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Title: Life of George Washington, volume 2 of 5
Author: Washington Irving
Release date: September 3, 2025 [eBook #76805]
Language: English
Original publication: New York: G. P. Putnam, 1855
Credits: Richard Tonsing, Emmanuel Ackerman, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE OF GEORGE WASHINGTON, VOLUME 2 OF 5 ***
LIFE
OF
GEORGE WASHINGTON.
[Illustration: C.W. Peale. J.B. Forrest. Original in Possession of
G.W.P. Custis Esq. G. Washington _1772 Æt. 40._]
[Illustration: [Mount Vernon]]
LIFE
OF
GEORGE WASHINGTON.
BY
WASHINGTON IRVING.
VOL. II.
NEW YORK: G. P. PUTNAM.
1860.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855.
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.
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Washington takes command of the Armies—Sketch of General
Lee—Characters of the British Commanders, Howe, Clinton, and
Burgoyne—Survey of the Camps from Prospect Hill—The Camps
contrasted—Description of the Revolutionary Army—Rhode Island
Troops—Character of General Greene—Washington represents the
Deficiencies of the Army—His Apology for the Massachusetts
Troops—Governor Trumbull—Cragie House, Washington’s
Head-Quarters 1
CHAPTER II.
Questions of Military Rank—Popularity of Putnam—Arrangements at
Head-Quarters—Colonel Mifflin and John Trumbull, Aides-de
Camp—Joseph Reed, Washington’s Secretary and confidential
friend—Gates as Adjutant-General—Hazardous Situation of the
Army—Strengthening of the Defences—Efficiency of Putnam—Rapid
Changes—New Distribution of the Forces—Rigid Discipline—Lee and
his cane—His Idea as to Strong Battalions—Arrival of Rifle
Companies—Daniel Morgan and his Sharp Shooters—Washington
declines to detach Troops to distant points for their
Protection—His Reasons for so doing 12
CHAPTER III.
Washington’s Object in distressing Boston—Scarcity and Sickness in
the Town—A Startling Discovery—Scarcity of Powder in the
Camp—Its Perilous Situation—Economy of Ammunition—Correspondence
between Lee and Burgoyne—Correspondence between Washington and
Gage—The Dignity of the Patriot Army asserted 22
CHAPTER IV.
Dangers in the Interior—Machinations of the Johnson Family—Rivalry
of Ethan Allen and Benedict Arnold—Government Perplexities about
the Ticonderoga Capture—Measures to secure the Prize—Allen and
Arnold ambitious of further Laurels—Projects for the Invasion of
Canada—Ethan Allen and Seth Warner honored by Congress—Arnold
displaced by a Committee of Inquiry—His Indignation—News from
Canada—The Revolution to be extended into that
Province—Enlistment of Green Mountain Boys—Schuyler at
Ticonderoga—State of Affairs there—Election for Officers of the
Green Mountain Boys—Ethan Allen dismounted—Joins the Army as a
Volunteer—Preparations for the Invasion of Canada—General
Montgomery—Indian Chiefs at Cambridge—Council Fire—Plan for an
Expedition against Quebec—Departure of Troops from
Ticonderoga—Arrival at Isle aux Noix 32
CHAPTER V.
A Challenge declined—A Blow meditated—A cautious Council of
War—Preparations for the Quebec Expedition—Benedict Arnold the
Leader—Advice and Instructions—Departure—General Schuyler on the
Sorel—Reconnoitres St. Johns—Camp at Isle aux Noix—Illness of
Schuyler—Returns to Ticonderoga—Expedition of Montgomery against
St. Johns—Letter of Ethan Allen—His Dash against Montreal—Its
Catastrophe—A Hero in Irons—Correspondence of Washington with
Schuyler and Arnold—His Anxiety about them 49
CHAPTER VI.
British in Boston send out Cruisers—Depredations of Captain
Wallace along the Coast—Treason in the Camp—Arrest of Dr.
Church—His Trial and Fate—Conflagration of Falmouth—Irritation
throughout the Country—Fitting out of Vessels of War—Embarkation
of General Gage for England—Committee from Congress—Conferences
with Washington—Resolutions of Congress to carry on the
War—Return of Secretary Reed to Philadelphia 67
CHAPTER VII.
Measures of General Howe—Desecration of Churches—Three
Proclamations—Seizure of Tories—Want of Artillery—Henry Knox,
the Artillerist—His Mission to Ticonderoga—Re-enlistment of
Troops—Lack of Public Spirit—Comments of General Greene 77
CHAPTER VIII.
Affairs in Canada—Capture of Fort Chamblee—Siege of St.
Johns—Maclean and his Highlanders—Montgomery on the Treatment of
Ethan Allen—Repulse of Carleton—Capitulation of the Garrison of
St. Johns—Generous Conduct of Montgomery—Maclean re-embarks for
Quebec—Weary Struggle of Arnold through the Wilderness—Defection
of Colonel Enos—Arnold in the Valley of the Chandiere—His
Arrival opposite Quebec—Surrender of Montreal—Escape of
Carleton—Home sickness of the American Troops 88
CHAPTER IX.
Washington’s anticipations of Success at Quebec—His Eulogium of
Arnold—Schuyler and Montgomery talk of resigning—Expostulations
of Washington—Their Effect—Schuyler’s Conduct to a Captive Foe 95
CHAPTER X.
Difficulties in filling up the Army—The Connecticut Troops persist
in going Home—Their reception there—Timely Arrival of Spoils in
the Camp—Putnam and the Prize Mortar—A Maraud by
Americans—Rebuked by Washington—Correspondence of Washington
with General Howe about the treatment of Ethan Allen—Fraternal
zeal of Levi Allen—Treatment of General Prescott—Preparations to
Bombard Boston—Battery at Lechmere’s Point—Prayer of Putnam for
Powder 100
CHAPTER XI.
Mount Vernon in Danger—Mrs. Washington invited to the Camp—Lund
Washington, the General’s Agent—Terms on which he
serves—Instructed to keep up the Hospitality of the
House—Journey of Mrs. Washington to Camp—Her Equipage and
Liveries—Arrival at Camp—Domestic Affairs at
Head-Quarters—Gayeties in Camp—A Brawl between Round Jackets and
Rifle Shirts 110
CHAPTER XII.
Affairs in Canada—Arnold at Point Levi—Quebec reinforced—Crossing
of the St. Lawrence—Landing in Wolfe’s Cove—Arnold on the
Heights of Abraham—Cautious Counsel—Quebec aroused—The Invaders
baffled—Withdraw to Point aux Trembles—Booming of
Cannon—Carleton at Quebec—Letter of Washington to Arnold 118
CHAPTER XIII.
Lord Dunmore—His Plans of harassing Virginia—Lee’s Policy
respecting Tory Governors and Placemen—Rhode Island harassed by
Wallace and his Cruisers, and infested by Tories—Lee sent to its
Relief—His Vigorous Measures—The Army disbanding—Washington’s
Perplexities—Sympathy of General Greene—His Loyalty in time of
Trouble—The Crisis—Cheering News from Canada—Gloomy Opening of
the New Year—News from Colonel Knox 124
CHAPTER XIV.
Military Preparations in Boston—A Secret Expedition—Its
Object—Lee’s Plan for the Security of New York—Opinion of Adams
on the Subject—Instructions to Lee—Transactions of Lee in
Connecticut—Lee’s Policy in regard to the Tories—Uneasiness in
New York—Letter of the Committee of Safety to Lee—His Reply—His
Opinion of the People of Connecticut—Of the Hysterical Letter
from the New York Congress 138
CHAPTER XV.
Montgomery before Quebec—His Plan of Operations—A Summons to
Surrender—A Flag Insulted—The Town Besieged—Plan of an
Escalade—Attack of the Lower Town—Montgomery in the Advance—His
Death—Retreat of Colonel Campbell—Attack by Arnold—Defence of
the Lower Town—Arnold wounded—Retreat of the Americans—Gallant
Resolve of Arnold 141
CHAPTER XVI.
Correspondence of Washington and Schuyler on the disasters in
Canada—Reinforcements required from New England—Dangers in the
Interior of New York—Johnson Hall Beleaguered—Sir John
Capitulates—Generous Conduct of Schuyler—Governor Tryon and the
Tories—Tory Machinations—Lee at New York—Sir Henry Clinton in
the Harbor—Menaces of Lee—The City and River fortified—Lee’s
Treatment of the Tories—His Plans of Fortification—Ordered to
the Command in Canada—His Speculations on Titles of Dignity 153
CHAPTER XVII.
Monotonous State of Affairs before Boston—Washington anxious for
Action—Exploit of Putnam—Its Dramatic Consequences—The Farce of
the Blockade of Boston—An Alarming Interruption—Distresses of
the Besieged—Washington’s Irksome Predicament—His Bold
Proposition—Demur of the Council of War—Arrival of Knox with
Artillery—Dorchester Heights to be seized and
fortified—Preparations for the Attempt 164
CHAPTER XVIII.
The affair of Dorchester Heights—American and English Letters
respecting it—A Laborious Night—Revelations at Daybreak—Howe in
a Perplexity—A Night Attack meditated—Stormy Weather—The Town to
be evacuated—Negotiations and Arrangements—Preparations to
Embark—Excesses of the Troops—Boston Evacuated—Speech of the
Duke of Manchester on the subject—A Medal voted by Congress 171
CHAPTER XIX.
Destination of the Fleet—Commission of the two Howes—Character of
Lord Howe—The Colonies divided into Departments—Lee assigned to
the Southern Department—General Thomas to Canada—Character of
Lee, by Washington—Letters of Lee from the South—A Dog in a
Dancing School—Committee of Safety in Virginia—Lee’s
Grenadiers—Putnam in Command at New York—State of Affairs
there—Arrival of Washington—New Arrangements—Perplexities with
respect to Canada—England subsidizes Hessian Troops 186
CHAPTER XX.
Arnold blockades Quebec—His Difficulties—Arrival of General
Wooster—Of General Thomas—Abortive Attempt on
Quebec—Preparations for Retreat—Sortie of Carleton—Retreat of
the Americans—Halt at Point Deschambeault—Alarm in the Colonies
at the Retreat of the Army—Popular Clamor against
Schuyler—Slanders refuted 198
CHAPTER XXI.
Gates sent to Philadelphia with the Canada Despatches—Promoted to
the rank of Major-General—Washington Summoned to
Philadelphia—Putnam left in Command—Conference with
Congress—Army Arrangements—A Board of War instituted—The
Clintons of New York—Mrs. Washington Inoculated—Reed made
Adjutant-General 206
CHAPTER XXII.
Affairs in Canada—Disaster at the Cedars—Hostile Designs of the
Johnsons—A Bloody Summer expected—Forts in the Highlands—Colonel
James Clinton in Command—Fortifications at King’s Bridge and on
Long Island 212
CHAPTER XXIII.
Retreat of General Thomas—His Death—General Sullivan in
Command—Scene on the Sorel—Sanguine Expectations of
Sullivan—Washington’s Opinion of Sullivan’s Character—Gates
appointed to the Command in Canada—Reinforcements of the
Enemy—Reverses—Thompson Captured—Retreat of Sullivan—Close of
the Invasion of Canada 220
CHAPTER XXIV.
Designs of the Enemy against New York and the Hudson—Plot of Tryon
and the Tories—Arrival of a Fleet—Alarm Posts—Treachery up the
Hudson—Fresh Arrivals—General Howe at Staten Island—Washington’s
Preparations 228
CHAPTER XXV.
First Appearance of Alexander Hamilton—His Early Days—General Hugh
Mercer in command of the Flying Camp—Declaration of
Independence—Announced to the Army—Downfall of the King’s Statue 237
CHAPTER XXVI.
Arrival of more Ships—Movements of the Phœnix and the Rose—Panic
in the City—Hostile Ships up the Hudson—Stir of War along the
River—General George Clinton, and the Militia of Ulster
County—Fresh Agitation of New York—Arrival of Lord Howe 244
CHAPTER XXVII.
Precautions against Tories—Secret Committees—Declaration of Lord
Howe—His Letter to the Colonial Governors—His Letter to
Washington rejected—Interview between the British
Adjutant-General and Colonel Reed—Reception of the
Adjutant-General by Washington—The Phœnix and Rose in the Tappan
Sea, and Haverstraw Bay—Arming of the River Yeomanry—George
Clinton at the Gates of the Highlands 250
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Question of Command between Gates and Schuyler—Condition of the
Army at Crown Point—Discontent and Departure of
Sullivan—Fortifications at Ticonderoga—The Question of Command
adjusted—Secret Discontents—Sectional Jealousies in the
Army—Southern Troops—Smallwood’s Macaroni Battalion—Connecticut
Light-Horse 260
CHAPTER XXIX.
Southern Cruise of Sir Henry Clinton—Fortifications at
Charleston—Arrival there of General Lee—Battle at Sullivan’s
Island—Washington Announces the result to the Army 272
CHAPTER XXX.
Putnam’s Military Projects—Chevaux-de-frise at Fort
Washington—Meditated Attack on Staten Island—Arrival of
Ships—Hessian Reinforcements—Scotch Highlanders—Sir Henry
Clinton and Lord Cornwallis—Putnam’s Obstructions of the
Hudson—The Phœnix and Rose Attacked by Row Galleys at
Tarrytown—General Order of Washington on the subject of
Sectional Jealousies—Profane Swearing prohibited in the
Camp—Preparations against Attack—Levies of Yeomanry—George
Clinton in Command of the Levies along the Hudson—Alarms of the
People of New York—Benevolent Sympathy of Washington—The Phœnix
Grappled by a Fire-Ship—The Ships Evacuate the Hudson 279
CHAPTER XXXI.
The Battle of Long Island 291
CHAPTER XXXII.
The Retreat from Long Island 310
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Long Island in Possession of the Enemy—Distressed Situation of the
American Army at New York—Question of Abandoning the
City—Letters from either Camp—Enemy’s Ships in the Sound—Removal
of Women and Children from the City—Yearning for Home among the
Militia—Tolerant Ideas of Washington and Greene—Fort
Constitution—Conference of Lord Howe with a Committee from
Congress 318
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Movements of the Enemy—Councils of War—Question of the Abandonment
of the City—Distribution of the Army—Ships in the East River—The
Enemy at Hell Gate—Skirmish at Turtle Bay—Panic of the
Connecticut Militia—Rage and Personal Peril of
Washington—Putnam’s Perilous Retreat from the City—British
Regale at Murray Hill 328
CHAPTER XXXV.
Fortified Camp at King’s Bridge—American and British Lines—The
Morris House—Alexander Hamilton—The Enemy Advance—Successful
Skirmish—Death of Knowlton—Great Fire in New York—Reorganization
of the Army—Exchange of Prisoners—Daniel Morgan Regained—De
Lancey’s Tory Brigade—Robert Rogers, the Partisan—His
Rangers—The Roebuck, Phœnix, and Tartar in the Hudson—Military
Movements by Land and Water—Letter of John Jay 337
CHAPTER XXXVI.
Lee expected in Camp—His Letter of Advice to the President of
Congress—The Enemy at Throg’s Neck—Washington’s
Arrangements—Rides to Throg’s Neck—The Enemy brought to a
Stand—Military Movements—Arrival of Lee—A Command assigned to
Him—Criticises the Conduct of Congress and the Army—Council of
War—The Army to move to the Mainland—Fort Washington to be kept
up 354
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Army Arrangements—Washington at White Plains—The Enemy at Throg’s
Point—Skirmish of Colonel Glover—Attempt to Surprise Rogers, the
Renegade—Troopers in a rough country—Alarms at White
Plains—Cannonading of Ships at Fort Washington—March of
Lee—Fortified Camp at White Plains—Reconnoitring—The Affair at
Chatterton Hill—Relative Situation of the Armies—Change of
Position—Contrast of the Appearance of the Troops—George
Clinton’s Idea of Strategy—Movement of the British
Army—Incendiaries at White Plains 362
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
Conjectures as to the Intentions of the Enemy—Consequent
Precautions—Correspondence with Greene respecting Fort
Washington—Distribution of the Army—Lee left in Command at
Northcastle—Instructions to Him—Washington at Peekskill—Visits
to the Posts in the Highlands 376
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Affairs on Lake Champlain—Gates at Ticonderoga—Arnold’s
Flotilla—Military Preparations of Sir Guy Carleton at St.
John’s—Nautical Encounters—Gallant Conduct of Arnold and
Waterbury—Carleton in Possession of Crown Point—His return to
Canada and Winter Quarters 384
CHAPTER XL.
Washington Crosses the Hudson—Arrives at Fort Lee—Affairs at Fort
Washington—Question about its Abandonment—Movements of Howe—Tho
Fort summoned to Surrender—Refusal of Colonel McGaw—The Fort
Attacked—Capture of the Fort and Garrison—Comments of Washington
on the State of Affairs 392
CHAPTER XLI.
The Enemy Cross the Hudson—Retreat of the Garrison from Fort
Lee—The Crossing of the Hackensack—Lee Ordered to Move to the
West side of the River—Reed’s Letter to Him—Second Move of the
Army Beyond the Passaic—Assistance sought from various
quarters—Correspondence and Schemes of Lee—Heath stanch to his
Instructions—Anxiety of George Clinton for the Safety of the
Hudson—Critical Situation of the Army—Preparing Correspondence
between Lee and Reed—Washington Retreats across the
Raritan—Arrives at Trenton—Removes his Baggage across the
Delaware—Dismay and Despondency of the Country—Proclamation of
Lord Howe—Exultation of the Enemy—Washington’s Resolve in case
of Extremity 403
CHAPTER XLII.
Lee at Peekskill—Stanch Adherence of Heath to Orders—Lee Crosses
the Hudson—Washington at Trenton—Lee at the heels of the
Enemy—His Speculations on Military Greatness—Forced March of
Cornwallis—Washington Crosses the Delaware—Putnam in Command at
Philadelphia—Baffling Letters of Lee—Hopes to Reconquer the
Jerseys—Gates on the March—Lee Quartered at
Baskingridge—Surprised and Captured—Speculations on his Conduct 422
CHAPTER XLIII.
Washington Clothed with Additional Powers—Recruitment of the
Army—Increased Pay—Colonel John Cadwalader—Arrival of
Sullivan—Gates—Wilkinson—A Coup de Main Meditated—Posture of
Affairs at Trenton—Gates Declines to take a Part—His Comments on
Washington’s Plans—Preparations for the Coup de Main—Crossing of
the Delaware—Attack on the Enemy’s Forces at Trenton—Death of
Rail—His Character 438
CHAPTER XLIV.
Treatment of the Hessian Prisoners—Their Interviews with
Washington—Their Reception by the People 459
CHAPTER XLV.
Episode—Colonel Griffin in the Jerseys—Donop Decoyed—Inroad of
Cadwalader and Reed—Retreat and Confusion of the Enemy’s
Outposts—Washington Recrosses the Delaware with his Troops—The
Game Reversed—The Hessians Hunted back through the
Country—Washington made Military Dictator 463
CHAPTER XLVI.
Howe learns of the Affair at Trenton—Cornwallis sent back to the
Jerseys—Reconnoitering Expedition of Reed—His
Exploits—Washington in Peril at Trenton—Reinforced by Troops
under Cadwalader and Mifflin—Position of his Men—Cornwallis at
Trenton—Repulsed at the Assunpink—The American Camp
Menaced—Night March of Washington—Affair at Princeton—Death of
Mercer—Rout of British Troops—Pursued by Washington—Cornwallis
at Princeton—Baffled and Perplexed—Washington at Morristown—His
System of Annoyance—The Tables Turned upon the Enemy 470
LIFE OF WASHINGTON.
CHAPTER I.
WASHINGTON TAKES COMMAND OF THE ARMIES—SKETCH OF GENERAL LEE—CHARACTERS
OF THE BRITISH COMMANDERS, HOWE, CLINTON, AND BURGOYNE—SURVEY OF THE
CAMPS FROM PROSPECT HILL—THE CAMPS CONTRASTED—DESCRIPTION OF THE
REVOLUTIONARY ARMY—RHODE ISLAND TROOPS—CHARACTER OF GENERAL
GREENE—WASHINGTON REPRESENTS THE DEFICIENCIES OF THE ARMY—HIS APOLOGY
FOR THE MASSACHUSETTS TROOPS—GOVERNOR TRUMBULL—CRAGIE HOUSE,
WASHINGTON’S HEAD-QUARTERS.
On the 3d of July, the morning after his arrival at Cambridge,
Washington took formal command of the army. It was drawn up on the
Common about half a mile from head-quarters. A multitude had assembled
there, for as yet military spectacles were novelties, and the camp was
full of visitors, men, women, and children, from all parts of the
country, who had relatives among the yeoman soldiery.
An ancient elm is still pointed out, under which Washington, as he
arrived from head-quarters accompanied by General Lee and a numerous
suite, wheeled his horse, and drew his sword as commander-in-chief of
the armies. We have cited the poetical description of him furnished by
the pen of Mrs. Adams; we give her sketch of his military compeer—less
poetical, but no less graphic.
“General Lee looks like a careless, hardy veteran; and by his appearance
brought to my mind his namesake, Charles XII. of Sweden. The elegance of
his pen far exceeds that of his person.”[1]
Accompanied by this veteran campaigner, on whose military judgment he
had great reliance, Washington visited the different American posts, and
rode to the heights, commanding views over Boston and its environs,
being anxious to make himself acquainted with the strength and relative
position of both armies: and here we will give a few particulars
concerning the distinguished commanders with whom he was brought
immediately in competition.
Congress, speaking of them reproachfully, observed, “Three of England’s
most experienced generals are sent to wage war with their
fellow-subjects.” The first here alluded to was the Honorable William
Howe, next in command to Gage. He was a man of a fine presence, six feet
high, well proportioned, and of graceful deportment. He is said to have
been not unlike Washington in appearance, though wanting his energy and
activity. He lacked also his air of authority; but affability of
manners, and a generous disposition, made him popular with both officers
and soldiers.
There was a sentiment in his favor even among Americans at the time when
he arrived at Boston. It was remembered that he was brother to the
gallant and generous youth, Lord Howe who fell in the flower of his
days, on the banks of Lake George, and whose untimely death had been
lamented throughout the colonies. It was remembered that the general
himself had won reputation in the same campaign, commanding the light
infantry under Wolfe, on the famous plains of Abraham. A mournful
feeling had therefore gone through the country, when General Howe was
cited as one of the British commanders who had most distinguished
themselves in the bloody battle of Bunker’s Hill. Congress spoke of it
with generous sensibility, in their address to the people of Ireland
already quoted, “America is amazed,” said they, “to find the name of
Howe on the catalogue of her enemies—_she loved his brother_!”
General Henry Clinton, the next in command, was grandson of the Earl of
Lincoln, and son of George Clinton, who had been Governor of the
province of New York for ten years, from 1743. The general had seen
service on the continent in the Seven Years’ War. He was of short
stature, and inclined to corpulency; with a full face and prominent
nose. His manners were reserved, and altogether he was in strong
contrast with Howe, and by no means so popular.
Burgoyne, the other British general of note, was natural son of Lord
Bingley, and had entered the army at an early age. While yet a
subaltern, he had made a runaway match with a daughter of the Earl of
Derby, who threatened never to admit the offenders to his presence. In
1758, Burgoyne was a lieutenant-colonel of light dragoons. In 1761, he
was sent with a force to aid the Portuguese against the Spaniards,
joined the army commanded by the Count de la Lippe, and signalized
himself by surprising and capturing the town of Alcantara. He had since
been elected to Parliament for the borough of Middlesex, and displayed
considerable parliamentary talents. In 1772, he was made a
major-general. His taste, wit, and intelligence, and his aptness at
devising and promoting elegant amusements, made him for a time a leader
in the gay world; though Junius accuses him of unfair practices at the
gaming table. His reputation for talents and services had gradually
mollified the heart of his father-in-law, the Earl of Derby. In 1774, he
gave celebrity to the marriage of a son of the Earl with Lady Betty
Hamilton, by producing an elegant dramatic trifle, entitled, “The Maid
of the Oaks,” afterwards performed at Drury Lane, and honored with a
biting sarcasm by Horace Walpole. “There is a new puppet-show at Drury
Lane,” writes the wit, “as fine as the scenes can make it, and as dull
as the author could not help making it.”[2]
It is but justice to Burgoyne’s memory to add, that in after years he
produced a dramatic work, “The Heiress,” which extorted even Walpole’s
approbation, who pronounced it the genteelest comedy in the English
language.
Such were the three British commanders at Boston, who were considered
especially formidable; and they had with them eleven thousand veteran
troops, well appointed and well disciplined.
In visiting the different posts, Washington halted for a time at
Prospect Hill, which, as its name denotes, commanded a wide view over
Boston and the surrounding country. Here Putnam had taken his position
after the battle of Bunker’s Hill, fortifying himself with works which
he deemed impregnable; and here the veteran was enabled to point out to
the commander-in-chief, and to Lee, the main features of the belligerent
region, which lay spread out like a map before them.
Bunker’s Hill was but a mile distant to the west; the British standard
floating as if in triumph on its summit. The main force under General
Howe was intrenching itself strongly about half a mile beyond the place
of the recent battle. Scarlet uniforms gleamed about the hill; tents and
marquees whitened its sides. All up there was bright, brilliant, and
triumphant. At the base of the hill lay Charlestown in ashes, “nothing
to be seen of that fine town but chimneys and rubbish.”
Howe’s sentries extended a hundred and fifty yards beyond the neck or
isthmus, over which the Americans retreated after the battle. Three
floating batteries in Mystic River commanded this isthmus, and a
twenty-gun ship was anchored between the peninsula and Boston.
General Gage, the commander-in-chief, still had his head-quarters in the
town, but there were few troops there besides Burgoyne’s light-horse. A
large force, however, was intrenched south of the town on the neck
leading to Roxbury,—the only entrance to Boston by land.
The American troops were irregularly distributed in a kind of semicircle
eight or nine miles in extent; the left resting on Winter Hill, the most
northern post; the right extending on the south to Roxbury and
Dorchester Neck.
Washington reconnoitred the British posts from various points of view.
Every thing about them was in admirable order. The works appeared to be
constructed with military science, the troops to be in a high state of
discipline. The American camp, on the contrary, disappointed him. He had
expected to find eighteen or twenty thousand men under arms; there were
not much more than fourteen thousand. He had expected to find some
degree of system and discipline; whereas all were raw militia. He had
expected to find works scientifically constructed, and proofs of
knowledge and skill in engineering; whereas, what he saw of the latter
was very imperfect, and confined to the more manual exercise of cannon.
There was abundant evidence of aptness at trenching and throwing up
rough defences; and in that way General Thomas had fortified Roxbury
Neck, and Putnam had strengthened Prospect Hill. But the semicircular
line which linked the extreme posts, was formed of rudely-constructed
works, far too extensive for the troops which were at hand to man them.
Within this attenuated semicircle, the British forces lay concentrated
and compact; and having command of the water, might suddenly bring their
main strength to bear upon some weak point, force it, and sever the
American camp.
In fact, when we consider the scanty, ill-conditioned and irregular
force which had thus stretched itself out to beleaguer a town and harbor
defended by ships and floating batteries, and garrisoned by eleven
thousand strongly posted veterans, we are at a loss whether to attribute
its hazardous position to ignorance, or to that daring self-confidence,
which at times, in our military history, has snatched success in
defiance of scientific rules. It was revenge for the slaughter at
Lexington which, we are told, first prompted the investment of Boston.
“The universal voice,” says a contemporary, “is, starve them out. Drive
them from the town, and let His Majesty’s ships be their only place of
refuge.”
In riding throughout the camp, Washington observed that nine thousand of
the troops belonged to Massachusetts; the rest were from other
provinces. They were encamped in separate bodies, each with its own
regulations, and officers of its own appointment. Some had tents, others
were in barracks, and others sheltered themselves as best they might.
Many were sadly in want of clothing, and all, said Washington, were
strongly imbued with the spirit of insubordination, which they mistook
for independence.
A chaplain of one of the regiments[3] has left on record a graphic
sketch of this primitive army of the Revolution. “It is very diverting,”
writes he, “to walk among the camps. They are as different in their
forms, as the owners are in their dress; and every tent is a portraiture
of the temper and taste of the persons who encamp in it. Some are made
of boards, and some are made of sail-cloth; some are partly of one, and
partly of the other. Again others are made of stone and turf, brick and
brush. Some are thrown up in a hurry, others curiously wrought with
wreaths and withes.”
One of the encampments, however, was in striking contrast with the rest,
and might vie with those of the British for order and exactness. Here
were tents and marquees pitched in the English style; soldiers well
drilled and well equipped; every thing had an air of discipline and
subordination. It was a body of Rhode Island troops, which had been
raised, drilled, and brought to the camp by Brigadier-general Greene, of
that province, whose subsequent renown entitles him to an introduction
to the reader.
Nathaniel Greene was born in Rhode Island, on the 26th of May, 1742. His
father was a miller, an anchor-smith, and a Quaker preacher. The waters
of the Potowhammet turned the wheels of the mill, and raised the
ponderous sledge-hammer of the forge. Greene, in his boyhood, followed
the plough, and occasionally worked at the forge of his father. His
education was of an ordinary kind; but having an early thirst for
knowledge, he applied himself sedulously to various studies, while
subsisting by the labor of his hands. Nature had endowed him with quick
parts, and a sound judgment, and his assiduity was crowned with success.
He became fluent and instructive in conversation, and his letters, still
extant, show that he held an able pen.
In the late turn of public affairs, he had caught the belligerent spirit
prevalent throughout the country. Plutarch and Cæsar’s Commentaries
became his delight. He applied himself to military studies, for which he
was prepared by some knowledge of mathematics. His ambition was to
organize and discipline a corps of militia to which he belonged. For
this purpose, during a visit to Boston, he had taken note of every thing
about the discipline of the British troops. In the month of May, he had
been elected commander of the Rhode Island contingent of the army of
observation, and in June had conducted to the lines before Boston, three
regiments, whose encampment we have just described, and who were
pronounced the best disciplined and appointed troops in the army.
Greene made a soldierlike address to Washington, welcoming him to the
camp. His appearance and manner were calculated to make a favorable
impression. He was about thirty-nine years of age, nearly six feet high,
well built and vigorous, with an open, animated, intelligent
countenance, and a frank, manly demeanor. He may be said to have stepped
at once into the confidence of the commander-in-chief, which he never
forfeited, but became one of his most attached, faithful, and efficient
coadjutors throughout the war.
Having taken his survey of the army, Washington wrote to the President
of Congress, representing its various deficiencies, and, among other
things, urging the appointment of a commissary-general, a
quartermaster-general, a commissary of musters, and a commissary of
artillery. Above all things, he requested a supply of money as soon as
possible. “I find myself already much embarrassed for want of a military
chest.”
In one of his recommendations we have an instance of frontier
expediency, learnt in his early campaigns. Speaking of the ragged
condition of the army, and the difficulty of procuring the requisite
kind of clothing, he advises that a number of hunting-shirts, not less
than ten thousand, should be provided; as being the cheapest and
quickest mode of supplying this necessity. “I know nothing in a
speculative view more trivial,” observes he, “yet which, if put in
practice, would have a happier tendency to unite the men, and abolish
those provincial distinctions that lead to jealousy and
dissatisfaction.”
Among the troops most destitute, were those belonging to Massachusetts,
which formed the larger part of the army. Washington made a noble
apology for them. “This unhappy and devoted province,” said he, “has
been so long in a state of anarchy, and the yoke has been laid so
heavily on it, that great allowances are to be made for troops raised
under such circumstances. The deficiency of numbers, discipline, and
stores, can only lead to this conclusion, _that their spirit has
exceeded their strength_.”
This apology was the more generous, coming from a Southerner; for there
was a disposition among the Southern officers to regard the Eastern
troops disparagingly. But Washington already felt as commander-in-chief,
who looked with an equal eye on all; or rather as a true patriot, who
was above all sectional prejudices.
One of the most efficient co-operators of Washington at this time, and
throughout the war, was Jonathan Trumbull, the Governor of Connecticut.
He was a well educated man, experienced in public business, who had sat
for many years in the legislative councils of his native province.
Misfortune had cast him down from affluence, at an advanced period of
life, but had not subdued his native energy. He had been one of the
leading spirits of the Revolution, and the only colonial governor who,
at its commencement, proved true to the popular cause. He was now
sixty-five years of age, active, zealous, devout, a patriot of the
primitive New England stamp, whose religion sanctified his patriotism. A
letter addressed by him to Washington, just after the latter had entered
upon the command, is worthy of the purest days of the Covenanters.
“Congress,” writes he, “have, with one united voice, appointed you to
the high station you possess. The Supreme Director of all events hath
caused a wonderful union of hearts and counsels to subsist among us.
“Now, therefore, be strong, and very courageous. May the God of the
armies of Israel shower down the blessings of his Divine providence on
you; give you wisdom and fortitude, cover your head in the day of battle
and danger, add success, convince our enemies of their mistaken
measures, and that all their attempts to deprive these colonies of their
inestimable constitutional rights and liberties, are injurious and
vain.”
NOTE.
We are obliged to Professor Felton, of Cambridge, for correcting an
error in our first volume in regard to Washington’s head-quarters, and
for some particulars concerning a house, associated with the history and
literature of our country.
The house assigned to Washington for head-quarters, was that of the
president of the Provincial Congress, not of the University. It had been
one of those tory mansions noticed by the Baroness Reidesel, in her
mention of Cambridge. “Seven families, who were connected by
relationship, or lived in great intimacy, had here farms, gardens, and
splendid mansions, and not far off, orchards; and the buildings were at
a quarter of a mile distant from each other. The owners had been in the
habit of assembling every afternoon in one or other of these houses, and
of diverting themselves with music or dancing; and lived in affluence,
in good humor, and without care, until this unfortunate war dispersed
them, and transformed all these houses into solitary abodes.”
The house in question was confiscated by Government. It stood on the
Watertown road, about half a mile west of the college, and has long been
known as the Cragie house, from the name of Andrew Cragie, a wealthy
gentleman, who purchased it after the war, and revived its former
hospitality. He is said to have acquired great influence among the
leading members of the “great and general court,” by dint of jovial
dinners. He died long ago, but his widow survived until within fifteen
years. She was a woman of much talent and singularity. She refused to
have the canker worms destroyed, when they were making sad ravages among
the beautiful trees on the lawn before the house. “We are all worms,”
said she, “and they have as good a right here as I have.” The
consequence was that more than half of the trees perished.
The Cragie House is associated with American literature through some of
its subsequent occupants. Mr. Edward Everett resided in it the first
year or two after his marriage. Later, Mr. Jared Sparks, during part of
the time that he was preparing his collection of Washington’s writings;
editing a volume or two of his letters in the very room from which they
were written. Next came Mr. Worcester, author of the pugnacious
dictionary, and of many excellent books, and lastly Longfellow, the
poet, who, having married the heroine of Hyperion, purchased the house
of the heirs of Mr. Cragie and refitted it.
CHAPTER II.
QUESTIONS OF MILITARY RANK—POPULARITY OF PUTNAM—ARRANGEMENTS AT
HEAD-QUARTERS—COLONEL MIFFLIN AND JOHN TRUMBULL, AIDES-DE-CAMP—JOSEPH
REED, WASHINGTON’S SECRETARY AND CONFIDENTIAL FRIEND—GATES AS
ADJUTANT-GENERAL—HAZARDOUS SITUATION OF THE ARMY—STRENGTHENING OF THE
DEFENCES—EFFICIENCY OF PUTNAM—RAPID CHANGES—NEW DISTRIBUTION OF THE
FORCES—RIGID DISCIPLINE—LEE AND HIS CANE—HIS IDEA AS TO STRONG
BATTALIONS—ARRIVAL OF RIFLE COMPANIES—DANIEL MORGAN AND HIS SHARP
SHOOTERS—WASHINGTON DECLINES TO DETACH TROOPS TO DISTANT POINTS FOR
THEIR PROTECTION—HIS REASONS FOR SO DOING.
The justice and impartiality of Washington were called into exercise as
soon as he entered upon his command, in allaying discontents among his
general officers, caused by the recent appointments and promotions made
by the Continental Congress. General Spencer was so offended that Putnam
should be promoted over his head, that he left the army, without
visiting the commander-in-chief; but was subsequently induced to return.
General Thomas felt aggrieved by being outranked by the veteran Pomeroy;
the latter, however, declining to serve, he found himself senior
brigadier, and was appeased.
The sterling merits of Putnam soon made everyone acquiesce in his
promotion. There was a generosity and buoyancy about the brave old man
that made him a favorite throughout the army; especially with the
younger officers, who spoke of him familiarly and fondly as “Old Put;” a
sobriquet by which he is called even in one of the private letters of
the commander-in-chief.
The Congress of Massachusetts manifested considerate liberality with
respect to head-quarters. According to their minutes, a committee was
charged to procure a steward, a housekeeper, and two or three women
cooks; Washington, no doubt, having brought with him none but the black
servants who had accompanied him to Philadelphia, and who were but
little fitted for New England housekeeping. His wishes were to be
consulted in regard to the supply of his table. This his station, as
commander-in-chief, required should be kept up in ample and hospitable
style. Every day a number of his officers dined with him. As he was in
the neighborhood of the seat of the Provincial Government, he would
occasionally have members of Congress and other functionaries at his
board. Though social, however, he was not convivial in his habits. He
received his guests with courtesy; but his mind and time were too much
occupied by grave and anxious concerns, to permit him the genial
indulgence of the table. His own diet was extremely simple. Sometimes
nothing but baked apples or berries, with cream and milk. He would
retire early from the board, leaving an aide-de-camp or one of his
officers to take his place. Colonel Mifflin was the first person who
officiated as aide-de-camp. He was a Philadelphia gentleman of high
respectability, who had accompanied him from that city, and received his
appointment shortly after their arrival at Cambridge. The second
aide-de-camp was John Trumbull,[4] son of the Governor of Connecticut.
He had accompanied General Spencer to the camp, and had caught the
favorable notice of Washington by some drawings which he had made of the
enemy’s works. “I now suddenly found myself,” writes Trumbull, “in the
family of one of the most distinguished and dignified men of the age;
surrounded at his table by the principal officers of the army, and in
constant intercourse with them—it was further my duty to receive
company, and do the honors of the house to many of the first people of
the country of both sexes.” Trumbull was young, and unaccustomed to
society, and soon found himself, he says, unequal to the elegant duties
of his situation; he gladly exchanged it, therefore, for that of major
of brigade.
The member of Washington’s family most deserving of mention at
present, was his secretary, Mr. Joseph Reed. With this gentleman he
had formed an intimacy in the course of his visits to Philadelphia, to
attend the sessions of the Continental Congress. Mr. Reed was an
accomplished man, had studied law in America, and at the Temple in
London, and had gained a high reputation at the Philadelphia bar. In
the dawning of the Revolution he had embraced the popular cause, and
carried on a correspondence with the Earl of Dartmouth, endeavoring to
enlighten that minister on the subject of colonial affairs. He had
since been highly instrumental in rousing the Philadelphians to
co-operate with the patriots of Boston. A sympathy of views and
feelings had attached him to Washington, and induced him to accompany
him to the camp. He had no definite purpose when he left home, and his
friends in Philadelphia were surprised, on receiving a letter from him
written from Cambridge, to find that he had accepted the post of
secretary to the commander-in-chief.
They expostulated with him by letter. That a man in the thirty-fifth
year of his age, with a lucrative profession, a young wife and growing
family, and a happy home, should suddenly abandon all to join the
hazardous fortunes of a revolutionary camp, appeared to them the height
of infatuation. They remonstrated on the peril of the step. “I have no
inclination,” replied Reed, “to be hanged for half treason. When a
subject draws his sword against his prince, he must cut his way through,
if he means to sit down in safety. I have taken too active a part in
what may be called the civil part of opposition, to renounce, without
disgrace, the public cause when it seems to lead to danger; and have a
most sovereign contempt for the man who can plan measures he has not the
spirit to execute.”
Washington has occasionally been represented as cold and reserved; yet
his intercourse with Mr. Reed is a proof to the contrary. His friendship
towards him was frank and cordial, and the confidence he reposed in him
full and implicit. Reed, in fact, became, in a little time, the intimate
companion of his thoughts, his bosom counsellor. He felt the need of
such a friend in the present exigency, placed as he was in a new and
untried situation, and having to act with persons hitherto unknown to
him.
In military matters, it is true he had a shrewd counsellor in General
Lee; but Lee was a wayward character; a cosmopolite, without attachment
to country, somewhat splenetic, and prone to follow the bent of his
whims and humors, which often clashed with propriety and sound policy.
Reed on the contrary, though less informed on military matters, had a
strong common sense, unclouded by passion or prejudice, and a pure
patriotism, which regarded every thing as it bore upon the welfare of
his country.
Washington’s confidence in Lee had always to be measured and guarded in
matters of civil policy.
The arrival of Gates in camp, was heartily welcomed by the
commander-in-chief, who had received a letter from that officer,
gratefully acknowledging his friendly influence in procuring him the
appointment of adjutant-general. Washington may have promised himself
much cordial co-operation from him, recollecting the warm friendship
professed by him when he visited at Mount Vernon, and they talked
together over their early companionship in arms; but of that kind of
friendship there was no further manifestation. Gates was certainly of
great service, from his practical knowledge and military experience at
this juncture, when the whole army had in a manner to be organized; but
from the familiar intimacy of Washington he gradually estranged himself.
A contemporary has accounted for this, by alleging that he was secretly
chagrined at not having received the appointment of major-general, to
which he considered himself well fitted by his military knowledge and
experience, and which he thought Washington might have obtained for him
had he used his influence with Congress. We shall have to advert to this
estrangement of Gates on subsequent occasions.
The hazardous position of the army from the great extent and weakness of
its lines, was what most pressed on the immediate attention of
Washington; and he summoned a council of war, to take the matter into
consideration. In this it was urged that, to abandon the line of works,
after the great labor and expense of their construction, would be
dispiriting to the troops and encouraging to the enemy, while it would
expose a wide extent of the surrounding country to maraud and ravage.
Beside, no safer position presented itself, on which to fall back. This
being generally admitted, it was determined to hold on to the works, and
defend them as long as possible; and, in the mean time, to augment the
army to at least twenty thousand men.
Washington now hastened to improve the defences of the camp, strengthen
the weak parts of the line, and throw up additional works round the main
forts. No one seconded him more effectually in this matter than General
Putnam. No works were thrown up with equal rapidity to those under his
superintendence. “You seem, general,” said Washington, “to have the
faculty of infusing your own spirit into all the workmen you
employ;”—and it was the fact.
The observing chaplain already cited, gazed with wonder at the rapid
effects soon produced by the labors of an army. “It is surprising,”
writes he, “how much work has been done. The lines are extended almost
from Cambridge to Mystic River; very soon it will be morally impossible
for the enemy to get between the works, except in one place, which is
supposed to be left purposely unfortified, to entice the enemy out of
their fortresses. Who would have thought, twelve months past, that all
Cambridge and Charlestown would be covered over with American camps, and
cut up into forts and intrenchments, and all the lands, fields,
orchards, laid common,—horses and cattle feeding on the choicest mowing
land, whole fields of corn eaten down to the ground, and large parks of
well-regulated forest trees cut down for fire-wood and other public
uses.”
Beside the main dispositions above mentioned, about seven hundred men
were distributed in the small towns and villages along the coast, to
prevent depredations by water; and horses were kept ready saddled at
various points of the widely extended lines, to convey to head-quarters
intelligence of any special movement of the enemy.
The army was distributed by Washington into three grand divisions. One,
forming the right wing, was stationed on the heights of Roxbury. It was
commanded by Major-general Ward, who had under him Brigadier-generals
Spencer and Thomas. Another, forming the left wing under Major-general
Lee, having with him Brigadier-generals Sullivan and Greene, was
stationed on Winter and Prospect Hills; while the centre, under
Major-general Putnam and Brigadier-general Heath, was stationed at
Cambridge. With Putnam was encamped his favorite officer Knowlton who
had been promoted by Congress to the rank of major for his gallantry at
Bunker’s Hill.
At Washington’s recommendation, Joseph Trumbull, the eldest son of the
governor, received on the 24th of July the appointment of
commissary-general of the continental army. He had already officiated
with talent in that capacity in the Connecticut militia. “There is a
great overturning in the camp as to order and regularity,” writes the
military chaplain; “new lords, new laws. The generals Washington and Lee
are upon the lines every day. New orders from his excellency are read to
the respective regiments every morning after prayers. The strictest
government is taking place, and great distinction is made between
officers and soldiers. Every one is made to know his place and keep it,
or be tied up and receive thirty or forty lashes according to his crime.
Thousands are at work every day from four till eleven o’clock in the
morning.”
Lee was supposed to have been at the bottom of this rigid discipline;
the result of his experience in European campaigning. His notions of
military authority were acquired in the armies of the North. Quite a
sensation was, on one occasion, produced in camp by his threatening to
cane an officer for unsoldierly conduct. His laxity in other matters
occasioned almost equal scandal. He scoffed, we are told, “with his
usual profaneness,” at a resolution of Congress appointing a day of
fasting and prayer, to obtain the favor of Heaven upon their cause.
“Heaven,” he observed, “was ever found favorable to strong
battalions.”[5]
Washington differed from him in this respect. By his orders the
resolution of Congress was scrupulously enforced. All labor, excepting
that absolutely necessary, was suspended on the appointed day, and
officers and soldiers were required to attend divine service, armed and
equipped and ready for immediate action.
Nothing excited more gaze and wonder among the rustic visitors to the
camp, than the arrival of several rifle companies, fourteen hundred men
in all, from Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia; such stalwart fellows
as Washington had known in his early campaigns. Stark hunters and bush
fighters; many of them upwards of six feet high, and of vigorous frame;
dressed in fringed frocks, or rifle shirts, and round hats. Their
displays of sharp shooting were soon among the marvels of the camp. We
are told that while advancing at quick step, they could hit a mark of
seven inches diameter, at the distance of two hundred and fifty
yards.[6]
One of these companies was commanded by Captain Daniel Morgan, a native
of New Jersey, whose first experience in war had been to accompany
Braddock’s army as a waggoner. He had since carried arms on the frontier
and obtained a command. He and his riflemen in coming to the camp had
marched six hundred miles in three weeks. They will be found of signal
efficiency in the sharpest conflicts of the revolutionary war.
While all his forces were required for the investment of Boston,
Washington was importuned by the Legislature of Massachusetts and the
Governor of Connecticut, to detach troops for the protection of
different points of the sea-coast, where depredations by armed vessels
were apprehended. The case of New London was specified by Governor
Trumbull, where Captain Wallace of the Rose frigate, with two other
ships of war, had entered the harbor, landed men, spiked the cannon, and
gone off threatening future visits.
Washington referred to his instructions, and consulted with his general
officers and such members of the Continental Congress as happened to be
in camp, before he replied to these requests; he then respectfully
declined compliance.
In his reply to the General Assembly of Massachusetts, he stated frankly
and explicitly the policy and system on which the war was to be
conducted, and according to which he was to act as commander-in-chief.
“It has been debated in Congress and settled,” writes he, “that the
militia, or other internal strength of each province, is to be applied
for defence against those small and particular depredations, which were
to be expected, and to which they were supposed to be competent. This
will appear the more proper, when it is considered that every town, and
indeed every part of our sea-coast, which is exposed to these
depredations, would have an equal claim upon this army.
“It is the misfortune of our situation which exposes us to these
ravages, and against which, in my judgment, no such temporary relief
could possibly secure us. The great advantage the enemy have of
transporting troops, by being masters of the sea, will enable them to
harass us by diversions of this kind; and should we be tempted to pursue
them, upon every alarm, the army must either be so weakened as to expose
it to destruction, or a great part of the coast be still left
unprotected. Nor, indeed, does it appear to me that such a pursuit would
be attended with the least effect. The first notice of such an excursion
would be its actual execution, and long before any troops could reach
the scene of action, the enemy would have an opportunity to accomplish
their purpose and retire. It would give me great pleasure to have it in
my power to extend protection and safety to every individual; but the
wisdom of the General Court will anticipate me on the necessity of
conducting our operations on a general and impartial scale, so as to
exclude any just cause of complaint and jealousy.”
His reply to the Governor of Connecticut was to the same effect. “I am
by no means insensible to the situation of the people on the coast. I
wish I could extend protection to all, but the numerous detachments
necessary to remedy the evil would amount to a dissolution of the army,
or make the most important operations of the campaign depend upon the
piratical expeditions of two or three men-of-war and transports.”
His refusal to grant the required detachments gave much dissatisfaction
in some quarters, until sanctioned and enforced by the Continental
Congress. All at length saw and acquiesced in the justice and wisdom of
his decision. It was in fact a vital question, involving the whole
character and fortune of the war; and it was acknowledged that he met it
with a forecast and determination befitting a commander-in-chief.
CHAPTER III.
WASHINGTON’S OBJECT IN DISTRESSING BOSTON—SCARCITY AND SICKNESS IN THE
TOWN—A STARTLING DISCOVERY—SCARCITY OF POWDER IN THE CAMP—ITS PERILOUS
SITUATION—ECONOMY OF AMMUNITION—CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN LEE AND
BURGOYNE—CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN WASHINGTON AND GAGE—THE DIGNITY OF THE
PATRIOT ARMY ASSERTED.
The great object of Washington at present, was to force the enemy to
come out of Boston and try a decisive action. His lines had for some
time cut off all communication of the town with the country, and he had
caused the live stock within a considerable distance of the place to be
driven back from the coast, out of reach of the men-of-war’s boats.
Fresh provisions and vegetables were consequently growing more and more
scarce and extravagantly dear, and sickness began to prevail. “I have
done and shall do every thing in my power to distress them,” writes he
to his brother John Augustine. “The transports have all arrived, and
their whole reinforcement is landed, so that I see no reason why they
should not, if they ever attempt it, come boldly out and put the matter
to issue at once.”
“We are in the strangest state in the world,” writes a lady from Boston,
“surrounded on all sides. The whole country is in arms and intrenched.
We are deprived of fresh provisions, subject to continual alarms and
cannonadings, the Provincials being very audacious and advancing to our
lines, since the arrival of Generals Washington and Lee to command
them.”
At this critical juncture, when Washington was pressing the siege, and
endeavoring to provoke a general action, a startling fact came to light;
the whole amount of powder in the camp would not furnish more than nine
cartridges to a man![7]
A gross error had been made by the committee of supplies when
Washington, on taking command, had required a return of the ammunition.
They had returned the whole amount of powder collected by the province,
upwards of three hundred barrels; without stating what had been
expended. The blunder was detected on an order being issued for a new
supply of cartridges. It was found that there were but thirty-two
barrels of powder in store.
This was an astounding discovery. Washington instantly despatched
letters and expresses to Rhode Island, the Jerseys, Ticonderoga and
elsewhere, urging immediate supplies of powder and lead; no quantity,
however small, to be considered beneath notice. In a letter to Governor
Cooke of Rhode Island, he suggested that an armed vessel of that
province might be sent to seize upon a magazine of gunpowder, said to be
in a remote part of the Island of Bermuda. “I am very sensible,” writes
he, “that at first view the project may appear hazardous, and its
success must depend on the concurrence of many circumstances; but we are
in a situation which requires us to run all risks. * * * Enterprises
which appear chimerical, often prove successful from that very
circumstance. Common sense and prudence will suggest vigilance and care,
where the danger is plain and obvious; but where little danger is
apprehended, the more the enemy will be unprepared, and, consequently,
there is the fairest prospect of success.”
Day after day elapsed without the arrival of any supplies; for in these
irregular times, the munitions of war were not readily procured. It
seemed hardly possible that the matter could be kept concealed from the
enemy. Their works on Bunker’s Hill commanded a full view of those of
the Americans on Winter and Prospect Hills. Each camp could see what was
passing in the other. The sentries were almost near enough to converse.
There was furtive intercourse occasionally between the men. In this
critical state, the American camp remained for a fortnight; the anxious
commander incessantly apprehending an attack. At length a partial supply
from the Jerseys put an end to this imminent risk. Washington’s
secretary, Reed, who had been the confidant of his troubles and
anxieties, gives a vivid expression of his feelings on the arrival of
this relief. “I can hardly look back, without shuddering, at our
situation before this increase of our stock. _Stock_ did I say? it was
next to nothing. Almost the whole powder of the army was in the
cartridge-boxes.”[8]
It is thought that, considering the clandestine intercourse carried on
between the two camps, intelligence of this deficiency of ammunition on
the part of the besiegers must have been conveyed to the British
commander; but that the bold face with which the Americans continued to
maintain their position, made him discredit it.
Notwithstanding the supply from the Jerseys, there was not more powder
in camp than would serve the artillery for one day of general action.
None, therefore, was allowed to be wasted; the troops were even obliged
to bear in silence an occasional cannonading. “Our poverty in
ammunition,” writes Washington, “prevents our making a suitable return.”
One of the painful circumstances attending the outbreak of a
revolutionary war is, that gallant men, who have held allegiance to the
same government, and fought side by side under the same flag, suddenly
find themselves in deadly conflict with each other. Such was the case at
present in the hostile camps. General Lee, it will be recollected, had
once served under General Burgoyne, in Portugal, and had won his
brightest laurels when detached by that commander to surprise the
Spanish camp, near the Moorish castle of Villa Velha. A soldier’s
friendship had ever since existed between them, and when Lee had heard
at Philadelphia, before he had engaged in the American service, that his
old comrade and commander was arrived at Boston, he wrote a letter to
him giving his own views on the points in dispute between the colonies
and the mother country, and inveighing with his usual vehemence and
sarcastic point, against the conduct of the court and ministry. Before
sending the letter, he submitted it to the Boston delegates and other
members of Congress, and received their sanction.
Since his arrival in camp he had received a reply from Burgoyne, couched
in moderate and courteous language, and proposing an interview at a
designated house on Boston Neck, within the British sentries; mutual
pledges to be given for each other’s safety.
Lee submitted this letter to the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts,
and requested their commands with respect to the proposed interview.
They expressed, in reply, the highest confidence in his wisdom,
discretion and integrity, but questioned whether the interview might not
be regarded by the public with distrust; “a people contending for their
liberties being naturally disposed to jealousy.” They suggested,
therefore, as a means of preventing popular misconception, that Lee on
seeking the interview, should be accompanied by Mr. Elbridge Gerry; or
that the advice of a council of war should be taken in a matter of such
apparent delicacy.
Lee became aware of the surmises that might be awakened by the proposed
interview, and wrote a friendly note to Burgoyne declining it.
A correspondence of a more important character took place between
Washington and General Gage. It was one intended to put the hostile
services on a proper footing. A strong disposition had been manifested
among the British officers to regard those engaged in the patriot cause
as malefactors, outlawed from the courtesies of chivalric warfare.
Washington was determined to have a full understanding on this point. He
was peculiarly sensitive with regard to Gage. They had been companions
in arms in their early days; but Gage might now affect to look down upon
him as the chief of a rebel army. Washington took an early opportunity
to let him know, that he claimed to be the commander of a legitimate
force, engaged in a legitimate cause, and that both himself and his army
were to be treated on a footing of perfect equality. The correspondence
arose from the treatment of several American officers.
“I understand,” writes Washington to Gage, “that the officers engaged in
the cause of liberty and their country, who by the fortune of war have
fallen into your hands, have been thrown indiscriminately into a common
jail, appropriated to felons; that no consideration has been had for
those of the most respectable rank, when languishing with wounds and
sickness, and that some have been amputated in this unworthy situation.
Let your opinion, sir, of the principles which actuate them, be what it
may, they suppose that they act from the noblest of all principles, love
of freedom and their country. But political principles, I conceive, are
foreign to this point. The obligations arising from the rights of
humanity and claims of rank are universally binding and extensive,
except in case of retaliation. These, I should have hoped, would have
dictated a more tender treatment of those individuals whom chance or war
had put in your power. Nor can I forbear suggesting its fatal tendency
to widen that unhappy breach which you, and those ministers under whom
you act, have repeatedly declared your wish to see for ever closed. My
duty now makes it necessary to apprise you that, for the future, I shall
regulate all my conduct towards those gentlemen who are, or may be, in
our possession, exactly by the rule you shall observe towards those of
ours, now in your custody.
“If severity and hardships mark the line of your conduct, painful as it
may be to me, your prisoners will feel its effects. But if kindness and
humanity are shown to us, I shall with pleasure consider those in our
hands only as unfortunate, and they shall receive from me that treatment
to which the unfortunate are ever entitled.”
The following are the essential parts of a letter from General Gage in
reply.
“SIR,—To the glory of civilized nations, humanity and war have been
compatible, and humanity to the subdued has become almost a general
system. Britons, ever pre-eminent in mercy, have outgone common
examples, and overlooked the criminal in the captive. Upon these
principles your prisoners, whose lives by the law of the land are
destined to the cord, have hitherto been treated with care and kindness,
and more comfortably lodged than the King’s troops in the hospitals;
indiscriminately it is true, for I acknowledge no rank that is not
derived from the King.
“My intelligence from your army would justify severe recriminations. I
understand there are of the King’s faithful subjects, taken some time
since by the rebels, laboring, like negro slaves to gain their daily
subsistence, or reduced to the wretched alternative to perish by famine
or take arms against their King and country. Those who have made the
treatment of the prisoners in my hands, or of your other friends in
Boston, a pretence for such measures, found barbarity upon falsehood.
“I would willingly hope, sir, that the sentiments of liberality which I
have always believed you to possess, will be exerted to correct these
misdoings. Be temperate in political disquisition; give free operation
to truth, and punish those who deceive and misrepresent; and not only
the effects, but the cause, of this unhappy conflict will be removed.
Should those, under whose usurped authority you act, control such a
disposition, and dare to call severity retaliation; to God, who knows
all hearts, be the appeal of the dreadful consequences,” &c.
There were expressions in the foregoing letter well calculated to rouse
indignant feelings in the most temperate bosom. Had Washington been as
readily moved to transports of passion as some are pleased to represent
him, the _rebel_ and the _cord_ might readily have stung him to fury;
but with him, anger was checked in its impulses by higher energies, and
reined in to give a grander effect to the dictates of his judgment. The
following was his noble and dignified reply to General Gage:
“I addressed you, sir, on the 11th instant, in terms which gave the
fairest scope for that humanity and politeness which were supposed to
form a part of your character. I remonstrated with you on the unworthy
treatment shown to the officers and citizens of America, whom the
fortune of war, chance, or a mistaken confidence had thrown into your
hands. Whether British or American mercy, fortitude and patience, are
most pre-eminent; whether our virtuous citizens, whom the hand of
tyranny has forced into arms to defend their wives, their children and
their property, or the merciless instruments of lawless domination,
avarice, and revenge, best deserve the appellation of rebels, and the
punishment of that cord, which your affected clemency has forborne to
inflict; whether the authority under which I act is usurped, or founded
upon the genuine principles of liberty, were altogether foreign to the
subject. I purposely avoided all political disquisition; nor shall I now
avail myself of those advantages which the sacred cause of my country,
of liberty, and of human nature give me over you; much less shall I
stoop to retort and invective; but the intelligence you say you have
received from our army requires a reply. I have taken time, sir, to make
a strict inquiry, and find it has not the least foundation in truth. Not
only your officers and soldiers have been treated with the tenderness
due to fellow-citizens and brethren, but even those execrable
parricides, whose counsels and aid have deluged their country with
blood, have been protected from the fury of a justly enraged people. Far
from compelling or permitting their assistance, I am embarrassed with
the numbers who crowd to our camp, animated with the purest principles
of virtue and love to their country. * * * * * * * *
“You affect, sir, to despise all rank not derived from the same source
with your own. I cannot conceive one more honorable, than that which
flows from the uncorrupted choice of a brave and free people, the purest
source and original fountain of all power. Far from making it a plea for
cruelty, a mind of true magnanimity and enlarged ideas would comprehend
and respect it.
“What may have been the ministerial views which have precipitated the
present crisis, Lexington, Concord, and Charlestown can best declare.
May that God, to whom you, too, appeal, judge between America and you.
Under his providence, those who influence the councils of America, and
all the other inhabitants of the united colonies, at the hazard of their
lives, are determined to hand down to posterity those just and
invaluable privileges which they received from their ancestors.
“I shall now, sir, close my correspondence with you, perhaps for ever.
If your officers, our prisoners, receive a treatment from me different
from that which I wished to show them, they and you will remember the
occasion of it.”
We have given these letters of Washington almost entire, for they
contain his manifesto as commander-in-chief of the armies of the
Revolution; setting forth the opinions and motives by which he was
governed, and the principles on which hostilities on his part would be
conducted. It was planting with the pen, that standard which was to be
maintained by the sword.
In conformity with the threat conveyed in the latter part of his letter,
Washington issued orders that British officers at Watertown and Cape
Ann, who were at large on parole, should be confined in Northampton
jail; explaining to them that this conduct, which might appear to them
harsh and cruel, was contrary to his disposition, but according to the
rule of treatment observed by General Gage toward the American prisoners
in his hands; making no distinction of rank. Circumstances, of which we
have no explanation, induced subsequently a revocation of this order;
the officers were permitted to remain as before, at large upon parole,
experiencing every indulgence and civility consistent with their
security.
CHAPTER IV.
DANGERS IN THE INTERIOR—MACHINATIONS OF THE JOHNSON FAMILY—RIVALRY OF
ETHAN ALLEN AND BENEDICT ARNOLD—GOVERNMENT PERPLEXITIES ABOUT THE
TICONDEROGA CAPTURE—MEASURES TO SECURE THE PRIZE—ALLEN AND ARNOLD
AMBITIOUS OF FURTHER LAURELS—PROJECTS FOR THE INVASION OF CANADA—ETHAN
ALLEN AND SETH WARNER HONORED BY CONGRESS—ARNOLD DISPLACED BY A
COMMITTEE OF INQUIRY—HIS INDIGNATION—NEWS FROM CANADA—THE REVOLUTION TO
BE EXTENDED INTO THAT PROVINCE—ENLISTMENT OF GREEN MOUNTAIN
BOYS—SCHUYLER AT TICONDEROGA—STATE OF AFFAIRS THERE—ELECTION FOR
OFFICERS OF THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS—ETHAN ALLEN DISMOUNTED—JOINS THE
ARMY AS A VOLUNTEER—PREPARATIONS FOR THE INVASION OF CANADA—GENERAL
MONTGOMERY—INDIAN CHIEFS AT CAMBRIDGE—COUNCIL FIRE—PLAN FOR AN
EXPEDITION AGAINST QUEBEC—DEPARTURE OF TROOPS FROM TICONDEROGA—ARRIVAL
AT ISLE AUX NOIX.
We must interrupt our narrative of the siege of Boston to give an
account of events in other quarters, requiring the superintending care
of Washington as commander-in-chief. Letters from General Schuyler,
received in the course of July, had awakened apprehensions of danger
from the interior. The Johnsons were said to be stirring up the Indians
in the western parts of New York to hostility, and preparing to join the
British forces in Canada; so that, while the patriots were battling for
their rights along the seaboard, they were menaced by a powerful
combination in rear. To place this matter in a proper light, we will
give a brief statement of occurrences in the upper part of New York, and
on the frontiers of Canada, since the exploits of Ethan Allen and
Benedict Arnold, at Ticonderoga and on Lake Champlain.
Great rivalry, as has already been noted, had arisen between these
doughty leaders. Both had sent off expresses to the provincial
authorities, giving an account of their recent triumphs. Allen claimed
command at Ticonderoga, on the authority of the committee from the
Connecticut Assembly, which had originated the enterprise. Arnold
claimed it on the strength of his instructions from the Massachusetts
committee of safety. He bore a commission, too, given him by that
committee; whereas Allen had no other commission than that given him
before the war by the committees in the Hampshire Grants, to command
their Green Mountain Boys against the encroachments of New York.
“Colonel Allen,” said Arnold, “is a proper man to head his own wild
people, but entirely unacquainted with military service, and as I am the
only person who has been legally authorized to take possession of this
place, I am determined to insist on my right; * * * and shall keep it
[the fort] at every hazard, until I have further orders.”[9]
The public bodies themselves seemed perplexed what to do with the prize,
so bravely seized upon by these bold men. Allen had written to the
Albany committee, for men and provisions, to enable him to maintain his
conquest. The committee feared this daring enterprise might involve the
northern part of the province in the horrors of war and desolation, and
asked advice of the New York committee. The New York committee did not
think themselves authorized to give an opinion upon a matter of such
importance, and referred it to the Continental Congress.
The Massachusetts committee of safety, to whom Arnold had written,
referred the affair to the Massachusetts Provincial Congress. That body,
as the enterprise had begun in Connecticut, wrote to its General
Assembly to take the whole matter under their care and direction, until
the advice of the Continental Congress could be had.
The Continental Congress at length legitimated the exploit, and, as it
were, accepted the captured fortress. As it was situated within New
York, the custody of it was committed to that province, aided if
necessary by the New England colonies, on whom it was authorized to call
for military assistance.
The Provincial Congress of New York forthwith invited the “Governor and
Company of the English colony of Connecticut” to place part of their
forces in these captured posts, until relieved by New York troops; and
Trumbull, the Governor of Connecticut, soon gave notice that one
thousand men under Colonel Hinman, were on the point of marching, for
the reinforcement of Ticonderoga and Crown Point.
It had been the idea of the Continental Congress to have those posts
dismantled, and the cannon and stores removed to the south end of Lake
George, where a strong post was to be established. But both Allen and
Arnold exclaimed against such a measure; vaunting, and with reason, the
importance of those forts.
Both Allen and Arnold were ambitious of further laurels. Both were
anxious to lead an expedition into Canada; and Ticonderoga and Crown
Point would open the way to it. “The Key is ours,” writes Allen to the
New York Congress. “If the colonies would suddenly push an army of two
or three thousand men into Canada, they might make an easy conquest of
all that would oppose them, in the extensive province of Quebec, except
a reinforcement from England should prevent it. Such a diversion would
weaken Gage, and insure us Canada. I wish to God America would, at this
critical juncture, exert herself agreeably to the indignity offered her
by a tyrannical ministry. She might rise on eagles’ wings, and mount up
to glory, freedom, and immortal honor, if she did but know and exert her
strength. Fame is now hovering over her head. A vast continent must now
sink to slavery, poverty, horror and bondage, or rise to unconquerable
freedom, immense wealth, inexpressible felicity, and immortal fame.
“I will lay my life on it, that with fifteen hundred men, and a proper
train of artillery, I will take Montreal. Provided I could be thus
furnished, and if an army could command the field, it would be no
insuperable difficulty to take Quebec.”
A letter to the same purport, and with the same rhetorical flourish, on
which he appeared to value himself, was written by Allen to Trumbull,
the Governor of Connecticut. Arnold urged the same project, but in less
magniloquent language, upon the attention of the Continental Congress.
His letter was dated from Crown Point; where he had a little squadron,
composed of the sloop captured at St. Johns, a schooner, and a flotilla
of bateaux. All these he had equipped, armed, manned, and officered; and
his crews were devoted to him. In his letter to the Continental Congress
he gave information concerning Canada, collected through spies and
agents. Carleton, he said, had not six hundred effective men under him.
The Canadians and Indians were disaffected to the British Government,
and Montreal was ready to throw open its gates to a patriot force. Two
thousand men, he was certain, would be sufficient to get possession of
the province.
“I beg leave to add,” says he, “that if no person appears who will
undertake to carry the plan into execution, I will undertake, and, with
the smiles of Heaven, answer for the success, provided I am supplied
with men, &c., to carry it into execution without loss of time.”
In a postscript of his letter, he specifies the forces requisite for his
suggested invasion. “In order to give satisfaction to the different
colonies, I propose that Colonel Hinman’s regiment, now on their march
from Connecticut to Ticonderoga, should form part of the army; say one
thousand men; five hundred men to be sent from New York, five hundred of
General Arnold’s regiment, including the seamen and marines on board the
vessels (no _Green Mountain_ Boys).”
Within a few days after the date of this letter, Colonel Hinman with the
Connecticut troops arrived. The greater part of the Green Mountain Boys
now returned home, their term of enlistment having expired. Ethan Allen
and his brother in arms, Seth Warner, repaired to Congress to get pay
for their men, and authority to raise a new regiment. They were received
with distinguished honor by that body. The same pay was awarded to the
men who had served under them as that allowed to the continental troops;
and it was recommended to the New York Convention that, should it meet
the approbation of General Schuyler, a fresh corps of Green Mountain
Boys about to be raised, should be employed in the army under such
officers as they (the Green Mountain Boys) should choose.
To the New York Convention, Allen and Warner now repaired. There was a
difficulty about admitting them to the hall of Assembly, for their
attainder of outlawry had not been repealed. Patriotism, however,
pleaded in their behalf. They obtained an audience. A regiment of Green
Mountain Boys, five hundred strong, was decreed, and General Schuyler
notified the people of the New Hampshire Grants of the resolve, and
requested them to raise the regiment.
Thus prosperously went the affairs of Ethan Allen and Seth Warner. As to
Arnold, difficulties instantly took place between him and Colonel
Hinman. Arnold refused to give up to him the command of either post,
claiming on the strength of his instructions from the committee of
safety of Massachusetts, a right to the command of all the posts and
fortresses at the south end of Lake Champlain and Lake George. This
threw every thing into confusion. Colonel Hinman was himself perplexed
in this conflict of various authorities; being, as it were, but a _locum
tenens_ for the province of New York.
Arnold was at Crown Point, acting as commander of the fort and admiral
of the fleet; and having about a hundred and fifty resolute men under
him, was expecting with confidence to be authorized to lead an
expedition into Canada.
At this juncture arrived a committee of three members of the Congress of
Massachusetts, sent by that body to inquire into the manner in which he
had executed his instructions; complaints having been made of his
arrogant and undue assumption of command.
Arnold was thunderstruck at being subjected to inquiry, when he had
expected an ovation. He requested a sight of the committee’s
instructions. The sight of them only increased his indignation. They
were to acquaint themselves with the manner in which he had executed his
commission; with his spirit, capacity, and conduct. Should they think
proper, they might order him to return to Massachusetts, to render
account of the moneys, ammunition and stores he had received, and the
debts he had contracted on behalf of the colony. While at Ticonderoga,
he and his men were to be under command of the principal officer from
Connecticut.
Arnold was furious. He swore he would be second in command to no one,
disbanded his men, and threw up his commission. Quite a scene ensued.
His men became turbulent; some refused to serve under any other leader;
others clamored for their pay, which was in arrears. Part joined Arnold
on board of the vessels which were drawn out into the lake; and among
other ebullitions of passion, there was a threat of sailing for St.
Johns.
At length the storm was allayed by the interference of several of the
officers, and the assurances of the committee that every man should be
paid. A part of them enlisted under Colonel Easton, and Arnold set off
for Cambridge to settle his accounts with the committee of safety.
The project of an invasion of Canada, urged by Allen and Arnold, had at
first met with no favor, the Continental Congress having formally
resolved to make no hostile attempts upon that province. Intelligence
subsequently received, induced it to change its plans. Carleton was said
to be strengthening the fortifications and garrison at St. Johns, and
preparing to launch vessels on the lake wherewith to regain command of
it, and retake the captured posts. Powerful reinforcements were coming
from England and elsewhere. Guy Johnson was holding councils with the
fierce Cayugas and Senecas, and stirring up the Six Nations to
hostility. On the other hand, Canada was full of religious and political
dissensions. The late exploits of the Americans on Lake Champlain, had
produced a favorable effect on the Canadians, who would flock to the
patriot standard if unfurled among them by an imposing force. Now was
the time to strike a blow to paralyze all hostility from this quarter;
now, while Carleton’s regular force was weak, and before the arrival of
additional troops. Influenced by these considerations, Congress now
determined to extend the revolution into Canada, but it was an
enterprise too important to be entrusted to any but discreet hands.
General Schuyler, then in New York, was accordingly ordered, on the 27th
June, to proceed to Ticonderoga, and “should he find it practicable, and
not disagreeable to the Canadians, immediately to take possession of St.
Johns and Montreal, and pursue such other measures in Canada as might
have a tendency to promote the peace and security of these provinces.”
It behooved General Schuyler to be on the alert, lest the enterprise
should be snatched from his hands. Ethan Allen and Seth Warner were at
Bennington, among the Green Mountains. Enlistments were going on, but
too slow for Allen’s impatience, who had his old hankering for a
partisan foray. In a letter to Governor Trumbull (July 12th), he writes,
“Were it not that the grand Continental Congress had totally
incorporated the Green Mountain Boys into a battalion under certain
regulations and command, I would forthwith advance them into Canada and
invest Montreal, _exclusive of any help from the colonies_; though under
present circumstances I would not, for my right arm, act without or
contrary to order. _If my fond zeal for reducing the King’s fortresses
and destroying or imprisoning his troops in Canada be the result of
enthusiasm_, I hope and expect the wisdom of the Continent will treat it
as such; and on the other hand, if it proceed from sound policy, that
the plan will be adopted.”[10]
Schuyler arrived at Ticonderoga on the 18th of July. A letter to
Washington, to whom, as commander-in-chief, he made constant reports,
gives a striking picture of a frontier post in those crude days of the
Revolution.
“You will expect that I should say something about this place and the
troops here. Not one earthly thing for offence or defence has been done;
_the commanding officer has no orders; he only came to reinforce the
garrison, and he expected the general_. About ten last night I arrived
at the landing-place, at the north end of Lake George; a post occupied
by a captain and one hundred men. A sentinel, on being informed that I
was in the boat, quitted his post to go and awaken the guard, consisting
of three men, in which he had no success. I walked up and came to
another, a sergeant’s guard. Here the sentinel challenged, but suffered
me to come up to him; the whole guard, like the first, in the soundest
sleep. With a penknife only I could have cut off both guards, and then
have set fire to the block house, destroyed the stores, and starved the
people here. At this post I had pointedly recommended vigilance and
care, as all the stores from Lake George must necessarily be landed
here. But I hope to get the better of this inattention. The officers and
men are all good-looking people, and decent in their deportment, and I
really believe will make good soldiers as soon as I can get the better
of this _nonchalance_ of theirs. Bravery, I believe, they are far from
wanting.”
Colonel Hinman, it will be recollected, was in temporary command at
Ticonderoga, if that could be called a command where none seemed to
obey. The garrison was about twelve hundred strong: the greater part
Connecticut men brought by himself; some were New York troops, and some
few Green Mountain Boys. Schuyler, on taking command, despatched a
confidential agent into Canada, Major John Brown, an American, who
resided on the Sorel River, and was popular among the Canadians. He was
to collect information as to the British forces and fortifications, and
to ascertain how an invasion and an attack on St. Johns would be
considered by the people of the province: in the mean time, Schuyler set
diligently to work to build boats and prepare for the enterprise, should
it ultimately be ordered by Congress.
Schuyler was an authoritative man, and inherited from his Dutch ancestry
a great love of order; he was excessively annoyed, therefore, by the
confusion and negligence prevalent around him, and the difficulties and
delays thereby occasioned. He chafed in spirit at the disregard of
discipline among his yeoman soldiery, and their opposition to all system
and regularity. This was especially the case with the troops from
Connecticut, officered generally by their own neighbors and familiar
companions, and unwilling to acknowledge the authority of a commander
from a different province. He poured out his complaints in a friendly
letter to Washington; the latter consoled him by stating his own
troubles and grievances in the camp at Cambridge, and the spirit with
which he coped with them. “From my own experience,” writes he (July 28),
“I can easily judge of your difficulties in introducing order and
discipline into troops, who have, from their infancy, imbibed ideas of
the most contrary kind. It would be far beyond the compass of a letter,
for me to describe the situation of things here [at Cambridge], on my
arrival. Perhaps you will only be able to judge of it, from my assuring
you, that mine must be a portrait at full length of what you have had in
miniature. Confusion and discord reigned in every department, which, in
a little time, must have ended either in the separation of the army, or
fatal contests with one another. The better genius of America has
prevailed, and most happily, the ministerial troops have not availed
themselves of these advantages, till, I trust, the opportunity is in a
great measure passed over. * * * We mend every day, and, I flatter
myself, that in a little time we shall work up these raw materials into
a good manufacture. I must recommend to you, what I endeavor to practise
myself, patience and perseverance.”
Schuyler took the friendly admonition in the spirit in which it was
given. “I can easily conceive,” writes he (Aug. 6th), “that my
difficulties are only a faint semblance of yours. Yes, my general, I
will strive to copy your bright example, and patiently and steadily
persevere in that line which only can promise the wished-for
reformation.”
He had calculated on being joined by this time by the regiment of Green
Mountain Boys which Ethan Allen and Seth Warner had undertaken to raise
in the New Hampshire Grants. Unfortunately, a quarrel had arisen between
those brothers in arms, which filled the Green Mountains with discord
and party feuds. The election of officers took place on the 27th of
July. It was made by committees from the different townships. Ethan
Allen was entirely passed by, and Seth Warner nominated as
Lieutenant-colonel of the regiment. Allen was thunderstruck at finding
himself thus suddenly dismounted. His patriotism and love of adventure,
however, were not quelled: and he forthwith repaired to the army at
Ticonderoga to offer himself as a volunteer.
Schuyler, at first, hesitated to accept his services. He was aware of
his aspiring notions, and feared there would be a difficulty in keeping
him within due bounds, but was at length persuaded by his officers to
retain him, to act as a pioneer on the Canadian frontier.
In a letter from camp, Allen gave Governor Trumbull an account of the
downfall of his towering hopes. “Notwithstanding my zeal and success in
my country’s cause, the old farmers on the New Hampshire Grants, who do
not incline to go to war, have met in a committee meeting, and in their
nomination of officers for the regiment of Green Mountain Boys, have
wholly omitted me.”
His letter has a consolatory postscript. “I find myself in the favor of
the officers of the army and the young Green Mountain Boys. How the old
men came to reject me I cannot conceive, inasmuch as I saved them from
the encroachments of New York.”[11]—The old men probably doubted his
discretion.
Schuyler was on the alert with respect to the expedition against Canada.
From his agent Major Brown, and from other sources, he had learnt that
there were but about seven hundred king’s troops in that province; three
hundred of them at St. Johns, about fifty at Quebec, the remainder at
Montreal, Chamblee, and the upper posts. Colonel Guy Johnson was at
Montreal with three hundred men, mostly his tenants, and with a number
of Indians. Two batteries had been finished at St. Johns, mounting nine
guns each: other works were intrenched and picketed. Two large row
galleys were on the stocks, and would soon be finished. Now was the
time, according to his informants, to carry Canada. It might be done
with great ease and little cost. The Canadians were disaffected to
British rule, and would join the Americans, and so would many of the
Indians.
“I am prepared,” writes he to Washington, “to move against the enemy,
unless your Excellency and Congress should direct otherwise. In the
course of a few days I expect to receive the ultimate determination.
Whatever it may be, I shall try to execute it in such a manner as will
promote the just cause in which we are engaged.”
While awaiting orders on this head, he repaired to Albany, to hold a
conference and negotiate a treaty with the Caughnawagas, and the
warriors of the Six Nations, whom, as one of the commissioners of Indian
affairs, he had invited to meet him at that place. General Richard
Montgomery was to remain in command at Ticonderoga, during his absence,
and to urge forward the military preparations. As the subsequent
fortunes of this gallant officer are inseparably connected with the
Canadian campaign, and have endeared his name to Americans, we pause to
give a few particulars concerning him.
General Richard Montgomery was of a good family in the north of Ireland,
where he was born in 1736. He entered the army when about eighteen years
of age; served in America in the French war; won a lieutenancy by
gallant conduct at Louisburg; followed General Amherst to Lake
Champlain, and, after the conquest of Canada, was promoted to a
captaincy for his services in the West Indies.
After the peace of Versailles he resided in England; but, about three
years before the breaking out of the Revolution, he sold out his
commission in the army and emigrated to New York. Here he married the
eldest daughter of Judge Robert R. Livingston, of the Clermont branch of
that family; and took up his residence on an estate which he had
purchased in Dutchess County on the banks of the Hudson.
Being known to be in favor of the popular cause, he was drawn
reluctantly from his rural abode, to represent his county in the first
convention of the province; and on the recent organization of the army,
his military reputation gained him the unsought commission of
Brigadier-general. “It is an event,” writes he to a friend, “which must
put an end for a while, perhaps for ever, to the quiet scheme of life I
had prescribed for myself; for, though entirely unexpected and undesired
by me, the will of an oppressed people, compelled to choose between
liberty and slavery, must be obeyed.”
At the time of receiving his commission, Montgomery was about
thirty-nine years of age, and the _beau ideal_ of a soldier. His form
was well proportioned and vigorous; his countenance expressive and
prepossessing; he was cool and discriminating in council, energetic and
fearless in action. His principles commanded the respect of friends and
foes, and he was noted for winning the affections of the soldiery.
While these things were occurring at Ticonderoga, several Indian chiefs
made their appearance in the camp at Cambridge. They came in savage
state and costume, as ambassadors from their respective tribes, to have
a talk about the impending invasion of Canada. One was chief of the
Caughnawaga tribe, whose residence was on the banks of the St. Lawrence,
six miles above Montreal. Others were from St. Francis, about forty-five
leagues above Quebec, and were of a warlike tribe, from which
hostilities had been especially apprehended.
Washington, accustomed to deal with the red warriors of the wilderness,
received them with great ceremonial. They dined at head-quarters among
his officers, and it is observed that to some of the latter they might
have served as models; such was their grave dignity and decorum.
A council fire was held. The sachems all offered, on behalf of their
tribes, to take up the hatchet for the Americans, should the latter
invade Canada. The offer was embarrassing. Congress had publicly
resolved to seek nothing but neutrality from the Indian nations, unless
the ministerial agents should make an offensive alliance with them. The
chief of the St. Francis tribe declared that Governor Carleton had
endeavored to persuade him to take up the hatchet against the Americans,
but in vain. “As our ancestors gave this country to you,” added he
grandly, “we would not have you destroyed by England; but are ready to
afford you our assistance.”
Washington wished to be certain of the conduct of the enemy, before he
gave a reply to these Indian overtures. He wrote by express, therefore,
to General Schuyler, requesting him to ascertain the intentions of the
British governor with respect to the native tribes.
By the same express, he communicated a plan which had occupied his
thoughts for several days. As the contemplated movement of Schuyler
would probably cause all the British force in Canada to be concentrated
in the neighborhood of Montreal and St. Johns, he proposed to send off
an expedition of ten or twelve hundred men, to penetrate to Quebec by
the way of the Kennebec River. “If you are resolved to proceed,” writes
he to Schuyler, “which I gather from your last letter is your intention,
it would make a diversion that would distract Carleton. He must either
break up, and follow this party to Quebec, by which he would leave you a
free passage, or he must suffer that important place to fall into other
hands; an event that would have a decisive effect and influence on the
public interest. * * * * The few whom I have consulted on the project
approve it much, but the final determination is deferred until I hear
from you. Not a moment’s time is to be lost in the preparations for this
enterprise, if the advices from you favor it. With the utmost expedition
the season will be considerably advanced, so that you will dismiss the
express as soon as possible.”
The express found Schuyler in Albany, where he had been attending the
conference with the Six Nations. He had just received intelligence which
convinced him of the propriety of an expedition into Canada; had sent
word to General Montgomery to get every thing ready for it, and was on
the point of departing for Ticonderoga to carry it into effect. In reply
to Washington, he declared his conviction, from various accounts which
he had received, that Carleton and his agents were exciting the Indian
tribes to hostility. “I should, therefore, not hesitate one moment,”
adds he, “to employ any savages that might be willing to join us.”
He expressed himself delighted with Washington’s project of sending off
an expedition to Quebec, regretting only that it had not been thought of
earlier. “Should the detachment from your body penetrate into Canada,”
added he, “and we meet with success, Canada must inevitably fall into
our hands.”
Having sent off these despatches, Schuyler hastened back to Ticonderoga.
Before he reached there, Montgomery had received intelligence that
Carleton had completed his armed vessels at St. Johns, and was about to
send them into Lake Champlain by the Sorel River. No time, therefore,
was to be lost in getting possession of the Isle aux Noix, which
commanded the entrance to that river. Montgomery hastened, therefore, to
embark with about a thousand men, which were as many as the boats now
ready could hold, taking with him two pieces of artillery; with this
force he set off down the lake. A letter to General Schuyler explained
the cause of his sudden departure, and entreated him to follow on in a
whale-boat, leaving the residue of the artillery to come on as soon as
conveyances could be procured.
Schuyler arrived at Ticonderoga on the night of the 30th of August, but
too ill of a bilious fever to push on in a whale-boat. He caused,
however, a bed to be prepared for him in a covered bateau, and, ill as
he was, continued forward on the following day. On the 4th of September
he overtook Montgomery at the Isle la Motte, where he had been detained
by contrary weather, and, assuming command of the little army, kept on
the same day to the Isle aux Noix, about twelve miles south of St.
Johns—where for the present we shall leave him, and return to the
head-quarters of the commander-in-chief.
CHAPTER V.
A CHALLENGE DECLINED—A BLOW MEDITATED—A CAUTIOUS COUNCIL OF
WAR—PREPARATION FOR THE QUEBEC EXPEDITION—BENEDICT ARNOLD THE
LEADER—ADVICE AND INSTRUCTIONS—DEPARTURE—GENERAL SCHUYLER ON THE
SOREL—RECONNOITRES ST. JOHNS—CAMP AT ISLE AUX NOIX—ILLNESS OF
SCHUYLER—RETURNS TO TICONDEROGA—EXPEDITION OF MONTGOMERY AGAINST ST.
JOHNS—LETTER OF ETHAN ALLEN—HIS DASH AGAINST MONTREAL—ITS CATASTROPHE—A
HERO IN IRONS—CORRESPONDENCE OF WASHINGTON WITH SCHUYLER AND ARNOLD—HIS
ANXIETY ABOUT THEM.
The siege of Boston had been kept up for several weeks without any
remarkable occurrence. The British remained within their lines,
diligently strengthening them; the besiegers having received further
supplies of ammunition, were growing impatient of a state of inactivity.
Towards the latter part of August there were rumors from Boston, that
the enemy were preparing for a sortie. Washington was resolved to
provoke it by a kind of challenge. He accordingly detached fourteen
hundred men to seize at night upon a height within musket shot of the
enemy’s line on Charlestown Neck, presuming that the latter would sally
forth on the following day to dispute possession of it, and thus be
drawn into a general battle. The task was executed with silence and
celerity, and by daybreak the hill presented to the astonished foe, the
aspect of a fortified post.
The challenge was not accepted. The British opened a heavy cannonade
from Bunker’s Hill, but kept within their works. The Americans, scant of
ammunition, could only reply with a single nine-pounder; this, however,
sank one of the floating batteries which guarded the neck. They went on
to complete and strengthen this advanced post, exposed to daily
cannonade and bombardment, which, however, did but little injury. They
continued to answer from time to time with a single gun; reserving their
ammunition for a general action. “We are just in the situation of a man
with little money in his pocket,” writes Secretary Reed; “he will do
twenty mean things to prevent his breaking in upon his little stock. We
are obliged to bear with the rascals on Bunker’s Hill, when a few shot
now and then in return, would keep our men attentive to their business
and give the enemy alarms.”[12]
The evident unwillingness of the latter to come forth was perplexing.
“Unless the ministerial troops in Boston are waiting for
reinforcements,” writes Washington, “I cannot devise what they are
staying there for, nor why, as they affect to despise the Americans,
they do not come forth and put an end to the contest at once.”
Perhaps they persuaded themselves that his army, composed of crude,
half-disciplined levies from different and distant quarters, would
gradually fall asunder and disperse, or that its means of subsistence
would be exhausted. He had his own fears on the subject, and looked
forward with doubt and anxiety to a winter’s campaign; the heavy expense
that would be incurred in providing barracks, fuel and warm clothing;
the difficulty there would be of keeping together, through the rigorous
season, troops unaccustomed to military hardships, and none of whose
terms of enlistment extended beyond the 1st of January: the supplies of
ammunition, too, that would be required for protracted operations; the
stock of powder on hand, notwithstanding the most careful husbandry,
being fearfully small. Revolving these circumstances in his mind, he
rode thoughtfully about the commanding points in the vicinity of Boston,
considering how he might strike a decisive blow that would put an end to
the murmuring inactivity of the army, and relieve the country from the
consuming expense of maintaining it. The result was, a letter to the
major and brigadier-generals, summoning them to a council of war to be
held at the distance of three days, and giving them previous intimation
of its purpose. It was to know whether, in their judgment, a successful
attack might not be made upon the troops at Boston by means of boats, in
co-operation with an attempt upon their lines at Roxbury. “The success
of such an enterprise,” adds he, “depends, I well know, upon the Allwise
Disposer of events, and it is not within the reach of human wisdom to
foretell the issue; but if the prospect is fair, the undertaking is
justifiable.”
He proceeded to state the considerations already cited, which appeared
to justify it. The council having thus had time for previous
deliberation, met on the 11th of September. It was composed of
Major-generals Ward, Lee, and Putnam, and Brigadier-generals Thomas,
Heath, Sullivan, Spencer, and Greene. They unanimously pronounced the
suggested attempt inexpedient, at least for the present.
It certainly was bold and hazardous, yet it seems to have taken strong
hold on the mind of the commander-in-chief, usually so cautious. “I
cannot say,” writes he to the President of Congress, “that I have wholly
laid it aside; but new events may occasion new measures. Of this I hope
the honorable Congress can need no assurance, that there is not a man in
America who more earnestly wishes such a termination of the campaign, as
to make the army no longer necessary.”
In the mean time, as it was evident the enemy did not intend to come
out, but were only strengthening their defences and preparing for
winter, Washington was enabled to turn his attention to the expedition
to be sent into Canada by the way of the Kennebec River.
A detachment of about eleven hundred men, chosen for the purpose, was
soon encamped on Cambridge Common. There were ten companies of New
England infantry, some of them from General Greene’s Rhode Island
regiments; three rifle companies from Pennsylvania and Virginia, one of
them Captain Daniel Morgan’s famous company; and a number of volunteers;
among whom was Aaron Burr, then but twenty years of age, and just
commencing his varied, brilliant, but ultimately unfortunate career.
The proposed expedition was wild and perilous, and required a hardy,
skilful and intrepid leader. Such a one was at hand. Benedict Arnold was
at Cambridge, occupied in settling his accounts with the Massachusetts
committee of safety. These were nearly adjusted. Whatever faults may
have been found with his conduct in some particulars, his exploits on
Lake Champlain had atoned for them; for valor in time of war, covers a
multitude of sins. It was thought too, by some, that he had been treated
harshly, and there was a disposition to soothe his irritated pride.
Washington had given him an honorable reception at head-quarters, and
now considered him the very man for the present enterprise. He had shown
aptness for military service, whether on land or water. He was
acquainted, too, with Canada, and especially with Quebec, having, in the
course of his checkered life, traded in horses between that place and
the West Indies. With these considerations he intrusted him with the
command of the expedition, giving him the commission of
lieutenant-colonel in the continental army.
As he would be intrusted with dangerous powers, Washington, beside a
general letter of instructions, addressed a special one to him
individually, full of cautious and considerate advice. “Upon your
conduct and courage, and that of the officers and soldiers detailed on
this expedition, not only the success of the present enterprise, and
your own honor, but the safety and welfare of the whole continent, may
depend. I charge you, therefore, and the officers and soldiers under
your command, as you value your own safety and honor, and the favor and
esteem of your country, that you consider yourselves as marching, not
through the country of an enemy, but of our friends and brethren; for
such the inhabitants of Canada and the Indian nations have approved
themselves, in this unhappy contest between Great Britain and America;
and that you check by every motive of duty and fear of punishment every
attempt to plunder or insult the inhabitants of Canada. Should any
American soldier be so base and infamous as to injure any Canadian or
Indian in his person or property, I do most earnestly enjoin you to
bring him to such severe and exemplary punishment as the enormity of the
crime may require. Should it extend to death itself, it will not be
disproportioned to its guilt at such a time and in such a cause. * * * *
I also give in charge to you, to avoid all disrespect to the religion of
the country and its ceremonies. * * While we are contending for our own
liberty, we should be very cautious not to violate the rights of
conscience in others, ever considering that God alone is the judge of
the hearts of men, and to him only, in this case, are they answerable.”
In the general letter of instructions, Washington inserted the following
clause. “If Lord Chatham’s son should be in Canada, and in any way fall
into your power, you are enjoined to treat him with all possible
deference and respect. You cannot err in paying too much honor to the
son of so illustrious a character and so true a friend to America.”
Arnold was, moreover, furnished with handbills for distribution in
Canada, setting forth the friendly objects of the present expedition, as
well as of that under General Schuyler; and calling on the Canadians to
furnish necessaries and accommodations of every kind; for which they
were assured ample compensation.
On the 13th of September, Arnold struck his tents, and set out in high
spirits. More fortunate than his rival, Ethan Allen, he had attained the
object of his ambition, the command of an expedition into Canada; and
trusted in the capture of Quebec, to eclipse even the surprise of
Ticonderoga.
Washington enjoined upon him to push forward, as rapidly as possible,
success depending upon celerity; and counted the days as they elapsed
after his departure, impatient to receive tidings of his progress up the
Kennebec, and expecting that the expedition would reach Quebec about the
middle of October. In the interim came letters from General Schuyler,
giving particulars of the main expedition.
In a preceding chapter we left the general and his little army at the
Isle aux Noix, near the Sorel River, the outlet of the lake. Thence, on
the 5th of September, he sent Colonel Ethan Allen and Major Brown to
reconnoitre the country between that river and the St. Lawrence, to
distribute friendly addresses among the people and ascertain their
feelings. This done, and having landed his baggage and provisions, the
general proceeded along the Sorel River the next day with his boats,
until within two miles of St. Johns, when a cannonade was opened from
the fort. Keeping on for half a mile further, he landed his troops in a
deep, close swamp, where they had a sharp skirmish with an ambuscade of
tories and Indians, whom they beat off with some loss on both sides.
Night coming on, they cast up a small intrenchment, and encamped,
disturbed occasionally by shells from the fort, which, however, did no
other mischief than slightly wounding a lieutenant.
In the night the camp was visited secretly by a person, who informed
General Schuyler of the state of the fort. The works were completed, and
furnished with cannon. A vessel pierced for sixteen guns was launched,
and would be ready to sail in three or four days. It was not probable
that any Canadians would join the army, being disposed to remain
neutral. This intelligence being discussed in a council of war in the
morning, it was determined that they had neither men nor artillery
sufficient to undertake a siege. They returned, therefore, to the Isle
aux Noix, cast up fortifications, and threw a boom across the channel of
the river to prevent the passage of the enemy’s vessels into the lake,
and awaited the arrival of artillery and reinforcements from
Ticonderoga.
In the course of a few days the expected reinforcements arrived, and
with them a small train of artillery. Ethan Allen also returned from his
reconnoitring expedition, of which he made a most encouraging report.
The Canadian captains of militia were ready, he said, to join the
Americans, whenever they should appear with sufficient force. He had
held talks, too, with the Indians, and found them well disposed. In a
word, he was convinced that an attack on St. Johns, and an inroad into
the province, would meet with hearty co-operation.
Preparations were now made for the investment of St. Johns by land and
water. Major Brown, who had already acted as a scout, was sent with one
hundred Americans, and about thirty Canadians towards Chamblee, to make
friends in that quarter, and to join the army as soon as it should
arrive at St. Johns.
To quiet the restless activity of Ethan Allen, who had no command in the
army, he was sent with an escort of thirty men to retrace his steps,
penetrate to La Prairie, and beat up for recruits among the people whom
he had recently visited.
For some time past, General Schuyler had been struggling with a
complication of maladies, but exerting himself to the utmost in the
harassing business of the camp, still hoping to be able to move with the
army. When every thing was nearly ready, he was attacked in the night by
a severe access of his disorder, which confined him to his bed, and
compelled him to surrender the conduct of the expedition to General
Montgomery. Since he could be of no further use, therefore, in this
quarter, he caused his bed, as before, to be placed on board a covered
bateau, and set off for Ticonderoga, to hasten forward reinforcements
and supplies. An hour after his departure, he met Colonel Seth Warner,
with one hundred and seventy Green Mountain Boys, steering for the camp,
“being the first,” adds he, “that have appeared of that boasted corps.”
Some had mutinied and deserted the colonel, and the remainder were at
Crown Point; whence they were about to embark.
Such was the purport of different letters received from Schuyler; the
last bearing date September 20th. Washington was deeply concerned when
informed that he had quitted the army, supposing that General Wooster,
as the eldest brigadier, would take rank and command of Montgomery, and
considering him deficient in the activity and energy required by the
difficult service in which he was engaged. “I am, therefore,” writes he
to Schuyler, “much alarmed for Arnold, whose expedition was built upon
yours, and who will infallibly perish, if the invasion and entry into
Canada are abandoned by your successor. I hope by this time the
penetration into Canada by your army is effected; but if it is not, and
there are any intentions to lay it aside, I beg it may be done in such a
manner that Arnold may be saved, by giving him notice; and in the mean
time, your army may keep such appearances as to fix Carleton, and to
prevent the force of Canada being turned wholly upon Arnold.
“Should this find you at Albany, and General Wooster about taking the
command, I entreat you to impress him strongly with the importance and
necessity of proceeding, or so to conduct, that Arnold may have time to
retreat.”
What caused this immediate solicitude about Arnold, was a letter
received from him, dated ten days previously from Fort Western, on
the Kennebec River. He had sent reconnoitring parties ahead in light
canoes, to gain intelligence from the Indians, and take the courses
and distances to Dead River, a branch of the Kennebec, and he was
now forwarding his troops in bateaux in five divisions, one day’s
march apart; Morgan with his riflemen in the first division,
Lieutenant-colonel Roger Enos commanding the last. As soon as the
last division should be under way, Arnold was to set off in a light
skiff to overtake the advance. Chaudiere Pond on the Chaudiere
River, was the appointed rendezvous, whence they were to march in a
body towards Quebec.
Judging from the date of the letter, Arnold must at this time be making
his way, by land and water, through an uninhabited and unexplored
wilderness; and beyond the reach of recall; his situation, therefore,
would be desperate should General Wooster fail to follow up the campaign
against St. Johns. The solicitude of Washington on his account was
heightened by the consciousness, that the hazardous enterprise in which
he was engaged had chiefly been set on foot by himself, and he felt in
some degree responsible for the safety of the resolute partisan and his
companions.
Fortunately, Wooster was not the successor to Schuyler in the command of
the expedition. Washington was mistaken as to the rank of his
commission, which was one degree lower than that of Montgomery. The
veteran himself, who was a gallant soldier, and had seen service in two
wars, expressed himself nobly in the matter, in reply to some inquiry
made by Schuyler. “I have the cause of my country too much at heart,”
said he, “to attempt to make any difficulty or uneasiness in the army,
upon whom the success of an enterprise of almost infinite importance to
the country is now depending. I shall consider my rank in the army what
my commission from the Continental Congress makes it, and shall not
attempt to dispute the command with General Montgomery at St. Johns.” We
shall give some further particulars concerning this expedition against
St. Johns, towards which Washington was turning so anxious an eye.
On the 16th of September, the day after Schuyler’s departure for
Ticonderoga, Montgomery proceeded to carry out the plans which had been
concerted between them. Landing on the 17th at the place where they had
formerly encamped, within a mile and a half of the fort, he detached a
force of five hundred men, among whom were three hundred Green Mountain
Boys under Colonel Seth Warner, to take a position at the junction of
two roads leading to Montreal and Chamblee, so as to intercept relief
from those points. He now proceeded to invest St. Johns. A battery was
erected on a point of land commanding the fort, the ship yards and the
armed schooner. Another was thrown up in the woods on the east side of
the fort, at six hundred yards distance, and furnished with two small
mortars. All this was done under an incessant fire from the enemy,
which, as yet, was but feebly returned.
St. Johns had a garrison of five or six hundred regulars and two hundred
Canadian militia. Its commander, Major Preston, made a brave resistance.
Montgomery had not proper battering cannon; his mortars were defective;
his artillerists unpractised, and the engineer ignorant of the first
principles of his art. The siege went on slowly, until the arrival of an
artillery company under Captain Lamb, expedited from Saratoga by General
Schuyler. Lamb, who was an able officer, immediately bedded a
thirteen-inch mortar, and commenced a fire of shot and shells upon the
fort. The distance, however, was too great, and the positions of the
batteries were ill chosen.
A flourishing letter was received by the general from Colonel Ethan
Allen, giving hope of further reinforcement. “I am now,” writes he, “at
the Parish of St. Ours, four leagues from Sorel to the south. I have two
hundred and fifty Canadians under arms. As I march, they gather fast.
You may rely on it, that I shall join you in about three days, with five
hundred or more Canadian volunteers I could raise one or two thousand in
a week’s time; but I will first visit the army with a less number, and,
if necessary, go again recruiting. Those that used to be enemies to our
cause, come cap in hand to me; and I swear by the Lord, I can raise
three times the number of our army in Canada, provided you continue the
siege. * * * The eyes of all America, nay, of Europe, are or will be on
the economy of this army and the consequences attending it.”[13]
Allen was actually on his way toward St. Johns, when, between Longueil
and La Prairie, he met Colonel Brown with his party of Americans and
Canadians. A conversation took place between them. Brown assured him
that the garrison at Montreal did not exceed thirty men, and might
easily be surprised. Allen’s partisan spirit was instantly excited. Here
was a chance for another bold stroke equal to that at Ticonderoga. A
plan was forthwith agreed upon. Allen was to return to Longueil, which
is nearly opposite Montreal, and cross the St. Lawrence in canoes in the
night, so as to land a little below the town. Brown, with two hundred
men, was to cross above, and Montreal was to be attacked simultaneously
at opposite points.
All this was arranged and put in action without the consent or knowledge
of General Montgomery; Allen was again the partisan leader, acting from
individual impulse. His late letter also to General Montgomery, would
seem to have partaken of fanfaronade; for the whole force with which he
undertook his part of this inconsiderate enterprise, was thirty
Americans, and eighty Canadians. With these he crossed the river on the
night of the 24th of September, the few canoes found at Longueil having
to pass to and fro repeatedly, before his petty force could be landed.
Guards were stationed on the roads to prevent any one passing and giving
the alarm in Montreal. Day dawned, but there was no signal of Major
Brown having performed his part of the scheme. The enterprise seems to
have been as ill concerted, as it was ill-advised. The day advanced, but
still no signal; it was evident Major Brown had not crossed. Allen would
gladly have recrossed the river, but it was too late. An alarm had been
given to the town, and he soon found himself encountered by about forty
regular soldiers, and a hasty levy of Canadians and Indians. A smart
action ensued; most of Allen’s Canadian recruits gave way and fled, a
number of Americans were slain, and he at length surrendered to the
British officer, Major Campbell, being promised honorable terms for
himself and thirty-eight of his men, who remained with him, seven of
whom were wounded. The prisoners were marched into the town and
delivered over to General Prescott, the commandant. Their rough
appearance, and rude equipments, were not likely to gain them favor in
the eyes of the military tactician, who doubtless considered them as
little better than a band of freebooters on a maraud. Their leader,
albeit a colonel, must have seemed worthy of the band; for Allen was
arrayed in rough frontier style; a deer-skin jacket, a vest and breeches
of coarse serge, worsted stockings, stout shoes, and a red woollen cap.
We give Allen’s own account of his reception by the British officer. “He
asked me my name, which I told him. He then asked me whether I was that
Colonel Allen who took Ticonderoga, I told him I was the very man. Then
he shook his cane over my head, calling me many hard names, among which,
he frequently used the word rebel, and put himself in a great rage.”[14]
Ethan Allen, according to his own account, answered with becoming
spirit. Indeed he gives somewhat of a melodramatic scene, which ended by
his being sent on board of the Gaspee schooner of war, heavily ironed,
to be transported to England for trial; Prescott giving him the parting
assurance, sealed with an emphatic oath, that he would grace a halter at
Tyburn.
Neither Allen’s courage nor his rhetorical vein deserted him on this
trying occasion. From his place of confinement, he indited the following
epistle to the general:—
“HONORABLE SIR,—In the wheel of transitory events I find myself
prisoner, and in irons. Probably your honor has certain reasons to me
inconceivable, though I challenge an instance of this sort of economy of
the Americans during the late war to any officers of the crown. On my
part, I have to assure your honor, that when I had the command and took
Captain Delaplace and Lieutenant Fulton, with the garrison of
Ticonderoga, I treated them with every mark of friendship and
generosity, the evidence of which is notorious, even in Canada. I have
only to add, that I expect an honorable and humane treatment, as an
officer of my rank and merit should have, and subscribe myself your
honor’s most obedient servant,
“ETHAN ALLEN.”
In the British publication from which we cite the above, the following
note is appended to the letter, probably on the authority of General
Prescott: “N. B.—The author of the above letter is an outlaw, and a
reward is offered by the New York Assembly for apprehending him.”[15]
The reckless dash at Montreal, was viewed with concern by the American
commander. “I am apprehensive of disagreeable consequences arising from
Mr. Allen’s imprudence,” writes General Schuyler. “I always dreaded his
impatience of subordination, and it was not until after a solemn promise
made me in the presence of several officers, that he would demean
himself with propriety, that I would permit him to attend the army; nor
would I have consented then, had not his solicitations been backed by
several officers.”
The conduct of Allen was also severely censured by Washington. “His
misfortune,” said he, “will, I hope, teach a lesson of prudence and
subordination to others who may be ambitious to outshine their general
officers, and, regardless of order and duty, rush into enterprises which
have unfavorable effects on the public, and are destructive to
themselves.”
Partisan exploit had, in fact, inflated the vanity and bewildered the
imagination of Allen, and unfitted him for regular warfare. Still his
name will ever be a favorite one with his countrymen. Even his
occasional rhodomontade will be tolerated with a good-humored smile,
backed as it was by deeds of daring courage; and among the hardy
pioneers of our Revolution whose untutored valor gave the first earnests
of its triumphs, will be remembered, with honor, the rough Green
Mountain partisan, who seized upon the “Keys of Champlain.”
In the letters of Schuyler, which gave Washington accounts, from time to
time, of the preceding events, were sad repinings at his own illness,
and the multiplied annoyances which beset him. “The vexation of spirit
under which I labor,” writes he, “that a barbarous complication of
disorders should prevent me from reaping those laurels for which I have
unweariedly wrought since I was honored with this command; the anxiety I
have suffered since my arrival here (at Ticonderoga), lest the army
should starve, occasioned by a scandalous want of subordination and
inattention to my orders, in some of the officers that I left to command
at the different posts; the vast variety of disagreeable and vexatious
incidents that almost every hour arise in some department or other,—not
only retard my cure, but have put me considerably back for some days
past. If Job had been a general in my situation, his memory had not been
so famous for patience. But the glorious end we have in view, and which
I have confident hope will be attained, will atone for all.” Washington
replied in that spirit of friendship which existed between them. “You do
me justice in believing that I feel the utmost anxiety for your
situation, that I sympathize with you in all your distresses, and shall
most heartily share in the joy of your success. My anxiety extends
itself to poor Arnold, whose fate depends upon the issue of your
campaign. * * * * * The more I reflect upon the importance of your
expedition, the greater is my concern, lest it should sink under
insuperable difficulties. I look upon the interests and salvation of our
bleeding country in a great degree as depending upon your success.”
Shortly after writing the above, and while he was still full of
solicitude about the fate of Arnold, he received a despatch from the
latter, dated October 13th, from the great portage or carrying-place
between the Kennebec and Dead River.
“Your Excellency,” writes Arnold, “may possibly think we have been tardy
in our march, as we have gained so little; but when you consider the
badness and weight of the bateaux, and large quantities of provisions,
&c., we have been obliged to force up against a very rapid stream, where
you would have taken the men for amphibious animals, as they were a
great part of the time under water: add to this the great fatigue in the
portage, you will think I have pushed the men as fast as they could
possibly bear.”
The toils of the expedition up the Kennebec River had indeed been
excessive. Part of the men of each division managed the boats—part
marched along the banks. Those on board had to labor against swift
currents; to unload at rapids; transport the cargoes, and sometimes the
boats themselves, for some distance on their shoulders, and then to
reload. They were days in making their way round stupendous cataracts;
several times their boats were upset and filled with water, to the loss
or damage of arms, ammunition, and provisions.
Those on land had to scramble over rocks and precipices, to struggle
through swamps and fenny streams; or cut their way through tangled
thickets, which reduced their clothes to rags. With all their efforts,
their progress was but from four to ten miles a day. At night the men of
each division encamped together.
By the time they arrived at the place whence the letter was written,
fatigue, swamp fevers and desertion had reduced their numbers to about
nine hundred and fifty effective men. Arnold, however, wrote in good
heart. “The last division,” said he, “is just arrived; three divisions
are over the first carrying-place, and as the men are in high spirits, I
make no doubt of reaching the river Chaudiere in eight or ten days, the
greatest difficulty being, I hope, already past.”
He had some days previously despatched an Indian, whom he considered
trusty, with a letter for General Schuyler, apprising him of his
whereabouts, but as yet had received no intelligence either of, or from
the general, nor did he expect to receive any until he should reach
Chaudiere Pond. There he calculated to meet the return of his express,
and then to determine his plan of operations.
CHAPTER VI.
BRITISH IN BOSTON SEND OUT CRUISERS—DEPREDATIONS OF CAPTAIN WALLACE
ALONG THE COAST—TREASON IN THE CAMP—ARREST OF DR. CHURCH—HIS TRIAL AND
FATE—CONFLAGRATION OF FALMOUTH—IRRITATION THROUGHOUT THE COUNTRY—FITTING
OUT OF VESSELS OF WAR—EMBARKATION OF GENERAL GAGE FOR ENGLAND—COMMITTEE
FROM CONGRESS—CONFERENCES WITH WASHINGTON—RESOLUTIONS OF CONGRESS TO
CARRY ON THE WAR—RETURN OF SECRETARY REED TO PHILADELPHIA.
While the two expeditions were threatening Canada from different
quarters, the war was going on along the seaboard. The British in
Boston, cut off from supplies by land, fitted out small armed vessels to
seek them along the coast of New England. The inhabitants drove their
cattle into the interior, or boldly resisted the aggressors. Parties
landing to forage were often repulsed by hasty levies of the yeomanry.
Scenes of ravage and violence occurred. Stonington was cannonaded, and
further measures of vengeance were threatened by Captain Wallace of the
Rose man-of-war, a naval officer, who had acquired an almost piratical
reputation along the coast, and had his rendezvous in the harbor of
Newport: domineering over the waters of Rhode Island.[16]
About this time there was an occurrence, which caused great excitement
in the armies. A woman, coming from the camp at Cambridge, applied to a
Mr. Wainwood of Newport, Rhode Island, to aid her in gaining access to
Captain Wallace, or Mr. Dudley, the collector. Wainwood, who was a
patriot, drew from her the object of her errand. She was the bearer of a
letter from some one in camp, directed to Major Kane in Boston; but
which she was to deliver either to the captain or the collector.
Suspecting something wrong, he prevailed upon her to leave it with him
for delivery. After her departure he opened the letter. It was written
in cipher, which he could not read. He took it to Mr. Henry Ward,
secretary of the colony. The latter, apprehending it might contain
treasonable information to the enemy, transmitted it to General Greene,
who laid it before Washington.
A letter in cipher, to a person in Boston hostile to the cause, and to
be delivered into the hands of Captain Wallace the nautical
marauder!—there evidently was treason in the camp; but how was the
traitor to be detected? The first step was to secure the woman, the
bearer of the letter, who had returned to Cambridge. Tradition gives us
a graphic scene connected with her arrest. Washington was in his chamber
at head-quarters, when he beheld from his window, General Putnam
approaching on horseback, with a stout woman _en croupe_ behind him. He
had pounced upon the culprit. The group presented by the old general and
his prize, overpowered even Washington’s gravity. It was the only
occasion throughout the whole campaign, on which he was known to laugh
heartily. He had recovered his gravity by the time the delinquent was
brought to the foot of the broad staircase in head-quarters, and assured
her in a severe tone from the head of it, that, unless she confessed
every thing before the next morning, a halter would be in readiness for
her.
So far the tradition;—his own letter to the President of Congress states
that, for a long time, the woman was proof against every threat and
persuasion to discover the author, but at length named Dr. Benjamin
Church. It seemed incredible. He had borne the character of a
distinguished patriot; he was the author of various patriotic writings;
a member of the Massachusetts House of Representatives; one of the
committee deputed to conduct Washington to the army, and at present he
discharged the functions of surgeon-general and director of the
hospitals. That such a man should be in traitorous correspondence with
the enemy, was a thunderstroke. Orders were given to secure him and his
papers. On his arrest he was extremely agitated, but acknowledged the
letter, and said it would be found, when deciphered, to contain nothing
criminal. His papers were searched, but nothing of a treasonable nature
discovered. “It appeared, however, on inquiry,” says Washington, “that a
confidant had been among the papers before my messenger arrived.”
The letter was deciphered. It gave a description of the army. The doctor
made an awkward defence, protesting that he had given an exaggerated
account of the American force, for the purpose of deterring the enemy
from attacking the American lines in their present defenceless condition
from the want of powder. His explanations were not satisfactory. The
army and country were exceedingly irritated. In a council of war he was
convicted of criminal correspondence; he was expelled from the
Massachusetts House of Representatives, and the Continental Congress
ultimately resolved that he should be confined in some secure jail in
Connecticut, without the use of pen, ink, or paper; “and that no person
be allowed to converse with him, except in the presence and hearing of a
magistrate or the sheriff of the county.”
His sentence was afterwards mitigated on account of his health, and he
was permitted to leave the country. He embarked for the West Indies, and
is supposed to have perished at sea.
What had caused especial irritation in the case of Dr. Church, was the
kind of warfare already mentioned, carried on along the coast by British
cruisers, and notoriously by Captain Wallace. To check these maraudings,
and to capture the enemy’s transports laden with supplies, the provinces
of Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut, fitted out two armed
vessels each, at their own expense, without seeking the sanction or aid
of Congress. Washington, also, on his own responsibility, ordered
several to be equipped for like purpose, which were to be manned by
hardy mariners, and commanded by able sea captains, actually serving in
the army. One of these vessels was despatched as soon as ready, to
cruise between Cape Ann and Cape Cod. Two others were fitted out with
all haste, and sent to cruise in the waters of the St. Lawrence, to
intercept two unarmed brigantines which Congress had been informed had
sailed from England for Quebec, with ammunition and military stores.
Among the sturdy little New England seaports, which had become obnoxious
to punishment by resistance to nautical exactions, was Falmouth (now
Portland), in Maine.
On the evening of the 11th of October, Lieutenant Mowat, of the royal
navy, appeared before it with several armed vessels, and sent a letter
on shore, apprising the inhabitants that he was come to execute a just
punishment on them for their “premeditated attacks on the legal
prerogatives of the best of sovereigns.” Two hours were given them, “to
remove the human species out of the town,” at the period of which, a red
pendant hoisted at the main-topgallant masthead, and a gun, would be the
signal for destruction.
The letter brought a deputation of three persons on board. The
lieutenant informed them verbally, that he had orders from Admiral
Graves to set fire to all the seaport towns between Boston and Halifax;
and he expected New York, at the present moment, was in ashes.
With much difficulty, and on the surrendering of some arms, the
committee obtained a respite until nine o’clock the next morning, and
the inhabitants employed the interval in removing their families and
effects. The next morning the committee returned on board before nine
o’clock. The lieutenant now offered to spare the town on certain
conditions, which were refused. About half past nine o’clock the red
pendant was run up to the masthead, and the signal gun fired. Within
five minutes several houses were in flames, from a discharge of
carcasses and bombshells, which continued throughout the day. The
inhabitants, “standing on the heights, were spectators of the
conflagration, which reduced many of them to penury and despair.” One
hundred and thirty-nine dwelling houses, and two hundred and
twenty-eight stores, are said to have been burnt.[17] All the vessels in
the harbor, likewise, were destroyed or carried away as prizes.
Having satisfied his sense of justice with respect to Falmouth, the
gallant lieutenant left it a smoking ruin, and made sail, as was said,
for Boston, to supply himself with more ammunition, having the intention
to destroy Portsmouth also.[18]
The conflagration of Falmouth was as a bale fire throughout the country.
Lieutenant Mowat was said to have informed the committee at that place,
that orders had come from England to burn all the seaport towns that
would not lay down and deliver up their arms, and give hostages for
their good behavior.[19]
Washington himself supposed such to be the case. “The desolation and
misery,” writes he, “which ministerial vengeance had planned, in
contempt of every principle of humanity, and so lately brought on the
town of Falmouth, I know not how sufficiently to commiserate, nor can my
compassion for the general suffering be conceived beyond the true
measure of my feelings.”
General Greene, too, in a letter to a friend, expresses himself with
equal warmth. “O, could the Congress behold the distresses and wretched
condition of the poor inhabitants driven from the seaport towns, it
must, it would, kindle a blaze of indignation against the commissioned
pirates and licensed robbers. * * * People begin heartily to wish a
declaration of independence.”[20]
General Sullivan was sent to Portsmouth, where there was a fortification
of some strength, to give the inhabitants his advice and assistance in
warding off the menaced blow. Newport, also, was put on the alert, and
recommended to fortify itself. “I expect every hour,” writes Washington,
“to hear that Newport has shared the same fate of unhappy Falmouth.”[21]
Under the feeling roused by these reports, the General Court of
Massachusetts, exercising a sovereign power, passed an act for
encouraging the fitting out of armed vessels to defend the sea-coast of
America, and for erecting a court to try and condemn all vessels that
should be found infesting the same. This act, granting letters of marque
and reprisal, anticipated any measure of the kind on the part of the
General Government, and was pronounced by John Adams, “one of the most
important documents in history.”[22]
The British ministry have, in later days, been exculpated from the
charge of issuing such a desolating order as that said to have been
reported by Lieutenant Mowat. The orders under which that officer acted,
we are told, emanated from General Gage and Admiral Graves. The former
intended merely the annoyance and destruction of rebel shipping, whether
on the coast or in the harbors to the eastward of Boston; the burning of
the town is surmised to have been an additional thought of Admiral
Graves. Naval officers have a passion for bombardments.
Whatever part General Gage may have had in this most ill-advised and
discreditable measure, it was the last of his military government, and
he did not remain long enough in the country to see it carried into
effect. He sailed for England on the 10th of October. The tidings of the
battle of Bunker’s Hill had withered his laurels as a commander. Still
he was not absolutely superseded, but called home, “in order,” as it was
considerately said, “to give his majesty exact information of every
thing, and suggest such matters as his knowledge and experience of the
service might enable him to furnish.” During his absence, Major-general
Howe would act as commander-in-chief of the colonies on the Atlantic
Ocean, and Major-general Carleton of the British forces in Canada and on
the frontiers. Gage fully expected to return and resume the command. In
a letter written to the minister, Lord Dartmouth, the day before
sailing, he urged the arrival, early in the spring, of reinforcements
which had been ordered, anticipating great hazard at the opening of the
campaign. In the mean time he trusted that two thousand troops, shortly
expected from Ireland, would enable him “to distress the rebels by
incursions along the coast,”—and—“he hoped Portsmouth in New Hampshire
would feel the weight of his majesty’s arms.” “Poor Gage,” writes Horace
Walpole, “is to be the scape-goat for what was a reason against
employing him—incapacity.” He never returned to America.
On the 15th of October a committee from Congress arrived in camp, sent
to hold a conference with Washington, and with delegates from the
governments of Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts and New
Hampshire, on the subject of a new organization of the army. The
committee consisted of Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Lynch of Carolina, and
Colonel Harrison of Virginia. It was just twenty years since Washington
had met Franklin in Braddock’s camp, aiding that unwary general by his
sagacious counsels and prompt expedients. Franklin was regarded with
especial deference in the camp at Cambridge. Greene, who had never met
with him before, listened to him as to an oracle.
Washington was president of the board of conference, and Mr. Joseph Reed
secretary. The committee brought an intimation from Congress that an
attack upon Boston was much desired, if practicable.
Washington called a council of war of his generals on the subject; they
were unanimously of the opinion that an attack would not be prudent at
present.
Another question now arose. An attack upon the British forces in Boston,
whenever it should take place, might require a bombardment; Washington
inquired of the delegates how far it might be pushed to the destruction
of houses and property. They considered it a question of too much
importance to be decided by them, and said it must be referred to
Congress. But though they declined taking upon themselves the
responsibility, the majority of them were strongly in favor of it; and
expressed themselves so, when the matter was discussed informally in
camp. Two of the committee, Lynch and Harrison, as well as Judge Wales,
delegate from Connecticut, when the possible effects of a bombardment
were suggested at a dinner table, declared that they would be willing to
see Boston in flames. Lee who was present, observed that it was
impossible to burn it unless they sent in men with bundles of straw to
do it. “It could not be done with carcasses and red-hot shot. Isle
Royal,” he added, “in the river St. Lawrence, had been fired at for a
long time in 1760, with a fine train of artillery, hot shot and
carcasses, without effect.”[23]
The board of conference was repeatedly in session, for three or four
days. The report of its deliberations rendered by the committee,
produced a resolution of Congress, that a new army of twenty-two
thousand two hundred and seventy-two men and officers, should be formed,
to be recruited as much as possible from the troops actually in service.
Unfortunately the term for which they were to be enlisted was to be _but
for one year_. It formed a precedent which became a recurring cause of
embarrassment throughout the war.
Washington’s secretary, Mr. Reed, had, after the close of the
conference, signified to him his intention to return to Philadelphia,
where his private concerns required his presence. His departure was
deeply regretted. His fluent pen had been of great assistance to
Washington in the despatch of his multifarious correspondence, and his
judicious counsels and cordial sympathies had been still more
appreciated by the commander-in-chief, amid the multiplied difficulties
of his situation. On the departure of Mr. Reed, his place as secretary
was temporarily supplied by Mr. Robert Harrison of Maryland, and
subsequently by Colonel Mifflin; neither, however, attained to the
affectionate confidence reposed in their predecessor.
We shall have occasion to quote the correspondence kept up between
Washington and Reed, during the absence of the latter. The letters of
the former are peculiarly interesting, as giving views of what was
passing, not merely around him, but in the recesses of his own heart. No
greater proof need be given of the rectitude of that heart, than the
clearness and fulness with which, in these truthful documents, every
thought and feeling is laid open.
CHAPTER VII.
MEASURES OF GENERAL HOWE—DESECRATION OF CHURCHES—THREE
PROCLAMATIONS—SEIZURE OF TORIES—WANT OF ARTILLERY—HENRY KNOX, THE
ARTILLERIST—HIS MISSION TO TICONDEROGA—RE-ENLISTMENT OF TROOPS—LACK OF
PUBLIC SPIRIT—COMMENTS OF GENERAL GREENE.
The measures which General Howe had adopted after taking command in
Boston, rejoiced the royalists, seeming to justify their anticipations.
He proceeded to strengthen the works on Bunker’s Hill and Boston Neck,
and to clear away houses and throw up redoubts on eminences within the
town. The patriot inhabitants were shocked by the desecration of the Old
South Church, which for more than a hundred years had been a favorite
place of worship, where some of the most eminent divines had officiated.
The pulpit and pews were now removed, the floor was covered with earth,
and the sacred edifice was converted into a riding-school for Burgoyne’s
light dragoons. To excuse its desecration, it was spoken of scoffingly
as a “meeting-house, where sedition had often been preached.”
The North Church, another “meeting-house,” was entirely demolished and
used for fuel. “Thus,” says a chronicler of the day, “thus are our
houses devoted to religious worship, profaned and destroyed by the
subjects of his royal majesty.”[24]
About the last of October, Howe issued three proclamations. The first
forbade all persons to leave Boston without his permission under pain of
military execution; the second forbade any one, so permitted, to take
with him more than five pounds sterling, under pain of forfeiting all
the money found upon his person and being subject to fine and
imprisonment; the third called upon the inhabitants to arm themselves
for the preservation of order within the town; they to be commanded by
officers of his appointment.
Washington had recently been incensed by the conflagration of Falmouth;
the conduct of Governor Dunmore who had proclaimed martial law in
Virginia, and threatened ruin to the patriots, had added to his
provocation; the measures of General Howe seemed of the same harsh
character, and he determined to retaliate.
“Would it not be prudent,” writes he to Governor Trumbull of
Connecticut, “to seize those tories who have been, are, and we know will
be active against us? Why should persons who are preying upon the vitals
of their country, be suffered to stalk at large, whilst we know they
will do us every mischief in their power?”
In this spirit he ordered General Sullivan, who was fortifying
Portsmouth, “to seize upon such persons as held commissions under the
crown, and were acting as open and avowed enemies to their country, and
hold them as hostages for the security of the town.” Still he was
moderate in his retaliation, and stopped short of private individuals.
“For the present,” said he, “I shall avoid giving the like order with
regard to the _tories_ of Portsmouth; but the day is not far off when
they will meet with this, or a worse fate, if there is not a
considerable reformation in their conduct.”[25]
The season was fast approaching when the bay between the camp and Boston
would be frozen over, and military operations might be conducted upon
the ice. General Howe, if reinforced, would then very probably “endeavor
to relieve himself from the disgraceful confinement in which the
ministerial troops had been all summer.” Washington felt the necessity,
therefore, of guarding the camps wherever they were most assailable; and
of throwing up batteries for the purpose. He had been embarrassed
throughout the siege by the want of artillery and ordnance stores; but
never more so than at the present moment. In this juncture, Mr. Henry
Knox stepped forward, and offered to proceed to the frontier forts on
Champlain in quest of a supply.
Knox was one of those providential characters which spring up in
emergencies, as if they were formed by and for the occasion. A thriving
bookseller in Boston, he had thrown up business to take up arms for the
liberties of his country. He was one of the patriots who had fought on
Bunker’s Hill, since when he had aided in planning the defences of the
camp before Boston. The aptness and talent here displayed by him as an
artillerist, had recently induced Washington to recommend him to
Congress for the command of the regiment of artillery in place of the
veteran Gridley, who was considered by all the officers of the camp, too
old for active employment. Congress had not yet acted on that
recommendation; in the mean time Washington availed himself of the
offered services of Knox in the present instance. He was, accordingly,
instructed to examine into the state of the artillery in camp, and take
an account of the cannon, mortars, shells, lead and ammunition that were
wanting. He was then to hasten to New York, procure and forward all that
could be had there; and thence proceed to the head-quarters of General
Schuyler, who was requested by letter to aid him in obtaining what
further supplies of the kind were wanting from the forts at Ticonderoga,
Crown Point, St. Johns, and even Quebec, should it be in the hands of
the Americans. Knox set off on his errand with promptness and alacrity,
and shortly afterwards the commission of colonel of the regiment of
artillery which Washington had advised, was forwarded to him by
Congress.
The re-enlistment of troops actually in service was now attempted, and
proved a fruitful source of perplexity. In a letter to the President of
Congress, Washington observes that half of the officers of the rank of
captain were inclined to retire; and it was probable their example would
influence their men. Of those who were disposed to remain, the officers
of one colony were unwilling to mix in the same regiment with those of
another. Many sent in their names, to serve in expectation of promotion;
others stood aloof, to see what advantages they could make for
themselves; while those who had declined sent in their names again to
serve.[26] The difficulties were greater, if possible, with the soldiers
than with the officers. They would not enlist unless they knew their
colonel, lieutenant-colonel and captain; Connecticut men being unwilling
to serve under officers from Massachusetts, and Massachusetts men under
officers from Rhode Island; so that it was necessary to appoint the
officers first.
Twenty days later he again writes to the President of Congress: “I am
sorry to be necessitated to mention to you the egregious want of public
spirit which prevails here. Instead of pressing to be engaged in the
cause of their country, which I vainly flattered myself would be the
case, I find we are likely to be deserted in a most critical time. * * *
Our situation is truly alarming, and of this General Howe is well
apprised. No doubt when he is reinforced he will avail himself of the
information.”
In a letter to Reed he disburdened his heart more completely. “Such
dearth of public spirit, and such want of virtue; such stock-jobbing,
and fertility in all the low arts to obtain advantage of one kind or
another in this great change of military arrangement, I never saw
before, and I pray God’s mercy that I may never be witness to again.
What will be the end of these manœuvres is beyond my scan. I tremble at
the prospect. We have been till this time (Nov. 28) enlisting about
three thousand five hundred men. To engage these, I have been obliged to
allow furloughs as far as fifty men to a regiment, and the officers I am
persuaded indulge many more. The Connecticut troops will not be
prevailed upon to stay longer than their term, saving those who have
enlisted for the next campaign, and are mostly on furlough; and such a
mercenary spirit pervades the whole, that I should not be surprised at
any disaster that may happen. * * * Could I have foreseen what I have
experienced and am likely to experience, no consideration upon earth
should have induced me to accept this command.”
No one drew closer to Washington in this time of his troubles and
perplexities than General Greene. He had a real veneration for his
character, and thought himself “happy in an opportunity to serve under
so good a general.” He grieved at Washington’s annoyances, but
attributed them in part to his being somewhat of a stranger in New
England. “He has not had time,” writes he, “to make himself acquainted
with the genius of this people; they are naturally as brave and spirited
as the peasantry of any other country, but you cannot expect veterans of
a raw militia from only a few months’ service. The common people are
exceedingly avaricious; the genius of the people is commercial, from
their long intercourse with trade. The sentiment of honor, the true
characteristic of a soldier, has not yet got the better of interest. His
Excellency has been taught to believe the people here a superior race of
mortals; and finding them of the same temper and dispositions, passions
and prejudices, virtues and vices of the common people of other
governments, they sank in his esteem.”[27]
CHAPTER VIII.
AFFAIRS IN CANADA—CAPTURE OF FORT CHAMBLEE—SIEGE OF ST. JOHNS—MACLEAN
AND HIS HIGHLANDERS—MONTGOMERY ON THE TREATMENT OF ETHAN ALLEN—REPULSE
OF CARLETON—CAPITULATION OF THE GARRISON OF ST. JOHNS—GENEROUS CONDUCT
OF MONTGOMERY—MACLEAN RE-EMBARKS FOR QUEBEC—WEARY STRUGGLE OF ARNOLD
THROUGH THE WILDERNESS—DEFECTION OF COLONEL ENOS—ARNOLD IN THE VALLEY OF
THE CHAUDIERE—HIS ARRIVAL OPPOSITE QUEBEC—SURRENDER OF MONTREAL—ESCAPE
OF CARLETON—HOME SICKNESS OF THE AMERICAN TROOPS.
Despatches from Schuyler dated October 26th, gave Washington another
chapter of the Canada expedition. Chamblee, an inferior fort, within
five miles of St. Johns, had been taken by Majors Brown and Livingston
at the head of fifty Americans and three hundred Canadians. A large
quantity of gunpowder and other military stores found there, was a
seasonable supply to the army before St. Johns, and consoled General
Montgomery for his disappointment in regard to the aid promised by
Colonel Ethan Allen. He now pressed the siege of St. Johns with vigor.
The garrison, cut off from supplies, were suffering from want of
provisions; but the brave commander, Major Preston, still held out
manfully, hoping speedy relief from General Carleton, who was assembling
troops for that purpose at Montreal.
Carleton, it is true, had but about one hundred regulars several hundred
Canadians, and a number of Indians with him; but he calculated greatly
on the co-operation of Colonel Maclean, a veteran Scot, brave and
bitterly loyal, who had enlisted three hundred of his countrymen at
Quebec, and formed them into a regiment called “The Royal Highland
Emigrants.” This doughty Highlander was to land at the mouth of the
Sorel, where it empties into the St. Lawrence, and proceed along the
former river to St. Johns, to join Carleton, who would repair thither by
the way of Longueil.
In the mean time Montgomery received accounts from various quarters that
Colonel Ethan Allen and his men, captured in the ill-advised attack upon
Montreal, were treated with cruel and unnecessary severity, being loaded
with irons; and that even the colonel himself was subjected to this
“shocking indignity.” Montgomery addressed a letter to Carleton on the
subject, strong and decided in its purport, but written in the spirit of
a courteous and high-minded gentleman, and ending with an expression of
that sad feeling which gallant officers must often have experienced in
this revolutionary conflict, on being brought into collision with former
brothers in arms.
“Your character, sir,” writes he, “induces me to hope I am ill informed.
Nevertheless, the duty I owe the troops committed to my charge, lays me
under the necessity of acquainting your Excellency, that, if you allow
this conduct and persist in it, I shall, though with the most painful
regret, execute with rigor the just and necessary law of retaliation
upon the garrison of Chamblee, now in my possession, and upon all others
who may hereafter fall into my hands. * * * * I shall expect your
Excellency’s answer in six days. Should the bearer not return in that
time, I must interpret your silence into a declaration of a barbarous
war. I cannot pass this opportunity without lamenting the melancholy and
fatal necessity, which obliges the firmest friends of the constitution
to oppose one of the most respectable officers of the crown.”
While waiting for a reply, Montgomery pressed the siege of St. Johns,
though thwarted continually by the want of subordination and discipline
among his troops; hasty levies from various colonies, who, said he,
“carry the spirit of freedom into the field, and think for themselves.”
Accustomed as he had been, in his former military experience, to the
implicit obedience of European troops, the insubordination of these
yeoman soldiery was intolerable to him. “Were I not afraid,” writes he,
“the example would be too generally followed, and that the public
service might suffer, I would not stay an hour at the head of troops
whose operations I cannot direct. I must say I have no hopes of success,
unless from the garrison’s wanting provisions.”
He had advanced his lines and played from his batteries on two sides of
the fort for some hours, when tidings brought by four prisoners, caused
him to cease his fire.
General Carleton, on the 31st of September, had embarked his motley
force at Montreal in thirty-four boats, to cross the St. Lawrence, land
at Longueil, and push on for St. Johns, where, as concerted, he was to
be joined by Maclean and his Highlanders. As the boats approached the
right bank of the river at Longueil, a terrible fire of artillery and
musketry was unexpectedly opened upon them, and threw them into
confusion. It was from Colonel Seth Warner’s detachment of Green
Mountain Boys and New Yorkers. Some of the boats were disabled, some
were driven on shore on an island; Carleton retreated with the rest to
Montreal, with some loss in killed and wounded. The Americans captured
two Canadians and two Indians; and it was these prisoners who brought
tidings to the camp of Carleton’s signal repulse.
Aware that the garrison held out merely in expectation of the relief
thus intercepted, Montgomery ceased his fire, and sent a flag by one of
the Canadian prisoners with a letter informing Major Preston of the
event, and inviting a surrender to spare the effusion of blood.
Preston in reply expressed a doubt of the truth of the report brought by
the prisoners, but offered to surrender if not relieved in four days.
The condition was refused and the gallant major was obliged to
capitulate. His garrison consisted of five hundred regulars and one
hundred Canadians; among the latter were several of the provincial
noblesse.
Montgomery treated Preston and his garrison with the courtesy inspired
by their gallant resistance. He had been a British officer himself, and
his old associations with the service, made him sympathize with the
brave men whom the fortune of war had thrown into his hands. Perhaps,
their high-bred and aristocratic tone contrasted favorably in his eyes,
with the rough demeanor of the crude swordsmen with whom he had recently
associated, and brought back the feelings of early days, when war with
him was a gay profession, not a melancholy duty. According to
capitulation, the baggage of both officers and men was secured to them,
and each of the latter received a new suit of clothing from the captured
stores. This caused a murmur among the American soldiery, many of whom
were nearly naked, and the best but scantily provided. Even some of the
officers were indignant that all the articles of clothing had not been
treated as lawful spoil. “I would not have sullied my own reputation,
nor disgraced the Continental arms by such a breach of capitulation for
the universe,” said Montgomery. Having sent his prisoners up Lake
Champlain to Ticonderoga, he prepared to proceed immediately to
Montreal; requesting General Schuyler to forward all the men he could
possibly spare.
The royal Highland Emigrants who were to have co-operated with General
Carleton, met with no better fortune than that commander. Maclean landed
at the mouth of the Sorel, and added to his force by recruiting a number
of Canadians in the neighborhood, at the point of the bayonet. He was in
full march for St. Johns when he was encountered by Majors Brown and
Livingston with their party, fresh from the capture of Chamblee, and
reinforced by a number of Green Mountain Boys. These pressed him back to
the mouth of the Sorel, where, hearing of the repulse of Carleton, and
being deserted by his Canadian recruits, he embarked the residue of his
troops, and set off down the St. Lawrence to Quebec. The Americans now
took post at the mouth of the Sorel, where they erected batteries so as
to command the St. Lawrence, and prevent the descent of any armed
vessels from Montreal.
Thus closed another chapter of the invasion of Canada. “Not a word of
Arnold yet,” said Montgomery, in his last despatch. “I have sent two
expresses to him lately, one by an Indian who promised to return with
expedition. The instant I have any news of him, I will acquaint you by
express.”
We will anticipate his express, by giving the reader the purport of
letters received by Washington direct from Arnold himself, bringing
forward the collateral branch of this eventful enterprise.
The transportation of troops and effects across the carrying-place
between the Kennebec and Dead Rivers, had been a work of severe toil and
difficulty to Arnold and his men, but performed with admirable spirit.
There were ponds and streams full of trout and salmon, which furnished
them with fresh provisions. Launching their boats on the sluggish waters
of the Dead River, they navigated it in divisions, as before, to the
foot of snow-crowned mountains; a part of the great granite chain which
extends from south-west to north-east throughout our continent. Here,
while Arnold and the first division were encamped to repose themselves,
heavy rains set in, and they came near being swept away by sudden
torrents from the mountains. Several of their boats were overturned,
much of their provisions was lost, the sick list increased, and the good
spirits which had hitherto sustained them began to give way. They were
on scanty allowance, with a prospect of harder times, for there were
still twelve or fifteen days of wilderness before them, where no
supplies were to be had. A council of war was now held, in which it was
determined to send back the sick and disabled, who were mere
incumbrances. Arnold, accordingly, wrote to the commanders of the other
divisions, to press on with as many of their men as they could furnish
with provisions for fifteen days, and to send the rest back to a place
on the route called Norridgewock. This order was misunderstood, or
misinterpreted by Colonel Enos, who commanded the rear division; he gave
all the provisions he could spare to Colonel Greene of the third
division, retaining merely enough to supply his own corps of three
hundred men on their way back to Norridgewock, whither he immediately
returned.
Letters from Arnold and Enos apprised Washington of this grievous flaw
in the enterprise. He regarded it, however, as usual, with a hopeful
eye. “Notwithstanding this great defection,” said he, “I do not despair
of Colonel Arnold’s success. He will have, in all probability, many more
difficulties to encounter, than if he had been a fortnight sooner; as it
is likely that Governor Carleton will, with what forces he can collect
after the surrender of the rest of Canada, throw himself into Quebec,
and there make his last effort.”[28]
Washington was not mistaken in the confidence he had placed in the
energy of Arnold. Though the latter found his petty force greatly
reduced by the retrograde move of Enos and his party, and although snow
and ice rendered his march still more bleak among the mountains, he kept
on with unflinching spirit until he arrived at the ridge which divides
the streams of New England and Canada. Here, at Lake Megantic, the
source of the Chaudiere, he met an emissary whom he had sent in advance
to ascertain the feelings of the _habitans_, or French yeomanry, in the
fertile valley of that stream. His report being favorable, Arnold shared
out among the different companies the scanty provisions which remained,
directing them to make the best of their way for the Chaudiere
settlements; while he, with a light foraging party, would push rapidly
ahead, to procure and send back supplies.
He accordingly embarked with his little party in five bateaux and a
birch canoe, and launched forth without a guide on the swift current of
the Chaudiere. It was little better than a mountain torrent, full of
rocks and rapids. Three of their boats were dashed to pieces, the
cargoes lost, and the crews saved with difficulty. At one time, the
whole party came near being precipitated over a cataract, where all
might have perished; at length they reached Sertigan, the first French
settlement, where they were cordially received. Here Arnold bought
provisions, which he sent back by the Canadians and Indians to his
troops. The latter were in a state of starvation. Some had not tasted
food for eight and forty hours; others had cooked two dogs, followers of
the camp; and others had boiled their moccasins, cartouch boxes, and
other articles of leather, in the hope of rendering them eatable.
Arnold halted for a short time in the hospitable valley of the
Chaudiere, to give his troops repose, and distributed among the
inhabitants the printed manifesto with which he had been furnished by
Washington. Here he was joined by about forty Norridgewock Indians. On
the 9th of November, the little army emerged from the woods at Point
Levi, on the St. Lawrence, opposite to Quebec. A letter written by an
inhabitant of that place, speaks of their sudden apparition.
“There are about 500 Provincials arrived at Point Levi, opposite to the
town, by the way of Chaudiere across the woods. Surely a miracle must
have been wrought in their favor. It is an undertaking above the common
race of men in this debauched age. They have travelled through woods and
bogs, and over precipices, for the space of one hundred and twenty
miles, attended with every inconvenience and difficulty, to be
surmounted only by men of indefatigable zeal and industry.”
Leaving Arnold in full sight of Quebec, which, after his long struggle
through the wilderness, must have appeared like a land of promise; we
turn to narrate the events of the upper expedition into Canada, of which
the letters of Schuyler kept Washington faithfully informed.
Montgomery appeared before Montreal on the 12th of November. General
Carleton had embarked with his little garrison, and several of the civil
officers of the place, on board of a flotilla of ten or eleven small
vessels, and made sail in the night, with a favorable breeze, carrying
away with him the powder and other important stores. The town
capitulated, of course; and Montgomery took quiet possession. His
urbanity and kindness soon won the good will of the inhabitants, both
English and French, and made the Canadians sensible that he really came
to secure their rights, not to molest them. Intercepted letters
acquainted him with Arnold’s arrival in the neighborhood of Quebec, and
the great alarm of “the king’s friends,” who expected to be besieged:
“which, with the blessing of God, they shall be,” said Montgomery, “if
the severe season holds off, and I can prevail on the troops to
accompany me.”
His great immediate object was the capture of Carleton; which would form
a triumphal close to the enterprise, and might decide the fate of
Canada. The flotilla in which the general was embarked, had made
repeated attempts to escape down the St. Lawrence; but had as often been
driven back by the batteries thrown up by the Americans at the mouth of
the Sorel. It now lay anchored about fifteen miles above that river; and
Montgomery prepared to attack it with bateaux and light artillery, so as
to force it down upon the batteries.
Carleton saw his imminent peril. Disguising himself as a Canadian
voyager, he set off on a dark night accompanied by six peasants, in a
boat with muffled oars, which he assisted to pull; slipped quietly and
silently past all the batteries and guard-boats, and effected his escape
to Three Rivers, where he embarked in a vessel for Quebec. After his
departure the flotilla surrendered, and all those who had taken refuge
on board were made prisoners of war. Among them was General Prescott,
late commander of Montreal.
Montgomery now placed garrisons in Montreal, St. Johns and Chamblee, and
made final preparations for descending the St. Lawrence, and
co-operating with Arnold against Quebec. To his disappointment and deep
chagrin, he found but a handful of his troops disposed to accompany him.
Some pleaded ill health; the term of enlistment of many had expired, and
they were bent on returning home; and others, who had no such excuses to
make, became exceedingly turbulent, and indeed mutinous. Nothing but a
sense of public duty, and gratitude to Congress for an unsought
commission, had induced Montgomery to engage in the service; wearied by
the continual vexations which beset it, he avowed, in a letter to
Schuyler, his determination to retire as soon as the intended expedition
against Quebec was finished. “Will not your health permit you to reside
at Montreal this winter?” writes he to Schuyler; “I must go home, if I
walk by the side of the lake. I am weary of power, and totally want that
patience and temper so requisite for such a command.” Much of the
insubordination of the troops he attributed to the want of tact and
cultivation in their officers; who had been suddenly advanced from
inferior stations and coarse employments. “An affair happened
yesterday,” writes he to Schuyler on the 24th of November, “which had
very near sent me home. A number of officers presumed to remonstrate
against the indulgence I had given some of the king’s troops. Such an
insult I could not bear, and immediately resigned. To-day they qualified
it by such an apology, as put it in my power to resume the command.” In
the same spirit he writes: “I wish some method could be fallen upon for
engaging _gentlemen_ to serve. A point of honor and more knowledge of
the world, to be found in that class of men, would greatly reform
discipline, and render the troops much more tractable.”
The troops which had given Montgomery so much annoyance and refused to
continue with him in Canada, soon began to arrive at Ticonderoga.
Schuyler, in a letter to Congress, gives a half querulous, half humorous
account of their conduct. “About three hundred of the troops raised in
Connecticut, passed here within a few days. An unhappy home sickness
prevails. These all came down as invalids, not one willing to re-engage
for the winter’s service; and, unable to get any work done by them, I
discharged them _en groupe_. Of all the specifics ever invented for
_any_, there is none so efficacious as a discharge for _this_ prevailing
disorder. No sooner was it administered but it perfected the cure of
nine out of ten; who, refusing to wait for boats to go by the way of
Lake George, slung their heavy packs, crossed the lake at this place,
and undertook a march of two hundred miles with the greatest good will
and alacrity.”
This home sickness in rustic soldiers after a rough campaign, was
natural enough, and seems only to have provoked the testy and subacid
humor of Schuyler; but other instances of conduct roused his
indignation.
A schooner and tow galley arrived at Crown Point, with upwards of a
hundred persons. They were destitute of provisions; none were to be had
at the Point, and the ice prevented them from penetrating to
Ticonderoga. In starving condition they sent an express to General
Schuyler, imploring relief. He immediately ordered three captains of
General Wooster’s regiment, with a considerable body of men in bateaux,
to “attempt a relief for the unhappy sufferers.” To his surprise and
disgust, they manifested the utmost unwillingness to comply, and made a
variety of excuses, which he spurned at as frivolous, and as evincing
the greatest want of humanity. He expressed himself to that effect the
next day, in a general order, adding the following stinging words: “The
general, therefore, not daring to trust a matter of so much importance
to men of so little feeling, has ordered Lieutenant Riker, of Col.
Holmes’s regiment, to make the attempt. He received the order with the
alacrity becoming a gentleman, an officer, and a Christian.”
This high-minded rebuke, given in so public a manner, rankled in the
breasts of those whose conduct had merited it, and insured to Schuyler
that persevering hostility with which mean minds revenge the exposure of
their meanness.
CHAPTER IX.
WASHINGTON’S ANTICIPATIONS OF SUCCESS AT QUEBEC—HIS EULOGIUM OF
ARNOLD—SCHUYLER AND MONTGOMERY TALK OF RESIGNING—EXPOSTULATIONS OF
WASHINGTON—THEIR EFFECT—SCHUYLER’S CONDUCT TO A CAPTIVE FOE.
We have endeavored to compress into a succinct account various events of
the invasion of Canada, furnished to Washington by letters from Schuyler
and Arnold. The tidings of the capture of Montreal had given him the
liveliest satisfaction. He now looked forward to equal success in the
expedition against Quebec. In a letter to Schuyler, he passed a high
eulogium on Arnold. “The merit of this gentleman is certainly great,”
writes he, “and I heartily wish that fortune may distinguish him as one
of her favorites. I am convinced that he will do every thing that
prudence and valor shall suggest to add to the success of our arms, and
for reducing Quebec to our possession. Should he not be able to
accomplish so desirable a work with the forces he has, I flatter myself
that it will be effected when General Montgomery joins him, and our
conquest of Canada will be complete.”
Certain passages of Schuyler’s letters, however, gave him deep concern,
wherein that general complained of the embarrassments and annoyances he
had experienced from the insubordination of the army. “Habituated to
order,” said he, “I cannot without pain see that disregard of
discipline, confusion and inattention, which reign so generally in this
quarter, and I am determined to retire. Of this resolution I have
advised Congress.”
He had indeed done so. In communicating to the President of Congress the
complaints of General Montgomery, and his intention to retire, “my
sentiments,” said he, “exactly coincide with his. I shall, with him, do
every thing in my power to put a finishing stroke to the campaign, and
make the best arrangement in my power, in order to insure success to the
next. This done, I must beg leave to retire.”
Congress, however, was too well aware of his value, readily to dispense
with his services. His letter produced a prompt resolution expressive of
their high sense of his attention and perseverance, “which merited the
thanks of the United Colonies.” He had alleged his impaired health,—they
regretted the injuries it had sustained in the service, but begged he
would not insist on a measure “which would deprive America of the
benefits of his zeal and abilities, and rob him of the honor of
completing the work he had so happily begun.”
What, however, produced a greater effect upon Schuyler than any encomium
or entreaty on the part of Congress, were the expostulations of
Washington, inspired by strong friendship and kindred sympathies. “I am
exceedingly sorry,” writes the latter, “to find you so much embarrassed
by the disregard of discipline, confusion, and want of order among the
troops, as to have occasioned you to mention to Congress an inclination
to retire. I know that your complaints are too well founded, but would
willingly hope that nothing will induce you to quit the service. * * * *
I have met with difficulties of the same sort, and such as I never
expected; but they must be borne with. The cause we are engaged in is so
just and righteous, that we must try to rise superior to every obstacle
in its support; and, therefore, I beg that you will not think of
resigning, unless you have carried your application to Congress too far
to recede.”
And in another letter he makes a still stronger appeal to his
patriotism. “I am sorry that you, and General Montgomery, incline to
quit the service. Let me ask you, sir, when is the time for brave men to
exert themselves in the cause of liberty and their country, if this is
not? Should any difficulties that they may have to encounter at this
important crisis deter them? God knows there is not a difficulty that
you both very justly complain of, that I have not in an eminent degree
experienced, that I am not every day experiencing; but we must bear up
against them, and make the best of mankind, as they are, since we cannot
have them as we wish. Let me, therefore, conjure you, and Mr.
Montgomery, to lay aside such thoughts—as thoughts injurious to
yourselves, and extremely so to your country, which calls aloud for
gentlemen of your ability.”
This noble appeal went straight to the heart of Schuyler, and brought
out a magnanimous reply. “I do not hesitate,” writes he, “to answer my
dear general’s question in the affirmative, by declaring that now or
never is the time for every virtuous American to exert himself in the
cause of liberty and his country; and that it is become a duty
cheerfully to sacrifice the sweets of domestic felicity to attain the
honest and glorious end America has in view.”
In the same letter he reveals in confidence the true cause of his wish
to retire from an official station; it was the annoyance he had suffered
throughout the campaign from sectional prejudice and jealousy. “I could
point out particular persons of rank in the army,” writes he, “who have
frequently declared that the general commanding in this quarter, ought
to be of the colony from whence the majority of the troops came. But it
is not from opinions or principles of individuals that I have drawn the
following conclusion: that troops from the colony of Connecticut will
not bear with a general from another colony; it is from the daily and
common conversation of all ranks of people from that colony, both in and
out of the army; and I assure you that I sincerely lament that people of
so much public virtue should be actuated by such an unbecoming jealousy,
founded on such a narrow principle.” Having made this declaration, he
adds, “although I frankly own that I feel a resentment, yet I shall
continue to sacrifice it to a nobler object, the weal of that country in
which I have drawn the breath of life, resolved ever to seek, with
unwearied assiduity, for opportunities to fulfil my duty to it.”
It is with pride we have quoted so frequently the correspondence of
these two champions of our Revolution, as it lays open their hearts, and
shows the lofty patriotism by which they were animated.
A letter from John Adams to General Thomas, alleges as one cause of
Schuyler’s unpopularity with the eastern troops, the “politeness” shown
by him to Canadian and British prisoners; which “enabled them and their
ministerial friends to impose upon him.”[29]
The “politeness” in fact, was that noble courtesy which a high-minded
soldier extends towards a captive foe. If his courtesy was imposed upon,
it only proved that, incapable of doubledealing himself, he suspected it
not in others. All generous natures are liable to imposition; their warm
impulses being too quick for selfish caution. It is the cold, the
calculating and the mean, whose distrustful wariness is never taken in.
CHAPTER X.
DIFFICULTIES IN FILLING UP THE ARMY—THE CONNECTICUT TROOPS PERSIST IN
GOING HOME—THEIR RECEPTION THERE—TIMELY ARRIVAL OF SPOILS IN THE
CAMP—PUTNAM AND THE PRIZE MORTAR—A MARAUD BY AMERICANS—REBUKED BY
WASHINGTON—CORRESPONDENCE OF WASHINGTON WITH GEN. HOWE ABOUT THE
TREATMENT OF ETHAN ALLEN—FRATERNAL ZEAL OF LEVI ALLEN—TREATMENT OF GEN.
PRESCOTT—PREPARATIONS TO BOMBARD BOSTON—BATTERY AT LECHMERE’S
POINT—PRAYER OF PUTNAM FOR POWDER.
The forming even of the skeleton of an army under the new regulations,
had been a work of infinite difficulty; to fill it up was still more
difficult. The first burst of revolutionary zeal had passed away;
enthusiasm had been chilled by the inaction and monotony of a long
encampment; an encampment, moreover, destitute of those comforts which,
in experienced warfare, are provided by a well-regulated commissariat.
The troops had suffered privations of every kind, want of fuel,
clothing, provisions. They looked forward with dismay to the rigors of
winter, and longed for their rustic homes and their family firesides.
Apprehending that some of them would incline to go home when the time of
their enlistment expired, Washington summoned the general officers at
head-quarters, and invited a delegation of the General Court to be
present, to adopt measures for the defence and support of the lines. The
result of their deliberations was an order that three thousand of the
minute men and militia of Massachusetts, and two thousand from New
Hampshire, should be at Cambridge by the 10th of December, to relieve
the Connecticut regiments, and supply the deficiency that would be
caused by their departure, and by the absence of others on furlough.
With this arrangement the Connecticut troops were made acquainted, and,
as the time of most of them would not be out before the 10th, they were
ordered to remain in camp until relieved. Their officers assured
Washington that he need apprehend no defection on the part of their men;
they would not leave the lines. The officers themselves were probably
mistaken in their opinion of their men, for on the 1st of December, many
of the latter, some of whom belonged to Putnam’s regiment, resolved to
go home immediately. Efforts were made to prevent them, but in vain;
several carried off with them their arms and ammunition. Washington sent
a list of their names to Governor Trumbull. “I submit it to your
judgment,” writes he, “whether an example should not be made of these
men who have deserted the cause of their country at this critical
juncture, when the enemy are receiving reinforcements?”
We anticipate the reply of Governor Trumbull, received several days
subsequently. “The late extraordinary and reprehensible conduct of some
of the troops of this colony,” writes he, “impresses me, and the minds
of many of our people, with great surprise and indignation, since the
treatment they met with, and the order and request made to them, were so
reasonable, and apparently necessary for the defence of our common
cause, and safety of our rights and privileges, for which they freely
engaged.”
We will here add, that the homeward-bound warriors seem to have run the
gauntlet along the road; for their conduct on quitting the army drew
upon them such indignation, that they could hardly get any thing to eat
on their journey, and when they arrived at home they met with such a
reception (to the credit of the Connecticut women be it recorded), that
many were soon disposed to return again to the camp.[30]
On the very day after the departure homeward of these troops, and while
it was feared their example would be contagious, a long, lumbering train
of waggons, laden with ordnance and military stores, and decorated with
flags, came wheeling into the camp escorted by continental troops and
country militia. They were part of the cargo of a large brigantine laden
with munitions of war, captured and sent in to Cape Ann by the schooner
Lee, Captain Manly, one of the cruisers sent out by Washington. “Such
universal joy ran through the whole camp,” writes an officer, “as if
each one grasped a victory in his own hands.”
Beside the ordnance captured, there were two thousand stand of arms, one
hundred thousand flints, thirty thousand round shot, and thirty-two tons
of musket balls.
“Surely nothing,” writes Washington, “ever came more _apropos_.”
It was indeed a cheering incident, and was eagerly turned to account.
Among the ordnance was a huge brass mortar of a new construction,
weighing near three thousand pounds. It was considered a glorious
trophy, and there was a resolve to christen it. Mifflin, Washington’s
secretary, suggested the name. The mortar was fixed in a bed; old Putnam
mounted it, dashed on it a bottle of rum, and gave it the name of
Congress. The shouts which rent the air were heard in Boston. When the
meaning of them was explained to the British, they observed, that
“should their expected reinforcements arrive in time, the rebels would
pay dear in the spring for all their petty triumphs.”
With Washington, this transient gleam of nautical success was soon
overshadowed by the conduct of the cruisers he had sent to the St.
Lawrence. Failing to intercept the brigantines, the objects of their
cruise, they landed on the island of St. Johns, plundered the house of
the governor and several private dwellings, and brought off three of the
principal inhabitants prisoners; one of whom, Mr. Callbeck, was
president of the council, and acted as governor.
These gentlemen made a memorial to Washington of this scandalous maraud.
He instantly ordered the restoration of the effects which had been
pillaged;—of his conduct towards the gentlemen personally, we may judge
by the following note addressed to him by Mr. Callbeck.
“I should ill deserve the generous treatment which your Excellency has
been pleased to show me, had I not the gratitude to acknowledge so great
a favor. I cannot ascribe any part of it to my own merit, but must
impute the whole to the philanthropy and humane disposition that so
truly characterize General Washington. Be so obliging, therefore, as to
accept the only return in my power, that of my most grateful
thanks.”[31]
Shortly after the foregoing occurrence, information was received of the
indignities which had been heaped upon Colonel Ethan Allen, when
captured at Montreal by General Prescott, who, himself, was now a
prisoner in the hands of the Americans. It touched Washington on a point
on which he was most sensitive and tenacious, the treatment of American
officers when captured; and produced the following letter from him to
General Howe:
“SIR,—We have just been informed of a circumstance which, were it not so
well authenticated, I should scarcely think credible. It is that Colonel
Allen, who, with his small party, was defeated and made prisoner near
Montreal, has been treated without regard to decency, humanity, or the
rules of war; that he has been thrown into irons, and suffers all the
hardships inflicted upon common felons.
“I think it my duty, sir, to demand, and do expect from you, an
eclaircissement on this subject. At the same time, I flatter myself,
from the character which Mr. Howe bears as a man of honor, gentleman and
soldier, that my demand will meet with his approbation. I must take the
liberty, also, of informing you that I shall consider your silence as a
confirmation of the report, and further assuring you, that whatever
treatment Colonel Allen receives, whatever fate he undergoes, such
exactly shall be the treatment and fate of Brigadier Prescott, now in
our hands. The law of retaliation is not only justifiable in the eyes of
God and man, but absolutely a duty, which, in our present circumstances,
we owe to our relations, friends and fellow-citizens.
“Permit me to add, sir, that we have all here the highest regard and
reverence for your great personal qualities and attainments, and the
Americans in general esteem it as not the least of their misfortunes,
that the name of Howe, a name so dear to them, should appear at the head
of the catalogue of the instruments employed by a wicked ministry for
their destruction.”
General Howe felt acutely the sorrowful reproach in the latter part of
the letter. It was a reiteration of what had already been expressed by
Congress; in the present instance it produced irritation, if we may
judge from the reply.
“SIR,—In answer to your letter, I am to acquaint you that my command
does not extend to Canada. Not having any accounts wherein the name of
Allen is mentioned, I cannot give you the smallest satisfaction upon the
subject of your letter. But trusting Major-general Carleton’s conduct
will never incur censure upon any occasion, I am to conclude in the
instance of your inquiry, that he has not forfeited his past pretensions
to decency and humanity.
“It is with regret, considering the character you have always maintained
among your friends, as a gentleman of the strictest honor and delicacy,
that I find cause to resent a sentence in the conclusion of your letter,
big with invective against my superiors, and insulting to myself, which
should obstruct any further intercourse between us. I am, sir, &c.”
In transmitting a copy of his letter to the President of Congress,
Washington observed: “My reason for pointing out Brigadier-general
Prescott as the object, who is to suffer for Mr. Allen’s fate, is, that
by letters from General Schuyler and copies of letters from General
Montgomery to Schuyler, I am given to understand that Prescott is the
cause of Allen’s sufferings. I thought it best to be decisive on the
occasion, as did the generals whom I consulted thereon.”
For the sake of continuity we will anticipate a few facts connected with
the story of Ethan Allen. Within a few weeks after the preceding
correspondence, Washington received a letter from Levi Allen, a brother
to the colonel, and of like enterprising and enthusiastic character. It
was dated from Salisbury in Connecticut; and enclosed affidavits of the
harsh treatment his brother had experienced, and of his being confined
on board of the Gaspec, “with a bar of iron fixed to one of his legs and
iron to his hands.” Levi was bent upon effecting his deliverance, and
the mode proposed was in unison with the bold but wild schemes of the
colonel. We quote his crude, but characteristic letter.
“Have some thoughts of going to England _incognito_, after my brother;
but am not positively certain he is sent there, though believe he is.
Beg your excellency will favor me with a line, and acquaint me if any
intelligence concerning him, and if your excellency please, your opinion
of the expediency of going after him, and whether your excellency would
think proper to advance any money for that purpose, as my brother was a
man blessed with more fortitude than fortune. Your excellency may think,
at first thought, I can do nothing by going to England; I feel as if I
could do a great deal, by raising a mob in London, bribing the jailer,
or by getting into some servile employment with the jailer, and
over-faithfulness make myself master of the key, or at least be able to
lay my hand on it some night. I beg your excellency will countenance my
going; can muster more than one hundred pounds, my own property; shall
regard spending that no more than one copper. Your excellency must know
Allen was not only a brother, but a real friend that sticketh closer
than a brother.”
In a postscript he adds, “cannot live without going to England, if my
brother is sent there.”
In reply, Washington intimated a belief that the colonel had been sent
to England, but discountenanced Levi’s wild project of following him
thither; as there was no probability of its success, and he would be
running himself into danger without a prospect of rendering service to
his brother.
The measure of retaliation mentioned in Washington’s letter to Howe, was
actually meted out by Congress on the arrival of General Prescott in
Philadelphia. He was ordered into close confinement in the jail; though
not put in irons. He was subsequently released from confinement, on
account of ill health, and was treated by some Philadelphia families
with unmerited hospitality.[32]
At the time of the foregoing correspondence with Howe, Washington was
earnestly occupied preparing works for the bombardment of Boston, should
that measure be resolved upon by Congress. General Putnam, in the
preceding month, had taken possession in the night of Cobble Hill
without molestation from the enemy, though a commanding eminence; and in
two days had constructed a work, which, from its strength, was named
Putnam’s impregnable fortress.
He was now engaged on another work on Lechmere Point, to be connected
with the works at Cobble Hill by a bridge thrown across Willis’s Creek,
and a covered way. Lechmere Point is immediately opposite the north part
of Boston; and the Scarborough ship-of-war was anchored near it. Putnam
availed himself of a dark and foggy day (Dec. 17), to commence
operations, and broke ground with four hundred men, at ten o’clock in
the morning, on a hill at the Point. “The mist,” says a contemporary
account, “was so great as to prevent the enemy from discovering what he
was about until near twelve o’clock, when it cleared up, and opened to
their view our whole party at the Point, and another at the causeway
throwing a bridge over the creek. The Scarborough, anchored off the
Point, poured in a broadside. The enemy from Boston threw shells. The
garrison at Cobble Hill returned fire. Our men were obliged to decamp
from the Point, but the work was resumed by the brave old general at
night.”
On the next morning, a cannonade from Cobble Hill obliged the
Scarborough to weigh anchor, and drop down below the ferry; and General
Heath was detached with a party of men to carry on the work which Putnam
had commenced. The enemy resumed their fire. Sentinels were placed to
give notice of a shot or shell; the men would crouch down or dodge it,
and continue on with their work. The fire ceased in the afternoon, and
Washington visited the hill accompanied by several officers, and
inspected the progress of the work. It was to consist of two redoubts,
on one of which was to be a mortar battery. There was, as yet, a
deficiency of ordnance; but the prize mortar was to be mounted which
Putnam had recently christened, “The Congress.” From the spirit with
which the work was carried on, Washington trusted that it would soon be
completed, “and then,” said he, “if we have powder to sport with, and
Congress gives the word, Boston can be bombarded from this point.”
For several days the labor at the works was continued; the redoubts were
thrown up, and a covered way was constructed leading down to the bridge.
All this was done notwithstanding the continual fire of the enemy. The
letter of a British officer gives his idea of the efficiency of the
work.
“The rebels for some days past have been erecting a battery on Phipps’
Farm. The new constructed mortar taken on board the ordnance brig, we
are told, will be mounted upon it, and we expect a warm salute from the
shells, another part of that vessel’s cargo; so that, in spite of her
capture, we are likely to be complimented with the contents of her
lading.”
“If the rebels can complete their battery, this town will be on fire
about our ears a few hours after; all our buildings being of wood, or a
mixture of brick and wood-work. Had the rebels erected their battery on
the other side of the town, at Dorchester, the admiral and all his booms
would have made the first blaze, and the burning of the town would have
followed. If we cannot destroy the rebel battery by our guns, we must
march out and take it sword in hand.”
Putnam anticipated great effects from this work, and especially from his
grand mortar, “The Congress.” Shells there were in abundance for a
bombardment; the only thing wanting was a supply of powder. One of the
officers, writing of the unusual mildness of the winter, observes:
“Every thing thaws here except old Put. He is still as hard as ever,
crying out for powder—powder—powder. Ye gods, give us powder!”
CHAPTER XI.
MOUNT VERNON IN DANGER—MRS. WASHINGTON INVITED TO THE CAMP—LUND
WASHINGTON, THE GENERAL’S AGENT—TERMS ON WHICH HE SERVES—INSTRUCTED TO
KEEP UP THE HOSPITALITY OF THE HOUSE—JOURNEY OF MRS. WASHINGTON TO
CAMP—HER EQUIPAGE AND LIVERIES—ARRIVAL AT CAMP—DOMESTIC AFFAIRS AT
HEAD-QUARTERS—GAYETIES IN CAMP—A BRAWL BETWEEN ROUND JACKETS AND RIFLE
SHIRTS.
Amid the various concerns of the war, and the multiplied perplexities of
the camp, the thoughts of Washington continually reverted to his home on
the banks of the Potomac. A constant correspondence was kept up between
him and his agent, Mr. Lund Washington, who had charge of his various
estates. The general gave clear and minute directions as to their
management, and the agent rendered as clear and minute returns of every
thing that had been done in consequence.
According to recent accounts, Mount Vernon had been considered in
danger. Lord Dunmore was exercising martial law in the Ancient Dominion,
and it was feared that the favorite abode of the “rebel
commander-in-chief” would be marked out for hostility, and that the
enemy might land from their ships in the Potomac, and lay it waste.
Washington’s brother, John Augustine, had entreated Mrs. Washington to
leave it. The people of Loudoun had advised her to seek refuge beyond
the Blue Ridge, and had offered to send a guard to escort her. She had
declined the offer, not considering herself in danger. Lund Washington
was equally free from apprehensions on the subject. “Lord Dunmore,”
writes he, “will hardly himself venture up this river, nor do I believe
he will send on that errand. You may depend I will be watchful, and upon
the least alarm persuade her to move.”
Though alive to every thing concerning Mount Vernon, Washington agreed
with them in deeming it in no present danger of molestation by the
enemy. Still he felt for the loneliness of Mrs. Washington’s situation,
heightened as it must be by anxiety on his own account. On taking
command of the army, he had held out a prospect to her, that he would
rejoin her at home in the autumn; there was now a probability of his
being detained before Boston all winter. He wrote to her, therefore, by
express, in November, inviting her to join him at the camp. He at the
same time wrote to Lund Washington, engaging his continued services as
an agent. This person, though bearing the same name, and probably of the
same stock, does not appear to have been in any near degree of
relationship. Washington’s letter to him gives a picture of his domestic
policy.
“I will engage for the year coming, and the year following, if these
troubles and my absence continue, that your wages shall be standing and
certain at the highest amount that any one year’s crop has produced you
yet. I do not offer this as any temptation to induce you to go on more
cheerfully in prosecuting those schemes of mine. I should do injustice
to you were I not to acknowledge, that your conduct has ever appeared to
me above every thing sordid; but I offer it in consideration of the
great charge you have upon your hands, and my entire dependence upon
your fidelity and industry.
“It is the greatest, indeed it is the only comfortable reflection I
enjoy on this score, that my business is in the hands of a person
concerning whose integrity I have not a doubt, and on whose care I can
rely. Were it not for this, I should feel very unhappy on account of the
situation of my affairs. But I am persuaded you will do for me as you
would for yourself.”
The following were his noble directions concerning Mount Vernon.
“Let the hospitality of the house with respect to the poor be kept up.
Let no one go hungry away. If any of this kind of people should be in
want of corn, supply their necessaries, provided it does not encourage
them to idleness; and I have no objection to your giving my money in
charity to the amount of forty or fifty pounds a year, when you think it
well bestowed. What I mean by having no objection is, that it is my
desire it should be done. You are to consider that neither myself nor
wife, is now in the way to do those good offices.”
Mrs. Washington came on with her own carriage and horses, accompanied by
her son, Mr. Custis, and his wife. She travelled by very easy stages,
partly on account of the badness of the roads, partly out of regard to
the horses, of which Washington was always very careful, and which were
generally remarkable for beauty and excellence. Escorts and guards of
honor attended her from place to place, and she was detained some time
at Philadelphia, by the devoted attention of the inhabitants.
Her arrival at Cambridge was a glad event in the army. Incidental
mention is made of the equipage in which she appeared there. A chariot
and four, with black postilions in scarlet and white liveries. It has
been suggested that this was an English style of equipage, derived from
the Fairfaxes; but in truth it was a style still prevalent at that day
in Virginia.
It would appear that dinner invitations to head-quarters, were becoming
matters of pride and solicitude. “I am much obliged to you,” writes
Washington to Reed, “for the hints respecting the jealousies which you
say are gone abroad. I cannot charge myself with incivility, or what in
my opinion is tantamount, ceremonious civility to gentlemen of this
colony; but if such my conduct appears, I will endeavor at a
reformation; as I can assure you, my dear Reed, that I wish to walk in
such a line as will give most general satisfaction. You know that it was
my wish at first to invite a certain number to dinner, but
unintentionally we somehow or other missed of it. If this has given rise
to the jealousy, I can only say that I am very sorry for it; at the same
time I add, that it was rather owing to inattention, or more properly,
too much attention to other matters, which caused me to neglect it.”
And in another letter:
“My constant attention to the great and perplexing objects which
continually arise to my view, absorbs all lesser considerations; and,
indeed, scarcely allows me to reflect that there is such a body as the
General Court of this colony, but when I am reminded of it by a
committee; nor can I, upon recollection, discover in what instance I
have been inattentive to, or slighted them. They could not surely
conceive that there was a propriety in unbosoming the secrets of the
army to them; that it was necessary to ask their opinion in throwing up
an intrenchment or forming a battalion. It must be, therefore, what I
before hinted to you; and how to remedy it I hardly know, as I am
acquainted with few of the members, never go out of my own lines, nor
see any of them in them.”
The presence of Mrs. Washington soon relieved the general from this kind
of perplexity. She presided at head-quarters with mingled dignity and
affability. We have an anecdote or two of the internal affairs of
head-quarters, furnished by the descendant of one who was an occasional
inmate there.
Washington had prayers morning and evening, and was regular in his
attendance at the church in which he was a communicant. On one occasion,
for want of a clergyman, the Episcopal service was read by Colonel
William Palfrey, one of Washington’s aides-de-camp; who substituted a
prayer of his own composition in place of the one formerly offered up
for the king.
Not long after her arrival in camp, Mrs. Washington claimed to keep
twelfth-night in due style, as the anniversary of her wedding. “The
general,” says the same informant, “was somewhat thoughtful, and said he
was afraid he must refuse it.” His objections were overcome, and
twelfth-night and the wedding anniversary were duly celebrated.
There seems to have been more conviviality at the quarters of some of
the other generals; their time and minds were less intensely engrossed
by anxious cares, having only their individual departments to attend to.
Adjutant-general Mifflin’s house appears to have been a gay one. “He was
a man of education, ready apprehension and brilliancy,” says Graydon;
“had spent some time in Europe, particularly in France, and was very
easy of access, with the manners of genteel life, though occasionally
evolving those of the Quaker.”[33]
Mrs. Adams gives an account of an evening party at his house. “I was
very politely entertained and noticed by the generals,” writes she,
“more especially General Lee, who was very urgent for me to tarry in
town, and dine with him and the ladies present at Hobgoblin Hall; but I
excused myself. The general was determined that I should not only be
acquainted with him, but with his companions too; and therefore placed a
chair before me, into which he ordered Mr. Spada (his dog) to mount, and
present his paw to me for a better acquaintance. I could not do
otherwise than accept it.”[34]
John Adams, likewise, gives us a picture of festivities at
head-quarters, where he was a visitant on the recess of Congress.
“I dined at Col. Mifflin’s with the general (Washington) and lady, and a
vast collection of other company, among whom were six or seven sachems
and warriors of the French Caughnawaga Indians, with their wives and
children. A savage feast they made of it; yet were very polite in the
Indian style. I was introduced to them by the general as one of the
grand council at Philadelphia, which made them prick up their ears. They
came and shook hands with me.”[35]
While giving these familiar scenes and occurrences at the camp, we are
tempted to subjoin one furnished from the manuscript memoir of an eye
witness. A large party of Virginia riflemen, who had recently arrived in
camp, were strolling about Cambridge, and viewing the collegiate
buildings, now turned into barracks. Their half-Indian equipments, and
fringed and ruffled hunting garbs, provoked the merriment of some troops
from Marblehead, chiefly fishermen and sailors, who thought nothing
equal to the round jacket and trowsers. A bantering ensued between them.
There was snow upon the ground, and snowballs began to fly when jokes
were wanting. The parties waxed warm with the contest. They closed, and
came to blows both sides were reinforced, and in a little while at least
a thousand were at fisticuffs, and there was a tumult in the camp worthy
of the days of Homer. “At this juncture,” writes our informant,
“Washington made his appearance, whether by accident or design, I never
knew. I saw none of his aides with him; his black servant just behind
him mounted. He threw the bridle of his own horse into his servant’s
hands, sprang from his seat, rushed into the thickest of the melée,
seized two tall brawny riflemen by the throat, keeping them at
arm’s-length, talking to and shaking them.”
As they were from his own province, he may have felt peculiarly
responsible for their good conduct; they were engaged, too, in one of
those sectional brawls which were his especial abhorrence; his reprimand
must, therefore, have been a vehement one. He was commanding in his
serenest moments, but irresistible in his bursts of indignation. On the
present occasion, we are told, his appearance and strong-handed rebuke
put an instant end to the tumult. The combatants dispersed in all
directions, and in less than three minutes none remained on the ground
but the two he had collared.
The veteran who records this exercise of military authority, seems at a
loss which most to admire, the simplicity of the process or the vigor
with which it was administered. “Here,” writes he, “bloodshed,
imprisonments, trials by court-martial, revengeful feelings between the
different corps of the army, were happily prevented by the physical and
mental energies of a single person, and the only damage resulting from
the fierce encounter was, a few torn hunting frocks and round
jackets.”[36]
CHAPTER XII.
AFFAIRS IN CANADA—ARNOLD AT POINT LEVI—QUEBEC REINFORCED—CROSSING OF THE
ST. LAWRENCE—LANDING IN WOLFE’S COVE—ARNOLD ON THE HEIGHTS OF
ABRAHAM—CAUTIOUS COUNSEL—QUEBEC AROUSED—THE INVADERS BAFFLED—WITHDRAW TO
POINT AUX TREMBLES—BOOMING OF CANNON—CARLETON AT QUEBEC—LETTER OF
WASHINGTON TO ARNOLD.
We again turn from the siege of Boston, to the invasion of Canada, which
at that time shared the anxious thoughts of Washington. His last
accounts of the movements of Arnold, left him at Point Levi, opposite to
Quebec. Something brilliant from that daring officer was anticipated. It
was his intention to cross the river immediately. Had he done so, he
might have carried the town by a _coup de main_; for terror as well as
disaffection prevailed among the inhabitants. At Point Levi, however, he
was brought to a stand; not a boat was to be found there. Letters which
he had despatched some days previously, by two Indians, to Generals
Schuyler and Montgomery, had been carried by his faithless messengers,
to Caramhe, the lieutenant-governor, who, thus apprised of the impending
danger, had caused all the boats of Point Levi to be either removed or
destroyed.
Arnold was not a man to be disheartened by difficulties. With great
exertions he procured about forty birch canoes from the Canadians and
Indians, with forty of the latter to navigate them; but stormy winds
arose, and for some days the river was too boisterous for such frail
craft. In the mean time the garrison at Quebec was gaining strength.
Recruits arrived from Nova Scotia. The veteran Maclean, too, who had
been driven from the mouth of the Sorel by the detachment under Brown
and Livingston, arrived down the river with his corps of Royal Highland
Emigrants, and threw himself into the place. The Lizard frigate, the
Hornet sloop-of-war, and two armed schooners were stationed in the
river, and guard-boats patrolled at night. The prospect of a successful
attack upon the place was growing desperate.
On the 13th of November, Arnold received intelligence that Montgomery
had captured St. Johns. He was instantly roused to emulation. His men,
too, were inspirited by the news. The wind had abated: he determined to
cross the river that very night. At a late hour in the evening he
embarked with the first division, principally riflemen. The river was
wide; the current rapid; the birch canoes, easy to be upset, required
skilful management. By four o’clock in the morning, a large part of his
force had crossed without being perceived, and landed about a mile and a
half above Cape Diamond, at Wolfe’s Cove, so called from being the
landing-place of that gallant commander.
Just then a guard-boat, belonging to the Lizard, came slowly along shore
and discovered them. They hailed it, and ordered it to land. Not
complying, it was fired into, and three men were killed. The boat
instantly pulled for the frigate, giving vociferous alarm.
Without waiting the arrival of the residue of his men, for whom the
canoes had been despatched, Arnold led those who had landed to the foot
of the cragged defile, once scaled by the intrepid Wolfe, and scrambled
up it in all haste. By daylight he had planted his daring flag on the
far-famed Heights of Abraham.
Here the main difficulty stared him in the face. A strong line of walls
and bastions traversed the promontory from one of its precipitous sides
to the other; enclosing the upper and lower towns. On the right, the
great bastion of Cape Diamond crowned the rocky height of that name. On
the left was the bastion of La Potasse, close by the gate of St. Johns
opening upon the barracks; the gate where Wolfe’s antagonist, the
gallant Montcalm, received his death wound.
A council of war was now held. Arnold, who had some knowledge of the
place, was for dashing forward at once and storming the gate of St.
Johns. Had they done so, they might have been successful. The gate was
open and unguarded. Through some blunder and delay, a message from the
commander of the Lizard to the lieutenant-governor had not yet been
delivered, and no alarm had reached the fortress.
The formidable aspect of the place, however, awed Arnold’s associates in
council. They considered that their whole force was but between seven
and eight hundred men; that nearly one third of their fire-arms had been
rendered useless, and much of their ammunition damaged in their march
through the wilderness; they had no artillery, and the fortress looked
too strong to be carried by a _coup de main_. Cautious counsel is often
fatal to a daring enterprise. While the council of war deliberated, the
favorable moment passed away. The lieutenant-governor received the tardy
message. He hastily assembled the merchants, officers of militia, and
captains of merchant vessels. All promised to stand by him; he had
strong distrust, however, of the French part of the population and the
Canadian militia; his main reliance was on Colonel Maclean and his Royal
Highland Emigrants.
The din of arms now resounded through the streets. The cry was up—“The
enemy are on the Heights of Abraham! The gate of St. Johns is open!”
There was an attempt to shut it. The keys were not to be found. It was
hastily secured by ropes and handspikes, and the walls looking upon the
heights were soon manned by the military, and thronged by the populace.
Arnold paraded his men within a hundred yards of the walls, and caused
them to give three hearty cheers; hoping to excite a revolt in the
place, or to provoke the scanty garrison to a sally. There were a few
scattered cheerings in return; but the taunting bravado failed to
produce a sortie; the governor dared not venture beyond the walls with
part of his garrison, having too little confidence in the loyalty of
those who would remain behind. There was some firing on the part of the
Americans, but merely as an additional taunt; they were too far off for
their musketry to have effect. A large cannon on the ramparts was
brought to bear on them, and matches were procured from the Lizard, with
which to fire it off. A few shots obliged the Americans to retire and
encamp.
In the evening Arnold sent a flag, demanding in the name of the United
Colonies the surrender of the place. Some of the disaffected and the
faint-hearted were inclined to open the gates, but were held in check by
the mastiff loyalty of Maclean. The veteran guarded the gate with his
Highlanders; forbade all communication with the besiegers, and fired
upon their flag as an ensign of rebellion.
Several days elapsed. Arnold’s flags of truce were repeatedly insulted,
but he saw the futility of resenting it, and attacking the place with
his present means. The inhabitants gradually recovered from their alarm,
and armed themselves to defend their property. The sailors and marines
proved a valuable addition to the garrison, which now really meditated a
sortie.
Arnold received information of all this from friends within the walls;
he heard about the same time of the capture of Montreal, and that
General Carleton, having escaped from that place, was on his way down to
Quebec. He thought at present, therefore, to draw off on the 19th to
_Point aux Trembles_ (Aspen-tree Point), twenty miles above Quebec,
there to await the arrival of General Montgomery with troops and
artillery. As his little army wended its way along the high bank of the
river towards its destined encampment, a vessel passed below, which had
just touched at Point aux Trembles. On board of it was General Carleton,
hurrying on to Quebec.
It was not long before the distant booming of artillery told of his
arrival at his post, where he resumed a stern command. He was unpopular
among the inhabitants; even the British merchants and other men of
business, were offended by the coldness of his manners, and his
confining his intimacy to the military and the Canadian noblesse. He was
aware of his unpopularity, and looked round him with distrust; his first
measure was to turn out of the place all suspected persons, and all who
refused to aid in its defence. This caused a great “trooping out of
town,” but what was lost in numbers was gained in strength. With the
loyally disposed who remained, he busied himself in improving the
defences.
Of the constant anxiety, yet enduring hope, with which Washington
watched this hazardous enterprise, we have evidence in his various
letters. To Arnold, when at Point Levi, baffled in the expectation of
finding the means of making a dash upon Quebec, he writes: “It is not in
the power of any man to command success, but you have done more, you
have deserved it; and before this time (Dec. 5th), I hope you have met
with the laurels which are due to your toils, in the possession of
Quebec.
“I have no doubt but a junction of your detachment with the army under
General Montgomery, is effected before this. If so, you will put
yourself under his command, and will, I am persuaded, give him all the
assistance in your power, to finish the glorious work you have begun.”
CHAPTER XIII.
LORD DUNMORE—HIS PLANS OF HARASSING VIRGINIA—LEE’S POLICY RESPECTING
TORY GOVERNORS AND PLACEMEN—RHODE ISLAND HARASSED BY WALLACE AND HIS
CRUISERS, AND INFESTED BY TORIES—LEE SENT TO ITS RELIEF—HIS VIGOROUS
MEASURES—THE ARMY DISBANDING—WASHINGTON’S PERPLEXITIES—SYMPATHY OF
GENERAL GREENE—HIS LOYALTY IN TIME OF TROUBLE—THE CRISIS—CHEERING NEWS
FROM CANADA—GLOOMY OPENING OF THE NEW YEAR—NEWS FROM COLONEL KNOX.
In the month of December a vessel had been captured, bearing supplies
from Lord Dunmore, to the army at Boston. A letter on board, from his
lordship to General Howe, invited him to transfer the war to the
southern colonies; or, at all events, to send reinforcements thither;
intimating at the same time his plan of proclaiming liberty to
indentured servants, negroes, and others appertaining to rebels, and
inviting them to join his majesty’s troops. In a word,—to inflict upon
Virginia the horrors of a servile war.
“If this man is not crushed before spring,” writes Washington, “he will
become the most formidable enemy America has. His strength will increase
as a snowball. * * * Motives of resentment actuate his conduct to a
degree equal to the destruction of the colony.”
General Lee took the occasion to set forth his own system of policy,
which was particularly rigid wherever men in authority and tories were
concerned. It was the old grudge against ministers and their adherents
set on edge.
“Had my opinion been thought worthy of attention,” would he say, “Lord
Dunmore would have been disarmed of his teeth and claws.” He would have
seized Tryon too, “and all his tories at New York,” and, having struck
the stroke, would have applied to Congress for approbation.
“I propose the following measures,” would he add: “To seize every
governor, government man, placeman, tory and enemy to liberty on the
continent, to confiscate their estates; or at least lay them under heavy
contributions for the public. Their persons should be secured, in some
of the interior towns, as hostages for the treatment of those of our
party, whom the fortune of war shall throw into their hands; they should
be allowed a reasonable pension out of their fortunes for their
maintenance.”[37]
Such was the policy advocated by Lee in his letters and conversation,
and he soon had an opportunity of carrying it partly into operation.
Rhode Island had for some time past been domineered over by Captain
Wallace of the royal navy; who had stationed himself at Newport with an
armed vessel, and obliged the place to furnish him with supplies.
Latterly he had landed in Conanicut Island, opposite to Newport, with a
number of sailors and marines, plundered and burnt houses, and driven
off cattle for the supply of the army. In his exactions and maraudings,
he was said to have received countenance from the tory part of the
inhabitants. It was now reported that a naval armament was coming from
Boston against the island. In this emergency, the governor (Cooke) wrote
to Washington, requesting military aid, and an efficient officer to put
the island in a state of defence, suggesting the name of General Lee for
the purpose.
Lee undertook the task with alacrity. “I sincerely wish,” said
Washington, “he may be able to do it with effect; as that place, in its
present state, is an asylum for such as are disaffected to American
liberty.”
Lee set out for Rhode Island with his guard and a party of riflemen, and
at Providence was joined by the cadet company of that place, and a
number of minute men. Preceded by these, he entered the town of Newport
on Christmas day, in military style. While there, he summoned before him
a number of persons who had supplied the enemy; some according to a
convention originally made between Wallace and the authorities, others,
as it was suspected, through tory feelings. All were obliged by Lee to
take a test oath of his own devising, by which they “religiously swore
that they would neither directly, nor indirectly, assist the wicked
instruments of ministerial tyranny and villainy commonly called the
king’s troops and navy, by furnishing them with provisions and
refreshments.” They swore, moreover, to “denounce all traitors before
the public authority, and to take arms in defence of American liberty,
whenever required by Congress or the provincial authority.” Two
custom-house officers, and another person, who refused to take the oath,
were put under guard and sent to Providence. Having laid out works, and
given directions for fortifications, Lee returned to camp after an
absence of ten days. Some of his proceedings were considered too
high-handed, and were disapproved by Congress. Lee made light of
legislative censures. “One must not be trammelled by laws in war time,”
said he; “in a revolution, all means are legal.”
Washington approved of his measures. “I have seen General Lee since his
expedition,” writes he, “and hope Rhode Island will derive some
advantage from it. I am told that Captain Wallace’s ships have been
supplied for some time by the town of Newport, on certain conditions
stipulated between him and the committee. * * * I know not what
pernicious consequences may result from a precedent of this sort. Other
places, circumstanced as Newport is, may follow the example, and by that
means their whole fleet and army will be furnished with what it highly
concerns us to keep from them. * * * Vigorous regulations, and such as
at another time would appear extraordinary, are now become absolutely
necessary for preserving our country against the strides of tyranny,
making against it.”[38]
December had been throughout a month of severe trial to Washington;
during which he saw his army dropping away piecemeal before his eyes.
Homeward every face was turned as soon as the term of enlistment was at
an end. Scarce could the disbanding troops be kept a few days in camp
until militia could be procured to supply their place. Washington made
repeated and animated appeals to their patriotism; they were almost
unheeded. He caused popular and patriotic songs to be sung about the
camp. They passed by like the idle wind. Home! home! home! throbbed in
every heart. “The desire of retiring into a chimney-corner,” says
Washington reproachfully, “seized the troops as soon as their terms
expired.”
Can we wonder at it? They were for the most part yeomanry, unused to
military restraint, and suffering all the hardships of a starveling
camp, almost within sight of the smoke of their own firesides.
Greene, throughout this trying month, was continually by Washington’s
side. His letters expressing the same cares and apprehensions, and
occasionally in the same language with those of the commander-in-chief,
show how completely he was in his councils. He could well sympathize
with him in his solicitudes. Some of his own Rhode Island troops were
with Arnold in his Canada expedition. Others encamped on Prospect Hill,
and whose order and discipline had been his pride, were evincing the
prevalent disposition to disband. “They seem to be so sick of this way
of life, and so homesick,” writes he, “that I fear the greater part of
the best troops from our colony will soon go home.” To provide against
such a contingency, he strengthened his encampment, so that, “if the
soldiery should not engage as cheerfully as he expected, he might defend
it with a less number.”[39]
Still he was buoyant and cheerful; frequently on his white horse about
Prospect Hill, haranguing his men, and endeavoring to keep them in good
humor. “This is no time for disgusting the soldiery,” would he say,
“when their aid is so essential to the preservation of the rights of
human nature and the liberties of America.”
He wore the same cheery aspect to the commander-in-chief; or rather he
partook of his own hopeful spirit. “I expect,” would he say, “the army,
notwithstanding all the difficulties we meet with, will be full in about
six weeks.”
It was this loyalty in time of trouble; this buoyancy under depression,
this thorough patriotism, which won for him the entire confidence of
Washington.
The thirty-first of December arrived, the crisis of the army; for with
that month expired the last of the old terms of enlistment. “We never
have been so weak,” writes Greene, “as we shall be to-morrow, when we
dismiss the old troops.” On this day Washington received cheering
intelligence from Canada. A junction had taken place, a month
previously, between Arnold and Montgomery at Point aux Trembles. They
were about two thousand strong, and were making every preparation for
attacking Quebec. Carleton was said to have with him but about twelve
hundred men, the majority of whom were sailors. It was thought that the
French would give up Quebec, if they could get the same conditions that
were granted to the inhabitants of Montreal.[40]
Thus the year closed upon Washington with a ray of light from Canada,
while all was doubt around him.
On the following morning (January 1st, 1776), his army did not amount to
ten thousand men, and was composed of but half-filled regiments. Even in
raising this inadequate force, it had been necessary to indulge many of
the men with furloughs, that they might visit their families and
friends. The expedients resorted to in equipping the army, show the
prevailing lack of arms. Those soldiers who retired from service, were
obliged to leave their weapons for their successors; receiving their
appraised value. Those who enlisted, were required to bring a gun, or
were charged a dollar for the use of one during the campaign. He who
brought a blanket was allowed two dollars. It was impossible to furnish
uniforms; the troops, therefore, presented a motley appearance, in
garments of divers cuts and colors; the price of each man’s garb being
deducted from his pay.
The detachments of militia from the neighboring provinces which replaced
the disbanding troops, remained but for brief periods; so that, in
despite of every effort, the lines were often but feebly manned, and
might easily have been forced.
The anxiety of Washington, in this critical state of the army, may be
judged from his correspondence with Reed. “It is easier to conceive than
to describe the situation of my mind for some time past, and my feelings
under our present circumstances,” writes he on the 4th of January.
“Search the volumes of history through, and I much question whether a
case similar to ours is to be found; namely, to maintain a post against
the power of the British troops for six months together, without powder,
and then to have one army disbanded and another raised within the same
distance (musket shot) of a reinforced enemy. What may be the issue of
the last manœuvre, time only can unfold. I wish this month were well
over our head. * * * We are now left with a good deal less than
half-raised regiments, and about five thousand militia, who only stand
engaged to the middle of this month; when, according to custom, they
will depart, let the necessity of their stay be ever so urgent. Thus,
for more than two months past, I have scarcely emerged from one
difficulty before I have been plunged in another. How it will end, God,
in his great goodness, will direct. I am thankful for his protection to
this time. We are told that we shall soon get the army completed, but I
have been told so many things which have never come to pass, that I
distrust every thing.”
In a subsequent letter to Mr. Reed, he reverts to the subject, and pours
forth his feelings with confiding frankness. What can be more touching
than the picture he draws of himself and his lonely vigils about his
sleeping camp? “The reflection on my situation and that of this army,
produces many an unhappy hour, when all around me are wrapped in sleep.
Few people know the predicament we are in on a thousand accounts; fewer
still will believe, if any disaster happens to these lines, from what
cause it flows. I have often thought how much happier I should have
been, if, instead of accepting the command, under such circumstances, I
had taken my musket on my shoulder and entered the ranks; or, if I could
have justified the measure to posterity and my own conscience, had
retired to the back country and lived in a wigwam. If I shall be able to
rise superior to these and many other difficulties, which might be
enumerated, I shall most religiously believe that the finger of
Providence is in it, to blind the eyes of our enemies; for surely if we
get well through this month, it must be for want of their knowing the
disadvantages which we labor under.”
Recurring to the project of an attack upon Boston, which he had
reluctantly abandoned in deference to the adverse opinions of a council
of war—“Could I have foreseen the difficulties which have come upon us;
could I have known that such a backwardness would have been discovered
among the old soldiers to the service, all the generals upon earth
should not have convinced me of the propriety of delaying an attack upon
Boston till this time. When it can now be attempted, I will not
undertake to say; but thus much I will answer for, that no opportunity
can present itself earlier than my wishes.”
In the midst of his discouragements, Washington received letters from
Knox, showing the spirit and energy with which he was executing his
mission, in quest of cannon and ordnance stores. He had struggled
manfully and successfully with all kinds of difficulties from the
advanced season, and head winds, in getting them from Ticonderoga to the
head of Lake George. “Three days ago,” writes he, on the 17th of
December, “it was very uncertain whether we could get them over until
next spring; but now, please God, they shall go. I have made forty-two
exceedingly strong sleds, and have provided eighty yoke of oxen to drag
them as far as Springfield, where I shall get fresh cattle to take them
to camp.”
It was thus that hardships and emergencies were bringing out the merits
of the self-made soldiers of the Revolution; and showing their
commander-in-chief on whom he might rely.
CHAPTER XIV.
MILITARY PREPARATIONS IN BOSTON—A SECRET EXPEDITION—ITS OBJECT—LEE’S
PLAN FOR THE SECURITY OF NEW YORK—OPINION OF ADAMS ON THE
SUBJECT—INSTRUCTIONS TO LEE—TRANSACTIONS OF LEE IN CONNECTICUT—LEE’S
POLICY IN REGARD TO THE TORIES—UNEASINESS IN NEW YORK—LETTER OF THE
COMMITTEE OF SAFETY TO LEE—HIS REPLY—HIS OPINION OF THE PEOPLE OF
CONNECTICUT—OF THE HYSTERICAL LETTER FROM THE NEW YORK CONGRESS.
Early in the month of January, there was a great stir of preparation in
Boston harbor. A fleet of transports were taking in supplies, and making
arrangements for the embarkation of troops. Bomb-ketches and
flat-bottomed boats were getting ready for sea, as were two
sloops-of-war, which were to convey the armament. Its destination was
kept secret; but was confidently surmised by Washington.
In the preceding month of October, a letter had been laid before
Congress, written by some person in London of high credibility, and
revealing a secret plan of operations said to have been sent out by
ministers to the commanders in Boston. The following is the purport:
Possession was to be gained of New York and Albany, through the
assistance of Governor Tryon, on whose influence with the tory part of
the population, much reliance was placed. These cities were to be very
strongly garrisoned. All who did not join the king’s forces were to be
declared rebels. The Hudson River, and the East River or Sound, were to
be commanded by a number of small men-of-war and cutters, stationed in
different parts, so as wholly to cut off all communication by water
between New York and the provinces to the northward of it; and between
New York and Albany, except for the king’s service; and to prevent,
also, all communication between the city of New York and the provinces
of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and those to the southward of them. “By
these means,” said the letter, “the administration and their friends
fancy they shall soon either starve out or retake the garrisons of Crown
Point and Ticonderoga, and open and maintain a safe intercourse and
correspondence between Quebec, Albany and New York; and thereby offer
the fairest opportunity to their soldiery and the Canadians, in
conjunction with the Indians to be procured by Guy Johnson, to make
continual irruptions into New Hampshire, Massachusetts and Connecticut,
and so distract and divide the Provincial forces, as to render it easy
for the British army at Boston to defeat them, break the spirits of the
Massachusetts people, depopulate their country, and compel an absolute
subjection to Great Britain.”[41]
It was added that a lord, high in the American department, had been very
particular in his inquiries about the Hudson River; what sized vessels
could get to Albany; and whether, if batteries were erected in the
Highlands, they would not control the navigation of the river, and
prevent vessels from going up and down.
This information had already excited solicitude respecting the Hudson,
and led to measures for its protection. It was now surmised that the
expedition preparing to sail from Boston, and which was to be conducted
by Sir Henry Clinton, might be destined to seize upon New York. How was
the apprehended blow to be parried? General Lee, who was just returned
from his energetic visit to Rhode Island, offered his advice and
services in the matter. In a letter to Washington, he urged him to act
at once, and on his own responsibility, without awaiting the tardy and
doubtful sanction of Congress, for which, in military matters, Lee had
but small regard.
“New York must be secured,” writes he, “but it will never, I am afraid,
be secured by due order of the Congress, for obvious reasons. They find
themselves awkwardly situated on this head. You must step in to their
relief. I am sensible no man can be spared from the lines under present
circumstances; but I would propose that you should detach me into
Connecticut, and lend your name for collecting a body of volunteers. I
am assured that I shall find no difficulty in assembling a sufficient
number for the purposes wanted. This body, in conjunction (if there
should appear occasion to summon them) with the Jersey regiment under
the command of Lord Stirling, now at Elizabethtown, will effect the
security of New York, and the expulsion or suppression of that dangerous
banditti of tories, who have appeared on Long Island, with the professed
intention of acting against the authority of Congress. Not to crush
these serpents before their rattles are grown would be ruinous.
“This manœuvre, I not only think prudent and right, but absolutely
necessary to our salvation; and if it meets, as I ardently hope it will,
with your approbation, the sooner it is entered upon the better; the
delay of a single day may be fatal.”
Washington, while he approved of Lee’s military suggestions, was
cautious in exercising the extraordinary powers so recently vested in
him, and fearful of transcending them. John Adams was at that time in
the vicinity of the camp, and he asked his opinion as to the
practicability and expediency of the plan, and whether it “might not be
regarded as beyond his line.”
Adams, resolute of spirit, thought the enterprise might easily be
accomplished by the friends of liberty in New York, in connection with
the Connecticut people, “who are very ready,” said he, “upon such
occasions.”
As to the expediency, he urged the vast importance, in the progress of
this war, of the city and province of New York, and the Hudson River,
being the _nexus_ of the northern and southern colonies, a kind of key
to the whole continent, as it is a passage to Canada, to the Great
Lakes, and to all the Indian nations. No effort to secure it ought to be
omitted.
That it was within the limits of Washington’s command, he considered
perfectly clear, he being “vested with full power and authority, to act
as he should think for the good and welfare of the service.”
If there was a body of people on Long Island, armed to oppose the
American system of defence, and furnishing supplies to the British army
and navy, they were invading American liberty as much as those besieged
in Boston.
If, in the city of New York, a body of tories were waiting only for a
force to protect them, to declare themselves on the side of the enemy,
it was high time that city was secured.[42]
Thus fortified, as it were, by congressional sanction, through one of
its most important members, who pronounced New York as much within his
command as Massachusetts; he gave Lee authority to carry out his plans.
He was to raise volunteers in Connecticut; march at their head to New
York; call in military aid from New Jersey; put the city and the posts
on the Hudson, in a posture of security against surprise; disarm all
persons on Long Island and elsewhere, inimical to the views of Congress,
or secure them in some other manner if necessary; and seize upon all
medicines, shirts and blankets, and send them on for the use of the
American army.
Lee departed on his mission on the 8th of January. On the 16th, he was
at New Haven, railing at the indecision of Congress. They had ordered
the enlistment of troops for the security of New York. A Connecticut
regiment under Colonel Waterbury had been raised, equipped, and on the
point of embarking for Oyster Bay, on Long Island, to attack the tories,
who were to be attacked on the other side by Lord Stirling, “when
suddenly,” says Lee, “Colonel Waterbury received an order to disband his
regiment; and the tories are to remain unmolested till they are joined
by the king’s assassins.”
Trumbull, the governor of Connecticut, however, “like a man of sense and
spirit,” had ordered the regiment to be reassembled, and Lee trusted it
would soon be ready to march with him. “I shall send immediately,” said
he, “an express to the Congress, informing them of my situation, and at
the same time, conjuring them not to suffer the accursed Provincial
Congress of New York to defeat measures so absolutely necessary to
salvation.”
Lee’s letter to the President of Congress, showed that the instructions
dictated by the moderate and considerate spirit of Washington, were not
strong enough on some points, to suit his stern military notions. The
scheme, simply of disarming the tories, seemed to him totally
ineffectual; it would only embitter their minds, and add virus to their
venom. They could and would always be supplied with fresh arms by the
enemy. That of seizing the most dangerous, would, from its vagueness, be
attended with some bad consequences, and could answer no good one. “The
plan of explaining to these deluded people the justice of the American
cause, is certainly generous and humane,” observed he; “but I am afraid
will be fruitless. They are so riveted in their opinions, that I am
persuaded, should an angel descend from heaven with his golden trumpet,
and ring in their ears that their conduct was criminal, he would be
disregarded.”
Lee’s notion of the policy proper in the present case was, to disarm the
disaffected of all classes, supplying our own troops with the arms thus
seized; to appraise their estates, and oblige them to deposit at least
one half the value with the Continental Congress, as a security for good
behavior; to administer the strongest oath that could be devised, that
they would act offensively and defensively in support of the common
rights; and finally, to transfer all such as should prove refractory, to
some place in the interior, where they would not be dangerous.
The people of New York, at all times very excitable, were thrown into a
panic on hearing that Lee was in Connecticut, on his way to take
military possession of the city. They apprehended his appearance there
would provoke an attack from the ships in the harbor. Some, who thought
the war about to be brought to their own doors, packed up their effects,
and made off into the country with their wives and children. Others
beleaguered the committee of safety with entreaties against the
deprecated protection of General Lee. The committee, through Pierre Van
Cortlandt, their chairman, addressed a letter to Lee, inquiring into the
motives of his coming with an army to New York, and stating the
incapacity of the city to act hostilely against the ships of war in
port, from deficiency of powder, and a want of military works. For
these, and other reasons, they urged the impropriety of provoking
hostilities for the present, and the necessity of “saving appearances,”
with the ships of war, till at least the month of March, when they hoped
to be able to face their enemies with some countenance.
“We, therefore,” continued the letter, “ardently wish to remain in peace
for a little time, and doubt not we have assigned sufficient reasons for
avoiding at present, a dilemma, in which the entrance of a large body of
troops into the city, will almost certainly involve us. Should you have
such an entrance in design, we beg at least the troops may halt on the
western confines of Connecticut, till we have been honored by you with
such an explanation on this important subject, as you may conceive your
duty may permit you to enter upon with us, the grounds of which, you may
easily see, ought to be kept an entire secret.”
Lee, in reply, dated Stamford, Jan. 23d, disclaimed all intention of
commencing actual hostilities against the men-of-war in the harbor; his
instructions from the commander-in-chief being solely to prevent the
enemy from taking post in the city, or lodging themselves on Long
Island. Some subordinate purposes were likewise to be executed, which
were much more proper to be communicated by word of mouth than by
writing. In compliance with the wishes of the committee, he promised to
carry with him into the town just troops enough to secure it against any
present designs of the enemy, leaving his main force on the western
border of Connecticut. “I give you my word,” added he, “that no active
service is proposed, as you seem to apprehend. If the ships of war are
quiet, I shall be quiet; but I declare solemnly, that if they make a
pretext of my presence to fire on the town, the first house set on
flames by their guns shall be the funeral pile of some of their best
friends.”
In a letter to Washington, written on the following day, he says of his
recruiting success in Connecticut: “I find the people throughout this
province, more alive and zealous than my most sanguine expectations. I
believe I might have collected two thousand volunteers. I take only four
companies with me, and Waterbury’s regiment. * * * These Connecticutians
are, if possible, more eager to go out of their country, than they are
to return home, when they have been absent for any considerable time.”
Speaking of the people of New York, and the letter from their Provincial
Congress, which he encloses: “The whigs,” says he, “I mean the stout
ones, are, it is said, very desirous that a body of troops should march
and be stationed in the city—the timid ones are averse, merely from the
spirit of procrastination, which is the characteristic of timidity. The
letter from the Provincial Congress, you will observe, breathes the very
essence of this spirit; it is wofully hysterical.”
By the by, the threat contained in Lee’s reply about a “funeral pile,”
coming from a soldier of his mettle, was not calculated to soothe the
hysterical feelings of the committee of safety. How he conducted himself
on his arrival in the city, we shall relate in a future chapter.
CHAPTER XV.
MONTGOMERY BEFORE QUEBEC—HIS PLAN OF OPERATIONS—A SUMMONS TO SURRENDER—A
FLAG INSULTED—THE TOWN BESIEGED—PLAN OF AN ESCALADE—ATTACK OF THE LOWER
TOWN—MONTGOMERY IN THE ADVANCE—HIS DEATH—RETREAT OF COL. CAMPBELL—ATTACK
BY ARNOLD—DEFENCE OF THE LOWER TOWN—ARNOLD WOUNDED—RETREAT OF THE
AMERICANS—GALLANT RESOLVE OF ARNOLD.
From amid surrounding perplexities, Washington still turned a hopeful
eye to Canada. He expected daily to receive tidings that Montgomery and
Arnold were within the walls of Quebec, and he had even written to the
former to forward as much as could be spared of the large quantities of
arms, blankets, clothing and other military stores, said to be deposited
there; the army before Boston being in great need of such supplies.
On the 18th of January came despatches to him from General Schuyler,
containing withering tidings. The following is the purport. Montgomery,
on the 2d of December, the day after his arrival at Point aux Trembles,
set off in face of a driving snow storm for Quebec, and arrived before
it on the 5th. The works, from their great extent, appeared to him
incapable of being defended by the actual garrison; made up, as he said,
of “Maclean’s banditti,” the sailors from the frigates and other
vessels, together with the citizens obliged to take up arms; most of
whom were impatient of the fatigues of a siege, and wished to see
matters accommodated amicably. “I propose,” added he, “amusing Mr.
Carleton with a formal attack, erecting batteries, &c., but mean to
assault the works, I believe towards the lower town, which is the
weakest part.”
According to his own account, his whole force did not exceed nine
hundred effective men, three hundred of whom he had brought with him;
the rest he found with Colonel Arnold. The latter he pronounced an
exceeding fine corps, inured to fatigue, and well accustomed to a cannon
shot, having served at Cambridge. “There is a style of discipline among
them,” adds he, “much superior to what I have been used to see in this
campaign. He, himself (Arnold), is active, intelligent and enterprising.
Fortune often baffles the sanguine expectations of poor mortals. I am
not intoxicated with her favors, but I do think there is a fair prospect
of success.”[43]
On the day of his arrival, he sent a flag with a summons to surrender.
It was fired upon, and obliged to retire. Exasperated at this outrage,
which, it is thought, was committed by the veteran Maclean, Montgomery
wrote an indignant, reproachful, and even menacing letter to Carleton,
reiterating the demand, magnifying the number of his troops, and warning
him against the consequences of an assault. Finding it was rejected from
the walls, it was conveyed in by a woman, together with letters
addressed to the principal merchants, promising great indulgence in case
of immediate submission. By Carleton’s orders, the messenger was sent to
prison for a few days, and then drummed out of town.
Montgomery now prepared for an attack. The ground was frozen to a great
depth, and covered with snow; he was scantily provided with intrenching
tools, and had only a field train of artillery, and a few mortars. By
dint of excessive labor a breastwork was thrown up, four hundred yards
distant from the walls and opposite to the gate of St. Louis, which is
nearly in the centre. It was formed of gabions, ranged side by side, and
filled with snow, over which water was thrown until thoroughly frozen.
Here Captain Lamb mounted five light pieces and a howitzer. Several
mortars were placed in the suburbs of St. Roque, which extends on the
left of the promontory, below the heights, and nearly on a level with
the river.
From the “Ice Battery” Captain Lamb opened a well-sustained and
well-directed fire upon the walls, but his field-pieces were too light
to be effective. With his howitzer he threw shells into the town and set
it on fire in several places. For five days and nights the garrison was
kept on the alert by the teasing fire of this battery. The object of
Montgomery was to harass the town, and increase the dissatisfaction of
the inhabitants. His flag of truce being still fired upon, he caused the
Indians in his camp to shoot arrows into the town, having letters
attached to them, addressed to the inhabitants, representing Carleton’s
refusal to treat, and advising them to rise in a body, and compel him.
It was all in vain; whatever might have been the disposition of the
inhabitants, they were completely under the control of the military.
On the evening of the fifth day, Montgomery paid a visit to the ice
battery. The heavy artillery from the wall had repaid its ineffectual
fire with ample usury. The brittle ramparts had been shivered like
glass; several of the guns had been rendered useless. Just as they
arrived at the battery, a shot from the fortress dismounted one of the
guns, and disabled many of the men. A second shot immediately following,
was almost as destructive. “This is warm work, sir,” said Montgomery to
Captain Lamb. “It is indeed, and certainly no place for you, sir.” “Why
so, captain?” “Because there are enough of us here to be killed, without
the loss of you, which would be irreparable.”
The general saw the insufficiency of the battery, and, on retiring, gave
Captain Lamb permission to leave it whenever he thought proper. The
veteran waited until after dark, when, securing all the guns, he
abandoned the ruined redoubt. The general in this visit was attended by
Aaron Burr, whom he had appointed his aide-de-camp. Lamb wondered that
he should encumber himself with such a boy. The perfect coolness and
self-possession with which the youth mingled in this dangerous scene,
and the fire which sparkled in his eye, soon convinced Lamb, according
to his own account, that “the young volunteer was no ordinary man.”[44]
Nearly three weeks had been consumed in these futile operations. The
army, ill-clothed, and ill-provided, was becoming impatient of the
rigors of a Canadian winter; the term for which part of the troops had
enlisted would expire with the year, and they already talked of
returning home. Montgomery was sadly conscious of the insufficiency of
his means; still he could not endure the thoughts of retiring from
before the place without striking a blow. He knew that much was expected
from him, in consequence of his late achievements, and that the eyes of
the public were fixed upon this Canadian enterprise. He determined,
therefore, to attempt to carry the place by _escalade_. One third of his
men were to set fire to the houses and stockades of the suburb of St.
Roque, and force the barriers of the lower town; while the main body
should scale the bastion of Cape Diamond.
It was a hazardous, almost a desperate project, yet it has met with the
approbation of military men. He calculated upon the devotion and daring
spirit of his men; upon the discontent which prevailed among the
Canadians, and upon the incompetency of the garrison for the defence of
such extensive works.
In regard to the devotion of his men, he was threatened with
disappointment. When the plan of assault was submitted to a council of
war, three of the captains in Arnold’s division, the terms of whose
companies were near expiring, declined to serve, unless they and their
men could be transferred to another command. This almost mutinous
movement, it is supposed, was fomented by Arnold’s old adversary, Major
Brown, and it was with infinite difficulty Montgomery succeeded in
overcoming it.
The ladders were now provided for the _escalade_, and Montgomery waited
with impatience for a favorable night to put it into execution. Smallpox
and desertion had reduced his little army to seven hundred and fifty
men. From certain movements of the enemy, it was surmised that the
deserters had revealed his plan. He changed, therefore, the arrangement.
Colonel Livingston was to make a false attack on the gate of St. Johns
and set fire to it; Major Brown, with another detachment, was to menace
the bastion of Cape Diamond. Arnold, with three hundred and fifty of the
hardy fellows who had followed him through the wilderness, strengthened
by Captain Lamb and forty of his company, was to assault the suburbs and
batteries of St. Roque; while Montgomery, with the residue of his
forces, was to pass below the bastion at Cape Diamond, defile along the
river, carry the defences at Drummond’s Wharf, and thus enter the lower
town on one side, while Arnold forced his way into it on the other.
These movements were all to be made at the same time, on the discharge
of signal rockets, thus distracting the enemy, and calling their
attention to four several points.
On the 31st of December, at two o’clock in the morning, the troops
repaired to their several destinations, under cover of a violent snow
storm. By some accident or mistake, such as is apt to occur in
complicated plans of attack, the signal rockets were let off before the
lower divisions had time to get to their fighting ground. They were
descried by one of Maclean’s Highland officers, who gave the alarm.
Livingston, also, failed to make the false attack on the gate of St.
Johns, which was to have caused a diversion favorable to Arnold’s attack
on the suburb below.
The feint by Major Brown, on the bastion of Cape Diamond, was
successful, and concealed the march of General Montgomery. That gallant
commander descended from the heights to Wolfe’s Cove, and led his
division along the shore of the St. Lawrence, round the beetling
promontory of Cape Diamond. The narrow approach to the lower town in
that direction was traversed by a picket or stockade, defended by
Canadian militia; beyond which was a second defence, a kind of block
house, forming a battery of small pieces, manned by Canadian militia,
and a few seamen, and commanded by the captain of a transport. The aim
of Montgomery was to come upon these barriers by surprise. The pass
which they defended is formidable at all times, having a swift river on
one side, and overhanging precipices on the other; but at this time was
rendered peculiarly difficult by drifting snow, and by great masses of
ice piled on each other at the foot of the cliffs.
The troops made their way painfully, in extended and straggling files,
along the narrow footway, and over the slippery piles of ice. Among the
foremost, were some of the first New York regiment, led on by Captain
Cheeseman. Montgomery, who was familiar with them, urged them on.
“Forward, men of New York!” cried he. “You are not the men to flinch
when your general leads you on!” In his eagerness, he threw himself far
in the advance, with his pioneers and a few officers, and made a dash at
the first barrier. The Canadians stationed there, taken by surprise,
made a few random shots, then threw down their muskets and fled.
Montgomery sprang forward, aided with his own hand to pluck down the
pickets, which the pioneers were sawing, and having made a breach
sufficiently wide to admit three or four men abreast, entered sword in
hand, followed by his staff, Captain Cheeseman, and some of his men. The
Canadians had fled from the picket to the battery or block house, but
seemed to have carried the panic with them, for the battery remained
silent. Montgomery felt for a moment as if the surprise had been
complete. He paused in the breach to rally on the troops, who were
stumbling along the difficult pass. “Push on, my brave boys,” cried he,
“Quebec is ours!”
He again dashed forward, but, when within forty paces of the battery, a
discharge of grape-shot from a single cannon, made deadly havoc.
Montgomery, and McPherson, one of his aides, were killed on the spot.
Captain Cheeseman, who was leading on his New Yorkers, received a
canister shot through the body; made an effort to rise and push forward,
but fell back a corpse; with him fell his orderly sergeant and several
of his men. This fearful slaughter, and the death of their general,
threw every thing in confusion. The officer next in lineal rank to the
general, was far in the rear; in this emergency, Colonel Campbell,
quarter-master-general, took the command, but, instead of rallying the
men, and endeavoring to effect the junction with Arnold, ordered a
retreat, and abandoned the half-won field, leaving behind him the bodies
of the slain.
While all this was occurring on the side of Cape Diamond, Arnold led his
division against the opposite side of the lower town along the suburb
and street of St. Roque. Like Montgomery, he took the advance at the
head of a forlorn hope of twenty-five men, accompanied by his secretary
Oswald, formerly one of his captains at Ticonderoga. Captain Lamb and
his artillery company came next, with a field-piece mounted on a sledge.
Then came a company with ladders and scaling implements, followed by
Morgan and his riflemen. In the rear of all these came the main body. A
battery on a wharf commanded the narrow pass by which they had to
advance. This was to be attacked with the field-piece, and then scaled
with ladders by the forlorn hope; while Captain Morgan with his
riflemen, was to pass round the wharf on the ice.
The false attack which was to have been made by Livingston on the gate
of St. Johns, by way of diversion, had not taken place; there was
nothing, therefore, to call off the attention of the enemy in this
quarter from the detachment. The troops, as they strangled along in
lengthened file through the drifting snow, were sadly galled by a
flanking fire on the right, from walls and pickets. The field-piece at
length became so deeply embedded in a snow-drift, that it could not be
moved. Lamb sent word to Arnold of the impediment; in the mean time, he
and his artillery company were brought to a halt. The company with the
scaling ladders would have halted also, having been told to keep in the
rear of the artillery; but they were urged on by Morgan with a
thundering oath, who pushed on after them with his riflemen, the
artillery company opening to the right and left to let them pass.
They arrived in the advance, just as Arnold was leading on his forlorn
hope to attack the barrier. Before he reached it, a severe wound in the
right leg with a musket ball completely disabled him, and he had to be
borne from the field. Morgan instantly took the command. Just then Lamb
came up with his company, armed with muskets and bayonets, having
received orders to abandon the field-piece, and support the advance.
Oswald joined him with the forlorn hope. The battery which commanded the
defile mounted two pieces of cannon. There was a discharge of grape-shot
when the assailants were close under the muzzles of the guns, yet but
one man was killed. Before there could be a second discharge, the
battery was carried by assault, some firing into the embrasures; others
scaling the walls. The captain and thirty of his men were taken
prisoners.
The day was just dawning as Morgan led on to attack the second barrier,
and his men had to advance under a fire from the town walls on their
right, which incessantly thinned their ranks. The second barrier was
reached; they applied their scaling ladders to storm it. The defence was
brave and obstinate, but the defenders were at length driven from their
guns, and the battery was gained. At the last moment one of the gunners
ran back, linstock in hand, to give one more shot. Captain Lamb snapped
a fusee at him. It missed fire. The cannon was discharged, and a
grape-shot wounded Lamb in the head, carrying away part of the
cheek-bone. He was borne off senseless, to a neighboring shed.
The two barriers being now taken, the way on this side into the lower
town seemed open. Morgan prepared to enter it with the victorious
vanguard; first stationing Captain Dearborn and some provincials at
Palace Gate, which opened down into the defile from the upper town. By
this time, however, the death of Montgomery and retreat of Campbell, had
enabled the enemy to turn all their attention in this direction. A large
detachment sent by General Carleton, sallied out of Palace Gate after
Morgan had passed it, surprised and captured Dearborn and the guard, and
completely cut off the advanced party. The main body, informed of the
death of Montgomery, and giving up the game as lost, retreated to the
camp, leaving behind the field-piece which Lamb’s company had abandoned,
and the mortars in the battery of St. Roque.
Morgan and his men were now hemmed in on all sides, and obliged to take
refuge in a stone house, from the inveterate fire which assailed them.
From the windows of this house they kept up a desperate defence, until
cannon were brought to bear upon it. Then, hearing of the death of
Montgomery, and seeing that there was no prospect of relief, Morgan and
his gallant handful of followers were compelled to surrender themselves
prisoners of war.
Thus foiled at every point, the wrecks of the little army abandoned
their camp, and retreated about three miles from the town; where they
hastily fortified themselves, apprehending a pursuit by the garrison.
General Carleton, however, contented himself with having secured the
safety of the place, and remained cautiously passive until he should be
properly reinforced; distrusting the good faith of the motley
inhabitants. He is said to have treated the prisoners with a humanity
the more honorable, considering the “habitual military severity of his
temper;” their heroic daring, displayed in the assault upon the lower
town, having excited his admiration.
The remains of the gallant Montgomery received a soldier’s grave, within
the fortifications of Quebec, by the care of Cramahé, the
lieutenant-governor, who had formerly known him.
Arnold, wounded and disabled, had been assisted back to the camp,
dragging one foot after the other for nearly a mile in great agony, and
exposed continually to the musketry from the walls at fifty yards’
distance, which shot down several at his side.
He took temporary command of the shattered army, until General Wooster
should arrive from Montreal, to whom he sent an express, urging him to
bring on succor. “On this occasion,” says a contemporary writer, “he
discovered the utmost vigor of a determined mind, and a genius full of
resources. Defeated and wounded, as he was, he put his troops into such
a situation as to keep them still formidable.”[45]
With a mere handful of men, at one time not exceeding five hundred, he
maintained a blockade of the strong fortress from which he had just been
repulsed. “I have no thoughts,” writes he, “of leaving this proud town
until I enter it in triumph. _I am in the way of my duty, and I know no
fear!_”[46]
Happy for him had he fallen at this moment.—Happy for him had he found a
soldier’s and a patriot’s grave, beneath the rock-built walls of Quebec.
Those walls would have remained enduring monuments of his renown. His
name, like that of Montgomery, would have been treasured up among the
dearest though most mournful recollections of his country, and that
country would have been spared the single traitorous blot that dims the
bright page of its revolutionary history.
CHAPTER XVI.
CORRESPONDENCE OF WASHINGTON AND SCHUYLER ON THE DISASTERS IN
CANADA—REINFORCEMENTS REQUIRED FROM NEW ENGLAND—DANGERS IN THE INTERIOR
OF NEW YORK—JOHNSON HALL BELEAGUERED—SIR JOHN CAPITULATES—GENEROUS
CONDUCT OF SCHUYLER—GOVERNOR TRYON AND THE TORIES—TORY MACHINATIONS—LEE
AT NEW YORK—SIR HENRY CLINTON IN THE HARBOR—MENACES OF LEE—THE CITY AND
RIVER FORTIFIED—LEE’S TREATMENT OF THE TORIES—HIS PLANS OF
FORTIFICATION—ORDERED TO THE COMMAND IN CANADA—HIS SPECULATIONS ON
TITLES OF DIGNITY.
Schuyler’s letter to Washington, announcing the recent events, was
written with manly feeling. “I wish,” said he, “I had no occasion to
send my dear general this melancholy account. My amiable friend, the
gallant Montgomery, is no more; the brave Arnold is wounded; and we have
met with a severe check in an unsuccessful attempt on Quebec. May Heaven
be graciously pleased that the misfortune may terminate here! I tremble
for our people in Canada.”
Alluding to his recent request to retire from the army, he writes: “Our
affairs are much worse than when I made the request. This is motive
sufficient for me to continue to serve my country in any way I can be
thought most serviceable; but my utmost can be but little, weak and
indisposed as I am.”
Washington was deeply moved by the disastrous intelligence. “I most
sincerely condole with you,” writes he, in reply to Schuyler, “upon the
fall of the brave and worthy Montgomery. In the death of this gentleman,
America has sustained a heavy loss. I am much concerned for the intrepid
and enterprising Arnold, and greatly fear that consequences of the most
alarming nature will result from this well-intended, but unfortunate
attempt.”
General Schuyler, who was now in Albany, urged the necessity of an
immediate reinforcement of three thousand men for the army in Canada.
Washington had not a man to spare from the army before Boston. He
applied, therefore, on his own responsibility, to Massachusetts, New
Hampshire and Connecticut, for three regiments, which were granted. His
prompt measure received the approbation of Congress, and further
reinforcements were ordered from the same quarters.
Solicitude was awakened about the interior of the province of New York.
Arms and ammunition were said to be concealed in Tryon County, and
numbers of the tories in that neighborhood preparing for hostilities.
Sir John Johnson had fortified Johnson Hall, gathered about him his
Scotch Highland tenants and Indian allies, and it was rumored he
intended to carry fire and sword along the valley of the Mohawk.
Schuyler, in consequence, received orders from Congress to take measures
for securing the military stores, disarming the disaffected, and
apprehending their chiefs. He forthwith hastened from Albany, at the
head of a body of soldiers; was joined by Colonel Herkimer, with the
militia of Tryon County marshalled forth on the frozen bosom of the
Mohawk River, and appeared before Sir John’s stronghold, near Johnstown,
on the 19th of January.
Thus beleaguered, Sir John, after much negotiation, capitulated. He was
to surrender all weapons of war and military stores in his possession,
and to give his parole not to take arms against America. On these
conditions he was to be at liberty to go as far westward in Tryon County
as the German Flats and Kingsland districts, and to every part of the
colony to the southward and eastward of these districts; provided he did
not go into any seaport town.
Sir John intimated a trust, that he, and the gentlemen with him, would
be permitted to retain such arms as were their own property. The reply
was characteristic: “General Schuyler’s feelings as a gentleman, induce
him to consent that Sir John Johnson may retain the few favorite family
arms, he making a list of them. General Schuyler never refused a
gentleman his side-arms.”
The capitulation being adjusted, Schuyler ordered his troops to be drawn
up in line at noon (Jan. 20th), between his quarters and the Court
House, to receive the surrender of the Highlanders, enjoining profound
silence on his officers and men, when the surrender should be made.
Every thing was conducted with great regard to the feelings of Sir
John’s Scottish adherents; they marched to the front, grounded their
arms, and were dismissed with exhortations to good behavior.
The conduct of Schuyler, throughout this affair, drew forth a resolution
of Congress, applauding him for his fidelity, prudence and expedition,
and the proper temper he had maintained toward the “deluded people” in
question. Washington, too, congratulated him on his success. “I hope,”
writes he, “General Lee will execute a work of the same kind on Long
Island. It is high time to begin with our internal foes, when we are
threatened with such severity of chastisement from our kind parent
without.”
The recent reverses in Canada had, in fact, heightened the solicitude of
Washington about the province of New York. That province was the central
and all-important link in the confederacy; but he feared it might prove
a brittle one. We have already mentioned the adverse influences in
operation there. A large number of friends to the crown, among the
official and commercial classes; rank tories, (as they were called,) in
the city and about the neighboring country; particularly on Long and
Staten Islands; king’s ships at anchor in the bay and harbor, keeping up
a suspicious intercourse with the citizens; while Governor Tryon,
castled, as it were, on board one of these ships, carried on intrigues
with those disaffected to the popular cause, in all parts of the
neighborhood. County committees had been empowered by the New York
Congress and convention, to apprehend all persons notoriously
disaffected, to examine into their conduct, and ascertain whether they
were guilty of any hostile act or machination. Imprisonment or
banishment was the penalty. The committees could call upon the militia
to aid in the discharge of their functions. Still, disaffection to the
cause was said to be rife in the province, and Washington looked to
General Lee for effective measures to suppress it.
Lee arrived at New York on the 4th of February, his caustic humors
sharpened by a severe attack of the gout, which had rendered it
necessary, while on the march, to carry him for a considerable part of
the way in a litter. His correspondence is a complete mental barometer.
“I consider it as a piece of the greatest good fortune,” writes he to
Washington (Feb. 5th), “that the Congress have detached a committee to
this place, otherwise I should have made a most ridiculous figure,
besides bringing upon myself the enmity of the whole province. My hands
were effectually tied up from taking any step necessary for the public
service by the late resolve of Congress, putting every detachment of the
continental forces under the command of the Provincial Congress where
such detachment is.”
By a singular coincidence, on the very day of his arrival Sir Henry
Clinton, with the squadron which had sailed so mysteriously from Boston,
looked into the harbor. “Though it was Sabbath,” says a letter-writer of
the day, “it threw the whole city into such a convulsion as it never
knew before. Many of the inhabitants hastened to move their effects into
the country, expecting an immediate conflict. All that day and all
night, were there carts going and boats loading, and women and children
crying, and distressed voices heard in the roads in the dead of the
night.”[47]
Clinton sent for the mayor, and expressed much surprise and concern at
the distress caused by his arrival; which was merely, he said, on a
short visit to his friend Tryon, and to see how matters stood. He
professed a juvenile love for the place, and desired that the
inhabitants might be informed of the purport of his visit, and that he
would go away as soon as possible.
“He brought no troops with him,” writes Lee, “and pledges his honor that
none are coming. He says it is merely a visit to his friend Tryon. If it
is really so, it is the most whimsical piece of civility I ever heard
of.”
A gentleman in New York, writing to a friend in Philadelphia, reports
one of the general’s characteristic menaces, which kept the town in a
fever.
“Lee says, he will send word on board of the men-of-war, that, if they
set a house on fire, he will chain a hundred of their friends by the
neck, and make the house their funeral pile.”[48]
For this time, the inhabitants of New York were let off for their fears.
Clinton, after a brief visit, continued his mysterious cruise, openly
avowing his destination to be North Carolina—which nobody believed,
simply because he avowed it.
The Duke of Manchester, speaking in the House of Lords of the conduct of
Clinton, contrasts it with that of Lord Dunmore, who wrapped Norfolk in
flames. “I will pass no censure on that noble lord,” said he, “but I
could wish that he had acted with that generous spirit that forbade
Clinton uselessly to destroy the town of New York. My lords, Clinton
visited New York; the inhabitants expected its destruction. Lee appeared
before it with an army too powerful to be attacked, and Clinton passed
by without doing any wanton damage.”
The necessity of conferring with committees at every step, was a hard
restraint upon a man of Lee’s ardent and impatient temper, who had a
soldierlike contempt for the men of peace around him; yet at the outset
he bore it better than might have been expected.
“The Congress committees, a certain number of the committees of safety,
and your humble servant,” writes he to Washington, “have had two
conferences. The result is such as will agreeably surprise you. It is in
the first place agreed, and justly, that to fortify the town against
shipping is impracticable; but we are to fortify lodgments on some
commanding part of the city for two thousand men. We are to erect
enclosed batteries on both sides of the water, near Hell Gate, which
will answer the double purpose of securing the town against piracies
through the Sound, and secure our communication with Long Island, now
become a more important point than ever; as it is determined to form a
strong fortified camp of three thousand men, on the Island, immediately
opposite to New York. The pass in the Highlands is to be made as
respectable as possible, and guarded by a battalion. In short, I think
the plan judicious and complete.”
The pass in the Highlands above alluded to, is that grand defile of the
Hudson, where, for upwards of fifteen miles, it wends its deep channel
between stern, forest-clad mountains and rocky promontories. Two forts,
about six miles distant from each other, and commanding narrow parts of
the river at its bends through these Highlands, had been commenced in
the preceding autumn, by order of the Continental Congress; but they
were said to be insufficient for the security of that important pass,
and were to be extended and strengthened.
Washington had charged Lee, in his instructions, to keep a stern eye
upon the tories, who were active in New York. “You can seize upon the
persons of the principals,” said he; “they must be so notoriously known,
that there will be little danger of committing mistakes.” Lee acted up
to the letter of these instructions, and weeded out with a vigorous
hand, some of the rankest of the growth. This gave great offence to the
peace-loving citizens, who insisted that he was arrogating a power
vested solely in the civil authority. One of them, well-affected to the
cause, writes: “To see the vast number of houses shut up, one would
think the city almost evacuated. Women and children are scarcely to be
seen in the streets. Troops are daily coming in; they break open and
quarter themselves in any house they find shut.”[49]
The enemy, too, regarded his measures with apprehension. “That arch
rebel Lee,” writes a British officer, “has driven all the well-affected
people from the town of New York. If something is not speedily done, his
Britannic majesty’s American dominions will be confined within a very
narrow compass.”[50]
In the exercise of his military functions, Lee set Governor Tryon and
the captain of the Asia at defiance. “They had threatened perdition to
the town,” writes he to Washington, “if the cannon were removed from the
batteries and wharves, but I ever considered their threats as a _brutum
fulmen_, and even persuaded the town to be of the same way of thinking.
We accordingly conveyed them to a place of safety in the middle of the
day, and no cannonade ensued. Captain Parker publishes a pleasant reason
for his passive conduct. He says that it was manifestly my intention,
and that of the New England men under my command, to bring destruction
on this town, so hated for their loyal principles, but that he was
determined not to indulge us; so remained quiet out of spite. The people
here laugh at his nonsense, and begin to despise the menaces which
formerly used to throw them into convulsions.”
Washington appears to have shared the merriment. In his reply to Lee, he
writes, “I could not avoid laughing at Captain Parker’s reasons for not
putting his repeated threats into execution,”—a proof, by the way, under
his own hand, that he could laugh occasionally; and even when surrounded
by perplexities.
According to Lee’s account, the New Yorkers showed a wonderful alacrity
in removing the cannon. “Men and boys of all ages,” writes he, “worked
with the greatest zeal and pleasure. I really believe the generality are
as well-affected as any on the continent.” Some of the well-affected,
however, thought he was rather too self-willed and high-handed. “Though
General Lee has many things to recommend him as a general,” writes one
of them, “yet I think he was out of luck when he ordered the removal of
the guns from the battery; as it was without the approbation or
knowledge of our Congress.”[51]—Lee seldom waited for the approbation of
Congress in moments of exigency.
He now proceeded with his plan of defences. A strong redoubt, capable of
holding three hundred men, was commenced at Horen’s Hook, commanding the
pass at Hell Gate, so as to block up from the enemy’s ships, the passage
between the mainland and Long Island. A regiment was stationed on the
island, making fascines, and preparing other materials for constructing
the works for an intrenched camp, which Lee hoped would render it
impossible for the enemy to get a footing there. “What to do with this
city,” writes he, “I own, puzzles me. It is so encircled with deep
navigable water, that whoever commands the sea must command the town.
To-morrow I shall begin to dismantle that part of the fort next to the
town, to prevent its being converted into a citadel. I shall barrier the
principal streets, and, at least, if I cannot make it a continental
garrison, it shall be a disputable field of battle.” Batteries were to
be erected on an eminence behind Trinity Church, to keep the enemy’s
ships at so great a distance as not to injure the town.
King’s Bridge, at the upper end of Manhattan or New York Island, linking
it with the mainland, was pronounced by Lee “a most important pass,
without which the city could have no communication with Connecticut.” It
was, therefore, to be made as strong as possible.
Heavy cannon were to be sent up to the forts in the Highlands; which
were to be enlarged and strengthened.
In the midst of his schemes, Lee received orders from Congress to the
command in Canada, vacant by the death of Montgomery. He bewailed the
defenceless condition of the city; the Continental Congress, as he said,
not having, as yet, taken the least step for its security. “The instant
I leave it,” said he, “I conclude the Provincial Congress, and
inhabitants in general, will relapse into their former hysterics. The
men-of-war and Mr. Tryon will return to their old station at the
wharves, and the first regiments who arrive from England, will take
quiet possession of the town and Long Island.”
It must be observed that, in consequence of his military demonstrations
in the city, the enemy’s ships had drawn off and dropped down the bay;
and he had taken vigorous measures, without consulting the committees,
to put an end to the practice of supplying them with provisions.
“Governor Tryon and the Asia,” writes he to Washington, “continue
between Nutten and Bedlow’s Islands. It has pleased his excellency, in
violation of the compact he has made, to seize several vessels from
Jersey laden with flour. It has, in return, pleased my excellency to
stop all provisions from the city, and cut off all intercourse with
him,—a measure which has thrown the mayor, council, and tories into
agonies. The propensity, or rather rage, for paying court to this great
man, is inconceivable. They cannot be weaned from him. We must put
wormwood on his paps, or they will cry to suck, as they are in their
second childhood.”
We would observe in explanation of a sarcasm in the above quoted letter,
that Lee professed a great contempt for the titles of respect which it
was the custom to prefix to the names of men in office or command. He
scoffed at them, as unworthy of “a great, free, manly, equal
commonwealth.” “For my own part,” said he, “I would as lief they would
put ratsbane in my mouth, as the excellency with which I am daily
crammed. How much more true dignity was there in the simplicity of
address among the Romans! Marcus Tullius Cicero, Decius Bruto
Imperatori, or Caio Marcello Consuli; than to ’His Excellency
Major-general Noodle,’ or to the ’Honorable John Doodle.’”
CHAPTER XVII.
MONOTONOUS STATE OF AFFAIRS BEFORE BOSTON—WASHINGTON ANXIOUS FOR
ACTION—EXPLOIT OF PUTNAM—ITS DRAMATIC CONSEQUENCES—THE FARCE OF THE
BLOCKADE OF BOSTON—AN ALARMING INTERRUPTION—DISTRESSES OF THE
BESIEGED—WASHINGTON’S IRKSOME PREDICAMENT—HIS BOLD PROPOSITION—DEMUR OF
THE COUNCIL OF WAR—ARRIVAL OF KNOX WITH ARTILLERY—DORCHESTER HEIGHTS TO
BE SEIZED AND FORTIFIED—PREPARATIONS FOR THE ATTEMPT.
The siege of Boston continued through the winter, without any striking
incident to enliven its monotony. The British remained within their
works, leaving the beleaguering army slowly to augment its forces. The
country was dissatisfied with the inaction of the latter. Even Congress
was anxious for some successful blow that might revive popular
enthusiasm. Washington shared this anxiety, and had repeatedly, in
councils of war, suggested an attack upon the town, but had found a
majority of his general officers opposed to it. He had hoped some
favorable opportunity would present, when, the harbor being frozen, the
troops might approach the town upon the ice. The winter, however, though
severe at first, proved a mild one, and the bay continued open. General
Putnam, in the mean time, having completed the new works at Lechmere
Point, and being desirous of keeping up the spirit of his men, resolved
to treat them to an exploit. Accordingly, from his “impregnable
fortress” of Cobble Hill, he detached a party of about two hundred,
under his favorite officer, Major Knowlton, to surprise and capture a
British guard stationed at Charlestown. It was a daring enterprise, and
executed with spirit. As Charlestown Neck was completely protected,
Knowlton led his men across the mill-dam, round the base of the hill,
and immediately below the fort; set fire to the guard-house and some
buildings in its vicinity; made several prisoners, and retired without
loss; although thundered upon by the cannon of the fort. The exploit was
attended by a dramatic effect on which Putnam had not calculated. The
British officers, early in the winter, had fitted up a theatre, which
was well attended by the troops and tories. On the evening in question,
an afterpiece was to be performed, entitled “The Blockade of Boston,”
intended as a burlesque on the patriot army which was beleaguering it.
Washington is said to have been represented in it as an awkward lout,
equipped with a huge wig, and a long rusty sword, attended by a country
booby as orderly sergeant, in rustic garb, with an old firelock seven or
eight feet long.
The theatre was crowded, especially by the military. The first piece was
over, and the curtain was rising for the farce, when a sergeant made his
appearance, and announced that “the alarm guns were firing at
Charlestown, and the Yankees attacking Bunker’s Hill.” At first this was
supposed to be a part of the entertainment, until General Howe gave the
word, “Officers, to your alarm posts.”
Great confusion ensued; every one scrambled out of the theatre as fast
as possible. There was, as usual, some shrieking and fainting of ladies;
and the farce of “The Blockade of Boston” had a more serious than comic
termination.
The London Chronicle, in a sneering comment on Boston affairs, gave
Burgoyne as the author of this burlesque afterpiece, though perhaps
unjustly. “General Burgoyne has opened a theatrical campaign, of which
himself is sole manager, being determined to act with the Provincials on
the defensive only. Tom Thumb has been already represented; while, on
the other hand, the Provincials are preparing to exhibit, early in the
spring, ’Measure for Measure.’”
The British officers, like all soldiers by profession, endeavored to
while away the time by every amusement within their reach; but, in
truth, the condition of the besieged town was daily becoming more and
more distressing. The inhabitants were without flour, pulse, or
vegetables; the troops were nearly as destitute. There was a lack of
fuel, too, as well as food. The smallpox broke out, and it was necessary
to inoculate the army. Men, women and children either left the city
voluntarily, or were sent out of it; yet the distress increased. Several
houses were broken open and plundered; others were demolished by the
soldiery for fuel. General Howe resorted to the sternest measures to put
a stop to these excesses. The provost was ordered to go the rounds with
the hangman, and hang up the first man he should detect in the fact,
without waiting for further proof for trial. Offenders were punished
with four hundred, six hundred, and even one thousand lashes. The wife
of a private soldier, convicted of receiving stolen goods, was sentenced
to one hundred lashes on her bare back, at the cart’s tail, in different
parts of the town, and an imprisonment of three months.
Meanwhile, Washington was incessantly goaded by the impatient murmurs of
the public, as we may judge by his letters to Mr. Reed. “I know the
integrity of my own heart,” writes he, on the 10th of February; “but to
declare it, unless to a friend, may be an argument of vanity. I know the
unhappy predicament I stand in; I know that much is expected of me; I
know that, without men, without arms, without ammunition, without any
thing fit for the accommodation of a soldier, little is to be done; and,
what is mortifying, I know that I cannot stand justified to the world
without exposing my own weakness, and injuring the cause, by declaring
my wants; which I am determined not to do, further than unavoidable
necessity brings every man acquainted with them.
“My own situation is so irksome to me at times, that, if I did not
consult the public good more than my own tranquillity, I should long ere
this have put every thing on the cast of a die. So far from my having an
army of twenty thousand men, well armed, I have been here with less than
one half of that number, including sick, furloughed, and on command; and
those neither armed nor clothed as they should be. In short, my
situation has been such, that I have been obliged to use art, to conceal
it from my own officers.”
How precious are those letters! And how fortunate that the absence of
Mr. Reed from camp, should have procured for us such confidential
outpourings of Washington’s heart at this time of its great trial.
He still adhered to his opinion in favor of an attempt upon the town. He
was aware that it would be attended with considerable loss, but believed
it would be successful if the men should behave well. Within a few days
after the date of this letter, the bay became sufficiently frozen for
the transportation of troops. “This,” writes he to Reed, “I thought,
knowing the ice would not last, a favorable opportunity to make an
assault upon the troops in town. I proposed it in council; but behold,
though we had been waiting all the year for this favorable event, the
enterprise was thought too dangerous. Perhaps it was; perhaps the
irksomeness of my situation led me to undertake more than could be
warranted by prudence. I did not think so, and I am sure yet that the
enterprise, if it had been undertaken with resolution, must have
succeeded; without it, any would fail.”
His proposition was too bold for the field-officers assembled in council
(Feb. 16th), who objected that there was not force, nor arms and
ammunition sufficient in camp for such an attempt. Washington acquiesced
in the decision, it being almost unanimous; yet he felt the irksomeness
of his situation. “To have the eyes of the whole continent,” said he,
“fixed with anxious expectation of hearing of some great event, and to
be restrained in every military operation for want of the necessary
means of carrying it on, is not very pleasing, especially as the means
used to conceal my weakness from the enemy, conceal it also from our
friends, and add to their wonder.”
In the council of war above mentioned, a cannonade and bombardment were
considered advisable, as soon as there should be a sufficiency of
powder; in the mean time, preparations might be made for taking
possession of Dorchester Heights, and Noddle’s Island.
At length the camp was rejoiced by the arrival of Colonel Knox, with his
long train of sledges drawn by oxen, bringing more than fifty cannon,
mortars, and howitzers, beside supplies of lead and flints. The zeal and
perseverance which he had displayed in his wintry expedition across
frozen lakes and snowy wastes, and the intelligence with which he had
fulfilled his instructions, won him the entire confidence of Washington.
His conduct in this enterprise was but an earnest of that energy and
ability which he displayed throughout the war.
Further ammunition being received from the royal arsenal at New York,
and other quarters, and a reinforcement of ten regiments of militia,
Washington no longer met with opposition to his warlike measures.
Lechmere Point, which Putnam had fortified, was immediately to be
supplied with mortars and heavy cannon, so as to command Boston on the
north; and Dorchester Heights, on the south of the town, were forthwith
to be taken possession of. “If any thing,” said Washington, “will induce
the enemy to hazard an engagement, it will be our attempting to fortify
those heights, as, in that event taking place, we shall be able to
command a great part of the town, and almost the whole harbor.” Their
possession, moreover, would enable him to push his works to Nook’s Hill,
and other points opposite Boston, whence a cannonade and bombardment
must drive the enemy from the city.
The council of Massachusetts, at his request, ordered the militia of the
towns contiguous to Dorchester and Roxbury, to hold themselves in
readiness to repair to the lines at those places with arms, ammunition
and accoutrements, on receiving a preconcerted signal.
Washington felt painfully aware how much depended upon the success of
this attempt. There was a cloud of gloom and distrust lowering upon the
public mind. Danger threatened on the north and on the south. Montgomery
had fallen before the walls of Quebec. The army in Canada was shattered.
Tryon and the tories were plotting mischief in New York. Dunmore was
harassing the lower part of Virginia, and Clinton and his fleet were
prowling along the coast, on a secret errand of mischief.
Washington’s general orders evince the solemn and anxious state of his
feelings. In those of the 26th of February, he forbade all playing at
cards and other games of chance. “At this time of public distress,”
writes he, “men may find enough to do in the service of God and their
country, without abandoning themselves to vice and immorality. * * * *
It is a noble cause we are engaged in; it is the cause of virtue and
mankind; every advantage and comfort to us and our posterity depend upon
the vigor of our exertions; in short, freedom or slavery must be the
result of our conduct; there can, therefore, be no greater inducement to
men to behave well. But it may not be amiss to the troops to know, that,
if any man in action shall presume to skulk, hide himself, or retreat
from the enemy without the orders of his commanding officer, he will be
instantly shot down as an example of cowardice; cowards having too
frequently disconcerted the best formed troops by their dastardly
behavior.”
In the general plan it was concerted, that, should the enemy detach a
large force to dislodge our men from Dorchester Heights, as had been
done in the affair of Bunker’s Hill, an attack upon the opposite side of
the town should forthwith be made by General Putnam. For this purpose he
was to have four thousand picked men in readiness, in two divisions,
under Generals Sullivan and Greene. At a concerted signal from Roxbury,
they were to embark in boats near the mouth of Charles River, cross
under cover of the fire of three floating batteries, land in two places
in Boston, secure its strong posts, force the gates and works at the
Neck, and let in the Roxbury troops.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE AFFAIR OF DORCHESTER HEIGHTS—AMERICAN AND ENGLISH LETTERS RESPECTING
IT—A LABORIOUS NIGHT—REVELATIONS AT DAYBREAK—HOWE IN A PERPLEXITY—A
NIGHT ATTACK MEDITATED—STORMY WEATHER—THE TOWN TO BE
EVACUATED—NEGOTIATIONS AND ARRANGEMENTS—PREPARATIONS TO EMBARK—EXCESSES
OF THE TROOPS—BOSTON EVACUATED—SPEECH OF THE DUKE OF MANCHESTER ON THE
SUBJECT—A MEDAL VOTED BY CONGRESS.
The evening of Monday, the 4th of March, was fixed upon for the
occupation of Dorchester Heights. The ground was frozen too hard to be
easily intrenched; fascines, therefore, and gabions, and bundles of
screwed hay, were collected during the two preceding nights, with which
to form breastworks and redoubts. During these two busy nights the
enemy’s batteries were cannonaded and bombarded from opposite points, to
occupy their attention, and prevent their noticing these preparations.
They replied with spirit, and the incessant roar of artillery thus kept
up, covered completely the rumbling of waggons and ordnance.
How little the enemy were aware of what was impending, we may gather
from the following extract of a letter from an officer of distinction in
the British army in Boston to his friend in London, dated on the 3d of
March:
“For these last six weeks or near two months, we have been better amused
than could possibly be expected in our situation. We had a theatre, we
had balls, and there is actually a subscription on foot for a
masquerade. England seems to have forgot us, and we have endeavored to
forget ourselves. But we were roused to a sense of our situation last
night, in a manner unpleasant enough. The rebels have been for some time
past erecting a bomb battery, and last night began to play upon us. Two
shells fell not far from me. One fell upon Colonel Monckton’s house, but
luckily did not burst until it had crossed the street. Many houses were
damaged, but no lives lost. The rebel army,” adds he, “is not brave, I
believe, but it is agreed on all hands that their artillery officers are
at least equal to ours.”[52]
The wife of John Adams, who resided in the vicinity of the American
camp, and knew that a general action was meditated, expresses in a
letter to her husband the feelings of a patriot woman during the
suspense of these nights.
“I have been in a constant state of anxiety, since you left me,” writes
she on Saturday. “It has been said to-morrow, and to-morrow for this
month, and when the dreadful to-morrow will be, I know not. But hark!
The house this instant shakes with the roar of cannon. I have been to
the door, and find it is a cannonade from our army. Orders, I find, are
come, for all the remaining militia to repair to the lines Monday night,
by twelve o’clock. No sleep for me to-night.”
On Sunday the letter is resumed. “I went to bed after twelve, but got no
rest; the cannon continued firing, and my heart kept pace with them all
night. We have had a pretty quiet day, but what to-morrow will bring
forth, God only knows.”
On Monday, the appointed evening, she continues: ’I have just returned
from Penn’s Hill, where I have been sitting to hear the amazing roar of
cannon, and from whence I could see every shell which was thrown. The
sound, I think, is one of the grandest in nature, and is of the true
species of the sublime. ’Tis now an incessant roar; but oh, the fatal
ideas which are connected with the sound! How many of our dear
countrymen must fall!
“I went to bed about twelve, and rose again a little after one. I could
no more sleep than if I had been in the engagement; the rattling of the
windows, the jar of the house, the continual roar of twenty-four
pounders, and the bursting of shells, give us such ideas, and realize a
scene to us of which we could scarcely form any conception. I hope to
give you joy of Boston, even if it is in ruins, before I send this
away.”
On the Monday evening thus graphically described, as soon as the firing
commenced, the detachment under General Thomas set out on its cautious
and secret march from the lines of Roxbury and Dorchester. Every thing
was conducted as regularly and quietly as possible. A covering party of
eight hundred men preceded the carts with the intrenching tools; then
came General Thomas with the working party, twelve hundred strong,
followed by a train of three hundred waggons, laden with fascines,
gabions, and hay screwed into bundles of seven or eight hundred weight.
A great number of such bundles were ranged in a line along Dorchester
Neck on the side next the enemy, to protect the troops, while passing,
from being raked by the fire of the enemy. Fortunately, although the
moon, as Washington writes, was shining in its full lustre, the flash
and roar of cannonry from opposite points, and the bursting of
bombshells high in the air, so engaged and diverted the attention of the
enemy, that the detachment reached the heights about eight o’clock,
without being heard or perceived. The covering party then divided; one
half proceeded to the point nearest Boston, the other to the one nearest
to Castle Williams. The working party commenced to fortify, under the
directions of Gridley, the veteran engineer, who had planned the works
on Bunker’s Hill. It was severe labor, for the earth was frozen eighteen
inches deep; but the men worked with more than their usual spirit; for
the eye of the commander-in-chief was upon them. Though not called there
by his duties, Washington could not be absent from this eventful
operation. An eloquent orator has imagined his situation—“All around him
intense movement; while nothing was to be heard excepting the tread of
busy feet, and the dull sound of the mattock upon the frozen soil.
Beneath him the slumbering batteries of the castle; the roadsteads and
harbor filled with the vessels of the royal fleet, motionless, except as
they swung round at their moorings at the turn of the midnight tide; the
beleaguered city occupied with a powerful army, and a considerable
non-combatant population, startled into unnatural vigilance by the
incessant and destructive cannonade, yet unobservant of the great
operations in progress so near them; the surrounding country, dotted
with a hundred rural settlements, roused from the deep sleep of a New
England village, by the unwonted glare and tumult.”[53]
The same plastic fancy suggests the crowd of visions, phantoms of the
past, which may have passed through Washington’s mind, on this night of
feverish excitement. “His early training in the wilderness; his escape
from drowning, and the deadly rifle of the savage in the perilous
mission to Venango; the shower of iron hail through which he rode
unharmed on Braddock’s field; the early stages of the great conflict now
brought to its crisis, and still more solemnly, the possibilities of the
future for himself and for America—the ruin of the patriot cause if he
failed at the outset; the triumphant consolidation of the Revolution if
he prevailed.”
The labors of the night were carried on by the Americans with their
usual activity and address. When a relief party arrived at four o’clock
in the morning, two forts were in sufficient forwardness to furnish
protection against small arms and grape-shot; and such use was made of
the fascines and bundles of screwed hay, that, at dawn, a
formidable-looking fortress frowned along the height. We have the
testimony of a British officer already quoted, for the fact. “This
morning at daybreak we discovered two redoubts on Dorchester Point, and
two smaller ones on their flanks. They were all raised during the last
night, with an expedition equal to that of the genii belonging to
Aladdin’s wonderful lamp. From these hills they command the whole town,
so that we must drive them from their post, or desert the place.”
Howe gazed at the mushroom fortress with astonishment, as it loomed
indistinctly, but grandly, through a morning fog. “The rebels,”
exclaimed he, “have done more work in one night, than my whole army
would have done in one month.”
Washington had watched, with intense anxiety, the effect of the
revelation at daybreak. “When the enemy first discovered our works in
the morning,” writes he, “they seemed to be in great confusion, and from
their movements, to intend an attack.”
An American, who was on Dorchester Heights, gives a picture of the
scene. A tremendous cannonade was commenced from the forts in Boston,
and the shipping in the harbor. “Cannon shot,” writes he, “are
continually rolling and rebounding over the hill, and it is astonishing
to observe how little our soldiers are terrified by them. The royal
troops are perceived to be in motion, as if embarking to pass the harbor
and land on Dorchester shore, to attack our works. The hills and
elevations in this vicinity are covered with spectators, to witness
deeds of horror in the expected conflict. His excellency, General
Washington, is present, animating and encouraging the soldiers, and they
in return manifest their joy; and express a warm desire for the approach
of the enemy; each man knows his own place. Our breastworks are
strengthened, and among the means of defence are a great number of
barrels, filled with stones and sand, and arranged in front of our
works, which are to be put in motion, and made to roll down the hill, to
break the legs of the assailants as they advance.”
General Thomas was reinforced with two thousand men. Old Putnam stood
ready to make a descent upon the north side of the town, with his four
thousand picked men, as soon as the heights on the south should be
assailed: “All the forenoon,” says the American above cited, “we were in
momentary expectation of witnessing an awful scene; nothing less than
the carnage of Breed’s Hill battle was expected.”
As Washington rode about the heights, he reminded the troops that it was
the 5th of March, the anniversary of the Boston massacre, and called on
them to revenge the slaughter of their brethren. They answered him with
shouts. “Our officers and men,” writes he, “appeared impatient for the
appeal. The event I think, must have been fortunate; nothing less than
success and victory on our side.”
Howe, in the mean time, was perplexed between his pride and the hazards
of his position. In his letters to the ministry, he had scouted the idea
of “being in danger from the rebels.” He had “hoped they would attack
him.” Apparently, they were about to fulfil his hopes, and with
formidable advantages of position. He must dislodge them from Dorchester
Heights, or evacuate Boston. The latter was an alternative too
mortifying to be readily adopted. He resolved on an attack, but it was
to be a night one.
“A body of light infantry, under the command of Major Mulgrave, and a
body of grenadiers, are to embark to-night at seven,” writes the gay
British officer already quoted. “I think it likely to be a general
affair. Adieu balls, masquerades, &c., for this may be looked upon as
the opening of the campaign.”
In the evening the British began to move. Lord Percy was to lead the
attack. Twenty-five hundred men were embarked in transports, which were
to convey them to the rendezvous at Castle William. A violent storm set
in from the east. The transports could not reach their place of
destination. The men-of-war could not cover and support them. A furious
surf beat on the shore where the boats would have to land. The attack
was consequently postponed until the following day.
That day was equally unpropitious. The storm continued, with torrents of
rain. The attack was again postponed. In the mean time, the Americans
went on strengthening their works; by the time the storm subsided,
General Howe deemed them too strong to be easily carried; the attempt,
therefore, was relinquished altogether.
What was to be done? The shells thrown from the heights into the town,
proved that it was no longer tenable. The fleet was equally exposed.
Admiral Shuldham, the successor to Graves, assured Howe that if the
Americans maintained possession of the heights, his ships could not
remain in the harbor. It was determined, therefore, in a council of war,
to evacuate the place as soon as possible. But now came on a humiliating
perplexity. The troops, in embarking, would be exposed to a destructive
fire. How was this to be prevented? General Howe’s pride would not
suffer him to make capitulations; he endeavored to work on the fears of
the Bostonians, by hinting that if his troops were molested while
embarking, he might be obliged to cover their retreat, by setting fire
to the town.
The hint had its effect. Several of the principal inhabitants
communicated with him through the medium of General Robertson. The
result of the negotiation was, that a paper was concocted and signed by
several of the “select men” of Boston, stating the fears they had
entertained of the destruction of the place, but that those fears had
been quieted by General Howe’s declaration that it should remain
uninjured, provided his troops were unmolested while embarking; the
select men, therefore, begged “some assurance that so dreadful a
calamity might not be brought on, by any measures from without.”
This paper was sent out from Boston, on the evening of the 8th, with a
flag of truce, which bore it to the American lines at Roxbury. There it
was received by Colonel Learned, and carried by him to head-quarters.
Washington consulted with such of the general officers as he could
immediately assemble. The paper was not addressed to him, nor to any one
else. It was not authenticated by the signature of General Howe; nor was
there any other act obliging that commander to fulfil the promise,
asserted to have been made by him. It was deemed proper, therefore, that
Washington should give no answer to the paper; but that Colonel Learned
should signify in a letter, his having laid it before the
commander-in-chief, and the reasons assigned for not answering it.
With this uncompromising letter, the flag returned to Boston. The
Americans suspended their fire, but continued to fortify their
positions. On the night of the 9th, a detachment was sent to plant a
battery on Nook’s Hill, an eminence at Dorchester, which lies nearest to
Boston Neck. A fire kindled behind the hill, revealed the project. It
provoked a cannonade from the British, which was returned with interest
from Cobble Hill, Lechmere Point, Cambridge, and Roxbury. The roar of
cannonry and bursting of bombshells prevailed from half after eight at
night, until six in the morning. It was another night of terror to the
people of Boston; but the Americans had to desist, for the present, from
the attempt to fortify Nook’s Hill. Among the accidents of the
bombardment, was the bursting of Putnam’s vaunted mortar, “the
Congress.”
Daily preparations were now made by the enemy for departure. By
proclamation, the inhabitants were ordered to deliver up all linen and
woollen goods, and all other goods, that, in possession of the rebels,
would aid them in carrying on the war. Crean Bush, a New York tory, was
authorized to take possession of such goods, and put them on board of
two of the transports. Under cover of his commission, he and his
myrmidons broke open stores, and stripped them of their contents.
Marauding gangs from the fleet and army followed their example, and
extended their depredations to private houses. On the 14th, Howe, in a
general order, declared that the first soldier caught plundering should
be hanged on the spot. Still on the 16th houses were broken open, goods
destroyed, and furniture defaced by the troops. Some of the furniture,
it is true, belonged to the officers, and was destroyed because they
could neither sell it nor carry it away.
The letter of a British officer gives a lively picture of the hurried
preparations for retreat. “Our not being burdened with provisions,
permitted us to save some stores and ammunition, the light field-pieces,
and such things as were most convenient of carriage. The rest, I am
sorry to say, we were obliged to leave behind; such of the guns as by
dismounting we could throw into the sea was so done. The carriages were
disabled, and every precaution taken that our circumstances would
permit; for our retreat was by agreement. The people of the town who
were friends to government, took care of nothing but their merchandise,
and found means to employ the men belonging to the transports in
embarking their goods, so that several of the vessels were entirely
filled with private property, instead of the king’s stores. By some
unavoidable accident, the medicines, surgeons’ chests, instruments, and
necessaries, were left in the hospital. The confusion unavoidable to
such a disaster, will make you conceive how much must be forgot, where
every man had a private concern. The necessary care and distress of the
women, children, sick, and wounded, required every assistance that could
be given. It was not like breaking up a camp, where every man knows his
duty; it was like departing your country with your wives, your servants,
your household furniture, and all your incumbrances. The officers, who
felt the disgrace of their retreat, did their utmost to keep up
appearances. The men, who thought they were changing for the better,
strove to take advantage of the present times, and were kept from
plunder and drink with difficulty.”[54]
For some days the embarkation of the troops was delayed by adverse
winds. Washington, who was imperfectly informed of affairs in Boston,
feared that the movements there might be a feint. Determined to bring
things to a crisis, he detached a force to Nook’s Hill on Saturday, the
16th, which threw up a breastwork in the night regardless of the
cannonading of the enemy. This commanded Boston Neck, and the south part
of the town, and a deserter brought a false report to the British that a
general assault was intended.
The embarkation, so long delayed, began with hurry and confusion at four
o’clock in the morning. The harbor of Boston soon presented a striking
and tumultuous scene. There were seventy-eight ships and transports
casting loose for sea, and eleven or twelve thousand men, soldiers,
sailors, and refugees, hurrying to embark; many, especially of the
latter, with their families and personal effects. The refugees, in fact,
labored under greater disadvantages than the king’s troops, being
obliged to man their own vessels, as sufficient seamen could not be
spared from the king’s transports. Speaking of those “who had taken upon
themselves the style and title of government men” in Boston, and acted
an unfriendly part in this great contest, Washington observes: “By all
accounts there never existed a more miserable set of beings than these
wretched creatures now are. Taught to believe that the power of Great
Britain was superior to all opposition, and that foreign aid, if not,
was at hand, they were even higher and more insulting in their
opposition than the Regulars. When the order issued, therefore, for
embarking the troops in Boston, no electric shock—no sudden clap of
thunder,—in a word, the last trump could not have struck them with
greater consternation. They were at their wits’ end, and conscious of
their black ingratitude, chose to commit themselves, in the manner I
have above described, to the mercy of the waves at a tempestuous season,
rather than meet their offended countrymen.”[55]
While this tumultuous embarkation was going on, the Americans looked on
in silence from their batteries on Dorchester Heights, without firing a
shot. “It was lucky for the inhabitants now left in Boston, that they
did not,” writes a British officer; “for I am informed every thing was
prepared to set the town in a blaze, had they fired one cannon.”[56]
At an early hour of the morning, the troops stationed at Cambridge and
Roxbury had paraded, and several regiments under Putnam had embarked in
boats, and dropped down Charles River, to Sewall’s Point, to watch the
movements of the enemy by land and water. About nine o’clock a large
body of troops was seen marching down Bunker’s Hill, while boats full of
soldiers were putting off for the shipping. Two scouts were sent from
the camp to reconnoitre. The works appeared still to be occupied, for
sentries were posted about them with shouldered muskets. Observing them
to be motionless, the scouts made nearer scrutiny, and discovered them
to be mere effigies, set up to delay the advance of the Americans.
Pushing on, they found the works deserted, and gave signal of the fact;
whereupon, a detachment was sent from the camp to take possession.
Part of Putnam’s troops were now sent back to Cambridge; a part were
ordered forward to occupy Boston. General Ward, too, with five hundred
men, made his way from Roxbury, across the neck, about which the enemy
had scattered caltrops or crow’s feet,[57] to impede invasion. The gates
were unbarred and thrown open, and the Americans entered in triumph,
with drums beating and colors flying.
By ten o’clock the enemy were all embarked and under way: Putnam had
taken command of the city, and occupied the important points, and the
flag of thirteen stripes, the standard of the Union, floated above all
the forts.
On the following day, Washington himself entered the town, where he was
joyfully welcomed. He beheld around him sad traces of the devastation
caused by the bombardment, though not to the extent that he had
apprehended. There were evidences, also, of the haste with which the
British had retreated—five pieces of ordnance with their trunnions
knocked off; others hastily spiked; others thrown off the wharf.
“General Howe’s retreat,” writes Washington, “was precipitate beyond
anything I could have conceived. The destruction of the stores at
Dunbar’s camp, after Braddock’s defeat, was but a faint image of what
may be seen at Boston; artillery carts cut to pieces in one place, gun
carriages in another; shells broke here, shots buried there, and every
thing carrying with it the face of disorder and confusion, as also of
distress.”[58]
To add to the mortification of General Howe, he received, we are told,
while sailing out of the harbor, despatches from the ministry, approving
the resolution he had so strenuously expressed, of maintaining his post
until he should receive reinforcements.
As the smallpox prevailed in some parts of the town, precautions were
taken by Washington for its purification; and the main body of the army
did not march in until the 20th. “The joy manifested in the countenances
of the inhabitants,” says an observer, “was overcast by the melancholy
gloom caused by ten tedious months of siege;” but when, on the 22d, the
people from the country crowded into the town, “it was truly
interesting,” writes the same observer, “to witness the tender
interviews and fond embraces of those who had been long separated under
circumstances so peculiarly distressing.”[59]
Notwithstanding the haste with which the British army was embarked, the
fleet lingered for some days in Nantucket Road. Apprehensive that the
enemy, now that their forces were collected in one body, might attempt
by some blow to retrieve their late disgrace, Washington hastily threw
up works on Fort Hill, which commanded the harbor, and demolished those
which protected the town from the neighboring country. The fleet at
length disappeared entirely from the coast, and the deliverance of
Boston was assured.
The eminent services of Washington throughout this arduous siege, his
admirable management, by which, “in the course of a few months, _an
undisciplined band of husbandmen_ became soldiers, and were enabled to
invest, for nearly a year, and finally to expel a brave army of
veterans, commanded by the most experienced generals,” drew forth the
enthusiastic applause of the nation. No higher illustration of this
great achievement need be given, than the summary of it contained in the
speech of a British statesman, the Duke of Manchester, in the House of
Lords. “The army of Britain,” said he, “equipped with every possible
essential of war; a chosen army, with chosen officers, backed by the
power of a mighty fleet, sent to correct revolted subjects; sent to
chastise a resisting city; sent to assert Britain’s authority;—has, for
many tedious months, been imprisoned within that town by the Provincial
army; who, their watchful guards, permitted them no inlet to the
country; who braved all their efforts, and defied all their skill and
ability in war could ever attempt. One way, indeed, of escape was left;
the fleet is yet respected; to the fleet the army has recourse; and
British generals, whose name never met with a blot of dishonor, are
forced to quit that town which was the first object of the war, the
immediate cause of hostilities, the place of arms, which has cost this
nation more than a million to defend.”
We close this eventful chapter of Washington’s history, with the honor
decreed to him by the highest authority of his country. On motion of
John Adams, who had first moved his nomination as commander-in-chief, a
unanimous vote of thanks to him was passed in Congress; and it was
ordered that a gold medal be struck, commemorating the evacuation of
Boston, bearing the effigy of Washington as its deliverer.
CHAPTER XIX.
DESTINATION OF THE FLEET—COMMISSION OF THE TWO HOWES—CHARACTER OF LORD
HOWE—THE COLONIES DIVIDED INTO DEPARTMENTS—LEE ASSIGNED TO THE SOUTHERN
DEPARTMENT—GENERAL THOMAS TO CANADA—CHARACTER OF LEE, BY
WASHINGTON—LETTERS OF LEE FROM THE SOUTH—A DOG IN A DANCING
SCHOOL—COMMITTEE OF SAFETY IN VIRGINIA—LEE’S GRENADIERS—PUTNAM IN
COMMAND AT NEW YORK—STATE OF AFFAIRS THERE—ARRIVAL OF WASHINGTON—NEW
ARRANGEMENTS—PERPLEXITIES WITH RESPECT TO CANADA—ENGLAND SUBSIDIZES
HESSIAN TROOPS.
The British fleet bearing the army from Boston, had disappeared from the
coast. “Whither they are bound, and where they next will pitch their
tents,” writes Washington, “I know not.” He conjectured their
destination to be New York, and made his arrangements accordingly; but
he was mistaken. General Howe had steered for Halifax, there to await
the arrival of strong reinforcements from England, and the fleet of his
brother, Admiral Lord Howe; who was to be commander-in-chief of the
naval forces on the North American station.
It was thought these brothers would co-operate admirably in the exercise
of their relative functions on land and water. Yet they were widely
different in their habits and dispositions. Sir William, easy, indolent,
and self-indulgent, “hated business,” we are told, “and never did any.
Lord Howe loved it, dwelt upon it, never could leave it.” Beside his
nautical commands, he had been treasurer of the navy, member of the
board of admiralty, and had held a seat in Parliament; where, according
to Walpole, he was “silent as a rock,” excepting when naval affairs were
under discussion; when he spoke briefly and to the point. “My Lord
Howe,” said George II., “your life has been a continued series of
services to your country.” He was now about fifty-one years of age,
tall, and well proportioned like his brother; but wanting his ease of
deportment. His complexion was dark, his countenance grave and strongly
marked, and he had a shy reserve, occasionally mistaken for haughtiness.
As a naval officer, he was esteemed resolute and enterprising, yet cool
and firm. In his younger days he had contracted a friendship for Wolfe;
“it was like the union of cannon and gunpowder,” said Walpole. Howe,
strong in mind, solid in judgment, firm of purpose, was said to be the
cannon; Wolfe, quick in conception, prompt in execution, impetuous in
action—the gunpowder.[60] The bravest man, we are told, could not wish
for a more able, or more gallant commander than Howe, and the sailors
used to say of him, “Give us Black Dick, and we fear nothing.”
Such is his lordship’s portrait as sketched by English pencils; we shall
see hereafter how far his conduct conforms to it. At present we must
consider the state of the American army, in the appointments and
commands of which various changes had recently taken place.
It was presumed the enemy, in the ensuing campaign, would direct their
operations against the Middle and Southern colonies. Congress divided
those colonies into two departments; one, comprehending New York, New
Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware and Maryland, was to be under the command
of a major-general, and two brigadier-generals; the other, comprising
Virginia, the Carolinas and Georgia, to be under the command of a
major-general, and four brigadiers.
In this new arrangement, the orders destining General Lee to Canada,
were superseded, and he was appointed to the command of the Southern
department, where he was to keep watch upon the movements of Sir Henry
Clinton. He was somewhat dissatisfied with the change in his
destination. “As I am the only general officer on the continent,” writes
he to Washington, “who can speak or think in French, I confess I think
it would have been more prudent to have sent me to Canada; but I shall
obey with alacrity, and I hope with success.”
In reply, Washington observes, “I was just about to congratulate you on
your appointment to the command in Canada, when I received the account
that your destination was altered. As a Virginian, I must rejoice at the
change, but as an American, I think you would have done more essential
service to the common cause in Canada. For, besides the advantage of
speaking and thinking in French, an officer who is acquainted with their
manners and customs, and has travelled in their country, must certainly
take the strongest hold of their affection and confidence.”
The command in Canada was given to General Thomas, who had distinguished
himself at Roxbury, and was promoted to the rank of major-general. It
would have been given to Schuyler, out for the infirm state of his
health; still Congress expressed a reliance on his efforts to complete
the work “so conspicuously begun and well conducted” under his orders,
in the last campaign; and, as not merely the success but the very
existence of the army in Canada would depend on supplies sent from these
colonies across the lakes, he was required, until further orders, to fix
his head-quarters at Albany, where, without being exposed to the fatigue
of the camp until his health was perfectly restored, he would be in a
situation to forward supplies; to superintend the operations necessary
for the defence of New York and the Hudson River, and the affairs of the
whole middle department.
Lee set out for the South on the 7th of March, carrying with him his
bold spirit, his shrewd sagacity, and his whimsical and splenetic
humors. The following admirably impartial sketch is given of him by
Washington, in a letter to his brother Augustine: “He is the first in
military knowledge and experience we have in the whole army. He is
zealously attached to the cause; honest and well meaning, but rather
fickle and violent, I fear, in his temper. However, as he possesses an
uncommon share of good sense and spirit, I congratulate my countrymen on
his appointment to that department.”[61]
We give by anticipation a few passages from Lee’s letters, illustrative
of his character and career. The news of the evacuation of Boston
reached him in Virginia. In a letter to Washington, dated Williamsburg,
April 5, he expresses himself on the subject with generous warmth. “My
dear general,” writes he, “I most sincerely congratulate you; I
congratulate the public, on the great and glorious event, your
possession of Boston. It will be a most bright page in the annals of
America, and a most abominable black one in those of the beldam Britain.
Go on, my dear general; crown yourself with glory, and establish the
liberties and lustre of your country on a foundation more permanent than
the Capitol rock.”
Then reverting to himself, his subacid humors work up, and he shows that
he had been as much annoyed in Williamsburg, by the interference of
committees, as he had been in New York. “My situation,” writes he, “is
just as I expected. I am afraid I shall make a shabby figure, without
any real demerits of my own. I am like a dog in a dancing-school; I know
not where to turn myself, where to fix myself. The circumstances of the
country, intersected with navigable rivers; the uncertainty of the
enemy’s designs and motions, who can fly in an instant to any spot they
choose, with their canvas wings, throw me, or would throw Julius Cæsar
into this inevitable dilemma; I may possibly be in the North, when, as
Richard says, I should serve my sovereign in the West. I can only act
from surmise, and have a very good chance of surmising wrong. I am sorry
to grate your ears with a truth, but must, at all events, assure you,
that the Provincial Congress of New York are angels of decision, when
compared with your countrymen, the committee of safety assembled at
Williamsburg. Page, Lee, Mercer and Payne, are, indeed, exceptions; but
from Pendleton, Bland, the Treasurer and Co.—_Libera nos domine!_”
Lee’s letters from Virginia, written at a later date, were in a better
humor. “There is a noble spirit in this province pervading all orders of
men; if the same becomes universal, we shall be saved. I am, fortunately
for my own happiness, and, I think, for the well-being of the community,
on the best terms with the senatorial part, as well as the people at
large. I shall endeavor to preserve their confidence and good
opinion.”[62]
And in a letter to Washington:
“I have formed two companies of grenadiers to each regiment, and with
spears thirteen feet long. Their rifles (for they are all riflemen)
sling over their shoulders, their appearance is formidable, and the men
are conciliated to the weapon. * * * I am likewise furnishing myself
with four-ounced rifled amusettes, which will carry an infernal
distance; the two-ounced hit a half sheet of paper, at five hundred
yards distance.”
On Lee’s departure for the South, Brigadier-general Lord Stirling had
remained in temporary command at New York. Washington, however,
presuming that the British fleet had steered for that port, with the
force which had evacuated Boston, hastened detachments thither under
Generals Heath and Sullivan, and wrote for three thousand additional men
to be furnished by Connecticut. The command of the whole he gave to
General Putnam, who was ordered to fortify the city and the passes of
the Hudson, according to the plans of General Lee. In the mean time,
Washington delayed to come on himself, until he should have pushed
forward the main body of his army by divisions.
Lee’s anticipations that laxity and confusion would prevail after his
departure, were not realized. The veteran Putnam, on taking command, put
the city under rigorous military rule. Tho soldiers were to retire to
their barracks and quarters at the beating of the tattoo, and remain
there until the reveille in the morning. The inhabitants were subjected
to the same rule. None would be permitted to pass a sentry, without the
countersign, which would be furnished to them on applying to any of the
brigade majors. All communication between the “ministerial fleet” and
shore was stopped; the ships were no longer to be furnished with
provisions. Any person taken in the act of holding communication with
them would be considered an enemy, and treated accordingly.
We have a lively picture of the state of the city, in letters written at
the time, and already cited. “When you are informed that New York is
deserted by its old inhabitants, and filled with soldiers from New
England, Philadelphia, Jersey, &c., you will naturally conclude the
environs of it are not very safe from so undisciplined a multitude as
our Provincials are represented to be; but I do believe there are very
few instances of so great a number of men together, with so little
mischief done by them. They have all the simplicity of ploughmen in
their manners, and seem quite strangers to the vices of older soldiers:
they have been employed in creating fortifications in every part of the
town. * * * Governor Tryon loses his credit with the people here
prodigiously; he has lately issued a proclamation, desiring the deluded
people of this colony to return to their obedience, promising a speedy
support to the friends of government, declaring a door of mercy open to
the penitent, and a rod for the disobedient, &c. The friends of
government were provoked at being so distinguished, and the friends to
liberty hung him in effigy, and printed a dying speech for him. A
letter, too, was intercepted from him, hastening Lord Howe to New York,
as the rebels were fortifying. These have entirely lost him the good
will of the people. * * * You cannot think how sorry I am the governor
has so lost himself, a man once so much beloved. O Lucifer, once the son
of morn, how fallen! General Washington is expected hourly; General
Putnam is here, with several other generals, and some of their
ladies. * * * The variety of reports keeps one’s mind always in
agitation. Clinton and Howe have set the continent a racing from Boston
to Carolina. Clinton came into our harbor: away flew the women,
children, goods and chattels, and in came the soldiers flocking from
every part. No sooner was it known that he was not going to land here,
than expresses were sent to Virginia and Carolina, to put them on their
guard; his next expedition was to Virginia; there they were ready to
receive him; from thence without attempting to land, he sailed to
Carolina. Now General Howe is leading us another dance.”[63]
Washington came on by the way of Providence, Norwich and New London,
expediting the embarkation of troops from these posts, and arrived at
New York on the 13th of April. Many of the works which Lee had commenced
were by this time finished; others were in progress. It was apprehended
the principal operations of the enemy would be on Long Island, the high
grounds of which, in the neighborhood of Brooklyn, commanded the city.
Washington saw that an able and efficient officer was needed at that
place. Greene was accordingly stationed there, with a division of the
army. He immediately proceeded to complete the fortifications of that
important post, and to make himself acquainted with the topography, and
the defensive points of the surrounding country.
The aggregate force distributed at several extensive posts in New York
and its environs, and on Long Island, Staten Island and elsewhere,
amounted to little more than ten thousand men; some of those were on the
sick list, others absent on command, or on furlough; there were but
about eight thousand available and fit for duty. These, too, were
without pay; those recently enlisted, without arms, and no one could say
where arms were to be procured.
Washington saw the inadequacy of the force to the purposes required, and
was full of solicitude about the security of a place, the central point
of the Confederacy, and the grand deposit of ordnance and military
stores. He was aware too, of the disaffection to the cause among many of
the inhabitants; and apprehensive of treachery. The process of
fortifying the place had induced the ships of war to fall down into the
outer bay, within the Hook, upwards of twenty miles from the city; but
Governor Tryon was still on board of one of them, keeping up an active
correspondence with the tories on Staten and Long Islands, and in other
parts of the neighborhood.
Washington took an early occasion to address an urgent letter to the
committee of safety, pointing out the dangerous, and even treasonable
nature of this correspondence. He had more weight and influence with
that body than had been possessed by General Lee, and procured the
passage of a resolution prohibiting, under severe penalties, all
intercourse with the king’s ships.
Head-quarters, at this time, was a scene of incessant toil on the part
of the commander-in-chief, his secretaries and aides-de-camp. “I give in
to no kind of amusements myself,” writes he, “and consequently those
about me can have none, but are confined from morning until evening,
hearing and answering applications and letters.” The presence of Mrs.
Washington was a solace in the midst of these stern military cares, and
diffused a feminine grace and decorum, and a cheerful spirit over the
domestic arrangements of head-quarters, where every thing was conducted
with simplicity and dignity. The wives of some of the other generals and
officers rallied around Mrs. Washington, but social intercourse was
generally at an end. “We all live here,” writes a lady of New York,
“like nuns shut up in a nunnery. No society with the town, for there are
none there to visit; neither can we go in or out after a certain hour
without the countersign.”
In addition to his cares about the security of New York, Washington had
to provide for the perilous exigencies of the army in Canada. Since his
arrival in the city, four regiments of troops, a company of riflemen and
another of artificers had been detached under the command of
Brigadier-general Thompson, and a further corps of six regiments under
Brigadier-general Sullivan, with orders to join General Thomas as soon
as possible.
Still Congress inquired of him, whether further reinforcements to the
army in Canada would not be necessary, and whether they could be spared
from the army in New York. His reply shows the peculiar perplexities of
his situation, and the tormenting uncertainty in which he was kept, as
to where the next storm of war would break. “With respect to sending
more troops to that country, I am really at a loss what to advise, as it
is impossible, at present, to know the designs of the enemy. Should they
send the whole force under General Howe up the river St. Lawrence, to
relieve Quebec and recover Canada, the troops gone and now going, will
be insufficient to stop their progress; and, should they think proper to
send that, or an equal force, this way from Great Britain, for the
purpose of possessing this city and securing the navigation of Hudson’s
River, the troops left here will not be sufficient to oppose them; and
yet, for any thing we know, I think it not improbable they may attempt
both; both being of the greatest importance to them, if they have men. I
could wish, indeed, that the army in Canada should be more powerfully
reinforced; at the same time, I am conscious that the trusting of this
important post, which is now become the grand magazine of America, to
the handful of men remaining here, is running too great a risk. The
securing of this post and Hudson’s River is to us also of so great
importance, that I cannot, at present, advise the sending any more
troops from hence; on the contrary, the general officers now here, whom
I thought it my duty to consult, think it absolutely necessary to
increase the army at this place with at least ten thousand men;
especially when it is considered, that from this place only the army in
Canada must draw its supplies of ammunition, provisions, and most
probably of men.”
Washington at that time was not aware of the extraordinary expedients
England had recently resorted to, against the next campaign. The Duke of
Brunswick, the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel, and the Hereditary Prince of
Cassel, Count of Hanau, had been subsidized to furnish troops to assist
in the subjugation of her colonies. Four thousand three hundred
Brunswick troops, and nearly thirteen thousand Hessians, had entered the
British service. Beside the subsidy exacted by the German princes, they
were to be paid seven pounds four shillings and four pence sterling for
every soldier furnished by them, and as much more for every one slain.
Of this notable arrangement, Washington, as we observed, was not yet
aware. “The designs of the enemy,” writes he, “are too much behind the
curtain for me to form any accurate opinion of their plan of operations
for the summer’s campaign. We are left to wander, therefore, in the
field of conjecture.”[64]
Within a few days afterwards, he had vague accounts of “Hessians and
Hanoverian troops coming over;” but it was not until the 17th of May,
when he received letters from General Schuyler, inclosing others from
the commanders in Canada, that he knew in what direction some of these
bolts of war were launched; and this calls for some further particulars
of the campaign on the banks of the St. Lawrence; which we shall give to
the reader in the ensuing chapter.
CHAPTER XX.
ARNOLD BLOCKADES QUEBEC—HIS DIFFICULTIES—ARRIVAL OF GENERAL WOOSTER—OF
GENERAL THOMAS—ABORTIVE ATTEMPT ON QUEBEC—PREPARATIONS FOR
RETREAT—SORTIE OF CARLETON—RETREAT OF THE AMERICANS—HALT AT POINT
DESCHAMBAULT—ALARM IN THE COLONIES AT THE RETREAT OF THE ARMY—POPULAR
CLAMOR AGAINST SCHUYLER—SLANDERS REFUTED.
In a former chapter, we left Arnold before the walls of Quebec, wounded,
crippled, almost disabled, yet not disheartened; blockading that “proud
town” with a force inferior, by half, in number to that of the garrison.
For his gallant services, Congress promoted him in January to the rank
of brigadier-general.
Throughout the winter he kept up the blockade with his shattered army;
though had Carleton ventured upon a sortie, he might have been forced to
decamp. That cautious general, however, remained within his walls. He
was sure of reinforcements from England in the spring, and, in the mean
time, trusted to the elements of dissolution at work in the besieging
army.
Arnold, in truth, had difficulties of all kinds to contend with. His
military chest was exhausted; his troops were in want of necessaries; to
procure supplies, he was compelled to resort to the paper money issued
by Congress, which was uncurrent among the Canadians; he issued a
proclamation making the refusal to take it in payment a penal offence.
This only produced irritation and disgust. As the terms of their
enlistment expired, his men claimed their discharge and returned home.
Sickness also thinned his ranks; so that, at one time, his force was
reduced to five hundred men, and for two months, with all his
recruitments of raw militia, did not exceed seven hundred.
The failure of the attack on Quebec had weakened the cause among the
Canadians; the peasantry had been displeased by the conduct of the
American troops; they had once welcomed them as deliverers; they now
began to regard them as intruders. The seigneurs, or noblesse, also,
feared to give further countenance to an invasion, which, if defeated,
might involve them in ruin.
Notwithstanding all these discouragements, Arnold still kept up a bold
face; cut off supplies occasionally, and harassed the place with alarms.
Having repaired his batteries, he opened a fire upon the town, but with
little effect; the best part of the artillerists, with Lamb, their
capable commander, were prisoners within the walls.
On the 1st day of April, General Wooster arrived from Montreal, with
reinforcements, and took the command. The day after his arrival, Arnold,
by the falling of his horse, again received an injury on the leg
recently wounded, and was disabled for upwards of a week. Considering
himself slighted by General Wooster, who did not consult him in military
affairs, he obtained leave of absence until he should be recovered from
his lameness, and repaired to Montreal, where he took command.
General Thomas arrived at the camp in the course of April, and found the
army in a forlorn condition, scattered at different posts, and on the
island of Orleans. It was numerically increased to upwards of two
thousand men, but several hundred were unfit for service. The smallpox
had made great ravages. They had inoculated each other. In their sick
and debilitated state, they were without barracks, and almost without
medicine. A portion, whose term of enlistment had expired, refused to do
duty, and clamored for their discharge.
The winter was over, the river was breaking up, reinforcements to the
garrison might immediately be expected, and then the case would be
desperate. Observing that the river about Quebec was clear of ice,
General Thomas determined on a bold effort. It was, to send up a
fire-ship with the flood, and, while the ships in the harbor were in
flames, and the town in confusion, to scale the walls.
Accordingly, on the third of May, the troops turned out with scaling
ladders; the fire-ship came up the river under easy sail, and arrived
near the shipping before it was discovered. It was fired into. The crew
applied a slow match to the train and pulled off. The ship was soon in a
blaze, but the flames caught and consumed the sails; her way was
checked, and she drifted off harmlessly with the ebbing tide. The rest
of the plan was, of course, abandoned.
Nothing now remained but to retreat before the enemy should be
reinforced. Preparations were made in all haste, to embark the sick and
the military stores. While this was taking place, five ships made their
way into the harbor, on the 6th of May, and began to land troops. Thus
reinforced, General Carleton sallied forth, with eight hundred or a
thousand men. We quote his own letter for an account of his sortie. “As
soon as part of the 29th regiment with the marines, in all about two
hundred, were landed, they, with the greatest part of the garrison, by
this time much improved, and in high spirits, marched out of the ports
of St. Louis and St. Johns, to see what these mighty boasters were
about. They were found very busy in their preparations for a retreat. A
few shots being exchanged, the line marched forward, and the place was
soon cleared of these plunderers.”
By his own account, however, these “mighty boasters” had held him and
his garrison closely invested for five months; had burnt the suburbs;
battered the walls; thrown red-hot shot among the shipping; made
repeated and daring attempts to carry the place by assault and
stratagem, and rendered it necessary for soldiers, sailors, marines, and
even judges and other civil officers to mount guard.[65] One officer
declares, in a letter, that for eighty successive nights he slept in his
clothes, to be ready in case of alarm.
All this, too, was effected by a handful of men, exposed in open
encampments to the rigors of a Canadian winter. If in truth they were
boasters, it must be allowed their deeds were equal to their words.
The Americans were in no condition to withstand Carleton’s unlooked-for
attack. They had no intrenchments, and could not muster three hundred
men at any point. A precipitate retreat was the consequence, in which
baggage, artillery, every thing was abandoned. Even the sick were left
behind; many of whom crawled away from the camp hospitals, and took
refuge in the woods, or among the Canadian peasantry.
General Carleton did not think it prudent to engage in a pursuit with
his newly-landed troops. He treated the prisoners with great humanity,
and caused the sick to be sought out in their hiding-places, and brought
to the general hospitals; with assurances, that, when healed, they
should have liberty to return to their homes.
General Thomas came to a halt at Point Deschambault, about sixty miles
above Quebec, and called a council of war to consider what was to be
done. The enemy’s ships were hastening up the St. Lawrence; some were
already but two or three leagues distant. The camp was without cannon;
powder, forwarded by General Schuyler, had fallen into the enemy’s
hands; there were not provisions enough to subsist the army for more
than two or three days; the men-of-war, too, might run up the river,
intercept all their resources, and reduce them to the same extremity
they had experienced before Quebec. It was resolved, therefore, to
ascend the river still further.
General Thomas, however, determined to send forward the invalids, but to
remain at Point Deschambault with about five hundred men, until he
should receive orders from Montreal, and learn whether such supplies
could be forwarded immediately as would enable him to defend his
position.[66]
The despatches of General Thomas, setting forth the disastrous state of
affairs, had a disheartening effect on Schuyler, who feared the army
would be obliged to abandon Canada. Washington, on the contrary, spoke
cheeringly on the subject. “We must not despair. A manly and spirited
opposition only can insure success, and prevent the enemy from improving
the advantage they have obtained.”[67]
He regretted that the troops had not been able to make a stand at Point
Deschambault, but hoped they would maintain a post as far down the river
as possible. The lower it was, the more important would be the
advantages resulting from it, as all the country above would be
favorable, and furnish assistance and support; while all below would
necessarily be in the power of the enemy.
The tidings of the reverses in Canada and the retreat of the American
army, had spread consternation throughout the New Hampshire Grants, and
the New England frontiers, which would now be laid open to invasion.
Committees of towns and districts assembled in various places, to
consult on the alarming state of affairs. In a time of adversity, it
relieves the public mind to have some individual on whom to charge its
disasters. General Schuyler, at present, was to be the victim. We have
already noticed the prejudice and ill will, on the part of the New
England people, which had harassed him throughout the campaign, and
nearly driven him from the service. His enemies now stigmatized him as
the cause of the late reverses. He had neglected, they said, to forward
reinforcements and supplies to the army in Canada. His magnanimity in
suffering Sir John Johnson to go at large, while in his power, was again
misconstrued into a crime: he had thus enabled that dangerous man to
renew his hostilities. Finally, it was insinuated that he was untrue to
his country, if not positively leagued with her enemies.
These imputations were not generally advanced; and when advanced, were
not generally countenanced; but a committee of King’s County appears to
have given them credence, addressing a letter to the commander-in-chief
on the subject, accompanied by documents.
Washington, to whom Schuyler’s heart had been laid open throughout all
its trials, and who knew its rectitude, received the letter and
documents with indignation and disgust, and sent copies of them to the
general. “From these,” said he, “you will readily discover the
diabolical and insidious arts and schemes carrying on by the tories and
friends of government to raise distrust, dissensions, and divisions
among us. Having the utmost confidence in your integrity, and the most
incontestable proof of your great attachment to our common country and
its interest, I could not but look upon the charge against you with an
eye of disbelief, and sentiments of detestation and abhorrence; nor
should I have troubled you with the matter, had I not been informed that
copies were sent to different committees, and to Governor Trumbull,
which I conceived would get abroad, and that you, should you find I had
been furnished with them, would consider my suppressing them as an
evidence of my belief, or at best of my doubts, of the charges.”[68]
We will go forward, and give the sequel of this matter. While the
imputations in question had merely floated in public rumor, Schuyler had
taken no notice of them; “but it is now,” writes he in reply to
Washington, “a duty which I owe myself and my country, to detect the
scoundrels, and the only means of doing this is by requesting that an
immediate inquiry be made into the matter; when I trust it will appear
that it was more a scheme calculated to ruin me, than to disunite and
create jealousies in the friends of America. Your Excellency will,
therefore, please to order a court of inquiry the soonest possible; for
I cannot sit easy under such an infamous imputation; since on this
extensive continent, numbers of the most respectable characters may not
know what your Excellency and Congress do of my principles and exertions
in the common cause.”
He further adds: “I am informed by persons of good credit, that about
one hundred persons, living on what are commonly called the New
Hampshire Grants, have had a design to seize me as a tory, and perhaps
still have. There never was a man so infamously scandalized and
ill-treated as I am.”
We need only add, that the Berkshire committees which, in a time of
agitation and alarm, had hastily given countenance to these imputations,
investigated them deliberately in their cooler moments, and
acknowledged, in a letter to Washington, that they were satisfied their
suspicions respecting General Schuyler were wholly groundless. “We
sincerely hope,” added they, “his name may be handed down, with immortal
honor, to the latest posterity, as one of the great pillars of the
American cause.”
CHAPTER XXI.
GATES SENT TO PHILADELPHIA WITH THE CANADA DESPATCHES—PROMOTED TO THE
RANK OF MAJOR-GENERAL—WASHINGTON SUMMONED TO PHILADELPHIA—PUTNAM LEFT IN
COMMAND—CONFERENCE WITH CONGRESS—ARMY ARRANGEMENTS—A BOARD OF WAR
INSTITUTED—THE CLINTONS OF NEW YORK—MRS. WASHINGTON INOCULATED—REED MADE
ADJUTANT-GENERAL.
As the reverses in Canada would affect the fortunes of the Revolution
elsewhere, Washington sent General Gates to lay the despatches
concerning them, before Congress. “His military experience,” said he,
“and intimate acquaintance with the situation of our affairs, will
enable him to give Congress the fullest satisfaction about the measures
necessary to be adopted at this alarming crisis; and, with his zeal and
attachment to the cause of America, he will have a claim to their notice
and favors.”
Scarce had Gates departed on his mission (May 19th), when Washington
himself received a summons to Philadelphia, to advise with Congress
concerning the opening campaign. He was informed also that Gates, on the
16th of May, had been promoted to the rank of major-general, and Mifflin
to that of brigadier-general, and a wish was intimated that they might
take the command of Boston.
Washington prepared to proceed to Philadelphia. His general orders
issued on the 19th of May, show the anxious situation of affairs at New
York. In case of an alarm the respective regiments were to draw up
opposite to their encampments or quarters, until ordered to repair to
the alarm posts. The alarm signals for regulars, militia, and the
inhabitants of the city, were, in the daytime—two cannon fired from the
rampart at Fort George, and a flag hoisted on the top of Washington’s
head-quarters. In the night—two cannon fired as above, and two lighted
lanterns hoisted on the top of head-quarters.[69]
In his parting instructions to Putnam, who, as the oldest major-general
in the city, would have the command during his absence, Washington
informed him of the intention of the Provincial Congress of New York to
seize the principal tories, and disaffected persons in the city, and the
surrounding country, especially on Long Island, and authorized him to
afford military aid, if required, to carry the same into execution. He
was also to send Lord Stirling, Colonel Putnam the engineer, and Colonel
Knox, if he could be spared, up to the Highlands, to examine the state
of the forts and garrisons, and report what was necessary to put them in
a posture of defence. Their garrisons were chiefly composed of parts of
a regiment of New York troops, commanded by Colonel James Clinton, of
Ulster County, and were said to be sufficient.
The general, accompanied by Mrs. Washington, departed from New York on
the 21st of May, and they were invited by Mr. Hancock, the President of
Congress, to be his guests during their sojourn at Philadelphia.
Lee, when he heard of Washington’s visit there, augured good effects
from it. “I am extremely glad, dear general,” writes he, “that you are
in Philadelphia, for their councils sometimes lack a little of military
electricity.”
Washington, in his conferences with Congress, appears to have furnished
this electricity. He roundly expressed his conviction, that no
accommodation could be effected with Great Britain, on acceptable terms.
Ministerialists had declared in Parliament, that, the sword being drawn,
the most coercive measures would be persevered in, until there was
complete submission. The recent subsidizing of foreign troops was a part
of this policy, and indicated unsparing hostility. A protracted war,
therefore, was inevitable; but it would be impossible to carry it on
successfully, with the scanty force actually embodied, and with
transient enlistments of militia.
In consequence of his representations, resolutions were passed in
Congress that soldiers should be enlisted for three years, with a bounty
of ten dollars for each recruit; that the army at New York should be
reinforced until the 1st of December, with thirteen thousand eight
hundred militia; that gondolas and fire rafts should be built, to
prevent the men-of-war and enemy’s ships from coming into New York Bay,
or the Narrows; and that a flying camp of ten thousand militia,
furnished by Pennsylvania, Delaware and Maryland, and likewise engaged
until the 1st December, should be stationed in the Jerseys for the
defence of the Middle colonies. Washington was, moreover, empowered, in
case of emergency, to call on the neighboring colonies for temporary aid
with their militia.
Another important result of his conferences with Congress was the
establishment of a war office. Military affairs had hitherto been
referred in Congress to committees casually appointed, and had
consequently been subject to great irregularity and neglect. Henceforth
a permanent committee, entitled the Board of War and Ordnance, was to
take cognizance of them. The first board was composed of five members;
John Adams, Colonel Benjamin Harrison, Roger Sherman, James Wilson, and
Edward Rutledge; with Richard Peters as secretary. It went into
operation on the 12th of June.
While at Philadelphia, Washington had frequent consultations with George
Clinton, one of the delegates from New York, concerning the interior
defences of that province, especially those connected with the security
of the Highlands of the Hudson, where part of the regiment of Colonel
James Clinton, the brother of the delegate, was stationed. The important
part which these brothers were soon to act in the military affairs of
that province, and ultimately in its political history, entitles them to
a special notice.
They were of the old Clinton stock of England; being descended from
General James Clinton, an adherent of royalty in the time of the civil
wars, but who passed over to Ireland, after the death of Charles I.
Their father, Charles Clinton, grandson of the general, emigrated to
America in 1729, and settled in Ulster, now Orange County, just above
the Highlands of the Hudson. Though not more than fifty miles from the
city of New York, it was at that time on the borders of a wilderness,
where every house had at times to be a fortress. Charles Clinton, like
most men on our savage frontier in those days, was a warrior by
necessity, if not by choice. He took an active part in Indian and French
wars, commanded a provincial regiment stationed at Fort Herkimer, joined
in the expedition under General Bradstreet, when it passed up the valley
of the Mohawk, and was present at the capture of Fort Frontenac. His
sons, James and George, one twenty, the other seventeen years of age,
served in the same campaign, the one as captain, the other as
lieutenant; thus taking an early lesson in that school of American
soldiers, the French war.
James, whose propensities were always military, continued in the
provincial army until the close of that war; and afterwards, when
settled on an estate in Ulster County, was able and active in organizing
its militia. George applied himself to the law, and became successful at
the bar, in the same county. Their father, having laid aside the sword,
occupied for many years, with discernment and integrity, the honorable
station of Judge of the Court of Common Pleas. He died in Ulster County,
in 1773, in the eighty-third year of his age, “in full view of that
revolution in which his sons were to act distinguished parts.” With his
latest breath he charged them “to stand by the liberties of their
country.”
They needed no such admonition. From the very first, they had been heart
and hand in the cause. George had championed it for years in the New
York legislature, signalizing himself by his zeal as one of an intrepid
minority in opposing ministerial oppression. He had but recently taken
his seat as delegate to the Continental Congress.
James Clinton, appointed colonel on the 30th of June, 1775, had served
with his regiment of New York troops under Montgomery at the siege of
St. Johns, and the capture of Montreal, after which he had returned
home. He had subsequently been appointed to the command of a regiment in
one of the four battalions raised for the defence of New York. We shall
soon have occasion to speak further of these patriot brothers.
The prevalence of the smallpox had frequently rendered Washington uneasy
on Mrs. Washington’s account during her visits to the army; he was
relieved, therefore, by her submitting to inoculation during their
sojourn in Philadelphia, and having a very favorable time.
He was gratified, also, by procuring the appointment of his late
secretary, Joseph Reed, to the post of adjutant-general, vacated by the
promotion of General Gates, thus placing him once more by his side.
CHAPTER XXII.
AFFAIRS IN CANADA—DISASTER AT THE CEDARS—HOSTILE DESIGNS OF THE
JOHNSONS—A BLOODY SUMMER EXPECTED—FORTS IN THE HIGHLANDS—COLONEL JAMES
CLINTON IN COMMAND—FORTIFICATIONS AT KING’S BRIDGE AND ON LONG ISLAND.
Despatches from Canada continued to be disastrous. General Arnold, who
was in command at Montreal, had established a post on the St. Lawrence,
about forty miles above that place, on a point of land called the
Cedars; where he had stationed Colonel Bedel, with about four hundred
men, to prevent goods being sent to the enemy, in the upper country, and
to guard against surprise from them, or their Indians.
In the latter part of May, Colonel Bedel received intelligence that a
large body of British, Canadians, and Indians, under the command of
Captain Forster, were coming down from Oswegatchie, to attack him.
Leaving Major Butterfield in command of the post, he hastened down to
Montreal to obtain reinforcements. Arnold immediately detached one
hundred men, under Major Shelburne, and prepared to follow in person,
with a much greater force. In the mean time, the post at the Cedars had
been besieged, and Major Butterfield intimidated into a surrender, by a
threat from Captain Forster, that resistance would provoke a massacre of
his whole garrison by the Indians. The reinforcements under Major
Shelburne were assailed within four miles of the Cedars, by a large
party of savages, and captured after a sharp skirmish, in which several
were killed on both sides.
Arnold received word of these disasters while on the march. He instantly
sent forward some Caughnawaga Indians, to overtake the savages, and
demand a surrender of the prisoners; with a threat that, in case of a
refusal, and that any of them were murdered, he would sacrifice every
Indian who fell into his hands, and would follow the offenders to their
towns, and destroy them by fire and sword. He now embarked four hundred
of his men in bateaux, and pushed on with the remainder by land.
Arriving at St. Ann’s, above the rapids of the St. Lawrence, he
discovered several of the enemy’s bateaux, taking the prisoners off from
an island, a league distant. It was a tormenting sight, as it was not in
his power to relieve them. His bateaux were a league behind, coming up
the rapids very slowly. He sent several expresses to hurry them. It was
sunset before they arrived and he could embark all his people; in the
mean time, his Caughnawaga messengers returned with an answer from the
savages. They had five hundred prisoners collected together, they said,
at Quinze Chiens, where they were posted; should he offer to land and
attack them, they would kill every prisoner, and give no quarter to any
who should fall into their hands thereafter.
“Words cannot express my feelings,” writes Arnold, “at the delivery of
this message. Torn by the conflicting passions of revenge and humanity;
a sufficient force to take ample revenge, raging for action, urged me on
one hand; and humanity for five hundred unhappy wretches, who were on
the point of being sacrificed, if our vengeance was not delayed, pleaded
equally strong on the other.” In this situation, he ordered the boats to
row immediately for the island, whither he had seen the enemy taking
their prisoners. Before he reached it, the savages had conveyed them all
away, excepting five, whom he found naked, and almost starved, and one
or two, whom, being unwell, they had butchered. Arnold now pushed for
Quinze Chiens, about four miles distant, on the mainland. Here was the
whole force of the enemy, civilized and savage, intrenched and
fortified. As Arnold approached, they opened a fire upon his boats, with
small arms, and two brass six-pounders. He rowed near the land, without
returning a shot. By this time it was too dark to distinguish any thing
on shore, and being unacquainted with the ground, he judged it prudent
to return to St. Johns.
Here he called a council of war, and it was determined to attack the
enemy early in the morning. In the course of the night, a flag was sent
by Captain Forster, with articles for an exchange of prisoners, which
had been entered into by him and Major Sherburne. As the terms were not
equal, they were objected to by Arnold, and a day passed before they
were adjusted. A cartel was then signed, by which the prisoners,
consisting of two majors, nine captains, twenty subalterns, and four
hundred and forty-three privates, were to be exchanged for an equal
number of British prisoners of the same rank, and were to be sent to the
south shore of the St. Lawrence, near Caughnawaga, whence to return to
their homes. Nine days were allowed for the delivery of the prisoners,
during which time hostilities should be suspended.
Arnold, in a letter to the commissioners of Congress then at Montreal,
giving an account of this arrangement, expressed his indignation at the
conduct of the king’s officers, in employing savages to screen their
butcheries, and suffering their prisoners to be killed in cold blood. “I
intend being with you this evening,” added he, “to consult on some
effectual measures to take with these savages, and still more savage
British troops, who are still at Quinze Chiens. As soon as our prisoners
are released, I hope it will be in our power to take ample vengeance, or
nobly fall in the attempt.”[70]
The accounts which reached Washington of these affairs were vague and
imperfect, and kept him for some days in painful suspense. The disasters
at the Cedars were attributed entirely to the base and cowardly conduct
of Bedel and Butterworth, and he wrote to Schuyler to have good courts
appointed, and bring them, and every other officer guilty of misconduct,
to trial.
“The situation of our affairs in Canada,” observes he, “is truly
alarming. I sincerely wish the next letters from the northward may not
contain the melancholy advices of General Arnold’s defeat, and the loss
of Montreal. The most vigorous exertions will be necessary to retrieve
our circumstances there, and I hope you will strain every nerve for that
purpose. Unless it can be done now, Canada will be lost to us for ever.”
While his mind was agitated by these concerns, letters from Schuyler
showed that mischief was brewing in another quarter.
Colonel Guy Johnson, accompanied by the Sachem Brant and the Butlers,
had been holding councils with the Indians, and designed, it was said,
to come back to the Mohawk country, at the head of a British and savage
force. A correspondence was carried on between him and his cousin, Sir
John Johnson, who was said to be preparing to co-operate with his Scotch
dependants and Indian allies.
Considering this a breach of Sir John’s parole, Schuyler had sent
Colonel Elias Dayton with a force to apprehend him. Sir John, with a
number of his armed tenants, retreated for refuge among the Indians, on
the borders of the lakes. Dayton took temporary possession of Johnson
Hall, placed guards about it, seized upon Sir John’s papers, and read
them in presence of Lady Johnson, and subsequently conveyed her ladyship
as a kind of hostage to Albany.
Shortly afterwards came further intelligence of the designs of the
Johnsons. Sir John, with his Scotch warriors and Indian allies, was said
to be actually coming down the valley of the Mohawk, bent on revenge,
and prepared to lay every thing waste; and Schuyler collecting a force
at Albany to oppose him. Washington instantly wrote to Schuyler, to
detach Colonel Dayton with his regiment on that service, with
instructions to secure a post where Fort Stanwix formerly stood, in the
time of the French war. As to Schuyler himself, Washington, on his own
responsibility, directed him to hold a conference with the Six Nations,
and with any others whom he and his brother commissioners on Indian
affairs might think necessary, and secure their active services, without
waiting further directions from Congress; that body having recently
resolved to employ Indian allies in the war, the enemy having set the
example.
“We expect a bloody summer in New York and Canada,” writes Washington to
his brother Augustine, “and I am sorry to say that we are not, either in
men or arms, prepared for it. However, it is to be hoped, that, if our
cause is just, as I most religiously believe it, the same Providence
which has in many instances appeared for us, will still go on to afford
its aid.”
Lord Stirling, who, by Washington’s orders, had visited and inspected
the defences in the Highlands, rendered a report of their condition, of
which we give the purport. Fort Montgomery, at the lower part of the
Highlands, was on the west bank of the river, north of Dunderberg (or
Thunder Hill). It was situated on a bank one hundred feet high. The
river at that place was about half a mile wide. Opposite the fort was
the promontory of Anthony’s Nose, many hundred feet high, accessible
only to goats, or men expert in climbing. A body of riflemen stationed
here, might command the decks of vessels. Fort Montgomery appeared to
Lord Stirling the proper place for a guard post.
Fort Constitution was about six miles higher up the river, on a rocky
island of the same name, at a narrow strait where the Hudson, shouldered
by precipices, makes a sudden bend round West Point. A redoubt, in the
opinion of Lord Stirling, would be needed on the point, not only for the
preservation of Fort Constitution, but for its own importance.
The garrison of that fort consisted of two companies of Colonel James
Clinton’s regiment, and Captain Wisner’s company of minute men, in all
one hundred and sixty rank and file. Fort Montgomery was garrisoned by
three companies of the same regiment, about two hundred rank and file.
Both garrisons were miserably armed. The direction of the works of both
forts was in the hands of commissioners appointed by the Provincial
Congress of New York. The general command of the posts required to be
adjusted. Several persons accused of being “notorious tories,” had
recently been sent into Fort Montgomery by the district committees of
the counties of Albany, Dutchess and Westchester, with directions to the
commanding officers, to keep them at hard labor until their further
order. They were employed upon the fortifications.
In view of all these circumstances, Washington, on the 14th of June,
ordered Colonel James Clinton to take command of both posts, and of all
the troops stationed at them. He seemed a fit custodian for them, having
been a soldier from his youth; brought up on a frontier subject to
Indian alarms and incursions, and acquainted with the strong points and
fastnesses of the Highlands.
King’s Bridge, and the heights adjacent, considered by General Lee of
the utmost importance to the communication between New York and the
mainland, and to the security of the Hudson, were reconnoitred by
Washington on horseback, about the middle of the month; ordering where
works should be laid out. Breastworks were to be thrown up for the
defence of the bridge, and an advanced work (subsequently called Fort
Independence) was to be built beyond it, on a hill commanding Spyt den
Duivel Creek, as that inlet of the Hudson is called, which links it with
the Harlaem River.
A strong work, intended as a kind of citadel, was to crown a rocky
height between two and three miles south of the bridge, commanding the
channel of the Hudson; and below it were to be redoubts on the banks of
the river at Jeffrey’s Point. In honor of the general, the citadel
received the name of Fort Washington.
Colonel Rufus Putnam was the principal engineer, who had the direction
of the works. General Mifflin encamped in their vicinity, with part of
the two battalions from Pennsylvania, to be employed in their
construction, aided by the militia.
While these preparations were made for the protection of the Hudson, the
works about Brooklyn on Long Island were carried on with great activity,
under the superintendence of General Greene. In a word, the utmost
exertions were made at every point, to put the city, its environs, and
the Hudson River, in a state of defence, before the arrival of another
hostile armament.
CHAPTER XXIII.
RETREAT OF GENERAL THOMAS—HIS DEATH—GENERAL SULLIVAN IN COMMAND—SCENE ON
THE SOREL—SANGUINE EXPECTATIONS OF SULLIVAN—WASHINGTON’S OPINION OF
SULLIVAN’S CHARACTER—GATES APPOINTED TO THE COMMAND IN
CANADA—REINFORCEMENTS OF THE ENEMY—REVERSES—THOMPSON CAPTURED—RETREAT OF
SULLIVAN—CLOSE OF THE INVASION OF CANADA.
Operations in Canada were drawing to a disastrous close. General Thomas,
finding it impossible to make a stand at Point Deschambault, had
continued his retreat to the mouth of the Sorel, where he found General
Thompson with part of the troops detached by Washington, from New York,
who were making some preparations for defence. Shortly after his
arrival, he was taken ill with the smallpox, and removed to Chamblee. He
had prohibited inoculation among his troops, because it put too many of
their scanty number on the sick list; he probably fell a victim to his
own prohibition, as he died of that malady on the 2d of June.
On his death, General Sullivan, who had recently arrived with the main
detachment of troops from New York, succeeded to the command; General
Wooster having been recalled. He advanced immediately with his brigade
to the mouth of the Sorel, where he found General Thompson with but very
few troops to defend that post, having detached Colonel St. Clair, with
six or seven hundred men, to Three Rivers, about fifty miles down the
St. Lawrence, to give check to an advanced corps of the enemy of about
eight hundred regulars and Canadians, under the veteran Scot, Colonel
Maclean. In the mean time General Thompson, who was left with but two
hundred men to defend his post, was sending off his sick and his heavy
baggage, to be prepared for a retreat, if necessary. “It really was
affecting,” writes Sullivan to Washington, “to see the banks of the
Sorel lined with men, women and children, leaping and clapping their
hands for joy, to see me arrive; it gave no less joy to General
Thompson, who seemed to be wholly forsaken, and left to fight against an
unequal force or retreat before them.”
Sullivan proceeded forthwith to complete the works on the Sorel; in the
mean time he detached General Thompson with additional troops to
overtake St. Clair, and assume command of the whole party, which would
then amount to two thousand men. He was by no means to attack the
encampment at Three Rivers, unless there was great prospect of success,
as his defeat might prove the total loss of Canada. “I have the highest
opinion of the bravery and resolution of the troops you command,” says
Sullivan in his instructions, “and doubt not but, under the direction of
a kind Providence, you will open the way for our recovering that ground
which former troops have so shamefully lost.”
Sullivan’s letter to Washington, written at the same time, is full of
sanguine anticipation. It was his fixed determination to gain post at
Deschambault, and fortify it so as to make it inaccessible. “The enemy’s
ships are now above that place,” writes he; “but if General Thompson
succeeds at Three Rivers, I will soon remove the ships below Richelieu
Falls, and after that, approach Quebec as fast as possible.”
“Our affairs here,” adds he, “have taken a strange turn since our
arrival. The Canadians are flocking by hundreds to take a part with us.
The only reason of their disaffection was, because our exertions were so
feeble that they doubted much of our success, and even of our ability to
protect them.
“I venture to assure you, and the Congress, that I can in a few days
reduce the army to order, and with the assistance of a kind Providence,
put a new face to our affairs here, which a few days since seemed almost
impossible.”
The letter of Sullivan gave Washington an unexpected gleam of sunshine.
“Before it came to hand,” writes he in reply, “I almost dreaded to hear
from Canada, as my advices seemed to promise nothing favorable, but
rather further misfortunes. But I now hope that our affairs, from the
confused, distracted, and almost forlorn state in which you found them,
will change, and assume an aspect of order and success.” Still his
sagacious mind perceived a motive for this favorable coloring of
affairs. Sullivan was aiming at the command in Canada; and Washington
soberly weighed his merits for the appointment, in a letter to the
President of Congress. “He is active, spirited, and zealously attached
to the cause. He has his wants, and he has his foibles. The latter are
manifested in his little tincture of vanity, and in an over-desire of
being popular, which now and then lead him into embarrassments. His
wants are common to us all. He wants experience to move upon a grand
scale; for the limited and contracted knowledge, which any of us have in
military matters, stands in very little stead.” This want was
overbalanced, on the part of General Sullivan, by sound judgment, some
acquaintance with men and books, and an enterprising genius.
“As the security of Canada is of the last importance to the well-being
of these colonies,” adds Washington, “I should like to know the
sentiments of Congress, respecting the nomination of any officer to that
command. The character I have drawn of General Sullivan is just,
according to my ideas of him. Congress will therefore determine upon the
propriety of continuing him in Canada, or sending another, as they shall
see fit.”[71]
Scarce had Washington despatched this letter, when he received one from
the President of Congress, dated the 18th of June, informing him that
Major-general Gates had been appointed to command the forces in Canada,
and requesting him to expedite his departure as soon as possible. The
appointment of Gates has been attributed to the influence of the Eastern
delegates, with whom he was a favorite; indeed, during his station at
Boston, he had been highly successful in cultivating the good graces of
the New England people. He departed for his command on the 26th of June,
vested with extraordinary powers for the regulation of affairs in that
“distant, dangerous, and shifting scene.” “I would fain hope,” writes
Washington, “his arrival there will give our affairs a complexion
different from what they have worn for a long time past, and that many
essential benefits will result from it.”
Despatches just received from General Sullivan, had given a different
picture of affairs in Canada from that contained in his previous letter.
In fact, when he wrote that letter, he was ignorant of the actual force
of the enemy in Canada, which had recently been augmented to about
13,000 men; several regiments having arrived from Ireland, one from
England, another from General Howe, and a body of Brunswick troops under
the Baron Reidesel. Of these, the greater part were on the way up from
Quebec in divisions, by land and water, with Generals Carleton,
Burgoyne, Philips and Reidesel; while a considerable number under
General Frazer had arrived at Three Rivers, and others, under General
Nesbit, lay near them on board of transports.
Sullivan’s despatch, dated on the 8th of June, at the mouth of the
Sorel, began in his former sanguine vein, anticipating the success of
General Thompson’s expedition to Three Rivers. “He has proceeded in the
manner proposed, and made his attack at daylight, for at that time a
very heavy cannonading began, which lasted with some intervals to twelve
o’clock. It is now near one P. M.; the firing has ceased, except some
irregular firing with cannon, at a considerable distance of time one
from the other. At eight o’clock a very heavy firing of small arms was
heard even here, at the distance of forty-five miles. I am almost
certain that victory has declared in our favor, as the irregular firing
of the cannon for such a length of time after the small arms ceased,
shows that our men are in possession of the ground.”
The letter was kept open to give the particulars of this supposed
victory; it closed with a dismal reverse. General Thompson had coasted
in bateaux along the right bank of the river at that expanse called Lake
St. Pierre, and arrived at Nicolete, where he found St. Clair and his
detachment. He crossed the river in the night, and landed a few miles
above Three Rivers, intending to surprise the enemy before daylight; he
was not aware at the time that additional troops had arrived under
General Burgoyne.
After landing, he marched with rapidity toward Three Rivers, but was led
by treacherous guides into a morass, and obliged to return back nearly
two miles. Day broke, and he was discovered from the ships. A cannonade
was opened upon his men as they made their way slowly for an hour and a
half through a swamp. At length they arrived in sight of Three Rivers,
but it was to find a large force drawn up in battle array, under General
Frazer, by whom they were warmly attacked, and after a brief stand
thrown in confusion. Thompson attempted to rally his troops, and partly
succeeded, until a fire was opened upon them in rear by Nesbit, who had
landed from his ships. Their rout now was complete. General Thompson,
Colonel Irvine, and about two hundred men were captured, twenty-five
were slain, and the rest pursued for several miles through a deep swamp.
After great fatigues and sufferings, they were able to get on board of
their boats, which had been kept from falling into the hands of the
enemy. In these they made their way back to the Sorel, bringing General
Sullivan a sad explanation of all the firing he had heard, and the
alarming intelligence of the overpowering force that was coming up the
river.
“This, my dear general,” writes Sullivan, in the conclusion of his
letter, “is the state of this unfortunate enterprise. What you will next
hear I cannot say. I am every moment informed of the vast number of the
enemy which have arrived. I have only two thousand five hundred and
thirty-three rank and file. Most of the officers seem discouraged, and,
of course, their men. I am employed day and night in fortifying and
securing my camp, and am determined to hold it as long as a person will
stick by me.”
He had, indeed, made the desperate resolve to defend the mouth of the
Sorel, but was induced to abandon it by the unanimous opinion of his
officers, and the evident unwillingness of his troops. Dismantling his
batteries, therefore, he retreated with his artillery and stores, just
before the arrival of the enemy, and was followed, step by step along
the Sorel, by a strong column under General Burgoyne.
On the 18th of June, he was joined by General Arnold with three hundred
men, the garrison of Montreal, who had crossed at Longueil just in time
to escape a large detachment of the enemy. Thus reinforced, and the
evacuation of Canada being determined on in a council of war, Sullivan
succeeded in destroying every thing at Chamblee and St. Johns that he
could not carry away, breaking down bridges, and leaving forts and
vessels in flames, and continued his retreat to the Isle aux Noix, where
he made a halt for some days, until he should receive positive orders
from Washington or General Schuyler. In a letter to Washington, he
observes, “I am extremely sorry it was not in my power to fulfil your
Excellency’s wishes, by leading on our troops to victory.” After stating
the reason of his failure, he adds, “I think we shall secure all the
public stores and baggage of the army, and secure our retreat with very
little loss. Whether we shall have well men enough to carry them on, I
much doubt, if we don’t remove quickly; unless Heaven is pleased to
restore health to this wretched army, now, perhaps, the most pitiful one
that ever was formed.”
The low, unhealthy situation of the Isle aux Noix, obliged him soon to
remove his camp to the Isle la Motte, whence, on receiving orders to
that effect from General Schuyler, he ultimately embarked with his
forces, sick and well, for Crown Point.
Thus ended this famous invasion; an enterprise bold in its conceptions,
daring and hardy in its execution; full of ingenious expedients, and
hazardous exploits; and which, had not unforeseen circumstances
counteracted its well-devised plans, might have added all Canada to the
American confederacy.
CHAPTER XXIV.
DESIGNS OF THE ENEMY AGAINST NEW YORK AND THE HUDSON—PLOT OF TRYON AND
THE TORIES—ARRIVAL OF A FLEET—ALARM POSTS—TREACHERY UP THE HUDSON—FRESH
ARRIVALS—GENERAL HOWE AT STATEN ISLAND—WASHINGTON’S PREPARATIONS.
The great aim of the British, at present, was to get possession of New
York and the Hudson, and make them the basis of military operations.
This they hoped to effect on the arrival of a powerful armament, hourly
expected, and designed for operations on the seaboard.
At this critical juncture there was an alarm of a conspiracy among the
tories in the city and on Long Island, suddenly to take up arms and
co-operate with the British troops on their arrival. The wildest reports
were in circulation concerning it. Some of the tories were to break down
King’s Bridge, others were to blow up the magazines, spike the guns, and
massacre all the field-officers. Washington was to be killed or
delivered up to the enemy. Some of his own body-guard were said to be in
the plot.
Several publicans of the city were pointed out, as having aided or
abetted the plot. One was landlord of the Highlander, at the corner of
Beaver Street and Broadway. Another dispensed liquor under the sign of
Robin Hood. Another named Lowry, described as a “fat man in a blue
coat,” kept tavern in a low house opposite the Oswego market. Another,
James Houlding, kept a beer house in Tryon Row, opposite the gates of
the upper barracks. It would seem as if a network of corruption and
treachery had been woven throughout the city by means of these liquor
dealers. One of the most noted, however, was Corbie, whose tavern was
said to be “to the south-east of General Washington’s house, to the
westward of Bayard’s Woods, and north of Lispenard’s Meadows,” from
which it would appear that, at that time, the general was quartered at
what was formerly called Richmond Hill; a mansion surrounded by trees,
at a short distance from the city, in rather an isolated situation.
A committee of the New York Congress, of which John Jay was chairman,
traced the plot up to Governor Tryon, who, from his safe retreat on
shipboard, acted through agents on shore. The most important of these
was David Matthews, the tory mayor of the city. He was accused of
disbursing money to enlist men, purchase arms, and corrupt the soldiery.
Washington was authorized and requested by the committee, to cause the
mayor to be apprehended, and all his papers secured. Matthews was at
that time residing at Flatbush on Long Island, at no great distance from
General Greene’s encampment. Washington transmitted the warrant of the
committee to the general on the 21st, with directions that it should “be
executed with precision, and exactly by one o’clock of the ensuing
morning, by a careful officer.”
Precisely at the hour of one, a detachment from Greene’s brigade
surrounded the house of the mayor, and secured his person; but no papers
were found, though diligent search was made.
Numerous other arrests took place, and among the number, some of
Washington’s body-guard. A great dismay fell upon the tories. Some of
those on Long Island who had proceeded to arm themselves, finding the
plot discovered, sought refuge in woods and morasses. Washington
directed that those arrested, who belonged to the army, should be tried
by a court-martial, and the rest handed over to the secular power.
According to statements made before the committee, five guineas bounty
was offered by Governor Tryon to each man who should enter the king’s
service; with a promise of two hundred acres of land for himself, one
hundred for his wife, and fifty for each child. The men thus recruited
were to act on shore, in co-operation with the king’s troops when they
came.
Corbie’s tavern, near Washington’s quarters, was a kind of rendezvous of
the conspirators. There one Gilbert Forbes, a gunsmith, “a short, thick
man, with a white coat,” enlisted men, gave them money, and “swore them
on the book to secrecy.” From this house a correspondence was kept up
with Governor Tryon on shipboard, through a “mulatto-colored negro,
dressed in blue clothes.” At this tavern it was supposed Washington’s
body-guards were tampered with. Thomas Hickey, one of the guards, a
dark-complexioned man, five feet six inches high, and well set, was said
not only to be enlisted, but to have aided in corrupting his comrades;
among others, Greene the drummer, and Johnson the fifer.
It was further testified before the committee, that one Sergeant Graham,
an old soldier, formerly of the royal artillery, had been employed by
Governor Tryon to prowl round and survey the grounds and works about the
city, and on Long Island, and that, on information thus procured, a plan
of operations had been concerted. On the arrival of the fleet, a
man-of-war should cannonade the battery at Red Hook; while that was
doing, a detachment of the army should land below with cannon, and by a
circuitous march surprise and storm the works on Long Island. The
shipping then, with the remainder of the army, were to divide, one part
to run up the Hudson, the other up the East River; troops were to land
above New York, secure the pass at King’s Bridge, and cut off all
communication between the city and country.[72]
Much of the evidence given was of a dubious kind. It was certain that
persons had secretly been enlisted, and sworn to hostile operations, but
Washington did not think that any regular plan had been digested by the
conspirators. “The matter,” writes he, “I am in hopes, by a timely
discovery, will be suppressed.”[73]
According to the mayor’s own admission before the committee, he had been
cognizant of attempts to enlist tories and corrupt Washington’s guards,
though he declared that he had discountenanced them. He had on one
occasion, also, at the request of Governor Tryon, paid money for him to
Gilbert Forbes, the gunsmith, for rifles and round-bored guns which he
had already furnished, and for others which he was to make. He had done
so, however (according to his account), with great reluctance, and after
much hesitation and delay, warning the gunsmith that he would be hanged
if found out. The mayor, with a number of others, were detained in
prison to await a trial.
Thomas Hickey, the individual of Washington’s guard, was tried before a
court-martial. He was an Irishman, and had been a deserter from the
British army. The court-martial found him guilty of mutiny and sedition,
and treacherous correspondence with the enemy, and sentenced him to be
hanged.
The sentence was approved by Washington, and was carried promptly into
effect, in the most solemn and impressive manner, to serve as a warning
and example in this time of treachery and danger. On the morning of the
28th, all the officers and men off duty, belonging to the brigades of
Heath, Spencer, Stirling and Scott, assembled under arms at their
respective parades at 10 o’clock, and marched thence to the ground.
Twenty men from each brigade, with bayonets fixed, guarded the prisoner
to the place of execution, which was a field near the Bowery Lane. There
he was hanged in the presence, we are told, of near twenty thousand
persons.
While the city was still brooding over this doleful spectacle, four
ships of war, portentous visitants, appeared off the Hook, stood quietly
in at the Narrows, and dropped anchor in the bay.
In his orderly book, Washington expressed a hope that the unhappy fate
of Thomas Hickey, executed that day for mutiny, sedition, and treachery,
would be a warning to every soldier in the line, to avoid the crimes for
which he suffered.[74]
On the 29th of June, an express from the look-out on Staten Island,
announced that forty sail were in sight. They were, in fact, ships from
Halifax, bringing between nine and ten thousand of the troops recently
expelled from Boston; together with six transports filled with Highland
troops, which had joined the fleet at sea. At sight of this formidable
armament standing into the harbor, Washington instantly sent notice of
its arrival to Colonel James Clinton, who had command of the posts in
the Highlands, and urged all possible preparations to give the enemy a
warm reception should they push their frigates up the river.
According to general orders issued from head-quarters on the following
day (June 30), the officers and men, not on duty, were to march from
their respective regimental parades to their alarm posts, at least once
every day, that they might become well acquainted with them. They were
to go by routes least exposed to a fire from the shipping, and all the
officers, from the highest to the lowest, were to make themselves well
acquainted with the grounds. Upon a signal of the enemy’s approach, or
upon any alarm, all fatigue parties were immediately to repair to their
respective corps with their arms, ammunition and accoutrements, ready
for instant action.
It was ascertained that the ramifications of the conspiracy lately
detected, extended up the Hudson. Many of the disaffected in the upper
counties were enlisted in it. The committee of safety at Cornwall, in
Orange County, sent word to Colonel James Clinton, Fort Constitution, of
the mischief that was brewing. James Haff, a tory, had confessed before
them, that he was one of a number who were to join the British troops as
soon as they should arrive. It was expected the latter would push up the
river and land at Verplanck’s Point; whereupon the guns at the forts in
the Highlands were to be spiked by soldiers of their own garrisons; and
the tories throughout the country were to be up in arms.[75]
Clinton received letters, also, from a meeting of committees in the
precincts of Newburgh, apprising him that persons dangerous to the cause
were lurking in that neighborhood, and requesting him to detach
twenty-five men under a certain lieutenant acquainted with the woods,
“to aid in getting some of these rascals apprehended and secured.”
While city and country were thus agitated by apprehensions of danger,
internal and external, other arrivals swelled the number of ships in the
bay of New York to one hundred and thirty, men-of-war and transports.
They made no movement to ascend the Hudson, but anchored off Staten
Island, where they landed their troops, and the hill sides were soon
whitened with their tents.
In the frigate Greyhound, one of the four ships which first arrived,
came General Howe. He had preceded the fleet, in order to confer with
Governor Tryon, and inform himself of the state of affairs. In a letter
to his government he writes: “I met with Governor Tryon on board of a
ship at the Hook, and many gentlemen, fast friends of government,
attending him, from whom I have the fullest information of the state of
the rebels. * * * * * We passed the Narrows with three ships of war, and
the first division of transports, landed the grenadiers and light
infantry, as the ships came up, on this island, to the great joy of a
most loyal people, long suffering on that account under the oppression
of the rebels stationed among them; who precipitately fled on the
approach of the shipping. * * * * * There is great reason to expect a
numerous body of the inhabitants to join the army from the province of
York, the Jerseys and Connecticut, who, in this time of universal
oppression, only wait for opportunities to give proofs of their loyalty
and zeal.”[76]
Washington beheld the gathering storm with an anxious eye, aware that
General Howe only awaited the arrival of his brother, the admiral, to
commence hostile operations. He wrote to the President of Congress,
urging a call on the Massachusetts government for its quota of
continental troops; and the formation of a flying camp of ten thousand
men, to be stationed in the Jerseys as a central force, ready to act in
any direction as circumstances might require.
On the 2d of July, he issued a general order, calling upon the troops to
prepare for a momentous conflict which was to decide their liberties and
fortunes. Those who should signalize themselves by acts of bravery,
would be noticed and rewarded; those who proved craven would be exposed
and punished. No favor would be shown to such as refused or neglected to
do their duty at so important a crisis.
CHAPTER XXV.
FIRST APPEARANCE OF ALEXANDER HAMILTON—HIS EARLY DAYS—GENERAL HUGH
MERCER IN COMMAND OF THE FLYING CAMP—DECLARATION OF
INDEPENDENCE—ANNOUNCED TO THE ARMY—DOWNFALL OF THE KING’S STATUE.
About this time, we have the first appearance in the military ranks of
the Revolution, of one destined to take an active and distinguished part
in public affairs; and to leave the impress of his genius on the
institutions of the country.
As General Greene one day, on his way to Washington’s head-quarters, was
passing through a field,—then on the outskirts of the city, now in the
heart of its busiest quarter, and known as “the Park,”—he paused to
notice a provincial company of artillery, and was struck with its able
performances, and with the tact and talent of its commander. He was a
mere youth, apparently about twenty years of age; small in person and
stature, but remarkable for his alert and manly bearing. It was
Alexander Hamilton.
Greene was an able tactician, and quick to appreciate any display of
military science; a little conversation sufficed to convince him that
the youth before him had a mind of no ordinary grasp and quickness. He
invited him to his quarters, and from that time, cultivated his
friendship.
Hamilton was a native of the island of Nevis, in the West Indies, and at
a very early age had been put in a counting-house at Santa Cruz. His
nature, however, was aspiring. “I contemn the grovelling condition of a
clerk to which my fortune condemns me,” writes he to a youthful friend,
“and would willingly risk my life, though not my character, to exalt my
station. * * * I mean to prepare the way for futurity. I am no
philosopher, and may be justly said to build castles in the air; yet we
have seen such schemes succeed, when the projector is constant. I shall
conclude by saying, I wish there was a war.”
Still he applied himself with zeal and fidelity to the duties of his
station, and such were the precocity of his judgment, and his aptness at
accounts, that, before he was fourteen years of age, he was left for a
brief interval, during the absence of the principal, at the head of the
establishment. While his situation in the house gave him a practical
knowledge of business, and experience in finance, his leisure hours were
devoted to self-cultivation. He made himself acquainted with mathematics
and chemistry, and indulged a strong propensity to literature. Some
early achievements of his pen attracted attention, and showed such proof
of talent, that it was determined to give him the advantage of a regular
education. He was accordingly sent to Elizabethtown, in the Jerseys, in
the autumn of 1772, to prepare, by a course of studies, for admission
into King’s (now Columbia) College, at New York. He entered the college
as a private student, in the latter part of 1773, and endeavored, by
diligent application, to fit himself for the medical profession.
The contentions of the colonies with the mother country gave a different
direction and impulse to his ardent and aspiring mind. He soon
signalized himself by the exercise of his pen, sometimes in a grave,
sometimes in a satirical manner. On the 6th of July, 1774, there was a
general meeting of the citizens in the “Fields,” to express their
abhorrence of the Boston Port Bill. Hamilton was present, and, prompted
by his excited feelings and the instigation of youthful companions,
ventured to address the multitude. The vigor and maturity of his
intellect, contrasted with his youthful appearance, won the admiration
of his auditors; even his diminutive size gave additional effect to his
eloquence.
The war, for which in his boyish days he had sighed, was approaching. He
now devoted himself to military studies, especially pyrotechnics and
gunnery, and formed an amateur corps out of a number of his fellow
students, and the young gentlemen of the city. In the month of March,
1776, he became captain of artillery, in a provincial corps, newly
raised, and soon, by able drilling, rendered it conspicuous for
discipline.
It was while exercising his artillery company that he attracted, as we
have mentioned, the attention of General Greene. Further acquaintance
heightened the general’s opinion of his extraordinary merits, and he
took an early occasion to introduce him to the commander-in-chief, by
whom we shall soon find him properly appreciated.
A valuable accession to the army, at this anxious time, was Washington’s
neighbor, and former companion in arms, Hugh Mercer, the veteran of
Culloden and Fort Duquesne. His military spirit was alert as ever; the
talent he had shown in organizing the Virginia militia, and his zeal and
efficiency as a member of the committee of safety, had been properly
appreciated by Congress, and on the 5th of June he had received the
commission of brigadier-general. He was greeted by Washington with the
right hand of fellowship. The flying camp was about forming. The
committee of safety of Pennsylvania were forwarding some of the militia
of that province to the Jerseys, to perform the service of the camp
until the militia levies, specified by Congress, should arrive.
Washington had the nomination of some continental officer to the
command. He gave it to Mercer, of whose merits he felt sure, and sent
him over to Paulus Hook, in the Jerseys, to make arrangements for the
Pennsylvania militia as they should come in; recommending him to
Brigadier-general William Livingston, as an officer on whose experience
and judgment great confidence might be reposed.
Livingston was a man inexperienced in arms, but of education, talent,
sagacity and ready wit. He was of the New York family of the same name,
but had resided for some time in the Jerseys, having a spacious mansion
in Elizabethtown, which he had named Liberty Hall. Mercer and he were to
consult together, and concert plans to repel invasions; the New Jersey
militia, however, were distinct from the flying camp, and only called
out for local defence. New Jersey’s greatest danger of invasion was from
Staten Island, where the British were throwing up works, and whence they
might attempt to cross to Amboy. The flying camp was therefore to be
stationed in the neighborhood of that place.
“The known disaffection of the people of Amboy,” writes Washington, “and
the treachery of those on Staten Island, who, after the fairest
professions, have shown themselves our most inveterate enemies, have
induced me to give directions that all persons of known enmity and
doubtful character, should be removed from those places.”
According to General Livingston’s humorous account, his own village of
Elizabethtown was not much more reliable, being peopled in those
agitated times by “unknown, unrecommended strangers, guilty-looking
tories, and very knavish whigs.”
While danger was gathering round New York, and its inhabitants were in
mute suspense and fearful anticipations, the General Congress at
Philadelphia was discussing, with closed doors, what John Adams
pronounced—“The greatest question ever debated in America, and as great
as ever was or will be debated among men.” The result was, a resolution
passed unanimously, on the 2d of July, “that these United Colonies are,
and of right ought to be, free and independent States.”
“The 2d of July,” adds the same patriotic statesman, “will be the most
memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it
will be celebrated by succeeding generations, as the great anniversary
festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by
solemn acts of devotion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized with
pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and
illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this
time forth for evermore.”
The glorious event has, indeed, given rise to an annual jubilee, but not
on the day designated by Adams. The fourth of July is the day of
national rejoicing, for on that day, the “Declaration of Independence,”
that solemn and sublime document, was adopted. Tradition gives a
dramatic effect to its announcement. It was known to be under
discussion, but the closed doors of Congress excluded the populace. They
awaited, in throngs, an appointed signal. In the steeple of the
state-house was a bell, imported twenty-three years previously from
London by the Provincial Assembly of Pennsylvania. It bore the
portentous text from scripture: “Proclaim liberty throughout all the
land, unto all the inhabitants thereof.” A joyous peal from that bell
gave notice that the bill had been passed. It was the knell of British
domination.
No one felt the importance of the event more deeply than John Adams, for
no one had been more active in producing it. We quote his words written
at the moment. “When I look back to the year 1761, and recollect the
argument concerning writs of assistance in the superior court, which I
have hitherto considered as the commencement of the controversy between
Great Britain and America, and run through the whole period from that
time to this, and recollect the series of political events, the chain of
causes and effects; I am surprised at the suddenness, as well as the
greatness of this Revolution; Great Britain has been filled with folly,
America with wisdom.”
His only regret was, that the declaration of independence had not been
made sooner. “Had it been made seven months ago,” said he, “we should
have mastered Quebec, and been in possession of Canada, and might before
this hour have formed alliances with foreign states. Many gentlemen in
high stations, and of great influence, have been duped by the
ministerial bubble of commissioners to treat, and have been slow and
languid in promoting measures for the reduction of that province.”
Washington hailed the declaration with joy. It is true, it was but a
formal recognition of a state of things which had long existed, but it
put an end to all those temporizing hopes of reconciliation which had
clogged the military action of the country.
On the 9th of July, he caused it to be read at six o’clock in the
evening, at the head of each brigade of the army. “The general hopes,”
said he in his orders, “that this important event will serve as a fresh
incentive to every officer and soldier, to act with fidelity and
courage, as knowing that now the peace and safety of his country depend,
under God, solely on the success of our arms; and that he is now in the
service of a state, possessed of sufficient power to reward his merit,
and advance him to the highest honors of a free country.”
The excitable populace of New York were not content with the ringing of
bells to proclaim their joy. There was a leaden statue of George III. in
the Bowling Green, in front of the fort. Since kingly rule is at an end,
why retain its effigy? On the same evening, therefore, the statue was
pulled down amid the shouts of the multitude, and broken up to be run
into bullets “to be used in the cause of independence.”
Some of the soldiery having been implicated in this popular
effervescence, Washington censured it in general orders, as having much
the appearance of a riot and a want of discipline, and the army was
forbidden to indulge in any irregularities of the kind. It was his
constant effort to inspire his countrymen in arms with his own elevated
idea of the cause in which they were engaged, and to make them feel that
it was no ordinary warfare, admitting of vulgar passions and
perturbations. “The general hopes and trusts,” said he, “that every
officer and man will endeavor so to live and act as becomes a Christian
soldier, defending the dearest rights and liberties of his country.”[77]
CHAPTER XXVI.
ARRIVAL OF MORE SHIPS—MOVEMENTS OF THE PHŒNIX AND THE ROSE—PANIC IN THE
CITY—HOSTILE SHIPS UP THE HUDSON—STIR OF WAR ALONG THE RIVER—GENERAL
GEORGE CLINTON, AND THE MILITIA OF ULSTER COUNTY—FRESH AGITATION OF NEW
YORK—ARRIVAL OF LORD HOWE.
The exultation of the patriots of New York, caused by the Declaration of
Independence, was soon overclouded. On the 12th of July, several ships
stood in from sea, and joined the naval force below. Every nautical
movement was now a matter of speculation and alarm, and all the
spy-glasses in the city were incessantly reconnoitering the bay.
“The enemy are now in the harbor,” writes an American officer, “although
they have not yet ventured themselves within gunshot of the city, but we
hourly expect to be called into action. The whole army is out between
two and three every morning, at their respective alarm posts, and remain
there until sunrise. I am morally certain that it will not be long
before we have an engagement.”
Scarce had this letter been penned, when two ships of war were observed
getting under way, and standing toward the city. One was the Phœnix, of
forty guns; the other the Rose, of twenty guns, commanded by Captain
Wallace, of unenviable renown, who had marauded the New England coast,
and domineered over Rhode Island. The troops were immediately at their
alarm posts. It was about half past three o’clock in the afternoon, as
the ships and three tenders came sweeping up the bay with the advantage
of wind and tide, and shaped their course up the Hudson. The batteries
of the city and of Paulus Hook on the opposite Jersey shore, opened a
fire upon them. They answered it with broadsides. There was a panic
throughout the city. Women and children ran hither and thither about the
streets, mingling their shrieks and cries with the thundering of the
cannon. “The attack has begun! The city is to be destroyed! What will
become of us?”
The Phœnix and the Rose continued their course up the Hudson. They had
merely fired upon the batteries as they passed; and on their own part
had sustained but little damage, their decks having ramparts of
sand-bags. The ships below remained in sullen quiet at their anchors,
and showed no intention of following them. The firing ceased. The fear
of a general attack upon the city died away, and the agitated citizens
breathed more freely.
Washington, however, apprehended this movement of the ships might be
with a different object. They might be sent to land troops and seize
upon the passes of the Highlands. Forts Montgomery and Constitution were
far from complete, and were scantily manned. A small force might be
sufficient to surprise them. The ships might intend, also, to distribute
arms among the tories in the river counties, and prepare them to
co-operate in the apprehended attack upon New York.
Thus thinking, the moment Washington saw these ships standing up the
river, he sent off an express to put General Mifflin on the alert, who
was stationed with his Philadelphia troops at Fort Washington and King’s
Bridge. The same express carried a letter from him to the New York
Convention, at that time holding its sessions at White Plains in
Westchester County, apprising it of the impending danger. His immediate
solicitude was for the safety of Forts Constitution and Montgomery.
Fortunately George Clinton, the patriotic legislator, had recently been
appointed brigadier-general of the militia of Ulster and Orange
counties. Called to his native State by his military duties in this time
of danger, he had only remained in Congress to vote for the declaration
of independence, and then hastened home. He was now at New Windsor, in
Ulster County, just above the Highlands. Washington wrote to him on the
afternoon of the 12th, urging him to collect as great a force as
possible of the New York militia, for the protection of the Highlands
against this hostile irruption, and to solicit aid, if requisite, from
the western parts of Connecticut. “I have the strongest reason to
believe,” added he, “it will be absolutely necessary, if it were only to
prevent an insurrection of your own tories.”
Long before the receipt of Washington’s letter, Clinton had been put on
the alert. About nine o’clock in the morning of the 13th, an alarm gun
from his brother at Fort Constitution, thundered through the echoing
defiles of the mountains. Shortly afterwards, two river sloops came to
anchor above the Highlands before the general’s residence. Their
captains informed him that New York had been attacked on the preceding
afternoon. They had seen the cannonade from a distance, and judged from
the subsequent firing, that the enemy’s ships were up the river as far
as King’s Bridge.
Clinton was as prompt a soldier as he had been an intrepid legislator.
The neighboring militia were forthwith put in motion. Three regiments
were ordered out; one was to repair to Fort Montgomery; another to Fort
Constitution; the third to rendezvous at Newburgh, just above the
Highlands, ready to hasten to the assistance of Fort Constitution,
should another signal be given. All the other regiments under his
command were to be prepared for service at a moment’s notice. In
ordering these hasty levies, however, he was as considerate as he was
energetic. The colonels were directed to leave the frontier companies at
home, to protect the country against the Indians, and some men out of
each company to guard against internal enemies.
Another of his sagacious measures was to send expresses to all the
owners of sloops and boats twenty miles up the west side of the river,
to haul them off so as to prevent their grounding. Part of them were to
be ready to carry over the militia to the forts; the rest were ordered
down to Fort Constitution, where a chain of them might be drawn across
the narrowest part of the river, to be set on fire, should the enemy’s
ships attempt to pass.
Having made these prompt arrangements, he proceeded early in the
afternoon of the same day, with about forty of his neighbors, to Fort
Constitution; whence, leaving some with his brother, he pushed down on
the same evening to Fort Montgomery, where he fixed his head-quarters,
as being nearer the enemy and better situated to discover their motions.
Here, on the following day (July 14th), he received Washington’s letter,
written two days previously; but by this time he had anticipated its
orders, and stirred up the whole country. On that same evening, two or
three hundred of the hardy Ulster yeomanry, roughly equipped, part of
one of the regiments he had ordered out, marched into Fort Montgomery,
headed by their colonel (Woodhull). Early the next morning five hundred
of another regiment arrived, and he was told that parts of two other
regiments were on the way.
“The men,” writes he to Washington, “turn out of their harvest fields to
defend their country with surprising alacrity. The absence of so many of
them, however, at this time, when their harvests are perishing for want
of the sickle, will greatly distress the country. I could wish,
therefore, that a less number might answer the purpose.”
On no one could this prompt and brave gathering of the yeomanry produce
a more gratifying effect, than upon the commander-in-chief; and no one
could be more feelingly alive, in the midst of stern military duties, to
the appeal in behalf of the peaceful interests of the husbandman.
While the vigilant Clinton was preparing to defend the passes of the
Highlands, danger was growing more imminent at the mouth of the Hudson.
New York has always been a city prone to agitations. That into which it
was thrown on the afternoon of the 12th of July, by the broadsides of
the Phœnix and the Rose, was almost immediately followed by another. On
the same evening there was a great booming of cannon, with clouds of
smoke, from the shipping at anchor at Staten Island. Every spy-glass was
again in requisition. The British fleet were saluting a ship of the
line, just arrived from sea. She advanced grandly, every manof-war
thundering a salute as she passed. At her foretop masthead she bore St.
George’s flag. “It is the admiral’s ship!” cried the nautical men on the
look-out at the Battery. “It is the admiral’s ship!” was echoed from
mouth to mouth, and the word soon flew throughout the city, “Lord Howe
is come!”
CHAPTER XXVII.
PRECAUTIONS AGAINST TORIES—SECRET COMMITTEES—DECLARATION OF LORD
HOWE—HIS LETTER TO THE COLONIAL GOVERNORS—HIS LETTER TO WASHINGTON
REJECTED—INTERVIEW BETWEEN THE BRITISH ADJUTANT-GENERAL AND COLONEL
REED—RECEPTION OF THE ADJUTANT-GENERAL BY WASHINGTON—THE PHŒNIX AND ROSE
IN THE TAPPAN SEA AND HAVERSTRAW BAY—ARMING OF THE RIVER YEOMANRY—GEORGE
CLINTON AT THE GATES OF THE HIGHLANDS.
Lord Howe was indeed come, and affairs now appeared to be approaching a
crisis. In consequence of the recent conspiracy, the Convention of New
York, seated at White Plains in Westchester County, had a secret
committee stationed in New York for the purpose of taking cognizance of
traitorous machinations. To this committee Washington addressed a letter
the day after his lordship’s arrival, suggesting the policy of removing
from the city and its environs, “all persons of known disaffection and
enmity to the cause of America;” especially those confined in jail for
treasonable offences; who might become extremely dangerous in case of an
attack and alarm. He took this step with great reluctance; but felt
compelled to it by circumstances. The late conspiracy had shown him that
treason might be lurking in his camp. And he was well aware that the
city and the neighboring country, especially Westchester County, and
Queens and Suffolk counties on Long Island, abounded with “tories,”
ready to rally under the royal standard whenever backed by a commanding
force.
In consequence of his suggestion, thirteen persons in confinement for
traitorous offences, were removed to the jail of Litchfield in
Connecticut. Among the number was the late mayor; but as his offence was
not of so deep a dye as those whereof the rest stood charged, it was
recommended by the president of the Convention that he should be treated
with indulgence.
The proceedings of Lord Howe soon showed the policy of these
precautions. His lordship had prepared a declaration, addressed to the
people at large, informing them of the powers vested in his brother and
himself as commissioners for restoring peace; and inviting communities
as well as individuals, who, in the tumult and disasters of the times,
had deviated from their allegiance to the crown, to merit and receive
pardon by a prompt return to their duty. It was added, that proper
consideration would be had of the services of all who should contribute
to the restoration of public tranquillity.
His lordship really desired peace. According to a contemporary, he came
to America “as a mediator, not as a destroyer,”[78] and had founded
great hopes in the efficacy of this document in rallying back the people
to their allegiance; it was a sore matter of regret to him, therefore,
to find that, in consequence of his tardy arrival, his invitation to
loyalty had been forestalled by the Declaration of Independence.
Still it might have an effect in bringing adherents to the royal
standard; he sent a flag on shore, therefore, bearing a circular letter,
written in his civil and military capacity, to the colonial governor,
requesting him to publish his address to the people as widely as
possible.
We have heretofore shown the tenacity with which Washington, in his
correspondence with Generals Gage and Howe, exacted the consideration
and deference due to him as commander-in-chief of the American armies;
he did this not from official pride and punctilio, but as the guardian
of American rights and dignities. A further step of the kind was yet to
be taken. The British officers, considering the Americans in arms rebels
without valid commissions, were in the habit of denying them all
military title. Washington’s general officers had urged him not to
submit to this tacit indignity, but to reject all letters directed to
him without a specification of his official rank.
An occasion now presented itself for the adjustment of this matter.
Within a day or two an officer of the British navy, Lieutenant Brown,
came with a flag from Lord Howe, seeking a conference with Washington.
Colonel Reed, the adjutant-general, embarked in a barge, and met him
half way between Governor’s and Staten Islands. The lieutenant informed
him that he was the bearer of a letter from Lord Howe to _Mr._
Washington. Colonel Reed replied, that he knew no such person in the
American army. The lieutenant produced and offered the letter. It was
addressed to George Washington, Esquire. He was informed that it could
not be received with such a direction. The lieutenant expressed much
concern. The letter, he said, was of a civil, rather than a military
nature—Lord Howe regretted he had not arrived sooner—he had great
powers—it was much to be wished the letter could be received.
While the lieutenant was embarrassed and agitated, Reed maintained his
coolness, politely declining to receive the letter, as inconsistent with
his duty. They parted; but after the lieutenant had been rowed some
little distance, his barge was put about, and Reed waited to hear what
further he had to say. It was to ask by what title _General_—but,
catching himself, _Mr._ Washington chose to be addressed.
Reed replied that the general’s station in the army was well known; and
they could not be at a loss as to the proper mode of addressing him,
especially as this matter had been discussed in the preceding summer, of
which, he presumed, the admiral could not be ignorant. The lieutenant
again expressed his disappointment and regret, and their interview
closed.
On the 19th, an aide-de-camp of General Howe came with a flag, and
requested to know, as there appeared to be an obstacle to a
correspondence between the two generals, whether Colonel Patterson, the
British adjutant-general, could be admitted to an interview with General
Washington. Colonel Reed, who met the flag, consented in the name of the
general, and pledged his honor for the safety of the adjutant-general
during the interview, which was fixed for the following morning.
At the appointed time, Col. Reed and Colonel Webb, one of Washington’s
aides, met the flag in the harbor, took Colonel Patterson into their
barge, and escorted him to town, passing in front of the grand battery.
The customary precaution of blindfolding was dispensed with; and there
was a lively and sociable conversation the whole way. Washington
received the adjutant-general at head-quarters with much form and
ceremony, in full military array, with his officers and guards about
him.
Colonel Patterson, addressing him by the title of _your excellency_,
endeavored to explain the address of the letter as consistent with
propriety, and founded on a similar address in the previous summer, to
General Howe. That General Howe did not mean to derogate from the
respect or rank of General Washington, but conceived such an address
consistent with what had been used by ambassadors or plenipotentiaries
where difficulties of rank had arisen. He then produced, but did not
offer, a letter addressed to George Washington, Esquire, &c. &c., hoping
that the et ceteras, which implied every thing, would remove all
impediments.
Washington replied, that it was true, the et ceteras implied every
thing, but they also implied any thing. His letter alluded to, of the
previous summer, was in reply to one addressed in like manner. A letter,
he added, addressed to a person acting in a public character, should
have some inscriptions to designate it from a mere private letter; and
he should absolutely decline any letter addressed to himself as a
private person, when it related to his public station.
Colonel Patterson, finding the letter would not be received, endeavored,
as far as he could recollect, to communicate the scope of it in the
course of a somewhat desultory conversation. What he chiefly dwelt upon
was, that Lord Howe and his brother had been specially nominated
commissioners for the promotion of peace, which was esteemed a mark of
favor and regard to America; that they had great powers, and would
derive the highest pleasure from effecting an accommodation; and he
concluded by adding, that he wished his visit to be considered as making
the first advance toward that desirable object.
Washington replied that, by what had appeared (alluding, no doubt, to
Lord Howe’s circular), their powers, it would seem, were only to grant
pardons. Now those who had committed no fault needed no pardon; and such
was the case with the Americans, who were only defending what they
considered their indisputable rights.
Colonel Patterson avoided a discussion of this matter, which, he
observed, would open a very wide field; so here the conference, which
had been conducted on both sides with great courtesy, terminated. The
colonel took his leave, excusing himself from partaking of a collation,
having made a late breakfast, and was again conducted to his boat. He
expressed himself highly sensible of the courtesy of his treatment, in
having the usual ceremony of blindfolding dispensed with.
Washington received the applause of Congress and of the public for
sustaining the dignity of his station. His conduct in this particular
was recommended as a model to all American officers in corresponding
with the enemy; and Lord Howe informed his government that,
thenceforward, it would be politic to change the superscription of his
letters.
In the mean time the irruption of the Phœnix and the Rose into the
waters of the Hudson had roused a belligerent spirit along its borders.
The lower part of that noble river is commanded on the eastern side by
the bold woody heights of Manhattan Island and Westchester County, and
on the western side by the rocky cliffs of the Palisades. Beyond those
cliffs, the river expands into a succession of what may almost be termed
lakes; first the Tappan Sea, then Haverstraw Bay, then the Bay of
Peekskill; separated from each other by long stretching points, or high
beetling promontories, but affording ample sea room and safe anchorage.
Then come the redoubtable Highlands, that strait, fifteen miles in
length, where the river bends its course, narrow and deep, between
rocky, forest-clad mountains. “He who has command of that grand defile,”
said an old navigator, “may at any time throttle the Hudson.”
The New York Convention, aware of the impending danger, despatched
military envoys to stir up the yeomanry along the river, and order out
militia. Powder and ball were sent to Tarrytown, before which the
hostile ships were anchored, and yeoman troops were stationed there and
along the neighboring shores of the Tappan Sea. In a little while the
militia of Dutchess County and Cortlandt’s Manor were hastening, rudely
armed, to protect the public stores at Peekskill, and mount guard at the
entrance of the Highlands.
No one showed more zeal in this time of alarm, than Colonel Pierre Van
Cortlandt, of an old colonial family, which held its manorial residence
at the mouth of the Croton. With his regiment he kept a dragon watch
along the eastern shore of the Tappan Sea and Haverstraw Bay; while
equal vigilance was maintained night and day along the western shore,
from Nyack quite up to the Donderberg, by Colonel Hay and his regiment
of Haverstraw. Sheep and cattle were driven inland, out of the reach of
maraud. Sentinels were posted to keep a look-out from heights and
headlands and give the alarm should any boats approach the shore, and
rustic marksmen were ready to assemble in a moment, and give them a warm
reception.
The ships of war which caused this alarm and turmoil, lay quietly
anchored in the broad expanses of the Tappan Sea and Haverstraw Bay;
shifting their ground occasionally, and keeping out of musket shot of
the shore, apparently sleeping in the summer sunshine, with awnings
stretched above their decks; while their boats were out taking soundings
quite up to the Highlands, evidently preparing for further operations.
At night, too, their barges were heard rowing up and down the river on
mysterious errands; perriaugers, also, paid them furtive visits
occasionally; it was surmised, with communications and supplies from
tories on shore.
While the ships were anchored in Haverstraw Bay, one of the tenders
stood into the Bay of Peekskill, and beat up within long shot of Fort
Montgomery, where General George Clinton was ensconced with six hundred
of the militia of Orange and Ulster counties. As the tender approached,
a thirty-two pounder was brought to range upon her. The ball passed
through her quarter; whereupon she put about, and ran round the point of
the Donderberg, where the boat landed, plundered a solitary house at the
foot of the mountain, and left it in flames. The marauders, on their way
back to the ships, were severely galled by rustic marksmen, from a
neighboring promontory.
The ships, now acquainted with the channel, moved up within six miles of
Fort Montgomery. General Clinton apprehended they might mean to take
advantage of a dark night, and slip by him in the deep shadows of the
mountains. The shores were high and bold, the river was deep, the
navigation of course safe and easy. Once above the Highlands, they might
ravage the country beyond, and destroy certain vessels of war which were
being constructed at Poughkeepsie.
To prevent this, he stationed a guard at night on the furthest point in
view, about two miles and a half below the fort, prepared to kindle a
blazing fire should the ships appear in sight. Large piles of dry
brushwood mixed with combustibles, were prepared at various places up
and down the shore opposite to the fort, and men stationed to set fire
to them as soon as a signal should be given from the lower point. The
fort, therefore, while it remained in darkness, would have a fair chance
with its batteries as the ships passed between it and these
conflagrations.
A private committee sent up by the New York Convention, had a conference
with the general, to devise further means of obstructing the passage of
ships up the river. Fire rafts were to be brought from Poughkeepsie and
kept at hand ready for action. These were to be lashed two together,
with chains, between old sloops filled with combustibles, and sent down
with a strong wind and tide, to drive upon the ships. An iron chain,
also, was to be stretched obliquely across the river from Fort
Montgomery to the foot of Anthony’s Nose, thus, as it were, chaining up
the gate of the Highlands.
For a protection below the Highlands, it was proposed to station
whale-boats about the coves and promontories of Tappan Sea and
Haverstraw Bay; to reconnoitre the enemy, cruise about at night, carry
intelligence from post to post, seize any river craft that might bring
the ships supplies, and cut off their boats when attempting to land.
Galleys, also, were prepared, with nine-pounders mounted at the bows.
Colonel Hay of Haverstraw, in a letter to Washington, rejoices that the
national Congress are preparing to protect this great highway of the
country, and anticipates that the banks of the Hudson were about to
become the chief theatre of the war.
NOTE.
THE VAN CORTLANDT FAMILY.—Two members of this old and honorable family
were conspicuous patriots throughout the Revolution. Pierre Van
Cortlandt, the father, at this time about 56 years of age, a stanch
friend and ally of George Clinton, was member of the first Provincial
Congress, and president of the Committee of Public Safety. Governor
Tryon had visited him in his old manor house at the mouth of the
Croton, in 1774, and made him offers of royal favors, honors, grants
of land, &c., if he would abandon the popular cause. His offers were
nobly rejected. The Cortlandt family suffered in consequence, being at
one time obliged to abandon their manorial residence: but the head
remained true to the cause, and subsequently filled the office of
Lieutenant-governor with great dignity.
His son Pierre, mentioned in the above chapter, and then about 27
years of age, had likewise resisted the overtures of Tryon, destroying
a major’s commission in the Cortlandt militia, which he sent him.
Congress, in 1775, made him lieutenant-colonel in the Continental
service, in which capacity we now find him, acquitting himself with
zeal and ability
CHAPTER XXVIII.
QUESTION OF COMMAND BETWEEN GATES AND SCHUYLER—CONDITION OF THE ARMY AT
CROWN POINT—DISCONTENT AND DEPARTURE OF SULLIVAN—FORTIFICATIONS AT
TICONDEROGA—THE QUESTION OF COMMAND ADJUSTED—SECRET
DISCONTENTS—SECTIONAL JEALOUSIES IN THE ARMY—SOUTHERN TROOPS—SMALLWOOD’S
MACARONI BATTALION—CONNECTICUT LIGHT-HORSE.
While the security of the Hudson from invading ships was claiming the
attention of Washington, he was equally anxious to prevent an irruption
of the enemy from Canada. He was grieved, therefore, to find there was a
clashing of authorities between the generals who had charge of the
Northern frontier. Gates, on his way to take command of the army in
Canada, had heard with surprise in Albany, of its retreat across the New
York frontier. He still considered it under his orders, and was
proceeding to act accordingly; when General Schuyler observed, that the
resolution of Congress, and the instructions of Washington, applied to
the army only while in Canada; the moment it retreated within the limits
of New York, it came within his (Schuyler’s) command. A letter from
Schuyler to Washington, written at the time, says: “If Congress intended
that General Gates should command the Northern army, wherever it may be,
as he assures me they did, it ought to have been signified to me, and I
should then have immediately resigned the command to him; but until such
intention is properly conveyed to me, I never can. I must, therefore,
entreat your Excellency to lay this letter before Congress, that they
may clearly and explicitly signify their intentions, to avert the
dangers and evils that may arise from a disputed command.”
That there might be no delay in the service at this critical juncture,
the two generals agreed to refer the question of command to Congress,
and in the mean time to act in concert. They accordingly departed
together for Lake Champlain, to prepare against an anticipated invasion
by Sir Guy Carleton. They arrived at Crown Point on the 6th of July, and
found there the wrecks of the army recently driven out of Canada. They
had been harassed in their retreat by land; their transportation on the
lake had been in leaky boats, without awnings, where the sick, suffering
from smallpox, lay on straw, exposed to a burning July sun; no food but
salt pork, often rancid, hard biscuit or unbaked flour, and scarcely any
medicine. Not more than six thousand men had reached Crown Point, and
half of those were on the sick list; the shattered remains of twelve or
fifteen very fine battalions. Some few were sheltered in tents, some
under sheds, and others in huts hastily formed of bushes; scarce one of
which but contained a dead or dying man. Two thousand eight hundred were
to be sent to a hospital recently established at the south end of Lake
George, a distance of fifty miles; when they were gone, with those who
were to row them in boats, there would remain but the shadow of an
army.[79]
In a council of war, it was determined that, under present
circumstances, the post of Crown Point was not tenable; neither was it
capable of being made so this summer, without a force greatly superior
to any they might reasonably expect; and that, therefore, it was
expedient to fall back, and take a strong position at Ticonderoga.
General Sullivan had been deeply hurt that Gates, his former inferior in
rank, should have been appointed over him to the command of the army in
Canada; considering it a tacit intimation that Congress did not esteem
him competent to the trust which had devolved upon him. He now,
therefore, requested leave of absence, in order to wait on the
commander-in-chief. It was granted with reluctance. Before departing, he
communicated to the army, through General Schuyler, his high and
grateful sense of their exertions in securing a retreat from Canada, and
the cheerfulness with which his commands had been received and obeyed.
On the 9th of July, Schuyler and Gates returned to Ticonderoga,
accompanied by Arnold. Instant arrangements were made to encamp the
troops, and land the artillery and stores as fast as they should arrive.
Great exertions, also, were made to strengthen the defences of the
place. Colonel John Trumbull, who was to have accompanied Gates to
Canada, as adjutant-general, had been reconnoitring the neighborhood of
Ticonderoga, and had pitched upon a place for a fortification on the
eastern side of the lake, directly opposite the east point of
Ticonderoga, where Fort Independence was subsequently built. He also
advised the erection of a work on a lofty eminence, the termination of a
mountain ridge, which separates Lake George from Lake Champlain. His
advice was unfortunately disregarded. The eminence, subsequently called
Mount Defiance, looked down upon and commanded the narrow parts of both
lakes. We shall hear more of it hereafter.
Preparations were made, also, to augment the naval force on the lakes.
Ship carpenters from the Eastern States were employed at Skenesborough,
to build the hulls of galleys and boats, which, when launched, were to
be sent down to Ticonderoga for equipment and armament, under the
superintendence of General Arnold.
Schuyler soon returned to Albany, to superintend the general concerns of
the Northern department. He was indefatigable in procuring and
forwarding the necessary materials and artillery for the fortification
of Ticonderoga.
The question of command between him and Gates, was apparently at rest. A
letter from the President of Congress, dated July 8th, informed General
Gates, that according to the resolution of that body under which he had
been appointed, his command was totally independent of General Schuyler,
_while the army was in Canada_, but no longer. Congress had no design to
divest General Schuyler of the command while the troops were _on this
side of Canada_.
To Schuyler, under the same date, the president writes: “The Congress
highly approve of your patriotism and magnanimity in not suffering any
difference of opinion to hurt the public service.
“A mutual confidence and good understanding are at this time essentially
necessary, so that I am persuaded they will take place on all occasions
between yourself and General Gates.”
Gates professed himself entirely satisfied with the explanation he had
received, and perfectly disposed to obey the commands of Schuyler. “I am
confident,” added he, “we shall, as the Congress wish, go hand in hand
to promote the public welfare.”
Schuyler, too, assured both Congress and Washington, “that the
difference in opinion between Gates and himself had not caused the least
ill will, nor interrupted that harmony necessary to subsist between
their officers.”
Samuel Adams, however, who was at that time in Congress, had strong
doubts in the matter.
“Schuyler and Gates are to command the troops,” writes he, “the former
while they are without, the latter while they are within, the bounds of
Canada. Admitting these generals to have the accomplishments of a
Marlborough, or a Eugene, I cannot conceive that such a disposition of
them will be attended with any good effects, unless harmony subsists
between them. Alas, I fear this is not the case. Already disputes have
arisen, which they have referred to Congress; and, although they affect
to treat each other with a politeness becoming their rank, in my mind,
altercations between commanders who have pretensions nearly equal (I
mean in point of command), forebode a repetition of misfortune. I
sincerely wish my apprehensions may prove groundless.”[80]
We have a letter before us, also, written to Gates, by his friend Joseph
Trumbull, commissary-general, on whose appointment of a deputy, the
question of command had arisen. Trumbull’s letter was well calculated to
inflame the jealousy of Gates. “I find you are in a cursed situation,”
writes he; “your authority at an end; and commanded by a person who will
be willing to have you knocked in the head, as General Montgomery was,
if he can have the money chest in his power.”
Governor Trumbull, too, the father of the commissary-general, observes
subsequently: “It is justly to be expected that General Gates is
discontented with his situation, finding himself limited and removed
from the command, to be a wretched spectator of the ruin of the army,
without power, of attempting to save them.”[81] We shall have frequent
occasion hereafter to notice the discord in the service caused by this
rankling discontent.
As to General Sullivan, who repaired to Philadelphia and tendered his
resignation, the question of rank which had aggrieved him was explained
in a manner that induced him to continue in service. It was universally
allowed that his retreat had been ably conducted through all kinds of
difficulties and disasters.
A greater source of solicitude to Washington than this jealousy between
commanders, was the sectional jealousy springing up among the troops. In
a letter to Schuyler (July 17th), he says, “I must entreat your
attention to do away the unhappy and pernicious distinctions and
jealousies between the troops of different governments. Enjoin this upon
the officers, and let them inculcate and press home to the soldiery, the
necessity of order and harmony among those who are embarked in one
common cause, and mutually contending for all that freemen hold dear.”
Nowhere were these sectional jealousies more prevalent than in the
motley army assembled from distant quarters under Washington’s own
command. Reed, the adjutant-general, speaking on this subject, observes:
“The Southern troops, comprising the regiments south of the Delaware,
looked with very unkind feelings on those of New England; especially
those from Connecticut, whose peculiarities of deportment made them the
objects of ill-disguised derision among their fellow-soldiers.”[82]
Among the troops thus designated as Southern, were some from Virginia
under a Major Leitch; others from Maryland, under Colonel Smallwood;
others from Delaware led by Colonel Haslet. There were four Continental
battalions from Pennsylvania, commanded by Colonels Shee, St. Clair,
Wayne, and Magaw; and provincial battalions, two of which were severally
commanded by Colonels Miles and Atlee. The Continental battalion under
Colonel Shee, was chiefly from the city of Philadelphia, especially the
officers; among whom were Lambert Cadwalader and William Allen, members
of two of the principal, and most aristocratic families, and Alexander
Graydon, to whose memoirs we are indebted for some graphic pictures of
the times.
These Pennsylvania troops were under the command of Brigadier-general
Mifflin, who, in the preceding year, had acted as Washington’s
aide-de-camp, and afterwards as quartermaster-general. His townsman and
intimate, Graydon, characterizes him as a man of education and
cultivated manners, with a great talent at haranguing; highly animated
in his appearance, full of activity and apparently of fire; but rather
too much of a bustler, harassing his men unnecessarily. “He assumed,”
adds Graydon, “a little of the veteran, from having been before Boston.”
His troops were chiefly encamped near King’s Bridge, and employed in
constructing works at Fort Washington.
Smallwood’s Maryland battalion was one of the brightest in point of
equipment. The scarlet and buff uniforms of those Southerners contrasted
vividly with the rustic attire of the yeoman battalions from the East.
Their officers, too, looked down upon their Connecticut compeers, who
could only be distinguished from their men by wearing a cockade. “There
were none,” says Graydon, “by whom an unofficer-like appearance and
deportment could be tolerated less than by a city-bred Marylander; who,
at this time, was distinguished by the most fashionable cut coat, the
most _macaroni_ cocked-hat, and hottest blood in the Union.” Alas, for
the homespun-clad officers from Connecticut River!
The Pennsylvania regiment under Shee, according to Graydon, promoted
balls and other entertainments, in contradistinction to the fast-days
and sermons borrowed from New England. There was nothing of the
puritanical spirit among the Pennsylvanian soldiery.
In the same sectional spirit, he speaks of the Connecticut light-horse:
“Old-fashioned men, truly irregulars; whether their clothing,
equipments, or caparisons were regarded, it would have been difficult to
have discovered any circumstance of uniformity. Instead of carbines and
sabres, they generally carried fowling-pieces, some of them very long,
such as in Pennsylvania are used for shooting ducks. Here and there one
appeared in a dingy regimental of scarlet, with a triangular, tarnished,
laced hat. These singular dragoons were volunteers, who came to make a
tender of their services to the commander-in-chief. But they staid not
long in New York. As such a body of cavalry had not been counted upon,
there was in all probability a want of forage for their _jades_, which,
in the spirit of ancient knighthood, they absolutely refused to descend
from; and as the general had no use for cavaliers in his insular
operations, they were forthwith dismissed, with suitable acknowledgments
for their truly chivalrous ardor.”[83]
The troops thus satirized, were a body of between four and five hundred
Connecticut light-horse, under Colonel Thomas Seymour. On an appeal for
aid to the governor of their State, they had voluntarily hastened on in
advance of the militia, to render the most speedy succor. Supposing,
from the suddenness and urgency of the call upon their services, that
they were immediately to be called into action and promptly to return
home, they had come off in such haste, that many were unprovided even
with a blanket or a change of clothing.
Washington speaks of them as being for the most part, if not all, men of
reputation and property. They were, in fact, mostly farmers. As to their
sorry _jades_, they were rough country horses, such as farmers keep, not
for show, but service. As to their dingy regimentals, we quote a word in
their favor from a writer of that day. “Some of these worthy soldiers
assisted in their present uniforms at the reduction of Louisburg, and
their ’lank checks and war-worn coats,’ are viewed with more veneration
by their honest countrymen, than if they were glittering nabobs from
India, or bashaws with nine tails.”[84]
On arriving, their horses, from scarcity of forage, had to be pastured
about King’s Bridge. In fact, Washington informed them that, under
present circumstances, they could not be of use as horsemen; on which
they concluded to stay, and do duty on foot till the arrival of the new
levies.[85] In a letter to Governor Trumbull (July 11), Washington
observes: “The officers and men of that corps have manifested so firm an
attachment to the cause we are engaged in, that they have consented to
remain here, till such a body of troops are marched from your colony as
will be a sufficient reinforcement, so as to admit of their leaving this
city with safety. * * * * They have the additional merit of determining
to stay, even if they are obliged to maintain their horses at their own
expense.”[86]
In a very few days, however, the troopers, on being requested to mount
guard like other soldiers, grew restless and uneasy. Colonel Seymour and
his brother field-officers, therefore, addressed a note to Washington,
stating that, by the positive laws of Connecticut, the light-horse were
expressly exempted from staying in garrison, or doing duty on foot,
apart from their horses; and that they found it impossible to detain
their men any longer under that idea, they having come “without the
least expectation or preparation for such services.” They respectfully,
therefore, asked a dismission in form. Washington’s brief reply, shows
that he was nettled by their conduct.
“Gentlemen: In answer to yours of this date, I can only repeat to you
what I said last night, and that is, that if your men think themselves
exempt from the common duty of a soldier—will not mount guard, do
garrison duty, or service separate from their horses—they can no longer
be of any use here, where horses cannot be brought to action, and I do
not care how soon they are dismissed.”
In fact, the assistance of these troops was much needed; yet he
apprehended the exemption from fatigue and garrison duty which they
demanded as a right, would, if granted, set a dangerous example to
others, and be productive of many evil consequences.
In the hurry of various concerns he directed his aide-de-camp, Colonel
Webb, to write in his name to Governor Trumbull on the subject.
Colonel Seymour, on his return home, addressed a long letter to the
governor explanatory of his conduct. “I can’t help remarking to your
honor,” adds he, “that it may with truth be said, General Washington is
a gentleman of extreme care and caution: that his requisitions for men
are fully equal to the necessities of the case. * * * I should have
stopped here, but am this moment informed that Mr. Webb, General
Washington’s aide-de-camp, has written to your honor something
dishonorable to the light-horse. Whatever it may be I know not, but this
I do know, that it is a general observation both in camp and country, if
the butterflies and coxcombs were away from the army, we should not be
put to so much difficulty in obtaining men of common sense to engage in
the defence of their country.”[87]
As to the Connecticut infantry which had been furnished by Governor
Trumbull in the present emergency, they likewise were substantial
farmers, whose business, he observed, would require their return, when
the necessity of their further stay in the army should be over. They
were all men of simple rural manners, from an agricultural State, where
great equality of condition prevailed; the officers were elected by the
men out of their own ranks, they were their own neighbors, and every way
their equals. All this, as yet, was but little understood or appreciated
by the troops from the South, among whom military rank was more defined
and tenaciously observed, and where the officers were men of the cities,
and of more aristocratic habits.
We have drawn out from contemporary sources these few particulars
concerning the sectional jealousies thus early springing up among the
troops from the different States, to show the difficulties with which
Washington had to contend at the outset, and which formed a growing
object of solicitude throughout the rest of his career.
John Adams, speaking of the violent passions, and discordant interests
at work throughout the country, from Florida to Canada, observes: “It
requires more serenity of temper, a deeper understanding, and more
courage than fell to the lot of Marlborough, to ride in this
whirlwind.”[88]
CHAPTER XXIX.
SOUTHERN CRUISE OF SIR HENRY CLINTON—FORTIFICATIONS AT
CHARLESTON—ARRIVAL THERE OF GENERAL LEE—BATTLE AT SULLIVAN’S
ISLAND—WASHINGTON ANNOUNCES THE RESULT TO THE ARMY.
Letters from General Lee gave Washington intelligence of the fate of Sir
Henry Clinton’s expedition to the South; that expedition which had been
the subject of so much surmise and perplexity. Sir Henry in his cruise
along the coast had been repeatedly foiled by Lee. First, as we have
shown, when he looked in at New York; next, when he paused at Norfolk in
Virginia; and lastly, when he made a bold attempt at Charleston in South
Carolina; for scarce did his ships appear off the bar of the harbor,
than the omnipresent Lee was marching his troops into the city.
Within a year past, Charleston had been fortified at various points.
Fort Johnson, on James Island, three miles from the city, and commanding
the breadth of the channel, was garrisoned by a regiment of South
Carolina regulars under Colonel Gadsden. A strong fort had recently been
constructed nearly opposite, on the south-west point of Sullivan’s
Island, about six miles below the city. It was mounted with twenty-six
guns, and garrisoned by three hundred and seventy-five regulars and a
few militia, and commanded by Colonel William Moultrie, of South
Carolina, who had constructed it. This fort, in connection with that on
James Island, was considered the key of the harbor.
Cannon had also been mounted on Haddrell’s Point on the mainland, to the
north-west of Sullivan’s Island, and along the bay in front of the town.
The arrival of General Lee gave great joy to the people of Charleston,
from his high reputation for military skill and experience. According to
his own account in a letter to Washington, the town on his arrival was
“utterly defenceless.” He was rejoiced therefore, when the enemy,
instead of immediately attacking it, directed his whole force against
the fort on Sullivan’s Island. “He has lost an opportunity,” said Lee,
“such as I hope will never occur again, of taking the town.”
The British ships, in fact, having passed the bar with some difficulty,
landed their troops on Long Island, situated to the east of Sullivan’s
Island, and separated from it by a small creek called the Breach. Sir
Henry Clinton meditated a combined attack with his land and naval forces
on the fort commanded by Moultrie; the capture of which, he thought,
would insure the reduction of Charleston.
The Americans immediately threw up works on the north-eastern extremity
of Sullivan’s Island, to prevent the passage of the enemy over the
Breach, stationing a force of regulars and militia there, under Colonel
Thompson. General Lee encamped on Haddrell’s Point, on the mainland, to
the north of the island, whence he intended to keep up a communication
by a bridge of boats, so as to be ready at any moment to aid either
Moultrie or Thompson.
Sir Henry Clinton, on the other hand, had to construct batteries on Long
Island, to oppose those of Thompson, and cover the passage of his troops
by boats or by the ford. Thus time was consumed, and the enemy were,
from the 1st to the 28th of June, preparing for the attack; their troops
suffering from the intense heat of the sun on the burning sands of Long
Island, and both fleet and army complaining of brackish water and scanty
and bad provisions.
At length on the 28th of June, the Thunder Bomb commenced the attack,
throwing shells at the fort as the fleet, under Sir Peter Parker,
advanced. About eleven o’clock the ships dropped their anchors directly
before the front battery. “I was at this time in a boat,” writes Lee,
“endeavoring to make the island; but the wind and tide being violently
against us, drove us on the main. They immediately commenced the most
furious fire I ever heard or saw. I confess I was in pain, from the
little confidence I reposed in our troops; the officers being all boys,
and the men raw recruits. What augmented my anxiety was, that we had no
bridge finished for retreat or communication; and the creek or cove
which separates it from the continent is near a mile wide. I had
received, likewise, intelligence that their land troops intended at the
same time to land and assault. I never in my life felt myself so uneasy;
and what added to my uneasiness was, that I knew our stock of ammunition
was miserably low. I had once thought of ordering the commanding officer
to spike his guns, and, when his ammunition was spent, to retreat with
as little loss as possible. However, I thought proper previously to send
to town for a fresh supply, if it could possibly be procured, and
ordered my aide-de-camp, Mr. Byrd (who is a lad of magnanimous courage),
to pass over in a small canoe, and report the state of the spirit of the
garrison. If it had been low, I should have abandoned all thoughts of
defence. His report was flattering. I then determined to maintain the
post at all risks, and passed the creek or cove in a small boat, in
order to animate the garrison in propria personâ; but I found they had
no occasion for such an encouragement.
“They were pleased with my visit, and assured me they never would
abandon the post but with their lives. The cool courage they displayed
astonished and enraptured me, for I do assure you, my dear general, I
never experienced a better fire. Twelve full hours it was continued
without intermission. The noble fellows who were mortally wounded,
conjured their brethren never to abandon the standard of liberty. Those
who lost their limbs deserted not their posts. Upon the whole, they
acted like Romans in the third century.”
Much of the foregoing is corroborated by the statement of a British
historian. “While the continued fire of our ships,” writes he, “seemed
sufficient to shake the fierceness of the bravest enemy, and daunt the
courage of the most veteran soldier, the return made by the fort could
not fail calling for the respect, as well as of highly incommoding the
brave seamen of Britain. In the midst of that dreadful roar of
artillery, they stuck with the greatest constancy and firmness to their
guns; fired deliberately and slowly, and took a cool and effective aim.
The ships suffered accordingly, they were torn almost to pieces, and the
slaughter was dreadful. Never did British valor shine more conspicuous,
and never did our marine in an engagement of the same nature with any
foreign enemy experience so rude an encounter.”[89]
The fire from the ships did not produce the expected effect. The
fortifications were low, composed of earth and palmetto wood, which is
soft, and makes no splinters, and the merlons were extremely thick. At
one time there was a considerable pause in the American fire, and the
enemy thought the fort was abandoned. It was only because the powder was
exhausted. As soon as a supply could be forwarded from the mainland by
General Lee, the fort resumed its fire with still more deadly effect.
Through unskilful pilotage, several of the ships ran aground, where one,
the frigate Actæon, remained; the rest were extricated with difficulty.
Those which bore the brunt of the action were much cut up. One hundred
and seventy-five men were killed, and nearly as many wounded. Captain
Scott, commanding the Experiment, of fifty guns, lost an arm, and was
otherwise wounded. Captain Morris, commanding the Actæon, was slain. So
also was Lord Campbell, late governor of the province, who served as a
volunteer on board of the squadron.
Sir Henry Clinton, with two thousand troops and five or six hundred
seamen, attempted repeatedly to cross from Long Island, and co-operate
in the attack upon the fort, but was as often foiled by Colonel
Thompson, with his battery of two cannons, and a body of South Carolina
rangers and North Carolina regulars. “Upon the whole,” says Lee, “the
South and North Carolina troops and Virginia rifle battalion we have
here, are admirable soldiers.”
The combat slackened before sunset, and ceased before ten o’clock. Sir
Peter Parker, who had received a severe contusion in the engagement,
then slipped his cables, and drew off his shattered ships to Five Fathom
Hole. The Actæon remained aground.
On the following morning Sir Henry Clinton made another attempt to cross
from Long Island to Sullivan’s Island; but was again repulsed, and
obliged to take shelter behind his breastworks. Sir Peter Parker, too,
giving up all hope of reducing the fort in the shattered condition of
his ships, ordered that the Actæon should be set on fire and abandoned.
The crew left her in flames, with the guns loaded, and the colors
flying. The Americans boarded her in time to haul down her colors, and
secure them as a trophy, discharge her guns at one of the enemy’s ships,
and load three boats with stores. They then abandoned her to her fate,
and in half an hour she blew up.
Within a few days the troops were reembarked from Long Island; the
attempt upon Charleston was for the present abandoned, and the fleet
once more put to sea.
In this action, one of the severest in the whole course of the war, the
loss of the Americans in killed and wounded, was but thirty-five men.
Colonel Moultrie derived the greatest glory from the defence of
Sullivan’s Island; though the thanks of Congress were voted as well to
General Lee, Colonel Thompson, and those under their command.
“For God’s sake, my dear general,” writes Lee to Washington, “urge the
Congress to furnish me with a thousand cavalry. With a thousand cavalry
I could insure the safety of these Southern provinces; and without
cavalry, I can answer for nothing. From want of this species of troops
we had infallibly lost this capital, but the dilatoriness and stupidity
of the enemy saved us.”
The tidings of this signal repulse of the enemy came most opportunely to
Washington, when he was apprehending an attack upon New York. He writes
in a familiar vein to Schuyler on the subject. “Sir Peter Parker and his
fleet got a severe drubbing in an attack upon our works on Sullivan’s
Island, just by Charleston in South Carolina; a part of their troops, at
the same time, in attempting to land, were repulsed.” He assumed a
different tone in announcing it to the army in a general order of the
21st July. “This generous example of our troops under the like
circumstances with us, the general hopes, will animate every officer and
soldier to imitate, and even outdo them, when the enemy shall make the
same attempt on us. With such a bright example before us of what can be
done by brave men fighting in defence of their country, we shall be
loaded with a double share of shame and infamy if we do not acquit
ourselves with courage, and manifest a determined resolution to conquer
or die.”
CHAPTER XXX.
PUTNAM’S MILITARY PROJECTS—CHEVAUX-DE-FRISE AT FORT WASHINGTON—MEDITATED
ATTACK ON STATEN ISLAND—ARRIVAL OF SHIPS—HESSIAN REINFORCEMENTS—SCOTCH
HIGHLANDERS—SIR HENRY CLINTON AND LORD CORNWALLIS—PUTNAM’S OBSTRUCTIONS
OF THE HUDSON—THE PHŒNIX AND ROSE ATTACKED BY ROW GALLIES AT
TARRYTOWN—GENERAL ORDER OF WASHINGTON ON THE SUBJECT OF SECTIONAL
JEALOUSIES—PROFANE SWEARING PROHIBITED IN THE CAMP—PREPARATIONS AGAINST
ATTACK—LEVIES OF YEOMANRY—GEORGE CLINTON IN COMMAND OF THE LEVIES ALONG
THE HUDSON—ALARMS OF THE PEOPLE OF NEW YORK—BENEVOLENT SYMPATHY OF
WASHINGTON—THE PHŒNIX GRAPPLED BY A FIRE-SHIP—THE SHIPS EVACUATE THE
HUDSON.
General Putnam, beside his bravery in the field, was somewhat of a
mechanical projector. The batteries at Fort Washington had proved
ineffectual in opposing the passage of hostile ships up the Hudson. He
was now engaged on a plan for obstructing the channel opposite the fort,
so as to prevent the passing of any more ships. A letter from him to
General Gates (July 26th) explains his project. “We are preparing
chevaux-de-frise, at which we make great despatch by the help of ships,
which are to be sunk—a scheme of mine which you may be assured is very
simple; a plan of which I send you. The two ships’ sterns lie towards
each other, about seventy feet apart. Three large logs, which reach from
ship to ship, are fastened to them. The two ships and logs stop the
river two hundred and eighty feet. The ships are to be sunk, and when
hauled down on one side, the pricks will be raised to a proper height,
and they must inevitably stop the river, if the enemy will let us sink
them.”
It so happened that one Ephraim Anderson, adjutant to the second Jersey
battalion, had recently submitted a project to Congress for destroying
the enemy’s fleet in the harbor of New York. He had attempted an
enterprise of the kind against the British ships in the harbor of Quebec
during the siege, and, according to his own account, would have
succeeded, had not the enemy discovered his intentions, and stretched a
cable across the mouth of the harbor, and had he not accidentally been
much burnt.
His scheme was favorably entertained by Congress, and Washington, by a
letter dated July 10th, was instructed to aid him in carrying it into
effect. Anderson, accordingly, was soon at work at New York constructing
fire-ships, with which the fleet was to be attacked. Simultaneous with
the attack, a descent was to be made on the British camp on Staten
Island, from the nearest point of the Jersey shore, by troops from
Mercer’s flying camp, and by others stationed at Bergen under Major
Knowlton, Putnam’s favorite officer for daring enterprises.
Putman entered into the scheme as zealously as if it had been his own.
Indeed, by the tenor of his letter to Gates, already quoted, he seemed
almost to consider it so. “The enemy’s fleet,” writes he, “now lies in
the bay, close under Staten Island. Their troops possess no land here
but the island. Is it not strange that those invincible troops, who were
to lay waste all this country with their fleets and army, are so fond of
islands and peninsulas, and dare not put their feet on the main? But I
hope, by the blessing of God, and good friends, we shall pay them a
visit on their island. For that end we are preparing fourteen fire-ships
to go into their fleet, some of which are ready charged and fitted to
sail, and I hope soon to have them all fixed.”
Anderson, also, on the 31st July, writes from New York to the President
of Congress: “I have been for some time past very assiduous in the
preparation of fire-ships. Two are already complete, and hauled off into
the stream; two more will be off to-morrow, and the residue in a very
short time. In my next, I hope to give you a particular account of a
general conflagration, as every thing in my power shall be exerted for
the demolition of the enemy’s fleet. I expect to take an active part,
and be an instrument for that purpose. I am determined (God willing) to
make a conspicuous figure among them, by being a ’burning and shining
light,’ and thereby serve my country, and have the honor of meeting the
approbation of Congress.”[90]
Projectors are subject to disappointments. It was impossible to
construct a sufficient number of fire-ships and galleys in time. The
flying camp, too, recruited but slowly, and scarcely exceeded three
thousand men; the combined attack by fire and sword had therefore to be
given up, and the “burning and shining light” again failed of
conflagration.
Still, a partial night attack on the Staten Island encampment was
concerted by Mercer and Knowlton, and twice attempted. On one occasion,
they were prevented from crossing the strait by tempestuous weather, on
another by deficiency of boats.
In the course of a few days arrived a hundred sail, with large
reinforcements, among which were one thousand Hessians, and as many more
were reported to be on the way. The troops were disembarked on Staten
Island, and fortifications thrown up on some of the most commanding
hills.
All projects of attack upon the enemy were now out of the question.
Indeed, some of Washington’s ablest advisers questioned the policy of
remaining in New York, where they might be entrapped as the British had
been in Boston. Reed, the adjutant-general, observed that, as the
communication by the Hudson was interrupted, there was nothing now to
keep them at New York but a mere point of honor; in the mean time, they
endangered the loss of the army and its military stores. Why should they
risk so much in defending a city, while the greater part of its
inhabitants were plotting their destruction? His advice was, that, when
they could defend the city no longer, they should evacuate, and burn it,
and retire from Manhattan Island; should avoid any general action, or
indeed any action, unless in view of great advantages; and should make
it a war of posts.
During the latter part of July, and the early part of August, ships of
war with their tenders continued to arrive, and Scotch Highlanders,
Hessians, and other troops to be landed on Staten Island. At the
beginning of August, the squadron with Sir Henry Clinton, recently
repulsed at Charleston, anchored in the bay. “His coming,” writes
Colonel Reed, “was as unexpected as if he had dropped from the clouds.”
He was accompanied by Lord Cornwallis, and brought three thousand
troops.
In the mean time, Putnam’s contrivances for obstructing the channel had
reached their destined place. A letter dated Fort Washington, August 3d,
says: “Four ships chained and boomed, with a number of amazing large
chevaux-de-frise, were sunk close by the fort under command of General
Mifflin, which fort mounts thirty-two pieces of heavy cannon. We are
thoroughly sanguine that they [the ships up the river] never will be
able to join the British fleet, nor assistance from the fleet be
afforded to them; so that we may set them down as our own.”
Another letter, written at the same date from Tarrytown, on the borders
of the Tappan Sea, gives an account of an attack made by six row galleys
upon the Phœnix and the Rose. They fought bravely for two hours, hulling
the ships repeatedly, but sustaining great damage in return; until their
commodore, Colonel Tupper, gave the signal to draw off. “Never,” says
the writer, “did men behave with more firm, determined spirit, than our
little crews. One of our tars being mortally wounded, cried to his
companions: ’I am a dying man; revenge my blood, my boys, and carry me
alongside my gun, that I may die there.’ We were so preserved by a
gracious Providence, that in all our galleys we had but two men killed
and fourteen wounded, two of which are thought dangerous. We hope to
have another touch at those pirates before they leave our river; which
God prosper!”
Such was the belligerent spirit prevailing up the Hudson.
The force of the enemy collected in the neighborhood of New York was
about thirty thousand men; that of the Americans a little more than
seventeen thousand, but was subsequently increased to twenty thousand,
for the most part, raw and undisciplined. One fourth were on the sick
list with bilious and putrid fevers and dysentery; others were absent on
furlough or command; the rest had to be distributed over posts and
stations fifteen miles apart.
The sectional jealousies prevalent among them, were more and more a
subject of uneasiness to Washington. In one of his general orders he
observes: “It is with great concern that the general understands that
jealousies have arisen among the troops from the different provinces,
and reflections are frequently thrown out which can only tend to
irritate each other, and injure the noble cause in which we are engaged,
and which we ought to support with one hand and one heart. The general
most earnestly entreats the officers and soldiers to consider the
consequences; that they can no way assist our enemies more effectually
than by making divisions among ourselves; that the honor and success of
the army, and the safety of our bleeding country, depend upon harmony
and good agreement with each other; that the provinces are all united to
oppose the common enemy, and all distinctions sunk in the name of an
American. To make this name honorable, and to preserve the liberty of
our country, ought to be our only emulation; and he will be the best
soldier and the best patriot, who contributes most to this glorious
work, whatever be his station, or from whatever part of the continent he
may come. Let all distinction of nations, countries and provinces,
therefore, be lost in the generous contest, who shall behave with the
most courage against the enemy, and the most kindness and good humor to
each other. If there be any officers or soldiers so lost to virtue and a
love of their country, as to continue in such practices after this
order, the general assures them, and is authorized by Congress to
declare to the whole army, that such persons shall be severely punished,
and dismissed from the service with disgrace.”
The urgency of such a general order is apparent in that early period of
our confederation, when its various parts had not as yet been
sufficiently welded together to acquire a thorough feeling of
nationality; yet what an enduring lesson does it furnish for every stage
of our Union!
We subjoin another of the general orders issued in this time of gloom
and anxiety:
“That the troops may have an opportunity of attending public worship, as
well as to take some rest after the great fatigue they have gone
through, the general, in future, excuses them from fatigue duty on
Sundays, except at the ship yards, or on special occasions, until
further orders. The general is sorry to be informed, that the foolish
and wicked practice of profane cursing and swearing, a vice heretofore
little known in an American army, is growing into fashion. He hopes the
officers will, by example as well as influence, endeavor to check it,
and that both they and the men will reflect, that we can have little
hope of the blessing of Heaven on our arms, if we insult it by our
impiety and folly. Added to this, it is a vice so mean and low, without
any temptation, that every man of sense and character detests and
despises it.”[91]
While Washington thus endeavored to elevate the minds of his soldiery to
the sanctity of the cause in which they were engaged, he kept the most
watchful eye upon the movements of the enemy. Beside their great
superiority in point of numbers as well as discipline, to his own crude
and scanty legions, they possessed a vast advantage in their fleet.
“They would not be half the enemy they are,” observed Colonel Reed, “if
they were once separated from their ships.” Every arrival and departure
of these, therefore, was a subject of speculation and conjecture. Aaron
Burr, at that time in New York, aide-de-camp to General Putnam, speaks
in a letter to an uncle, of thirty transports, which, under convoy of
three frigates, had put to sea on the 7th of August, with the intention
of sailing round Long Island and coming through the Sound, and thus
investing the city by the North and East Rivers. “They are then to land
on both sides of the island,” writes he, “join their forces, and draw a
line across, which will hem us in, and totally cut off all
communication; after which, they will have their own fun.” He adds:
“They hold us in the utmost contempt. Talk of forcing all our lines
without firing a gun. The bayonet is their pride. They have forgot
Bunker’s Hill.”[92]
In this emergency, Washington wrote to General Mercer for 2,000 men from
the flying camp. Colonel Smallwood’s battalion was immediately
furnished, as a part of them. The Convention of the State ordered out
hasty levies of country militia, to form temporary camps on the shore of
the Sound, and on that of the Hudson above King’s Bridge, to annoy the
enemy, should they attempt to land from their ships on either of these
waters. Others were sent to reinforce the posts on Long Island. As Kings
County on Long Island was noted for being a stronghold of the
disaffected, the Convention ordered that, should any of the militia of
that county refuse to serve, they should be disarmed and secured, and
their possessions laid waste.
Many of the yeomen of the country, thus hastily summoned from the
plough, were destitute of arms, in lieu of which they were ordered to
bring with them a shovel, spade, or pickaxe, or a scythe straightened
and fastened to a pole. This rustic array may have provoked the
thoughtless sneers of city scoffers, such as those cited by Graydon; but
it was in truth one of the glorious features of the Revolution, to be
thus aided in its emergencies by “hasty levies of husbandmen.”[93]
By the authority of the New York Convention, Washington had appointed
General George Clinton to the command of the levies on both sides of the
Hudson. He now ordered him to hasten down with them to the fort just
erected on the north side of King’s Bridge; leaving two hundred men
under the command of a brave and alert officer to throw up works at the
pass of Anthony’s Nose, where the main road to Albany crosses that
mountain. Troops of horse also were to be posted by him along the river
to watch the motions of the enemy.
Washington now made the last solemn preparations for the impending
conflict. All suspected persons, whose presence might promote the plans
of the enemy, were removed to a distance. All papers respecting affairs
of State were put up in a large case, to be delivered to Congress. As to
his domestic arrangements, Mrs. Washington had some time previously gone
to Philadelphia, with the intention of returning to Virginia, as there
was no prospect of her being with him any part of the summer, which
threatened to be one of turmoil and danger. The other ladies, wives of
general officers, who used to grace and enliven head-quarters, had all
been sent out of the way of the storm which was lowering over this
devoted city.
Accounts of deserters, and other intelligence, informed Washington, on
the 17th, that a great many of the enemy’s troops had gone on board of
the transports; that three days’ provisions had been cooked, and other
steps taken indicating an intention of leaving Staten Island. Putnam,
also, came up from below with word that at least one fourth of the fleet
had sailed. There were many conjectures at head-quarters as to whither
they were bound, or whether they had not merely shifted their station.
Every thing indicated, however, that affairs were tending to a crisis.
The “hysterical alarms” of the peaceful inhabitants of New York, which
had provoked the soldierlike impatience and satirical sneers of Lee,
inspired different sentiments in the benevolent heart of Washington, and
produced the following letter to the New York Convention:
“When I consider that the city of New York will, in all human
probability, very soon be the scene of a bloody conflict, I cannot but
view the great numbers of women, children, and infirm persons remaining
in it, with the most melancholy concern. When the men-of-war (the Phœnix
and Rose) passed up the river, the shrieks and cries of these poor
creatures, running every way with their children, were truly
distressing, and I fear they will have an unhappy effect upon the ears
and minds of our young and inexperienced soldiery. Can no method be
devised for their removal?”
How vividly does this call to mind the compassionate sensibility of his
younger days, when commanding at Winchester, in Virginia, in time of
public peril; and melted to “deadly sorrow” by the “supplicating tears
of the women, and moving petitions of the men.” As then, he listened to
the prompt suggestions of his own heart; and, without awaiting the
action of the Convention, issued a proclamation, advising the
inhabitants to remove, and requiring the officers and soldiery to aid
the helpless and the indigent. The Convention soon responded to his
appeal, and appointed a committee to effect these purposes in the most
humane and expeditious manner.
A gallant little exploit at this juncture, gave a fillip to the spirits
of the community. Two of the fire-ships recently constructed, went up
the Hudson to attempt the destruction of the ships which had so long
been domineering over its waters. One succeeded in grappling the Phœnix,
and would soon have set her in flames, but in the darkness got to
leeward, and was cast loose without effecting any damage. The other, in
making for the Rose, fell foul of one of the tenders, grappled and burnt
her. The enterprise was conducted with spirit, and though it failed of
its main object, had an important effect. The commanders of the ships
determined to abandon those waters, where their boats were fired upon by
the very yeomanry whenever they attempted to land; and where their ships
were in danger from midnight incendiaries, while riding at anchor.
Taking advantage of a brisk wind, and favoring tide, they made all sail
early on the morning of the 18th of August, and stood down the river,
keeping close under the eastern shore, where they supposed the guns from
Mount Washington could not be brought to bear upon them. Notwithstanding
this precaution, the Phœnix was thrice hulled by shots from the fort,
and one of the tenders once. The Rose, also, was hulled once by a shot
from Burdett’s Ferry. The men on board were kept close, to avoid being
picked off by a party of riflemen posted on the river bank. The ships
fired grape-shot as they passed, but without effecting any injury.
Unfortunately, a passage had been left open in the obstructions on which
General Putnam had calculated so sanguinely; it was to have been closed
in the course of a day or two. Through this they made their way, guided
by a deserter; which alone, in Putnam’s opinion, saved them from being
checked in their career, and utterly destroyed by the batteries.
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND.
The movements of the British fleet, and of the camp on Staten Island,
gave signs of a meditated attack; but, as the nature of that attack was
uncertain, Washington was obliged to retain the greater part of his
troops in the city for its defence, holding them ready, however, to be
transferred to any point in the vicinity. General Mifflin, with about
five hundred of the Pennsylvania troops, of Colonels Shee and Magaw’s
regiments, were at King’s Bridge, ready to aid at a moment’s notice.
“They are the best disciplined of any troops that I have yet seen in the
army,” said General Heath, who had just reviewed them. General George
Clinton was at that post, with about fourteen hundred of his yeomanry of
the Hudson. As the Phœnix and Rose had explored the shores, and taken
the soundings as far as they had gone up the river, General Heath
thought Howe might attempt an attack somewhere above King’s Bridge,
rather than in the face of the many and strong works erected in and
around the city. “Should his inclination lead him this way,” adds be,
“nature has done much for us, and we shall, as fast as possible, and the
strength of art. We are pushing our works with great diligence.”[94]
Reports from different quarters, gave Washington reason to apprehend
that the design of the enemy might be to land part of their force on
Long Island, and endeavor to get possession of the heights of Brooklyn,
which overlooked New York; while another part should land above the
city, as General Heath suggested. Thus, various disconnected points,
distant from each other, and a great extent of intervening country, had
to be defended by raw troops, against a superior force, well
disciplined, and possessed of every facility for operating by land and
water.
General Greene, with a considerable force, was stationed at Brooklyn. He
had acquainted himself with all the localities of the island, from Hell
Gate to the Narrows, and made his plan of defence accordingly. His
troops were diligently occupied in works which he laid out, about a mile
beyond the village of Brooklyn, and facing the interior of the island,
whence a land attack might be attempted.
Brooklyn was immediately opposite to New York. The Sound, commonly
called the East River, in that place about three quarters of a mile in
width, swept its rapid tides between them. The village stood on a kind
of peninsula, formed by the deep inlets of Wallabout Bay on the north,
and Gowanus Cove on the south. A line of intrenchments and strong
redoubts extended across the neck of the peninsula, from the bay to a
swamp and creek emptying into the cove. To protect the rear of the works
from the enemy’s ships, a battery was erected at Red Hook, the
south-west corner of the peninsula, and a fort on Governor’s Island,
nearly opposite.
About two miles and a half in front of the line of intrenchments and
redoubts, a range of hills, densely wooded, extended from south-west to
north-east, forming a natural barrier across the island. It was
traversed by three roads. One, on the left of the works, stretched
eastwardly to Bedford, and then by a pass through the Bedford Hills to
the village of Jamaica; another, central and direct, led through the
woody heights to Flatbush; a third, on the right of the lines, passed by
Gowanus Cove to the Narrows and Gravesend Bay.
The occupation of this range of hills, and the protection of its passes,
had been designed by General Greene; but unfortunately, in the midst of
his arduous toils, he was taken down by a raging fever, which confined
him to his bed; and General Sullivan, just returned from Lake Champlain,
had the temporary command.
Washington saw that to prevent the enemy from landing on Long Island
would be impossible, its great extent affording so many places favorable
for that purpose, and the American works being at the part opposite to
New York. “However,” writes he to the President of Congress, “we shall
attempt to harass them as much as possible, which is all that we can
do.”
On the 21st came a letter, written in all haste by Brigadier-general
William Livingston, of New Jersey. Movements of the enemy on Staten
Island had been seen from his camp. He had sent over a spy at midnight,
who brought back the following intelligence. Twenty thousand men had
embarked to make an attack on Long Island, and up the Hudson. Fifteen
thousand remained on Staten Island, to attack Bergen Point,
Elizabethtown Point, and Amboy. The spy declared that he had heard
orders read, and the conversation of the generals. “They appear very
determined,” added he, “and will put all to the sword!”
Washington sent a copy of the letter to the New York Convention. On the
following morning (August 22d) the enemy appeared to be carrying their
plans into execution. The reports of cannon and musketry were heard from
Long Island, and columns of smoke were descried rising above the groves
and orchards at a distance. The city, as usual, was alarmed, and had
reason to be so; for word soon came that several thousand men, with
artillery and light-horse, were landed at Gravesend; and that Colonel
Hand, stationed there with the Pennsylvania rifle regiment, had
retreated to the lines, setting fire to stacks of wheat, and other
articles, to keep them from falling into the enemy’s hands.
Washington apprehended an attempt of the foe by a forced march, to
surprise the lines at Brooklyn. He immediately sent over a reinforcement
of six battalions. It was all that he could spare, as with the next tide
the ships might bring up the residue of the army, and attack the city.
Five battalions more, however, were ordered to be ready as a
reinforcement, if required. “Be cool, but determined,” was the
exhortation given to the departing troops. “Do not fire at a distance,
but wait the commands of your officers. It is the general’s express
orders, that if any man attempt to skulk, lie down, or retreat without
orders, he be instantly shot down for an example.”
In justice to the poor fellows, most of whom were going for the first
time on a service of life and death, Washington observes, that “they
went off in high spirits,” and that the whole capable of duty evinced
the same cheerfulness.[95]
Nine thousand of the enemy had landed, with forty pieces of cannon. Sir
Henry Clinton had the chief command, and led the first division. His
associate officers were the Earls of Cornwallis and Percy, General
Grant, and General Sir William Erskine. As their boats approached the
shore, Colonel Hand, stationed, as has been said, in the neighborhood
with his rifle regiment, retreated to the chain of wooded hills, and
took post on a height commanding the central road leading from Flatbush.
The enemy having landed without opposition, Lord Cornwallis was detached
with the reserve to Flatbush, while the rest of the army extended itself
from the ferry at the Narrows through Utrecht and Gravesend, to the
village of Flatland.
Lord Cornwallis, with two battalions of light infantry, Colonel Donop’s
corps of Hessians, and six field-pieces, advanced rapidly to seize upon
the central pass through the hills. He found Hand and his riflemen ready
to make a vigorous defence. This brought him to a halt, having been
ordered not to risk an attack should the pass be occupied. He took post
for the night, therefore, in the village of Flatbush.
It was evidently the aim of the enemy to force the lines at Brooklyn,
and get possession of the heights. Should they succeed, New York would
be at their mercy. The panic and distress of the inhabitants went on
increasing. Most of those who could afford it, had already removed to
the country. There was now a new cause of terror. It was rumored that,
should the American army retreat from the city, leave would be given for
any one to set it on fire. The New York Convention apprised Washington
of this rumor. “I can assure you, gentlemen,” writes he in reply, “that
this report is not founded on the least authority from me. On the
contrary, I am so sensible of the value of such a city, and the
consequences of its destruction to many worthy citizens and their
families, that nothing but the last necessity, and that such as would
justify me to the whole world, would induce me to give orders to that
purpose.”
In this time of general alarm, head-quarters were besieged by applicants
for safeguard from the impending danger; and Washington was even beset
in his walks by supplicating women with their children. The patriot’s
heart throbbed feelingly under the soldier’s belt. Nothing could surpass
the patience and benignant sympathy with which he listened to them, and
endeavored to allay their fears. Again he urged the Convention to carry
out their measures for the removal of these defenceless beings. “There
are many,” writes he, “who anxiously wish to remove, but have not the
means.”
On the 24th he crossed over to Brooklyn, to inspect the lines and
reconnoitre the neighborhood. In this visit he felt sensibly the want of
General Greene’s presence, to explain his plans and point out the
localities.
The American advanced posts were in the wooded hills. Colonel Hann, with
his riflemen, kept watch over the central road, and a strong redoubt had
been thrown up in front of the pass, to check any advance of the enemy
from Flatbush. Another road leading from Flatbush to Bedford, by which
the enemy might get round to the left of the works at Brooklyn, was
guarded by two regiments, one under Colonel Williams, posted on the
north side of the ridge, the other by a Pennsylvanian rifle regiment,
under Colonel Miles, posted on the south side. The enemy were stretched
along the country beyond the chain of hills.
As yet, nothing had taken place but skirmishing and irregular firing
between the outposts. It was with deep concern Washington noticed a
prevalent disorder and confusion in the camp. There was a want of system
among the officers, and co-operation among the troops, each corps
seeming to act independently of the rest. Few of the men had any
military experience, except, perchance, in bush-fighting with the
Indians. Unaccustomed to discipline and the restraint of camps, they
sallied forth whenever they pleased, singly or in squads, prowling about
and firing upon the enemy, like hunters after game.
Much of this was no doubt owing to the protracted illness of General
Greene.
On returning to the city, therefore, Washington gave the command on Long
Island to General Putnam, warning him, however, in his letter of
instructions, to summon the officers together and enjoin them to put a
stop to the irregularities which he had observed among the troops. Lines
of defence were to be formed round the encampment, and works on the most
advantageous ground. Guards were to be stationed on the lines, with a
brigadier of the day constantly at hand to see that orders were
executed. Field-officers were to go the rounds and report the situation
of the guards, and no one was to pass beyond the lines without a special
permit in writing. At the same time, partisan and scouting parties,
under proper officers, and with regular license, might sally forth to
harass the enemy, and prevent their carrying off the horses and cattle
of the country people.
Especial attention was called to the wooded hills between the works and
the enemy’s camp. The passes through them were to be secured by
_abatis_, and defended by the best troops, who should, at all hazards,
prevent the approach of the enemy. The militia being the least tutored
and experienced, might man the interior works.
Putnam crossed with alacrity to his post. “He was made happy,” writes
Colonel Reed, “by obtaining leave to go over. The brave old man was
quite miserable at being kept here.”
In the mean time, the enemy were augmenting their forces on the island.
Two brigades of Hessians, under Lieutenant-general De Heister, were
transferred from the camp on Staten Island on the 25th. This movement
did not escape the vigilant eye of Washington. By the aid of his
telescope, he had noticed that from time to time tents were struck on
Staten Island, and portions of the encampment broken up; while ship
after ship weighed anchor, and dropped down to the Narrows.
He now concluded that the enemy were about to make a push with their
main force for the possession of Brooklyn Heights. He accordingly sent
over additional reinforcements, and among them Colonel John Haslet’s
well equipped and well disciplined Delaware regiment; which was joined
to Lord Stirling’s brigade, chiefly composed of Southern troops, and
stationed outside of the lines. These were troops which Washington
regarded with peculiar satisfaction, on account of their soldierlike
appearance and discipline.
On the 26th, he crossed over to Brooklyn, accompanied by Reed, the
adjutant-general. There was much movement among the enemy’s troops, and
their number was evidently augmented. In fact, General De Heister had
reached Flatbush with his Hessians, and taken command of the centre;
whereupon Sir Henry Clinton, with the right wing, drew off to Flatlands,
in a diagonal line to the right of De Heister, while the left wing,
commanded by General Grant, extended to the place of landing on
Gravesend Bay.
Washington remained all day, aiding General Putnam with his counsels,
who, new to the command, had not been able to make himself well
acquainted with the fortified posts beyond the lines. In the evening,
Washington returned to the city, full of anxious thought. A general
attack was evidently at hand. Where would it be made? How would his
inexperienced troops stand the encounter? What would be the defence of
the city if assailed by the ships? It was a night of intense solicitude,
and well might it be; for during that night a plan was carried into
effect, fraught with disaster to the Americans.
The plan to which we allude was concerted by General Howe, the
commander-in-chief. Sir Henry Clinton, with the vanguard, composed of
the choicest troops, was, by a circuitous march in the night, to throw
himself into the road leading from Jamaica to Bedford, seize upon a pass
through the Bedford Hills, within three miles of that village, and thus
turn the left of the American advanced posts. It was preparatory to this
nocturnal march, that Sir Henry during the day had fallen back with his
troops from Flatbush to Flatlands, and caused that stir and movement
which had attracted the notice of Washington.
To divert the attention of the Americans from this stealthy march on
their left, General Grant was to menace their right flank toward
Gravesend before daybreak, and General De Heister to cannonade their
centre, where Colonel Hand was stationed. Neither, however, was to press
an attack until the guns of Sir Henry Clinton should give notice that he
had effected his purpose, and turned the left flank of the Americans;
then the latter were to be assailed at all points with the utmost vigor.
About nine o’clock in the evening, of the 26th, Sir Henry Clinton began
his march from Flatlands with the vanguard, composed of light infantry.
Lord Percy followed with the grenadiers, artillery, and light dragoons,
forming the centre. Lord Cornwallis brought up the rear-guard with the
heavy ordnance. General Howe accompanied this division.
It was a silent march, without beat of drum or sound of trumpet, under
guidance of a Long Island tory, along by-roads traversing a swamp by a
narrow causeway, and so across the country to the Jamaica road. About
two hours before daybreak, they arrived within half a mile of the pass
through the Bedford Hills, and halted to prepare for an attack. At this
juncture they captured an American patrol, and learnt, to their
surprise, that the Bedford pass was unoccupied. In fact, the whole road
beyond Bedford, leading to Jamaica, had been left unguarded, excepting
by some light volunteer troops. Colonels Williams and Miles, who were
stationed to the left of Colonel Hand, among the wooded hills, had been
instructed to send out parties occasionally to patrol the road, but no
troops had been stationed at the Bedford pass. The road and pass may not
have been included in General Greene’s plan of defence, or may have been
thought too far out of the way to need special precaution. The neglect
of them, however, proved fatal.
Sir Henry Clinton immediately detached a battalion of light infantry to
secure the pass; and, advancing with his corps at the first break of
day, possessed himself of the heights. He was now within three miles of
Bedford, and his march had been undiscovered. Having passed the heights,
therefore, he halted his division for the soldiers to take some
refreshment, preparatory to the morning’s hostilities.
There we will leave them, while we note how the other divisions
performed their part of the plan.
About midnight General Grant moved from Gravesend Bay, with the left
wing, composed of two brigades and a regiment of regulars, a battalion
of New York loyalists, and ten field-pieces. He proceeded along the road
leading past the Narrows and Gowanus Cove, toward the right of the
American works. A picket guard of Pennsylvanian and New York militia,
under Colonel Atlee, retired before him fighting to a position on the
skirts of the wooded hills.
In the mean time, scouts had brought in word to the American lines that
the enemy were approaching in force upon the right. General Putnam
instantly ordered Lord Stirling to hasten with the two regiments nearest
at hand, and hold them in check. These were Haslet’s Delaware, and
Smallwood’s Maryland regiments; the latter the _macaronis_, in scarlet
and buff, who had outshone, in camp, their yeoman fellow-soldiers in
homespun. They turned out with great alacrity, and Stirling pushed
forward with them on the road toward the Narrows. By the time he had
passed Gowanus Cove, daylight began to appear. Here, on a rising ground,
he met Colonel Atlee with his Pennsylvania Provincials, and learned that
the enemy were near. Indeed, their front began to appear in the
uncertain twilight. Stirling ordered Atlee to place himself in ambush in
an orchard on the left of the road, and await their coming up, while he
formed the Delaware and Maryland regiments along a ridge from the road,
up to a piece of woods on the top of the hill.
Atlee gave the enemy two or three volleys as they approached, and then
retreated and formed in the wood on Lord Stirling’s left. By this time
his lordship was reinforced by Kichline’s riflemen, part of whom he
placed along a hedge at the foot of the hill, and part in front of the
wood. General Grant threw his light troops in the advance, and posted
them in an orchard and behind hedges, extending in front of the
Americans, and about one hundred and fifty yards distant.
It was now broad daylight. A rattling fire commenced between the British
light troops and the American riflemen, which continued for about two
hours, when the former retired to their main body. In the mean time,
Stirling’s position had been strengthened by the arrival of Captain
Carpenter with two field-pieces. These were placed on the side of the
hill, so as to command the road and the approach for some hundred yards.
General Grant, likewise, brought up his artillery within three hundred
yards, and formed his brigades on opposite hills, about six hundred
yards distant. There was occasional cannonading on both sides, but
neither party sought a general action.
Lord Stirling’s object was merely to hold the enemy in check; and the
instructions of General Grant, as we have shown, were not to press an
attack until aware that Sir Henry Clinton was on the left flank of the
Americans.
During this time, De Heister had commenced his part of the plan by
opening a cannonade from his camp at Flatbush, upon the redoubt, at the
pass of the wooded hills, where Hand and his riflemen were stationed. On
hearing this, General Sullivan, who was within the lines, rode forth to
Colonel Hand’s post to reconnoitre. De Heister, however, according to
the plan of operations, did not advance from Flatbush, but kept up a
brisk fire from his artillery on the redoubt in front of the pass, which
replied as briskly. At the same time, a cannonade from a British ship
upon the battery at Red Hook, contributed to distract the attention of
the Americans.
In the mean time terror reigned in New York. The volleying of musketry
and the booming of cannon at early dawn, had told of the fighting that
had commenced. As the morning advanced, and platoon firing and the
occasional discharge of a field-piece were heard in different
directions, the terror increased. Washington was still in doubt whether
this was but a part of a general attack, in which the city was to be
included. Five ships of the line were endeavoring to beat up the bay.
Were they to cannonade the city, or to land troops above it?
Fortunately, a strong head-wind baffled their efforts; but one vessel of
inferior force got up far enough to open the fire already mentioned upon
the fort at Red Hook.
Seeing no likelihood of an immediate attack upon the city, Washington
hastened over to Brooklyn in his barge, and galloped up to the works. He
arrived there in time to witness the catastrophe for which all the
movements of the enemy had been concerted.
The thundering of artillery in the direction of Bedford, had given
notice that Sir Henry had turned the left of the Americans. De Heister
immediately ordered Colonel Count Donop to advance with his Hessian
regiment, and storm the redoubt, while he followed with his whole
division. Sullivan did not remain to defend the redoubt. Sir Henry’s
cannon had apprised him of the fatal truth, that his flank was turned,
and he in danger of being surrounded. He ordered a retreat to the lines,
but it was already too late. Scarce had he descended from the height,
and emerged into the plain, when he was met by the British light
infantry, and dragoons, and driven back into the woods. By this time De
Heister and his Hessians had come up, and now commenced a scene of
confusion, consternation, and slaughter, in which the troops under
Williams and Miles were involved. Hemmed in and entrapped between the
British and Hessians, and driven from one to the other, the Americans
fought for a time bravely, or rather desperately. Some were cut down and
trampled by the cavalry, others bayoneted without mercy by the Hessians.
Some rallied in groups, and made a brief stand with their rifles from
rocks or behind trees. The whole pass was a scene of carnage, resounding
with the clash of arms, the tramp of horses, the volleying of fire-arms
and the cries of the combatants, with now and then the dreary braying of
the trumpet. We give the words of one who mingled in the fight, and whom
we have heard speak with horror of the sanguinary fury with which the
Hessians plied the bayonet. At length some of the Americans, by a
desperate effort, cut their way through the host of foes, and effected a
retreat to the lines, fighting as they went. Others took refuge among
the woods and fastnesses of the hills, but a great part were either
killed or taken prisoners. Among the latter was General Sullivan.
Washington, as we have observed, arrived in time to witness this
catastrophe, but was unable to prevent it. He had heard the din of the
battle in the woods, and seen the smoke rising from among the trees; but
a deep column of the enemy was descending from the hills on the left;
his choicest troops were all in action, and he had none but militia to
man the works. His solicitude was now awakened for the safety of Lord
Stirling and his corps, who had been all the morning exchanging
cannonades with General Grant. The forbearance of the latter in not
advancing, though so superior in force, had been misinterpreted by the
Americans. According to Colonel Haslet’s statement, the Delawares and
Marylanders, drawn up on the side of the hill, “stood upwards of four
hours, with a firm and determined countenance, in close array, their
colors flying, the enemy’s artillery playing on them all the while, _not
daring to advance and attack them_, though six times their number, and
nearly surrounding them.”[96]
Washington saw the danger to which these brave fellows were exposed,
though they could not. Stationed on a hill within the lines, he
commanded, with his telescope, a view of the whole field, and saw the
enemy’s reserve, under Cornwallis, marching down by a cross-road to get
in their rear, and thus place them between two fires. With breathless
anxiety he watched the result.
The sound of Sir Henry Clinton’s cannon apprised Stirling that the enemy
was between him and the lines. General Grant, too, aware that the time
had come for earnest action, was closing up, and had already taken
Colonel Atlee prisoner. His lordship now thought to effect a circuitous
retreat to the lines, by crossing the creek which empties into Gowanus
Cove, near what was called the Yellow Mills. There was a bridge and
mill-dam, and the creek might be forded at low water, but no time was to
be lost, for the tide was rising.
Leaving part of his men to keep face toward General Grant, Stirling
advanced with the rest to pass the creek, but was suddenly checked by
the appearance of Cornwallis and his grenadiers.
Washington, and some of his officers on the hill, who watched every
movement, had supposed that Stirling and his troops, finding the case
desperate, would surrender in a body, without firing. On the contrary,
his lordship boldly attacked Cornwallis with half of Smallwood’s
battalion, while the rest of his troops retreated across the creek.
Washington wrung his hands in agony at the sight. “Good God!” cried he,
“what brave fellows I must this day lose!”[97]
It was, indeed, a desperate fight; and now Smallwood’s _macaronis_
showed their game spirit. They were repeatedly broken, but as often
rallied, and renewed the fight. “We were on the point of driving Lord
Cornwallis from his station,” writes Lord Stirling, “but large
reinforcements arriving, rendered it impossible to do more than provide
for safety.”
“Being thus surrounded, and no probability of a reinforcement,” writes a
Maryland officer, “his lordship ordered me to retreat with the remaining
part of our men, and force our way to our camp. We soon fell in with a
party of the enemy, who clubbed their firelocks, and waved their hats to
us as if they meant to surrender as prisoners; but on our advancing
within sixty yards, they presented their pieces and fired, which we
returned with so much warmth that they soon quitted their post, and
retired to a large body that was lying in ambuscade.”[98]
The enemy rallied, and returned to the combat with additional force.
Only five companies of Smallwood’s battalion were now in action. There
was a warm and close engagement for nearly ten minutes. The struggle
became desperate on the part of the Americans. Broken and disordered,
they rallied in a piece of woods, and made a second attack. They were
again overpowered with numbers. Some were surrounded and bayoneted in a
field of Indian corn; others joined their comrades who were retreating
across the marsh. Lord Stirling had encouraged and animated his young
soldiers by his voice and example, but when all was lost, he sought out
General De Heister, and surrendered himself as his prisoner.
More than two hundred and fifty brave fellows, most of them of
Smallwood’s regiment, perished in this deadly struggle, within sight of
the lines of Brooklyn. That part of the Delaware troops who had first
crossed the creek and swamp, made good their retreat to the lines with a
trifling loss, and entered the camp covered with mud and drenched with
water, but bringing with them twenty-three prisoners, and their standard
tattered by grape-shot.
The enemy now concentrated their forces within a few hundred yards of
the redoubts. The grenadiers were within musket shot. Washington
expected they would storm the works, and prepared for a desperate
defence. The discharge of a cannon and volleys of musketry from the part
of the lines nearest to them, seemed to bring them to a pause.
It was, in truth, the forbearance of the British commander that
prevented a bloody conflict. His troops, heated with action and flushed
with success, were eager to storm the works; but he was unwilling to
risk the loss of life that must attend an assault, when the object might
be attained at a cheaper rate, by regular approaches. Checking the ardor
of his men, therefore, though with some difficulty, he drew them off to
a hollow way, in front of the lines, but out of reach of the musketry,
and encamped there for the night.[99]
The loss of the Americans in this disastrous battle has been variously
stated, but is thought in killed, wounded and prisoners, to have been
nearly two thousand; a large number, considering that not above five
thousand were engaged. The enemy acknowledged a loss of 380 killed and
wounded.[100]
The success of the enemy was attributed, in some measure, to the doubt
in which Washington was kept as to the nature of the intended attack,
and at what point it would chiefly be made. This obliged him to keep a
great part of his forces in New York, and to distribute those at
Brooklyn over a wide extent of country, and at widely distant places. In
fact, he knew not the superior number of the enemy encamped on Long
Island, a majority of them having been furtively landed in the night,
some days after the debarkation of the first division.
Much of the day’s disaster has been attributed, also, to a confusion in
the command, caused by the illness of General Greene. Putnam, who had
supplied his place in the emergency after the enemy had landed, had not
time to make himself acquainted with the post, and the surrounding
country. Sullivan, though in his letters he professes to have considered
himself subordinate to General Putnam within the lines, seems still to
have exercised somewhat of an independent command, and to have acted at
his own discretion: while Lord Stirling was said to have command of all
the troops outside of the works.
The fatal error, however, and one probably arising from all these
causes, consisted in leaving the passes through the wooded hills too
weakly fortified and guarded; and especially in neglecting the eastern
road, by which Sir Henry Clinton got in the rear of the advanced troops,
cut them off from the lines, and subjected them to a cross fire of his
own men and De Heister’s Hessians.
This able and fatal scheme of the enemy might have been thwarted, had
the army been provided with a few troops of light-horse, to serve as
videttes. With these to scour the roads and bring intelligence, the
night march of Sir Henry Clinton, so decisive of the fortunes of the
day, could hardly have failed to be discovered and reported. The
Connecticut horsemen, therefore, ridiculed by the Southerners for their
homely equipments, sneered at as useless, and dismissed for standing on
their dignity and privileges as troopers, might, if retained, have saved
the army from being surprised and severed, its advanced guards routed,
and those very Southern troops cut up, captured, and almost annihilated.
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE RETREAT FROM LONG ISLAND
The night after the battle was a weary, yet almost sleepless one to the
Americans. Fatigued, dispirited, many of them sick and wounded, yet they
were, for the most part, without tent or other shelter. To Washington it
was a night of anxious vigil. Every thing boded a close and deadly
conflict. The enemy had pitched a number of tents about a mile distant.
Their sentries were but a quarter of a mile off, and close to the
American sentries. At four o’clock in the morning, Washington went the
round of the works, to see that all was right, and to speak words of
encouragement. The morning broke lowering and dreary. Large encampments
were gradually descried; to appearance, the enemy were twenty thousand
strong. As the day advanced, their ordnance began to play upon the
works. They were proceeding to intrench themselves, but were driven into
their tents by a drenching rain.
Early in the morning General Mifflin arrived in camp, with part of the
troops which had been stationed at Fort Washington and King’s Bridge. He
brought with him Shee’s prime Philadelphia regiment, and Magaw’s
Pennsylvania regiment, both well disciplined and officered, and
accustomed to act together. They were so much reduced in number,
however, by sickness, that they did not amount in the whole, to more
than eight hundred men. With Mifflin came also Colonel Glover’s
Massachusetts regiment, composed chiefly of Marblehead fishermen and
sailors, hardy, adroit, and weather-proof; trimly clad in blue jackets
and trowsers. The detachment numbered, in the whole, about thirteen
hundred men, all fresh and full of spirits. Every eye brightened as they
marched briskly along the line with alert step and cheery aspect. They
were posted at the left extremity of the intrenchments towards the
Wallabout.
There were skirmishes throughout the day, between the riflemen on the
advanced posts and the British “irregulars,” which at times were quite
severe; but no decided attack was attempted. The main body of the enemy
kept within their tents until the latter part of the day; when they
began to break ground at about five hundred yards distance from the
works, as if preparing to carry them by regular approaches.
On the 29th, there was a dense fog over the island, that wrapped every
thing in mystery. In the course of the morning, General Mifflin, with
Adjutant-general Reed, and Colonel Grayson of Virginia, one of
Washington’s aides-de-camp, rode to the western outposts, in the
neighborhood of Red Hook. While they were there, a light breeze lifted
the fog from a part of the New York Bay, and revealed the British ships
at their anchorage opposite Staten Island. There appeared to be an
unusual bustle among them. Boats were passing to and from the admiral’s
ship, as if seeking or carrying orders. Some movement was apparently in
agitation. The idea occurred to the reconnoitring party that the fleet
was preparing, should the wind hold and the fog clear away, to come up
the bay at the turn of the tide, silence the feeble batteries at Red
Hook and the city, and anchor in the East River. In that case the army
on Long Island would be completely surrounded and entrapped.
Alarmed at this perilous probability, they spurred back to
head-quarters, to urge the immediate withdrawal of the army. As this
might not be acceptable advice, Reed, emboldened by his intimacy with
the commander-in-chief, undertook to give it. Washington instantly
summoned a council of war. The difficulty was already apparent, of
guarding such extensive works with troops fatigued and dispirited, and
exposed to the inclemencies of the weather. Other dangers now presented
themselves. Their communication with New York might be cut off by the
fleet from below. Other ships had passed round Long Island, and were at
Flushing Bay on the Sound. These might land troops on the east side of
Harlem River, and make themselves masters of King’s Bridge; that key of
Manhattan Island. Taking all these things into consideration, it was
resolved to cross with the troops to the city that very night.
Never did retreat require greater secrecy and circumspection. Nine
thousand men, with all the munitions of war, were to be withdrawn from
before a victorious army, encamped so near, that every stroke of spade
and pickaxe from their trenches could be heard. The retreating troops,
moreover, were to be embarked and conveyed across a strait three
quarters of a mile wide, swept by rapid tides. The least alarm of their
movement would bring the enemy upon them, and produce a terrible scene
of confusion and carnage at the place of embarkation.
Washington made the preparatory arrangements with great alertness, yet
profound secrecy. Verbal orders were sent to Colonel Hughes, who acted
as quartermaster-general, to impress all water craft, large and small,
from Spyt den Duivel on the Hudson round to Hell Gate on the Sound, and
have them on the east side of the city by evening. The order was issued
at noon, and so promptly executed, that, although some of the vessels
had to be brought a distance of fifteen miles, they were all at Brooklyn
at eight o’clock in the evening, and put under the management of Colonel
Glover’s amphibious Marblehead regiment.
To prepare the army for a general movement without betraying the object,
orders were issued for the troops to hold themselves in readiness for a
night attack upon the enemy. The orders caused surprise, for the poor
fellows were exhausted, and their arms rendered nearly useless by the
rain; all, however, prepared to obey; but several made nuncupative
wills; as is customary among soldiers on the eve of sudden and deadly
peril.
According to Washington’s plan of retreat, to keep the enemy from
discovering the withdrawal of the Americans until their main body should
have embarked in the boats and pushed off from the shore, General
Mifflin was to remain at the lines with his Pennsylvania troops, and the
gallant remains of Haslet, Smallwood and Hand’s regiments, with guards
posted and sentinels alert, as if nothing extraordinary was taking
place; when the main embarkation was effected, they were themselves to
move off quietly, march briskly to the ferry, and embark. In case of any
alarm that might disconcert the arrangements, Brooklyn church was to be
the rallying place, whither all should repair, so as unitedly to resist
any attack.
It was late in the evening when the troops began to retire from the
breastworks. As one regiment quietly withdrew from their station on
guard, the troops on the right and left moved up and filled the vacancy.
There was a stifled murmur in the camp, unavoidable in a movement of the
kind; but it gradually died away in the direction of the river, as the
main body moved on in silence and order. The youthful Hamilton, whose
military merits had won the favor of General Greene, and who had lost
his baggage and a field-piece in the battle, brought up the rear of the
retreating party. In the dead of the night, and in the midst of this
hushed and anxious movement, a cannon went off with a tremendous roar.
“The effect,” says an American who was present, “was at once alarming
and sublime. If the explosion was within our lines, the gun was probably
discharged in the act of spiking it, and could have been no less a
matter of speculation to the enemy than to ourselves.”[101]
“What with the greatness of the stake, the darkness of the night, the
uncertainty of the design, and the extreme hazard of the issue,” adds
the same writer, “it would be difficult to conceive a more deeply solemn
and interesting scene.”
The meaning of this midnight gun was never ascertained; fortunately,
though it startled the Americans, it failed to rouse the British camp.
In the mean time the embarkation went on with all possible despatch,
under the vigilant eye of Washington, who stationed himself at the
ferry, superintending every movement. In his anxiety for despatch, he
sent back Colonel Scammel, one of his aides-de-camp, to hasten forward
all the troops that were on the march. Scammel blundered in executing
his errand, and gave the order to Mifflin likewise. The general
instantly called in his pickets and sentinels, and set off for the
ferry.
By this time the tide had turned; there was a strong wind from the
north-east; the boats with oars were insufficient to convey the troops;
those with sails could not make headway against wind and tide. There was
some confusion at the ferry, and in the midst of it, General Mifflin
came down with the whole covering party; adding to the embarrassment and
uproar.
“Good God! General Mifflin!” cried Washington, “I am afraid you have
ruined us by so unseasonably withdrawing the troops from the lines.”
“I did so by your order,” replied Mifflin with some warmth. “It cannot
be!” exclaimed Washington. “By G—, I did!” was the blunt rejoinder. “Did
Scammel act as aide-de-camp for the day, or did he not?” “He did.”
“Then,” said Mifflin, “I had orders through him.” “It is a dreadful
mistake,” rejoined Washington, “and unless the troops can regain the
lines before their absence is discovered by the enemy, the most
disastrous consequences are to be apprehended.”
Mifflin led back his men to the lines, which had been completely
deserted for three quarters of an hour. Fortunately, the dense fog had
prevented the enemy from discovering that they were unoccupied. The men
resumed their former posts, and remained at them until called off to
cross the ferry. “Whoever has seen troops in a similar situation,”
writes General Heath, “or duly contemplates the human heart in such
trials, will know how to appreciate the conduct of these brave men on
this occasion.”
The fog which prevailed all this time, seemed almost providential. While
it hung over Long Island, and concealed the movements of the Americans,
the atmosphere was clear on the New York side of the river. The adverse
wind, too, died away, the river became so smooth that the row-boats
could be laden almost to the gunwale; and a favoring breeze sprang up
for the sail-boats. The whole embarkation of troops, artillery,
ammunition, provisions, cattle, horses and carts, was happily effected,
and by daybreak the greater part had safely reached the city, thanks to
the aid of Glover’s Marblehead men. Scarce any thing was abandoned to
the enemy, excepting a few heavy pieces of artillery. At a proper time,
Mifflin with his covering party left the lines, and effected a silent
retreat to the ferry. Washington, though repeatedly entreated, refused
to enter a boat until all the troops were embarked; and crossed the
river with the last.
A Long Island tradition tells how the British camp became aware of the
march which had been stolen upon it.[102] Near the ferry, resided a Mrs.
Rapelye, whose husband, suspected of favoring the enemy, had been
removed to the interior of New Jersey. On seeing the embarkation of the
first detachment, she, out of loyalty or revenge, sent off a black
servant to inform the first British officer he could find, of what was
going on. The negro succeeded in passing the American sentinels, but
arrived at a Hessian outpost, where he could not make himself
understood, and was put under guard as a suspicious person. There he was
kept until daybreak, when an officer visiting the post, examined him,
and was astounded by his story. An alarm was given, the troops were
called to arms; Captain Montresor, aide-de-camp of General Howe,
followed by a handful of men, climbed cautiously over the crest of the
works and found them deserted. Advanced parties were hurried down to the
ferry. The fog had cleared away, sufficiently for them to see the rear
boats of the retreating army half way across the river. One boat, still
within musket shot, was compelled to return; it was manned by three
vagabonds, who had lingered behind to plunder.
This extraordinary retreat, which, in its silence and celerity, equalled
the midnight fortifying of Bunker’s Hill, was one of the most signal
achievements of the war, and redounded greatly to the reputation of
Washington, who, we are told, for forty-eight hours preceding the safe
extricating of his army from their perilous situation, scarce closed his
eyes, and was the greater part of the time on horseback. Many, however,
who considered the variety of risks and dangers which surrounded the
camp, and the apparently fortuitous circumstances which averted them
all, were disposed to attribute the safe retreat of the patriot army to
a peculiar Providence.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
LONG ISLAND IN POSSESSION OF THE ENEMY—DISTRESSED SITUATION OF THE
AMERICAN ARMY AT NEW YORK—QUESTION OF ABANDONING THE CITY—LETTERS FROM
EITHER CAMP—ENEMY’S SHIPS IN THE SOUND—REMOVAL OF WOMEN AND CHILDREN
FROM THE CITY—YEARNING FOR HOME AMONG THE MILITIA—TOLERANT IDEAS OF
WASHINGTON AND GREENE—FORT CONSTITUTION—CONFERENCE OF LORD HOWE WITH A
COMMITTEE FROM CONGRESS.
The enemy had now possession of Long Island. British and Hessian troops
garrisoned the works at Brooklyn, or were distributed at Bushwick,
Newtown, Hell Gate and Flushing. Admiral Howe came up with the main body
of the fleet, and anchored close to Governor’s Island, within cannon
shot of the city.
“Our situation is truly distressing,” writes Washington to the President
of Congress, on the 2d of September. “The check our detachment sustained
on the 27th ultimo, has dispirited too great a proportion of our troops,
and filled their minds with apprehension and despair. The militia,
instead of calling forth their utmost efforts to a brave and manly
opposition in order to repair our losses, are dismayed, intractable, and
impatient to return. Great numbers of them have gone off; in some
instances almost by whole regiments, by half ones, and by companies, at
a time. * * * * With the deepest concern, I am obliged to confess my
want of confidence in the generality of the troops. * * * Our number of
men at present fit for duty is under twenty thousand. I have ordered
General Mercer to send the men intended for the flying camp to this
place, about a thousand in number, and to try with the militia, if
practicable, to make a diversion upon Staten Island. Till of late, I had
no doubt in my own mind of defending this place; nor should I have yet,
if the men would do their duty, but this I despair of.
“If we should be obliged to abandon the town, ought it to stand as
winter quarters for the enemy? They would derive great conveniences from
it, on the one hand, and much property would be destroyed on the other.
It is an important question, but will admit of but little time for
deliberation. At present, I dare say the enemy mean to preserve it if
they can. If Congress, therefore, should resolve upon the destruction of
it, the resolution should be a profound secret, as the knowledge will
make a capital change in their plans.”
Colonel Reed, writing on the same day to his wife, says, “I have only
time to say I am alive and well; as to spirits, but middling. * * * * My
country will, I trust, yet be free, whatever may be our fate who are
cooped up, or are in danger of so being, on this tongue of land, where
we ought never to have been.”[103]
We turn to cite letters of the very same date from British officers on
Long Island, full of rumors and surmises. “I have just heard,” writes an
English field-officer, “there has been a most dreadful fray in the town
of New York. The New Englanders insisted on setting the town on fire and
retreating. This was opposed by the New Yorkers, who were joined by the
Pennsylvanians, and a battle has been the consequence, in which many
have lost their lives. By the steps our general is taking, I imagine he
will effectually cut off their retreat at King’s Bridge, by which the
island of New York is joined to the continent.”
An English officer of the guards, writing from camp on the same day,
varies the rumor. The Pennsylvanians, according to his version, joined
with the New Englanders in the project to set fire to the town; both had
a battle with the New Yorkers on the subject, and then withdrew
themselves from the city—which, “with other favorable circumstances,”
gave the latter writer a lively “hope that this distressful business
would soon be brought to a happy issue.”
Another letter gives a different version. “In the night of the 2d
instant, three persons escaped from the city in a canoe and informed our
general that Mr. Washington had ordered three battalions of New York
Provincials to leave New York, and that they should be replaced by an
equal number of Connecticut troops; but the former, assured that the
Connecticutians would burn and destroy all the houses, peremptorily
refused to give up their city, declaring that no cause of exigency
whatever should induce them to intrust the defence of it to any other
than her own inhabitants. This spirited and stubborn resolution
prevailed over the order of their commander, and the New Yorkers
continue snugly in possession of the place.”[104]
“Matters go on swimmingly,” writes another officer. “I don’t doubt the
next news we send you, is, that New York is ours, though in ashes, for
the rebel troops have vowed to put it in flames if the tory troops get
over.”
An American officer writes to an absent New Yorker, in a different tone.
“I fear we shall evacuate your poor city. The very thought gives me the
horrors!” Still he indulges a vague hope of succor from General Lee, who
was returning, all glorious, from his successes at the South. “General
Lee,” writes he, “is hourly expected, as if from heaven,—with a legion
of flaming swordsmen.” It was, however, what Lee himself would have
termed a mere _brutum fulmen_.
These letters show the state of feeling in the opposite camps, at this
watchful moment, when matters seemed hurrying to a crisis.
On the night of Monday (Sept. 2d), a forty gun ship, taking advantage of
a favorable wind and tide, passed between Governor’s Island and Long
Island, swept unharmed by the batteries which opened upon her, and
anchored in Turtle Bay, above the city. In the morning, Washington
dispatched Major Crane of the artillery, with two twelve-pounders and a
howitzer to annoy her from the New York shore. They hulled her several
times, and obliged her to take shelter behind Blackwell’s Island.
Several other ships of war, with transports and store-ships, had made
their appearance in the upper part of the Sound, having gone round Long
Island.
As the city might speedily be attacked, Washington caused all the sick
and wounded to be conveyed to Orangetown, in the Jerseys, and such
military stores and baggage as were not immediately needed, to be
removed, as fast as conveyances could be procured, to a post partially
fortified at Dobbs’ Ferry, on the eastern bank of the Hudson, about
twenty-two miles above the city.
Reed, in his letters to his wife, talks of the dark and mysterious
motions of the enemy, and the equally dark and intricate councils of
Congress, by which the army were disheartened and perplexed. “We are
still here,” writes he on the 6th, “in a posture somewhat awkward; we
think (at least I do) that we cannot stay, and yet we do not know how to
go, so that we may be properly said to be between hawk and buzzard.”
The “shameful and scandalous desertions,” as Washington termed them,
continued. In a few days the Connecticut militia dwindled down from six
to less than two thousand. “The impulse for going home was so
irresistible,” writes he, “that it answered no purpose to oppose it.
Though I would not discharge them, I have been obliged to acquiesce.”
Still his considerate mind was tolerant of their defection. “Men,” said
he, “accustomed to unbounded freedom, cannot brook the restraint which
is indispensably necessary to the good order and government of an army.”
And again, “Men just dragged from the tender scenes of domestic life,
unaccustomed to the din of arms, totally unacquainted with every kind of
military skill (which is followed by a want of confidence in themselves,
when opposed to troops regularly trained, superior in knowledge, and
superior in arms), are timid and ready to fly from their own shadows.
Besides, the sudden change in their manner of living, brings on an
unconquerable desire to return to their homes.”
Greene, also, who coincided so much with Washington in opinions and
sentiments, observes: “People coming from home with all the tender
feelings of domestic life, are not sufficiently fortified with natural
courage to stand the shocking scenes of war. To march over dead men, to
hear without concern the groans of the wounded—I say few men can stand
such scenes unless steeled by habit or fortified by military pride.”
Nor was this ill-timed yearning for home confined to the yeomanry of
Connecticut, who might well look back to their humble farms, where they
had left the plough standing in the furrow, and where every thing might
go to ruin, and their family to want, in their absence. Some of the
gentlemen volunteers from beyond the Delaware, who had made themselves
merry at the expense of the rustic soldiery of New England, were
likewise among the first to feel the homeward impulse. “When I look
around,” said Reed, the adjutant-general, “and see how few of the
numbers who talked so loudly of death and honor are around me, I am lost
in wonder and surprise. Some of our Philadelphia gentlemen who came over
on visits, upon the first cannon, went off in a most violent hurry. Your
noisy sons of liberty, are, I find, the quietest on the field.”[105]
Present experience induced Washington to reiterate the opinion he had
repeatedly expressed to Congress, that little reliance was to be placed
on militia enlisted for short periods. The only means of protecting the
national liberties from great hazard, if not utter loss, was, he said,
an army enlisted for the war.
The thousand men ordered from the flying camp were furnished by General
Mercer. They were Maryland troops under Colonels Griffith and
Richardson, and were a seasonable addition to his effective forces; but
the ammunition carried off by the disbanding militia, was a serious loss
at this critical juncture.
A work had been commenced on the Jersey shore, opposite Fort Washington,
to aid in protecting Putnam’s chevaux-de-frise which had been sunk
between them. This work had received the name of Fort Constitution (a
name already borne by one of the forts in the Highlands.) Troops were
drawn from the flying camp to make a strong encampment in the vicinity
of the fort, with an able officer to command it and a skilful engineer
to strengthen the works. It was hoped, by the co-operation of these
opposite forts and the chevaux-de-frise, to command the Hudson, and
prevent the passing and repassing of hostile ships.
The British, in the mean time, forbore to press further hostilities.
Lord Howe was really desirous of a peaceful adjustment of the strife
between the colonies and the mother country, and supposed this a
propitious moment for a new attempt at pacification. He accordingly sent
off General Sullivan on parole, charged with an overture to Congress. In
this he declared himself empowered and disposed to compromise the
dispute between Great Britain and America, on the most favorable terms,
and though he could not treat with Congress as a legally organized body,
he was desirous of a conference with some of its members. These, for the
time, he should consider only as private gentlemen, but if in the
conference any probable scheme of accommodation should be agreed upon,
the authority of Congress would after wards be acknowledged, to render
the compact complete.[106]
The message caused some embarrassment in Congress. To accede to the
interview might seem to waive the question of independence; to decline
it was to shut the door on all hope of conciliation, and might alienate
the co-operation of some worthy whigs who still clung to that hope.
After much debate, Congress, on the 5th September, replied, that, being
the representatives of the free and independent States of America, they
could not send any members to confer with his lordship in their private
characters, but that, ever desirous of establishing peace on reasonable
terms, they would send a committee of their body to ascertain what
authority he had to treat with persons authorized by Congress, and what
propositions he had to offer.
A committee was chosen on the 6th of September, composed of John Adams,
Edward Rutledge, and Doctor Franklin. The latter, in the preceding year,
during his residence in England, had become acquainted with Lord Howe,
at the house of his lordship’s sister, the Honorable Mrs. Howe, and they
had held frequent conversations on the subject of American affairs, in
the course of which, his lordship had intimated the possibility of his
being sent commissioner to settle the differences in America.
Franklin had recently adverted to this in a letter to Lord Howe. “Your
lordship may possibly remember the tears of joy that wet my cheek, when,
at your good sister’s in London, you gave me expectations that a
reconciliation might soon take place. I had the misfortune to find those
expectations disappointed.
* * * * *
“The well-founded esteem, and, permit me to say, affection, which I
shall always have for your lordship, makes it painful for me to see you
engaged in conducting a war, the great ground of which, as expressed in
your letter, is ’the necessity of preventing the American trade from
passing into foreign channels.’ * * * I know your great motive in coming
hither, was the hope of being instrumental in a reconciliation; and I
believe that when you find _that_ impossible on any terms given to you
to propose, you will relinquish so odious a command, and return to a
more honorable private station.”
“I can have no difficulty to acknowledge,” replied Lord Howe, “that the
powers I am invested with were never calculated to negotiate a reunion
with America, under any other description than as subject to the crown
of Great Britain. But I do esteem these powers competent, not only to
confer and negotiate with any gentlemen of influence in the colonies
upon the terms, but also to effect a lasting peace and reunion between
the two countries, were the tempers of the colonies such as professed in
the last petition of Congress to the king.”[107]
A hope of the kind lingered in the breast of his lordship when he sought
the proposed conference. It was to take place on the 11th, at a house on
Staten Island, opposite to Amboy; at which latter place the veteran
Mercer was stationed with his flying camp. At Amboy, the committee found
Lord Howe’s barge waiting to receive them; with a British officer of
rank, who was to remain within the American lines during their absence,
as a hostage. This guarantee of safety was promptly declined, and the
parties crossed together to Staten Island. The admiral met them on their
landing, and conducted them through his guards to his house.
On opening the conference, his lordship again intimated that he could
not treat with them as a committee of Congress, but only confer with
them as private gentlemen of influence in the colonies, on the means of
restoring peace between the two countries.
The commissioners replied that, as their business was to hear, he might
consider them in what light he pleased; but that they should consider
themselves in no other character than that in which they were placed by
order of Congress.
Lord Howe then entered into a discourse of considerable length, but made
no explicit proposition of peace, nor promise of redress of grievances,
excepting on condition that the colonies should return to their
allegiance.
This, the commissioners replied, was not now to be expected. Their
repeated humble petitions to the king and parliament having been treated
with contempt, and answered by additional injuries, and war having been
declared against them, the colonies had declared their independence, and
it was not in the power of Congress to agree for them that they should
return to their former dependent state.[108]
His lordship expressed his sorrow that no accommodation was likely to
take place; and, on breaking up the conference, assured his old friend,
Dr. Franklin, that he should suffer great pain in being obliged to
distress those for whom he had so much regard.
“I feel thankful to your lordship for your regard,” replied Franklin
good-humoredly; “the Americans, on their part, will endeavor to lessen
the pain you may feel, by taking good care of themselves.”
The result of this conference had a beneficial effect. It showed that
his lordship had no power but what was given by the act of Parliament;
and put an end to the popular notion that he was vested with secret
powers to negotiate an adjustment of grievances.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
MOVEMENTS OF THE ENEMY—COUNCILS OF WAR—QUESTION OF THE ABANDONMENT OF
THE CITY—DISTRIBUTION OF THE ARMY—SHIPS IN THE EAST RIVER—THE ENEMY AT
HELL GATE—SKIRMISH AT TURTLE BAY—PANIC OF THE CONNECTICUT MILITIA—RAGE
AND PERSONAL PERIL OF WASHINGTON—PUTNAM’S PERILOUS RETREAT FROM THE
CITY—BRITISH REGALE AT MURRAY HILL.
Since the retreat from Brooklyn, Washington had narrowly watched the
movements of the enemy to discover their further plans. Their whole
force, excepting about four thousand men, had been transferred from
Staten to Long Island. A great part was encamped on the peninsula
between Newtown Inlet and Flushing Bay. A battery had been thrown up
near the extremity of the peninsula, to check an American battery at
Horen’s Hook opposite, and to command the mouth of Harlem River. Troops
were subsequently stationed on the islands about Hell Gate. “It is
evident,” writes Washington, “the enemy mean to enclose us on the island
of New York, by taking post in our rear, while the shipping secures the
front, and thus, by cutting off our communication with the country,
oblige us to fight them on their own terms, or surrender at discretion;
or by a brilliant stroke endeavor to cut this army in pieces, and secure
the collection of arms and stores, which, they well know, we shall not
be able soon to replace.”[109]
The question was, how could their plans be most successfully opposed? On
every side, he saw a choice of difficulties; every measure was to be
formed with some apprehension that all the troops would not do their
duty. History, experience, the opinions of able friends in Europe, the
fears of the enemy, even the declarations of Congress, all concurred in
demonstrating that the war on the American side should be defensive; a
war of posts; that, on all occasions, a general action should be
avoided, and nothing put at risk unnecessarily. “With these views,” said
Washington, “and being fully persuaded that it would be presumption to
draw out our young troops into open ground against their superiors, both
in number and discipline, I have never spared the spade and pickaxe.”
In a council of war, held on the 7th of September, the question was
discussed, whether the city should be defended or evacuated. All
admitted that it would not be tenable, should it be cannonaded and
bombarded. Several of the council, among whom was General Putnam, were
for a total and immediate removal from the city; urging that one part of
the army might be cut off before the other could support it; the
extremities being at least sixteen miles apart, and the whole, when
collected, being inferior to the enemy. By removing, they would deprive
the enemy of the advantage of their ships; they would keep them at bay;
put nothing at hazard; keep the army together to be recruited another
year, and preserve the unspent stores and the heavy artillery.
Washington himself inclined to this opinion. Others, however, were
unwilling to abandon a place which had been fortified with great cost
and labor, and seemed defensible, and which, by some, had been
considered the key to the northern country; it might dispirit the
troops, and enfeeble the cause. General Mercer, who was prevented by
illness from attending the council, communicated his opinion by letter.
“We should keep New York if possible,” said he, “as the acquiring of it
will give eclat to the arms of Great Britain, afford the soldiers good
quarters, and furnish a safe harbor for the fleet.”
General Greene, also, being still unwell, conveyed his opinion in a
letter to Washington, dated Sept. 5th. He advised that the army should
abandon both city and island, and post itself at King’s Bridge and along
the Westchester shore. That there was no object to be obtained by
holding any position below King’s Bridge. The enemy might throw troops
on Manhattan Island, from their camps on Long Island, and their ships on
the Hudson, and form an intrenched line across it, between the city and
the middle division of the army, and support the two flanks of the line
by their shipping. In such case, it would be necessary to fight them on
disadvantageous terms or submit.
The city and island, he observed, were objects not to be put in
competition with the general interests of America. Two thirds of the
city and suburbs belonged to tories, there was no great reason,
therefore, to run any considerable risk in its defence. The honor and
interest of America required a general and speedy retreat. But as the
enemy, once in possession, could never be dislodged without a superior
naval force; as the place would furnish them with excellent winter
quarters and barrack room, and an abundant market, he advised to burn
both city and suburbs before retreating.[110]
Well might the poor, harassed citizens feel hysterical, threatened as
they were by sea and land, and their very defenders debating the policy
of burning their houses over their heads. Fortunately for them, Congress
had expressly forbidden that any harm should be done to New York,
trusting, that though the enemy might occupy it for a time, it would
ultimately be regained.
After much discussion a middle course was adopted. Putnam, with five
thousand men, was to be stationed in the city. Heath, with nine
thousand, was to keep guard on the upper part of the island, and oppose
any attempt of the enemy to land. His troops, among whom were Magaw’s,
Shee’s, Hand’s, and Miles’s Pennsylvanian battalions, and Haslet’s
Delaware regiment, were posted about King’s Bridge and its vicinity.
The third division, composed principally of militia, was under the
command of Generals Greene and Spencer, the former of whom, however, was
still unwell. It was stationed about the centre of the island, chiefly
along Turtle Bay and Kip’s Bay, where strong works had been thrown up,
to guard against any landing of troops from the ships or from the
encampments on Long Island. It was also to hold itself ready to support
either of the other divisions. Washington himself had his head-quarters
at a short distance from the city. A resolution of Congress, passed the
10th of September, left the occupation or abandonment of the city
entirely at Washington’s discretion. Nearly the whole of his officers,
too, in a second council of war, retracted their former opinion, and
determined that the removal of his army was not only prudent, but
absolutely necessary. Three members of the council, however, Generals
Spencer, Heath, and George Clinton, tenaciously held to the former
decision.
Convinced of the propriety of evacuation, Washington prepared for it by
ordering the removal of all stores, excepting such as were indispensable
for the subsistence of the troops while they remained. A letter from a
Rhode Island officer, on a visit to New York, gives an idea of its
agitations. “On the 13th of September, just after dinner, three frigates
and a forty gun ship sailed up the East River with a gentle breeze,
toward Hell Gate, and kept up an incessant fire, assisted by the cannon
at Governor’s Island. The batteries of the city returned the ships the
like salutation. Three men agape, idle spectators, had the misfortune of
being killed by one cannon ball. One shot struck within six feet of
General Washington, as he was on horseback, riding into the fort.”[111]
On the 14th, Washington’s baggage was removed to King’s Bridge, whither
head-quarters were to be transferred the same evening; it being clear
that the enemy were preparing to encompass him on the island. “It is now
a trial of skill whether they will or not,” writes Colonel Reed, “and
every night we lie down with the most anxious fears for the fate of
to-morrow.”[112]
About sunset of the same day, six more ships, two of them men-of-war,
passed up the Sound and joined those above. Within half an hour came
expresses spurring to head-quarters, one from Mifflin at King’s Bridge,
the other from Colonel Sargent at Horen’s Hook. Three or four thousand
of the enemy were crossing at Hell Gate to the islands at the mouth of
Harlem River, where numbers were already encamped. An immediate landing
at Harlem, or Morrisania, was apprehended. Washington was instantly in
the saddle, spurring to Harlem Heights. The night, however, passed away
quietly. In the morning the enemy commenced operations. Three ships of
war stood up the Hudson, “causing a most tremendous firing, assisted by
the cannons of Governor’s Island, which firing was returned from the
city as well as the scarcity of heavy cannon would allow.”[113] The
ships anchored opposite Bloomingdale, a few miles above the city, and
put a stop to the removal by water of stores and provisions to Dobbs’
Ferry. About eleven o’clock, the ships in the East River commenced a
heavy cannonade upon the breastworks between Turtle Bay and the city. At
the same time two divisions of the troops encamped on Long Island, one
British, under Sir Henry Clinton, the other Hessian, under Colonel
Donop, emerged in boats from the deep, woody recesses of Newtown Inlet,
and under cover of the fire from the ships, began to land at two points
between Turtle and Kip’s Bays. The breastworks were manned by militia
who had recently served at Brooklyn. Disheartened by their late defeat,
they fled at the first advance of the enemy. Two brigades of Putnam’s
Connecticut troops (Parsons’ and Fellows’) which had been sent that
morning to support them, caught the panic, and regardless of the
commands and entreaties of their officers, joined in the general
scamper.
At this moment Washington, who had mounted his horse at the first sound
of the cannonade, came galloping to the scene of confusion; riding in
among the fugitives, he endeavored to rally and restore them to order.
All in vain. At the first appearance of sixty or seventy red coats, they
broke again without firing a shot, and fled in headlong terror. Losing
all self-command at the sight of such dastardly conduct, he dashed his
hat upon the ground in a transport of rage. “Are these the men,”
exclaimed he, “with whom I am to defend America!” In a paroxysm of
passion and despair he snapped his pistols at some of them, threatened
others with his sword, and was so heedless of his own danger, that he
might have fallen into the hands of the enemy, who were not eighty yards
distant, had not an aide-de-camp seized the bridle of his horse, and
absolutely hurried him away.[114]
It was one of the rare moments of his life, when the vehement element of
his nature was stirred up from its deep recesses. He soon recovered his
self-possession, and took measures against the general peril. The enemy
might land another force about Hell Gate, seize upon Harlem Heights, the
strong central portion of the island, cut off all retreat of the lower
divisions, and effectually sever his army. In all haste, therefore, he
sent off an express to the forces encamped above, directing them to
secure that position immediately; while another express to Putnam,
ordered an immediate retreat from the city to those heights.
It was indeed a perilous moment. Had the enemy followed up their
advantage, and seized upon the heights, before thus occupied; or had
they extended themselves across the island, from the place where they
had effected a landing, the result might have been most disastrous to
the Americans. Fortunately, they contented themselves for the present
with sending a strong detachment down the road along the East River,
leading to the city, while the main body, British and Hessians, rested
on their arms.
In the mean time, Putnam, on receiving Washington’s express, called in
his pickets and guards, and abandoned the city in all haste, leaving
behind him a large quantity of provisions and military stores, and most
of the heavy cannon. To avoid the enemy he took the Bloomingdale road,
though this exposed him to be raked by the enemy’s ships anchored in the
Hudson. It was a forced march, on a sultry day, under a burning sun and
amid clouds of dust. His army was encumbered with women and children and
all kinds of baggage. Many were overcome by fatigue and thirst, some
perished by hastily drinking cold water; but Putnam rode backward and
forward, hurrying every one on.
Colonel Humphreys, at that time a volunteer in his division, writes: “I
had frequent opportunities that day of beholding him, for the purpose of
issuing orders and encouraging the troops, flying on his horse covered
with foam, wherever his presence was most necessary. Without his
extraordinary exertions, the guards must have been inevitably lost, and
it is probable the entire corps would have been cut in pieces.
“When we were not far from Bloomingdale, an aide-de-camp came to him at
full speed, to inform him that a column of British infantry was
descending upon our right. Our rear was soon fired upon, and the colonel
of our regiment, whose order was just communicated for the front to file
off to the left, was killed upon the spot. With no other loss, we joined
the army after dark upon the heights of Harlem.”[115]
Tradition gives a circumstance which favored Putnam’s retreat. The
British generals, in passing by Murray Hill, the country residence of a
patriot of that name who was of the Society of Friends, made a halt to
seek some refreshment. The proprietor of the house was absent; but his
wife set cake and wine before them in abundance. So grateful were these
refreshments in the heat of the day, that they lingered over their wine,
quaffing and laughing, and bantering their patriotic hostess about the
ludicrous panic and discomfiture of her countrymen. In the mean time,
before they were roused from their regale, Putnam and his forces had
nearly passed by, within a mile of them. All the loss sustained by him
in his perilous retreat, was fifteen killed, and about three hundred
taken prisoners. It became, adds the tradition, a common saying among
the American officers, that Mrs. Murray saved Putnam’s division of the
army.[116]
CHAPTER XXXV.
FORTIFIED CAMP AT KING’S BRIDGE—AMERICAN AND BRITISH LINES—THE MORRIS
HOUSE—ALEXANDER HAMILTON—THE ENEMY ADVANCE—SUCCESSFUL SKIRMISH—DEATH OF
KNOWLTON—GREAT FIRE IN NEW YORK—REORGANIZATION OF THE ARMY—EXCHANGE OF
PRISONERS—DANIEL MORGAN REGAINED—DE LANCEY’S TORY BRIGADE—ROBERT ROGERS,
THE PARTISAN—HIS RANGERS—THE ROEBUCK, PHŒNIX, AND TARTAR IN THE
HUDSON—MILITARY MOVEMENTS BY LAND AND WATER—LETTER OF JOHN JAY.
The fortified camp, where the main body of the army was now assembled,
was upon that neck of land several miles long, and for the most part not
above a mile wide, which forms the upper part of Manhattan or New York
Island. It forms a chain of rocky heights, and is separated from the
mainland by Harlem River, a narrow strait, extending from Hell Gate on
the Sound, to Spyt den Duivel, a creek or inlet of the Hudson. Fort
Washington occupied the crest of one of the rocky heights above
mentioned, overlooking the Hudson, and about two miles north of it was
King’s Bridge, crossing Spyt den Duivel Creek, and forming at that time
the only pass from Manhattan Island to the mainland.
About a mile and a half south of the fort, a double row of lines
extended across the neck from Harlem River to the Hudson. They faced
south towards New York, were about a quarter of a mile apart, and were
defended by batteries.
There were strong advanced posts, about two miles south of the outer
line; one on the left of Harlem, commanded by General Spencer, the other
on the right, at what was called McGowan’s Pass, commanded by General
Putnam. About a mile and a half beyond these posts the British lines
extended across the island from Horen’s Hook to the Hudson, being a
continuous encampment, two miles in length, with both flanks covered by
shipping. An open plain intervened between the hostile camps.
Washington had established his head-quarters about a quarter of a mile
within the inner line; at a country-seat, the owners of which were
absent. It belonged in fact to Colonel Roger Morris, his early companion
in arms in Braddock’s campaign, and his successful competitor for the
hand of Miss Mary Philipse. Morris had remained in America, enjoying the
wealth he had acquired by his marriage; but had adhered to the royal
party, and was a member of the council of the colony. It is said that at
this time he was residing in the Highlands at Beverley, the seat of his
brother-in-law, Washington’s old friend, Beverley Robinson.[117]
While thus posted, Washington was incessantly occupied in fortifying the
approaches to his camp by redoubts, _abatis_, and deep intrenchments.
“Here,” said he, “I should hope the enemy, in case of attack, would meet
a defeat, if the generality of our troops would behave with tolerable
bravery; but experience, to my extreme affliction, has convinced me that
it is rather to be wished than expected. However, I trust there are many
who will act like men worthy of the blessings of freedom.” The late
disgraceful scene at Kip’s Bay was evidently rankling in his mind.
In the course of his rounds of inspection, he was struck with the skill
and science displayed in the construction of some of the works, which
were thrown up under the direction of a youthful captain of artillery.
It proved to be the same young officer, Alexander Hamilton, whom Greene
had recommended to his notice. After some conversation with him,
Washington invited him to his marquee, and thus commenced that
intercourse which has indissolubly linked their memories together.
On the morning of the 16th, word was brought to head-quarters that the
enemy were advancing in three large columns. There had been so many
false reports, that Reed, the adjutant-general, obtained leave to sally
out and ascertain the truth. Washington himself soon mounted his horse
and rode towards the advanced posts. On arriving there he heard a brisk
firing. It was kept up for a time with great spirit. There was evidently
a sharp conflict. At length Reed came galloping back with information. A
strong detachment of the enemy had attacked the most advanced post,
which was situated on a hill skirted by a wood. It had been bravely
defended by Lieutenant-colonel Knowlton, Putnam’s favorite officer, who
had distinguished himself at Bunker’s Hill; he had under him a party of
Connecticut rangers, volunteers from different regiments. After
skirmishing for a time, the party had been overpowered by numbers and
driven in, and the outpost was taken possession of by the enemy. Reed
supposed the latter to be about three hundred strong, but they were much
stronger, the main part having been concealed behind a rising ground in
the wood. They were composed of a battalion of light infantry, another
of Royal Highlanders, and three companies of Hessian riflemen; all under
the command of General Leslie.
Reed urged that troops should be sent to support the brave fellows who
had behaved so well. While he was talking with Washington, “the enemy,”
he says, “appeared in open view, and sounded their bugles in the most
insulting manner, as usual after a fox-chase. I never,” adds he, “felt
such a sensation before; it seemed to crown our disgrace.”
Washington, too, was stung by the taunting note of derision; it recalled
the easy triumph of the enemy at Kip’s Bay. Resolved that something
should be done to wipe out that disgrace, and rouse the spirits of the
army, he ordered out three companies from Colonel Weedon’s regiment just
arrived from Virginia, and sent them under Major Leitch, to join
Knowlton’s rangers. The troops thus united were to get in the rear of
the enemy, while a feigned attack was made upon them in front.
The plan was partially successful. As the force advanced to make the
false attack, the enemy ran down the hill, and took what they considered
an advantageous position behind some fences and bushes which skirted it.
A firing commenced between them and the advancing party, but at too
great distance to do much harm on either side. In the mean time,
Knowlton and Leitch, ignorant of this change in the enemy’s position,
having made a circuit, came upon them in flank instead of in rear. They
were sharply received. A vivid contest took place, in which Connecticut
vied with Virginia in bravery. In a little while Major Leitch received
three bullets in his side, and was borne off the field. Shortly
afterward, a wound in the head from a musket ball, brought Knowlton to
the ground. Colonel Reed placed him on his horse, and conveyed him to a
distant redoubt. The men, undismayed by the fall of their leaders,
fought with unflinching resolution under the command of their captains.
The enemy were reinforced by a battalion of Hessians and a company of
chasseurs. Washington likewise sent reinforcements of New England and
Maryland troops. The action waxed hotter and hotter; the enemy were
driven from the wood into the plain and pushed for some distance; the
Americans were pursuing them with ardor, when Washington, having
effected the object of this casual encounter, and being unwilling to
risk a general action, ordered a retreat to be sounded.
It was with difficulty, however, his men could be called off, so excited
were they by the novelty of pursuing an enemy. They retired in good
order; and, as it subsequently appeared, in good season, for the main
body of the enemy were advancing at a rapid rate, and might have
effectually reversed the scene.
Colonel Knowlton did not long survive the action. “When gasping in the
agonies of death,” says Colonel Reed, “all his inquiry was whether he
had driven in the enemy.” He was anxious for the tarnished honor of
Connecticut. He had the dying satisfaction of knowing that his men had
behaved bravely, and driven the enemy in an open field-fight. So closed
his gallant career.
The encounter thus detailed was a small affair in itself, but important
in its effects. It was the first gleam of success in the campaign, and
revived the spirits of the army. Washington sought to turn it to the
greatest advantage. In his general orders, he skilfully distributed
praise and censure. The troops under Leitch were thanked for being the
first to advance upon the enemy; and the New England troops for
gallantly supporting them, and their conduct was honorably contrasted
with that of the recreant troops at Kip’s Bay. Of Knowlton, who had
fallen while gloriously fighting, he spoke as “one who would have done
honor to any country.”
The name of Leitch was given by him for the next day’s parole. That
brave officer died of his wounds on the 1st of October, soothed in his
last moments by that recompense so dear to a soldier’s heart, the
encomium of a beloved commander.
In the dead of the night, on the 20th September, a great light was
beheld by the picket guards, looming up from behind the hills in the
direction of the city. It continued throughout the night, and was at
times so strong that the heavens in that direction appeared to them,
they said, as if in flames. At daybreak huge columns of smoke were still
rising. It was evident there had been a great conflagration in New York.
In the course of the morning Captain Montresor, aide-de-camp to General
Howe, came out with a flag, bearing a letter to Washington on the
subject of an exchange of prisoners. According to Montresor’s account a
great part of the city had been burnt down, and as the night was
extremely windy, the whole might have been so, but for the exertions of
the officers and men of the British army. He implied it to be the act of
American incendiaries, several of whom, he informed Colonel Reed, had
been caught in the fact and instantly shot. General Howe, in his private
correspondence, makes the same assertion, and says they were detected,
and killed on the spot by the enraged troops in garrison.
Enraged troops, with weapons in their hands, are not apt, in a time of
confusion and alarm, to be correct judges of fact, or dispensers of
justice. The act was always disclaimed by the Americans, and it is
certain their commanders knew nothing bout it. We have shown that the
destruction of the city was at one time discussed in a council of war as
a measure of policy, but never adopted, and was expressly forbidden by
Congress.
The enemy were now bringing up their heavy cannon, preparatory to an
attack upon the American camp by the troops and by the ships. What was
the state of Washington’s army? The terms of engagement of many of his
men would soon be at an end, most of them would terminate with the year,
nor did Congress hold out offers to encourage re-enlistments. “We are
now, as it were, upon the eve of another dissolution of the army,”
writes he, “and unless some speedy and effectual measures are adopted by
Congress, our cause will be lost.” Under these gloomy apprehensions, he
borrowed, as he said, “a few moments from the hours allotted to sleep,”
and on the night of the 24th of September, penned an admirable letter to
the President of Congress, setting forth the total inefficiency of the
existing military system, the total insubordination, waste, confusion,
and discontent produced by it among the men, and the harassing cares and
vexations to which it subjected the commanders. Nor did he content
himself with complaining, but, in his full, clear, and sagacious manner,
pointed out the remedies. To the achievements of his indefatigable pen,
we may trace the most fortunate turns in the current of our
revolutionary affairs. In the present instance his representations,
illustrated by sad experience, produced at length a reorganization of
the army, and the establishment of it on a permanent footing. It was
decreed that eighty-eight battalions should be furnished in quotas, by
the different States, according to their abilities. The pay of the
officers was raised. The troops which engaged to serve throughout the
war were to receive a bounty of twenty dollars and one hundred acres of
land, besides a yearly suit of clothes while in service. Those who
enlisted for but three years, received no bounty in land. The bounty to
officers was on a higher ratio. The States were to send commissioners to
the army, to arrange with the commander-in-chief as to the appointment
of officers in their quotas; but, as they might occasionally be slow in
complying with this regulation, Washington was empowered to fill up all
vacancies.
All this was a great relief to his mind. He was gratified, also, by
effecting, after a long correspondence with the British commander, an
exchange of prisoners, in which those captured in Canada were included.
Among those restored to the service were Lord Stirling and Captain
Daniel Morgan. The latter, in reward of his good conduct in the
expedition with Arnold, and of “his intrepid behavior in the assault
upon Quebec where the brave Montgomery fell,” was recommended to
Congress by Washington for the command of a rifle regiment about to be
raised. We shall see how eminently he proved himself worthy of this
recommendation.
About this time information was received that the enemy were enlisting
great numbers of the loyalists of Long Island, and collecting large
quantities of stock for their support. Oliver De Lancey, a leading
loyalist of New York, member of a wealthy family of honorable Huguenot
descent, was a prime agent in the matter. He had recently been appointed
brigadier-general in the royal service, and authorized by General Howe
to raise a brigade of provincials; and was actually at Jamaica, on Long
Island, offering commissions of captain, lieutenant and ensign, to any
respectable person who should raise a company of seventy men; the latter
to receive British pay.
A descent upon Long Island, to counteract these projects, was concerted
by General George Clinton of New York, an General Lincoln of
Massachusetts, but men and water craft were wanting to carry it into
effect, and the “tory enlistments continued.” They were not confined to
Long Island, but prevailed more or less on Staten Island, in the
Jerseys, up the Hudson as far as Dutchess County, and in Westchester
County more especially. Many of the loyalists, it must be acknowledged,
were honorable men, conscientiously engaged in the service of their
sovereign, and anxious to put down what they sincerely regarded as an
unjustifiable rebellion; and among these may be clearly classed the De
Lanceys. There were others, however, of a different stamp, the most
notorious of whom, at this juncture, was one Robert Rogers of New
Hampshire. He had been a worthy comrade of Putnam and Stark, in some of
their early enterprises during the French war, and had made himself
famous as major of a partisan corps called Rogers’ Rangers. Governor
Trumbull described him as a “famous scouter and wood-hunter, skilled in
waylaying, ambuscade, and sudden attack.” His feats of arms had
evidently somewhat of the Indian character. He had since been Governor
of Michilimackinac (1766), and accused of a plot to plunder his own fort
and join the French. At the outbreak of the Revolution he played a
skulking, equivocal part, and appeared ready to join either party. In
1775, Washington had received notice that he was in Canada, in the
service of Carleton, and had been as a spy, disguised as an Indian,
through the American camp at St. Johns.
Recently, on learning that he was prowling about the country under
suspicious circumstances, Washington had caused him to be arrested. On
examination, he declared that he was on his way to offer his secret
services to Congress. He was accordingly sent on to that body, in
custody of an officer. Congress liberated him on his pledging himself in
writing, “on the honor of a gentleman,” not to bear arms against the
American United Colonies in any manner whatever, during the contest with
Great Britain.
Scarcely was he liberated when he forfeited his parole, offered his
services to the enemy, received a colonel’s commission, and was now
actually raising a tory corps to be called the Queen’s Rangers. All such
as should bring recruits to his standard were promised commissions,
portions of rebel lands, and privileges equal to any of his majesty’s
troops.
Of all Americans of note enlisted under the royal standard, this man had
rendered himself the most odious. He was stigmatized as an arrant
renegade, a perfect Judas Iscariot; and his daring, adventurous spirit
and habits of Indian warfare rendered him a formidable enemy.
Nothing perplexed Washington at this juncture more than the conduct of
the enemy. He beheld before him a hostile army, armed and equipped at
all points, superior in numbers, thoroughly disciplined, flushed with
success, and abounding in the means of pushing a vigorous campaign, yet
suffering day after day to elapse unimproved. What could be the reason
of this supineness on the part of Sir William Howe? He must know the
depressed and disorganized state of the American camp; the absolute
chaos that reigned there. Did he meditate an irruption into the Jerseys?
A movement towards Philadelphia? Did he intend to detach a part of his
forces for a winter’s campaign against the South?
In this uncertainty, Washington wrote to General Mercer, of the flying
camp, to keep a vigilant watch from the Jersey shore on the movements of
the enemy, by sea and land, and to station videttes on the Neversink
Heights, to give immediate intelligence should any of the British fleet
put to sea. At the same time he himself practised unceasing vigilance,
visiting the different parts of his camp on horseback. Occasionally he
crossed over to Fort Constitution, on the Jersey shore, of which General
Greene had charge, and, accompanied by him, extended his reconnoitrings
down to Paulus Hook, to observe what was going on in the city and among
the enemy’s ships. Greene had recently been promoted to the rank of
major-general, and now had command of all the troops in the Jerseys. He
had liberty to shift his quarters to Baskingridge or Bergen, as
circumstances might require; but was enjoined to keep up a communication
with the main army, east of the Hudson, so as to secure a retreat in
case of necessity.
The security of the Hudson was at this time an object of great
solicitude with Congress, and much reliance was placed on Putnam’s
obstructions at Fort Washington. Four galleys, mounted with heavy guns
and swivels, were stationed at the chevaux-de-frise, and two new ships
were at hand, which, filled with stones, were to be sunk where they
would block up the channel. A sloop was also at anchor, having on board
a machine, invented by a Mr. Bushnell, for submarine explosion, with
which to blow up the men-of-war; a favorite scheme with General Putnam.
The obstructions were so commanded by batteries on each shore, that it
was thought no hostile ship would be able to pass.
On the 9th of October, however, the Roebuck and Phœnix, each of
forty-four guns, and the Tartar of twenty guns, which had been lying for
some time opposite Bloomingdale, got under way with their three tenders,
at eight o’clock in the morning, and came standing up the river with an
easy southern breeze. At their approach, the galleys and the two ships
intended to be sunk, got under way with all haste, as did a schooner
laden with rum, sugar, and other supplies for the American army, and the
sloop with Bushnell’s submarine machine.
The Roebuck, Phœnix and Tartar, broke through the vaunted barriers as
through a cobweb. Seven batteries kept up a constant fire upon them, yet
a gentleman was observed walking the deck of the second ship as coolly
as if nothing were the matter.[118] Washington, indeed, in a letter to
Schuyler, says “they passed without any kind of damage or interruption;”
but Lord Howe reports to the admiralty that they suffered much in their
masts and rigging, and that a lieutenant, two midshipmen, and six men
were killed, and eighteen wounded.
The hostile ships kept on their course, the American vessels scudding
before them. The schooner was overhauled and captured; a well-aimed shot
sent the sloop and Bushnell’s submarine engine to the bottom of the
river. The two new ships would have taken refuge in Spyt den Duivel
Creek, but fearing there might not be water enough, they kept on and
drove ashore at Philips’ Mills at Yonkers. Two of the galleys got into a
place of safety, where they were protected from the shore; the other two
trusted to outsail their pursuers. The breeze freshened, and the
frigates gained on them fast; at 11 o’clock began to fire on them with
their bow-chasers, and at 12 o’clock overreached them, which caused them
to bear in shore; at half past one the galleys ran aground just above
Dobbs’ Ferry, and lay exposed to a shower of grape-shot. The crews,
without stopping to burn or bilge them, swam on shore, and the enemy
took possession of the two galleys, which were likely to be formidable
means of annoyance in their hands.
One express after another brought Washington word of these occurrences.
First, he sent off a party of rifle and artillery men, with two
twelve-pounders, to secure the new ships which had run aground at
Yonkers. Next, he ordered Colonel Sargent to march up along the eastern
shore with five hundred infantry, a troop of light-horse, and a
detachment of artillery, to prevent the landing of the enemy. Before the
troops arrived at Dobbs’ Ferry the ships’ boats had plundered a store
there, and set it on fire.
To prevent, if possible, the men-of-war already up the river from coming
down, or others from below joining them, Washington gave orders to
complete the obstructions. Two hulks which lay in Spyt den Duivel Creek,
were hastily ballasted by men from General Heath’s division, and men
were sent up to get off the ships which had run aground at Philips’
Mills, that they might be brought down and sunk immediately.
It is difficult to give an idea of the excitement caused by this new
irruption of hostile ships into the waters of the Hudson, or of the
various conjectures as to their object. They might intend merely to
interrupt navigation, and prevent supplies from coming down to the
American army. They might be carrying arms and ammunition for domestic
enemies skulking about the river, and only waiting an opportunity to
strike a blow. They might have troops concealed on board with intent to
surprise the posts in the Highlands, and cut off the intercourse between
the American armies. To such a degree had the spirit of disaffection
been increased in the counties adjacent to the river, since the descent
of the Rose and Phœnix, by the retreats and evacuation which had taken
place; and so great had been the drain on the militia of those counties
for the army of Washington, that, in case of insurrection, those who
remained at home and were well-affected, would be outnumbered, and might
easily be overpowered, especially with the aid of troops landed from
ships.
While this agitation prevailed below, fugitive river crafts carried the
news up to the Highlands that the frigates were already before Tarrytown
in the Tappan Sea. Word was instantly despatched to Peter R. Livingston,
president of the Provincial Congress, and startled that deliberative
body, which was then seated at Fishkill just above the Highlands. The
committee of safety wrote, on the spur of the moment, to Washington.
“Nothing,” say they, “can be more alarming than the present situation of
our State. We are daily getting the most authentic intelligence of
bodies of men enlisted and armed in order to assist the enemy. We much
fear that they, co-operating with the enemy, may seize such passes as
will cut off the communication between the army and us, and prevent your
supplies. * * * * We beg leave to suggest to your Excellency the
propriety of sending a body of men to the Highlands or Peekskill, to
secure the passes, prevent insurrection, and overawe the disaffected.”
Washington transmitted the letter to the President of Congress on the
12th. “I have ordered up,” writes he, “part of the militia from
Massachusetts, under General Lincoln, to prevent, if possible, the
consequences which they suggest may happen, and which there is reason to
believe the conspirators have in contemplation. I am persuaded that they
are on the eve of breaking out, and that they will leave nothing
unessayed that will distress us, and favor the designs of the enemy, as
soon as their schemes are ripe for it.” In fact, it was said that the
tories were arming and collecting in the Highlands under the direction
of disguised officers, to aid the conspiracies formed by Governor Tryon
and his adherents.
As a further precaution, an express was sent off by Washington to
Colonel Tash, who, with a regiment of New Hampshire militia, was on his
way from Hartford to the camp, ordering him to repair with all possible
dispatch to Fishkill, and there hold himself at the disposition of the
committee of safety.
James Clinton, also, who had charge of the posts in the Highlands, was
put on the alert. That trusty officer was now a brigadier-general,
having been promoted by Congress, on the 8th of August. He was charged
to have all boats passing up and down the river rigidly searched, and
the passengers examined. Beside the usual sentries, a barge, well
manned, was to patrol the river opposite to each fort every night; all
barges, row-boats, and other small craft, between the forts in the
Highlands and the army, were to be secured in a place of safety, to
prevent their falling into the enemy’s hands and giving intelligence.
Moreover, a French engineer was sent up to aid in strengthening and
securing the passes. The commanding officers of the counties of
Litchfield and Fairfield in Connecticut, had, likewise, orders to hold
their militia in readiness to render assistance in case of insurrections
in the State of New York.
So perilous appeared the condition of affairs to residents up the river,
that John Jay, a member of the New York Convention, and one of the
secret committee for the defence of the Hudson, applied for leave of
absence, that he might remove his aged parents to a place of safety. A
letter from him to Edward Rutledge, of the Board of War, contains this
remarkable sentence: “I wish our army well stationed in the Highlands,
and all the lower country desolated; we might then bid defiance to all
the further efforts of the enemy in that quarter.”
Nor was this a random or despairing wish. It shows a brave spirit of a
leading civilian of the day, and the sacrifices that true patriots were
disposed to make in the cause of independence.
But a few days previously he had held the following language to
Gouverneur Morris, chairman of a special committee: “Had I been vested
with absolute power in this State, I have often said, and still think,
that I would last spring have desolated all _Long Island_, _Staten
Island_, the city and county of _New York_, and all that part of the
county of _Westchester_ which lies below the mountains. I would then
have stationed the main body of the army in the mountains on the east,
and eight or ten thousand men in the Highlands on the west side of the
river. I would have directed the river at _Fort Montgomery_, which is
nearly at the southern extremity of the mountains, to be so shallowed as
to afford only depth sufficient for an _Albany_ sloop, and all the
southern passes and defiles in the mountains to be strongly fortified.
Nor do I think the shallowing of the river a romantic scheme. Rocky
mountains rise immediately from the shores. The breadth is not very
great, though the depth is. But what cannot eight or ten thousand men,
well worked, effect? According to this plan of defence the State would
be absolutely impregnable against all the world, on the seaside, and
would have nothing to fear except from the way of the lake. Should the
enemy gain the river, even below the mountains, I think I foresee that a
retreat would become necessary, and I can’t forbear wishing that a
desire of saving a few acres may not lead us into difficulties.”[119]
Three days after this remarkable letter was written, the enemy’s ships
did gain the river; and two days afterwards, October 11th, Reed, the
adjutant-general, the confidant of Washington’s councils, writes to his
wife from Harlem Heights: “My most sanguine views do not extend further
than keeping our ground here till this campaign closes. If the enemy
incline to press us, it is resolved to risk an engagement, for, if we
cannot fight them on this ground, we can on none in America. The ships
are the only circumstances unfavorable to us here.”
On the same day that this letter was written, a small vessel,
sloop-rigged, with a topsail, was descried from Mount Washington, coming
down the river with a fresh breeze. It was suspected by those on the
look-out to be one of the British tenders, and they gave it a shot from
a twelve-pounder. Their aim was unfortunately too true. Three of the
crew were killed and the captain wounded. It proved to be Washington’s
yacht, which had run up the river previously to the enemy’s ships, and
was now on its return.[120]
CHAPTER XXXVI.
LEE EXPECTED IN CAMP—HIS LETTER OF ADVICE TO THE PRESIDENT OF
CONGRESS—THE ENEMY AT THROG’S NECK—WASHINGTON’S ARRANGEMENTS—RIDES TO
THROG’S NECK—THE ENEMY BROUGHT TO A STAND—MILITARY MOVEMENTS—ARRIVAL OF
LEE—A COMMAND ASSIGNED TO HIM—CRITICISES THE CONDUCT OF CONGRESS AND THE
ARMY—COUNCIL OF WAR—THE ARMY TO MOVE TO THE MAINLAND—FORT WASHINGTON TO
BE KEPT UP.
“If General Lee should be in Philadelphia,” writes John Jay to Rutledge,
“pray hasten his departure—he is much wanted at New York.” The successes
of Lee at the South were contrasted by many with the defeat on Long
Island, and evacuation of New York, and they began to consider him the
main hope of the army. Hazard, the postmaster, writing from Harlem
Heights to General Gates on the 11th, laments it as a misfortune that
Lee should have been to the southward for several months past, but adds
cheeringly, “he is expected here to-day.”
Joseph Trumbull, the commissary-general, also writes to Gates under the
same date: “General Lee is to be here this evening. He left Philadelphia
on the 8th.”
Lee, the object of so many hopes, was actually in the Jerseys, on his
way to the camp. He writes from Amboy on the 12th, to the President of
Congress, informing him, that the Hessians, encamped opposite on Staten
Island, had disappeared on the preceding night, quitting the island
entirely, and some great measure was believed to be in agitation. “I am
confident,” writes he, “they will not attack General Washington’s lines;
such a measure is too absurd for a man of Mr. Howe’s genius; and unless
they have received flattering accounts from Burgoyne, that he will be
able to effectuate a junction (which I conceive they have not), they
will no longer remain kicking their heels at New York. They will put the
place in a respectable state of defence, which, with their command of
the waters, may be easily done, leave four or five thousand men, and
direct their operations to a more decisive object. They will infallibly
proceed either immediately up the river Delaware with their whole
troops, or, what is more probable, land somewhere about South Amboy or
Shrewsbury, and march straight to Trenton or Burlington. On the
supposition that this will be the case, what are we to do? What force
have we? What means have we to prevent their possessing themselves of
Philadelphia? General Washington’s army cannot possibly keep pace with
them. The length of his route is not only infinitely greater, but his
obstructions almost insuperable. In short, before he could cross Hudson
River, they might be lodged and strongly fortified on both banks of the
Delaware, * * For Heaven’s sake, arouse yourselves! For Heaven’s sake
let ten thousand men be immediately assembled, and stationed somewhere
about Trenton. In my opinion, your whole depends upon it. I set out
immediately for head-quarters, where I shall communicate my apprehension
that such will be the next operation of the enemy, and urge the
expediency of sparing a part of his army (if he has any to spare) for
this object.”[121]
On the very morning that Lee was writing this letter at Amboy,
Washington received intelligence by express from General Heath,
stationed above King’s Bridge, that the enemy were landing with
artillery on Throg’s Neck[122] in the Sound, about nine miles from the
camp. Washington surmised that Howe was pursuing his original plan of
getting into the rear of the American army, cutting off its supplies,
which were chiefly derived from the East, and interrupting its
communication with the main country. Officers were ordered to their
alarm posts, and the troops to be ready, under arms, to act as occasion
might require. Word, at the same time, was sent to General Heath to
dispose of the troops on his side of King’s Bridge, and of two militia
regiments posted on the banks of Harlem River opposite the camp, in such
manner as he should think necessary.
Having made all his arrangements as promptly as possible, Washington
mounted his horse, and rode over towards Throg’s Neck to reconnoitre.
Throg’s Neck is a peninsula in Westchester County, stretching upwards of
two miles into the Sound. It was separated from the mainland by a narrow
creek and a marsh, and was surrounded by water every high tide. A bridge
across a creek connecting with a ruined causeway across the marsh, led
to the mainland, and the upper end of the creek was fordable at low
water. Early in the morning, eighty or ninety boats full of men had
stood up the Sound from Montresor’s Island, and Long Island, and had
landed troops to the number of four thousand on Throg’s Point, the
extremity of the neck. Thence their advance pushed forward toward the
causeway and bridge, to secure that pass to the mainland. General Heath
had been too rapid for them. Colonel Hand and his Philadelphia riflemen,
the same who had checked the British advance on Long Island, had taken
up the planks of the bridge, and posted themselves opposite the end of
the causeway, whence they commenced firing with their rifles. They were
soon reinforced by Colonel Prescott, of Bunker’s Hill renown, with his
regiment, and Lieutenant Bryant of the artillery, with a three-pounder.
Checked at this pass, the British moved toward the head of the creek;
here they found the Americans in possession of the ford, where they were
reinforced by Colonel Graham, of the New York line, with his regiment,
and Lieutenant Jackson of the artillery, with a six-pounder. These
skilful dispositions of his troops by General Heath had brought the
enemy to a stand. By the time Washington arrived in the vicinity, the
British had encamped on the neck; the riflemen and yagers keeping up a
scattering fire at each other across the marsh; and Captain Bryant now
and then saluting the enemy with his field-piece.
Having surveyed the ground, Washington ordered works to be thrown up at
the passes from the neck to the mainland. The British also threw up a
work at the end of the causeway. In the afternoon nine ships, with a
great number of schooners, sloops, and flat-bottomed boats full of men,
passed through Hell Gate, towards Throg’s Point; and information
received from two deserters, gave Washington reason to believe that the
greater part of the enemy’s forces were gathering in that quarter.
General McDougall’s brigade, in which were Colonel Smallwood and the
independent companies, was sent in the evening to strengthen Heath’s
division at King’s Bridge, and to throw up works opposite the ford of
Harlem River.
Greene, who had heard of the landing of the enemy at Throg’s Neck, wrote
over to Washington, from Fort Constitution, informing him that he had
three brigades ready to join him if required. “If the troops are wanted
over your side,” said he, “or likely to be so, they should be got over
in the latter part of the night, as the shipping may move up from below,
and impede, if not totally stop the troops from passing. The tents upon
Staten Island,” he added, “had all been struck, as far as could be
ascertained.” It was plain the whole scene of action was changing.
On the 14th, General Lee arrived in camp, where he was welcomed as the
harbinger of good luck. Washington was absent, visiting the posts beyond
King’s Bridge, and the passes leading from Throg’s Neck; Lee immediately
rode forth to join him. No one gave him a sincerer greeting than the
commander-in-chief; who, diffident of his own military knowledge, had a
high opinion of that of Lee. He immediately gave him command of the
troops above King’s Bridge, now the greatest part of the army, but
desired that he would not exercise it for a day or two, until he had
time to acquaint himself with the localities and arrangements of the
post; Heath, in the interim, held the command.
Lee was evidently elevated by his successes at the South, and disposed
to criticise disparagingly the military operations of other commanders.
In a letter, written on the day of his arrival to his old associate in
arms, General Gates, he condemns the position of the army, and censures
Washington for submitting to the dictation of Congress, whose meddlesome
instructions had produced it. “_Inter nos_,” writes he, “the Congress
seem to stumble every step. I do not mean one or two of the cattle, but
the whole stable. I have been very free in delivering my opinion to
them. In my opinion General Washington is much to blame in not menacing
’em with resignation, unless they refrain from unhinging the army by
their absurd interference.
“Keep us Ticonderoga; much depends upon it. We ought to have an army in
the Delaware. I have roared it in the ears of Congress, but _carent
auribus_. Adieu, my dear friend; if we do meet again—why, we shall
smile.”[123]
In the mean time, Congress, on the 11th of October, having heard of the
ingress of the Phœnix, Roebuck and Tartar, passed a resolution that
General Washington be desired, if it be practicable, by every art, and
at whatever expense, to obstruct effectually the navigation of the North
River between Fort Washington and Mount Constitution, as well to prevent
the regress of the enemy’s vessels lately gone up as to hinder them from
receiving succors.
Under so many conflicting circumstances, Washington held a council of
war on the 16th, at Lee’s head-quarters, at which all the major-generals
were present excepting Greene, and all the brigadiers, as well as
Colonel Knox, who commanded the artillery. Letters from the Convention
and from individual members of it were read, concerning the turbulence
of the disaffected in the upper parts of the State; intelligence gained
from deserters was likewise stated, showing the intention of the enemy
to surround the camp. The policy was then discussed of remaining in
their present position on Manhattan Island, and awaiting there the
menaced attack: the strength of the position was urged; its being well
fortified, and extremely difficult of access. Lee, in reply, scoffed at
the idea of a position being good merely because its approaches were
difficult. How could they think of holding a position where the enemy
were so strong in front and rear; where ships had the command of the
water on each side, and where King’s Bridge was their only pass by which
to escape from being wholly enclosed? Had not their recent experience on
Long Island and at New York taught them the danger of such positions?
“For my part,” said he, “I would have nothing to do with the islands to
which you have been clinging so pertinaciously—I would give Mr. Howe a
fee-simple of them.”
“After much consideration and debate,” says the record of the council,
“the following question was stated: Whether (it having appeared that the
obstructions in the North River have proved insufficient, and that the
enemy’s whole force is now in our rear on Frog Point) it is now deemed
possible, in our situation, to prevent the enemy from cutting off the
communication with the country, and compelling us to fight them at all
disadvantages or surrender prisoners at discretion?”
All agreed, with but one dissenting voice, that it was not possible to
prevent the communication from being cut off, and that one of the
consequences mentioned in the question must follow.
The dissenting voice was that of General George Clinton, a brave
downright man, but little versed in the science of warfare. He could not
comprehend the policy of abandoning so strong a position; they were
equal in number to the enemy, and, as they must fight them somewhere,
could do it to more advantage there than any where else. Clinton felt as
a guardian of the Hudson and the upper country, and wished to meet the
enemy, as it were, at the very threshold.
As the resolve of Congress seemed imperative with regard to Fort
Washington, that post, it was agreed, should be “retained as long as
possible.”
A strong garrison was accordingly placed in it, composed chiefly of
troops from Magaw’s and Shee’s Pennsylvania regiments, the latter under
Lieutenant-colonel Lambert Cadwalader, of Philadelphia. Shee having
obtained leave of absence, Colonel Magaw was put in command of the post,
and solemnly charged by Washington to defend it to the last extremity.
The name of the opposite post on the Jersey shore, where Greene was
stationed, was changed from Fort Constitution to Fort Lee, in honor of
the general. Lee, in fact, was the military idol of the day. Even the
family of the commander in-chief joined in paying him homage. Colonel
Tench Tilghman, Washington’s aide-de-camp, in a letter to a friend,
writes: “You ask if General Lee is in health, and our people bold. I
answer both in the affirmative. His appearance amongst us has
contributed not a little to the latter.”
CHAPTER XXXVII.
ARMY ARRANGEMENTS—WASHINGTON AT WHITE PLAINS—THE ENEMY AT THROG’S
POINT—SKIRMISH OF COLONEL GLOVER—ATTEMPT TO SURPRISE ROGERS, THE
RENEGADE—TROOPERS IN A ROUGH COUNTRY—ALARMS AT WHITE PLAINS—CANNONADING
OF SHIPS AT FORT WASHINGTON—MARCH OF LEE—FORTIFIED CAMP AT WHITE
PLAINS—RECONNOITRING—THE AFFAIR AT CHATTERTON HILL—RELATIVE SITUATION OF
THE ARMIES—CHANGE OF POSITION—CONTRAST OF THE APPEARANCE OF THE
TROOPS—GEORGE CLINTON’S IDEA OF STRATEGY—MOVEMENT OF THE BRITISH
ARMY—INCENDIARIES AT WHITE PLAINS.
Previous to decamping from Manhattan Island, Washington formed four
divisions of the army, which were respectively assigned to Generals Lee,
Heath, Sullivan (recently obtained in exchange for General Prescott),
and Lincoln. Lee was stationed on Valentine’s Hill on the mainland,
immediately opposite King’s Bridge, to cover the transportation across
it of the military stores and heavy baggage. The other divisions were to
form a chain of fortified posts, extending about thirteen miles along a
ridge of hills on the west side of the Bronx, from Lee’s camp up to the
village of White Plains.
Washington’s head-quarters continued to be on Harlem Heights for several
days, during which time he was continually in the saddle, riding about a
broken, woody, and half wild country, forming posts, and choosing sites
for breastworks and redoubts. By his skilful disposition of the army, it
was protected in its whole length by the Bronx, a narrow but deep
stream, fringed with trees, which ran along the foot of the ridge; at
the same time his troops faced and outflanked the enemy, and covered the
roads along which the stores and baggage had to be transported. On the
21st, he shifted his head-quarters to Valentine’s Hill, and on the 23d
to White Plains, where he stationed himself in a fortified camp.
While he was thus incessantly in action, General, now Sir William Howe
(having recently, in reward for his services, been made a knight
companion of the Bath), remained for six days passive in his camp on
Throg’s Point, awaiting the arrival of supplies and reinforcements,
instead of pushing across to the Hudson, and throwing himself between
Washington’s army and the upper country. His inaction lost him a golden
opportunity. By the time his supplies arrived, the Americans had broken
up the causeway leading to the mainland, and taken positions too strong
to be easily forced.
Finding himself headed in this direction, Sir William reembarked part of
his troops in flat-boats on the 18th, crossed Eastchester Bay, and
landed on Pell’s Point, at the mouth of Hutchinson’s River. Here he was
joined in a few hours by the main body, with the baggage and artillery,
and proceeded through the manor of Pelham towards New Rochelle; still
with a view to get above Washington’s army.
In their march, the British were waylaid and harassed by Colonel Glover
of Massachusetts, with his own, Reed’s, and Shepard’s regiments of
infantry. Twice the British advance guard were thrown into confusion and
driven back with severe loss, by a sharp fire from behind stone fences.
A third time they advanced in solid columns. The Americans gave them
repeated volleys, and then retreated with the loss of eight killed and
thirteen wounded, among whom was Colonel Shepard. Colonel Glover, and
the officers and soldiers who were with him in this skirmish, received
the public thanks of Washington for their merit and good behavior.
On the 21st, General Howe was encamped about two miles north of New
Rochelle, with his outposts extending to Mamaroneck on the Sound. At the
latter place was posted Colonel Rogers, the renegade, as he was called,
with the Queen’s Rangers, his newly-raised corps of loyalists.
Hearing of this, Lord Stirling resolved, if possible, to cut off this
outpost and entrap the old hunter. Colonel Haslet, of his brigade,
always prompt on such occasions, undertook the exploit at the head of
seven hundred and fifty of the Delaware troops, who had fought so
bravely on Long Island. With these he crossed the line of the British
march; came undiscovered upon the post; drove in the guard; killed a
lieutenant and several men, and brought away thirty-six prisoners, with
a pair of colors, sixty stands of arms, and other spoils. He missed the
main prize, however,—Rogers skulked off in the dark at the first fire.
He was too old a partisan to be easily entrapped.
For this exploit, Colonel Haslet and his men were publicly thanked by
Lord Stirling, on parade.
These, and other spirited and successful skirmishes, while they retarded
the advance of the enemy, had the far more important effect of
exercising and animating the American troops, and accustoming them to
danger.
While in this neighborhood, Howe was reinforced by a second division
of Hessians under General Knyphausen, and a regiment of Waldeckers,
both of which had recently arrived in New York. He was joined, also,
by the whole of the seventeenth light dragoons, and a part of the
sixteenth, which had arrived on the 3d instant from Ireland, with
Lieutenant-colonel (afterwards Earl) Harcourt. Some of their horses
had been brought with them across the sea, others had been procured
since their arrival.
The Americans at first regarded these troopers with great dread.
Washington, therefore, took pains to convince them, that in a rough,
broken country, like the present, full of stone fences, no troops were
so inefficient as cavalry. They could be waylaid and picked off by sharp
shooters from behind walls and thickets, while they could not leave the
road to pursue their covert foe.
Further to inspirit them against this new enemy, he proclaimed, in
general orders, a reward of one hundred dollars for every trooper
brought in with his horse and accoutrements, and so on, in proportion to
the completeness of the capture.
On the 25th, about two o’clock in the afternoon, intelligence was
brought to head-quarters that three or four detachments of the enemy
were on the march, within four miles of the camp, and the main army
following in columns. The drums beat to arms; the men were ordered to
their posts; an attack was expected. The day passed away, however,
without any demonstration of the enemy. Howe detached none of his force
on lateral expeditions, evidently meditating a general engagement. To
prepare for it, Washington drew all his troops from the posts along the
Bronx into the fortified camp at White Plains. Here every thing remained
quiet but expectant, throughout the 26th. In the morning of the 27th,
which was Sunday, the heavy booming of cannon was heard from a distance,
seemingly in the direction of Fort Washington. Scouts galloped off to
gain intelligence. We will anticipate their report.
Two of the British frigates, at seven o’clock in the morning, had moved
up the Hudson, and come to anchor near Bourdett’s Ferry, below the
Morris House, Washington’s old head-quarters, apparently with the
intention of stopping the ferry, and cutting off the communication
between Fort Lee and Fort Washington. At the same time, troops made
their appearance on Harlem Plains, where Lord Percy held command.
Colonel Morgan immediately manned the lines with troops from the
garrison of Fort Washington. The ships opened a fire to enfilade and
dislodge them. A barbette battery on the cliffs of the Jersey shore,
left of the ferry, fired down upon the frigate, but with little effect.
Colonel Magaw got down an eighteen-pounder to the lines near the Morris
House, and fired fifty or sixty rounds, two balls at a time. Two
eighteen-pounders were likewise brought down from Fort Lee, and planted
opposite the ships. By the fire from both shores they were hulled
repeatedly.
It was the thundering of these cannonades which had reached Washington’s
camp at White Plains, and even startled the Highlands of the Hudson. The
ships soon hoisted all sail. The foremost slipped her cable, and
appeared to be in the greatest confusion. She could make no way, though
towed by two boats. The other ship seeing her distress, sent two barges
to her assistance, and by the four boats she was dragged out of reach of
the American fire, her pumps going all the time. “Had the tide been
flood one half hour longer,” writes General Greene, “we should have sunk
her.”
At the time that the fire from the ships began, Lord Percy brought up
his field-pieces and mortars, and made an attack upon the lines. He was
resolutely answered by the troops sent down from Fort Washington, and
several Hessians were killed. An occasional firing was kept up until
evening, when the ships fell down the river, and the troops which had
advanced on Harlem Plains drew within their lines again.
“We take this day’s movement to be only a feint,” writes one of the
garrison at Fort Lee; “at any rate, it is little honorable to the red
coats.” Its chief effect was to startle the distant camp, and astound a
quiet country with the thundering din of war.
The celebrated Thomas Paine, author of “The Rights of Man,” and other
political works, was a spectator of the affair from the rocky summit of
the Palisades, on the Jersey shore.
While these things were passing at Fort Washington, Lee had struck his
tents, and with the rear division, eight thousand strong, the baggage
and artillery, and a train of waggons four miles long, laden with stores
and ammunition, was lumbering along the rough country roads to join the
main army. It was not until Monday morning, after being on the road all
night, that he arrived at White Plains.
Washington’s camp was situated on high ground, facing the east. The
right wing stretched towards the south along a rocky hill, at the foot
of which the Bronx, making an elbow, protected it in flank and rear. The
left wing rested on a small, deep lake among the hills. The camp was
strongly intrenched in front.
About a quarter of a mile to the right of the camp, and separated from
the height on which it stood by the Bronx and a marshy interval, was a
corresponding height called Chatterton’s Hill. As this partly commanded
the right flank, and as the intervening bend of the Bronx was easily
passable, Washington had stationed on its summit a militia regiment.
The whole encampment was a temporary one, to be changed as soon as the
military stores collected there could be removed; and now that General
Lee was arrived, Washington rode out with him, and other general
officers who were off duty, to reconnoitre a height which appeared more
eligible. When arrived at it, Lee pointed to another on the north, still
more commanding. “Yonder,” said he, “is the ground we ought to occupy.”
“Let us go, then, and view it,” replied Washington. They were gently
riding in that direction, when a trooper came spurring up his panting
horse. “The British are in the camp, sir!” cried he. “Then, gentlemen,”
said Washington, “we have other business to attend to than
reconnoitring.” Putting spurs to his horse, he set off for the camp at
full gallop, the others spurring after him.
Arrived at head-quarters, he was informed by Adjutant-general Reed, that
the picket guards had all been driven in, and the enemy were advancing:
but that the whole American army was posted in order of battle.
“Gentlemen,” said Washington, turning calmly to his companions, “you
will return to your respective posts, and do the best you can.”
Apprehensive that the enemy might attempt to get possession of
Chatterton’s Hill, he detached Colonel Haslet with his Delaware
regiment, to reinforce the militia posted there. To these he soon added
General McDougall’s brigade, composed of Smallwood’s Marylanders,
Ritzema’s New Yorkers, and two other regiments. These were much reduced
by sickness and absence. General McDougall had command of the whole
force upon the hill, which did not exceed 1,600 men.
These dispositions were scarcely made, when the enemy appeared
glistening on the high grounds beyond the village of White Plains. They
advanced in two columns, the right commanded by Sir Henry Clinton, the
left by the Hessian general, De Heister. There was also a troop of
horse; so formidable in the inexperienced eyes of the Americans. “It was
a brilliant but formidable sight,” writes Heath in his memoirs. “The sun
shone bright, their arms glittered; and perhaps troops never were shown
to more advantage.”
For a time they halted in a wheat field, behind a rising ground, and the
general officers rode up in the centre to hold a consultation.
Washington supposed they were preparing to attack him in front, and such
indeed was their intention; but the commanding height of Chatterton’s
Hill had caught Sir William’s eye, and he determined first to get
possession of it.
Colonel Rahl was accordingly detached with a brigade of Hessians, to
make a circuit southwardly round a piece of wood, cross the Bronx about
a quarter of a mile below, and ascend the south side of the hill; while
General Leslie, with a large force, British and Hessian, should advance
directly in front, throw a bridge across the stream, and charge up the
hill.
A furious cannonade was now opened by the British from fifteen or twenty
pieces of artillery, placed on high ground opposite the hill; under
cover of which, the troops of General Leslie hastened to construct the
bridge. In so doing, they were severely galled by two field-pieces,
planted on a ledge of rock on Chatterton’s Hill, and in charge of
Alexander Hamilton, the youthful captain of artillery. Smallwood’s
Maryland battalion, also, kept up a sharp fire of small arms.
As soon as the bridge was finished, the British and Hessians under
Leslie rushed over it, formed, and charged up the hill to take
Hamilton’s two field-pieces. Three times the two field-pieces were
discharged, ploughing the ascending columns from hill-top to river,
while Smallwood’s “blue and buff” Marylanders kept up their volleys of
musketry.
In the mean time, Rahl and his Hessian brigade forded the Bronx lower
down, pushed up the south side of the hill, and endeavored to turn
McDougall’s right flank. The militia gave the general but little
support. They had been dismayed at the opening of the engagement by a
shot from a British cannon, which wounded one of them in the thigh, and
nearly put the whole to flight. It was with the utmost difficulty
McDougall had rallied them, and posted them behind a stone wall. Here
they did some service, until a troop of British cavalry, having gained
the crest of the hill, came on, brandishing their sabres. At their first
charge the militia gave a random, scattering fire, then broke, and fled
in complete confusion.
A brave stand was made on the summit of the hill by Haslet, Ritzema, and
Smallwood, with their troops. Twice they repulsed horse and foot,
British and Hessians, until, cramped for room and greatly outnumbered,
they slowly and sullenly retreated down the north side of the hill,
where there was a bridge across the Bronx. Smallwood remained upon the
ground for some time after the retreat had begun, and received two flesh
wounds, one in the hip, the other through the arm. At the bridge over
the Bronx, the retreating troops were met by General Putnam, who was
coming to their assistance with Beall’s brigade. In the rear of this
they marched back into the camp.
The loss on both sides, in this short but severe action, was nearly
equal. That of the Americans was between three and four hundred men,
killed, wounded, and taken prisoners. At first it was thought to be much
more, many of the militia and a few of the regulars being counted as
lost, who had scattered themselves among the hills, but afterwards
returned to head-quarters.
The British army now rested with their left wing on the hill they had
just taken, and which they were busy intrenching. They were extending
their right wing to the left of the American lines, so that their two
wings and centre formed nearly a semicircle. It was evidently their
design to outflank the American camp, and get in the rear of it. The
day, however, being far advanced, was suffered to pass without any
further attack; but the morrow was looked forward to for a deadly
conflict. Washington availed himself of this interval to have the sick
and wounded, and as much of the stores as possible, removed from the
camp. “The two armies,” says General Heath in his Memoirs, “lay looking
at each other, within long cannon shot. In the night time the British
lighted up a vast number of fires, the weather growing pretty cold.
These fires, some on the level ground, some at the foot of the hills,
and at all distances to their brows, some of which were lofty, seemed to
the eye to mix with the stars. The American side doubtless exhibited to
them a similar appearance.”
During this anxious night, Washington was assiduously occupied throwing
back his right wing to stronger ground; doubling his intrenchments and
constructing three redoubts, with a line in front, on the summit of his
post. These works were principally intended for defence against small
arms, and were thrown up with a rapidity that to the enemy must have
savored of magic. They were, in fact, made of the stalks of Indian corn
or maize taken from a neighboring corn-field, and pulled up with the
earth clinging in masses to the large roots. “The roots of the stalks,”
says Heath, “and earth on them placed in the face of the works, answered
the purpose of sods and fascines. The tops being placed inwards, as the
loose earth was thrown upon them, became as so many trees to the work,
which was carried up with a despatch scarcely conceivable.”
In the morning of the 29th, when Howe beheld how greatly Washington had
improved his position and strengthened it, by what appeared to be
solidly constructed works, he postponed his meditated assault, ordered
up Lord Percy from Harlem with the fourth brigade and two battalions of
the sixth, and proceeded to throw up lines and redoubts in front of the
American camp, as if preparing to cannonade it. As the enemy were
endeavoring to outflank him, especially on his right wing, Washington
apprehended one of their objects might be to advance a part of their
force, and seize on Pine’s Bridge over Croton River, which would cut off
his communication with the upper country. General Beall, with three
Maryland regiments, was sent off with all expedition to secure that
pass. It was Washington’s idea that, having possession of Croton River
and the passes in the Highlands, his army would be safe from further
pursuit, and have time to repose after its late excessive fatigue, and
would be fresh, and ready to harass the enemy should they think fit to
winter up the country.
At present nothing could exceed the war-worn condition of the troops,
unseasoned as they were to this kind of service. A scornful letter,
written at this time by a British officer, to his friend in London,
gives a picture of the ragged plight to which they were reduced, in this
rainy and inclement season. “The rebel army are in so wretched a
condition as to clothing and accoutrements, that I believe no nation
ever saw such a set of tatterdemalions. There are few coats among them
but what are out at elbows, and in a whole regiment there is scarce a
pair of breeches. Judge, then, how they must be pinched by a winter’s
campaign. We, who are warmly clothed and well equipped, already feel it
severely; for it is even now much colder than I ever felt it in
England.”
Alas for the poor half-naked, weather-beaten patriots, who had to cope
with these well-fed, well-clad, well-appointed mercenaries! A letter
written at the very same date (October 31), by General George Clinton,
shows what, in their forlorn plight, they had to grapple with.
“We had reason,” writes he, “to apprehend an attack last night, or by
daylight this morning. Our lines were manned all night in consequence;
and a most horrid night it was to lay in cold trenches. Uncovered as we
are, daily on fatigue, making redoubts, fleches, abattis, and retreating
from them and the little temporary huts made for our comfort before they
are well finished, I fear will ultimately destroy our army without
fighting.”[124] “However,” adds he, honestly, “I would not be understood
to condemn measures. They may be right for aught I know. I do not
understand much of the refined art of war; it is said to consist in
stratagem and deception.” In a previous letter to the same friend, in a
moment of hurry and alarm, he writes, “Pray let Mrs. Clinton know that I
am well, and that she need not be uneasy about me. It would be too much
honor to die in so good a cause.”
Clinton, as we have before intimated, was an honest and ardent patriot,
of resolute spirit, and plain, direct good sense; but an inexperienced
soldier. His main idea of warfare was straightforward fighting; and he
was greatly perplexed by the continual strategy which Washington’s
situation required. One of the aides-de-camp of the latter had a truer
notion on the subject. “The campaign hitherto,” said he, “has been a
fair trial of generalship, in which I flatter myself we have had the
advantage. If we, with our motley army, can keep Mr. Howe and his grand
appointment at bay, I think we shall make no contemptible military
figure.”[125]
On the night of the 31st, Washington made another of those moves which
perplexed the worthy Clinton. In the course of the night he shifted his
whole position, set fire to the barns and out-houses containing forage
and stores, which there was no time to remove, and, leaving a strong
rear-guard on the heights, and in the neighboring woods, retired with
his main army a distance of five miles, among the high, rocky hills
about Northcastle. Here he immediately set to work to intrench and
fortify himself; his policy at this time being, as he used to say, “to
fight with the spade and mattock.”
General Howe did not attempt to dislodge him from this fastness. He at
one time ordered an attack on the rear-guard, but a violent rain
prevented it, and for two or three days he remained seemingly inactive.
“All matters are as quiet as if the enemy were one hundred miles distant
from us,” writes one of Washington’s aides on the 2d of November. During
the night of the 4th, this quiet was interrupted. A mysterious sound was
heard in the direction of the British camp; like the rumbling of waggons
and artillery. At daybreak the meaning of it was discovered. The enemy
were decamping. Long trains were observed, defiling across the hilly
country, along the roads leading to Dobbs’ Ferry on the Hudson. The
movement continued for three successive days, until their whole force,
British and Hessians, disappeared from White Plains.
The night after their departure a party of Americans, heated with
liquor, set fire to the court-house and other edifices in the village,
as if they had belonged to the enemy; an outrage which called forth a
general order from Washington, expressive of his indignation, and
threatening the perpetrators with signal punishment when detected. We
notice this matter, because in British accounts, the burning of those
buildings had been charged upon Washington himself; being, no doubt,
confounded with the burning of the barns and out-houses ordered by him
on shifting his encampment.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CONJECTURES AS TO THE INTENTIONS OF THE ENEMY—CONSEQUENT
PRECAUTIONS—CORRESPONDENCE WITH GREENE RESPECTING FORT
WASHINGTON—DISTRIBUTION OF THE ARMY—LEE LEFT IN COMMAND AT
NORTHCASTLE—INSTRUCTIONS TO HIM—WASHINGTON AT PEEKSKILL—VISITS TO THE
POSTS IN THE HIGHLANDS.
Various were the speculations at head-quarters on the sudden movement of
the enemy. Washington writes to General William Livingston (now governor
of the Jerseys): “They have gone towards the North River and King’s
Bridge. Some suppose they are going into winter quarters, and will sit
down in New York without doing more than investing Fort Washington. I
cannot subscribe wholly to this opinion myself. That they will invest
Fort Washington, is a matter of which there can be no doubt; and I think
there is a strong probability that General Howe will detach a part of
his force to make an incursion into the Jerseys, provided he is going to
New York. He must attempt something on account of his reputation, for
what has he done as yet, with his great army?”
In the same letter he expressed his determination, as soon as it should
appear that the present manœuvre was a real retreat, and not a feint, to
throw over a body of troops into the Jerseys to assist in checking
Howe’s progress. He, moreover, recommended to the governor to have the
militia of that State put on the best possible footing, and a part of
them held in readiness to take the place of the State levies, whose term
of service would soon expire. He advised, also, that the inhabitants
contiguous to the water, should be prepared to remove their stock,
grain, effects, and carriages, on the earliest notice.
In a letter of the same date, he charged General Greene, should Howe
invest Fort Washington with part of his force, to give the garrison all
possible assistance.
On the following day (Nov. 8), his aide-de-camp, Colonel Tilghman,
writes to General Greene from head-quarters: “The enemy are at Dobbs’
Ferry with a great number of boats, ready to go into Jersey, _or proceed
up the river_.”
Greene doubted any intention of the enemy to cross the river; it might
only be a feint to mislead; still, as a precaution, he had ordered
troops up from the flying camp, and was posting them opposite Dobbs’
Ferry, and at other passes where a landing might be attempted; the whole
being under the command of General Mercer.
Affairs at Fort Washington soon settled the question of the enemy’s
intentions with regard to it. Lord Percy took his station with a body of
troops before the lines to the south. Knyphausen advanced on the north.
The Americans had previously abandoned Fort Independence, burnt its
barracks, and removed the stores and cannon. Crossing King’s Bridge,
Knyphausen took a position between it and Fort Washington. The approach
to the fort, on this side, was exceedingly steep and rocky; as, indeed,
were all its approaches excepting that on the south, where the country
was more open, and the ascent gradual. The fort could not hold within
its walls above one thousand men; the rest of the troops were
distributed about the lines and outworks. While the fort was thus
menaced, the chevaux-de-frise had again proved inefficient. On the night
of the 5th, a frigate and two transports, bound up to Dobbs’ Ferry, with
supplies for Howe’s army, had broken through; though, according to
Greene’s account, not without being considerably shattered by the
batteries.
Informed of these facts, Washington wrote to Greene on the 8th: “If we
cannot prevent vessels from passing up the river, and the enemy are
possessed of all the surrounding country, what valuable purpose can it
answer to hold a post from which the expected benefit cannot be had? I
am, therefore, inclined to think, that it will not be prudent to hazard
the men and stores at Mount Washington; but, as you are on the spot, I
leave it to you to give such orders as to evacuating Mount Washington as
you may judge best, and so far revoking the orders given to Colonel
Magaw, to defend it to the last.”
Accounts had been received at head-quarters of a considerable movement
on the preceding evening (Nov. 7th), among the enemy’s boats at Dobbs’
Ferry, with the intention, it was said, of penetrating the Jerseys, and
falling down upon Fort Lee. Washington, therefore, in the same letter
directed Greene to have all the stores not necessary to the defence
removed immediately, and to destroy all the stock, the hay and grain, in
the neighborhood, which the owners refused to remove. “Experience has
shown,” adds he, “that a contrary conduct is not of the least advantage
to the poor inhabitants, from whom all their effects of every kind are
taken without distinction and without the least satisfaction.”
Greene, in reply (Nov. 9th), adhered with tenacity to the policy of
maintaining Fort Washington. “The enemy,” said he, “must invest it with
double the number of men required for its defence. They must keep troops
at King’s Bridge, to cut off all communication with the country, and in
considerable force, for fear of an attack.” He did not consider the fort
in immediate danger. Colonel Magaw thought it would take the enemy until
the end of December to carry it. In the mean time, the garrison could at
any time be brought off, and even the stores removed, should matters
grow desperate. If the enemy should not find it an object of importance,
they would not trouble themselves about it; if they should, it would be
a proof that they felt an injury from its being maintained. The giving
it up would open for them a free communication with the country by the
way of King’s Bridge.[126]
It is doubtful when or where Washington received this letter, as he left
the camp at Northcastle at eleven o’clock of the following morning.
There being still considerable uncertainty as to the intentions of the
enemy, all his arrangements were made accordingly. All the troops
belonging to the States west of the Hudson, were to be stationed in the
Jerseys, under command of General Putnam. Lord Stirling had already been
sent forward with the Maryland and Virginia troops to Peekskill, to
cross the river at King’s Ferry. Another division composed of
Connecticut and Massachusetts troops, under General Heath, was to
co-operate with the brigade of New York militia under General George
Clinton, in securing the Highland posts on both sides of the river.
The troops which would remain at Northcastle after the departure of
Heath and his division, were to be commanded by Lee. Washington’s letter
of instructions to that general is characterized by his own modesty, and
his deference for Lee’s superior military experience. He suggests,
rather than orders, yet his letter is sufficiently explicit. “A little
time now,” writes he, “must manifest the enemy’s designs, and point out
to you the measures proper to be pursued by that part of the army under
your command. I shall give no directions, therefore, on this head,
having the most entire confidence in your judgment and military
exertions. One thing, however, I will suggest, namely, that the
appearance of embarking troops for the Jerseys may be intended as a
feint to weaken us, and render the post we now hold more vulnerable, or
the enemy may find that troops are assembled with more expedition, and
in greater numbers, than they expected, on the Jersey shore, to oppose
them; and, as it is possible, from one or other of these motives, that
they may yet pay the party under your command a visit, it will be
unnecessary, I am persuaded, to recommend to you the propriety of
putting this post, if you stay at it, into a proper posture of defence,
and guarding against surprises. But I would recommend it to your
consideration, whether, under the suggestion above, your retiring to
Croton Bridge, and some strong post still more easterly (covering the
passes through the Highlands), may not be more advisable than to run the
hazard of an attack with unequal numbers. At any rate, I think all your
baggage and stores, except such as are necessary for immediate use,
ought to be to the northward of Croton River. * * * * You will consider
the post at Croton’s (or Pine’s) Bridge as under your immediate
care. * * * * If the enemy should remove the whole, or the greater part
of their force to the west side of Hudson’s River, I have no doubt of
your following with all possible dispatch, leaving the militia and
invalids to cover the frontiers of Connecticut in case of need.”
We have been minute in stating these matters, from their bearing on
subsequent operations.
On the 10th of November, Washington left the camp at Northcastle, at 11
o’clock, and arrived at Peekskill at sunset; whither General Heath, with
his division, had preceded him by a few hours. Lord Stirling was there,
likewise, having effected the transportation of the Maryland and
Virginia troops across the river, and landed them at the ferry south of
Stony Point; though a better landing was subsequently found north of the
point. His lordship had thrown out a scouting party in the advance, and
a hundred men to take possession of a gap in the mountain, through which
a road passed toward the Jerseys.
Washington was now at the entrance of the Highlands, that grand defile
of the Hudson, the object of so much precaution and solicitude. On the
following morning, accompanied by Generals Heath, Stirling, James and
George Clinton, Mifflin, and others, he made a military visit in boats
to the Highland posts. Fort Montgomery was in a considerable state of
forwardness, and a work in the vicinity was projected to co-operate with
it. Fort Constitution commanded a sudden bend of the river, but Lord
Stirling, in his report of inspection, had intimated that the fort
itself was commanded by West Point opposite. A glance of the eye,
without going on shore, was sufficient to convince Washington of the
fact. A fortress subsequently erected on that point, has been considered
the Key of the Highlands.
On the morning of the 12th, at an early hour, Washington rode out with
General Heath to reconnoitre the east side of the Hudson, at the gorge
of the Highlands. Henry Wisner, in a report to the New York Convention,
had mentioned a hill to the north of Peekskill, so situated, with the
road winding along the side of it, that ten men on the top, by rolling
down stones, might prevent ten thousand from passing. “I’ll believe,”
said he, “nothing more need be done than to keep great quantities of
stones at the different places where the troops must pass, if they
attempt penetrating the mountains.”
Near Robinson’s Bridge, in this vicinity, about two miles from
Peekskill, Washington chose a place where troops should be stationed to
cover the south entrance into the mountains; and here, afterwards, was
established an important military depot called Continental Village.
On the same day (12th), he wrote to General Lee, inclosing a copy of
resolutions just received from Congress, respecting levies for the new
army, showing the importance of immediately beginning the recruiting
service. If no commissioners arrived from Rhode Island, he was to
appoint the officers recommended to that State by General Greene. “I
cannot conclude,” adds he, “without reminding you of the military and
other stores about your encampment, and at Northcastle, and to press the
removal of them above Croton Bridge, or such other places of security as
you may think proper. General Howe, having sent no part of his force to
Jersey yet, makes the measure more necessary, as he may turn his views
another way, and attempt their destruction.”
It was evidently Washington’s desire that Lee should post himself, as
soon as possible, beyond the Croton, where he would be safe from
surprise, and at hand to throw his troops promptly across the Hudson,
should the Jerseys be invaded.
Having made all these surveys and arrangements, Washington placed Heath
in the general command of the Highlands, with written instructions to
fortify the passes with all possible despatch, and directions how the
troops were to be distributed on both sides of the river; and here we
take occasion to give some personal notice of this trusty officer.
Heath was now in the fortieth year of his age. Like many of the noted
officers of the Revolution, he had been brought up in rural life, on an
hereditary farm near Boston; yet, according to his own account, though
passionately fond of agricultural pursuits, he had also, almost from
childhood, a great relish for military affairs, and had studied every
treatise on the subject in the English language, so that he considered
himself “fully acquainted with the _theory_ of war, in all its branches
and duties, from the private soldier to the commander-in-chief.”
He describes himself to be of a middling stature, light complexion, very
corpulent and bald-headed, so that the French officers who served in
America, compared him, in person, to the Marquis of Granby.[127]
Such was the officer intrusted with the command of the Highland passes,
and encamped at Peekskill, their portal. We shall find him faithful to
his trust; scrupulous in obeying the letter of his instructions; but
sturdy and punctilious in resisting any undue assumption of authority.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
AFFAIRS ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN—GATES AT TICONDEROGA—ARNOLD’S
FLOTILLA—MILITARY PREPARATIONS OF SIR GUY CARLETON AT ST. JOHNS—NAUTICAL
ENCOUNTERS—GALLANT CONDUCT OF ARNOLD AND WATERBURY—CARLETON IN
POSSESSION OF CROWN POINT—HIS RETURN TO CANADA AND WINTER QUARTERS.
During his brief and busy sojourn at Peekskill, Washington received
important intelligence from the Northern army; especially that part of
it on Lake Champlain, under the command of General Gates. A slight
retrospect of affairs in that quarter is proper, before we proceed to
narrate the eventful campaign in the Jerseys.
The preparations for the defence of Ticonderoga, and the nautical
service on the lake, had met with difficulties at every step. At length,
by the middle of August, a small flotilla was completed, composed of a
sloop and schooner each of twelve guns (six and four pounders), two
schooners mounting eight guns each, and five gondolas, each of three
guns. The flotilla was subsequently augmented, and the command given by
Gates to Arnold, in compliance with the advice of Washington; who had a
high opinion of that officer’s energy, intrepidity, and fertility in
expedients.
Sir Guy Carleton, in the mean time, was straining every nerve for the
approaching conflict. The successes of the British forces on the
seaboard, had excited the zealous rivalry of the forces in Canada. The
commanders, newly arrived, were fearful the war might be brought to a
close, before they could have an opportunity to share in the glory.
Hence the ardor with which they encountered and vanquished obstacles
which might otherwise have appeared insuperable. Vessels were brought
from England in pieces and put together at St. Johns, boats of various
kinds and sizes were transported over land, or dragged up the rapids of
the Sorel. The soldiers shared with the seamen in the toil. The Canadian
farmers, also, were taken from their agricultural pursuits, and
compelled to aid in these, to them, unprofitable labors. Sir Guy was
full of hope and ardor. Should he get the command of Lakes Champlain and
George, the northern part of New York would be at his mercy; before
winter set in he might gain possession of Albany. He would then be able
to co-operate with General Howe in severing and subduing the northern
and southern provinces, and bringing the war to a speedy and triumphant
close.
In despite of every exertion, three months elapsed before his armament
was completed. Winter was fast approaching. Before it arrived, the
success of his brilliant plan required that he should fight his way
across Lake Champlain; carry the strong posts of Crown Point and
Ticonderoga; traverse Lake George, and pursue a long and dangerous march
through a wild and rugged country, beset with forests and morasses, to
Albany. That was the first post to the southward where he expected to
find rest and winter quarters for his troops.[128]
By the month of October, between twenty and thirty sail were afloat, and
ready for action. The flag-ship (the Inflexible) mounted eighteen
twelve-pounders; the rest were gunboats, a gondola and a flat-bottomed
vessel called a radeau, and named the _Thunderer_; carrying a battery of
six twenty-four and twelve six-pounders, besides howitzers. The gunboats
mounted brass field-pieces and howitzers. Seven hundred seamen navigated
the fleet; two hundred of them were volunteers from the transports. The
guns were worked by detachments from the corps of artillery. In a word,
according to British accounts, “no equipment of the kind was ever better
appointed or more amply furnished with every kind of provision necessary
for the intended service.”[129]
Captain Pringle conducted the armament, but Sir Guy Carleton was too
full of zeal, and too anxious for the event, not to head the enterprise;
he accordingly took his station on the deck of the flag-ship. They made
sail early in October, in quest of the American squadron, which was said
to be abroad upon the lake. Arnold, however, being ignorant of the
strength of the enemy, and unwilling to encounter a superior force in
the open lake, had taken his post under cover of Valcour Island, in the
upper part of a deep channel, or strait between that island and the
mainland. His force consisted of three schooners, two sloops, three
galleys and eight gondolas; carrying in all seventy guns, many of them
eighteen-pounders.
The British ships, sweeping past Cumberland Head with a fair wind and
flowing sail on the morning of the 11th, had left the southern end of
Valcour Island astern, when they discovered Arnold’s flotilla anchored
behind it, in a line extending across the strait so as not to be
outflanked. They immediately hauled close to the wind, and tried to beat
up into the channel. The wind, however, did not permit the largest of
them to enter. Arnold took advantage of the circumstance. He was on
board of the galley Congress, and, leaving the line, advanced with two
other galleys and the schooner Royal Savage, to attack the smaller
vessels as they entered before the large ones could come up. About
twelve o’clock the enemy’s schooner Carleton opened a brisk fire upon
the Royal Savage and the galleys. It was as briskly returned. Seeing the
enemy’s gunboats approaching, the Americans endeavored to return to the
line. In so doing, the Royal Savage ran aground. Her crew set her on
fire and abandoned her. In about an hour the British brought all their
gunboats in a range across the lower part of the channel, within musket
shot of the Americans, the schooner Carleton in the advance. They
landed, also, a large number of Indians on the island, to keep up a
galling fire from the shore upon the Americans with their rifles. The
action now became general, and was severe and sanguinary. The Americans,
finding themselves thus hemmed in by a superior force, fought with
desperation. Arnold pressed with his galley into the hottest of the
fight. The Congress was hulled several times, received seven shots
between wind and water, was shattered in mast and rigging, and many of
the crew were killed or wounded. The ardor of Arnold increased with his
danger. He cheered on his men by voice and example, often pointing the
guns with his own hands. He was ably seconded by Brigadier-general
Waterbury, in the Washington galley, which, like his own vessel, was
terribly cut up. The contest lasted throughout the day. Carried on as it
was within a narrow compass, and on a tranquil lake, almost every shot
took effect. The fire of the Indians from the shore was less deadly than
had been expected; but their whoops and yells, mingling with the
rattling of the musketry, and the thundering of the cannon, increased
the horrors of the scene. Volumes of smoke rose above the woody shores,
which echoed with the unusual din of war, and for a time this lovely
recess of a beautiful and peaceful lake was rendered a perfect
pandemonium.
The evening drew nigh, yet the contest was undecided. Captain Pringle,
after a consultation with Sir Guy Carleton, called off the smaller
vessels which had been engaged, and anchored his whole squadron in a
line as near as possible to the Americans, so as to prevent their
escape; trusting to capture the whole of them when the wind should prove
favorable, so that he could bring his large vessels into action.
Arnold, however, sensible that with his inferior and crippled force all
resistance would be unavailing, took advantage of a dark cloudy night,
and a strong north wind; his vessels slipped silently through the
enemy’s line without being discovered, one following a light on the
stern of the other; and by daylight they were out of sight. They had to
anchor, however, at Schuyler’s Island, about ten miles up the lake, to
stop leaks and make repairs. Two of the gondolas were here sunk, being
past remedy. About noon the retreat was resumed, but the wind had become
adverse; and they made little progress. Arnold’s galley, the Congress,
the Washington galley and four gondolas, all which had suffered severely
in the late fight, fell astern of the rest of the squadron in the course
of the night. In the morning, when the sun lifted a fog which had
covered the lake, they beheld the enemy within a few miles of them in
full chase, while their own comrades were nearly out of sight, making
the best of their way for Crown Point.
It was now an anxious trial of speed and seamanship. Arnold, with the
crippled relics of his squadron, managed by noon to get within a few
leagues of Crown Point, when they were overtaken by the Inflexible, the
Carleton, and the schooner Maria of 14 guns. As soon as they came up,
they poured in a tremendous fire. The Washington galley, already
shattered, and having lost most of her officers, was compelled to
strike, and General Waterbury and the crew were taken prisoners. Arnold
had now to bear the brunt of the action. For a long time he was engaged
within musket shot with the Inflexible, and the two schooners, until his
galley was reduced to a wreck and one third of the crew were killed. The
gondolas were nearly in the same desperate condition: yet the men stood
stoutly to their guns. Seeing resistance vain, Arnold determined that
neither vessels nor crew should fall into the hands of the enemy. He
ordered the gondolas to run on shore, in a small creek in the
neighborhood, the men to set fire to them as soon as they grounded, to
wade on shore with their muskets, and keep off the enemy until they were
consumed. He did the same with his own galley; remaining on board of her
until she was in flames, lest the enemy should get possession and strike
his flag, which was kept flying to the last.
He now set off with his gallant crew, many of whom were wounded, by a
road through the woods to Crown Point, where he arrived at night,
narrowly escaping an Indian ambush. Two schooners, two galleys, one
sloop and one gondola, the remnant which had escaped of this squadron,
were at anchor at the Point, and General Waterbury and most of his men
arrived there the next day on parole. Seeing that the place must soon
fall into the hands of the enemy, they set fire to the houses, destroyed
every thing they could not carry away, and embarking in the vessels made
sail for Ticonderoga.
The loss of the Americans in these two actions is said to have been
between eighty and ninety men; that of the British about forty. It is
worthy of mention, that among the young officers in Sir Guy Carleton’s
squadron, was Edward Pellew, who afterwards rose to renown as Admiral
Viscount Exmouth; celebrated, among other things for his victory at
Algiers.
The conduct of Arnold in these naval affairs gained him new laurels. He
was extolled for the judgment with which he chose his position, and
brought his vessels into action; for his masterly retreat, and for the
self-sacrificing devotion with which he exposed himself to the
overwhelming force of the enemy in covering the retreat of part of his
flotilla.
Sir Guy Carleton took possession of the ruined works at Crown Point,
where he was soon joined by the army. He made several movements by land
and water, as if meditating an attack upon Ticonderoga; pushing strong
detachments on both sides of the lake, which approached within a small
distance of the fort, while one vessel appeared within cannon shot of a
lower battery, sounding the depth of the channel, until a few shot
obliged her to retire. General Gates, in the mean time, strengthened his
works with incessant assiduity, and made every preparation for an
obstinate defence. A strong easterly wind prevented the enemy’s ships
from advancing to attack the lines, and gave time for the arrival of
reinforcements of militia to the garrison. It also afforded time for Sir
Guy Carleton to cool in ardor, and calculate the chances and the value
of success. The post, from its strength, and the apparent number and
resolution of the garrison, could not be taken without great loss of
life. If taken, the season was now too far advanced to think of passing
Lake George, and exposing the army to the perils of a winter campaign in
the inhospitable and impracticable wilds to the southward. Ticonderoga,
too, could not be kept during the winter, so that the only result of the
capture would be the reduction of the works and the taking of some
cannon; all which damage the Americans could remedy before the opening
of the summer campaign. If, however, the defence should be obstinate,
the British army, even if successful, might sustain a loss sufficient to
cripple its operations in the coming year.[130]
These, and other prudential reasons, induced Carleton to give up all
attempt upon the fortress at present; wherefore, re-embarking his
troops, he returned to St. Johns, and cantoned them in Canada for the
winter. It was not until about the 1st of November, that a reconnoitring
party, sent out from Ticonderoga by General Gates, brought him back
intelligence that Crown Point was abandoned by the enemy, and not a
hostile sail in sight. All apprehensions of an attack upon Ticonderoga
during the present year were at an end, and many of the troops stationed
there were already on their march toward Albany.
Such was the purport of the news from the north, received by Washington
at Peekskill. It relieved him for the present from all anxiety
respecting affairs on Lake Champlain, and gave him the prospect of
reinforcements from that quarter.
CHAPTER XL.
WASHINGTON CROSSES THE HUDSON—ARRIVES AT FORT LEE—AFFAIRS AT FORT
WASHINGTON—QUESTION ABOUT ITS ABANDONMENT—MOVEMENTS OF HOWE—THE FORT
SUMMONED TO SURRENDER—REFUSAL OF COLONEL MAGAW—THE FORT ATTACKED—CAPTURE
OF THE FORT AND GARRISON—COMMENTS OF WASHINGTON ON THE STATE OF AFFAIRS.
On the morning of the 12th of November, Washington crossed the Hudson,
to the ferry below Stony Point, with the residue of the troops destined
for the Jerseys. Far below were to be descried the Phœnix, the Roebuck,
and the Tartar, at anchor in the broad waters of Haverstraw Bay and the
Tappan Sea, guarding the lower ferries. The army, thus shut out from the
nearer passes, was slowly winding its way by a circuitous route through
the gap in the mountains, which Lord Stirling had secured. Leaving the
troops which had just landed, to pursue the same route to the
Hackensack, Washington, accompanied by Colonel Reed, struck a direct
course for Fort Lee, being anxious about affairs at Fort Washington. He
arrived there on the following day, and found, to his disappointment,
that General Greene had taken no measures for the evacuation of that
fortress; but on the contrary, had reinforced it with a part of Colonel
Durkee’s regiment, and the regiment of Colonel Rawlings, so that its
garrison now numbered upwards of two thousand men; a great part,
however, were militia. Washington’s orders for its evacuation had, in
fact, been discretionary, leaving the execution of them to Greene’s
judgment, “as being on the spot.” The latter had differed in opinion as
to the policy of such a measure; and Colonel Magaw, who had charge of
the fortress, was likewise confident it might be maintained.
Colonel Reed was of opposite counsels; but then he was personally
interested in the safety of the garrison. It was composed almost
entirely of Pennsylvania troops under Magaw and Lambert Cadwalader;
excepting a small detachment of Maryland riflemen commanded by Otho H.
Williams. They were his friends and neighbors, the remnant of the brave
men who had suffered so severely under Atlee and Smallwood.[131] The
fort was now invested on all sides but one; and the troops under Howe
which had been encamped at Dobbs’ Ferry, were said to be moving down
toward it. Reed’s solicitude was not shared by the garrison itself.
Colonel Magaw, its brave commander, still thought it was in no immediate
danger.
Washington was much perplexed. The main object of Howe was still a
matter of doubt with him. He could not think that Sir William was moving
his whole force upon that fortress, to invest which, a part would be
sufficient. He suspected an ulterior object, probably a Southern
expedition, as he was told a large number of ships were taking in wood
and water at New York. He resolved, therefore, to continue a few days in
this neighborhood, during which he trusted the designs of the enemy
would be more apparent; in the mean time he would distribute troops at
Brunswick, Amboy, Elizabethtown and Fort Lee, so as to be ready at these
various points, to check any incursions into the Jerseys.
In a letter to the President of Congress he urged for an increase of
ordnance and field-artillery. The rough, hilly country east of the
Hudson, and the strongholds and fastnesses of which the Americans had
possessed themselves, had prevented the enemy from profiting by the
superiority of their artillery; but this would not be the case, should
the scene of action change to an open champaign country, like the
Jerseys.
Washington was mistaken in his conjecture as to Sir William Howe’s
design. The capture of Fort Washington was, at present, his main object;
and he was encamped on Fordham Heights, not far from King’s Bridge,
until preliminary steps should be taken. In the night of the 14th,
thirty flat-bottomed boats stole quietly up the Hudson, passed the
American forts undiscovered, and made their way through Spyt den Duivel
Creek into Harlem River. The means were thus provided for crossing that
river and landing before unprotected parts of the American works.
On the 15th, General Howe sent in a summons to surrender, with a threat
of extremities should he have to carry the place by assault. Magaw, in
his reply, intimated a doubt that General Howe would execute a threat
“so unworthy of himself and the British nation; but give me leave,”
added he, “to assure his Excellency, that, actuated by the most glorious
cause that mankind ever fought in, I am determined to defend this post
to the very last extremity.”
Apprised by the Colonel of his peril, General Greene sent over
reinforcements, with an exhortation to him to persist in his defence;
and despatched an express to Washington, who was at Hackensack, where
the troops which had crossed from Peekskill were encamped. It was
nightfall when Washington arrived at Fort Lee. Greene and Putnam were
over at the besieged fortress. He threw himself into a boat, and had
partly crossed the river, when he met those generals returning. They
informed him of the garrison’s having been reinforced, and assured him
that it was in high spirits, and capable of making a good defence. It
was with difficulty, however, they could prevail on him to return with
them to the Jersey shore, for he was excessively excited.
Early the next morning (16th), Magaw made his dispositions for the
expected attack. His forces, with the recent addition, amounted to
nearly three thousand men. As the fort could not contain above a third
of that number, most of them were stationed about the outworks.
Colonel Lambert Cadwalader, with eight hundred Pennsylvanians, was
posted in the outer lines, about two miles and a half south of the fort,
the side menaced by Lord Percy with sixteen hundred men. Colonel
Rawlings, of Maryland, with a body of troops, many of them riflemen, was
stationed by a three-gun battery, on a rocky, precipitous hill, north of
the fort, and between it and Spyt den Duivel Creek. Colonel Baxter, of
Bucks County, Pennsylvania, with his regiment of militia, was posted
east of the fort, on rough, woody heights, bordering the Harlem River,
to watch the motions of the enemy, who had thrown up redoubts on high
and commanding ground, on the opposite side of the river, apparently to
cover the crossing and landing of troops.
Sir William Howe had planned four simultaneous attacks; one on the north
by Knyphausen, who was encamped on the York side of King’s Bridge,
within cannon shot of Fort Washington, but separated from it by high and
rough hills, covered with almost impenetrable woods. He was to advance
in two columns, formed by detachments made from the Hessians of his
corps, the brigade of Rahl, and the regiment of Waldeckers. The second
attack was to be by two battalions of light infantry, and two battalions
of guards, under Brigadier-general Mathew, who was to cross Harlem River
in flat-boats, under cover of the redoubts above mentioned, and to land
on the right of the fort. This attack was to be supported by the first
and second grenadiers, and a regiment of light infantry under command of
Lord Cornwallis. The third attack, intended as a feint to distract the
attention of the Americans, was to be by Colonel Sterling, with the
forty-second regiment, who was to drop down the Harlem River in bateaux,
to the left of the American lines, facing New York. The fourth attack
was to be on the south, by Lord Percy, with the English and Hessian
troops under his command, on the right flank of the American
intrenchments.[132]
About noon, a heavy cannonade thundering along the rocky hills, and
sharp volleys of musketry, proclaimed that the action was commenced.
Knyphausen’s division was pushing on from the north in two columns, as
had been arranged. The right was led by Colonel Rahl, the left by
himself. Rahl essayed to mount a steep, broken height called Cock Hill,
which rises from Spyt den Duivel Creek, and was covered with woods.
Knyphausen undertook a hill rising from the King’s Bridge road, but soon
found himself entangled in a woody defile, difficult to penetrate, and
where his Hessians were exposed to the fire of the three-gun battery,
and Rawlings’ riflemen.
While this was going on at the north of the fort, General Mathew, with
his light infantry and guards, crossed the Harlem River in the
flat-boats, under cover of a heavy fire from the redoubts.
He made good his landing, after being severely handled by Baxter and his
men, from behind rocks and trees, and the breastworks thrown up on the
steep river bank. A short contest ensued. Baxter, while bravely
encouraging his men, was killed by a British officer. His troops,
overpowered by numbers, retreated to the fort. General Mathew now pushed
on with his guards and light infantry to cut off Cadwalader. That
officer had gallantly defended the lines against the attack of Lord
Percy, until informed that Colonel Sterling was dropping down Harlem
River in bateaux to flank the lines, and take him in the rear. He sent
off a detachment to oppose his landing. They did it manfully. About
ninety of Sterling’s men were killed or wounded in their boats, but he
persevered, landed, and forced his way up a steep height, which was well
defended, gained the summit, forced a redoubt, and took nearly two
hundred prisoners. Thus doubly assailed, Cadwalader was obliged to
retreat to the fort. He was closely pursued by Percy with his English
troops and Hessians, but turned repeatedly on his pursuers. Thus he
fought his way to the fort, with the loss of several killed and more
taken prisoners; but marking his track by the number of Hessians slain.
The defence on the north side of the fort was equally obstinate and
unsuccessful. Rawlings with his Maryland riflemen and the aid of the
three-gun battery, had for some time kept the left column of Hessians
and Waldeckers under Knyphausen at bay. At length Colonel Rahl, with the
right column of the division, having forced his way directly up the
north side of the steep hill at Spyt den Duivel Creek, came upon
Rawlings’ men, whose rifles, from frequent discharges, had become foul
and almost useless, drove them from their strong post, and followed them
until within a hundred yards of the fort, where he was joined by
Knyphausen, who had slowly made his way through dense forest and over
felled trees. Here they took post behind a large stone house, and sent
in a flag, with a second summons to surrender.
Washington, surrounded by several of his officers, had been an anxious
spectator of the battle from the opposite side of the Hudson. Much of it
was hidden from him by intervening hills and forest; but the roar of
cannonry from the valley of Harlem River, the sharp and incessant
reports of rifles, and the smoke rising above the tree tops, told him of
the spirit with which the assault was received at various points, and
gave him for a time a hope that the defence might be successful. The
action about the lines to the south lay open to him, and could be
distinctly seen through a telescope; and nothing encouraged him more
than the gallant style in which Cadwalader with an inferior force
maintained his position. When he saw him, however, assailed in flank,
the line broken, and his troops, overpowered by numbers, retreating to
the fort, he gave up the game as lost. The worst sight of all, was to
behold his men cut down and bayoneted by the Hessians while begging
quarter. It is said so completely to have overcome him, that he wept
“with the tenderness of a child.”
Seeing the flag go into the fort from Knyphausen’s division, and
surmising it to be a summons to surrender, he wrote a note to Magaw,
telling him that if he could hold out until evening, and the place could
not be maintained, he would endeavor to bring off the garrison in the
night. Captain Gooch, of Boston, a brave and daring man, offered to be
the bearer of the note. “He ran down to the river, jumped into a small
boat, pushed over the river, landed under the bank, ran up to the fort
and delivered the message:—came out, ran and jumped over the broken
ground, dodging the Hessians, some of whom struck at him with their
pieces and others attempted to thrust him with their bayonets; escaping
through them, he got to his boat and returned to Fort Lee.”[133]
Washington’s message arrived too late. “The fort was so crowded by the
garrison, and the troops which had retreated into it, that it was
difficult to move about. The enemy, too, were in possession of the
little redoubts around, and could have poured in showers of shells and
ricochet balls that would have made dreadful slaughter.” It was no
longer possible for Magaw to get his troops to man the lines; he was
compelled, therefore, to yield himself and his garrison prisoners of
war. The only terms granted them were, that the men should retain their
baggage and the officers their swords.
The sight of the American flag hauled down, and the British flag waving
in its place, told Washington of the surrender. His instant care was for
the safety of the upper country, now that the lower defences of the
Hudson were at an end. Before he knew any thing about the terms of
capitulation, he wrote to General Lee, informing him of the surrender,
and calling his attention to the passes of the Highlands and those which
lay east of the river; begging him to have such measures adopted for
their defence as his judgment should suggest to be necessary. “I do not
mean,” added he, “to advise abandoning your present post, contrary to
your own opinion; but only to mention my own ideas of the importance of
those passes, and that you cannot give too much attention to their
security, by having works erected on the most advantageous places for
that purpose.”
Lee, in reply, objected to removing from his actual encampment at
Northcastle. “It would give us,” said he, “the air of being frightened;
it would expose a fine, fertile country to their ravages; and I must
add, that we are as secure as we could be in any position whatever.”
After stating that he should deposit his stores, &c., in a place fully
as safe, and more central than Peekskill, he adds: “As to ourselves,
light as we are, several retreats present themselves. In short, if we
keep a good look-out, we are in no danger; but I must entreat your
Excellency to enjoin the officers posted at Fort Lee, to give us the
quickest intelligence, if they observe any embarkation on the North
River.” As to the affair of Fort Washington, all that Lee observed on
the subject was: “Oh, general, why would you be over-persuaded by men of
inferior judgment to your own? It was a cursed affair.”
Lee’s allusion to men of inferior judgment, was principally aimed at
Greene, whose influence with the commander-in-chief seems to have
excited the jealousy of other officers of rank. So Colonel Tilghman,
Washington’s aide-de-camp, writes on the 17th, to Robert R. Livingston
of New York, “We were in a fair way of finishing the campaign with
credit to ourselves, and, I think, to the disgrace of Mr. Howe; and, had
the general followed his own opinion, the garrison would have been
withdrawn immediately upon the enemy’s falling down from Dobbs’ Ferry.
But General Greene was positive that our forces might at any time be
drawn off under the guns of Fort Lee. Fatal experience has evinced the
contrary.”[134]
Washington’s own comments on the reduction of the fort, made in a letter
to his brother Augustine, are worthy of special note. “This is a most
unfortunate affair, and has given me great mortification; as we have
lost, not only two thousand men,[135] that were there, but a good deal
of artillery, and some of the best arms we had. And what adds to my
mortification is, that this post, after the last ships went past it, was
held contrary to my wishes and opinion, as I conceived it to be a
hazardous one: but it having been determined on by a full council of
general officers, and a resolution of Congress having been received,
strongly expressive of their desire that the channel of the river which
we had been laboring to stop for a long time at that place, might be
obstructed, if possible; and knowing that this could not be done, unless
there were batteries to protect the obstructions, I did not care to give
an absolute order for withdrawing the garrison, till I could get round
and see the situation of things; and then it became too late, as the
place was invested. Upon the passing of the last ships, I had given it
as my opinion to General Greene, under whose care it was, that it would
be best to evacuate the place; but, as the order was discretionary, and
his opinion differed from mine, it was unhappily delayed too long; to my
great grief.”
The correspondence of Washington with his brother, is full of gloomy
anticipations. “In ten days from this date, there will not be above two
thousand men, if that number, of the fixed established regiments on this
side of Hudson River, to oppose Howe’s whole army; and very little more
on the other, to secure the eastern colonies, and the important passes
leading through the Highlands to Albany, and the country about the
lakes. In short it is impossible for me, in the compass of a letter, to
give you any idea of our situation, of my difficulties, and of the
constant perplexities I meet with, derived from the unhappy policy of
short enlistments, and delaying them too long. Last fall, or winter
before the army, which was then to be raised, was set about, I
represented in clear and explicit terms the evils which would arise from
short enlistments, the expense which must attend the raising an army
every year, and the futility of such an army when raised; and if I had
spoken with a prophetic spirit, I could not have foretold the evils with
more accuracy than I did. All the year since, I have been pressing
Congress to delay no time in engaging men upon such terms as would
insure success, telling them that the longer it was delayed, the more
difficult it would prove. But the measure was not commenced until it was
too late to be effected. * * * I am wearied almost to death with the
retrograde motion of things; and I solemnly protest, that a pecuniary
reward of twenty thousand pounds a year would not induce me to undergo
what I do, and, after all, perhaps to lose my character; as it is
impossible, under such a variety of distressing circumstances, to
conduct matters agreeably to public expectation.”
CHAPTER XLI.
THE ENEMY CROSS THE HUDSON—RETREAT OF THE GARRISON FROM FORT LEE—THE
CROSSING OF THE HACKENSACK—LEE ORDERED TO MOVE TO THE WEST SIDE OF THE
RIVER—REED’S LETTER TO HIM—SECOND MOVE OF THE ARMY BEYOND THE
PASSAIC—ASSISTANCE SOUGHT FROM VARIOUS QUARTERS—CORRESPONDENCES AND
SCHEMES OF LEE—HEATH STANCH TO HIS INSTRUCTIONS—ANXIETY OF GEORGE
CLINTON FOR THE SAFETY OF THE HUDSON—CRITICAL SITUATION OF THE
ARMY—DISPARAGING CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN LEE AND REED—WASHINGTON RETREATS
ACROSS THE RARITAN—ARRIVES AT TRENTON—REMOVES HIS BAGGAGE ACROSS THE
DELAWARE—DISMAY AND DESPONDENCY OF THE COUNTRY—PROCLAMATION OF LORD
HOWE—EXULTATION OF THE ENEMY—WASHINGTON’S RESOLVE IN CASE OF EXTREMITY.
With the capture of Fort Washington, the project of obstructing the
navigation of the Hudson, at that point, was at an end. Fort Lee,
consequently, became useless, and Washington ordered all the ammunition
and stores to be removed, preparatory to its abandonment. This was
effected with the whole of the ammunition, and a part of the stores, and
every exertion was making to hurry off the remainder, when, early in the
morning of the 20th, intelligence was brought that the enemy, with two
hundred boats, had crossed the river and landed a few miles above.
General Greene immediately ordered the garrison under arms, sent out
troops to hold the enemy in check, and sent off an express to
Washington, at Hackensack.
The enemy had crossed the Hudson, on a very rainy night, in two
divisions, one diagonally upward from King’s Bridge, landing on the west
side, about eight o’clock; the other marched up the east bank, three or
four miles, and then crossed to the opposite shore. The whole corps, six
thousand strong, and under the command of Lord Cornwallis, were landed,
with their cannon, by ten o’clock, at a place called Closter Dock, five
or six miles above Fort Lee, and under that line of lofty and
perpendicular cliffs known as the Palisades. “The seamen,” says Sir
William Howe, “distinguished themselves remarkably on this occasion, by
their readiness to drag the cannon up a very narrow road, for nearly
half a mile to the top of a precipice, which bounds the shore for some
miles on the west side.”[136]
Washington arrived at the fort in three quarters of an hour. Being told
that the enemy were extending themselves across the country, he at once
saw that they intended to form a line from the Hudson to the Hackensack,
and hem the whole garrison in between the two rivers. Nothing would save
it but a prompt retreat to secure the bridge over the Hackensack. No
time was to be lost. The troops sent out to check the enemy were
recalled. The retreat commenced in all haste. There was a want of horses
and waggons; a great quantity of baggage, stores and provisions,
therefore, was abandoned. So was all the artillery excepting two
twelve-pounders. Even the tents were left standing, and camp-kettles on
the fire. With all their speed they did not reach the Hackensack River
before the vanguard of the enemy was close upon them. Expecting a brush,
the greater part hurried over the bridge, others crossed at the ferry,
and some higher up. The enemy, however, did not dispute the passage of
the river; but Cornwallis stated in his despatches, that, had not the
Americans been apprised of his approach, he would have surrounded them
at the fort. Some of his troops that night occupied the tents they had
abandoned.
From Hackensack, Colonel Grayson, one of Washington’s aides-de-camp,
wrote instantly, by his orders, to General Lee; informing him that the
enemy had crossed into the Jerseys, and, as was reported, _in great
numbers_. “His Excellency,” adds Grayson, “thinks it would be advisable
in you to remove the troops under your command on this side of the North
River, and there wait for further commands.”
Washington himself wrote to Lee on the following day (Nov. 21st). “I am
of opinion,” said he, “and the gentlemen about me concur in it, that the
public interest requires your coming over to this side of the Hudson
with the Continental troops. * * * * The enemy is evidently changing the
seat of war to this side of the North River, and the inhabitants of this
country will expect the Continental army to give them what support they
can; and failing in that, they will cease to depend upon, or support a
force from which no protection is to be derived. It is, therefore, of
the utmost importance, that at least an appearance of force should be
made, to keep this province in connection with the others.”
In this moment of hurry and agitation, Colonel Reed, also, Washington’s
_fidus Achates_, wrote to Lee, but in a tone and spirit that may
surprise the reader, knowing the devotion he had hitherto manifested for
the commander-in-chief. After expressing the common wish that Lee should
be at the principal scene of action, he adds: “I do not mean to flatter
or praise you, at the expense of any other; but I do think it is
entirely owing to you, that this army, and the liberties of America, so
far as they are dependent on it, are not entirely cut off. You have
decision, a quality often wanting in minds otherwise valuable, and I
ascribe to this our escape from York Island, King’s Bridge, and the
Plains; and I have no doubt, had you been here, the garrison of Mount
Washington would now have composed a part of this army; and from all
these circumstances, I confess, I do ardently wish to see you removed
from a place where there will be so little call for your judgment and
experience, to the place where they are likely to be so necessary. Nor
am I singular in my opinion; every gentleman of the family, the officers
and soldiers generally, have a confidence in you. The enemy constantly
inquire where you are, and seem to be less confident when you are
present.”
Then alluding to the late affair at Fort Washington, he continues:
“General Washington’s own judgment, seconded by representations from us,
would, I believe, have saved the men, and their arms; but, unluckily,
General Greene’s judgment was contrary. This kept the general’s mind in
a state of suspense, till the stroke was struck. Oh, general! An
indecisive mind is one of the greatest misfortunes that can befall an
army; how often have I lamented it this campaign. All circumstances
considered, we are in a very awful and alarming situation; one that
requires the utmost wisdom, and firmness of mind. As soon as the season
will admit, I think yourself and some others, should go to Congress, and
form the plan of the new army. * * * * I must conclude, with my clear
and explicit opinion, that your presence is of the last
importance.”[137]
Well might Washington apprehend that his character and conduct, in the
perplexities in which he was placed, would be liable to be misunderstood
by the public, when the friend of his bosom could so misjudge him.
Reed had evidently been dazzled by the daring spirit and unscrupulous
policy of Lee, who, in carrying out his measures, heeded but little the
counsels of others, or even the orders of government; Washington’s
respect for both, and the caution with which he hesitated in adopting
measures in opposition to them, was stamped by the bold soldier and his
admirers as indecision.
At Hackensack the army did not exceed three thousand men, and they were
dispirited by ill success, and the loss of tents and baggage. They were
without intrenching tools, in a flat country, where there were no
natural fastnesses. Washington resolved, therefore, to avoid any attack
from the enemy, though, by so doing, he must leave a fine and fertile
region open to their ravages; or a plentiful storehouse, from which they
would draw voluntary supplies. A second move was necessary, again to
avoid the danger of being enclosed between two rivers. Leaving three
regiments, therefore, to guard the passes of the Hackensack, and serve
as covering parties, he again decamped, and threw himself on the west
bank of the Passaic, in the neighborhood of Newark.
His army, small as it was, would soon be less. The term of enlistment of
those under General Mercer, from the flying camp, was nearly expired;
and it was not probable that, disheartened as they were by defeats and
losses, exposed to inclement weather, and unaccustomed to military
hardships, they would longer forego the comforts of their homes, to drag
out the residue of a ruinous campaign.
In addition, too, to the superiority of the force that was following
him, the rivers gave the enemy facilities, by means of their shipping,
to throw troops in his rear. In this extremity he cast about in every
direction for assistance. Colonel Reed, on whom he relied as on a second
self, was despatched to Burlington, with a letter to Governor William
Livingston, describing his hazardous situation, and entreating him to
call out a portion of the New Jersey militia; and General Mifflin was
sent to Philadelphia to implore immediate aid from Congress, and the
local authorities.
His main reliance for prompt assistance, however, was upon Lee. On the
24th came a letter from that general, addressed to Colonel Reed.
Washington opened it, as he was accustomed to do, in the absence of that
officer, with letters addressed to him on the business of the army. Lee
was at his old encampment at Northcastle. He had no means, he said, of
crossing at Dobbs’ Ferry, and the round by King’s Ferry would be so
great, that he could not get there in time to answer any purpose. “I
have therefore,” added he, “ordered General Heath, who is close to the
only ferry which can be passed, to detach two thousand men to apprise
his Excellency, and await his further orders; a mode which I flatter
myself will answer better what I conceive to be the spirit of the
orders, than should I move the corps from hence. Withdrawing our troops
from hence would be attended with some very serious consequences, which
at present would be tedious to enumerate; as to myself,” adds he, “I
hope to set out to-morrow.”
A letter of the same date (Nov. 23d), from Lee to James Bowdoin,
president of the Massachusetts council, may throw some light on his
motives for delaying to obey the orders of the commander-in-chief.
“Before the unfortunate affair of Fort Washington,” writes he, “it was
my opinion that the two armies—that on the east, and that on the west
side of the North River—must rest each on its own bottom; that the idea
of detaching and reinforcing from one side to the other, on every motion
of the enemy, was chimerical; but to harbor such a thought in our
present circumstances, is absolute insanity. In this invasion, should
the enemy alter the present direction of their operations, and attempt
to open the passage of the Highlands, or enter New England, I should
never entertain the thought of being succored by the western army. I
know it is impossible. We must, therefore, depend upon ourselves. To
Connecticut and Massachusetts, I shall look for assistance. * * * * * I
hope the cursed job of Fort Washington will occasion no dejection: the
place itself was of no value. For my own part, I am persuaded that if we
only act with common sense, spirit, and decision, the day must be our
own.”
In another letter to Bowdoin, dated on the following day, and enclosing
an extract from Washington’s letter of Nov. 21st, he writes: “Indecision
bids fair for tumbling down the goodly fabric of American freedom, and,
with it, the rights of mankind. ’Twas indecision of Congress prevented
our having a noble army, and on an excellent footing. ’Twas indecision
in our military councils which cost us the garrison of Fort Washington,
the consequence of which must be fatal, unless remedied in time by a
contrary spirit. Enclosed I send you an extract of a letter from the
general, on which you will make your comments; and I have no doubt you
will concur with me in the necessity of raising immediately an army to
save us from perdition. Affairs appear in so important a crisis, that I
think the resolves of the Congress must no longer too nicely weigh with
us. We must save the community, in spite of the ordinances of the
legislature. There are times when we must commit treason against the
laws of the State, for the salvation of the State. The present crisis
demands this brave, virtuous kind of treason.” He urges President
Bowdoin, therefore, to waive all formalities, and not only complete the
regiments prescribed to the province, but to add four companies to each
regiment. “We must not only have a force sufficient to cover your
province, and all these fertile districts, from the insults and
irruptions of the tyrant’s troops, but sufficient to drive ’em out of
all their quarters in the Jerseys, or all is lost. * * * In the mean
time, send up a formidable body of militia, to supply the place of the
Continental troops, which I am ordered to convey over the river. Let
your people be well supplied with blankets, and warm clothes, as I am
determined, by the help of God, to unnest ’em, even in the dead of
winter.”[138]
It is evident Lee considered Washington’s star to be on the decline, and
his own in the ascendant. The “affair of Fort Washington,” and the
“indecision of the commander-in-chief,” were apparently his watchwords.
On the following day (24th), he writes to Washington from Northcastle,
on the subject of removing troops across the Hudson. “I have received
your orders, and shall endeavor to put them in execution, but question
whether I shall be able to carry with me any considerable number; not so
much from a want of zeal in the men, as from their wretched condition
with respect to shoes, stockings, and blankets, which the present bad
weather renders more intolerable. I sent Heath orders to transport two
thousand men across the river, apprise the general, and wait for further
orders; but that great man (as I might have expected) intrenched himself
within the letter of his instructions, and refused to part with a single
file, though I undertook to replace them with a part of my own.” He
concludes by showing that, so far from hurrying to the support of his
commander-in-chief, he was meditating a side blow of his own devising.
“I should march this day with Glover’s brigade; but have just received
intelligence that Rogers’ corps, a part of the light-horse, and another
brigade lie in so exposed a situation, as to present us the fairest
opportunity of carrying them off. If we succeed, it will have a great
effect, and amply compensate for two days’ delay.”
Scarce had Lee sent this letter, when he received one from Washington,
informing him that he had mistaken his views in regard to the troops
required to cross the Hudson; it was his (Lee’s) division that he wanted
to have over. The force under Heath must remain to guard the posts and
passes through the Highlands, the importance of which was so infinitely
great, that there should not be the least possible risk of losing them.
In the same letter Washington, who presumed Lee was by this time at
Peekskill, advised him to take every precaution to come by a safe route,
and by all means to keep between the enemy and the mountains, as he
understood they were taking measures to intercept his march.
Lee’s reply was still from Northcastle. He explained that his idea of
detaching troops from Heath’s division was merely for expedition’s sake,
intending to replace them from his own. The want of carriages and other
causes had delayed him. From the force of the enemy remaining in
Westchester County, he did not conceive the number of them in the
Jerseys to be near so great as Washington was taught to believe. He had
been making a sweep of the country to clear it of the tories. Part of
his army had now moved on, and he would set out on the following day. He
concluded with the assurance, “I shall take care to obey your
Excellency’s orders, in regard to my march, as exactly as possible.”
On the same day, he vents his spleen in a tart letter to Heath. “I
perceive,” writes he, “that you have formed an idea, that should General
Washington remove to the Straits of Magellan, the instructions he left
with you, upon a particular occasion, have, to all intents and purposes,
invested you with a command separate from, and independent of any other
superiors. * * * * That General Heath is by no means to consider himself
obliged to obey the second in command.” He concluded by informing him
that, as the commander-in-chief was now separated from them, he (Lee)
commanded, of course, on this side of the water, and for the future
would, and must be obeyed.
Before receiving this letter, Heath, doubtful whether Washington might
not be pressed, and desirous of having his troops across the Hudson, had
sent off an express to him for explicit instructions on that point, and,
in the mean time, had kept them ready for a move.
General George Clinton, who was with him, and had the safety of the
Hudson at heart, was in an agony of solicitude. “We have been under
marching orders these three days past,” writes he, “and only wait the
directions of General Washington. Should they be to move, all’s over
with the river this season, and, I fear, for ever. General Lee, four or
five days ago, had orders to move with his division across the river.
Instead of so doing, he ordered General Heath to march his men through,
and he would replace them with so many of his. General Heath could not
do this consistent with his instructions, but put his men under marching
orders to wait his Excellency’s orders.” Honest George Clinton was still
perplexed and annoyed by these marchings and countermarchings; and
especially with these incessant retreats. “A strange way of cooking
business!” writes he. “We have no particular accounts yet from
head-quarters, _but I am apt to believe retreating is yet fashionable_.”
The return of the express sent to Washington, relieved Clinton’s anxiety
about the Highlands; reiterating the original order, that the division
under Heath should remain for the protection of the passes.
Washington was still at Newark when, on the 27th, he received Lee’s
letter of the 24th, speaking of his scheme of capturing Rogers the
partisan. Under other circumstances it might have been a sufficient
excuse for his delay, but higher interests were at stake; he immediately
wrote to Lee as follows: “My former letters were so full and explicit,
as to the necessity of your marching as early as possible, that it is
unnecessary to add more on that head. I confess I expected you would
have been sooner in motion. The force here, when joined by yours, will
not be adequate to any great opposition; at present it is weak, and it
has been more owing to the badness of the weather that the enemy’s
progress has been checked, than any resistance we could make. They are
now pushing this way,—part of ’em have passed the Passaic. Their plan is
not entirely unfolded, but I shall not be surprised if Philadelphia
should turn out the object of their movement.”
The situation of the little army was daily becoming more perilous. In a
council of war, several of the members urged a move to Morristown, to
form a junction with the troops expected from the Northern army.
Washington, however, still cherished the idea of making a stand at
Brunswick on the Raritan, or, at all events, of disputing the passage of
the Delaware; and in this intrepid resolution he was warmly seconded by
Greene.
Breaking up his camp once more, therefore, he continued his retreat
towards New Brunswick; but so close was Cornwallis upon him, that his
advance entered one end of Newark, just as the American rear-guard had
left the other.
From Brunswick, Washington wrote on the 29th to William Livingston,
governor of the Jerseys, requesting him to have all boats and river
craft, for seventy miles along the Delaware, removed to the western bank
out of the reach of the enemy, and put under guard. He was disappointed
in his hope of making a stand on the banks of the Raritan. All the force
he could muster at Brunswick, including the New Jersey militia, did not
exceed four thousand men. Colonel Reed had failed in procuring aid from
the New Jersey legislature. That body, shifting from place to place, was
on the eve of dissolution. The term of the Maryland and New Jersey
troops in the flying camp had expired. General Mercer endeavored to
detain them, representing the disgrace of turning their back upon the
cause when the enemy was at hand: his remonstrances were fruitless. As
to the Pennsylvania levies, they deserted in such numbers, that guards
were stationed on the roads and ferries to intercept them.
At this moment of care and perplexity, a letter, forwarded by express,
arrived at head-quarters. It was from General Lee, dated from his camp
at Northcastle, to Colonel Reed, and was in reply to the letter written
by that officer from Hackensack on the 21st, which we have already laid
before the reader. Supposing that it related to official business,
Washington opened it, and read as follows:
“MY DEAR REED:—I received your most obliging, flattering letter; lament
with you that fatal indecision of mind, which in war is a much greater
disqualification than stupidity, or even want of personal courage.
Accident may put a decisive blunderer in the right; but eternal defeat
and miscarriage must attend the man of the best parts, if cursed with
indecision. The General recommends in so pressing a manner as almost to
amount to an order, to bring over the continental troops under my
command, which recommendation, or order, throws me into the greatest
dilemma from several considerations.” After stating these
considerations, he adds: “My reason for not having marched already is,
that we have just received intelligence that Rogers’ corps, the
light-horse, part of the Highlanders, and another brigade, lie in so
exposed a situation as to give the fairest opportunity of being carried.
I should have attempted it last night, but the rain was too violent, and
when our pieces are wet, you know our troops are _hors du combat_. This
night I hope will be better. * * * * * * I only wait myself for this
business of Rogers and company being over. I shall then fly to you; for,
to confess a truth, I really think our chief will do better with me than
without me.”
A glance over this letter sufficed to show Washington that, at this dark
moment, when he most needed support and sympathy, his character and
military conduct were the subject of disparaging comments, between the
friend in whom he had so implicitly confided, and a sarcastic and
apparently self-constituted rival. Whatever may have been his feelings
of wounded pride and outraged friendship, he restrained them, and
enclosed the letter to Reed, with the following chilling note:
“DEAR SIR:—The enclosed was put into my hands by an express from White
Plains. Having no idea of its being a private letter, much less
suspecting the tendency of the correspondence, I opened it; as I have
done all other letters to you from the same place, and Peekskill, upon
the business of your office, as I conceived, and found them to be. This,
as it is the truth, must be my excuse for seeing the contents of a
letter, which neither inclination nor intention would have prompted me
to,” &c.
The very calmness and coldness of this note must have had a greater
effect upon Reed, than could have been produced by the most vehement
reproaches. In subsequent communications, he endeavored to explain away
the offensive paragraphs in Lee’s letter, declaring there was nothing in
his own inconsistent with the respect and affection he had ever borne
for Washington’s person and character.
Fortunately for Reed, Washington never saw that letter. There were
passages in it beyond the reach of softening explanation. As it was, the
purport of it, as reflected in Lee’s reply, had given him a sufficient
shock. His magnanimous nature, however, was incapable of harboring long
resentments; especially in matters relating solely to himself. His
personal respect for Colonel Reed continued; he invariably manifested a
high sense of his merits, and consulted him, as before, on military
affairs; but his hitherto affectionate confidence in him, as a
sympathizing friend, had received an incurable wound. His letters,
before so frequent, and such perfect outpourings of heart and mind,
became few and far between, and confined to matters of business.
It must have been consoling to Washington at this moment of bitterness,
to receive the following letter (dated Nov. 27th) from William
Livingston, the intelligent and patriotic governor of New Jersey. It
showed that while many misjudged him, and friends seemed falling from
his side, others appreciated him truly, and the ordeal he was
undergoing.
“I can easily form some idea of the difficulties under which you labor,”
writes Livingston, “particularly of one for which the public can make no
allowance, because your prudence, and fidelity to the cause, will not
suffer you to reveal it to the public; an instance of magnanimity,
superior, perhaps, to any that can be shown in battle. But depend upon
it, my dear sir, the impartial world will do you ample justice before
long. May God support you under the fatigue, both of body and mind, to
which you must be constantly exposed.”[139]
Washington lingered at Brunswick until the 1st of December, in the vain
hope of being reinforced. The enemy, in the mean time, advanced through
the country, impressing waggons and horses, and collecting cattle and
sheep, as if for a distant march. At length their vanguard appeared on
the opposite side. of the Raritan. Washington immediately broke down the
end of the bridge next the village, and after nightfall resumed his
retreat. In the mean time, as the river was fordable, Captain Alexander
Hamilton planted his field-pieces on high, commanding ground, and opened
a spirited fire, to check any attempt of the enemy to cross.
At Princeton, Washington left twelve hundred men in two brigades, under
Lord Stirling and General Adam Stephen, to cover the country, and watch
the motions of the enemy. Stephen was the same officer that had served
as a colonel under Washington in the French war, as second in command of
the Virginia troops, and had charge of Fort Cumberland. In consideration
of his courage and military capacity, he had, in 1764, been intrusted
with the protection of the frontier. He had recently brought a
detachment of Virginia troops to the army, and received from Congress,
in September, the commission of brigadier-general.
The harassed army reached Trenton on the 2d of December. Washington
immediately proceeded to remove his baggage and stores across the
Delaware. In his letters from this place to the President of Congress,
he gives his reasons for his continued retreat. “Nothing but necessity
obliged me to retire before the enemy, and leave so much of the Jerseys
unprotected. Sorry am I to observe that the frequent calls upon the
militia of this State, the want of exertion in the principal gentlemen
of the country, and a fatal supineness and insensibility of danger, till
it is too late to prevent an evil that was not only foreseen, but
foretold, have been the causes of our late disgraces.
“If the militia of this State had stepped forth in season (and timely
notice they had), we might have prevented the enemy’s crossing the
Hackensack. We might, with equal possibility of success, have made a
stand at Brunswick on the Raritan. But as both these rivers were
fordable in a variety of places, being knee deep only, it required many
men to guard the passes, and these we had not.”
In excuse for the people of New Jersey, it may be observed, that they
inhabited an open, agricultural country, where the sound of war had
never been heard. Many of them looked upon the Revolution as rebellion;
others thought it a ruined enterprise; the armies engaged in it had been
defeated and broken up. They beheld the commander-in-chief retreating
through their country with a handful of men, weary, wayworn, dispirited;
without tents, without clothing, many of them barefooted, exposed to
wintry weather, and driven from post to post, by a well-clad, well-fed,
triumphant force, tricked out in all the glittering bravery of war.
Could it be wondered at, that peaceful husbandmen, seeing their quiet
fields thus suddenly overrun by adverse hosts, and their very
hearthstones threatened with outrage, should, instead of flying to arms,
seek for the safety of their wives and little ones, and the protection
of their humble means, from the desolation which too often marks the
course even of friendly armies?
Lord Howe and his brother sought to profit by this dismay and
despondency. A proclamation, dated 30th of November, commanded all
persons in arms against his majesty’s government, to disband and return
home, and all Congresses to desist from treasonable acts: offering a
free pardon to all who should comply within fifty days.
Many who had been prominent in the cause, hastened to take advantage of
this proclamation. Those who had most property to lose, were the first
to submit. The middle ranks remained generally steadfast in this time of
trial.[140]
The following extract of a letter from a field-officer in New York,
dated Dec. 2d, to his friend in London, gives the British view of
affairs. “The rebels continue flying before our army Lord Cornwallis
took the fort opposite Brunswick, plunged into Raritan River, and seized
the town. Mr. Washington had orders from the Congress to rally and
defend that post, but he sent them word he could not. He was seen
retreating with two brigades to Trenton, where they talk of resisting;
but such a panic has seized the rebels, that no part of the Jerseys will
hold them, and I doubt whether Philadelphia itself will stop their
career. The Congress have lost their authority. * * * * They are in such
consternation that they know not what to do. The two Adamses are in New
England; Franklin gone to France; Lynch has lost his senses; Rutledge
has gone home disgusted; Dana is persecuting at Albany, and Jay’s in the
country playing as bad a part; so that the fools have lost the
assistance of the knaves. However, should they embrace the enclosed
proclamation, they may yet escape the halter. * * * Honest David Mathew,
the mayor, has made his escape from them, and arrived here this
day.”[141]
In this dark day of peril to the cause, and to himself, Washington
remained firm and undaunted. In casting about for some stronghold where
he might make a desperate stand for the liberties of his country, his
thoughts reverted to the mountain regions of his early campaigns.
General Mercer was at hand, who had shared his perils among these
mountains, and his presence may have contributed to bring them to his
mind. “What think you,” said Washington; “if we should retreat to the
back parts of Pennsylvania, would the Pennsylvanians support us?”
“If the lower counties give up, the back counties will do the same,” was
the discouraging reply.
“We must then retire to Augusta County in Virginia,” said Washington.
“Numbers will repair to us for safety, and we will try a predatory war.
If overpowered, we must cross the Alleganies.”
Such was the indomitable spirit, rising under difficulties, and buoyant
in the darkest moment, that kept our tempest-tost cause from foundering.
CHAPTER XLII.
LEE AT PEEKSKILL—STANCH ADHERENCE OF HEATH TO ORDERS—LEE CROSSES THE
HUDSON—WASHINGTON AT TRENTON—LEE AT THE HEELS OF THE ENEMY—HIS
SPECULATIONS ON MILITARY GREATNESS—FORCED MARCH OF CORNWALLIS—WASHINGTON
CROSSES THE DELAWARE—PUTNAM IN COMMAND AT PHILADELPHIA—BAFFLING LETTERS
OF LEE—HOPES TO RECONQUER THE JERSEYS—GATES ON THE MARCH—LEE QUARTERED
AT BASKINGRIDGE—SURPRISED AND CAPTURED—SPECULATIONS ON HIS CONDUCT.
Notwithstanding the repeated and pressing orders and entreaties of the
commander-in-chief, Lee did not reach Peekskill until the 30th of
November. In a letter of that date to Washington, who had complained of
his delay, he simply alleged difficulties, which he would explain _when
both had leisure_. His scheme to entrap Rogers, the renegade, had
failed; the old Indian hunter had been too much on the alert; he
boasted, however, to have rendered more service by his delay, than he
would have done had he moved sooner. His forces were thereby augmented,
so that he expected to enter the Jerseys with four thousand firm and
willing men, who would make _a very important diversion_.
“The day after to-morrow,” added he, “we shall pass the river, when I
should be glad to receive your instructions; but I could wish you would
bind me as little as possible; not from any opinion, I do assure you, of
my own parts, but from a persuasion that detached generals cannot have
too great latitude, unless they are very incompetent indeed.”
Lee had calculated upon meeting no further difficulty in obtaining men
from Heath. He rode to that general’s quarters in the evening, and was
invited by him to alight and take tea. On entering the house, Lee took
Heath aside, and alluding to his former refusal to supply troops as
being inconsistent with the orders of the commander-in-chief, “in point
of _law_,” said he, “you are right, but in point of policy I think you
are wrong. I am going into the Jerseys for the salvation of America; I
wish to take with me a larger force than I now have, and request you to
order two thousand of your men to march with me.”
Heath answered that he could not spare that number. He was then asked to
order one thousand; to which he replied, that the business might be as
well brought to a point at once—that not a single man should march from
the post by _his_ order. “Then,” exclaimed Lee, “I will order them
myself.” “That makes a wide difference,” rejoined Heath. “You are my
senior, but I have received positive written instructions from him who
is superior to us both, and I will not _myself_ break those orders.” In
proof of his words, Heath produced the recent letter received from
Washington, repeating his former orders that no troops should be removed
from that post. Lee glanced over the letter. “The commander-in-chief is
now at a distance, and does not know what is necessary here so well as I
do.” He asked a sight of the return book of the division. It was brought
by Major Huntington, the deputy adjutant-general. Lee ran his eye over
it, and chose two regiments. “You will order them to march early
to-morrow morning to join me,” said he to the major. Heath, ruffling
with the pride of military law, turned to the major with an air of
authority. “Issue such orders at your peril!” exclaimed he: then
addressing Lee, “Sir,” said he, “if you come to this post, and mean to
issue orders here which will break the positive ones I have received, I
pray you do it completely yourself, and through your own deputy
adjutant-general who is present, and not draw me or any of my family in
as partners in the guilt.”
“It is right,” said Lee; “Colonel Scammel, do you issue the order.” It
was done accordingly; but Heath’s punctilious scruples were not yet
satisfied. “I have one more request to make, sir,” said he to Lee, “and
that is, that you will be pleased to give me a certificate that you
_exercise command_ at this post, and order from it these regiments.”
Lee hesitated to comply, but George Clinton, who was present, told him
he could not refuse a request so reasonable. He accordingly wrote, “For
the satisfaction of General Heath, and at his request, I do certify that
I am commanding officer, at this present writing, in this post, and that
I have, in that capacity, ordered Prescott’s and Wyllis’s regiments to
march.”
Heath’s military punctilio was satisfied, and he smoothed his ruffled
plumes. Early the next morning the regiments moved from their
cantonments ready to embark, when Lee again rode up to his door. “Upon
further consideration,” said he, “I have concluded not to take the two
regiments with me—you may order them to return to their former post.”
“This conduct of General Lee,” adds Heath in his memoirs, “appeared not
a little extraordinary, and one is almost at a loss to account for it.
He had been a soldier from his youth, had a perfect knowledge of service
in all its branches, but was rather obstinate in his temper, and could
scarcely brook being crossed in any thing in the line of his
profession.”[142]
It was not until the 4th of December, that Lee crossed the Hudson and
began a laggard march, though aware of the imminent peril of Washington
and his army—how different from the celerity of his movements in his
expedition to the South!
In the meantime, Washington, who was at Trenton, had profited by a delay
of the enemy at Brunswick, and removed most of the stores and baggage of
the army across the Delaware; and, being reinforced by fifteen hundred
of the Pennsylvania militia, procured by Mifflin, prepared to face
about, and march back to Princeton with such of his troops as were fit
for service, there to be governed by circumstances, and the movements of
General Lee. Accordingly, on the 5th of December he sent about twelve
hundred men in the advance, to reinforce Lord Stirling, and the next day
set off himself with the residue.
“The general has gone forward to Princeton,” writes Colonel Reed, “where
there are about three thousand men, with which, I fear, he will not be
able to make any stand.”[143]
While on the march, Washington received a letter from Greene, who was at
Princeton, informing him of a report that Lee was “at the heels of the
enemy.” “I should think,” adds Greene, “he had better keep on the flanks
than the rear, unless it were possible to concert an attack at the same
instant of time in front and rear. * * * I think General Lee must be
confined within the lines of some general plan, or else his operations
will be independent of yours. His own troops, General St. Clair’s, and
the militia, must form a respectable army.”
Lee had no idea of conforming to a general plan; he had an independent
plan of his own, and was at that moment at Pompton, indulging
speculations on military greatness, and the lamentable want of it in his
American contemporaries. In a letter from that place to Governor Cooke
of Rhode Island, he imparts his notions on the subject. “Theory joined
to practice, or a heaven-born genius, can alone constitute a general. As
to the latter, God Almighty indulges the modern world very rarely with
the spectacle; and I do not know, from what I have seen, that he has
been more profuse of this ethereal spirit to the Americans, than to
other nations.”
While Lee was thus loitering and speculating, Cornwallis, knowing how
far he was in the rear, and how weak was the situation of Washington’s
army, and being himself strongly reinforced, made a forced march from
Brunswick, and was within two miles of Princeton. Stirling, to avoid
being surrounded, immediately set out with two brigades for Trenton.
Washington, too, receiving intelligence by express of these movements,
hastened back to that place, and caused boats to be collected from all
quarters, and the stores and troops transported across the Delaware. He
himself crossed with the rear-guard on Sunday morning, and took up his
quarters about a mile from the river; causing the boats to be destroyed,
and troops to be posted opposite the fords. He was conscious, however,
as he said, that with his small force he could make no great opposition,
should the enemy bring boats with them. Fortunately they did not come
thus provided.
The rear-guard, says an American account, had barely crossed the river,
when Lord Cornwallis “came marching down with all the pomp of war, in
great expectation of getting boats, and immediately pursuing.” Not one
was to be had there or elsewhere; for Washington had caused the boats,
for an extent of seventy miles up and down the river, to be secured on
the right bank. His lordship was effectually brought to a stand. He made
some moves with two columns, as if he would cross the Delaware above and
below, either to push on to Philadelphia, or to entrap Washington in the
acute angle made by the bend of the river opposite Bordentown. An able
disposition of American troops along the upper part of the river, and of
a number of galleys below, discouraged any attempt of the kind.
Cornwallis, therefore, gave up the pursuit, distributed the German
troops in cantonments along the left bank of the river, and stationed
his main force at Brunswick, trusting to be able before long to cross
the Delaware on the ice.
On the 8th, Washington wrote to the President of Congress: “There is not
a moment’s time to be lost in assembling such a force as can be
collected, as the object of the enemy cannot now be doubted in the
smallest degree. Indeed, I shall be out in my conjecture, for it is only
conjecture, if the late embarkation at New York is not for Delaware
River, to co-operate with the army under General Howe, who, I am
informed from good authority, is with the British troops, and his whole
force upon this route. I have no certain intelligence of General Lee,
although I have sent expresses to him, and lately a Colonel Humpton, to
bring me some accurate accounts of his situation. I last night
despatched another gentleman to him (Major Hoops), desiring he would
hasten his march to the Delaware, on which I would provide boats near a
place called Alexandria, for the transportation of his troops. I cannot
account for the slowness of his march.”
In further letters to Lee, Washington urged the peril of Philadelphia.
“Do come on,” writes he; “your arrival may be fortunate, and, if it can
be effected without delay, it may be the means of preserving a city,
whose loss must prove of the most fatal consequence to the cause of
America.”
Putnam was now detached to take command of Philadelphia, and put it in a
state of defence, and General Mifflin to have charge of the munitions of
war deposited there. By their advice Congress hastily adjourned on the
12th of December, to meet again on the 20th, at Baltimore.
Washington’s whole force at this time, was about five thousand five
hundred men; one thousand of them Jersey militia, fifteen hundred
militia from Philadelphia, and a battalion of five hundred of the German
yeomanry of Pennsylvania. Gates, however, he was informed, was coming on
with seven regiments detached by Schuyler from the Northern department;
reinforced by these, and the troops under Lee, he hoped to be able to
attempt a stroke upon the enemy’s forces, which lay a good deal
scattered, and to all appearances, in a state of security. “A lucky blow
in this quarter,” writes he, “would be fatal to them, and would most
certainly raise the spirits of the people, which are quite sunk by our
late misfortunes.”[144]
While cheering himself with these hopes, and trusting to speedy aid from
Lee, that wayward commander, though nearly three weeks had elapsed since
he had received Washington’s orders and entreaties to join him with all
possible despatch, was no farther on his march than Morristown, in the
Jerseys; where, with militia recruits, his force was about four thousand
men. In a letter written by him on the 8th of December to a committee of
Congress, he says: “If I was not taught to think the army with General
Washington had been considerably reinforced, I should immediately join
him; but as I am assured he is very strong, I should imagine we can make
a better impression by beating up and harassing their detached parties
in their rear, for which purpose, a good post at Chatham seems the best
calculated. It is a happy distance from Newark, Elizabethtown,
Woodbridge and Boundbrook. We shall, I expect, annoy, distract, and
consequently weaken them in a desultory war.”[145]
On the same day he writes from Chatham, in reply to Washington’s letter
by Major Hoops, just received: “I am extremely shocked to hear that your
force is so inadequate to the necessity of your situation, as I had been
taught to think you had been considerably reinforced. Your last letters
proposing a plan of surprises and forced marches, convinced me that
there was no danger of your being obliged to pass the Delaware; in
consequence of which proposals, I have put myself in a position the most
convenient to co-operate with you by attacking their rear. I cannot
persuade myself that Philadelphia is their object at present. * * * It
will be difficult, I am afraid, to join you; but cannot I do you more
service by attacking their rear?”
This letter, sent by a light-horseman, received an instant reply from
Washington. “Philadelphia, beyond all question, is the object of the
enemy’s movements, and nothing less than our utmost exertions will
prevent General Howe from possessing it. The force I have is weak, and
utterly incompetent to that end. I must, therefore, entreat you to push
on with every possible succor you can bring.”[146]
On the 9th, Lee, who was at Chatham, receives information from Heath,
that three of the regiments detached under Gates from the Northern army,
had arrived from Albany at Peekskill. He instantly writes to him to
forward them, without loss of time, to Morristown: “I am in hopes,” adds
he, “to reconquer (if I may so express myself) the Jerseys. It was
really in the hands of the enemy before my arrival.”
On the 11th, Lee writes to Washington from Morristown, where he says his
troops had been obliged to halt two days for want of shoes. He now
talked of crossing the great Brunswick post-road, and, by a forced
night’s march, making his way to the ferry above Burlington, where boats
should be sent up from Philadelphia to receive him.
“I am much surprised,” writes Washington in reply, “that you should be
in any doubt respecting the route you should take, after the information
you have received upon that head. A large number of boats was procured,
and is still retained at Tinicum, under a strong guard, to facilitate
your passage across the Delaware. I have so frequently mentioned our
situation, and the necessity of your aid, that it is painful for me to
add a word on the subject. * * * Congress have directed Philadelphia to
be defended to the last extremity. The fatal consequences that must
attend its loss, are but too obvious to every one; your arrival may be
the means of saving it.”
In detailing the close of General Lee’s march, so extraordinary for its
tardiness, we shall avail ourselves of the memoir already cited of
General Wilkinson, who was at that time a brigade major, about
twenty-two years of age, and was accompanying General Gates, who had
been detached by Schuyler with seven regiments to reinforce Washington.
Three of these regiments, as we have shown, had descended the Hudson to
Peekskill, and were ordered by Lee to Morristown. Gates had embarked
with the remaining four, and landed with them at Esopus, whence he took
a back route by the Delaware and the Minisink.
On the 11th of December, he was detained by a heavy snow storm, in a
sequestered valley near the Wallpeck in New Jersey. Being cut off from
all information respecting the adverse armies, he detached Major
Wilkinson to seek Washington’s camp, with a letter, stating the force
under his command, and inquiring what route he should take. Wilkinson
crossed the hills on horseback to Sussex court-house, took a guide, and
proceeded down the country. Washington, he soon learnt, had passed the
Delaware several days before; the boats, he was told, had been removed
from the ferries, so that he would find some difficulty in getting over,
but Major-general Lee was at Morristown. Finding such obstacles in his
way to the commander-in-chief, he determined to seek the second in
command, and ask orders from him for General Gates. Lee had decamped
from Morristown on the 12th of December, but had marched no further than
Vealtown, barely eight miles distant. There he left General Sullivan
with the troops, while he took up his quarters three miles off, at a
tavern, at Baskingridge. As there was not a British cantonment within
twenty miles, he took but a small guard for his protection, thinking
himself perfectly secure.
About four o’clock in the morning, Wilkinson arrived at his quarters. He
was presented to the general as he lay in bed, and delivered into his
hands the letter of General Gates. Lee, observing it was addressed to
Washington, declined opening it, until apprised by Wilkinson of its
contents, and the motives of his visit. He then broke the seal, and
recommended Wilkinson to take repose. The latter lay down on his
blanket, before a comfortable fire, among the officers of his suite;
“for we were not encumbered in those days,” says he, “with beds or
baggage.”
Lee, naturally indolent, lingered in bed until eight o’clock. He then
came down in his usual slovenly style, half-dressed, in slippers and
blanket coat, his collar open, and his linen apparently of some days’
wear. After some inquiries about the campaign in the North, he gave
Wilkinson a brief account of the operations of the main army, which he
condemned in strong terms, and in his usual sarcastic way. He wasted the
morning in altercation with some of the militia, particularly the
Connecticut light-horse; “several of whom,” says Wilkinson, “appeared in
large, full-buttoned perukes, and were treated very irreverently. One
wanted forage, another his horse shod, another his pay, a fourth
provisions, &c.; to which the general replied, ’Your wants are numerous;
but you have not mentioned the last,—you want to go home, and shall be
indulged; for d— you, you do no good here.’”
Colonel Scammel, the adjutant-general, called from General Sullivan for
orders concerning the morning’s march. After musing a moment or two, Lee
asked him if he had a manuscript map of the country. It was produced,
and spread upon a table. Wilkinson observed Lee trace with his finger
the route from Vealtown to Pluckamin, thence to Somerset court-house,
and on, by Rocky Hill, to Princeton; he then returned to Pluckamin, and
traced the route in the same manner by Boundbrook to Brunswick, and
after a close inspection carelessly said to Scammel, “Tell General
Sullivan to move down towards Pluckamin; that I will soon be with him.”
This, observes Wilkinson, was off his route to Alexandria on the
Delaware, where he had been ordered to cross, and directly on that
towards Brunswick and Princeton. He was convinced, therefore, that Lee
meditated an attack on the British post at the latter place.
From these various delays they did not sit down to breakfast before ten
o’clock. After breakfast Lee sat writing a reply to General Gates, in
which, as usual, he indulged in sarcastic comments on the
commander-in-chief. “The ingenious manœuvre of Fort Washington,” writes
he, “has completely unhinged the goodly fabric we had been building.
There never was so d—d a stroke; _entre nous_, a certain great man is
most damnably deficient. He has thrown me into a situation where I have
my choice of difficulties: if I stay in this province I risk myself and
army; and if I do not stay, the province is lost for ever. * * * * * As
to what relates to yourself, if you think you can be in time to aid the
general, I would have you by all means go; you will at least save your
army,” &c.[147]
While Lee was writing, Wilkinson was looking out of a window down a
lane, about a hundred yards in length, leading from the house to the
main road. Suddenly a party of British dragoons turned a corner of the
avenue at a full charge. “Here, sir, are the British cavalry!” exclaimed
Wilkinson. “Where?” replied Lee, who had just signed his letter. “Around
the house!”—for they had opened file and surrounded it. “Where is the
guard? d— the guard, why don’t they fire?” Then after a momentary
pause—“Do, sir, see what has become of the guard.”
The guards, alas, unwary as their general, and chilled by the air of a
frosty morning, had stacked their arms, and repaired to the south side
of a house on the opposite side of the road to sun themselves, and were
now chased by the dragoons in different directions. In fact, a tory, who
had visited the general the evening before, to complain of the loss of a
horse taken by the army, having found where Lee was to lodge and
breakfast, had ridden eighteen miles in the night to Brunswick and given
the information, and had piloted back Colonel Harcourt with his
dragoons.[148]
The women of the house would fain have concealed Lee in a bed, but he
rejected the proposition with disdain. Wilkinson, according to his own
account, posted himself in a place where only one person could approach
at a time, and there took his stand, a pistol in each hand, resolved to
shoot the first and second assailant, and then appeal to his sword.
While in this “unpleasant situation,” as he terms it, he heard a voice
declare, “If the general does not surrender in five minutes, I will set
fire to the house!” After a short pause the threat was repeated, with a
solemn oath. Within two minutes he heard it proclaimed, “Here is the
general, he has surrendered.”
There was a shout of triumph, but a great hurry to make sure of the
prize before the army should arrive to the rescue. A trumpet sounded the
recall to the dragoons, who were chasing the scattered guards. The
general, bareheaded, and in his slippers and blanket coat, was mounted
on Wilkinson’s horse, which stood at the door, and the troop clattered
off with their prisoner to Brunswick. In three hours the booming of
cannon in that direction told the exultation of the enemy.[149] They
boasted of having taken the American Palladium; for they considered Lee
the most scientific and experienced of the rebel generals.
On the departure of the troops, Wilkinson, finding the coast clear,
ventured from his stronghold, repaired to the stable, mounted the first
horse he could find, and rode full speed in quest of General Sullivan,
whom he found under march toward Pluckamin. He handed him the letter to
Gates, written by Lee the moment before his capture, and still open.
Sullivan having read it, returned it to Wilkinson, and advised him to
rejoin General Gates without delay: for his own part, being now in
command, he changed his route, and pressed forward to join the
commander-in-chief.
The loss of Lee was a severe shock to the Americans; many of whom, as we
have shown, looked to him as the man who was to rescue them from their
critical, and well-nigh desperate situation. With their regrets,
however, were mingled painful doubts, caused by his delay in obeying the
repeated summons of his commander-in-chief, when the latter was in
peril; and by his exposing himself so unguardedly in the very
neighborhood of the enemy. Some at first suspected that he had done so
designedly, and with collusion; but this was soon disproved by the
indignities attending his capture, and his rigorous treatment
subsequently by the British; who affected to consider him a deserter,
from his having formerly served in their army.
Wilkinson, who was at that time conversant with the cabals of the camp,
and apparently in the confidence of some of the leaders, points out what
he considers the true secret of Lee’s conduct. His military reputation,
originally very high, had been enhanced of late, by its being generally
known that he had been opposed to the occupation of Fort Washington;
while the fall of that fortress and other misfortunes of the campaign,
though beyond the control of the commander-in-chief, had quickened the
discontent which, according to Wilkinson, had been generated against him
at Cambridge, and raised a party against him in Congress. “It was
confidently asserted at the time,” adds he, “but is not worthy of
credit, that a motion had been made in that body tending to supersede
him in the command of the army. In this temper of the times, if General
Lee had anticipated General Washington in cutting the cordon of the
enemy between New York and the Delaware, the commander-in-chief would
probably have been superseded. In this case, Lee would have succeeded
him.”
What an unfortunate change would it have been for the country! Lee was
undoubtedly a man of brilliant talents, shrewd sagacity, and much
knowledge and experience in the art of war; but he was wilful and
uncertain in his temper, self-indulgent in his habits, and an egoist in
warfare; boldly dashing for a soldier’s glory rather than warily acting
for a country’s good. He wanted those great moral qualities which, in
addition to military capacity, inspired such universal confidence in the
wisdom, rectitude and patriotism of Washington, enabling him to direct
and control legislative bodies as well as armies; to harmonize the
jarring passions and jealousies of a wide and imperfect confederacy, and
to cope with the varied exigencies of the Revolution.
The very retreat which Washington had just effected through the Jerseys
bore evidence to his generalship. Thomas Paine, who had accompanied the
army “from Fort Lee to the edge of Pennsylvania,” thus speaks in one of
his writings published at the time: “With a handful of men we sustained
an orderly retreat for near an hundred miles, brought off our
ammunition, all our field-pieces, the greatest part of our stores, and
had four rivers to pass. None can say that our retreat was precipitate,
for we were three weeks in performing it, that the country might have
time to come in. Twice we marched back to meet the enemy, and remained
out until dark. The sign of fear was not seen in our camp; and had not
some of the cowardly and disaffected inhabitants spread false alarms
through the country, the Jerseys had never been ravaged.”
And this is his testimony to the moral qualities of the
commander-in-chief, as evinced in this time of perils and hardships.
“Voltaire has remarked, that King William never appeared to full
advantage but in difficulties and in action. The same remark may be made
of General Washington, for the character fits him. There is a natural
firmness in some minds, which cannot be unlocked by trifles; but which,
when unlocked, discovers a cabinet of fortitude; and I reckon it among
those kinds of public blessings which we do not immediately see, that
God hath blessed him with uninterrupted health, and given him a mind
that can even flourish upon care.”[150]
CHAPTER XLIII.
WASHINGTON CLOTHED WITH ADDITIONAL POWERS—RECRUITMENT OF THE
ARMY—INCREASED PAY—COLONEL JOHN CADWALADER—ARRIVAL OF
SULLIVAN—GATES—WILKINSON—A COUP DE MAIN MEDITATED—POSTURE OF AFFAIRS AT
TRENTON—GATES DECLINES TO TAKE A PART—HIS COMMENTS ON WASHINGTON’S
PLANS—PREPARATIONS FOR THE COUP DE MAIN—CROSSING OF THE DELAWARE—ATTACK
ON THE ENEMY’S FORCES AT TRENTON—DEATH OF RAHL—HIS CHARACTER.
“Before you receive this letter,” writes Washington to his brother
Augustine, “you will undoubtedly have heard of the captivity of General
Lee. This is an additional misfortune; and the more vexatious, as it was
by his own folly and imprudence, and without a view to effect any good
that he was taken. As he went to lodge three miles out of his own camp,
and within twenty miles of the enemy, a rascally tory rode in the night
to give notice of it to the enemy, who sent a party of light-horse that
seized him, and carried him off with every mark of triumph and
indignity.”
This is the severest comment that the magnanimous spirit of Washington
permitted him to make on the conduct and fortunes of the man who would
have supplanted him; and this is made in his private correspondence with
his brother. No harsh strictures on them appear in his official letters
to Congress or the Board of War; nothing but regret for his capture, as
a loss to the service.
In the same letter he speaks of the critical state of affairs: “If every
nerve is not strained to recruit the army with all possible expedition,
I think the game is pretty nearly up. * * * You can form no idea of the
perplexity of my situation. No man I believe ever had a greater choice
of evils and less means to extricate himself from them. However, under a
full persuasion of the justice of our cause, I cannot entertain an idea
that it will finally sink, though it may remain for some time under a
cloud.”
Fortunately, Congress, prior to their adjournment, had resolved that
“until they should otherwise order, General Washington should be
possessed of all power to order and direct all things relative to the
department and to the operations of war.” Thus empowered, he proceeded
immediately to recruit three battalions of artillery. To those whoso
terms were expiring, he promised an augmentation of twenty-five per
cent. upon their pay, and a bounty of ten dollars to the men for six
weeks’ service. “It was no time,” he said, “to stand upon expense; nor
in matters of self-evident exigency, to refer to Congress at the
distance of a hundred and thirty or forty miles.” “If any good officers
will offer to raise men upon continental pay and establishment in this
quarter, I shall encourage them to do so, and regiment them when they
have done it. It may be thought that I am going a good deal out of the
line of my duty, to adopt these measures, or to advise thus freely. A
character to lose, an estate to forfeit, the inestimable blessings of
liberty at stake, and a life devoted, must be my excuse.”[151]
The promise of increased pay and bounties, had kept together for a time
the dissolving army. The local militia began to turn out freely. Colonel
John Cadwalader, a gentleman of gallant spirit, and cultivated mind and
manners, brought a large volunteer detachment, well equipped, and
composed principally of Philadelphia troops. Washington, who held
Cadwalader in high esteem, assigned him an important station at Bristol,
with Colonel Reed, who was his intimate friend, as an associate. They
had it in charge to keep a watchful eye upon Count Donop’s Hessians, who
were cantoned along the opposite shore from Bordentown to the Black
Horse.
On the 20th of December arrived General Sullivan in camp, with the
troops recently commanded by the unlucky Lee. They were in a miserable
plight; destitute of almost every thing; many of them fit only for the
hospital, and those whose terms were nearly out, thinking of nothing but
their discharge. About four hundred of them, who were Rhode Islanders,
were sent down under Colonel Hitchcock to reinforce Cadwalader; who was
now styled brigadier-general by courtesy, lest the Continental troops
might object to act under his command.
On the same day arrived General Gates, with the remnants of four
regiments from the Northern army. With him came Wilkinson, who now
resumed his station as brigade major in St. Clair’s brigade, to which he
belonged. To his Memoirs we are indebted for notices of the
commander-in-chief. “When the divisions of Sullivan and Gates joined
General Washington,” writes Wilkinson, “he found his numbers increased,
yet his difficulties were not sensibly diminished; ten days would
disband his corps and leave him 1,400 men, miserably provided in all
things I saw him in that gloomy period; dined with him, and attentively
marked his aspect; always grave and thoughtful, he appeared at that time
pensive and solemn in the extreme.”
There were vivid schemes forming under that solemn aspect. The time
seemed now propitious for the _coup de main_ which Washington had of
late been meditating. Every thing showed careless confidence on the part
of the enemy. Howe was in winter quarters at New York. His troops were
loosely cantoned about the Jerseys, from the Delaware to Brunswick, so
that they could not readily be brought to act in concert on a sudden
alarm. The Hessians were in the advance, stationed along the Delaware,
facing the American lines, which were along the west bank. Cornwallis,
thinking his work accomplished, had obtained leave of absence, and was
likewise at New York, preparing to embark for England. Washington had
now between five and six thousand men fit for service; with these he
meditated to cross the river at night, at different points, and make
simultaneous attacks upon the Hessian advance posts.
He calculated upon the eager support of his troops, who were burning to
revenge the outrages on their homes and families, committed by these
foreign mercenaries. They considered the Hessians mere hirelings; slaves
to a petty despot, fighting for sordid pay, and actuated by no sentiment
of patriotism or honor. They had rendered themselves the horror of the
Jerseys, by rapine, brutality, and heartlessness. At first, their
military discipline had inspired awe, but of late they had become
careless and unguarded, knowing the broken and dispirited state of the
Americans, and considering them incapable of any offensive enterprise.
A brigade of three Hessian regiments, those of Rahl,[152] Lossberg, and
Knyphausen, was stationed at Trenton. Colonel Rahl had the command of
the post at his own solicitation, and in consequence of the laurels he
had gained at White Plains and Fort Washington. We have before us
journals of two Hessian lieutenants and a corporal, which give graphic
particulars of the colonel and his post. According to their
representations, he, with all his bravery, was little fitted for such an
important command. He lacked the necessary vigilance and forecast.
One of the lieutenants speaks of him in a sarcastic vein, and evidently
with some degree of prejudice. According to his account, there was more
bustle than business at the post. The men were harassed with watches,
detachments, and pickets, without purpose and without end. The cannon
must be drawn forth every day from their proper places, and paraded
about the town, seemingly only to make a stir and uproar.
The lieutenant was especially annoyed by the colonel’s passion for
music. Whether his men when off duty were well or ill clad, whether they
kept their muskets clean and bright, and their ammunition in good order,
was of little moment to the colonel, he never inquired about it;—but the
music! that was the thing! the hautboys—he never could have enough of
them. The main guard was at no great distance from his quarters, and the
music could not linger there long enough. There was a church close by,
surrounded by palings; the officer on guard must march round and round
it, with his men and musicians, looking, says the lieutenant, like a
Catholic procession, wanting only the cross and the banner, and chanting
choristers.
According to the same authority, Rahl was a boon companion; made merry
until a late hour in the night, and then lay in bed until nine o’clock
in the morning. When the officers came to parade between ten end eleven
o’clock, and presented themselves at head-quarters, he was often in his
bath, and the guard must be kept waiting half an hour longer. On parade,
too, when any other commander would take occasion to talk with his staff
officers and others upon duty about the concerns of the garrison, the
colonel attended to nothing but the music—he was wrapped up in it to the
great disgust of the testy lieutenant.
And then, according to the latter, he took no precautions against the
possibility of being attacked. A veteran officer, Major Von Dechow,
proposed that some works should be thrown up, where the cannon might be
placed, ready against any assault. “Works!—pooh—pooh:”—the colonel made
merry with the very idea—using an unseemly jest, which we forbear to
quote. “An assault by the rebels! Let them come! We’ll at them with the
bayonet.”
The veteran Dechow gravely persisted in his counsel. “Herr Colonel,”
said he, respectfully, “it costs almost nothing; if it does not help, it
does not harm.” The pragmatical lieutenant, too, joined in the advice,
and offered to undertake the work. The jovial colonel only repeated his
joke, went away laughing at them both, and no works were thrown up.
The lieutenant, sorely nettled, observes sneeringly: “He believed the
name of Rahl more fearful and redoubtable than all the works of Vauban
and Cohorn, and that no rebel would dare to encounter it. A fit man
truly to command a corps! and still more to defend a place lying so near
an enemy having a hundred times his advantages. Every thing with him was
done heedlessly and without forecast.”[153]
Such is the account given of this brave, but inconsiderate and
light-hearted commander; given, however, by an officer not of his
regiment. The honest corporal already mentioned, who was one of Rahl’s
own men, does him more justice. According to his journal, rumors that
the Americans meditated an attack had aroused the vigilance of the
colonel, and on the 21st of December he had reconnoitred the banks of
the Delaware, with a strong detachment, quite to Frankfort, to see if
there were any movements of the Americans indicative of an intention to
cross the river. He had returned without seeing any; but had since
caused pickets and alarm posts to be stationed every night outside the
town.[154]
Such was the posture of affairs at Trenton at the time the _coup de
main_ was meditated.
Whatever was to be done, however, must be done quickly, before the river
was frozen. An intercepted letter had convinced Washington of what he
had before suspected, that Howe was only waiting for that event to
resume active operations, cross the river on the ice, and push on
triumphantly to Philadelphia.
He communicated his project to Gates, and wished him to go to Bristol,
take command there, and co-operate from that quarter. Gates, however,
pleaded ill health, and requested leave to proceed to Philadelphia.
The request may have surprised Washington, considering the spirited
enterprise that was on foot; but Gates, as has before been observed, had
a disinclination to serve immediately under the commander-in-chief; like
Lee, he had a disparaging opinion of him, or rather an impatience of his
supremacy. He had, moreover, an ulterior object in view. Having been
disappointed and chagrined, in finding himself subordinate to General
Schuyler in the Northern campaign, he was now intent on making interest
among the members of Congress for an independent command. Washington
urged that, on his way to Philadelphia, he would at least stop for a day
or two at Bristol, to concert a plan of operations with Reed and
Cadwalader, and adjust any little questions of etiquette and command
that might arise between the continental colonels who had gone thither
with Lee’s troops and the volunteer officers stationed there.[155]
He does not appear to have complied even with this request. According to
Wilkinson’s account, he took quarters at Newtown, and set out thence for
Baltimore on the 24th of December, the very day before that of the
intended _coup de main_. He prevailed on Wilkinson to accompany him as
far as Philadelphia. On the road he appeared to be much depressed in
spirits; but he relieved himself, like Lee, by criticising the plans of
the commander-in-chief. “He frequently,” writes Wilkinson, “expressed
the opinion that, while Washington was watching the enemy above Trenton,
they would construct bateaux, pass the Delaware in his rear, and take
possession of Philadelphia before he was aware; and that, instead of
vainly attempting to stop Sir William Howe at the Delaware, General
Washington ought to retire to the south of the Susquehanna, and there
form an army. _He said it was his intention to propose this measure to
Congress at Baltimore_, and urged me to accompany him to that place; but
my duty forbade the thought.”
Here we have somewhat of a counterpart to Lee’s project of eclipsing the
commander-in-chief. Evidently the two military veterans who had once
been in conclave with him at Mount Vernon, considered the truncheon of
command falling from his grasp.
The projected attack upon the Hessian posts was to be threefold.
1st. Washington was to cross the Delaware with a considerable force, at
McKonkey’s Ferry (now Taylorsville), about nine miles above Trenton, and
march down upon that place, where Rahl’s cantonment comprised a brigade
of fifteen hundred Hessians, a troop of British light-horse, and a
number of chasseurs.
2d. General Ewing, with a body of Pennsylvania militia, was to cross at
a ferry about a mile below Trenton; secure the bridge over the Assunpink
creek, a stream flowing along the south side of the town, and cut off
any retreat of the enemy in that direction.
3d. General Putnam, with the troops occupied in fortifying Philadelphia,
and those under General Cadwalader, was to cross below Burlington, and
attack the lower posts under Count Donop. The several divisions were to
cross the Delaware at night, so as to be ready for simultaneous action,
by five o’clock in the morning.
Seldom is a combined plan carried into full operation. Symptoms of an
insurrection in Philadelphia, obliged Putnam to remain with some force
in that city; but he detached five or six hundred of the Pennsylvania
militia under Colonel Griffin, his adjutant-general, who threw himself
into the Jerseys, to be at hand to co-operate with Cadwalader.
A letter from Washington to Colonel Reed, who was stationed with
Cadwalader, shows the anxiety of his mind, and his consciousness of the
peril of the enterprise.
“Christmas day at night, one hour before day, is the time fixed upon for
our attempt upon Trenton. For Heaven’s sake keep this to yourself, as
the discovery of it may prove fatal to us; our numbers, I am sorry to
say, being less than I had any conception of; yet nothing but necessity,
dire necessity, will, nay must, justify an attack. Prepare, and in
concert with Griffin, attack as many of their posts as you possibly can,
with a prospect of success; the more we can attack at the same instant,
the more confusion we shall spread, and the greater good will result
from it. * * I have ordered our men to be provided with three days’
provision ready cooked, with which, and their blankets, they are to
march; for if we are successful, which Heaven grant, and the
circumstances favor, we may push on. I shall direct every ferry and ford
to be well guarded, and not a soul suffered to pass without an officer’s
going down with the permit. Do the same with you.”
It has been said that Christmas night was fixed upon for the enterprise,
because the Germans are prone to revel and carouse on that festival, and
it was supposed a great part of the troops would be intoxicated, and in
a state of disorder and confusion; but in truth Washington would have
chosen an earlier day, had it been in his power. “We could not ripen
matters for the attack before the time mentioned,” said he in his letter
to Reed, “so much out of sorts, and so much in want of every thing are
the troops under Sullivan.”
Early on the eventful evening (Dec. 25th), the troops destined for
Washington’s part of the attack, about two thousand four hundred strong,
with a train of twenty small pieces, were paraded near McKonkey’s Ferry,
ready to pass as soon as it grew dark, in the hope of being all on the
other side by twelve o’clock. Washington repaired to the ground
accompanied by Generals Greene, Sullivan, Mercer, Stephen, and Lord
Stirling. Greene was full of ardor for the enterprise; eager, no doubt,
to wipe out the recollection of Fort Washington. It was, indeed, an
anxious moment for all.
We have here some circumstances furnished to us by the Memoirs of
Wilkinson. That officer had returned from Philadelphia, and brought a
letter from Gates to Washington. There was some snow on the ground, and
he had traced the march of the troops for the last few miles by the
blood from the feet of those whose shoes were broken. Being directed to
Washington’s quarters, he found him, he says, alone, with his whip in
his hand, prepared to mount his horse. “When I presented the letter of
General Gates to him, before receiving it, he exclaimed with
solemnity,—’What a time is this to hand me letters!’ I answered that I
had been charged with it by General Gates. ’By General Gates! Where is
he?’ ’I left him this morning in Philadelphia.’ ’What was he doing
there?’ ’I understood him that he was on his way to Congress.’ He
earnestly repeated, ’On his way to Congress!’ then broke the seal, and I
made my bow, and joined General St. Clair on the bank of the river.”
Did Washington surmise the incipient intrigues and cabals, that were
already aiming to undermine him? Had Gates’s eagerness to push on to
Congress, instead of remaining with the army in a moment of daring
enterprise, suggested any doubts as to his object? Perhaps not.
Washington’s nature was too noble to be suspicious; and yet he had
received sufficient cause to be distrustful.
Boats being in readiness, the troops began to cross about sunset. The
weather was intensely cold; the wind was high, the current strong, and
the river full of floating ice. Colonel Glover, with his amphibious
regiment of Marblehead fishermen, was in advance; the same who had
navigated the army across the Sound, in its retreat from Brooklyn on
Long Island, to New York. They were men accustomed to battle with the
elements, yet with all their skill and experience, the crossing was
difficult and perilous. Washington, who had crossed with the troops,
stood anxiously, yet patiently, on the eastern bank, while one precious
hour after another elapsed, until the transportation of the artillery
should be effected. The night was dark and tempestuous, the drifting ice
drove the boats out of their course, and threatened them with
destruction. Colonel Knox, who attended to the crossing of the
artillery, assisted with his labors, but still more with his “stentorian
lungs,” giving orders and directions.
It was three o’clock before the artillery was landed, and nearly four
before the troops took up their line of march. Trenton was nine miles
distant; and not to be reached before daylight. To surprise it,
therefore, was out of the question. There was no making a retreat
without being discovered, and harassed in repassing the river. Beside,
the troops from the other points might have crossed, and co-operation
was essential to their safety. Washington resolved to push forward, and
trust to Providence.
He formed the troops into two columns. The first he led himself,
accompanied by Greene, Stirling, Mercer, and Stephen; it was to make a
circuit by the upper or Pennington road, to the north of Trenton. The
other led by Sullivan, and including the brigade of St. Clair, was to
take the lower river road, leading to the west end of the town.
Sullivan’s column was to halt a few moments at a cross-road leading to
Howland’s Ferry, to give Washington’s column time to effect its circuit,
so that the attack might be simultaneous. On arriving at Trenton, they
were to force the outer guards, and push directly into the town before
the enemy had time to form.
The Hessian journals before us enable us to give the reader a glance
into the opposite camp on this eventful night. The situation of
Washington was more critical than he was aware. Notwithstanding the
secrecy with which his plans had been conducted, Colonel Rahl had
received a warning from General Grant, at Princeton, of the intended
attack, and of the very time it was to be made, but stating that it was
to be by a detachment under Lord Stirling. Rahl was accordingly on the
alert.
It so happened that about dusk of this very evening, when Washington
must have been preparing to cross the Delaware, there were alarm guns
and firing at the Trenton outpost. The whole garrison was instantly
drawn out under arms, and Colonel Rahl hastened to the outpost. It was
found in confusion, and six men wounded. A body of men had emerged from
the woods, fired upon the picket, and immediately retired.[156] Colonel
Rahl, with two companies and a field-piece, marched through the woods,
and made the rounds of the outposts, but seeing and hearing nothing, and
finding all quiet, returned. Supposing this to be the attack against
which he had been warned, and that it was “a mere flash in the pan,” he
relapsed into his feeling of security; and, as the night was cold and
stormy, permitted the troops to return to their quarters and lay aside
their arms. Thus the garrison and its unwary commander slept in fancied
security, at the very time that Washington and his troops were making
their toilsome way across the Delaware. How perilous would have been
their situation had their enemy been more vigilant!
It began to hail and snow as the troops commenced their march, and
increased in violence as they advanced, the storm driving the sleet in
their faces. So bitter was the cold that two of the men were frozen to
death that night. The day dawned by the time Sullivan halted at the
cross-road. It was discovered that the storm had rendered many of the
muskets wet and useless. “What is to be done?” inquired Sullivan of St.
Clair. “You have nothing for it but to push on, and use the bayonet,”
was the reply. While some of the soldiers were endeavoring to clear
their muskets, and squibbing off priming, Sullivan despatched an officer
to apprise the commander-in-chief of the condition of their arms. He
came back half-dismayed by an indignant burst of Washington, who ordered
him to return instantly and tell General Sullivan to “advance and
charge.”
It was about eight o’clock when Washington’s column arrived in the
vicinity of the village. The storm, which had rendered the march
intolerable, had kept every one within doors, and the snow had deadened
the tread of the troops and the rumbling of the artillery. As they
approached the village, Washington, who was in front, came to a man that
was chopping wood by the roadside, and inquired, “Which way is the
Hessian picket?” “I don’t know,” was the surly reply. “You may tell,”
said Captain Forest of the artillery, “for that is General Washington.”
The aspect of the man changed in an instant. Raising his hands to
heaven, “God bless and prosper you!” cried he. “The picket is in that
house, and the sentry stands near that tree.”[157]
The advance guard was led by a brave young officer, Captain William A.
Washington, seconded by Lieutenant James Monroe (in after years
President of the United States). They received orders to dislodge the
picket. Here happened to be stationed the very lieutenant whose censures
of the negligence of Colonel Rahl we have just quoted. By his own
account, he was very near being entrapped in the guard-house. His
sentries, he says, were not alert enough; and had he not stepped out of
the picket house himself and discovered the enemy, they would have been
upon him before his men could scramble to their arms. “Der feind! der
feind! heraus! heraus!” (the enemy! the enemy! turn out! turn out!) was
now the cry. He at first, he says, made a stand, thinking he had a mere
marauding party to deal with; but seeing heavy battalions at hand, gave
way, and fell back upon a company stationed to support the picket; but
which appears to have been no better prepared against surprise.
By this time the American artillery was unlimbered; Washington kept
beside it, and the column proceeded. The report of fire-arms told that
Sullivan was at the lower end of the town. Colonel Stark led his advance
guard, and did it in gallant style. The attacks, as concerted, were
simultaneous. The outposts were driven in; they retreated, firing from
behind houses. The Hessian drums beat to arms; the trumpets of the
light-horse sounded the alarm: the whole place was in an uproar. Some of
the enemy made a wild and undirected fire from the windows of their
quarters; others rushed forth in disorder, and attempted to form in the
main street, while dragoons hastily mounted, and galloping about, added
to the confusion. Washington advanced with his column to the head of
King Street; riding beside Captain Forest of the artillery. When
Forest’s battery of six guns was opened the general kept on the left and
advanced with it, giving directions to the fire. His position was an
exposed one, and he was repeatedly entreated to fall back; but all such
entreaties were useless, when once he became heated in action.
The enemy were training a couple of cannon in the main street to form a
battery, which might have given the Americans a serious check; but
Captain Washington and Lieutenant Monroe, with a part of the advance
guard rushed forward, drove the artillerists from their guns, and took
the two pieces when on the point of being fired. Both of these officers
were wounded; the captain in the wrist, the lieutenant in the shoulder.
While Washington advanced on the north of the town, Sullivan approached
on the west, and detached Stark to press on the lower or south end of
the town. The British light-horse, and about five hundred Hessians and
Chasseurs, had been quartered in the lower part of the town. Seeing
Washington’s column pressing in front, and hearing Stark thundering in
their rear, they took headlong flight by the bridge across the
Assunpink, and so along the banks of the Delaware toward Count Dunop’s
encampment at Bordentown. Had Washington’s plan been carried into full
effect, their retreat would have been cut off by General Ewing; but that
officer had been prevented from crossing the river by the ice.
Colonel Rahl, according to the account of the lieutenant who had
commanded the picket, completely lost his head in the confusion of the
surprise. The latter, when driven in by the American advance, found the
colonel on horseback, endeavoring to rally his panic-stricken and
disordered men, but himself sorely bewildered. He asked the lieutenant
what was the force of the assailants. The latter answered that he had
seen four or five battalions in the woods; three of them had fired upon
him before he had retreated—“but,” added he, “there are other troops to
the right and left, and the town will soon be surrounded.” The colonel
rode in front of his troops:—“Forward! march! advance! advance!” cried
he. With some difficulty he succeeded in extricating his troops from the
town, and leading them into an adjacent orchard. Now was the time,
writes the lieutenant, for him to have pushed for another place, there
to make a stand. At this critical moment he might have done so with
credit, and without loss. The colonel seems to have had such an
intention. A rapid retreat by the Princeton road was apparently in his
thoughts; but he lacked decision. The idea of flying before the rebels
was intolerable. Some one, too, exclaimed at the ruinous loss of leaving
all their baggage to be plundered by the enemy. Changing his mind, he
made a rash resolve. “All who are my grenadiers, forward!” cried he, and
went back, writes his corporal, like a storm upon the town. “What
madness was this!” writes the critical lieutenant. “A town that was of
no use to us; that but ten or fifteen minutes before he had gladly left;
that was now filled with three or four thousand enemies, stationed in
houses or behind walls and hedges, and a battery of six cannon planted
on the main street. And he to think of retaking it with his six or seven
hundred men and their bayonets!”
Still he led his grenadiers bravely but rashly on, when, in the midst of
his career, he received a fatal wound from a musket ball, and fell from
his horse. His men, left without their chief, were struck with dismay;
heedless of the orders of the second in command, they retreated by the
right up the banks of the Assunpink, intending to escape to Princeton.
Washington saw their design, and threw Colonel Hand’s corps of
Pennsylvania riflemen in their way; while a body of Virginia troops
gained their left. Brought to a stand, and perfectly bewildered,
Washington thought they were forming in order of battle, and ordered a
discharge of canister shot. “Sir, they have struck,” exclaimed Forest.
“Struck!” echoed the general. “Yes, sir, their colors are down.” “So
they are!” replied Washington, and spurred in that direction, followed
by Forest and his whole command. The men grounded their arms and
surrendered at discretion; “but had not Colonel Rahl been severely
wounded,” remarks his loyal corporal, “we would never have been taken
alive!”
The skirmishing had now ceased in every direction. Major Wilkinson, who
was with the lower column, was sent to the commander-in-chief for
orders. He rode up, he says, at the moment that Colonel Rahl, supported
by a file of sergeants, was presenting his sword. “On my approach,”
continues he, “the commander-in-chief took me by the hand, and observed,
’Major Wilkinson, this is a glorious day for our country!’ his
countenance beaming with complacency; whilst the unfortunate Rahl, who
the day before would not have changed fortunes with him, now pale,
bleeding, and covered with blood, in broken accents seemed to implore
those attentions which the victor was well disposed to bestow on him.”
He was, in fact, conveyed with great care to his quarters, which were in
the house of a kind and respectable Quaker family.
The number of prisoners taken in this affair was nearly one thousand, of
which thirty-two were officers. The veteran Major Von Dechow, who had
urged in vain the throwing up of breastworks, received a mortal wound,
of which he died in Trenton. Washington’s triumph, however, was impaired
by the failure of the two simultaneous attacks. General Ewing, who was
to have crossed before day at Trenton Ferry, and taken possession of the
bridge leading out of the town, over which the light-horse and Hessians
retreated, was prevented by the quantity of ice in the river. Cadwalader
was hindered by the same obstacle. He got part of his troops over, but
found it impossible to embark his cannon, and was obliged, therefore, to
return to the Pennsylvania side of the river. Had he and Ewing crossed,
Donop’s quarters would have been beaten up, and the fugitives from
Trenton intercepted.
By the failure of this part of his plan, Washington had been exposed to
the most imminent hazard. The force with which he had crossed,
twenty-four hundred men, raw troops, was not enough to cope with the
veteran garrison, had it been properly on its guard; and then there were
the troops under Donop at hand to co-operate with it. Nothing saved him
but the utter panic of the enemy; their want of proper alarm places, and
their exaggerated idea of his forces: for one of the journals before us
(the corporal’s) states that he had with him 15,000 men, and another
6,000.[158] Even now that the place was in his possession he dared not
linger in it. There was a superior force under Donop below him, and a
strong battalion of infantry at Princeton. His own troops were exhausted
by the operations of the night and morning in cold, rain, snow and
storm. They had to guard about a thousand prisoners, taken in action or
found concealed in houses; there was little prospect of succor, owing to
the season and the state of the river. Washington gave up, therefore,
all idea of immediately pursuing the enemy or keeping possession of
Trenton, and determined to recross the Delaware with his prisoners and
captured artillery. Understanding that the brave but unfortunate Rahl
was in a dying state, he paid him a visit before leaving Trenton,
accompanied by General Greene. They found him at his quarters in the
house of a Quaker family. Their visit and the respectful consideration
and unaffected sympathy manifested by them, evidently soothed the
feelings of the unfortunate soldier; now stripped of his late won
laurels, and resigned to die rather than outlive his honor.[159]
We have given a somewhat sarcastic portrait of the colonel drawn by one
of his lieutenants; another, Lieutenant Piel, paints with a soberer and
more reliable pencil.
“For our whole ill luck,” writes he, “we have to thank Colonel Rahl. It
never occurred to him that the rebels might attack us; and, therefore,
he had taken scarce any precautions against such an event. In truth I
must confess we have universally thought too little of the rebels, who,
until now, have never on any occasion been able to withstand us. Our
brigadier (Rahl) was too proud to retire a step before such an enemy;
although nothing remained for us but to retreat.
“General Howe had judged this man from a wrong point of view, or he
would hardly have intrusted such an important post as Trenton to him. He
was formed for a soldier, but not for a general. At the capture of Fort
Washington he had gained much honor while under the command of a great
general, but he lost all his renown at Trenton where he himself was
general. He had courage to dare the hardiest enterprise; but he alone
wanted the cool presence of mind necessary in a surprise like that at
Trenton. His vivacity was too great; one thought crowded on another so
that he could come to no decision. Considered as a private man, he was
deserving of high regard. He was generous, open-handed, hospitable;
never cringing to his superiors, nor arrogant to his inferiors; but
courteous to all. Even his domestics were treated more like friends than
servants.”
The loyal corporal, too, contributes his mite of praise to his dying
commander. “In his last agony,” writes the grateful soldier, “he yet
thought of his grenadiers, and entreated General Washington that nothing
might be taken from them but their arms. A promise was given,” adds the
corporal, “and was kept.”
Even the satirical lieutenant half mourns over his memory. “He died,”
says he, “on the following evening, and lies buried in this place which
he has rendered so famous, in the graveyard of the Presbyterian church.
Sleep well! dear Commander! (theurer Feldherr.) The Americans will
hereafter set up a stone above thy grave with this inscription:
“Hier liegt der Oberst Rahl,
Mit ihm ist alles all!
(Here lies the Colonel Rahl,
With him all is over.)”
CHAPTER XLIV.
TREATMENT OF THE HESSIAN PRISONERS—THEIR INTERVIEWS WITH
WASHINGTON—THEIR RECEPTION BY THE PEOPLE.
The Hessian prisoners were conveyed across the Delaware by Johnson’s
Ferry, into Pennsylvania; the private soldiers were marched off
immediately to Newtown; the officers, twenty-three in number, remained
in a small chamber in the Ferry House, where, according to their own
account, they passed a dismal night; sore at heart that their recent
triumphs at White Plains and Fort Washington should be so suddenly
eclipsed.
On the following morning they were conducted to Newtown under the escort
of Colonel Weedon. His exterior, writes Lieutenant Piel, spoke but
little in his favor, yet he won all our hearts by his kind and friendly
conduct.
At Newtown the officers were quartered in inns and private houses, the
soldiers in the church and jail. The officers paid a visit to Lord
Stirling, whom some of them had known from his being captured at Long
Island. He received them with great kindness. “Your general, Van
Heister,” said he, “treated me like a brother when I was a prisoner, and
so, gentlemen, will you be treated by me.”
“We had scarce seated ourselves,” continues Lieutenant Piel, “when a
long, meagre, dark-looking man, whom we took for the parson of the
place, stepped forth and held a discourse in German, in which he
endeavored to set forth the justice of the American side in this war. He
told us he was a Hanoverian born; called the king of England nothing but
the Elector of Hanover, and spoke of him so contemptuously that his
garrulity became intolerable. We answered that we had not come to
America to inquire which party was in the right; but to fight for the
king.
“Lord Stirling, seeing how little we were edified by the preacher,
relieved us from him by proposing to take us with him to visit General
Washington. The latter received us very courteously, though we
understood very little of what he said, as he spoke nothing but English,
a language in which none of us at that time were strong. In his aspect
shines forth nothing of the great man that he is universally considered.
His eyes have scarce any fire. There is, however, a smiling expression
on his countenance when he speaks, that wins affection and respect. He
invited four of our officers to dine with him; the rest dined with Lord
Stirling.” One of those officers who dined with the commander-in-chief,
was the satirical lieutenant whom we have so often quoted, and who was
stationed at the picket on the morning of the attack. However
disparagingly he may have thought of his unfortunate commander, he
evidently had a very good opinion of himself.
“General Washington,” writes he in his journal, “did me the honor to
converse a good deal with me concerning the unfortunate affair. I told
him freely my opinion that our dispositions had been bad, otherwise we
should not have fallen into his hands. He asked me if I could have made
better dispositions, and in what manner? I told him yes; stated all the
faults of our arrangements, and showed him how I would have done; and
would have managed to come out of the affair with honor.”
We have no doubt, from the specimens furnished in the lieutenant’s
journal, that he went largely into his own merits and achievements, and
the demerits and shortcomings of his luckless commander. Washington, he
added, not only applauded his exposition of what he would have done, but
made him a eulogy thereupon, and upon his watchfulness and the defence
he had made with his handful of men when his picket was attacked. Yet
according to his own account, in his journal, with all his watchfulness,
he came near being caught napping.
“General Washington,” continues he, “is a courteous and polite man, but
very cautious and reserved; talks little; and has a crafty (listige)
physiognomy.” We surmise the lieutenant had the most of the talk on that
occasion, and that the crafty or sly expression in Washington’s
physiognomy, may have been a lurking but suppressed smile, provoked by
the lieutenant’s self-laudation and wordiness.
The Hessian prisoners were subsequently transferred from place to place,
until they reached Winchester in the interior of Virginia. Wherever they
arrived, people thronged from far and near to see these terrible beings
of whom they had received such formidable accounts; and were surprised
and disappointed to find them looking like other men. At first they had
to endure the hootings and revilings of the multitude, for having hired
themselves out to the trade of blood; and they especially speak of the
scoldings they received from old women in the villages, who upbraided
them for coming to rob them of their liberty. “At length,” writes the
corporal in his journal, “General Washington had written notices put up
in town and country, that we were innocent of this war and had joined in
it not of our free will, but through compulsion. We should, therefore,
be treated not as enemies, but friends. From this time,” adds he,
“things went better with us. Every day came many out of the towns, old
and young, rich and poor, and brought us provisions, and treated us with
kindness and humanity.”[160]
CHAPTER XLV.
EPISODE—COLONEL GRIFFIN IN THE JERSEYS—DONOP DECOYED—INROAD OF
CADWALADER AND REED—RETREAT AND CONFUSION OF THE ENEMY’S
OUTPOSTS—WASHINGTON RECROSSES THE DELAWARE WITH HIS TROOPS—THE GAME
REVERSED—THE HESSIANS HUNTED BACK THROUGH THE COUNTRY—WASHINGTON MADE
MILITARY DICTATOR.
There was a kind of episode in the affair at Trenton. Colonel Griffin,
who had thrown himself previously into the Jerseys with his detachment
of Pennsylvania militia, found himself, through indisposition and the
scanty number of his troops, unable to render efficient service in the
proposed attack. He sent word to Cadwalader, therefore, that he should
probably render him more real aid by making a demonstration in front of
Donop, and drawing him off so far into the interior as to be out of the
way of rendering support to Colonel Rahl.
He accordingly presented himself in sight of Donop’s cantonment on the
25th of December, and succeeded in drawing him out with nearly his whole
force of two thousand men. He then retired slowly before him,
skirmishing, but avoiding any thing like an action, until he had lured
him as far as Mount Holly; when he left him to find his way back to his
post at his leisure.
The cannonade of Washington’s attack in Trenton on the morning of the
26th, was distinctly heard at Cadwalader’s camp at Bristol. Imperfect
tidings of the result reached there about eleven o’clock, and produced
the highest exultation and excitement. Cadwalader made another attempt
to cross the river and join Washington, whom he supposed to be still in
the Jerseys, following up the blow he had struck. He could not effect
the passage of the river with the most of the troops, until mid-day of
the 27th, when he received from Washington a detailed account of his
success, and of his having recrossed into Pennsylvania.
Cadwalader was now in a dilemma. Donop, he presumed, was still at Mount
Holly, whither Griffin had decoyed him; but he might soon march back.
His forces were equal, if not superior in number to his own, and
veterans instead of raw militia. But then there was the glory of
rivalling the exploit at Trenton, and the importance of following out
the effort for the relief of the Jerseys, and the salvation of
Philadelphia. Beside, Washington, in all probability, after disposing of
his prisoners, had again crossed into the Jerseys and might be acting
offensively.
Reed relieved Cadwalader from his dilemma, by proposing that they should
push on to Burlington, and there determine, according to intelligence,
whether to proceed to Bordentown or Mount Holly. The plan was adopted.
There was an alarm that the Hessian yagers lurked in a neighboring wood.
Reed, accompanied by two officers, rode in advance to reconnoitre. He
sent word to Cadwalader that it was a false alarm, and the latter took
up his line of march.
Reed and his companions spurred on to reconnoitre the enemy’s outposts,
about four miles from Burlington, but pulled up at the place where the
picket was usually stationed. There was no smoke, nor any sign of a
human being. They rode up and found the place deserted. From the country
people in the neighborhood they received an explanation. Count Donop had
returned to his post from the pursuit of Griffin, only in time to hear
of the disaster at Trenton. He immediately began a retreat in the utmost
panic and confusion, calling in his guards and parties as he hurried
forward. The troops in the neighborhood of Burlington had decamped
precipitately the preceding evening.
Colonel Reed sent back intelligence of this to Cadwalader, and still
pushed on with his companions. As they rode along, they observed the
inhabitants pulling down red rags which had been nailed to their doors;
tory signs to insure good will from the British. Arrived at Bordentown
not an enemy was to be seen; the fugitives from Trenton had spread a
panic on the 26th, and the Hessians and their refugee adherents had fled
in confusion, leaving their sick behind them. The broken and haggard
looks of the inhabitants showed what they had suffered during the
Hessian occupation. One of Reed’s companions returned to Cadwalader, who
had halted at Burlington, and advised him to proceed.
Cadwalader wrote in the night to Washington, informing him of his
whereabouts, and that he should march for Bordentown in the morning. “If
you should think proper to cross over,” added he, “it may easily be
effected at the place where we passed; a pursuit would keep up the
panic. They went off with great precipitation, and pressed all the
waggons in their reach; I am told many of them are gone to South Amboy.
If we can drive them from West Jersey, the success will raise an army
next spring, and establish the credit of the Continental money to
support it.”
There was another letter from Cadwalader, dated on the following day,
from Bordentown. He had eighteen hundred men with him. Five hundred more
were on the way to join him. General Mifflin, too, had sent over five
hundred from Philadelphia, and three hundred from Burlington, and was to
follow with seven or eight hundred more.
Colonel Reed, too, wrote from Trenton on the 28th. He had found that
place without a single soldier of either army, and in a still more
wretched condition than Bordentown. He urged Washington to recross the
river, and pursue the advantages already gained. Donop might be
overtaken before he could reach Princeton or Brunswick, where the enemy
were yet in force.[161]
Washington needed no prompting of the kind. Bent upon following up his
blow, he had barely allowed his troops a day or two to recover from
recent exposure and fatigue, that they might have strength and spirit to
pursue the retreating enemy, beat up other of their quarters, and
entirely reverse affairs in the Jerseys. In this spirit he had written
to Generals McDougall and Maxwell at Morristown, to collect as large a
body of militia as possible, and harass the enemy in flank and rear.
Heath, also, had been ordered to abandon the Highlands, which there was
no need of guarding at this season of the year, and hasten down with the
eastern militia, as rapidly as possible, by the way of Hackensack,
continuing on until he should send him further orders. “A fair
opportunity is offered,” said he, “of driving the enemy entirely from
the Jerseys, or at least to the extremity of the province.”
Men of influence also were despatched by him into different parts of the
Jerseys, to spirit up the militia to revenge the oppression, the ravage,
and insults they had experienced from the enemy, especially from the
Hessians. “If what they have suffered,” said he, “does not rouse their
resentment, they must not possess the feelings of humanity.”
On the 29th, his troops began to cross the river. It would be a slow and
difficult operation, owing to the ice; two parties of light troops
therefore were detached in advance, whom Colonel Reed was to send in
pursuit of the enemy. They marched into Trenton about two o’clock, and
were immediately put on the traces of Donop, to hang on his rear and
harass him until other troops should come up. Cadwalader also detached a
party of riflemen from Bordentown with like orders. Donop, in
retreating, had divided his force, sending one part by a cross-road to
Princeton, and hurrying on with the remainder to Brunswick.
Notwithstanding the severity of the weather, and the wretchedness of the
road, it was a service of animation and delight to the American troops
to hunt back these Hessians through the country they had recently
outraged, and over ground which they themselves had trodden so painfully
and despondingly, in their retreat. In one instance the riflemen
surprised and captured a party of refugees who lingered in the
rear-guard, among whom were several newly-made officers. Never was there
a more sudden reversal in the game of war than this retreat of the heavy
German veterans, harassed by light parties of a raw militia, which they
so lately had driven like chaff before them.
While this was going on, Washington was effecting the passage of his
main force to Trenton. He himself had crossed on the 29th of December,
but it took two days more to get the troops and artillery over the icy
river, and that with great labor and difficulty. And now came a
perplexity. With the year expired the term of several regiments, which
had seen most service, and become inured to danger. Knowing how
indispensable were such troops to lead on those which were raw and
undisciplined, Washington had them paraded and invited to re-enlist. It
was a difficult task to persuade them. They were haggard with fatigue,
and hardship and privation of every kind; and their hearts yearned for
home. By the persuasions of their officers, however, and a bounty of ten
dollars, the greater proportion of those from the eastward were induced
to remain six weeks longer.
Hard money was necessary in this emergency. How was it to be furnished?
The military chest was incompetent. On the 30th, Washington wrote by
express to Robert Morris, the patriot financier at Philadelphia, whom he
knew to be eager that the blow should be followed up. “If you could
possibly collect a sum, if it were but one hundred, or one hundred and
fifty pounds, it would be of service.”
Morris received the letter in the evening. He was at his wits’ end to
raise the sum, for hard money was scarce. Fortunately a wealthy Quaker,
in this moment of exigency supplied the “sinews of war,” and early the
next morning the money was forwarded by the express.
At this critical moment, too, Washington received a letter from a
committee of Congress, transmitting him resolves of that body dated the
27th of December, investing him with military powers quite dictatorial.
“Happy is it for this country,” write the committee, “that the general
of their forces can safely be intrusted with the most unlimited power,
and neither personal security, liberty or property, be in the least
degree endangered thereby.”[162]
Washington’s acknowledgment of this great mark of confidence was noble
and characteristic. “I find Congress have done me the honor to intrust
me with powers, in my military capacity, of the highest nature and
almost unlimited extent. Instead of thinking myself freed from all
_civil_ obligations by this mark of their confidence, I shall constantly
bear in mind that, as the sword was the last resort for the preservation
of our liberties, so it ought to be the first thing laid aside when
those liberties are firmly established.”
CHAPTER XLVI
HOWE HEARS OF THE AFFAIR AT TRENTON—CORNWALLIS SENT BACK TO THE
JERSEYS—RECONNOITERING EXPEDITION OF REED—HIS EXPLOITS—WASHINGTON IN
PERIL AT TRENTON—REINFORCED BY TROOPS UNDER CADWALADER AND
MIFFLIN—POSITION OF HIS MEN—CORNWALLIS AT TRENTON—REPULSED AT THE
ASSUNPINK—THE AMERICAN CAMP MENACED—NIGHT MARCH OF WASHINGTON—AFFAIR AT
PRINCETON—DEATH OF MERCER—ROUT OF BRITISH TROOPS—PURSUED BY
WASHINGTON—CORNWALLIS AT PRINCETON—BAFFLED AND PERPLEXED—WASHINGTON AT
MORRISTOWN—HIS SYSTEM OF ANNOYANCE—THE TABLES TURNED UPON THE ENEMY.
General Howe was taking his ease in winter quarters at New York, waiting
for the freezing of the Delaware to pursue his triumphant march to
Philadelphia, when tidings were brought him of the surprise and capture
of the Hessians at Trenton. “That three old established regiments of a
people who made war their profession, should lay down their arms to a
ragged and undisciplined militia, and that with scarcely any loss on
either side,” was a matter of amazement. He instantly stopped Lord
Cornwallis, who was on the point of embarking for England, and sent him
back in all haste to resume the command in the Jerseys.
The ice in the Delaware impeded the crossing of the American troops, and
gave the British time to draw in their scattered cantonments and
assemble their whole force at Princeton. While his troops were yet
crossing, Washington sent out Colonel Reed to reconnoitre the position
and movements of the enemy and obtain information. Six of the
Philadelphia light-horse, spirited young fellows, but who had never seen
service, volunteered to accompany Reed. They patrolled the country to
the very vicinity of Princeton, but could collect no information from
the inhabitants; who were harassed, terrified, and bewildered by the
ravaging marches to and fro of friend and enemy.
Emerging from a wood almost within view of Princeton, they caught sight,
from a rising ground, of two or three red coats passing from time to
time from a barn to a dwelling house. Here must be an outpost. Keeping
the barn in a line with the house so as to cover their approach, they
dashed up to the latter without being discovered, and surrounded it.
Twelve British dragoons were within, who, though well armed, were so
panic-stricken that they surrendered without making defence. A
commissary, also, was taken; the sergeant of the dragoons alone escaped.
Colonel Reed and his six cavaliers returned in triumph to head-quarters.
Important information was obtained from their prisoners. Lord Cornwallis
had joined General Grant the day before at Princeton, with a
reinforcement of chosen troops. They had now seven or eight thousand
men, and were pressing waggons for a march upon Trenton.[163]
Cadwalader, stationed at Crosswicks, about seven miles distant, between
Bordentown and Trenton, sent intelligence to the same purport, received
by him from a young gentleman who had escaped from Princeton.
Word, too, was brought from other quarters, that General Howe was on the
march with a thousand light troops, with which he had landed at Amboy.
The situation of Washington was growing critical. The enemy were
beginning to advance their large pickets towards Trenton. Every thing
indicated an approaching attack. The force with him was small; to
retreat across the river, would destroy the dawn of hope awakened in the
bosoms of the Jersey militia by the late exploit; but to make a stand
without reinforcements was impossible. In this emergency, he called to
his aid General Cadwalader from Crosswicks, and General Mifflin from
Bordentown, with their collective forces, amounting to about three
thousand six hundred men. He did it with reluctance, for it seemed like
involving them in the common danger, but the exigency of the case
admitted of no alternative. They promptly answered to his call, and
marching in the night, joined him on the 1st of January.
Washington chose a position for his main body on the east side of the
Assunpink. There was a narrow stone bridge across it, where the water
was very deep; the same bridge over which part of Rahl’s brigade had
escaped in the recent affair. He planted his artillery so as to command
the bridge and the fords. His advance guard was stationed about three
miles off in a wood, having in front a stream called Shabbakong Creek.
Early on the morning of the 2d, came certain word that Cornwallis was
approaching with all his force. Strong parties were sent out under
General Greene, who skirmished with the enemy and harassed them in their
advance. By twelve o’clock they reached the Shabbakong, and halted for a
time on its northern bank. Then crossing it, and moving forward with
rapidity, they drove the advance guard out of the woods, and pushed on
until they reached a high ground near the town. Here Hand’s corps of
several battalions was drawn up, and held them for a time in check. All
the parties in advance ultimately retreated to the main body, on the
east side of the Assunpink, and found some difficulty in crowding across
the narrow bridge.
From all these checks and delays, it was nearly sunset before Cornwallis
with the head of his army entered Trenton. His rear-guard under General
Leslie rested at Maiden Head, about six miles distant, and nearly half
way between Trenton and Princeton. Forming his troops into columns, he
now made repeated attempts to cross the Assunpink at the bridge and the
fords, but was as often repulsed by the artillery. For a part of the
time Washington, mounted on a white horse, stationed himself at the
south end of the bridge, issuing his orders. Each time the enemy was
repulsed there was a shout along the American lines. At length they drew
off, came to a halt, and lighted their camp fires. The Americans did the
same, using the neighboring fences for the purpose. Sir William Erskine,
who was with Cornwallis, urged him, it is said, to attack Washington
that evening in his camp; but his lordship declined; he felt sure of the
game which had so often escaped him; he had at length, he thought, got
Washington into a situation from which he could not escape, but where he
might make a desperate stand, and he was willing to give his wearied
troops a night’s repose to prepare them for the closing struggle. He
would be sure, he said, to “bag the fox in the morning.”
A cannonade was kept up on both sides until dark; but with little damage
to the Americans. When night closed in, the two camps lay, in sight of
each other’s fires, ruminating the bloody action of the following day.
It was the most gloomy and anxious night that had yet closed in on the
American army, throughout its series of perils and disasters; for there
was no concealing the impending danger. But what must have been the
feelings of the commander-in-chief, as he anxiously patrolled his camp,
and considered his desperate position? A small stream, fordable in
several places, was all that separated his raw, inexperienced army, from
an enemy vastly superior in numbers and discipline, and stung to action
by the mortification of a late defeat. A general action with them must
be ruinous; but how was he to retreat? Behind him was the Delaware,
impassable from floating ice. Granting even (a thing not to be hoped)
that a retreat across it could be effected, the consequences would be
equally fatal. The Jerseys would be left in possession of the enemy,
endangering the immediate capture of Philadelphia, and sinking the
public mind into despondency.
In this darkest of moments a gleam of hope flashed upon his mind: a bold
expedient suggested itself. Almost the whole of the enemy’s force must
by this time be drawn out of Princeton, and advancing by detachments
toward Trenton, while their baggage and principal stores must remain
weakly guarded at Brunswick. Was it not possible by a rapid night march
along the Quaker road, a different road from that on which General
Leslie with the rear-guard was resting, to get past that force
undiscovered, come by surprise upon those left at Princeton, capture or
destroy what stores were left there, and then push on to Brunswick? This
would save the army from being cut off; would avoid the appearance of a
defeat; and might draw the enemy away from Trenton, while some fortunate
stroke might give additional reputation to the American arms. Even
should the enemy march on to Philadelphia, it could not in any case be
prevented; while a counterblow in the Jerseys would be of great
consolation.
Such was the plan which Washington revolved in his mind on the gloomy
banks of the Assunpink, and which he laid before his officers in a
council of war, held after nightfall, at the quarters of General Mercer.
It met with instant concurrence, being of that hardy, adventurous kind,
which seems congenial with the American character. One formidable
difficulty presented itself. The weather was unusually mild; there was a
thaw, by which the roads might be rendered deep and miry, and almost
impassable. Fortunately, or rather providentially, as Washington was
prone to consider it, the wind veered to the north in the course of the
evening; the weather became intensely cold, and in two hours the roads
were once more hard and frost-bound. In the mean time, the baggage of
the army was silently removed to Burlington, and every other preparation
was made for a rapid march. To deceive the enemy, men were employed to
dig trenches near the bridge within hearing of the British sentries,
with orders to continue noisily at work until daybreak; others were to
go the rounds; relieve guards at the bridge and fords; keep up the camp
fires, and maintain all the appearance of a regular encampment. At
daybreak they were to hasten after the army.
In the dead of the night, the army drew quietly out of the encampment
and began its march. General Mercer, mounted on a favorite gray horse,
was in the advance with the remnant of his flying camp, now but about
three hundred and fifty men, principally relics of the brave Delaware
and Maryland regiments, with some of the Pennsylvania militia. Among the
latter were youths belonging to the best families in Philadelphia. The
main body followed, under Washington’s immediate command.
The Quaker road was a complete roundabout, joining the main road about
two miles from Princeton, where Washington expected to arrive before
daybreak. The road, however, was new and rugged; cut through woods,
where the stumps of trees broke the wheels of some of the baggage
trains, and retarded the march of the troops; so that it was near
sunrise of a bright, frosty morning, when Washington reached the bridge
over Stony Brook, about three miles from Princeton. After crossing the
bridge, he led his troops along the bank of the brook to the edge of a
wood, where a by-road led off on the right through low grounds, and was
said by the guides to be a short cut to Princeton, and less exposed to
view. By this road Washington defiled with the main body, ordering
Mercer to continue along the brook with his brigade, until he should
arrive at the main road, where he was to secure, and, if possible,
destroy a bridge over which it passes; so as to intercept any fugitives
from Princeton, and check any retrograde movements of the British troops
which might have advanced towards Trenton.
Hitherto the movements of the Americans had been undiscovered by the
enemy. Three regiments of the latter, the 17th, 40th, and 55th, with
three troops of dragoons, had been quartered all night in Princeton,
under marching orders to join Lord Cornwallis in the morning. The 17th
regiment, under Colonel Mawhood, was already on the march; the 55th
regiment was preparing to follow. Mawhood had crossed the bridge by
which the old or main road to Trenton passes over Stony Brook, and was
proceeding through a wood beyond, when, as he attained the summit of a
hill about sunrise, the glittering of arms betrayed to him the movement
of Mercer’s troops to the left, who were filing along the Quaker road to
secure the bridge, as they had been ordered.
The woods prevented him from seeing their number. He supposed them to be
some broken portion of the American army flying before Lord Cornwallis.
With this idea, he faced about and made a retrograde movement, to
intercept them or hold them in check; while messengers spurred off at
all speed, to hasten forward the regiments still lingering at Princeton,
so as completely to surround them.
The woods concealed him until he had recrossed the bridge of Stony
Brook, when he came in full sight of the van of Mercer’s brigade. Both
parties pushed to get possession of a rising ground on the right near
the house of a Mr. Clark, of the peaceful Society of Friends. The
Americans being nearest, reached it first, and formed behind a hedge
fence which extended along a slope in front of the house; whence, being
chiefly armed with rifles, they opened a destructive fire. It was
returned with great spirit by the enemy. At the first discharge Mercer
was dismounted, “his gallant gray” being crippled by a musket ball in
the leg. One of his colonels, also, was mortally wounded and carried to
the rear. Availing themselves of the confusion thus occasioned, the
British charged with the bayonet; the American riflemen having no weapon
of the kind, were thrown into disorder and retreated. Mercer, who was on
foot, endeavored to rally them, when a blow from the butt end of a
musket felled him to the ground. He rose and defended himself with his
sword, but was surrounded, bayoneted repeatedly, and left for dead.
Mawhood pursued the broken and retreating troops to the brow of the
rising ground, on which Clark’s house was situated, when he beheld a
large force emerging from a wood and advancing to the rescue. It was a
body of Pennsylvania militia, which Washington, on hearing the firing,
had detached to the support of Mercer. Mawhood instantly ceased pursuit,
drew up his artillery, and by a heavy discharge brought the militia to a
stand.
At this moment Washington himself arrived at the scene of action, having
galloped from the by-road in advance of his troops. From a rising ground
he beheld Mercer’s troops retreating in confusion, and the detachment of
militia checked by Mawhood’s artillery. Every thing was at peril.
Putting spurs to his horse he dashed past the hesitating militia, waving
his hat and cheering them on. His commanding figure and white horse,
made him a conspicuous object for the enemy’s marksmen; but he heeded it
not. Galloping forward under the fire of Mawhood’s battery, he called
upon Mercer’s broken brigade. The Pennsylvanians rallied at the sound of
his voice, and caught fire from his example. At the same time the 7th
Virginia regiment emerged from the wood, and moved forward with loud
cheers, while a fire of grape-shot was opened by Captain Moulder of the
American artillery, from the brow of a ridge to the south.
Colonel Mawhood, who a moment before had thought his triumph secure,
found himself assailed on every side, and separated from the other
British regiments. He fought, however, with great bravery, and for a
short time the action was desperate. Washington was in the midst of it;
equally endangered by the random fire of his own men, and the artillery
and musketry of the enemy. His aide-de-camp, Colonel Fitzgerald, a young
and ardent Irishman, losing sight of him in the heat of the fight when
enveloped in dust and smoke, dropped the bridle on the neck of his horse
and drew his hat over his eyes; giving him up for lost. When he saw him,
however, emerge from the cloud, waving his hat, and beheld the enemy
giving way, he spurred up to his side. “Thank God,” cried he, “your
excellency is safe!” “Away, my dear colonel, and bring up the troops,”
was the reply, “the day is our own!” It was one of those occasions in
which the latent fire of Washington’s character blazed forth.
Mawhood, by this time, had forced his way, at the point of the bayonet,
through gathering foes, though with heavy loss, back to the main road,
and was in full retreat towards Trenton to join Cornwallis. Washington
detached Major Kelly with a party of Pennsylvania troops, to destroy the
bridge at Stony Brook, over which Mawhood had retreated, so as to impede
the advance of General Leslie from Maiden Head.
In the mean time the 55th regiment, which had been on the left and
nearer Princeton, had been encountered by the American advance guard
under General St. Clair, and after some sharp fighting in a ravine had
given way, and was retreating across fields and along a by-road to
Brunswick. The remaining regiment, the 40th, had not been able to come
up in time for the action; a part of it fled toward Brunswick; the
residue took refuge in the college at Princeton, recently occupied by
them as barracks. Artillery was now brought to bear on the college, and
a few shot compelled those within to surrender.
In this brief but brilliant action, about one hundred of the British
were left dead on the field, and nearly three hundred taken prisoners,
fourteen of whom were officers. Among the slain was Captain Leslie, son
of the Earl of Leven. His death was greatly lamented by his captured
companions.
The loss of the Americans was about twenty-five or thirty men and
several officers. Among the latter was Colonel Haslet, who had
distinguished himself throughout the campaign, by being among the
foremost in services of danger. He was indeed a gallant officer, and
gallantly seconded by his Delaware troops.
A greater loss was that of General Mercer. He was said to be either dead
or dying, in the house of Mr. Clark, whither he had been conveyed by his
aide-de-camp, Major Armstrong, who found him, after the retreat of
Mawhood’s troops, lying on the field gashed with several wounds, and
insensible from cold and loss of blood. Washington would have ridden
back from Princeton to visit him, and have him conveyed to a place of
greater security; but was assured, that, if alive, he was too
desperately wounded to bear removal; in the mean time he was in good
hands, being faithfully attended to by his aide-de-camp, Major
Armstrong, and treated with the utmost care and kindness by Mr. Clark’s
family.[164]
Under these circumstances Washington felt compelled to leave his old
companion in arms to his fate. Indeed, he was called away by the
exigencies of his command, having to pursue the routed regiments which
were making a headlong retreat to Brunswick. In this pursuit he took the
lead at the head of a detachment of cavalry. At Kingston, however, three
miles to the north-east of Princeton, he pulled up, restrained his
ardor, and held a council of war on horseback. Should he keep on to
Brunswick or not? The capture of the British stores and baggage would
make his triumph complete; but, on the other hand, his troops were
excessively fatigued by their rapid march all night and hard fight in
the morning. All of them had been one night without sleep, and some of
them two, and many were half-starved. They were without blankets, thinly
clad, some of them barefooted, and this in freezing weather. Cornwallis
would be upon them before they could reach Brunswick. His rear-guard,
under General Leslie, had been quartered but six miles from Princeton,
and the retreating troops must have roused them. Under these
considerations, it was determined to discontinue the pursuit and push
for Morristown. There they would be in a mountainous country, heavily
wooded, in an abundant neighborhood, and on the flank of the enemy, with
various defiles by which they might change their position according to
his movements.
Filing off to the left, therefore, from Kingston, and breaking down the
bridges behind him, Washington took the narrow road by Rocky Hill to
Pluckamin. His troops were so exhausted, that many in the course of the
march would lie down in the woods on the frozen ground and fall asleep,
and were with difficulty roused and cheered forward. At Pluckamin he
halted for a time, to allow them a little repose and refreshment. While
they are taking breath we will cast our eyes back to the camp of
Cornwallis, to see what was the effect upon him of this masterly
movement of Washington.
His lordship had retired to rest at Trenton with the sportsman’s vaunt
that he would “bag the fox in the morning.” Nothing could surpass his
surprise and chagrin, when at daybreak the expiring watchfires and
deserted camp of the Americans told him that the prize had once more
evaded his grasp; that the general whose military skill he had decried
had out-generalled him.
For a time he could not learn whither the army, which had stolen away so
silently, had directed its stealthy march. By sunrise, however, there
was the booming of cannon, like the rumbling of distant thunder, in the
direction of Princeton. The idea flashed upon him that Washington had
not merely escaped, but was about to make a dash at the British
magazines at Brunswick. Alarmed for the safety of his military stores,
his lordship forthwith broke up his camp, and made a rapid march towards
Princeton. As he arrived in sight of the bridge over Stony Brook, he
beheld Major Kelly and his party busy in its destruction. A distant
discharge of round shot from his field-pieces drove them away, but the
bridge was already broken. It would take time to repair it for the
passage of the artillery; so Cornwallis in his impatience urged his
troops breast-high through the turbulent and icy stream, and again
pushed forward. He was brought to a stand by the discharge of a
thirty-two pounder from a distant breastwork. Supposing the Americans to
be there in force, and prepared to make resistance, he sent out some
horsemen to reconnoitre, and advanced to storm the battery. There was no
one there. The thirty-two pounder had been left behind by the Americans,
as too unwieldy, and a match had been applied to it by some lingerer of
Washington’s rear-guard.
Without further delay Cornwallis hurried forward, eager to save his
magazines. Crossing the bridge at Kingston, he kept on along the
Brunswick road, supposing Washington still before him. The latter had
got far in the advance, during the delays caused by the broken bridge at
Stony Brook, and the discharge of the thirty-two pounder; and the
alteration of his course at Kingston had carried him completely out of
the way of Cornwallis. His lordship reached Brunswick towards evening,
and endeavored to console himself, by the safety of the military stores,
for being so completely foiled and out-manœuvred.
Washington, in the mean time, was all on the alert; the lion part of his
nature was aroused; and while his weary troops were in a manner panting
upon the ground around him, he was despatching missives and calling out
aid to enable him to follow up his successes. In a letter to Putnam,
written from Pluckamin during the halt, he says: “The enemy appear to be
panic-struck. I am in hopes of driving them out of the Jerseys. March
the troops under your command to Crosswicks, and keep a strict watch
upon the enemy in this quarter. Keep as many spies out as you think
proper. A number of horsemen in the dress of the country must be kept
constantly going backwards and forwards for this purpose. If you
discover any motion of the enemy of consequence, let me be informed
thereof as soon as possible, by express.”
To General Heath, also, who was stationed in the Highlands of the
Hudson, he wrote at the same hurried moment. “The enemy are in great
consternation; and as the panic affords us a favorable opportunity to
drive them out of the Jerseys, it has been determined in council that
you should move down towards New York with a considerable force, as if
you had a design upon the city. That being an object of great
importance, the enemy will be reduced to the necessity of withdrawing a
considerable part of their force from the Jerseys, if not the whole, to
secure the city.”
These letters despatched, he continued forward to Morristown, where at
length he came to a halt from his incessant and harassing marchings.
There he learnt that General Mercer was still alive. He immediately sent
his own nephew, Major George Lewis, under the protection of a flag, to
attend upon him. Mercer had indeed been kindly nursed by a daughter of
Mr. Clark and a negro woman, who had not been frightened from their home
by the storm of battle which raged around it. At the time that the
troops of Cornwallis approached, Major Armstrong was binding up Mercer’s
wounds. The latter insisted on his leaving him in the kind hands of Mr.
Clark’s household, and rejoining the army. Lewis found him languishing
in great pain; he had been treated with respect by the enemy, and great
tenderness by the benevolent family who had sheltered him. He expired in
the arms of Major Lewis on the 12th of January, in the fifty-sixth year
of his age. Dr. Benjamin Rush, afterwards celebrated as a physician, was
with him when he died.
He was upright, intelligent and brave; esteemed as a soldier and beloved
as a man, and by none more so than by Washington. His career as a
general had been brief; but long enough to secure him a lasting renown.
His name remains one of the consecrated names of the Revolution.
From Morristown, Washington again wrote to General Heath, repeating his
former orders. To Major-general Lincoln, also, who was just arrived at
Peekskill, and had command of the Massachusetts militia, he writes on
the 7th, “General Heath will communicate mine of this date to you, by
which you will find that the greater part of your troops are to move
down towards New York, to draw the attention of the enemy to that
quarter; and if they do not throw a considerable body back again, you
may, in all probability, carry the city, or at least blockade them in
it. * * * * Be as expeditious as possible in moving forward, for the
sooner a panic-struck enemy is followed the better. If we can oblige
them to evacuate the Jerseys, we must drive them to the utmost distress;
for they have depended upon the supplies from that State for their
winter’s support.”
Colonel Reed was ordered to send out rangers and bodies of militia to
scour the country, waylay foraging parties, cut off supplies, and keep
the cantonments of the enemy in a state of siege. “I would not suffer a
man to stir beyond their lines,” writes Washington, “nor suffer them to
have the least communication with the country.”
The expedition under General Heath toward New York, from which much had
been anticipated by Washington, proved a failure. It moved in three
divisions, by different routes, but all arriving nearly at the same time
at the enemy’s outposts at King’s Bridge. There was some skirmishing,
but the great feature of the expedition was a pompous and peremptory
summons of Fort Independence to surrender. “Twenty minutes only can be
allowed,” said Heath, “for the garrison to give their answer, and,
should it be in the negative, they must abide the consequences.” The
garrison made no answer but an occasional cannonade. Heath failed to
follow up his summons by corresponding deeds. He hovered and skirmished
for some days about the outposts and Spyt den Duivel Creek, and then
retired before a threatened snow storm, and the report of an enemy’s
fleet from Rhode Island, with troops under Lord Percy, who might land in
Westchester, and take the besieging force in rear.
Washington, while he spoke of Heath’s failure with indulgence in his
despatches to government, could not but give him a rebuke in a private
letter. “Your summons,” writes he, “as you did not attempt to fulfil
your threats, was not only idle, but farcical; and will not fail of
turning the laugh exceedingly upon us. These things I mention to you as
a friend, for you will perceive they have composed no part of my public
letter.”
But though disappointed in this part of his plan, Washington, having
received reinforcements of militia, continued, with his scanty army, to
carry on his system of annoyance. The situation of Cornwallis, who, but
a short time before, traversed the Jerseys so triumphantly, became daily
more and more irksome. Spies were in his camp, to give notice of every
movement, and foes without to take advantage of it; so that not a
foraging party could sally forth without being waylaid. By degrees he
drew in his troops which were posted about the country, and collected
them at New Brunswick and Amboy, so as to have a communication by water
with New York, whence he was now compelled to draw nearly all his
supplies; “presenting,” to use the words of Hamilton, “the extraordinary
spectacle of a powerful army, straitened within narrow limits by the
phantom of a military force, and never permitted to transgress those
limits with impunity.”
In fact, the recent operations in the Jerseys had suddenly changed the
whole aspect of the war, and given a triumphant close to what had been a
disastrous campaign.
The troops, which for months had been driven from post to post,
apparently an undisciplined rabble, had all at once turned upon their
pursuers, and astounded them by brilliant stratagems and daring
exploits. The commander, whose cautious policy had been sneered at by
enemies, and regarded with impatience by misjudging friends, had all at
once shown that he possessed enterprise, as well as circumspection,
energy as well as endurance, and that beneath his wary coldness lurked a
fire to break forth at the proper moment. This year’s campaign, the most
critical one of the war, and especially the part of it which occurred in
the Jerseys, was the ordeal that made his great qualities fully
appreciated by his countrymen, and gained for him from the statesmen and
generals of Europe the appellation of the AMERICAN FABIUS.
END OF VOL. II.
-----
Footnote 1:
Mrs. Adams to John Adams, 1775.
Footnote 2:
Walpole to the Hon. W. S. Conway.
Footnote 3:
The Rev. William Emerson.
Footnote 4:
In after years distinguished as a historical painter.
Footnote 5:
Graydon’s Memoirs, p. 138.
Footnote 6:
Thacher’s Military Journal, p. 37.
Footnote 7:
Letter to the President of Congress, Aug. 4.
Footnote 8:
Reed to Thomas Bradford. Life and Correspondence, vol. i. p. 118.
Footnote 9:
Arnold to Mass. Comm. of Safety. Am. Arch. ii. 557.
Footnote 10:
Force’s Am. Archives, ii. 1649.
Footnote 11:
Am. Archives, 4th Series, iii. 17.
Footnote 12:
Life of Reed, vol. i. 119.
Footnote 13:
Am. Archives, 4th Series, iii. 754.
Footnote 14:
Am. Archives, III. 800.
Footnote 15:
Remembrancer, ii. 51.
Footnote 16:
Gov. Trumbull to Washington. Sparks’ Corresp. of the Rev., i. 27.
Footnote 17:
Holmes’s Annals, ii. 220.
Footnote 18:
Letter of P. Jones.
Footnote 19:
Letter from Gen. Greene to Gov. Cooke.
Footnote 20:
Letter to the President of Congress.
Footnote 21:
Am. Archives, iii. 1145.
Footnote 22:
See Life of Gerry, 109.
Footnote 23:
Life of Dr. Belknap, p. 96. The doctor was present at the above-cited
conversation.
Footnote 24:
Thacher’s Military Journal, p. 50.
Footnote 25:
Letter to William Palfrey. Sparks, iii. 158.
Footnote 26:
Washington to the President of Congress, Nov. 8.
Footnote 27:
Greene to Dep. Gov. Ward. Am. Arch. 4th Series, iii. 1145.
Footnote 28:
Washington to the President of Congress, Nov. 19th.
Footnote 29:
Letter Book of Gen. Thomas. MS.
Footnote 30:
See Letter of Gen. Greene to Samuel Ward. Am. Arch. 4th Series, vol.
iv.
Footnote 31:
Sparks. Washington’s Writings, vol. iii. p. 194.
Footnote 32:
Thomas Walker, a merchant of Montreal, who, accused of traitorous
dealings with the Americans, had been thrown into prison during
Prescott’s sway, and his country-house burnt down, undertook a journey
to Philadelphia in the depth of winter, when he understood the general
was a captive there, trusting to obtain satisfaction for his
ill-treatment. To his great surprise, he found Mr. Prescott lodged in
the best tavern of the place, walking or riding at large through
Philadelphia and Bucks counties, feasting with gentlemen of the first
rank in the province, and keeping a levée for the reception of the
grandees. In consequence of which unaccountable phenomena, and the
little prospect of his obtaining any adequate redress in the present
unsettled state of public affairs, Mr. Walker has returned to
Montreal.—_Am. Archives, 4th Series_ vol. iv. 1178.
Footnote 33:
Graydon’s Memoirs, p. 154.
Footnote 34:
Letters of Mr. Adams, vol. i. p. 85.
Footnote 35:
Adams’s Letters, vol. ii. p. 80. Adams adds, that they made him “low
bows and scrapes”—a kind of homage never paid by an Indian warrior.
Footnote 36:
From memoranda written at an advanced age, by the late Hon. Israel
Trask; who, when but ten years old, was in the camp at Cambridge with
his father, who was a lieutenant.
Footnote 37:
Lee to Rich. Henry Lee. Am. Archives, 4th Series, iv. 248.
Footnote 38:
Washington to Gov. Cooke. Sparks, iii. 227.
Footnote 39:
Greene to Henry Ward.
Footnote 40:
Letter of Washington to the President of Congress. Dec. 31.
Footnote 41:
Am. Archives, 4th Series, iii. 1281.
Footnote 42:
Adams to Washington, Corr. of Rev., i. 113.
Footnote 43:
Montgomery to Schuyler, Dec. 5.
Footnote 44:
Life of John Lamb, p. 125.
Footnote 45:
Civil War in America, vol. i. p. 112.
Footnote 46:
See Arnold’s Letter. Remembrancer, ii. 368.
Footnote 47:
Remembrancer, vol. iii.
Footnote 48:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, iv. 941.
Footnote 49:
Fred. Rhinelander to Peter Van Schaack, Feb. 23.
Footnote 50:
Am. Archives, v. 425.
Footnote 51:
Fred. Rhinelander to Peter Van Schaack.
Footnote 52:
Am. Archives, 4th Series, v. 425.
Footnote 53:
Oration of the Hon. Edward Everett at Dorchester, July 4th, 1855.
Footnote 54:
Remembrancer, vol. iii. p. 108.
Footnote 55:
Letter to John A. Washington, Am. Arch. 4th Series, v, 560.
Footnote 56:
Frothingham, Siege of Boston, 310.
Footnote 57:
Iron balls, with four sharp points, to wound the feet of men or
horses.
Footnote 58:
Lee’s Memoirs, p. 162.
Footnote 59:
Thacher’s Mil. Journal, p. 50.
Footnote 60:
Barrow’s Life of Earl Howe, p. 400.
Footnote 61:
Force’s Am. Archives, 4th Series, v. 562.
Footnote 62:
Force’s Am. Archives, 4th Series, vol. v. 792.
Footnote 63:
Remembrancer, vol. iii. p. 85.
Footnote 64:
Letter to the President of Congress, 5th May.
Footnote 65:
Carleton to Lord George Germaine, May 14.
Footnote 66:
General Thomas to Washington, May 8th.
Footnote 67:
Washington to Schuyler, May 17.
Footnote 68:
Washington to Schuyler, May 21.
Footnote 69:
The following statement of the batteries at New York, we find dated
May 22d.
_The Grand Battery_, on the south part of the town.
_Fort George_, immediately above it.
_White Hall Battery_, on the left of the Grand Battery.
_Oyster Battery_, behind General Washington’s head-quarters.
_Grenadier Battery_, near the Brew House on the North River.
_Jersey Battery_, on the left of the Grenadier Battery.
_Bayard’s Hill Redoubt_, on Bayard’s Hill.
_Spencer’s Redoubt_, on the hill where his brigade is encamped.
_Waterbury’s Battery_ (fascines), on a wharf below this hill.
_Badlam’s Redoubt_, on a hill near the Jews’ burying ground.
Footnote 70:
Arnold to the Commis. of Cong. 27th May.
Footnote 71:
Washington to the President of Congress, July 12, 1776.
Footnote 72:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, vi. 1177.
Footnote 73:
Washington to the President of Congress, June 28.
Footnote 74:
As a specimen of the reports which circulated throughout the country,
concerning this conspiracy, we give an extract from a letter, written
from Wethersfield, in Connecticut, 9th of July, 1776, by the Reverend
John Marsh.
“You have heard of the infernal plot that has been discovered. About
ten days before any of the conspirators were taken up, a woman went to
the general and desired a private audience. He granted it to her, and
she let him know that his life was in danger, and gave him such an
account of the conspiracy as gained his confidence. He opened the
matter to a few friends, on whom he could depend. A strict watch was
kept night and day, until a favorable opportunity occurred; when the
general went to bed as usual, arose about two o’clock, told his lady
he was a going, with some of the Provincial Congress, to order some
tories seized—desired she would make herself easy, and go to sleep. He
went off without any of his aides-de-camp, except the captain of his
life-guard, was joined by a number of chosen men, with lanterns, and
proper instruments to break open houses, and before six o’clock next
morning, had forty men under guard at the City Hall, among whom was
the mayor of the city, several merchants, and five or six of his own
life-guard. Upon examination, one Forbes confessed that the plan was
to assassinate the general, and as many of the superior officers as
they could, and to blow up the magazine upon the appearance of the
enemy’s fleet, and to go off in boats prepared for that purpose to
join the enemy. Thos. Hickey, who has been executed, went from this
place. He came from Ireland a few years ago. What will be done with
the mayor is uncertain. He can’t be tried by court-martial, and, it is
said, there is no law of that colony by which he can be condemned. May
he have his deserts.”
Footnote 75:
Extracts from minutes of the committee, Am. Archives, 4th S. vi. 1112.
Footnote 76:
Governor Tryon, in a letter dated about this time from on board of the
Duchess of Gordon, off Staten Island, writes: “The testimony given by
the inhabitants of the island, of loyalty to his majesty, and
attachment to his government, I flatter myself will be general
throughout the province, as soon as the army gets the main body of the
rebels between them and the sea; which will leave all the back country
open to the command of the king’s friends, and yield a plentiful
resource of provisions for the army, and place them in a better
situation to cut off the rebels’ retreat when forced from their strong
hold.”—_Am. Arch. 5th S._ i. 122.
Footnote 77:
Orderly book, July 9, Sparks, iii 456.
Footnote 78:
Letter of Mr. Dennis de Berdt, to Mr. Joseph Reed. Am. Archives, 5th
Series, i. 372.
Footnote 79:
Col. John Trumbull’s Autobiography, p. 285, Appendix.
Footnote 80:
S. Adams to R. H. Lee. Am. Arch. 5th Series, i. 347.
Footnote 81:
Gov. Trumbull to Mr. William Williams.
Footnote 82:
Life of Reed, vol. i. p. 239.
Footnote 83:
Graydon’s Memoirs, p. 155.
Footnote 84:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, i. 175.
Footnote 85:
Webb to Gov. Trumbull.
Footnote 86:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, i. 192.
Footnote 87:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, i. 513.
Footnote 88:
Am. Archives, 4th Series, v. 1112.
Footnote 89:
Hist. Civil War in America. Dublin, 1779. Annual Register.
Footnote 90:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, i. 155.
Footnote 91:
Orderly Book, Aug. 3, as cited by Sparks. Writings of Washington, vol.
iv. p. 28.
Footnote 92:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, i. 887.
Footnote 93:
General orders, Aug. 8th, show the feverish state of affairs in the
city. “As the movements of the enemy, and intelligence by deserters,
give the utmost reason to believe that the great struggle in which we
are contending for every thing dear to us and our posterity is near at
hand, the general most earnestly recommends the closest attention to
the state of the men’s arms, ammunition, and flints; that if we should
be suddenly called to action, nothing of this kind may be to provide.
And he does most anxiously exhort both officers and soldiers not to be
out of their quarters or encampments, especially in the morning, or
upon the tide of flood.
“A flag in the daytime, or a light at night, in the fort on Bayard’s
Hill, with three guns from the same place fired quick but distinct, is
to be considered as a signal for the troops to repair to their alarm
posts, and prepare for action. And that the alarm may be more
effectually given, the drums are immediately to beat to arms upon the
signal being given from Bayard’s Hill. This order is not to be
considered as countermanding the firing two guns at Fort George, as
formerly ordered. That is also to be done on an alarm, but the flag
will not be hoisted at the old head-quarters in Broadway.”—_Am.
Archives, 5th Series_, i. 912.
Footnote 94:
Heath to Washington, Aug. 17–18.
Footnote 95:
Washington to the President of Congress.
Footnote 96:
Atlee to Col. Rodney. Sparks, iv. 516.
Footnote 97:
Letter from an American officer. Am. Archives, 5th Series, ii. 108.
Footnote 98:
Letter from a Marylander. Idem, 5th Series, i. 1232.
Footnote 99:
General Howe to Lord G. Germaine. Remembrancer, iii. 347.
Footnote 100:
Howe states the prisoners at 1094, and computes the whole American
loss at 3,300.
Footnote 101:
Graydon’s Memoirs, edited by I. S. Littell, p. 167.
Footnote 102:
Hist. Long Island, p. 258.
Footnote 103:
Force’s Am. Archives, 5th Series, ii. 123.
Footnote 104:
Force’s Am. Archives, 5th Series, ii. 168.
Footnote 105:
Life of Reed, i. 231.
Footnote 106:
Civil War, vol, i, p. 190.
Footnote 107:
Franklin’s Writings, v. 103.
Footnote 108:
Report of the Comm. to Cong., Sept. 13, 1776.
Footnote 109:
Letter to the President of Congress.
Footnote 110:
Force’s Am. Archives, 5th Series, ii. 182.
Footnote 111:
Col. Babcock to Gov. Cooke. Am. Archives, 5th Series, ii. 443.
Footnote 112:
Reed to Mrs. Reed.
Footnote 113:
Letter of Col. Babcock to Gov. Cooke.
Footnote 114:
Graydon’s Memoirs, Littell’s ed., p. 174. General Greene, in a letter
to a friend, writes: “We made a miserable, disorderly retreat from New
York, owing to the conduct of the militia, who ran at the appearance
of the enemy’s advanced guard. Fellows’ and Parsons’ brigades ran away
from about fifty men, and left his excellency on the ground, within
eighty yards of the enemy, so vexed at the infamous conduct of his
troops, that he sought death rather than life.”
Footnote 115:
Peabody, Life of Putnam. Sparks’ Am. Biog., vii. 189.
Footnote 116:
Thacher’s Military Journal, p. 70.
Footnote 117:
The portrait of Miss Mary Philipse is still to be seen in the
possession of Frederick Phillips, Esquire, at the Grange, on the
Highlands opposite West Point.
Footnote 118:
Col. Ewing to the Maryland Comm. of Safety.
Footnote 119:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, vol. ii. 921.
Footnote 120:
Heath’s Memoirs.
Footnote 121:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, ii. 1008.
Footnote 122:
Properly Throck’s Neck, from Throckmorton, the name of the original
proprietor.
Footnote 123:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, ii. 1038.
Footnote 124:
George Clinton to John McKesson, Oct. 31. Am. Archives, 5th Series,
ii. 1312.
Footnote 125:
Tench Tilghman to William Duer, Oct. 31.
Footnote 126:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, iii. 618.
Footnote 127:
Heath’s Memoirs.
Footnote 128:
Civil War in America, vol. i. p. 212.
Footnote 129:
Civil war in America, i. 211.
Footnote 130:
Civil War in America, vol. i. p. 214.
Footnote 131:
W. B. Reed’s Life of Reed, i. 252.
Footnote 132:
Sir William Howe to Lord George Germaine.
Footnote 133:
Heath’s Memoirs, p. 86.
Footnote 134:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, iii. 780.
Footnote 135:
The number of prisoners, as returned by Sir William Howe, was 2,813 of
whom 2,607 were privates. They were marched off to New York at
midnight.
Footnote 136:
Some writers have stated that Cornwallis crossed on the 18th. They
have been misled by a letter of Sir William Howe, which gives that
date. Lord Howe, in a letter to the Secretary of the Admiralty, gives
the date we have stated (the 20th), which is the true one.
Footnote 137:
Memoirs of Reed, i. 255.
Footnote 138:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, iii. 811.
Footnote 139:
We cannot dismiss this painful incident in Washington’s life, without
a prospective note on the subject. Reed was really of too generous and
intelligent a nature not to be aware of the immense value of the
friendship he had put at hazard. He grieved over his mistake,
especially as after events showed more and more the majestic greatness
of Washington’s character. A letter in the following year, in which he
sought to convince Washington of his sincere and devoted attachment,
is really touching in its appeals. We are happy to add, that it
appears to have been successful, and to have restored, in a great
measure, their relations of friendly confidence.
Footnote 140:
Gordon’s Hist. Am. War, ii. p. 129.
Footnote 141:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, iii. 1037.
Footnote 142:
The above scene is given almost literally from General Heath’s
Memoirs.
Footnote 143:
Reed to the President of Congress.
Footnote 144:
Washington to Gov. Trumbull, 14th Dec.
Footnote 145:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, iii. 1121.
Footnote 146:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, iii. 1138.
Footnote 147:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, iii. 1201.
Footnote 148:
Jos. Trumbull to Gov. Trumbull.—_Am. Archives, 5th Series_, iii. 1265.
Footnote 149:
Idem.
Footnote 150:
American Crisis, No. 1.
Footnote 151:
Letter to the President of Congress.
Footnote 152:
Seldom has a name of so few letters been spelled so many ways as that
of this commander. We find it written Rall in the military journals
before us; yet we adhere to the one hitherto adopted by us, apparently
on good authority.
Footnote 153:
Tagebuch eines Hessischen officiers.—MS.
Footnote 154:
Tagebuch des corporals Johannes Reuber.—MS.
Footnote 155:
Washington to Gates. Gates’s papers.
Footnote 156:
Who it was that made this attack upon the outpost is not clearly
ascertained. The Hessian lieutenant who commanded at the picket, says
it was a patrol sent out by Washington, under command of a captain, to
reconnoitre, with strict orders not to engage, but if discovered, to
retire instantly as silently as possible. Colonel Reed, in a
memorandum, says, it was an advance party returning from the Jerseys
to Pennsylvania.—_See Life and Corresp._ vol. i. p. 277.
Footnote 157:
Wilkinson’s Memoirs, vol. i. p. 129.
Footnote 158:
The lieutenant gives the latter number on the authority of Lord
Stirling; but his lordship meant the whole number of men intended for
the three several attacks. The force that actually crossed with
Washington was what we have stated.
Footnote 159:
Journal of Lieut. Piel.
Footnote 160:
Tagebuch des corporals Johannes Reuber. MS.
Footnote 161:
Life and Correspondence of Pres. Reed, vol. i. p. 281.
Footnote 162:
Am. Archives, 5th Series, iii. 1510.
Footnote 163:
Life of Reed, i. 282.
Footnote 164:
See Washington to Col. Reed, Jan. 15.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
Page Changed from Changed to
87 colonies, who, said he, “carry colonies, who, said he, “carry
the spirt of freedom into the the spirit of freedom into the
124 resentment actuate his conduct a resentment actuate his conduct
degree equal to the destruction to a degree equal to the
destruction
127 the term of enlistment was at an the term of enlistment was at an
end. Scare could the disbanding end. Scarce could the disbanding
201 by this time much improved, and by this time much improved, and
in high spirts, marched out in high spirits, marched out
349 take place; and so great had taken place; and so great had
been the drain on the militia of been the drain on the militia of
408 about in very direction for about in every direction for
assistance. Colonel Reed, on assistance. Colonel Reed, on
whom whom
461 especially sneak of the especially speak of the
scoldings they received from old scoldings they received from old
women women
● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
● Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last
chapter.
● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
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