brought off from Stony and Verplanck’s Points; and all his
forces to be concentrated at New York, which he endeavored to
put in the strongest posture of defence.
Intelligence recently received, too, that Spain had joined
France in hostilities against England, contributed to increase the
solicitude and perplexities of the enemy, while it gave fresh confidence
to the Americans.
The Chevalier de la Luzerne, minister from France, with
Mons. Barbé Marbois, his secretary of legation, having recently
landed at Boston, paid Washington a visit at his mountain fortress,
bringing letters of introduction from Lafayette. The
480chevalier not having yet announced himself to Congress, did not
choose to be received in his public character. “If he had,”
writes Washington, “except paying him military honors, it was
not my intention to depart from that plain and simple manner of
living, which accords with the real interest and policy of men
struggling under every difficulty for the attainment of the most
inestimable blessing of life, liberty.”
In conformity with this intention, he welcomed the chevalier
to the mountains with the thunder of artillery, and received
him at his fortress with military ceremonial; but very probably
surprised him with the stern simplicity of his table, while he
charmed him with the dignity and grace with which he presided
at it. The ambassador evidently acquitted himself with true
French suavity and diplomatic tact. “He was polite enough,”
writes Washington, “to approve my principle, and condescended
to appear pleased with our Spartan living. In a word, he made
us all exceedingly happy by his affability and good humor while
he remained in camp.”
The letters from Lafayette spoke of his favorable reception
at court, and his appointment to an honorable situation in the
French army. “I had no doubt,” writes Washington, “that
this would be the case. To hear it from yourself adds pleasure
to the account. And here, my dear friend, let me congratulate
you. None can do it with more warmth of affection, or sincere
joy than myself. Your forward zeal in the cause of liberty;
your singular attachment to this infant world; your ardent and
persevering efforts, not only in America, but since your return to
France, to serve the United States; your polite attention to
Americans, and your strict and uniform friendship for me, have
ripened the first impressions of esteem and attachment which I
481imbibed for you, into such perfect love and gratitude, as neither
time nor absence can impair. This will warrant my assuring
you that, whether in the character of an officer at the head of a
corps of gallant Frenchmen, if circumstances should require this,
whether as a major-general commanding a division of the American
army, or whether, after our swords and spears have given
place to the ploughshare and the pruning-hook, I see you as a
private gentleman, a friend and companion, I shall welcome you
with all the warmth of friendship to Columbia’s shores; and, in
the latter case, to my rural cottage, where homely fare and a
cordial reception, shall be substituted for delicacies and costly
living. This, from past experience, I know you can submit to;
and if the lovely partner of your happiness will consent to participate
with us in such rural entertainment and amusements, I
can undertake, on behalf of Mrs. Washington, that she will do
every thing in her power to make Virginia agreeable to the
marchioness. My inclination and endeavors to do this cannot be
doubted, when I assure you, that I love every body that is dear
to you, and consequently participate in the pleasure you feel in
the prospect of again becoming a parent, and do most sincerely
congratulate you and your lady on this fresh pledge she is about
to give you of her love.”
Washington’s anticipations of a combined operation with
D’Estaing against New York were again disappointed. The
French admiral, on arriving on the coast of Georgia, had been
persuaded to co-operate with the Southern army, under General
Lincoln, in an attempt to recover Savannah, which had fallen into
the hands of the British during the preceding year. For three
weeks a siege was carried on with great vigor, by regular
approaches on land, and cannonade and bombardment from the
482shipping. On the 9th of October, although the approaches were
not complete, and no sufficient breach had been effected, Lincoln
and D’Estaing, at the head of their choicest troops, advanced
before daybreak to storm the works The assault was gallant
but unsuccessful; both Americans and French had planted their
standards on the redoubts, but were finally repulsed. After the
repulse, both armies retired from before the place, the French having
lost in killed and wounded upwards of six hundred men, the
Americans about four hundred. D’Estaing himself was among the
wounded, and the gallant Count Pulaski among the slain. The
loss of the enemy was trifling, being protected by their works.
The Americans recrossed the Savannah River into South
Carolina; the militia returned to their homes, and the French re-embarked.
The tidings of this reverse, which reached Washington late
in November, put an end to all prospect of co-operation from the
French fleet; a consequent change took place in all his plans.
The militia of New York and Massachusetts, recently assembled,
were disbanded, and arrangements were made for the winter.
The army was thrown into two divisions; one was to be stationed
under General Heath in the Highlands, for the protection of
West Point and the neighboring posts; the other and principal
division was to be hutted near Morristown, where Washington
was to have his head-quarters. The cavalry were to be sent to
Connecticut.
Understanding that Sir Henry Clinton was making preparations
at New York for a large embarkation of troops, and fearing
they might be destined against Georgia and Carolina, he resolved
to detach the greater part of his Southern troops for the protection
of those States; a provident resolution, in which he was confirmed
483by subsequent instructions from Congress. Accordingly,
the North Carolina brigade took up its march for Charleston in
November, and the whole of the Virginia line in December.
Notwithstanding the recent preparations at New York, the
ships remained in port, and the enemy held themselves in
collected force there. Doubts began to be entertained of some
furtive design nearer at hand, and measures were taken to protect
the army against an attack when in winter-quarters. Sir Henry,
however, was regulating his movements by those the French fleet
might make after the repulse at Savannah. Intelligence at
length arrived that it had been dispersed by a violent storm.
Count D’Estaing, with a part, had shaped his course for France;
the rest had proceeded to the West Indies.
Sir Henry now lost no time in carrying his plans into operation.
Leaving the garrison of New York under the command
of Lieutenant-general Knyphausen, he embarked several thousand
men, on board of transports, to be convoyed by five ships of the line
and several frigates under Admiral Arbuthnot, and
set sail on the 26th of December, accompanied by Lord Cornwallis,
on an expedition intended for the capture of Charleston
and the reduction of South Carolina.
2. “These rascals plunder all indiscriminately. If they see any thing they
like, they say, ‘Rebel good for Hesse-mans,’ and seize upon it for their own
use. They have no idea of the distinctions between Whig and Tory.”—Letter
of Hazard the Postmaster.
14. The reader may recollect that it was Commissary-general Trumbull who
wrote the letter to Gates calculated to inflame his jealousy against Schuyler,
when the question of command had risen between them. (See vol i. ch. 28.)
32. Letter to the President of Cong. 28th June, 1777.
33. Communicated to the author by the late Mrs. Hamilton.
Note.—A veteran officer of the Revolution used to speak in his old days of
the occasion on which he first saw Hamilton. It was during the memorable retreat
through the Jerseys. “I noticed,” said he, “a youth, a mere stripling, small,
slender, almost delicate in frame, marching beside a piece of artillery, with a
cocked hat pulled down over his eyes, apparently lost in thought, with his hand
resting on the cannon, and every now and then patting it as he mused, as if it
were a favorite horse, or a pet plaything.”
52. The sad story of Miss McCrea, like many other incidents of the Revolution,
has been related in such a variety of ways, and so wrought up by tradition,
that it is difficult now to get at the simple truth. Some of the above circumstances
were derived from a niece of Miss McCrea, whom the author met upwards
of fifty years ago, at her residence on the banks of the St. Lawrence.
A stone, with her name cut on it, still marks the grave of Miss McCrea near
the ruins of Fort Edward; and a tree is pointed out near which she was murdered.
Lieutenant Jones is said to have been completely broken in spirit by
the shock of her death. Procuring her scalp, with its long silken tresses, he
brooded over it in anguish, and preserved it as a sad, but precious relic. Disgusted
with the service, he threw up his commission, and retired to Canada;
never marrying, but living to be an old man; taciturn and melancholy, and
haunted by painful recollections.
53. Some of the particulars of this action were given to the author by a son
of Colonel Paris.
60. After General Gates had written his letter to Burgoyne, he called General
Lincoln and myself into his apartment, read it to us, and requested our opinion
of it, which we declined giving; but being pressed by him, with diffidence we
concurred in judgment, that he had been too personal; to which the old
gentleman replied with his characteristic bluntness, “By G—! I don’t believe
either of you can mend it:”—and thus the consultation terminated.—Wilkinson’s
Memoirs, vol. i. 231.
86. The statement here given is founded on the report made to General
Wilkinson by Major (afterward General) Dearborn. It varies from that of
Burgoyne.
88. “At the very time,” say the British historians, “that General Burgoyne
was receiving the most favorable conditions for himself and his ruined army,
the fine village or town of Esopus, at no very great distance, was reduced to
ashes, and not a house left standing.”
89. Briefe aus Neu England. Schlözer’s Briefwechsel.
90. Letter to the President of Cong. Sparks, v. 71.
91. Letter of Washington to the President of Congress. Letter of Sullivan
to the President of New Hampshire.
92. Letter to Col. Lamb in the Lamb Papers. N. Y. Hist. Soc., and quoted
in the Life of Lamb, p. 183.
100. Life of Talbot, by Henry T. Tuckerman, p. 31.
101. Governor Clinton and myself have been down to view the forts, and are
both of opinion that a boom, thrown across at Fort Constitution, and a battery
on each side of the river, would answer a much better purpose than at
Fort Montgomery, as the garrison would be reinforced by militia with more
expedition, and the ground much more definable (defendable?).—Putnam to
Washington, 7th Nov. 1777.—Sparks’ Cor. of the Rev. ii. 30.
120. The introduction to the letters states them to have been transmitted to
England by an officer serving in Delancey’s corps of loyalists, who gives the
following account of the way he came by them:—Among the prisoners at
Fort Lee, I espied a mulatto fellow, whom I thought I recollected, and who
confirmed my conjectures by gazing very earnestly at me. I asked him if he
knew me. At first, he was unwilling to own it; but when he was about to be
carried of, thinking, I suppose, that I might perhaps be of some service to him,
he came and told me that he was Billy, and the old servant of General Washington.
He had been left there on account of an indisposition which prevented
his attending his master. I asked him a great many questions, as you may
suppose; but found very little satisfaction in his answers. At last, however,
he told me that he had a small portmanteau of his master’s, of which, when
he found that he must be put into confinement, he entreated my care. It contained
only a few stockings and shirts; and I could see nothing worth my
care, except an almanack, in which he had kept a sort of a journal, or diary
of his proceedings since his first coming to New York; there were also two
letters from his lady, one from Mr. Custis, and some pretty long ones from a
Mr. Lund Washington. And in the same bundle with them, the first draughts,
or foul copies of answers to them. I read these with avidity; and being highly
entertained with them, have shown them to several of my friends, who all
agree with me, that he is a very different character from what they had supposed
him.
In commenting on the above, Washington observed that his mulatto man
Billy, had never been one moment in the power of the enemy, and that no part
of his baggage nor any of his attendants were captured during the whole course
of the war.—Letter to Timothy Pickering, Sparks, ix. 149.
121. Sparks’ Writings of Washington, vol. v. p. 300.
126. Bryan Fairfax continued to reside in Virginia until his death, which
happened in 1802, at seventy-five years of age. He became proprietor of
Belvoir and heir to the family title, but the latter he never assumed. During
the latter years of his life he was a clergyman of the Episcopal church.
127. Washington to the President of Cong. Sparks. v. 347.
128. On one occasion having exhausted all his German and French oaths, he
vociferated to his aide-de-camp, Major Walker, “Vien mon ami Walker—vien
mon bon ami. Sacra— G— dam de gaucherie of dese badauts—je ne
puis plus—I can curse dem no more.”—Carden, Anecdotes of the Am. War, p. 341.
129. Correspondence of the Revolution, vol. ii. p. 274.
130. Washington to Greene.—Writings of Washington, vol. vii. p. 152.
133. In the Gazette of that date the Conciliatory Bills were published by order
of Congress; as an instance of their reception by the public, we may mention
that in Rhode Island the populace burned them under the gallows.
148. It is a popular tradition, that when Washington proposed to Wayne the
storming of Stony Point, the reply was, “General, I’ll storm h—ll if you will
only plan it.”
