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BATTLES OF AMERICA 
 
 BY 
 
 SEA AND LAND 
 
 WITH 
 
 BIOGRAPHIES OF NAVAL AND MILITARY COMMANDERS. 
 
 VOLUME I. 
 
 COLONIAL AND REVOLUTIONARY. 
 
 BY ROBERT TOMES, M. D. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH NUMEROUS STEEL ENGRAVINGS, 
 
 NEW YORK 
 JAMES S. VIRTUE 
 
 12 DEY STEEET. 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1878, BY ROBERT TOMES. 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 COLONIAL AND REVOLUTIONARY. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 BATTLE OF BUNKER S HILL - Frontispiece. 
 
 WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE Vignette Title. 
 
 THE SIEGE OF LOUISBURG 2 
 
 FALL OF BRADDOCK - 7 
 
 WASHINGTON RAISING THE BRITISH FLAG AT FORT DU QUESNE Io6 
 
 WOLFE S INTERVIEW WITH PITT, BEFORE HIS DEPARTURE FOR CANADA - 108 
 
 THE STRUGGLE ON CONCORD BRIDGE 145 
 
 SPAULDING MONUMENT, FOREST HILL CEMETERY, BUFFALO - I?! 
 
 GENERAL HOWE EVACUATING BOSTON - 251 
 
 INTERVIEW OF HOWE*S MESSENGER WITH WASHINGTON - 310 
 
 LORD STIRLING AT THE BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND - 328 
 
 BATTLE OF HARLEM - 354 
 
 WASHINGTON CROSSING THE DELAWARE - ~ 4 2 ^ 
 
 BATTLE OF PRINCETON " 435 
 
 GENERAL STARK AT BENNINGTON - 5 22 
 
 LAFAYETTE WOUNDED " 534 
 
 SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE 573 
 
 MOLL PITCHER - " "4 1 
 
 INDIAN MASSACRE AT WILKESBARRE, (VALLEY OF WYOMING) - 654 
 
 LAST MOMENTS OF MAJOR ANDRE " 7 8 7 
 
 DEATH OF FERGUSON, AT KING S MOUNTAIN 800 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 To the general reader history would be uninteresting were it not for its 
 battle scenes. Take the battle scenes out of the famous histories which have 
 come down to us from Ancient Greece and Rome, and what would be left of 
 them ? It is the battle pictures which give life to the pages of Xenophon and 
 Thucydides, of Livy and Tacitus ; and the modern historians have found it as 
 much a pleasure as a necessity to dwell upon these scenes in which nations are 
 seen struggling against some fierce internal enemy, or measuring their strength 
 with a powerful foreign foe. What more readable book than Napier s History 
 of the Peninsular War ? Gibbon is nevermore brilliant than when he lingers 
 over a battle scene. And who would read through the bulky volumes of Alison 
 and Thiers were it not for the wars of the Great Napoleon, which occupy the 
 chief portions of the narrative. 
 
 It is the object of the author to present in detail in the following pages, the 
 great battles which have been associated with the rise and progress of America ; 
 and it is his confident belief that the work will commend itself to all who take 
 any interest in the welfare and prosperity of the Great Republic. 
 
 History seems to teach that conflict and progress are convertible terms ; 
 and, indeed, no Nation has ever risen to eminence that has not passed through a 
 succession of conflicts, either within itself, or in defensive war against the 
 encroachments of powerful neighbors. To mark the course of these, and to 
 observe how victory almost always has finally remained with a people true to 
 themselves and firmly united against the aggressor, however powerful, is a source 
 of unmingled satisfaction to every friend of man ; and, indeed, nothing can more 
 excite the sympathy of the right-minded than to follow in history the fortunes of 
 a heroic people, struggling for the preservation of independence and liberty 
 against overwhelming forces, and finally throwing off the oppressor by force of. 
 heroism and superior capacity for self-sacrifice and perseverance. 
 
 Such a series of conflicts America has passed through ; and it is pro 
 posed in this work to give a compendious account of the struggles and heroic 
 conflicts by which it has risen from the condition of a few feeble and scattered 
 
r*" 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 colonies to a position among the first, if not the very first, of the great Nations 
 of the modern world, and to indicate therefrom something of the future grandeur 
 that awaits them. 
 
 It will adopt tl^e order of time, and begin with the colonial struggle with the 
 French, in the course of which occurred the capture and siege of Louisbourg, 
 accomplished mainly by the daring and energy of the men of New England ; the 
 disastrous defeat and death of General Braddock, memorable as the scene of 
 Washington s early distinction, the loss of Fort William Henry, the capture of 
 Fort Du Quesne, the battle on the Heights of Abraham, the death of Wolfe and 
 Montcalm, and the capture of Quebec. 
 
 It will then take up the Revolutionary War, and omit no conflict of those 
 days which tried men s souls. From the battle of Lexington to the surrender at 
 Yorktown, every contest will be described : the struggle on Concord Bridge, the 
 capture of Ticonderoga by Ethan Allen and the "Green Mountain Boys," the 
 battle of Bunker s Hill, in which the provincials first discovered that they were 
 a match for British regulars, the surrender of Montreal and the unsuccessful 
 siege of Quebec, the capture of Johnstown by Schuyler, the defeat of Lord 
 Dunmorc in Virginia, the British evacuation of Boston, the defence of Charles 
 ton and Fort Sullivan by General Moultrie, the battle of Long Island, the 
 evacuation of New York by the Patriot forces, the battles of Harlem and White 
 Plains, the siege and capture of Fort Washington by the British, the naval 
 engagement on Lake Champlain, the battles of Trenton and Princeton, the fall of 
 Ticonderoga and the battle of Hubbardtown, the battle at Fort Stanwix and the 
 death of Herkimer, the battles of Bennington and the Brandywine and Bemis s 
 Heights, followed by the surrender of Burgoj iie, the battles of Gcrmantown 
 and Monmouth, the massacre at Wyoming, the defence of Charleston, the capture 
 of Vincennes. the storming of Stony Point, the exploits of Paul Jones, and the 
 desperate fight between the Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis, the disastrous 
 assault on Savannah under D Estaing and Lincoln, the fall of Charleston, the 
 battles of Camclen, King s Mountain, the Cowpens, Guilford Court House, 
 Hobkirk s Hill and Eutaw Springs, the siege of Yorktown and the surrender of 
 Cornwallis, with all the minor incidents and exploits that contributed to make 
 the war memorable, and the States independent. 
 
 Then, also in the order of time, will come the battles of the War of 1812, 
 brought about by arbitrary French decrees and the British orders in council, 
 together with the right of search claimed by British cruisers. After sketching 
 the affairs of the Leopard and the Chesapeake, and the President and Little Belt, 
 and Harrison s victory at Tippecanoe events that immediately preceded and 
 hastened the outbreak of actual hostilities will be narrated the long series of 
 triumphs, with a few reverses, of the American Navy, so gratifying at home, and 
 
INTRODUCTION. Ill 
 
 producing such astonishment in Europe, among which may be named as 
 deserving the reader s special attention, the memorable chase of the frigate 
 Constitution by a British squadron, the battles between the Alert and the Essex, 
 the Guerriere and the Constitution, the daring exploits of Decatur at Tripoli, 
 and the capture of the Macedonia, the battles between the Frolic and the Wasp, 
 the Constitution and the Java, the Hornet and the Peacock, the Chesapeake and 
 the Shannon, the Pelican and the Argus, the Enterprise and the Boxer, the 
 Essex and the Pho3be, off Valparaiso, the battles of Lakes Erie and Champlain, 
 and other less memorable sea fights, in which American courage and daring were 
 conspicuous. 
 
 Turning to military operations, it will be seen that though at first these were 
 less fortunate, there were not wanting displays of daring and energy, worthy of 
 more brilliant success. It will be necessary to tell of the shameful surrender of 
 General Hull at Detroit, and of the massacre of Captain Heald s command at 
 the beginning of the war, and subsequently of the surrender of Winchester and 
 the massacres at the Eiver Eaisin and Fort Mines. Less painful will be the task 
 of the historian in narrating Taylor s gallant defence of Fort Harrison, the battle 
 of Queenstown and the defence of Fort Niagara, and of Fort Stephenson by 
 Croghan, the siege of Fort Meigs and the capture of York (now the large and 
 nourishing City of Toronto) and Fort George, the battle of Sackett s Harbor, the 
 battle of the Thames and death of Tecumseh, the battles of Chippewa, Lundy s 
 Lane, Bladensburg, Baltimore, and New Orleans one of the memorable battles 
 of the world. 
 
 In the War with Mexico the Nation will be exhibited no longer contending 
 with the superior forces of an aggressive European Power, but taking the 
 offensive to secure the independence of Texas, threatened by the persistent 
 claims of the Mexicans. In the account of this war the historian has little more 
 to do than to recount a succession of victories. The superiority of the American 
 troops, in everything but numbers, soon made it evident that there could be only 
 one conclusion to a contest between Anglo-Saxon and Mexican. Beginning with 
 the disaster to Colonel Thornton s command, then will follow the world-renowned 
 battles of Palo- Alto and Kesaca-de-la-Palma, of the gallant defence of Fort 
 Brown, of the battles of Monterey and Buena Vista, El Paso and Sacramento, 
 the siege and capture of Vera Cruz, the battles of Cerro Gordo, Contreras and 
 El Molino del Rey, the capture of Chapultepec, and the surrender and occupation 
 of the City of Mexico the crowning triumph of the war. 
 
 In the Four Years War into which the Nation was permitted to fall, will be 
 narrated a series of battles of a magnitude with few parallels in modern times, 
 as might be expected when men of the same race and country were arrayed 
 against each other in vast armies of equal numbers, and commanded by officers 
 
IV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of similar experience and training, and whose operations extended through 
 every Southern State, there will be seen no longer, as in Mexico, a rapid 
 succession of victories, but a series of persistent and terrific struggles, of which 
 the termination might well seem doubtful to European observers. From the first 
 gun fired on Fort Sumter, whose echoes rang throughout the world, to the final 
 surrender of General Lee, occurred a vast multitude of actions and operations, on 
 land and sea, of which only a few of the more prominent can be named here. It 
 will be the duty of the historian to describe the battles of Booneville, Rich 
 Mountain and Carrack s Ford, the disastrous defeat of Bull Run, the battle of 
 Springfield, the bombardment of Fort Hatteras, the battles of Ball s Bluff and 
 Drainsville, the capture of Port Royal, the battle of Mill Spring, the capture of 
 Forts Henry and Donelson and of Nashville, the battle of Pea Ridge, the battle 
 between the Monitor and the Merrimac, the battles of Winchester the battle at 
 Pittsburg Landing and Shiloh, the capture of New Orleans, McClellan s siege of 
 Yorktown, the battle of Williamsburg, the attack at Drury s Bluff, the battles 
 of Hanover Court House, Fair Oaks and Green Pines, the naval battle before 
 Memphis, the Seven Days battles on the Peninsula, the battles of South Mountain, 
 Antietam and Fredericksburg, the tedious siege of Yicksbnrg and Charleston 
 and Fort Sumter and Petersburg, the bombardment of Fort Fisher, Farragut s 
 twenty days work at Mobile, the engagement between the Kearsarge and 
 Alabama, the great battles of Chancellorsville, Salem Heights, Lookout Moun 
 tain, the Wilderness, Spottsylvania Court House, Cold Harbor, the Chickahominy, 
 Atlanta, Nashville and Five Forks, Sheridan s battles in the Shenandoah Valley, 
 Sherman s great march to the sea, and the brilliant closing events of the war. 
 
 But attractive, as it is hoped the literary portion of this work will be, the 
 pictorial illustrations all steel engravings of the first class will be pronounced 
 unrivalled for their beauty and accuracy. These will be profusely distributed, 
 and will consist of battles on sea and land, accurate pictures of battle-fields, 
 fortresses, and scenes of memorable events ; also fine portraits of all the more 
 distinguished military and naval commanders. Besides which will be given a 
 number of beautifully colored maps, by means of which the reader may readily 
 follow the movements of armies in the fields. 
 
 In brief, it is confidently anticipated that "The Battles of America" will be 
 made so complete a work that nothing can be added to it with advantage ; and 
 that, in all time to come, the United States may have no more battles to record, 
 but that peace may become the true panoply of all Nations. 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA, 
 
 PART I, COLONIAL BATTLES, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Rivalry between England and France in the Old World revived in the New. France s Lnst of Dominion m Amer 
 ica. Jealousy of English Colonists. Frequent Conflicts, with no Results but Spilling of Blood. Louis the Four 
 teenth s Contemptuous Disregard of his American Subjects. His Fatal Concessions to Great Britain by the Treaty 
 of Utrecht. The Consequent Danger of Canada. The French guard against it by the Founding of Louisburg. 
 Its Extensive Fortifications. The Jealousy of the English Colonists excited. Their Trade endangered. The French 
 deemed a Horde of Dangerous Interlopers. Anxiety to get rid of them. The French commence Hostilities. Can- 
 seau attacked by the French and captured. Annapolis repels the Invaders. New England aroused Governor Shir 
 ley, of Massachusetts, boldly resolves upon a Secret Expedition against Louisburg. The Secret disclosed by a Pious 
 Member of the General Court. Shirley asks the Aid of the Home Government for the Defence of Nova Scotia. So 
 licits the Assistance of the English West-India Fleet. Shirley opposed by the Legislature. He finally triumphs over 
 the Opposition. Massachusetts foremost in voting Men and Money. Land-Forces and the Fleet of New England. 
 Embarrassment of the Governor in the Choice of a Commander of the Expedition. Colonel William Peppercll finally 
 chosen. Governor Wentworth passed over, on the Score of Ill-Health. Wentworth, disappointed, declares he nas 
 thrown away his Crutches, and offers his Services, but too late. Pcpperell hesitates to accept. The famous Whitcfield 
 advises him religiously. The Expedition against Louisburg a Religious Crusade. The Pious Enthusiasm of the 
 People. Pepperell s Origin, Life, and Character. A Great Merchant. Immense Popularity. Military Experience. 
 Recruits crowd to his Standard. Shirley, anxious to take Louisburg by a Coup de Main, cuts off all Communication 
 with the Place. The Expedition prepares to sail. A Heavy Blow, and Great Discouragement. Admiral Warren, 
 of the West-India Station, at the Last Moment, refuses to co-operate. Prayers and Sermons. Expedition sails for 
 Canseau. 
 
 THE rivalry between England and 
 France in the Old World was revived in 
 the New under circumstances calculated 
 no less to excite jealousy, and stir up con 
 tention, than those which had for ages 
 brought these tw r o nations in another 
 hemisphere into almost constant conflict. 
 As in Europe, so in America, the English 
 find French were near neighbors; and 
 with this proximity of two different and 
 aspiring people, came naturally a clash 
 ing of interests, and repeated struggles 
 for supremacy. France, in possession of 
 
 Canada and Louisiana, was, with its usual 
 lust of dominion, eager to enlarge the 
 boundaries of its American territory: with 
 this view, she claimed the whole region 
 which extended back of the original Brit 
 ish colonies from the mouth of the St. 
 Lawrence to that of the Mississippi, and 
 strove on every occasion to make good 
 her claims by military possession. The 
 English settlers, with their rapidly-devel 
 oping commercial and trading interests, 
 looked at these encroachments with a 
 jealous eye, and sought every opportuni- 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 1713, 
 
 ty to check the advances of their French 
 rivals. Frequent collisions ensued in 
 consequence, and the colonial annals are 
 fall of recorded conflicts between the two 
 competitors for American dominion. The 
 temporary military triumph of the one or 
 the other was the only result of these re 
 peated contests, and the combatants were 
 left, for the most part, in the possession 
 of their original territorial claims. 
 
 In 1713, however, Louis XIV., 
 with a contemptuous disregard of 
 the interests of his American subjects, 
 ceded to Great Britain, by the treaty of 
 Utrecht, the province of Nova Scotia 
 called by the French Acadie Newfound 
 land with its wealth of fisheries, and the 
 territory bordering Hud3on s bay. 
 
 This concession was a fatal blow to 
 French dominion in America. Newfound 
 land and Nova Scotia should have been 
 retained at all hazards by France, as they 
 were, from their position off the mouth 
 of the St. Lawrence, the natural guards to 
 Canada. It is true that the island of Cape 
 Breton, to the west, was reserved for the 
 protection of the Canadian possessions; 
 but its proximity to the coast of New Eng 
 land, and to Nova Scotia from which it 
 was only separated by a narrow strait, 
 exposed it to attack from those quarters. 
 
 The French were alive to the danger 
 incurred by the concessions of the treaty 
 of Utrecht, and strove to secure the safety 
 of their Canadian territory by strongly for 
 tifying Cape Breton, as their only means 
 of guarding the approach to the St. Law 
 rence, and thus protecting the extensive 
 territory of which that river is the outlet. 
 They accordingly founded a walled town 
 
 on a tongue of land, at the southeastern 
 part of Cape Breton, and called it Louis- 
 burg, in honor of their monarch. The 
 most skilful engineers of France were 
 commissioned to fortify it on the most 
 extensive plan, and according to the best 
 approved systems of defence. 
 
 The site of the town and fortifications 
 embraced a circumference of no less than 
 two and a half miles ; while a solid ram 
 part of masonry, with a height of more 
 than thirty feet and a ditch of the width 
 of eighty feet, was constructed to protect 
 every part that was approachable. Tow 
 ard the sea, there was no occasion for 
 more than the defence of a dike and pick 
 ets, since the water here was so shallow 
 and so underspread with dangerous reefs, 
 that there was no danger from the ap 
 proach of armed vessels. The entrance to 
 the harbor was only four hundred yards 
 wide, and this was defended by the con 
 struction of a battery of thirty twenty- 
 eight pounders upon a small island which 
 was conveniently situated in the very 
 centre of the strait. Another battery 
 was built on the land bordering the up 
 per part of the harbor, and directly facing 
 the town. This was termed the Royal 
 battery, and was provided with twenty- 
 eight forty-two and two eighteen-pound 
 cannon. On the elevated ground of the 
 main-land opposite to the fortified island, 
 stood the lighthouse, and at some distance 
 to the north were built the necessary 
 magazines and storehouses. 
 
 The town itself was handsomely con 
 structed of wood and stone, and was en 
 tered through a gate at the west over a 
 drawbridge, which was defended by a cir- 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 LOUISBURG AND ITS FORTIFICATIONS. 
 
 cular battery containing thirteen twenty- 
 four pounders. The cost of the \vhole 
 construction, of town and fortifications, 
 amounted to no less than six millions of 
 dollars ; and such had been the deliber 
 ate care with which the works were con 
 ducted, that they required twenty-five 
 years for their completion. 
 
 The English colonists of the New Eng 
 land coast naturally beheld the rising of 
 this strongly-fortified citadel with anx 
 ious alarm. They began to fear for the 
 safety of their trade and commerce : they 
 saw, in Louisburg, a cover for French 
 cruisers and privateers, which, on the 
 least pretence of hostility, might sail out 
 and pounce upon their merchantmen and 
 fishing-vessels. The English, with a natu 
 ral instinct for trade, had largely devel 
 oped the Atlantic fisheries and commerce, 
 while the French, more intent upon mili 
 tary possession, seemed eager only for 
 the glory of dominion. The latter, there 
 fore, were regarded by the former as a 
 horde of dangerous interlopers, whom it 
 was necessary to get rid of at all hazards, 
 as fatal obstacles to British colonial pros 
 perity. 
 
 Odious, however, as the threatening 
 aspect of the fortified Louisburg was to 
 the New-Englanders, and eager as they 
 were to rid themselves of so dangerous 
 a neighbor, it was not before the French 
 had provoked the attack, that the Eng 
 lish prepared to commence hostilities. 
 
 Nova Scotia, in possession of Great 
 Britain, was poorly defended by two 
 small English garrisons : one on the is 
 land of Canseau, at the mouth of the 
 strait of that name, which separates No 
 
 va Scotia from Cape Breton; and the 
 other at Port Royal, or Annapolis, situ 
 ated to the north. The French com 
 mander at Louisburg, anticipating a dec 
 laration of war between France and Eng 
 land, sent out a detachment of nine 
 hundred men against the garrison 
 of Canseau. The English, consisting only 
 of a single company of soldiers, and sus 
 pecting nothing, were taken by surprise 
 and conveyed to Louisburg as captives. 
 A similar attempt was made upon An 
 napolis; but William Shirley, governor 
 of Massachusetts, anticipating the dan 
 ger, had sent a small force from Boston 
 to the aid of the garrison, which succeed 
 ed with much difficulty in repelling the 
 French attack. 
 
 The colonists of Massachusetts were 
 greatly provoked by these invasions, and 
 prepared to take revenge. Their thoughts 
 naturally turned to Louisburg, the pos 
 session of which by the French was be 
 lieved to be so dangerous to the British 
 colonial interests. The prisoners who 
 had been captured at Canseau and taken 
 to L ouisburg, had been set free. On their 
 arrival in Boston, their imprisonment be 
 came naturally a general topic of conver 
 sation, and served to stimulate the desire 
 for an attack upon the place of their cap 
 tivity. They, moreover, were enabled to 
 give the exactest information in regard 
 to Louisburg and its fortifications. With 
 this definite knowledge, Governor Shir 
 ley conceived the bold idea of getting uj 
 a secret invasion of the French citadel, 
 with the view of taking it by surprise 
 and capturing it at once by a coup de main. 
 Shirley was so bent upon his scheme. 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 and so convinced of the necessity of se 
 crecy, that he extorted from each mem 
 ber of the general court a solemn oath 
 not to divulge his plan. The secret was, 
 however, only kept for a few days ; it 
 having been disclosed through the piety 
 of one whose voice was heard, not only 
 in the legislature, but the church. In 
 his capacity as member of the latter, be 
 ing called upon to pray, he piously in 
 voked the blessing of Heaven upon Shir 
 ley s scheme, and thus disclosed the gov 
 ernor s important secret. The subject 
 now became the common talk, and gen 
 eral opinion was freely expressed against 
 the proposition, as reckless and impossi 
 ble 
 
 Shirley strove even to mystify the 
 British ministry ; and, while he invoked 
 their aid, he carefully concealed from 
 them the exact purpose of his demand. 
 He wrote to the home government, ask 
 ing for the assistance of a naval force, on 
 the plea that Nova Scotia was threatened 
 by the French ; and addressed also a let 
 ter to Warren, who had the naval com 
 mand on the West-India station, and was 
 then at Antigua, soliciting his aid. 
 
 The indefatigable Shirley was not to 
 be balked of his favorite purpose by the 
 opposition of the legislature, which had 
 reported, through a committee, unfavor 
 ably to the attack on Louisburg. He 
 accordingly used his influence with the 
 traders of New England, to prevail upon 
 them to get up a petition to the legisla 
 ture to reconsider its former vote. This 
 was done, and had its effect ; for a new 
 committee was appointed, which report- 
 ed in favor of the expedition. Upon the 
 
 report being warmly and longly discussed, 
 the governor s plan was finally carried 
 by the majority of one. The vote was 
 given ; there was no longer any opposi 
 tion to carrying out its object ; and all the 
 colonists warmly seconded the efforts 01 
 Shirley for the execution of the proposed 
 attack upon Louisburg. 
 
 New England, and particularly Massa 
 chusetts, felt naturally the greatest inter 
 est in the enterprise, and the share borne 
 in it by that portion of the colonies was 
 accordingly the greatest. Massachusetts 
 was foremost, and voted to contribute 
 more than three thousand men. Next 
 came Connecticut, with five hundred ; 
 and then Rhode Island and New Hamp 
 shire, with three hundred each. Aid was 
 solicited from the other colonies, but 
 there was little active sympathy show r n 
 Avith the cause, and New England was 
 left to bear the chief burden. Pennsyl 
 vania, however, sent some provisions, and 
 New York contributed a small supply of 
 artillery. In addition to the land-forces, 
 there were fourteen small armed vessels, 
 with an aggregate of two hundred and 
 four guns, made up of the various cruis 
 ers kept always in service by the sea 
 board colonies. With the transports, the 
 whole fleet amounted to no less than a 
 hundred sail. A provincial, of the name 
 of Edward Tyng, was appointed commo 
 dore of this colonial squadron. 
 
 It was a matter of greater difficulty to 
 find a commander for the land-forces, and 
 a general leader of the expedition. The 
 governor of Massachusetts seemed em 
 barrassed in making a choice, as might 
 naturally have been expected among a 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 WILLIAM PEPPERELL. 
 
 people whose occupations were of com 
 merce and trade. It was not difficult to 
 find among the fishermen, lumberers, sail 
 ors, and mechanics, of New England, har 
 dy and bold men enough for any under 
 taking requiring courage and endurance ; 
 but who among them had that knowl 
 edge of military art necessary to disci 
 pline their rude force into the order re 
 quired for regular warfare ? It is true, 
 there were not wanting those who had 
 gathered their countrymen together from 
 the bench, the field, and the fishery, and 
 led them against the savages, in defence 
 of their lives and property. These were, 
 however, mere Indian skirmishes in which 
 there was no occasion for military art. 
 
 Governor Shirley was supposed to have 
 hesitated for some time between two dis 
 tinguished New-Englanders : Wentworth, 
 governor of New Hampshire, and Colonel 
 William Pepperell, president of the coun 
 cil of Massachusetts. He finally chose 
 the latter, but evidently not without some 
 compunctions of injustice toward the for 
 mer, to whom he wrote, after the appoint 
 ment of Pepperell, to this effect: "It 
 would have been an infinite satisfaction 
 to me, and done great honor to the ex 
 pedition, if your limbs would have per 
 mitted you to take the chief command." 
 Shirley alluded to Wentworth s gout, as 
 his reason for passing him by. The gov 
 ernor of New Hampshire, however, did 
 not care thus to be invalided, and wrote 
 in reply that he had thrown away his 
 crutches, and was ready, in spite of the 
 gout, to march at the head of the expe 
 dition. But it was too late, as Pepperell 
 had already received his appointment. 
 2 
 
 No better selection could probably 
 have been made, in the want of any reg 
 ular military tactician. Pepperell, how 
 ever, was very doubtful of his own capa 
 city for the undertaking, and hesitated 
 to accept the position. Governor Shir 
 ley strenuously urged him to comply, on 
 the ground that his influence with those 
 upon whom the expedition depended for 
 its success could not be dispensed with. 
 He, however, still pondered the matter, 
 and determined to consult his friends be 
 fore coming to a final conclusion. 
 
 At this time, the celebrated George 
 Whitefield,theeloquentMethodist preach 
 er, had reached New England, in the 
 course of his evangelizing labors in Amer 
 ica, and was stopping at the house of 
 Pepperell, in Maine. The host took this 
 occasion of consulting his famous guest 
 in regard to his appointment, and is sup 
 posed to have been influenced by White- 
 field s advice, in his resolution to accept. 
 The divine said, he did not think the 
 scheme very promising ; that the eyes of 
 all would be upon him ; that if it should 
 not succeed, the widows and orphans of 
 the slain would reproach him ; and if it 
 should succeed, many would regard him 
 with envy, and endeavor to eclipse his 
 glory; that he ought, therefore, to go 
 with a single eye, and he would find his 
 strength proportioned to his necessity. 
 
 This was good religious advice, and 
 gave a holy sanction to the enterprise, 
 which seems to have had its influence in 
 determining Pepperell to undertake it, 
 and in inspiring many of the New-Eng 
 land people with a pious ardor in favor 
 of the cause. Many of Whitefield s own 
 
10 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 converts offered themselves with enthu 
 siasm as recruits, and all began to con 
 sider the expedition as a sanctified one. 
 
 There is no doubt that the Puritan feel 
 ing of New England was aroused in reli 
 gious hostility to the French, in conse 
 quence of their Roman Catholic faith. 
 Whitefield himself seems to have given 
 such a direction to the sentiment of New 
 England by the motto which he furnished 
 for the flag of the expedition. Nil des- 
 perandum, Christo duce " With Christ for 
 our leader, nothing is to be despaired of" 
 were the words supplied ; and none 
 could have been better chosen, to give 
 the tone of a religious crusade to the un 
 dertaking. That such, in effect, was the 
 result, may be gathered from the fact 
 that clergymen, with axes on shoulder, 
 prepared to demolish popish images, read 
 ily enlisted for service ; and from such 
 letters as this from one Deacon Gray, ad 
 dressed to Pepperell : " that I could 
 be with you and dear Parson Moody in 
 that church, to destroy the images there 
 set up, and hear the true gospel of our 
 Lord and Saviour there preached ! My 
 wife, who is ill and confined to her bed, 
 yet is so spirited in the affair, on hearing 
 of your taking the command, that she is 
 very willing all her sons should wait on 
 you, though it is outwardly greatly to 
 our damage. One of them has already 
 enlisted, and I know not but there will 
 be more. She sends her duty to you, 
 and says, so long as she has life she shall 
 importunately pray for you." 
 
 There was no man in the whole colony 
 more popular than Pepperell. He was a 
 thorough New-Englander, by birth, edu 
 
 cation, religion, habits, and occupation. 
 His father, at an early age, had emigrated 
 from Wales and settled at Kittery, on the 
 banks of the Piscataqua, the river which 
 separates Maine from New Hampshire. 
 Commencing as a fisherman, he finally 
 reached the more imposing position of a 
 merchant, and became colonially famous 
 for wealth and integrity. 
 
 His son William was born in 1696 at 
 Kittery. His early education was the 
 best that could be supplied by the vil 
 lage school, and consisted only of the ele 
 mentary reading, spelling, and arithme 
 tic. Having soon exhausted these aca 
 demic resources, he was taken into his 
 father s trading establishment, and there 
 finished his education, which was, of 
 course, more of a practical than scholas 
 tic character. The Pepperells were great 
 merchants for those times, and dealt large 
 ly in timber, fish, and Wesi^Indian molas 
 ses, rum, and negroes. 
 
 The elder Pepperell, from a fisherman s 
 apprentice, had passed rapidly through 
 the various transitions of fisherman, pro 
 prietor of fishing-boats, shopkeeper, and 
 factor, until he finally became ship-owner 
 and merchant. He had his coasters to 
 send to the West Indies with lumber, in 
 exchange for sugar and other tropical 
 productions ; his ships to take these and 
 other colonial produce to Europe, and 
 bring back manufactured goods ; and, in 
 fact, he carried on as important commer 
 cial transactions as the colonial trade al 
 lowed. His son William soon became a 
 partner in the paternal house, and add 
 ed rapidly to its importance and wealth. 
 On his father s death, he succeeded him 
 
COLONIAL. J 
 
 MILITARY ARDOR. 
 
 11 
 
 as the principal member of the firm, and 
 in a few years was known throughout 
 New England as the wealthiest and most 
 influential of its merchants. 
 
 Taking an active part in the public 
 concerns of the colony, he soon secured 
 a large share of colonial honor. He suc 
 cessively became justice of the peace, a 
 captain, major, lieutenant-colonel, colonel, 
 and commander-in-chief, of the militia of 
 Maine, and finally member of the coun 
 cil of Massachusetts. It was his military 
 prominence, combined with his great per 
 sonal influence and popularity, which had 
 induced Governor Shirley to give him 
 the command of the expedition about 
 to set out for the attempt upon Louis- 
 burg. 
 
 Pepperell s command as colonel of the 
 militia seems to have inspired him with 
 considerable military ardor. He devoted 
 himself with great spirit to his duties, 
 and, by frequent drills, musters, and pa 
 rades, imparted to his miscellaneous regi 
 ment of fishermen, lumberers, and me 
 chanics, all the discipline of which they 
 were capable. As the neighborhood was 
 particularly exposed to the incursions of 
 surrounding savages, there was the mo 
 tive of constant and imminent danger to 
 prompt to alertness of military prepara 
 tion. The ardor of their commander was 
 thus readily shared by his fellow-colo 
 nists ; and it may well be conceived 
 that the troops of Maine were as effect 
 ive as the best of the irregulars. None 
 could have surpassed them in courage 
 and endurance, and few equalled their 
 skill in the use of the firelock. In the 
 frequent skirmishes with the Indians, 
 
 they had become practised in savage 
 warfare ; while not only their occupa 
 tions as fishermen and lumberers, but 
 their amusements on the sea and in the 
 forest, served to inure them to danger 
 and fatigue, as well as to accustom them 
 to the exercise of their strength and skill. 
 All they required was the practice of act 
 ing together in large bodies; and this 
 they were about learning, for the first 
 time, in the hazardous attempt upon Lou- 
 isburg. 
 
 The recruits came in rapidly, as soon 
 as it was known that Colonel Pepperell 
 had accepted the command of the pro 
 posed expedition. His personal influ 
 ence was so great, that all his immediate 
 neighbors capable of bearing arms seem 
 ed eager to join his standard. The whole 
 town of Berwick turned out almost to a 
 man. There was no difficulty in obtain 
 ing the necessary quota of soldiers for 
 the ranks, but there was some trouble in 
 reconciling the officers to assuming cer 
 tain subordinate positions. Some of these, 
 even in Berwick, were accordingly back 
 ward in offering their services. Pepper- 
 ell, referring to this remissness, wrote : 
 " I have not the least doubt that the com 
 missioned officers in Berwick are as brave 
 and as good men as any in this province, 
 and would willingly venture their lives 
 with their colonel. Please to tell them 
 all I sincerely value and love them, and 
 that should there be occasion for forces 
 to be sent after us, I don t doubt in tin 
 least but they will be ready to come. 1 
 beg all their prayers." 
 
 Governor Shirley was still bent upon 
 his scheme of taking Louisburg by sur- 
 
12 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 prise ; and accordingly, although he had 
 failed to keep the purpose of his expedi 
 tion a secret from his own people, he re 
 solved to use every precaution to mysti 
 fy the French. All communication with 
 Louisburg was cut off, by prohibiting the 
 sailing of colonial vessels to that place ; 
 and it was strictly forbidden for copies 
 to be taken of the orders read to the com 
 panies, or for any soldier to disclose their 
 purport. Shirley s plan of taking Louis- 
 burg by surprise, and carrying it by a 
 coup dc main, was based upon his knowl 
 edge, not only of the strength of that 
 citadel, but of the weakness of the colo- j 
 nial forces. He naturally supposed that 
 an undisciplined militia had not the ne 
 cessary skill, or even the patience, for 
 executing the operations of a systematic 
 siege. He knew, moreover, that the col 
 onists, to a man, would do all that enter 
 prise and courage could do in the want 
 of art, and accordingly trusted for success 
 to these well-known characteristics of the 
 New-England troops. It was, therefore, 
 no Quixotic scheme of Shirley to design 
 a rapid movement, a sudden surprise, and 
 a quick execution, by which the skilled 
 soldier in command of the French for 
 tress would be thrown off his guard, and 
 be prevented from bringing to bear the 
 resources of military art against his un 
 disciplined opponents. The governor of 
 Massachusetts, accordingly, as Bancroft 
 says, " wisest of all, gave instructions for 
 the fleet of a hundred vessels to arrive 
 together at a precise hour; heedless of 
 the surf, to land in the dark on the rocky 
 shore ; to march forthwith, through thick 
 et and bog, to the city and beyond it ; 
 
 and to take the fortress and Royal bat 
 tery by surprise before" daybreak." 
 
 The troops all being raised within the 
 brief period of two months, and to the 
 number of over three thousand, prepared 
 to sail in the fleet now at anchor in the 
 roads of Nantucket. Some of the fleet 
 est of the provincial cruisers were sent 
 in advance, to hover about Louisburg, 
 and intercept all French vessels bound 
 thither. The rest were detained to trans 
 port the provincial forces. A day was 
 now set apart for prayer^ and to invoke 
 the blessing of Heaven upon the expedi 
 tion. Large crowds gathered together 
 on the shore, on the Sunday preceding 
 the day of embarkation ; solemn prayers 
 were offered up to the God of battles, 
 imploring his aid in the coming struggle ; 
 and sermons were delivered in every 
 church, setting forth the holiness of the 
 cause, and urging the duty of each sol 
 dier to do his "manfullest in the service 
 of the Great Captain of our salvation." 
 
 On the day before the departure, a 
 heavy blow and great discouragement 
 came, in an answer from Warren, the 
 commodore of the West-India squadron, 
 to Governor Shirley, refusing to give the 
 aid solicited. The colonial forces had ex 
 pected to be reinforced by this squadron 
 before sailing ; but the cause of the non- 
 arrival of Warren with his ships having 
 been kept a secret by the prudent gov 
 ernor, and only disclosed to Pepperell 
 (now lieutenant-general) and his second 
 in command, General Wolcot, the troops 
 embarked in ignorance, and expected 
 merely a temporary delay of the naval 
 assistance still confidently hoped for. 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 SAILING OF THE EXPEDITION. 
 
 13 
 
 The small settlement of Canseau, in 
 the strait of that name dividing Nova 
 Scotia and Cape Breton, having been de 
 termined upon as the rendezvous, the 
 various vessels set sail. The troops of 
 
 Massachusetts, which formed the larger 
 proportion of the forces, sailed first, on 
 the 24th of March, and were sue- 
 
 1 r 
 
 ceecled at brief intervals by those 
 of New Hampshire and Connecticut. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Arrival at Canseau. Detained by Ice. A proposal to float into Lonisburg upon Icebergs. Encouraged by a Capture. 
 The Judicious Pcppcrell keeps his Troops busy. The Encouraging Arrival of a British Squadron. Admiral Warren. 
 His Life and Character. His Nephew, Sir William Johnson. Pepperell superseded in the Naval Department. 
 His Judicious Behavior. Shirley s Letter. His Desire to give Warren the Pre-eminence. Pepperell tenacious of his 
 Rights. Anxious to secure the Glories of the Coming Conquest for the New-Englanders. The Ice clears away. 
 Departure for Louisburg. The French unexpcctant of the Attack. Sailing into the Bay. Landing. The Alarm of 
 the Fortress. The Enemy put to Flight. The Capture of Morepang. Encampment before the Town. Admiral 
 Warren doing Good Service on the Coast. Colonel Vaughan sent to reconnoitre. The Garrison of the Grand Bat 
 tery frightened by a Smoke. Their Flight. The Hoisting of a Ked Coat. A Sortie from the Fort. The French driven 
 back. The Grand Battery reinstated and held by the Ncw-Englandcrs. The French strive by a Brisk Cannonade to 
 make it too hot to hold. Their Want of Success. The Siege regularly begun. Erection of Batteries. The Diffi 
 culties spiritedly overcome. The Island Battery a Great Annoyance. The Attempt upon it postponed by the Advice 
 of Pepperell. The Town summoned to surrender. The Defiant Answer of the French. Councils-of-War. A De 
 termination to carry Louisburg by Storm. Postponement. The Siege expected to be long. The New-Englanders, 
 however, still hopeful. The Sufferings of the Besiegers. Pcppcrell forced to send to Shirley for Reinforcements. A 
 Heavy Fire opened against the Walls A Breach made. Compliments passed between the Hostile Parties. Split 
 ting of Cannon. Captures by the Fleet. Impatience of the Admiral. Pepperell cautious and temporizing. Another 
 Attempt upon the Island Battery proposed, and again postponed. A Small Triumph for the Enemy. A Gix>at 
 Triumph for the British Fleet. The Capture of the Vigilant. A General Attack by Sea and Land proposed. An 
 Unsuccessful Attempt upon the Island Battery. 
 
 THE vessels with the Massachu 
 setts troops on board reached Can 
 seau on the first of April, and were in a 
 few days joined by the rest. Here they 
 were unfortunately detained, in conse 
 quence of the ice, which, breaking up in 
 that season, had drifted in such masses 
 in and about the harbor of Louisburg, 
 that it was impracticable to attempt its 
 entrance. There was great disappoint 
 ment felt at this untimely detention, by 
 the ardent and sanguine ; and it was even 
 gravely suggested by some, more impul 
 sive and impatient than the rest, to float 
 the troops into Louisburg on the ice ! 
 The men, however, kept up their spirits 
 
 successfully, in spite of the untoward de 
 lay. An opportune chance at an ene 
 my s vessel served to occupy their minds 
 and reinvigorate their hopes. A French 
 colonial vessel, laden with tropical prod 
 uce, rum, and molasses, appeared off the 
 coast, making its way to the port of Lou 
 isburg. The New-England cruisers at 
 once pounced upon it, and, making it 
 an easy capture, brought the prize into 
 Canseau, much to the satisfaction of the 
 impatient invaders. 
 
 Care was taken by the judicious Pep 
 perell to keep his men busy. Some were 
 put to preparing the ammunition ; some 
 were set to building fortifications, struo 
 
14 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPAUT i 
 
 tures, and hospitals, for the more effect 
 ive protection of the small garrison of 
 Canseau; and others were sent out in 
 detachments to practise themselves in 
 skirmishes with the neighboring savages 
 and French. Important information in 
 regard to Louisburg was gathered from 
 those taken captive in these engage 
 ments. 
 
 Three weeks had thus passed with the 
 troops still at Canseau, in consequence 
 of the ice, when the appearance of three 
 large vessels off the harbor was an 
 nounced. These, to the great satisfac 
 tion of the colonists, proved to be British 
 men-of-war, under command of Warren. 
 Soon after this officer had written to Gov 
 ernor Shirley, refusing to co-operate on 
 his own responsibility with the colonial 
 expedition, he received orders from the 
 British government directing him to ren 
 der with his squadron all the aid in his 
 power to the New-England enterprise. 
 
 Warren, who was a prompt officer, im 
 mediately set sail in the Superbe, ac 
 companied by the Launceston and the 
 Mermaid. He was making for the port 
 of Boston, quite unaware of the proposed 
 attack on Louisburg, when he fell in with 
 a New-England vessel, from which he 
 learned that the troops had sailed for 
 Canseau. He accordingly directed his 
 course at once for that place, where the 
 arrival of his three effective men-of-war 
 was now hailed with joyful acclamation. 
 
 Warren was a brave, impulsive Irish 
 man, and a most skilful sailor and judi 
 cious commander. His long service on 
 the American coast had made him famil 
 iar with its navigation, and no naval offi 
 
 cer accordingly could be better fitted to 
 guard provincial seaboard interests. He 
 was, moreover, bound by a family tie to 
 the colonies, having married the daugh 
 ter of James Delancy, lieutenantrgovern- 
 or of New York. He had become also a 
 large landed proprietor, owning an exten 
 sive territory watered by the Mohawk. 
 
 His nephew was the well-known Sir 
 William Johnson, who, having been in 
 vited by his uncle to take charge of his 
 American estates, became so enamored 
 of the wild life on the borders, that he 
 passed the remainder of his years among 
 the Indians, over w 7 hom he exercised an 
 influence perhaps never equalled by any 
 European. These various circumstances 
 served to identify Warren with colonial 
 interests, and caused him to support them 
 with ardor. 
 
 Warren and his ships were a great ac 
 cession to the colonial troops, and their 
 arrival gave increased confidence to all. 
 Pepperell might, perhaps, have been par 
 doned a little feeling of jealousy, on the 
 arrival of the English admiral, who was 
 to supersede him in part of his command. 
 Pepperell had been appointed lieutenant- 
 general and commander-in-chief of both 
 the land and sea forces. He was now re 
 quested, by a letter from Shirley, to make 
 over the command of the colonial fleet 
 to Warren. "You will perceive," says 
 Shirley to Pepperell, " upon your perusal 
 of his majesty s orders to me, that in any 
 attempt against the enemy s settlements, 
 he has plainly given Commodore Warren 
 the command of the shipping or naval 
 force with which I am ordered to assist 
 him ; hence in general upon any expedi- 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 ARRIVAL OF ADMIRAL WARREN. 
 
 tion, which you are sensible must super 
 sede any commission from me, as to any 
 sea-command ; and doubtless Commodore 
 Warren will expect and insist upon the 
 armed vessels with which, since my re 
 ceiving his majesty s orders, I am assist 
 ing him in obedience to the royal com 
 mands, the command of those ships ; and 
 I doubt not, sir, from the extraordinary 
 conduct and vigilance with which you 
 have hitherto acted for his majesty s ser 
 vice, that you will instantly give orders 
 to Tyng and the other cruisers to follow 
 the commodore s directions and orders to 
 them, the omitting of which may create 
 a most unhappy disagreement and vari 
 ance between you and Mr. Warren, which 
 may prove fatal to the service. Had I 
 not received these precise orders from 
 his majesty, which so evidently give Mr. 
 Warren a general command at sea, in all 
 expeditions from hence, I should have 
 insisted upon my command given you 
 over the sea-forces (which, as it is, is only 
 suspended during Captain Warren s pres 
 ence, and would revive upon his going 
 off), against every person whatsoever; 
 and you must be sensible that this is not 
 a preference given to him by me, but 
 only acting in obedience to his majesty s 
 orders." 
 
 It is quite evident that Shirley was 
 particularly anxious to shift the respon 
 sibility of this change from himself, and 
 at the same time not the less desirous of 
 securing as large a share of the command 
 as possible for Warren. It has even been 
 asserted that the governor was desirous 
 of giving the English commodore the en 
 tire control of the expedition. There is 
 
 no occasion, if this be true, to attribute 
 Shirley s conduct to jealousy of his friend 
 Pepperell. It was quite natural that, in 
 his anxiety for the success of the expedi 
 tion, of which he was the originator, the 
 governor should have more faith in the 
 leadership of one who, like Warren, was 
 of established fame, than in Pepperell, 
 who, with all his well-known qualities as 
 a good and true man, had had no oppor 
 tunity of giving proof of his capacity as 
 a military commander. 
 
 Pepperell, though tenacious of his own 
 rights, was the first to welcome Warren s 
 arrival, and did not hesitate to yield his 
 naval command to the English commo 
 dore, although he brooked no interfe 
 rence with his leadership of the land- 
 forces. In Pepperell s first letter to War 
 ren, in which he hurried to congratulate 
 him upon his arrival, he took care at once 
 to define what he supposed to be the es 
 pecial function of the naval branch of the 
 service : " I am confident," he says, " that 
 nothing which the strictest vigilance and 
 prudence can foresee or bravery execute 
 will be wanting on your part, and doubt 
 not you will succeed in preventing ihe in 
 troduction of provisions and succors into Lou- 
 islurg, and that we shall soon have the 
 pleasure of a meeting there." 
 
 Pepperell was a positive, self-confident 
 man, and relied, with all his inexperience 
 and that of his troops, upon his and their 
 efforts mainly for the attempt upon Lou- 
 isburg. He, however, was a prudent man 
 withal, and was not disposed, upon a mere 
 question of etiquette, to quarrel with War 
 ren, to whom and whose ships he looked 
 for such important aid in the approaching 
 
16 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 enterprise. It was now agreed between 
 the two commanders that the naval squad 
 ron should proceed to blockade the har 
 bor of Louisburg, and thus cut off all 
 communication by sea ; while the troops 
 should be transported at the earliest mo 
 ment, and, disembarking at the most con 
 venient point, should attack by land the 
 French citadel. 
 
 The ice did not clear away sufficiently 
 until toward the close of the month of 
 April, to allow of the sailing of the troops. 
 It was thus as late as the 29th of April 
 when the transports weighed anchor and 
 sailed for Louisburg. In accordance with 
 Governor Shirley s design, it was intend 
 ed to reach that place in the dead of 
 night, and therefore the departure from 
 Canseau had taken place early in the 
 morning. Though starting with a fair 
 breeze, the wind in the course of the 
 evening so far lulled, that the vessels did 
 not arrive at their destination until an 
 early hour next day. It was hoped that 
 they would have reached the bay of 
 Chapeaurouge,or Gabarus as it was called 
 by the English, upon the shores of which 
 it was determined to land, without being 
 discovered by the inhabitants of Louis 
 burg. Every precaution had been taken 
 to prevent a knowledge, on the part of 
 the French, of the proposed attack, and 
 with complete success. The English men- 
 of-war had been observed cruising in the 
 neighborhood, but their purpose was not 
 suspected ; while their diligent capture 
 of coasting and other vessels bound to 
 and from Louisburg, put a stop to all 
 communication from without, by which 
 the French might have been made aware 
 
 of their impending danger, and have pro 
 tected themselves accordingly. 
 
 It was not until the New-England fleet 
 of a hundred sail, soon after daybreak on 
 the morning of the last day of April, came 
 sailing into their bay under full canvas, 
 that the French were conscious of their 
 danger. Great was the alarm and great 
 the confusion at Louisburg when the ap 
 proach of so formidable an enemy was 
 observed. There can be little doubt that 
 if the colonial troops (so unexpected was 
 the invasion) had arrived as was intend 
 ed, marched to the town, and made an 
 assault under cover of the night, Louis 
 burg would have fallen at once, and Shir 
 ley s bold design been fully justified by 
 a triumphant success. 
 
 The provincial troops were no less ea 
 ger for the attack than the French were 
 dejected at its prospect. The vessels had 
 hardly come to anchor in the bay, 
 when the boats were lowered and 
 pulled off, loaded down with soldiers, ea 
 ger to reach the shore and commence the 
 affray. As they neared the land within 
 a short distance of the walls of the town, 
 the fort was aroused to a great state of 
 excitement. The bells began to sound a 
 general alarm, and the signal-guns were 
 fired in quick succession. Finally, a de 
 tachment of French troops appeared is 
 suing from the gates of Louisburg, and 
 marching rapidly to the point where the 
 provincials seemed about to land. These 
 latter, however, having made a feint of 
 pulling their boats to a certain spot, sud 
 denly changed their course, and disem 
 barked farther inland, before the enemy 
 could arrive and dispute their landing. 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 FLYING THE RED COAT. 
 
 17 
 
 They had some difficulty in getting safe 
 ly in with their boats, in consequence of 
 the great surf, but finally succeeded ; and 
 had no sooner sprung to the shore, than 
 they became the pursuing force, and 
 rushed eagerly to meet the French, whom 
 they defeated at the first collision, killing 
 seven or eight, and wounding and captu 
 ring as many more, among whom was the 
 French commander Morepang. The rest 
 of the enemy took to their heels and fled 
 back in panic to the town. The provin 
 cials came out of the encounter without 
 any loss, and with only one or two wound 
 ed ; and, being in fine spirits, their com 
 mander was eager to give them a " time 
 for a general push." The troops now 
 succeeded in landing, without fear of mo 
 lestation; and in the course of a few 
 days, the whole force had disembarked, 
 and encamped before the town. In the 
 meantime, Pepperell kept up almost dai 
 ly communication by letter with Warren, 
 who, with his squadron off the mouth of 
 the bay, was doing good service in block 
 ading the harbor, and protecting by the 
 cover of his guns the provincial camp on 
 shore. 
 
 As soon as a sufficient number of the 
 soldiers had landed, Pepperell sent, on 
 the very first day of their arrival, Colonel 
 Vaughan (the same man who had pro 
 posed the bold expedient of floating the 
 troops upon the ice into Louisburg), at 
 the head of a company, to reconnoitre 
 Louisburg and its environs. This officer 
 approached as near as possible to the 
 garrison, and, having let them hear the 
 sound of three hearty cheers, he marched 
 his men to the acclivity of an eminence 
 3 
 
 called Green hill, which overlooked the 
 Royal battery, at some distance from the 
 town, to the northeast of the harbor. 
 Here Vaughan, having arrived at night> 
 fall, found several dwellings and struc 
 tures, to which he set fire, making a most 
 portentous-looking blaze and smoke. Du 
 ring the night Vaughan sent back most 
 of his men, and encamped with thirteen 
 only on the spot ; and at break of day 
 next morning, ascending the summit of 
 Green hill, to make a survey of the 
 Grand battery, which was situated within 
 distinct view below, he was surprised to 
 find that there was every appearance of 
 its being deserted. There was no flag 
 flying, no smoke rising from the barrack- 
 chimneys, and in fact no indication of its 
 containing a single soldier. He now de 
 scended and entered the battery with his 
 thirteen men, and sent back immediately 
 to the provincial camp, asking for a rein 
 forcement to aid in holding the position, 
 and a British flag to fly from the fort. In 
 the meantime, one of the thirteen, strip 
 ping off his red coat, and taking it in his 
 teeth, climbed the staff, and nailed it to 
 the top. 
 
 It seems that the smoke and blaze 
 from the conflagration on the acclivity 
 of Green hill, during the night before, 
 had been observed from the Grand bat 
 tery, and had so frightened the soldiers 
 of the garrison, who supposed that the 
 whole force of the enemy was approach 
 ing, that they deserted their post and 
 fled into the town. 
 
 The French soon discovered their mis 
 take, and sent out boats, with a hundred 
 men or so, to regain possession of the 
 
18 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 
 
 battery before Vaughan and his handful 
 of men could be reinforced by the pro 
 vincial camp. The brave Vaughan, how 
 ever, leading out his thirteen to the shore, 
 succeeded in keeping the Frenchmen at 
 bay, and prevented their landing, until 
 aid from Pepperell arrived, when the en 
 emy were forced to betake themselves 
 hurriedly to the town. 
 
 The provincials, finding that the can 
 non had been spiked by the French pre 
 vious to deserting the battery, set some, 
 twenty smiths, under the supervision of 
 one Pomeroy, a gunsmith by trade, and 
 now a major of a Massachusetts regiment, 
 to work at drilling the guns. They thus 
 found themselves in possession of twenty- 
 eight serviceable forty-two pounders, be 
 sides a good supply of shells, balls, and 
 other ammunition. The powder, how 
 ever, had been thrown into a well. With 
 the Grand battery thus reinstated, the 
 provincials were enabled to turn upon 
 the enemy their own guns with great 
 effect. The French were much vexed at 
 the result, and strove, by keeping up a 
 brisk fire, to render the position too hot 
 for the provincials to hold ; but the lat 
 ter succeeded in maintaining possession, 
 and in returning more than they received. 
 The Grand battery remained, impregna 
 ble, in the hands of the colonists, to the 
 end of the siege. 
 
 The coup de main suggested by Shirley 
 having been now abandoned, there was 
 every prospect of a long siege ; and Pep 
 perell accordingly made preparations for 
 a systematic attack. He be^an erectini; 
 
 J O o 
 
 batteries at various points, from which 
 he might direct his fire upon the town. 
 
 One was constructed on Green hill, fifteen 
 hundred yards from the northwestern 
 wall ; another in the same direction, some 
 six hundred yards nearer ; and a third 
 within seven hundred yards of the town. 
 These batteries were composed of brush 
 wood, fagots, and turf, which naturally 
 suggested themselves to the militia, who 
 made no pretension to skill in military 
 art, and who in fact ridiculed its techni 
 calities. It was a labor of great difficulty 
 to land the cannon and place them in po 
 sition. In consequence of the boggy na 
 ture of the soil, the Avheels of the gun- 
 carriages sank deeply into the morasses ; 
 and it was found necessary to transport 
 them upon sledges, which were construct 
 ed by a New-Hampshire colonel, of the 
 name of Messerve. The men, having har 
 nessed themselves to these by means of 
 straps drawn over their shoulders,dragged 
 them, as they sank knee-deep into the 
 mud, to the batteries. For a full fort 
 night, by day and by night, they were 
 thus occupied in this fatiguing work of 
 getting the cannons into place. 
 
 The provincials were much annoyed 
 by a strong battery of the enemy, built 
 on an island situated at the opening of 
 the harbor, and facing the town. This 
 island battery was keeping up constantly 
 a brisk fire upon Pepperell s works, and 
 he was of course anxious to silence its 
 guns at his earliest chance. Commodore 
 Warren, had soon discovered the impor 
 tance of carrying it, and proposed to aid 
 Pepperell in the undertaking. Councils- 
 of-war, on land and on shipboard, were 
 held from day to day, to devise some plan 
 for this purpose. The commodore Avas 
 
UOLONIAL.J 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE POMEROYS. 
 
 19 
 
 for attempting it at once ; but Pepperell, 
 more cautious and prudent, insisted upon 
 waiting until his battering cannon and 
 mortars were ready to play on the town. 
 The attempt, therefore, was postponed ; 
 while the provincials, in the meantime, 
 busied themselves in completing and fur 
 nishing their batteries, and bringing them 
 nearer and nearer to the walls of the cit^ 
 adel. 
 
 The two commanders now de 
 termined to send a flag of truce to 
 the town, with a summons to surrender. 
 To the demand of the English the French 
 returned the defiant answer that their 
 reply would be at the cannon s mouth. 
 After a momentary cessation of hostili 
 ties, during this brief parley, the firing 
 was renewed with greater vigor than ev 
 er ; and the provincials, with the addition 
 of a fourth fascine battery, within two 
 hundred and fifty yards of the west gate 
 of the town, were now enabled to send 
 such a shower of balls and shells against 
 the walls as to do the enemy great mis 
 chief. 
 
 Warren now urged again his favorite 
 project of an attack upon the island bat 
 tery. The war-council, however, did not 
 approve of it, considering it too hazard 
 ous, although Pepperell favored the com 
 modore s proposition. The objections of 
 the army were overruled, and, for several 
 nights in succession, boats were got ready 
 for an attack ; but it was found imprac 
 ticable, in consequence of the weather. 
 The two commanders were in constant 
 communication, and for the most part in 
 harmony in regard to the operations of 
 the siege. Councils-of-war were daily held 
 
 May 9. 
 
 on sea and land, and the results of their 
 deliberations communicated through Pep 
 perell and Warren. 
 
 It was finally agreed that the 
 town of Louisburg be attacked by 
 storm, in the night, with all the vigor 
 possible. Before the night set in, how 
 ever, it was found advisable to postpone 
 the assault, " inasmuch as there appears a 
 great dissatisfaction in many of the offi 
 cers and soldiers at the designed attack 
 of the town by storm this night ; and as 
 it may be attended with very ill conse 
 quences if it should not be executed with 
 the greatest vigor whenever attempted, 
 the said attack of the town be deferred 
 for the present, or until the cannon are 
 all mounted and in full play, and the 
 enemy more reduced by the siege." 
 
 "Louisburg is an exceedingly strong 
 place," wrote Major Pomeroy, the gun 
 smith, to his wife, " and seems impregna 
 ble. It looks as if our campaign would 
 last long ; but I am willing to stay till 
 God s time comes to deliver the city into 
 our hands." The good dame answered 
 in the same spirit of patriotic and pious 
 confidence : " Suffer no anxious thought 
 to rest in your mind about me. The 
 whole town is much engaged with con 
 cern for the expedition, how Providence 
 will order the affair, for which religious 
 meetings every week are maintained. I 
 leave you in the hand of God." 
 
 The spirit of the Pomeroys was that 
 of the whole provincial force ; and the 
 men went on, day by day and night by 
 night, toiling without a murmur and with 
 a pious resignation, waiting for the " com 
 ing of God s good time." Their labors 
 
20 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 Alvl I 
 
 were heavy and their sufferings great, 
 but their energies never flagged and their 
 spirits were equal to every trial. With 
 out regular tents, they were obliged to 
 house themselves under temporary erec 
 tions of turf and brushwood, and to sleep 
 upon the ground. The weather, fortu 
 nately, was unusually dry ; but, notwith 
 standing, the men suffered from disease 
 in consequence of their severe hardships 
 and exposure. Pepperell found so many 
 of his men disabled, that he was forced 
 to send to the governor of Massachusetts 
 for another reinforcement of a thousand 
 men, for the bringing of whom he had 
 despatched fourteen transports, which he 
 took occasion to load with a number of 
 the prisoners that had been taken. 
 
 The provincials continued their labors, 
 adding battery to battery, and keeping 
 up a brisk fire night and day from the 
 works already erected. " Yester 
 day," writes Pepperell, " we gave 
 the west gate about one hundred shot 
 from our fascine battery," and concludes 
 hopefully : " I hope that, under God, we 
 shall soon be masters of this island, and 
 that I shall have the pleasure of writing 
 you from within the walls of Louisburg." 
 He had now raised his fourth fascine bat 
 tery, termed Titcomb s, in honor of one 
 of the bravest and most daring of the 
 New-England captains. Having mount 
 ed this with some of the heavy French 
 guns taken from the Grand battery, the 
 provincials were enabled to open a de 
 structive fire upon the town. As they 
 were only distant two hundred and fifty 
 yards, they could point their guns with 
 such effect, that they succeeded in de- 
 
 May 16, 
 
 stroying the western gate, with its draw 
 bridge, and making a small breach in the 
 walls. The soldiers on both sides, on this 
 occasion, were brought into each other s 
 view, and so closely, that they passed 
 mocking compliments, with invitations to 
 take a glass of wine, and exchanged vol 
 leys with their muskets, by which some 
 Frenchmen were toppled off dead from 
 the walls. 
 
 The enemy did not appear to be doing 
 as much damage to the besiegers as the 
 besiegers seemed to be doing to them 
 selves, for the latter reported several as 
 wounded by the " splitting" of their own 
 cannon. Pepperell was apparently very 
 well satisfied with the progress of his op 
 erations, and wrote : " We have had con 
 siderable success hitherto, having cleared 
 three forty-twos at the Grand battery, 
 and have done some execution, lodging 
 several shot in the citadel ; the mortars 
 and cohorns throw into the tow r n in most 
 instances." Warren, however, was not 
 so well satisfied with the state of affairs, 
 and complained of the apparent delay. 
 Still, the two commanders remained on 
 the most friendly terms with each other, 
 and we find Pepperell thanking the com 
 modore for the " claret and lemons, and 
 repeated kind offers." 
 
 Warren took care to keep his squad 
 ron busy; and, with an occasional capture 
 of an enemy s privateer and some dozen 
 merchantmen, and a bombardment of two 
 neighboring French settlements, his ac 
 tivity told to a good purpose. Pepperell 
 went on in his usual patient way with 
 the batteries, to which, having found thir 
 ty cannon in the east harbor at low-water 
 
OG 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 A TRIUMPH. 
 
 21 
 
 mark, he added another near the lightr 
 house. Here he hoisted an English flag, 
 and sent a regiment to guard the posi 
 tion. The French crossed over in boats 
 from the town opposite, and attempted 
 to dislodge them, but were repulsed with 
 loss. 
 
 Warren wa-s getting more and more 
 impatient, and continued to urge Pepper- 
 ell daily by letter to more active opera 
 tions, and particularly to an attack on 
 the island battery. The latter answered 
 these suggestions courteously, but never 
 failed to justify his own conduct. " It is 
 my great concern," he says. May 17th, 
 " that our progress against our enemies 
 on shore is so slow ; but when the diffi 
 culties of attacking the island battery 
 are duly considered, there being but criti 
 cal moments in which it can possibly be 
 done with hopes of success ; also the diffi 
 culty of scaling walls, without a breach, 
 by undisciplined troops ; of landing our 
 cannon in so bad a harbor; of getting 
 them conveyed on such bad grounds in 
 the face of our enemy s fire, while we can 
 not annoy them at all ; and a general ill 
 ness through the army : these and such 
 like things considered, I hope your pa 
 tience will not tire. The probability of 
 the speedy arrival of a French sea-force 
 I duly consider, but I hope the best, and 
 nothing in my power shall be wanting 
 toward the greatest despatch and most 
 vigorous attack." 
 
 Warren had proposed another plan for 
 the attack on the island battery, which 
 Pepperell laid before his council-of-war. 
 The provincials did not seem to approve 
 of it, as the commodore wished to bring 
 
 in his squadron and trust chiefly to the 
 naval forces for the enterprise. The 
 troops were desirous, if honor was to be 
 won, that they should secure for them 
 selves a fair share of it. Pepperell, ac 
 cordingly, went on with his systematic 
 siege, and seemed satisfied with its prog 
 ress. " We have continued," he says, " our 
 fire on the enemy from the west-gate bat 
 tery, which has shattered the wall con 
 siderably; but we were so unfortunate 
 
 last night as to split one of the 
 
 f + ;JL May 20, 
 
 lorty-two pounders. 
 
 The enemy about this time enjoyed a 
 small triumph, in the arrival of a Bor 
 deaux merchantman, laden with provis 
 ions, which succeeded, under the cover 
 of a dark and stormy night, in escaping 
 the vigilance of Warren and his cruisers, 
 and reaching the harbor of Louisburg in 
 safety. At the same time there arrived 
 a less welcome visiter in the shape of a 
 fire-ship, which Pepperell, taking advan 
 tage of the darkness of the night, had 
 sent in, and which did considerable dam 
 age to the enemy s shipping. 
 
 Commodore Warren, however, won the 
 greatest triumph of all, having taken a 
 French man-of-war of sixty-four guns, 
 manned by six hundred men, and laden 
 with military stores. The capture of the 
 Vigilante, as she was named, produced a 
 burst of joy in the army, and animated 
 the soldiers with fresh courage to perse 
 vere. Pepperell himself seemed now to 
 tire of the slowness of his own operations, 
 and proposed a general consultation, in 
 order to determine upon a speedy and 
 vigorous attack with the whole united 
 
 o 
 
 forces, both sea and land. Warren re- 
 
22 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT I. 
 
 ceived this suggestion with a hearty wel 
 come, and, with the advice of his council, 
 proposed a plan for an attack upon the 
 town. 
 
 It was proposed that all his majesty s 
 ships, and all the colonial cruisers except 
 two, with the schooners and transports, 
 should sail into the harbor and attack the 
 town and batteries with the utmost vig 
 or, "with his majesty s ships in such order 
 of battle as shall be agreed on, and that 
 all the unarmed vessels anchor in the 
 northeast harbor, out of gunshot." It was, 
 moreover, proposed that sixteen hundred 
 of Pepperell s men should go on board 
 the vessels of the squadron, to aid in the 
 attack, while the marines should be land 
 ed under the command of M Donald, their 
 colonel, who was to lead the attack on 
 shore, and be sustained by the provincial 
 troops. 
 
 This proposition was by no means wel 
 come to Pepperell and his army, as its 
 whole scope was to place the provincials 
 in a very subordinate position, and de 
 prive them of all chance of glory in the 
 proposed undertaking. 
 
 Pepperell and his council had other 
 reasons to urge. The Indians, they con 
 tended, might come in upon their backs, 
 while the troops were on board the ships, 
 and attack what forces remained in the 
 camp and hospitals. Moreover, they de 
 clared that the army was so reduced by 
 sickness, that the soldiers were unfitted 
 for such service as proposed ; and that if 
 the plan should miscarry, as it probably 
 would from this inefficiency, the result 
 would be disastrous to the colonies. Pep 
 perell s council then proposed that a gen 
 
 eral attack be made upon the town by 
 the land and naval forces forthwith ; that 
 five hundred men be impressed from the 
 cruisers and transports, to embark in the 
 Vigilante (the vessel captured from the 
 French), and that the other men-of-war 
 follow her into the harbor ; that five hun 
 dred provincials put off in boats from the 
 Grand battery at a given signal, to land 
 and scale the walls in front of the town, 
 under cover of the guns of the squadron 
 and the land-batteries ; that the marines 
 and sailors of the fleet should put off and 
 join them; that five hundred of the troops 
 should scale the walls at the southeast 
 part of the town, and that the same num 
 ber should make a breach at the western 
 gate, leaving half a thousand disposable 
 men to aid any party that might need 
 their services. 
 
 This plan of Pepperell s council was 
 not sent at once to Warren, in conse 
 quence of a dense fog. The commodore 
 became impatient, and wrote, asking why 
 he had not received an answer to the 
 proposition sent two days be 
 fore ; and, after reiterating some 
 of its details, peevishly remarked, " For 
 God s sake, let us do something, and not 
 waste our time in indolence !" 
 
 The provincials began to sympathize 
 with Warren s anxiety to do something, 
 and the council-of-war proposed that the 
 general should go on board the commo 
 dore s ship, and try to decide upon some 
 mutual plan for immediate action. War 
 ren, although he had been reinforced by 
 several additional men-of-war* which had 
 joined him from the various American 
 and West-Indian stations, was fearful that 
 
 May 26, 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 A REPULSE. 
 
 23 
 
 the arrival of the French fleet, daily ex 
 pected, would give him so much to do in 
 looking after it, that he would no longer 
 have it in his power to aid in the attack 
 upon Louisburg. He therefore pressed 
 this enterprise with all his energies. As 
 a preliminary to the general assault, War 
 ren thought it necessary to silence the 
 island battery, which guarded the ap 
 proach to the town, and was seriously in 
 the way of his ships making an attack. 
 He accordingly prevailed upon Pepperell 
 to make an attempt on the island, though 
 the army generally was averse to it, as 
 too hazardous, and as likely to result in 
 disappointment. 
 
 A volunteer party of provincials was 
 now enlisted for the purpose, and started 
 with scaling-ladders to make the assault. 
 Although it was in the darkness of the 
 
 night, and every precaution was taken 
 to elude the vigilance of the enemy, the 
 garrison of the island battery caught the 
 alarm, and began to fire upon the boats 
 before they reached the shore. On the 
 provincials now attempting to land, they 
 got so wetted in the heavy surf that many 
 of the firelocks could not be discharged, 
 and some of the party were driven back 
 at once in confusion to their boats ; oth 
 ers succeeded in making a stand on the 
 shore for awhile, but were, after an hour s 
 hard struggle, compelled to yield to the 
 French. Sixty were killed, and no less 
 than a hundred and sixteen taken pris 
 oners. " Providence seemed remarkably 
 to frown upon the affair," as one of the 
 pious provincials wrote, in giving an ac 
 count of this melancholy disaster to his 
 friends in New England. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Exultant Shouts of the Enemy. Pepperell discouraged. A more Vigorous Push. A General Attack proposed. Opposed 
 by the Admiral. A French Deserter reports the Enemy in Good Spirits. A Plan to dash them. A Successful Ruse. 
 An Attack upon the Island Battery again proposed. Opposed hy Pepperell. The Bombardment of the Town 
 brisker than ever. The General Assault decided upon. The " Three Smokes and Dutch Flag." Great Preparations. 
 Louisburg suffering more than ever. The Attempt begun. Stirring Addresses from the General and the Commo 
 dore. The Enemy sends out a Flag of Truce. Proposes to capitulate. Terms of Surrender agreed upon. Pepperell 
 and Warren disputing about the Keys. The General triumphs. Louisburg entered. Its Strength and its Weakness. 
 Glorification. Dinner. Parson Moody agreeably disappoints his Friends with a Short Grace. Pepperell and War 
 ren Joint Governors. The French Flag hoisted as a Decoy. Fat Prizes. Glorification and Thanksgiving in New 
 England. Ditto in Old England. The King delighted. The Admiral promoted, and Pepperell made a Baronet, the 
 first and last in New England. The Effect of the Victory. 
 
 THAT night s repulse of the attack on 
 the island battery was a sad blow to the 
 provincials, who, as the morning dawned 
 upon them in their camp, heard the ex 
 ulting shouts of the enemy over the first 
 success they could claim since the begin 
 ning of the sieg3. Although Pepperell 
 
 had made fair progress in investing the 
 citadel with his batteries, by which he 
 had succeeded in doing much damage 
 to the town, and had beaten back the 
 French on every sortie from their walls, 
 he was, after the defeat of the previous 
 night, evidently somewhat disheartened. 
 
24 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 "It is now," says Pepperell 
 himself, "the twenty-ninth day 
 since the army invested Louisburg and 
 drove in the inhabitants. Five fascine 
 batteries have been erected, with hard 
 service to the men, who have drawn the 
 cannon and mounted them ; the enemy 
 has been distressed, some breaches have 
 been made in their walls," and it is not 
 doubted but that " we shall soon reduce 
 the circular battery. Five unsuccessful 
 attempts have been made upon the island 
 battery, in the last of which one hundred 
 and eighty-nine men and many boats 
 were lost. Scouts have been sent out, 
 and have succeeded in destroying the 
 enemy s settlements and in preventing 
 surprise. Fatigue, however, has brought 
 on disease, and left not more than two 
 thousand one hundred men fit for duty, 
 six hundred of whom are gone in pursuit 
 of two large bodies of French and In 
 dians eastward and westward of the pro 
 vincial camp." 
 
 This was the not very encouraging 
 state of things, when Pepperell resolved 
 upon a more vigorous push. He was 
 anxious now for a consultation with War 
 ren, but was prevented for several days 
 by the fog from going on board the com 
 modore s ship. He finally, however, suc 
 ceeded in reaching him, and proposed a 
 joint attack on the town. Warren, how 
 ever, was not now disposed to concur in 
 this proposition, although it had origi 
 nally been made by him. He thought 
 it better not to send his ships into the 
 harbor until further execution had been 
 done against the enemy s batteries. 
 
 Pepperell, in the meantime, continued 
 
 June 4i 
 
 to do his best in pushing on the siege. 
 He, however, was in great straits for want 
 of ammunition and effective men. In his 
 despatch to Governor Shirley, he says: 
 "Powder and balls are nearly used up, 
 oil account of which many of our guns 
 are silent. We have one thousand five 
 hundred sick, and a reinforcement there 
 fore of three thousand men is absolutely 
 necessary." The French, on the other 
 hand, seemed to be in excellent condition, 
 and by no means discouraged as to their 
 ability to hold out against the besiegers. 
 
 A French soldier deserts, and, 
 reaching the provincial camp, 
 reports that there are within the garri 
 son three thousand six hundred that bear 
 arms, seven or eight hundred of w T hom. 
 are soldiers ; that they have provisions 
 to last till October, and considerable am 
 munition ; that the enemy judged vari 
 ously the provincial forces from one thou 
 sand to four thousand live hundred men ; 
 that they have burst one of their mortars 
 and several cannon; that they are pre 
 pared to receive an attack every night 
 in all parts of the town ; and that if their 
 expected ships are taken they will have 
 to surrender, but they do not expect the 
 British ships will venture into the har 
 bor. 
 
 Commodore Warren, learning from this 
 deserter, who was sent to him by Pepper 
 ell, how well the French kept up their 
 spirits, resolved upon a plan to try and 
 dash them somewhat. The inhabitants 
 of Louisburg had not yet heard of the 
 capture of the Vigilante, although she 
 had been in the hands of the English for 
 nearly three weeks. Warren thought if 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 A KUSE. 
 
 25 
 
 this intelligence could be conveyed to 
 the French commander, it would natu 
 rally have the effect of lowering his hopes 
 of a continued successful resistance. The 
 commodore, accordingly, pretending that 
 he had heard of the cruel treatment of 
 some of the provincials held by the ene 
 my s garrison as prisoners, suggested to 
 the former commander of the Vigilante, 
 who was now a captive of the English, 
 to write to Duchambon, the governor of 
 Louisburg, and interpose in their behalf. 
 The Frenchman readily complied, and 
 prepared this letter : 
 
 "ON BOARD THE VlGILANTE, WHERE I AM A PRIS 
 ONER, BEFORE LOUISBURG, June 8, 1745. 
 
 " Herewith I send you, sir, the copy 
 of a letter written me by Mr. Warren, 
 commander of a squadron, who informs 
 me that the French have treated some 
 English prisoners with cruelty and inhu 
 manity. I can scarcely believe it, since 
 it is the intention of the king our master 
 that they should be well treated on ev 
 ery occasion. You are to know that on 
 the 20th of May I was taken by the 
 squadron, as I was about to enter your 
 harbor; and it is fitting you should be 
 informed that the gentlemen, the captains 
 and officers, treat us not as prisoners, but 
 as their good friends, and take a very 
 particular care that my officers and equi 
 page should want nothing. To me it 
 seems just you should treat them in the 
 same manner, and see that those be pun 
 ished who act otherwise, and offer any 
 insult to those whom you may make 
 prisoners. 
 
 " Yours, &c. 
 
 U DE LA MAISON FORTE." 
 
 To carry out his ruse more effectually, 
 Warren selected one of his officers, who 
 understood the French language, Captain 
 Macdonald, and intrusted the letter to 
 him to deliver. This officer was accord 
 ingly sent to Louisburg under a flag of 
 truce, and was duly received by the gov 
 ernor, who was greatly startled by the 
 letter, which gave him the first intelli 
 gence of the capture of the Vigilante. 
 Captain Macdonald, who communicated 
 with the French officers only through an 
 interpreter, was supposed to be ignorant 
 of their language ; and accordingly they 
 freely expressed their thoughts and opin 
 ions in their native tongue, without the 
 least fear of berno- understood. The Eno;- 
 
 o o 
 
 lish officer was thus enabled to bring 
 back to Warren a faithful account of the 
 fright occasioned by this untoward news 
 of the capture of that large man-of-war, 
 the Vigilante, the safe arrival of which 
 they had been expecting, with supplies 
 of men, provisions, and ammunition. 
 
 The French were further disheartened 
 by learning of a large accession to the 
 British squadron, and disappointed at the 
 delay of their own expected fleet. Pep- 
 perell, too, had been reinforced, by a 
 timely arrival of recruits and ammuni 
 tion, not only from the neighboring Britr 
 ish settlements of Canseau and Annapo 
 lis, but from Massachusetts ; and was thus 
 enabled to keep up, by a more effectual 
 fire from his batteries, the lively appre 
 hensions of the French, first aroused by 
 a knowledge of the fate of the Vigilante, 
 
 By a council-of-war held in the 
 squadron, it was determined that 
 it was not practicable or advisable to at- 
 
 Juiie 8. 
 
26 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 tack the town of Louisburg, without the 
 island battery should be first taken. It 
 was therefore proposed that, if proper 
 pilots could be found, the ships should 
 be anchored within half a cable s length 
 of the island, and General Pepperell hav 
 ing supplied the commodore with live 
 hundred provincials, that these, together 
 with the sailors and marines of the squad 
 ron, should land under cover of the ships, 
 and attack the island fortress. 
 
 Pepperell, on being consulted, did not 
 altogether approve of this plan, being 
 especially opposed to the attack on the 
 island by embarking the troops in the 
 whale-boats, which a few musketrballs 
 might sink. He therefore urged again 
 his former proposition of a general attack 
 upon the town. As for the island bai> 
 tery, the squadron, he suggested, might 
 bombard it from the outside, and be safe 
 to retreat. Pepperell sent accordingly 
 three pilots from his own transports, to 
 take charge of the ships and bring them 
 to a safe anchorage as near as possible to 
 the point of attack. 
 
 While this plan of Pepperell is being 
 considered, the provincials set to work, 
 with renewed energy, in their bombard 
 ment of Louisburg, and threw into the 
 citadel a continued shower of red-hot 
 balls. The French, too, were not back 
 ward, and returned the fire with great 
 spirit. They succeeded in planting six 
 cannon, during the night, to protect the 
 west gate, which w r as the chief object of 
 attack ; but the provincials had the good 
 fortune to silence them early the next 
 morning. 
 
 Warren finally consented to bring in 
 
 his ships, in accordance with Pepperell s 
 plan ; and it was agreed that, as soon as 
 the wind w r as fair for the squadron to 
 sail into the harbor, the attack upon Lou 
 isburg should be made. The commodore 
 was to hoist a Dutch flag under his pen 
 nant at the maintop-gallant masthead, as 
 the signal of his having weighed anchor ; 
 and Pepperell was to answer, when he 
 should be ready, with " three smokes." 
 " When I hoist a Dutch flag," says Warren 
 in his communication, " you should march 
 toward the town, drums beating and col 
 ors flying ; w T hen I hoist the red flag on 
 the flagstaff, you may then be assured I 
 shall be in and begin the attack in about 
 half an hour." 
 
 Pepperell was as eager as the commo 
 dore, and was making ready with all pos 
 sible despatch. He ordered all the trans 
 ports out to join the squadron, the boats 
 to be fitted with oars and ladders, and 
 sent to Warren a supply of cohorns and 
 shells, and what oakum and moss could 
 be collected. He got ready three more 
 forty- twos to play upon the circular bat 
 tery, and prevent it from annoying the 
 ships. He was keeping up a constant 
 fire from his lighthouse battery upon the 
 island fortress, and had succeeded in al 
 most silencing it. His other batteries, 
 too, were kept busy; and Louisburg was 
 evidently suffering more than ever it had 
 done during the whole six w r eeks of the 
 siege. 
 
 Everything w r as now in readi- 
 
 f 1 lee 1 rn Jlllie !4 
 
 ness lor the genera I " push. 1 he 
 provincial vessels had sailed out of the 
 bay to join the squadron ; the brushwood 
 had been gathered and placed on the 
 
COLOlSriAL.J 
 
 SURRENDER OF LOUISBURG. 
 
 27 
 
 June 15. 
 
 summit of Green hill, preparatory to the 
 raising the signal of "three smokes ;" and 
 all was now eager expectation of the com 
 ing event. 
 
 Warren hoisted his Dutch flag; 
 Pepperell answered with his 
 "three smokes" from Green hill; War 
 ren replied with his red flag ; and soon 
 the fleet sailed in before the wind, and 
 anchored in a line near the town. The 
 commodore pulled off at once for the 
 shore, and, meeting the general, they 
 were received by the troops on parade. 
 Both Pepperell and Warren, having ad 
 dressed them in a few stirring words, pre 
 pared to assume their several positions, 
 and fulfil the duties of the day. Before 
 they had parted, however, it being late 
 in the afternoon, a flag of truce was seen 
 advancing from the west gate of the gar 
 rison. The bombardment ceased at once, 
 and the captain of the foremost of the 
 provincial batteries approaching half way, 
 met the French officer who bore the flag, 
 and received from him a proposal for the 
 suspension of hostilities, in order to give 
 the garrison an opportunity for the con 
 sideration of terms of capitulation. Pep 
 perell and Warren sent back their answer 
 as follows, having written it in the camp 
 as late as half-past eight at night: 
 
 "June loth. 
 
 " GOVERNOR DUCHAMBON : 
 
 "We have yours of this date, propo 
 sing a suspension of hostilities for such 
 a time as shall be necessary for you to 
 determine upon the conditions of deliver 
 ing up the garrison of Louisburg, which 
 arrived at a happy juncture to prevent 
 the effusion of Christian blood, as we 
 
 were together, and had just determined 
 upon a general attack. We shall com 
 ply with your desire until eight o clock 
 to-morrow morning ; and if in the mean 
 time you surrender yourselves prisoners- 
 of-war, you may depend upon humane 
 and generous treatment. 
 
 " We are your humble servants, 
 "PETER WARREN, 
 " WILLIAM PEPPERELL" 
 
 Next morning, Duchambon sent back 
 his terms for the surrender of Louisburg, 
 but they were rejected by Warren and 
 Pepperell, who insisted upon conditions 
 less favorable to the enemy. These were 
 accordingly accepted by the French, who, 
 however, demanded that their troops 
 might be allowed to march out of the 
 garrison with their muskets and bayo 
 nets, and colors flying. This privilege 
 was freely granted by Pepperell and War 
 ren, who thought it not worth while to 
 "stickle at trifles." Terms of capitula 
 tion having been agreed upon, hostages 
 delivered, and all preliminaries arranged, 
 the two commanders prepared to take 
 possession. There now sprang up a feel 
 ing of rivalry between Pepperell and War 
 ren, as to who should enter Louisburg 
 first and receive the keys of the fortress. 
 Both seemed anxious for awhile to frus 
 trate the other ; and each wrote to Du 
 chambon, demanding that the town should 
 be given up to him. Pepperell, to whom 
 probably precedence belonged, wrote tc 
 the French governor that he would send 
 Colonel Bradstreet with a detachment at 
 four o clock in the afternoon, to 
 
 r t! ^ Juue 17t 
 
 take possession ol the town and 
 
28 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART I. 
 
 June 16* 
 
 forts, to whom he desired that the keys 
 be delivered. 
 
 Warren, having stolen a march upon 
 his rival, had previously written to Du- 
 chambon, demanding that the 
 keys of the town be delivered 
 to such officers and troops as he should 
 appoint. The French governor seemed 
 inclined rather to yield to the commo 
 dore, who probably passed with him as 
 the superior officer. Duchambon accord 
 ingly showed Pepperell s letter to War 
 ren, who was so angered by its purport, 
 that he wrote reproachfully to the pro 
 vincial general, telling him he was sorry 
 to find by his " letter a kind of jealousy 
 which I thought you would never con 
 ceive of me, after my letter to you of 
 last night. And give me leave to tell 
 you I don t want at this time to acquire 
 reputation, as I flatter myself mine has 
 been pretty well established long before." 
 
 After this little spirt of rivalry between 
 the two commanders, the affair was final 
 ly adjusted by Warren conceding to Pep- 
 perell what fairly belonged to him as 
 commander-in-chief of the expedition 
 the right of receiving the keys. The 
 French fortress was now delivered 
 up ; and, as the troops entered, they 
 were so struck with the strength of the 
 fortifications, that they considered their 
 own success as a marvel of God s good 
 ness. " God," wrote an eye-witness, " has 
 gone out of the way of his common prov 
 idence, in a remarkable and almost mirac 
 ulous manner, to incline the hearts of 
 the French to give up and deliver this 
 strong city into our hands." 
 
 Strong as it was, however, Pepperell 
 
 1745, 
 
 had succeeded with his batteries in shat 
 tering its strength very effectually. In 
 his despatch to Shirley he said : " I be 
 lieve such ruins were never seen before, 
 which, however, is not to be wondered at, 
 as we gave the town about nine thousand 
 cannon-balls and six hundred bombs be 
 fore they surrendered, which sorely dis 
 tressed them, especially the day before 
 they sent out a flag of truce, when our 
 incessant fire on the town prevented their 
 showing their heads or stirring from their 
 covert ways; and from lighthouse bat 
 tery we played upon the island battery 
 with our cannon and large mortar, so 
 that some of them ran into the sea for 
 shelter." 
 
 On entering Louisburg, it was found 
 to contain two thousand inhabitants, in 
 addition to about four thousand troops, 
 of whom about six hundred and fifty only 
 were regulars. All these, by the terms of 
 the surrender, were to be sent to France, 
 and pledged not to bear arms against 
 Great Britain or its colonies for the pe 
 riod of twelve months. A large quantity 
 of provisions, sufficient to have lasted the 
 garrison for half a year, and immense sup 
 plies of ammunition and military stores, 
 were taken possession of by the captors. 
 
 The occasion of the capture was cele 
 brated by a public dinner, given by Pep 
 perell to his officers, of which a clerical 
 anecdote is recorded as the most memora 
 ble incident. The general had been ac 
 companied by a number of the New-Eng 
 land clergy, among whom was his wife s 
 brother, one Parson Moody. This divine 
 being the eldest, was entitled to the hon 
 or of saying "grace before meat." As 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 EXULTATION OF VICTORY. 
 
 29 
 
 he, however, was apt to be very long- 
 winded on such occasions, the company 
 were in a state of nervous anxiety, lest 
 he should inflict upon them his usual pro 
 lixity. Moody, however, only gave vent 
 to the following brief invocation, much 
 to the relief of the anxious and hungry 
 guests : " Good Lord ! w r e have so many 
 things to thank thee for, that time will 
 be infinitely too short to do it ; we must 
 therefore leave it for the work of eterni 
 ty. Bless our food and fellowship upon 
 this joyful occasion, for the sake of Christ 
 our Lord. Amen." :|: 
 
 Pepperell and Warren became the joint 
 governors of Louisburg on taking posses 
 sion of the city in the name of his majes 
 ty George II. ; but they continued to fly 
 the French flag from the fortress, with 
 the view of deceiving the French vessels 
 expected to arrive. By this deception, 
 they succeeded in ensnaring a large num 
 ber of prizes, amounting in all to no less 
 than a million of dollars. There w r ere 
 two East-Indiamen supposed to be worth 
 one hundred and seventy-five thousand 
 pounds sterling, and a South-sea ship of 
 the enormous value of eight hundred thou 
 sand pounds. This prize-money, however, 
 much to the dissatisfaction of the provin 
 cials, fell exclusively to the naval forces. 
 
 When they heard in New-England of 
 the success of the expedition, there was 
 great joy throughout the colony. Bos 
 ton was illuminated as it had never been 
 before. " There was not a house in town, 
 
 * " The Life of Sir William Pcppcrcll, Bnrt., by Usher 
 Parsons. Boston: Little, Brown, & Company, 1855." A 
 work of careful research, to which the author of the " Battles 
 of America" has been indebted for much valuable informa 
 tion. 
 
 in no by-lane or alley, but joy might be 
 seen through its windows." The bells 
 rang, the cannons roared, and the people 
 shouted the whole day, while bonfires 
 burnt and houses blazed with light all 
 the night. A day was set apart through 
 out the province to return thanks " to 
 God for his appearance on our behalf." 
 
 Nor did the news of the victory excite 
 less joy in Old England. " We are ma 
 king bonfires for Cape Breton," wrote 
 Horace Walpole. George II, who was 
 on a visit to his Hanoverian possessions 
 when he received the intelligence of the 
 capture of Louisburg, was aroused to an 
 unusual pitch of enthusiastic delight. He 
 made Warren an admiral at once, and 
 governor of Louisburg; and issued his 
 letters-patent, dating them from Hano 
 ver, by which he conferred a baronetcy 
 upon Pepperell. Sir William was the 
 first and only native New-England colo 
 nist ever raised to that dignity. 
 
 In London the news created great ex 
 citement ; the tower and park guns were 
 fired, and the city illuminated. On the 
 return of George II. to his British domin 
 ions, he was met by congratulations and 
 addresses of the towns and public bodies, 
 upon the happy event. The ministry 
 of the duke of Newcastle had involved 
 Great Britain in a war with France, which 
 had hitherto only resulted in disgrace to 
 the former and glory to the latter. The 
 English had now the conquest of Louis 
 burg, " the Dunkirk of America," as a set- 
 off to the French triumph at Fontenoy. 
 
 The Americans became exalted at once 
 in the estimate of their British fellow- 
 subjects, as they alone had succeeded in 
 
30 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 vindicating the fame of their country by 
 a great victory over its enemies. The 
 reduction of Cape Breton, said a contem 
 porary writer, " by the people of New 
 England, was an acquisition so unexpect 
 ed and fortunate, that America became 
 on that remarkable event a more general 
 topic of conversation. Of such conse 
 quence to the French was the possession 
 of that important key to their American 
 settlements, that its restitution was in 
 reality the purchase of the last general 
 peace of Europe." 
 
 The effect upon the future destinies of 
 America was no less than upon the actu 
 
 al position of affairs in Europe. At the 
 siege of Louisburg, the American colo 
 nists learned their first lesson in regular 
 warfare, and acquired that self-confidence 
 which did not hesitate, in behalf of their 
 own great cause of independence, to try 
 the chances of battle with European 
 troops. At Louisburg, too, were schooled 
 those famous officers, Wooster, Whitin^, 
 
 / O 
 
 Gridley, and others, who became as heroic 
 Revolutionary leaders in the battle for 
 " life, liberty, and happiness," as they had 
 been faithful soldiers in the service of 
 their king, whom they only loved the less 
 because they loved their country more. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The New-Englandera eager for Conquest. Proposal to invade the Canadas. The French burning with Revenge. An 
 Avenging Fleet. Its Fate. A Second French Fleet. Met and conquered by the British. Peace. The Concession 
 of Louislmrg to the French. New-Englanders dissatisfied. France again lusting for Dominion. Desires to unite the 
 St. Lawrence and the Mississippi. Who shall be supreme, France or England? Might not Right. Marquis Du 
 Quesne, Governor of Canada. His Activity. Forts built. Ohio Company alarmed. Appeal to Governor Dinwid- 
 die, of Virginia. A Commissioner sent to expostulate with the French. Failure of the Mission. George Washing 
 ton appointed. A Bootless Errand. The Ohio Company constructs a Fort. Dinwiddie sends a. Force to protect it. 
 Washington declines the Honor of the Chief Command, but accepts the Second Rank. His March to the Ohio. 
 The French Invasion. Washington and his Difficulties. Spirited Conduct. The American Fort on the Ohio at 
 tacked and the Virginians routed. The Garrison arrive in Washington s Camp at Will s Creek. Their Story and 
 Adventures. Monsieur Contreco3ur. A Wily Old Indian. Washington perplexed. A Council-of-War. March to 
 Redstone Creek. Road-Making. Little Meadows. Excessive Labors. The Indians propose the River Route. The 
 River found impracticable. Road-Making resumed. Rumors of the French. Arrival of the Enemy. Washington 
 goes in Pursuit. Finds the French, attacks and beats them. The Death of Jumonville. A Spy or an Embassador 7 
 Washington slandered by the French. 
 
 1745, 
 
 THE New-Englanders were so ela 
 ted by their success at Louisburg, 
 that their minds were stirred with a de 
 sire for further conquests. They were 
 now prepared to carry the war into Can 
 ada ; and a plan for a campaign was act 
 ually devised, by Shirley, the governor 
 of Massachusetts, and the two heroes of 
 Louisburg, Pepperell and Warren, within 
 
 the walls of that citadel. The British 
 minister, the duke of Newcastle, seemed 
 to favor greatly the American design ; 
 and, having conferred colonelcies upon 
 Shirley and Pepperell, ordered them to 
 recruit their regiments to the number of 
 a thousand each, preparatory to the in 
 vasion of the French possessions in Can 
 ada. 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 DESTRUCTION OF THE FRENCH FLEET. 
 
 ,31 
 
 The French, on the other hand, hav 
 ing heard with great vexation of the loss 
 of their famous citadel, determined to 
 take revenge. They accordingly fitted 
 out a large fleet, at an immense expense, 
 in the port of Brest, and, placing it under 
 the command of the duke d Anville, 
 despatched it to America, with the 
 view of reconquering Cape Breton, and 
 striking a severe blow upon the coasts of 
 the British provinces in America. Great 
 preparations were made in New England 
 to defend it against this formidable ene 
 my. Forts were erected along the coast, 
 the militia of the various provinces gath 
 ered to protect the exposed points, and 
 sentinels were placed on the hilltops to 
 watch for the first signs of the coming of 
 the French ships. Sir William Pepperell, 
 the hero of Louisburg, had now returned 
 to Maine, and assumed his old command 
 of its militia. He was full of martial 
 spirit on the occasion, and had his com 
 panies mustered by their captains, their 
 accoutrements put in order, and every 
 possible arrangement made for the ap 
 proaching emergency. 
 
 D Anville and his fleet did not arrive, 
 however. They had put to sea in great 
 force, with no less than eleven ships-of- 
 the-line, thirty small vessels-of-war, and 
 various transports containing three thou 
 sand regular troops. Nova Scotia, then 
 as now in possession of the English, w r as 
 to be the first point of attack. Calcula 
 ting upon the sympathy and active aid 
 of the French residents of this the for 
 mer Acadie,they anticipated an easy con 
 quest. Once in possession of this penin 
 sula, they proposed to retake Louisburg, 
 
 and thence invade the New-England 
 coasts. The design was extensive, and 
 the preparations had been on a scale of 
 grandeur in accordance. But man pro 
 poses and God disposes. 
 
 The fleet had hardly sailed out of Brest 
 in gallant trim, and fairly got to sea, when 
 a storm arose, which wrecked many of 
 the vessels, and separated the rest. The 
 duke d Anville succeeded in reaching the 
 American coast in his own ship, and was 
 soon joined by a few of the smaller ves 
 sels. His sudden death, how r ever, put a 
 stop to all his plans ; and the command 
 fell, by succession, to the vice-admiral. 
 This commander resolved upon returning 
 to France, in consequence of the dimin 
 ished number of his vessels and their 
 shattered condition ; but his council-of- 
 war overruled him. So excited was the 
 vice-admiral by the opposition of his offi 
 cers, that he ran himself through the 
 body with his sword. 
 
 The aged De laJonquiere now succeed 
 ed, who, in spite of his nearly seventy 
 years, had not only advocated the bolder 
 policy in opposition to the vice-admiral, 
 but now, in command, was prepared to 
 carry it out with the greatest energy. 
 All, however, was in vain : another storm 
 arose, off Cape Sable, and the few vessels 
 that escaped returned in a damaged state, 
 to give testimony of the fatality which 
 had attended the great French expedi 
 tion. 
 
 The government of France, however, 
 was not discouraged, and soon had in 
 readiness another fleet to invade the Briir 
 ish colonies. England, early con 
 scious of this renewed attempt, had 
 
32 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 also equipped a large naval force, by 
 which it was proposed to intercept the 
 French. Anson was made admiral of the 
 English fleet, and Warren, the naval hero 
 of Louisburg, rear-admiral. 
 
 On hearing that the French were about 
 to sail, the English put to sea, and await- 
 ed the enemy off Cape Finisterre, on the 
 coast of France. The two met on the 
 3d of May, 1746, and immediately began 
 battle. The French were worsted after 
 a severe struggle, leaving all their ships- 
 of-the-line in the hands of the -British, 
 with a large quantity of bullion, and Ad 
 miral de la Jonquiere, the newly-appoint 
 ed governor of Canada, to reward and 
 grace the English triumph. 
 
 There was now, with the exception of 
 an occasional brush between the English 
 and French on the frontiers, an almost 
 entire suspension of hostilities. The Brit 
 ish finally disbanded the provincial army; 
 and the colonists were thus prepared, in 
 anticipation, for the event which now oc 
 curred, that of the declaration of peace 
 
 by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle. 
 
 By this treaty, the island of Cape 
 Breton, with the hard-won fortress of 
 Louisburg, was given up to the French, 
 much to their satisfaction, and to the 
 vexation of the New-Englanders, who 
 considered the possession of this town as 
 essential to their own security. It was 
 true, the right of Great Britain to Nova 
 Scotia was acknowledged; but the French 
 inhabitants of that peninsula under the 
 advice, as was suspected, of the govern 
 ment of France resisted the English 
 claim. The treaty, therefore, was very 
 distasteful to New England, and natural 
 
 ly, for its best interests had been sacri 
 ficed by the mother-country, in her anx 
 iety to bring to a close a war which had 
 cost so much, and profited her so little. 
 
 The French, in spite of the peace, be 
 gan soon, not only covertly, as in Nova 
 Scotia, but openly, to encroach upon Eng 
 lish colonial rights. France had long en 
 tertained the grand idea of connecting 
 its northern possessions in Canada with 
 those she held on the gulf of Mexico. 
 Her possession of Louisiana, with its then 
 widely-extended boundaries, gave her the 
 command of the Mississippi; while her 
 Canadian territory, stretching from the 
 mouth of the St. Lawrence to the great 
 lakes, brought her upper dominion so 
 close to the Ohio, that nothing was want 
 ing but the mastery of that river to give 
 her the united power, north and south, 
 which she coveted. 
 
 The English colonies could not look 
 calmly upon this scheme, which was, if 
 consummated, destined, as has been in 
 geniously said, to catch them in a net, 
 that, being tightened at either end, would 
 inevitably bring them entirely within the 
 power of the French. There were claims 
 and counter-claims urged by France and 
 Great Britain to the territory watered by 
 the Ohio, but those of the one and the 
 other were equally baseless. The ques 
 tion was not one of disputed rights, but 
 of contending powers. The whole mat 
 ter resolved itself into this : " Who shall 
 be supreme in the West, France or Eng 
 land ?" It was of little importance that 
 the latter claimed unlimited territory 
 from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and that 
 the former insisted, by the right of dis- 
 
COLONIAL.J 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 33 
 
 1753, 
 
 co very and the command of the Missis 
 sippi, on the possession of all its tributa 
 ries, and the rich land west of the Alle- 
 ghany mountains watered by them. It 
 was clear, with such unbounded claims 
 on each side, that neither could secure 
 its supposed right but by an appeal to 
 might. 
 
 The French first threw down the gaunt 
 let. The marquis du Quesne was appoint 
 ed governor of the French dominions in 
 America and was instructed to 
 
 1 l^L. 
 
 make good the widest claims of his 
 country, by military possession. He ac 
 cordingly hurried to carry the orders of 
 his government into effect. He organ 
 ized the militia of Quebec and Montreal, 
 find placed all the forces under his com 
 mand on the most effective footing. He 
 now sent various detachments to 
 the banks of the Ohio, for the pur 
 pose of establishing forts and securing 
 the command of that river, that he might 
 thus unite it with the Mississippi by mili 
 tary posts, and complete the cordon from 
 Canada to Louisiana. Such was the ac 
 tivity of Du Quesne s movements, that, 
 before the end of the year, he had estab 
 lished a line of forts from Montreal to 
 the Riviere aux Boeufs, now known as a 
 small stream, in Pennsylvania, by the 
 name of French creek. 
 
 The " Ohio Company" was the first to 
 complain of what they called an invasion 
 of their rights. This company was an 
 English association chartered some time 
 in the year 1749, and was composed of a 
 large number of native and colonial Eng 
 lishmen. Its purpose was to colonize, 
 and trade, principally for furs, with the 
 
 5 
 
 Indians ; and accordingly five hundred 
 thousand acres of land west of the Alle- 
 ghanies had been granted to the compa 
 ny. It was this extensive territory which 
 had been encroached upon by the French, 
 and the Ohio Company therefore called 
 upon Dinwiddie,the governor of Virginia, 
 to take some action toward dispossessing 
 the intruders. Dinwiddie, who was a pro 
 prietor of the company, saw at once the 
 necessity of interference, and sent a com 
 missioner to expostulate with the French 
 on their invasion of the rights of Virginia. 
 Captain William Trent, who had been 
 selected to perform this duty, returned 
 without having fulfilled it, but came back 
 with more alarming accounts than ever 
 of the French invasion. 
 
 George Washington, who was only 
 twenty-two years of age, was then selectr 
 ed by the governor of Virginia. His pro 
 fession as a surveyor had led him into 
 the uncultivated parts of the countiy, 
 and made him familiar with the wild life 
 of the savage and the borderer. He had 
 had also some experience as a military 
 disciplinarian, having served, before he 
 was of age, as one of the adjutant-gener 
 als of the province, whose duty it was to 
 organize and drill the militia. He was 
 now appointed adjutant-general and com 
 missioner to bear the summons of the 
 governor of Virginia to the French com 
 mander on Lake Erie, requiring him to 
 
 retire from what was claimed to be Eno-- 
 
 t> 
 
 lisli territory. The errand of Washino- 
 ton proved bootless, and the French con 
 tinued to seize and disperse the English 
 traders, and prepared to descend the 
 Ohio and take military possession, by 
 
34 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [I ART I 
 
 establishing forts at each available point 
 on the river. 
 
 The Ohio Company had commenced 
 the construction of a fortified post on the 
 Ohio river, at the junction of the Alle- 
 ghany and Monongahela. This was sup 
 posed to be a point that would attract 
 the invaders at once. It was therefore 
 determined by the governor of Virginia 
 to send a force there, to aid in the con 
 struction of the fort, and defend it against 
 every attack. Captain Trent was accord 
 ingly despatched at the head of a hun 
 dred militiamen on this service. 
 
 The youthful Washington was also 
 called upon again by Dinwiddie, and of 
 fered the chief command of the 
 three hundred men whom it was 
 proposed to enlist. Washington, how 
 ever, modestly declined the honor, and 
 gave way to a Colonel Joshua Fry, under 
 whom he served as lieutenant-colonel. 
 Washington, preceding his colonel, set 
 out for the fork of the Ohio on the 2d 
 of April, at the head of two companies, 
 numbering one hundred and fifty men. 
 Fry was to follow with the rest and the 
 artillery. 
 
 The French at this time were in pos 
 session on Lake Erie, within the limits 
 of the present town of Erie, of a log-fort, 
 which had been built for several years, 
 and which was well protected with pick 
 ets, bastions, and ditch, and a strong gar 
 rison of soldiers. They had also taken 
 possession of a spot where now stands 
 the village of Waterford, and construct 
 ed a fort on the Riviere aux Bceufs, so 
 called from the numerous herds of buf 
 falo which fed upon the fertile meadows 
 
 watered by that stream, now known as 
 the French creek, in Pennsylvania. Far 
 ther on, again, toward the Ohio, they had 
 also lately established another fortified 
 post, which was called Venango. This 
 was situated on the Alleghany, at the 
 mouth of the "Riviere aux Bceufs," or 
 French creek. A strong garrison was 
 maintained during the whole winter at 
 the fort on the Riviere aux Bceufs, and 
 large additional forces were ordered to 
 
 1754, 
 
 rendezvous there the subsequent 
 spring. Accordingly, at this time, 
 some five hundred to a thousand well- 
 organized French-Canadian soldiers had 
 mustered, and prepared, under the com 
 mand of Monsieur de Contrecoeur, to ad 
 vance down the Ohio and take military 
 possession of its banks. 
 
 It was to meet this anticipated inva 
 sion that Washington was now inarching 
 with his one hundred and fifty men. He 
 found his progress obstructed by every 
 possible difficulty. On reaching Win 
 chester, he was forced, in order to obtain 
 the necessary horses and baggage-wag 
 ons, to put into effect the militia-law of 
 Virginia, which authorized him to take 
 by compulsion what could not be gotten 
 from the freewill of the reluctant farmers. 
 With all this arbitrary exercise of power, 
 he had to wait more than a week for only 
 ten horses, which was literally but a tithe 
 of the number demanded. At this disad 
 vantage, Washington was forced to con 
 tinue his march, over a country that was 
 mountainous and unsupplied with roads. 
 The men were obliged, in consequence 
 of the sorry condition of the horses im 
 pressed from the farmers, to put theii 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 ARRIVAL OF ENSIGN WARD. 
 
 shoulders constantly to the wheels of the 
 wagons, and assist them over the steep 
 passes and through the boggy soil. They 
 were not disheartened, however, and pro 
 ceeded bravely on their toilsome march, 
 until they reached Will s creek, now the 
 Cumberland river, where they found Cap 
 tain Trent. From him they learned that 
 lie had left his men under the command 
 of one Lieutenant Frazier, all well, and 
 hard at work in finishing the fort on the 
 Ohio. Washington was anxious to push 
 on ; but as Trent had failed to provide 
 the pack-horses expected, he was forced 
 to send and make another levy upon the 
 reluctant patriots of Winchester. As this 
 town was at a distance of forty miles, the 
 youthful colonel was obliged, much to his 
 dissatisfaction, to repress his impatience 
 to move. In the meantime, all uncer 
 tainty about the fate of the men at the 
 Ohio fork was settled by their appear 
 ance, on the 25th of April, at Will s creek, 
 loaded down with their working-tools, and 
 commanded by one Ensign Ward. 
 
 The cause of this unexpected arrival 
 was soon explained. While the men 
 only fifty in number, thirty-three of whom 
 alone were effective were busily en- 
 o-asred on the works of the fort, Monsieur 
 
 o O 
 
 Contrecceur suddenly made his appear 
 ance, at the head of a thousand men, and 
 well provided with artillery and other 
 means of attack. He had just come from 
 the fortified post of Venango, on the Al- 
 leghany, having floated his force down 
 that river, in sixty batteaux and three 
 hundred canoes. He now summoned En 
 sign Ward, who in the absence of Trent 
 and Frazier had been left in command, 
 
 to surrender, and gave him one hour in 
 which to give his answer. Ward was 
 perplexed, as in the absence of his supe 
 riors he hardly cared to take the respon 
 sibility of making any capitulation, how 
 ever urgent might appear its necessity. 
 In this dilemma, he consulted the Indian 
 half-king Tanacharisson, who was an ally 
 of the English, and happened at that time 
 to be in the fort. This wily old savage 
 suggested to Ward to plead want of au 
 thority, and to ask the French command 
 er to be polite enough to postpone the 
 affair for the present. The ensign fol 
 lowed the advice of his Indian counsel 
 lor; but Monsieur Contrecoeur was not 
 to be dissuaded from his purpose, and in 
 sisted more urgently than ever upon im 
 mediate surrender. There was no alter 
 native for Ward ; for what could he do, 
 with only thirty-three men able to bear 
 arms, and a half-built fort, against a thou 
 sand soldiers, and a whole park of artil 
 lery? The fort was accordingly given 
 up, the men being allowed to depart with 
 their tools. These were the visiters who 
 had arrived at Will s creek, and such the 
 story they had to tell of their adven 
 tures. 
 
 Washington, with his handful of men, 
 was sadly perplexed as to his movements. 
 The French greatly outnumbered him in 
 force, and had succeeded by liberal pres 
 ents in winning over to their side the 
 larger tribes of the Indian savages of the 
 wilderness. The French were, moreover 
 in daily expectation of receiving rein 
 forcements from Canada and their south 
 ern possessions ; and no less than six hun 
 dred warriors of the Chippewa and Otta- 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 \va nations were said to be making their 
 way to join the camp of Contrecoeur. All 
 that Washington could calculate upon, in 
 addition to his own small troop, were the 
 hundred and fifty men with the artillery 
 under Fry. These, however, might yet 
 be detained for a long time. As for Trent 
 and his men, no reliance could be put in 
 them. The captain himself was timid 
 and improvident, and his followers a set 
 of independent vagabonds, who, having 
 been enlisted as volunteers, exercised 
 their volition in doing nothing, and in 
 terfering with the general good discipline 
 of the troops. 
 
 Washington now called a council-of- 
 war, in which it was resolved to march 
 to Redstone creek, where the Ohio Com 
 pany had a post. It was proposed to pro 
 ceed thither, and, having encamped, to for 
 tify their position as best they could, un 
 til reinforcements should arrive, or some 
 expedient should suggest itself in the 
 course of events to extricate themselves, 
 or to justify action. Two Indians had 
 come into Washington s camp in compa 
 ny with Ensign Ward and his men. These 
 savages had been sent by Tanacharisson, 
 the chief of the western tribes of Indians, 
 who were friendly to the Virginians. The 
 two Indian warriors bore a speech, pledg 
 ing fidelity to the English, and a belt of 
 wampum as a symbol of friendship for 
 the governor. The wampum was for 
 warded, under the care of its Indian 
 bearer, to Dinwiddie ; and Washington 
 sent back the other Indian with a return 
 speech, in which he invoked the aid of 
 the half-king in council, and called upon 
 him to come down, in company with an 
 
 other sachem, and meet him at a certain 
 point on the road. 
 
 Washington s march began, but w r as 
 exceedingly toilsome and slow, as he was 
 obliged to make the road on which he 
 moved, not only for his own present pur 
 poses, but for the future passage of Fry s 
 artillery. He had sent some sixty men 
 in advance, several days before he set out 
 with the remainder of his whole force, 
 numbering, all told, only one hundred 
 and sixty. The advance party was soon 
 overtaken, as they had made but slow 
 progress in their labors. The rest of 
 Washington s men, on coming up, fell to 
 work also ; but, with all their combined 
 efforts, it was found that they could not 
 get on at the best with more than four 
 miles a day. It took them ten days to 
 reach Little Meadows, only twenty miles 
 from Will s creek, whence they had set 
 out. They, however, continued their la 
 borious undertaking, and labored day af 
 ter day, slaving (as Washington himself 
 describes it) through woods, rocks, and 
 mountains. 
 
 They finally reached the river Yough- 
 ioney, where they were obliged to build 
 a bridge. While engaged in this work, 
 which was an affair of several days, some 
 friendly Indians entered the camp of 
 Washington. On hearing of his plan of 
 constructing a road over the mount 
 ains to Redstone creek, they remonstra 
 ted with him upon the impracticability 
 of such a work. He then, by their ad 
 vice, set out, in company with a guard 
 and an Indian guide, to try the practica 
 bility of the river-route. This was found, 
 however, so full of rocks arid shoals, and 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 APPROACH OF THE ENEMY. 
 
 37 
 
 so interrupted by rapids and falls, that it 
 was useless to attempt to navigate it with 
 boats sufficiently large for military pur 
 poses. Washington accordingly resolved 
 to continue his arduous land-route. 
 
 From day to day, as the Virginians 
 remained encamped on the banks of the 
 Youghioney, and were going on with 
 their work upon the bridge, Indian scouts 
 and white traders came in with every 
 variety of rumor in regard to the enemy. 
 Some told how the French commander 
 was building a strong fort at the fork of 
 the Ohio ; some reported that he had re 
 ceived large reinforcements from Canada, 
 and was preparing to come down the riv 
 er; others, however, declared that the 
 French were only eight hundred strong, 
 and that one half of them had been sent 
 out from the fort on a secret expedition, 
 the object of which was suspected to be 
 an attack upon the English. 
 
 This latter suspicion was confirmed by 
 a direct message from Tanacharisson, the 
 Indian chief, who said : " It is reported 
 that the French army is coming to meet 
 Major Washington. Be on your guard 
 against them, my brethren, for they in 
 tend to strike the first English they shall 
 see. They have been on their march two 
 days. I know not their number. The 
 half-king and the rest of the chiefs will 
 be with you in five days to hold a coun 
 cil." 
 
 This Avas information that could not 
 be disregarded, and Washington made 
 preparations to act in accordance. As 
 he was examining the neighborhood for 
 a proper position in which to entrench 
 his force, and to await the coming up of 
 
 the French, he heard that they had al 
 ready arrived within eighteen miles, and 
 were fording the very river upon the 
 banks of which the Virginians were at 
 that moment encamped. Washington 
 now decided at once upon his position, 
 which was at a spot called the Great 
 Meadows, and with which he was so 
 pleased, that in his journal he terms it 
 "a charming field for an encounter." 
 The space being cleared of its scattered 
 trees, long grass, and thick brushwood, 
 the Virginians were here encamped, and 
 protected by entrenchments. Although 
 scouts were sent out, who diligently 
 coursed the surrounding country, there 
 was no sign of an enemy. Washington s 
 men were, however, in a state of excited 
 expectation, and were prepared for an 
 attack at any moment. There were fre 
 quent alarms ; and on one occasion, in 
 the middle of the night, the sentinels 
 fired upon some men in the dark. Next 
 morning, it was discovered that six sol 
 diers had deserted. 
 
 All doubt now of the approach of an 
 enemy was removed by the arrival of an 
 Indian messenger, who reported that his 
 chief and some of his tribe had reached 
 the neighborhood, and were now only six 
 miles distant. The half-king sent word 
 that he had fallen in with the track of 
 Frenchmen, and did not doubt that they 
 were lurking near by, awaiting a good 
 chance to attack Washington and his par 
 ty. Washington now determined to go 
 at once, although it was night, to meet 
 his friend the half-king, and accordingly 
 started with forty men, and the Indian 
 messenger as guide, to the chief s lod^e 
 
33 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 It was morning before Washington 
 reached the end of his journey, which, as 
 it was through a rough and unbroken 
 country, and during an unusually dark 
 night, with a heavy, pouring rain, was 
 necessarily tedious and fatiguing. The 
 half-king received Washington with a 
 warm welcome, and w r as ready to comply 
 at once with his plans. At his request, 
 Indian scouts were sent out, who soon 
 came back, with the report that they had 
 tracked the French to their encampment. 
 
 With these Indian scouts as his guides, 
 Washington now started with his forty 
 men, and accompanied by the Indian 
 chief Tanacbarisson and a small num 
 ber of his warriors. As they approached 
 the position of the enemy, Washington 
 drew up his men in single file to the 
 right, with himself at their head, and sent 
 the Indians to the left. As the object 
 was to take the French by surprise, the 
 force moved on in perfect silence, so that 
 their approach was not suspected until 
 they met face to face, within gunshot. 
 The French, though taken off their guard, 
 promptly sprang to their arms, and be 
 gan returning the fire of the Virginians. 
 
 Washington, at the head of his men, 
 had been the first to show himself from 
 behind the rocks and trees which con 
 cealed the path that led into the hollow 
 where the enemy was encamped. He 
 accordingly was exposed to the first and 
 hottest fire of the French ; one of his men 
 was killed by his side, and three wound 
 ed, at the first volley. There was not 
 much difference in the numbers of the 
 two opposing parties ; but the French, 
 taken at a disadvantage, w r ere forced to 
 
 give up the struggle, and took to their 
 heels. They w r ere immediately pursued 
 and overtaken, and about a score of pris 
 oners thus secured, whom Washington 
 had some difficulty in keeping out of the 
 merciless bands of his savage allies, who 
 w r ere eager to exercise their tomahawks 
 upon them for the sake of " a little blood 
 ying the edge of the hatchet," as the In 
 dian chief himself, in his broken English, 
 expressed it. 
 
 A young Frenchman, of the name of 
 Jumonville, the leader of the French par 
 ty, was killed at the first fire. As he was 
 much beloved, and was from his influen 
 tial connections of considerable social im 
 portance, his early death w r as the subject 
 of much expressed grief and remark. M. 
 do Villiers, who held a command under 
 De Contrecoeur, w r as the brother-in-law 
 of Jumonville, and, from his desire to 
 screen the memory of his young connec 
 tion, determined to give a complexion to 
 the affair in w T hich he was engaged that 
 is not at all borne out by the facts. 
 
 De Villiers and the French generally 
 declared that Jumonville was only sent 
 out as an embassador, to warn the Eng 
 lish from territory claimed by France ; 
 and that the attack upon him by Wash 
 ington was unjustifiable, and the fatal re 
 sult only deserved to be termed an assas 
 sination, as in fact it was termed in all 
 the French reports. 
 
 It might be enough for us to know that 
 the great and good Washington was an 
 actor in the affair, to denounce the French 
 statement as a base slander ; but we have, 
 in his own words, the true version of the 
 character of Jumonville s party, w T hich 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 SPY OR EMBASSADOR? 
 
 settles the matter beyond any chance of 
 doubt. In his despatch to Governor Din- 
 vviddie, Washington says : " I doubt not 
 but they [the prisoners] will endeavor to 
 amuse you with many smooth stories, as 
 they did me ; but they were confuted in 
 them all, and, by circumstances too plain 
 to be denied, almost made ashamed of 
 their assertions. 
 
 " I have heard since they went away, 
 they should say, they called on us not to 
 fire ; but that I /mow to be fake, for I was 
 the first man that approached them and 
 the first whom they saw, and immediate 
 ly they ran to their arms, and fired brisk 
 ly till they were defeated. I fancy they 
 will have the assurance of asking the 
 privileges due to an embassy, when in 
 strict justice they ought to be hanged, 
 as spies of the worst sort" 
 
 They were spies undoubtedly, but they 
 may have been embassadors as well. It 
 seems, in fact, to have been the object of 
 their orders, to give Jumonville and his 
 force this double character. The written 
 instructions, found on the body of the 
 young French leader, directed him to use 
 every secret means he could to obtain 
 information of the proceedings of the 
 English, and send it back to his chief in 
 command as soon as obtained. It is true 
 he was also ordered to summon the Eng 
 lish to retire from what was claimed to 
 be French territory, but only after he had 
 exhausted his resources as a spy was he 
 expected to begin upon his more digni 
 fied duty of an embassador. Jumonville 
 was caught in the act of his preliminary 
 and less honorable functions, and was 
 dealt with by Washington accordingly. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Washington wins his Spurs. "A Brave Braggart." The Death of Jumonville declared by the French an Assassination. 
 Plans for Revenge. Fort Du Quesne. Expedition against Washington. He fortifies himself at Great Meadows. 
 Nothing daunted, but prudent withal. Tanacharisson s Blood up. Promises to come to the Rescue. Fort Necessity. 
 Sufferings and Trials. Famine approaching. Arrival of Indians. Relief. Promotions. Van Braam a Captain. 
 Captain Mackay and his Independent South-Carolinian Volunteers. The French approach. Return of Washing 
 ton. Stops at Great Meadows. Fortifications. The Idle Carolinians. Washington puts his own Hands to the Work. 
 Fort Necessity described. Desertion of the Half-Chief and his Indians. Tanacharisson s Excuse. The Approach 
 of the Enemy. Attack begun. A Parley proposed. Washington consents to treat. Van Braam appointed Negoti 
 ator. His Knowledge of French and English. Capitulation. Washington made to call Himself an Assassin. Van 
 Braam a Blunderer or a Rogue. How Washington was deceived. He marches out with Colors flying. The French 
 Slanders. Washington s Arrival at Williamsburg. Vote of Thanks. Tanacarisson s Opinion of Washington. 
 Fort Necessity destroyed by the French. Honors paid to the Memory of Jumonville. De Villiers s Return to Mon 
 sieur de Contrecunir. A Reverse in the State of Affairs at Fort Du Quesne. A Reinforcement from Canada. Cham 
 pagne and Costly Velvets. The Court at Versailles exultant over French Successes in the Wilderness. Jumonville 
 called a Hero, Washington an American Fanner and Assassin. A Fanfaron. Louis XV. resolves upon pushing his 
 American Conquests. England feebly remonstrates. The Duke of Cumberland indignant. An accomplished Sec 
 retary of State. The Young Gates. General Braddock. 
 
 THE Virginian colonel had now first 
 "won his spurs," and no ancient knight 
 better deserved to wear them. 
 
 Young 
 
 as Washington was, being only twenty- 
 two years of age, he had borne the brunt 
 of the battle with the steadiness of a vet- 
 
40 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 eran, although lie liad exposed himself 
 perhaps with the too reckless spirit of a 
 youthful adventurer. In writing to a 
 brother, he gives vent to the heat of his 
 young blood in the following burst of 
 enthusiasm : " I fortunately escaped with 
 out any wound ; for the right wing, where 
 I stood, was exposed to and received all 
 the enemy s fire ; and it was the part 
 where the man was killed and the rest 
 wounded. / heard the bullets whistle, and., 
 believe me, there is something charming in the 
 sound"* Horace Walpole termed this the 
 rhodomontade of "a brave braggart;" 
 and George II. is said to have remarked, 
 when he heard of it, " He would not say 
 so if he had been used to hear many 
 [bullets]." Washington, at a later peri 
 od of life, when time had subdued the 
 reckless daring of youth into the prudent 
 courage of age, replied, when asked if he 
 had ever made the remarks about the 
 whistling of bullets, " If I said so, it was 
 when I was young." 
 
 A French Canadian, having escaped 
 the fate of most of his companions, suc 
 ceeded in reaching the headquarters of 
 Contrecoeur, and gave in his account of 
 the death of Jumonville, and the fatal 
 result of his expedition. De Villiers, the 
 brother-in-law of Jumonville, was greatly 
 excited by these tidings of wo, and, swear 
 ing revenge, declared at once in favor of 
 the most violent and vindictive measures. 
 He was, however, overborne by the more 
 judicious of his fellow-officers ; and it was 
 finally agreed in the council that six hun- 
 
 * This letter is endorsed by Washington Irving, in his 
 "Life of Washington," as genuine, although the expression 
 italicized lias been hitherto suspected to have been a mere 
 bit of idle scandal propagated by the gossip Walpole. 
 
 dred men should be despatched immedi 
 ately, under Monsieur de Villiers as chief 
 in command, to meet the Virginians. 
 
 Contrecoeur had, ever since he had 
 ejected Ward and his thirty men from the 
 fork of the Ohio, been busy in strength 
 ening that important point. The works 
 had been placed under the supervision 
 of Mercier, an artillery-officer of merit, 
 and he had succeeded in completing a 
 very substantial fort, which Contrecoeur 
 had called, in honor of the governor of 
 Canada, Fort Du Quesne. Mercier s work 
 being over, he was in readiness to join 
 De Villiers, to whom he was appointed 
 second in command ; and the French 
 force sallied forth, without more ado, in 
 search of Washington. 
 
 Washington, in the meantime, had re 
 turned to his camp at the Great Mead 
 ows, and, having sent off his prisoners 
 and despatches to the governor of Vir 
 ginia, prepared to strengthen his position 
 with the expectation of an early attack 
 by the French. He had heard of the 
 completion of the new fort of Du Quesne, 
 and of the large number of troops gath 
 ering there. He knew that Contrecoeur 
 would not be long in striking a blow, in 
 return for the death of Jumonville and 
 the defeat of his party. He was there 
 fore in daily expectation of an attack 
 and an attack in which he would be at 
 the disadvantage of an inferior force. 
 lie, however, was nothing daunted. " I 
 shall expect every hour to be attacked," 
 he writes, " and by unequal numbers, 
 which I must withstand, if there are five 
 to one." Young and daring as he was, 
 Washington was not wanting, even at 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 FORT NECESSITY. 
 
 41 
 
 that early age of self-confidence, in the 
 prudence and foresight which marked 
 his subsequent life. " Your honor," he 
 declares in his despatch to the governor 
 of Virginia, u may depend I will not be 
 surprised, let them come at what hour 
 they will." His deeds confirmed his 
 words, and he set about diligently ma 
 king every preparation for the coming 
 attack. He finished his entrenchments 
 at Great Meadows, and began to erect a 
 palisade. He sent a messenger with all 
 despatch to Colonel Fry, who was ill at 
 Will s creek, with a request that he would 
 send at once as many of his men as he 
 could spare. The half-king Tanacharis- 
 son did not require much urging, as his 
 savage blood, having become heated in 
 the late fight with the French, was now 
 boiling fiercely for another struggle. The 
 chief accordingly, having sent the scalps 
 token from the French dead, and the sig 
 nificant hatchet, to his Indian allies, the 
 Mingoes and Shawnees, strove to engage 
 them to take up arms for his brothers 
 the English. He himself went away to 
 join his own people, promising soon to 
 return with forty or more of his own war 
 riors. 
 
 Having completed his fortification at 
 the Great Meadows, Washington gave it 
 the name of Fort Necessity, as well he 
 might, from the compulsory trials to 
 which he had been subjected in the 
 course of its construction. Here he was 
 forced to make a stand to await the ap 
 proach of an enemy that far outnum 
 bered his own small force. Here he 
 heard of the death of Fry at Will s creek; 
 and here his men, worn out with daily 
 6 
 
 toil, were deprived of their daily bread. 
 The small camp almost suffered from fam 
 ine in consequence of the neglect of the 
 trader Croghan, who had contracted to 
 supply the troops with flour. For nearly 
 a week they were deprived of this essen 
 tial staff of life. The scarcity, moreover, 
 which was so great as to bring Washing 
 ton s men to the verge of starvation, was 
 further increased by the arrival at the 
 camp of the half-king, his forty warriors, 
 and all their families. Supplies, however, 
 fortunately soon reached the almost fam 
 ished garrison. 
 
 Washington succeeded to the chief 
 command by the death of Fry, upon the 
 arrival of whose detachment from Will s 
 creek the force at Fort Necessity was in 
 creased to three hundred. A further ad 
 dition was expected from South Carolina, 
 which had enrolled an independent com 
 pany of one hundred men, under the com 
 mand of a Captain Mackay, whose arri 
 val was daily looked for. 
 
 Some changes in rank occurred among 
 the other officers in consequence of Wash 
 ington s advancement. Captain Adam 
 Stephen was promoted to a majority, and 
 Jacob Van Braam, Washington s old com 
 panion and interpreter, was made a cap 
 tain. 
 
 Fort Necessity having been put in a 
 tolerable condition, Washington (leaving 
 the hundred men of South Carolina and 
 their captain, Mackay, who had lately ar 
 rived, as a garrison to defend it) took up 
 again his old route for Redstone creek. 
 Washington had so much trouble with 
 Mackay s troop, as they considered them 
 selves in the light of volunteers, and thus 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 relieved from the obligation of ordinary 
 military duty, that he determined to pro 
 ceed without them in the toilsome labors 
 of completing the military road. The 
 Virginians had not been many days gone, 
 when intelligence was received of the ap 
 proach of the force which we have seen 
 was sent out from Fort Du Quesne. Wash 
 ington sent immediately for Captain Mac- 
 kay, and on his arrival a council-of-war 
 was held, at which it was resolved that it 
 was necessary to take up some more se 
 cure position than that where they were 
 then encamped, although they had pro 
 tected themselves by hurriedly throwing 
 up entrenchments. 
 
 The whole force now began to retire ; 
 and, after a toilsome retreat, for want of 
 a sufficiency of pack-horses and wagons, 
 
 finally reached Fort Necessity. 
 
 The Virginians complained loud 
 ly during the whole route of the Carolin 
 ians, who left all the work of clearing the 
 road, carrying the baggage, and dragging 
 the artillery, to them, while those inde 
 pendent military gentlemen considered 
 it inconsistent with their dignity to do 
 anything else but march in battle array. 
 When Washington reached the fort, he 
 found that his own men, either worn 
 down with fatigue, or influenced by the 
 bad example of the Carolinians, would 
 not move a step farther, and was fain to 
 rest at the Great Meadows, and there 
 await the coming of the French. 
 
 There was no time to spare, and Wash 
 ington set his men at work at once upon 
 the fort, which he strove to strengthen 
 by a breastwork of timber. The Caro 
 linians still looked idly on, while the Vir- 
 
 July 1, 
 
 ginians,with Washington himself putting 
 his own hands to the work, laboriously 
 cut down the trees, and rolled up their 
 great trunks to protect the small en 
 trenchment. 
 
 Fort Necessity was a rude stockade, 
 about a hundred feet square, and sur 
 rounded by trenches. It stood in the 
 middle of the Great Meadows, on a level 
 spot hemmed in by hills mostly covered 
 with wood. A small stream ran near the 
 place, and continued its course along the 
 base of the high ground and through the 
 valley which opened into the Great Mea 
 dows. 
 
 Washington, while thus manfully pre 
 paring to defend himself with his hand 
 ful of men against the larger force which 
 was coming to attack him, was further 
 weakened by the desertion of the half- 
 chief and his Indians. Tanacharisson pre 
 tended to be disaffected in consequence 
 of not having been sufficiently listened 
 to by Washington in the formation of 
 his plans. It was, however, suspected 
 that the Indians wished only to secure 
 the safety of their families ; and, as they 
 were aware of the overpowering num 
 bers of the French, they feared the fatal 
 result of an encounter at such odds. As 
 some few of the Indians who had no 
 wives still remained, it was supposed 
 that the motive just given was the real 
 cause of the desertion of those who went 
 away. 
 
 The first sign of the approach of the 
 enemy was the arrival, early in the mom 
 ma; of a wounded sentinel, who 
 
 , , , Jiy s, 
 
 came staggering in from the outr 
 
 posts. Washington immediately drew up 
 
COLONIAL. 
 
 CAPITULATION OF FORT NECESSITY. 
 
 43 
 
 his men on the plain to meet the antici 
 pated attack, which was now made cer 
 tain by the arrival of the scouts with in 
 formation that a large body of French 
 and Indians was within a few miles, and 
 rapidly approaching. Toward noon the 
 enemy had taken possession of a neigh 
 boring hill, and commenced a fire from 
 under cover of the trees. Their shots at 
 first fell short, and were not returned by 
 the provincials. The fire, however, of the 
 French soon began to tell more effectual 
 ly, and Washington wa.- forced to order 
 his men within the fortifications; and 
 here they kept up a straggling fire with 
 the enemy, seldom securing a good aim 
 at them, as they were hid among the 
 trees. This kind of skirmishing lasted the 
 whole day, the English having already 
 lost thirty while the French had only 
 three killed, when, night coming on, De 
 Villiers proposed a parley. 
 
 After some hesitation on the part of 
 Washington, who suspected a ruse, he 
 consented to send an officer to treat with 
 the French commander. Van Braam, who 
 had some pretensions to the knowledge 
 of the language, was selected. He made 
 several journeys backward and forward, 
 between the fort and the enemy s camp, 
 before he brought terms of capitulation 
 to which Washington was willing to as 
 sent. 
 
 These were sent by the French com 
 mander, written out in clue form ; and, 
 upon being delivered to Washington by 
 Van Braam, that officer was called upon 
 to translate them. This he undertook 
 to do, and how far he was equal to the 
 undertaking will be found by the result. 
 
 Washington and his officers, neither of 
 whom understood a word of French, be 
 lieved that they had got a fair idea of 
 the terms of capitulation proposed, al 
 though Van Braam was evidently not 
 quite at his ease either in French or Eng 
 lish. There was no objection made to 
 any of the stipulations as translated, with 
 the exception of that which proposed 
 that Washington should give up all his 
 artillery and ammunition to the enemy. 
 This he would not concede, and De Vil 
 liers accordingly altered it. 
 
 The besieged were in a condition not 
 very favorable certainly for insisting up 
 on the most liberal terms. Their cattle 
 had fallen into the hands of the enemy, 
 and Washington had only two bags of 
 flour and a little bacon left to feed his 
 whole three hundred men upon; while 
 all were so worn out with the hard and 
 hurried labor upon the works during the 
 three days and nights previous, that it 
 required all the undaunted spirit of their 
 young commander to cheer on their flag 
 ging energies. The weather, too, Avas 
 unfavorable. The rain poured in such 
 torrents, that it overflowed the trenches, 
 and, wetting the firelocks of the men, 
 prevented them often from returning the 
 fire of their assailants. 
 
 Washington, however, was, even un 
 der such circumstances of discourage 
 ment, not disposed to make any but the 
 most honorable terms of capitulation witli 
 the enemy. He accordingly insisted that 
 he should be allowed to depart with all 
 the honors of war, with drums beating 
 and colors flying. That Washington, 
 therefore, could have been aware, when 
 
44 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 lie signed the capitulation, that it con 
 tained the expression, " the assassination of 
 Jumonville," is preposterous. The death 
 of that young Frenchman, however, was 
 thus described, and Washington had sign 
 ed the paper upon which the base word 
 was written ! Of course, no one now be 
 lieves that Washington ever knowingly 
 was made to condemn his own honorable 
 action, which resulted in the death of Ju 
 monville, as the deed of an assassin. The 
 French at the time, however, made a great 
 deal of this admission, which appears to 
 have been particularly sweet to De Vil- 
 liers s desire to revenge his young rela 
 tive. In his report of the affair at Fort 
 Necessity, he says : " We made the Eng 
 lish consent to sign that they had assas 
 sinated my brother in his camp." 
 
 It has been suspected that the cunning 
 French commander had bribed Van Braam 
 to misconstrue purposely the word assas- 
 sinat, in order that the French might in 
 dulge a stolen pleasure of revenge. It 
 is, however, more probable that the stu 
 pid Van Braam, who knew very little 
 English and much less French, made an 
 unintentional blunder in the translation. 
 Still, the French ^vord assassinat corre 
 sponds so nearly with our own " assas 
 sination," that we could hardly conceive 
 how Washington himself, even with his 
 ignorance of the French language, should 
 have been misled, were it not from this 
 fact. The paper with the written stipu 
 lations was brought in at nicrht, and read 
 
 O O 
 
 in the trenches, by means of a candle 
 held close to the face of the blundering 
 Van Braam, who was undertaking to read 
 and explain its purport in broken Eng- 
 
 July 4, 
 
 lish. The rain w^as pouring in torrents at 
 the same moment, and Washington and 
 his officers were gathered in a confused 
 group about the reader, while there was 
 the greatest difficulty to see with suffi 
 cient distinctness to make out the wri 
 ting, or even to keep the candle burning. 
 Washington probably, in the confusion 
 and uncertain light, never saw the origi 
 nal word, and intrusted implicitly to his 
 interpreter. 
 
 Early next day, Washington, 
 having destroyed his artillery, 
 and hid away his military stores, as had 
 been agreed upon, led out his men, with 
 all the honors of war. Van Braam, who 
 could be Avell spared, and a Captain Stobo, 
 who was a man of different arid more gen 
 uine metal, were left with the French 
 commander as hostages for the fulfilment 
 of the terms of the capitulation. De Vil- 
 liers, in his report, utters a contemptuous 
 lie, declaring that " the English, struck 
 ivith panic, took to flight, and left their 
 flag and one of their colors." They did 
 leave their regimental flag, because it Avas 
 too burdensome to carry, but their colors 
 they bore away flying, as they were enti 
 tled to by the concession made by this 
 same De Villiers who forged the lie. 
 
 The French had been better occupied 
 in keeping their own word than in de 
 vising false accusations against others. 
 They had pledged themselves that Wash 
 ington and his men should be allowed to 
 march out without molestation ; and yet 
 they had hardly got out of the fort, when 
 the Indians from De Villiers s camp be 
 gan plundering the baggage, and it was 
 found necessary, in consequence, to tie- 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 TWO OPINIONS OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 45 
 
 *troy the greater part of it, in order to 
 get rid of these ravenous savages. In a 
 few days, after a toilsome journey, Wash 
 ington succeeded in leading his jaded and 
 disheartened force to Will s creek, where, 
 with abundant provisions, and in a snug 
 encampment, they were left to recruit 
 their strength and health, until they 
 might be in proper condition to march 
 homeward. Washington himself pushed 
 on directly for Williamsburg, to give in 
 his report of the unfortunate but honor 
 able results of the expedition. His own 
 province justly estimated Washington s 
 services, and he received a vote of thanks 
 from the Virginia house of burgesses for 
 his courage and the prudence of his con 
 duct. 
 
 The old chief Tanacharisson, however, 
 who had deserted his " white brother" in 
 his emergency, took, as it seems, a very 
 different view of Washington s manage 
 ment. " The colonel," he said, " w r as . a 
 good-natured man, but had no experi 
 ence ; he took upon him to command the 
 Indians as his slaves, and would have 
 them every day upon the scout, and to 
 attack the enemy by themselves, but 
 would by no means take advice from the 
 Indians. He lay in one place from one 
 full moon to the other, without making 
 any fortifications, except that little thing 
 in the Meadow ; whereas, had he taken 
 advice, and built such fortifications as he 
 (Tanacharisson) advised him, he might 
 easily have beat off the French. But the 
 French, in the engagement, acted like 
 cowards, and the English like fools." 
 
 De Villiers, having taken possession 
 of Fort Necessity on its surrender, set i 
 
 about destroying its rude and incomplete 
 works, and then started on his return 
 to Fort Du Quesne. As there was little 
 to be done in demolishing the simple 
 defences of the English provincials, the 
 French were enabled to get through their 
 labors in a single morning, and marched 
 out on the very same day that Washing 
 ton departed. Their force was now di 
 vided into two parties, and both went to 
 work destroying all the English trading- 
 posts and stockades met with in the 
 course of their different routes. De Vil 
 liers led his detachment to the scene of 
 Jumonville s defeat and death, and, with 
 pious affection, seeking out from among 
 the mangled corpses of the slain (who, in 
 accordance with Indian warfare, lay scat 
 tered about with their skulls bared by 
 the tomahawk) his brother s body, buried 
 it w r ith the honors of a soldier s grave. 
 This pious duty performed, De Villiers 
 hastened on to Fort Du Quesne, where 
 he arrived on the 7th day of July. 
 
 Monsieur de Contrecccur and his gar 
 rison on the Monongahela were not found 
 by De Villiers in such a flourishing con 
 dition as when he had left them on his 
 expedition down the Ohio. Supplies, 
 which had been sent out for the provis-. 
 ion of the fort, had been delayed on the 
 route. Those who had charge of them 
 had wandered from their way, and, not 
 succeeding in finding horses and wagons 
 to carry their burden, were obliged to 
 bear it themselves. With the fatigue, 
 the delay, and the scarcity of provisions, 
 the men sickened ; and no less than four 
 hundred of the party died from the effects 
 of hunger, exhaustion, and the scurvy. 
 
r 
 
 46 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPAKT i 
 
 Those who escaped finally broke open 
 (.he packages with which they were 
 charged, and helped themselves freely to 
 their contents. They thus got an abun 
 dant supply of the generous wines of 
 Champagne and Bordeaux., and in their 
 wild orgies dressed themselves, in the 
 midst of the wilderness, in the costly vel 
 vet uniforms sent to grace the dignity of 
 Monsieur de Contrecoeur and his fellow- 
 officers. When they arrived at the fort, 
 they had hardly anything to offer but 
 themselves, tricked off in the gaudy suits 
 of their superiors. Fresh instalments, 
 however, from Canada, soon put Fort 
 Du Quesne on a more satisfactory foot 
 ing, and its commander was enabled to 
 carry out his plans, for the possession of 
 the Ohio, in a manner to gratify the un 
 bounded appetite of his sovereign for do 
 minion. 
 
 The court at Versailles were in raptures 
 with French success in America; and, 
 while they slandered the young Wash 
 ington., they elevated the unfortunate 
 Jumonville to the rank of a hero. His 
 death was mourned in story, as that of 
 the brave and the good ; while Washing 
 ton, ce plantcur Americain that American 
 farmer who in a few years afterward was 
 to be hailed as the regenerator of the 
 human race by the people of France 
 was held up to scorn, by the minions of 
 a lewd king and his shameless mistress, 
 as an assassin ! 
 
 In England, there was hardly any more 
 disposition to do Washington justice ; 
 and we are not surprised to find Wai pole 
 recording, in one of his gossiping letters, 
 that " the French have tied up the hands 
 
 of an excellent fanfaron., a Major Wash 
 ington, whom they took and engaged not 
 to serve for a year." Throughout Eng 
 land, however, the ill success of the Vir 
 ginian expedition, whatever may have 
 been thought of its young and heroic 
 leader, was received with undisguised 
 vexation. The government remonstra 
 ted, through their embassador at the 
 court of Versailles, the dissolute Albc- 
 marle, against the aggressions of the 
 French in America. These remonstran 
 ces, however, produced no effect, Louis 
 XV. continued to send reinforcements to 
 Canada, and made no secret of his deter 
 mination to follow up his successes at 
 Fort Necessity with further attempts up 
 on the territory west of the Alleghanie^. 
 Great Britain, with unusual equanimity 
 of temper, contented itself with opposing 
 these overt acts of hostility by sending a 
 little advice to its colonies. These were 
 urged to unite for their common protec 
 tion, and defend themselves against the 
 w r hole pow r er of France. The languid 
 hands of Pelham, and the weak grasp of 
 the incapable duke of Newcastle, then 
 held the reins of power, and the active 
 aid necessary could hardly be expected 
 from the indolent prime minister and his 
 feeble brother. 
 
 The duke of Cumberland was indig 
 nant at the inaction of his government, 
 and swore that, rather than lose one foot 
 of ground in America, he would oppose 
 the enemies of his country in that part 
 of the world himself. To this prince, in 
 fact, the colonies were finally indebted 
 for the aid, such as it was, that the} re 
 ceived. Little, certainly, could be ex- 
 
 i - 
 L_ 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 GENERAL BRADDOCK. 
 
 pected, when left to himself, from the 
 duke of Newcastle, " a statesman without 
 capacity, or the smallest tincture of hu 
 man learning ; a secretary who could not 
 write ; a financier who did not understand 
 the multiplication-table ; and the treasur 
 er of a vast empire who never could bal 
 ance accounts with his own butler." Such 
 a man could be of little assistance any 
 where, and least of all in a country of 
 which he knew so little, that, when it was 
 suggested that Annapolis should be de 
 fended, replied : " Annapolis, Annapolis ! 
 Oh, yes, Annapolis must be defended ; to 
 be sure, Annapolis should be defended : 
 where is Annapolis ?" 
 
 After considerable delay, when noth 
 ing was done, the necessity of doing 
 something was agreed upon, but how to 
 do it was the puzzling question. The 
 duke of Newcastle, in his ignorance, was 
 reduced to all sorts of makeshifts for his 
 want of knowledge and capacity. Hav 
 ing heard of a young officer of the name 
 of Gates, who had just returned from 
 America where he had, while on duty 
 
 in Nova Scotia, learned something of 
 American affairs his grace of Newcas 
 tle sent for him. 
 
 On being closeted with the minister, 
 Gates was asked for a plan for an Ameri 
 can campaign ; but he pleaded his youth 
 and inexperience, and modestly declined. 
 Others were resorted to in the emergen 
 cy. Pitt, on being asked his views, slyly 
 answered : " Your grace knows I have 
 no capacity for these things ; and there 
 fore I do not desire to be informed about 
 them." Sharpe, who had been a lieuten- 
 antrgovernor of Maryland ; Hanbury, the 
 chief of the Ohio Company ; L ords Towns- 
 hend and Walpole, had all been consult 
 ed in turn when, finally, it was found 
 advisable to leave the whole regulation 
 of the American difficulty to the duke of 
 Cumberland. This martial prince w r as 
 for sending out immediately a military 
 force to drive the French from the banks 
 of the Ohio. Two regiments of the line 
 were accordingly detached at once for 
 service in Virginia, and the command 
 bestowed upon General Braddock. 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 General Braddock. His Life and Character. Braddock s Family. His Sister, Fanny Braddock. Her Love, and Tragic 
 Death. A Brother s Tribute to a Sister s Memory. An Iroquois. Braddock s Military Career. His Life in Lon 
 don. Mrs. Upton and her Last Shilling. Braddock s Duel with the Earl of Bath. A Poor Dog ! His Farewell of 
 a Frail but Constant Friend. Braddock exiled by Poverty. Eecalled by the Duke of Cumberland, and given the 
 Command of the American Expedition. His Age and Military Character. 
 
 1754, 
 
 " DESPERATE in his fortune, brutal 
 in his behavior, obstinate in his sen 
 timents, he was still intrepid and capa 
 ble," are the few, biting words in which 
 Walpole sums up the character of the 
 
 general appointed to command the regi 
 ments now about to be sent out to Amer- 
 Six feet high, of Atlantean shoul- 
 
 ica. 
 
 ders, of good appetite, and a lover of his 
 bottle, he was equal to any effort of per- 
 
48 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 sonal vigor. He was a match for the 
 best swordsman in the army, and could 
 drink his whole mess under the table ! 
 He swore copiously, as troopers were 
 wont to do in those days. Turbulent 
 and pugnacious, he was never so much 
 at his ease as in the hurly-burly of war. 
 Intrepid and loyal, he was always ready 
 to fight for his king or his great master, 
 his royal highness the burly duke of 
 Cumberland, whom he was proud to copy 
 as the model soldier. 
 
 Of Braddock s early history little is 
 known, although there is sufficient proof 
 that he was not altogether the low ad 
 venturer it has been the habit of histo 
 rians to represent him. His father him 
 self was a soldier, and possessed of suffi 
 cient patronage or desert to have reached 
 the rank of major-general, with a colo 
 nelcy in the guards. He was known as a 
 retired veteran officer, living in his old 
 age at the fashionable town of Bath, 
 where he died on the 15th of June, 1725. 
 He was evidently a man of competent 
 fortune, for on his death he left no less 
 than six thousand pounds as a provision 
 for his two daughters, and probably a 
 much larger sum to his only son, Edward 
 Braddock. 
 
 One of the daughters died early, and 
 her sister, Fanny Braddock, became pos 
 sessed of her share of the father s legacy. 
 Goldsmith, in his life of Beau Nash, has 
 told the romantic story of Fanny, under 
 
 the name of " Miss Sylvia S ," with 
 
 his usual sweetness of narrative and gen 
 tle kindness of sympathy. She was de 
 scended, he says, from one of the best 
 families in the kingdom, and was left a 
 
 large fortune upon her sister s decease. 
 Whatever the finest poet could conceive 
 of wit, or the most celebrated painter im 
 agine of beauty, were excelled in the 
 perfections of this young lady. She was 
 naturally gay, generous to a fault, good- 
 natured to the highest degree, affable in 
 conversation ; and some of her letters 
 and other writings, as well in verse as 
 prose, would have shone among those of 
 the most celebrated wits of this or any 
 other age, had they been published. 
 
 But these qualifications were marked 
 by another, which lessened the value of 
 them all. She was imprudent. " By 
 which," says the kind biographer, " I only 
 mean she had no knowledge of the use 
 of money." She was arrive d at the age 
 of nineteen, when the crowd of her lov 
 ers and the continued repetition of new 
 flattery had taught her to think that she 
 could never be forsaken, and never poor. 
 " Young ladies are apt to expect," wisely 
 moralizes Goldsmith, in a strain that re 
 minds us of a passage in the " Vicar of 
 Wakefield," " a certainty of success from 
 a number of lovers ; and yet I have sel 
 dom seen a girl courted by a hundred 
 lovers that found a husband in any. Be 
 fore the choice is fixed, she has either 
 lost her reputation or her good sense ; 
 and the loss of either is sufficient to con 
 sign her to perpetual virginity." 
 
 Among the number of this young la 
 dy s lovers was a handsome, good-natured, 
 easy kind of fellow, of whose name we 
 can learn nothing beyond its initial " S." 
 He was " constitutionally virtuous," but 
 practically it appears quite the contrary, 
 for he followed the " dictates of every 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 FATE OF FANNY BRADDOCK. 
 
 49 
 
 newest passion." He loved Fanny Brad- 
 dock, and Fanny Braddock loved him. 
 The vices of the man (Goldsmith gently 
 terms them "imprudences") soon ruined 
 him, and he was thrown into prison for 
 debt. Fanny Braddock, with the disin 
 terestedness of a pure and loving woman, 
 was resolutely bent on freeing him, and 
 sacrificed her whole fortune in relieving 
 her lover from his obligations to his cred 
 itors, and thus restored him to liberty. 
 
 S , instead of improving in friendship 
 
 or affection, only studied to avoid a cred 
 itor he could never repay ; for, " though 
 small favors produce good will, great ones 
 destroy friendship," says Goldsmith, who 
 could utter maxims worthy of Solomon, 
 while he lived as riotously as the Prodi 
 gal Son. 
 
 Poor Fanny, however, was ruined, in 
 reputation as well as in fortune, by this 
 profuse generosity to her ungrateful lov 
 er. Beau Nash, then meeting with her 
 among some of his friends in London, 
 prevailed upon her to go with him to 
 Bath, where the Beau, being paramount 
 in power, might introduce her to the 
 best company, and leave it to her merit 
 to do the rest. People of distinction 
 courted her acquaintance, and strove to 
 divert her with the social enjoyments and 
 fashionable frivolities of the place ; but it 
 was apparent that a settled melancholy 
 had taken possession of her mind, and she 
 moved among, but was not of, the gay 
 throng. With loss of love, loss of for 
 tune, loss of friends, and loss of health, 
 she was finally induced, as a mere refuge 
 from her own wretchedness, to yield to 
 the invitation of a Dame Lindsey, who 
 7 
 
 desired to secure so much beauty, as an 
 additional temptation to those who re 
 sorted to her gambling-rooms. Although 
 
 * } o o 
 
 she yielded to Dame Lindsey s invitation, 
 Fanny Braddock is believed never to 
 have been tainted with any other vice 
 than that of presiding at the hazard-table 
 for the advantage of others. 
 
 She could not long, however, endure 
 this disgrace, and preferred the humble 
 condition of a housekeeper in a gentle 
 man s family, to which her poverty now 
 reduced her. Here she remained, always 
 sad, but faithful to her duty. The gen 
 tleman with whom she lived now went 
 up to London with his wife, leaving the 
 children and the house to her care. On 
 the day when he was expected to return, 
 Fanny, after the discharge of her daily 
 household duty, went into the dining 
 room and wrote these lines upon one of 
 the window-panes: 
 
 " O Death ! them pleasing end of human wo ! 
 Thou cure for life, thou greatest good below ! 
 Still mayst thou fly the coward and the slave. 
 And thy soft slumbers only bless the brave." 
 
 Some visiters coming in, she entertained 
 them cheerfully, and, on their going out, 
 she went to the library, where she had 
 ordered supper. Here " she spent the 
 remaining hours preceding bed-time in 
 dandling two of Mr. Wood s (the gentle 
 man in whose family she lived) children 
 on her knees. In retiring thence to her 
 chamber, she went into the nursery, to 
 take her leave of another child, as it lay 
 sleeping in the cradle. Struck with the 
 innocence of the little babe s looks, and 
 the consciousness of her meditated guilt, 
 she could not avoid bursting into tears> 
 
50 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART i 
 
 and hugging it in her arms. She then 
 bade her old servant a Good-night, for 
 the first time she had ever done so, and 
 went to bed as usual. 
 
 "It is probable she soon quitted her 
 bed. She then dressed herself in clean 
 linen and white garments of every kind, 
 like a bridesmaid. Her gown she pinned 
 over her breast just as a nurse pins the 
 swaddling-clothes of an infant." She 
 then took a pink-silk girdle, and, length 
 ening it with another made of gold 
 thread, she made a noose at one end, and 
 tied three knots at a small distance from 
 each other. 
 
 She now sat down to read that passage 
 in Ariosto s " Orlando Furioso," where 
 Olympia is abandoned by her bosom 
 friend, and ruined. Having laid aside 
 her book, she arose, took the girdle she 
 had prepared, and, tying it about her 
 neck, stepped upon a stool, and, throw 
 ing the end of the girdle over a closet- 
 door, attempted to hang herself. The 
 girdle, however, broke with her weight ; 
 and she fell with such a noise, that a 
 workman, who was passing the night in 
 the house, was awoke. He, nevertheless, 
 thinking nothing more of it, turned over 
 and fell asleep again. She now made 
 another attempt, with a stronger girdle, 
 made of silver thread, and succeeded. 
 Her old maid next morning waited as 
 usual the ringing of the bell, and pro 
 tracted her patience, hour after hour, till 
 two o clock in the afternoon, when the 
 workmen, at length entering the room 
 through the window, found their unfor 
 tunate mistress still hanging, and quite 
 cold. 
 
 Such is the history of Fanny Braddock, 
 for the most part as related by Goldsmith. 
 " Hundreds in high life," says he. u la 
 mented her fate." Her brother, when 
 he heard of it, remarked, " Poor Fanny ! 
 I always thought she would play till she 
 would be forced to tuck herself up." Hor 
 ace Walpole might well say, " Braddock 
 is a very Iroquois in disposition." 
 
 Braddock was early led to a military 
 life, by its being his father s profession. 
 He probably entered the army, as is the 
 custom with " young bloods" in England, 
 before he had got out of his teens, and 
 too soon to have acquired much educa 
 tion. His first commission dates from 
 the llth of October, 1710, when he be 
 came ensign in the Coldstream guards. 
 His promotion, although not very rapid, 
 was sufficiently so to show that he had 
 either the command of money or the ben 
 efit of patronage. He probably had both, 
 as his father was an officer of high rank, 
 and withal tolerably rich. The fact of 
 the son beginning in a crack regiment, 
 like that of the Coldstream, proves that 
 his career must have opened with the 
 advantage of either family, favor, or for 
 tune. In six years from the date of his 
 first commission he becomes a lieutenant ; 
 in twenty years more he is a captain ; 
 and, in the brief period of seven years, 
 we find him with the high rank of lieu 
 tenant-colonel in the line, and second 
 major in his own regiment, the second 
 of the Foot-guards. 
 
 Braddock had considerable opportuni 
 ties of seeing service. He had served in 
 Flanders and Spain, and distinguished 
 himself at the battle of Fontenoy, where 
 
COLONIAL. J 
 
 BRADDOCK S LIFE IN LONDON. 
 
 51 
 
 the French won so brilliant a victory, and 
 the Guards, of whom Braddock was an 
 officer, fought so furiously in the action, 
 and drew off with such cool courage and 
 steady discipline in the retreat, as to win 
 for the English soldier almost enough 
 credit to compensate for his being beaten. 
 Braddock was promoted, immediately af 
 ter the battle of Fontenoy, to the first 
 majority of his regiment, and in a few 
 months later to a lieutenantrcolonelcy. 
 He served under the duke of Cumber 
 land in Scotland, when that "sanguinary" 
 prince was engaged in his cruel raid 
 against the Young Pretender and his Jac 
 obite defenders. Braddock had evident 
 ly won the esteem of Cumberland, who 
 sought every opportunity to serve him. 
 After service in Scotland, and a further 
 campaign in the Low Countries, peace 
 was declared, and Braddock returned 
 with his regiment to London. 
 
 While in the capital, Braddock, like 
 most officers, lived a gay life. He was 
 known about town as a gallant blade, 
 reckless of every virtue save that of cour 
 age, and as prodigal of his money as he 
 was careless of character. He gambled, as 
 did all the men of the world of his day ; 
 and his losses at hazard often placed him 
 in such strait, that he was tempted to re 
 sort to means to replenish his purse, if 
 we can believe some of the stories told 
 of him, which proved him to be far from 
 the gallant gentleman that he doubtless 
 wished to be considered. 
 
 It is said that a certain Mrs. Upton, 
 well known to (ill) fame in London, was 
 a paramour of Braddock, and we are 
 told this anecdote of his relations with 
 
 her : " One day, Mrs. Upton frankly an 
 swered a demand for money by pulling 
 out her purse, with but twelve or four 
 teen shillings in it. With the keen eye 
 of an experienced forager, Braddock saw 
 cause to suspect that this was not all its 
 contents. Let me see that! he cried, 
 and snatched it from her hand. In the 
 farther end he found five guineas. Coolly 
 emptying all the money into his pocket, 
 he tossed the empty purse into his mis 
 tress s lap. Did you mean to cheat me ? 
 cried he ; and he turned his back upon 
 the house, to see her no more." This 
 piece of dirty meanness was freely talked 
 about in every coffee and club house in 
 London ; and, finally, Fielding held Brad- 
 dock up to public contempt, by bringing 
 him on the stage, as Captain Bilkum, in 
 the " Covent-Garden Tragedy."* The au 
 thor of the book just quoted has ferreted 
 out this interesting literary item, and 
 gives the following passage from Field 
 ing s play, in which Braddock s dirty 
 transaction with Mrs. Upton is supposed 
 to be alluded to : 
 
 " Oh ! tis not in the power of punch to save 
 My grief-strung soul, since Hecatissa s false 
 Since she could hide a poor half-guinea from me ! 
 Oh ! had I searched her pockets ere I rose, 
 I had not left a single shilling in them !" 
 
 Braddock s inveterate habits of gam 
 bling kept him constantly in debt, and 
 often involved him in quarrels with some 
 of his fellow-debauchees. It was in con 
 sequence of some dispute at the hazard 
 table, or some refusal to settle a claim 
 
 * The History of the Expedition against Fort Du Qnesne, 
 &c., by Winthrop Sargent, M. A. : Philadelphia, 1855. A 
 valuable work, to which we have been indebted for many of 
 the facts in this narrative 
 
52 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART I 
 
 incurred there, which brought him a chal 
 lenge to fight from a Colonel Gumley,the 
 brother-in-law of the earl of Bath. When 
 they reached the ground and were going 
 to engage, Gurnley, who had good hu 
 mor and wit, said : " Braddock, you are 
 a poor dog ! Here, take my purse ; if 
 you kill me, you will be forced to run 
 away, and then you will not have a shil 
 ling to support you." Braddock refused 
 the purse, insisted on the duel, was dis 
 armed, and would not even ask for his 
 life. 
 
 Braddock, as a man of wit and pleas 
 ure, and, moreover, with the reputation 
 of a brave officer and a good swordsman, 
 could have had no difficulty in making 
 his way in the best society of London. 
 He, however, suffered in the estimation 
 of those whose virtues were no better, 
 but w r hose manners were ; and he conse 
 quently was shunned by the refined for 
 the brutality of his conduct and the rude 
 ness of his behavior. Yet he has found 
 an apologist, in a fair but frail lady,* with 
 whom Braddock was an intimate. She 
 says, in giving an account of her last in 
 terview with him, on the night before 
 his setting out for America : " Before we 
 parted, the general told me he should 
 never see me more, for he was going 
 with a handful of men to conquer whole 
 nations ; and, to do this, they must cut 
 their way through unknown woods. He 
 produced a map of the country, saying, 
 at the same time, Dear Pop, we are sent 
 like sacrifices to the altar. The event 
 
 * George Anne Bellamy, the actress, from whose Apolo 
 gy for her Life this passage is quoted in the Appendix of 
 Sargent s " History," &c. 
 
 of the expedition too fatally verified the 
 general s expectations. This great man," 
 she adds, " having been often reproached 
 with brutality, I am induced to recite the 
 following little anecdote, which evidently 
 shows the contrary. As AVC were walk 
 ing in the Park one day, we heard a poor 
 fellow w r as to be chastised, when I re 
 quested the general to beg off the offend 
 er. Upon his application to the general 
 officer, whose name was Dury, he asked 
 Braddock how long since he had divest 
 ed himself of brutality and the insolence 
 of his manners. To which the other re 
 plied : You never knew me insolent to 
 my inferiors. It is only to such rude men 
 as yourself that I behave with the spirit 
 which I think they deserve. " 
 
 It was doing the handsome thing for 
 Miss Bellamy, the pretty actress (for she 
 was the fair apologist), to come to the 
 rescue of the fame of Braddock ; but we 
 must not forget that she was a prejudiced 
 party, as the general had been one of her 
 most favored and devoted lovers, had 
 bestowed upon her putative husband the 
 profitable agency of his regiment, and 
 left him by his will his whole property, 
 amounting to something like thirty-five 
 thousand dollars. 
 
 Braddock, as Gumley had said, w T as 
 " a poor dog," and had got so deeply in 
 debt, that he was obliged to leave Eng 
 land. His influential friends, however, 
 secured him an honorable exile, by ob 
 taining for him the rank of colonel in a 
 regiment then at Gibraltar. While there, 
 his old patron, the duke of Cumberland, 
 was mindful of him ; and, upon the ex 
 pedition for America being determined 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 BRADDOCK AS A SOLDIER. 
 
 53 
 
 upon, Braddock was recalled, ele 
 vated to the rank of major-general, 
 made commander-in-chief of all the Brit 
 ish forces on the western continent, and 
 given the command of the troops now 
 ordered there for the especial service we 
 shall recount. 
 
 That Braddock was a good soldier in 
 the European sense, there could be no 
 doubt. He was now advanced in years 
 (having reached threescore), and a vet- 
 eran in service, having served no less 
 than three-and-forty years as an officer 
 in the Guards, during which time he had 
 been engaged in most of the great bat- 
 ties of his country. He was a martinet 
 in discipline, and, however loose in pri 
 vate life, no one could find fault with 
 him for want of strictness in the field or 
 on parade. His regiment was alwaj^s 
 among the most effective in the army, 
 and had under his command gained un 
 dying laurels for its steady behavior and 
 brave bearing in the unfortunate field of 
 
 Fontenoy as well as in the cruel triumphs 
 of Culloden. 
 
 At St. James s park, too, in days of 
 peace and holyday, Braddock s men were 
 marked and admired as among the most 
 orderly and soldierly looking of all the 
 household troops in London. He was 
 just the man to please the duke of Cum 
 berland, who, brought up in the school 
 of the great Frederick, was a devoted 
 believer in the pow r dered, bewigged sol 
 dier and the formal tactics then prevail 
 ing in all the camps of European warfare. 
 Braddock had undoubtedly courage, and 
 had besides a most thorough schooling, 
 under the eye of Cumberland himself, in 
 those very formalities and methods which 
 were thought to be the necessary frame 
 work of all military art. The selection, 
 perhaps, could not have been better, for 
 a regular European campaign ; but how 
 it suited the eccentricities of American 
 warfare, will be shown in the course of 
 our narrative by the result. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Braddock in Council with the Duke of Cumberland. Objects of the Expedition to America. The Pioneer of the Enter 
 prise. Braddock becomes impatient. Sails from Portsmouth, in advance of the Troops. His Companions. The 
 Departure of the Troops English Opinions of the Expedition. Walpole s Gossip. Arrival of Braddock in Vir 
 ginia. Consultation with Governor Dinwiddie, of Virginia. The Arrival of the Troops. A Poetical Welcome. 
 The American Governors in Council. Their Governments recreant to Duty. Braddock storms at American Delin 
 quency. The Little Fire which enkindled the Revolutionary Flame. Fort Du Quesne the Great Object of the Expe 
 dition. The Young Washington is solicited to join. Becomes an Aid-de-Camp of General Braddock. His Associ 
 ates of the Camp. A Storming Quartermaster. Sir John St. Clair raging like a Lion rampant. Pennsylvania back 
 ward in Duty. Benjamin Franklin comes to the Rescue. His Interview with, and Impression upon, the General. 
 His Opinion of the Expedition. His Ruse. Its Success. Braddock s Coach and State. His Triumphal Entrance 
 into Fort Cumberland. 
 
 BRADDOCK had frequent conferences 
 with the ministry, and especially with 
 the duke of Cumberland, who w r as the 
 
 master-spirit of the American enterprise. 
 These resulted in the formation of a plan 
 for the campaign, the objects of which, 
 
r- 
 
 54 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 in accordance with the policy of the gov 
 ernment and the advice of the military 
 authorities, were 
 
 To eject the French from the lands 
 which they held unjustly in the province 
 of Nova Scotia. 
 
 To dislodge them from a fortress which 
 they had erected at Crown Point, on Lake 
 Champlain, within what was claimed as 
 British territory. 
 
 To dispossess them of the fort which 
 they had constructed at Niagara, between 
 Lake Ontario and Lake Erie. 
 
 To drive them from the frontiers of 
 Pennsylvania and Virginia, and recover 
 the valley of the Ohio. 
 
 It was more particularly, however, the 
 last object which was reserved for Brad- 
 dock ; and his instructions were so far 
 specific in this respect, that he was or 
 dered to march as soon as possible after 
 his arrival in America and attack the 
 French fort of Du Quesne, situated on 
 the fork of the Ohio. 
 
 LieutenantrColonel Sir John St. Clair 
 was sent out in advance to Virginia, as 
 deputy quartermaster-general, to obtain 
 every possible information, and to make 
 the preliminary arrangements for the fur 
 therance of the objects of the proposed 
 expedition. 
 
 Braddock himself, soon after his arri 
 val in London, hurried to Cork, where the 
 troops were to embark. He, however, 
 got impatient at the delay in recruiting 
 the soldiers and fitting out the expedi 
 tion, and went to Portsmouth, whence he 
 , soon after sailed. The general was 
 on board the Norwich, in company 
 
 * Life of Washington, by Irving. 
 
 with one of his aids, Captain Robert Orme, 
 and his military secretary, Mr. William 
 Shirley, the son of the governor of Mas 
 sachusetts. Two other vessels, the Cen 
 turion and the Siren, with a small mili 
 tary guard and a company or so of the 
 soldiers, sailed with the Norwich. The 
 transports, with the rest of the troops, 
 the artillery, and supplies, were to follow 
 as soon as ready. 
 
 There was considerable delay in get 
 ting the troops off, notwithstanding they 
 were so few in number ; it having been 
 determined to send out only two regi 
 ments the forty-fourth, with Sir Peter 
 Halket as colonel, and the forty-eighth, 
 Colonel Thomas Dunbar. These were to 
 make up their numbers each to no more 
 than five hundred before leaving, with 
 the intention of adding three hundred by 
 recruits in America. One thousand, there 
 fore, was the whole force of regulars sent 
 out by the government, and these were 
 to form a nucleus about which it was 
 hoped to gather, in the provinces, an ar 
 my of some four thousand. The soldiers 
 were finally recruited ; the stores, artil 
 lery, and ammunition, prepared and put 
 on board ; the whole force embarked ; 
 and the fleet of transports, amounting to 
 more than a dozen, sailed under the 
 convoy of two men-of-war, on the 
 14th of February, three weeks subse 
 quent to the departure of the command 
 ing general. 
 
 The hopes of England were not very 
 sanguine about the success of this expe 
 dition to America, if we can trust what 
 that gossip Walpole wrote : " The French 
 have taken such liberties with some 01 
 
 1755 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 BRADDOCK IN AMERICA. 
 
 our forts that are of great consequence 
 to cover Virginia, Carolina, and Georgia, 
 that we are actually despatching two 
 regiments thither. As the climate and 
 other American circumstances are against 
 these poor men, I pity them, and think 
 them too many if the French mean noth 
 ing further, too few if they do. Indeed, 
 I am one of those who feel less resent 
 ment when we are attacked so far off: I 
 think it an obligation to be eaten the 
 last." 
 
 After a voyage of nearly two months, 
 Braddock arrived in Hampton roads, in 
 Virginia, and proceeded at once to Wil- 
 liamsburg, to join Governor Dinwiddie, 
 and consult with him in regard to the 
 details for carrying out the proposed ex 
 pedition. Sir John St. Clair, the deputy 
 quartermaster-general, and Commodore 
 Keppel, commander of the British fleet, 
 soon after repaired to Williamsburg also. 
 On consultation with these officers, it was 
 determined by Braddock that the troops 
 should disembark at Alexandria. Orders 
 were now sent for the transports, as they 
 should arrive, to sail up to that place. 
 They came in at slow intervals, the last 
 vessel being as late as the 14th of March, 
 and, as was directed, after anchoring in 
 Hampton roads, proceeded up the Poto 
 mac to Alexandria, where the troops dis 
 embarked in fine condition, in spite of 
 the long voyage. 
 
 The colonies hailed this aid from the 
 mother-country with great joy, and gave 
 an enthusiastic welcome, after their pro 
 pitious voyage, to those ships- 
 
 Freighted with wealth, for noble ends designed ; 
 So willed great George, and so the Fates inclined," 
 
 1755, 
 
 as a native poet, in anticipatory poetical 
 enthusiasm of the great event, had writ 
 ten. 
 
 Braddock, soon after the arrival of his 
 troops, had invited the governors of the 
 different British colonies to meet him at 
 Alexandria; and accordingly, on the 14th 
 of April, a great council was held. 
 Here were Robert Dinwiddie, gov 
 ernor of Virginia ; General William Shir 
 ley, governor of Massachusetts ; and here 
 also were the three lieutenantrgovernors, 
 James Delancey,of New York; Sharpe,of 
 Maryland ; and Morris, of Pennsylvania. 
 Braddock the general and Keppel the 
 commodore completed the number of this 
 august council. The various governors 
 were first reminded, by the reading of 
 the orders of the home government, of 
 the duty of their several provinces to 
 raise a colonial revenue, and make pro 
 vision for the expenses of the expedition. 
 They all, however, without an exception, 
 had a most unsatisfactory account to give 
 of their endeavors to fulfil the obligations 
 that had been imposed upon them. Their 
 several assemblies had been diligently 
 urged, but had refused to vote the tax 
 necessary to establish the fund; and the 
 governors now convened declared unani 
 mously that " such a fund can never be 
 established in the colonies without the 
 aid of Parliament. Having found it im 
 practicable to obtain in their respective 
 governments the proportion expected by 
 his majesty towards defraying the ex 
 penses of his service in North America, 
 they are unanimously of opinion that it 
 should be proposed to his majesty s min 
 isters to find out some method of com- 
 
56 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 pelling them to do it, and of assessing 
 the several governments in proportion 
 to their respective abilities." 
 
 Braddock s arbitrary spirit was chafed 
 by this colonial recreancy, and he stormed 
 loudly, with anger, that " no such fund 
 had been yet established." He sent the 
 resolves of the council to the home gov 
 ernment, accompanying them with a let 
 ter from himself, in which he fiercely com 
 plained of the neglect of their duty by 
 the colonies, and urged the necessity of 
 compelling them, by taxation, to do it 
 effectually for the future. Here was the 
 little fire by which the great flame of 
 revolution was kindled, and which final 
 ly, after a period of unsettled, nebulous 
 light, concentrated in the glorious stars 
 of American Independence. 
 
 The opinion of the governors in council 
 in regard to some other matters, showed 
 a wiser discretion. They proposed that 
 New York should be the point from which 
 the movements of the campaign should 
 be directed. Braddock would not or could 
 not listen to such suggestions. It was sup 
 posed that he had received positive or 
 ders to march upon Fort Du Quesne, and 
 that he was thus obliged to carry on the 
 expedition across the Alleghanies, with 
 all the disadvantages of a wild country. 
 It would have been wiser, doubtless, to 
 have attacked the French settlements in 
 Canada, as they could be reached by sea, 
 and the land-forces might have been sus 
 tained by a naval squadron. Fort Du 
 Quesne, however, was the point proposed, 
 and against this Braddock determined to 
 lead his forces. The two battalions raised 
 and commanded by Governor Shirley 
 
 and Sir William Pepperell, the hero of 
 Louisburg, were directed upon Niagara; 
 General Johnson was ordered to muster 
 his Indians for an attack upon Crown 
 Point, at Lake Cham plain; and the Brii> 
 ish colonel Monckton, with the provincial 
 colonel Winslow, were sent to do service 
 against the French in the bay of Fundy. 
 
 Sir John St. Clair had succeeded in ob 
 taining the Virginian recruits before the 
 arrival of the British troops, and they 
 now, on Braddock s men landing, pre 
 pared to join them. They were, hoAvev- 
 er, taken hold of at once, for drill, by an 
 ensign of the forty-fourth, who had been 
 ordered by the general " to make them 
 as like soldiers as possible." 
 
 There was one greater than all the 
 rest who at this time offered himself as a 
 volunteer, in a cause in which his beloved 
 Virginia was so deeply concerned. This 
 was Washington. " The din and stir of 
 warlike preparation," says Irving, "dis 
 turbed the quiet of Mount Vernon. Wash 
 ington looked down from his rural retreat 
 upon the ships-of-war and transports, as 
 they passed up the Potomac, Avith the ar 
 ray of arms gleaming along their decks. 
 The booming of cannon echoed among 
 his groves. Alexandria Avas but a feAv 
 miles distant. Occasionally he mounted 
 his horse and rode to that place ; it Avas 
 like a garrisoned toAA r n, teeming Avith 
 troops, and resounding with the drum 
 and fife. A brilliant campaign AA r as about 
 to open, under the auspices of an expe 
 rienced general, and Avith all the means 
 and appurtenances of European Avarfare. 
 HOAV different from the starveling expe 
 ditions he had hitherto been doomed to 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 INVITATION TO WASHINGTON. 
 
 57 
 
 conduct ! What an opportunity to efface 
 the memory of his recent disaster ! All 
 his thoughts of rural life were put to 
 llight. The military part of his charac 
 ter was again in the ascendant ; his great 
 desire was to join the expedition as a 
 volunteer." 
 
 When General Braddock heard of this 
 desire on the part of young Washington, 
 and learned who he was his high social 
 position in Virginia, his great personal 
 worth, and the experience he had already 
 had in border warfare he invited him 
 to become one of his aids. This is the 
 letter bearing the invitation: 
 
 " WILLIAMSBURG, 2d March, 1755. 
 
 "Sin: The general, having been in 
 formed that you expressed some desire 
 to make the campaign, but that you de 
 clined it upon some disagreeableness that 
 you thought might arise from the regu 
 lations of command, has ordered me to 
 acquaint you that he will be very glad 
 of your company in his family, by which 
 all inconveniences of that kind will be 
 obviated. 
 
 "I shall think myself very happy to 
 form an acquaintance with a person so 
 universally esteemed, and shall use ev 
 ery opportunity of assuring you how 
 much I am, sir, your most obedient ser 
 vant, 
 
 " ROBERT ORME, Aid-de- Camp" 
 
 Orme was a young lieutenant of the 
 Guards, of a good English family, which 
 had supplied many a brave soldier for 
 the service of their king. He had now 
 nominally the rank of captain, and, being 
 a great favorite of Braddock, had been 
 
 appointed by him one of his aids-de-camp. 
 He was a spirited, well-educated, and 
 high-bred young fellow, and commended 
 himself greatly to the friendship of Wash 
 ington, with whom during the campaign 
 he became very intimate. 
 
 The offer of Braddock was gladly ac 
 cepted by Washington ; and, in spite of 
 his mother s entreaties, and all the house 
 hold interests of Mount Vernon which 
 had gathered about him during his retire 
 ment, he determined, as soon as he could 
 settle his affairs at home, to join the ex 
 pedition. He was greatly gratified at 
 the appointment he had received. He 
 was fond of a military life, and had only 
 been prevented from taking a position, 
 as an officer in the Virginian troops, in 
 consequence of the contempt of those 
 bearing colonial commissions implied by 
 a parliamentary act, which gave all the 
 British officers the precedence of them 
 in rank and pay. Washington s pride, as 
 a Virginian gentleman, revolted at this, 
 and naturally ; for he might thus, at any 
 moment, be placed in an inferior position 
 to some ignorant, low-bred person, sud 
 denly elevated above him by a commis 
 sion which had been either bought for 
 money or truckled for by fawning servil 
 ity. The young Washington had conse 
 quently smothered all his burning ardor 
 for military glory, rather than sacrifice 
 his own self-respect. 
 
 The offer of Braddock now came to 
 give him, what he so much desired, an 
 opportunity for honorable service. The 
 position as aid-de-camp, which he had ac 
 cepted, gave him rank among the high 
 est of his years, and was one of those 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART i. 
 
 gentlemanly offices for there was no 
 pay that particularly commended it 
 self to a disinterested Virginian cavalier. 
 There was the further advantage that, 
 as aid-de-camp, Washington would have 
 the best opportunity of improving him 
 self, and that this was a great object with 
 him he confesses in writing to Orme : " I 
 wish earnestly to obtain some knowledge 
 in the military profession ; and believing 
 a more favorable opportunity can not of 
 fer than to serve under a gentleman of 
 General Braddock s abilities and experi 
 ence, it does, you may reasonably sup 
 pose, not a little influence my choice." 
 
 Washington did not join the army for 
 several weeks after-receiving his commis 
 sion. When he presented himself he was 
 warmly welcomed by the general, and 
 received into the intimate friendship of 
 Braddock s two aids-de-camp and secreta 
 ry, Orme, Morris, and Shirley, who were 
 of about the same age as the young Vir 
 ginian. 
 
 While the congress of governors was 
 being held at Alexandria, Sir John St. 
 Clair, the deputy quartermaster-general, 
 was sent again along the proposed route 
 of the army, to look up the contractors, 
 and find out how far they had kept their 
 engagements. He soon discovered that 
 their promises, of which so favorable an 
 account had been reported to Braddock, 
 were far from being fulfilled. The road 
 that was to have been made by Pennsyl 
 vania, had not yet been begun ; and there 
 was no sign of the provisions required of 
 that province. 
 
 Sir John became highly indignant at 
 this remissness, and stormed like a lion 
 
 rampant. He declared to the Pennsylva 
 nia commissioners that, instead of march 
 ing to the Ohio, he would in nine days 
 march the army into Cumberland county 
 to cut the roads, press horses and wag 
 ons ; that he would not suffer a soldier 
 to handle an axe, but by fire and sword 
 oblige the inhabitants to do it; and to 
 take away to the Ohio every man that 
 refused, as he had some of the Virgin 
 ians. He would kill all kind of cattle, 
 and carry away the horses, and burn the 
 houses. If the French defeated the troops 
 by the delays of the province, he would 
 with his sword drawn pass through it, 
 and treat the inhabitants as a parcel of 
 traitors to his master. He would write 
 to England immediately by a man-of-war, 
 shake the proprietorship of Mr. Penn, and 
 represent Pennsylvania as a disaffected 
 province. He would not stop to impress 
 the assembly ; his hands were not tied, 
 Sir John said, and they should find it out. 
 He did not value a d , the wrothy bar 
 onet declared, what the governor or as 
 sembly did or resolved, as they were dil 
 atory, and had retarded the march of the 
 army, and that the commissioners might 
 tell them so ; and, moreover, go to the 
 general if they pleased, who, if they did, 
 would give them ten bad words for one 
 he gave ! He (Sir John) would do their 
 duty himself, and not trust to them ; but 
 he declared with an oath that they should 
 have to pay dearly for it ? and " by G-d" 
 he was in earnest ! Even Braddock, as 
 little mealy-mouthed as he was, could not 
 approve St. Glair s violence, and, on its 
 being reported, rebuked him severely. 
 It seemed not to have been without its 
 
COLONIAL. J 
 
 SCARCITY OF SUPPLIES. 
 
 59 
 
 effect, however, upon the Pennsylvani- 
 ans, who set about the road, though dil 
 atorily, and did not make much prog 
 ress in sending forward the promised 
 supplies. 
 
 Other provinces were equally back 
 ward with Pennsylvania. Only twenty 
 wagons, two hundred horses, and some 
 utterly worthless provisions, came in, out 
 of the twenty-five hundred horses, two 
 hundred and fifty wagons, and eleven 
 hundred head of cattle, which had been 
 promised by Maryland. Braddock was 
 thus detained at Alexandria, with the ar 
 tillery and military stores, for want of 
 means to convey them. He finally re 
 solved to proceed to Fredericktown, in 
 Maryland, to endeavor to hasten the levy 
 of horses and wagons. He left behind 
 him, at Alexandria, four companies of the 
 forty-fourth regiment, under the com 
 mand of Lieutenant-Colonel Gage, who 
 was ordered to forward the artillery, am 
 munition, and stores, as means should ar 
 rive for their conveyance. The main 
 body of the troops were at Frederick- 
 town, where the general now joined them. 
 The Virginian regiments had, however, 
 been ordered to Winchester, with the ex 
 ception of the rangers, sent to build stock 
 ade forts on Greenbrier river, under Cap 
 tain Lewis, subsequently, in our revolu 
 tionary struggle, a brigadier-general, and 
 an especial favorite with Washington for 
 his soldierly qualities. Six companies 
 of the forty-fourth regulars soon after 
 moved on also, under the command of 
 Sir Peter Halket, to Winchester, where 
 they were ordered to remain, with the 
 Virginians, until the road was in proper 
 
 condition, and then to march to Fort 
 Cumberland. 
 
 Commodore Keppel had also detached 
 a number of seamen from his ships, who 
 by their knowledge of the use of ropes 
 and tackle, and practice in rowing and 
 hauling, might assist in ferrying the ar 
 my over the rivers, making the bridges, 
 and moving the heavy artillery up and 
 down the acclivities of the steep roads. 
 This naval detachment awaited at Alex 
 andria the movements of the companies 
 left there, to come on with the guns and 
 military stores. 
 
 When Braddock reached Frederick- 
 town, he found the troops in great want 
 of provisions, there being no cattle laid in 
 as yet. He applied to Governor Sharpe, 
 of Maryland, in the emergency ; but so 
 little influence had this official in his own 
 province, that he could not get either 
 wagons or provisions. The general sent 
 round the country, however, and succeed 
 ed in purchasing a few head of cattle. 
 While Braddock was thus harassed, and 
 his movements almost entirely stopped, 
 Benjamin Franklin fortunately arrived at 
 Fredericktown. The nominal purpose of 
 his visit, as he was then at the head of 
 the colonial postoffice department, was 
 to make suitable provision with Brad- 
 dock for the conveyance of despatches 
 to and from the provincial governments. 
 Franklin s real object, however, was un 
 doubtedly to acquaint himself with the 
 details of the expedition, and to reinstate 
 if possible, his own province of Pennsyl 
 vania in the good opinion of the army. 
 
 On Franklin s arrival in Fredericktown, 
 Braddock expressed a particular desire 
 
GO 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 ART T 
 
 to see him, and, from the first interview, 
 was greatly impressed with the superior 
 sagacity of his visiter, and solicited his 
 advice. Franklin now became a daily 
 guest at Braddock s table, and has left in 
 his autobiography an interesting record 
 of his occasional talk with the general : 
 " One day, in conversation with him," 
 says Franklin, " he was giving me some 
 account of his intended progress. After 
 taking Fort Du Quesne, said he, I am 
 to proceed to Frontenac, if the season 
 will allow time ; and I suppose it will, for 
 Du Quesne can hardly detain me above 
 three or four days : and then I can see 
 nothing that can obstruct my march to 
 Niagara. 
 
 " Having before revolved in my mind," 
 Franklin observes, " the long line his ar 
 my must make in their march by a very 
 narrow road, to be cut for them through 
 the woods and bushes, and also what I 
 had heard of a former defeat of fifteen 
 hundred French, who had invaded the 
 Illinois country, I had conceived some 
 doubts and some fears for the event of 
 this campaign ; but I ventured only to 
 say : * To be sure, sir, if you arrive well 
 before Du Quesne with these fine troops, 
 so well provided with artillery, the fort, 
 though completely fortified, and assisted 
 with a very strong garrison, can proba 
 bly make but a short resistance. The 
 only danger I apprehend of obstruction 
 to your march, is from the ambuscades 
 of the Indians, who, by constant practice, 
 are dexterous in laying and executing 
 them ; and the slender line, nearly four 
 miles long, which your army must make, 
 may expose it to be attacked by surprise 
 
 on its flanks, and to be cut like thread 
 into several pieces, which from their dis 
 tance can not come up in time to support 
 one another. 
 
 " He smiled at my ignorance, and re 
 plied : These savages may indeed be a 
 formidable enemy to raw American mili 
 tia, but upon the king s regular and dis 
 ciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they 
 should make an impression. I was con 
 scious," adds Franklin, " of an impropri 
 ety in my disputing with a military man 
 in matters of his profession, and said no 
 more." 
 
 This was just the advice wanted, and 
 the general, with his wrong-headed ob 
 stinacy and old-fashioned camp prejudice, 
 was just the man to disregard it. In an 
 other matter, however, where his milita 
 ry self-conceit did not interfere, the gen 
 eral listened to Franklin, and, as we shall 
 see, to advantage. " It is a pity the troops 
 had not landed in Pennsylvania, where 
 every farmer has his wagon," remarked 
 Franklin. " Then, sir," answered Brad- 
 dock, " you, who are a man of interest 
 there, can probably procure them for me, 
 and I beg you will." 
 
 Franklin undertook to obtain at once 
 what was wanted, and was as good as his 
 promise. A paper being drawn up by 
 the general, giving Franklin due authori 
 ty to hire for the use of the army, fifteen 
 hundred saddle or pack horses, and one 
 hundred and fifty wagons, to be drawn 
 by four horses each, that man, so prompt 
 and full of resource, had them all in read 
 iness to send in less than a fortnight. 
 The means he adopted were characteris 
 tic of Franklin s shrewd knowledge of 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 FRANKLIN TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 61 
 
 mankind, and his business tact. He had 
 a handbill printed, and sent everywhere 
 about the country. In this document 
 Franklin shrewdly appealed to the fears 
 of the people, by reminding them that 
 " it was proposed to send an armed force 
 immediately into the various counties, to 
 seize as many of the best carriages and 
 horses as should be wanted, and compel 
 as many persons into the service as 
 should be necessary to drive and take 
 care of them." "I apprehended," says 
 Franklin, " that the progress of a body 
 of soldiers through these counties on 
 such an occasion, especially considering 
 the temper they are in and their resent 
 ment against us, would be attended with 
 many and great inconveniences to the in 
 habitants ; and therefore more willingly 
 undertook the trouble of trying first what 
 might be done by fair and equitable 
 means." He concluded w.ith the most 
 telling point when he said, " If this meth 
 od of obtaining the wagons and horses 
 is not likely to succeed, I am obliged to 
 send word to the general in fourteen 
 days ; and I suppose Sir John St. Clair, 
 the hussar, with a body of soldiers, will 
 immediately enter the province, of which 
 I shall be sorry to hear, because, / am, 
 very sincerely and truly, your friend and ivell- 
 ivisher, B. FRANKLIN." 
 
 The inflammatory Sir John had already 
 made himself, by his explosive wrath on 
 former occasions, sufficiently formidable 
 to those who had been exposed to it; 
 but this threatening aspect of him as 
 " the hussar," was calculated to make him 
 still more terrific, particularly to the Ger 
 man farmers of Pennsylvania, who re 
 
 tained a very lively dread of the summa 
 ry proceedings of the hussars of their 
 fatherland. This home-thrust had such 
 an astonishing effect, that the Germans, 
 from being the most remiss- before, sud 
 denly became the most forward, and con 
 tributed more than their share of the re 
 quired supplies. 
 
 Braddock was so gratified with the 
 success of Franklin s exertions, that, in 
 his despatches to the British government, 
 he said emphatically it was almost the 
 first instance of integrity, address, and 
 ability, that he had met with in all the 
 provinces. 
 
 Franklin volunteered to do another 
 act of gracious service to the army, and 
 did it with the same promptitude. While 
 at Fredericktown, he was supping with 
 Colonel D unbar, the second in command, 
 when that officer remarked that his sub 
 alterns were hard put to it, with their 
 small pay and the dearness of everything 
 on the route of an army on the march, 
 to provide themselves with what was ne 
 cessary to their comfort. Franklin, on 
 his return to Philadelphia, bore this in 
 mind, and succeeded in squeezing out of 
 the assembly sufficient money to buy a 
 small stock of luxuries for each of the 
 subalterns, of whom there were a score, 
 under Dunbar and Sir Peter ILilket. 
 Packages were accordingly made up, con 
 taining tea, good butter, some dozens of 
 old Madeira, a couple of gallons of Ja 
 maica, six dried tongues, and various 
 smaller comforts for the inner man, and 
 despatched. These timely supplies were 
 very welcome, and the officers who re 
 ceived them gratefully returned their 
 
r: 
 
 62 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 hearty thanks to those who " had been 
 so good as to think of them in so genteel 
 a manner." 
 
 The general, having sent forward the 
 forty-eighth regiment under Colonel Dun- 
 bar, soon after followed, accom 
 panied by his aids-de-camp and 
 secretary. Braddock had purchased a 
 coach from Governor Sharpe,of Maryland, 
 in which he now travelled, with consid 
 erable state, having, as he dashed along, 
 
 April 30. 
 
 a bodyguard of lightrhorse, with his staff 
 at their head, galloping on either side. 
 In this style the general reached Win 
 chester, and, not finding the Indians he 
 expected there, started for Fort Cumber 
 land. Coming up with the forty-fourth 
 regiment, under Dunbar, the general en 
 tered, with the troops following him, and 
 their drums beating "The Grenadiers 
 March ;" and, on his arrival, was saluted 
 with a volley of seventeen guns. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The Hard March to Fort Cumberland. The General swears terribly. Delay. What is thought of it in England. Am 
 val of the Artillery. Their Hard Experience by the Route. A Rattlesnake Colonel. Braddock s Force smaller than 
 expected. British Contempt of Provincial Troops. The Grand Display of Braddock s Camp. Order. Exercises. 
 Amusements. Death. Good Cooks and Good Eating at Headquarters. Good Morals. Arrival of Indians. While 
 Thunder and his Daughter Bright Lightning. Entertainment of the Savages. " Drams round." The Indians disaf 
 fected. The Indian Women the Cause of the Trouble. Departure of the Indians. An Occasional Delaware shows 
 Himself. Delawares suspected of Villany. Captain Jack and his Indian-Killers. The Captain s History. Brad- 
 dock s Contempt. The Consequences. Captain Jack goes off in a Huff, and all his Indian-Killers with him. Arri 
 val of Horses and Wagons sent by Franklin. First Appearance of Daniel Morgan on the Field of History. Daniel 
 and the British Officer. No Flour and Beef. A Detachment of Cavalry and Wagons ordered out for Supplies. 
 Braddock in a Rage. The March begun. The Hard Road. Five Miles in Two Days. Lightening the March. 
 Women and Baggage sent back to the Fort. Shades of Death. Arrival at Little Meadows. 
 
 THE army had had a tedious march to 
 Will s creek, or Fort Cumberland, as it 
 was now called, in honor of the British 
 prince. The general himself, having had 
 a good opportunity of seeing the absurdi 
 ty of the route, and, as Washington writes, 
 " of damning it very heartily," was deter 
 mined now to abandon his fine coach and 
 his stately progress, and submit himself 
 to the hard requirements of the wild 
 country in which he had begun his cam 
 paign. 
 
 Twenty-seven days had been already 
 consumed in the march, and there was 
 every prospect of a long detention now 
 
 at Fort Cumberland. The British min 
 isters, when they heard of the delays, 
 were greatly vexed. " The duke of Cum 
 berland," says Walpole, " who is now the 
 soul of the regency, is much dissatisfied 
 at the slowness of General Braddock, who 
 does not march as if he was at all impa 
 tient to be scalped. It is said for him that 
 he has had bad guides, that the roads 
 are exceedingly difficult, and that it was 
 necessary to drag as much artillery as he 
 
 does This is not the first time," adds 
 
 the malevolent gossip, " that the duke 
 has found that brutality did not neces 
 sarily constitute a general." 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 CAMP AT FORT CUMBERLAND. 
 
 63 
 
 Braddock, however, was not to blame 
 for these delays, which fretted his impet 
 uous temper as much as they could pos 
 sibly have annoyed his patron the duke of 
 Cumberland. The general had met with 
 disappointment at every point and turn. 
 Here at the fort, where he had been prom 
 ised the greatest plenty of all kinds of 
 provisions, none that were fresh could be 
 obtained. The men had already marched 
 through an uninhabited wilderness, with 
 out anything but salted meat, and there 
 was every reason to fear that their health 
 would suffer in consequence. The gen 
 eral did all in his power to remedy these 
 deficiencies by offering large rewards and 
 lending money out of his own pocket to 
 several people, in order to enable them 
 to provide the camp. By these means 
 some supplies were procured, but not in 
 sufficient abundance to satisfy their wants. 
 
 The artillery, after being; de- 
 May 20, J 
 
 tamed at Alexandria a whole 
 
 fortnight, awaiting wagons and horses, 
 now came in, under the command of 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Gage. The party, 
 which was accompanied by the naval de 
 tachment of seamen, had suffered greatly 
 on the route. They had been often with 
 out provisions for themselves and fodder 
 for their horses. The men, worn out with 
 hauling the guns over "prodigious mount 
 ains," and exposed to the fitful changes 
 of the spring weather, now suffering from 
 the sultry heat and again from the damp 
 cold and heavy dews, became ill, and 
 some so disabled, that they were obliged 
 to be left on the route. They found lit 
 tle encouragement from the various semi- 
 barbarous frontiersmen at whose losr- 
 
 houses and forts they stopped on their 
 march. There was " one Cressop, a rattle 
 snake colonel and a d d rascal," whom 
 
 they had a particular reason for remem 
 bering for his roguery and ill service. 
 
 The forces were now all collected at 
 Fort Cumberland. There were the two 
 regiments sent out from England, com 
 posed of a few hundred more than their 
 original strength of a thousand, but not 
 up to their full complement of fifteen 
 hundred, as the expected recruits from 
 Maryland and Virginia had not been ob 
 tained. There was the troop of Virginia 
 light>horse ; the two independent compa 
 nies from New York, under Captain Ho 
 ratio Gates ; two companies of " hatchet- 
 men," or pioneers ; a company of guides ; 
 the detachment of sailors, and a few In 
 dians, making in all about two thousand 
 men. 
 
 The British officers, with their set no 
 tions about military order and appear 
 ance, were not very well pleased with the 
 looks of the provincials. They had been 
 submitted to a systematic drill. Ensign 
 Allen, their drill-master, "had taken great 
 pains with them, and they performed 
 their evolutions and firings as well as 
 could be expected ; but their languid, 
 spiritless, and unsoldier-like appearance, 
 considered with the lowness and igno 
 rance of most of their officers, gave little 
 hopes of their future good behavior." 
 Their " future good behavior," however, 
 was such as to put to the blush the boast 
 ed superiority of the regulars, and to 
 prove how little they deserved this con 
 tempt, which was common to British gen 
 eral and British subaltern. 
 
G4 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 Braddock shared in this depreciation 
 of the provincial soldier, and wrote : "The 
 American troops have little courage or 
 good will. I expect from them almost 
 no military service, though I have em 
 ployed the best officers to drill them." 
 lie became so rude in his denunciations 
 of the provincials, that Washington s pa 
 triotism was wounded, and he warmly 
 took up the defence of his countrymen. 
 He, however, gave up the general, as of 
 impracticable obstinacy and prejudice, 
 and as one who was " incapable of argu 
 ing without warmth, or giving up any 
 point he had asserted, be it ever so incom 
 patible with reason or common sense." 
 
 Doubtless the provincial troops did ap 
 pear, during these comparatively holyday 
 tunes at Fort Cumberland, to great dis 
 advantage with the British regulars. Du 
 ring the compulsory detention here, Brad- 
 dock had a fine opportunity of displaying 
 some of his London-park tactics, and even 
 Washington was struck with admiration 
 at the effective show and strict discipline 
 of the British grenadiers. The general 
 himself kept up considerable state. He 
 held a daily levee at his tent every morn 
 ing from ten to eleven o clock, and ex 
 pected his. various officers to present 
 themselves in full uniform. The camp 
 was arranged on the most approved prin 
 ciples of military art, and the strictest 
 system and most regular order every 
 where established. The troops were dai 
 ly exercised and submitted to the seve 
 rest discipline. None of the usual cere 
 monies were omitted, but all as strictly 
 celebrated as if the troops had been sta 
 tioned under the Tower-guns at London, 
 
 instead of being encamped in a wilder 
 ness. 
 
 A Cap tain Bromley dies, and his funeral 
 takes place, with every detail of military 
 order and respect, notwithstanding the 
 discomforts of the camp on "an exces 
 sively hot day." A captain s guard march 
 ed before the corpse, with the captain of 
 it in the rear, the firelocks reversed, and 
 the drums beating "The Dead March." 
 On coming near the grave, the guard 
 formed two lines, facing each other, rest 
 ing OR their arms with the muzzles down 
 ward, and leaning on the butts of their 
 muskets. The body, with the sword and 
 sash of the dead captain on the coffin, 
 was now carried between the two lines 
 of soldiers, and followed by the officers, 
 walking two and two. The chaplain, a 
 Mr. Philip Hughes, having read the ser 
 vice, the guard fired three volleys over 
 the grave, and marched back to the 
 
 o 
 
 camp. 
 
 There was, however, with all this strict- 
 ness of discipline, an effort made to keep 
 up the spirits of the camp by occasional 
 amusements. The young officers got up 
 races and hunting-parties ; and the gen 
 eral, who had his cooks from Europe, and 
 prided himself upon his kitchen, gave fre 
 quent invitations to dinner. There was, 
 however, a strict attention paid to the 
 morals of the troops. No sutler was al 
 lowed to sell more than one gill of spirits 
 a day to each man, and this was to be 
 diluted with three gills of water; and 
 every soldier found drunk was sent im 
 mediately to the guardhouse, and when 
 sober, next morning, received two hun 
 dred lashes. Theft was punished with 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 INDIAN CHIEFS AND BEAUTIES. 
 
 6f> 
 
 death. Gambling was prohibited to the 
 non-commissioned officer and common 
 soldier, under a penalty of three hundred 
 lashes; and all lookers-on were deemed 
 principals, and punished the same. 
 
 Of all the Indians who had been prom 
 ised, only thirty as yet had arrived at the 
 fort. These were some chiefs and war 
 riors belonging to the Six Nations. There 
 was Monicotoha, the wise man, whose 
 duty it was to do all the speaking ; White 
 Thunder, who had " a daughter called 
 Bright Lightning ;" he it was who had 
 charge of the wampum-belts ; and there 
 were also Silver-Heels and Great Tree, 
 all potent men in their various tribes. 
 As soon as they arrived, the general re 
 ceived them at his tent, surrounded by 
 all his officers in full uniform, and with 
 his guard drawn up and presenting arms. 
 The interpreter was instructed to tell 
 the assembled chiefs that their brothers 
 the English, who were their old friends, 
 were come to assure them that every 
 misunderstanding that had been in for 
 mer times should now be buried under 
 that great mountain, which was throw 
 ing its shadow over the camp. A belt 
 of wampum was then passed, with still 
 further assurances of friendship, and the 
 whole concluded with " the ceremony of 
 drams round." 
 
 Again, on the next day, the general 
 had another reception of his Indian 
 friends, when he expressed his great sor 
 row at the death of the half-king, old 
 Tanacharisson, Washington s capricious 
 friend, and his desire that they should 
 take up the hatchet for the great king of 
 England, their father, against the French. 
 9 
 
 Presents of rings, beads, knives, and paint, 
 being distributed, the Indians went of^ 
 greatly rejoicing, and, to "show they were 
 pleased, made a most horrible noise, dan 
 cing all night." 
 
 " For a time all went well," says Wash 
 ington Irving, whose description of the 
 issue we borrow; for when he once -gets 
 upon his favorite subject of the Indians, 
 his narrative becomes so charmingly pic 
 turesque and humorous, that we listen to 
 it with such delight as not to care to in 
 vestigate its accuracy. "The Indians 
 had their separate camp," writes Irving, 
 " where they passed half the night, sing 
 ing, dancing, and howling. The British 
 were amused by their strange ceremonies, 
 their savage antics, and savage decora 
 tions. The Indians, on the other hand, 
 loitered by day about the English camp, 
 fiercely painted and arrayed, gazing with 
 silent admiration at the parade of the 
 troops, their marchings and evolutions ; 
 and delighted with the horse-races, with 
 which the young officers recreated them 
 selves. 
 
 " Unluckily, the warriors had brought 
 their families with them to Will s creek, 
 and the women were even fonder than 
 the men of loitering about the British 
 camp. They were not destitute of at 
 tractions, for the young squaws resemble 
 the gipsies, having seductive forms, small 
 hands and feet, and soft voices. Among 
 those who visited the camp was one who 
 no doubt passed for an Indian princess. 
 She was the daughter of the sachem, 
 White Thunder, and bore the dazzling 
 name of Bright Lightning. The charms 
 of these wild-wood beauties were soon 
 
66 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 acknowledged. The squaws/ writes Sec 
 retary Peters, bring in money plenty; 
 the officers are scandalously fond of them. 
 
 "The jealousy of the warriors was 
 aroused ; some of them became furious. 
 To prevent discord, the squaws w r ere for 
 bidden to come into the British camp. 
 This did not prevent their being sought 
 elseAvhere. It was ultimately found ne 
 cessary, for the sake of quiet, to send 
 Bright Lightning, with all the other wo 
 men and children, back to Aughquick. 
 White Thunder and several of the war 
 riors accompanied them for their protec 
 tion." 
 
 The Indians, for some reason or other, 
 never returned with their warriors in 
 such numbers as they had promised. 
 Some have blamed the general, saying 
 that he underrated their services. It is 
 probable, with his contempt for every 
 thing but " regular" warfare, he did ; but, 
 at the same time, he seems to have treat 
 ed his savage visitors always with great 
 consideration. Franklin says, " He slight 
 ed or neglected them, and they gradually 
 left him, although they might have been 
 of great use to his army as guides or 
 scouts, if he had treated them kindly." 
 It was not, however, so much the fault 
 of the general, as the treacherous char 
 acter of the people he had to deal with. 
 Some of the Indians evidently were act 
 ing faithlessly from the beginning, and 
 only coquetting with the British, to ob 
 tain gifts, or aAvaiting the result of the 
 struggle with the French, in order to 
 give in their adherence to the stronger. 
 
 Delaware warriors were, almost daily, 
 coming into the camp, with offers of ser 
 
 vice, and pretended information of the 
 enemy. The British officers were from 
 the beginning suspicious; and the out 
 spoken sailor, who has left a journal of 
 the expedition, says, " These people [the 
 Delawares] are villains, and always side 
 with the strongest." This he says just 
 after some of them had come into the 
 camp and told the general that they 
 would return home, collect their warriors, 
 and meet him on their march. Another 
 Delaware turns up again, with some du 
 bious information about Fort Du Quesne, 
 when our sailor declares, " I believe this 
 fellow is a villain, as he is a Delaware, 
 who never were our friends." Whatever 
 may have been the cause, Braddock had 
 never at any time over half a hundred 
 Indians with him, and of these only eight 
 were left at the close of the expedition. 
 The general, however, was more to 
 blame for another loss, that of Captain 
 Jack and his band of "Indian-killers." 
 This man was an early settler on the 
 frontiers of Pennsylvania, where with his 
 family he lived the life of an occasional 
 hunter and farmer. During the season 
 for game, he was abroad in the forest- 
 wilderness, with his gun upon his shoul 
 der, and in his leathern suit, engaged in 
 the chase for deer, the bear, and the fox. 
 He thus supplied his family with wild 
 meat, and gathered skins for barter at 
 the various trading-posts with the fur- 
 dealers, who supplied him in exchange 
 with guns, ammunition, Jamaica spirits, 
 and articles of food and clothing required 
 by himself and family. When not occu 
 pied in the chase, he busied himself in 
 cultivating the patch of cleared ground 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 CAPTAIN JACK. 
 
 G7 
 
 which surrounded his rude log-house, and 
 planting it with potatoes and Indian corn. 
 Though roughened by the wild life he 
 led on the frontier, he had taken to him 
 self a wife, who had borne him several 
 little ones, and his independent and some 
 what reckless disposition was thus still in 
 subjection to the ties of civilization. 
 
 One day, the hunter returns, loaded 
 with game, in eager expectation of a 
 warm welcome from wife and children, 
 when, as he reaches the familiar spot of 
 his home, he finds his log-house burned 
 to the ground, and his family lying dead 
 and mangled amid the ashes ! This cruel 
 work he knew at once to have been that 
 of the ruthless savage. The rude ele 
 ments of the man s character now swelled 
 up with a violence that overmastered all 
 the gentler emotions, Avhich were once, 
 but alas ! no longer called forth, at the 
 soft entreaty of wife and child. He 
 swore revenge against the whole race of 
 Indians ; and, gathering about him other 
 frontiersmen, broken loose like himself 
 from the bonds of kindred and civilized 
 life, he commenced a career of such fierce 
 onslaught upon his savage enemies, that 
 "The Black Hunter of the Forest" for 
 thus he was called, from the swarthiness 
 of his visage was a terror from the 
 northern lakes to the Chesapeake. 
 
 Such was the Captain Jack, who with 
 his men had now offered himself to Brad- 
 dock, and been rejected, because forsooth 
 the British guardsman would not bate a 
 jot of his Hyde-park rules of discipline, 
 even in the wilderness ! Jack had made 
 it a condition of his services that he and 
 his men should not be subjected to the 
 
 May 20, 
 
 routine of military discipline. Braddock, 
 with an absurd obstinacy, refused compli 
 ance. The captain and his "Indian-kil 
 lers" moodily departed. The general 
 made a great mistake. These bold woods 
 men, familiar as they were with the wild 
 life of the borders, and the habits of the 
 Indians whom they even resembled in 
 appearance, their faces being blackened 
 by exposure to sun and weather, and 
 their garb being of the rude Indian ma 
 terial and make would have been the 
 best force to act as guides through the 
 forest, and as a protection against the 
 chances of a savage ambuscade. 
 
 The horses and wagons which, as will 
 be recollected, Franklin had undertaken 
 to supply, and had so promptly 
 got ready, now reached the camp, 
 after considerable detention on the rough 
 roads. There came with the wagons a 
 remarkable man, of whom we shall hear 
 more in the progress of our history of 
 the battles of America,. This was Daniel 
 Morgan, of Pennsylvania. Living a some 
 what reckless and dissipated life, but be 
 ing sufficiently well to do in the world 
 as to own a wagon and horses, he had 
 joined the expedition. He was a person 
 of humble position, but of high spirit; 
 and had hardly started in this new enter 
 prise, when an officer, taking advantage 
 of the former, had an opportunity of find^ 
 ing out the latter. Daniel, being behind 
 time one day with his horses, was severe 
 ly reprimanded by the military gentle 
 man in command, to whom he answered 
 in terms not usually addressed in the Brit 
 ish army to a superior. The officer drew 
 his sword. Daniel brandished his whip. 
 
68 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 The officer made a thrust. Daniel knock 
 ed the weapon out of his hand, and lashed 
 him with his w T hip. The teamster was 
 accordingly arrested and punished. Five 
 hundred lashes was the sentence ; but, as 
 Daniel fainted after the first four hun 
 dred and fifty, the last half-hundred were 
 remitted. Daniel has reported that the 
 officer subsequently acknowledged that 
 the fault was his own, and handsomely 
 apologized. 
 
 Although the wagons and horses had 
 arrived, they did not bring with them the 
 supplies of food and stores expected. 
 That " rattlesnake colonel" Cressop had 
 allowed the teams to pass his fort at Co- 
 negogee without sending the flour con 
 tracted for; and the fellow s father turned 
 out to be as great a rogue as the son, for, 
 although he had sent the beef, it was ne 
 cessary to bury it as soon as it reached 
 the camp. The father had been paid to 
 salt this beef, whereas the old rascal had 
 put it up without pickle, and in dry casks 
 which could never have contained any. 
 
 Without flour and beef, the general 
 was obliged to send thirty wagons, with 
 a detachment under Washington, to Win 
 chester, over sixty miles of mountainous 
 and rocky country, for a supply. Three 
 hundred pack-horses were also ordered 
 off for flour; and a troop of light-horse 
 to bring up the rascal Cressop from Co- 
 negogee, full ninety miles distant. 
 
 Braddock became every day more and 
 more inflamed against the provinces, and 
 with reason, for they all failed in their en 
 gagements toward him. Governor Mor 
 ris s secretary, Mr. Richard Peters, came 
 in for a large share of the general s anger, 
 
 having just arrived in camp when the 
 raging storm w r as at its height. Peters 
 asked for a guard to protect the laborers 
 on the road which was being made, in 
 accordance with Braddock s requisition, 
 to connect Fort Cumberland with the 
 high-roads of Pennsylvania, in order to se 
 cure a communication for reinforcements 
 and provisions from that province. He 
 would not supply guards for wood-cut 
 ters, not he, declared the general, with 
 an oath ; let Pennsylvania do it. Subse 
 quently, however, Braddock did do it 
 himself, as without his aid the road would 
 never have made any progress ; for the 
 laborers were so constantly harassed by 
 their fears, and occasionally by the In 
 dians themselves, that they hardly ven 
 tured to go to their work in the wilder 
 ness. 
 
 Everything that was done had to be 
 done by the general himself. It was only 
 
 / o 
 
 after he had thus taken the work into 
 his own hands, that he got the necessary 
 supplies, and was prepared to march. 
 Six weeks of valuable time had been al 
 ready lost, in awaiting the slow and re 
 luctant action of the provincial govern 
 ments. He was again detained a month 
 afterward in doing what ought to have 
 been done long before by the colonial 
 authorities. 
 
 Toward the close of May, a council-of 
 war having been called, the plan of march 
 was agreed upon. The first preliminary 
 step was accordingly made immediately 
 
 after, by sending; a detachment 
 
 * I i * j ^ May 29, 
 
 of six hundred men, under the 
 
 command of Major Chapman, to act as 
 pioneers and open the way. They started 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 THE HARD MARCH. 
 
 69 
 
 June 7. 
 
 at daybreak, and when night came they 
 had only got about two miles from the 
 camp, and no wonder ; for there was a 
 mountain in the way, the ascent and de 
 scent of which were almost a perpendic 
 ular rock. Three wagons were entirely 
 destroyed in the operation of getting 
 past this obstruction, and "many more 
 were extremely shattered," although three 
 hundred men, with a company of miners, 
 had been engaged several days previous 
 ly in making that hill passable. A pas 
 sage, however, was soon after discovered 
 through a valley by Lieutenant Spend- 
 lowe of the naval brigade, by which the 
 "great mountain" could be avoided, and 
 this was adopted by the general for the 
 march. 
 
 Sir Peter Halket was the next 
 to follow Major Chapman, with 
 his brigade, artillery, and baggage-wag 
 ons. Three days subsequently, Colonel 
 Dunbar marched with his division ; and 
 a few hours afterward, General 
 Braddock, accompanied by his 
 aids-de-camp, set out with the remainder 
 of the forces. 
 
 The general was not long in discover 
 ing that he had engaged in an underta 
 king full of difficulty and danger. The 
 march was over a rough country now 
 through a deep forest, which required to 
 DC cleared at every step ; and again over 
 mountains, which demanded all the skill 
 of the sailors, and the constant labor of 
 the soldiers, to scale with their heavy ar 
 tillery and baggage. Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Burton had ridden back to the general, 
 and reported that he had been two days 
 in marching about five miles, on a better 
 
 June 10. 
 
 road than they were to expect afterward. 
 This induced Braddock, on consultation 
 with his officers, to diminish the heavy 
 load with which the army was encum 
 bered. Two six-pounders, four cohorns, 
 and a considerable quantity of stores and 
 ammunition, were sent back to the fort, 
 and twenty wagons thus cleared; the load 
 of each man was reduced, and the horses 
 allowance of two hundred weight it was 
 found necessary to diminish one half, as 
 most of the animals were sorry nags, in 
 capable of full duty. Even the officers 
 determined to rid themselves of much of 
 their personal baggage, and, giving up 
 the marquees and their luxurious ap 
 pointments, resolved to content them 
 selves with the common soldier s tent and 
 its bare necessities. They were thus en 
 abled to make over their superfluous 
 horses for the common service. The 
 general himself gave up twenty, which 
 proves him to have had rather an exor 
 bitant stud. The weakest men in the 
 ranks, together with all the women, with 
 the exception of two to each company, 
 were also sent back to the fort. 
 
 Lightened and relieved even as they 
 were now, the march continued to be 
 exceedingly difficult and slow, and the 
 whole force did not reach Little Mead 
 ows, twenty-four miles only from Fort 
 Cumberland, until the 1 8th of June. D u- 
 ring this march, although "all possible 
 care was taken," the line was sometimes 
 extended to a length of four or five miles. 
 So soon came to pass what Benjamin 
 Franklin foretold of the army making " a 
 slender line nearly four miles long, which 
 may expose it to be attacked by surprise 
 
70 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 on its flanks, and to be cut like thread 
 into several pieces, which from their dis 
 tance can not come up in time to sup 
 port one another." 
 
 Thus they toiled along, sickened with 
 hard work, exposure, and bad fare ; and 
 
 thus they passed sadly and slowly through 
 that forest of pines, aptly termed " The 
 Shades of Death," and ominous of a ter 
 rible future, until they finally came to a 
 halt and pitched their tents at Little 
 Meadows. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Braddock disposed to change his Tactics. Consults Young Washington, his Aid-de-Camp. The Army divided. Sir 
 John St. Clair in advance. A Foretaste of the Future. An Indian Ambuscade. Braddock advances with the 
 Choicest of the Troops. Dunbar left behind, to proceed leisurely with the Rest. Braddock still indulging in his Old- 
 fashioned Notions. Great Crossings in a Week. Indians skulking about. Sickness among the Troops. Washing 
 ton ill. Obliged to halt. Tracks of Indians and French. Braddock becomes cautious. Encampment at Tliickety 
 Run. News and Scalps from Fort Du Qtiesne. Gist s Report. Smoke in the Valley. Washington rejoins Brad- 
 dock. Monakatuca Camp. The Unfortunate Death of the Young Monakatuca. The Reverence paid by Braddock 
 to the Dead. The Monongahela Route. Crossing the Monongahela. The Brilliant Display of the Troops. The 
 Virginians in the Rear. The Conflict. The Brave Struggle. The Courage of Braddock. Four Jlorses shot under 
 Him. The General falls. The Retreat. Its Horrors. Washington unhurt, though exposed to the Hottest Fire. 
 Havoc of Officers. 
 
 AT Little Meadows, the various bri 
 gades came in in slow succession, at in 
 tervals of two or three days of each oth 
 er ; and the men, fatigued and dispirited 
 by the tedious, laborious, and melancholy 
 march, were glad to tent themselves with 
 in the camp, which had been fortified 
 by Sir John St. Clair and his advance- 
 party. Braddock now became conscious 
 of the necessity of waiving some of his 
 old-fashioned, European notions of mili 
 tary progress. His line he found was 
 dangerously weakened by the great ex 
 tent of baggage ; his men were worn out 
 by the fatigue of remaining so many 
 hours under arms ; and the horses grew 
 fainter every day, and many died. 
 
 The proud British general now de 
 scended from his high state of dignified 
 self-sufficiency, and deigned to consult 
 his young provincial aid-de-camp. Wash 
 
 ington s advice was solicited, and given 
 straightforwardly, but with a discreet 
 modesty. The garrison at Du Quesne, 
 he reminded the general, was weak at 
 this time ; and there was little prospect, 
 while the rivers were low, of any addi 
 tion to its strength from the coming in 
 
 O o 
 
 of more men and supplies. Now was the 
 time, urged the young Virginian, to make 
 a rapid march and strike an irresistible 
 blow. He would advise, therefore, that 
 the general should push on at once with 
 a light division, and leave the heavy 
 troops and baggage to follow after. 
 Braddock approved of this view, and de 
 termined to lay it before his council-of- 
 war, where Washington himself, of course, 
 from his position, had no voice. The 
 plan of the young Virginian aid-de-camp 
 was adopted, and preparations made at 
 once to carry it into effect. 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 BRADDOCK ON THE ADVANCE. 
 
 71 
 
 Juiie 18. 
 
 Sir John Sinclair, the deputy 
 quartermaster-general,whose du 
 ty it was to act as pioneer, now set out 
 with four hundred men, under Gage, to 
 cut and make the road to the "Little 
 Crossings," situated on a small stream emp 
 tying into Casselman s river. They took 
 with them the pack-horses, laden with 
 tools and provisions, and two six-pound 
 ers for defence. The Indians also ac 
 companied them, to act as scouts. Sir 
 John St. Glair s detachment had not pro 
 ceeded far, when the peculiar hazards 
 of the march were strikingly exhibited. 
 The Indian chief Monokatuca, or Scaro- 
 vyadi, as he was sometimes called, had 
 strayed, in company with his son, in ad 
 vance of the party, when he fell into an 
 ambuscade of French and savages. The 
 former were for killing him at once ; the 
 Indians, however, refused, and declared 
 that they would join the English if they 
 did so. They then agreed to tie him to 
 a tree, and leave him there. The son 
 escaped, and, bringing word to his Indian 
 brethren of the whereabouts of his father, 
 the old chief was released at once. 
 
 Braddock himself set out the 
 next day after the departure of 
 St. Glair, taking with him the two veter 
 an grenadier companies and five hundred 
 rank and file of the best of the remain 
 ing troops, under the various commands 
 of Sir Peter Halket, Lieutenani>Colonel 
 Burton, and Major Sparks, which, with 
 the eighteen Virginia light-horse and the 
 small party of seamen, made up a divis 
 ion of eight hundred, all told. Dunbar 
 and others left behind were sorely vexed 
 at the preference given by the general 
 
 June 19. 
 
 to the troops with which he marched 
 as it was well understood that his pur 
 pose had been to select those he believed 
 to be the best. 
 
 Disencumbered as the general compar 
 atively was, his march was still slow r . 
 He had rid himself of much of his artil 
 lery and baggage, taking with him only 
 four ho witzers,each drawn by nine horses; 
 four twelve-pounders, with seven horses 
 each ; and thirty wagons, with four horses 
 each. Braddock was still too set in his 
 old military notions, to adapt himself to 
 the requirements of the country ; for, as 
 Washington says, " instead of pushing on 
 with vigor, without regarding a little 
 rough road, they were halting to level 
 every molehill and to erect bridges over 
 every brook, by which means we were 
 four days in getting twelve miles." With 
 this deliberate kind of procedure, there 
 was little chance of reaching Fort Du 
 Quesne by the 28th of June, the time 
 proposed, in order to anticipate the arri 
 val of the half-thousand regulars who 
 were reported to be on their march to 
 the aid of the French garrison. They 
 did not, in fact, reach the " Great Cross 
 ings" on the Youghioney river until the 
 24th of June, although it was but seven 
 teen miles, which had taken a week to 
 march. 
 
 Braddock found himself always on the 
 heels of the advance-party under Sir John 
 St. Glair, with whom he was constantly 
 coming up. The general was thus obliged 
 to halt until the sides of a mountain were 
 cut through, or the swamps were made 
 passable. He was not without disturb 
 ance, too, from daily rumors of the ap- 
 
72 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 proach of the enemy, and occasional har 
 assment by hostile Indians. At one time 
 the guides came running in, extremely 
 frightened, and reporting that a great 
 body of the enemy were marching to at 
 tack the advanced guard. This alarm 
 over, intelligence was brought that some 
 men, who had roamed beyond the out 
 posts, had been shot and scalped ; while 
 Indians were constantly observed skulk 
 ing about, to waylay a straggler, or to 
 watch the progress of the march. Horse- 
 thieves abounded, too ; and it was with 
 the greatest difficulty that the fatigued 
 nags, after a hard day s work, could get 
 a nibble of pasture, before they were 
 driven off by some of the freebooters of 
 the forest. 
 
 Sickness also prevailed among the offi 
 cers and soldiers, in consequence of the 
 fatigue and bad provisions. One of the 
 commanders of the naval brigade was 
 prostrated by fever, and sent back to Lit 
 tle Meadows. Washington fell ill, and, 
 being unable to sit any longer on his 
 horse, was obliged to allow himself to be 
 conveyed in a covered wagon. He was 
 finally forced by his disease to give in, 
 and was induced at the earnest solicita 
 tion of Braddock to whom he had be 
 come greatly endeared from his virtues, 
 and was now almost indispensable from 
 the excellence of his judgment and the 
 value of his opinions to stay behind. 
 Washington s ardor to go on was only 
 appeased by the solemn promise of Brad- 
 dock that he should have a chance of 
 joining him before he engaged with the 
 enemy. 
 
 As Braddock moved on slowly from 
 
 Juue 25. 
 
 the " Great Crossings," he had more and 
 more proof that he was in the Indian 
 country, and greater reason to be on his 
 guard against the ambuscades of the wily 
 savages. During one day s march, an 
 Indian camp was discovered, that had 
 been just abandoned, and which, from the 
 number of huts, proved that some hun 
 dred and seventy of these savages had 
 lately occupied them. They had stripped 
 the barks from the trees, and inscribed 
 upon them with paint all kinds of threats 
 and bravadoes, in the Indian and French 
 languages. 
 
 They now passed the Great Meadows, 
 and encamped about two miles 
 on the other side. Some Indians 
 making their appearance in the neigh 
 boring woods, the general sent the light- 
 horse, a few Indian scouts, and some vol 
 unteers, to surround them ; but they re 
 turned without success. On taking up 
 their march again, next day, they had 
 made but a quarter of a mile from their 
 late encampment, when they reached the 
 summit of so steep a hill, that it was ne 
 cessary to call in the aid of the sailors, 
 and let down the wagons with tackle. 
 
 On this day, in consequence 
 of the badness of the road, the 
 army could only make four miles. At the 
 halting-place, which was situated where 
 the Indian path to the Monongahela ter 
 minates, was found an Indian camp which 
 had been so recently abandoned, that the 
 fires were still burning. Triumphant bra 
 vadoes were seen written upon the trees, 
 with the number of scalps that had been 
 taken two days before. There had evi 
 dently been some French with them, for 
 
 June 26. 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 RETURN OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 73 
 
 they had inscribed also their names, and 
 many insolent expressions, in their own 
 language. The position of the Indian 
 camp was strongly fixed upon a high 
 rock, with a narrow and steep ascent to 
 the top. In the middle flowed a spring. 
 It was by the Indian pass, which led to 
 this camp, that the French and Indian 
 force had come which attacked Washing 
 ton at Fort Necessity. Traces were dis 
 covered of the route taken by those who 
 had so recently abandoned the place, and 
 some ninety volunteers, provide 3 with 
 guides, issued out at night, toward the 
 Monongahela, in pursuit; but although 
 they found by the way some provisions 
 and a batteau, which they destroyed, they 
 saw no men. 
 
 Great precautions were now taken, at 
 every halting-place on the march, lest 
 the Indians and the French should come 
 upon them unawares. The pickets were 
 doubled ; the men kept constantly under 
 arms, with fixed bayonets ; and no fire, 
 on any account, allowed to be lighted in 
 front of them. In cleaning the guns, the 
 soldiers were strictly ordered to draw the 
 charges, and not fire them off, lest the 
 enemy should be within hearing, and thus 
 be made aware of the approach of the 
 troops. The cartridges were carefully 
 examined, and, when injured by the wet, 
 exchanged for fresh ones. Although 
 it was the 30th of June when the line 
 had crossed the Youghioney the men 
 wading through a depth of three feet, 
 and across a breadth of water of two hun 
 dred yards it was not before the 4th of 
 July, so slow was the progress, the march 
 frequently not exceeding two miles a day, 
 10 
 
 July 6. 
 
 that they came up to " Thickety Run/ 
 where they encamped. The country now 
 became less mountainous and rocky ; and 
 the white-oak woods less dense, and not 
 offering so good a cover for a skulking 
 enemy. 
 
 A couple of Indians, who had been sent 
 out toward Fort Du Quesne, now 
 returned, bringing the scalp of a 
 French officer, whom they had fallen in 
 with-while he was out shooting, and the 
 intelligence that there were few men or 
 tracks about, and no additional works at 
 the fort. Gist, the general s provincial 
 guide, brought back a very similar re 
 port, with the additional and most impor 
 tant information, however, that he had 
 observed some smoke in a valley between 
 the English encampment and Fort Du 
 Quesne. Gist had had a narrow escape ; 
 for while attempting at night to get closer 
 to the fort, he had been observed by a 
 couple of Indians, who pursued and came 
 very near catching him. 
 
 While encamped at Thickety Run, the 
 captain with his detachment of one hun 
 dred men, who had been sent to Dunbar s 
 camp at Little Meadows for provisions, 
 came in with a very welcome supply. 
 The delay incurred in waiting for this 
 seemed absolutely necessary, but, as the 
 sequel will prove, was disastrous to Brad- 
 dock. With the party, however, came 
 Washington, who had so far recovered as 
 to join the troop on its way to the gen 
 eral s camp. He was warmly welcomed 
 on his arrival by Braddock and his fellow- 
 aids-de-camp, Morris and Orme, who had 
 kept him during his absence well in 
 formed, by frequent letters, of every de- 
 
74 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_PART 1. 
 
 tail of the march. He came in the very 
 nick of time, for the army was only dis 
 tant fifteen miles from Fort Du Quesne, 
 and might expect hot work at the earli 
 est moment. The next day after Wash 
 ington s arrival had been, in fact, appoint 
 ed as the day of attack. 
 
 The place where Braddock had now 
 halted was styled " Monakatuca Camp," 
 from an unhappy accident that occurred 
 in its neighborhood. A few stragglers 
 in the rear of the march had been at 
 tacked by hostile Indians, and ruthlessly 
 scalped. A company of grenadiers hav 
 ing been ordered out to look after these 
 savages, met with a party of Indians be 
 longing to the English line, and, mista 
 king them for the enemy, fired upon 
 them notwithstanding the countersign 
 agreed upon, raising a bough and ground 
 ing amis, was made and killed the son 
 of the chief Monakatuca. When his body 
 was brought to the camp by the wailing 
 Indians, the general did everything in his 
 power to console the father and the rest. 
 The usual presents were bestowed, a mil 
 itary funeral with all its solemnities was 
 ordered, the officers attended, and a vol 
 ley was fired over the forest-grave where 
 the young chief was laid. This marked 
 respect to their dead seemed to have 
 greatly won for Braddock the attachment 
 of the few Indian followers left to him. 
 
 On taking up his march, Brad- 
 clock strove, in order to avoid 
 the dangerous pass called "The Narrows," 
 to cross the narrow stream known as Tur 
 tle creek. He had not, however, pro 
 ceeded far, when he reached a precipice 
 that it was impossible to descend. Sir 
 
 July 8, 
 
 John St. Clair was therefore ordered to 
 take a captain and a hundred men, some 
 light-horse, and Indian guides, and recon 
 noitre thoroughly the country round 
 about. The main body having in the 
 meantime encamped for the night, the 
 reconnoitring party returned with the 
 report that another route, by fording the 
 Monongahela, had been discovered, by 
 which both the precipice and the narrows 
 might be avoided. 
 
 It was determined, therefore, to pursue 
 the Monongahela route, by which the ar 
 my would be obliged to cross that river 
 twice in order to reach Fort Du Quesne. 
 The road through the Narrows was the 
 more direct one ; but, as it was but a nar 
 row pass of two miles in length, with a 
 river on the left and a very high mount 
 ain on the right, and in such a rough con 
 dition that it would require much time 
 and labor to make it passable for car 
 riages, it seemed right to abandon it 
 
 The next morning, therefore, 
 Braddock, who had been encamp 
 ed the previous night within two miles 
 of the Monongahela, made his arrange 
 ments for passing his forces across the 
 two fords, one of which would take them 
 to the opposite bank, and the other bring 
 them back to the side whence they start 
 ed, but in the immediate neighborhood 
 of the fort. Accordingly, at daybreak, 
 LieutenantrColonel Gage was ordered to 
 march with two companies of grenadiers, 
 one hundred and sixty rank and file of 
 the forty-fourth and forty-eight, Captain 
 Gates s independent company of New 
 Yorkers, some four hundred men in all, 
 two six-pounders, and proper guides. His 
 
 July 9, 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 CROSSING THE MONONGAHELA. 
 
 75 
 
 instructions were, to pass the two fords 
 of the Monongahela, and on crossing the 
 second to post himself so as to secure the 
 passage of the river. Washington is said 
 to have ventured to propose that the ran 
 gers, of Virginia, accustomed to the wild 
 country and Indian warfare, should lead 
 the advance ; but that Braddock peremp 
 torily and angrily refused to listen to any 
 such proposition, and, to show his supe 
 rior confidence in the regulars and his 
 contempt for the provincials, ordered the 
 Virginians to the rear. Gage advanced 
 and crossed the fords, as had been or 
 dered, meeting with no opposition but a 
 show of hostility from some thirty Indi 
 ans, who, however, took to their heels at 
 once and disappeared. 
 
 The general now moved his main body, 
 and it marched across the two fords in 
 admirable order. The troops were in full 
 uniform, their colors were flying gayly, 
 the drums were beating, and the fifes 
 playing " The Grenadiers March." The 
 provincials were struck with admiration 
 at the gallant martial display, and the 
 whole line thrilled with confident hope 
 of a speedy and glorious termination to 
 their long march. Both passes having 
 been got over in such gallant array, with 
 out any disorder or interference, they 
 began to think that the enemy would 
 not even venture to make an attack, " as 
 they might have done with so many ad 
 vantages a little time before." 
 
 " Washington," says Irving, " with his 
 keen and youthful relish for military af 
 fairs, was delighted with the perfect or 
 der and equipment of the troops, so dif 
 ferent from the rough bush-fighters to 
 
 which he had been accustomed. Roused 
 to new life, he forgot his recent ailments, 
 and broke forth in expressions of enjoy 
 ment and admiration, as he rode in com 
 pany with his fellow aids-de-camp, Orme 
 and Morris. Often in after-life he used 
 to speak of the effect upon him of the 
 first sight of a well-disciplined European 
 army, marching in high confidence and 
 bright array, on the eve of a battle." 
 
 From early morning, the advance par 
 ty under Gage having moved before day 
 break, until the afternoon, it being near 
 ly two o clock when the rear-guard passed 
 the second ford, Braddock had been en 
 gaged in getting his forces again in the 
 line of march toward the fort. As soon 
 as all were over, there was a general halt, 
 and then the army fell into marching or 
 der. First went an engineer, three guides, 
 and six light-horsemen, to lead the way, 
 followed closely by the grenadiers, and 
 flanking-parties distributed along the edge 
 of the wood which bounded the march. 
 Next came the working-force, under Sir 
 John St. Clair. Then marched the main 
 body with Braddock himself, while the un 
 appreciated Virginians sullenly brought 
 up the rear. 
 
 The banks of the river along which 
 the army was now formed rose gradually 
 from the water in natural terraces, gen 
 tly sloping from one to the other, until 
 suddenly bounded by the steep, rocky , 
 wall of the mountain-range. The ground 
 upon which they halted, immediately 01 
 the border of the Monongahela, where it 
 was crossed by the second ford, was for 
 a fourth of a mile almost level, with an 
 open, park-like growth of hickory-trees 
 
74 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 tail of the march. He came in the very 
 nick of time, for the army was only dis 
 tant fifteen miles from Fort Du Quesne, 
 and might expect hot work at the earli 
 est moment. The next day after Wash 
 ington s arrival had been, in fact, appoint 
 ed as the day of attack. 
 
 The place where Braddock had now 
 halted was styled " Monakatuca Camp," 
 from an unhappy accident that occurred 
 in its neighborhood. A few stragglers 
 in the rear of the march had been at 
 tacked by hostile Indians, and ruthlessly 
 scalped. A company of grenadiers hav 
 ing been ordered out to look after these 
 savages, met with a party of Indians be 
 longing to the English line, and, mista 
 king them for the enemy, fired upon 
 them notwithstanding the countersign 
 agreed upon, raising a bough and ground 
 ing arms, was made and killed the son 
 of the chief Monakatuca. When his body 
 was brought to the camp by the wailing 
 Indians, the general did everything in his 
 power to console the father and the rest. 
 The usual presents were bestowed, a mil 
 itary funeral with all its solemnities was 
 ordered, the officers attended, and a vol 
 ley was fired over the forestrgrave where 
 the young chief was laid. This marked 
 respect to their dead seemed to have 
 greatly won for Braddock the attachment 
 of the few Indian followers left to him. 
 
 On taking up his march, Brad- 
 dock strove, in order to avoid 
 the dangerous pass called "The Narrows," 
 to cross the narrow stream known as Tur 
 tle creek. He had not, however, pro 
 ceeded far, when he reached a precipice 
 that it was impossible to descend. Sir 
 
 July 8, 
 
 John St. Glair was therefore ordered to 
 take a captain and a hundred men, some 
 light-horse, and Indian guides, and recon 
 noitre thoroughly the country round 
 about. The main body having in the 
 meantime encamped for the night, the 
 reconnoitring party returned with the 
 report that another route, by fording the 
 Monongahela, had been discovered, by 
 which both the precipice and the narrows 
 might be avoided. 
 
 It was determined, therefore, to pursue 
 the Monongahela route, by which the ar 
 my would be obliged to cross that river 
 twice in order to reach Fort Du Quesne. 
 The road through the Narrows was the 
 more direct one ; but, as it was but a nar 
 row pass of two miles in length, with a 
 river on the left and a very high mount 
 ain on the right, and in such a rough con 
 dition that it would require much time 
 and labor to make it passable for car 
 riages, it seemed right to abandon it. 
 
 The next morning, therefore, 
 Braddock, who had been encamp 
 ed the previous night within two miles 
 of the Monongahela, made his arrange 
 ments for passing his forces across the 
 two fords, one of which would take them 
 to the opposite bank, and the other bring 
 them back to the side whence they start 
 ed, but in the immediate neighborhood 
 of the fort. Accordingly, at daybreak, 
 LieutenantrColonel Gage was ordered to 
 march with two companies of grenadiers, 
 one hundred and sixty rank and file of 
 the forty-fourth and forty-eight, Captain 
 Gates s independent company of New 
 Yorkers, some four hundred men in all, 
 two six-pounders, and proper guides. His 
 
 July 9, 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 CROSSING THE MONONGAHELA. 
 
 75 
 
 instructions were, to pass the two fords 
 of the Monongahela, and on crossing the 
 second to post himself so as to secure the 
 passage of the river. Washington is said 
 to have ventured to propose that the ran 
 gers, of Virginia, accustomed to the wild 
 country and Indian warfare, should lead 
 the advance ; but that Braddock peremp 
 torily and angrily refused to listen to any 
 such proposition, and, to show his supe 
 rior confidence in the regulars and his 
 contempt for the provincials, ordered the 
 Virginians to the rear. Gage advanced 
 and crossed the fords, as had been or 
 dered, meeting with no opposition but a 
 show of hostility from some thirty Indi 
 ans, who, however, took to their heels at 
 once and disappeared. 
 
 The general now moved his main body, 
 and it marched across the two fords in 
 admirable order. The troops were in full 
 uniform, their colors were flying gayly, 
 the drums were beating, and the fifes 
 playing " The Grenadiers March." The 
 provincials were struck with admiration 
 at the gallant martial display, and the 
 whole line thrilled with confident hope 
 of a speedy and glorious termination to 
 their long march. Both passes having 
 been got over in such gallant array, with 
 out any disorder or interference, they 
 began to think that the enemy would 
 not even venture to make an attack, " as 
 they might have done with so many ad 
 vantages a little time before." 
 
 " Washington," says Irving, " with his 
 keen and youthful relish for military af 
 fairs, was delighted with the perfect or 
 der and equipment of the troops, so dif 
 ferent from the rough bush-fighters to 
 
 which he had been accustomed. Roused 
 to new life, he forgot his recent ailments, 
 and broke forth in expressions of enjoy 
 ment and admiration, as he rode in com 
 pany with his fellow aids-de-camp, Orme 
 and Morris. Often in after-life he used 
 to speak of the effect upon him of the 
 first sight of a well-disciplined European 
 army, marching in high confidence and 
 bright array, on the eve of a battle." 
 
 From early morning, the advance par 
 ty under Gage having moved before day 
 break, until the afternoon, it being near 
 ly two o clock when the rear-guard passed 
 the second ford, Braddock had been en 
 gaged in getting his forces again in the 
 line of march toward the fort. As soon 
 as all were over, there was a general halt, 
 and then the army fell into marching or 
 der. First went an engineer, three guides, 
 and six light-horsemen, to lead the way, 
 followed closely by the grenadiers, and 
 flanking-parties distributed along the edge 
 of the wood which bounded the march. 
 Next came the working-force, under Sir 
 John St. Clair. Then marched the main 
 body with Braddock himself, while the un 
 appreciated Virginians sullenly brought 
 up the rear. 
 
 The banks of the river along which 
 the army was now formed rose gradually 
 from the water in natural terraces, gen 
 tly sloping from one to the other, until 
 suddenly bounded by the steep, rocky 
 wall of the mountain-range. The ground 
 upon which they halted, immediately 01 
 the border of the Monongahela, where it 
 was crossed by the second ford, was for 
 a fourth of a mile almost level, with an 
 open, park-like growth of hickory-trees 
 
78 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 cover of the trees, and thus wage an 
 equal battle with the enemy. Braddock 
 was so maddened by the ill conduct of 
 his men, or so wedded to system, that he 
 would not listen to such a proposal, and 
 insisted upon his soldiers keeping the 
 ranks. Moreover, whenever he found a 
 poor fellow covering himself behind a 
 tree, he would ride up to him, and, stri 
 king him with the flat of his sword, and 
 fiercely calling him a coward, drive him 
 back to the open ground. A company 
 of Virginians, however, familiar with the 
 Indian warfare, succeeded in gaining the 
 cover of a large trunk of a felled tree, and 
 thence fired upon the enemy with excel 
 lent effect. The British soldiers, unable 
 in their fright and confusion to distin 
 guish friend from foe, no sooner saw the 
 flashes and smoke of the provincials fire 
 locks, which were doing such good ser 
 vice, than they turned their guns upon 
 them, and thus killed fifty out of the 
 whole Virginian company of eighty, and 
 forced the small remnant to fly for their 
 lives ! 
 
 Everything had been done that cour 
 age could do by the officers, hardly one 
 of whom was now able to keep the field. 
 Sir Peter Halket had been struck down 
 soon after arriving upon the ground ; 
 and his son, a young subaltern, was shot 
 by his side, and fell dead across his fa 
 ther s body. Not a single one of the gen 
 eral s aids, with the exception of Wash 
 
 ington, escaped ; all being either wound 
 ed or killed. Shirley, Braddock s secreta 
 ry, was shot dead by a musketrball, which 
 struck him in the head. Orme and Mor 
 ris, the two aids-de-camp, were severely 
 wounded, and so early in the engage 
 ment, that the duty of carrying the or 
 ders of the general devolved solely upon 
 Washington, whose escape seemed mar 
 vellous. He was everywhere, and ex 
 posed to the hottest fire throughout the 
 action. He had two horses shot under 
 him, and four bullets passed through his 
 coat ; and yet he did not receive a single 
 wound. 
 
 Amid the terrible massacre which was 
 going on about him, Braddock himself 
 remained in the centre of the field, brave 
 ly struggling for a long time against fate. 
 At last, when almost all his officers had 
 fallen when nearly two thirds of the 
 army had been slain, and the rest so 
 panic-stricken as to be hardly capable of 
 keeping their ranks, in formal obedience 
 to his command the general saw that 
 all was lost, and gave the order to re 
 treat. The retreat became at once a pre 
 cipitate flight. " They ran as sheep pur 
 sued by dogs, and it was impossible to 
 rally them." 
 
 Braddock had hardly given the order, 
 when he was struck with a musket-ball, 
 which passed through his right arm into 
 his lungs. He fell immediately from his 
 horse to the ground. 
 
(0) 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 THE FLIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Braddock prostrate on the Field. The Affectionate Devotion of the Surviving Officers. The Panic of the Soldiers. 
 Men bribed to bear away the Fallen General. Braddock s Desponding Courage. Demands his Pistols, and threatens 
 Suicide. The Coolness of Washington in Covering the Retreat across the Monongahela. Braddock still mindful of 
 Duty. Attempts to rally the Fugitives. His Failure. Washington sent in Advance to summon Dunbar to the Res 
 cue. Braddock continues the Retreat, lying on a Litter. Kindness of the Dying General. Arrival at Dunbar s 
 Camp. Its Disorder. Last Words, Death, and Burial, of Braddock. A Retrospect. The French at Fort Du 
 Qucsne. The Works nt the Fort. The Despair of Contrecreur. The Daring Proposition of a Subaltern. DC Beau- 
 jeu and his Indian Allies. Do Beaujcu s Effective Appeal. The Cruelty of the Conquerors. A Scene of Ferocious 
 Barbarity. Dunbar s Fright and Pell-mell Flight. What he did do, and what he might have done. Preparations in 
 Philadelphia for the Celebration of the Expected Victory of Braddock. Franklin s Wet Blanket. News of the Defeat, 
 and its Effect upon the Philadelphians. Shirley and Fort Niagara. 
 
 IN the general, helter-skelter 
 
 1 7 i *5 
 
 flight which succeeded the order 
 
 to retreat, the wounded Braddock lay 
 upon the ground, abandoned by all but 
 those few of his officers who were still 
 alive and yet able, in spite of their 
 wounds, to bestow upon him their affec 
 tionate and faithful services. His aid-de 
 camp Orme, though disabled, succeeded 
 in reaching the side of his fallen general, 
 and called upon the flying soldiers to 
 come to his aid and bear him from the 
 field. He ordered; he urged; he begged; 
 he finally strove to bribe, with a purse 
 of gold, the panic-stricken fugitives, but 
 in vain : they continued their flight 
 throwing away their arms and ammuni 
 tion, and even their clothes, to escape 
 the faster from the deadly aim and the 
 ruthless tomahawk of their savage ene 
 my. 
 
 Orme was almost in despair for the 
 safety of his general, when Captain Stew 
 art, the commander of the Virginia light- 
 horse, came up, and, sharing with the 
 young aid-de-camp his kind and devoted 
 sympathy for their wounded chief, offered 
 
 his services. They at last succeeded, by 
 the assistance of some servants attached 
 to the army, who were bribed by a guin 
 ea and a bottle of rum to each, in placing 
 the helpless Braddock in a tumbril, and 
 thus bore him off the field. The general, 
 however, at first refused to be carried 
 away, declaring that he wished to be left 
 on the spot where he had fallen. He 
 even became impatient of the death 
 which was fast coming, and begged the 
 pistols of a bystander, that he might 
 thus, like an ancient Roman, put an end, 
 by suicide, to the torturing reflections of 
 a despairing courage. 
 
 The retreat continued ; the British sol 
 diers flying in confused fright, and the 
 Indians following after, howling in fierce 
 pursuit, and only ceasing their deadly 
 fire when they stopped to scalp some 
 prostrate fugitive. The retreat was thus 
 harassed to the bank of the Monongahela 
 river, which, however, was crossed with 
 mitigated suffering, thanks to the cool 
 ness of Washington, who succeeded in 
 rallying a small force of men, sufficient 
 to keep at bay the pursuing savages, 
 
80 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 while the remnant of the troops were 
 hurriedly crossing the ford. 
 
 When about a quarter of a mile on 
 the other side of the Monongahela, al 
 though most of the soldiers still contin 
 ued their flight, Braddock succeeded in 
 bringing to a halt about a hundred men. 
 The general, though his life was ebbing 
 fast, and though his pride had been so 
 mortally wounded by the disgrace of the 
 day, did not lose his sense of duty. He 
 still, though prostrate under the hands 
 of the surgeon, gave his orders, and strove 
 to hold the position where he was until 
 he might be reinforced by Dunbar, with 
 the hope of yet revenging himself for 
 the defeat he had suffered from the en 
 emy. 
 
 Washington was sent accordingly to 
 Dunbar, with orders for that officer to 
 hasten on immediately with his troops. 
 Braddock in the meantime moved his 
 few men to an advantageous spot about 
 two hundred yards from the road. Small 
 parties and sentinels were then posted 
 about, and it was intended to keep pos 
 session of that ground until the arrival 
 of Dunbar. All the men, however, be 
 fore they had been there an hour, ran 
 off, leaving the general and his wounded 
 officers, with none but a small remnant 
 of the vanguard. It was of course use 
 less, after this desertion, for Braddock to 
 remain ; and, trying at first to mount a 
 horse, but finding himself unable from 
 his increasing weakness, he w r as obliged 
 to be carried on a litter. Borne thus, 
 and accompanied by Orme and Morris, 
 his wounded aids-de-camp, on litters like 
 himself, the general begun his ad jour 
 
 ney. He had left the field at five o clock 
 in the afternoon, and the shades of even 
 ing began now to fall. He travelled 
 slowly on, with the darkness of night 
 gathering, to throw an added gloom upon 
 his saddened heart. 
 
 On crossing the second ford of the 
 Monongahela, Braddock was joined by 
 LieutenantrColonel Gage, who had suc 
 ceeded in rallying some eighty men, who 
 now offered themselves as a timely escort 
 to the dying general and his wounded 
 officers. Thus reinforced, they marched 
 all that night and the next day until ten 
 o clock in the evening, when they reached 
 Gist s Plantation. Here they found a 
 timely supply of wagons, provisions, and 
 hospital-stores, which had been brought 
 on from Dimbar s camp by Washington, 
 who, having fulfilled his commission, was 
 now on his return to meet the gener 
 al. After a slight halt for refreshment 
 at Gist s Plantation, they all proceeded 
 to Dunbar s camp, some thirteen miles 
 distant. The first thing done by Brad- 
 dock, on arriving there, was to send a 
 sergeant s party back with provisions, to 
 be left on the road from the Mononga 
 hela, for any stragglers who might have 
 lost their way on the route. It is pleas 
 ing to record this proof of a kindly im 
 pulse on the part of a man who, like 
 Braddock, was so often accused of bru 
 tality. 
 
 At Dunbar s camp all was disobedience 
 and confusion. Many of those, princi 
 pally the Pennsylvania wagoners, who 
 had fled from the fatal field without ceas 
 ing a moment their flight, had come in 
 here, with the sad tidings of the defeat, 
 
JOLONIAL.J 
 
 which they hurried to communicate in 
 despairing cries, exclaiming, "All is lost ! 
 Braddock is killed ! Wounded officers 
 have been borne off from the field in 
 bloody sheets ! The troops are all cut 
 to pieces !" Dunbar s camp itself became 
 infected with the panic, and many of his 
 men had run away, while those who were 
 left seemed to have forgotten all disci 
 pline. The presence of the general se 
 cured a little more order in the camp, 
 and he had still hoped so far to reassure 
 his troops as to be able to march them 
 again toward Fort Du Quesne. Finding, 
 however, Dunbar and his men in a con 
 dition of hopeless disaffection and disor 
 der from fright, the dying Braddock re 
 solved to give up all hope of redeeming 
 the disgrace of the fatal defeat, and sadly 
 but firmly from his camp-bed, where he 
 lay prostrate, ordered the troops to retire 
 to the seaboard. The military stores were 
 now destroyed, much of the artillery was 
 buried, the wagons burned, the powder- 
 casks stove in, and the powder emptied 
 into a spring of water. Nothing was pre 
 served but what was actually w r anted for 
 the march. 
 
 Braddock lingered on, though growing 
 weaker and weaker. His heart seemed 
 to give \vay before his life-blood ceased 
 to run; and he was heard to utter, in 
 accents of despair, "Who would have 
 thought it !" He, however, occasionally 
 rallied in spirits, and exclaimed, with a 
 gleam of hope, " We shall better know 
 ho\v to deal with them another time." 
 
 DEATH OF BRADDOCK. 
 
 81 
 
 July 13, 
 
 The march having been be 
 gun, the troops succeeded in 
 reaching Great Meadows in tolerable or- 
 
 der, the general and his wounded officers 
 having been conveyed to that place on 
 litters borne by horses. A halt had hard 
 ly been ordered, and the prostrate Brad- 
 dock borne to his tent, when the brave- 
 but unfortunate general died. He, how 
 ever, retained his self-possession to the 
 last, and availed himself of the few re 
 maining moments of his life to thank 
 those who were about him, and who had 
 been devotedly kind and faithful to him 
 during the struggle on the battle-field, 
 as w r ell as in the agony of death. Wash 
 ington he particularly signalled out, ask 
 ing his forgiveness for his irritable tem 
 per toward him, and, to prove his grati 
 tude for the young Virginian s fidelity 
 and friendship, left him his favorite horse 
 and his negro-servant Bishop. 
 
 The last sad duty to the remains of 
 the general w r as paid, in consequence of 
 the chaplain being wounded, by Wash 
 ington, who read the funeral-service over 
 the grave. The burial was conducted 
 with the greatest reverence, although the 
 usual drum-beat and the volley of guns 
 were omitted, for fear that the watchful 
 ness of some lurking savages in the neigh 
 borhood might be aroused, and that they 
 might thus seek out the spot and dese 
 crate the last resting-place of the unfor 
 tunate Braddock. " Whatever may have 
 been his faults and errors," says Irving, 
 "he in a manner expiated them by the 
 hardest lot that can befall a brave sol 
 dier, ambitious of renown an unlion- 
 ored grave in a strange land ; a memory 
 clouded by misfortune ; and a name for 
 ever coupled with defeat." 
 
 Let us now turn back, in regard to 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 time, and observe the condition and con 
 duct of the enemy when anticipating the 
 approach of the English on that expedi 
 tion against Fort Du Quesne which re 
 sulted in the disastrous defeat we have 
 just recorded. 
 
 The French fort, which was situated on 
 the triangular piece of land at the junc 
 tion of the Monongahela with the Alle- 
 ghany, had been tolerably well construct 
 ed, and Avas, with a strong garrison, able 
 to endure a long and vigorous siege. It 
 was well protected on one side, and nat- 
 urally, by the river Monongahela, on the 
 eastern bank of which it stood ; and its 
 more exposed points, facing the land, 
 were fortified with bastions built up of 
 great logs to the height of a dozen feet, 
 and filled in with firmly-packed earth 
 and sod. These bastions were joined by 
 a strong stockade of piles driven deep 
 into the ground, and fenced with thick, 
 transverse poles, between Avhich inter 
 stices were left for loopholes for cannon 
 and muskets. A ditch, with a stockade 
 to support it, surrounded the whole on 
 the land-side. The inner part of the fort, 
 containing the magazines and the officers 
 and men s quarters, was made of heavy 
 logs ; and its walls were so deeply laid 
 down in the ground, that the earth al 
 most reached the top. The roof, which 
 was the only part exposed, was thickly 
 covered with clay. The whole fortifica 
 tion was deemed so strong as to be only 
 pregnable to hot shot or bombs thrown 
 upon it from the neighboring hills ; and 
 here Sir John St. Clair, after his prelimi 
 nary survey, had proposed to Braddock 
 to mount his artillery, and thence direct 
 
 his attack a plan which, it is supposed, 
 had obtained the concurrence of the gen 
 eral. 
 
 During the spring of 1755, at the time 
 when Braddock s forces were originally 
 intended to have reached Fort Du Quesne, 
 Contrecceur, who was in command, had 
 only two hundred men, including French 
 and Indians, to garrison the place. Re 
 inforcements were urgently solicited from 
 Canada; and, although there were rumors 
 which had reached the English camp that 
 a large force was on its march to strength 
 en the garrison, none had arrived when 
 Braddock approached. 
 
 As the English drew near, and no word 
 came of aid from Canada, Contrecceur so 
 far despaired of defending himself, that 
 he had almost made up his mind to sur 
 render without striking a blow. He had, 
 in fact, prepared the solitary gun, tr 
 inarch out with, on his being granted 
 which was evidently intended to be the 
 extent of his demand the honors of w r ar 
 on capitulation. Contrecoeur had been 
 kept well informed of all the particulars 
 of Braddock s march by means of the In 
 dians in the French interest, who were 
 constantly skulking about the British 
 line ; and it was not until the 8th of July, 
 when an Indian scout brought in word 
 that the army was about to ford the Mo 
 nongahela, that there was entertained the 
 least hope of successful opposition. It 
 was at this time that De Beaujeu, a young 
 and spirited French officer, proposed to 
 prepare an ambuscade, by which he might 
 surprise the English forces, and attempt 
 to stop their progress as they recrossed 
 the second ford of the Monongahela. 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 FRENCH BARBARITY. 
 
 83 
 
 The old French commander shrugged 
 his shoulders doubtingly as he listened 
 to his youthful subaltern s hazardous pro 
 posal. He was, however, so far won over 
 by the urgent enthusiasm of the young 
 officer, that he consented, provided he 
 could get volunteers for his rash enter 
 prise. De Beaujeu took his commander 
 at his word, and submitted the plan to 
 the garrison. The whole, to a man, im 
 mediately declared themselves ready to 
 join him. 
 
 The Indians, however, were more back 
 ward, and said to young Beaujeu, taunt 
 ingly, after he had laid before them his 
 plans : " We are only eight hundred men, 
 and you ask us to attack four thousand 
 English !" They then told him plainly 
 that what he had said showed he had no 
 Reuse. They promised, however, to sleep 
 over the proposition for a night, and give 
 in their final answer next morning. Ac 
 cordingly, on the succeeding day, at an 
 early hour, De Beaujeu started out with 
 a handful of French, and, arousing the 
 Indians, asked them whether they were 
 ready to go. They answered him with 
 a very decided negative. Beaujeu, who 
 was prompt in an emergency, and ready- 
 witted, then exclaimed : " I shall go out 
 myself against the enemy; I m sure of 
 victory ! Will you allow your father to 
 go out alone ?" They then, with one ac 
 cord, answered the implied rebuke with 
 a burst of enthusiastic devotion to their 
 leader, and expressed their willingness to 
 follow him. We know the result, so fa 
 tal to Braddock and the English, and so 
 successful to the French,though it brought 
 death to the gallant De Beaujeu. Out of 
 
 the fourteen hundred and sixty English, 
 four hundred and fifty-six were killed, 
 and four hundred and twenty-one wound 
 ed ; giving a total of eight hundred an 
 seventy-seven, of whom sixty-three were 
 officers. The French only had three of 
 ficers killed and four wounded, and lost 
 besides some score of Indians and sol 
 diers. Everything in the way of baggage 
 had been lost by the English, even to 
 their personal clothing. Artillery, cattle, 
 provisions,military treasure amounting to 
 more than a hundred thousand dollars, 
 and all the private letters and despatches 
 contained in Braddock s chest, fell into 
 the hands of the French. 
 
 The conquerors shamed the chivalry 
 of their country, and their own fame, by 
 permitting the Indians to glut their sav 
 age instincts, in the torture of the Eng 
 lish prisoners. Contrecoeur and his French 
 garrison are described as having looked 
 from the bastions of the fort, if not un 
 moved, still without interference, upon a 
 terrific scene, which an observer has de 
 scribed as if K Hell had given a holiday, 
 and turned loose its inhabitants upon the 
 upper world !" Here is the spectacle, 
 with all its details of horror elaborately 
 wrought up by the fervid pen of an an 
 nalist:* 
 
 "An hour before sunset, the French 
 and Indians, returning to the fort, halted 
 within a mile s distance, and announced 
 their success by a joyful uproar, discharg 
 ing all their pieces, and giving the scalp 
 halloo. Instantly the great guns respond 
 ed, and the hills around re-echoed to their 
 
 * The History of an Expedition against FortDu Quesne 
 &c., by Winthrop Sargent, M. A. Philadelphia, 1855. 
 
84 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT 1. 
 
 roar. Pushing hastily on, the majority of 
 the savages soon appeared, blood-stained 
 and laden with scalps, and uncouthly ar 
 rayed in the spoils of the army. Tall 
 grenadiers caps surmounted their paint 
 ed faces, and the regimental colors trailed 
 disgracefully at their heels. With less 
 disordered pace the French succeeded, es 
 corting a long train of pack-horses borne 
 down with plunder. Last of all, and 
 while the parting light of day lingered 
 on the beautiful bosom of the Ohio, ap 
 peared a small party who had dallied be 
 hind to make the needful preparations 
 for the crowning scene of horror. Before 
 them, stripped perfectly naked, their faces 
 blackened and their hands bound behind 
 their backs, with reluctant steps were 
 driven twelve British regulars, on whom 
 God s sun had shone for the last time. 
 
 u Delirious with excitement, their bar 
 barous conquerors could hardly wait for 
 the tardy night., to consummate their un 
 hallowed joy. A stake was at once sunk 
 on the opposite bank of the Alleghany, 
 whither the crew repaired ; the prisoners 
 lost in dumb sorrow at the surprising fate 
 which they now began to comprehend. 
 Here, one by one, they were given to 
 the most cruel and lingering of deaths. 
 Bound to the post under the eyes of their 
 remaining comrades and of the French 
 garrison, who crow T ded the ramparts to 
 behold the scene, they were slowly roast- 
 ed alive ! Coals from an adjacent fire 
 were first applied to various parts of the 
 victim s person. Sharp splinters of light, 
 dry pine-wood were thrust into his flesh, 
 and ignited, to consume and crackle be 
 neath the skin, causing the most exquis 
 
 ite tortures. His trunk was seared with 
 red-hot gun-barrels ; blazing brands w r ere 
 thrust into his mouth and nostrils ; boil 
 ing whiskey was poured in flames down 
 his throat; and deep gashes made in his 
 body, to receive burning coals. His eye 
 balls were gradually consumed by the 
 thrusts of pointed sticks or the applica 
 tion of a heated ramrod ; and the warrior 
 was prized the most highly who could 
 farthest prolong sensibility in his prey, 
 and extract a renewed cry of anguish 
 from the wretch who had almost ceased 
 to suffer his weary soul hanging upon 
 his trembling lips willing to take its 
 leave, but not suffered to depart ! The 
 last expedient was generally to scalp the 
 poor creature, and on his bare, palpita 
 ting brain, flash gunpowder or throw a 
 handful of live embers ! . . . . The horrors 
 of this night endured till dawn." 
 
 After Braddock s death, Colonel Dun- 
 bar, who had succeeded to the chief com 
 mand, seemed to have lost all self-posses 
 sion, and, without regard to duty or to 
 the consequences of its neglect, began 
 and continued one of the most disgrace 
 ful retreats on record. If he had made 
 a stand upon the frontier, and reassured 
 his troops, it would not have been diffi 
 cult, with reinforcements from the prov 
 inces, to have again marched upon Fort 
 Du Quesne ; and probably, with the ben 
 efit of the experience of Braddock s dis 
 astrous faults, the English would have 
 struck a successful blow, as the enem}^ 
 though cheered by their unexpected vic 
 tory, were awaiting in timid anxiety an 
 other attack, against which they were ill 
 prepared. Dunbar himself, however, was 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 THE EFFECT OF BRADDOCK S DISASTER. 
 
 panic-stricken, and had no control over 
 his men. He was despised by his own 
 soldiers for his cowardice ; and, as they 
 neither feared nor respected, they would 
 not obey him. The consequences showed 
 themselves in the retreat, in which the 
 soldiers, loosened from all control, wan 
 dered at their will over the country, and 
 devastated it with a wantonness which 
 left its inhabitants nothing to dread from 
 an enemy. 
 
 The provinces were not prepared to 
 hear of Braddock s defeat. They were, 
 in fact, so confident of victory, that in 
 Philadelphia they had begun to prepare 
 for its celebration. The preliminary sub 
 scription had even begun to circulate, 
 when the shrewd Franklin threw the wet 
 blanket of his prudence upon the scheme, 
 and effectually put out the kindling en 
 thusiasm of his fellow-citizens. " I looked 
 grave," Franklin writes, in his own ac 
 count of the premature affair, " and said 
 it would, I thought, be time enough to 
 prepare the rejoicing when we knew we 
 should have occasion to rejoice. They 
 seemed surprised that I did not immedi 
 ately comply with their proposal. Why, 
 the devil ! said one of them, you surely 
 don t suppose that the fort will not be 
 taken? I don t know that it will not 
 be taken ; but I know that the events of 
 war are subject to great uncertainty. " 
 
 Governor Morris, who, while on the 
 frontier, supervising the construction of 
 the Pennsylvania road, had learned the 
 melancholy news, hastened to Philadel 
 phia to carry it, but on his arrival was 
 insulted for venturing to give out that 
 General Braddock was defeated ! The 
 
 people began, however, to suspect 
 truth when the frightened fugitives came 
 in, one after another, and told with trem 
 bling lips the story of the disaster. And 
 yet they were not finally persuaded of 
 the fact until Braddock s own messengers 
 passed from post to post, from tavern to 
 tavern, from a The Whip" to the "Indian 
 Queen," with that open letter, which au 
 thoritatively published the catastrophe. 
 
 Dunbar himself finally came in with 
 his fifteen hundred men, and tookmp his 
 winter-quarters in Philadelphia in mid 
 summer, where we hear of him and his 
 gallant officers getting up a military ball, 
 to do honor to the beauty of the Penn 
 sylvania dames. 
 
 Smollett has truly said of the French 
 success and of the English retreat : " On 
 the whole, this was perhaps the most ex 
 traordinary victory that ever was ob 
 tained, and the farthest flight that ever 
 was made." 
 
 The effect of Braddock s unfortunate 
 campaign was something far greater than 
 the loss of a battle, with its waste of life 
 and treasure. It so weakened the tie 
 between the colonies and mother-coun 
 try, that it finally gave way in the Amer 
 ican Revolution. The provinces now no 
 longer trusted to the courage and skill 
 of British regulars, and had learned to 
 confide in the strength of their own 
 forces, which had shown themselves so 
 much superior as allies, that they had no 
 reason to dread the possible position of 
 enemies. The British contempt for the 
 provincial militiaman had been proved 
 to be so little merited, that the Ameri 
 can, no longer humbled, became assured 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT 1 
 
 of his own power; while his pride, in- 
 Hamed by the humiliating treatment it 
 had received, burned to vindicate itself 
 against those who had wantonly offend 
 ed it. 
 
 Shirley, of Massachusetts, one of the 
 most energetic and able of the provincial 
 governors, had the command of the ex 
 pedition ordered for the reduction of Fort 
 Niagara. His force consisted principally 
 of the two provincial regiments of New 
 England known as those of Shirley and 
 Pepperell, both of whom had been made 
 British colonels, in reward for their ser 
 vices in the conquest of Louisburg. This 
 energetic commander had reached Alba 
 ny, and was preparing to move on to Os- 
 wego, when the news of Braddock s mis 
 fortune reached him, and struck a panic 
 to the hearts of his men. Many of his 
 troops deserted him, and all the native 
 boatmen and fur-hunters whom he had 
 engaged to man his batteaux for the con 
 veyance of his force and its supplies west 
 ward, fled away, and could not be pre- 
 
 Aiiff, 18, 
 
 vailed upon to return. Shirley, however, 
 with the remnant left him, boldly pushed 
 on, and, being reinforced by a detach 
 ment of Royal artillery spared him from 
 the troops disheartened by the defeat of 
 Braddock and the inglorious retreat of 
 Dunbar, reached Oswe^o, with 
 
 O 7 
 
 some hope of a successful at 
 tempt on Niagara. At Oswego, on the 
 southeast side of Lake Ontario, there was 
 a fortified trading-post in the English in 
 terest. Here it was hoped to obtain a 
 large accession of Indians ; but these wa 
 ry savages, having heard of the French 
 success on the Monongahela, were not 
 disposed to join those whom they be 
 lieved to belorig to the weaker party. 
 Deprived of this Indian aid, and finding 
 the season advanced and provisions scan 
 ty, Shirley was forced to return from Os 
 wego, without proceeding to Niagara. 
 He, however, strengthened the Oswego 
 fort, and left a garrison of seven hundred 
 men, under Mercer, for its more effectual 
 protection against the French. 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 COLONEL WILLIAM JOHNSON. 
 
 87 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Colonel William Johnson at Crown Point. Johnson s Career, Character, Magnificence, and LiAucnce upon his Savage 
 Dependants. His Baronial Hall and its Guests. Partial Success at Lake George. Surprise. Repulse of the French. 
 Great Rewards and Small Deeds. Johnson made a Baronet. An Indian in London. One Shilling Each Person. 
 A Spirited Subaltern. The Easy Triumph in Acadia. A Garden turned into a Desert. Trie Energy of the French. 
 The Gallant Bradstreet. His Desperate but Successful Expedition to Oswego. The Pertinacious Resistance of the 
 French. The British Government making a more Vigorous Demonstration. The Earl of Loudoun s Appointment. 
 Grand Preparations. Major-General Abercrombie arrives in Advance. Does nothing. The Earl of Loudoun ar 
 rives, and does likewise. British Contempt of Colonial Troops. The French make Great Preparations. The Mar 
 quis de Montcalrn. His Life and Character. His Heroism at Exilles. Montcalm s Energy. A Winter Attack on 
 Fort Ontario. Victory. Canadian Exultation. " Bring Lilies with Full Hands." The English in Despair. Inac 
 tivity of Lord Loudoun. The Massacre at Kittanang. 
 
 COLONEL WILLIAM JOHNSON commanded 
 the third expedition. This set out to at 
 tack the French fort at Crown Point, on 
 Lake Champlain. Johnson was selected, 
 not from any proof he had given of mili 
 tary skill, but in consequence of the won 
 derful influence he was known to possess 
 over the Indians. Having been early in 
 duced to leave his native Ireland by his 
 uncle, Admiral Warren, who had large 
 possessions in the western part of the 
 province of New York, and who wished 
 him to take charge of them, the young 
 Irishman came over to America. His 
 home was now fixed on the banks of the 
 Mohawk, then almost a wilderness, with 
 no inhabitants but the roaming Indians. 
 Johnson became fond of this wild life, 
 and sought to share with his savage 
 neighbors in their untrammelled habits. 
 
 His personal appearance as he was 
 tall, well-proportioned, and possessed of 
 <i handsome face, with an expression of 
 calm dignity such as belongs to those 
 born to command commended him at 
 once to Indian admiration, which is free 
 ly extended to those who can claim pre 
 
 tensions to manly strength and beauty. 
 He was, moreover, so cool, that he never 
 seemed to lose his self-possession; and. 
 although ordinarily a man of few words, 
 yet, when the occasion prompted, he was 
 fervid and even eloquent in speech. He 
 was fond, too, of the exciting dangers of 
 the chase. He excelled as a marksman, 
 with his rifle ; while, incapable of fatigue, 
 he could follow the game with as long 
 and untiring an endurance as that of the 
 most practised native hunter. The In 
 dians found, in these characteristics of the 
 young Irishman, so much that was con 
 genial to their own nature, that they 
 readily welcomed Johnson among them 
 as one of themselves. His powers of com 
 mand soon effected the rest ; and, from 
 appreciation of him as a companion, came 
 naturally admiration of his superior na 
 ture, and a ready subjection to his will. 
 
 With a lingering attachment, in spite 
 of his love of a forest-life, for the luxu 
 ries and comforts of civilization, he built 
 on the banks of the Mohawk two spn- 
 cious mansions, known as his castle and 
 his hall. In the former he shut himself 
 
88 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 up in the winter, and the latter was his 
 summer residence. Here he received all 
 British officers or adventurous travellers 
 whom duty or love of travel had brought 
 there, and entertained them with the free 
 hospitality of an old English baronial hall. 
 Here, too, the Indians came in tribes ; and 
 five hundred of them have been known 
 to be welcomed by him to the profuse 
 conviviality of the hall by day, and to 
 have thrown themselves at night on the 
 ground, with their liberal host in their 
 midst, and thus have slept over the effects 
 of the carouse. Johnson had won such 
 an influence over the Indians, that he 
 never feared, though the only white man 
 present, thus to trust himself unguarded 
 to his savage neighbors. With the Five 
 Nations he ruled almost supreme ; and 
 now that he was called upon to do ser 
 vice for his country, Hendrik, a Mohawk 
 chief, followed him at his bidding, with 
 three hundred warriors of his tribe. 
 
 Besides his Indian allies, Johnson had 
 mustered at Albany a large provincial 
 force, consisting of several thousand men, 
 chiefly from Connecticut and Massachu 
 setts. Most of these were sent forward, 
 to establish a post between Lake George 
 and the Hudson river. This was done, 
 and the place was called Fort Edward. 
 Johnson himself followed after with his 
 Indians and the rest of the troops, and, 
 joining the advance-party at the fort 
 which they had completed, marched on, 
 with all his force, excepting a small gar 
 rison of three hundred left to guard Fort 
 Edward. Passing through the wilderness, 
 where there was neither house nor fort, 
 Johnson halts his men on the southern 
 
 borders of a lake, to which he gives the 
 name of his sovereign, and which has ever 
 since been known as Lake George. 
 
 Bancroft, with his usual artistic skill, 
 paints a picture of the scene thus : " The 
 lake protects him on the north ; his flanks 
 are covered by a thick wood and a swamp. 
 The tents of the husbandmen and me 
 chanics, who form his summer army, are 
 spread on a rising ground ; but no forti 
 fications are raised, nor is even a trench 
 thrown up. On week-days, the men, ac 
 customed to freedom, saunter to and fro 
 in idleness ; or some, weary of inaction, 
 are ready to mutiny and go home. On 
 Sunday, all come forth and collect in the 
 groves for the worship of God ; three hun 
 dred men, also, regularly enlisted under 
 the English flag, and paid from the Eng 
 lish treasury, seat themselves on the hil 
 lock, and, while the light of a summer s 
 afternoon is shedding its sweetest influ 
 ence on the tops of the forest-clad mount 
 ains and on the still waters of the deep, 
 transparent lake, they listen gravely to 
 the interpretation of a long sermon. 
 Meanwhile, wagon after wagon brought 
 artillery, and stores and boats for the 
 troops that were listlessly whiling away 
 the season." 
 
 This idle state of existence was, how 
 ever, interrupted by the return of some 
 scouts with the intelligence that Dieskau 
 was approaching with a large force ; but 
 what were their exact numbers, the scouts 
 (who were Indians, and unable to count) 
 could not tell. Johnson now resolved 
 upon sending out a force to check the 
 French advance. Accordingly, one thou 
 sand provincials and two hundred Indians 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 JOHNSON S SMALL SUCCESS. 
 
 89 
 
 were despatched for this service, under 
 the command of Colonel Ephraim Wil 
 liams. Among his private soldiers was 
 Israel Putnam, of Connecticut, of whom, 
 in the course of our history, we shall 
 have much that is memorable to relate. 
 They had hardly gone three miles from 
 the camp on Lake George, and fairly en 
 tered the ravine through which the nar 
 row road passed, when they were at 
 tacked by the French and Indians, who 
 had awaited them in ambush among the 
 forests and wooded swamps extending on 
 either side of the long line of march. 
 With this disadvantage, the English pro 
 vincials, though they resisted bravely, 
 were utterly routed, and pursued to with 
 in a short distance of the camp, where 
 the French were brought to a check by 
 a vigorous onset of a party of three hun 
 dred men sent by Johnson to drive off 
 the pursuers. 
 
 The camp had not been intrenched. 
 So, while the enemy was brought to a 
 pause, Johnson began to prepare a tem 
 porary defence, by cutting down trees 
 and rolling them together, in order to 
 form a breastwork, behind which several 
 cannon were dragged and placed in posi 
 tion. The wagons and baggage were also 
 arranged so as to serve as a cover for 
 the provincial marksmen. 
 
 Johnson had hardly time to make 
 these hasty preparations, before Dieskau 
 and his French and Indians made a rush 
 for the camp. The English artillery now 
 began to play with such good effect, that 
 the savages were scattered at once, and 
 hid themselves in the pine-wood covert 
 on the neighboring rising ground, from 
 12 
 
 which they kept up a desultory and al 
 most harmless fire. The Frenchmen, how 
 ever, under their gallant commander, still 
 advanced in the very mouth of the can 
 non, until finally almost every man was 
 struck down, and among the foremost 
 fell the baron Dieskau himself, mortally 
 wounded. Two of his soldiers hurried 
 to his relief, and one being shot down, 
 the other was ordered away; and the 
 dying commander, crawling to the fallen 
 trunk of a tree, seated himself upon it, 
 and calmly awaited, amid a shower of 
 bullets, the issue of the struggle. The 
 result was a complete victory, the French 
 having lost no less than eight hundred 
 men, while the Americans suffered only 
 to the extent of two hundred and twenty 
 killed and nineteen wounded. Johnson 
 himself was wounded early in the strug 
 gle, and was obliged to retire to his tent. 
 Lyman, his second in command, however, 
 completed the success of the day by pur 
 suing the enemy for a short time at the 
 close with great slaughter. 
 
 The Canadians and Indians, as they 
 retreated, were met by a party of a hun 
 dred and twenty New-Hampshire men, 
 under a youth of the name of M Ginnes, 
 and, being attacked, were put to the rout, 
 although the young American leader was 
 killed. 
 
 This small success of Johnson was such 
 an exceptional case of triumph during 
 that year for the English arms in Amer 
 ica, that the British government was dis 
 posed to make the most of it. A baro 
 netcy was accordingly bestowed upon 
 Colonel Johnson, and a grant of five thou 
 sand pounds, as a reward for his services. 
 
90 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 
 
 The public interest in England in John 
 son s success was kept alive by the exag 
 gerated importance given to it by the 
 authorities ; and in this contemporary ad 
 vertisement in the Public Advertiser of the 
 year 1755, we read the appeal of a show 
 man, which illustrates the general curi 
 osity of London on the occasion: 
 
 " THE ONLY INDIAN IN ENGLAND SINCE THE 
 REIGN OF QUEEN ANNE ! 
 
 " JUST ARRIVED FROM AMERICA, and to be 
 seen at the NEW YORK AND CAPE BRETON 
 COFFEE-HOUSE, in Sweeting s Alley, from 12 
 to 3, and from 4 till 6, to the latter end 
 of next week, and then will embark for 
 America in the General Webb, Captain 
 Boardman, a famous MOHAWK INDIAN WAR 
 RIOR ! the same person who took M. DIES- 
 KAU, THE FRENCH GENERAL, prisoner at the 
 BATTLE OF LAKE GEORGE, where GENERAL 
 JOHNSON beat the French, and was one of 
 the said General s Guards. He is dressed 
 in the same manner with his native In 
 dians when they go to war ; his face and 
 body painted, with his SCALPING-KNIFE, TOM- 
 AXE, and all other implements of war that 
 are used by the Indians in battle ; a sight 
 worthy the curiosity of every TRUE BRITON. 
 
 " PRICE, one shilling each person? 
 
 The conduct of Colonel Johnson was 
 hardly such as to merit all the distinc 
 tion and public notice it received. How 
 ever brilliant his success at Lake George, 
 his proceedings afterward showed less 
 energy and spirit than might have been 
 expected from the supposed courage and 
 activity of this remarkable man. Instead 
 of pushing on, while his troops were in 
 the full tide of victory, and making a bold 
 
 stroke for the position at Crown Point, 
 which was the object of the expedition, 
 Johnson remained at L ake George. Here 
 it is true he kept his men busy, for he 
 built a fort, which he named Fort Henry, 
 and garrisoned it with a small detach 
 ment of provincial troops; he then moved 
 the main body of his forces back to Al 
 bany, and sent the men to their several 
 homes. 
 
 A spirited subaltern, of the name of 
 Rogers, who was left at Lake George, did 
 something; however, by his activity and 
 boldness, toward retrieving what was lost 
 by the remissness of Johnson. Rogers 
 made frequent sallies against the French 
 in the neighborhood of Crown Point, by 
 which he succeeded in cutting off many 
 of their detached parties, and keeping a 
 watchful eye upon their proceedings. 
 Thus, he learned that the French had 
 collected together some two thousand 
 Canadians and Indians, and a good force 
 of artillery, at Ticonderoga, situated .at 
 the northern end of Lake George, and 
 that they were busy in fortifying that 
 post. ^ 
 
 To this partial success of Johnson, the 
 British could only add that of the cruel 
 expulsion of the Acadians from Nova Sco 
 tia. It is not for us, however, to do more 
 than make a passing mention of what cer 
 tainly can not properly be included in 
 "The Battles of America." It is true 
 that New England sent its two thousand 
 men, and some heavy artillery served by 
 British regulars, to compel by force, if 
 need be, the submission of the French 
 inhabitants of the English province of 
 Nova Scotia. The troops were landed 
 
COLONIAL.J 
 
 RELIEF OF OSWEGO. 
 
 91 
 
 without interruption ; they paraded gay- 
 ly upon the shores, and, after a night s 
 quiet repose,marched deliberately against 
 the Acadians, who hardly ventured to op 
 pose them. The fort of Beausejour sur 
 rendered in four clays. That of St. John 
 was abandoned and burnt ; and the other 
 small fortresses capitulated without resist 
 ance. The inhabitants were declared trai 
 tors, their possessions forfeited, and all 
 the men, women, and children, exiled for 
 ever from their homes and their altars, 
 their gardens and their pastures ! This 
 was persecution, not war. Hate tortured 
 her victims. Courage did not strike a 
 blow. The tears of the weak and inno 
 cent were poured out. Not a drop of 
 blood was shed by the strong in the 
 might of resistance. We pass, therefore, 
 gladly from woman s tears and children s 
 cries, wrung by cruelty, to listen to the 
 shouts of men and heroes battling for 
 right or might. Our duty, thank Heav 
 en, is to record the deeds of the manly 
 brave, not the work of the inhuman per 
 secutor ! 
 
 The French were prepared to recom 
 mence hostilities with the opening of an 
 other year, and their first move 
 ment was a success. There was a 
 small English fort on the Oswego route. 
 This was now the point of attack. Three 
 hundred and fifty Canadians, under M. 
 Chaussegros de Levy, arrived before the 
 fort. Lieutenant Ball, in command, with 
 two dozen men, was summoned to sur 
 render. He refused, determined to resist 
 to the last. The French began their at- 
 tack, and overpowered their handful of 
 opponents, who, with the exception of 
 
 two, were mercilessly scalped by the 
 French savages. 
 
 Another expedition from Canada now 
 set out to attack the provincial fort at 
 Oswego ; but, before reaching it, the 
 French halted at a short distance, and 
 erected a small fortification of their own, 
 so hid in the forest as to be unseen by 
 their opponents ; and thus succeeded in 
 greatly harassing them, by cutting off 
 supplies and preventing reinforcements. 
 LieutenantrColonel Bradstreet, who had 
 w r on the confidence of Sir William Pep- 
 perell in the famous siege of Louisburg, 
 by his prowess, now went to the rescue 
 of Oswego. His men were chiefly raw 
 Irish recruits, but Bradstreet knew how 
 to control their irregular impulses, and 
 succeeded in getting a great deal of ef 
 fective work out of them. He succeeded 
 in reaching Oswego, and supplying the 
 garrison with provisions. A French force 
 of seven hundred men tried to intercept 
 him, but, having lost their way in the for 
 est, did not discover, until it was too late, 
 that Bradstreet was in advance of them. 
 They now determined to lay in wait for 
 him on his return. 
 
 Bradstreet, having relieved Oswego, 
 now commenced to retrace his steps. 
 His route lay by the river Onondaga, on 
 the banks of which the French had con 
 cealed themselves, awaiting his approach. 
 He, either conscious of this danger, or 
 from his experience of American warfare 
 became exceedingly wary, and hit upon 
 an excellent expedient for avoiding the 
 dangers of an ambuscade. Bradstreet 
 accordingly took the precaution of divi 
 ding his men into three parties, each one 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART I. 
 
 of which was placed in a separate fleet 
 of canoes, which were ordered to ascend 
 the Onondaga at small distances apart. 
 In this way, if one party was attacked 
 suddenly, the others might come up pre 
 pared to sustain it. Bradstreet himself 
 took the lead, in the very first canoe ; 
 the others followed after, bold and eager 
 enough for a fight ; and it was with the 
 greatest difficulty that their prudent lead 
 er could keep the Irish blood of his men 
 sufficiently cool for the discreet conduct 
 that was necessary. 
 
 Bradstreet s experience in border war 
 fare led him to expect, at any moment, 
 to see the flash of the Canadian musket, 
 or hear the war-whoop of the savage, from 
 the dark clumps of cedars, and the crags 
 of the rugged banks which bordered the 
 river.* It was on the 3d of July when 
 they embarked. The stream was low, 
 and difficult of navigation ; and the trees 
 and underwood, luxuriant with their mid 
 summer foliage, afforded complete con 
 cealment to the enemy. For a length of 
 nine miles the canoes were forced up the 
 Onondaga with great toil, but with no 
 interference. They had thus reached a 
 point where there was a small island sur 
 rounded by rapids, and the banks of the 
 river were thickly shaded by a dense for 
 est-growth, when suddenly a volley of 
 musketry and an Indian war-whoop burst 
 through the silence of the wilderness. 
 The effect upon those in the advance- 
 canoes was terribly fatal ; but Bradstreet 
 and six of his men pushed at once for 
 the island, where a score of the enemy, 
 
 * The Conquest of Canada, by the Author of " Hochela- 
 ga," &c. New York : Plarper and Brothers. 
 
 having plunged into the river and made 
 their way through a ford, had arrived be 
 fore him. So spirited, however, was the 
 onset of the colonel and his half-dozen 
 men, that he succeeded in driving back 
 the enemy to the mainland. 
 
 The French, however, now came up 
 again to the attack with increased num 
 bers. Bradstreet, too, in the meantime 
 had been reinforced by fourteen other 
 men, who had just landed from those ca 
 noes w r hich had brought up the rear of 
 the advance-party. The French were 
 forced again to retire ; and, renewing for 
 a third time the attack, with more men 
 still, a fierce struggle ensued, which last 
 ed nearly an hour. Bradstreet w r as again 
 victorious, and with his twenty men suc 
 ceeded in putting to a complete rout all 
 who were left of the seventy Frenchmen 
 who had attempted to dislodge him from 
 the island. 
 
 The rest of Bradstreet s forces had land 
 ed on the shore lower down, and were 
 marching to the relief of their comrades 
 on the island. The main body of the 
 French, observing this movement, crossed 
 the stream, to prevent the junction. But 
 Bradstreet, having now succeeded in beat 
 ing off the enemy s attack on the island, 
 was free to join the rest of his troops 
 which he succeeded in doing, and led 
 them with a vigorous onslaught against 
 the main body of the French, who were 
 forced back into the river. Many fell 
 dead before the brisk fire of Bradstreet s 
 men, but many more were drowned in 
 their attempts to cross the river. 
 
 The enemy, in spite of these repeated 
 defeats, still pertinaciously prolonged the 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 BRADSTREET S VICTORY. 
 
 93 
 
 struggle. A number, while Bradstreet 
 was below, on the mainland, began to 
 cross the ford below, near the small isl 
 and ; but they had hardly reached the 
 opposite bank, and made ready for an 
 attack, when the English came rushing 
 down, and with one impulsive effort drove 
 them back into the stream. The French 
 lost more than a hundred men, who were 
 either shot or drowned, while seventy 
 were taken prisoners. The loss of Brad- 
 street, too, was no less than sixty killed 
 or wounded. 
 
 The English troops were too much fa 
 tigued to continue the pursuit immedi 
 ately; and when, next morning, they 
 were reinforced by a company of grena 
 diers on their way to Oswego, and some 
 two hundred men besides who had come 
 to their aid from that fort, Bradstreet 
 found that the Onondaga was so flooded 
 with the pouring rain during the night, 
 that it would be quite impracticable to 
 follow the enemy. The company of gren 
 adiers, therefore, accompanied the detach 
 ment from the fort back to Oswego, and 
 Bradstreet with the rest of his forces went 
 on his way to Albany. 
 
 The British government, having now 
 at last declared an open war against the 
 French, was disposed to carry on 
 hostilities in America with greater 
 vigor. The earl of Loudoun, a great 
 stickler for the prerogatives of the crown, 
 and a proportionate opponent of all co 
 lonial disenthralment, was sent out to 
 America, with unusual powers. Pie was 
 made general-in-chief of all the forces on 
 the American continent, and colonel of a 
 regiment of four battalions, to be corn- 
 
 June. 
 
 posed principally of the Swiss and Ger 
 man Protestants in America, and to be 
 commanded by officers of their own na 
 tive countries. To give additional dig 
 nity to his lordship s appointment, he was 
 also made governor of Virginia. 
 
 Previous, however, to the setting out 
 of the earl of Loudoun, Major-General 
 Abercrombie had been ordered to pre 
 cede him, and hold the command until 
 his lordship s arrival. Abercrombie was 
 now at Albany, with four regiments of 
 British regulars, two of which 
 had accompanied him from Eng 
 land, the New-England battalions, eight 
 independent companies, and a large body 
 of provincial militia, making all together 
 the formidable army, for those days, of 
 ten thousand men. At Albany, too, was 
 assembled the council of governors from 
 the various provinces, to confer with the 
 British general in regard to the plans of 
 a campaign against the French in Amer 
 ica. Abercrombie resisted the urgent ap 
 peals of the council to carry out a scheme 
 of general attack, on the plea that his 
 force was not sufficiently large for so ex 
 tensive an undertaking. He, therefore, 
 declined to act on his own responsibility, 
 and determined to await the arrival of 
 his superior in command, the earl of Lou 
 doun. He, however, was prevailed upon 
 to send General Winslow, with the pro 
 vincial forces, to the English fort William 
 Henry, on Lake George, where he was 
 to await reinforcements, and then march 
 against the French post at Crown Point, 
 on Lake Cham plain. 
 
 On the arrival of the brave Bradstreet 
 at Albany, he hurried to the quarters of 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 fl ART I. 
 
 General Abercrombie, and, giving in the 
 report of his own successes, laid before 
 him the dangerous position of Oswego, 
 and earnestly urged the necessity of de 
 spatching immediate relief. The British 
 officer, Colonel Webb, was accordingly 
 ordered to hold himself in readiness to 
 march with his regiment on this service ; 
 but, for some reason or other, a long and 
 fatal delay ensued. The provincial coun 
 cil and Abercrombie were supposed to 
 be at loggerheads. The former declared 
 for Crown Point : the latter favored the 
 march to Oswego. So, to settle the dif 
 ference, nothing was done. 
 
 Lord Loudoun now arrived at 
 Albany, and assumed command 
 at once ; but, full of his own dignity, and 
 reserved in his communications with oth 
 ers, he would listen to no suggestions 
 from those who knew so much of a coun 
 try about which he knew so little. He 
 had the proverbial contempt of his coun 
 trymen for the colonies, and had no faith 
 either in the wisdom of the colonial gov 
 ernor or the courage of the colonial sol 
 dier. The force at Albany was large 
 amounting, as we have seen, to ten thou 
 sand men ; but more than half of these 
 were provincials "mostly vagabonds 
 picked up by the New-Englanders at ran 
 dom," wrote Abercrombie, who exclaimed, 
 " With such troops, what can we do ?" 
 Loudoun no doubt echoed, with fellow- 
 contempt, these opinions so disparaging 
 to the colonists. They could not learn the 
 simple lesson of experience, which, if they 
 had, would have taught them that all the 
 victories had been w r on in these colonial 
 battles by the " vagabonds," while the de 
 
 feats were to be set down to the boasted 
 " regulars." Abercrombie did nothing; : 
 
 o CD 
 
 Lord Loudoun did no more. 
 
 The French, however, were not inac 
 tive. The court at Versailles had sent 
 out a considerable force of regulars to 
 America, under the command of the mar 
 quis de Montcalm. A better leader could 
 not have been chosen. Montcalm had a 
 wise head and a dauntless spirit. Born 
 of a noble family, he had inherited the 
 traditional chivalry of his race. On his 
 escutcheon he bore the motto of " Extin 
 guisher of the Dragon," as a perpetual 
 record, handed down from generation to 
 generation, of the prowess of an ances 
 tral Templar of St. John, who had deliv 
 ered the isle of Rhodes from the ravages 
 of some mysterious monster. He was de 
 scended from a long line of heroes, and 
 w r as destined to illustrate, in his own ca 
 reer the heroic temperament of his fain- 
 
 ily. 
 
 His education was carefully conducted 
 by a distinguished man of science, who 
 bore the name of Dumas. Under his tui 
 tion, the young Montcalm was so endued 
 with a love of study, that, although he 
 entered the army at the early age of four 
 teen, he preserved his taste for science 
 and literature amid all the tumultuous 
 life of the camp, and became remarkable 
 for his mental acquirements. 
 
 Montcalm s military career was rapidly 
 made brilliant by his gallant behavior. 
 He was wounded three times at the bat 
 tle of Plaisance, and twice in the heroic 
 struo-o-le at Exilles. This latter was the 
 
 Oo 
 
 battle where was enacted a scene that 
 has only been paralleled since by the 
 
COLONIAL. J 
 
 CHARACTER OF MONTCALM. 
 
 charge of the English "Light-Brigade" 
 at Balaklava, when 
 
 " Into the valley of Death 
 Rode the six hundred !" 
 
 The count of Belleisle had been prom 
 ised the baton of a marshal if he should 
 succeed in the campaign in Piedmont. 
 Meeting the enemy at Exilles, the count 
 began an imprudent attack, which result 
 ed in the defeat of the French. He felt 
 so greatly the ill success of an attempt 
 which had been disapproved of by all 
 experience, that in his desperation he 
 put himself at the head of his officers, 
 and led them in a column against the 
 intrenchments Avithin which the enemy 
 had withdrawn ! Few only escaped. 
 Belleisle himself, wounded in both hands, 
 madly strove to tear down with his teeth 
 the palisades of the wall, when he re 
 ceived a mortal shot. Montcalm was one 
 of this heroic brigade, which, true to dis 
 cipline, obeyed even the insane command 
 of their leader. 
 
 But a few years past forty, Montcalm, 
 although full of the enterprising spirit 
 of youth, was, from his long service in 
 the army, a veteran in experience. He 
 was short in person, but of a wiry struc 
 ture. Active, and of great powers of en 
 durance, he possessed all the gay vivaci 
 ty 6f his countrymen, and was lively in 
 times of social enjoyment as he was all 
 activity in business. He was quick to 
 observe, and bold and prompt in action. 
 He soon proved that he was the right 
 man in the right place. 
 
 There was no dilly-dallying about Mont 
 calm. He had not been at Quebec a week 
 before he was ready to set out with his 
 
 Aug. 12. 
 
 French troops for Oswego, which had 
 been so disgracefully neglected by the 
 dilatory Abercrombie and the self-suffi 
 cient Lord Loudoun. De Vaudreuil was 
 sent in advance with a considerable force 
 of Canadian militia, raised at Montreal. 
 Montcalm was not long behind him, with 
 his regulars, and ready to commence op 
 erations. The French commander s first 
 object was to attack Fort Ontario, which 
 was situated on the river Onondaga, at 
 its mouth, where it empties into Lake 
 Ontario, and opposite to the more im 
 portant Fort Oswego. Here accordingly 
 he opened his trenches at once, 
 and, with his usual promptness, 
 beginning at the dawn of day, succeeded 
 in overcoming the resistance of the be 
 sieged before nightfall. Taking posses 
 sion of Fort Ontario, from which the gar 
 rison had fled to Oswego, without spiking 
 all the cannon in their hurry, Montcalm 
 turned the remaining guns with great ef 
 fect upon the fort opposite. It w r as not 
 long before the walls of Oswego gave 
 way ; and the English seeing, with their 
 leader Mercer struck down, and a breach 
 made in their fortress, no hope of a longer 
 resistance, capitulated. 
 
 The victory for the French was a great 
 one. They became possessed of an im 
 portant post, took captive twelve hundred 
 prisoners, and obtained several armed ves 
 sels, two hundred batteaux, and a vast 
 quantity of treasure, military stores, and 
 provisions. They made the most of their 
 triumph, sending the British flags to be 
 hung in the churches of Quebec and Mon 
 treal; erecting crosses at Oswego, with 
 the inscription, " This is the banner of 
 
9G 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART r. 
 
 victory;" and raising triumphant columns, 
 upon which their joy was illustrated^ by 
 the exultant words, carved in stone 
 " Bring lilies with full hands !" 
 
 Montcalm razed the fort at Oswego to 
 the ground, and began a desolating inarch 
 eastward, burning the dwellings and the 
 crops of the frontier settlers of New York, 
 and killing and scalping all the unfortu 
 nate inhabitants he met. Colonel Webb, 
 in the meantime, with his seventeen hun 
 dred men, who had been kept back until 
 it was too late to render any service to 
 the neglected fort at Oswego, was slowly 
 making his way, until he heard of the 
 French success, when he precipitately 
 took to flight. Walpole might well say, 
 when this disastrous news reached Eng 
 land : " The negligence and dilatoriness 
 of our government at home, and the lit 
 tle-minded quarrels between the regular 
 and irregular forces, have reduced our af 
 fairs in that part of the world [America] 
 to a most deplorable state. Oswego, of 
 ten times more importance even than Mi 
 norca, is so annihilated, that we can not 
 learn the particulars." 
 
 Something was naturally expected from 
 the expedition of General Winslow, an 
 able officer, who had acquired great re 
 nown in the siege of Louisburg; but, al 
 though the French fort at Crown Point, 
 on Lake Cham plain, was its original des 
 tination, it got no farther than the Eng 
 lish forts Edward and William Henry. 
 
 i/ 
 
 These Winslow strengthened by leaving 
 a portion of his force ; but was prevented 
 from striking a blow against the enemy 
 by the inactivity and pusillanimous con 
 duct of his superiors. Lord Loudoun 
 
 having so far done nothing, now seemed 
 resolved to do nothing for the future ; 
 and, after an inglorious inactivity at Al 
 bany, he sent the provincials to their sev 
 eral homes. 
 
 The English colonists obtained some 
 consolation for their repeated ill fortune, 
 by a small success against the Indian 
 town of Kittanang, lying in a valley 
 among the Alleghanies. This was the 
 nest of a horde of Indian savages, who 
 had stolen upon the English settlers scat 
 tered about the western frontier, and mas 
 sacred a thousand of them. About three 
 hundred men now hurriedly collected to 
 gether, and, choosing one Armstrong for 
 their leader, determined to revenge the 
 merciless murder of their countrymen. 
 They pushed on, forgetting the fatigues 
 and perils of the hard and dangerous road 
 of some hundred and fifty miles in length, 
 in their eagerness for revenge. On arri 
 ving at the Indian settlement at night, 
 they heard the savage murderers exult 
 ing, in songs and dances, over their late 
 massacre. Armstrong awaited until dawn 
 the next morning, when, suddenly pre 
 senting himself, he offered the Indians 
 quarter, on their immediately surrender 
 ing. The savages dared not accept it ; 
 and then the provincials began an attack, 
 which resulted in a slaughter and a cru 
 elty that could have only been equalled 
 by the Indians themselves. Some of the 
 savages were shot, some beaten down 
 with the butt-ends of muskets, some shut 
 up in their huts and burned to death, 
 some blown up with gunpowder, and 
 others seized and scalped as the Indians 
 themselves would have seized and scalped 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 ACTIVITY OF MONTCALM. 
 
 97 
 
 the English if they had been victims in 
 stead of avengers. 
 
 This was one of the pitiful successes 
 
 which were to weigh against the prepon 
 derating victories of the French during 
 the whole campaign of 1756. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A North -American Winter. Montcalrn s Vigor. Attack upon Fort William Henry. Repulse. Lord Loudoun s Great 
 Means and Small Results. Sails with a Great Fleet to Halifax. Does nothing. Success of Montcalm against Fort 
 William Henry. Lord Loudoun returns to New York. England in Despair. Pitt comes to the Rescue. The Right 
 Men in the Right Place. Amherst. Boscawen. James Wolfe. His Life, Character, and Personal Appearance. 
 The Expedition against Louisburg. Wolfe the first to land. The French repulsed from the Shore. Cooke the Navi 
 gator. Victory at Louisburg. Wolfe returns Home ill. Seeks Employment in the next American Campaign. Pitt s 
 Liberal Measures toward Provincial Officers. Abercrombie succeeds Lord London in Command in America. An 
 Immense Provincial Force marches against the French Fort of Ticonderoga. Surprised by the French. Death of the 
 Gallant and Youthful Lord Howe. Grief at his Full. Failure of the Attack upon Ticonderoga. Bradstreet s Expe 
 dition. Its Success. The Expedition against Du Quesne. The Highlanders. A Celt in Kilt taken for an Indian. 
 A Catastrophe. The Highlanders in Difficulty. A Canny Scot gets the Advantage of the Indians. Escapes Torture 
 Fort Du Quesne abandoned. Washington plants the British Flag. Pittsburg. 
 
 1757, 
 
 WITH the successes of the previ 
 ous year, the French, under the 
 ever vigilant and active Montcalm, were 
 emboldened to begin 1757 with great 
 vigor. It was January. Canada was 
 bound with the fetters of winter. The 
 waves of those great inland seas, the 
 northern lakes, were stilled. The rivers 
 ceased to flow. The waters everywhere 
 had turned to ice. The snow covered 
 the mountain-tops, and filled in the val 
 leys. Fields, roads, and by-paths, had 
 departed with the life of the year, and 
 were now overspread with the universal 
 shroud of winter. The smoke of a few 
 hamlets, under the cover of the hillsides, 
 scattered distantly over the wide, wintry 
 expanse, betokened the existence of oc 
 casional home warmth and comfort but 
 for the most part the scene was one of 
 universal wintry desolation. 
 
 It was not in the nature of Montcalrn s 
 13 
 
 active spirit to grow torpid, even under 
 the influence of a North-American win 
 ter. In the very depth of this season of 
 frost and snow, he determined to send a 
 force against the English fort William 
 Henry, at the southern end of Lake 
 George. Fifteen hundred men, four hun 
 dred of whom were Indians, were accord 
 ingly selected for this service, and placed 
 under the command of Rigaud de Vau- 
 dreuil. 
 
 The route was a long one. One hun 
 dred and fifty miles were to be travelled 
 before reaching the fort. Sledges were 
 made ready, and dogs harnessed to them 
 with thongs, as in the arctic regions, to 
 drag the provisions and stores through 
 the snow and over the ice. Each man 
 was clad like an Esquimaux, in furs, and 
 given a leathern mask to protect his face 
 from the fatal touch of the biting wind 
 and the frost, and a bearskin within which 
 
98 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [_PART 1. 
 
 to enfold himself when encamped at night 
 upon the snow. Thus equipped., they set 
 out, passing rapidly over the frozen sur 
 face of Lake Champlain and of Lake 
 George with their sledges and their snow- 
 shoes. As they approach the English 
 fort, they await the coming of night, and 
 are more cautious in their movements. 
 Pioneers are sent in advance, with axes 
 in hand, to try the strength of the ice, 
 and to guide the force in safety to the 
 walls of the enemy. With cautious steps 
 they reach the spot in the dead of night, 
 and are lifting the scaling-ladders against 
 the fortifications, when the sentry ob 
 serves them, and gives the alarm. The 
 garrison are in a moment on their de 
 fence, and, with a brisk volley from their 
 cannon and musketry, drive back the as 
 sailants. 
 
 Next morning the French renew the 
 attack, but without effect ; and again 
 make an attempt later in the day, but 
 are once more driven back. They now 
 summon the officer in command, a Major 
 Eyres, to surrender. He resolutely re 
 fuses. The French continue the assault, 
 and, after making in all five unsuccessful 
 efforts, they give up in despair. The 
 stronghold can not be taken. The ene 
 my, however, revenged themselves for 
 their repulse, by destroying such out 
 works of the fort as were within their 
 reach. Vaudreuil now sent reinforce 
 ments to the French forts at Ticondero- 
 ga, Crown Point, and Niagara, and then 
 returned to Montreal. 
 
 The garrison at Fort William Henry 
 does not allow the winter to pass in idle 
 ness. Its rangers accordingly sally out, 
 
 under the gallant subaltern Stark, and 
 succeed in falling in with sledges on their 
 route, with men and provisions, for the 
 French forts. Stark, with some seventy 
 men, takes a party thus by surprise, at 
 tacks them, and comes off victorious. He 
 is, however, intercepted by a considera 
 ble force on his return to the fort, with 
 his prisoners and booty, and a third of 
 his adventurous rangers are laid low ; 
 but Stark and the survivors so gallantly 
 defend themselves, that the enemy are 
 obliged to re-treat, and the English come 
 off with all the glory. 
 
 Lord Loudoun, having done nothing 
 where he could do something, now un 
 dertook to do something where he could 
 do nothing. Taking a large provincial 
 force from the colonies, where they wer^ 
 needed, he embarked them on board ai 
 Eno-lish fleet consisting of numerous men- 
 
 o o 
 
 of-war and transports,and sailed with them 
 to Halifax, in Nova Scotia. With nine 
 teen ships-of-the-line and a large number 
 of smaller vessels in that harbor, and no 
 less than thirteen battalions of troops 
 landed after a prosperous voyage, Lou 
 doun was in a condition to have under 
 taken anything, no matter how formida 
 ble. The time was, nevertheless, wasted 
 in parade and mock-fights. Louisburg, 
 which, after the famous conquest by Sir 
 William Pepperell, had been ceded to 
 France, was supposed to be the object 
 of attack of this magnificent armament. 
 News arriving, however, to the effect that 
 the French, with some three thousand 
 troops, a considerable body of Indians 
 and militiamen, and a fleet of eighteen 
 ships-of-the-line, were prepared to defend 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 FALL OF FORT WILLIAM HENRY. 
 
 99 
 
 themselves, it was determined by the pru 
 dent Loudoun to postpone the attempt 
 upon Louisburg. 
 
 When Loudoun sailed away from the 
 place where he was most wanted, Mont- 
 calm took occasion to avail himself of his 
 absence, by making an attack upon Fort 
 William Henry, on Lake George. Gath 
 ering some eight thousand men at the 
 French fort at Ticonderoga, he marched 
 with his usual rapidity against Fort Wil 
 liam Henry, and met with a brave resist 
 ance from the English commander, Mun- 
 ro, who, to a haughty demand to surren 
 der, answered thus spiritedly : " I will 
 defend my trust to the last extremity !" 
 It was, however, in vain. The English, 
 disappointed in their hope of relief from 
 the timid Webb, who was running away, 
 instead of coming to their assistance, were 
 obliged to capitulate. 
 
 Lord Loudoun, while at Halifax in a 
 state of inaction, heard this disastrous 
 news of the capture of Fort William Hen 
 ry, and immediately returned,with a large 
 proportion of his troops, to New York ; 
 but, with what purpose, it would be diffi 
 cult to conjecture. He left the English 
 admiral at Halifax ; but that officer did 
 nothing but sail to Louisburg and back 
 again. When this intelligence reached 
 England, Walpole wrote, on the 3d day 
 of September, 1757: "We had a torrent 
 of bad news yesterday from America. 
 Lord Loudoun has found an army of 
 Iwenty thousand French, gives over the 
 design on Louisburg, and retires to Hali 
 fax. Admiral Holborne writes that they 
 have nineteen ships to his seventeen, and 
 that he can not attack them. It is time 
 
 for England to slip her own cables, and 
 float away into some unknown sea." 
 
 Lord Loudoun arrived at New York, 
 and thence made his way to Fort Edward, 
 the only northern post left to the Eng 
 lish. Here he gave some directions for 
 defence, and prudently retired to Albany. 
 Nothing, however, was done ; and the 
 British people and the British govern 
 ment became aware at last that, without 
 some change in men and measures, Brit 
 ish dominion in the West would be lost 
 to them for ever. 
 
 " My lord, I am sure that I can save 
 this country, and that no one else can !" 
 were the proud, self-reliant words of the 
 great commoner, William Pitt. His coun 
 try took him at his word ; and, with the 
 power to execute what his comprehen 
 sive genius had conceived, he made good 
 his grand promise. The incapable duke 
 of Newcastle, deserted by Fox, Avas forced 
 to let drop from his feeble hands the 
 reins of government. Fox himself now 
 strove to form a ministry ; but, with all 
 his great talents, he felt himself incapa 
 ble of the charge of administration with 
 out the aid of Pitt, and solicited his alli 
 ance. The " great commoner," however, 
 rejected all overtures from his superior, 
 in wealth and rank, but by far his in 
 ferior in moral influence. Pitt, conscious 
 of the faith of the British nation in him, 
 and him alone, was determined to share 
 with no other the glory of delivering that 
 nation from her agony of shame and dis 
 grace. 
 
 "Whoever is in or whoever is out," 
 writes Lord Chesterfield, in despair of 
 his country, " I am sure we are undone, 
 
100 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 I PART 1. 
 
 both at home and abroad : at home, by 
 our increasing debt and expenses; abroad, 
 
 by our ill luck and incapacity The 
 
 French are masters to do what they please 
 in America. We are no longer a nation. 
 I never yet saw so dreadful a prospect." 
 The British people, however, still had a 
 hope : that hope was William Pitt. The 
 lords were in despair, and yet resisted, 
 in their mad pride of birth, the aid of a 
 commoner. But such was the resolute 
 will of the nation to be governed by Pitt, 
 that king and peers were obliged to yield, 
 and suffer him to take hold of the helm 
 and guide the ship of state. 
 
 With Pitt s administration began a new 
 era for British arms in America. His first 
 act was to get rid of the incapables, and 
 to put the right men in the right place. 
 The weak and capriciousLoudoun,aswell 
 as the over-cautious and inactive Admi 
 ral Holborne, were recalled, and men of 
 sterner stuff sent to America to replace 
 them. Amherst, the resolutely brave, the 
 spiritedly active, and the coolly judicious, 
 was, in spite of the formalities of milita 
 ry precedence, promoted to the rank of 
 major-general, and given the command 
 of the land-forces destined for America. 
 Boscawen, a dashing naval officer, of 
 known skill and courage, was made admi 
 ral of the fleet then off Halifax, in Nova 
 Scotia. 
 
 Louisburg was marked out in the plan 
 of the campaign as the first object of at- 
 tack. Amherst sailed with a large arma- 
 ment on the 19th of February for 
 Halifax, but was delayed in his 
 voyage by storms and unfavorable winds, 
 and did not arrive off that port until the 
 
 Juiie 2. 
 
 28th of May, when he met the impatient 
 Boscawen coining out, with all his ships, 
 on his way to Louisburg. 
 
 The two forces, land and naval, thus 
 combined, presented a formidable array. 
 There floated the grand fleet, with twen 
 ty-two ships-of-the-line, fifteen frigates, 
 and one hundred and twenty smaller ves 
 sels. There gathered the eleven thou 
 sand six hundred troops, mostly British 
 regulars, with their battalions of infantry, 
 their formidable artillery, and their skil 
 ful engineers. Amherst s land-force was 
 divided into three brigades, under the sev 
 eral commands of the brigadier-generals 
 Whitmore, Lawrence, and Wolfe. This 
 effective armament now sailed 
 for Cape Breton, and in a few 
 days reached Gabarus bay, within can 
 non-shot of Louisburg. 
 
 There was one in this expedition whose 
 subsequent career of heroism entitles him 
 to more than a mere enumeration among 
 a list of other gallant officers. This was 
 Wolfe. 
 
 JAMES WOLFE was the son of a soldier. 
 His father had won an honorable name 
 as an officer under Marlborough. The 
 elder Wolfe had sought after his mar 
 riage with a Miss Thompson, the sister 
 of the member of Parliament for York 
 a temporary retreat in the neighborhood 
 of that city, in the quiet village of West- 
 erham. Here his son was born, on the 
 2d of January, 1727, at the modest vicar 
 age-house, which the father had rented 
 for his temporary residence. At West- 
 erham the young Wolfe was sent to a 
 good private school, where he remained 
 until he was fourteen years of age. As 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 JAMES WOLFE. 
 
 101 
 
 a boy, he was spirited and clever, but not 
 remarkable for his devotion to work. 
 
 His father being now ordered to join 
 Lord Cathcart s expedition to Flanders, 
 he took with him his son, although but 
 fourteen years of age. On the journey, 
 the lad, who was always feeble in health, 
 fell ill, and was landed at Portsmouth. 
 In a short time, however, he recovered 
 his strength, and rejoined his father at 
 the camp, where he entered at once with 
 youthful ardor upon all the duties of a 
 military life. A commission was secured 
 for him, and the boy of fourteen became 
 an officer in a battalion of marines as 
 early as 1741. In another year he was 
 made ensign, and then fought his first 
 battle at Dettingen. In 1 743, he becomes 
 a lieutenant, and is engaged in active ser 
 vice in Flanders. He next receives the 
 command of a company, and we hear of 
 the youthful officer fighting under the 
 duke of Cumberland at Fontenoy, and 
 redeeming, by his gallant behavior, in 
 common with the other British officers, 
 the misfortunes of that day. 
 
 The young Wolfe s merit was so obvi 
 ous, that nothing could resist his advance 
 ment, and he was rapidly promoted. Ev 
 ery step he took in rank was more than 
 justified by his progress in the path of 
 glory. A major under Cumberland at 
 the battle of Feldt, his conduct was so 
 admirable, that his general-officer loudly 
 (hanked him, in the presence of the whole 
 army, on the battle-field. 
 
 Pitt, who was ever alive to merit, had 
 his eye upon young Wolfe, who plucked 
 fresh laurels on every occasion. It was 
 not only that the youthful officer was 
 
 1757, 
 
 dashingly gallant in battle, but he was 
 remarkable for his judgment, and the 
 careful study of his art. He was, more 
 over, not purely a professional routinist, 
 but possessed of a general culture, which 
 had liberalized and refined his whole life 
 and character. 
 
 When General Sir John Mordaunt and 
 Admiral Barker were sent against Eoche- 
 fort, with a large force, Pitt chose 
 Wolfe, for his merit alone, as the 
 quartermaster-general. The expedition 
 arrived in the Basque roads. The lead 
 ers were quarrelling, and nothing was be 
 ing done. Wolfe, impatient of this slug 
 gishness, takes a boat and lands alone 
 upon the shore. He now quietly walks 
 into the enemy s country for a mile or 
 more, observing with a soldier s eye its 
 weaknesses and its strength. He returns 
 on board the admiral s ship, and reports 
 the result of his observations to the lead 
 ers of the expedition. He urges them to 
 land and begin an attack on Eochefort 
 at once, as there Avas no obstacle suffi 
 cient to resist it. His advice is scorned. 
 He now, in his earnestness, declares that 
 if three ships-of-war and five hundred men 
 are given him, he will carry the place 
 himself. His proposition is rejected. 
 
 The expedition, making no attempt up 
 on Eochefort, re turned ingloriously home. 
 Wolfe s conduct becoming known to Pitt, 
 confirmed that statesman in his high es 
 timate of him. The public welcomed 
 him as the only hero of the occasion, and 
 the minister elevated him to the rank of 
 colonel. 
 
 On the 23d of January, Wolfe 
 
 1758 
 was appointed a brigadier-general, 
 
102 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 under Amherst, and now has arrived off 
 Louisburg, in command of one of the 
 three divisions of the large force about 
 to attack that citadel. 
 
 It was hoped to take Louisburg by 
 surprise. Arriving before the break of 
 day, Amherst gave orders that not a light 
 should be shown, and no noise be made, 
 in order that the transports might work 
 their way silently into the harbor, and 
 the troops be landed so suddenly as to 
 come upon the garrison unexpectedly. 
 As the morning broke, however, a thick 
 fog shrouded the land so completely, that 
 it was impossible to attempt to disembark 
 the troops. As the day advanced, the fog 
 dispersed ; but a strong wind then began 
 to blow, bringing in with it from the At 
 lantic a great swell, which broke in such 
 a high surf upon the shores of the bay, 
 that it was quite impossible for a small 
 boat to ride through it in safety to the 
 land. The general, however, in the com 
 pany of Wolfe and another officer, ven 
 tured to approach the shore during the 
 night, for the purpose of reconnoitring, 
 and saw that the French had been very 
 busy in adding to the defences, by out 
 works and posts, which greatly increased 
 the risks of landing. 
 
 For a week the Atlantic continued to 
 pour in its great waves, so as to cause 
 such a swell in the harbor, and dash such 
 a surge upon the beach, that 110 attempt 
 was made during that whole time to land. 
 On the eighth day, however, the sea went 
 down, but still leaving a dangerous surf. 
 A naval officer having made a prelimi 
 nary survey, and reported a favorable 
 place for disembarking, the troops were 
 
 ordered out before daybreak into the 
 boats, to prepare for the attempt. There 
 were three divisions. The right and cen 
 tre were under the commands of Whitr 
 more and Lawrence. Wolfe led the left 
 at the head of his grenadiers, five hundred 
 infantry, and a company of provincial 
 rangers. He was the first to approach 
 the shore. The French gathered in large 
 force to oppose the landing, but withheld 
 their fire until their enemy came close in ; 
 and, as the boats rose in the white crests 
 of the surf, as it curled up from the shore, 
 they began a near and murderous fire : the 
 English suffered greatly, but, retaining 
 their coolness, and not returning a shot, 
 vigorously drove their boats through the 
 surf, into the very mouths of the French 
 muskets. Wolfe now succeeded in land 
 ing his troops, and began an onslaught 
 which soon drove the enemy in disorder 
 from their outworks, to the very walls 
 of the city. The pursuit was continued 
 with great slaughter, until checked by the 
 cannon of the citadel, when Wolfe retired 
 to a position near where he had landed, 
 bringing back with him seventy prison 
 ers. The other divisions had succeeded 
 also in landing, but not until they had 
 lost a hundred boats, and a large number 
 of men, from the violence of the sea. 
 
 Another severe storm coming on, the 
 artillery was not brought on shore for 
 two or three days. This postponed the 
 siege, which, however, was soon com 
 menced in good earnest. The guns in 
 position and the intrenchments dug, the 
 bombardment began. Day and night the 
 English poured from their batteries on 
 land, and their ships in the bay, such a 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 SURRENDER OF LOUISBURG. 
 
 tempest of balls, bombshells, and red-hot 
 shot, that finally, the citadel having been 
 on fire, the barracks burnt to the ground, 
 and the walls so crumbled and brought 
 so close within the approaching land-batr 
 teries, that the enemy were unable to 
 stand to their guns ; and the French com 
 mander was forced, after a spirited resist> 
 ance, which was prolonged for several 
 weeks, to make an unconditional surren 
 der. 
 
 The shipping of the harbor, and a fine 
 French fleet at anchor in the bay, were 
 almost annihilated. Two of the vessels- 
 of-war, toward the close of the siege, still 
 remained secure ; when a volunteer par 
 ty, in a number of small boats, moved 
 into the harbor, in spite of a hot fire kept 
 up by the enemy, and, boarding the sur 
 viving ships, gallantly took them. With 
 this volunteer party was Cook, then a 
 petty officer on a British ship-of-war, af 
 terward the famous Captain Cook, who 
 sailed round the world. 
 
 The victory was a great one. England 
 rejoiced at it, and did honor to the gal 
 lantry of her soldiers. The French flags 
 were hung, with solemn ceremonies, on 
 the walls of St. Paul s cathedral ; and 
 thanks and honors were decreed by Par 
 liament to the brave officers and soldiers 
 who had so valiantly won a victory in 
 their country s cause. Wolfe, having per 
 formed a painful duty in expelling a rem 
 nant of Acadians, still in Nova Scotia, 
 from their homes, was attacked with a 
 severe illness, and was obliged to return 
 to England. On his arrival there, his first 
 act was to address a letter to Mr. Pitt, in 
 which he modestly but spiritedly offered 
 
 103 
 
 his services for the ensuing campaign in 
 America. 
 
 The British government, under the ad 
 ministration of Pitt, had expressed its res 
 olution to redeem, at every hazard, the 
 disasters which had sullied English fame 
 in the North and West. England voted 
 men, arms, ammunition, provisions, and 
 all that was necessary for a campaign; 
 and for the first time, at the suggestion 
 of the able Pitt, bestowed upon provin 
 cial officers the rank and pay of regulars. 
 The American colonies sympathized with 
 these liberal measures of the home gov 
 ernment, and raised a large force of pro 
 vincial militia : seven thousand men came 
 from Massachusetts, five thousand from 
 Connecticut, nine hundred from New 
 Hampshire, and large numbers from 
 Rhode Island, New York, and New Jer 
 sey, and gathered together at Albany, un 
 der the command of Abercrombie, who, 
 since the departure of Lord Loudoun,had 
 become command er-in-chief. In addition 
 to the large provincial force, amounting 
 to over nine thousand, there were nearly 
 seven thousand British regulars, well offi 
 cered by some of the most brilliant of 
 England s military chiefs, among whom 
 was the young Lord Howe, " the idol and 
 soul of the army." 
 
 This great force now set out. " On the 
 fifth day of July," says Bancroft, 
 " the whole armament of more than 
 fifteen thousand men, the largest body of 
 European origin that had ever been as 
 sembled in America, struck their tents 
 at daybreak, and in nine hundred small 
 boats and one hundred and thirty-five 
 whale-boats, with artillery mounted on 
 
104 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART i. 
 
 rafts, embarked on Lake George. The 
 fleet, bright with banners, and cheered 
 by martial music, moved in stately pro 
 cession down the beautiful lake, beaming 
 with hope and pride, though with no wit- 
 ness but the wilderness. They passed 
 over the broader expanse of waters to 
 the first narrows ; they came where the 
 mountains step down to the water s edge, 
 and, mantled with forests, enhance the 
 picturesque loveliness of the scene ; and, 
 in the richest hues of evening light, they 
 halted at Sabbath-day point. Long after 
 ward, Stark (who was now a captain) re 
 membered that on that night, Howe, re 
 clining in his tent on a bearskin, and bent 
 on winning a hero s name, questioned 
 him closely as to the position of Ticon- 
 deroga, and the fittest mode of attack." 
 
 At Sabbath-day point they halted but 
 a few hours ; and, while it was yet night, 
 the troops took to their boats again, and 
 sailed along the lake until they reached 
 the Narrows, where they arrived at break 
 of day. Here the brave Colonel Brad- 
 street was put ashore at once with two 
 thousand men to reconnoitre, who, find 
 ing no enemy, were followed immediate 
 ly by the rest of the forces. 
 
 The French fort of Ticonderoga,against 
 which the English were now marching, 
 was placed on the narrow strip of land 
 between Lake George and Lake Cham- 
 plain. Montcalm was vigilant, and, aware 
 of the approach of the British, had sent 
 out a small force to the borders of Lake 
 George, to oppose their landing. This 
 force, however, observing the large num 
 bers advancing, began to retire ; but, in 
 attempting to return, they got lost in the 
 
 forests, which crowded thickly the sur 
 rounding country. A small party of the 
 English, under Lord Howe, being in ad 
 vance, reconnoitring, fell in with the 
 French ; and a desperate struggle began 
 at once, in the midst of the tangled woods 
 and in the yielding swamp. The English 
 fought gallantly, and the enemy stoutly 
 resisted. The heroic Howe was foremost 
 in the fight, but, struck early by a mus 
 ket-ball, fell instantly dead. The loss of 
 their good and chivalrous young leader 
 gave the intensity of revenge to the cour 
 age of his men, and they battled more 
 desperately than ever with the enemy ; 
 but such was the obstinate fierceness with 
 which the French held their ground, that 
 they did not yield until they were nearly 
 all exterminated, with but a single hun 
 dred out of their whole force of half a 
 thousand left ! 
 
 The death of Howe was so discoura 
 ging to the troops and to their general, 
 that both seemed to lose heart. Aber- 
 crombie himself acted almost like a mad 
 man. With no purpose that was intelli 
 gible, he marched his forces back again 
 to the spot whence they had come the 
 day before, with the greatest trial to their 
 spirit and endurance. He, however, soon 
 recovered sufficient courage to act, but 
 only to act with reckless imprudence. 
 He marched upon Ticonderoga, and, en 
 countering the French, to the number of 
 four thousand or more, in an intrenched 
 camp at Cerrillon,in front of the fort, gave 
 them battle. With an unreflecting au- 
 dacity,Abercrombie led his troops against 
 the impregnable centre of the enemy s 
 position, though the flanks were exposed, 
 
106 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 the sad experience of Braddock, to pro 
 vide against the trials and dangers of a 
 passage through the wilderness. He met 
 with no reverse until within about nine 
 ty miles of the fort, when one of his too 
 impulsive Scotch officers, while in advance 
 to reconnoitre the enemy s position, sound 
 ed his bagpipes and challenged the French 
 to battle. The challenge was accepted ; 
 and the impatient Highlander, with his 
 eight hundred kilted followers, was worst 
 ed, lie had to pay for his rashness by 
 his own captivity and that of three hun 
 dred of his men. 
 
 The Highlanders who were raw re 
 cruits, fresh from their mountain-fastnes 
 ses were constantly, by their ignorance 
 nnd disregard of military discipline, get 
 ting into all sorts of serious difficulties. 
 On one occasion, a man was seen coming 
 out of the woods, with his long hair all 
 awry, and his body wrapped in some dark- 
 colored drapery. The sentinel challenged 
 him, but receiving no answer, or not un 
 derstanding it, shot him dead. It turned 
 out that the poor fellow, who was sup 
 posed to be a skulking Indian in a blan 
 ket, was no more than a raw, unkempt, 
 and innocent Hielander, in his mountain- 
 plaid, astray in the woods. He had prob 
 ably answered the sentinel s challenge in 
 his native Gaelic, his only tongue ; and 
 the Saxon soldier had mistaken it for 
 Choctaw, or some other Indian dialect ! 
 
 Again, on another occasion, several of 
 these Highland soldiers, by their undis 
 ciplined habits of wandering, fell into an 
 ambush of Indians. These savages be 
 gan their cruel tortures, when one Allan 
 Macpherson, finding his turn had come, 
 
 was resolved upon escaping, if not death, 
 at any rate the lengthened agonies of 
 savage torture. He accordingly hit upon 
 this ingenious expedient : He gave out 
 that he knew the secret of a great medi 
 cine, which, if applied to the skin, would 
 make it invulnerable. He was believed 
 by his barbarous listeners, who allowed 
 him to gather the necessary herbs, with 
 which Allan made a decoction, and ap 
 plied it to his neck. " Strike, now," he 
 told them, "with all your might, and 
 you ll see the power of the great medi 
 cine !" The savage raised his tomahawk, 
 and, bringing it down with all the force 
 of his arm, sent poor Allan Macpherson s 
 head rolling off several yards ! The In 
 dians saw the trick, by which the shrewd 
 Highlander had saved himself the tor 
 ments of a lingering death. They were 
 so tickled with Macpherson s ingenuity, 
 that they became sufficiently good-na 
 tured to spare his surviving comrades, 
 not from death, but from a long and pain 
 ful journey to it. Torture w r as not in 
 flicted upon the rest of the victims. 
 
 In spite of the mishap in which the 
 recklessness of his officers had involved 
 him, Forbes persevered in his advance, 
 and had the satisfaction of finding, on 
 reaching Fort Du Quesne,that the French 
 had fled. The British took possession of 
 the deserted fort, with Washington and 
 his " really fine corps" of Virgin 
 ians among the first to plant the 
 English flag, and called the place Pitts- 
 burg, in honor of the great statesman who 
 was now redeeming everywhere the glo 
 ry of his country. Thus ended the cam 
 paign of 1758. 
 
 NOT, 25, 
 
pa 
 
COLONIAL. J 
 
 CANADA TO BE CONQUERED. 
 
 107 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Pitt determines to wrest America from the Dominion of France. Expedition to Canada, under Amherst. Its Failure. 
 Johnson s Success at Niagara. Wolfe appointed to command the Expedition against Quebec. His Interview with 
 Pitt Wolfe s Enthusiasm. His Better Qualities. Poet and Soldier. Honor and Piety. The Expedition sails. 
 The Force. The Officers. The Voyage. Arrival on the American Coast. Off Quebec. Wolfe s Impetuosity of 
 Temper. Promptitude of Action. Landing of a Small Detachment on the Island of Orleans. Audacity stronger 
 than Numbers. The Whole Force debarked. Wolfe s Contemplation of the Scene of the Coming Struggle. His 
 Reflections. A Storm, and an Overshadowed Heart. Clear Weather, and Bright Hope. A Nocturnal Incident. A 
 Fire-ship in the Night. Wolfe s Proclamation. A Gentle Nature curdled by Blood. 
 
 1759, 
 
 THE attention of England was 
 now concentrated upon its Ameri 
 can colonies. Pitt, encouraged by the 
 triumphs which his active administration 
 had succeeded in winning, and cheered 
 by the sympathies of the whole British 
 nation, resolutely bent all his energies 
 toward wresting complete^ the domin 
 ion of America from the grasp of France. 
 The English Parliament seconded, almost 
 with one mind, this spirited design of 
 their leader, and, to carry it out, gener 
 ously voted the large sum of two hun 
 dred thousand pounds. The great object 
 was, to conquer Canada ; and, with this 
 purpose, he determined to send three ex 
 peditions against those strongholds of 
 French power in America Niagara, 
 Montreal, and Quebec. 
 
 Amherst, who had been so successful 
 at Louisburg, was appointed commander- 
 in-chief of the British forces in America, 
 and ordered to advance toward Canada, 
 by the northern lakes. He accordingly 
 marched, with an immense force, and, al 
 though with much toil, delay, and occa 
 sional opposition, succeeded in possessing 
 nimself of the two French forts of Ticon- 
 deroga and Crown Point, and, after a most 
 
 unaccountable procrastination, sailed at 
 length to the north of Lake Champlain. 
 The enemy had feared to meet the pre 
 ponderating numbers of the English on 
 their march ; and, as the latter came near 
 Montreal, the inhabitants of that city, al 
 though making every effort to prepare 
 for resistance, were in a state of great 
 alarm. The English, however, turned 
 back again when within reach and almost 
 certain of victory. 
 
 The expedition against Niagara had, 
 with the aid of Johnson and his Indian 
 force, been successful, and that important 
 position had surrendered also to the Eng 
 lish. 
 
 It was to Wolfe that Pitt intrusted the 
 expedition against Quebec. In January, 
 1759, the young officer was gazetted a 
 major-general, and given the command- 
 in-chief of the troops destined for Canada 
 Wolfe was now thirty-tw r o years of age. 
 He is not described as being particularly 
 well-favored in looks. His frame was 
 meager, and indicative of a feeble const! 
 tution. His features were sharp and an 
 gular, his forehead receding, his complex 
 ion coarse and freckled, and his hair red 
 dish. His mouth, however, bore a refined 
 
108 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 ! PAKT I 
 
 and gentle expression, while his large 
 blue eyes beamed with intelligence and 
 a sweet sensibility. His manner was not 
 particularly engaging to strangers, but all 
 who knew him well loved him well. He 
 was frank and sincere. Warm in his af 
 fections, and of a loving nature, he clung 
 to his parents, and particularly to his 
 mother, w r ith the devotion of a pure and 
 fond heart. He was naturally domestic 
 in his tastes, notwithstanding his military 
 life, and in writing to his mother he says 
 of himself: " I have a turn of mind that 
 favors matrimony prodigiously; I love 
 children, and think them necessary to 
 people in their later days." 
 
 He became enamored of a beautiful 
 woman at an early age, but his love was 
 not at first returned. Persisting, howev 
 er, in his suit, he was finally accepted by 
 Miss Lowther, a celebrated beauty (sub 
 sequently the duchess of Bolton), whom 
 he was to marry on his return from the 
 Canadian expedition. He gave his be 
 trothed, on his last farewell, a necklace 
 of pearls. She wore it ever after, but, in 
 a few months, always wrapped in Mack 
 velvet. 
 
 Wolfe was excitable in manner, and 
 somewhat impetuous in temper. His na 
 ture was an enthusiastic one, and he pur 
 sued with ardor whatever touched his 
 heart. His warmth occasionally caused 
 those, who did not know him well, to 
 doubt his discretion. A day or two after 
 he had received his command, he dined 
 with Pitt. After dinner, the subject of 
 his expedition to Quebec naturally com 
 ing up, Wolfe became so excited, that he 
 sprang from his seat, strode about the 
 
 room, flourishing his sword, and spoke of 
 what he would do in such a boastful man 
 ner, that Pitt was said to have been fright 
 ened for a moment at having intrusted 
 to apparently such a frivolous character 
 so weighty a matter as the fate of na 
 tions. 
 
 Wolfe s mercurial temper was, howev 
 er, balanced by a strong and well-culti 
 vated intellect. He was fond of study, 
 and, by diligent application, though most 
 of his life had been spent in the camp, 
 had become no mean scholar. He wrote 
 both prose and verse with facility. That 
 famous camp-song is his which still echoes 
 in every tent where the British soldier is 
 serving his country: 
 
 " How stands the glass around ? 
 For shame ! ye take no care, my boys, 
 
 How stands the glass around ? 
 
 Let mirtli and wine abound, 
 
 The trumpets sound, 
 The colors they are flying, boys : 
 
 To fight, kill, or wound, 
 
 May we still be found 
 Content with our hard fate, my boys, 
 
 On the cold ground ! 
 
 " Why, soldiers, why, 
 Should we be melancholy, boys ? 
 
 Why, soldiers, why ? 
 
 Whose business tis to die ! 
 
 What, sighing ? fie ! 
 Do n t fear, drink on ; be jolly, boys ! 
 
 Tis he, you, or I ! 
 
 Cold, hot, wet, or dry, 
 We re always bound to follow, boys, 
 
 And scorn to fly ! 
 
 " Tis but in vain 
 I mean not to upbraid you, boys 
 T is but in vain 
 For soldiers to complain: 
 Should next campaign 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 THE MAD WOLFE. 
 
 109 
 
 Send us to HIM who made us, boys, 
 
 We re free from pain ! 
 
 But, if we remain, 
 A bottle and a kind landlady 
 
 Cure all again !" 
 
 Wolfe s affectionate and domestic na 
 ture, in sympathy with the devotional 
 sentiment of his pious mother, whom he 
 so strongly loved, was religiously dis 
 posed. He had even the reputation of 
 being fanatical. A courtier remonstrated 
 with the king on the appointment of 
 Wolfe, saying, " He is mad" (meaning by 
 "mad," over-religious). "If he be mad," 
 replied the sovereign, " I wish he would 
 bite some of my other generals !" Wolfe 
 tells his mother, in a letter from Scot 
 land : " I have observed your instructions 
 so rigidly, that, rather than want the 
 word, I got the reputation of being a 
 very good Presbyterian, by frequenting 
 the kirk of Scotland till our chapel 
 opens." 
 
 On the 14th of February, the 
 British land-forces, under Wolfe, 
 sailed for America. The transports which 
 bore them were convoyed by a large 
 English squadron, commanded by Saun- 
 ders, " that admiral who was a pattern 
 of most sturdy bravery united with the 
 most unaffected modesty. No man said 
 less or deserved more. Simplicity in his 
 manners, generosity, and good nature, 
 adorned his genuine love of his coun 
 try." On the 21st of April, the whole 
 armament arrived off Cape Breton, but 
 could not enter the harbor of Louisburg, 
 as was originally intended, in consequence 
 of the large quantity of floating ice. They 
 set sail for Halifax, in Nova Scotia, and 
 
 1759, 
 
 anchored in that port. Here were now 
 gathered a magnificent fleet of twenty 
 two ships-of-the-line, five frigates, nine 
 teen smaller vessels, and a crowd of trans 
 ports, under the flag of Admiral Saunders. 
 General Wolfe mustered eight thousand 
 troops under his command. A detach 
 ment of artillery and engineers, ten bat 
 talions of infantry, and six companies 
 of rangers, made up the whole force, 
 which, however, was afterward increased 
 by the addition of several companies from 
 the garrison at Cape Breton, and which 
 formed what was called the corps of Lou 
 isburg grenadiers. 
 
 " On board one of the ships," says Ban 
 croft, " was Jervis, afterward Earl St. Vin 
 cent; another which followed bore as mas 
 ter James Cook, the navigator who was 
 destined to explore and reveal the un 
 known paths and thousand isles of the 
 Pacific. The brigades had for their com 
 manders the brave, open-hearted, and lib 
 eral Robert Monckton, afterward govern 
 or of New York and conqueror of Mar- 
 tinico ; George Townshend, elder brother 
 of Charles Townshend, soon to succeed 
 his father in the peerage, and become 
 known as a legislator for America, a man 
 of quick perception but unsafe judgment; 
 and the rash and inconsiderate Murray. 
 For his adjutant-general Wolfe selected 
 Isaac Barre, an old associate at Louis- 
 burg ; an Irishman of humble birth, elo 
 quent, ambitious, and fearless. The gren 
 adiers of the army were formed into a 
 corps, commanded by Colonel Guy Carle- 
 ton. A detachment of light infantry 
 were to receive orders from Lieutenant- 
 Colonel, afterward Sir William* Howe." 
 
llu 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_PART 1 
 
 The ice having cleared, Admiral Saun- 
 ders bore away for Louisburg. He de 
 tached from his fleet, however, a small 
 squadron, under Admiral Darrell,to inter 
 cept the French vessels which were said 
 to be making; their wav to the St. Law- 
 
 O / 
 
 rence, in order to carry relief to Quebec. 
 On the arrival of the ships and troops in 
 the harbor of Louisburg, the two com 
 manders (Saunders and Wolfe) counselled 
 together in regard to the plans of the 
 proposed attack on Quebec ; and orders 
 were soon after issued to all the vessels, 
 in case of separation, to make Gaspe bay, 
 in the gulf of St. Lawrence, the first, and 
 the island of Bic, one hundred and fifty 
 miles iip the river St. Lawrence, the sec 
 ond rendezvous. 
 
 All the forces, land and sea, were in a 
 state of high confidence, and impatient 
 for action. They were just ready to start, 
 when bad news arrived. Darrell had lost 
 his chance at the French squadron, which 
 had given him the slip and sailed up the 
 St. Lawrence. This, however disappoint 
 ing, did not bate a jot of the confident 
 enthusiasm which filled the heart of ev 
 ery British soldier and sailor. On the 
 6th of June, as the splendid fleet cleared 
 the dismal, snow-covered shores of Cape 
 Breton, the troops drew up on the decks, 
 and the crews manned the yards of each 
 vessel, from the proudest ship-of-the-line 
 to the humblest tender, and gave one 
 shout of joyful hope of soon meeting the 
 enemy. There was victory in the full 
 sound of this burst of confident enthusi 
 asm. The men relied upon their own 
 strength and courage, and trusted in the 
 skill of their leaders. Each tar knew 
 
 Saunders to be every inch a sailor. No 
 soldier doubted the courage and ability 
 of young Wolfe. Affection, too, warmed 
 the faith of every follower into devotion 
 to his leaders. Saunders, and more espe 
 cially Wolfe, were beloved b}^ their men. 
 
 With fine weather and favorable winds 
 the fleet moved on gallantly past New 
 foundland, in its mantle of snow ; along 
 the Bird islands, with a " ten-knot breeze ;" 
 and, on the llth of June, came up with 
 the Gaspe headland. One frigate, how 
 ever, had pushed on ahead. the Richmond, 
 which bore the impatient Wolfe, and which 
 with his eagerness to be foremost he had 
 selected as the fastest in the fleet. On 
 the 13th of June, the dangers of the island 
 of Anticosti, lying threateningly at the 
 mouth of the gulf of St. Lawrence, were 
 safely passed ; and, on the 18th, the fleet 
 came to anchor not far from the island 
 of Bic. At this point, although the ships 
 had " kept well together," the Richmond, 
 with Wolfe aboard, had already arrived-, 
 having been to this moment far in ad 
 vance of all the rest. 
 
 The fleet moved on again the next day. 
 There was a calm off the mouth of the 
 Saguenay, where there was some danger 
 of wreck to the small vessels from the 
 current-drifts, but from which they were 
 fortunately relieved by the evening wind 
 blowing off the land ; there was a cap 
 ture of a French vessel, with a distin 
 guished lady belonging to the family of 
 the marquis de Vaudreuil, governor of 
 Canada, and some nuns, all of whom were 
 most courteously treated, and sent to 
 Quebec ; and nothing more of incident 
 until the whole fleet came to anchor in 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 WOLFE BEHOLDS QUEBEC. 
 
 Ill 
 
 the evening of the 23d of June, off the 
 village of St. Joseph. Here there was a 
 slight brush with the enemy. Some sur- 
 v ; ey-boats were shot at by the inhabitants, 
 and the English took summary revenge 
 with a company of grenadiers, who, with 
 lire and slaughter, laid waste the Cana 
 dian hamlet. 
 
 On the 26th of June, the whole fleet 
 of men-of-war and transports anchored off 
 the island of Orleans, from which could 
 be distinctly seen the lofty cliffs of jag 
 ged slate on which QUEBEC stood, with its 
 citadel grimly defiant. Wolfe s love of 
 action for, although judicious, he was 
 impetuously prompt would not allow 
 him to waste a moment. He ordered his 
 troops at once to make ready to land ; 
 and on the very first night he sent a small 
 reconnoitring force of forty rangers, un 
 der the command of a lieutenant, to make 
 their way silently to the island, and gain 
 what intelligence they could. The ran 
 gers landed cautiously and without ob 
 servation, but, in groping their way qui 
 etly over the ground, came suddenly 
 upon a large number of the inhabitants, 
 busily engaged in burying in the earth 
 their valuables, to secure them against 
 the invaders. The British officer looked 
 somewhat aghast at the overpowering 
 crowd, but, finding that his only safety 
 was in audacity, boldly confronted them, 
 and began at once an onslaught. The 
 Canadians struggled manfully for awhile, 
 but, fearful of a larger body of the ene 
 my in reserve, soon gave way and fled. 
 
 The English were too glad at their 
 happy escape, to risk anything by pur 
 suit, and, quietly making their way to a 
 
 neighboring farmhouse, rested there un 
 til the next morning. During the night 
 all the inhabitants made their escape, 
 leaving the island in possession of the 
 lieutenant and his twoscore of rangers. 
 They were, however, soon joined by the 
 whole of Wolfe s troops, who landed early 
 in the day. The boats had made for a 
 cove, and the men landed on a spot near 
 a church, on the walls of which the priest 
 had reverently inscribed an appeal " to 
 the worthy officers of the British army," 
 invoking them to spare the holy edifice 
 and its sacred altars. The church was 
 spared. 
 
 While the men encamped on the beau 
 tiful island, and, when off duty, lingered 
 with delight over its fertile fields and rich 
 gardens, all in the freshness and bloom 
 of early summer, their anxious command 
 er was thoughtful only of duty. His first 
 impulse was to make his way, in compa 
 ny with the chief-engineer and an escort, 
 to the farthest west of the island, that he 
 might look upon the scene of the great 
 work in which his whole mind was now 
 absorbed. 
 
 "A magnificent but disheartening scene 
 lay before him," says Warburton. " On 
 the summit of the highest eminence, over 
 the strait in the great river from whence 
 the basin before him opened, the French 
 flag waved. The crest of the rocky height 
 was crowned with formidable works, re 
 doubted and flanked. On every favora 
 ble spot, above, below, or on the rugged 
 ascent, were batteries bristling with guns. 
 This stronghold formed the right flank 
 of a position eight miles in extent ; the 
 falls and the deep and rapid stream of 
 
112 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 the Montmorenci was the left. The 
 shoals and rocks of the St. Lawrence pro 
 tected the broad front ; and the rich val 
 ley of the St. Charles, with the prosper 
 ous and beautiful villages of Charlesburg 
 and Beauport, gave shelter and hospitali 
 ty in the rear. A crested bank of some 
 height over the great river marked the 
 main line of the defences from east to 
 west ; parapets, flanked at every favora 
 ble spot, aided their natural strength. 
 Crowded on the embattled bank, swarm 
 ing in the irregular village-streets, and 
 formed in masses on the hills beyond, 
 were twelve thousand French and Cana 
 dian troops, led* by the gallant Mont- 
 calm." 
 
 Wolfe looked on with momentary feel 
 ings of despair ; and, as he gazed, ponder 
 ing upon the undertaking which loomed 
 in such immensity before his imagination, 
 there came up a heavy cloud, which had 
 gathered over the city, and now burst in 
 a violent storm over his head. The hur 
 ricane blew with great fury ; and, as the 
 lightning flashed, the terrible effects of 
 the raging wind were visible. The fleet 
 of vessels were in a state of great com 
 motion, being thrown about almost at the 
 mercy of the agitated waters. The iron 
 chains which moored the transports were 
 rent in twain as if they had been of straw; 
 the small boats were reft from their moor 
 ings, and dashed in useless wrecks upon 
 the shore ; and the great ships-of-the-line 
 could hardly hold to their heavy anchors. 
 
 Wolfe, almost overwhelmed with what 
 appeared to be an omen of fatal disaster 
 to his great enterprise, turned away from 
 the melancholy scene in deep thought, 
 
 full of sad presage for the future. His 
 mind, however, soon turned in retrospect 
 to the land he had left, and to that coun 
 try which had intrusted him with the 
 guardianship of its glory. 
 
 Other feelings now stirred his heroic 
 soul ; despair and irresolution gave way 
 to hope and firmness. He had promised 
 that "no dangers or difficulties should 
 discourage him," and he now determined 
 that none should. As the calm self-reli 
 ance which belongs to genius settled up 
 on his mind, and all the disordered fan 
 cies which had momentarily vexed his 
 thoughts were scattered, Nature, as if in 
 sympathy with the noble Wolfe, became 
 also lulled to quiet. The storm passed 
 suddenly away ; and, as night darkened, 
 all was in repose, with but a star here 
 and there gently twinkling a faint light. 
 
 The British soldiers now encamped, 
 and all soon were sleeping on their arms, 
 except the watchful sentinels who passed 
 to and fro along the shore. As the night 
 advanced, the darkness deepened, and 
 the quiet became more still. Nothing 
 was heard but the ripple of the water, 
 and nothing seen but the waving glim 
 mer of scarcely a star, here and there, in 
 the slight surf -where the waves beat at 
 the feet of the sentinels. Some dark ob 
 jects appear suddenly, however, like black 
 clouds, floating on the surface of the riv 
 er. Those on the watch are bewildered 
 as they look upon the strange phenome 
 non, and exchange whispering words of 
 surprise and doubt. In a moment, before 
 the sentinels have decided to arouse the 
 drowsy camp, there burst from those dark 
 objects, which had now floated, with the 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 A PANIC. 
 
 113 
 
 tide, into the neighborhood of the an 
 chored fleet, a terrible volley of hissing 
 bombs., rattling muskets, and booming 
 cannon. Louder and more frequent was 
 heard the noisy cannonade ; nearer and 
 nearer approached the dreaded objects. 
 Now, in an instant, when almost within 
 reach of the English fleet, the mystery 
 was revealed by one burst of lurid light. 
 The sentries did not pause to look, where 
 all was now as bright as noonday, but 
 turned and fled in fright toward the camp, 
 arousing every soldier in confused alarm. 
 The whole army was panic-stricken, and 
 each affrighted man wandered about, lost 
 in bewilderment, and regardless of disci 
 pline and order. 
 
 Some officers, more cool than their 
 comrades, hurried to the farthest extrem 
 ity of the island looking toward Quebec. 
 Here, in the blaze of light, which threw 
 its bright glare over the whole scene, 
 they could see that the cause of the com 
 motion was the appearance of a number 
 of fire-ships, which the enemy had sent 
 down to destroy the English fleet. The 
 contrivance had failed, for the " diaboli 
 cal machines" had blazed prematurely, 
 and thus failed of their intended effect. 
 Admiral Saunders had coolly, but with 
 bated breath, watched the threatening 
 approach ; and when he saw that the fire- 
 ships, from the premature discharge of 
 their explosives, had been deprived of 
 their chief means of injury, he coolly or 
 dered out boats to grapple with them, 
 and tow them far out of reach of harm 
 to his fleet. 
 
 Order in the course of the night was 
 restored to the camp on the island of Or- 
 15 
 
 leans. Next day, before commencing a 
 systematic attack, Wolfe sent forth to the 
 inhabitants of Canada this proclamation 
 
 "WE HAVE A POWERFUL ARMAMENT. W 
 ARE SENT BY THE ENGLISH KING TO CONQUER 
 THIS PROVINCE, BUT NOT TO MAKE WAR UPON 
 WOMEN AND CHILDREN, THE MINISTERS OF RELI 
 GION, OR INDUSTRIOUS PEASANTS. WE LAMENT 
 THE SUFFERINGS WHICH OUR INVASION MAY IN 
 FLICT UPON YOU ; BUT, IF YOU REMAIN NEUTER, 
 WE PROFFER YOU SAFETY IN PERSON AND PROP 
 ERTY, AND FREEDOM IN RELIGION. WE ARE 
 
 MASTERS OF THE RIVER : NO SUCCOR CAN REACH 
 YOU FROM FRANCE. GENERAL AMHERST, WITH 
 A LARGE ARMY, ASSAILS YOUR SOUTHERN FRON 
 TIER. YOUR CAUSE IS HOPELESS, YOUR VALOR 
 USELESS. YOUR NATION HAVE BEEN GUILTY OF 
 GREAT CRUELTIES TO OUR UNPROTECTED SET 
 TLERS ; BUT WE SEEK NOT REVENGE : WE OFFER 
 YOU THE SWEETS OF PEACE AMID THE HORRORS 
 OF WAR. ENGLAND, IN HER STRENGTH, WILL 
 BEFRIEND YOU : FRANCE, IN HER WEAKNESS, 
 LEAVES YOU TO YOUR FATE." 
 
 This was a clever production, undoubt 
 edly from Wolfe s own pen. Nothing 
 could have been more judiciously word 
 ed ; but its author hardly expected any 
 other effect from it than it produced. It 
 was more for the purpose, as is usual with 
 military conquerors, to give a coloring of 
 right and a tone of confidence to his new 
 enterprise, than to persuade those to 
 whom it was addressed to forsake their 
 own country in its adversity, and to em 
 brace with affection that country s bitter 
 est enemy. The proclamation was met, 
 on the side of the French, by an earnest 
 appeal to the Canadians from their priests, 
 to fight for their faith, against the heretic 
 
114 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 English ; and counter-manifestoes from 
 
 O / 
 
 the fierce Montcalm, containing some ter 
 rible threats against traitors. 
 
 The Canadians, of course, remained 
 faithful to their country, and proved their 
 devotion by liberal contributions of men 
 and means to the cause. More than this : 
 they became so ferocious in their enmity, 
 that they joined with the Indians in in 
 flicting savage cruelties upon all the Eng 
 lish who fell into their hands. Wolfe ap 
 pealed to the humanity of Montcalm, to 
 stop these atrocities ; but the French gen 
 
 eral could not, or would not. The almost 
 feminine sensibility of the brave and hu 
 mane Wolfe was so far worked into a fer 
 mentation of cruel anger by the result 
 of his appeal to the humanity of Mont- 
 calm, that he issued this order: 
 
 "THE GENERAL STRICTLY FORBIDS THE IN 
 HUMAN PRACTICE OF SCALPING, except WHERE 
 
 THE ENEMY ARE INDIANS OR CANADIANS DRESSED 
 LIKE INDIANS." 
 
 Such is war, that even the gentlest 
 spirit is curdled into cruel rage by its 
 touch of blood ! 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The British Fleet draws nigh Quebec. Point Levi taken. De Vaudreuil and Montcalm quarrel. The French strive ii 
 drive away the British Fleet. Quebec not yet taken. Wolfe s First Manoeuvres. The British Rangers in the Forest. 
 Pursued by the Savages. The Murder of the Innocents. Failure of Wolfe on the Montmorenci. De Chassier a 
 Night-Attack. Its Catastrophe. Admiral Holmes moves his Ships farther up the St. Lawrence. Consternation of 
 the French. Wolfe takes a Survey, and does not admire the Prospect of the Heights of Quebec. Wolfe s Second 
 Attempt and Failure. A Touching Incident. Ochterlony and Peyton, the Two Friends. Escape from the Savages 
 Death of Ochterlony, and Safety of Peyton. Wolfe unsuccessful, but not despondent. News from Johnson and 
 Amherst, and its Effect. Wolfe s Illness. The General commands, and forms Plans, on his Sick-Bed. A French 
 Priest arouses his Flock to Action. Mutual Barbarity. 
 
 1759, 
 
 ADMIRAL SAUNDERS, made aware 
 by the effects of the storm, from 
 which his ships had so greatly suffered, 
 of their insecurity, was now anxious to 
 move them from the channel between 
 the island of Orleans and the south shore, 
 where they were moored, to the safer an 
 chorage of the " Basin," facing the city. 
 Point Levi, however, which commanded 
 the place to which he proposed to take 
 the fleet, was held by the enemy, with a 
 considerable force of artillery, by which 
 they could keep up an annoying fire. 
 Monckton was accordingly ordered by 
 
 Wolfe to pass over from the island of 
 Orleans with his brigade, and drive away 
 the French from the point. After some 
 difficulty, and two or three repulses, 
 Monckton finally succeeded in his object, 
 and the village of Levi fell into his pos 
 session. The Canadian troops and Indi 
 ans were forced to fly, and, crossing the 
 St. Lawrence, took refuge within the 
 walls of Quebec. 
 
 The loss of Point Levi was severely 
 felt by Montcalm, who had, with his usual 
 judgment, early discovered the impor 
 tance of the position, and had strongly 
 
COLONIAL. J 
 
 CAPTURE OF POINT LEVI. 
 
 urged upon the marquis de Vaudreuil 
 the necessity of so strengthening it as to 
 resist any attempt of the English. The 
 governor had, however, obstinately ob 
 jected ; and when the result that Montr 
 calm had feared occurred, and the town 
 of Levi was taken by his enemy, he was 
 so vexed, that he never forgave De Vau 
 dreuil. From that time, the two were 
 no longer friends. This quarrel fatally 
 interfered with the success of the French 
 arms. 
 
 The English, once in possession of Point 
 Levi, began to fortify it with batteries, 
 placed upon various elevations which 
 commanded Quebec ; and were able, al 
 though the distance across the river was 
 three quarters cf a mile, to throw a dam 
 aging fire upon the city. The French 
 for awhile made a useless effort to dis 
 lodge Monckton s force, by means of float 
 ing batteries moored in the river; but 
 they were soon silenced by the guns of 
 one of Saunders s frigates, sent to drive 
 away the annoyance. 
 
 Wolfe daily increased his fortifications 
 on Point Levi, and continued to fire with 
 great effect upon the city. With red-hot 
 balls and bombshells he succeeded in set 
 ting fire to over forty houses in one night, 
 destroying the greater part of the lower 
 town, and so angering the inhabitants, 
 that they volunteered to cross the St. 
 Lawrence in a body and drive away the 
 invaders. This was, however, but a tem 
 porary fit of enthusiasm ; and the citizens, 
 becoming more discreet, thought better 
 of their rash determination, and retired 
 from their ruined habitations to the se 
 curity of the citadel, which, perched on 
 
 July 9, 
 
 the heights, the English guns could not 
 reach. 
 
 The British had now been a fortnight 
 before Quebec ; and, although they had 
 made good their possession of 
 the St. Lawrence, and had suc 
 ceeded in keeping up a brisk fire from 
 the Point-Levi batteries, no impression 
 had been made upon the citadel itself, 
 and the object of the expedition seemed 
 almost as remote from accomplishment 
 as ever. 
 
 Wolfe now determined upon a plan of 
 operations by which he hoped to get at 
 the enemy more effectually. Montcalm 
 had extended his camp from the citadel, 
 along the northern bank of the St. Law 
 rence, as far as the river and falls of 
 Montmorenci. Wolfe proposed to land 
 his forces on the side of this river and 
 these falls opposite to the farthest east 
 ern extremity of the French encamp 
 ment. In order to divert the enemy, 
 while Wolfe was engaged in crossing the 
 St. Lawrence to the Montmorenci, the 
 smaller vessels of the fleet were worked 
 in close to the northern shore, and began 
 to play their guns upon the French, and 
 with such success, that they were forced 
 to draw back their troops from the bor 
 der of the river to the higher ground 
 behind. 
 
 Monckton, too, was ordered to make a 
 diversion, on Point Levi, toward Quebec. 
 He accordingly sent out a small compa 
 ny of his rangers, under Lieutenant Rog 
 ers, to prepare the way for a larger move 
 ment on the southern shore of the river. 
 The rangers pushed on with such zeal, 
 that they got lost in the thick woods, 
 
11C 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPATT 
 
 and, night coming on, were forced to pass 
 it in the forest, sleeping on their arms. 
 Next morning, while making their way 
 to Monckton s camp, they observed, in 
 some rising smoke, signs of habitation, 
 and accordingly, having cautiously ad 
 vanced, came upon a log-house, where 
 they found a Canadian settler and his 
 three children, the eldest of whom was 
 less than fifteen years. They were taken 
 captive, and were being led back to the 
 camp, when suddenly the whoop of the 
 Indian sounded upon their ears, and they 
 discovered that a large body of these sav 
 ages were close upon their track. 
 
 There was no hope now but in conceal 
 ment and flight. The rangers, skilled in 
 forest-warfare, plunged at once into the 
 woods, and strove to dodge the Indian pur 
 suit amonff the trees and undergrowth. 
 
 O O 
 
 They moved on with the greatest possi 
 ble haste, dragging their prisoners with 
 them, and endeavored to keep so silent 
 as not to be heard by the savages, who 
 were beating the woods like so many 
 bloodhounds. Silence, however, was im 
 possible. The Canadian father and his 
 eldest son were readily kept quiet ; but 
 the two younger children, who w T ere al 
 most infants, kept up such a continual 
 cry of fear and anguish, that it was found 
 impossible to stop them. Threats were 
 tried in vain, and persuasions were found 
 equally useless. They were urged by 
 Lieutenant Rogers to leave him, and find 
 their way home ; but they would not be 
 entreated, and continued their lamenta 
 tions, so that the woods rang with their 
 cries. The savages, guided by the noise, 
 were fast approaching. Rogers was al 
 
 most in despair. His only hope was now 
 in a terrible sacrifice. The children must 
 be silenced ; and silenced they were, by 
 death ! A sword was plunged into the 
 heart of each of the innocents, and their 
 bodies cast aside, to be eaten by the 
 wolves. Rogers now succeeded in reach 
 ing Monckton s camp in safety with all 
 his rangers and the bereaved remnant of 
 his prisoners. 
 
 Wolfe succeeded without difficulty in 
 conveying a large force from the island 
 of Orleans to the opposite bank of the 
 river, and there encamped them. The 
 river and the falls of Montmorenci were 
 now between him and the enemy : he 
 was on the east side of the stream, whose 
 course is north and south, and they on 
 the west. The falls, with a descent of 
 three hundred feet, and the rapids of the 
 river, near where Wolfe was encamped, 
 formed an impassable barrier between 
 the two camps. The ground which the 
 English, after a slight struggle with the 
 Indians and bush-rangers, now held, was 
 in a commanding position, and so lofty, 
 that from its cliffs the eye readily looked 
 down within the intrenchments of the 
 enemy on the opposite side. A crossing- 
 place was now searched for, and a ford 
 found some three miles distant from the 
 mouth of the Montmorenci. But the 
 French side was so well protected by the 
 natural barriers of precipice and throng 
 ing woods, and the strong intrenchments 
 which the alert Montcalm had thrown 
 up, that it seemed almost impracticable 
 to attempt it. Several efforts were, not 
 withstanding, made which, however, 
 were repulsed each time by a murderous 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 THE FLEET ASCENDS THE ST. LAWRENCE. 
 
 117 
 
 fire from the Indians hidden in the forest 
 covert. Wolfe now abandoned for ever 
 all hope of crossing at that point. 
 
 Montcalm became confident and more 
 daring when he found Wolfe s plan had 
 failed ; and, believing that the English 
 had made a fatal error in dividing their 
 force, tried to profit by it. He accord 
 ingly sent a body of troops from Quebec 
 to the south bank of the St. Lawrence, 
 to the west of Point Levi, where Monck- 
 ton was encamped, and gave orders for 
 a night-attack. Wolfe, hearing of this 
 movement, made his way across at once, 
 and took command in person of the troops 
 in Monckton s camp. Not conscious of 
 the dangers which were pressing to over 
 whelm them in the darkness, the British 
 soldiers threw themselves down, after a 
 day s hard duty at the w T orks, and now 
 lay in profound repose. 
 
 Two thousand French, Canadians, and 
 savages, as soon as the shades of evening 
 had begun to fall, took up their silent 
 march. De Chassier, a brave man, lord 
 of the domain of Point Levi, and familiar 
 with every landmark and forest-path, led 
 the force. This was separated, as it ap 
 proached the British camp, into two di 
 visions. One was sent in advance, and 
 the other followed at some distance in 
 the rear. As the first proceeded through 
 the wood in the increasing darkness, the 
 men became suddenly alarmed, and fled 
 back in confusion. The other division 
 oming up, and hearing the approaching 
 footsteps of their retreating comrades, 
 took them for the enemy, and commenced 
 a deadly fire, which was returned ; and 
 the awful mistake was not discovered 
 
 until seventy had been killed, and both 
 parties had been put to flight in opposite 
 directions ! The only result of this un 
 fortunate expedition was this sad suici 
 dal slaughter. 
 
 While the British troops were busily 
 engaged on Point Levi and the bank of 
 the Montmorenci, in throwing up their 
 intrenchments, Wolfe continued active in 
 studying the defences of the enemy, and 
 the natural position of the surrounding 
 country. A portion of the fleet, under 
 Admiral Holmes, having been moved du 
 ring the night, much to the surprise and 
 alarm of the inhabitants of Quebec, up 
 the St. Lawrence, and even beyond that 
 city, where they were anchored, Wolfe 
 seized the opportunity of taking a survey 
 of the northern bank of the river, to the 
 west of the town. He accordingly took 
 a barge and pushed off from the shore 
 to the nearest ship in the stream. The 
 barge was observed, and immediately the 
 enemy s guns began to play upon her; 
 but she happily succeeded, with only the 
 loss of her mast, in carrying her precious 
 freight to the safe guardianship of a sev 
 enty-four. Wolfe did not like the look 
 of things above Quebec. The northern 
 banks of the St. Lawrence rose in rugged 
 precipices from the shore, there as else 
 where, about the site of the formidable 
 citadel. Moreover, the French had de 
 fended the approach by intrenchments 
 and a strong battery at Sillery, which 
 crowned the high ground of the northern 
 shore of the river. Wolfe, therefore, for 
 the present, turned his attention else 
 where. 
 
 Near where the Montmorenci empties 
 
118 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i. 
 
 into the St. Lawrence, the stream, after 
 its turbulent course over the falls and 
 rapids, becomes smooth, and at low tide 
 go shallow, that it can in some places be 
 crossed on foot. Montcalm, conscious of 
 the natural facilities here for the approach 
 of the enemy, had fortified the place with 
 a redoubt below the bank ; while the bank 
 itself rose so precipitately, and was so 
 strongly intrenched, that even if an op 
 posing force should succeed in gaining 
 the shore, they would have a tough work 
 before them in an attempt to scale the 
 precipitous heights in the very mouths 
 of a threatening battery. Wolfe, how 
 ever, growing impatient as he had al 
 ready been five weeks before Quebec, and 
 had done nothing to satisfy the impulsive 
 energies of his restless spirit was now 
 resolved upon the desperate undertaking 
 of throwing his troops across to this very 
 point, so strongly resisting, and present 
 ing so little hope, even to the most dar 
 ing and resolute. The general, notwith 
 standing, undertook it, and failed. The 
 brigades succeeded in getting across from 
 the opposite side of the Montmorenci, 
 and Monckton s force landed in fine or 
 der from Point Levi. But the grenadiers 
 were in too great a hurry, and, pushing 
 with too much eagerness for the intrench- 
 ments, were repulsed, and came flying 
 back in disorder; although Monckton s 
 men, with admirable coolness, formed and 
 held the ground where they had landed, 
 and thus prevented a precipitate and con 
 fused retreat. The attack had been de 
 layed by the grounding of some of the 
 boats. Night was now approaching, and 
 the tide rising fast; so Wolfe withdrew 
 
 his men, and give up the attempt as fu 
 tile. 
 
 In this unfortunate repulse, there oc 
 curred an incident which so beautifully 
 illustrates the manly affection of comrade 
 for comrade, and affords so bright a rev 
 elation of the gentle goodness of brave 
 hearts, while even steeled to the cruel 
 duties of war, that we interweave with 
 heightened pleasure this pure page of 
 brotherly feeling with the leaves of the 
 " Battles of America," stained as they are 
 by fratricidal blood : 
 
 Captain Ochterlony and Ensign Pey 
 ton belonged to the regiment of Royal 
 Americans. They were nearly of an age. 
 which did not exceed thirty. The first 
 was a North Briton, the other a native 
 of Ireland. Both were agreeable in per 
 son and unblemished in character, and 
 connected together by the ties of mutual 
 friendship and esteem. On the day that 
 preceded the attempt which \ve have just 
 related, Captain Ochterlony had been 
 obliged to fight a duel with one of the 
 German officers of the mercenary troops 
 employed under Wolfe, in which, though 
 he wounded and disarmed his antagonist, 
 yet he himself received a dangerous hurt 
 under the right arm, in consequence of 
 which his friends insisted on his remain 
 ing in camp during the action of the fol 
 lowing day. But his spirit was too great 
 to comply with this remonstrance. He 
 declared it should never be said that " a 
 scratch," received in a private rencounter 
 had prevented him from doing his dutj 
 when his country required his service ; 
 and he took the field, though he was 
 hardly able to carry his arms. In lead- 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 PEYTON AND OCHTERLONY. 
 
 119 
 
 ing up his men to the enemy s intrench- 
 ments, he was shot through the lungs 
 with a musket-ball ; but he still contin 
 ued advancing, until, by the loss of blood, 
 he became too weak to proceed farther. 
 
 About the same time, Mr. Peyton was 
 lamed by a shot, which shattered the 
 small bone of his left leg. The soldiers, 
 in their retreat, earnestly begged, with 
 tears in their eyes, that Captain Ochter- 
 lony w r ould allow them to carry him and 
 the ensign off the field. Mr. Peyton, with 
 a generous disdain, rejected their good 
 offices, declaring that he would not leave 
 his captain in such a situation; and in a 
 little time they remained the sole survi 
 vors on that part of the field. 
 
 Captain Ochterlony sat down by his 
 friend; and, as they expected nothing 
 but immediate death, they took leave of 
 each other. Yet they did not altogether 
 lose hope of protection as prisoners ; for 
 the captain, seeing a French soldier with 
 two Indians approach, started up and ac 
 costed them in the French tongue, which 
 he perfectly understood, and expressed 
 his expectation that he and his compan 
 ion would be treated as officers and gen 
 tlemen. The Frenchman, however, came 
 up to Mr. Peyton, as he lay upon the 
 ground, and snatched his laced hat from 
 him, and robbed Ochterlony of his watch 
 and money. This outrage was a signal 
 to the Indians, who seemed to be entire 
 ly under the control of the French mis 
 creant, to begin. Accordingly, one of 
 these savages struck at the captain be 
 hind with the buti>end of his musket, but, 
 missing his head, at which he armed, the 
 blow fell upon his shoulder. At the same 
 
 moment the other Indian, with his muzzle 
 to the breast of the unfortunate Ochter 
 lony, poured its contents into his chest. 
 " Peyton," cried out the captain, " the 
 villain has shot me !" The savage, not 
 yet satiated in his cruelty, then sprang 
 upon him and stabbed him in the belly 
 with his tomahawk. The captain was 
 without a single weapon of defence. The 
 Frenchman and his associate savages now 
 strove to strangle him with his own sash ; 
 and he seemed completely at their mer 
 cy, struggling upon his knees with all his 
 might. 
 
 Peyton, observing the position of his 
 friend, lifted himself from the ground, 
 and, levelling his double-barrelled mus 
 ket, brought one of the savages down, 
 who fell dead upon the spot. The sur 
 viving Indian now made for Peyton, who 
 seeing the savage coming, fired with a 
 sure aim his second barrel at him, but 
 apparently without effect. The Indian 
 then returned the fire, which wounded 
 Peyton in the shoulder ; and, to complete 
 his bloody work, rushed upon him and 
 thrust his bayonet through his body. 
 The young English officer was, however, 
 not yet despatched ; and, as a second at 
 tempt was being made with the bayonet, 
 he seized the musket of the Indian, and, 
 dragging him close to him, succeeded in 
 drawing the dagger at his side, and 
 plunged it into his antagonist. Now en 
 sued a fierce struggle for life or death ; 
 but Peyton managed to get the better of 
 the Indian, and with another thrust with 
 the poniard the savage rolled over, and, 
 with one last agony, breathed no more. 
 At this moment the young British officer 
 
120 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART .. 
 
 was seized with an uncontrollable curi 
 osity to find out whether his shot, which 
 had seemed to be a sure one, had taken 
 effect. On stripping the blanket off the 
 dead body of the savage, he discovered 
 that his ball had passed quite through 
 the chest ! 
 
 Peyton now managed to raise himself 
 on one leg, and to hobble toward the 
 place where he saw his friend Ochterlony 
 standing up, with the Frenchman at his 
 side, not far from the French battery. 
 " Captain, I am glad to see," cried out his 
 friend, " that you have at last got under 
 protection ; but beware of that villain 
 with you, who is more barbarous than the 
 savages themselves ! God bless you, my 
 dear fellow ! I see some Indians coming 
 this way, and expect to be murdered im 
 mediately." 
 
 The Indians were, indeed, coming 
 some thirty of them who, having left 
 off pillaging and scalping the dead who 
 had fallen in the late unfortunate attempt, 
 were now making for Peyton. He, dis 
 abled as he was, made a run for life, but 
 had not proceeded far, when he found 
 himself unable to continue his flight. He 
 now came to a stop, and had just loaded 
 his musket, when two of the Indians, 
 ahead of their fellow-savages, came al 
 most within range of his lire ; but, as he 
 aimed at them, they suddenly paused, 
 awaiting the coming up of the others. 
 The French, in the meantime, began to 
 play with their cannon and musketry up 
 on the poor, solitary, and maimed Pey 
 ton ! This was his almost hopeless posi 
 tion, when he caught a sight in the dis 
 tance of a Highland officer, to whom he 
 
 waved his hand, in signal of distress. It 
 was fortunately noticed, and three men 
 were immediately sent to his aid. 
 
 The three British soldiers, in spite of a 
 terrible fire, succeeded in reaching Pey 
 ton, and one of them bore him off on his 
 shoulders. The Highland officer was his 
 kinsman, and, having heard that Peyton 
 had dropped on the field, had come out 
 with a party ; and, driving off the oppo 
 sing French and savages, had thus suc 
 ceeded in bringing him rescue, and car 
 rying him off in triumph. Ochterlony 
 was conveyed as a prisoner to Quebec, 
 where he soon after died of his wounds 
 the surgeons declaring that he might 
 have recovered of the two shots in his 
 breast, if it had not been for the fatal 
 plunge of the savage s tomahawk in the 
 belly. * 
 
 The failure at the Montmorenci so 
 wrought upon the sensitive nature of 
 Wolfe, and his feeble constitution had 
 been so broken by fatigue and exposure, 
 that he now fell ill, and was prostrate in 
 his camp with fever and dysentery. His 
 proud soul recognised death alone as the 
 alternative of conquest ; and, while there 
 was life, he resolutely strove for victory. 
 He now, stretched as he was on the bed 
 of sickness, bated not a jot of his energy 
 and resolute courage. He issued his or 
 ders with his usual promptness, and ex 
 ercised his command with the same strict 
 ness of discipline. The impetuous rush 
 of the grenadiers had lost the day, and 
 he now sternly rebuked them : 
 
 " The check which the grenadiers met 
 
 * Smollett tells this story, and we have repeated it very 
 nearly in his own words. 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 ILLNESS OF WOLFE. 
 
 121 
 
 with will, it is hoped," said Wolfe, " be a 
 lesson to them for the time to come. 
 Such impetuous, irregular, and unsoldier- 
 like proceedings, destroy all order, and 
 put it out of the general s power to exe 
 cute his plans. The grenadiers could not 
 suppose that they alone could beat the 
 French army ; therefore it was necessary 
 the corps under Brigadiers Townshend 
 and Monckton should have time to join 
 them, that the attack might be general. 
 The very first fire of the enemy was suf 
 ficient to have repulsed men who had 
 lost all sense of order and military disci 
 pline. Amherst s and the Highland regi 
 ment, by the soldierlike and cool manner 
 in which they formed, would undoubted 
 ly have beaten back the whole Canadian 
 army if they had ventured to attack them. 
 The loss, however, is very inconsiderable, 
 and may be easily repaired when a favor 
 able opportunity offers, if the men will 
 show a proper attention to their offi 
 cers." 
 
 Wolfe, however, was not the man to 
 linger despondingly upon the errors of 
 the past. His impulsive spirit was ever 
 looking forward with hope to the future, 
 and his sense of duty prompted him to 
 act as long as there was any chance of 
 doing something for the cause to which 
 he had pledged his service and his honor. 
 There was no hesitation in his conduct ; 
 and he promptly sent Murray, immedi 
 ately after the repulse on the Montmo- 
 renci, with twelve hundred men, to aid 
 Admiral Holmes in effecting a landing- 
 above Quebec. Little, however, was ac 
 complished by this movement, as Mont- 
 calm had so strongly fortified every point, 
 16 
 
 and so diligently guarded against sur 
 prise, that it was found impossible to do 
 more than destroy the small village of 
 Dechambaultin the course of the passage 
 up the river. Some prisoners of distinc 
 tion were here taken, and letters found 
 upon them, which gave the first informa 
 tion of the success of Amherst at Crown 
 Point, and that of Johnson at Niagara. 
 This news was brought back by Murray 
 exultingly, with the hope of cheering his 
 general ; Wolfe, however, derived but lit- 
 tie comfort from the intelligence, as he 
 saw at once that there was no hope now 
 of aid from either Johnson or Amherst, 
 so dilatory had been their progress. 
 
 Wolfe now became so ill, that he could 
 no longer bear the daily presence of his 
 officers ; but his mind continually dwelt 
 upon the great undertaking, the fate of 
 which rested on him alone. He devised 
 plans of attack, and from his bed dictated 
 their several details, with this general 
 letter to his brigadiers : 
 
 " That the public service may not suf 
 fer from the general s indisposition, he 
 begs the brigadiers will meet and con 
 sult together for the public utility and 
 advantage, and consider of the best meth 
 od to attack the enemy. 
 
 " If the French army be attacked and 
 defeated, the general concludes that the 
 town would immediately surrender, be 
 cause he does not find that they have 
 any provision in that place. 
 
 " The general is of opinion that the 
 army should be attacked in preference 
 to the place, because of the difficulties of 
 penetrating from the lower to the upper 
 town ; in which attempt neither the guns 
 
122 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 of the shipping nor of our own batteries 
 could be of much use." 
 
 Wolfe s plans, which accompanied this 
 letter, were all in accordance with his 
 view of attacking the army and not the 
 citadel based upon operations against 
 the French encampment extending along 
 the northern shore from the city of Que 
 bec to the river Montmorenci. The brig 
 adiers met and deliberated, and finally 
 determined on another and bolder pro 
 ject, said to have been suggested* by 
 Colonel George Townshend, that heroic 
 officer who had abandoned rank, position, 
 parliamentary influence, and the endear 
 ments of domestic life, to share in the 
 hardships and dangers of the American 
 campaign. Wolfe did not hesitate to 
 adopt the daring suggestion of his infe 
 rior in command, and now bent all his 
 energies to crown it with triumph. 
 
 The whole army welcomed the pros 
 pect of some decisive action. They had 
 been harassed by the irregular warfare 
 with the Indians and Canadians, who were 
 constantly provoking them into skirmish 
 es, which merely fevered cruelty with a 
 thirst for blood, and brought them no 
 nearer to the settlement of the great 
 struggle. The Christian soldier was laps 
 ing into the barbarity of the heathen sav 
 age. In fact, the cdnversion would seem 
 already to have been made. For exam 
 ple : A French priest armed some eighty 
 
 * YVarburton. 
 
 of his flock, and fortified himself in a 
 large stone-house, about ten miles east 
 ward of the British camp at Montmoren 
 ci. Thence he sent a message, challen 
 ging to combat, an English detachment 
 posted in his neighborhood. At the same 
 time, with eccentric French courtesy, he 
 sent a polite invitation to the English 
 commander to do him the honor of dining 
 with him, offering him a safe-conduct for 
 the occasion. The invitation was cour 
 teously refused. Soon after, a company 
 of light-troops, with a fieldpiece, was sent 
 against the belligerent French priest and 
 his flock. The English placed themselves 
 in a wood near by, and by a stratagem 
 succeeded in enticing the. French out of 
 their fortified house ; and, surrounding 
 some thirty of them, killed and scalped 
 the whole, including the gallant priest 
 That the victims were disguised as Indi 
 ans, was pleaded as an excuse for the 
 savage cruelty with which they were 
 treated!* 
 
 With such unholy and unsatisfactory 
 warfare to noble spirits, it was not sur 
 prising that the whole army was eager 
 for a change. The soldiers, too, suffered 
 from hardships and want of provisions. 
 Horseflesh had already been served out 
 as occasional rations. Moreover, two 
 months had been passed in vain, and all 
 felt the impatience which awaits imsatr 
 isfied expectation. 
 
 * Warburton. 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 WOLFE S DISCOURAGEMENT. 
 
 123 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Wolfe s Letter to Pitt. The Great Commoner s Dismay. Walpole s Babble. Townshend suggests a Plan for the Cam 
 paign. Wolfe adopts it. Reconnoitres the Heights. Finds a Place of Landing. Wolfe s Cove. The Army kept 
 in Ignorance. The Wisdom of the Caution. A Deserter from the French. The Enemy losing Heart. Montealm 
 writes despairingly to Count Mole. His Remarkable Prophecy. The British proceed to the Attack. Wolfe s Night- 
 Sail. His Song. The Plan of the Attack. Wolfe and Gray s Elegy. Wolfe on the Shore. The British on the 
 Heights of Abraham. Montealm doubtful. Assured at last. The Battle. Gallantry on Both Sides. Wolfe falls. 
 The British victorious. Wolfe dies " happy." De Bougainville blusters loudly, and flies. Montcalm s Heroic Death. 
 News of the Victory reaches England. Joy and Sorrow. Honor to the Brave. End of the Canadian Campaign. 
 
 1750, 
 
 WOLFE, after several weeks of ill 
 ness, had sufficiently recovered his 
 strength to present himself again to his 
 troops. He showed, as always, the same 
 undaunted air of confidence to his sol 
 diers, cheering them by his inspiriting 
 words, and encouraging them by his self- 
 reliant example. His tone, however, to 
 the British government was more dis 
 trustful. "I am so far recovered," he 
 wrote, " as to do business ; but my con 
 stitution is entirely ruined, without the 
 consolation of having done any consid 
 erable service to the state, or without 
 any prospect of it." Pitt was dismayed 
 at these despairing words, and began to 
 tremble for the glory of his country, and 
 to fear lest he had intrusted it to the 
 guardianship of feeble hands. The unfa 
 vorable news began to circulate in Lon 
 don, and its great people to quake with 
 fear. Walpole caught up the echo from 
 the aristocratic circle which gathered 
 about the personages of state, and re 
 peated it in a gossiping letter : " In short, 
 you must not," he says, "be surprised 
 that we have failed at Quebec, as we cer 
 tainly shall How this little army will 
 
 get away from a much larger, and in this 
 
 season, and in that country, I don t guess 
 yes, I do." Walpole s "guess," which 
 was sure, in accordance with his small, 
 tittle-tattle spirit, to take a mean direc 
 tion, was very far from doing justice to 
 the great character of Wolfe. Walpole 
 "guessed" that the British would run 
 away ! 
 
 The plan which Wolfe had adopted, at 
 the suggestion of Townshend, was to con 
 vey a large force above the town, and 
 thus draw Montealm from his citadel to 
 an open fight. This was the general de 
 sign : the details were now to be settled. 
 
 Wolfe allowed no weakness or tardy 
 convalescence to interfere with the activ 
 ity of his movements. He started him 
 self at once on board one of the frigates 
 in Admiral Holmes s squadron, and, sail 
 ing up the stream, landed in a cove on 
 the northern bank of the St. Lawrence, 
 three miles above Quebec, while 
 the men-of-war diverted with a 
 busy fire the various French batteries, 
 and covered the landing of the general 
 and his brigadiers who accompanied him. 
 The place where they had driven in the 
 boat was slightly hollowed out in the 
 course of that great volcanic movement 
 
 Sept, 9, 
 
124 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 
 
 which, ages ago, had reft in two the land, 
 and made way for the rush of the waters, 
 which now calmly flow, in the beautiful 
 river St. Lawrence, between its rugged 
 banks of slate. The place has ever since 
 been called " Wolfe s Cove." From the 
 scant spot of alluvial shore where Wolfe 
 landed, there led up the precipice, which 
 frowned high above, a narrow and wind 
 ing way to the summit. Once at the top, 
 the ground becomes almost like a table 
 land, and stretches with but gentle ele 
 vations to the walls of Quebec, which 
 stands upon a part of this high level, and 
 defiantly from its guarded height, raised 
 upon steep sides of stone, would seem to 
 scorn all invaders. 
 
 Wolfe resolved upon taking his troops 
 up the path at the foot of which he had 
 landed, and which led to the " Plains of 
 Abraham," as the level land at the top 
 of the headlong cliff was called. This 
 was such a daring resolve so hazardous, 
 so remote from probability and apparent 
 possibility that even Montcalm, with 
 all his vigilant foresight, could not anti 
 cipate it. Secrecy was absolutely neces 
 sary, and it was therefore determined to 
 land the troops in the dead of night, 
 Wolfe took great care to keep his own 
 counsel ; and, although he at once made 
 active and thorough preparations for car 
 rying out his design, he let no word es 
 cape, by which the precise object of his 
 operations might be known to the sol 
 diers, and his plans thus exposed to the 
 chance of reaching the enemy through a 
 deserter. In his orders to the 
 troops, he spoke of their embar 
 kation and disembarkation, specifying 
 
 Sept, 11, 
 
 the hours of the night ; and directed the 
 men to be quite silent, and not on any 
 account, when about to land, to fire from 
 the boats. He said nothing, however 
 about the specific object of his design, 
 but confined himself to the general order 
 to " the army to hold themselves in readi 
 ness to land and attack the enemy." 
 
 Wolfe s caution was wise ; for, on the 
 very morning which preceded the night 
 of his proposed attempt, one of 
 his soldiers deserted to the ene 
 my. Knowing nothing, however, this fel 
 low had nothing to communicate to the 
 French. One of Montcalm s regulars, who 
 in his turn deserted to the English camp, 
 had more to say. From him it was 
 learned that the French general believed 
 the attack would only be made on the 
 Montmorenci side, and accordingly still 
 kept his main force below the town ; that 
 a large detachment of troops had been 
 sent off (thus weakening the garrison of 
 Quebec) to meet Amherst, whose success 
 at Crown Point, and that of Johnson at 
 Niagara, had greatly alarmed the Canar 
 dians ; that M. de Bougainville, with fifteen 
 hundred men, was watching the move 
 ments of the British fleet above the town ; 
 and, finally, that the French were in great 
 want of provisions, and much disheart 
 ened. 
 
 The French had too much occasion to 
 lose heart. The British fleet rode in their 
 waters, in triumphant mastery of the St. 
 Lawrence, cutting oft all hope of aid by 
 sea. Amherst and Johnson threatened 
 the Canadian frontier by land. And, 
 worse than all, the able Montcalm was 
 thwarted by the obstinate resistance to 
 
OOLONIAL.J 
 
 THE LAST ORDERS. 
 
 125 
 
 his plans by the less capable De Vau- 
 dreuil. " You have sold your country !" 
 cried out the general, in excited rage 
 against the governor ; " but while I live," 
 added the resolute Montcalm, " I will not 
 deliver it up !" He wrote, almost in the 
 bitterness of despair, to M. de Mole, presi 
 dent of the Parliament of France : " The 
 enemy are in a condition to offer battle 
 when they please, and I can not refuse 
 them, although I shall be beaten. My 
 Canadians, without discipline, and deaf 
 to the call of the drum, will fly at the 
 first charge ; and what will be left for 
 me, but to be overwhelmed without a 
 resource ? Such is my position a posi 
 tion so terrible for a general, that it gives 
 me some awful moments of reflection ! 
 But, come what will, be assured I shall 
 not survive the loss of the colony. There 
 are times when all that is left for a gen 
 eral is to die with honor." He then " con 
 soles" himself, as he declares, with a re 
 markable prophecy of the fatality which 
 should attend British dominion by the 
 conquest of Canada : " I shall console my 
 self, writes Montcalm, with the serious 
 earnestness of a prophet of wo, " for my 
 defeat, by the certain conviction that that 
 defeat will one day be worth more to my 
 country than a single victory, and that 
 the conqueror, in widening his dominion, 
 will but open for himself a tomb." Mont 
 calm was conscious that his chief danger 
 lay above Quebec, and wrote : " Unless 
 Wolfe lands above the town, and forces 
 me to a battle, I am safe." Yet, on the 
 very night that the danger he feared 
 threatened him, he knew nothing of its 
 ipproach ! 
 
 The British troops were embarked. 
 Wolfe himself was on board. The night 
 had set in. The evening was clear. The 
 wind was fair, with the promise of a fresl 
 breeze to carry the ships rapidly up the 
 St. Lawrence. The plan of sending the 
 larger vessels, with the mock show of 
 landing a force on the northern bank of 
 the river, near the Montmorenci,had been 
 successful, and the enemy were still un 
 suspicious of Wolfe s real design. The 
 British general now issued his last orders, 
 in which, having reminded his army that 
 the fate of Canada might be determined 
 by a vigorous blow struck at this moment, 
 he tells them mysteriously, still keeping 
 his secret, that they are to land where 
 the French would least expect it. " The 
 first body that gets on shore is to march 
 directly to the enemy. The battalions 
 must form on the upper ground with ex 
 pedition, and be ready to charge what 
 ever presents itself. .... The officers and 
 men will remember what is expected 
 from them, and what a determined body 
 of soldiers, inured to war, is capable of 
 doing, against five weak French battal 
 ions, mingled with a disorderly peas 
 antry." 
 
 Wolfe, absorbed as he was in the prep 
 arations for his great enterprise, and anx 
 iously disturbed with thoughts of its haz 
 ards, and the importance of the stake, 
 still preserved his cheerful, confident tone 
 in the presence of all. At his evening 
 mess he was even joyous in the company 
 of his fellow-officers, and sang his own 
 song 
 
 " Why, soldiers, why, 
 Should we be melancholy, boys ? 
 
126 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 Why, soldiers, why ? 
 
 Whose business tis tc die !"* 
 
 The ships, with a part of the troops, 
 now sailed, and, with a favorable breeze, 
 soon passed up the St. Lawrence to the 
 rendezvous, eight miles above Quebec, 
 where they joined the fleet stationed 
 there under Holmes. That portion of 
 the army at Point Levi moved simulta 
 neously along the southern bank of the 
 river, and, halting opposite to the ships, 
 embarked. The troops, to the number 
 of sixteen hundred, were then removed 
 into flat-bottomed boats, in the utmost 
 silence. Everything promised success. 
 The enemy were evidently quite uncon 
 scious of the English movement, although 
 an event occurred which had nearly ex 
 posed the whole affair, and might have 
 spoiled the enterprise. A couple of 
 French deserters had sought refuge on 
 board one of the ships-of-war, and, giving 
 information of an expected convoy of 
 provisions, destined to Quebec, from De 
 Bougainville s force up the river, the cap 
 tain of the ship was on the lookout, and 
 determined to stop the supplies. The 
 movement among the English, while the 
 troops were getting into the small boats, 
 was observed- by the French deserters, 
 and it was supposed that they were the 
 convoy preparing to make for Quebec. 
 The British captain, whose vessel was at 
 some distance, and who was unconscious 
 of Wolfe s plan, had pointed his guns and 
 was about to fire, when fortunately his 
 
 * We have already quoted the whole of this song, as given 
 in that most excellent and accurate work of the brothers 
 Duyckinck, " The Cyclopaedia of American Literature." 
 The song is supposed to have been composed on the night 
 when it was first sung by Wolfe, that of the attack. 
 
 preparations, in consequence of the noise 
 and bustle, were observed by Wolfe, who 
 succeeded in setting the zealous naval 
 officer aright, and thus preventing him 
 from killing his countrymen and alarm 
 ing the French. 
 
 About an hour before daybreak, the 
 fleet of flat-bottomed boats began to move 
 down with the ebbing tide. Wolfe, in 
 company with some of his officers, led 
 the van. The rowers, with muffled oars, 
 just touched the rippling stream, and 
 they glided silently and calmly on. The 
 stars shone out bright in the clear sky. 
 The stillness and darkness of the night, 
 the gentle movement, the regular dip of 
 the oar, the pulsation of the tide against 
 the ribbed gunwale of the boat, the stifled 
 throbbings of the expectant hearts, natu 
 rally subdued all to quiet and serious 
 thought. Wolfe was the first to break 
 the silence, by uttering, in a tone of gen 
 tle melancholy, this verse of Gray s Ele 
 gy; 
 
 * k The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
 
 And all that beauty, all that wealth e er gave, 
 Await alike the inevitable hour 
 
 The path of glory leads but to the grave ! 
 
 " Now, gentlemen," said Wolfe to his offi 
 cers, " I would rather be the author of 
 that poem than take Quebec." * 
 
 The boats now approached the land, 
 and, cautiously floating under the over 
 hanging cliffs, they at last reached the 
 cove which Wolfe had selected for the 
 place of disembarkation. The general 
 
 * This incident is told by a gentleman who was a mid 
 shipman, doing duty on board Wolfe s boat on that night, 
 and became afterward Professor John llobinson, of the Uni 
 versity of Edinburgh. 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 ON THE PLAINS OF ABRAHAM. 
 
 127 
 
 himself, in the foremost boat, was the 
 first to leap ashore. Some of the boats, 
 carrying a company of Highlanders, had 
 been borne by the tide to some distance 
 below. Donald Macdonald, their captain, 
 however, without hesitation, leaped on 
 shore, and, nothing daunted by the steep 
 ascent above him, sprang at an overhang 
 ing tree ; and, bidding his men to follow, 
 climbed up the jagged precipice to the 
 top, with his soldiers close behind him. 
 On the summit was a French sentinel, 
 w r ho, hearing approaching steps, cried out, 
 " Qid vive?" "La France!" was the quick 
 reply of Macdonald, who fortunately un 
 derstood the French language. "A qucl 
 regiment? " pertinaciously inquired the 
 Frenchman. " De la Heine !" answered 
 the captain, who knew that was De Bou 
 gainville s. And the French soldier, mut 
 tering, "Passe" continued to pace his 
 round. The Highlanders, however, as 
 they scrambled up among the bushes, 
 and the loosened slate of the precipice, 
 made a rustling noise, which alarmed the 
 enemy s guard, who, after rushing toward 
 the edge of the clifi^ and firing a volley, 
 took to their heels. 
 
 Wolfe, with his brigadiers Monckton 
 and Murray, and the first division of the 
 army, were not less successful below. 
 They all clambered along the precipitous 
 path, so narrow that but two could go 
 abreast, and reached the top without op 
 position. The French pickets stationed 
 on the summit were overpowered at once, 
 and the rest of the forces continued to 
 come up in rapid succession, without re 
 sistance. As the day broke, the whole 
 army had reached the " Plains of Abra 
 
 ham," and, being formed on solid ground, 
 were ready for the enemy at any mo 
 ment. 
 
 When a messenger arrived at Mont 
 calm s quarters with the intelligence of 
 the English army being drawn up on the 
 plains of Abraham, he would hardly be 
 lieve it, and contemptuously declared, 
 " It can be but a small party, come to 
 burn a few houses and retire." After 
 more explicit information, however, he 
 became assured of the fact, and cried out, 
 angrily : " Then they have, at last, got 
 to the weak side of this miserable garri 
 son. I must give battle, and crush them 
 before noon!" Montcalm acted accord 
 ingly, and unwisely. His gallantry mis 
 led him. His true policy would have 
 been the discreet one of retiring within 
 the citadel, and awaiting there, safe with 
 in its walls, until he had exhausted the 
 patience and resources of his enemy. He 
 recklessly determined, however, to give 
 battle ; and, hastily collecting his forces 
 from Quebec and from below, along the 
 northern shores of the St. Lawrence, to 
 the Montmorenci, he drew them up, and 
 marched to face the foe. 
 
 At eight o clock in the morning, the 
 French column was observed from the 
 English camp to be advancing up the 
 rising ground from the river St. Charles 
 to the plains of Abraham. Wolfe had 
 succeeded in dragging up the cliff but a 
 single piece of artillery ; but this solitary 
 gun was made to play with such effec 
 upon Montcalm s forces, that they were 
 obliged to alter their line of march. 
 
 At ten o clock, Montcalm had reached 
 the battle-field, and began to form hin 
 
128 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 army. As he came up, however., De Bou 
 gainville, who had been summoned by 
 the French general to his aid, sent up, in 
 advance of his own inarch, a body of light 
 cavalry, which made a show of attack up 
 on Wolfe s left, but were easily checked 
 by Townshend, at that post. Montcalm 
 formed his centre of seven hundred and 
 twenty regulars, of the regiments of 
 Bearne and Guienne, with twelve hun 
 dred militia, and led it in person. To 
 his right he placed the regiments of La 
 Sasse and Languedoc, some sixteen hun 
 dred strong, all veteran soldiers ; with 
 these was a militia force of less than five 
 hundred, and a single small fieldpiece. 
 On the left were thirteen hundred infan 
 try of the Royal Rousillon regiment, to 
 gether with twenty-three hundred Cana 
 dian militia and a marine battalion. The 
 whole French force thus amounted to 
 half a hundred less than eight thousand, 
 without counting the Indians, who were 
 distributed about, to hide themselves in 
 the neighboring bush, and thus execute 
 what annoyance they could by their usu 
 al mode of warfare. Less than a half of 
 Montcalm s force, however, were regulars, 
 and the rest were raw Canadians, in whom 
 he had no confidence. Wolfe himself 
 enumerated his enemy thus contemptu 
 ously " Five weak French battalions, 
 mingled with a disorderly peasantry !" 
 But this was his statement to his own 
 men, for the sake of encouragement. He 
 knew that he had one of the most skilful 
 generals of the age, with some of the 
 most experienced soldiers, pitted against 
 him. 
 
 The English from an early hour had 
 
 awaited, in battle array, the coming up 
 of the enemy. Wolfe himself led the 
 front line, on the right with Monckton, 
 and Murray the left. The second line 
 was under the command of Townshend, 
 who, with his light-infantry and the Royal 
 Americans, took position at the extreme 
 left. A reserve was thrown back in a third 
 line, under Burton and Howe. Wolfe s 
 whole force was less than five thousand, 
 but each man was a trained soldier. 
 
 Montcalm had sent in great haste for 
 De Bougainville and De Vaudreuil to 
 come up with their troops, and in the 
 meantime checked his impatience for the 
 onset by a diversion with his three small 
 pieces of artillery, which, in his hurry, 
 were all he had brought with him. For 
 an hour he continued firing his cannon 
 upon the British, who rejoined with their 
 single gun ; and thus, during that time, 
 an ineffective fire was kept up. 
 
 Montcalm now lost all patience, and 
 began the attack in earnest. His first 
 attempt was, by a Hank movement, to 
 crowd the English down the precipice. 
 With this purpose in view, the French 
 veterans on the right swept round the 
 English left^ under Murray, with impetu 
 ous force, and poured in a murderous fire 
 upon the light-infantry in the rear, under 
 Howe. This young officer gave them a 
 warm reception, and stayed their prog 
 ress until Townshend came up to his re 
 lief with his infantry and the Royal Amer 
 icans, and drove the French back to their 
 lines in greatly-diminished numbers. 
 
 The attempt upon the light-infantry in 
 front of the British centre was more suc 
 cessful, and came near deciding the day 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 WOLFE FALLS. 
 
 120 
 
 disastrously for Wolfe. Observing these 
 troops yielding before the French marks 
 men, and fearing lest, as they fell back 
 in their flight, they might force the main 
 body into confusion, Wolfe hurried along 
 the line, and, encouraging his men, bade 
 them to hold back their fire, and not to 
 move a step until ordered. He was none 
 too soon; for the soldiers in the rear, 
 having become conscious of the confused 
 movement in front, were in a state of 
 anxious excitement. Wolfe s presence, 
 however, and his few inspiriting words, 
 calmed them at once, and they again 
 firmly stood their ground. 
 
 Now Montcalm, encouraged by the suc 
 cess of his skirmishers, bore down with 
 his whole centre toward the English right 
 wing. The French* as they halted, poured 
 in a terrible fire. The British fell fast be 
 fore it ; and Wolfe himself, who was in the 
 foremost van, was among the first to suffer. 
 A shot wounded him in the wrist; but 
 hastily wrapping a handkerchief around 
 it, he continued to pass from rank to rank, 
 exhorting each man not to fire. The 
 troops, true to discipline, obeyed; and 
 these "unknown demigods" coolly bore 
 the murderous attack of the enemy with 
 out a waver, moving only to step over 
 the dead bodies of their heroic comrades, 
 into their empty ranks. 
 
 Wolfe waited until the enemy had 
 reached within a distance of forty yards, 
 and then ordered the whole line to fire. 
 The effect was terrific. The French col 
 umns seemed to stagger as one body un 
 der the shock. Whole ranks fell in heaps 
 together leaving to the view, as the 
 smoke cleared away, the scattered sol- 
 
 17 
 
 diers standing aghast here and there, and 
 marking, like monumental stones, the 
 places of the dead. Officers and men 
 had suffered alike. St. Ours and De Zen- 
 czergnes were dead, and Montcalm him 
 self severely wounded. The French vet 
 erans, a ghastly remnant, still stood their 
 ground, but the Canadian militia had fled 
 in fright. The victory was won, but the 
 gallant Montcalm would not give up the 
 fight. Though deserted by all the Cana 
 dians, and though his own faithful French 
 men had been fearfully diminished in 
 numbers, the general brought together 
 the scattered remnant of his regulars, 
 and cheered them on for another attack. 
 They halted, and prepared to fire. 
 
 Wolfe at this moment ordered his line 
 to advance, and the whole army moved 
 forward and calmly returned the volley 
 which just came from the enemy. The 
 British soldiers, however, provoked by the 
 resistance of the shattered French ranks, 
 could no longer restrain themselves, and 
 began, in spite of discipline, to run with 
 an impetuous rush at the enemy, sweep 
 ing all before them. Wolfe was leading 
 on the twenty-eighth and the Louisburg 
 grenadiers, as with fixed bayonets they 
 charged the steady French veterans (who, 
 though falling fast, kept up an obstinate 
 fire), when he was wounded a second 
 time, in the body, but carefully concealed 
 it. Again, as he bravely bore on in front, 
 a ball from the enemv s redoubt struck 
 
 / 
 
 him in the breast. Staggering with the 
 shock, he quietly said to an officer by his 
 side, " Support me, that my brave fellows 
 may not see me fall." He, however, after 
 an effort to rally his strength, sank im- 
 
130 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART f 
 
 mediately into the arms of his friend, and 
 with the aid of some soldiers was borne 
 to a short distance in the rear. 
 
 Monckton was sent for, to take com 
 mand; but he had been wounded, and 
 could no longer do duty. Townshend 
 was then summoned, and, coming up to 
 the spot where his general lay in agony, 
 cast a momentary glance of despair, and 
 then hurried away, as chief, to complete 
 the victory of the day. The French still 
 gallantly resisted, for Montcalm was yet 
 on the alert, and impetuously urging his 
 troops to form and to fight. He was ev 
 erywhere, riding about among them, and 
 shouting out brave words of encourage 
 ment. His troops did continue to strug 
 gle manfully, but it was useless ; the Eng 
 lish, thronging up, drove all before them. 
 Montcalm himself was now struck down, 
 and his soldiers fled in dismay. 
 
 The dying Wolfe struggled against the 
 agonies of death, with his mind still in 
 tent upon duty. As his strength weak 
 ened, he made a strong effort to bring 
 back his departing vitality. With his 
 hand he strove to brush away the web 
 which Death was busily weaving before 
 his eyes, and at the same moment suc 
 ceeded in raising himself to a sitting pos 
 ture. At this instant, an officer cried 
 out, " See ! see ! how they run !" " Who 
 runs ?" exclaimed Wolfe. " The enemy, 
 sir ; they give way everywhere," was the 
 answer. " Go, then, one of you, to Bur 
 ton, and tell him to march Webb s regi 
 ment to the bridge, and cut off the re 
 treat," said the dying general, who to the 
 last was mindful only of his duty. " Now, 
 God be praised, I shall die happy !" he 
 
 faintly uttered ; and, turning over his 
 body, shuddered with the last agony : his 
 eyes closed ; and the brave Wolfe lived 
 only, but for ever, in memory. 
 
 The rout of the French was complete ; 
 the English pursuit fierce and pertina 
 cious. The Highlanders, with their clay 
 mores, made a great havoc among the fu 
 gitives, some of whom begged piteously 
 to be spared, as they had not been among 
 those at Fort William Henry.* Many of 
 the enemy made for the citadel, and were 
 not safe until they had succeeded in getr 
 ting within its walls. The British troops, 
 in the ardor of the pursuit, were in a state 
 of confusion ; but Townshend, expecting 
 the coming up of De Bougainville with 
 his fresh force, took care to recall his dis 
 ordered battalions, and draw them up in 
 readiness for the still-unconquered por 
 tion of the enemy. 
 
 De Bougainville had hurried up with 
 his fifteen hundred men ; but, so rapid 
 had been the defeat of Montcalm s troops, 
 that he found none to co-operate with. 
 So complete, moreover, had been the Eng 
 lish victory, that De Bougainville s forces, 
 although composed of the choicest of the 
 French grenadiers and light-infantry,were 
 so discouraged by the total rout of their 
 countrymen, that they hardly dared to 
 show an opposing front to the troops 
 Tow r nshend sent against them. Their 
 advance was checked at once by a cou 
 ple of regiments and two fieldpieces ; and 
 the French scarcely caught a glimpse of 
 them, before they were off in a precipi- 
 
 * The conduct of the victorious French at Fort William 
 Henry had been cruel, and the English burned to retaliate 
 upon the enemy for their ferocity on that occasion. 
 
COLONIAL.J 
 
 DEATH OF MONTCALM. 
 
 131 
 
 tate retreat along the northern bank of 
 the river, above Quebec. De Vaudreuil 
 was still more in a hurry; and, as soon 
 as he heard of Wolfe s success, he made 
 off with his fifteen hundred Canadians, 
 leaving behind him his artillery, ammu 
 nition, and all his stores. De Vaudreuil 
 was conscience-stricken, and feared great 
 ly lest he should fall into the hands of 
 the English, who, as Walpole says, " were 
 determined to scalp him, he having been 
 the chief and blackest author of the cruel 
 ties exercised on our countrymen. Some 
 of his letters were taken, in which he ex 
 plicitly and basely said that i peace was 
 the best time for making war on the 
 English ! " 
 
 The whole loss of the British on the 
 plains of Abraham was only fifty-five 
 killed and six hundred and seven wound 
 ed ; while that of the French could not 
 have been less than fifteen hundred in 
 all. 
 
 The brave Montcalm, when he was 
 w T ounded, was borne to the citadel ; and 
 when the surgeon began to examine his 
 wound, he was asked by the general if 
 it was mortal. Being told that it was, 
 Montcalm calmly rejoined, " I am glad of 
 "t," and asked, " how long can I survive ?" 
 " Perhaps a day, perhaps less," was the 
 surgeon s answer. " So much the better ; 
 I shall not live to see the surrender of 
 Quebec !" exclaimed the gallant Mont 
 calm. He now prepared for death, and, 
 when asked for his commands in regard 
 to the citadel, he refused to give them, 
 saying : " My time is very short, so pray 
 leave me. I wish you all comfort, and 
 to be happily extricated from your pres 
 
 ent perplexities." The priest was then 
 summoned, who performed extreme unc 
 tion, and remained by his side until he 
 breathed his last. With his dying word 
 he paid this tribute to his foe : " Since 
 it was my misfortune to be discomfited 
 and mortally wounded, it is a great con 
 solation to be vanquished by so great 
 and generous an enemy. If I could sur 
 vive this wound, I would engage to beat 
 three times the number of such forces as 
 I commanded, with a third of their num 
 ber of British troops." 
 
 De Vaudreuil, on reaching Cape Rouge 
 where he had retreated and joined his 
 forces to those of De Bougainville, grand 
 iloquently expressed the opinion to the 
 assembled officers, that " they should take 
 their revenge on the morrow, and endeav 
 or to wipe off the disgraces of the day. 
 The council, however, more discreetly re 
 solved upon continuing the retreat, and 
 De Vaudreuil himself was not backward 
 in giving in his adhesion to the prudent 
 resolve. They retired to Point aux Trem 
 bles, where they were soon joined by De 
 L e vi and his troops from Montreal, whence 
 he had commenced his march as soon as 
 he heard of Montcalm s defeat. After this 
 junction there was a momentary feeling 
 of hope, and the generals wrote to Rain- 
 say, in command of the garrison at Que 
 bec : " We exhort you by all means to 
 hold out to the last extremity. On the 
 18th [September] the whole army shall 
 be in motion. A disposition is made to 
 throw in a large supply of provisions, and 
 to relieve the town." It was too late : 
 Quebec was surrendered on the very 
 morning (September 18, 1759) that De 
 
132 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 Vaudreuil s messenger reached the gates 
 of the citadel. 
 
 The joyful news of Wolfe s great vic 
 tory was received in England with a uni 
 versal acclamation of delight. " You may 
 now give yourself," writes Walpole to the 
 British embassador at the Hague (Sir H. 
 Mann), " what airs you please ; you are 
 
 master of East and West Indies It 
 
 was a very singular affair, the generals 
 on both sides slain, and on both sides the 
 second in command wounded in short, 
 very near what battles should be, in 
 which only the principals ought to suffer. 
 If their army has not ammunition and 
 spirit enough to fall again upon ours be 
 fore Amherst comes up, all North Amer 
 ica is ours ! . . . . What a scene ! an army 
 in the night dragging itself up a preci 
 pice by stumps of trees, to assault a town 
 and attack an army strongly intrenched 
 and double in numbers. Adieu ! I think 
 I shall not write to you again this twelve 
 month ; for, like Alexander, we have no 
 more worlds left to conquer." 
 
 Pitt, the great minister, in the afflu 
 ence of his glowing rhetoric, spoke to 
 the British senate of " the horror of the 
 night; the precipice scaled by Wolfe; the 
 empire he with a handful of men added 
 to England ; and the glorious catastro 
 phe of contentedly terminating life where 
 his fame began. . . . Ancient story may be 
 ransacked, and ostentatious philosophy 
 thrown into the account, before an epi 
 sode can be found to rank with Wolfe s 1" 
 These eloquent words of Pitt prefaced 
 his motion that a monument should be 
 erected in Westminster Abbey to the 
 memory of the hero. The British people, 
 
 LFAKT i 
 
 pious, grateful, and exultant, joined in 
 public thanksgiving to God for the vic 
 tory ; bestowed, through their represen 
 tatives in Parliament, a liberal largess 
 upon Wolfe s family ; and raised with one 
 voice, throughout England s wide domin 
 ions, a burst of triumph on a day set 
 apart for holyday rejoicing. In West 
 minster Abbe}^, sculptured art and classic 
 learning record the gratitude and sorrow 
 of Great Britain. A tall column of stone 
 rises above the heights of Quebec, to tes 
 tify to the taste and feeling of a noble 
 Englishman. A small stone, planted on 
 the plains of Abraham, tells the traveller 
 that " HERE WOLFE DIED VICTORIOUS." But 
 the memory of Wolfe requires neither 
 sculptured art, nor lofty column, nor tab 
 let of stone : it is fixed for ever in the 
 hearts of all who love the good and the 
 brave. 
 
 " Who the deuce was thinking of Que 
 bec ?" asks Walpole. " America was like 
 a book one had read and done with, or, 
 at least, if we looked at the book, one 
 just recollected that there was a supple 
 ment promised, to contain a chapter on 
 Montreal, the starving and surrender of it; 
 but here we are on a sudden reading our 
 book backward. An account came two 
 days ago" (Walpole is writing on the 20th 
 June), "that the French, on their march 
 to besiege Quebec, had been attacked by 
 General Murray, who got into a mistake 
 and a morass, attacked two bodies that 
 were joined when he hoped to come up 
 with one of them before he was enclosed, 
 enibogged, and defeated." The gossiping 
 Walpole thus tells the whole story in a 
 pleasant way. All we have to add is 
 
COLONIAL.] 
 
 AMHERST S EXPEDITION. 
 
 133 
 
 1760. 
 
 that Murray, who had been left in 
 command, did foolishly march out 
 with his small force against De Levi s 
 troops, ten thousand strong, and was beat 
 en back within the walls of Quebec, which 
 would probably have fallen, had not a 
 British fleet arrived, sailed up the St. 
 Lawrence, and driven away the French 
 besiegers encamped upon its banks. 
 
 General Amherst (now Sir Jeffrey Am- 
 herst), calm, cautious, and slow, had moved 
 too deliberately to satisfy the impulsive 
 spirit of Wolfe. He had, however in 
 time to complete the conquest of Canada 
 succeeded in concentrating his large 
 force of over ten thousand men, including 
 the provincials under Gage and the In 
 dians led by Sir William Johnson, on the 
 shores of Lake Ontario, from the waters 
 of which two British ships had driven the 
 French cruisers, and forced them to seek 
 refuge in the intricate and labyrinthine 
 channels of the " Thousand Isles." 
 
 On the 7th of August, the grenadiers 
 and light-troops, including a battalion of 
 Highlanders, were sent forward, to post 
 themselves at the end of the lake, where 
 the St. Lawrence receives its waters. 
 On the 10th, Amherst in person followed, 
 with the remainder of the regulars and 
 the Indians; but the lagging Gage did 
 not come up with his provincials until 
 the 12th, when the whole army was gath 
 ered at La Galette, on the banks of the 
 St. Lawrence. 
 
 Embarked once more, the whole force 
 dropped down the river to Isle Royale, 
 capturing on their way a French cruiser, 
 which was spiritedly attacked by some 
 soldiers in the whale-boats, and gallantly 
 
 Aug. 23 
 
 carried. Fort Levi, on the island, was 
 still in possession of the enemy, and, 
 though invested by Amherst s 
 immense force, with all the reg 
 ularities of a siege, and a severe cannon 
 ade opened, was so spiritedly defended 
 by its little garrison, that one of the Brit 
 ish vessels was obliged to strike her col 
 ors. Amherst, checked by this unex 
 pected vigor on the part of the French, 
 put off the assault until the next day. 
 In the meantime, the French command 
 ant, finding that it was impossible to hold 
 out long against the overwhelming force 
 of his assailants, surrendered at discre 
 tion. 
 
 When the fort was given up, Johnson s 
 Indians, who had been thirsting to wreak 
 their vengeance upon the Frenchmen, 
 would have begun their cruel work, had 
 not Amherst, with a noble humanity, in 
 terposed. He immediately gave orders 
 to Sir William to deter the savages, if pos 
 sible, from their purpose, promising them 
 all the stores found in the fort ; but warn 
 ing them, at the same time, that if they 
 persisted, he would restrain them by force. 
 The Indians, in sullen submission, return 
 ed to their camp, but fiercely resented 
 the interference ; and Sir William John 
 son informed the general that they would 
 probably quit the army. Amherst an 
 swered : " Although I wish to retain their 
 friendship, I will not purchase it at the 
 expense of countenancing barbarity ; and 
 tell them that, if they commit any acts 
 of cruelty on their return home from the 
 army, I will assuredly chastise them."* 
 The Indians left him, but the humane 
 
 * Wai-burton. 
 
134 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART i 
 
 Amherst won a triumph worth more than 
 hundreds of bloody victories. 
 
 Levelling the captured works on Isle 
 Royale, the troops descended the stream, 
 and entered the turbulent and dangerous 
 passage of the Cedars. As the heavily- 
 laden boats got among the broken rocks 
 and boiling eddies, they were so crowd 
 ed and tossed together, that some were 
 swamped, and others dashed to pieces. 
 Sixty-four, laden with artillery and stores, 
 were in this manner lost, and eighty men 
 drowned. 
 
 On landing upon the island 
 of Montreal, the French retired 
 within the walls of the city, and Amherst 
 invested the place. Murray in the mean 
 time had sailed from Quebec, with all the 
 disposable force which could be spared, 
 and joined Amherst on the 7th of Sep 
 tember, with twenty-four hundred and 
 fifty of the conquerors of Quebec. Colo- 
 
 t* 
 
 Sept, 8. 
 
 nel Haviland, who had come from Crown 
 Point, arrived the next day with another 
 body of troops, and now upon the island 
 of Montreal were gathered sixteen thou 
 sand British. The marquis de Vaudreuil, 
 who had fled to Montreal after Wolfe s 
 conquest of Quebec, now gave 
 up all in despair, and signed a 
 capitulation, by which all Canada was 
 lost to France for ever. 
 
 After long negotiations, protracted by 
 the expansive demands of the imperious 
 Pitt, the war between Great Britain and 
 France ceased with the treaty 
 of peace at Paris, in 1763. The 
 French ministry yielded with reluctance ; 
 and the proud Choiseul, who resigned his 
 place, asked, despairingly: "But what 
 can we do ? The English are furiously 
 imperious ; they are drunk with success 
 and, unfortunately, we are not in a con 
 dition to abase their pride." 
 
 END OF PART I 
 
P A E T IT. 
 
 1775 TO 1783. 
 
PART II 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Representation and Taxation. Tyranny of Great Britain. Resistance of Massachusetts. The Stamp-Act. The Tea- 
 Party. Boston Port-Bill. Starvation. General Gage. His Life and Character. Gage s Proceedings. His Seizures. 
 Fortification of Boston. Indignation and Vigilance of the Patriots. Secret Designs discovered. March on Con 
 cord. The Struggle. Lexington. The Conflict. The Excitement throughout the Country. The Return of the 
 British toward Boston. Galled by the Patriots. 
 
 1774, 
 
 " THEY say you have no right to 
 tax them without their consent. 
 They say truly. Representation and tax 
 ation must go together : they are insepa 
 rable."* This was the American cause : 
 Representation and taxation must go together 
 a cause which the colonists, almost 
 with one voice, had now determined to 
 seal with their blood. British Tyranny 
 resolved to force submission. American 
 Liberty determined to oppose resistance. 
 The struggle began. Battles were fought, 
 and continued to be fought, until inde 
 pendence was won. These it is our pur 
 pose to record, to which we shall proceed 
 now without further preface. 
 
 General Thomas Gage, having been ap 
 pointed captain-general and governor of 
 Massachusetts, was now at Boston, in 
 command of the British troops ; while 
 English men-of-war floated threateningly 
 in the harbor. He hid been selected by 
 the government of Great Britain to en- 
 
 * Earl Chatham s speech in the house of lords. 
 18 
 
 force, by threats if possible, by violence 
 if necessary, the obedience of New Eng 
 land to the tyrannical edicts of the moth 
 er-country. The people of Massachusetts 
 had been the first although the other 
 colonies showed the same spirit of inde 
 pendence to resist, by overt act, the 
 tyrannical exercise of British authority. 
 They, in common with the rest of the 
 people of the provinces, had contented 
 themselves with opposing, by petition 
 and protest, the stamp-act ; and, on its 
 repeal, only exhibited their spirit of in 
 dependence by a burst of joy. The ex 
 ultation of these lovers of liberty was, 
 however, soon vexed into the excitement 
 of passionate resistance by other tyran 
 nical acts of Great Britain. The colonists 
 now, almost with one voice, determined 
 upon retaliation. They would punish the 
 mother-country by not consuming her 
 products, and thus weaken her strength 
 by diminishing her revenue. Great Brit 
 ain, in spite of her suffering trade and 
 
138 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 commerce, and the urgent appeals of her 
 men of business to change her odious co 
 lonial policy, madly persisted., and strove 
 to compel where she had failed to per 
 suade. 
 
 An effort was made to force upon the 
 colonies the consumption of tea. A cargo 
 arrived at Boston. A "tea-party" was 
 formed, composed of fifty men "very 
 dark-complexioned persons, dressed like 
 Mohawks, of very grotesque appearance." 
 With an Indian whoop, these Bostonians 
 and "solid men" they were rushed 
 to the wharf, boarded the ships, and in 
 the course of two hours threw into the 
 river three hundred and forty-two chests 
 of tea. This was no impulsive act of riot, 
 but the deliberate proceeding of men of 
 determined character, appointed to carry 
 out the calm resolutions of their fellow- 
 townsmen. 
 
 The tea-proceeding, when heard of in 
 England, was received with applause by 
 the friends of liberty, and with indigna 
 tion by the government and its favorites. 
 Tyranny now suggested an act of oppres 
 sion as a punishment for those who had 
 dared to disobey its caprices. It was 
 readily acceded to, with the object of re 
 ducing the people of Boston to " starva 
 tion" a word then first coined, in the 
 British Parliament, by a tory member, 
 whose inveteracy of hate could find no 
 expression in the English language suffi 
 ciently strong to bear the impress of his 
 cruel purpose. The punishment of Bos 
 ton came in the form of the " Boston pori> 
 bill," the object of which was to deprive 
 the refractory town of its privileges and 
 rights as a place of commerce. Gage 
 
 and his British soldiers were now on the 
 spot to carry that bill into execution. 
 
 Gage had proved himself a gallant sol 
 dier in the unfortunate campaign of Brad- 
 dock ; but he was nothing else than a 
 soldier, with all the decided sentiments 
 in favor of absolute authority engendered 
 by a long military life. lie was, more 
 over, a thorough aristocrat in feeling, and 
 a tory by political association. He did 
 not understand what "the mob" (as he 
 called the people), as long as they had 
 enough work, and could eat and drink 
 abundantly, had to do with political prin 
 ciples. Their whole public duty, he be 
 lieved, was obedience. To govern, or 
 even to say who w r as to govern, w r as not 
 their vocation. Gage, however, should 
 have learned something of the character 
 of the American colonists. He had been 
 a good deal among them, and had mar 
 ried a native lady of New York. But, 
 nevertheless, he did not understand them, 
 and seemed as unconscious as the khan 
 of Tartary of the devotion of Americans 
 to liberty, and of their resolute firmness 
 to defend it against any oppressor. His 
 associations in the colonies were too much 
 with the loyalists, who were always fawn 
 ing about royal governors, and whisper 
 ing into their ears what w r ould flattering 
 ly exaggerate the self-importance of the 
 dignitary, and contemptuously depreci 
 ate " the rabble." In New York he had 
 found among his kindred, and the pre 
 tentious aristocracy of its tory society, a 
 more obsequious courtiership than ever 
 licked royal hands at the court of St. 
 James. He was now in Puritan New 
 England ; and while among his own suite. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 CHARACTER OF GAGE. 
 
 139 
 
 and surrounded by a few exceptional 
 Massachusetts tories, he did not seem to 
 be conscious of the difference in his po 
 sition. He took no account of the great 
 body of the Puritan people, who had 
 learned from their ancestors, under the 
 orders of Cromwell, and the teachings of 
 Milton, those principles of liberty which 
 they carried with them to America, and 
 taught their children not only to vener 
 ate, but to guard, at all hazards of life 
 or fortune, against the oppressor. 
 
 It was claimed for Gage that he was a 
 man naturally frank, and of a gay, social 
 disposition. This he may have been, 
 among those he considered his " equals," 
 but to his "inferiors" he was haughty 
 and arrogant. He was, in fact, in every 
 thing except capacity, a perfect instru 
 ment to compel " a full and absolute sub 
 mission" to the tyrannical acts of his mas 
 ters. With his British troops to back 
 him, he did not hesitate at fulfilling the 
 most cruel purpose of despotism. 
 
 Gage, in common with most British 
 officers and many British statesmen, held 
 the colonial opposition in great contempt. 
 The American leaders were, in his opin 
 ion, without capacity, their followers with 
 out courage. While he thus increased 
 the hostility against him, he diminished 
 his power of resistance. Gage never just 
 ly appreciated the sentiments or rightly 
 measured the strength of his enemies. :i: 
 While the Americans declared "No dan 
 ger shall affright, no difficulties shall in 
 timidate us ; and if, in support of our 
 
 * " General Gage, in his private letters, encouraged the 
 ministers to be firm, and that if they would be so, they would 
 prevail." WALPOLE. 
 
 rights, we are called to encounter even 
 death, we are yet undaunted, sensible 
 that he can never die too soon who lays 
 down his life in support of the laws and 
 liberties of his country" Gage called 
 the authors of these heroic resolves " a 
 despicable rabble," and undertook to keep 
 them quiet with five regiments, saying, 
 " The Americans will be lions only as long 
 as the English are lambs !" So, too, a 
 Colonel Grant, who until then was only 
 known in America by his folly which 
 had nearly ruined the expedition under 
 Forbes against Fort Du Quesne now, 
 with the attempted wisdom of a counsel 
 lor, declared that the Americans were 
 cowards. "With five regiments," said 
 this braggadocio to the assembled Parlia 
 ment of England, " I could march through 
 all America." Truth, however, was burst 
 ing from the eloquent lips of Lord Chat 
 ham almost at the same moment and 
 within the same walls : " My lords," said 
 the great orator, "there are three mil 
 lions of whigs. Three millions of whigs. 
 my lords, with arms in their hands, are 
 a very formidable body." But English 
 Tyranny closed its ears and eyes to truth, 
 and rushed recklessly on to destruction. 
 The king said loudly, and with a scornful 
 laugh, that " he had as lief fight the Bos- 
 tonians as the French." " Corruption," 
 wrote Walpole in England, " smiled, and 
 was not afraid of swords at such a dis 
 tance." 
 
 On the first day of the operation of the 
 " Boston pori^bill," the people contented 
 themselves with signifying their 
 
 o / o 
 
 affliction at this invasion of their 
 rights by tolling their church-bells, by 
 
140 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 TART li 
 
 Augusti 
 
 fasting and prayer, and by hanging their 
 houses and public buildings with crape. 
 It was not until those further acts of the 
 British Parliament which virtually de 
 stroyed the charter of Massachusetts 
 deprived the people of the right of pub 
 lic meetings, thus cutting away the scaf 
 folding of English freedom, and interfered 
 with the trial by jury, that an armed re 
 sistance was determined upon. A meet 
 ing was held at Faneuil hall, composed 
 of delegates from various parts of 
 Massachusetts. It was by them 
 resolved that " a provincial Congress is 
 necessary to counteract the systems of 
 despotism, and that, as a necessary means 
 to secure the rights of the people, the 
 military art ought to be attentively prac 
 tised." A provincial Congress was ac 
 cordingly held ; the militia mustered, and, 
 arming themselves, prepared for resistr 
 ance. 
 
 Gage, not satisfied with dissolving meet 
 ings at Boston with his soldiers, seized 
 the artillery and ammunition which be 
 longed to the city, and thus greatly ex 
 cited the indignation of the townspeople. 
 The seizure of the powder was magnified, 
 by the excited imaginations of the Mas 
 sachusetts men, into a cannonade of Bos 
 ton ; and the neighboring colonists began 
 to ring their alarm-bells, light up the bea 
 con-fires, and hurry in armed crowds to the 
 scene of the supposed danger. Gage him 
 self became anxious, and wrote to the gov 
 ernment at home that " the flames of se 
 dition had spread universally throughout 
 the country, beyond conception ;" that 
 " civil government was near its end ;" and 
 that " the time for conciliation, rnodera- 
 
 1775, 
 
 tion, reasoning, was over." Nothing now, 
 he believed, could be done but by force, 
 and this he resolved upon using. " The 
 torrent should be stemmed, not yielded 
 to."* The Massachusetts people were, in 
 their turn, making preparations for the 
 struggle, by disciplining their militia, and 
 collecting together their arms and am 
 munition. 
 
 Gage, strengthened by addition 
 al troops, had fortified Boston neck, 
 and turned the city into a camp, where 
 his four thousand men stacked their guns 
 in Faneuil hall, and converted the church 
 es into mess-rooms. He now decided up 
 on a movement, by which he hoped to 
 overwhelm the Massachusetts men, and 
 put an end to their means of mischief. 
 His plan was, to take the colonists by 
 surprise, and destroy their magazine of 
 arms and ammunition at Concord, some 
 eighteen miles from Boston. Gage em 
 ployed every possible means to keep his 
 purpose secret. He sent out his officers 
 in disguise to make sketches, and to bring 
 back reports of the position of Concord, 
 its strength, and the various approaches 
 to the place. He also determined, in or 
 der to further conceal his design, to make 
 the attack under the cover of the night. 
 
 The patriots were vigilant, and became 
 conscious of Gage s movements. They 
 accordingly strengthened their guard at 
 Concord,and removed some of their stores 
 secretly to other places. Gage continued 
 
 * Gage was, however, seemingly not without some sense 
 of discretion, for Walpole records : " It was said, on Gen 
 eral Gage receiving orders to sei/e and send over hither the 
 chief patriots, he had for answer that, should he attempt to 
 do any such thing, that would be the last letter the . vould 
 ever receive from him, for he should be knocked on the 
 head." 
 
.REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 HANCOCK AND ADAMS. 
 
 141 
 
 his preparations, but each act of his was 
 watched closely by the alert patriots; and, 
 seeing the boats one night launched and 
 
 moored under the sterns of the 
 April 15, 
 
 British men-ot-war, took care to 
 
 send intelligence of the fact to Concord. 
 A few days after, some English officers 
 were sent out on the roads leading from 
 Boston, to prevent any messengers going 
 out to carry information of the proposed 
 expedition. 
 
 The night finally arrived. When elev 
 en o clock struck, some nine hun 
 dred of the choicest of the Brit 
 ish troops, under the command of Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Smith, embarked in small 
 boats at the foot of Boston common, and, 
 landing near Lechmere point,began their 
 silent march to Concord. 
 
 The patriots, however, were on the 
 alert. Warren, the Boston physician 
 whose whole soul was in the cause, and 
 who was one of the most active members 
 of the committee of safety had already 
 sent messengers to his friends at Concord; 
 and when the British embarked, he or 
 dered the lantern, which was agreed up 
 on as the signal, to be hoisted from the 
 steeple of the North church in Boston. 
 Gage, much to his surprise, discovered 
 that his secret was known. Having com 
 municated his design in the evening to 
 Lord Percy, that officer retired, and was 
 on his way to his quarters, when, crossing 
 the common, he fell in with a group of 
 citizens in earnest conversation, in the 
 course of which one was heard to say, 
 "The British troops have marched, but 
 will miss their aim!" "What aim?" 
 asked his lordship. " Why. the cannon 
 
 at Concord," was the answer. Percy re 
 turned at once to Gage, and told what 
 he had heard, when orders were immedi 
 ately issued that no person should be al 
 lowed to leave the town. It was, how 
 ever, too late : the vigilant Warren had 
 already despatched a couple of messen 
 gers, and given orders for the hoisting of 
 the warning lantern. 
 
 The whole country was aroused. The 
 town of Lexington, through which the 
 road to Concord passed, was especially 
 on the alert ; and its minute-men, to the 
 number of about a hundred and thirty, 
 turned out in the middle of the night, 
 and were assembled together on the com 
 mon until two o clock in the morning, 
 with their guns " loaded with powder and 
 ball." At this time a messenger returned, 
 with the word that no troops had yet 
 shown themselves on the road. Accord 
 ingly, as the morning was chilly, the men 
 were dismissed to a neighboring tavern, 
 with orders to make their appearance 
 on the first sound of the drum. The 
 tAvo messengers, who had been sent on to 
 give Concord the alarm, were met by a 
 party of British officers, when a scuffle 
 ensued, and one of the patriots was taken 
 prisoner ; while the other succeeded in 
 escaping by leaping a stone-wall, and, 
 running off, made his way to the place 
 where Hancock and Samuel Adams had 
 temporarily concealed themselves. 
 
 These two, Hancock and Adams, both 
 men of distinction in Boston, had early 
 made themselves conspicuous as earnest 
 friends of the popular cause ; and, as theii 
 safety was regarded as of the utmost im 
 portance, they were induced to hide them 
 
142 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 selves from observation, lest they should 
 be taken prisoners by the British. Dor 
 othea Quincy, Hancock s betrothed, in 
 sisted upon accompanying them, and she 
 was now with the two patriots ; and the 
 three were sitting down to an " elegant 
 dinner" at the house of a friend, when 
 suddenly a man broke in upon them with 
 a shriek, and the alarm was given that 
 the regulars were upon them. Hancock 
 and Adams were then led along a cart- 
 way to another and more humble house, 
 where they were glad to make up for 
 their lost spread of good things, by a dish 
 of " salt pork and potatoes." 
 
 In the meantime, the British troops, 
 under LieutenantrColonel Smith, were 
 fast approaching. The route they had 
 taken led them through a morass, into 
 which the men plunged waist-deep until 
 they reached the high-road to Charles- 
 town. Their midnight march was cau 
 tious and stealthy ; not a drum was al 
 lowed to beat, nor a fife to sound. Some 
 members of the provincial Congress, stop 
 ping at a roadside inn, where they had 
 been holding a "rebel" conclave, aware 
 of the approach of the troops, were up, 
 and silently watching the soldiers as they 
 carne on. The front ranks passed by 
 steadily, but with measured tread. The 
 centre, however, no sooner reached a 
 point opposite to the tavern, than there 
 was a halt ; and, directly, an officer and 
 a file of men were seen advancing to the 
 house. But the " rebels" were too quick 
 for them; and, while the soldiers were 
 ransacking the tavern, those of whom 
 they were in search were in a field hard 
 by, securely hid from their pursuers. 
 
 The British commander soon discov 
 ered that all the precautions which had 
 been taken to keep the expedition a se 
 cret had failed. Although it was night, 
 the whole country was aroused. Every 
 church was ringing its bells, beacon-fires 
 were blazing, and signal-guns firing. The 
 British officers who had been on the road, 
 on a tour of observation, now joined the 
 troops, and reported that at least five 
 hundred of the " rebels" were in arms, in 
 readiness for the attack. Smith sent Ma 
 jor Pitcairn forward with six companies 
 of light-infantry, to secure the bridges at 
 Concord ; and an orderly back to Gage, 
 at Boston, for a reinforcement. Pitcairn 
 pressed on hurriedly, only stopping on 
 the road to capture any straggler he 
 could pick up. One man, however, was 
 too much on the alert to be caught ; for. 
 getting a glimpse of the British coming 
 up the road, he turned his horse, and, 
 laying on his whip, galloped into Lexing 
 ton, with the news that the "red-coats" 
 were at hand. 
 
 Captain Parker ordered his drums to 
 beat, and alarm-guns to be fired immedi 
 ately; and soon the minute-men began 
 to turn out and to muster on the ground 
 about the meetinghouse. These men 
 formed a part of that resolute band 
 "the constitutional army" which had 
 been authorized to make a forcible and 
 regular resistance to any hostility by the 
 British soldiery ; and there they were 
 ready to do their country s bidding. Be 
 fore they had fairly mustered and formed, 
 the British were in sight, at a short dis 
 tance from the ground. 
 
 Pitcairn, seeing the assemblage, and 
 
REVOLUTION ART.] 
 
 BLOOD FLOWS AT LEXINGTON. 
 
 14* 
 
 hearing the drums of the patriots, halted 
 his troops and ordered them to load. He 
 then brought them on in double quick 
 time. Some sixty or seventy only of the 
 minute-men had mustered and found time 
 to present an orderly rank in front, when 
 the regulars rushed forward, shouting., 
 with their commander at their head, wa 
 ving his sword, and crying out : " Ye vil 
 lains ! ye rebels! disperse! Lay down 
 your arms! Why don t you lay down 
 your arms ?" Two or three shots were 
 now fired, but without effect. Then en 
 sued a general volley, by which some of 
 the minute-men were killed and wound 
 ed. Their fellow-patriots now no longer 
 withheld their fire, which they had hith 
 erto done in obedience to the command 
 of Parker, their captain. Their shots, 
 however, were straggling, and did little 
 damage, only wounding two of the pri 
 vates and the horse of the British major. 
 The regulars fired with much greater ef 
 fect, killing eight, wounding ten, and put 
 ting the rest to flight. One daring fellow, 
 who had always said "he never would 
 run from the British," though wounded, 
 stood his ground, and, while loading his 
 piece, was thrust through and through by 
 a bayonet, and died on the spot where 
 he had so firmly planted himself. An 
 other was pursued to the road facing the 
 common, and was struck down by a shot 
 within view of his own house. The blood 
 was gushing from his breast, but he start 
 ed up, and stretching out his hands tow 
 ard his wife, who was at the window, 
 staggered a moment, and fell again. 
 Striving once more to stand, he could 
 only succeed in raising himself upon his 
 
 hands and knees, and thus crawled tow 
 ard the door of his dwelling. His wife 
 was there to meet him, but only to see 
 him dying at her feet. 
 
 The British now formed on the com 
 mon, and, exulting in their " victory," fired 
 a feu-de-joie, gave three loud huzzas, and 
 marched on toward Concord. There were 
 two thoughtful observers of this Lexing 
 ton affair, in a house near by, who could 
 have told the British that this was no 
 time for exultation. They knew, with 
 the foresight of wisdom, that no defeat, 
 ever suffered by English troops, was so 
 disastrous as this " victory." Samuel Ad 
 ams and John Hancock saAV, in the blood 
 which flowed at Lexington, that which 
 was to cement the colonies into an indis 
 soluble union, and thus secure a founda 
 tion upon which to establish the great 
 hope of their patriotic hearts the inde 
 pendence of America. " Oh, what a glo 
 rious morning is this !" exclaimed Adams, 
 as he walked abroad ; for, although his 
 countrymen were falling, and he and his 
 companion were driven from home and 
 fortune by the cruelty of tyrants, he saw 
 that that morning w r ould be "glorious" 
 for all time, as the first gleam of the per 
 petual light of American liberty. 
 
 The provincials, though put to flight, 
 did not lose heart. Some retreated along 
 the road, but the most gathered again on 
 a height to the north of the Lexington 
 common, formed readily under their lead 
 er, and eagerly awaited his orders to go 
 when and where their country required 
 their services. The British, once again on 
 the road to Concord, were joined by the 
 rest of the troops, under their colonel. 
 
144 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART n 
 
 Concord, as it appeared in those days, 
 was a town covering considerable space, 
 between two hills which completely com 
 manded it. It had its church, jail, and 
 courthouse; and its dwellings, though not 
 very numerous, were scattered over a 
 large expanse of ground. Through the 
 town winds sluggishly the Concord river, 
 which was crossed by two bridges, the 
 north and the south, as they w T ere called. 
 The British had determined to possess 
 themselves of these bridges, so that they 
 might cut off all approach to the town, 
 while they should be engaged in destroy 
 ing the magazines and military stores 
 there collected and guarded by the pro 
 vincials. 
 
 The town, however, was on the alert. 
 The people had been timely warned, and, 
 when they heard of the skirmish at Lex 
 ington, were roused to fierce indignation. 
 The militia were for marching immedi 
 ately to meet the British on the road, 
 and they accordingly started ; but, on dis 
 covering that the numbers of the enemy 
 amounted to treble their own force, they 
 fell back and took up their position on a 
 high ground which rises to the north, not 
 far from the centre of the town. There 
 they stood, around the liberty-pole lately 
 raised, and awaited the approach of those 
 who came as determined enemies to that 
 freedom of which it was the emblem. 
 
 Concord was but six miles distant from 
 Lexington ; and it was still early when 
 the British troops carne marching in, with 
 
 drums beating, fla^s flying and 
 Aoril 19 
 
 with the light of the morning 
 
 sun reflected glitteringly upon their pol 
 ished guns and gilded accoutrements. 
 
 Many of the militia were for giving 
 fight at once ; but their commander, Colo 
 nel Barrett, checked their reckless enthu 
 siasm, and prudently withdrew his men 
 when the enemy were seen advancing, 
 within a quarter of a mile. Barrett con 
 ducted his force along the road which led 
 to the north bridge, and, having crossed 
 the Concord river, drew them up on the 
 high ground about a mile from the cen 
 tre of the town. 
 
 On the British now coming up, one di 
 vision posted itself on the hill just left 
 by the provincials, arid the rest of the 
 troops continued their march along the 
 main road until they reached the centre 
 of the town. The enemy now began 
 their work. Two hundred men were de 
 tached to hold the north bridge, and pre 
 vent the advance of the militia ; another 
 party took possession of the south bridge. 
 The rest of the troops were occupied in 
 carrying out the especial object of their 
 visit. Some were sent to the house of 
 Barrett, the militia-colonel, on the out 
 skirts of the town, to destroy the military 
 stores concealed there. The remainder 
 went about their work of destruction in 
 the town itself. Threescore or less of 
 barrels of flour were staved in, three can 
 non were spiked and otherwise maltreat 
 ed, some sixteen carriage-wheels were 
 burnt to cinders, three or four barrelsful 
 of wooden spoons reduced to ashes, the 
 liberty-pole felled, the courthouse set on 
 fire, but put out by a woman with a pail 
 of water, and half a thousand iron balls 
 rolled into the river. " These," says Gor 
 don, " were all the stores they could dis 
 cover and destroy ; on the account of 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.} 
 
 STRUGGLE ON CONCORD BRIDGE. 
 
 145 
 
 which a civil war has commenced be 
 tween the colonies and the parent-state. 
 The inhabitants of Britain may see rea 
 son, for many ages, to cnrse the memory 
 of the man or men who has or have been 
 at the foundation of this fatal catastrophe, 
 should they ever be known." While the 
 British troops were thus occupied for a 
 couple of hours, the provincials were not 
 less busy. 
 
 The neighboring towns and country, 
 fully alive to the doings of the English 
 soldiery, began to send in their " minute- 
 men," as the militia were called, until the 
 force of patriots on the hill numbered 
 nearly five hundred. These, in addition 
 to the Lexington people, were composed 
 of men from Carlisle, Chemlsford, West- 
 ford, Littleton, and Acton. They were 
 farmers, tradesmen, mechanics, from six 
 teen years of age to sixty, who came in 
 with their guns with which they had oft 
 en followed the Indian, the bear, and the 
 wolf; and many of them were dressed in 
 the homespun suits which had been wo 
 ven at their own winter firesides. Even 
 the clergy presented themselves, and, al 
 though debarred by their calling from 
 active hostilities, did what they could in 
 giving advice to the men, and quieting 
 the alarms of the women and children. 
 
 The militia-officers joined in council, 
 when it was proposed to dislodge the en 
 emy from the north bridge. One ardent 
 captain declared that he "hadn t a man 
 that was afraid to go." The British sol 
 diers could be easily seen, and their do 
 ings were watched with painful anxiety. 
 As the fires began to blaze, and it was 
 observed that the meetinghouse had al- 
 
 19 
 
 ready caught, the people began to fear 
 for their town and their homes. The 
 militia were eager to rush to their res 
 cue ; and accordingly, without more ado, 
 Colonel Barrett ordered his men to the 
 north bridge, and to strive to pass it, but 
 not to fire a shot unless they were first at 
 tacked. In double file, and with trailed 
 arms, the detachment moved on. 
 
 The British on the bridge, observing 
 the advance of the provincials, retired to 
 the east side of the river, and began to 
 remove the planks. The American ma 
 jor in command of the militia, as he ap 
 proached, cried out to the enemy to stop 
 doing what he claimed they had no right 
 to do, and hurried on his men to prevent 
 it. When the provincials had reached 
 within a few feet of the bridge, the Britr 
 ish troops began to fire, but with no effect, 
 as but few guns were let off, and with no 
 fixed aim. A second and fuller volley 
 succeeded, and with a different result, 
 killing two of the provincials and wound 
 ing a third. Their captain now cried out, 
 " Fire, fellow-soldiers ! for God s sake, fire !" 
 when his men, true to the word, did fire, 
 and brought down a number of the ene 
 my. The British then fled, and the pro 
 vincials after them, when a thoughtless 
 lad, coming up with a wounded grena 
 dier, struck him on the head and dashed 
 out his brains. 
 
 The provincials did not continue their 
 pursuit far ; but, dividing, one party went 
 back with their dead and wounded, while 
 the rest proceeded on the road and took 
 up their position on a height which over 
 looked it. Smith, the British colonel, 
 now gathered together his force, and pre- 
 
146 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_> AET II. 
 
 pared to return to Boston, but lingered 
 at Concord nearly two hours before he 
 commenced his march. This delay near 
 ly proved the total destruction of his 
 whole force. 
 
 All the country round was now in a 
 state of great excitement, and every man 
 was eager to rush to the rescue of the 
 patriot cause. Each village was alive 
 with preparation. All the inhabitants 
 turned out, and there was hardly a man 
 under seventy and above sixteen years 
 of age who did not shoulder his musket 
 and present himself for parade on the 
 church green. Thence, after a blessing 
 from their pastor, they were marched off 
 to the scene of action. Although the 
 most were fresh from their farms and 
 shops, and knew little of military disci 
 pline but what they had learned in an oc 
 casional militia muster, there were among 
 them some gray-headed veterans who had 
 fought at Louisburg and Quebec. They 
 were all, however, more or less familiar 
 with the use of firearms, and had become 
 practised shots in pursuit of the game 
 which abounded in the yet uncleared 
 foresi>wilds. With a sober determination 
 to make the cause of their country a ho 
 ly one, each man dwelt with pertinacious 
 conscientiousness upon the fact that " the 
 regulars had fired the first." The blow 
 having been given, they all prepared to 
 return it. None now talked of forbear 
 ance or peace. Every voice was urgent 
 for war. 
 
 It was mid-day before the British colo 
 nel began his march, and he was soon 
 convinced of and greatly startled by the 
 hubbub he had created throughout the 
 
 country. So full were the roads and hill 
 sides of the armed provincials, that it ap 
 peared to the British as if "men had 
 dropped from the clouds." Smith threw 
 out a flank-guard on the side of the main 
 road, to protect his march ; but in the 
 woods, on each hill, and behind every 
 wall, there were gathered the vigilant 
 provincials, who with a sure aim were 
 bringing down a British soldier at every 
 step. The enemy suffered terribly as 
 they advanced for miles between two 
 fires, which were incessant from both 
 sides of the road. The British quickened 
 their march almost to a run, but this 
 only served to hasten their death, as they 
 offered themselves more rapidly to the 
 successive shots of the American marks 
 men. Smith, the British colonel, was se 
 verely wounded ; and another officer, on 
 a fine blood-horse, while brandishing his 
 sword and urging on his men, was killed 
 by a shot from behind a rail-fence. As 
 his rider fell dead, the horse ran in his 
 fright toward the fence, leaped it, and 
 joined the provincials. Just as the troops 
 were hastening into Lexington, one of 
 the British soldiers lagged behind, and, 
 falling in w r ith a militia-man, levelled his 
 musket and cried out, "You re a dead 
 man!" "So are you!" was the answer. 
 Both fired at the same instant, and both 
 were killed. 
 
 The British troops, thus constantly 
 galled by this incessant and most fatal 
 fire along the road, began to lose all self- 
 command, and, as they approached Lex 
 ington, became so confused and disor 
 dered by their suffering and despair, that 
 they would have fled precipitately, had 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 PERCY TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 147 
 
 not their officers placed themselves in 
 front, and threatened the men with in 
 stant death if they moved without or 
 
 ders. At this moment a welcome relief 
 presented itself, in a reinforcement from 
 Boston. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Lord Perry to the Rescue. Dancing to " Chevy Chase." His Lordship s Arrival at Lexington. General Heath arrives 
 and takes Command of the Provincials. Doctor Warren on the Alert. The Briflsh retreat to Boston. The Slaugh 
 ter on the Route. The British arrive at Charlestown. The Panic in the Town. Arrival at Boston. The Killed and 
 Wounded. The General Excitement. Meeting of the Provincial Council. Their llemons^pnce. General Artemas 
 Ward appointed Commander-in-Chief. The Whole Country aroused. Israel Putnam. Benedict Arnold. American 
 Troops called out. Cambridge made Headquarters. A Second Continental Congress. Washington s Reflections 
 on the Lexington Affair. Canada. Ticonderoga and Crown Point. Action of Connecticut. Ethan Allen and the 
 Green-Mountain Boys. Expedition to Ticonderoga. Arnold volunteers. Fall of Ticonderoga. Skeensborough. 
 The Meeting of the Continental Congress. Washington chosen Commander-in-Chief. The Army organized. 
 
 1775, 
 
 GENERAL GAGE, having received 
 Colonel Smith s request for a rein 
 forcement, sent to his relief nine hundred 
 men and two pieces of artillery, under the 
 command of Lord Percy, u a penurious,* 
 undignified young man," as Walpole call 
 ed him. At nine o clock in the morning, 
 this detachment marched out of 
 Boston, the bands " playing, by 
 
 April 19, 
 
 * "When Lord Percy was in Ireland with his regiment, 
 the fifth infantry, he consented, after much consideration, to 
 give a dinner to the officers in garrison at Limerick. The 
 gallant but cautious earl ordered the repast at a tavern, spe 
 cifying that it should be for fifty persons, at eighteen pence 
 oer head. The officers heard of the arrangement, and they 
 ordered the landlord to provide a banquet at a guinea per 
 nead, promising to pay the difference in the event of their 
 entertainer declining to do so. When the banquet was 
 served, there was but one astonished and uncomfortable in 
 dividual at the board, and that was the earl himself, who 
 beheld a feast fit for the gods, and heard himself gratefully 
 complimented upon the excellence of both viands and wines. 
 The astonished earl experienced an easily-understood diffi 
 culty in returning thanks when his health was drunk with 
 an enthusiasm that bewildered him ; and, on retiring, early 
 sought out the landlord, in order to have the solution of an 
 enigma that sorely puzzled him. Boniface told the un 
 adorned and unwelcome truth ; and the inexperienced young 
 carl acknowledged his mistake, and discharged the bill with 
 a sigh on himself and a check on his banker." DORAN, 
 " Table-Traits, and Something on Them " 
 
 way of contempt, Yankee Doodle] a song 
 composed in derision of the New-England- 
 ers, scornfully called Yankees." A " smart" 
 boy, observing it as the troops passed 
 through Roxbury, made himself extreme 
 ly merry with the circumstance, jumping 
 and laughing so as to attract the notice 
 
 O o 
 
 of his lordship, who, it is said, asked him 
 at what he was laughing so heartily ; and 
 was answered, " To think how you will 
 dance, by-and-by, to Chevy Chase /" It is 
 added that the repartee stuck by his lord 
 ship the whole day.* 
 
 Percy suffered but little annoyance on 
 his march to the relief of Smith and his 
 men. At Charlestown he found the bridge 
 taken up, but, as the planks were discov 
 ered near by, they were readily replaced ; 
 and he marched on without difficulty un- 
 
 * Gordon s History of the American Revolution. Th 
 allusion to Chevy Chase will be understood by the reader, 
 if he calls to mind that a Lord Percy is the hero of that old 
 ballad. The Lord Percy spoken of in the text is the one 
 afterward duke of Northumberland, of whom Halleck writes : 
 " who, when a younger son, 
 
 Fought for K mg George at Lexington, 
 A major of dragoons." 
 
148 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 til he reached Lexington, where he found 
 the retreating force " so much exhausted 
 with fatigue, that they were obliged to 
 lie down for rest on the ground, their 
 tongues hanging out of their mouths, 
 like those of dogs after a chase." Percy, 
 bringing his fieldpieces to bear from a 
 commanding position upon the provin 
 cials (who were hanging upon his troops, 
 prepared to gall them with their shots 
 whenever they took up their march), 
 there was a brief cessation of hostility. 
 The friends of the patriot cause had, 
 in the meantime, been busy in Boston. 
 General Heath, who had been authorized 
 by the provincial Congress to take com 
 mand of the minute-men whenever called 
 out, now hurried to the scene of action ; 
 having in his route given orders suita 
 ble to the emergency, and directed the 
 Charlestown people to form a barricade 
 of the planks of their bridge, and there 
 post themselves to oppose the British as 
 they returned to Boston. When he ar 
 rived at Lexington, Heath took com 
 mand of the provincials, and strove to 
 form them in military order. Warren, 
 too, the patriotic physician of Boston, 
 was active in cheering and advising his 
 countrymen, as he rode forward to meet 
 the British. "Keep up a brave heart," 
 he said to one. " They have begun it 
 that either party could do ; and we 11 
 end it that only one can do." To an 
 other, who exclaimed, " Well, they are 
 gone out," he answered, "Yes, and we ll 
 be up with them before night!" "His 
 soul," as it was justly said, " beat to arms 
 as soon as he learned the intention of 
 the British troops." 
 
 Percy did not halt long, as he found 
 the provincials gathering so fast, and so 
 bent upon resisting him to their utmost. 
 He had now over eighteen hundred well- 
 disciplined men under arms ; but he had 
 evidently determined upon no act of hos 
 tility, beyond what might be necessary 
 to protect his retreat to Boston. So, af 
 ter proper refreshment of his men, and 
 placing the harassed force of Colonel 
 Smith as far as possible under the cover 
 of his fresher troops, he began his retreat. 
 The British, however, no sooner began to 
 move, than the Americans renewed their 
 harassing attacks. The soldiers, in spite 
 of the efforts at restraint of Lord Percy, 
 were excited to such a pitch of uncon 
 trollable rage, that they began to retal 
 iate by acts of devastation and cruelty. 
 They rushed into the houses and mur 
 dered the sick, the helpless, and even 
 mothers with their babes at the breast! 
 They drove the inhabitants away at the 
 point of the bayonet, and burned their 
 dwellings. But the provincials, nothing 
 daunted, kept up their harassing fire, and 
 did not hesitate to come out in throngs 
 upon the road and skirmish with the reg 
 ulars. Fierce slaughter raged on both 
 sides. The British fell fast, and Lord 
 Percy himself nearly lost his life from a 
 musketrball which shot off a button from 
 his coat. The provincials, too, suffered 
 greatly, but continued to hang on the 
 rear of the British troops, and harass 
 them with their sharp-shooting. Harris 
 and Warren were constantly cheering on 
 the men, and bravely taking the lead in 
 every struggle. Warren barely escaped 
 with his life, a muskei>shot having struck 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BACK TO BOSTON. 
 
 149 
 
 his hair, and driven out the pin by which 
 it was gathered behind his ears. 
 
 When the British troops were about 
 entering Charlestown, and had reached 
 the base of Prospect hill, the attack of 
 the provincials became terribly severe ; 
 but Percy, after playing his fieldpieces 
 with effect, hurried on his men to a run, 
 until they reached Charlestown neck, and 
 were protected by the guns of the men- 
 of-war. Charlestown had been the whole 
 day in a state of great excitement. The 
 schools had been dismissed ; the men had 
 marched to the relief of their fellow-pa 
 triots ; the shops had been closed ; and 
 the old and feeble, the women and chil 
 dren, huddled together in anxious groups 
 in the houses, or gathered in knots about 
 the streets, discussed with alarm the ter 
 rible events of the day. Now that the 
 enemy were returning, a general panic 
 ensued, and the people scattered in all 
 directions, crying out, " The British are 
 coming, with fire and slaughter !" Lord 
 Percy had his troops under sufficient con 
 trol during his march through Charles- 
 town to keep them from doing much mis 
 chief, and the inhabitants were accord 
 ingly more frightened than hurt. None 
 were harmed, and all the troops insisted 
 upon was " something to drink." The 
 main body of the British occupied Bun 
 ker s hill, and the rest entered Boston, 
 perfectly worn down with fatigue. The 
 officers immediately thronged the tavern 
 in the square, and called upon "mine 
 host" for supper and wine ; while the men 
 were ordered to their quarters, to sleep 
 off the effects of their hard day s work. 
 General Gage strengthened the guards 
 
 throughout the city, and, posting a party 
 at the neck, ordered them to allow no 
 one to leave Boston that night. 
 
 The whole loss of the Americans was 
 computed at forty-nine killed, thirty-nine 
 wounded, and five missing, with a de 
 struction of property amounting to about 
 three thousand pounds. The British had 
 seventy-three killed, one hundred and 
 seventy-four wounded, and twenty-seven 
 missing. Among these were no less than 
 eighteen officers. In the record of bat 
 tles, the affairs of Concord and Lexing 
 ton rank merely as skirmishes. In the 
 history of America, they are the great 
 events which began the War of the Rev 
 olution. Gage and his chief officers, now 
 aware of the evil consequences of the 
 rash attack which had been made upon 
 the provincials, affected great indignation 
 at the conduct of Pitcairn, in his charge 
 upon the militia at Lexington. Startled 
 as they were, they might well be solicit 
 ous about incurring the responsiblity of 
 an act which had inflamed the indigna 
 tion of the whole country, and which, in 
 the foresight of the wise, was the com 
 mencement of a revolution which was 
 destined to tear from the crown of Great 
 Britain the American jewel, without 
 which, Lord Chatham declared, it would 
 not be worth the wearing. 
 
 The inhabitants were now everywhere 
 in arms ; and they collected in such num 
 bers about Boston, that they seemed ef 
 fectually to invest the city, and created 
 great anxiety on the part of General 
 Gage and his British troops. The pro 
 vincial Congress met almost im 
 
 mediately after these occurren- 
 
 April 22, 
 
150 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [>AUT II 
 
 ces at Lexington and Concord, and drew 
 up a " narrative of the massacre," which, 
 with an address, they sent to the British 
 throne. Yet disposed to be loyal, if the 
 king could only be just, they declared 
 that " these marks of ministerial ven 
 geance" had not yet detached them from 
 their royal sovereign, whom they were 
 still ready to defend in " person, family, 
 crown, and dignity." They were, how 
 ever, resolutely determined, as they said, 
 not to submit tamely to tyranny; but, 
 with God on their side, to die or be free. 
 The Congress, moreover, prepared for the 
 worst, by everywhere organizing the mi 
 litia, and by the appointment of General 
 Artemas Ward as commander-in-chief. 
 
 The feeling in Massachusetts was soon 
 communicated to all the colonies. Every 
 colonist felt that the cause of the Boston 
 people was his own ; and crowds flocked 
 in, to unite with those who had already 
 struck a blow on the memorable day of 
 Lexington and Concord. They came 
 from every part of New England. Old 
 Israel Putnam, now threescore years of 
 age, who had seen service in the French 
 war, had retired to his Connecticut farm, 
 and, like another Cincinnatus, was plough 
 ing his field, when one of his sons ran up 
 to him with the last news from Boston. 
 The veteran dropped the handle of the 
 plough, unharnessed his horses, and, sad 
 dling one of them, galloped away to join 
 the Massachusetts patriots. Stark, too, of 
 New Hampshire, an old campaigner, came 
 in, offering his services. The people now 
 looked up to these veterans for counsel, 
 and readily submitted to the guidance of 
 the one, who from a private had reached 
 
 the militia rank of general ; and of the 
 other, who was known as colonel in the 
 same service. 
 
 Another and more remarkable man 
 still, whose life supplies the darkest page 
 in American annals, was then among the 
 first to devote himself to the patriotic 
 cause. This was Benedict Arnold, of New 
 Haven, a Yankee skipper and small tra 
 der. He had been chosen the captain of 
 a volunteer company ; and no sooner did 
 the Lexington news reach him, than he 
 called his men together, and asked them 
 whether they would march off with him. 
 the next morning, for the neighborhood 
 of Boston, distant about one hundred and 
 fifty miles. They agreed to a man, and 
 mustered at the time appointed, in front 
 of the tavern where the Connecticut com 
 mittee of safety were in session. Arnold 
 applied to these gentlemen for a supply 
 of powder and ball. They demurred, 011 
 the ground that he was not duly author 
 ized. He then proposed to his soldiers 
 to help themselves, by force, if necessary, 
 to which they agreed. Arnold next sent 
 word to the committee, of his resolution. 
 Colonel Wooster now came out, and tried 
 to persuade him to wait until he had re 
 ceived proper orders. The impetuous 
 Arnold answered, " None but Almighty 
 God shall prevent my marching!" He 
 got his ammunition, and marched to Bos 
 ton. 
 
 The provincial Congress, still in session, 
 resolved that thirty thousand men be im 
 mediately raised, and that all New Eng 
 land be urged to add their quota of men 
 to the Massachusetts troops. Cambridge, 
 near Boston, was made the headquarters ; 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 RESPONSE OF THE PROVINCES. 
 
 151 
 
 and the college there (the venerable Har 
 vard) was emptied of its students, that 
 room might be made for the provincial 
 militia. 
 
 The appeal of Massachusetts to the oth 
 er New-England provinces was respond 
 ed to with spirit. Connecticut voted six 
 thousand men, two thousand of whom 
 were for its own defence, and the rest to 
 send in aid to the neighboring colony, 
 under the command of the veteran Put 
 nam (already on the ground), and Spen 
 cer and AVooster. New Hampshire did 
 not, as yet, organize an army, but ex 
 pressed an ardent sympathy with the 
 cause, and recommended supplies to be 
 sent to the gallant Stark and his volun 
 teers. Rhode Island was already repre 
 sented by Nathaniel Greene, a blacksmith 
 by trade and a Quaker in religion now, 
 however, " read out of meeting," for his 
 warlike propensities. This little prov 
 ince, notwithstanding, voted an army of 
 observation, numbering fifteen hundred 
 men, and invested the bellicose young 
 " friend" with the chief command. Penn 
 sylvania held public meetings, appointed 
 a " committee of safety," with Benjamin 
 Franklin as its chairman, enrolled volun 
 teer companies, and expressed the most 
 patriotic resolutions. The people of New 
 York, struggling against the adverse in 
 fluence of a tory assembly, met together 
 in spite of strong opposition, and united 
 in an " association for the defence of co 
 lonial rights," and recommended the ear 
 ly meeting of a provincial Congress, " to 
 deliberate on and direct such measures 
 as may be expedient for our common 
 safety." At the South, too, each prov 
 
 ince Delaware, Virginia, the Carol inas,* 
 and all was firm for the patriotic cause, 
 and prepared to act in its defence. 
 
 To give unanimity to the action of the 
 colonists, a second continental Congress 
 was to be held, at Philadelphia. Wash 
 ington was at Mount Vernon, preparing 
 to set out as a delegate to this assembly, 
 which was to meet in May, when he re 
 ceived news of the affair at Lexington. 
 
 "Washington s feelings," says Irving, 
 " were of a mingled nature. They may 
 be gathered from a letter to his friend 
 and neighbor, George William Fairfax, 
 then in England, in which he lays the 
 blame of this deplorable affair on the 
 ministry and their military agents ; and 
 concludes with the following words, in 
 which the yearnings of the patriot give 
 affecting solemnity to the implied resolve 
 of the soldier : Unhappy it is to reflect 
 that a brother s sword has been sheathed 
 in a brother s breast ; and that the once- 
 happy and peaceful plains of America are 
 to be either drenched with blood or in 
 habited by slaves. Sad alternative ! But 
 can a virtuous man hesitate in his choice? " 
 The impression produced in England may 
 be learned from this record of Walpole 
 in his journal, after the victories of Con 
 cord and Lexington were announced : 
 "Stocks immediately fell. The provin 
 cials had behaved with the greatest con 
 duct, coolness, and resolution. One cir 
 cumstance spoke a thorough determina 
 tion of resistance. The provincials had 
 sent over affidavits of all that had passed, 
 and a colonel of the militia had sworn in 
 
 * In North Carolina they even precipitated matters, by a 
 " Declaration of Independence." 
 
152 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11 
 
 an affidavit that he had given his men 
 order to fire on the king s troops if the 
 latter attacked them. It was firmness, 
 indeed, to swear to having been the first 
 to begin what the Parliament had named 
 rebellion ; thus was the civil war begun, 
 and a victory gained, the first fruits of 
 which were on the side of the Americans, 
 whom Lord Sandwich had had the folly 
 and rashness to proclaim cowards." Let 
 us, however, pass from what was said to 
 what was done by the patriots ; for the 
 purpose of our history is to tell how they 
 fought, and not what they thought. 
 
 When the struggle between the colo 
 nies and the mother-country became im 
 minent, the attention of some thoughtful 
 men in New England was directed to the 
 probable position of Canada in the com 
 ing contest. Few doubted but that it 
 would remain loyal under any circum 
 stances ; and, with such a disposition, it 
 wa>s quite evident that Canadian territo 
 ry would offer to the British a firm hold 
 ing-ground, upon which they might es 
 tablish a basis of military operations, and 
 through which they could do continued 
 mischief to all the colonies, and particu 
 larly to New England and New York. 
 The main route from the Canadas to the 
 provinces south was over Lake Cham- 
 plain ; and upon this lake were the two 
 forts of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, 
 held each by a British garrison. These, 
 accordingly, commanded the way. To 
 acquire them, therefore, was thought of 
 great importance to the patriot cause by 
 the wise in counsel. The bold in action 
 were not wanting to offer to do what was 
 deemed advisable to be done. The neces 
 
 sity of securing Ticonderoga and Crown 
 Point had been urged by many through 
 out New England, but Connecticut was 
 foremost in proposing a plan of action, 
 and sending out an expedition. 
 
 Several members of the assembly of 
 Connecticut got up the enterprise, but 
 kept it a secret, as it might not have 
 been safe to intrust a knowledge to those 
 who, however patriotically disposed, had 
 not yet declared themselves boldly for 
 war. Money was obtained, and a few 
 volunteers enlisted in Connecticut and 
 Massachusetts. The projectors of the un 
 dertaking, however, looked for the main 
 staple of their force to the "Green-mount 
 ain boys" of the "New-Hampshire grants." 
 This territory was then a wild region : it 
 is now the state of Vermont. In those 
 early days it was settled by a few hardy 
 men, who joined to the strong attach 
 ment of the farmer to his land, the wild 
 and fierce characteristics of the forest- 
 borderer. The territory in their posses 
 sion was derived from New Hampshire. 
 New York, however, claimed the title, 
 which was confirmed, on appeal, by royal 
 authority. The latter province then at 
 tempted to eject the settlers of the " New- 
 Hampshire grants," but found itself re 
 sisted by a band of resolute fellows who 
 called themselves " The Green-mountain 
 boys." The legislature of New York now 
 outlawed these bold resistants,and offered 
 a reward for their apprehension. 
 
 Ethan Allen, born in Connecticut, but 
 living from childhood among the Green 
 mountains, was the chosen leader of these 
 " New-Hampshire grant" outlaws. He ad 
 vised arming and defiance : his followers 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ETHAN ALLEN. 
 
 153 
 
 adopted his counsel, and pledged them 
 selves to resist New York to the death. 
 Allen was bold almost to fierceness, a 
 natural contemner of authority, yet one 
 Avho, with all his reputed disregard of 
 traditional religious opinion, was of the 
 strictest integrity. "An anecdote is re 
 lated of him," says Lossing, " which illus 
 trates the purity of his principles. He 
 owed a citizen of Boston sixty pounds, 
 for which he gave his promissory note. 
 It was sent to Vermont for collection. 
 It was inconvenient for Allen to pay, 
 and the note was put in suit. Allen em 
 ployed a lawyer to attend the court, and 
 have the judgment postponed until he 
 could raise the money. The lawyer de 
 termined to deny the genuineness of the 
 signature, as the readiest method of post 
 poning the matter, for in that case a wit 
 ness at Boston would have to be sent for. 
 When the case was called, it happened 
 that Allen was in a remote part of the 
 courthouse, and to his utter astonishment 
 heard his lawyer gravely deny the sig 
 nature of the note. With long and fierce 
 strides he rushed through the crowd, and, 
 confronting the amazed lirnb of the law, 
 rebuked him in a voice of thunder : Mr. 
 , I did not hire you to come here 
 and lie ! That is a true note I signed 
 it I ll swear to it and I ll pay it! I 
 want no shuffling ; I want time. What 
 I employed you for was to get this busi 
 ness put over to the next court ; not to 
 come here and lie and juggle about it ! 
 The result was, the amicable postpone 
 ment of the claim, arranged between the 
 two lawyers." 
 
 The style of the man as a speaker 
 20 
 
 for he had some pretensions to a rude 
 eloquence is described as that of "a 
 singular compound of local barbarisms, 
 scriptural phrases, and oriental wildness 
 and, though unclassic and sometimes un- 
 grammatical, highly animated and forci 
 ble." And Washington said there was 
 " an original something in him which 
 commanded admiration." 
 
 The small force collected together in 
 Connecticut and Massachusetts now rap 
 idly pushed on to join the " Green-mount- 
 ain boys," who readily flocked to the call 
 of their old leader, Ethan Allen. Castle- 
 ton was the rendezvous, and here soon 
 the whole force was gathered, amounting 
 to two hundred and seventy, all of whom, 
 with the exception of forty, were " Green- 
 mountain boys." Now a council-of-war 
 was held. On the road, the small Con 
 necticut detachment had met with one 
 who was apparently a countryman, from 
 whom they had gathered such an account 
 of the formidable position of things in Ti- 
 conderoga, that their hearts almost failed 
 them. This incident was laid before the 
 council, and was thus reported by the 
 witnesses : While they were on their way, 
 they fell in with one who appeared to be 
 an undesigning, honest traveller. They 
 addressed him. " From whence carne 
 you ?" " From Ty" (so Ticonderoga was 
 called, for shortness) ; " left it yesterday," 
 at such an hour. " Has the garrison re 
 ceived any reinforcements?" "Yes; I 
 saw them : there were a number of artil 
 lerymen and other soldiers." " What are 
 they doing ? Are they making fascines ? 
 " Fascines ? I do n t know what you call 
 fascines. They are tying up sticks and 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 brush in bundles, and putting them where 
 the walls are down." 
 
 This account so alarmed many of the 
 party, that there was some thought of re 
 turning ; and it was only determined by 
 a majority of one, that they should push 
 on. And well they did; for the "coun 
 tryman" was a shrewd fellow, affecting 
 not to know anything, and yet knowing 
 enough to deceive, by giving such infor 
 mation as he thought would save the 
 British forts, and which information was 
 very far from the truth. Ethan Allen 
 was no sooner appointed to command the 
 whole expedition, by the council of offi 
 cers at Castleton, than there came one, 
 in great haste, to dispute the honor with 
 him. This was Benedict Arnold. 
 
 Arnold, fresh from Connecticut, where 
 the expedition against Ticonderoga and 
 Crown Point was the subject of talk 
 among the patriots, no sooner arrived at 
 Boston and not finding much there at 
 that moment for the occupation of his busy 
 activity than he laid before the Massa 
 chusetts committee of safety a proposi 
 tion for an attack upon the British forts. 
 He was readily listened to w r hen he spoke 
 of the dismantled condition of Ticonder 
 oga, its great stock of cannon and milita 
 ry stores, and of how easily it might be 
 taken, defended as it was by only two- 
 score men. The committee approved of 
 his proposition, and appointed him colo 
 nel, with the authority to raise four hun 
 dred men. Arnold, however, knowing 
 that Allen was before him, did not wait 
 for recruits, but pushed on and arrived 
 at Ca-stleton with a single servant. Here 
 he showed his Massachusetts commission, 
 
 and claimed the supreme command ; but, 
 finding that the men, who were mostly 
 u Green-mountain boys," insisted upon be 
 ing led by their old commander, Allen, 
 he was fain to content himself with the 
 position of second. 
 
 One Captain Noah Phelps now came 
 in with certain intelligence in regard to 
 Ticonderoga, This bold fellow had dis 
 guised himself as a rustic laborer, and had 
 gone into the fort, requesting to be shaved 
 by the barber of the garrison. Suspect 
 ing nothing, he w r as readily admitted ; 
 and, as he was searching for the man of 
 the razor, he went all about the fort, pry 
 ing into every nook and corner, and ask 
 ing, with the affected greenness of a coun 
 tryman, all sorts of questions. After 
 spending the better part of the day thus, 
 and getting rid of his beard at the hands 
 of the barber, he left, and returned to his 
 fellow-patriots, with the fullest informa 
 tion of what he had seen and heard. It 
 was determined to make the attack at 
 once, and the adventurous Noah Phelps 
 undertook to guide the party to the fort. 
 
 On the 9th of May, Allen began 
 his march, and reached Lake Cham- 
 plain, at a point opposite to Ticonderoga, 
 in the middle of the night. There were 
 but few boats to be had, but Allen was 
 too impatient to wait until more could 
 be obtained ; so he and Arnold, with 
 eighty-three men, crossed at once. When 
 on the other side, it was suggested that 
 they should await the arrival of the rest 
 of the force ; but Allen would not listen 
 to it for a moment, and declared that he 
 was for striking a blow on the instant, 
 " It is a desperate attempt, I know," said 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 FALL OF TICONDEROGA. 
 
 155 
 
 he, " and I ask no man to go against his 
 will. I will take the lead, and be the 
 first to advance. You that are willing 
 to follow, poise your firelocks !" Every 
 firelock was "poised." 
 
 The fort stood upon a height above 
 them, and they now rapidly climbed the 
 hill, with Phelps and a farmer s lad they 
 had picked up, guiding the way. On 
 reaching the top, a sentry on the outer 
 wall snapped his fusee at Allen, and then 
 retreated within. A dispute now took 
 place between Arnold and Allen. The 
 former " became assuming, and swore he 
 would go in first; the other swore he 
 should not." At last it was agreed that 
 they should go in together ; so Allen and 
 Arnold entered the port leading to the 
 fort side by side. It was in the early 
 gray of the morning, as they si 
 lently marched in, followed by 
 their handful of men. A soldier on guard 
 struck at one of the officers, but was soon 
 brought to his knees by a blow from Al 
 len s sword upon the head, and forced to 
 beg for quarter. 
 
 As the provincials, with a loud shout, 
 rushed into the parade within the walls, 
 the garrison came flying out, and were 
 easily made prisoners. Allen now made 
 his way (with the aid of the farmer s lad, 
 who knew every turn in and out of the 
 fortress) to the quarters of Captain Dela- 
 place, the commander, who was still in 
 bed. Allen gave a thundering rap at the 
 door with the hilt- of his sword, which at 
 once aroused Delaplace, who came out 
 half-dressed, " with the frightened face of 
 his pretty wife peering over his shoulder," 
 and demanded, with an air and tone of 
 
 May 10, 
 
 affected firmness, what the disturbance 
 meant. Allen insisted upon his instant 
 surrender. " By what authority ?" asked 
 Delaplace. " In the name of the Grea 
 Jehovah and the continental Congress !" 
 was the memorable answer, rounded off 
 with the usual oath of the leader of the 
 wild " mountain-boys." It is true, at that 
 moment there was no continental Con 
 gress ; and it might be very questionable 
 whether a profane character like Allen 
 could justly claim divine authority : but 
 there was the provincial force in posses 
 sion, to which their leader had only to 
 point, which settled the matter, and put 
 an end at once to all questions. Dela 
 place had nothing else left him but to 
 surrender ; and accordingly Ticonderoga 
 was immediately given up, with all its 
 effects, including the captain with his for 
 ty men, and a large stock of artillery and 
 military stores. 
 
 Arnold, \vith his usual uneasy longing 
 for power, insisted impetuously upon the 
 command of Ticonderoga being given to 
 him ; but was forced to yield to Allen, 
 who had the advantage of being second 
 ed by the predominating majority of his 
 " Green-mountain boys," with whom he 
 was so great a favorite. Arnold, how 
 ever, protested, and sent a letter of com 
 plaint to the Massachusetts committee. 
 The rest of the force now coming up from 
 the lake, they were detached to take pos 
 session of Crown Point, in which they 
 succeeded without firing a gun. It sur 
 rendered on the 12th of May, being al 
 most without defence, as the garrison 
 numbered only a dozen men, under the 
 command of a sergeant. Its hundred 
 
156 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [FART II. 
 
 cannon and various stores were, however, 
 a timely addition to the meager supplies 
 of the provincials. 
 
 Arnold s restlessness now found vent 
 in an enterprise that was concocted in 
 council at Ticonderoga. A small detach 
 ment, composed of some thirty men, had 
 been sent to Skenesborough, to secure 
 the son of Major Skene, who was an ar 
 dent royalist, and a man of large wealth 
 and influence, by which he was enabled 
 greatly to serve the cause to which he 
 was devoted. They had succeeded in 
 taking young Skene by surprise, while 
 out shooting. Otherwise, they might 
 have had tough work in effecting their 
 object; for Skene was quite a lord in his 
 way, with his numerous tenants and ne 
 groes, who were ready to do his bidding 
 at all hazards, and to defend him and 
 his family to the death. The provincials 
 seized the son known, as well as his fa 
 ther, as a Major Skene his strong stone- 
 house and fortress, a number of his de 
 pendants and slaves, and his boats, among 
 which there was a good-sized schooner. 
 They likewise made another capture, of 
 which they had but little expectation. It 
 was that of the elder Skene s wife, who 
 had not accompanied her husband, as 
 might naturally have been expected, to 
 England, where he had gone. On ran 
 sacking the great stone-house, they found 
 the mistress of the mansion in the cellar. 
 She had been there, it seems, many years. 
 The good lady, however, was dead, and 
 had been so for a long time ; but her hus 
 band, having a strong attachment to an 
 annuity which was to be continued to 
 her " while she remained above-ground," 
 
 had taken care to secure the object of his 
 affection, by keeping his wife s body out 
 of the grave. The provincials reveren 
 tially removed the remains, and buried 
 them behind the great stone-house. 
 
 It was now determined that Arnold 
 should lead the men who had been so 
 successful at Skenesborough, and, em 
 barking them on the boats which they 
 had captured, sail with them down Lake 
 Champlain, and take St. Johns, a Cana 
 dian post on the river Sorel. Arnold him 
 self, who had been a sailor in early days, 
 took command of the schooner, and with 
 a fair wind succeeded in outsailing the 
 batteaux, which were left so far behind, 
 that he had landed and captured the place 
 with his small advance-party before the 
 rest could come up. Arnold, now learn 
 ing that the troops from Canada were 
 coining, destroyed what he could not car 
 ry away, and, taking with him an armed 
 vessel and some military stores, set sail 
 up the lake again. He had not got far, 
 when he was met by Ethan Allen and 
 his men, in the slow-moving batteaux. 
 Arnold exultingly saluted his rival com 
 mander with a broadside of cannon, which 
 Allen returned with a volley of musketry 
 from his militia. An interview on board 
 Arnold s royal "man-of-war" of seventy 
 tons folio wed, when Allen was informed of 
 the particulars of the late success. The 
 latter then determined to continue his 
 course for St. Johns, and make an at 
 tempt to hold it. He was, however, fore 
 stalled by a superior British force, and 
 had to turn back to Ticonderoga. :i: 
 
 * This account is derived from Irving, who gives rathe"- 
 a different version from other writers. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] WASHINGTON MADE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 
 
 157 
 
 1775. 
 
 The second continental Congress 
 assembled in Philadelphia on the 
 10th of May. Almost the first subject 
 which came before them was, the state of 
 things in Massachusetts. In the attitude 
 of the British government toward that 
 province, they saw a subversion of its 
 charter, and advised the organization of 
 a government which might restore, as far 
 as possible, the former laws of Massachu 
 setts. The Congress, however, so far as 
 sumed a conciliatory tone, as to resolve 
 upon another petition to the British 
 throne. The New-Englanders,with whom 
 the spirit of independence was rife, op 
 posed all further efforts at conciliation ; 
 and John Adams was among the foremost 
 to denounce them as "imbecile." The 
 petition to the king was, however, car 
 ried. Still, the Congress continued to 
 act as if the colonies were already inde 
 pendent, and proceeded to deliberate up 
 on measures of offence and defence as if 
 they constituted a separate nation. 
 
 That the people of New England were 
 in arms to resist the British government, 
 was a fact that could not be concealed ; 
 and that their interest was the common 
 interest of the whole country, every one 
 felt, and determined to sustain it. The 
 question now came up, as to who should 
 be commander-in-chief to lead the forces 
 which were fast gathering to the rescue 
 of their country. There was no little jeal 
 ousy, even at this early period, between 
 the North and the South. The Massa 
 chusetts men were greatly in favor of 
 Hancock, of Boston, and he himself un 
 doubtedly aspired to the high position. 
 Colonel Washington was the choice of the 
 
 South. That great man, however, mod 
 estly thought not of himself, but of his 
 country only. John Adams now, with 
 the consent of most of the New-England- 
 ers, made a concession to the southern 
 provinces, by proposing Mr. George Wash 
 ington, " a gentleman whose skill and ex 
 perience as an officer, whose independent 
 fortune, great talents, and excellent uni 
 versal character, would command the ap 
 probation of all America, and unite the 
 cordial exertions of all the colonies bet 
 ter than any other person in the Union." 
 As soon as Adams had uttered these 
 words, " Mr. Washington, who happened 
 to sit near the door.... with his usual mod 
 esty, darted into the library-room." 
 
 There were many New-Englanders op 
 posed to this nomination, and one who 
 was particularly chagrined. It was Han 
 cock, who was sitting at that time as 
 president of the Congress, in the absence 
 of Peyton Randolph, who had returned 
 to Virginia, to preside at the assembly of 
 his own province. Adams says : " While 
 I was speaking on the state of the colo 
 nies, the army at Cambridge, and the en 
 emy, Hancock heard me with pleasure ; 
 but when," he adds, " I came to describe 
 Washington for the commander, I never 
 remarked a more sudden and striking 
 change of countenance. Mortification 
 and resentment were expressed as forci 
 bly as his face could exhibit them." 
 
 The election was delayed for a few 
 days, in consequence of the opposition ; 
 when, finally, GEORGE WASHINGTON was 
 unanimously chosen command 
 er-in-chief of the provincial for 
 ces. On his election beino; announced 
 
 Juiie 15, 
 
158 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Washington arose and modestly said, af 
 ter thanking the Congress for the honor 
 conferred upon him: "Lest some un 
 lucky event should happen unfavorable 
 to my reputation, I beg it may be remem 
 bered, by every gentleman in the room, 
 that I this day declare, with the utmost 
 sincerity, I do not think myself equal to 
 the command I am honored with. As to 
 pay, I beg leave to assure the Congress 
 that, as no pecuniary consideration could 
 have tempted me to accept this arduous 
 employment, at the expense of my do 
 mestic ease and happiness, I do not wish 
 to make any profit of it. I will keep 
 an exact account of my expenses. These 
 I doubt not they will discharge, and that 
 is all I desire." 
 
 In the congressional resolution to ap 
 point a commander-in-chief, a provision 
 was made for his support to the amount 
 of five hundred dollars a month. The 
 army which had been gathering, princi 
 pally from the various parts of New Eng 
 
 land, was now formally adopted by the 
 continental Congress ; and a commander- 
 in-chief having been appointed, they pro 
 ceeded to organize the whole military 
 staff. Artemas AYard was chosen second 
 in command, Charles Lee the third, Phil 
 ip Schuyler the fourth, and Israel Putnam 
 the fifth, all with the rank of major-gen 
 eral. Seth Pomeroy, Richard Montgom 
 ery, David Wooster, William Heath, Jo 
 seph Spencer, John Thomas, John Sulli 
 van, and Nathaniel Greene, were the eight 
 appointed as brigadier-generals. Horatio 
 Gates had the same rank, with the espe 
 cial function of adjutant-general. There 
 was a good deal of opposition to the ap 
 pointment of Lee and Gates, but Wash 
 ington s earnest advocacy secured their 
 elections. They were both Englishmen, 
 and were looked upon with suspicion as 
 military adventurers, more concerned 
 about their own private interests than 
 the public good of a country to which 
 they were comparatively strangers. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Provincial Camp before Boston. Men and Officers. The Country round. Charlestown and Boston : their Aspect.- 
 The British reinforced. Burgoyne, Clinton, and Howe. Gage s Proclamation. Indignation of the People. Breed s 
 and Bunker s Hills. Taken Possession of by the Provincials. The Fortifications. Colonel Prescott. His Martial 
 Air. Character. The Labors and Anxieties of the Night on Bunker s Hill. The Morning. The Surprise of the 
 British. The Bombardment of the Works by the British Ships. Colonel Prescott encourages his Men. The British 
 Troops prepare to attack. Activity of Putnam. Lord Howe. His Character. The Preparations for the Struggle. 
 The Excitement of the People. The Stir in the Provincial Camp. Putnam on the Move. 
 
 1775, 
 
 SIXTEEN thousand New-England 
 patriots were now in arms before 
 Boston. Of these, about three fourths 
 were from Massachusetts ; and the rest 
 from Connecticut, New Hampshire, and 
 
 Rhode Island. One common sentiment 
 of patriotism united them all in a firm 
 resolve to defend their country against 
 the oppressor. This was their strength, 
 which was sure to frive them the ultimate 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 WHO WERE THE PROVINCIALS? 
 
 159 
 
 victory over their enemies. They had 
 their weaknesses, however; and these 
 greatly diminished their efficiency as an 
 army gathered to resist the disciplined 
 troops of Great Britain. With the ex 
 ception of a few veterans, who had fought 
 in the British ranks at Louisburg and 
 Quebec, most of the men were fresh from 
 the shop and the field. All varieties of 
 trades and occupations had their repre 
 sentatives in the American ranks. There 
 was even a divine, the Reverend John 
 Martin,* of Rhode Island, who, having 
 delivered a stirring sermon on the text 
 " Be not ye afraid of them : remember 
 the Lord which is great and terrible, and 
 fight for your brethren, your sons, and 
 your daughters, your wives, and your 
 houses" (Neh. iv. 14), shouldered his mus 
 ket, and took his position as a private in 
 the line. Most of the Americans, at best, 
 had had but a few days militia-training, 
 and knew nothing of war but its "first 
 steps." They could form ranks, face to 
 the right and left, and march, keeping an 
 irregular step to the village drum and 
 fife, to the undisguised ridicule of the 
 critical looker-on. 
 
 There was hardly a man, however, in 
 those early days, who could not steadily 
 poise his gun and bring down his game 
 with the sure aim of a " good shot," In 
 appearance, they had none of the look 
 of a soldier. In dress they pretended to 
 no uniformity, and civilized broadcloth 
 coats, homespun jackets, and coarse shirt 
 sleeves, indiscriminately diversified the 
 patriot ranks. Some shouldered fowling- 
 pieces rusty from neglect, or polished 
 
 * He fought bravely at Bunker s hill. 
 
 smooth with long use ; some carried blun 
 derbusses ; others implements of peaceful 
 husbandry, sharpened into weapons of 
 war ; and but few were provided with the 
 " regulation" musket and its efficient bay 
 onet. 
 
 There was a general scarcity of mili 
 tary stores. The artillery was scanty, the 
 ammunition small in quantity, and there 
 was a great want of tents, clothing, and 
 even roofs, to protect the troops from ex 
 posure to the weather. There was, more 
 over, worse than all, an absence of unity 
 in command. " The Massachusetts men 
 had their own commander, Connecticut 
 and the other provinces theirs ;" and each 
 insisted upon being governed exclusively 
 by his own leader. They were all, how 
 ever, ready to fight for the one cause ; 
 and we shall see how this unanimity of 
 feeling, in the time of trial, smoothed 
 many of the irregularities which came 
 from a want of discipline. 
 
 Among the officers there were men of 
 military experience, and well able, with 
 proper materiel, and under favorable cir 
 cumstances, to organize an army, and to 
 command it. Artemas Ward, the gener 
 al of the Massachusetts men, had fought 
 gallantly under Abercrombie. " Old Put," 
 of Connecticut, had learned a good deal 
 of war while serving as a private in the 
 French campaign. Pomeroy had distin 
 guished himself at Louisburg, and so had 
 Gridley, where he had shown great skill 
 as a military engineer. Prescott and 
 Stark, too, \vere veterans, who had fought 
 bravely while serving in the British ranks 
 against the French. The men looked up 
 with veneration to these leaders, and con- 
 
160 
 
 BATTLES -OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 dently obeyed their orders. Such was 
 the patriot force now loosely scattered 
 over some ten miles of country surround 
 ing Boston, and holding that city in a 
 state of siege. 
 
 The town itself and the suburbs were 
 emptied of their inhabitants. Charles- 
 town was almost entirely deserted, but 
 one or two hundred out of two or three 
 thousand of the population being left. 
 A few only of the citizens returned occa 
 sionally, to plant their gardens, mow their 
 grass, and look after the property which 
 they could not take away with them. 
 The removals of the citizens from Boston 
 into the country were so frequent, that 
 General Gage became alarmed ; and, al 
 though he had pledged himself to give 
 passes to those who desired to leave, he 
 threw all kinds of obstructions in their 
 way to prevent their departure. The 
 passes were made out in such a manner 
 as to prevent those who bore them from 
 carrying anything with them. " All mer 
 chandise was forbid ; after awhile, all pro 
 visions were forbid; and now all merchan 
 dise, provisions, and medicine. Guards 
 were appointed to examine all trunks, 
 boxes, beds, and everything else, to be 
 carried out." The passports, too, were 
 often so worded as to separate men from 
 their wives and children, whom the gov 
 ernor was particularly desirous of retain 
 ing as pledges for the " good conduct" of 
 the patriots. Passes finally were refused 
 altogether. The whole city was given 
 up almost entirely to the British soldiery. 
 Occasional skirmishes occurred between 
 Gage s outposts and the American patri 
 ots, but nothing was effectually done un- 
 
 June. 
 
 til the arrival of reinforcements from 
 Great Britain. 
 
 A large number of British troops now 
 arrived, w r hich, added to Gage s 
 previous force, gave him an ar 
 my of ten thousand Avell-disciplined sol 
 diers, mostly by long service inured to 
 war. Three British generals of renown 
 also arrived Howe, Clinton, and Bur- 
 goyne. As the Cerberus man-of-war, on 
 board of which these officers came, was 
 entering the harbor, she spoke a coaster ; 
 and the skipper, being asked what news 
 there was, replied, " Boston is surround 
 ed by ten thousand country-people." 
 " How many regulars are there in the 
 town ?" asked General Burgoyne ; and, 
 being told there were afaout five thou 
 sand, he cried out, with astonishment: 
 " What ! ten thousand peasants kee p five 
 thousand king s troops shut up ? Well, 
 let us get in, and w r e ll soon find elbow- 
 room !" This expression. " elbow-room," * 
 stuck by Burgoyne during all the time 
 he remained in America. The British 
 generals might well be surprised at the 
 state of things in Boston ; for, when they 
 left England, they had no thought of be 
 ing obliged to draw the sword, and sup 
 posed that their mere appearance would 
 settle all the difficulties. They had ac 
 cordingly prepared themselves with fowl 
 ing-pieces and fishing-rods, with the view 
 
 * " General Burgoyne is designated by Elbow-room in the 
 satires of the times. It is said that he loved a joke, and 
 used to relate that, after his Canada reverses, while a pris 
 oner-of-war, he was received with great courtesy by the Bos 
 ton people, as lie stepped from the Cluirlestown ferry-boat; 
 but he was really annoyed when an old lady, perched on a 
 shed above the crowd, cried out at the top of a shrill voice : 
 Make way, make way the general s coming ! Give him 
 elbow-room ! " FKOTHINGIIAM. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE PROVINCIALS AND THEIR LEADERS. 
 
 161 
 
 of " good sport" in America, during their 
 leisure hours, when off duty. 
 
 Gage, thus reinforced, prepared for ac 
 tive hostilities. As a beginning, he is 
 sued a proclamation which excited the 
 indignation of each patriot, and fixed him 
 more firmly in his resolve to fight for his 
 country. The British fretted greatly at 
 the idea of being shut up within Boston, 
 and now resolved to extend their " elbow- 
 room." It was accordingly proposed, in 
 council, to take possession of Dorchester 
 and the other heights which surrounded 
 the city. 
 
 The provincial leaders heard of these 
 designs of the enemy, and prepared to 
 counteract them. Several plans of oper 
 ation were considered, and, among oth 
 ers, that of occupying Bunker s hill. This 
 hill formed, with that of Breed s, the 
 heights which, overlooking the northern 
 end of Boston,were at the back of Charles- 
 town, and gradually descended to the neck 
 of the peninsula upon which that town is 
 situated. The object was, to hem the Brit 
 ish in effectually on that side, and pre 
 vent all sallies. Many, however, opposed 
 the plan, as too hazardous, deeming the 
 militia not sufficiently expert as yet to 
 be capable of a sustained military op 
 eration. But others contended that the 
 country was growing discontented with 
 the inactivity of the army, and that the 
 soldiers themselves were eager for work. 
 The veteran Putnam and the martial 
 Prescott strongly advocated the posses 
 sion of Bunker s hill, by which means 
 they might draw out the British and have 
 a fair fight with them. These officers 
 professed great faith in the provincials, 
 21 
 
 and Putnam said : " The Americans are 
 not afraid of their heads, though very 
 much afraid of their legs ; if you cover 
 these, they will fight for ever." Genera 
 Ward and Warren (who had been ap 
 pointed a brigadier-general, but had not 
 yet received his commission) opposed the 
 plan. The advice of Putnam and Pres 
 cott, however, carried the day. 
 
 The American forces were much scat 
 tered about the neighborhood of Boston 
 General Thomas was at Koxbury, with 
 four thousand Massachusetts men ; Gen 
 eral Greene was at Jamaica Plains, with 
 the Rhode-Islanders; where also was Gen 
 eral Spencer, with the larger portion of 
 his Connecticut regiment. The main 
 body of the American militia, consisting 
 of some nine thousand men and four ar 
 tillery-companies, was in and about Cam 
 bridge, where General Ward had his head 
 quarters. This part of the forces was dis 
 tributed over a considerable surface of 
 ground, and, extending through most of 
 the villages over Charlestown neck, with 
 its outposts it reached even the base of 
 Bunker s hill. 
 
 With the main body, besides General 
 Ward of Massachusetts, were Putnam of 
 Connecticut, Stark and Reed of New 
 Hampshire, and Gridley the engineer. 
 The officers and men were quartered in 
 the college-buildings, churches, taverns, 
 farmyards, and in tents under the few 
 breastworks which had been hastily erect- 
 ed here and there. It may be well here 
 to give a more specific description of the 
 scene of the struggle which we are about 
 to record. We borrow it from Frothing- 
 ham, who says : 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 " The peninsula of Charlestown is situ 
 ated opposite to the north end of Boston, 
 and is separated from it by Charles river. 
 It is about a mile in length from north 
 to south ; and its greatest breadth, next 
 to Boston, is about half a mile, whence 
 it gradually becomes narrower until it 
 makes an isthmus, called The Neck, con 
 necting it with the mainland. The Mys 
 tic river, about half a mile wide, is on the 
 east side ; and on the west side is Charles 
 river, which here forms a large bay a 
 part of which, by a dam stretching in the 
 direction of Cobble hill, is a millpond. In 
 1775, the Neck, an artificial causeway, 
 was so low as to be frequently overflowed 
 by the tides. The communication with 
 Boston was by a ferry where Charles- 
 river bridge now is, and with Maiden by 
 another called Penny Ferry, where at 
 
 present Maiden bridge is Bunker hill 
 
 begins at the isthmus, and rises gradually 
 for about three hundred yards, forming 
 a round, smooth hill, sloping on two sides 
 toward the water, and connected by a 
 ridge of ground on the south with the 
 heights now known as Breed s hill. The 
 easterly and westerly sides of this height 
 were steep ; on the east side, at its base, 
 were brick-kilns, clay -pits, and much 
 sloughy land ; and on the west side, at 
 the base, was the most settled part of the 
 
 town The easterly portions of these 
 
 hills were used chiefly for hay-ground and 
 pasturing ; the westerly portions con 
 tained fine orchards and gardens." 
 
 Friday night (16th of June) was 
 the time appointed for taking pos 
 session of and fortifying Bunkers hill. Ac 
 cordingly, orders were issued for the as- 
 
 1775, 
 
 sembling of the troops drafted for the 
 purpose ; and, at six o clock in the even 
 ing, they mustered ready for duty. They 
 were some twelve hundred men in all, 
 mostly of the Massachusetts regiments, 
 although Connecticut supplied a fatigue- 
 party of two hundred. Colonel William 
 Prescott, of Pepperell, was appointed to 
 command the Massachusetts detachment; 
 Captain Thomas Knowlton, a favorite of 
 Putnam, and an officer in his regiment, 
 led the Connecticut men. The two field- 
 pieces and forty-nine artillerymen were 
 in charge of Captain Samuel Gridley, a 
 son of Colonel Richard Gridley, who was 
 the chief-engineer of the enterprise, and 
 was to plan the fortifications about to be 
 constructed. 
 
 The men came, as had been ordered, 
 provided with all the intrenching-tools 
 that could be found in the camp, and 
 with packs, blankets, and provisions for 
 twenty-four hours (it was supposed, for 
 that had been the order). They were not 
 informed of the precise object of the en 
 terprise in which they were about to en 
 gage. Their leader, Prescott, had received 
 a written order from General Ward, direct 
 ing him to proceed that evening to Bun 
 ker s hill, build fortifications there, and to 
 defend them until relieved. This order 
 was, however, not to be communicated to 
 his force until they had reached Charles- 
 town neck. 
 
 Colonel Prescott presented himself in 
 full uniform, being equipped with a three- 
 cornered hat, a top-wig, and a single-breastr 
 ed blue coat, with facings, and lapped up 
 at the skirts ;" and, as he paraded his men, 
 his tall figure, thus magnificently arrayed, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE MARCH TO BUNKER S HILL. 
 
 103 
 
 and his military bearing for he was a 
 veteran, having served as a lieutenant at 
 the siege of Louisburg were the admi 
 ration of his raw and miscellaneously- 
 clothed troops. He had, moreover, not 
 only the look und spirit of a good soldier, 
 but was known to be a most determined 
 patriot. A few months before this time, 
 while he commanded a regiment of min 
 ute-men, his brother-in-law, Colonel Wil- 
 lard, was at his house, and endeavored to 
 dissuade him from the active part he was 
 taking against the king s government. 
 Upon his being reminded that if he should 
 be found in arms against his sovereign, his 
 life and estate would be forfeited, Pres- 
 cott replied : " I have made up my mind 
 on that subject. I think it probable I 
 may be found in arms, but I will never be 
 taken alive. The tories shall never have 
 the satisfaction of seeing me hanged." 
 Such was the resolution of the man who 
 was intrusted with the important com 
 mand at Bunker s hill. 
 
 The men having been reviewed on the 
 common by General Ward, President 
 Langdon offered up an earnest prayer, 
 and dismissed the force with a blessing. 
 It was nine o clock w r hen they began 
 their march, which had been purposely 
 delayed until that late hour, in order that 
 it might be under the cover of the dark 
 ness of the night, and that the enemy 
 might thus remain unsuspicious of the 
 movement. Each man was ordered to 
 keep the utmost silence ; and, with two 
 men carrying dark lanterns in front, they 
 thus continued their still and groping 
 march to Charlestown neck, where they 
 came to a halt. Here the veteran Put 
 
 nam rode up, and Major Brooks joined 
 them. A guard now having been de 
 tached to the town of Charlestown, the 
 main body cautiously continued their 
 march along Charlestown neck, to the 
 base of Bunker s hill, where there was 
 another halt, when Prescott communi 
 cated his orders to his chief officers. 
 
 A question now arose as to the hill to 
 be fortified. Bunker s hill was the place 
 specified in the written orders ; but, as 
 Breed s hill was nearer Boston, it was 
 thought by most of the officers to be 
 the most suitable for the purpose intend 
 ed. There seemed considerable difficul 
 ty in coming to a decision ; but, as the 
 night was passing, Gridley declared there 
 was no longer any time to spare, and it 
 was finally determined to proceed to 
 Breed s hill, and there erect the main 
 fortifications although, at the earnest 
 persuasion of General Putnam, it was al 
 so agreed to raise some works on Bun 
 ker s hill as well. The men were now 
 marched farther along to the heights of 
 Breed s hill, and, when near the top, they 
 halted, stacked their guns, threw off their 
 packs, and prepared for the duty of the 
 night. Gridley marked out the lines rap 
 idly, and at twelve o clock had his men 
 fairly at work. 
 
 In the meantime, Prescott was greatly 
 anxious lest the labors of the provincials 
 should be detected by the British. He 
 sent a party below to patrol the shore, 
 and keep a close watcli upon the men-of 
 war lying in Charles river, within gun 
 shot, and upon the battery at Copp s hill, 
 at the north end of Boston, just across 
 the river. Prescott might well be anx- 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 ious, with the enemy so threateningly 
 near, and who, if once aroused, before the 
 American works were completed, would 
 be sure to defeat the whole enterprise. 
 The patriots had so far succeeded, by 
 their exceeding caution, in escaping ev 
 ery danger. They had passed the neck 
 in safety, under the very guns of a man- 
 of-war stationed to guard that approach. 
 There was now more occasion than ever 
 for watchfulness, as their present position 
 was commanded by no less than three 
 armed vessels and several floating batte 
 ries, whose guns pointed directly at the 
 height where the Americans, as they busi 
 ly worked, were totally unprotected. As 
 their thousand spades were diligently 
 plied, the progress was rapid ; and the 
 men continued their labor without inter 
 ruption, listening with eager ears to the 
 bell-watches of the British men-of-war, 
 and the " All s well !" of the sentries on 
 the opposite shores. Prescott himself, as 
 the night was passing, became more and 
 more anxious. He continued to urge on 
 his men constantly to increased effort; 
 and went down himself to the shore, to 
 watch the enemy, and try if he could 
 catch the least sound of movement among 
 the ships or the troops. He could hear 
 nothing, in the quiet summer night, but 
 the hour-watches striking, and the sen 
 tries cry, and returned up the hill with 
 words of renewed encouragement and 
 hope. The men went to work with great- 
 er spirit than ever ; and Colonel Prescott 
 saw, with great satisfaction, as the dawn 
 of morning approached, the intrenchment 
 rising fast : for he was particularly anx 
 ious to have a screen for his raw troops, 
 
 since he believed it would be difficult to 
 keep them, however firm in their patriot 
 ism, steady enough to stand for the first 
 time in an open field against artillery and 
 well-disciplined soldiers. 
 
 When morning broke, so diligent had 
 been the Americans, that they had al 
 ready fortified their position with a re 
 doubt almost complete, and an intrench 
 ment of six feet in height. All this, more 
 over, had been done in such silence and 
 secrecy, that nothing was observed or 
 suspected by the British, until the sailors, 
 as day dawned, saw from the decks of 
 the men-of-war the American fortress, 
 which had risen upon the hill during the 
 night as if by magic. The captain of the 
 Lively immediately put a spring on his 
 cable, and, hauling in, opened a fire on 
 the works. This was done without or 
 ders ; and, upon the admiral being made 
 aware of it, it ceased momentarily, and 
 then each of his ships opened its broad 
 side and played unceasingly upon the 
 hill. The British battery on Copp s hill 
 also joined in with a brisk cannonade. 
 
 The firing aroused all Boston 
 and the neighboring suburbs ; 
 and the inhabitants poured out, taking 
 their positions on the housetops, the roofs 
 of the churches, and the hills, looking 
 anxiously at what was going on. The 
 patriots continued their work, in spite 
 of the fatigue of the night s labor and 
 the heat of the summer sun, as it came 
 out, dartiiig its burning rays upon them. 
 For awhile, the firing from the British 
 ships and the battery on Copp s hill did 
 no damage, as the provincials were pro 
 tected by the intrenchments. A private, 
 
 June 17. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY ] 
 
 THE FIRST KILLED. 
 
 165 
 
 however, having ventured out, was struck 
 down by a ball and instantly killed. This 
 created quite a panic among the raw 
 troops, and some of the men made off in 
 fright. 
 
 Colonel Prescott, in order to reassure 
 his inexperienced soldiers, now mounted 
 the parapet, and, walking deliberately 
 upon it, encouraged them at their work, 
 and talked laughingly of the chances of 
 war. At this moment, General Gage was 
 watching with his glass the patriot move 
 ment on the hill, and, seeing a tall per 
 son on the top of the works, asked Coun 
 cillor Willard, at his side, " Who is that 
 person, giving orders ?" " It s my broth 
 er-in-law Prescott," was the answer. " Will 
 he fight?" inquired the general. "Yes, 
 sir," replied Willard ; " he s an old soldier, 
 and will fight while there is a drop of 
 blood left in his veins!" "The works 
 must be carried," was all that Gage said 
 in rejoinder. 
 
 Colonel Prescott, succeeding in allay 
 ing the panic, and getting his men again 
 at work, the fortifications continued to 
 make fair progress ; although the day, as 
 it advanced, became fearfully hot, and 
 the troops suffered greatly, not only from 
 the heat, but from excessive fatigue and 
 want of refreshments, which they had 
 strangely neglected to provide them 
 selves with. The men at last began to 
 grow discontented, and some murmured 
 loudly. The officers took up their cause, 
 and urged the colonel to send to General 
 Ward, at Cambridge, for other men to 
 take the place of those who had worked 
 all night. Prescott refused, saying : " The 
 <meiny will not dare to attack us ; and if 
 
 they do, they will be defeated. The men 
 who have raised the works are the best 
 able to defend them ; already they have 
 learned to despise the fire of the enemy. 
 They have the merit of the labor, and 
 shall have the honor of the victory." 
 
 The patriots were certainly becoming 
 fast inured to warfare, under the severe 
 discipline of Prescott, who gave them a 
 foretaste of the summary mode of doing 
 business in the time of war, by the man 
 ner in which he disposed of their com 
 rade, the first killed by a cannon-ball. 
 His death was reported to the colonel by 
 one of the subaltern officers, who asked 
 what was to be done with the body. 
 " Bury it," replied Prescott. " The chap 
 lain," says Irving, describing this scene, 
 " gathered some of his military flock about 
 him, and was proceeding to perform suita 
 ble obsequies over the first martyr, but 
 Prescott ordered that the men should 
 disperse to their work, and the deceased 
 be buried immediately." The object of 
 the colonel was, no doubt, to remove as 
 soon as possible from the thoughts of his 
 agitated men this by no means unusual 
 event of battle, upon which they were 
 disposed to dwell with a persistency of 
 grief quite unsuitable and inconvenient 
 to the occasion. 
 
 The British troops now began to move, 
 and evidentlv with the view of attacking 
 
 * O 
 
 the American works on Breed s hill. Gen 
 eral Gage had held a council of his offi 
 cers in the morning, when there was a 
 dispute respecting the plan of operations. 
 Some, of whom Clinton was one, had ex 
 pressed themselves strongly in favor of 
 lauding in the rear, and, by thus cutting 
 
166 
 
 BATTLES OF -AMERICA. 
 
 [_PART II. 
 
 off the retreat of the patriots from the 
 hill, proposed to hem them in within the 
 peninsula between two British fires : oth 
 ers, and among them Gage, who decided 
 the question, were for crossing directly 
 from Boston, and attacking them in front. 
 This was the bolder expedient, but far 
 the more dangerous, and which would 
 probably never have been entertained, 
 had it not been for the general s absurd 
 contempt of the prowess of the provin 
 cials. 
 
 The Americans heard the commotion 
 in the British camp with some degree of 
 anxiety. As the sound of the wheels of 
 the artillery-wagons rattling in the streets 
 of Boston, and of the beating to quarters 
 of the troops with drum and fife, came 
 across the waters, it startled the raw mi 
 litia with such an alarming expectation 
 of approaching battle, that they began to 
 show considerable solicitude for relief. 
 Their officers now urged again upon Pres- 
 cott to send to General Ward for fresh 
 men as substitutes for those on the 
 ground, who were completely worn out 
 by the night s fatigue and the want of 
 refreshment. Prescott would not listen 
 to anything which should deprive the 
 men then under his command of the glo 
 ry which he earnestly believed would be 
 the result of the day, but was induced to 
 send a messenger, soliciting reinforce 
 ments and a supply of provisions. 
 
 Ward had been already urged to send 
 aid to Prescott early in the morning, by 
 General Putnam, whose experienced eye 
 saw that the struggle was to be on the 
 hill, and that the day would be a hard 
 one. The general had consented, some 
 
 what unwillingly, and had ordered Stark 
 and Reed, with the New-Hampshire men, 
 to reinforce Prescott. These were on 
 their march when the messenger arrived 
 from the hill. Ward now refused to send 
 any more, as he was convinced that the 
 British attack was to be in his own direc 
 tion, and not against the American forti 
 fications on Breed s hill. 
 
 As the clay advanced, the British suc 
 ceeded, by means of the flood-tide, in 
 floating in toward the Charlestown pen 
 insula several batteries, by which, in ad 
 dition to the ships, they were enabled 
 greatly to increase their fire. The pro 
 vincials, however, took no further notice 
 of the cannonade, than by an occasional 
 return-shot from a single gun in their re 
 doubt. They went on with their work 
 until eleven o clock, when they stopped 
 from their labors, and, having laid aside 
 their intrenching- tools, anxiously awaited 
 the arrival of the expected refreshments 
 and reinfoi cements from Cambridge. 
 
 General Putnam now rode up to the 
 redoubt, and, hurrying to Colonel Pres 
 cott, told him that the intrenching-tools 
 must be sent off, or they would be lost. 
 The colonel replied that, if he sent any 
 of the men away with the tools, not one 
 of them would return. To this the gen 
 eral answered, " They shall every man 
 return !" A large party was then sent 
 off with the tools, and not one of them 
 returned ! Some of the tools, however, 
 and men to use them, got no farther than 
 Bunker s hill, where Putnam put them to 
 irood service in raising; a breastwork. 
 
 o <-> 
 
 At about noon, the British became ac 
 tive in their preparations for attack. The 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 CHARACTER OF GENERAL HOWE. 
 
 June 17. 
 
 men-of-war were hauled closer in toward 
 the Charlestown shore, and their guns 
 began to play briskly along the low lands 
 opposite to the north end of Boston, 
 where the British troops were embarking 
 in their boats and barges. Under the 
 cover of this fire from the ships, and a 
 continued cannonade from the battery 
 on Copp s hill, the troops left the 
 Boston side, and began to cross 
 the river. The barges, twenty-eight in 
 number, crowded with soldiers, moved 
 regularly across in parallel lines. It was 
 a bright summer s day, and the mid-day 
 sun was pouring down a flood of light, 
 which glowed brilliantly in the stream, 
 and upon the flashing accoutrements of 
 the English officers and soldiers in their 
 uniforms of scarlet, and with their pol 
 ished arms and gilded ornaments. The 
 troops were three thousand of the choi 
 cest of Gage s army, and were led by 
 Major-General Howe. 
 
 WILLIAM HOWE was a younger brother 
 of the gallant earl who fell at Ticonder- 
 oga in 1758. So greatly had that youth 
 ful nobleman endeared himself, by his 
 amiable qualities, to the Americans, while 
 fighting with them in the common cause 
 against the French, that they now saw 
 with exceeding pain his brother present 
 ing himself as their enemy. " America 
 is amazed to find the name of Howe in 
 the catalogue of her enemies ; she loved 
 his brother," were the warm words of an 
 address of the continental Congress to 
 the people of Ireland. William Howe 
 himself, however, was not the man to 
 sympathize strongly with any sentimen 
 tal affection. He was a careless, good- 
 
 natured man, " the most indolent of mor 
 tals, and never took further pains to ex 
 amine the merits or demerits of the cause 
 in which he was engaged than merely to 
 recollect that Great Britain was said to 
 be the mother-country ; George III. king 
 of Great Britain ; that the king and Par 
 liament formed the supreme power ; that 
 a supreme power is absolute and uncon 
 trollable ; that all resistance must conse 
 quently be rebellion ; but, above all, that 
 he was a soldier, and bound to obey in 
 all cases whatever."* Being a younger 
 son, he was " provided for" by a commis 
 sion in the army, and, confidently trustr 
 ing to the influence of his aristocratic 
 family for advancement, gave himself lit 
 tle anxiety about the present or the fu 
 ture. He was brave, like all his race, 
 and with his handsome figure, six feet in 
 height, and his frank, chivalrous air, made 
 a gallant-looking officer. He had no pre 
 tensions, however, to the genius which 
 can conceive great enterprises, and bring 
 them to triumphant results. He had nei 
 ther the active sympathy with the good, 
 of the young lord who fell at Ticonder- 
 oga, nor the administrative ability and 
 energy of Admiral Howe (at this time 
 the earl) ; but, like his two brothers, he 
 possessed courage, and, as that was all 
 that was required in the present emer 
 gency, he had the spirit equal to the oc 
 casion. Lee dashes off his character thus : 
 " He is naturally good-humored, complai 
 sant, but illiterate and indolent to the last 
 degree, unless as an executive soldier, in 
 which capacity he is all fire and activity, 
 brave and cool as Julius Cassar. His un- 
 
 * General Charles Lee. 
 
168 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPAHT n. 
 
 derstanding is rather good than other 
 wise ; but was totally confounded and 
 stupefied by the immensity of the task 
 imposed upon him. He shut his eyes, 
 fought his battles, drank his bottle, had 
 
 his little advised with his counsellors, 
 
 received his orders, shut his eyes, fought 
 again." 
 
 Howe succeeded in landing his men 
 in admirable order on the Charlestown 
 
 shore, and drew them up in three 
 June 17, 
 
 lines. Covered as they were by 
 
 the British men-of-war and batteries, no 
 attempt was made by the patriots to dis 
 pute their landing; and they quietly took 
 up their position at the bottom of Breed s 
 hill at the north, without even a musketr 
 shot being fired. Howe now reconnoi 
 tred the American fortifications, and, find 
 ing them more formidable than he had 
 supposed, thought it would be necessary 
 to have reinforcements before he could 
 effectually perform the duty of the day, 
 which was, " to drive the rebels from their 
 works." He accordingly sent to Gage 
 for more troops and ammunition, as, by 
 a stupid blunder, the cartridges he had 
 brought with him were too big for his 
 fieldpieces ! In the meantime, refresh 
 ments were plentifully distributed to the 
 men, who were allowed to stack their 
 arms, and gather in groups upon the 
 grass, while they ate and drank to their 
 fill. 
 
 The landing, however, of the British 
 troops at Charlestown, though unresisted, 
 created a great commotion in Cambridge, 
 where General Ward had his headquar 
 ters, and where were gathered, not only 
 the main body of the provincial troops, 
 
 but large numbers of old men, women, 
 and children, whose sons, husbands, and 
 sires, had shouldered their muskets, and 
 were awaiting a struggle which, brought 
 it victory or defeat, would certainly bring 
 death and sorrow to many a loving heart. 
 The bells of the churches and college at 
 Cambridge were ringing ; drums beat in 
 the American camp ; and horses clattered 
 through the streets, bearing messengers 
 with orders for the commanders to assem 
 ble their regiments and prepare to march. 
 Adjutants were seen riding fast from point 
 to point. One comes by at full gallop. 
 "What is the matter?" shouts a youth, 
 coming quietly out of his lodgings after 
 dinner. " Have you not heard ?" " No." 
 "Why, the regulars are landing at 
 Charlestown, and we are all to meet and 
 march immediately to Bunker s hill, to 
 oppose the enemy." The adjutant puts 
 spurs to his horse, and is away, shouting, 
 " Turn out ! turn out !" The youth waits 
 not, but runs, gets his arms and ammuni 
 tion, and hastens to his company in the 
 church where it has its barrack, and finds 
 his comrades almost ready for the inarch. 
 They are soon equipped with their frocks 
 and trousers of "blue turned up with red," 
 drawn over their other clothes ; for they 
 are loth, with a rising martial pride, to 
 expose themselves in other than a mili 
 tary trim. Thus prepared, off they start. 
 General Putnam, who seemed to be ev 
 erywhere that day (riding hurriedly now 
 to Bunker s hill and urging on his favor 
 ite work there, now to Breed s, and then 
 to Cambridge), at this moment came gal 
 loping his horse to headquarters, and, or 
 dering out those of the Connecticut men 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 WARREN TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 169 
 
 that were left, led them forward to the 
 aid of Prescott on the heights. General 
 Ward, retaining two or three regiments 
 to protect Cambridge, sent on the remain 
 der of the Massachusetts troops to Charles- 
 town. 
 
 The patriots on the hill, still without 
 reinforcements, and with but a scanty 
 supply of refreshments, looked down from 
 their intrenchments upon the brilliant 
 array of the enemy below them with re 
 spectful awe, and almost with envy, as, 
 half famished themselves, they beheld the 
 "red-coats" making jolly over their abun 
 dant food and " bucketfuls of grog." The 
 patriots became irritable and suspicious, 
 and even charged their leaders with wan 
 tonly exposing them to destruction. The 
 men were almost exhausted by fatigue 
 and hunger ; they were conscious of their 
 inexperience as soldiers ; they saw a for 
 midable British force, with its immense 
 resources of art, threatening them. It 
 
 was natural that a raw militia, under such 
 circumstances, should be disheartened, 
 and, wanting self-confidence, should tem 
 porarily lose trust in their leaders. A 
 the reinforcements did not come, as the 
 supply of provisions failed them, they not 
 unnaturally became disaffected. They 
 were, however, now cheered by the time 
 ly arrival of Generals Warren and Pome- 
 roy, who as they came in were welcomed 
 with loud hurrahs. These were true pa 
 triots, whom none, the most suspicious, 
 ever doubted. Their assurances of ap 
 proaching aid, and their own resolute dec 
 laration to share as volunteers in the dan 
 gers of the day, soon dispelled all suspi 
 cion, and encouraged the men to renewed 
 hope and confidence. The ever-active 
 Putnam, too, came riding in, cheering all 
 by his hearty words and his undaunted 
 bearing, and then galloping away again, 
 to hurry on the approaching reinforce 
 ments. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Works on Bunker s Hill described. The Approach of the British Troops. Arrival of Warren. Howe s Address 
 to his Soldiers. The Struggle. The British repulsed. "Old Put" at the Guns. Cheers of Victory. The British 
 again driven back. Charlestown set on Fire. General Clinton volunteers. Another Attack and Repulse. The Sub 
 limity of the Scene. A Final Rally of the British. The Last Struggle, and Retreat of the Provincials. Howe does 
 not pursue. The Dead and Wounded. The Moral Victory of the Provincials at Bunker s Hill. Death of Warren, 
 and the Public Grief. His History. The English Loss. 
 
 1775, 
 
 THE patriots, with renewed spirit, 
 indulged less in despairing reflec 
 tions about the formidable aspect of the 
 enemy which threatened them, and set 
 to work in making further preparations 
 for defence. Although it was as late as 
 22 
 
 June 17. 
 
 three o clock in the afternoon, 
 
 and the British might be expectr 
 
 ed at any moment, the fortifications on 
 
 Bunker s hill were by no means complete. 
 
 The redoubt which had been built was 
 
 small, being only eight rods square ; and 
 
170 
 
 BATTLES 0V AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT 
 
 although tolerably strong in front, with 
 its projecting angles, it was weaker on 
 the other sides. On the east was a large 
 field, which was commanded by the guns 
 of the redoubt on that side. Continuous 
 with this eastern side of the redoubt, a 
 breastwork extended a hundred yards 
 north, to what was called " The Slough." 
 Beyond this slough there was a space of 
 some three hundred feet entirely unpro 
 tected ; while, still farther on, there was 
 a rail-fence. The redoubt and the breast 
 work were cannon-proof The rail-fence 
 merely offered a partial cover to a marks 
 man, and could not be styled a defence, 
 though it might slightly obstruct the ap 
 proach of the enemy. Thus, to the north 
 of the breastwork from the ridge of the 
 hill down to the water s edge of the Mys 
 tic river, there was nothing but a rail- 
 fence ; and in this direction there offered 
 an opportunity for the British to approach 
 in security. 
 
 Howe began now to move his troops ; 
 and, as his right wing seemed to be ta 
 king a direction along the shore, which 
 was thought to indicate the design of 
 making a flank movement through the 
 unprotected approach at the north, Pres- 
 cott ordered Captain Knowlton, with his 
 Connecticut men, to go down the hill and 
 prepare to oppose the British advance in 
 that direction. Knowlton marched and 
 took up his position to the rear of the 
 redoubt, on the low ground which sepa 
 rated like a shallow valley the two hills 
 of Bunker and Breed. Here he found a 
 rail-fence, which topped a foot-wall of 
 stone, and, with ready Yankee ingenuity, 
 turned it into a very tolerable breast 
 
 work. Having gathered together a num 
 ber of rails, he erected another fence, be 
 hind the original one, and filled in the 
 space between them with new-mown hay 
 which he found ready to his hand in the 
 neighboring fields. 
 
 While the Connecticut men were thus 
 engaged in their novel style of construct 
 ing a fortification, Stark came to their 
 aid with his New-Hampshire men. He 
 had been long in crossing from Medford, 
 whence he had set out early by the or 
 ders of General Ward. As he was com 
 ing deliberately along Charlestown neck, 
 and the British man-of-war which com 
 manded that point was blazing at him 
 and his troops, an officer suggested to 
 Stark that it might be well to quicken 
 their march. But the veteran shook his 
 head, and replied, " One fresh man in ac 
 tion is worth ten fatigued ones." His 
 troops continued their slow and regular 
 step as before. When Stark reached the 
 ground, he addressed a few pithy words 
 to his men, and, after sending some of 
 them to aid General Putnam at the works 
 upon Bunker s hill, set the rest, to labor 
 with Knowlton s party at the rail-and- 
 hay battery. 
 
 When the struggle was about to com 
 mence, Warren stationed himself in the 
 redoubt. As he came in, he was offered 
 by Prescott the chief command, but de 
 clined, saying, "I am come to fight as a 
 volunteer, and feel honored in being al 
 lowed to serve under so able a command 
 er." Pomeroy went down to do duty at 
 the rail-fence, and here Warren had also 
 gone and remained momentarily, when 
 the command there was likewise offered 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE FIRST ONSET AT BUNKER S HILL. 
 
 171 
 
 him. " No," he replied ; " I only wish to 
 know where I can be of most service as 
 a private soldier." "The redoubt," said 
 General Putnam, who also remarked that 
 he would be there under cover. " Do n t 
 think I seek a place of safety ! where will 
 the attack be the hottest?" sharply re 
 joined Warren. Putnam again replied : 
 " The redoubt, for that is the enemy s ob 
 ject ; and, if that can be maintained, the 
 day is ours." This decided Warren, and 
 he returned to the redoubt ; but nothing 
 would induce him to take the command, 
 as, although he had been chosen general, 
 he had not yet received his commission. 
 
 This was now the disposition of the 
 American force at the moment of acting. 
 Colonel Prescott was at the redoubt- and 
 breastwork, with the Massachusetts part 
 of the detachment which had arrived on 
 the ground the evening before, and had 
 raised the fortifications. The Connecti 
 cut troops, under Knowlton, together with 
 the New-Hampshire men, commanded by 
 Stark, were at the rail-fence battery ; and 
 here also, for a time, was General Putnam. 
 Captains Gridley and Callender had their 
 artillery-company and fieldpieces posted 
 at the exposed space between the breast 
 work and the rail-fence. As a reinforce 
 ment of Massachusetts troops came up at 
 the last moment, some of them entered 
 the redoubt, while others planted them 
 selves on the outside, to the right. 
 
 The British forces having remained at 
 Moulton s point, where they landed, un 
 til they had received the reinforcements 
 and ammunition which had been sent for 
 to Boston, now prepared, at three o clock 
 in the afternoon, to make the assault on 
 
 the American works upon Breed s hill. 
 His troops being drawn up, General Howe 
 rode in front and addressed them: 
 
 " Gentlemen, I am very happy in hav 
 ing the honor of commanding so fine a 
 body of men. I do not in the least doubt 
 but that you will behave like English 
 men, and as becometh good soldiers. 
 
 " If the enemy will not come from their 
 intrenchments, we must drive them out, 
 at all events ; otherwise the town of Bos 
 ton will be set on fire by them ! 
 
 " I shall not desire one of you to go a 
 step farther than where I go myself at 
 your head ! 
 
 "Remember, gentlemen, we have no 
 recourse to any resources, if we lose Bos 
 ton, but to go on board our ships, which 
 will be very disagreeable to us all !" 
 
 These spirited words were received by 
 the soldiers with a hearty cheer, and then 
 the army began to move. The left wing, 
 under General Pigot, was to advance up 
 the hill in face of the redoubt, and at 
 tempt to take it by assault. Howe him 
 self was to lead the right wing against 
 the American lines at the rail-fence, and 
 thus endeavor, by a flank movement, to 
 surround the rear and cut off the retreat 
 from the works. 
 
 This disposition having been made, the 
 march began. Howe orders his artillery 
 on the flank to fire ; and simultaneously 
 the English ships, the floating batteries, 
 and Copp s hill, join in w r ith a furious can 
 nonade, in order to cover the British ad 
 vance. The people in Boston, crowding 
 the tops of the houses and churches, are 
 listening to the thundering cannon with 
 stifled hearts ; and watching, at every 
 
172 
 
 break in the thick smoke, with eager 
 glance, to catch a sight of the slightest 
 movement. On Copp s hill stand the two 
 British generals Clinton and Burgoyne, 
 coolly contemplating with professional 
 interest the military manoeuvres, and not 
 for a moment doubting the success of the 
 British regulars. 
 
 Howe s artillery soon ceased its fire ; 
 not, however, before it had silenced the 
 guns of Gridley and Callender on the 
 hill. The latter even withdrew to Bun 
 ker s hill, declaring that his cartridges 
 were useless from being too large. Here 
 he was confronted by the ubiquitous Put 
 nam, who would listen to no excuses, and 
 ordered him back to his post on Breed s. 
 The panic-stricken Callender, however, 
 did not return, and his men abandoned 
 him in contempt. His fieldpieces were 
 then, by the order of Putnam, dragged 
 by some of his own men to the rail-fence, 
 and there posted for its defence. Howe s 
 artillery had ceased its fire, on account 
 of another stupid blunder, twelve-pound 
 balls having been for the most part sup 
 plied in lieu of six-pound, which the guns 
 required. They were then ordered to be 
 charged with grape. The artillery-wag 
 ons, however, got mired at the base of 
 the hill, and became fixed in a position 
 where the guns were of little service 
 
 General Pigot was now advancing up 
 the hill, at a deliberate and regular pace. 
 His men began at once to fire, although 
 they were at a great distance, and con 
 tinued to discharge their muskets as fast 
 as they could load them, and at every 
 step forward. The Americans had been 
 ordered not to return a shot until the 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 British were within thirty or forty paces. 
 " Powder is scarce, and must not be wast 
 ed !" "Fire low: aim at the waistbands!" 
 " Wait until you see the white of their 
 eyes!" "Aim at the handsome coats!" 
 "Pick off the commanders !" Such were 
 the expedient but rather un military or 
 ders hurriedly given by raw officers to 
 raw men. Some of the provincials, how 
 ever, lost patience, and began to return 
 the British fire. Colonel Prescott angrily 
 rebuked them for their disobedience ; and 
 some of his officers sprang on the top of 
 the parapet of the redoubt, and kicked 
 up the muskets which the men were lev 
 elling, and about to let off! 
 
 Pigot had now brought his grenadiers 
 quite close to the works, wlien Prescott 
 ordered his whole line to fire. The effect 
 of the volley was murderous, for, as each 
 American was a marksman, hardly a gun 
 missed its aim. The British, however, 
 quickly filled in the empty places of their 
 dead, and, firmly holding their ground, 
 returned the fire, but with little damage 
 to the Americans, who were protected by 
 their redoubt and breastwork. The sec 
 ond volley, which is even more effective 
 than the first, is so terrible, that the ene 
 my are staggered, confused, and driven 
 back in flight. The officers run down 
 after their men, and, brandishing their 
 swords, passionately urge them back. 
 They succeed in rallying them again to 
 face the redoubt, but are once more re 
 pulsed ; and Pigot, agonized by the car 
 nage, and hopeless of success, orders a 
 retreat. The Americans shouted out a 
 loud and triumphant hurrah as the ene 
 my retired. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 CHARLESTOWN IN FLAMES. 
 
 178 
 
 While Pigot was thus repulsed in front, 
 Howe was marching his right wing in 
 confidence against the left of the Ameri 
 cans. These latter were ready for the en 
 emy ; and as soon as the British showed 
 themselves, General Putnam ordered the 
 artillery abandoned by the inefficient Cal- 
 lender to fire, which was done with ex 
 cellent effect, " Old Put" himself pointing 
 the pieces. As the enemy advanced, but 
 when still at some distance, several of the 
 provincials, contrary to orders, began to 
 fire. Putnam, however, soon put a stop 
 to this, declaring he would strike down 
 the next man who dared to disobey. The 
 premature musket- balls succeeded in 
 drawing the fire of the British lines, which 
 then began a regular succession of vol 
 leys ; but their shots were too high, and 
 passed over the heads of the Americans. 
 
 The eager provincial marksmen were 
 now permitted to return the enemy s fire, 
 which they did with the usual efficacy of 
 such good shots. Each man rested his 
 musket upon the fence, and, deliberately 
 taking aim, did not fail to bring down his 
 victim. The officers were here, as at the 
 redoubt, picked off the first. " There ! 
 see that officer!" "Let us have a shot 
 at him !" they cried, in their eager rival 
 ry to shoot. The execution was as ter 
 rible as it was sure ; and the British ranks 
 were so affrighted by the carnage, that 
 they began to retreat in disorder, after 
 the very first volley. The Americans 
 were in high spirits, to which they gave 
 vent in cheers of victory. 
 
 When these repulses, so disheartening 
 to the British, were observed by Gage, 
 he determined to fulfil a purpose which 
 
 he had resolved upon before the strug 
 gle. This purpose Avas, to burn Charles- 
 town. Orders were now given to the 
 battery at Copp s hill to shower shells 
 upon the town ; and soon, as the houses 
 and buildings were of wood, the whole 
 place was in a blaze. Simultaneously, 
 Howe and Pigot had rallied their troops, 
 and were commencing a second assault. 
 General Clinton, who had been so coolly 
 looking on from the heights of Copp s 
 hill in the beginning, no sooner observed 
 the repulse of his boasted regulars, than, 
 without awaiting orders, he jumped into 
 a boat, crossed the river, and hurried to 
 the aid of his comrades. 
 
 The Americans, too, in confident en 
 thusiasm, were spiritedly preparing for 
 the renewed struggle. Colonel Prescott 
 was encouraging his troops with well- 
 deserved praise, and urging them to obe 
 dience in regard to the reserve of their 
 fire. The busy Putnam had galloped off 
 for reinforcements, and was back with a 
 few stragglers only. He inspirited his 
 men, however, who had done their duty 
 so well before, with promises of the same 
 success on the same good conduct in the 
 corning action. 
 
 The struggle again began. The Britr 
 ish troops seemed resolved on victory, 
 but did not alter their plans of attack. 
 As before, Pigot was moving up the hill 
 in front of the redoubt, and Howe was 
 renewing his flank movement. The well- 
 disciplined regulars marched slowly and 
 steadily to their work. 
 
 To the beholder, the whole scene of 
 action was terrific. General Burgoyne, 
 who was a looker-on from the battery at 
 
174 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_PART n. 
 
 Copp s hill, said : " Sure I am, nothing 
 ever has been or can be more dreadfully 
 terrible than what was to be seen or 
 heard at this time. The most incessant 
 discharge that ever was heard by mortal 
 ears ! . . . Terrible indeed was that scene/ 
 he repeats, " even at our distance. The 
 western horizon was one huge body of 
 smoke, and in the evening a continued 
 blaze ; and the perpetual sound of can 
 non and volleys of musketry worked up 
 our imaginations to a high degree of 
 fright," The scene was no doubt terrific, 
 but the patriots beheld it without dismay, 
 though not without indignation. The 
 provincial troops were not even inconve 
 nienced, for, as the summer breeze quick 
 ened toward evening, the dark clouds of 
 smoke were driven aside, and the enemy 
 so revealed to view, that each American 
 musket could mark its victim in the clear 
 light of the summer afternoon. 
 
 The British came on as before, firing 
 at every step as they advanced. The 
 Americans, more obedient than on the 
 former occasion, reserved their fire until 
 the enemy were close to them, and then 
 sent forth a murderous volley. The Brit 
 ish troops bore it well, notwithstanding 
 its fatal effect upon their ranks, and held 
 their ground. The second volley stag 
 gered them, however, and sent them fly 
 ing back. Their officers did their best to 
 rally them ordering, threatening, and 
 even trying to goad them back to their 
 duty with the points of their swords. It 
 was, however, nil in vain : the men fled 
 to the bottom of the hill. Howe was con 
 spicuous among the officers in their efforts 
 to encourage the troops by their words 
 
 and own daring example. He was con 
 stantly in the van during the attack up 
 on the fence ; and, as one after another 
 of his aids was shot down, and his men 
 were falling back, he was left almost 
 alone, exposed as a prominent mark to 
 the whole American line of sharp-shoot 
 ers. But neither his example, his com 
 mands, nor his threats, could induce his 
 troops to advance in the face of the ter 
 rible fire of their foes. They continued 
 their retreat, and in great disorder ; some 
 even rushed to the shore, and sprang in 
 to the boats. 
 
 At this moment, the thousands of pa 
 triots who beheld the scene, from every 
 neighboring point of view, were cheered 
 with almost certain hope of final victory ; 
 while the British looked on from Boston 
 with anxious alarm. Burgoyne;who was 
 a witness of the whole action from Copp s 
 hill, acknowledged that the moment was 
 critical, for he saw that Howe s forces 
 were staggered. He declared loudly that 
 it Avould require the utmost exertion ol 
 all the officers, from the generals down 
 to the subalterns, to repair the disorder 
 which the hot and unexpected fire of the 
 Americans had produced. A long pause 
 now ensued, while Howe and his gener 
 als were striving to reform their disor 
 dered troops. 
 
 Prescott, in the meanwhile, pointing to 
 the heaps of the dead and dying, which 
 lay scattered on the hill to within a few 
 yards of the works, reminded his men of 
 the good service they had done, and en 
 couraged them to meet with the same 
 spirit the next attack. "If they are 
 driven back once more," said he, " they 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE LAST ASSAULT. 
 
 175 
 
 will never rally again." The men an 
 swered him with a cheer, and cried out, 
 " We are ready for the red-coats again !" 
 The colonel, however, felt more anxiety 
 than he cared to express. He knew that 
 the ammunition was failing ; and so long 
 had he been expecting in vain the arri 
 val of reinforcements, that he almost gave 
 up all hope Of any aid reaching him in 
 time. The British still hesitated about 
 renewing the attack ; and the pause ap 
 peared so long, that the Americans began 
 to hope that the work of the day was 
 over, and that the victory was theirs. 
 
 While Prescott was anxiously await 
 ing reinforcements, Putnam was doing his 
 best to bring them. He rode to the rear 
 of Bunker s hill, and, meeting with a regi 
 ment of Massachusetts men, detailed some 
 for work on the fortifications, and sent 
 the rest to do duty at the fence. He 
 found Gridley falling back, with the view 
 of covering, as he said, the retreat of the 
 patriots, and tried to bring him to the 
 ground again, but did not succeed. Put 
 nam was indefatigable, but failed to get 
 the aid which he hoped, and returned to 
 his post. 
 
 Howe now determined upon another 
 assault. Some of his officers loudly op 
 posed it, saying it would be downright 
 butchery to lead the men against the ter 
 rible American fire. The general, how 
 ever, insisted, declaring that British hon 
 or was at stake. They must " fight, con 
 quer, or die," as it would never do for 
 English soldiers to give way before a 
 rabble rout of rustic rebels ; and, besides," 
 he continued, " there is no chance now to 
 retreat, as all the boats are on the other 
 
 side of the river." General Clinton ar 
 riving at this moment, and bringing with 
 him a timely reinforcement of four hun 
 dred marines, the men were encouraged, 
 and resigned themselves, though with a 
 disheartened air, to the seemingly des 
 perate orders of their commander. Howe 
 had learned wisdom from the " rustics," 
 and prudently assumed their mode of 
 warfare. His troops were ordered to re 
 serve their fire until close to the works, 
 which it was now determined to make 
 the main object of attack. The artillery 
 was, moreover, to be applied more effect 
 ually, and to be brought up in such a 
 position as to rake the breastwork and 
 fence. Clinton and Pigot were to lead 
 the left division, against the redoubt; 
 while Howe had reserved for himself and 
 his grenadiers and light-infantry the at 
 tack on the breastwork. 
 
 The British officers were determined 
 to carry the American works at all haz 
 ards of toil and death. They were en 
 couraged by the .discovery that the 
 "rebels "were almost without ammuni 
 tion, and the fact from the raking fire 
 which the English ships and batteries 
 succeeded in keeping up across Charles- 
 town neck that the Americans had but 
 little chance of receiving reinforcements. 
 The troops were ordered, if their fire 
 should prove ineffectual, to carry the 
 works at the point of the bayonet. To 
 lighten them for this active service, the 
 men were told to throw off their knap 
 sacks ; and some of the soldiers, on that 
 hot day, stripped themselves to their 
 shirt-sleeves. 
 
 Prescott now beheld the steady ap- 
 
176 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 proach of the British with unusual anxi 
 ety. His ammunition was reduced to a 
 few artillery -cartridges. These he or 
 dered to be opened, and the powder they 
 contained to be distributed to his troops, 
 begging them " not to waste a grain of 
 it, and to be sure to make every shot 
 tell." A few only of the Americans had 
 bayonets to their muskets, and these were 
 stationed at the most exposed points of 
 the redoubt. Such were the desperate 
 straits to Avhich the rest were reduced 
 for want of means of defence, that they 
 collected together heaps of stones, to use 
 as missiles against the enemy; and the 
 men, laying hold by the barrels, bran 
 dished their muskets, and declared that 
 they would beat back the British with 
 the butt-ends. 
 
 Howe first made a show of attack on 
 the rail-fence, but he soon concentrated 
 his force against the works. His artille 
 ry was so brought to bear, that it swept 
 the breastwork from end to end, and drove 
 its defenders into the redoubt. Prescott 
 saw the success of this manoeuvre, and 
 feared the fatal result. He was, however, 
 firm in his determination to resist to the 
 last, and continued resolutely to give his 
 orders, with his usual calmness. His men, 
 whose powder was reduced to little more 
 than a single charge each, were again and 
 again ordered to reserve their fire until 
 the latest moment. When the enemy 
 had reached within twenty yards of the 
 redoubt, the word " Fire !" was given, and 
 the Americans sent forth another of their 
 volleys, with the usual terrific effect : the 
 British ranks were broken by the numer 
 ous dead, and the whole body staggered 
 
 momentarily ; but the columns quickly 
 formed again, and, without returning the 
 fire, advanced steadily forward. As usual, 
 the English officers suffered the most by 
 the American fire, several of them having 
 been killed, and General Howe himself 
 wounded in the foot. He continued, how 
 ever, to lead on his troops, without giving 
 a momentary regard to his own suffering. 
 
 The Americans, with hardly any am 
 munition left, could no longer fire their 
 fatal volleys ; and their shots were so 
 scant, that the British troops succeeded 
 in marching up to the redoubt, and be 
 gan to scale its w r alls. A spirited young 
 Irish officer was the first to mount the 
 parapet, which he had just reached, shout 
 ing, " The day is ours !" when he was shot 
 down, and with him fell those who had 
 immediately followed. Major Pitcairn. 
 who commanded the British in the skir 
 mish at Lexington, was among the earli 
 est on the wall, and, as he mounted, cried 
 out, " Now for the glory of the marines !" 
 when he was toppled over by a mortal 
 shot, from a negro volunteer. 
 
 The British soldiers now began to 
 swarm over, while the Americans inef 
 fectually attempted to resist them by 
 hurling stones at them. This only en 
 couraged the enemy, for they were con 
 scious that the ammunition of the re 
 doubt was exhausted. The strnsro-le now 
 
 GO 
 
 was hand to hand. The British had the 
 advantage of their bayonets and reserved 
 fire, but the Americans made a manful 
 resistance with the stocks of their mus 
 kets. It was, however, in vain. Gener 
 al Pigot had succeeded, by the aid of a 
 tree, in mounting the wall ; and, spring- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 RETREAT OF THE PROVINCIALS. 
 
 177 
 
 ing down into the redoubt, was followed 
 by swarms of his men, whose bristling 
 bayonets filled the space within; and 
 their thronging steps, stirring up the 
 ground, raised such a cloud of dust, that 
 the outlet of the fortress could scarcely 
 be seen. Colonel Prescott, seeing that 
 all hope of further successful resistance 
 was gone, ordered his men to retreat. 
 Driven as they were into a corner, it was 
 difficult for them to get out. Some scram 
 bled over the top of the walls, and others 
 had to cut their way through the oppo 
 sing enemy. Prescott himself was the 
 last to retire, and only succeeded in es 
 caping by striking down, with his sword, 
 bayonet after bayonet, thrust at his life. 
 He retained his martial bearing through 
 out. " lie did not run, but stepped along, 
 with his sword up." Notwithstanding his 
 cool and deliberate movements, he got 
 off unharmed, although both his " banyan 
 and waistcoat were perforated in several 
 places."* 
 
 As the British took possession of the 
 American works, they set up a loud huz 
 za of triumph. They then reformed, and 
 began to fire upon the retreating provin 
 cials, doing more havoc than they had 
 yet done. Warren was at this moment 
 killed by a shot through the head ; and, 
 as he was among the last to leave the 
 works, there were none to carry him from 
 the field. Colonel Gardner was killed ; 
 Gridley and Bridge were wounded ; and 
 a number of other officers, with many 
 privates, suffered. 
 
 The Americans at the rail-fence, in the 
 meanwhile, had gallantly held their posi- 
 
 * Frothinghum. 
 23 
 
 tion, having resisted all attempts to turn 
 their flank. When, however, they saw 
 that the redoubt was in possession of the 
 enemy, and that their comrades were in 
 full retreat, they also retired, but with 
 wonderful regularity for such raw troops. 
 Their steady courage and excellent or 
 der saved Prescott s force from being ex 
 terminated; for, by defending the rear, 
 they prevented the British troops from 
 surrounding the American main body, 
 and thus cutting off its retreat. General 
 Putnam steadily withdrew his men, from 
 their position at the base, up the ascent 
 of Bunker s hill, where he strove to bring 
 the rest of the retreating forces to a stand. 
 He rode to the rear of the troops, while 
 the British bullets w r ere flying thick and 
 fast about his head, and entreated them 
 to turn again and front the enemy. " We 
 can make a stand here !" he cried ; " we 
 can stop them yet. In God s name, form 
 and give them one shot more !" The 
 slaughter continued dreadful; and still 
 " Old Put," nothing daunted, stopped an 
 artillery-piece, and, pointing it against 
 the pursuers, stood by it until the Brit 
 ish bayonets were almost at his breast. 
 Pomeroy, too, another veteran, planting 
 himself with his broken musket in his 
 hand at the side of the resolute Putnam, 
 endeavored by his words and example to 
 rally his retreating comrades. The tor 
 rent, however, could not be stayed : the 
 patriots continued their flight over the 
 top and down the side of Bunker s hill, 
 across Charlestown neck (terribly galled 
 as they fled by a fire from the English 
 men-of-war and batteries), and into the 
 country, until they reached Cambridge. 
 
178 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 The British did not continue the pur 
 suit, although General Clinton earnestly 
 begged Howe to follow up his success by 
 pushing on his troops to Cambridge. He 
 seemed, however, satisfied at present with 
 his hardly-earned victory. His men were 
 exhausted by the day s work, and discour 
 aged by the loss of their comrades, among 
 whom the carnage had been so terrible. 
 It was getting late, moreover, it being 
 past five o clock when the British in pur 
 suit reached Bunker s hill. Here they 
 paused, and, receiving additional forces 
 from Boston, spent the night in raising 
 abreastwork to protect the position. 
 
 When Colonel Prescott reached Ward s 
 headquarters at Cambridge, he found the 
 general in great alarm, lest the enemy 
 should advance upon him and catch him 
 when so ill prepared for resistance. Pres 
 cott, however, set his mind somewhat at 
 ease, telling him he did not think that 
 the British would be in a very exulting 
 mood after that day s success. The colo 
 nel, after receiving Ward s thanks for his 
 gallant conduct, declared that it was true 
 lie had been vanquished, but that the en 
 emy had no reason to triumph ; for, if 
 the handful of men under his command, 
 though exhausted by fatigue and hunger, 
 had been supplied with sufficient ammu 
 nition and with bayonets, he could have 
 held his position. He offered, moreover, 
 to retake the hill that very night, if fif 
 teen hundred men, properly equipped 
 and supplied, should be given him. But 
 the more cautious Ward was not disposed 
 to accede to this daring proposition. 
 
 The loss of the British in killed and 
 wounded, in this momentous conflict, w r as 
 
 at least one thousand and fifty-four, while 
 that of the Americans was no more than 
 four hundred and fifty. 
 
 Though forced to retreat, the Ameri 
 cans gained a great moral victory, while 
 the British sustained equally a defeat. 
 The raw militia had proved that they 
 could not only stand the fire of regular 
 troops, but that they could resist them 
 effectually, with a fair hope of victorious 
 success. Critical judgments severely con 
 demned the conception of the enterprise 
 as rash, but all united in praising the 
 courage and steadiness with which it was 
 executed. An orator in the British house 
 of commons could not withhold his admi 
 ration of the American gallantry on the 
 occasion : " To a mind," he said, " which 
 loves to contemplate the glorious spirit 
 of freedom, no spectacle can be more af 
 fecting than the action at Bunker s hill. 
 To see an irregular peasantry, command 
 ed by a physician, inferior in number, 
 opposed by every circumstance of can 
 non and bombs that could terrify timid 
 minds, calmly wait the attack of the gal 
 lant Howe, leading on the best troops in 
 the world, with an excellent train of ar 
 tillery, and twice repulsing those very 
 troops, who had often chased the chosen 
 battalions of France, and at last retiring 
 for want of ammunition, but in so re 
 spectable a manner that they were not 
 even pursued who can reflect on such 
 scenes, and not adore the constitution 
 of government which could breed such 
 men ? * 
 
 The struggle on Bunker s hill might 
 
 * Governor Jolinstonc, in a speech in the house of com 
 mons, October 30, 1775. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 JOSEPH WARREN. 
 
 179 
 
 well be condemned on stragetic princi 
 ples, for nothing was gained in a purely 
 military point of view. It had, however, 
 a great influence in promoting the patri 
 otic cause ; it gave increased hope to the 
 defenders of that cause, and lessened the 
 confidence of its opponents. The most in 
 veterate tories in Great Britain acknowl 
 edged, when they heard of this dearly- 
 bought victory, that " affairs wore a seri 
 ous aspect in America ;" and none now 
 pretended that " with a couple of regi 
 ments" the whole of the colonies could 
 be subjected. The friends of America 
 were no less elated than its enemies were 
 depressed. When Washington heard of 
 the struggle at Bunker s hill, his first 
 question was, whether the militia had 
 stood the fire of the British regulars. On 
 
 o 
 
 being told that they had, he answered, 
 " The liberties of the country are safe." 
 Though joy was the more common 
 feeling throughout the country at the re 
 sult of the contest, there was a universal 
 grief at the loss sustained in the death 
 of Warren. Howe passed the highest eu- 
 logium on him when he said, as he saw 
 the body of the illustrious patriot lying 
 upon the battle-field, that " his death was 
 worth to the British five hundred of the 
 provincials." WARREN was still a young 
 man when he gave up his life to the cause 
 of his country. He was born in 1740, at 
 the farmhouse of his father in Roxbury. 
 Though of comparatively humble origin, 
 lie enjoyed the best opportunities of cul 
 ture that his country afforded. He grad 
 uated at Harvard college, and studied 
 medicine under the most eminent physi 
 cian at Boston, where he himself prac 
 
 tised his profession, and rapidly reached 
 its highest rank. Though devoted to his 
 art, his impulsive nature soon exhibited 
 a warm sympathy with the patriot cause 
 and he took an active part in the liberal 
 colonial politics of his day. He boldly 
 joined the bands of the " Sons of Liber 
 ty," and became conspicuous as a leader 
 among this brotherhood pledged to the 
 cause of freedom. He was a man cool 
 and judicious in counsel, and yet fervid 
 and even eloquent in utterance. He had 
 so much the reputation of an orator, that 
 he was chosen to deliver, in 1771, the ora 
 tion commemorative of the Boston mas 
 sacre. In 1775, he volunteered to per 
 form the same duty, for no other reason 
 than because the British officers had 
 threatened to take the life of any man 
 who should venture upon its perform 
 ance. Warren s offer was accepted, and 
 the day arrived. The meetinghouse was 
 the place appointed, and the British offi 
 cers seemed determined upon executing 
 their threat, for they filled the pews, the 
 aisles, and even the pulpit, with armed 
 soldiers. The young orator was obliged 
 to make his way, by means of a ladder, 
 through a window, to a back part of the 
 pulpit. The audience, though threaten 
 ing in look, kept a profound silence, while 
 Warren began his oration. Such was the 
 power of his earnest eloquence, that even 
 his military auditors, w T ho had come steel 
 ed to vengeance, were softened to tears 
 of sympathy and compassion for those 
 martyrs of freedom whose sacrifice the 
 youthful orator so feelingly described. 
 
 Warren was so highly esteemed in New 
 England, that he was chosen to succeed 
 
180 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART u 
 
 John Hancock as president of the provin 
 cial Congress ; and when hostilities with 
 Great Britain were imminent, he received 
 the commission of major-general. A con 
 temporary of Warren has said : " He was 
 valued in private life for his engaging 
 manners, and as a physician for his pro 
 fessional abilities. The death of an ami 
 able consort had made his life of the 
 greatest importance to his children; he 
 was willing, however, to risk it in the ser 
 vice of the public. His intrepidity and 
 zeal for the cause he had espoused, to 
 gether with the electing voice of the pro 
 vincial Congress, induced him to enter 
 upon the military line. Within four days 
 after his appointment to a major-general 
 ship, he fell a noble sacrifice to the natu 
 ral rights of mankind. He was of a mid 
 dling size, and of a lowish stature. The 
 ladies pronounced him handsome." 
 
 There were memorable officers, too, 
 who fell on the British side. Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Abercrombie was killed while 
 
 leading on his grenadiers up the hill. As 
 his soldiers were bearing him from the 
 field, he begged them to spare his old 
 friend Putnam. "If you take General 
 Putnam alive, don t hang him, for he s a 
 brave man," were among his dying words, 
 which showed how his brave heart was 
 beating true to a noble gallantry in its 
 latest pulsations. Major Pitcairn was also 
 greatly beloved, and his death sincerely 
 mourned. " I have lost my father !" cried 
 his son, who was of the same regiment. 
 " We all have lost a father !" was the ui> 
 terance of each soldier in it. Spendlove 
 and Addison, too, were gallant men; the 
 former a veteran of forty years service, 
 and the latter a worthy . collateral de 
 scendant of the gentle author of " The 
 Spectator." Only a single aid-de-camp of 
 Howe, so fatal to the British officers had 
 been the struggle, lived to reach England 
 Lieutenant Page whose escape from 
 the bloody conflict on Bunker s hill made 
 him memorable.* 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A Sad New-England Sabbath. The Anxieties of the British at Boston. The Stir in the American Camp. Arrival of 
 Washington. His Life. Personal Appearance. The Effect of his Presence in the Camp. A Council of War. Or 
 ganization of the Army. Reform and Discipline. Wants. Want of Government. Want of Respect. Want of 
 Uniformity. Want of Clothing. Want of Powder. Want of Money. No Lack of Spirit. 
 
 1775, 
 
 IT was an unusual Sunday for New 
 England, the day after the bloody 
 struggle on Breed s hill. The British 
 cannonade disturbed the peace of the 
 sabbath with its threatening roar. "It 
 has not ceased yet, and it is now three 
 
 June 18, 
 
 o clock, sabbath afternoon," writes Mrs. 
 Adams. "It is expected they 
 will come out over the Neck to 
 night, and a dreadful battle must ensue. 
 Almighty God ! cover the heads of our 
 
 * Frothin<rham. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 A SAD SABBATH. 
 
 181 
 
 countrymen, and be a shield to our dear 
 friends." A rumor was abroad that the 
 British were about to march to Cam 
 bridge, and take dreadful revenge for the 
 slaughter they had suffered on the previ 
 ous day. From the whole country round 
 crowds w T ere hurrying to the American 
 camp. Some were volunteers, coming 
 with their muskets on their shoulders, to 
 proffer their aid in the approaching dan 
 ger ; and many were fathers, too old to 
 bear arms, mothers, wives, and daugh 
 ters, who, with hearts stifled with com 
 pressed doubts and fears, anxiously sped 
 on their way, and breathlessly caught 
 the joyful word of hope or the agonizing 
 sentence of despair. They came to hear 
 of the life or the death of those they 
 loved. It was a day of mourning to ma 
 ny, and not a joyful sabbath to a single 
 soul. The country was in the agony of 
 its trial, and the throes of its suffering 
 sorely wrung the hearts of the bravest. 
 
 The British, however, were in no hu 
 mor or condition to execute the ven 
 geance which was feared. Their victory, 
 with its terrific slaughter, had staggered 
 them more than an ordinary defeat. As 
 the dead, during that whole day, were 
 borne through the streets of Boston, offi 
 cers and soldiers looked upon the remains 
 of their comrades with gloomy thoughts, 
 to which they gave utterance in murmurs 
 against their leaders, on account of the 
 sacrifice they had wrought. 
 
 Those inhabitants still left in the city 
 whose sympathy was with the patriotic 
 cause, could not conceal their indigna 
 tion at an army which seemed deter 
 mined, at any cost of blood, to crush out 
 
 American liberty. It was feared by the 
 British generals that the " rebels" of Bos 
 ton would arise in their rage, attack and 
 burn the town. All "unsuspected" citi 
 zens were called upon to relieve the mili 
 tary guards by establishing night-patrols. 
 Governor Gage issued a proclamation, re 
 quiring the inhabitants to surrender up 
 their firearms, and declaring that " all 
 persons in whose possession any firearms 
 may hereafter be found shall be deemed 
 enemies to his majesty s government." 
 Gage was alarmed, and only thought now 
 of defence, and not of active hostilities. 
 He had good occasion for anxiety, when 
 he saw from day to day the increased ani 
 mation of the patriotic spirit, and the ac 
 tivity with which the Americans prepared 
 to sustain the cause of their country. 
 
 The American camp was soon astir with 
 the daily arrivals of fresh troops from all 
 parts of New England. The patriots, al 
 though anxiously expectant of an attack 
 from the British, were now in high spir 
 its, and they even longed to " speak with 
 them again." The militia had learned a 
 great deal at Bunker s hill, and they be 
 came not only more cautious and vigi- 
 lant,but tolerably skilful in availing them 
 selves of the means and appliances of 
 military art. They at once set about 
 throwing up various kinds of defence, 
 and busied themselves in intrenching the 
 heights which they commanded in the 
 neighborhood of Boston. General Put 
 nam, as usual, was indefatigable. After 
 the retreat from Bunker s hill, he had 
 posted his Connecticut men on Prospect 
 hill, and at once began throwing up for 
 tifications. Such was the untiring ener- 
 
182 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 H-AKT n. 
 
 June 19. 
 
 gy of this aged veteran, that here he was 
 found, as described by his son, two days 
 after the battle, hard at work 
 with his own hands, without hav 
 ing " put off his clothes or washed him 
 self" since. At Roxbury, Winter hill was 
 newly fortified, and Cambridge strength 
 ened by additional works. 
 
 Little was done, by either the Ameri 
 cans or British, for a fortnight, in the way 
 of hostility. There was an occasional 
 skirmish. At one time, a couple of In 
 dians, belonging to a Massachusetts tribe 
 which had joined the Americans, had sur 
 prised, in ambush, an outpost of British 
 soldiers, and shot down with their arrows 
 four of them. This brought in revenge 
 a cannonade from Boston. Bombs were 
 frequently thrown by the enemy, which, 
 however, beyond setting a house or a 
 barn on fire, did little damage. The pa 
 triot army was now awaiting the arrival 
 of their new general, GEORGE WASHINGTON, 
 whose reputation, as a gallant officer in 
 the colonial battles, gave great hopes to 
 every man in the American ranks. 
 
 Most biographers have fondly traced 
 back the origin of Washington to a Wil 
 liam de Hertburn, who lived in the mid 
 dle of the thirteenth century. This gen 
 tleman came into the possession of a man 
 orial estate, in the county of Durham, in 
 England, called Washington, which name 
 he thence assumed, and his descendants 
 after him. A long line of reputable doc 
 tors, divines, lawyers, and squires, fol 
 lowed. Among them there was even a 
 knight, a gallant Sir Henry Washington, 
 who fought loyally for King Charles I., 
 bravely sustained the siege of Worcester 
 
 against the parliamentary forces, and dis 
 tinguished himself at the taking of Bris 
 tol. Diligent investigators have discov 
 ered that, in 1538, there was a Lawrence 
 Washington, w T ho had been a lawyer of 
 Gray s Inn, and mayor of Northampton, 
 to whom the manor of Sulgrave,in North 
 amptonshire, was granted. Two great 
 grandchildren of this gentleman went as 
 settlers to the colony of Virginia, about 
 the year 1657. Their eldest brother re 
 mained at home ; and proof is given of 
 his importance, by the statement of the 
 fact that he married a half-sister of the 
 duke of Buckingham. John and Law 
 rence were the names of the two emi 
 grants to Virginia, who, being younger 
 brothers, were forced to shift for them 
 selves. 
 
 The American hero was immediately 
 descended from Augustine Washington, 
 the second son of Lawrence, the elder of 
 the first two settlers in the colony. Au 
 gustine was married twice. By his first 
 wife, Jane Butler, he had four children : 
 Butler, who died in infancy; Lawrence; 
 Augustine ; and Jane, w r ho did not sur 
 vive her childhood. By his second wife, 
 Mary Ball, whom he married on the 6th 
 of March, 1730, he had six children 
 George, Betty, Samuel, John Augustine, 
 Charles, and Mildred. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON was born on the 
 22d of February, 1732, on an estate which 
 his father held and cultivated as a plant 
 er, on the banks of the Potomac, in Wesi> 
 moreland county. The father died at the 
 age of forty-nine, leaving landed property 
 of sufficient extent to bequeath to each 
 of his sons a plantation, and to make suit- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY."] 
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 
 
 183 
 
 cable provision for his widow and daugh 
 ter. Mrs. Washington, upon whom the 
 care of five children devolved, the eldest 
 of whom at the time of the death of her 
 husband was only eleven years, showed 
 herself equal to her charge, and was re 
 warded for her tender and wise manage 
 ment by a long life, which was graced by 
 the virtues of all her offspring, and ren 
 dered triumphant by the glory of her 
 eldest son. 
 
 The young George was sent to one of 
 the best schools in Virginia, where, how 
 ever, there was little in those days to be 
 acquired beyond the elementary reading, 
 writing, and arithmetic. He was a docile 
 child, and soon learned all that the hum 
 ble learning of his teacher could impart. 
 He was of a kindly, affectionate disposi 
 tion, and, though somewhat hotrtempered, 
 was a great favorite with his schoolfel 
 lows. Strong in constitution, and active 
 and supple in movement, he took the 
 lead in the playground, and few could 
 equal him in wrestling, running, and jump 
 ing. He is said even in his boyhood to 
 have shown a martial taste, and to have 
 frequently got up mimic battles, in which 
 he always bore a prominent part, as the 
 leader of one of the fighting-parties. 
 
 He was remarkable, at a very early 
 age, for his love of system and order. 
 His copy-books were always written and 
 kept with great neatness ; and he seems 
 to have shown, while yet a child, a taste 
 for business. A manuscript book exists, 
 written when he was but thirteen years 
 of age, in which page after page contains 
 copies of bills of exchange, leases, receipts, 
 and land-warrants, all penned with the 
 
 greatest care, and with hardly a scratch 
 or a blot. He was no less systematic, it 
 would appear, in his study of the propri 
 eties of conduct ; for in the same manu 
 script book there is a part devoted to 
 " Rules of Behavior in Company and Con 
 versation." This consists of written max 
 ims of manners and morals. 
 
 Arithmetic was his favorite study, and 
 as he advanced in age he pursued dili 
 gently the elements of the higher math 
 ematics, and became proficient in geome 
 try, trigonometry, and surveying. These 
 latter studies were his chief occupation 
 during his last two years at school, which 
 he quitted just before he reached his six 
 teenth birthday. 
 
 His brother Lawrence, who had served 
 with credit as a British officer in the West 
 Indies, and had won the respect and friend 
 ship of General Wentworth and Admiral 
 Vernon (from whom he called his plan 
 tation "Mount Vernon"), was enabled, 
 through the influence of these distin 
 guished friends, to obtain for George a 
 midshipman s warrant. The lad was all 
 eagerness at this prospect of being a 
 young officer ; but his mother would not 
 consent, and Washington was reserved 
 for another and more glorious destiny. 
 
 The boy, disappointed of his naval but 
 tons, went to live with his brother Law 
 rence at Mount Vernon,, and there passed 
 the winter in the study of mathematics, 
 with the purpose of preparing himself 
 for the profession of a surveyor. Law 
 rence had married the daughter of Wil 
 liam Fairfax, of a noble English family, 
 and high colonial distinction. Fairfax re 
 sided at Belvoir, near Mount Vernon. and 
 
184 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_I J ART 
 
 at this period he had as a guest at his 
 house no less a personage than Lord 
 Fairfax. His lordship, an accomplished 
 Oxford man, and a writer for " The Spec 
 tator," was fond of study, and, becoming 
 naturally a recluse in his habits, had late 
 ly arrived with the intention of living 
 upon one of his Virginian estates. Law 
 rence Washington presented his brother 
 to the Fairfaxes, and an intimacy at once 
 ensued, which in the course of a few 
 months was turned to the profit of the 
 young surveyor. 
 
 Lord Fairfax held a large tract of ter 
 ritory lying among the valleys of the Al- 
 leghany mountains. As the land was 
 wild and not surveyed, settlers were con 
 stantly encroaching upon it. His lord 
 ship was therefore desirous of having his 
 property accurately measured and bound 
 ed. He accordingly chose Washington 
 for the purpose, who readily undertook 
 the enterprise, as it suited both his busi 
 ness and his tastes. The journey through 
 the wilderness was rough and dangerous, 
 but was accomplished spiritedly, and its 
 object satisfactorily gained. Other en 
 gagements ensued, and the youthful sur 
 veyor passed three years busily and prof 
 itably in his profession. 
 
 The threatening troubles with the 
 French and Indians on the frontiers, 
 called out the militia of the province ; 
 and Washington, at the age of nineteen, 
 received his first military appointment. 
 He was made adjutant-general, with the 
 rank of major, and the pay of a hundred 
 and fifty pounds a year. His duty was 
 to discipline the militia of one of the dis 
 tricts into which the province was divided. 
 
 This appointment revived his military 
 tastes, and he devoted himself with great 
 eagerness to his new pursuit. His broth 
 er Lawrence s experience was now of 
 good service, as it enabled him to tutor 
 the young officer in the military art ; and 
 he accordingly gave him daily lessons in 
 the use of the sword, the manual exer 
 cise, and tactics. George at the same 
 time read industriously all the books he 
 could obtain, and mastered pretty thor 
 oughly the theory of war. 
 
 These martial pursuits were now inter 
 rupted by the illness of Lawrence, who 
 was in consequence advised to take a 
 voyage to the West Indies. George ac 
 companied him, and they sailed for Bar- 
 badoes in September, 1751. They had 
 hardly arrived there, when the younger 
 brother was taken sick with the small 
 pox; but, although the disease was se 
 vere, he so soon recovered in that tropi 
 cal climate, that he was able to be out 
 again i-n less than three weeks. Law 
 rence appeared in the meantime so great 
 ly to have improved, that it was agreed 
 that George, now entirely well, should 
 return to Virginia and bring his brother s 
 wife to Bermuda, where Lawrence pro 
 posed to proceed. Lawrence, however, 
 on reaching this island, and finding that 
 he grew weaker, hastened back to Mount 
 Vernon, where he died soon after his 
 arrival. 
 
 Of Washington s subsequent military 
 campaigns against the Indians and the 
 French we have already given a record, 
 and the rest of his military history will 
 be developed in the course of this nar 
 rative. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ARRIVAL OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 185 
 
 Mount Vernon fell to the possession of 
 Washington, by the death of his brother s 
 daughter ; and there, in the intervals of 
 his military career, he lived the life of a 
 southern planter. On the 6th of Janua 
 ry, 1759, he married Mrs. Martha Custis, 
 a widow three months younger than him 
 self, and the mother of a son and daugh 
 ter by her former husband, John Parke 
 Custis. She received one third of this 
 gentleman s property, which consisted of 
 several large estates and forty-five thou 
 sand pounds sterling in money. Wash 
 ington thus became greatly enriched, for 
 those early times, by his marriage. Al 
 though he had won fame in the wars of 
 the province, and still continued, as a 
 member of the house of burgesses in Vir 
 ginia, to bear somewhat the character of 
 a public man, Washington retired, soon 
 after his marriage., to his estate on the 
 banks of the Potomac, with the view of 
 passing the remainder of his days in the 
 privacy and simplicity of a country gen 
 tleman. 
 
 His country now had called him ; and 
 he did not hesitate to give up the ease 
 and happiness of his home for the lead 
 ership of a cause whose trials and dangers 
 were immediate, while its triumphs, how 
 ever certain in the future, were yet too 
 indefinite greatly to tempt the desires of 
 the most ambitious. 
 
 Washington set out from Phila 
 delphia, on the 21st of June, to 
 take command of the troops at Cam 
 bridge, now adopted as the army of the 
 twelve confederated colonies. He was 
 accompanied by Generals Lee and Schuy- 
 ler, and all three started on horseback, 
 24 
 
 1775, 
 
 escorted by a troop of gentlemen of Phil 
 adelphia. The newly-appointed general 
 was received everywhere on the journey 
 with great distinction. Each town an 
 village was on the alert, and welcomed 
 Washington and his cavalcade with ev 
 ery possible exhibition of respect. Dep 
 utations of the principal gentlemen rode 
 out to meet him, and, escorting him to 
 the places whence they came, addressed 
 him in highly-eulogistic terms, expressive 
 of their joy at his appointment. 
 
 Washington, even at this late moment, 
 still hopeful of a reconciliation with the 
 mother-country which he so warmly loved, 
 declared to the committee of the provin 
 cial Congress of New York, who had ad 
 dressed him, that " every exertion of my 
 worthy colleagues and myself will be ex 
 tended to the re-establishment of peace 
 and harmony between the mother-coun 
 try and these colonies." 
 
 It was at New York that the news of 
 the battle of Bunker s hill was first an 
 nounced to Washington, when he anx 
 iously inquired whether the militia had 
 stood their ground against the British 
 regulars. Upon being* told that they had, 
 he answered in these memorable words : 
 " The liberties of the country are safe." 
 He was now more anxious than ever to 
 reach the camp at Cambridge, and sped 
 on with unusual haste. As he entered 
 Massachusetts, he was met by a cavalcade 
 of New-England gentlemen and a com 
 mittee of the provincial Congress, who 
 addressed him in the usual congratulato 
 ry terms, to which the general suitably 
 responded. 
 
 Washington s personal appearance pro- 
 
186 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11 
 
 ducecl an impression,, upon all who now 
 beheld him for the first time, in every 
 respect corresponding to the reputation 
 which preceded him. His figure was tall 
 and commanding, and the sedate dignity 
 of his demeanor secured respect, while 
 his refined courtesy of manners invited 
 approach. His excellent horsemanship, 
 perfected in the chase, of which he was 
 so fond, added much to the popular effect 
 of his manly appearance. He had, more 
 over, the true martial bearing : his ser 
 vice in the provincial campaigns, and as 
 an aid-de-camp under that military mar 
 tinet Braddock, had given him the air of 
 a veteran ; for, young as he was, being 
 little over forty, he always appeared old 
 er than his years. The nice fastidious 
 ness he exhibited in his dress, which was 
 in character with the systematic regulari 
 ty of all his personal habits, served still 
 more to distinguish him in the public 
 eye. All the particularities of military 
 costume were seen to be rigidly observed 
 in his personal adornment, and thus a con 
 temporary describes " his blue coat with 
 buff-colored facings, a rich epaulette on 
 each shoulder, a buff under-dress, an ele 
 gant small-sword, and a black cockade in 
 his hat," The chastened severity of his 
 countenance, and his formal and some 
 what paternal manners, did not even pre 
 vent the softer sex from warming in ad 
 miration of the new general. " I was 
 struck," writes Mrs. Adams to her hus 
 band, " with General Washington. You 
 had prepared me to entertain a favorable 
 opinion of him, but I thought the half 
 was not told me. Dignity, with ease and 
 complacency, the gentleman and soldier, 
 
 look agreeably blended in him. Modes 
 ty marks every line and feature of his 
 face. ..." 
 
 Though "much too old a young man 1 
 to please the Mrs. Mountains of the cav 
 alier times of Virginia, this sedateness of 
 anticipated age was but an additional 
 claim to the admiration of the prim and 
 pious New-England ladies, who, in the 
 calm sobriety of Washington s manners, 
 saw with no disappointment the absence 
 of any proof of "early wild oats," but 
 looked with satisfaction upon the signs 
 of a well-ordered youth, and anticipated 
 with confidence the hopes they gave of 
 a manhood endowed with a strength of 
 virtue equal to its highest and gravest 
 duties. The young southern aids-de-camp 
 the Mifflins and Randolphs doubtless 
 found more favor in the eyes of the Mrs. 
 Mountains of those days, than the rigidly- 
 virtuous Washington. 
 
 On reaching Cambridge, Washington 
 was received by the whole army, 
 drawn up to do honor to the oc 
 casion. The firing of the artillery, and 
 the loud shouts of the patriots, echoed 
 the welcome with which his presence was 
 hailed. Washington was now escorted 
 to the handsome quarters provided for 
 him, where he and his suite, having alight 
 ed and tarried awhile, they returned on 
 foot to the Cambridge common. The 
 general, having stepped forward out of 
 the group of the chief officers who sur 
 rounded him, spoke a few words to the 
 assembled troops, and with drawn sword 
 formally assumed command of the conti 
 nental army. General Greene, of Rhode 
 Island, testified for himself and his officers 
 
 July 3, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.J 
 
 "JXEW LORDS, NEW LAWS." 
 
 187 
 
 in a few well-spoken and dignified words, 
 the satisfaction they should feel in serv 
 ing under Washington as their command 
 er, and that commander had never a more 
 faithful subordinate. 
 
 Washington, with his quick sense of 
 duty, lost no time, but at once set about 
 learning what he had to do and how it 
 was to be done, and doing it. His pres 
 ence was immediately felt everywhere in 
 the camp by the change effected by his 
 orders. " There is a great overturning 
 in the camp as to order and regularity," 
 writes a contemporary. " New lords, new 
 laws. The generals Washington and Lee 
 are upon the lines every day. New or 
 ders from his excellency are read to the 
 respective regiments every morning after 
 prayers. The strictest government is ta 
 king place, and great distinction is made 
 between officers and soldiers. Every one 
 is made to know his place, and keep in 
 it, or be tied up and receive thirty or for 
 ty lashes, according to his crime. Thou 
 sands are at work every day from four 
 till eleven o clock in the morning. It is 
 surprising how much work has been done. 
 The lines are extended almost from Cam 
 bridge to Mystic river, so that very soon 
 it will be morally impossible for the ene 
 my to get between the works, except in 
 one place, which is supposed to be left 
 purposely unfortified, to entice the ene 
 my out of their fortresses. Who would 
 have thought, twelve months past, that 
 all Cambridge and Chaiiestown would be 
 covered over with American camps, and 
 cut up into forts and intrenchments, and 
 all the lands, fields, orchards, laid com 
 mon horses and cattle feed ins: in the 
 
 choicest mowing-land, whole fields of corn 
 eaten down to the ground, and large parks 
 of well-regulated locusts cut down for fire 
 wood and other public uses ? This, I must 
 say, looks a little melancholy. My quar 
 ters are at the foot of the famous Pros 
 pect hill, where such great preparations 
 are made for the reception of the ene 
 my. . . . 
 
 "It is very diverting to walk among 
 the camps. They are as different in form 
 as the owners are in their dress ; and ev 
 ery tent is a portraiture of the temper 
 and taste of the persons who encamp in 
 it. Some are made of boards, and some 
 of sail-cloth ; some partly of one and part 
 ly of the other. Again, others are made 
 of stone and turf, brick or bush. Some 
 are thrown up in a hurry; others curi 
 ously wrought with doors and windows, 
 done with wreaths and withes, in the 
 manner of a basket. Some are your 
 proper tents and marquees, looking like 
 the regular camp of the enemy. In these 
 are the Rhode-Islanders, who are fur 
 nished with teni>equipages, and every 
 thing in the most exact English style. 
 However, I think this great variety is 
 rather a beauty than a blemish in the 
 army."* 
 
 Soon after his arrival at Cambridge, 
 Washington summoned the major and 
 brigadier generals to a council of war. 
 The military appointments by the gen 
 eral Congress, it will be recollected, were, 
 in addition to Washington as command er- 
 in-chief, four major-generals, in the rank 
 and order named, viz. : 1. Artemas Ward. 
 
 * Letter of Reverend William Emerson, quoted by Sparks 
 in his Life of Washington. 
 
188 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 2. Charles Lee. 3. Philip Schuyler. 4. Is 
 rael Putnam; and eight brigadier-gener 
 als, viz. : 1. Seth Pomeroy. 2. Richard 
 Montgomery. 3. David Wooster. 4. Wil 
 liam Heath. 5. Joseph Spencer. 6. John 
 Thomas. 7. John Sullivan. 8. Nathan 
 iel Greene. The precedence which this 
 established was not altogether satisfacto 
 ry. Spencer grumbled at the advance 
 ment of General Putnam over his head ; 
 and Thomas was dissatisfied with the su 
 perior rank given to Pomeroy. General 
 Spencer, in fact, took what he considered 
 his relative degradation in such high dud 
 geon as to leave the army, without hav 
 ing paid his respects to Washington ; but 
 he was induced to return, on being pro 
 moted to the first rank after Putnam. 
 Pomeroy s resignation gave Thomas a 
 chance of advancement, and the urgent 
 advice of his friends induced him to re 
 main and take the benefit of it. These 
 were some of the minor difficulties which 
 thronged in upon Washington, and em 
 barrassed his action. He continued, how 
 ever, in the calm and resolute perform 
 ance of his duty, and went systematically 
 about the organization into an army of 
 the miscellaneous crowd of patriots un 
 der his command. 
 
 At the council of war, an inquiry was 
 instituted in regard to the numbers and 
 condition of the two armies. Eleven thou 
 sand five hundred regulars were given as 
 the estimate of the British force ; while 
 the Americans had seventeen thousand 
 men enrolled,of whom only fourteen thou 
 sand five hundred were considered capa 
 ble of duty. The patriotforce was deemed 
 inadequate, and it was resolved to make 
 
 an effort to increase it to twenty-two 
 thousand. 
 
 The position of the two opposing camps 
 at this time is best described in a letter 
 written by Washington himself: "I found 
 the British," he says, strongly ^ 
 
 intrenching on Bunker s hill, 
 about a mile from Charlestown, and ad 
 vanced about half a mile from the place 
 of the late action, with their sentries ex 
 tended about one hundred and fifty yards 
 on this side of the narrowest part of the 
 Neck, leading from this place [Cam 
 bridge] to Charlestown. Three floating 
 batteries lie in Mystic river, near their 
 camp, and one twenty-gun ship below the 
 ferry-place, between Boston and Charles- 
 town. They have also a battery on Copp s 
 hill, on the Boston side, which much an 
 noyed our troops in the late attack. Up 
 on Roxbury neck they are also deeply 
 intrenched and strongly fortified. Their 
 advance-guards, till last Saturday, occu 
 pied Brown s houses, about a mile from 
 Roxbury meetinghouse, and twenty rods 
 from their lines ; but, at that time, a par 
 ty from General Thomas s camp surprised 
 the guard, drove them in, and burned the 
 houses. The bulk of their army, com 
 manded by General Howe, lies on Bun 
 ker s hill, and the remainder on Roxbury 
 neck, except the light-horse, and a few 
 men in the town of Boston. 
 
 " On our side we have thrown up in- 
 trenchments on Winter and Prospect hills 
 the enemy s camp in full view, at the 
 distance of little more than a mile. Such 
 intermediate points as would admit a 
 landing, I have, since my arrival, taken 
 care to strengthen, down to Sewall s farm, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 WANTS OF THE PATRIOTS. 
 
 189 
 
 where a strong intrenchment has been 
 thrown up. At Roxbury, Thomas has 
 thrown up a strong work on the hill, about 
 two hundred yards above the meeting 
 house ; which, with the brokenness of the 
 ground, and a great number of rocks, has 
 made that pass very secure. The troops 
 raised in New Hampshire, with a regiment 
 from Rhode Island, occupy Winter hill ; 
 a part of those of Connecticut, under Gen 
 eral Putnam, are on Prospect hill. The 
 troops in this town (Cambridge) are en 
 tirely of the Massachusetts ; the remain 
 der of the Rhode-Island men are at Sew- 
 all s farm. Two regiments of Connecti 
 cut, and nine of the Massachusetts, are 
 at Roxbury. The residue of the army, 
 to the number of about seven hundred, 
 are posted in several small towns along 
 the coast, to prevent the depredations of 
 the enemy." 
 
 Washington arranged the army in 
 three great divisions. The centre, at 
 Cambridge, was under the command of 
 Major-General Putnam; the right, at Rox 
 bury, under Major-General Ward ; and 
 the left under Major-General Lee, part 
 of which was at Prospect hill, and the 
 rest at Winter hill. The country, once 
 so beautiful at this season (July), was now 
 sadly changed. The landscape described 
 as so charming with its hills and valleys, 
 rocks and woods, interspersed with strag 
 gling villages, with here and there a spire 
 peeping over the trees, and with every 
 where fields of the most charming green 
 that delighted eyes ever gazed on, pre 
 sented now a universal scene of prepara 
 tion for war. The wide-spread camp cov 
 ered a surface of several miles in extent ; 
 
 farmhouses were turned into barracks, 
 and pastures into parade-grounds ; and 
 the quiet of the country was disturbed 
 by the daily beatings to arms of the as 
 sembled troops. 
 
 Washington found a disorderly crowd 
 of followers, whom it required all his gen 
 eralship to drill into the shape of soldiers ; 
 " a mixed multitude of people," he said, 
 " who are under very little discipline, or 
 der, or government." Disrespect to offi 
 cers and unsoldierlike conduct were the 
 chief vices of his irregular forces ; and 
 Washington did his best, by means of 
 fines, the pillory, the wooden horse, whip 
 ping, and drumming out of camp, to in 
 culcate among his independent militia 
 lessons of respect and subordination. The 
 chiefs military eye was greatly offended 
 at the ragged and miscellaneously-assort 
 ed dresses of his men. One of his first 
 efforts was to get a supply of ten thou 
 sand hunting-shirts, to clothe the naked 
 ness and to give some uniformity of ap 
 pearance to the troops. 
 
 There was a meagerness of supply, in 
 another respect, more serious than any 
 scantiness of clothing. The American 
 army was short of powder. Washington 
 found his " situation in the article of pow 
 der much more alarming than he had the 
 most distant idea of." "We reckoned 
 upon three hundred quarter-casks," wrote 
 his secretary, Reed, " and had but thirty- 
 two barrels." The scarcity, in fact, had 
 become so great, that an order was issued, 
 forbidding any one to waste it in shoot 
 ing birds, or in any kind of sport. This 
 deficiency became very alarming, as the 
 enemy seemed to threaten an attack, and 
 
190 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11 
 
 were daily keeping up a brisk cannonade 
 at the American lines, though fortunate 
 ly with but little effect, except when the 
 imprudence of the raw militia exposed 
 them to danger. "Two were killed," 
 writes Reed, " at the lines last week, by 
 running after cannon-shot. We scarcely 
 lie down or rise up, but with the expec 
 tation that the night or the day must 
 produce some important event." The 
 want of ammunition was not only alarm- 
 ing,but exceedingly vexatious,as it forced 
 Washing-ton to " bear with the rascals on 
 
 o 
 
 Bunker s hill, when a few shot, now and 
 then, in return, would keep the men at 
 tentive to their business, and give the 
 enemy alarms." 
 
 Nor were these the only wants which 
 Washington required to be supplied. He 
 was in need of money, being much em 
 barrassed, as he wrote to the president 
 of Congress, for want of a military chest. 
 He also solicited the appointment of a 
 commissary-general,a quartermaster-gen 
 eral, a commissary of musters, and a com 
 missary of artillery. With all these dis 
 advantages of want of discipline, want of 
 ammunition, and want of the means of 
 organization, the American troops were 
 not distrustful of their powers to cope 
 with the enemy, and, in frequent skir 
 mishes with the British, showed no lack 
 of spirit, but often " played the man and 
 beat them." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Rumors of a Sortie of the British from Boston. Gage discouraged. The III Condition of the British Force. The Suf 
 ferings of the Patriots at Boston. Forced Gaycty of the Tories. The American Prisoners. 111 Treatment. Sharp 
 Correspondence hetween Washington and Gage. Long Inaction. A Bombardment. Arrival of Ammunition. Ex 
 pedition to Canada determined upon. 
 
 1775, 
 
 RUMORS now began to circulate 
 
 in the American camp, of an in 
 tended sally of the British from Boston. 
 Gage, however, was not much in the hu 
 mor for active operations against the be 
 siegers. Although reinforced by some 
 troops originally intended for New York, 
 he began to think, and so wrote to 
 the government at home, that his 
 position was the most disadvantageous 
 possible for action. He now felt himself 
 to be on the defensive, and talked of what 
 he would do in case " the rebels presumed \ 
 
 July, 
 
 to make an attack." The troops suffered 
 severely from their fatiguing duties, being 
 kept constantly on the alert by the " au 
 dacity" of the provincials, who were con 
 tinually advancing near to the British 
 lines ever since the " arrival of Generals 
 Washington and Lee to command them." 
 The men, unaccustomed to an American 
 climate, suffered greatly from the heat, 
 to which they were much exposed in 
 their encampments. Their food, too, was 
 so scanty, that even the sick and wounded 
 had often nothing to eat but " salt pork 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 SUFFERINGS OF THE ENEMY. 
 
 191 
 
 and fish." Strong drink, however, they 
 had in abundance, from which it was im 
 possible to keep the soldiers, for a six 
 pence would buy a quart of West-India 
 and fourpence the same quantity of New- 
 England rum. With the excessive thirst 
 engendered by the heat of the summer 
 sun, and by their hard work, the men 
 freely indulged in the liquor which was 
 so cheaply obtained, and destroyed their 
 vigor and health. Fevers and dysentery 
 prevailed in the camp, attributed to " the 
 fatigue of duty, bad accommodation, and 
 the use of too much spirits." An occa 
 sional supply of fresh provisions would 
 be obtained by a lucky capture, by the 
 British men-of-war, of some stray coaster, 
 when the bells of Boston were rung, as 
 if in honor of a triumph, so greatly over 
 joyed were the half-starved soldiers at 
 the prospect of a mess of fresh beef or 
 mutton : 
 
 " Britons, with grief your bosoms strike ; 
 
 Your faded laurels loudly weep ; 
 Behold your heroes, Quixote-like, 
 Driving a timid flock of sheep !" 
 
 Thus, with less heart than truth, sneered 
 a whiff, ffish waff of London, on the an- 
 
 OO O 
 
 nouncement that General Gage had suc 
 ceeded in capturing " eighteen hundred 
 sheep and above some one hundred head 
 of oxen, which will be some relief to the 
 troops in general, and of great benefit to 
 the hospitals." 
 
 The few patriots left in Boston were 
 subjected to all kinds of annoyances and 
 injury. Now one was clapped into the 
 guardhouse, for seditious conversation ; 
 again, another was thrown into prison on 
 suspicion of being a spy, and signalling 
 
 the enemy from the church-steeple ; and 
 all were daily exposed to insult from the 
 soldiers and wrong from the authorities. 
 It was not until food became scarce, that 
 Gage would allow the patriots to leave 
 the city, and thus escape his persecutions. 
 Even then they were not permitted to 
 carry away with them their valuables or 
 any money, beyond a few pounds each. 
 Many, however, succeeded in eluding the 
 vigilance of the guards ; and women were 
 known to have carried out their silver 
 spoons, sewed in the lining of their petr 
 ticoats. 
 
 The tory citizens suffered, in common 
 with all, from the scant supply of the 
 luxuries and even the necessities of life, 
 but kept up their hearts with the confi 
 dent hope that a better time was soon 
 corning, and, as one wrote, that " Boston 
 will be this winter the emporium of Amer 
 ica for plenty and pleasure." These loy 
 al folks rather pitied the patriots, and in 
 their letters to those of their friends en 
 gaged in the American cause, " heartily 
 wished" they were as safe as they them 
 selves were. They kept up a forced gay- 
 ety within the besieged town, by an oc 
 casional concert and farce, at the play 
 house in Faneuil hall, during the week ; 
 and managed on Sundays to form a " gen 
 teel audience" to listen to the " excellent 
 discourse" of the tory parson, who had 
 " received a call to the elegant new 
 church" vacated by the flight of its pa 
 triotic rector. 
 
 There were certain sufferers within the 
 besieged city, whose position awakened 
 especially the sympathy of the patriots : 
 these were the prisoners who had been 
 
192 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 taken at Bunker s hill. Washington, hav 
 ing learned that they were treated with 
 severity, and that, no distinction being 
 made between officers and soldiers, both 
 were thrown into a common jail, deter 
 mined to write to the British general, 
 and demand redress. His letter was calm 
 and dignified. 
 
 The British general sent an answer, 
 which was unnecessarily irritating and 
 impolitic. Gage must have recalled the 
 old times when he and Washington were 
 comrades in Braddock s campaign ; and, 
 although the lapse of twenty years had 
 brought the great change which placed 
 them in antagonism as enemies, nothing 
 had ever occurred to ruffle the relations 
 which the two bore to each other as gen 
 tlemen. Gage might therefore have for 
 borne the use of those expressions of con 
 tumely in which he indulged. 
 
 Washington rejoined in severe but well- 
 merited terms, and, true to his word, treat 
 ed his British prisoners as Gage had treat 
 ed the Americans. He ordered those who 
 had enjoyed comparative liberty at Wa- 
 tertown and Cape Ann, to be thrust into 
 jail at Northampton. His humanity, how 
 ever, soon revolted at this severity, and 
 in a few days he countermanded those 
 orders. The correspondence with Gage 
 here closed for ever, as Washington had 
 thought probable. 
 
 It was now two months since the arri 
 val of Washington ; and, although he had 
 been active in strengthening his defences 
 and in organizing the army with such 
 a success, that he flattered himself that 
 in a little time he should work up the 
 " raw materials into a ocood manufacture" 
 
 yet little had been done in the way 
 of active hostility. The British were so 
 hemmed in, and so depressed, that they 
 showed even less than the Americans any 
 disposition toward beginning an attack. 
 A battery, however, which in the course 
 
 of a night had risen under the 
 
 i f +u A Aug. 26, 
 
 busy hands 01 a thousand patri 
 ots, on the top of Ploughed hill, excited 
 the enemy to action, and they began a 
 brisk cannonade from Bunker s hill upon 
 the new American works. At one time 
 the British were seen to move, and it was 
 thought that they were preparing for an 
 attack. Washington, accordingly, with 
 hopes of an engagement, sent down five 
 thousand men on the Charlestown road 
 to meet the enemy, and be prepared to 
 give battle. The British, however, did 
 not come out; and, as a contemporary 
 chronicler records, " the most awful si 
 lence was observed on both sides." The 
 next day the bombardment was resumed, 
 which the Americans, careful of their am 
 munition, did not return, except by firing 
 a single pounde^ with which they suc 
 ceeded in sinking a floating battery. 
 
 The American camp was greatly en 
 couraged by the timely arrival of a sup 
 ply of ammunition from Rhode Island. 
 It was said to have been got from the 
 various British posts on the coast of Af 
 rica, by means of the New-England coast 
 ers, which went laden with native rum, 
 and brought back a " fiery commodity of 
 a different quality." So successful was 
 this venture, that every garrison visited 
 on the African coast was supposed to have 
 given up its last ounce of powder, in ex 
 change for the highly-marketable Yankee 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ARNOLD ASTIR. 
 
 193 
 
 liquor. The British, however, still kept 
 within Boston, and would give Washing 
 ton no opportunity to use with effect his 
 fresh supply of ammunition. But while 
 
 thus condemned to a forced inactivity at Canada. 
 
 Sept, 12, 
 
 Cambridge, he found an occasion 
 
 for the employment of a portion 
 
 of his troops in active service. He had 
 
 resolved upon sending an expedition to 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Allen and Arnold disputing for the Command at Ticonderoga. Arnold called to Account by the Massachusetts Legisla 
 ture. Throws up his Commission in High Dudgeon. Returns to Cambridge. Is pacified by the Prospect of a Com 
 mand in the Expedition to Canada. Appointed to co-operate with Schuyler. Daniel Morgan and his Rifle-Corps. 
 Arnold sets out for Canada. Schuyler sets out also. Illness of Schuyler. Montgomery succeeds to the Command. 
 - -His Life and Character. Siege of St. Johns. Allen succeeded in Command of the Green-Mountain Boys by Seth 
 Warner. Allen goes on an Expedition on his own Account. Is defeated and taken Prisoner. Sir Guy Carleton de 
 feated. St. Johns surrendered. 
 
 WITH the successes of Ethan Al 
 len and Benedict Arnold at Ticon- 
 deroga and Crown Point, there began a 
 strife between these adventurous leaders 
 for the command of the forts, which was, 
 as has been already related, temporarily 
 decided by the Connecticut committee, 
 which had accompanied the expedition, 
 in favor of Allen. He therefore remained 
 with his " Green-mountain boys," as com 
 mandant of Ticonderoga and its depen 
 dencies. Arnold was forced to yield, but 
 did it with an ill grace, while still declar 
 ing that his rights had been usurped. 
 " Colonel Allen," he wrote, in a statement 
 of his grievances sent to the Massachu 
 setts committee of safety, " is a proper 
 man to head his own wild people, but en 
 tirely unacquainted with military affairs ; 
 and, as I am the only person w r ho has 
 been legally authorized to take posses 
 sion of this place, I am determined to in 
 sist upon iny right." Allen and his friends 
 25 
 
 of course had their own views upon the 
 subject, and took care to make them 
 known to the authorities. 
 
 In the meantime, the restless Arnold 
 found w r ork for his busy activities. Hav 
 ing armed the sloop, schooner, and the 
 batteaux he had captured at Skenesbor- 
 ough and St. Johns, he appointed his cap 
 tains, and hoisted his flag as the self-con 
 stituted admiral of this Lilliputian squad 
 ron. Crown Point was his naval station ; 
 and when he heard rumors of the ap 
 proach of a British force of four hundred 
 from Montreal, he valiantly resolved with 
 his armed vessels and his hundred and 
 fifty men to defend his post, and remain 
 master of the waters of Lake Champlain, 
 upon which his adventurous flag floated 
 so defiantly. 
 
 Arnold was enabled to gather valuable 
 information of the proceedings of the Brit 
 ish in Canada. He had, during former 
 trading-enterprises, made acquaintances 
 
194 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 in both Montreal and Quebec, with whom 
 he now, by means of a trusty messenger, 
 held confidential communication. The 
 result Arnold reported to the continental 
 Congress. In his statement he said that 
 there were certain persons in Montreal 
 who had agreed to open the gates to an 
 American force ; and that General Guy 
 Carleton,the Canadian governor, had only 
 five hundred and fifty effective men, scat 
 tered at different posts, to oppose an at 
 tack. He, moreover, expressed his belief 
 that a successful expedition against all 
 Canada could be undertaken with two 
 thousand men ; and, offering to lead it, 
 pledged himself for its success. 
 
 Arnold was waiting impatiently at 
 Crown Point for an answer to his propo 
 sition laid before the Congress, when he 
 was disagreeably surprised and his ardent 
 hopes dashed by the arrival of a " com 
 mittee of three" from the Massachusetts 
 legislature, empowered to make certain 
 inquiries in regard to his " spirit, capaci 
 ty, and conduct." The impetuous Arnold 
 could not brook any interference, and he 
 was greatly indignant when the commitr 
 tee laid their instructions before him. 
 There were no charges specified ; and, 
 without them, he declared, and with seem 
 ing justice, that an inquiry into his " con 
 duct" was against all law and precedent. 
 As for the investigation into his " capa 
 city and spirit," this he in a great rage 
 denounced as an insult. As for the ac 
 count of expenses which was required of 
 him, all he had to say w r as, that he had 
 already paid a hundred pounds out of his 
 own pocket, and had incurred debts in 
 behalf of his forces which must be paid, 
 
 or he himself would be personally dishon 
 ored. Connecticut, to which province 
 Massachusetts had left the decision of the 
 question between Arnold and Allen, had 
 settled it by the appointment of Colonel 
 Hinman as commandant of the forts on 
 Lake Champlain. This so enraged Ar 
 nold, that he swore he never would sub 
 mit to the degradation of being super 
 seded by a junior officer. Full of wrath 
 and disappointment, he resolved upon 
 throwing up his commission, and wrote 
 a letter of resignation. His men were 
 discharged by Arnold, and, as they were 
 unpaid, they became as unruly and resist 
 ant as their discontented leader. They 
 were, however, soon pacified by the lib. 
 eral promises of the committee, and most 
 of the soldiers were induced to re-enlist. 
 Arnold himself hurried back to the army 
 at Cambridge, where he continued vio 
 lent in his complaints of wrong, and rest 
 lessly discontented, until Washington 
 conscious of the daring and capacity of 
 the man found in the proposed expedi 
 tion against Canada a suitable scope for 
 the exercise of that turbulent spirit which 
 seemed only calm in difficulty and dan 
 ger. 
 
 Congress was naturally distrustful of 
 the propositions which it had received 
 from such men as Allen and Arnold. 
 When the former was writing in such a 
 " Bombastes" vein of what he could and 
 would do ; and when the plans of the lat- 
 ter, however rational they might seem, 
 came from one whose conduct was a sub 
 ject at least of question, it was right that 
 no hasty act of legislative concurrence 
 should commit the Congress to plans com- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE EXPEDITION TO CANADA. 
 
 195 
 
 ing from such apparently doubtful sources. 
 Both Arnold s and Allen s letters were 
 characteristic of the men. Those of the 
 former were arrogant and self-seeking, 
 and those of the latter exaggerated and 
 incoherent. Allen writes to the provin 
 cial Congress of New York: 
 
 " I wish to God America would, at this 
 critical juncture, exert herself agreeably 
 to the indignity offered her by a tyran 
 nical 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 conti 
 nent must now sink to slavery, poverty, 
 horror, and bondage, or rise to unconquer 
 able freedom, immense wealth, inexpres 
 sible felicity, and immortal fame. 
 
 " I will lay my life on it, that, with fif 
 teen hundred men and a proper train of 
 artilleiy. 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." 
 
 Arnold, after stating the plan he pro 
 posed, which we have alreadv mentioned, 
 writes to the continental Congress at Phil 
 adelphia: 
 
 " I beg leave to add 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, 
 to carry it into execution without loss of 
 time 
 
 "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 Ar 
 nold s regiment,including the seamen and 
 marines on board the vessels (no Green- 
 mountain boys)." 
 
 The " no G-reen-mountain boys" in the pa 
 renthesis, was a vindictive thrust at Allen, 
 whom Arnold hated as a rival, and feared, 
 from his adventurous spirit and his pop 
 ularity among the wild settlers of the 
 "New-Hampshire grants," as a competi 
 tor in his own line of daring enterprise. 
 The services of both Allen and Arnold, 
 however, were too valuable to be disre 
 garded ; and both, as we shall see, were 
 to be again availed of. 
 
 Schuyler, of New York, who had been 
 appointed one of the major-generals of 
 the army, was, after some hesitation and 
 delay, directed by the continental Con 
 gress to attempt, by the way of 
 the forts on Lake Cham plain, an 
 invasion of Canada. The time was now 
 supposed to be favorable, as the governor, 
 Guy Carleton, was strengthening the Ca 
 nadian fortifications, and awaiting rein 
 forcements, to retake Ticonderoga and 
 Crown Point. It was believed that the 
 French-Canadians, averse to British do 
 minion, were ready to w r elcome any pros 
 pect of deliverance from their English 
 masters, and that they would be ready to 
 enroll themselves under the banner of 
 the first continental force that should pre 
 sent itself. Schuyler was accordingly 
 urged to advance as rapidly as possible 
 into Canada, that he might avail himself 
 of the present favorable disposition of the 
 people, and anticipate the preparations 
 
 June 17. 
 
196 
 
 for defence which had been made by the 
 British authorities. 
 
 Washington saw Arnold often at head 
 quarters, and was so struck with the un 
 daunted spirit of the man, and his evident 
 familiarity with the ground and position 
 of affairs in Canada, that he did not hesi 
 tate to confide to him the command of 
 the force he had resolved upon sending, 
 to co-operate with Schuyler. Eleven hun 
 dred men were detached for this service. 
 They were for the most part picked New- 
 England troops, to which were added 
 three companies of riflemen from Penn 
 sylvania and Virginia. At the head of 
 this rifle-corps was Captain DANIEL MOR 
 GAN, who, on his arrival in the camp with 
 his band of sharpshooters a few weeks 
 before, had greatly excited the curiosity 
 of the whole army. Morgan himself was 
 a remarkable man in appearance, with 
 his great, stalwart frame ; and his follow 
 ers were no less conspicuous for their 
 size and strength. Many of them were 
 gaunt Irishmen, and their leathern hunts 
 men s dress added to their wildness of 
 aspect. Each wore upon his breast the 
 motto "Liberty or death!" and, what 
 with their fierce look and unrestrained 
 manners, Daniel Morgan and his men 
 were regarded by the prim New-England- 
 ers very much as if they were so many 
 savages. The camp was not averse to 
 their departure, as, apart from their some 
 what rude bearing, the fact of so many 
 of them being Irishmen was no recom 
 mendation in those early days to popular 
 favor. 
 
 Arnold, having been appointed colonel 
 by Washington, set out, on the 13th of 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 1775, 
 
 September, with his eleven hun 
 dred men, for Canada. The expe 
 dition was one full of danger and diffi 
 culty, and was thus peculiarly attractive 
 to its bold and adventurous leader, as it 
 was to other youthful and ardent spirits, 
 who fretted impatiently against the inac 
 tivity of the camp at Cambridge. Aaron 
 Burr, then only twenty years of age, was 
 at that time serving in a New r -Jersey regi 
 ment, but, when he heard of Arnold s ex 
 pedition, offered himself as a volunteer, 
 and was accepted, much to the satisfac 
 tion of his martial longings. The chief 
 officers under Arnold as the colonel, were 
 LieutenantrColonel Christopher Greene, 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Roger Enos, and Ma 
 jors Bigelow and Meigs. 
 
 The route to be taken by the expedi 
 tion was by the Kennebec river, through 
 a wilderness, to Canada, and was known 
 only through the reports of some rare 
 traveller or the vague accounts of the 
 Indians. Two explorers were sent in 
 advance, to make their way secretly to 
 Quebec, and to return to Arnold on his 
 march with what information they could 
 obtain. Washington had made every 
 possible provision for the success of the 
 enterprise. Transports were provided at 
 Newburyport, and carpenters sent from 
 Cambridge to construct two hundred bat- 
 teaux on the banks of the Kennebec for 
 the conveyance of the troops up that riv 
 er. Arnold marched to Newburyport, 
 and thence, after taking care to send out 
 several small boats, to look if the coast 
 was clear of British cruisers, embarked 
 his force in the eleven vessels which had 
 been provided, and sailed on the 19th of 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 EICHARD MONTGOMERY. 
 
 197 
 
 September for the mouth of the Kenne- 
 bec river. 
 
 General Schuyler had in the mean 
 while, in accordance with the orders of 
 Congress, left New York for the north, 
 reaching Ticonderoga on the 18th of Ju 
 ly, where he was long delayed in fortify 
 ing that post. Having placed the fort 
 under the command of General Richard 
 Montgomery, Schuyler returned to Alba 
 ny, to meet with the chiefs of the Caugh- 
 nawagas and of the Six Nations, assem 
 bled to confer with him, with the view 
 of a treaty. While here, he received a 
 despatch from Washington at Cambridge, 
 informing him of the project he had de 
 vised of sending a detachment of his 
 troops to Canada, This intelligence was 
 joyfully received by Schuyler, as it fell 
 in very opportunely with the expedition 
 which he himself had just resolved in 
 consequence of some information he had 
 received of the position of affairs in Can 
 ada to send against that province. He 
 answered Washington s despatch, with a 
 very hopeful expression of the probable 
 success of the proposed enterprises, and 
 immediately prepared to perform his 
 share of the undertaking. 
 
 From Albany Schuyler pushed on to 
 Ticonderoga, but, on arriving there, found 
 Montgomery had gone, leaving w r ord for 
 his superior to follow him at once in a 
 whale-boat. Montgomery had heard of 
 a proposed movement of Sir Guy Carle- 
 ton, by which that British officer intend 
 ed, with a fleet of armed vessels, w T hich 
 were nearly ready, to sail from St. Johns 
 through the Sorel river into Lake Cham- 
 plain. To anticipate this manoeuvre, Mont- 
 
 Aug. 30. 
 
 gomery embarked in haste with a thou 
 sand men and two fieldpieces, and sailed 
 from Ticonderoga to the Isle aux Noix, 
 with the view of taking possession and 
 fortifying that island, at the entrance of 
 the Sorel river, and thus preventing the 
 approach of the enemy. 
 
 Schuyler, on his arrival at Ticondero 
 ga in the night, was so ill with 
 fever, that he was unable to fol 
 low Montgomery until the next morning, 
 and then by the slow conveyance of a 
 batteau instead of a whale-boat, as he was 
 too weak to proceed except on a bed, 
 which could only be spread in the larger 
 craft. It was several days before he over 
 took Montgomery ; and then, assuming 
 the command, the force proceeded to the 
 Isle aux Noix, which they reached on the 
 4th of September. Trusting to the re 
 port of very formidable preparations by 
 the enemy, Schuyler, after sailing down 
 the Sorel to within a mile and a half of 
 St. Johns, and receiving a few shots from 
 the garrison, determined to return to the 
 Isle aux Noix. Upon reaching this place, 
 Schuyler yielded up the command to 
 Montgomery, and returned himself to Ti 
 conderoga, to recruit his broken health, 
 and do what he could in furthering the 
 objects of the expedition, by forwarding 
 men and supplies. 
 
 RICHARD MONTGOMERY was perhaps as 
 ardent and hasty as Schuyler was cool 
 and cautious. Quick blood was charac 
 teristic of the Irish descent of the former, 
 and torpid phlegm was not unnatural in 
 one of Dutch origin. Montgomery, al 
 though born in Ireland, came early to 
 America, as a young subaltern in a Brit 
 
198 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 ish regiment., but won a commission as 
 lieutenant by his bravery at Louisburg. 
 Subsequently serving with Amherst, he 
 was promoted to a captaincy ; and at the 
 close of the French War, he retired to 
 Eno-land. His visit to America, however, 
 
 O 
 
 had attached him to the land and its peo 
 ple. He accordingly sold his commission, 
 and, purchasing an estate on the banks 
 of the Hudson, retired there with a wife 
 whom he had married in New York : here 
 he desired to live a quiet life, in domes 
 tic happiness and the peaceful pursuit of 
 husbandry. His repose, however, lasted 
 but three years. The disturbances with 
 the mother-country having broken out, 
 he joined the popular cause, and was, 
 from his earnest attachment to the prin 
 ciples of liberty, and his military experi 
 ence, elected by the continental Con 
 gress second in rank of the brigadier- 
 generals. He was still a young man, not 
 having reached his fortieth year, but had 
 the reputation of prudence in counsel, al 
 though known to be impetuous in spirit. 
 His personal appearance was all in his 
 favor, having a frank, handsome face, and 
 a well-proportioned, manly figure. He 
 was a great favorite with his men, and in 
 action they did not hesitate to follow wil 
 lingly wherever their gallant commander 
 led them. 
 
 Montgomery, now in command, was 
 eager to be at work : so he prepared at 
 once to invest St. Johns. He first sent 
 forward a force of five hundred men, to 
 command the junction of the two roads 
 which lead to Chambly and Montreal, and 
 thus cut off supplies and reinforcements 
 from that direction. Montgomery then, 
 
 having thrown across the entrance to So- 
 rel river a quantity of trees and brush 
 wood, to stop the progress of the enemy s 
 vessels into the lake, advanced his forces 
 and artillery to within a short distance 
 of St. Johns. Here, while exposed to a 
 brisk fire, he commenced his operations 
 for a siege, constructing batteries and 
 other covers for his attack. His means, 
 however, proved miserably scanty. His 
 artillery was deficient in guns, and not 
 of sufficient weight ; his ammunition was 
 small in quantity, and his men were not 
 sufficiently skilled in the management ot 
 the cannon. The ground, too, on which 
 he had taken his position was swampy, 
 and so crowded with trees and under 
 growth as to interfere greatly with the 
 works. To add still more to his misfor 
 tunes, disease broke out among the troops, 
 who, finally losing spirit, began to grow 
 disaffected. Montgomery now proposed 
 to change his position to a spot at the 
 northwest, where some heights would 
 give him more suitable ground, and a bet 
 ter chance at the enemy. This plan, after 
 some opposition on the part of the men 
 and officers, was finally adopted ; and the 
 troops shifted their position, and began 
 to throw up anew some works on the 
 fresh place selected. 
 
 While Montgomery was at the Isle aux 
 Noix, Ethan Allen and Major Brown had 
 been sent with a few men on a 
 secret enterprise into Canada, to 
 endeavor to obtain recruits among the 
 inhabitants of that province, who were 
 reported to be favorably disposed toward 
 the patriot cause. Allen had been obliged 
 to yield the command of his beloved 
 
 Sept, 5, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ETHAN ALLEN IN CANADA. 
 
 199 
 
 " Green-mountain boys" to Seth Warner. 
 In his own account of his loss he said : 
 " 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 com 
 mittee meeting, and. in their nomination 
 of officers for the regiment of Green- 
 mountain boys, have wholly omitted me. 
 I find myself in the favor of the officers 
 of the army and the young Green-mount 
 ain boys. How the old men came to re 
 ject me I can not conceive, inasmuch as 
 I saved them from the encroachments of 
 New York." "The old men," says Ir 
 ving, who quotes this letter, " probably 
 doubted his discretion." 
 
 Allen, thus deprived of his command, 
 was so desirous of having a share in the 
 expected glories of the northern expedi 
 tion, that he solicited employment from 
 Schuyler, and was accordingly attached 
 to the army. That so harum-scarum a 
 character should be intrusted with the 
 delicate service upon which he was now 
 engaged, seems very remarkable ; but his 
 success was still more astounding, if we 
 can take his own word : 
 
 " I am now," Allen writes to Montgom 
 ery, "at the parish of St. Ours, four leagues 
 from Sorel, to the south. I have two hun 
 dred and fifty Canadians under arms. As 
 I march, they gather fast. You may re 
 ly 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 num 
 ber, 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 pro 
 vided 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." 
 
 Brown and Allen, who had separated 
 in the course of their recruiting-duties 
 in Canada, now met between Longueuil 
 and La Prairie. Brown, declaring that 
 the garrison at Montreal was composed 
 only of some thirty men, suggested that 
 the occasion was favorable for an attack 
 upon that city. Allen s adventurous spir 
 it was up in a moment, and he eagerly 
 seized the opportunity of distinguishing 
 himself. It was then agreed between the 
 two, that the enterprise should be under 
 taken by them jointly; and it was ar 
 ranged that Allen should return with his 
 force to Longueuil, and cross the St. Law 
 rence to the opposite bank a little below 
 Montreal, while Brown should proceed 
 farther up the river with his two hundred 
 men and land above the city. The two 
 forces were then to march from their sev 
 eral positions, and attack Montreal simul 
 taneously from two opposite points. 
 
 The two men separated, and Allen led 
 his eighty Canadians and thirty Ameri 
 cans for this was the whole extent of 
 his force, notwithstanding the grandilo 
 quent account he had sent to Montgom 
 ery of the success of his recruiting-service 
 back to Longueuil. On arriving at this 
 
 place, \vhich is nearly opposite to 
 
 -,. . . n . 
 
 Montreal, he was disappointed m 
 
 not finding a sufficient number of canoes 
 to take all his men over the river at once. 
 
200 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 He succeeded, however, in getting them 
 all across in the course of the night, and 
 in safety, notwithstanding that the weath 
 er was boisterous, and the stream so dis 
 turbed by the blustering wind, that it was 
 with difficulty the canoes were kept from 
 being overset. Sending out guards on 
 the road to Montreal, to prevent a sur 
 prise, Allen anxiously awaited to hear of 
 Brow r n s landing. The night was fast pas 
 sing, and no word came from Brown ; day 
 dawned, and still nothing was heard of 
 the impatiently-waited-for Brown. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the enemy had got 
 the alarm, and sent out forty regulars and 
 a considerable number of Canadians and 
 Indians, to drive away the invaders. Al 
 len could not retreat, as there were not 
 enough canoes to take his men back to 
 the opposite side of the river, and he ac 
 cordingly prepared to give battle. A se 
 vere struggle ensued, which lasted for 
 nearly two hours ; but most of Allen s 
 raw Canadian recruits having given w r ay, 
 he was left with only twenty-eight Amer 
 icans, seven of whom were wounded. 
 There was no alternative now for Allen 
 but surrender, and he accordingly yield 
 ed himself up to the British major and 
 his force, with the condition, however, of 
 honorable terms for himself and his men. 
 He was then led into the city, and brought 
 before General Prescott, the command 
 ant, when 
 
 "He asked me," writes Allen, "rrry 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." 
 The wild appearance of Allen and his 
 men, with their rough huntsmen s shirts, 
 had certainly nothing of the military reg 
 ulation" character, and it was not surpri 
 sing that a general of the " regular army" 
 should look at his prisoners as so many 
 freebooters. " Their leader," says Irving. 
 " albeit a colonel, must have seemed wor 
 thy of the band ; for Allen was arrayed 
 in rough, frontier style a deerskin jack 
 et, a vest and breeches of coarse serge, 
 worsted stockings, stout shoes, and a red 
 woollen cap." 
 
 Ethan was treated without regard to 
 his rank as colonel, and he and his men 
 were indiscriminately handcuffed, shack 
 led, and sent away to be thrust into the 
 hold of the Gaspee schooner-of-war, and 
 thus carried to England ; the British com 
 mandant of the fort swearing at Allen as 
 he was led off, and telling him he deserved 
 a halter. 
 
 Allen, before the schooner sailed, took 
 occasion to write to General Prescott, in 
 his usual rhetorical vein, and then reluc 
 tantly yielded to his fate. The Gaspee 
 schooner was his prison for five weeks, 
 and then he was transferred at Quebec 
 to another British vessel, which carried 
 him to Falmouth, in England, where he 
 was confined in Pendennis castle. Sub 
 sequently he was sent back to America, 
 and, after an imprisonment of a year and 
 a half at New York while in possession 
 of the British forces, he was exchanged 
 for an English officer, when he retired to 
 his home in Vermont, and lived there to 
 a good age, to talk and write copiously 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 SURRENDER OF ST. JOHNS. 
 
 201 
 
 about his wonderful exploits and adven 
 tures. 
 
 While poor Ethan Allen s ambitious 
 flights were thus suddenly clipped at 
 Montreal, a great triumph awaited his 
 old band of " Green-mountain boys," un 
 der the command of Seth Warner, with 
 the aid of Brown, who, for some reason 
 or other Avhich has never been explained, 
 instead of fulfilling his agreement with 
 Allen, had returned to the main body un 
 der Montgomery. General Guy Carle- 
 ton, having finished his boats, and gath 
 ering a large but miscellaneous force of 
 British, Canadians, and Indians, embarked 
 them at Montreal, with the view of pro 
 ceeding to the relief of St. Johns, invest 
 ed by Montgomery. Carleton, however, 
 in attempting to cross the St. Lawrence, 
 met with an unexpected opposition from 
 Seth Warner, who with his " Green-mount 
 ain boys" posted on the bank of the river 
 near Longueuil, opened such .a brisk fire 
 
 upon the enemy, that they were forced 
 in great confusion to fall back again into 
 Montreal. This, together with Brown s 
 success at Chambly, and his defeat of a 
 band of Highlanders on their march to 
 co-operate with Carleton, decided the fate 
 of St. .Johns. Montgomery, as soon as 
 he received word of the defeat of Carle- 
 ton, summoned the garrison to surrender, 
 informing the commandant that his ex 
 pected reinforcement had been cut off. 
 The brave Preston, the British command 
 ant, doubted the truth of the report, and 
 declared that he would still hold out for 
 four days ; but, provided the aid he anti 
 cipated did not come in the course of that 
 time, he would give up the fort. The aid 
 of course did not come. St. Johns was 
 then surrendered. Montgomery now ad 
 vanced upon Montreal, the gates 
 of which were opened without 
 resistance, and the Americans entered in 
 triumph. 
 
 Nov. 12, 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Arnold sails up the Kennebec. The Difficulties and Dangers of the Passage. The Falls of Norridgewock. The Portage 
 and its Trials. The Great Portage. The Dead River. A Deluge. A Camp overflowed. The Swollen Stream, 
 and the Dangers of its Navigation. Discouragement of the Men. Return of the most Discouraged. Retreat of Enos, 
 contrary to Orders. Washington s Confidence in Arnold s Success, in spite of Bad News. Increasing Difficulties. 
 Snow and Ice. Arnold, with a Small Party, pushes on in advance. Entrance of the Chaudiere. "A Fall ahead." 
 Narrow Escape from Destruction. Safe Arrival at Sertigan. Abundance of Provisions. Relief sent to those in the 
 Rear. Arnold well received by the Canadians. Pushes on, and reaches the Bank of the St. Lawrence opposite to 
 Quebec. Disappointed in not finding Boats. Crosses in Canoes. Lands in Wolfe s Cove. Scales the Heights of 
 Abraham. Summons Quebec to surrender. Answered by a Fire. Retires, and awaits the Approach of Montgomery 
 
 1775, 
 
 ARNOLD entered the Kennebec on 
 the 20th of September, and sailed 
 up to Gardiner without difficulty, save 
 the grounding of one or two of his trans- 
 
 26 
 
 ports, which were, however, finally got 
 off At Pittston, opposite to Gardiner, he 
 found in readiness the two hundred bat- 
 teaux which had been constructed by the 
 
202 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 carpenters sent by "Washington from the 
 camp at Cambridge ; and he accordingly 
 transhipped his men and provisions into 
 these boats, and continued his route to 
 Fort Western. On reaching this point, 
 Arnold found an Indian messenger, with 
 news from the two pioneers he had sent 
 on in advance to obtain information of 
 the proposed route of the expedition. 
 There was little, however, that was satis 
 factory in the communication received, 
 as the pioneers had only penetrated as 
 far as the head-waters of the Dead river, 
 and sent back such discouraging accounts 
 of the dangers and difficulties of the wil 
 derness, that it was presumed they had 
 given ear to the exaggerated tales of the 
 Indians, who, although professing to be 
 friendly to the Americans, were suspect 
 ed to be in the interest of the British in 
 Canada. 
 
 Arnold, however, was not the man to 
 be swerved from his purpose by any re 
 ports of danger, nor in fact by danger it 
 self. He accordingly persisted in his plan 
 of forcing his way through the wilderness, 
 in spite of its terrors. The course he 
 marked out for himself was along the 
 western branch of the Kennebec, called 
 the Dead river, and through Lake Megan- 
 tic into the Chaudiere. Arnold, having 
 sent in advance two parties of half a dozen 
 men each, to survey the route and obtain 
 what information they could, began to 
 move his whole force. The army was 
 divided into four parts, each of which set 
 out on separate days, that there might 
 be always a day s distance between the 
 divisions. Morgan, with his riflemen, led 
 the van ; on the next day went Greene 
 
 and Bigelow, with three companies ; on 
 the third, Meigs with four ; and finally, 
 on the fourth, Enos with the remainder. 
 
 Arnold having, with great personal ef 
 fort, succeeded in starting his forces, now 
 set out himself in a birch- canoe, and 
 pushed his way so rapidly along the Ken 
 nebec, that on the third day he reached 
 the van of his little army under Morgan, 
 who had got as far as the falls of Nor- 
 ridgewock. Here there was a portage, 
 and it became necessary to land and car 
 ry the boats around the falls, to the part 
 of the stream above, where it was naviga 
 ble. As the banks of the river were com 
 posed chiefly of irregular rocks, the labor 
 of the men was immense ; but Arnold, 
 always active, and personally overseeing 
 all the details of the work, succeeded in 
 getting each division, as it came up, in 
 safety around the falls. They were not 
 able to set out again on their route for 
 nearly a week, in consequence of the con 
 dition of the batteaux, which, being new 
 and hastily constructed, leaked so badly, 
 that much of the provision was damaged. 
 They had their carpenters, however, with 
 them, who set to work making the neces 
 sary repairs, and all the boats were again 
 launched and pushing on their course. 
 
 Arnold remained until the last batteau 
 had shoved off, and then betook himself 
 again to his birchen canoe, with his In 
 dian guide, and paddled swiftly on, pas 
 sing all the boats, until he reached the 
 "Great Carrying-place," between the Ken 
 nebec and its western branch, or Dead 
 river. The first two divisions of his force 
 had already arrived at this place, and here 
 awaited them a labor more toilsome than 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE GREAT PORTAGE. 
 
 203 
 
 even what they had already undergone. 
 The men thus far had successfully over 
 come all the difficulties of their arduous 
 voyage. They had forced their course 
 against the rapid current by often jump 
 ing into the stream up to their waists, 
 and shoving their boats along by main 
 strength. "You would have taken the 
 men," wrote Arnold to Washington, " for 
 amphibious animals, as they were great 
 part of the time under water." They had 
 been obliged to drag or carry their boats 
 already over no less than four portages. 
 The men, however, had borne the labor 
 and exposure so far without much suffer 
 ing ; for, although the effective force was 
 reduced, by illness and desertion, from 
 eleven hundred to nine hundred and fif 
 ty, there had been but one death. Ar 
 nold was, as usual, full of hope, and san- 
 guinely held out to his men that he would 
 take them to the Chaudiere river in lit 
 tle more than a week. 
 
 But the " Great Portage" was now be 
 fore them, and its obstacles proved more 
 formidable than was anticipated by Ar 
 nold. The batteaux were to be alter 
 nately carried by the men, dragged by 
 oxen, and floated, through a space of some 
 fifteen miles of rugged territory, with pre 
 cipitous granite rocks, morasses, ponds, 
 and other rude features, of what was then 
 a remote wilderness, and is still a wildly- 
 picturesque country. Arnold, however, 
 undertook the work, and accomplished it. 
 His men were able to obtain a welcome 
 refreshment in the large quantities of sal 
 mon and trout which they caught in the 
 lakes and streams ; and Arnold judicious 
 ly built a log-house on the route, where 
 
 he left the sick and disabled, and thus dis 
 embarrassed himself of those who only 
 encumbered his progress. On reaching 
 the Dead river, and launching their bat- 
 teaux upon its waters, the men, as they 
 moved easily on its smooth surface, with 
 hardly a resistance from the gentle cur 
 rent, were cheered with the hope that 
 their greatest trials were over. They 
 continued their course in fine spirits, and 
 looked with delighted wonder upon the 
 solemn beauties of the scenery, where 
 great mountains, topped with snow, rose 
 high and clear above the forest wilder 
 ness. 
 
 On reaching the base of one of the 
 highest of the mountain-range, Arnold 
 hoisted the American flag, and encamped 
 his men, for several days repose. There 
 seems to have been still a superfluity of 
 animal spirits in the army, for one of the 
 officers took occasion to mount to the 
 top of the peak which is now called 
 " Mount Bigelow," from, the adventurous 
 major of that name who accomplished the 
 ascent. 
 
 Arnold now began to fear that his pro 
 visions would fall short ; so he sent back 
 a party of ninety men for supplies : but, 
 directing them to make the utmost speed, 
 so as not to detain him, he continued to 
 pursue his route. The riflemen he sent 
 on in advance, and followed himself with 
 the second division a day subsequently. 
 He had no sooner started, than it began 
 to rain, and did not cease for three days, 
 pouring down a perfect deluge, drench 
 ing the men to the skin, and wetting the 
 baggage through and through. The riv 
 er now beo;an to swell from the effects of 
 
204 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 the constant rain, and the current became 
 so rapid, that it was with the utmost dif 
 ficulty the boats could stem the torrent. 
 Worn out with fatigue, the men landed 
 and encamped at the close of a day of 
 hard work, upon some low ground on the 
 margin of the stream, and had hardly 
 laid down for a night s repose, when the 
 river, which had overflowed its banks, 
 came rushing in upon them so rapidly, 
 that they barely succeeded in reaching 
 their boats. Embarked again, they found 
 themselves bewildered in their attempts 
 to keep their course, and were constantly 
 wandering out of their way into the smal 
 ler branches of the river, which had been 
 swollen into great streams by the deluge. 
 The waters, too, were so thick with drift 
 wood and so turbulent, that there was 
 danger every moment of the whole fleet 
 of boats being swamped ; and finally sev 
 en of the batteaux were upset, and ev 
 erything in them swept away in the tor 
 rent. 
 
 The men now became so disheartened 
 by this accident, which greatly dimin 
 ished their supplies, that Arnold thought 
 it expedient to land and consult with his 
 officers upon what should be done in the 
 emergency. By the advice of their lead 
 er, who was never despondent, it was re 
 solved to persevere, after the force should 
 be relieved of those who were too ill or 
 faint-hearted to proceed. A number were 
 accordingly sent back, and with them or 
 ders to Greene of the third, and Colonel 
 Enos who had command of the last divis 
 ion, at some distance still in the rear, to 
 select their strongest men, and, hurrying 
 forward with them, to leave the rest to 
 
 return along with Arnold s own invalided 
 party to Norridgewock. Greene did as 
 he was bid ; but Enos, instead of obeying 
 his orders, retreated with his whole force 
 to Cambridge, where he was tried by a 
 court-martial, and acquitted on the plea 
 of a want of provisions. 
 
 Washington, on hearing of Enos s aban 
 donment of his leader,was greatly grieved, 
 though he did not seem to doubt but that 
 Arnold would ultimately overcome every 
 obstacle. "Notwithstanding this great 
 defection," wrote the commander-in-chief, 
 " I do not despair of Colonel Arnold s suc 
 cess." Arnold showed himself in every 
 respect worthy of this confidence in his 
 resolute energies, and continued, under 
 increasing trials to his patience and coui*- 
 age, to strive on as manfully as ever. 
 
 The weather continued to get worse, 
 for the rain changed to a heavy fall of 
 snow, and the men suffered now from ex 
 cessive cold as well as from the dripping 
 wet ; while, to add to their discomforts, 
 ice formed upon the water, through which 
 they had to break when wading and drag 
 ging their boats along. Arnold, unwil 
 ling to force his army through difficulties 
 which seemed too much for their powers 
 of endurance, now determined to push on 
 with a small party in advance, with the 
 hope of being soon able to reach the riv 
 er Chaudiere, and to send back, from the 
 settlement on its banks, provisions of 
 which they stood greatly in need to re- 
 invigorate those left behind, and thus en 
 able them to continue their arduous prog 
 ress. He accordingly set out with sixty 
 men, along a route which was but a repe 
 tition of the same difficulties and obstruo- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ARNOLD ARRIVES AT SERTIGAN. 
 
 205 
 
 tions which he had already experienced. 
 The weather continued bad, the portages 
 did not diminish in number, and the men 
 were constantly exposed to the severe 
 cold, and kept hard at work dragging 
 their boats through the river while up to 
 their waists in the water, or carrying them 
 for miles together over the rugged land, 
 past fall after fall. 
 
 On entering Lake Megan tic, Arnold 
 overtook the pioneers who had been sent 
 in advance to cut away the wood with 
 the hatchet, and otherwise clear the way, 
 and was met by one of his messengers, 
 who brought back most favorable accounts 
 of the friendly disposition of the Canadi 
 ans toward the expedition. This was en 
 couraging ; but what was more particu 
 larly required now by the half-famished 
 men was, something to satisfy their hun 
 ger. So scarce had food become, that 
 
 O 
 
 they were obliged to kill their dogs and 
 eat the flesh ; and when this supply was 
 exhausted, they were reduced to the ne 
 cessity of making a soup out of their 
 mooseskin moccasins ! Arnold now felt 
 the urgent necessity of an immediate ef 
 fort for relief; and, accordingly, landing 
 his main force on the bank of the lake, 
 with orders to move leisurely on by land, 
 he hastily equipped half a dozen boats, 
 and, taking sixteen men with him, pushed 
 on up the lake. They quickly reached 
 the northern extremity of Lake Megan- 
 tic, and entered the Chaudiere. Without 
 guides they began the dangerous naviga 
 tion of this turbulent stream, and, getting 
 among the rapids, three of the boats were 
 overturned, and six of the men had a hard 
 struggle for life. They were, however, 
 
 Oct. 30. 
 
 saved from drowning, and conveyed to 
 the land, where, after drying their clothes, 
 they took to their remaining boats, and 
 prepared to hurry forward. At this mo 
 ment, one of the party, having proceeded 
 for some distance in advance, cried out, 
 " A fall ahead !" And, sure enough, they 
 were just on the verge of a cataract, and 
 barely had time to save themselves from 
 being swept over, with the result of cer 
 tain death to every man of them. They 
 were now obliged to carry their boats 
 around this dangerous fall ; and, starting 
 again, they finally succeeded, without fur 
 ther accident, in reaching the French sei> 
 tlement of Sertigan, near the 
 Chaudiere and Des Loups riv 
 ers. Arnold found abundance of provis 
 ions here, and immediately sent back a 
 supply to his famished troops. The re 
 lief proved timely, for they had been re 
 duced almost to starvation. They were 
 found coming slowly and disconsolately 
 along the banks of the river, having lost 
 all their boats, with most of the baggage, 
 in the turbulent waters of the Chaudiere. 
 Refreshed with abundance of food, they 
 hurried their march, and soon began, in 
 straggling detachments, to enter Sertigan, 
 where they all finally arrived in a few 
 days. 
 
 Arnold now, as he was approaching 
 the Canadian capital, was anxious that 
 Schuyler, with whom he was to co-oper 
 ate, should be made aware of his move 
 ments. He therefore, with an imprudent 
 confidence,intrusted a chance Indian with 
 a despatch to the American general, which 
 was enclosed in a letter to one of Arnold s 
 friends in Quebec. Arnold was encour- 
 
206 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 aged by the reception which he met with 
 among the inhabitants of the valley of 
 the Chaudiere. He had followed the di 
 rections of Washington, who had urged 
 upon him to treat the Canadian people 
 with great kindness, to avoid offending 
 in any respect their religious prejudices, 
 and strictly to regard their rights of prop 
 erty. Arnold had been provided with 
 printed manifestoes, setting forth the 
 cause of the provincials, and appealing 
 to the Canadians for active sympathy. 
 These were diligently distributed, and 
 appeared to produce everywhere a favor 
 able effect. After a delay of a few days 
 in the enjoyment of the abounding hospi 
 tality of the generous and simple-minded 
 French inhabitants of that sequestered 
 valley, Arnold moved on with all his 
 force, and arrived at Point Levi, 
 opposite to Quebec, on the 13th of 
 November. 
 
 Arnold was disappointed, on reaching 
 the shore, to find that there were no boats 
 to take his force across the St. Lawrence. 
 The enemy, in fact, had learned the par 
 ticulars of his march through the despatch 
 to Schuyler, which had been intrusted to 
 the Indian messenger, and who had treach 
 erously delivered it up to the British of 
 ficer in command at Quebec. The boats 
 were accordingly all withdrawn to the 
 Quebec side of the river, a frigate and a 
 sloop-of-war stationed in the St. Lawrence 
 to intercept the invaders, and additional 
 troops from Sorel and Newfoundland hur 
 ried in to reinforce the garrison. Ar 
 nold s impetuosity, however, was not to be 
 checked ; and getting together, through 
 the agency of the Indians and Canadians 
 
 1775, 
 
 who had joined him, a number of birchen 
 canoes, he succeeded, in the course of a 
 night, in setting all but a hundred and 
 fifty of his men on the Plains of Abra 
 ham, having landed at "Wolfe s cove," 
 and clambered with his men the same 
 rugged path up which that brave gener 
 al had led the British troops. 
 
 The American commander, conscious 
 of the increased strength of the garrison, 
 could have had little hope of a successful 
 assault ; but, as he had reason to believe 
 that the inhabitants of Quebec were dis 
 affected toward their rulers and favorably 
 disposed toward his own enterprise, he 
 was determined to try the temper of the 
 people. Arnold accordingly inarched his 
 force close to the walls of the city, and 
 ordered them to send up three loud huz 
 zas, with the hope that the troops would 
 be provoked to make a sally, and that 
 the gates being thus opened, the Cana 
 dians would take the occasion of co-oper 
 ating with him. He was, however, disap 
 pointed in the effects of his bravado, for 
 the garrison only answered it by a salute 
 from their guns. Arnold next tried the 
 lieutenant-governor, with a pompous de 
 mand, in the name of the American Con 
 gress, to surrender. This, of course, the 
 British officer, confident in his superior 
 force, and the humble means of his ene 
 my, contemptuously disregarded. 
 
 Arnold was now fain to depart, partic 
 ularly as he heard from some of his old 
 friends in Quebec that the British were 
 about coming out to attack him with a 
 large force, and knew that his own troops 
 were so deficient in numbers and in sup 
 plies of ammunition for they had but 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 MONTGOMERY IN MONTREAL. 
 
 207 
 
 five rounds of cartridge to a man that 
 it would be folly to attempt a resistance. 
 He acordingly marched up the banks of 
 
 the St. Lawrence, and took post at Point 
 aux Trembles, to await the approach of 
 Montgomery. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Montgomery enters Montreal without Opposition. Sir Guy Carleton enclosed between two American Forces. Escapes 
 in Disguise, but loses his Flotilla. Montgomery worried by the Disobedience of his Troops. Many refuse to follow 
 Him. He marches, however, with a Few, and joins Arnold. Montgomery assumes the General Command, and 
 marches to the Plains of Abraham. Quebec summoned to surrender. A Siege. Vain Attempts to communicate 
 with the Disaffected Inhabitants of Quebec. An Ice-Battery. An Assault determined upon. Trouble among the 
 American Troops. The Assault begins. Its Progress. Death of Montgomery. Morgan s Desperate Struggle, and 
 Final Capture. Failure of the Assault. Arnold succeeds to the Chief Command, and is promoted to the Rank of 
 Brigadier-General. Retires to a Short Distance from Quebec, and prepares to receive an Expected Attack from the 
 British. 
 
 1775, 
 
 As Montgomery entered Montre 
 al without opposition, on the 12th 
 of November, Sir Guy Carleton, the gov 
 ernor of Canada, passed hurriedly out 
 with his officers and small force, and, em 
 barking in a half-dozen river-craft, sailed 
 down the St. Lawrence with the view of 
 reaching Quebec. The Americans, how 
 ever, under the command of Major Brow r n, 
 after their success at Chambly, and the 
 defeat of the Highlanders sent to rein 
 force Carleton, had taken possession of a 
 post at the mouth of the Sorel, which 
 they fortified, so placing their guns as to 
 command the passage of the St. Lawrence 
 between Montreal and Quebec. Carle- 
 ton attempted to pass this resistance, and 
 was driven back, with his small flotilla. 
 He now found himself imprisoned be 
 tween Montgomery above, at Montreal, 
 and the American batteries at the mouth 
 of the Sorel below, with hardly a hope 
 of escape. 
 
 Montgomery was eager to get hold of 
 
 Carleton as his capture, he believed, 
 might settle the fate of Canada. Carle- 
 ton was equally anxious to save himself) 
 but was perplexed to discover the means, 
 and remained fixed,, with his vessels an 
 chored in the St. Lawrence, with the en 
 emy above and below. Montgomery now 
 made a move which appeared decisive. 
 He came down from Montreal with a 
 fleet of batteaux, mounted with guns, de 
 termined to crowd Carleton down upon 
 the American battery at the mouth of 
 the Sorel, and so close in upon him as to 
 make sure of his capture. Carleton, see 
 ing the approaching danger, gave up all 
 hope of the safety of his flotilla, but re 
 solved upon making an effort to secure 
 himself from capture. He accordingly 
 disguised himself as a Canadian voyageur, 
 and taking a boat, with six men to pull 
 it, set off in the midst of a dark night, 
 and silently floated down the St. Law 
 rence with muffled oars, passed all the 
 dangers of the mouth of the Sorel, and 
 
208 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 getting on board a vessel below, reached 
 in safety the city of Quebec at the very 
 moment Arnold took his departure. In 
 the meanwhile, Montgomery had reached 
 the British vessels, which at once surren 
 dered, with all on board, among whom 
 was General Prescott, the former com 
 mander at Montreal, of whose rough treat 
 ment Ethan Allen had reason to make so 
 much complaint. 
 
 Montgomery had met with great suc 
 cess in his efforts toward conciliating the 
 people of Montreal. His courtesy, and 
 careful regard of their rights and privi 
 leges, proved to them that he was no mil 
 itary adventurer, and they became favor 
 ably disposed toward a cause sustained 
 by a man so peaceful in his bearing and 
 so just in his conduct. His own troops, 
 however, gave him great trouble, and so 
 worried him by their disobedience and 
 importunate demands to be sent home, 
 that he quite sickened of his command, 
 and wrote to Schuyler, expressing the 
 hope that his health would soon allow of 
 his resuming a position of which he him 
 self wearied and disgusted. " I must go 
 home," he added, " 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." 
 
 Montgomery had received intelligence 
 of the arrival of Arnold at Point aux Trem 
 bles, and was anxious to march with his 
 troops and co-operate with him in an at 
 tack on Quebec. He was trying " to pre 
 vail on the troops to accompany" him, 
 but was met with all kinds of objections. 
 Some were too ill to go j some declared 
 that their time was out ; others openly 
 
 refused ; and a few only were disposed to 
 obey orders, or rather to yield to persua 
 sion, for in those days the militia were 
 mostly inclined to enjoy their indepen 
 dence before they had won it. Mont 
 gomery was, however, determined to go, 
 notwithstanding the reluctance of most 
 of his army, and accordingly embarked 
 with some three hundred men, who were 
 all that were willing to follow him, and 
 sailed down to Point aux Trembles, where 
 he formed a junction with Arnold, and 
 took command of the whole force, which 
 amounted to nine hundred in all. Mont 
 gomery seems to have been struck with 
 admiration by the soldierly appearance 
 of Arnold s troops, and by the character 
 of their leader. " There is a style of dis 
 cipline among them," he wrote to Schuy 
 ler, " much superior to what I have been 
 used to see in this campaign. He [Ar 
 nold] himself is active, intelligent, and 
 enterprising." Favorably impressed as he 
 was with what he saw of Arnold s troops 
 who were well-disciplined, had been re 
 freshed, and comfortably clad with a sup 
 ply of woollens from Montreal Mont 
 gomery became sanguine of success in the 
 contemplated attack upon Quebec. Ar 
 nold, however, was less hopeful, and wrote 
 to Washington that it would require five 
 thousand men to reduce that stronghold. 
 Montgomery calculated upon the dis 
 affection of the inhabitants of Quebec; 
 the miscellaneous character of the British 
 troops, made up of sailors, raw recruits, 
 and a few regulars ; and the great extent 
 of the fortifications, which seemed to re 
 quire a larger number for their defence 
 than Carleton possessed. The latter, how- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 MONTGOMERY BEFORE QUEBEC. 
 
 209 
 
 Dec. 1. 
 
 ever, though unpopular from the reserve 
 of his aristocratic manners, was a man full 
 of vigorous energy in an emergency, and 
 he accordingly prepared to meet with 
 spirit the expected assault. To assure 
 loyalty, he turned out all suspected per 
 sons from official position, and even sent 
 " trooping out of the town" all those in 
 habitants who showed any unwillingness 
 to put forth their might in its defence. 
 He had, by this thinning out, so far di 
 minished his numbers within Quebec, as 
 to leave only fifteen hundred men, near 
 ly double that of the American force ; but 
 although Carleton was not conscious of 
 this disparity, he confidently awaited the 
 coining of his enemy. 
 
 As soon as the junction of the Ameri 
 can forces had been formed, Montgomery 
 marched to the Plains of Abra 
 ham. Immediately on his arri 
 val, he attempted to send a summons to 
 the British commander to surrender ; but 
 Carleton would not allow any flag to ap 
 proach the walls, and all communication 
 was refused. Montgomery then began 
 to play with his artillery upon the town 
 and its suburbs, but with no effect beyond 
 the occasional burning of a house, and 
 the killing of a man or two. After this 
 ill success, a ruse was tried, with the hope 
 of communicating with some of the in 
 habitants supposed to be favorably dis 
 posed toward the American cause. A wo 
 man was induced to carry letters into the 
 city, addressed to some of the merchants, 
 who were promised every possible favor 
 in case of co-operation with Montgomery. 
 With these letters there was a summons 
 to surrender, with an exaggerated state- 
 27 
 
 ment of the American force, intended for 
 the eye of Carleton. This was handed 
 him ; but the British commander, nothing 
 daunted, merely imprisoned the messen 
 ger in petticoats, withheld all answer to 
 the communication of the American gen 
 eral, and steadily persevered in strength 
 ening his defences. 
 
 Montgomery, disappointed in not pro 
 ducing, by summons and letters, any im 
 pression upon Carleton, or apparently up 
 on the inhabitants of Quebec, now began 
 a systematic attack. Approaching with 
 in four hundred yards of the centre of 
 the walls, opposite to one of the gates, he 
 commenced the construction of a breast 
 work. The army had but a poor supply 
 of intrenching-tools to work with ; and 
 the ground, moreover, was so hardened 
 by the severe frost, that it was only with 
 the greatest labor that pick or spade 
 could make any impression upon it. A 
 snowstorm had set in as soon as Mont 
 gomery left Montreal, and was still in full 
 blast, so that the men were much incom 
 moded by the weather. The snow, how 
 ever, which now in great depth covered 
 the ground, was turned to advantage, for 
 it was used to fill in the space behind the 
 trees and brushwood which formed the 
 frame of the breastwork. After being 
 well packed, and covered with water 
 which froze immediately in those cold De 
 cember days the snow became a mass 
 of solid ice. Haifa dozen small fieldpieces 
 were here planted, and kept firing bombs 
 into the city, with the hope of frighten 
 ing the inhabitants, and inducing them to 
 force Carleton into submission. No such 
 result, however, ensued ; and then Mont- 
 
210 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 gomery tried the expedient of attaching 
 letters to arrows, and ordering the Indi 
 ans- to shoot them into the town, that the 
 citizens might pick them up, and, reading 
 them, be advised to insist upon a surren 
 der, which was the purport of what was 
 written. This also failed in its effect. 
 
 After the "ice-battery" had been for 
 live days ineffectually trying its artillery 
 upon the walls, and its powers of persua 
 sion upon the people within, the general 
 took occasion one night to pay a visit to 
 the captain in command Lamb was his 
 name. Montgomery had hardly arrived, 
 when a ball came plump from the ene 
 my s guns against the walls of ice, shat 
 tering them like so much glass, overturn 
 ing the light fieldpieces, and wounding 
 ing several of the men. " This is warm 
 work, sir," said the general to 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."* This was the end of the 
 brittle ice-battery ; for Montgomery, see 
 ing its entire inefficiency and danger, im 
 mediately ordered Lamb and his brave 
 men to abandon it. 
 
 Three weeks had been spent in these 
 vain attempts to influence the inhabit 
 ants, when it was finally decided to make 
 a general assault upon the city. Mont 
 gomery w r as distrustful of his means for 
 a successful attempt ; but, as his troops 
 were growing dissatisfied with the long 
 delay, and discouraged by-labors and suf 
 ferings undergone without any compen 
 sating advantage, he felt it necessary, 
 
 * Life of John Lamb, p. 125, quoted by Irving. 
 
 either to strike a blow, or retire. He 
 could not submit to the latter alterna 
 tive, for he knew that his country expect 
 ed much of him, and his own brave spirit 
 prompted him to deeds of daring. Mont 
 gomery was, indeed, conscious that his 
 men were hardly in a condition to under 
 take so hazardous an enterprise ; for they 
 had suffered (ill clothed and ill provided 
 as they were with food) from the severity 
 of the weather, and they not only mur 
 mured loudly, but even refused to obey 
 orders. The commander, however, hoped 
 that their martial ardor, warming with 
 the prospect of action, would melt away 
 disaffection, and soon reunite the hearts 
 of all in common sympathy. 
 
 The plan of operations being settled, 
 the various divisions of the troops were 
 ordered to be drawn up, to prepare for 
 their separate duties. At this moment 
 word was brought to the general that 
 three companies of Arnold s detachment 
 refused obedience, declaring that they 
 would no longer serve, unless placed un 
 der a different command. Montgomery 
 
 CJ / 
 
 might well be discouraged by such an oc 
 currence at such a moment ; but he mas 
 tered his feelings, and promptly present 
 ing himself to the disorderly troops, suc 
 ceeded by his firmness in bringing them 
 back to their duty. 
 
 The whole force was now mustered, 
 and it was found that disease for the 
 small-pox had broken out among them 
 and desertion had reduced the troops to 
 the small number of seven hundred and 
 fifty. These were then detailed for duty. 
 One division, under Montgomery, was to 
 descend the cliffs, and, proceeding along 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ASSAULT OF QUEBEC. 
 
 211 
 
 the river around Cape Diamond, attack 
 the town in that quarter ; another, under 
 Arnold, was to advance on the other side 
 by the suburb of St. Roque, and the two 
 were to fight their way from these oppo 
 site directions until they met. The third 
 division, under Brown and Livingston, 
 was to advance from the Plains of Abra 
 ham, set fire to St. John s gate, and make 
 a show of assault against the walls of the 
 fortress on the heights, in order to divert 
 the enemy from the movements of the 
 main body below. It was arranged that 
 these various attacks should be simulta 
 neous, on the letting off of some signal- 
 rockets. 
 
 It was two o clock in the morning, in 
 
 Dec. 31. 
 
 the midst of a heavy snowstorm, 
 when the movement began. Mont 
 gomery led his men down the rugged 
 path to Wolfe s cove below, and along 
 the shore of the river, without opposition, 
 until he reached a narrow point below 
 the slate-crags of Cape Diamond. Here 
 he found a fence of pickets, which the 
 carpenters soon cut away with their saws, 
 the general helping to pull them down 
 with his own hands. Montgomery was 
 the first to enter, followed by his aid-de 
 camp. The men hesitated and lingered. 
 About fifty yards before them, with the 
 river on one side and a precipitous rock on 
 the other, stood a blockhouse or redoubt, 
 strongly fortified, mounted with some 
 heavy guns, and garrisoned with fifty of 
 the enemy. Montgomery fancied his ap 
 proach was unperceived, and confidently 
 advanced along the narrow and irregular 
 path, doubly insecure from the accumu 
 lated ice, urging his New- York regiment j 
 
 to follow, saying : " Men of New York, 
 you will not fear to follow where your 
 general leads ! Push on, brave boys, and 
 Quebec is ours!" Montgomery, with 
 sword in hand, then hurried in advance, 
 and had hardly made a dash at the re 
 doubt, when a sudden light flashed upon 
 the darkness, and a volley of cannon-shot 
 swept the American column, killing the 
 general, his two aids, and many of the 
 rank and file, at the first discharge. The 
 rest of the men were driven back in con 
 fusion to Wolfe s cove, where they were 
 rallied by Colonel Campbell, who, how 
 ever, did not attempt to bring them up 
 again to the attack. 
 
 The signal-rockets had been by some 
 accident let off too soon, and the diver 
 sion which was to have been made by 
 the division on the Plains of Abraham 
 had failed : so the enemy within the city 
 was on the alert, prepared to receive Ar 
 nold and his detachment, in their attack 
 through the suburb of St. Roque. Arnold, 
 at the head of an advanced guard of a lieu 
 tenant and thirty men, led the van ; next 
 went the artillery-company, under Cap 
 tain Lamb, with a single fieldpiece on a 
 sledge ; Morgan and his riflemen, together 
 with a company in charge of scaling-lad 
 ders, brought up the rear. They proceed 
 along the bank of the St. Charles, floun 
 dering in the depths of the drifted snow, 
 and go groping in the dark into the low 
 er town. Here, with the narrow, irregu 
 lar streets, the crowded houses, the stores, 
 boats, and wharves, all seems inextrica 
 ble confusion; but Arnold continues to 
 lead on his advance-guard in single file 
 each man making his way as best he can 
 
212 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 after him. He now comes upon a two- 
 gun battery stretched across the street, 
 and halts momentarily for his fieldpiece ; 
 but, finding that it can not be dragged up 
 through the deep snowdrifts, Arnold be 
 gins the attack: he is, however, so severely 
 wounded in the knee on the first advance, 
 that he has to be carried back to the rear, 
 and is obliged to leave the assault to Mor 
 gan, the next in command, who hurries 
 up with his riflemen, and after a severe 
 struggle, which lasts nearly an hour, car 
 ries the battery. The enemy, although 
 they fired their muskets briskly, and even 
 a discharge of grapeshot, did but little 
 mischief beyond wounding Arnold and 
 killing one man. Morgan was so rapid 
 in his approach, and came so close to the 
 battery, that his riflemen were enabled to 
 shoot through the embrasures and drive 
 the men from their guns ; and thus give 
 free scope for the use of the scaling-lad 
 ders, which were at once planted against 
 the pickets. The Americans now clam 
 bered over and took the captain and his 
 thirty men captive. 
 
 Pushing on immediately along the 
 street, Morgan finds himself obstructed 
 by another and more formidable battery. 
 The citizens, too, are now everywhere on 
 the alert, and keep firing from their win 
 dows upon the Americans, who, though 
 sorely galled, continue to advance. Mor 
 gan leads his men as before right up to 
 the barrier, which, strongly fortified with 
 pickets, and planted with heavy guns, 
 stretched from the precipice which over 
 hangs the lower town down to the river. 
 The riflemen, getting close under the en 
 emy s cannon, fire away, aiming through 
 
 the embrasures, and succeed in making 
 room for the ladders. The men, howev 
 er, are driven back with their scaling- 
 implements ; they are planted again and 
 again, but without success. The Amer 
 icans, with a fire now concentrated upon 
 them from every point of the city forti 
 fications, are obliged to withdraw, and 
 protect themselves in the narrow alleys 
 and the neighboring houses, where they 
 continue, however, to keep up a brave 
 struggle against the enemy. Rallying 
 again for another attack upon the battery, 
 they finally succeed in carrying it, but not 
 without a severe loss of life. Lamb, the 
 captain of the artillery, was struck at the 
 last moment by a grapeshot, which tore 
 away a part of his jawbone. As the gun 
 ners were about retreating from the bar 
 rier, one of them determined to have one 
 more shot, when Lamb, observing his 
 purpose, levelled a musket at the fellow, 
 but missed his fire, and received in full 
 face the discharge of grape which so ter 
 ribly mutilated him. 
 
 The battery taken, Morgan and his men 
 prepared for a rush into the town ; and 
 they issued out for the purpose, but were 
 forced by overwhelming numbers to take 
 refuge in a stone building, whence they 
 kept up a severe fire upon the enemy 
 thronging the street below. Morgan now 
 heard of the death of Montgomery, and 
 that a large detachment from the garri 
 son had come down, and, suddenly burst 
 ing through the gates upon the American 
 rearguard under Cap tain Dearborn, forced 
 it to surrender. He was thus so com 
 pletely hemmed in, and cut off from all 
 reinforcement, that he offered no further 
 
THE AMERICAN LOSS. 
 
 REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 resistance, and yielded himself up with 
 his men to the enemy. 
 
 Arnold now resumed the command, 
 and determined, in spite of the severity 
 of a Canadian winter, and the mere hand 
 ful of troops left him, to blockade the city, 
 and await reinforcements. He was en 
 couraged in this resolution by the appa 
 rent distrust in which Caiieton, the Brit 
 ish commander, seemed to hold his own 
 strength ; for, after his success within the 
 town, he did not even attempt to pursue 
 the remnant of Americans beyond the 
 walls. Arnold, however, anticipating a 
 pursuit, had withdrawn his men to a dis 
 tance of three miles from Quebec, and 
 there, hastily fortifying himself, awaited 
 an expected attack. 
 
 The loss of the Americans in this un 
 successful attack was heavy, being about 
 one hundred and sixty killed and wound 
 ed, while that of the enemy amounted to 
 only twenty. The patriots mourned, in 
 the death of Montgomery, one of the 
 bravest and purest of the defenders of 
 their cause. The enemy respected his 
 character; and Carleton eulogized his 
 worth, and reverently ordered his remains 
 
 213 
 
 to be buried with military honors in a sol 
 dier s grave. M Pherson and Cheesman, 
 his two aids-de-camp, who had fallen with 
 their commander, were men of spirit, 
 whose loss was grieved, as is always that 
 of the young and the brave. Cheesman 
 is supposed to have had a presentiment 
 of approaching death, and on the day of 
 the fatal struggle had dressed himself 
 with even more than the usual care of the 
 youthful officer. As he prepared to go 
 out, he thrust some gold pieces into his 
 pocket, saying laughingly, " This will in 
 sure me a decent burial." 
 
 The continental Congress rewarded Ar 
 nold for his persevering courage and skill 
 while leading his troops through the wil 
 derness, and his gallantry at Quebec, by 
 promoting him to the rank of a brigadier- 
 general. The other officers proved their 
 merit by their conduct during that night s 
 struggle at Quebec ; and there was hard 
 ly one whose name we shall not afterward 
 find memorable in the subsequent history 
 of the battles of the Revolution. They 
 need no tribute but the record of their 
 names: Morgan, Dearborn, Meigs, Greene, 
 Lamb, Oswald, Thayer, and Potsfield. 
 
214 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART 11. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Inactivity of the American Camp at Cambridge. Washington s Anxieties. Gage summoned to England. Succeeded 
 in Command by Howe. Howe s Plans for Incursions on the Coasts. The Burning of Falmouth. American Priva 
 teers. Howe increases his Fortifications. Churches turned into Barracks and Stables. Harsh Proceedings of Howe 
 against the Patriots. Retaliation. A Committee of Congress visits the American Camp. Benjamin Franklin. 
 An Attack upon Boston considered in Council. Franklin takes Occasion to collect a Debt. Treason in the American 
 Camp. Washington laughs. Doctor Church s Trial. His Condemnation and Subsequent Fate. A Small Ameri 
 can Fleet fitted out. The Various Fortunes of the Vessels. Sickness in the American Camp. A Visit from some 
 Indian Gentlemen. Comparison with some of the New-England Gentry. 
 
 1775, 
 
 WASHINGTON, in the movement 
 against Canada, in which he took 
 a great interest, found some relief for his 
 forced inactivity at Cambridge. Here, 
 however, in his camp, although desirous 
 by " some decisive stroke" to drive the 
 enemy from Boston, he could do nothing, 
 as the condition of his troops was such 
 as not to justify any offensive operations. 
 Still, he had been so importuned to ac 
 tivity, that he determined to call a coun 
 cil of war, and consult upon the expedi 
 ency of making an immediate attack on 
 Boston. It was, however, unanimously 
 agreed " that it was not expedient to 
 make the attempt at present." The state 
 of the army was certainly not very en 
 couraging. The time of service of many 
 of the troops would soon expire, and they 
 already anticipated their liberty by a free 
 indulgence in their own caprices, and a 
 general disobedience of orders. " My sit 
 uation," wrote Washington, " is inexpres 
 sibly distressing ; to see the win 
 ter fast approaching upon a na 
 ked army, the time of their service within 
 a few weeks of expiring, and no provis 
 ion yet made for such important wants. 
 Added to these, the military chest is to- 
 
 Sept, 21, 
 
 tally exhausted ; the paymaster has not 
 a single dollar in hand. The commissary- 
 general assures me he has strained his 
 credit for the subsistence of the army to 
 the utmost. The quartermaster-general 
 is precisely in the same situation ; and 
 the greater part of the troops are in a 
 state riot far from mutiny, upon the de 
 duction from their stated allowance." 
 
 Nor were these the only troubles against 
 which Washington had to contend. All 
 New England was disaffected toward him, 
 because he refused to send out detach 
 ments from his army to protect the towns 
 along the coast from the marauding par 
 ties of the enemy. " I would like to ex 
 tend protection to all," he said, " but the 
 numerous detachments necessary to rem 
 edy the evil would amount to a dissolu 
 tion of the army, or make the most im 
 portant operations of the campaign de 
 pend upon the piratical expeditions of 
 two or three men-of-war and transports." 
 The British, in the meantime, with their 
 small cruisers, were doing a good deal of 
 mischief by sailing into the harbors and 
 helping themselves to supplies, of which 
 they stood greatly in need. The local 
 militia, however, soon became watchful, 
 
ftF.VOLUTIOXARY.] 
 
 BURNING OF FALMOUTH. 
 
 215 
 
 and so well able to defend themselves, 
 that the enemy were often disappointed, 
 and seldom succeeded in their object with 
 out a hard and bloody struggle. 
 
 The British troops in Boston were not 
 more actively occupied than the besieg 
 ers without. A change, however, in the 
 chief command was an event which ex 
 cited no little interest. Governor Gage 
 was recalled, and sailed for England on 
 the 10th of October, leaving Gen 
 eral Howe as his successor. Howe 
 was in favor (as Gage had been) of an 
 evacuation of Boston, and in his despatch 
 es to the government advised large rein 
 forcements, and a transfer of military op 
 erations to New York. In the meantime, 
 he prepared to " distress the rebels by in 
 cursions along the coast." With this view, 
 one of his first acts was, to send out a 
 small armed squadron, under a Lieuten 
 ant Mo watt, against Falmouth (now Port 
 land), the authorities of which had given 
 great offence by preventing the sailing 
 of a ship loaded with some tories and 
 their property. Mowatt appeared before 
 the town in the night, and, sending word 
 to the inhabitants that he would allow 
 them two hours to remove themselves, 
 determined to burn it. A committee of 
 citizens was immediately appointed to 
 confer with the lieutenant, who told them, 
 on their arrival on board his ship, that 
 his orders were to fire every town on 
 the coast between Boston and Halifax, 
 and that he had no alternative but obe 
 dience. 
 
 A respite was, however, at the earnest 
 solicitation of the citizens, granted until 
 the next morning, when the committee 
 
 again made their appearance, and prayed 
 that their town might be spared. Mow 
 att offered to do so, provided they would 
 send him off four carriage-guns, deliver 
 up all their arms and ammunition, and four 
 prominent citizens as hostages. These 
 conditions were, however, considered too 
 dishonorable to comply with. The com 
 mittee then returned on shore, and the 
 lieutenant hoisted his signal for the at- 
 tack to commence. The squadron now 
 began to throw its bombs into the town, 
 and the firing continued until the close 
 of the day, when most of the houses were 
 destroyed. The burning of Falmouth 
 spread an alarm all over the New-Eng 
 land coast, but produced no disposition 
 to submit to British arms. The indigna 
 tion it excited, in fact, only served to give 
 greater intensity to the resistance of the 
 patriots. " Oh," wrote General Greene, 
 " could the Congress behold the distres 
 ses and wretched condition of the poor in 
 habitants driven from the seaport towns, 
 it would kindle a blaze of indignation 
 against the commissioned pirates and li 
 censed robbers People," he adds, " be 
 gin heartily to wish a declaration of in 
 dependence." 
 
 Howe, in his despatch to the govern 
 ment, " hoped Portsmouth, in New Hamp 
 shire, would feel the weight of his majes 
 ty s arms;" and the inhabitants of that 
 place, as well as of Newport, in Rhode 
 Island, were in daily expectation of being 
 served as had been the people of Falmouth. 
 The patriots now began, under an act of 
 the general court of Massachusetts, to fit 
 out privateers for the defence of the sea- 
 coast, and were soon able to take revenge 
 
216 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 upon the British cruisers for their cruel 
 devastations. 
 
 Although Howe had resolved upon 
 keeping quiet at present within Boston, 
 he took care to find w r ork for his men. 
 He strengthened his fortifications on Bun 
 ker s and Breed s hills, where General 
 Clinton had now the command, and add 
 ed to those on Charlestown neck, where 
 he set six hundred men to labor. Within 
 the city, houses were pulled down to clear 
 space for the exercise of the troops ; re 
 doubts were built on the common ; and 
 the meetinghouse "where sedition had 
 been often preached" was made K a riding- 
 house for the light dragoons." 
 
 How r e did not confine himself to in 
 sulting those of the patriots still left in 
 Boston, but persecuted them with all the 
 rigor of martial law. In his proclama 
 tions he spoke of some who had escaped 
 to Cambridge as those who had "lately 
 absconded to join his majesty s enemies, 
 assembled in open rebellion," and declared 
 his determination to punish with " mili 
 tary execution" any who should attempt 
 to follow their example. Those who suc 
 ceeded he pronounced traitors, who were 
 to be treated accordingly by a " seizure 
 of their goods and effects." These harsh 
 proceedings led to retaliation on the part 
 of the patriots ; and, by a general order 
 from Washington, those officers of gov 
 ernment known to be devoted to the 
 throne were seized and imprisoned. 
 
 Congress having appointed a commit 
 tee to visit the camp at Cambridge, and 
 confer with Washington and the various 
 delegates from the provinces of New Eng 
 land in regard to the reorganization of 
 
 Oct. 15, 
 
 the army, the three gentlemen 
 who composed it now arrived. 
 These were, Benjamin Franklin, of Penn 
 sylvania ; Thomas Lynch, of South Caro 
 lina ; and Colonel Benjamin Harrison, of 
 Virginia. Franklin was regarded by all 
 as an example of prudence and an oracle 
 of wisdom. " I had the honor," says Gen 
 eral Greene, of Ehocle Island, " to be in 
 troduced to that very great man Doctor 
 Franklin, whom I viewed with silent ad 
 miration during the whole evening," and 
 adds, in his enthusiastic rhetoric, " Atten 
 tion watched his lips and conviction closed 
 his periods." The conference committee 
 immediately began their sessions, with 
 Washington as president, and Joseph 
 Reed as secretary. The first question 
 was, the new organization of the army ; 
 and the satisfactory result was, the adop 
 tion of a plan for the enlistment, for one 
 year, of twenty-six regiments, of eight 
 companies each, besides riflemen and ar 
 tillery, based upon the respective capaci 
 ties of the colonies as stated by the dele 
 gates. This would give an effective force 
 of twenty-two thousand, two hundred and 
 seventy-two men and officers, whom it was 
 proposed, as far as possible, to recruit from 
 those already in service, that the army 
 might not be altogether composed of un 
 disciplined and inexperienced troops. 
 
 The subject of the inactivity of the 
 present army now came up, and the pro 
 priety of an immediate attack on Boston 
 was discussed. Washington formally put 
 the question as to whether he should at 
 tack the British, at the expense of the 
 destruction of the city. The delegates 
 preferred that so important a matter 
 
REVOLUTIOXARY.J 
 
 COUNCIL OF WAR. 
 
 217 
 
 should be left to the decision of Congress. 
 A council of his officers had been previ 
 ously held, at which Washington declared 
 he had summoned them in consequence 
 of having learned that Congress desired 
 an attack upon Boston, if practicable. 
 Their opinions are best given in their 
 own words : 
 
 GENERAL GATES. " That under present 
 circumstances it is improper to attempt 
 it." 
 
 GENERAL GREENE. " That it is not prac 
 ticable, under all circumstances ; but, if 
 ten thousand men could be landed at Bos 
 ton, thinks it is." 
 
 GENERAL SULLIVAN. " That at this time 
 it is improper. The winter gives a more 
 favorable opportunity." 
 
 GENERAL HEATH. " Impracticable at 
 present." 
 
 GENERAL THOMAS. " Of the same opin 
 ion." 
 
 GENERAL PUTNAM. "Disapproves of it 
 at present." 
 
 GENERAL LEE. " Is not sufficiently ac 
 quainted witli the men, to judge ; there 
 fore thinks it too great a risk." 
 
 GENERAL WARD. "Against it." 
 
 Such were the opinions of the gener 
 als, with whom Washington also agreed ; 
 but the delegates, although hesitating to 
 decide upon the question, were for the 
 most part in favor of an attack. Doctor 
 Belknap dined with a party of general 
 officers and gentlemen belonging to the 
 various committees, when the absorbing 
 topic naturally became the subject of 
 after-dinner conversation. The doctor 
 tells us that Lynch, Harrison, and Wales, 
 wished to see Boston in flames. Lee told 
 28 
 
 them it was impossible to burn it unless 
 they sent men in with bundles of straw 
 on their backs to do it. He said it could 
 not be done with carcass and hot shot; 
 and instanced the Isle Royal, in St. Law 
 rence river, "which was fired at in 1760 
 a long time, with a fine train of artillery, 
 hot shot, and carcasses, without effect." 
 
 The delegates now returned home. 
 Their presence had given increased en 
 couragement to the patriots in arms. 
 Franklin s devotion to the public inter 
 ests was especially appreciated, as his 
 comprehensive policy and systematic bu 
 siness-habits enabled him to suggest plans 
 that were not only grand, but feasible. 
 He had an opportunity, moreover, of at 
 tending to a little private business, and 
 succeeded in obtaining from the Massa 
 chusetts general court the sum of eigh 
 teen hundred and fifty-four pounds ster 
 ling, as payment in full of his services 
 while acting as agent in England for the 
 colony. " The doctor might," says a con 
 temporary, "have liked specie, at the time 
 such grants were made, better than the 
 present paper-money; but his foresight 
 will undoubtedly transform the latter into 
 some solid substance !" Franklin, how 
 ever, had to make, from the handsome 
 sum which he was paid, a deduction of 
 one hundred pounds in favor of a com 
 mittee "appointed to wait upon him with 
 in a day or two, being the amount of a 
 sum sent by several persons in England, 
 for the relief of those Americans who were 
 wounded in the battle of Lexington, and 
 of the widows and children of those who 
 were there slain." 
 
 The greatest consternation was created 
 
218 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 in the camp at Cambridge, by the sup 
 posed discovery of a treasonable 
 Oct. 15, f , .,, 
 
 correspondence 01 a hitherto un 
 suspected patriot with the enemy. Early 
 in July, a woman presented herself at 
 Newport, to a Mr. Wainwood, with a let 
 ter, which she wished him to aid her in 
 conveying to Captain Wallace, the British 
 officer in command of the man-of-war off 
 the harbor. Wainwood, who was a patri 
 ot, was suspicious of any correspondence 
 with the enemy; but, concealing his 
 thoughts, he prevailed upon the woman 
 to leave the letter with him. She was 
 induced to do so, and Wainwood imme 
 diately advised with a friend, upon whose 
 recommendation the letter was broken 
 open, and found to be written in charac 
 ters entirely unintelligible. Thus the 
 matter remained until Wainwood, having 
 received a note from the woman, inqui 
 ring about the disposition of the letter, 
 had his suspicions reawakened, and it was 
 then determined to send it to Washing 
 ton. 
 
 The woman, on again presenting her 
 self in the camp, was arrested. " Tradi 
 tion," says Irving, "gives us a graphic 
 scene connected with her arrest. Wash 
 ington was in his chamber at headquar 
 ters, when he beheld from his window 
 General Putnam approaching on horse 
 back, with a stout woman en croupe be 
 hind 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 ^hicli he was known to laugh hearti 
 ly. He had recovered his gravity by the 
 
 time the delinquent was brought to the 
 foot of the broad staircase in headquar 
 ters, and assured her, in a severe tone 
 from the head of it, that unless she con 
 fessed everything before the next morn 
 ing, a halter would be in readiness for 
 her." 
 
 The woman for a long time resisted 
 every attempt to extort the truth from 
 her; but finally she confessed that the 
 letter had been given to her by Doctor 
 Church, of whom, in fact, she was said to 
 be the " kept mistress." Church was a 
 prominent man among the patriots, being 
 a member of the Massachusetts house of 
 representatives, and surgeon-general of 
 the army-hospitals. On being arrested, 
 and confronted with the charge of trea 
 sonable correspondence with the enemy, 
 he was greatly agitated, and showed ev 
 ery mark of guilt. The letter having 
 been successfully deciphered, and found 
 to contain little beyond an exaggerated 
 account of the American force, the doc 
 tor wrote to Washington a vindication of 
 himself, stating that his object was mere 
 ly to use his efforts in bringing about an 
 accommodation of the dispute with the 
 mother-country, and that he was entirely 
 innocent of any traitorous design. He 
 was now brought before a coun 
 cil of war, which, unable to sat 
 isfy itself of his innocence, unanimously 
 decided upon referring the matter to the 
 Congress. 
 
 The legislature of Massachusetts then 
 "summoned Church before the bar of the 
 house, and the doctor made a long speech 
 in his defence. He endeavored to evade 
 the censure of the house, by insisting that 
 
 Get, 23, 
 
Rl-.VOLUTIONATCY.J 
 
 THE PROVINCIAL FLEET. 
 
 219 
 
 Oct. 27, 
 
 as the affair would be before an 
 
 other court, where the matter 
 must have a final issue, should the house 
 proceed to expel him, it would have a 
 fatal effect whenever a final judgment 
 was to be given on his conduct. He 
 made the most solemn appeal to Heaven 
 that the letter was written with the de 
 sign of procuring some important intelli 
 gence. He observed that there was not 
 
 o 
 
 a single paragraph in it which contained 
 information that could hurt the Ameri 
 cans ; and that the exaggerated accounts 
 of their force, strength, and unanimity, 
 tended to dishearten the enemy and keep 
 them quiet, a,t a time when the Ameri 
 cans, for want of powder, were poorly 
 able to have withstood a vigorous attack. 
 " If the force of rhetoric and the powers 
 of language," says a contemporary, "if 
 the most pathetic arts of persuasion, en 
 forced by all the ingenuity, sense, and 
 spirit of the doctor, could have made him 
 innocent, he would have appeared spot 
 less as an angel of light." The house, 
 however,w r as not convinced, and expelled 
 him. Congress inflicted the punishment, 
 resolving " that he be close confined in 
 some secure jail in Connecticut, without 
 the use of pen, ink, and 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 coun 
 ty." The doctor was accordingly clapped 
 into the jail at Norwich, whence he was 
 subsequently released, on the plea of ill 
 health, and removed to Boston, where his 
 personal liberty was given him on his 
 parole, backed by a surety of one thou 
 sand pounds, that he would hold no cor 
 
 respondence with the enemy, or leave 
 the colony without permission. He was 
 eventually allowed to depart for the West 
 Indies, but the vessel in which he sailed 
 was never heard of afterward. 
 
 The legislative assemblies of the vari 
 ous New-England provinces had author 
 ized at an early period the fitting out of 
 small armed vessels; and several w r ere 
 now in commission, doing effective ser 
 vice in protecting the coasts against the 
 British cruisers. Washington, having re 
 ceived instructions from Congress to en 
 deavor to capture the transports laden 
 with supplies for the army at Boston, and 
 especially " two north country built ships 
 with military stores," began to fit out a 
 small fleet, and succeeded toward the end 
 of October in having six schooners in com 
 mission. These were the Lynch, Captain 
 Broughton, and the Franklin, Captain 
 Sellman, which were ordered to the St. 
 Lawrence ; the Lee, Captain Manly, the 
 Warren, Captain Adams, the Washington, 
 Captain Martindale, and the Harrison, 
 Captain Coit, sent to cruise about the 
 coast. Washington felt a great interest in 
 this humble naval movement as a means 
 of obtaining supplies, for he writes, " I am 
 in very great want of powder, lead, mor 
 tars indeed, of most sorts of military 
 stores." Efforts had been made, and not 
 without success, to supply the army with 
 ammunition, but still the quantity fell 
 short of what would be needed in a pro 
 tracted campaign. The manufacture oi 
 saltpetre had been commenced in every 
 colony, and powder-mills had been erect 
 ed at Philadelphia and New York. A 
 ! hundred barrels of gunpowder had also 
 
220 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART H. 
 
 been received from Bermuda, by a cou 
 ple of coasting-schooners, the crews of 
 which had succeeded in landing on that 
 island in the night, and rifling the maga 
 zine, at some distance from the town, of 
 its contents. Some of the inhabitants, 
 with a favorable disposition toward the 
 American patriots, were supposed to have 
 connived at or aided in the proceeding ; 
 and Congress responded to their friend 
 liness by this grateful resolve : " That the 
 inhabitants of Bermuda appear friendly 
 to the cause of America, and ought to be 
 supplied with such a quantity of the prod 
 uce of these colonies as may be necessa 
 ry for their subsistence and home con 
 sumption." 
 
 Washington s little fleet was not en 
 tirely successful. One or two were lost, 
 from the inexperience of the officers ; and 
 another was taken by the enemy, and the 
 captain and crew sent to England. The 
 Lee, however, under Captain Manly, vin 
 dicated the "pine-tree flag"- for this, 
 which was composed of a white ground, 
 a pine-tree in the middle, and the motto 
 " We appeal to Heaven," was the stand 
 ard hoisted upon the floating batteries, 
 and adopted by the colonial fleet. We 
 shall see, in the progress of events, the 
 fortunate result of Manly s cruise. 
 
 There was a good deal of suffering in 
 the camp at Cambridge, from sickness, 
 which a chronicler of the times quaintly 
 accounts for : " Many of the Americans," 
 says he, " have sickened and died of the 
 dysentery, brought upon them, in a great 
 measure, through an inattention to clean 
 liness. When at home, their female rela 
 tions put them upon washing their hands 
 
 and faces, and keeping themselves neat 
 and clean ; but, being absent from such 
 monitors, through an indolent, heedless 
 turn of mind, they have neglected the 
 means of health, have grown filthy, and 
 poisoned their constitution by nastiness." 
 The weather, too, was becoming very 
 cold ; and the soldiers, with insufficient 
 barracks, and a want of wood, were great 
 ly exposed. Several regiments were 
 obliged to keep the field, and some were 
 tented in bleak positions upon the high 
 tops of hills, where it was difficult to drag 
 up what supplies of fuel they could get. 
 The camp, however, with all this suf 
 fering of the soldiers, and their by no 
 means presentable condition, if we are to 
 believe the chronicler just quoted, was 
 cheered by the presence of " gentlemen, 
 ladies, and others, from neighboring and 
 distant colonies, attracted by curiosity." 
 A number of native gentlemen, too, ar 
 rived : these were Indian chiefs, who had 
 come to see and judge for themselves how 
 far the stories which they had heard iu 
 their own wigwams of the quarrel of the 
 Americans with King George were true. 
 Washington received them at headquar 
 ters with great consideration, and they 
 were entertained by him and his officers 
 with a banquet and a ball. Two of the 
 Indians had with them their squaws, who 
 were remarkably well -looking women, 
 making all allowance for their very dark 
 complexions. They both joined their 
 husbands at the ball at headquarters, and 
 were much admired, although one seemed 
 rather low-spirited, from having recently 
 lost a papoose. When the Indians danced 
 in company with the American gentle- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ARMY MANNERS AND MORALS. 
 
 221 
 
 men and ladies, both the chiefs and their 
 squaws kept time with the greatest pre 
 cision, and showed an example of grace 
 and dignity by which Washington and 
 his Virginian friends thought that some 
 of their New-England associates might 
 benefit. 
 
 At that time, in fact, in the early days 
 of anticipated independence, there was 
 great room for improvement in the man 
 ners of even the officers. Many of them, 
 elected by their own troops, allowed them 
 selves to be treated too much as equals 
 by the men ; and the captain or the lieu 
 tenant carried his ideas of behavior from 
 the ranks, where they were naturally pop 
 ular, to headquarters, where, under the 
 strict regime of the formal Washington, 
 they were not by any means so attrac 
 tive. 
 
 Many of the higher officers felt as 
 Montgomery wrote, from Canada: "1 
 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 ren 
 der the troops much more tractable. 
 There were worse faults, however, than 
 bad manners. Gordon says : " It is a mor 
 tifying truth that some of the Massachu 
 setts officers disgrace the colony by prac 
 tising the meanest arts of speculation. 
 Every subtlety that avarice can invent, 
 or rascality carry on, are used to cheat 
 the public, by men who procured commis 
 sions, not to fight for the liberty of their 
 country, but to prey upon its distresses. 
 The army about to be enlisted will un 
 doubtedly be better officered." 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Want of Officers and Men. Washington s Troubles. The Tailors set to work in the Army. A Spirited Affair. inf 
 British in search of Beef. The Schooner Lee and Captain Manly. A Capture. Its Welcome in Congress. Anec 
 dote. " Old Put" acting Godfather to a Big Gun. The Difficulties of Enlistment. The Desertion of the Connecticut 
 and Massachusetts Men. Arrival of Mrs. Washington. Its Effect at Headquarters. Indian Guests. "Bows and 
 Scrapes." Ground broken at Lechmere s Point. A Sanguine Colonel. The American Camp unusually prosperous. 
 Plenty to eat. An American Fleet organized. The Brutal Wallace. His llaids upon the American Coast. His 
 Conduct at Newport. General Lee sent to Rhode Island. Lee s Conduct. Life and Character of Lee. His Pro 
 fanity. 
 
 1775, 
 
 WASHINGTON was in hopes that 
 his forces might be "better, offi 
 cered," and strove to effect so desirable 
 an object, now that he was engaged in 
 reorganizing the army, in accordance 
 with the decision of Congress. He was, 
 however, perplexed not only how to get 
 " better," but any officers at all, or even 
 
 men. As the number of regiments was 
 to be reduced under the new arrange 
 ment, and the officers necessarily dimin 
 ished, Washington was desirous of select 
 ing those that were best qualified. He 
 found great difficulty from both officers 
 and men. The first were clamorous for 
 high rank ; and the latter were insisting 
 
222 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART n. 
 
 Nov. 28, 
 
 upon being subjected only to the com 
 mand of those whom they themselves 
 should choose. After completing his list 
 of officers, he had hoped to have succeed 
 ed readily in recruiting his new army out 
 of his present forces, but was greatly dis 
 appointed in finding so few disposed to 
 re-enlist. 
 
 Colonel Reed had resigned his post, and 
 was now at Philadelphia ; but Washing 
 ton, strongly attached to him, kept up 
 an intimate correspondence, in which he 
 opened his heart to his former secretary. 
 K Such dearth of public spirit," he emphat 
 ically writes to Reed, " and such 
 want of virtue ; such stockjob 
 bing, and fertility in all the low arts to 
 obtain advantage of one kind or another 
 in this great change of military arrange 
 ments, 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 
 manoeuvres is beyond my scan. I trem 
 ble at the prospect. We have been till 
 this time 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 enlist 
 ed 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 hap 
 pen Could I have foreseen what I 
 
 have experienced and am likely to expe 
 rience, no consideration upon earth should 
 have induced me to accept this command." 
 
 General Greene was disposed to think 
 the commander-in-chief somewhat incon 
 siderate in his judgment of the New-Eng- 
 landers, and wrote : " His excellency has 
 been taught to believe the people here 
 a superior race of mortals ; and finding 
 them of the same temper and disposi 
 tions, passions and prejudices, virtues and 
 vices of the common people of other gov 
 ernments, they sank in his esteem." 
 
 Washington, however, perplexed as he 
 was, steadily resolved to overcome all ob 
 stacles, and reorganize an army. He was 
 desirous, too, of giving his men more of 
 the appearance of soldiers, and issued an 
 order in which he recommended the non 
 commissioned officers and- soldiers to lay 
 out their money in shirts, shoes, stock 
 ings, and a good pair of leather breeches, 
 and not in coats and waistcoats, as it was 
 intended that the new army should be 
 clothed in uniform ; to effect which, the 
 order declared that the Congress would 
 lay in goods upon the best terms they 
 could be obtained anywhere for ready 
 money, and that they would be sold to 
 the troops without any profit, and thus 
 enable each soldier to get a uniform coat 
 and waistcoat cheaper than any other 
 kind. The written order then closed with 
 the notice that " a number of tailors will 
 be immediately set to work to make regi 
 mentals for those brave men who are wil 
 ling at all hazards to defend their inval 
 uable rights and privileges." 
 
 Notwithstanding Washington s com 
 plaints of the backwardness of his troops 
 generally in re-enlisting, he had occasion 
 to be gratified by the spirited conduct of 
 some of them in a slight affair which oc- 
 
KEVOLT7TIONARY.] 
 
 A SPIRITED AFFAIR. 
 
 223 
 
 Nov. 9, 
 
 curred with the enemy. Some four hun 
 dred British soldiers, under Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Clark,landed on Phipps s 
 farm, at Lechmere s point, with 
 a view of making a raid upon the cattle 
 there, for the benefit of the half-starved 
 troops and people in Boston, where such 
 was the scarcity of provisions, that beef, 
 mutton, and pork, had risen to one shil 
 ling and a penny halfpenny sterling the 
 pound ; geese ten shillings and fowls five 
 shillings apiece ; while half a guinea was 
 asked for a dozen of eggs. Owing to the 
 high tide which overflowed the causeway 
 that led from the camp, and prevented 
 the Americans from crossing, the British 
 were left for an hour or more without in 
 terference, when they employed them 
 selves shooting the cattle, with the view 
 of making off with the carcasses. Colonel 
 Thompson, with a regiment of American 
 riflemen, was ordered to displace the in 
 vaders. The tide was still high, but the 
 Colonel ordered his troops to the attack ; 
 and the men for the most part (though 
 some hesitated) plunged readily into the 
 water breast-high, and waded a quarter 
 of a mile in the face of a fire from a man- 
 of-war and several floating batteries, which 
 covered the British marauders. As the 
 Americans advanced, the enemy hastened 
 to their boats, with a booty of ten cows, 
 but leaving two of their men killed by 
 the fire of the riflemen, whose alacrity on 
 the occasion was highly extolled by Wash 
 ington, though he reprimanded the back 
 wardness of others, and some of the offi 
 cers for the unmilitary appearance and 
 conduct of their regiments. A Major 
 Mifflin, who "flew about as though he 
 
 Nov. 30, 
 
 would have raised a whole army," came 
 in for a large share of the honor of the 
 day by his active gallantry. 
 
 The whole camp was IIOAV in a high 
 tide of cheerful excitement, in conse 
 quence of the success of Captain 
 Manly with his armed schooner 
 the Lee. Several British vessels had al 
 ready been captured and taken safely in 
 to harbor, when, as he was cruising on 
 the coast, Manly fell in with and took 
 the brig Nancy, an ordnance-ship from 
 Woolwich, full of everything in the great 
 est abundance that was necessary for 
 camps and artillery. There was found 
 on board a large brass mortar, of a new 
 construction ; two thousand muskets ; sev 
 eral pieces of fine brass cannon ; one hun 
 dred thousand flints ; thirty thousand 
 round shot ; thirty tons and more of mus 
 ket-shot ; plenty of powder, and "all man 
 ner of tools, utensils, and machines." 
 
 This anecdote illustrates the welcome 
 with which this capture was received. The 
 naval committee of the Congress was in 
 secret session, deliberating on the means 
 of obtaining certain small articles which 
 were indispensable to the equipment of 
 vessels-of-war, but which were not to be 
 had in the country, when a clamor for 
 admittance at the door interrupted the 
 proceedings. Admittance was denied, but 
 the intruder insisted on entering. The 
 door was finally opened, when a gentle 
 man appeared, with an inventory of the 
 stores found in the captured brig Nancy, 
 and among which were the very articles 
 wanted. When the fact was ascertained, 
 Mr. Adams arose and exclaimed with his 
 wonted earnestness : " We must succeed 
 
224 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Providence is with us we must suc 
 ceed!" 
 
 The Nancy was carried into Cape Ann, 
 and her cargo conveyed thence to the 
 camp at Cambridge. Great was the ex 
 ultation on its arrival. " Such universal 
 joy," writes an officer, " ran through the 
 whole camp as if each grasped victory in 
 his hand. To crown the glorious scene, 
 there intervened one truly ludicrous 
 which was, Old Put mounted on the large 
 mortar, which was fixed in its bed for the 
 occasion, with a bottle of rum in his hand, 
 standing parson to christen, while God 
 father Mifflin gave it the name of Con 
 gress. The huzzas on the occasion, I 
 dare say, were heard through all the ter 
 ritories of our most gracious sovereign in 
 this province." 
 
 The " huzzas on the occasion" were at 
 any rate heard in Boston, where the offi 
 cers spitefully remarked that, "should 
 their expected reinforcements arrive in 
 time, the rebels would pay dear in the 
 spring for all their petty triumphs." Man 
 ly continued his successes on the coast 
 until he became a terror to every Brit 
 ish vessel. A man-of-war was sent out in 
 pursuit of him, but he escaped by run 
 ning his vessel ashore in Gloucester har 
 bor, where the enemy, after firing broad 
 side after broadside at him, was obliged 
 by the spirit of Manly s crew, aided by 
 the inhabitants, to leave him, after the 
 British ship had lost nearly one half of 
 its men. Manly got his schooner afloat 
 soon after, and again sailed on a cruise. 
 
 Washington was still greatly annoyed 
 by the conduct of his troops in regard 
 to re-enlistment. The Connecticut regi 
 
 ments refused to serve after their time, 
 Avhich would soon expire, unless they re 
 ceived a bounty. This was refused, and 
 they became mutinous, declaring that 
 they would quit the camp. Washington, 
 to meet the emergency, determined to 
 make a requisition upon the general court 
 of Massachusetts for reinforcements. This 
 body, in answer to the demand, promptly 
 voted that three thousand of the minute- 
 men of Massachusetts and two thousand 
 of New-Hampshire should be called out 
 and ordered to present themselves in the 
 camp 011 the 10th of December. This 
 was the period at which the service of 
 most of the Connecticut troops would ex 
 pire, and they were ordered to remain 
 until then. Their officers confidently ex 
 pressed their belief that not a man would 
 disobey ; but they were disappointed and 
 greatly chagrined to find that the order 
 had hardly been given out, when the men 
 began to desert. 
 
 " Yesterday morning," writes Washing 
 ton, " most of them resolved to 
 leave the camp ; many went offj 
 and the utmost vigilance and industry 
 were used to apprehend them ; several 
 got away with their arms and ammuni 
 tion." They had suffered greatly, it is 
 true, from the intensity of the cold, and 
 the want of necessities with which they 
 ought to have been better supplied. The 
 army, however, and the country were not 
 disposed to justify, under any circum 
 stances, the desertion of their cause in 
 the time of its agony ; and as the desert 
 ers made their straggling way to Con 
 necticut, they were hooted and treated 
 with other significant marks of opprobri- 
 
 Dec, 2, 
 
R K VOLUTIOXA R Y. J 
 
 ARRIVAL OF MRS. WASHINGTON. 
 
 225 
 
 inn, in every town and village through 
 which they passed. They were not se 
 cure from reproach even at their own 
 firesides ; and the scolding of wives, and 
 the averted glances of sweethearts, drove 
 and shamed many a deserter back again 
 to duty. 
 
 That the Connecticut men were not 
 alone in their reluctance to serve al 
 though more recreant than others, by 
 their open desertion appears from the 
 records of the time. " The Massachusetts 
 people," says a chronicler, "show as much 
 backwardness as the others. In short, 
 they expect to be hired, and that at a 
 very high price, to defend their own lib 
 erties ; and choose to be slaves unless 
 they can be bribed to be freemen. Quid 
 facit libertas, cum sola pecunia regnat ? Ho w 
 must it afflict General Washington to 
 observe in the present crisis so little of 
 that patriotic spirit which he was taught 
 to believe was the characteristic of the 
 Massachusetts people, and on which he 
 relied greatly for support ! . . . . 
 
 " While burdened with an apprehen 
 sion that he might possibly be deserted, 
 he could recollect the severity of the sea 
 son, and the distresses of his fellow-crea 
 tures at a distance, and wrote to the gen 
 tleman with whom he had intrusted the 
 management of his concerns at Mount 
 Vernon; Let the hospitality of the house 
 be kept up with respect to the poor. Let 
 no one go hungry away. If any of this 
 kind of people should be in want of corn, 
 supply their necessities, provided it does 
 net encourage them in idleness. I have 
 no objection to your giving my money 
 in charity, when you think it will be well 
 
 29 
 
 1775. 
 
 bestowed. I mean it is my desire that 
 it should be done. You are to consider 
 that neither myself nor wife are now in 
 the way to do these good offices. " 
 
 His wife, as this letter indicates, was 
 now with Washington at headquarters, 
 where she had arrived on the llth of De 
 cember, with her son John Parke 
 Custis. The coming in of the "gen 
 eral s lady" was quite an event in the 
 camp ; and the plain New-England pro 
 vincials did not fail to remark upon the 
 grand style of the Virginian dame, who 
 drove into Cambridge with a chariot-and- 
 four, with negro postillions in scarlet-and- 
 white liveries. Her presence greatly en 
 livened headquarters, and invitations to 
 dinner with the general became more fre 
 quent after she began to rule the house 
 hold. Her example, too, had a cheering 
 influence upon others of the " best socie 
 ty" of the camp; and party succeeded par 
 ty, night after night, during the gloomy 
 month of December. Adjutant-General 
 Mifflin, who, though bred up with the for 
 malities of Quakerism, had received a 
 dash of liveliness from a residence in 
 France, was prominent among the gayest 
 of the officers, and provoked the conviv 
 iality of the camp by frequent invitations 
 to supper and dinner. "I dined," says 
 John Adams, " at Colonel Mifflin s, with 
 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 po 
 lite in the Indian style. I was introduced 
 to them by the general as one of the 
 
226 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 Dec. 13, 
 
 grand council at Philadelphia, which made 
 them prick up their ears. They came 
 and shook hands with me, and made 
 many low bows and scrapes."* 
 
 Massachusetts and New Hampshire had 
 come nobly to the rescue on the desertion 
 of the Connecticut regiments, and the re 
 cruits came in rapidly from these prov 
 inces. Washington was quite inspirited, 
 and wrote : " I have the satisfac 
 tion to tell you that things wear 
 a better complexion here than they have 
 done for some time past. The army is 
 filling up. The barracks go on well. Fire 
 wood comes in. The soldiers are made 
 comfortable and easy. Our privateers 
 meet with success in bringing in vessels 
 that were going to the relief of Boston." 
 Washington, reinforced with new troops, 
 and encouraged by the better spirit of 
 the men, was enabled now to proceed 
 vigorously with his defences. 
 
 The American general carried his ap 
 proaches to within half a mile of Boston, 
 and broke ground at Lechrnere s point. 
 The enemy did not attempt any hinder- 
 ance, and allowed the Americans to pro 
 ceed with their works for several days 
 without firing a shot. This puzzled Wash 
 ington, who could not understand their 
 object, unless it was to lull him into a fatal 
 security. He was, however, on the alert, 
 for it only increased his vigilance, and in 
 duced him to fortify all the advances to 
 
 * Irving, who quotes this extract, remarks upon the 
 " bows and scrapes" with which Adams states the Indians 
 received him, that it is a kind of homage never paid by an 
 Indian warrior. If, however, Irving admits the " shaking 
 of hands," he might concede to the savages the further 
 progress in civilized politeness of "bows and scrapes," es 
 pecially on calling to mind that the Indians were French 
 Caughnawagas. 
 
 the camp, and to guard any approaches 
 upon the ice. He was in hourly expec 
 tation of an attack. The work contin 
 ued, notwithstanding ; and the men had 
 succeeded in constructing a causeway 
 over the marsh, nearly to Lechmere s 
 point, when the enemy s ships and batte 
 ries at last began to fire. The Americans 
 were driven away, with one man wound 
 ed, and did not renew their labors until 
 the next morning, when the British man- 
 of-war was forced by the artillery in the 
 camp to shift its moorings. The British 
 batteries, however, still played upon the 
 spot ; but the men, growing familiar with 
 the bombs which were bursting and scat 
 tering the dirt over them, and learning 
 how to dodge them as the sentinels cried 
 out, " A shot !" continued their labors : 
 so that, in spite of the snow, the frozen 
 ground, and the dangerous proximity of 
 the enemy, there were soon two redoubts 
 built on Lechmere s point, with a cause 
 way and a covered approach leading to 
 them. " Give us powder and authority," 
 says an enthusiastic colonel, " I say give 
 us these, and Boston can be set in flames." 
 So important did he, as in fact all his 
 comrades, esteem these new works. 
 
 Everything seemed now unusually pros 
 perous in the camp. The soldiers were 
 supplied with abundant food getting 
 corned beef and pork four days, fresh beel 
 two days, and salt fish one day, in the 
 week ; a quart of spruce-beer, or an equiv 
 alent in molasses daily, in the way of li 
 quid refreshment ; and fair proportions 
 of such delicacies as rice, Indian meal, 
 hog s lard, and butter, on stated occasions. 
 A spectator describes the appearance of 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 PROVINCIAL FLEET. 
 
 227 
 
 the American camp with enthusiasm : 
 "About two months ago," he says, "I 
 visited the camps at Roxbury and Cam 
 bridge. The lines of both are impregna 
 ble; with forts (many of which are bomb 
 proof) and the redoubts, supposing them 
 to be all in a direction, are about twenty 
 miles; the breastworks of a proper height, 
 and in many places seventeen feet in 
 thickness ; the trenches wide and deep in 
 proportion, before which lay forked im 
 pediments ; and many of the forts, in ev 
 ery respect, are perfectly ready for bat 
 tle. The whole, in a word, the admira 
 tion of every spectator ; for verily their 
 fortifications appear to be the works of 
 seven years, instead of about as many 
 months. At these camps are about twen 
 ty thousand men. The generals and other 
 officers, in all their military undertakings, 
 solid, discreet, and courageous ; the men 
 daily raving for action, and seemingly 
 devoid of fear. There are many floating- 
 batteries, and batteaux in abundance ; 
 besides this strength, ten thousand mili 
 tia are ordered in that government to 
 appear on the first summons. Provisions 
 and money there are very plenty, and 
 the soldiers faithfully paid. The army 
 in great order, and very healthy, and 
 about six weeks ago lodged in com 
 fortable barracks. Chaplains constantly 
 attend the camps morning and night; 
 prayers are often offered up for peace 
 and reconciliation, and the soldiers very 
 attentive. The roads at the time I viewed 
 the camps were almost lined with spec 
 tators, and thousands with me can declare 
 the above respecting the camps to be a 
 just description." 
 
 Dec, 13. 
 
 Congress had determined upon the or 
 ganization of a fleet, and had or 
 dered five ships of thirty-two 
 guns, five of twenty-eight, and three of 
 twenty-four, to be built; but while these 
 were in process of construction, the coasts 
 of New England suffered greatly from 
 the British cruisers. The American pri 
 vateers were on the alert, but being of 
 small force and few r in number, were (al 
 though some continued to give a good 
 account of themselves) unable to effect 
 much against the powerful English squad 
 ron, which continued its depredations 
 along the coast from the St. Lawrence to 
 the bay of New York. Rhode Island had 
 been a great sufferer, and now called up 
 on Washington for aid to protect her har 
 bors from the severe exactions of a Brit 
 ish naval captain, Wallace. 
 
 Wallace was a brutal fellow, who had 
 been long on the coast, and was notori 
 ous in America, even before the war, for 
 his coarseness and insolence. Being asked 
 once by the mistress of a boarding-house 
 in Philadelphia, where he happened to be 
 a lodger, if he would be helped to a dish 
 before her, Wallace replied, "Damrne, 
 madam, it is to be supposed that at a pub 
 lic table every man has a right to help 
 himself, and this I mean to do !" The 
 poor woman, with tears in her eyes, 
 begged the brute s pardon. On another 
 occasion, Wallace got as much as he gave, 
 from a cool Quaker with whom at dinner 
 he had made very free, twitting him about 
 his broad brim, and theeiny and iliouing him 
 very familiarly. The Friend bore it very 
 patiently until after dinner, when he at 
 length ventured to say to his persecutor: 
 
228 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 " Captain, thee has made very free with 
 me, and asked me a great many ques 
 tions, which I have endeavored to answer 
 to thy satisfaction. Wilt thou now per 
 mit me to ask thee one in my turn ?"- 
 " Oh, by all means !" exclaimed the cap 
 tain, " anything thee please, friend ; what 
 is it?" "Why, then, I wish to be in 
 formed what makes thee drink so often : 
 art thou really dry every time thou car- 
 riest the liquor to thy mouth ?" The cap- 
 tain,drunk as he was,felt this home thrust, 
 frowned savagely, and, swearing a loud 
 curse, asked, "What! do you think I am 
 like a hog, only to drink when I am dry ?" 
 The fellow was as cruel in disposition as 
 he was coarse and violent in manner. 
 
 This Wallace had stationed his vessel- 
 of-war off Newport, where he would land 
 his sailors and marines, to make depreda 
 tions upon the inhabitants. A party of 
 these marauders had lately gone ashore, 
 and, not satisfied with killing and carry 
 ing off the cattle, had broken into, plun 
 dered, and finally burned, some of the 
 houses. It was also feared by the Rhode- 
 Islanders that the British admiral at Bos 
 ton was about sending a large naval force, 
 with the view of subjecting, by the con 
 nivance of the tory residents, the whole 
 island to British military rule. 
 
 The governor of Rhode Island, in soli 
 citing the aid of Washington, had sug 
 gested that Lee might be sent; and he 
 accordingly was ordered to Newport with 
 several companies of riflemen, which were 
 joined on the march by a considerable 
 number of militia. Lee was the very 
 man for the emergency ; his usual faults 
 of character became merits on the occa 
 
 sion. His self-willed temper made him 
 prompt in the execution of his measures. 
 He entered Newport, and at once sum 
 moned before him all persons known or 
 suspected of giving countenance to the 
 enemy. He then forced them to take an 
 oath by which they " religiously swore 
 they would neither directly nor indirect 
 ly assist the wicked instruments of min 
 isterial tyranny and villany commonly 
 called the king s troops and navy, by fur 
 nishing them with provisions and refresh 
 ments;" and 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." We may 
 conceive of the terror infused into the 
 hearts of the tories by the determined 
 conduct of Lee, when he succeeded in 
 extorting such an oath from all but three 
 of those who were brought before him. 
 He soon returned to Cambridge. As Lee 
 will, from this moment, begin to appear 
 more prominently upon the scene, we 
 may here give a record of his history. 
 
 CHARLES LEE can almost be said to have 
 been born a soldier. His father was a 
 general in the British army, and the son 
 received a commission at the early age 
 of eleven years. Born in Wales, in 1731, 
 young Lee had all the impulsive charac 
 teristics of the Welsh. He was ardent 
 and brave, irascible and headstrong. In 
 the army, where he began so early a ca 
 reer, his energetic courage was soon no 
 ticed, and led to his frequent employment 
 in active service. In 1756, he first came 
 to America, and won renown in the colo 
 nial battles as an officer in the royal army. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 CHARLES LEE. 
 
 229 
 
 From his earliest days his disposition had 
 been wayward, and his conduct socially 
 irregular. He now gave signal proof of 
 his eccentricity, by abandoning civilized 
 life, and casting himself adrift among the 
 roaming Indians. He was welcomed by 
 the Mohawks, whom he had joined, and 
 made by them a chief, with an Indian 
 name, which signified " Boiling Water." 
 This title, so characteristic of the restless 
 disposition of the man, was a remarkable 
 proof of the shrewd insight of his savage 
 friends who conferred it. The capricious- 
 ness of Lee, which had led him to leave, 
 induced him to return to civilization. A 
 new whim took possession of his mind. 
 He wished to take part in political strife. 
 He had always been fond of books, and, 
 having an ambition as a writer, often in 
 dulged in literary compositions, chiefly 
 of a partisan character. 
 
 On his return to England, however, Lee 
 was induced to take up arms again, and, 
 having received a colonel s commission, 
 served under General Burgoyne in Por 
 tugal, where he exhibited great daring, 
 on one occasion swimming the Tagus at 
 the head of his troops. After the war, 
 he lived in London, where he made him 
 self somewhat famous as a political wri 
 ter and advocate of liberal principles. In 
 a short time he wearied of this life, and 
 sought promotion from the British au 
 thorities, who, however, would not listen 
 to the appeal of a man who had been no 
 toriously engaged in attacking them with 
 all the bitterness of which he was capa 
 ble. Indeed, such was the keenness and 
 vigor of his pen, that some even attrib 
 uted to him the authorship of the cele 
 
 brated letters of " Junius." Lee now went 
 abroad, and travelled for several years 
 on the continent of Europe, where he ac 
 quired a knowledge of various languages, 
 and succeeded in making the acquaint 
 ance of the great, with whom he so far in 
 gratiated himself, that he was commend 
 ed by them to Stanislaus Augustus, king 
 of Poland, who made him his aid-de-camp. 
 From Poland he repaired, in some official 
 capacity, to Constantinople. After a short 
 residence in Turkey, Lee threw off his al 
 legiance to the Polish king, and went to 
 Paris. In 1773, he returned to America, 
 determined to make it his home for the 
 rest of his life. By the advice of his old 
 comrade and countryman Gates, he pur 
 chased an estate in Virginia, and was there 
 living, with his books and his dogs, the 
 easy life of a southern planter, when the 
 struggle with Great Britain commenced. 
 Lee, who was always a liberal, promptly 
 declared for the Americans. His acces 
 sion to the cause was gladly welcomed, 
 and his experience as a military leader 
 induced Congress to make him a briga 
 dier-general. 
 
 Lee was an eccentric person, who, al 
 though possessed of the breeding of a 
 gentleman, was fond of ruffling the for 
 malities of society by personal irregular 
 ity of manners. He was slovenly in his 
 dress, and not seldom careless in behav 
 ior. " Plain in person even to ugliness, 
 and careless in his manners even to a de 
 gree of rudeness, his nose was so remark 
 ably aquiline that it appeared as a real 
 deformity. His voice was rough, his garb 
 ordinary, his deportment morose. He 
 was ambitious of fame, without the dig- 
 
230 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 nity to support it. In private life, he 
 sank into the vulgarity of the clown." 
 Such was the by no means flattering ac 
 count given of Lee by an observant lady. 
 He does not seem to have been a favor 
 ite with the gentle sex, of whom another 
 is reported to have said that he was " a 
 crabbed man ;" and Mrs. Adams declares 
 that " the elegance of his pen far exceeds 
 that of his person." He is supposed to 
 have suffered in the good opinion of the 
 ladies by his fondness for dogs, a pack of 
 which always followed him wherever he 
 went, to the manifest disorder of the good 
 housekeeping of his female friends. " I 
 was very politely entertained and noticed 
 by the generals," writes Mrs. Adams 
 " more especially General Lee, who was 
 very urgent for me to tarry in town and 
 dine with him and the ladies present at 
 
 1 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 pre 
 sent his paw to me for a better acquaint 
 ance. I could not do otherwise than ac 
 cept it." 
 
 The New-Englanders were dreadfully 
 shocked by Lee s impiety. He " swore 
 like a trooper," and did not fear to scoff 
 openly at the ordinances of religion. 
 When a day was appointed to invoke 
 the aid of Heaven upon the American 
 cause, Lee ridiculed it, and remarked, 
 "Heaven is ever found favorable to 
 strong battalions !" Tom Paine said of 
 him that "he was above all monarchs, 
 and below all scum." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The Sufferings of the British in Boston. British Officers, however, make an Effort to console themselves. Turn Play 
 wrights and Actors. An Incident at the Play. A Sudden Exit. The Attack on the Works at Charlestown. The 
 First of January in the American Camp. Troubles of Enlistment. Washington s Afflictions. The Patriotic Spirit 
 still alive. The King s Speech. Its Reception in the American Camp. Washington eager to destroy the "Nest in 
 Boston." Arrival of a British Squadron. New York threatened. Washington provides for the Emergency. Lee 
 sent to New York. His Journey thither. Arrival and Conduct at New York. An Emphatic Menace. One of Lee s 
 Tremendous Oaths. New York Tories. Sir John Johnson. His Manoeuvres. Watched hy Schuyler. A Forcible 
 Argument applied to the Indians. Schuyler proceeds to Johnstown. Sir John forced to capitulate, and pledge Him 
 self to Inaction. Approval of Schuyler s Conduct. 
 
 1775. 
 
 THE British in Boston had more 
 than their share of the sufferings 
 of the winter. The distress of the troops 
 and inhabitants was spoken of as " great 
 beyond all possible description. Neither 
 vegetables, flour, nor pulse for the inhab 
 itants; and the king s stores so very short, 
 
 none can be spared from them ; no fuel, 
 and the winter set in remarkably severe. 
 The troops and inhabitants are absolutely 
 and literally starving for want of pro vis- 
 ions and fire. Even salt provision is fif 
 teen pence sterling per pound." The 
 small-pox, too, broke out in Boston, ter- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE BRITISH FARCE. 
 
 231 
 
 ribly alarming the people, whom even the 
 thought that the disease was the best pro 
 tection against the assault of the enemy 
 did not reconcile to its infliction. The 
 weather was so severe, with its freezing 
 cold arid drifting snows, that it was found 
 necessary to order General Clinton and 
 the larger portion of his troops to take 
 refuge within the town from the exposed 
 heights of Bunker s hill, where only a 
 small garrison was left in three redoubts. 
 
 Wood, too, was as scarce in Boston as 
 in the American camp ; but Howe had 
 less scruples than Washington in supply 
 ing his wants. The British general issued 
 orders for pulling down the old North 
 meetinghouse, containing a great deal of 
 timber, and a hundred wooden dwelling- 
 houses and other buildings to be used for 
 fuel. The trees on the common were 
 hewed down, and the celebrated Liberty- 
 tree furnished fourteen cords of wood ! 
 Though they succeeded in thus supply 
 ing one want, they had much greater diffi 
 culty in satisfying others. An occasional 
 coaster from Nova Scotia would escape 
 the American privateers, and succeed in 
 landing a cargo of beef, poultry, and hay; 
 but such was the scarcity of these articles, 
 that they were snatched up at once, at 
 the most exorbitant prices, by the few 
 who were rich enough to buy them. The 
 great mass of the troops and people were 
 forced to live exclusively upon salt pro. 
 visions, and even upon meager supplies 
 of those. The necessary result was, the 
 prevalence of scurvy and fatal dysen 
 teries. 
 
 The British officers, however, made a 
 commendable effort to sustain the spirits 
 
 of their men under these severe trials. 
 They got up concerts, balls, and plays, in 
 Faneuil hall, to enliven the people. In 
 their dramatic performances they tried 
 to serve the double purpose of making 
 the audience, by provocatives to their 
 cheerfulness, less discontented with them 
 selves, and, by appeals to their sense of 
 ridicule,more regardless of their enemies. 
 The Americans were " taken off" by the 
 military playwrights, and " shown up" to 
 the manifest delight of a nightly con 
 course of tories and red-coats. The bills 
 of the plays were, with a refined irony, 
 frequently sent by some anonymous to 
 ries to Washington and his generals. The 
 " Blockade of Boston," supposed to have 
 been composed by Burgoyne himself, who 
 was known even at that time to have a 
 dramatic turn, having heen written with 
 the express purpose of ridiculing Wash 
 ington and his troops, drew together on 
 the night of its performance an unusually 
 large audience. 
 
 " The Busy-body," the first piece on the 
 bill, being over, the curtain drew up for 
 the farce of " The Blockade of Boston." 
 Washington was, of course, a prominent 
 character, and appeared with a large wig 
 on his head, a long rusty sword by his 
 side, and followed by his orderly sergeant, 
 who had on his shoulder a rusty gun 
 seven feet long, and was otherwise ludi 
 crously equipped. These dramatic per 
 sonages had hardly made their appear 
 ance, when a real character presented 
 himself in the shape of a British sergeant, 
 who came running on the stage, and, 
 throwing down his musket, called out 
 lustily," The Yankees are attacking Bun- 
 
232 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 ker s hill !" The audience thought that 
 this was a part of the play, until Howe, 
 who was present, cried out, "Officers, to 
 your alarm-posts /" when the military por 
 tion of the crowd made great haste away, 
 leaving the ladies shrieking and fainting, 
 and the rest of the audience in a state of 
 great consternation. 
 
 The alarm had been caused by an at 
 tack of two hundred men, under Captain 
 Knowlton, sent out by General Putnam, 
 from his works on Cobble hill, to destroy 
 some houses in Charlestown : these houses, 
 about fourteen in number, were all that 
 were left after the general fire, and were 
 occupied by the British. The Americans 
 started out at night, and, crossing the ice 
 at the dam, succeeded in burning eight 
 or ten of the houses, killing one man, and 
 taking captive the guard, with their arms. 
 The British garrison on Bunker s hill were 
 alarmed by the flames, and commenced a 
 brisk fire, doing no damage to the Amer 
 icans, but greatly disturbing the equanim 
 ity, as we have seen, of the troops and 
 people within Boston. 
 
 The opening of the year in the 
 American camp was a time of great 
 anxiety. The period of service of most 
 of the regiments had expired ; and the 
 old troops were in such a hurry to get 
 away, and the new were so slow in com 
 ing in, that during the early days of Jan 
 uary there were hardly ten thousand men 
 before Boston. Washington was not only 
 full of care, from the great interests at 
 stake, but annoyed exceedingly by the 
 resistance with which his orders were met 
 by the disbanding troops. Many of the 
 fresh men had come in unprovided with 
 
 1776, 
 
 arms, and it became necessary to insist 
 that those who were leaving the ranks 
 should sell their guns, at a price fixed 
 by inspectors appointed for the purpose. 
 This caused dissatisfaction, and much 
 grumbling. Washington, observing the 
 dissatisfied spirit of his forces, appealed 
 to their patriotism in a general order, in 
 which, after reminding them that " an 
 army without order, regularity, or disci 
 pline, is no better than a commissioned 
 mob," he entreated them to conduct them 
 selves like true soldiers, as " everything 
 dear to freemen was at stake," and could 
 only be secured by the faithful perform 
 ance of their military duties. 
 
 The care which weighed upon Wash 
 ington s mind at this time was known then 
 only to his most intimate friends, to whom 
 in the confidence of his letters he unbur 
 dened his heart. To his former secretary 
 (Reed) he writes: "Search the 
 volumes of history through, and 
 I much question whether a case similar 
 to ours is to be found : namely, to main 
 tain a post against the flower of the Brit 
 ish troops for six months together, with 
 out powder; and then to have one army 
 disbanded, and another to be raised, with 
 in the same distance of a reinforced army. 
 What may be the issue of the last manoeu 
 vre, time only can unfold. I wish this 
 month were well over our heads." 
 
 Again he writes, a few days later : 
 "The reflection upon my situation, and 
 that of this army, produces many an unea 
 sy hour, when all around me are wrapped 
 in sleep. Few people know the predica 
 ment we are in, on a thousand accounts ; 
 fewer still will believe, if any disaster 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE KING S SPEECH. 
 
 233 
 
 happens to these lines, from what cause 
 it flows. I have often thought how much 
 happier I should have been, if, instead of 
 accepting of a command under such cir 
 cumstances, 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 re 
 tired to the back country, and lived in a 
 wigwam. If I shall be able to rise supe 
 rior to these, and many other difficulties 
 which might be enumerated, 1 shall most 
 religiously believe that the finger of Prov 
 idence is in it, to blind the eyes of our 
 enemies; for surely if we get well through 
 this month, it must be for the want of 
 their knowing the disadvantages we labor 
 under." 
 
 With all this discouragement, the pa 
 triotic feeling in the camp does not seem 
 to have flagged. When for the first time, 
 on New-Year s day, the flag with thirteen 
 stripes, symbolical of the union of the 
 thirteen colonies, was hoisted, there was 
 apparently great enthusiasm, which found 
 vent in loud hurrahs. On the same day, 
 the British commander sent in with a flag 
 of truce a " volume" of the king s speech 
 at the opening of Parliament. This, how 
 ever, only served to fire the patriotic ar 
 dor of the troops although, singularly 
 enough, the hoisting of the new flag, and 
 the loud rejoicings of the American camp, 
 were " received in Boston as a token of 
 the deep impression which the speech 
 had made," and as " a signal of submis 
 sion." " By this time" (January 4th), 
 writes Washington, " I presume they be 
 gin to think it strange that we have not 
 made a formal surrender of our lines." 
 ao 
 
 The king s speech, on the contrary, was 
 received with a feeling the very reverse 
 of that which might lead to the hoisting 
 of "a signal of submission." The patriots 
 now talked of absolute independence, and 
 looked forward with hope to raising in 
 America " an empire of permanent dura 
 tion, supported upon the grand pillars of 
 truth, freedom, and religion, based upon 
 justice, and defended by her own patri 
 otic sons." The obstinate resolve ex 
 pressed by George III., not to give up 
 the colonies at any expense of blood and 
 treasure, and the proof he gave of his 
 determination (by the fact of his recom 
 mendation that the navy and army of 
 Great Britain should be increased, and 
 the mercenary aid of the Hessians hired, 
 for the purpose of suppressing the " re 
 bellious war"), did not shake the firmness 
 of the Americans, but greatly excited 
 their patriotic rage. 
 
 The Congress, after a long debate, hav 
 ing passed a resolution authori- 
 
 \_ . . l!ec, 22, 
 
 zing Washington to make an as 
 sault upon the enemy, " in any manner 
 he might think expedient, notwithstand 
 ing the town and property in it might be 
 destroyed," he began seriously to contem 
 plate an attack. In his anxiety to do 
 something, he went so far as to declare 
 to the council of war called to deliberate 
 upon the question, that " it is indispensa 
 bly necessary to make a bold attempt to 
 conquer the ministerial troops in Boston 
 before they can be reinforced in the 
 spring, if the means," he cautiously add 
 ed, however, " shall be provided, and a 
 favorable opportunity shall offer." 
 
 How great his desire for an assault, 
 
234 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART. n. 
 
 Jan. 24. 
 
 and how inadequate his means, may be 
 learned from this letter to the Congress 
 at Philadelphia : " No man upon 
 earth wishes more ardently to 
 destroy the nest in Boston than I do ; no 
 person would be willing to go greater 
 lengths than I shall to accomplish it, if it 
 shall be thought advisable. But if \ve 
 have neither powder to bombard with, 
 nor ice to pass on, we shall be in no bet 
 ter situation than we have been in all the 
 year ; we shall be worse, because their 
 works are stronger." 
 
 To strengthen his force, Washington 
 had proposed to call out the New-Eng 
 land militia ; and accordingly a requisi 
 tion was made on Massachusetts, New 
 Hampshire, and Connecticut, for thirteen 
 regiments, to assemble at Cambridge on 
 the first of February. While this plan 
 was in operation, Washington felt more 
 keenly than ever the inadequacy of his 
 forces, for he had heard of the defeat and 
 death of the gallant Montgomery, and 
 would have desired to send reinforce 
 ments at once to the aid of Arnold. He 
 could not, however, spare a man from his 
 own camp ; and his only alternative was 
 to order three of the new regiments of 
 militia, when filled, to proceed to Que 
 bec. 
 
 Washington was thus, as it were, fast 
 ened in his camp, unable to move in con 
 sequence of th-e want of troops and am 
 munition, although other circumstances 
 seemed favorable to action. How keenly 
 he felt his position is told in every letter 
 he wrote. To Congress he writes : " To 
 have the eyes of a whole continent fixed 
 with anxious expectation of seeing some 
 
 great event, and to be restrained in every 
 military operation for want of the neces 
 sary means to carry 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." Washington, however, 
 had some diversion for his pent-up ener 
 gies, in the prospect of activity in another 
 quarter, where, if his personal presence 
 was not required, the exercise of his judg 
 ment became necessary. 
 
 Information had been brought to head 
 quarters, by a trustworthy person from 
 Boston, of great activity in the British 
 fleet. Admiral Shuldham, appointed to 
 supersede Graves, had arrived in the har 
 bor with a squadron and considerable 
 reinforcements. On his arrival, a busy 
 movement began : troops were detailed 
 off for service, baggage packed, provisions 
 inspected, biscuit baked, and ammunition 
 taken out of store, with the evident pur 
 pose of making ready for sea, preparatory 
 to an attack against some place or other. 
 Finally, five transports loaded with troops 
 under the command of Sir Henry Clinton, 
 with munitions of war, two bomb-vessels, 
 and a number of flat-bottomed boats, sailed 
 away from Boston under the convoy of 
 the Scarborough and Fowey men-of-war. 
 It was supposed that Long island was the 
 destination of this force, and Washington 
 accordingly was anxious to provide a 
 resistance to meet it. He had written to 
 Congress, urging them to have some of 
 the New-Jersey troops thrown into New 
 York; but, not getting much satisfaction 
 in that quarter, he determined to act for 
 himself. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 LEE AT NEW YORK. 
 
 235 
 
 General Lee, who was at that time in 
 Connecticut, had written a letter to Wash 
 ington, in which, with his usual emphatic 
 earnestness, he said : " New York must be 
 secured, but it will never. I am afraid, be 
 secured by direct order of Congress, for 
 obvious reasons. 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." Lee was especially anx 
 ious to lay his hands upon the " danger 
 ous banditti of tories" in New York, who 
 were giving great countenance and aid 
 to the enemy. " Not to crush," said he, 
 " these serpents before their rattles are 
 grown, would be ruinous." 
 
 Lee s proposition accorded with Wash 
 ington s views, but he was anxious not to 
 overstep his authority, and therefore hesi 
 tated to act until he had consulted with 
 John Adams, who highly approved of the 
 plan, " as practicable, expedient, and as 
 properly lying within his excellency s au 
 thority without farther directions from 
 Congress." Washington accordingly or 
 dered Lee to raise a volunteer force in 
 Connecticut, to march to New York, and, 
 with the aid of the New-Jersey troops, 
 under Lord Sterling, to put the city and 
 its immediate neighborhood in a posture 
 of defence. Lee was, moreover, author 
 ized to disarm or secure that " dangerous 
 banditti of tories" whom he so cordially 
 hated. 
 
 With the aid of Governor Trumbull, 
 Lee soon gathered together the respect 
 able force of twelve hundred men, and 
 
 marched to Stamford. There he was met 
 by a communication from the New York 
 committee of safety, who expressed a very 
 decided aversion to his entering the city, 
 lest it might provoke hostility on the part 
 of the British ships-of-war in the harbor. 
 Lee replied with unusual suavity, which 
 was the more remarkable, as he was at 
 the time suffering from a fit of the gout. 
 Toward the end of his letter, however, 
 there is a very perceptible spasm of dis 
 ease or temper. "If the ships-of-war," 
 growls he, " 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 !" 
 
 Lee got to New York as soon as his 
 gout would permit him, arriving there 
 just two hours after Sir Henry 
 Clinton had come to anchor in 
 the lower bay with the Mercury and a 
 transport-brig. The inhabitants were in 
 a state of great alarm, in consequence of 
 two such belligerent arrivals. Though 
 it was Sunday, they began moving away 
 their effects, and continued to do so the 
 whole night. The town seemed in a state 
 of convulsion with the confusion of the 
 hurried exodus : carts were going, boats 
 loading, women and children crying, and 
 distressed voices w r ere even heard along 
 the roads in the dead of night. Clinton, 
 however, soon relieved the city s fears, 
 by giving out that his object was merely 
 a visit to his friend Governor Tryon, who 
 at that time held state in the secure quar 
 ters of a British man-of-war anchored in 
 the North river. In a few days, Sir Henry 
 
5236 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 sailed away to North Carolina, and left 
 Lee to deal with the tories. 
 
 Lee began his administration with an 
 emphatic menace, by declaring, " If the 
 men-of-war set one house on fire in con 
 sequence of my coming, I will chain a 
 hundred of their friends together by the 
 neck, and make the house their funeral- 
 pile !" " He would," says Gordon, " in 
 all likelihood, have retaliated in some 
 manner." 
 
 The American commander busied him 
 self in removing the cannon on the Bat 
 tery, and those in the king s store, to a 
 place of safety, notwithstanding the "per 
 dition to the city" threatened by the Brit 
 ish men-of-war. They, however, withheld 
 their fire ; the naval authorities publish 
 ing a " pleasant reason" for their reserve, 
 saying that as it was evidently Lee s pur 
 pose to bring destruction on the town, 
 they were determined not to indulge him. 
 Lee, laughing at them and their reasons, 
 continued his work, and, after removing 
 the cannon, made good use of them by 
 planting them in the redoubts and breast 
 works which he erected in various places 
 about New York. Besides, he ferreted 
 out his old enemies the tories, and ad 
 ministered to them one of his " tremen 
 dous oaths," which led Congress to resolve 
 " That no oath by way of test be imposed 
 upon, exacted, or required, of any of the 
 inhabitants of these colonies, by any mil 
 itary officer." Lee s martial law was not 
 seldom in conflict with legislative enact 
 ment, and his measures were too often 
 laid with gunpowder not to startle the 
 timid counsels of the prudent. He wished 
 to pursue a very high-handed course with 
 
 all in opposition to the patriot cause; and. 
 justly suspecting that the friends of the 
 enemy were especially strong in New 
 York, he was particularly anxious to 
 make them feel the weight of his blow. 
 Governor Tryon. in consequence of his 
 influence upon many of the " respectable" 
 inhabitants of New York, was extremely 
 odious to Lee. " The propensity, or ra 
 ther rage, for paying court to this great 
 man," he writes, u is inconceivable. They 
 can not be weaned from him. We must 
 put wormwood on his paps, or they will 
 cry to suck, as they are in their second 
 childhood !" Lee s energetic measures, 
 however, were soon checked by a call to 
 duty elsewhere. 
 
 The tories were not confined to the 
 city ; in the interior of the province they 
 had gathered in strong force at the call 
 of Sir John Johnson, the son of Sir Wil 
 liam, renowned in the French war. Sii 
 John had succeeded to his father s estate 
 on the Mohawk, and his baronial influence 
 over the Highland tenants and Indian re 
 tainers. Fortifying Johnson hall, he was 
 preparing, it was believed, to set out with 
 his clansmen and savages along the val 
 ley of the Mohawk, with the view of for 
 cing submission to the king s authority. 
 General Schuyler, having kept watch of 
 his movements, sent word to Congress, 
 which, in answer, committed to him the 
 business of checking Sir John s proposed 
 enterprise. There being no troops at Al 
 bany, Schuyler was obliged to have re 
 course to thesub-committee of the county, 
 with whose aid he succeeded in raising 
 some seven hundred militia. With this 
 force he commenced his march, and was 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 SIR JOHN QUASHED. 
 
 237 
 
 gratified to find that such was the enthu 
 siasm in behalf of the patriot cause, that 
 he had not gone far before his troops were 
 increased by volunteers to the number of 
 three thousand. Even Tryon county, sup 
 posed to be the stronghold of the tories, 
 supplied him nine hundred men. 
 
 As Schuyler proceeded with this aug 
 mented force to Johnstown, he was met 
 by a deputation from the Mohawks, which 
 addressed him in magniloquent Indian 
 rhetoric, and haughtily forbade him to 
 advance against their "father," Sir John. 
 Schuyler replied that he had full proof 
 that many people in Johnstown and the 
 neighborhood thereof had for a consider 
 able time past made preparations to carry 
 into execution the wicked design of the 
 king s evil counsellors. " We have no ob 
 jection," said Schuyler in conclusion, "nay 
 we wish, that you and your warriors 
 should be present to hear what we shall 
 propose to Sir John and the people in 
 and about Johnstown, who are our ene 
 mies. But we beg of you to tell your 
 warriors that, although we have no quar 
 rel with them, yet if we should be under 
 the disagreeable necessity of fighting with 
 our enemies, and your warriors should 
 join them and fight against us, that we 
 will repel force by force." 
 
 The Indian chiefs had occasion, on en 
 tering the American camp, and casting 
 their wary eyes upon the large number 
 of soldiers, to become convinced of the 
 force of Schuyler s last argument, and ac 
 cordingly when they replied, meekly said: 
 " Brother Schuyler, the great man, attend ! 
 Everything that has been said to us, broth 
 er, has been perfectly agreeable to us." 
 
 Schuyler now sent a letter to Sir John 
 Johnson, requesting a meeting with him 
 next day, and assuring him that he and 
 such persons as he might choose to at 
 tend him should pass safe and unmolest 
 ed to and from the place appointed for 
 the rendezvous. Sir John accordingly 
 met the general about sixteen miles from 
 Schenectady, when Schuyler s proposal 
 having been submitted, Johnson asked 
 until the following day for time to an 
 swer. Schuyler consented, and in the 
 meantime advanced his troops on the 
 frozen Mohawk to within four miles of 
 Johnstown. Sir John s response now 
 came, but, not being satisfactory, Schuy 
 ler resolved that he would march against 
 the Johnson stronghold, at the same time 
 informing the baronet that he would give 
 
 o O 
 
 him until twelve o clock at night to re 
 consider his answer. Sir John, true to 
 time, sent in precisely at that hour a sat 
 isfactory reply. He agreed to deliver up 
 all the arms and military stores in his 
 possession, with the exception of a few 
 favorite family arms which Sir John was 
 allowed, at his own request, to retain. 
 He pledged himself besides, on his parole 
 of honor, neither to take up arms against 
 America, nor to move in the county be 
 yond certain specified limits. His follow 
 ers were, of course, bound by similar ob 
 ligations. 
 
 The next day Schuyler pro 
 ceeded to Johnstown, and drew 
 up his men in the street, when Sir John s 
 Hio hlanders, some two or three hundred 
 
 O 
 
 in number, marched to the front of the 
 lines and grounded their arms. Schuy 
 ler then dismissed them with an exhort a 
 
 Jan, 20, 
 
238 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 tion strictly to observe the terms of their 
 agreement, and to refrain from all acts of 
 hostility. The conduct of the American 
 
 general, throughout this whole transac 
 tion, was highly approved by Congress, 
 and applauded by the patriots. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Patrick Henry in the Legislature of Virginia. The Virginian Volunteers. The Culpepper Corps. The Eattlesnake 
 Device. Lord Dunmore s Proceedings. The Fight at Great Bridge. Lord Dunmore retires from Norfolk. The 
 City burned. Description of Norfolk. Plantations laid waste. North Carolina. The Manoeuvres of the Tories. 
 IT Donald and M Leod. Their Highland Followers. General Moore and the Patriots. MvDonald retreats. Moore 
 pursues. The Battle at Moore s-Creek Bridge. M Leod falls. The Enemy put to Flight. The Spirit in South 
 Carolina and Georgia. 
 
 1775, 
 
 " THERE is no longer any room 
 for hope. If we wish to be free ; 
 if we wish to preserve inviolate those in 
 estimable privileges for which we have 
 been so long contending ; if we mean not 
 basely to abandon the noble struggle in 
 which we have been so long engaged, and 
 which we have pledged ourselves never 
 to abandon until the glorious object of 
 our contest shall be obtained, w r e must 
 fight ! I repeat it, sir, we must fight ! An 
 appeal to arms and the God of hosts is 
 all that is left us." These were the words 
 uttered by Patrick Henry, in the course 
 of his eloquent speech in support of the 
 resolutions he introduced in the Virginia 
 legislature, recommending a levy of vol 
 unteer troops: the resolutions were passed 
 by a large majority. The appointment 
 of a committee of safety followed, which 
 at once proceeded to raise an armed force, 
 of which Patrick Henry was made com- 
 mander-in-chief. Volunteers came in read 
 ily, among whom was a corps of men from 
 the county of Culpepper, whose appear 
 ance gave promise of doughty service. 
 
 Dressed in green hunting-shirts, like so 
 many Eobin-Hood foresters, with bucks 
 tails in their slouched hats, and with tom 
 ahawks and scalping-knives bristling from 
 their belts, their very looks frightened 
 the people.* Their flag, with the device 
 of a coiled rattlesnake, and the motto, 
 " Don t tread on me !" and the inscription 
 on the bosom of each man s shirt, of "Lib 
 erty or death," taken from Henry s speech, 
 were no less alarming. These Culpepper 
 men proved themselves no less formida 
 ble than they looked. 
 
 Lord Dunmore, the governor of Vir 
 ginia, had been frightened away from 
 Williamsburg, the seat of government, by 
 
 * " Companies were raised in nearly every county ; among 
 the rest, in Culpepper, adjoining Fauquier. This troop, 
 which was three hundred and iifty strong, assembled near 
 an old oak, which is still standing ; and Colonel Thomas 
 Marshall was elected major. His son John was made lieu 
 tenant. The flag of the troop presented a coiled rattlesnake 
 the head for Virginia, and the twelve rattles for the other 
 states: the mottoes, DON T TREAD ON ME! and LIBER 
 TY OR DEATH ! These latter words were also painted upon 
 the breasts of the green hunting-shirts of the company. Tne 
 men were armed with rifles, tomahawks, and knives. Such 
 WHS the warlike guise in which the afterward famous chief 
 justice appeared at the head of his ardent troop." JOHN 
 ESTEN COOKE. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF GREAT BRIDGE. 
 
 the energetic conduct of the patriots, and 
 taken refuge on board of a ship-of-war. 
 Arming several vessels, and collecting to 
 gether a number of tories and negroes, 
 lie determined to inflict punishment up 
 on the " rebels." He sailed with this force 
 along the coast, doing all the damage in 
 his power, seizing here and there a patri 
 ot, destroying plantations, carrying off 
 negroes, and burning houses. Having 
 received a reinforcement of soldiers, he 
 prepared to make an attempt on Hamp 
 ton. His vessels, in the course of the 
 night, warped in close to the town, and 
 in the mgrning began a furious cannon 
 ade. A company of the Culpepper rifle 
 men had in the meantime reached Hamp 
 ton, and, being properly dispersed and 
 hid, commenced firing at the ships, and 
 with such effect, that the enemy were 
 forced to haul off precipitately, for no 
 man who ventured to show himself on 
 deck was secure from the deadly aim of 
 the Virginia marksmen. 
 
 Dunmore was terribly vexed at being 
 thus repulsed by a few raw militiamen, 
 and took his revenge by proclaiming mar 
 tial law, requiring all persons capable of 
 bearing arms to resort to his majesty s 
 standard, or to be looked upon as trai 
 tors ; and declaring all indentured ser 
 vants, negroes, or others (appertaining to 
 " rebels"), who were able and willing to 
 bear arms, free, upon serving with the 
 royal troops. Dunmore was at this time 
 at Norfolk, where there were a goodly 
 number of tories, and his proclamation 
 brought some hundreds of them, both 
 black and white, to his standard. With 
 this miscellaneous rabble added to his 
 
 two hundred regulars, he prepared to 
 meet a force of Virginian patriots who 
 were rapidly advancing to drive him from 
 Norfolk. 
 
 His lordship s first operation was, to 
 take possession and remove the planks 
 of the Great bridge, which was the only 
 approach to the town ; and then, with the 
 utmost expedition, he began building a 
 redoubt on the Norfolk side. He had 
 not made much progress when the Vir 
 ginians arrived, under the command of 
 Captain Woodford, who took up a posi 
 tion at the other end of the bridge, at 
 cannon-shot distance from Dunmore, and 
 began throwing up intrenchments. The 
 two parties thus remained for several 
 days, busy at their works, without firing 
 a shot, when the Virginians, becoming 
 impatient, resolved to provoke an attack. 
 For this purpose they availed themselves 
 of a ruse. A servant belonging to one 
 of the Virginian officers was directed to 
 join Dunmore s force, as a pretended de 
 serter, and report that the patriots only 
 numbered three hundred " shirtmen" (so 
 the riflemen were called from their hunt 
 ing-dress) in all. The negro performed 
 his part admirably ; and the enemy, swal 
 lowing the bait, determined to attack the 
 patriots in their intrenchments. 
 
 The British regulars, under Captain 
 Leslie, were accordingly detailed for the 
 service, together with about three hun 
 dred " white and black slaves." The party 
 set out at three o clock in the morning, 
 in order to take the Virginians by sur 
 prise before dawn. Leslie, having re 
 placed the planks of the Great bridge, 
 marched his men across, with Captain For- 
 
240 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 dyce, at the head of his grenadiers, lead 
 ing the van. The regulars, with fixed 
 bayonets, advanced steadily along the 
 causeway directly up to the American 
 intrenchments. The Virginian riflemen, 
 however, were on the alert, and, waiting 
 until the enemy were close to them, be 
 gan a murderous fire, by which Fordyce 
 and several of his men were at once killed. 
 The grenadiers held their ground with a 
 coolness and intrepidity that excited the 
 admiration of all ; and such was their dis 
 cipline, that they continued to advance 
 until not one of them escaped either death 
 or capture. Leslie, who was in the rear 
 with the main body, now ordered a re 
 treat, when the whole of the British force 
 retired to their fort under the cover of 
 its guns, having lost sixty-two men killed 
 and wounded. The Virginians did not 
 lose a single man, and had only one slight 
 ly wounded. Captain Fordyce was buried 
 with the honors due to his rank and gal 
 lantry ; and all the prisoners, with the ex 
 ception of the American royalists, who 
 were rigorously dealt with, were treated 
 kindly by their captors. The British 
 forces retired during the next night with 
 in Norfolk. Leslie now refused to serve 
 any longer on shore, until assured of a 
 better support from the tory inhabitants ; 
 and the loyalists, both white and black, 
 on their part declined to serve, unless 
 aided by a stronger reinforcement of reg 
 ulars. Under these discouraging circum 
 stances, Lord Durnnore determined to 
 abandon his position at Norfolk. 
 
 The Virginians entered the 
 city as the British withdrew, and 
 found that the tory inhabitants had gone 
 
 Dec, 14, 
 
 1776, 
 
 on board the English ships, with the ex 
 ception of the poor negroes, who had been 
 left to shift for themselves. Colonel Wood- 
 ford now resigned the command of the 
 provincials to Colonel Howe, who re 
 mained in possession of Norfolk until the 
 beginning of the ensuing year. 
 
 Lord Dunmore was still \vith his 
 ships in Hampton roads, unable to 
 effect anything until the arrival, on the 
 first of January, of the British frigate Liv 
 erpool. A flag of truce was then imme 
 diately sent into the town, with a demand 
 for supplies. These being positively re 
 fused, Dunmore determined to, bombard 
 and set fire to Norfolk, where the Vir 
 ginia riflemen, under cover of the ware 
 houses by Elizabeth river, were continuing 
 greatly to harass the ships by their sharp- 
 shooting. Notice having been given to 
 the inhabitants, that they might have an 
 opportunity of removing the women and 
 children from danger, the British vessels 
 began their cannonade, while parties of 
 sailors and marines were sent ashore to 
 set fire to the buildings by the water s 
 edge. The whole town, which was built 
 of wood, was soon in flames and reduced 
 to ashes, notwithstanding every exertion 
 made by Howe and his men to extinguish 
 the fire. 
 
 Norfolk at that time was a place of 
 great importance, having a population of 
 six thousand, and a thriving commerce. 
 It was thought to be " an odious business 
 for a governor to be himself a principal 
 actor in burning and destroying the best 
 town in his government," and great in 
 dignation was excited in consequence 
 throughout the province. The patriots 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.! 
 
 DUNMORE PUT TO FLIGHT. 
 
 were able greatly to harass his lordship, 
 in revenge for his cruelty, by cutting off 
 supplies from the ships. The plantations 
 along the Norfolk shore were laid waste ; 
 and their proprietors, who were chiefly 
 loyalists, were forced to retire into the 
 interior with their stock and stores of 
 provisions, so that they might not have 
 it in their power to supply the necessi 
 ties of the British. Dunmore was thus 
 driven away from Norfolk; and, after con 
 tinuing his depredations upon the banks 
 of the southern rivers and coast and car 
 rying off some thousand negroes, he be 
 took himself with his piratical fleet to St. 
 Augustine, in the then Spanish province 
 of Florida. 
 
 In North Carolina, the patriots were 
 emulating the spirit of their Virginian 
 brethren. The British governor, Martin, 
 had been early forced, like Lord Dun- 
 more, to seek refuge on board a man-of- 
 war, where for the most part he had been 
 obliged to content himself with the proc 
 lamation, without the exercise, of his au 
 thority. Learning, however, that Sir 
 Henry Clinton had sailed for North Car 
 olina, and that an expedition was to be 
 sent out from Great Britain probably for 
 the same destination, Martin took cour 
 age, and began to intrigue with the Scotch 
 settlers in the western districts of the 
 province, who were known to be favora 
 bly disposed to the crown. Among these 
 were a large number of Highlanders, and 
 Martin selected two gentlemen among 
 them, who had been British officers, of 
 the names of M Donald and M Leod, and 
 gave them commissions, with authority 
 to raise a body of troops. These two per- 
 
 31 
 
 sons had not been long in the country 
 but their names were enough to excite 
 all the clannish predilections of the High 
 landers, who gathered as if rallying about 
 their chieftains among their native hills, 
 and enrolled themselves to the number of 
 sixteen hundred under the royal stand 
 ard, which they regarded little, except as 
 unfurled by a M Donald and a M Leod. 
 
 The North Carolina patriots were on 
 the alert; and General Moore, assembling 
 some eleven hundred militiamen,marched 
 to meet the enemy. Coining up within 
 seven miles of the " Regulators," as they 
 were called, and the Highlanders, who 
 were encamped in the neighborhood of 
 Cross creek (now Fayette ville ), which was 
 in the midst of those Scotch settlers who 
 were favorably disposed toward the king, 
 Moore halted in a strong position. The 
 enemy then advanced within four miles, 
 and sent in to the patriots with a flag of 
 truce one of the governor s manifestoes, 
 and a letter to their general, summoning 
 him to join the royal standard or be treat 
 ed as an enemy. Moore, in his answer, 
 declined the proposition for the present, 
 but promised a more specific reply on the 
 next day. M Donald, in command of the 
 royalist force, received accordingly, the 
 following morning, Moore s promised let 
 ter, in which the American general, as a 
 significant offset to the Scotchman s sum 
 mons, called upon him to sign the patri 
 otic association of the province. 
 
 While Moore was expecting a rejoin 
 der to his communication, he learned that 
 M Donald, without waiting to indite a re 
 ply, had crossed the river in the night, 
 and pushed on rapidly toward the coast. 
 
242 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART It. 
 
 Moore, after ordering off a detachment 
 LO join the approaching reinforcements of 
 eight hundred militia which were coming 
 from Newbern, under the command of 
 Colonel Caswell, and another party to se 
 cure the ford of Cross creek, marched him 
 self in pursuit. The Newbern militia for 
 tunately reached Moore s-creek bridge in 
 time to take possession of it, and oppose 
 the retreat of the royalist force. 
 
 The Americans, however, had held pos 
 session only a few hours, during which 
 time they had destroyed a portion of the 
 bridge, and raised a small breast 
 work, when the enemy came up. 
 M Leod, who was now in command, in 
 consequence of the illness of M Donald, 
 no sooner saw that his progress was op 
 posed, than he led his men at once against 
 the American works. They marched up 
 within thirty paces, when they were met 
 by a well-served fire from the American 
 breastwork. Captain M Leod fell at the 
 first volley, pierced with twenty bullets, 
 
 Feb. 27, 
 
 and his troops immediately took to flight. 
 Even McDonald s influence could not suc 
 ceed in rallying them ; and he, complete 
 ly abandoned, was forced to surrender 
 himself a prisoner. General Moore, com 
 ing up soon after, confronted the fugi 
 tives, and took nearly nine hundred of 
 them captive. The royalists lost about 
 seventy killed and wounded ; the patri 
 ots only two wounded. A good supply 
 of arms also fell into the possession of 
 the conquerors. 
 
 In South Carolina and Georgia, little 
 was done in the way of active hostility 
 as yet by the patriots, beyond the seizure 
 of an occasional vessel. There was, how 
 ever, sufficient evidence of a resolute spir 
 it of resistance ; and in the course of this 
 narrative we shall have occasion to record 
 abundant proofs that the southern no less 
 than the northern provinces were willing 
 and able to strike a blow for the liberties 
 of the country. We must now return to 
 Washington and his camp at Cambridge. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Everything thaws but "Old Put." An Assault on Boston proposed, but rejected by the Council of War. Arrival of 
 Knox from Ticonderoga, with an Abundant Supply of Ammunition, &c. The taking Possession of Dorchester 
 Heights proposed. Morals of the Camp protected. Bombardment of Boston. Expedition for Dorchester sets out. 
 The Enemy oppose, and are defeated. Great Preparations of Lord Howe. A Storm. The Attack postponed. A 
 New Missile invented. Howe at last acknowledges the Position of Dorchester Heights to be too formidable for him. 
 He prepares to evacuate Boston. A Flag of Truce. A Communication from the Selectmen of Boston. Attempt 
 on Nook s Hill. A Terrible Cannonade. 
 
 "THE bay is open. Everything 
 
 thaws here except Old Put. He 
 
 is still as hard as ever, crying out for 
 
 powder, powder! ye gods, give us pow 
 
 der! " wrote an officer. And Washing 
 ton, too, had his complaints to make on 
 the same score. "The weather," he writes, 
 " turns out exceedingly mild, insomuch 
 
KEY OLDTION AK Y.j 
 
 FORTIFYING DORCHESTER HEIGHTS. 
 
 24, 
 
 Fcb, 16. 
 
 as to promise nothing favorable from ice. 
 . . . And no appearance of powder." To 
 ward the middle of February, however, 
 some " freezing weather" having formed 
 " some pretty strong ice," which afforded 
 a wider and consequently less dangerous 
 approach to Boston, Washington was in 
 favor of an assault, notwithstanding the 
 militia were not all come in, and there 
 was little or no powder for a regular can 
 nonade or bombardment. A council of 
 war was accordingly summoned, 
 but the enterprise being thought 
 too dangerous, it was abandoned for the 
 present. 
 
 A few days subsequently, Colonel Knox 
 arrived in the camp with a welcome sup 
 ply of cannon, mortars, and howitzers, 
 which that spirited officer had succeeded, 
 in the depth of a northern winter, in bring 
 ing from Crown Point and Ticonderoga. 
 By means of sleds, and with the utmost 
 labor, Knox dragged for hundreds of 
 miles through the drifted snows and over 
 the frozen lakes an armament of immense 
 w r eight, " a noble train of artillery," as he 
 called it, and safely deposited it at Cain- 
 bridge, where he received, as he well mer 
 ited, the praises of the commander-in-chief 
 and the applause of the whole army. Si 
 multaneously with this acquisition came 
 a supply of shells and powder, captured 
 from the enemy. The militia had come 
 in, too, in considerable force. Under these 
 prosperous circumstances, the council of 
 war was at last so far inspirited as to de 
 cide upon action. It was resolved that 
 Dorchester heights should be taken pos 
 session of as soon as possible, with the 
 view of drawing the enemy out. 
 
 " How far," wrote Washington, who had 
 suggested this movement, " our expecta 
 tions may be answered, time only can de 
 termine ; but I should think, if anything 
 w 7 ill induce them to hazard an engage 
 ment, it will be our attempt to fortify these 
 heights [Dorchester]; as, that event s ta 
 king place, we shall be able to command 
 a great part of the town and almost the 
 whole harbor." Great activity and ani 
 mation now pervaded the camp. Carts 
 loaded with in trenching- tools, carts with 
 fascines and huge bundles of hay, went 
 by the hundreds lumbering along the 
 roads, flanked by guards and followed by 
 detachment after detachment of working- 
 parties; the surgeons and surgeons mates 
 throughout the army were busy in pre 
 paring lint and bandages ; of the latter 
 two thousand had been ordered, although 
 a sanguine member of the medical depart 
 ment expresses the hope that " not one 
 quarter of the number will be required, 
 whatever may be the nature of the occa 
 sion." To add to the seriousness of the 
 approaching events, the soldiers were re 
 minded of their duty by these severely 
 earnest orders, which could only have 
 been addressed with effect to men like 
 those of Washington, fighting for con 
 science sake : 
 
 "All officers," rigidly declares the or 
 der, "non-commissioned officers, and sol 
 diers, are positively forbid playing at 
 cards, and other games of chance. At 
 this time of public distress, men may find 
 enough to do in the service of their God 
 and their country, without abandoning 
 themselves to vice and immorality. 
 
 "As the season is now fast approaching 
 
244 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 when every man must expect to be drawn 
 into the field of action, it is highly impor 
 tant that he should prepare his mind, as 
 well as everything necessary for it. It 
 is a noble cause we are engaged in ; it is 
 the cause of virtue and mankind ; every 
 temporal advantage and comfort to us 
 and our posterity depends upon the vigor 
 of our exertions ; in short, freedom or 
 slavery must be the result of our conduct. 
 There can, therefore, be no greater in 
 ducement to men to behave well. But 
 it may not be amiss for the troops to 
 know that, if any man in action shall pre 
 sume 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 disconcert 
 ed the best-formed troops by their das 
 tardly behavior." 
 
 A night was now appointed for the at 
 tempt on Dorchester heights. The time, 
 at the suggestion of the New-England 
 officers, was the 4th of March ; the next 
 day, which probably would be the day 
 of action, being the anniversary of the 
 " massacre of Boston," which, it was be 
 lieved, would stimulate by its memories 
 the courage of the Massachusetts troops. 
 
 For two days previously, the Ameri 
 cans bombarded Boston, but with no ef 
 fect on the enemy, beyond splintering a 
 few of their wooden buildings and wound 
 ing a soldier or two. The Americans 
 themselves, however, met with a serious 
 loss in the bursting of two heavy mortars, 
 one of which was the big gun the " Con 
 gress," Old Put s christling. The bom 
 bardment, notwithstanding, had the effect 
 
 intended, of concealing from the enemy 
 the preparations for taking possession of 
 Dorchester heights. General Howe, not 
 suspicious of anything more serious, con 
 tented himself with responding to the 
 American fire, and threw a shower of 
 bombs, but fortunately without serious 
 damage. 
 
 All things being ready, the expedition 
 sets out for Dorchester on the night ap 
 pointed. The covering-party of 
 eight hundred men lead the way ; 
 then go the carts with the intrenching- 
 tools, followed by the working-detach 
 ment of twelve hundred men, under Gen 
 eral Thomas; while the rear of the pro 
 cession is closed by a long train of more 
 than three hundred carts laden with fas 
 cines and bundles of hay, and dragged 
 by oxen. The bundles of hay are de 
 signed for Dorchester neck, which is very 
 low, and exposed to be raked by the en 
 emy on one side, where accordingly they 
 are to be laid to cover the Americans in 
 passing and repassing. " Every man," 
 says Gordon, who describes the whole af 
 fair quaintly yet graphically, " knows his 
 place and business. The covering-party, 
 when upon the ground, divides; half goes 
 to the point nearest to Boston, the other 
 to that next to the castle. All possible 
 silence is observed. But there is no oc 
 casion to order the whips to be taken 
 from the wagoners, lest their impatience 
 and the difficulty of the roads should in 
 duce them to make use of them, and oc 
 casion an alarm. The whips used by the 
 drivers of these ox-carts are not formed 
 for making much noise, and can give no 
 alarm at a distance. The men in driving 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 AN ASSAULT 
 
 245 
 
 their oxen commonly make most noise 
 with their voices ; and now a regard to 
 their own safety dictates to them to speak 
 to their cattle, as they move on, in a whis 
 pering note. 
 
 " There are no bad roads to require an 
 exertion ; for the frost having been of 
 long continuance, they are so hard frozen 
 as to be quite good. The wind lies to 
 carry what noise can not be avoided in 
 driving the stakes, and picking against 
 the ground (still frozen above eighteen 
 inches deep in many places), into the har 
 bor between the town and the castle, so 
 that it can not be heard and regarded by 
 any who do not suspect what is going on, 
 especially as there is a continued cannon 
 ade on both sides. Many of the carts 
 make three trips, some four ; for a vast 
 quantity of materials has been collected, 
 especially chandeliers and fascines. 
 
 " By ten o clock at night the troops 
 have raised two forts, one upon each hill, 
 sufficient to defend them from small-arms 
 and grape-shot. The night is remarka 
 bly mild; a finer for working could not 
 have been selected out of the three hun 
 dred and sixty-five. They continue work 
 ing with the utmost diligence until re 
 lieved at three o clock next morning. It 
 is so hazy below the heights, that the men 
 can not be seen, though it is a bright 
 moonlight night above on the hills. 
 
 " It is some time after daybreak before 
 the ministerialists in Boston can clearly 
 discern the new-erected forts. They loom 
 to great advantage, and are thought to 
 be much larger than is really the case. 
 General Howe is astonished upon seeing 
 what has been done ; scratches his head, 
 
 and is heard to say: I know nci: what I 
 shall do ; the rebels have done more in 
 one night than my whole army would 
 have done in months ! " 
 
 Washington felt confident that this 
 movement of his troops would bring on 
 an attack from the enemy ; and he pre 
 pared in case of this event which he 
 not only supposed probable, but eagerly 
 hoped for to make an assault, while the 
 British should be engaged in the direc 
 tion of Dorchester heights, on another 
 part of Boston to the west. He had ac 
 cordingly ordered four thousand picked 
 troops to be in readiness to embark on 
 forty-five batteaux which had been pre 
 pared for the purpose, and were moored 
 at the mouth of Charles river, under the 
 cover of two floating batteries. These 
 troops were formed in two divisions : 
 General Sullivan leads the first, General 
 Greene the second ; and all are under the 
 general command of Putnam. 
 
 The whole plan of defence and offence 
 has been settled by Washington. Every 
 movement of the enemy is watched : from 
 the hills, which command a view of Bos 
 ton, the officers can observe with their 
 glasses everything that takes place in the 
 city which lies below them. Proper sig 
 nals are arranged, by which intelligence 
 can be rapidly communicated from height 
 to height from Dorchester to Roxbury, 
 and from Roxbury to Cambridge. The 
 boats being prepared, and the troops in 
 readiness to embark, Washington is on 
 the alert, when the enemy attack the 
 American position on Dorchester heights, 
 and are defeated, to signalize to Putnam 
 to send his four thousand men across from 
 
246 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 Cambridge to assault the city, while the 
 British are in a state of confusion from 
 their expected repulse. 
 
 All is hurry and bustle in Boston. Gen 
 eral Howe is collecting all the ladders in 
 town, and having them cut to the proper 
 length for scaling. A large body of troops 
 is drawn up by the water-side ; and the 
 transportrvessels are weighing their an 
 chors, in readiness to receive them. The 
 men finally embark ; an observer reports 
 that most look pale and dejected, and 
 some are heard to say, with a sad pre 
 sentiment, "It will be another Bunker s- 
 hill affair, or worse !" while others, in a 
 spirit of bravado, talk of how they intend 
 " to serve the rebels." The gallant Lord 
 Percy commands the force, and all seems 
 read} for the attack. 
 
 The Americans, as they behold this 
 movement of the British troops, clap 
 
 their hands for joy, and " wish 
 March 5. J n J > 
 
 them to come on. Washington 
 
 is on the heights, and says to those about 
 him, " Remember it is the 5th of March, 
 and avenge the death of your brethren !" 
 "What says the general ?" eagerly in 
 quire those who had not distinctly heard 
 his words. " Remember it is the 5th of 
 March, and avenge the death of your 
 brethren !" is repeated in answer, and 
 passed rapidly from man to man, until 
 the whole body of troops is aroused to 
 martial excitement, as by an electric 
 flash. 
 
 Crowds of people gather upon the sur 
 rounding hills, and with hushed lips and 
 beating hearts fearfully await the com 
 ing struggle. They wait and wait un 
 til the evening, straining their eyes to 
 
 catch, if possible, through the gathering 
 darkness, the approach of the enemy. 
 Night closes; the tide ebbs; the struggle 
 is put off until another day ; the specta 
 tors go homeward, with sad expectations 
 of the morrow. Mrs. Adams is amon^ 
 
 O 
 
 these anxious beholders, and on return 
 ing home, before retiring for the night, 
 writes a hurried note to her absent hus 
 band : " I have just returned," she says, 
 " from Penn s hill, where I have been sit 
 ting 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 !" She goes to bed, but not to sleep, 
 for she writes on the following morning : 
 " 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 engage 
 ment; 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." 
 
 The troops continue their work, while 
 the whole camp is on the alert for the 
 call of duty at any moment. The bom 
 bardment goes on from both sides during 
 the whole night. The British transports 
 and floating batteries are hauled out in 
 the night, to be in readiness for the de 
 barkation of the troops on the next day; 
 but, in attempting to make their way to 
 Castle William, their rendezvous, the wind 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] EVACUATION OF BOSTON RESOLVED UPON. 
 
 247 
 
 proves unfavorable, and blows with such 
 a gale, that three of the vessels are driven 
 ashore, and the rest are obliged to return. 
 The gale increases to a storm which rages 
 all the night and next day, while torrents 
 of rain keep pouring down. The attack 
 is postponed once more ; for, with the vio 
 lence of the wind, and the heavy surf 
 beating against the shore, it is in vain to 
 attempt to land the troops. 
 
 In the meantime, the Americans con 
 tinued to strengthen their fortifications. 
 The quartermaster-general, Mifflin, who 
 had the supervision of the work, was in 
 defatigable in his exertions. Having 
 brought upon the ground the buildings 
 already framed, he had the men in three 
 days under the cover of fairly comfortable 
 barracks. Moreover, he ingeniously de 
 vised a new species of arms, which prom 
 ised to prove of great effect. These were 
 barrels filled with stones, gravel, and sand, 
 and placed round the works in readiness 
 to be rolled down against the enemy, in 
 order to break their ranks and legs, if 
 they should venture to attempt to ad 
 vance up the hill. 
 
 Another day passes, and the 
 weather continuing unfavorable 
 the British still hold back ; and, finally, 
 giving up all hopes of dislodging the pa 
 triots from their now formidable position 
 on Dorchester heights, they determine 
 to evacuate Boston. Howe had no other 
 alternative. The last spirited and effect 
 ual movement of the Americans, favored 
 by the weather, so propitious to them 
 and so fatal to their enemy, had made 
 the town untenable. The admiral had 
 told Howe that, if the Americans contin- 
 
 Marcli 6, 
 
 ued in possession of the heights of Dor 
 chester, not one of his majesty s ships 
 could be kept in the harbor; and Howe 
 was now forced to admit that his enemy 
 was too formidable to be dislodged. The 
 British army, thus hemmed in, was use 
 less for offence, and would soon be inca 
 pable of defence ; the fleet, thus exposed, 
 was in hourly danger, and could only 
 save itself by sailing away. 
 
 Howe had long been in favor of remo 
 ving the scene of hostilities from Boston 
 to New York, but had never expressed 
 a doubt of the safety of his army in its 
 present position. He had, in fact, in his 
 despatch to the British government, de 
 clared, " We are not under the least ap 
 prehension of an attack upon this place 
 from the rebels, by surprise or otherwise." 
 So far was he from having any fears on 
 that score, that he expresses the wish that 
 " they would attempt so rash a step, and 
 quit those strong intrenchments to which 
 they may attribute their present safety." 
 He had felt perfectly secure, and had de 
 termined to take his own good time, when 
 the spring had fairly advanced, and rein 
 forcements had come in from Great Brit 
 ain, in shifting the scene of war from Mas 
 sachusetts to a southern province. On 
 the morning when those works on Dor 
 chester heights which had been raised 
 in a single night, " with an expedition," 
 as a British officer wrote, " equal to that 
 of the genii belonging to Aladdin s won 
 derful lamp" struck the astonished eyes 
 of Howe, he felt for the first some "ap 
 prehension" of the "rebels." When, more 
 over, Nature herself seemed to join the 
 Americans, and he was baffled by the 
 
248 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 winds and storms in his only hope of tri 
 umph, he wisely submitted to his misfor- 
 t une, and judiciously giving up all thought 
 of victory, sought only a means of escape. 
 
 Great preparations were now made in 
 Boston, evidently for departure. The 
 transports were preparing for sea with 
 the utmost expedition. There was the 
 greatest movement and confusion among 
 the troops. Night and day they were 
 hurrying down their cannon, ammunition, 
 and stores, to the wharves. Such was the 
 haste with which they were loading the 
 vessels, that no time was taken to make 
 even a memorandum of what was put on 
 board. The carpenters were hard at work 
 on the transports, fitting up bunks for the 
 soldiers and cabins for the officers, and 
 there was everywhere proof of an early 
 intention on the part of the British to 
 escape from Boston. 
 
 Intelligence of Howe s resolution was 
 now conveyed to the American camp, in 
 a manner which, although not directly 
 official, could leave no doubt of the fact. 
 A flag of truce came out from the enemy, 
 with a letter, which was received by Colo 
 nel Learned, in command of the advance 
 post at Roxbury. This communication, 
 being taken to headquarters, was there 
 opened by Washington, for whom it was 
 evidently intended, although not so ad 
 dressed. Here is the letter : 
 
 "BOSTON, 8th March, 1776. 
 
 "As his excellency General Howe is 
 determined to leave the town, with the 
 troops under his command, a number of 
 the respectable inhabitants being very 
 anxious for its preservation and safety, 
 have applied to General Robertson for 
 
 this purpose, who at their request has 
 communicated the same to his excellen 
 cy General Howe, who has assured him 
 that he has no intention of destroying the 
 town, unless the troops under his com 
 mand are molested during their embarka 
 tion, or at their departure, by the armed 
 force without ; which declaration he gave 
 General Robertson leave to communicate 
 to the inhabitants. If such an opposition 
 should take place, we have the greatest 
 reason to expect the town will be exposed 
 to entire destruction. Our fears are qui 
 eted with regard to General Howe s in 
 tentions. We beg we may have some 
 assurance that so dreadful a calamity may 
 not be brought on by any measures with 
 out. As a testimony of the truth above, 
 we have signed our names to this paper, 
 carried out by Messrs. Thomas and Jona 
 than Amory and Peter Johannot, who 
 have, at the earnest entreaties of the in 
 habitants, through the lieutenant-govern 
 or, solicited a flag of truce for the pur 
 pose. "JOHN SCOLLAY, 
 
 "TIMOTHY NEWELL, 
 " THOMAS MARSHALL, 
 " SAMUEL AUSTIN." 
 
 Howe had succeeded in frightening the 
 inhabitants by his threat to burn the town 
 in case of his being assaulted by Wash 
 ington s troops, and effected the object 
 he is said to have intended. His pride 
 is supposed to have revolted at making 
 terms of capitulation directly with the 
 " rebel" leader ; and at the same time, be 
 ing conscious how much he was at the 
 mercy of his enemy, he was desirous of 
 securing conditions of safety to his army. 
 The citizens of Boston, as was expected, 
 
KISVOIMJTrOXARY.] 
 
 NO ATTACK NO FIRE. 
 
 249 
 
 took the alarm, and, by writing the letter, 
 did as was hoped and probably suggested. 
 Washington, on receiving the commu 
 nication, called together such of the gen 
 eral officers as he could immediately as 
 semble, and with their advice determined 
 not to answer it, as it was not addressed 
 to him, nor signed or authenticated by 
 General Howe. It was, however, thought 
 proper to direct Colonel Learned, to whom 
 the letter had been first presented, to an 
 swer it thus : 
 
 ROXBURY, March 9, 1776. 
 
 " GENTLEMEN : Agreeably to a promise 
 made to you at the lines yesterday, I 
 waited upon his excellency General Wash 
 ington, and presented to him the paper 
 handed to me by you, from the selectmen 
 of Boston. The answer I received from 
 him was to this effect: that as it was an 
 unauthenticated paper, without an ad 
 dress, and not obligatory upon General 
 Howe, he would take no notice of it. I 
 am, with esteem and respect, gentlemen, 
 your most obedient servant, 
 
 "EBENEZER LEARNED. 
 
 "To MESSRS. AMOIIY AND JOHANXOT." 
 
 Somehow or other, the object of the 
 letter was obtained, through a tacit un 
 derstanding between the two general;?, 
 although each dodged the responsibility 
 of committing himself to a written agree 
 ment. "General Washington," writes a 
 chronicler of the time, brought himself 
 under no obligation ; but expressed him 
 self in words which admitted of a favora 
 ble construction, and intimated his good 
 wishes for the towns-people." General 
 Howe probably never thought seriously 
 of burning the city. His preparations for 
 
 32 
 
 departure were such as to indicate no 
 such intention. Washington himself had 
 come to that conclusion ; for he infers, 
 " from the destruction they are making 
 of sundry pieces of furniture, of many of 
 their wagons, carts, &c., which they can 
 not take with them," that there is no de 
 sign to burn the city, for in that case the 
 whole might have been destroyed togeth 
 er. At any rate, Washington did not at 
 tack, and Howe did not burn. 
 
 The Americans, however, went on with 
 their works, and now attempted to take 
 possession of Nook s hill, which was still 
 nearer Boston than Dorchester heights, 
 and completely commanded the town. 
 
 Washington sent out during the 
 
 . March 8, 
 
 night a strong force to raise a 
 
 redoubt, and establish a position there. 
 On reaching the height, however, some 
 of the men imprudently lighted a fire, 
 which alarmed the British, and drew from 
 their ships a heavy cannonade, which, al 
 though well returned by the American 
 batteries, was so severe, that the patriots 
 were forced to retire. The camp and the 
 whole country round were kept in a state 
 of anxious excitement by the incessant 
 firing throughout the night. Mrs. Adams 
 is again on the alert with her ever-ready 
 pen, and writes to her husband on Sun 
 day evening, March 10: "A most terrible 
 and incessant cannonade from half-after 
 eight till six this morning. I hear we 
 lost four men killed, and some wounded, 
 in attempting to take the hill nearest to 
 the town, called Nook s hill. We did some 
 work, but the fire from the ships beat off 
 our men, so that they did not secure it, 
 but retired to the fort on the other hill." 
 
250 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 * 
 
 General Howe s Proclamation. Crean Brush, Esquire. His Proceedings. Impatience of Howe to depart. The Licence 
 of Sailors and Soldiers. Howe threatens. Offers Rewards. Washington hastens the Departure of the British by 
 another and Successful Attempt on Nook s Hill. The Result. The British depart. The Inhabitants of Boston. 
 Alarms of Fire. The Precipitate Hurry of the Enemy. The Tories anxious to get away. Many of them unable to 
 escape. The Patriot Army enters Boston. Appearance of the City. Washington s Letters to his Brother and John 
 Hancock. The Small-Pox. General Heath sent with a Detachment to New York. The Puzzling Movements of the 
 British Fleet. It sails at last. The Joy of the Enemy at getting away. Tribute of Honor to Washington. The 
 Evacuation of Boston. How received in England. 
 
 1776. 
 
 Mar. 10. 
 
 THE attempt on Nook s hill, al 
 though temporarily unsuccessful, 
 served to hasten the preparations for de 
 parture of the British. General Howe 
 issued a proclamation, which was 
 addressed to Crean Brush, Es 
 quire, an inveterate tory of New York, 
 who had become notorious as an impor 
 tunate adviser and an active and insolent 
 agent of British tyranny. The procla 
 mation was printed in the form of a hand 
 bill, and was circulated throughout the 
 city. These are its words : 
 
 "Sin: I am informed there are large 
 quantities of goods in the town of Bos 
 ton, which, if in possession of the rebels, 
 would enable them to carry on war. And 
 whereas I have given notice to all loyal 
 inhabitants to remove such goods from 
 hence, and that all who do not remove 
 them, or deliver them to your care, will 
 be considered as abettors of rebels, You 
 are hereby authorized and required to 
 take into your possession all such goods 
 as answer this description, and give cer 
 tificates to the owners that you have re 
 ceived them for their use, and will deliv 
 er them to the owners order, unavoidable 
 accidents excepted. And you are to 
 
 make inquiry if any such goods be se 
 creted or left in stores ; and you are to 
 seize all such and put them on board the 
 Minerva ship or the brigantine Elizabeth. 
 
 " Given under my hand, at headquar 
 ters, Boston, this 10th day of March, 1776. 
 " W. HOWE, Com. Chief. 
 
 " To CREAN BRUSH, Esquire." 
 
 This order was interpreted by Crean 
 Brush, Esquire, with all the liberality of 
 insolence for which he was notorious. Va 
 rious shops, belonging to persons in the 
 country were broken open, and all goods 
 of whatever sort or kind (although Howe 
 had more particularly specified, in one of 
 his orders, linens and woollens) were ta 
 ken out and put on board ship, to be car 
 ried away. Brush was not content with 
 despoiling the absent, but, growing more 
 audacious, in the confusion of the ap 
 proaching departure of the troops, he be 
 gan to strip the shops of all their goods, 
 in the very face of the owners who were 
 in town ! Under this apparent official 
 sanction, the soldiers and sailors went 
 about plundering and committing depre 
 dations. Shops, stores, and dwelling- 
 houses, were entered by these ruthless 
 robbers, who destroyed what they could 
 

REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 NOOK S HILL TAKEN. 
 
 251 
 
 not carry away. Howe strove to check 
 the villains by proclamations and or 
 ders ; but, although he threatened the 
 guilty with death, they continued their 
 pillage. 
 
 The British commander was now evi 
 dently impatient to depart. The streets 
 were barricaded in different parts of the 
 town, and proclamation was made by the 
 crier for every inhabitant to keep 
 to his house from eleven o clock 
 in the morning till night, that there might 
 be no interference with the troops, who 
 were now disposed in readiness for em 
 barkation. The wind, however, being 
 unfavorable for the ships, the departure 
 was postponed, and the troops sent back 
 to their quarters. The soldiers thus de 
 tained were thrown loose from their or 
 dinary discipline, and had "little else to 
 study but mischief, which they practised 
 to a great degree, by breaking open stores 
 and tossing the contents, being private 
 property, into the dock ; destroying the 
 furniture of every house they could get 
 into, and otherwise committing every 
 kind of wantonness which disappointed 
 malice could suggest." The naval depart 
 ment acted in ready concert of licentious 
 ness with the military, and sailors landed 
 in gangs from the ships of war (led, it was 
 said, by officers), and went about the city, 
 rifling and destroying everything within 
 their reach. Howe continued by procla 
 mation to threaten the rogues with hang 
 ing, but with little or no effect. He 
 proved his anxious loyalty by securing 
 safety to its appurtenances, by the more 
 effective system of pecuniary awards: he 
 offered fifty pounds sterling for the con- 
 
 Mar, 13. 
 
 Mar, 16. 
 
 viction of any one found cutting or de 
 facing the king s or queen s picture hang 
 ing in the townhouse, which had already 
 been entered and somewhat damaged 
 by his lawless soldiers. 
 
 These delays of the British in evacua 
 ting Boston were a disappointment to 
 Washington, as he fully expected that 
 he would have got rid of them 
 before. He was now well per 
 suaded of their intention of going, as all 
 their movements indicated it ; but he felt 
 that it was necessary to continue on his 
 guard, lest after all it should prove a feint 
 to deceive him. He resolved, with the 
 advice of his council, to precipitate Howe s 
 movements, by making another attempt 
 on Nook s hill. A strong force was ac 
 cordingly detached for this pur 
 pose; and it succeeded in taking 
 possession, erecting a breastwork, and 
 holding that important post, in spite of a 
 sharp cannonade from the enemy. 
 
 This successful movement of the Amer 
 icans was what " the king s troops had 
 most fearfully dreaded," as Nook s hill 
 gave Washington the entire command of 
 Boston neck and the south end of the 
 town. The British commander now no 
 longer hesitated, and began to embark 
 his troops as early as two o clock on the 
 next morning (Sunday), and had 
 every man on board and the ships 
 under sail before ten. The whole number 
 of soldiers thus hastily shipped amounted 
 to seven thousand five hundred and sev 
 enty-five. These, with the sailors and 
 marines, made up the entire available 
 force of the British, to the number of 
 about ten thousand. 
 
 Mar. 17. 
 
252 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 So soon as the last red-coat disappeared, 
 the inhabitants hurried out of their dwel 
 lings and began anxiously to seek for any 
 lurking evidences of fire. Combustibles, 
 so placed as to indicate a design of burn 
 ing the town, were found in some of the 
 houses. These preparations had proba 
 bly been made to carry out the threat of 
 Howe, in case of being fired upon during 
 embarkation. The Americans, however, 
 did not fire a shot. " Our troops," wrote 
 an English officer, " did not receive the 
 smallest molestation, though the rebels 
 were all night at work on the near hill 
 ...and we kept a constant fire upon them 
 from a battery of twenty-four pounders. 
 They did not return a single shot. It 
 was lucky for the inhabitants now left in 
 Boston they did not ; for I am informed 
 everything was prepared to set the town 
 in a blaze, had they fired one cannon." 
 
 The hurry of the retreat is shown by 
 this graphic letter of another British offi 
 cer : " Our not being burdened with pro 
 visions, permitted us to save some stores 
 and ammunition, the light fieldpieces 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 precau 
 tion taken that our circumstances \vould 
 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 tran 
 sports in embarking their goods, so that 
 several of the vessels were entirely filled 
 
 with private property, instead of the 
 king s stores. By some unaccountable ac 
 cident, 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 neces 
 sary care and distress of the women, chil 
 dren, 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 depart 
 ing 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 ."* 
 
 The departure of the British from Bos 
 ton had been so sudden and unexpected, 
 that there had not been provided a suffi 
 cient number of vessels, properly appoint 
 ed, for carrying away the fugitives. In 
 addition to the troops, there were nearly 
 a thousand of the inhabitants who were 
 either so attached to the royal cause that 
 they preferred to go, or who were so far 
 suspected of tory principles that they did 
 not think it prudent to remain. These 
 greatly encumbered the transports with 
 their numbers, and their plunder and ef 
 fects. The ships, too, had been hurried 
 away so quickly, that many of them were 
 quite unfit for sea. Some had hauled out 
 even before their yards, booms, and bow- 
 
 * Remembrancer, vol. iii., p. 108 ; quoted by Irving. 
 
HEVOLU-nONARY.] 
 
 THE PROVINCIALS ENTER BOSTON. 
 
 sprits, had been bent ; and the fleet was 
 now supposed to be delaying, in the Nan- 
 tasket roads, where it had come to an 
 chor, in consequence of not being in a fit 
 condition to sail, particularly at a season 
 when the equinoctial gale was hourly to 
 be expected. 
 
 As soon as the British troops had left 
 Bunker s hill, and were observed passing 
 in crowds to the ships at anchor below 
 the castle, the continental forces were 
 drawn out in parade. Several regiments, 
 under the command of Putnam, then em 
 barked immediately in boats, and went 
 down the river; while two men were sent 
 in advance to Bunker s hill, to reconnoi 
 tre that position and report upon its con 
 dition. As the latter approached, they 
 were surprised to find the British sentries 
 still at their posts; but, advancing cau 
 tiously till they came close to the works, 
 they discovered that the supposed sol 
 diers on guard were merely wooden men, 
 with muskets on their shoulders, which 
 the enemy had put up there, to conceal 
 the moment of their departure, and thus 
 guard themselves against an attack du 
 ring their flight. The two Americans, 
 finding the fort entirely deserted, made 
 a signal to the camp, and a detachment 
 of soldiers was immediately ordered to 
 take possession. 
 
 The troops which sailed down the river 
 had in the meantime landed at Sewall s 
 point, where, learning that all the British 
 had left Boston, a portion of them entered 
 to take possession, and the main body re 
 turned to Cambridge. At the same time, 
 General Ward with about five hundred 
 troops, under the immediate command 
 
 of Colonel Learned who unbarred and 
 opened the gates entered Boston from 
 the Roxbury quarter. On their way over 
 the Neck, the men picked up numbers of 
 crowfeet, which had been scattered there 
 by the enemy. The "crowfoot" is an iron 
 instrument, consisting of a round ball with 
 spikes, so arranged that it will wound the 
 step of horse or man in whatever manner 
 it may be thrown. 
 
 Everything in Boston showed the pre 
 cipitation with which the British had de 
 parted. Their barracks and other works 
 on Bunker s hill, although of wood, were 
 all left standing, while but a small part 
 of their lines was destroyed. Some two 
 hundred and fifty cannon, among them 
 a very large iron mortar, had been left 
 behind, and one piece of artillery was 
 thrown into the water from the end of 
 the wharf. Some thirty thousand pounds 
 of powder, twenty-five hundred chaldrons 
 of sea-coal, twenty-five thousand bushels 
 of wheat, twenty-three hundred bushels 
 of barley, six hundred bushels of oats, a 
 hundred jars of oil, and a hundred and 
 fifty horses, were among the stores left 
 by the British in their haste to get away. 
 
 Washington, in a letter to his brother, 
 says: "The enemy left all their works 
 standing in Boston and on Bunker s hill; 
 and formidable they are. The town has 
 shared a much better fate than was ex 
 pected, the damage done to the houses 
 being nothing equal to report. But the 
 inhabitants have suffered a good deal in 
 being plundered by the soldiery at their 
 departure. All those who took upon 
 themselves the style and title of govern 
 ment-men in Boston, in short all those 
 
254 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 who have acted an unfriendly part in this 
 great contest, have shipped themselves off 
 in the same hurry, but under still greater 
 disadvantage than the king s troops, be 
 ing obliged to man their own vessels, as 
 seamen enough could not be had for the 
 king s transports, and submit to every 
 hardship that can be conceived. One or 
 two have done, what a great number 
 ought to have done long ago, committed 
 suicide. By all accounts, there never ex 
 isted a more miserable set of beings than 
 these wretched creatures now are : taught 
 to believe that the power of Great Brit 
 ain was superior to all opposition, and, if 
 not, that foreign aid was at hand, they 
 were even higher and more insulting in 
 their opposition than the regulars. When 
 the order issued, therefore, for the em 
 barking the troops in Boston, no electric 
 shock, no sudden explosion of thunder, 
 in a word, not the last trump, could have 
 struck them with greater consternation. 
 They were at their wits end, and, con 
 scious of their black ingratitude, they 
 chose to commit themselves, in the man 
 ner I have above described, to the mercy 
 of the waves at a tempestuous season, 
 rather than meet their oifended country 
 men." 
 
 Washington, in his letter to John Han 
 cock, the president of Congress, was en 
 abled to say: "I have a particular pleas 
 ure in being able to inform you, sir, that 
 your house has received no damage worth 
 mentioning. Your furniture is in toler 
 able order, and the family pictures are 
 all left entire and untouched." This was 
 a fortunate result, which Hancock well 
 merited for his patriotic readiness of self- 
 
 sacrifice, when, in communicating the re 
 solve of Congress (December 22), author 
 izing Washington to make an assault up 
 on the enemy, "notwithstanding the town 
 and property in it might be destroyed," 
 he had written : " May God crown your 
 attempt with success ! I most heartily 
 wish it, though I may be the greatest suf 
 ferer." 
 
 The small-pox was prevailing with se 
 verity in several parts of Boston, and ac 
 cordingly Washington, to prevent the 
 spread of the infection, forbade any one 
 to enter the town without a pass, which 
 was given but to few, except those who 
 had had the disease, or been protected 
 by inoculation. A great many, however, 
 who were from inland places, and had 
 never been in a seaport, were so far ex 
 cited by the natural curiosity of rustics 
 to see " the great town of Boston," that 
 they did not hesitate to resort to tricks 
 and fraud in order to gain admission. 
 "The thought of being liable to catch the 
 distemper would have terrified them in 
 the highest degree a little while back ; 
 but to gratify a different passion they 
 suppressed their fears, which might oper 
 ate for the preventing of their taking the 
 infection. The works of the enemy nat 
 urally engaged their attention. These, 
 by judicious persons who have surveyed 
 them, are acknowledged to be excellent, 
 and every one is convinced that it would 
 have been a most hazardous attempt to 
 have endeavored forcing them." 
 
 Washington, believing the scene of 
 war was to be shifted to New York, sent 
 five regiments and some artille- 
 ry there, under the command of 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BRITISH FLEET SAILS. 
 
 255 
 
 General Heath, and moved his main body 
 into Boston. On the next day he issued 
 a proclamation, enjoining mutual 
 good feeling and treatment on 
 the part of the soldiers and citizens ; and 
 soon a concourse of people from the coun 
 try came crowding into the town, " full 
 of friendly solicitude." Then were wit 
 nessed " the tender interviews and fond 
 embraces of those who had been long 
 separated under circumstances so pecu 
 liarly distressing." 
 
 The British fleet, after having, by fire 
 and powder, destroyed the works on Cas 
 tle William, dropped down, and lingered 
 for ten days in Nantasket roads. In the 
 .meantime, Washington was kept quite 
 anxious by its movements. " The ene 
 my," he says, " have the best knack at 
 puzzling people I ever met with in my 
 life. They have blown up, burnt, and de 
 molished the castle totally, and are now 
 all in Nantasket road. They have been 
 there ever since Wednesday. What they 
 are doing, the Lord knows." After spec 
 ulating upon various supposed causes of 
 the enemy s delay, Washington adds : 
 " My opinion of the matter is, that they 
 want to retrieve their disgrace before 
 they go off, and I think a favorable op 
 portunity presents itself to them. They 
 have now got their whole force into one 
 collected body, and no posts to guard. 
 We have detached six regiments to New 
 York, and have many points to look to ; 
 and, on Monday next, ten regiments of 
 militia, which were brought in to serve 
 till the first of April, will be disengaged. 
 From former experience, we have found 
 it as practicable to stop a torrent as these 
 
 people, when their time is up. If this 
 should be the case now, what more favor 
 able opening can the enemy wish for, to 
 make a push upon our lines, nay upon 
 the back of our lines at Roxbury, as they 
 can land two miles from there, and pass 
 behind ? I am under more apprehension 
 from them now than ever, and am taking 
 every precaution I can to guard against 
 the evil ; but we have a kind of people 
 to deal with who will not fear danger till 
 the bayonet is at their breast, and then 
 they are susceptible enough of it." 
 
 Washington went on preparing for the 
 worst, by fortifying ; and when he had 
 made considerable progress with his works 
 on the commanding position of Fort hill, 
 he had the satisfaction of finding the ene 
 my gone. The fleet finally sailed, with 
 the exception of a few cruisers, 
 which were left for the protec 
 tion of any British vessels which might 
 arrive off the New-England coast with 
 supplies for the British troops. The de 
 lay in the harbor seemed to have greatly 
 vexed the patience of some of the Eng 
 lish officers : "We were," writes one, "can 
 nonaded fourteen days by the provincial 
 army, and, at last, after many losses, em 
 barked on board several vessels, and are 
 got thus far. We do not know where 
 we are going, but are in great distress.... 
 I wish I was with you." "Our men have 
 suffered," writes another, who, better in 
 formed, knew where he was going. " We 
 have one consolation left. You know the 
 proverbial expression, Neither Hell, Hull, 
 nor Halifax, can afford worse shelter than 
 Boston. To fresh provision I have, for 
 many months, been an utter stranger. 
 
 Mar, 27, 
 
256 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 An egg was a rarity. Yet I submit. A 
 soldier may mention grievances, though 
 he should scorn to repine when he suffers 
 them. The next letter from Halifax." 
 Halifax, in fact, was the destination of 
 the fleet, and not New York, as Washing 
 ton supposed. 
 
 The evacuation of Boston by the Brit 
 ish was hailed throughout the colonies as 
 a great triumph for the American cause, 
 and Washington received congratulations 
 from all quarters on his success, and flat 
 tering testimonials to his skilful conduct 
 of the siege. First came the selectmen 
 of Boston, with an address ; then a long 
 and flattering testimonial from the coun 
 cil and house of representatives of Massa 
 chusetts ; and finally from Congress a 
 vote of thanks moved by John Adams, 
 and this letter, drawn up by him, John 
 Jay, and Stephen Hopkins : 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, April 2, 1776. 
 
 " Sir : It gives me the most sensible 
 pleasure to convey to you, by order of 
 Congress, the only tribute which a free 
 people will ever consent to pay the 
 tribute of thanks and gratitude to their 
 friends and benefactors. 
 
 " The disinterested and patriotic prin 
 ciples which led you to the field have also 
 led you to glory; and it affords no little 
 consolation to your countrymen to reflect 
 that, as a peculiar greatness of mind in 
 duced you to decline any compensation 
 for serving them, except the pleasure of 
 promoting their happiness, they may, 
 without your permission, bestow upon 
 you the largest share of their affection 
 and esteem. 
 
 " Those pages in the annals of America 
 
 will record your title to a conspicuous 
 place in the temple of fame, which shall 
 inform posterity that, under your direc 
 tions, an undisciplined band of husband 
 men, in the course of a few months, be 
 came soldiers ; and that the desolation 
 meditated against the country by a brave 
 army of veterans, commanded by the 
 most experienced generals, but employed 
 by bad men, in the worst of causes, was 
 by the fortitude of your troops, and the 
 address of their officers, next to the kind 
 interposition of Providence, confined for 
 near a year within such narrow limits as 
 scarcely to admit more room than was 
 necessary for the encampments and for 
 tifications they lately abandoned. 
 
 " Accept, therefore, sir, the thanks of 
 the united colonies, unanimously declared 
 by their delegates to be due to you, and 
 the brave officers and troops under your 
 command ; and be pleased to communi 
 cate to them this distinguished mark of 
 the approbation of their country. 
 
 " The Congress have ordered a golden 
 medal,* adapted to the occasion, to be 
 struck, and when finished to be presented 
 to you. 
 
 "I have the honor to be, with every 
 sentiment of esteem, sir, your most obe 
 dient and very humble servant, 
 
 " JOHN HANCOCK, President" 
 
 * "The medal, which was struck in Paris, contains on 
 the obverse a head of Washington in profile, exhibiting an 
 excellent likeness, and around it the inscription : Georgio 
 Washington supremo duci exercituum adsertori libertatis 
 comitia Americana. On the reverse is the town of Boston 
 in the distance, with a fleet in view under sail. Washington 
 and his officers are on horseback in the foreground, and he 
 is pointing to the ships as they depart from the harbor. 
 The inscription is : Hostibus primo fugatis Bostonium re- 
 cuperatum xvii. Martii, MDCCLXXVI." 
 
 SPARKS. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] AN ENGLISH DUKE APPLAUDS THE PATRIOTS. 
 
 257 
 
 Private individuals no less than public 
 bodies too 1 , occasion to congratulate and 
 compliment Washington upon his tri 
 umph. "I congratulate you," wrote John 
 Adams, " as well as all the friends of man 
 kind, on the reduction of Boston ; an 
 event which appeared to me of so great 
 and decisive importance, that, the next 
 morning after the arrival of the news, I 
 did myself the honor to move for the 
 thanks of Congress to your excellency, 
 and that a medal of gold should be struck 
 in commemoration of it." Eldridge Ger 
 ry declared, " I am at a loss to know how 
 Great Britain will reconcile all this to 
 her military glory." 
 
 The intelligence of the evacuation of 
 Boston was received in England with a 
 feeling of such surprise that few would 
 believe it true. There were those, how 
 ever, who were well aware of the fact, 
 and the duke of Manchester, in a remark 
 able speech in the house of lords, showed 
 that he was not only fully informed of 
 the circumstances of the flight from Bos 
 ton, but conscious how much they les 
 sened the prestige of Great Britain and 
 brightened the fame and hopes of the 
 colonies. " To come now, my lords," said 
 the duke, "to that which has cast the 
 deepest stain on the glory of the British 
 arms, to that which must rouse the indig 
 nation of all who feel for her disgrace ; 
 the arnry of Britain, equipped with every 
 possible essential of war, a chosen army, 
 33 
 
 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 that their 
 skill and abilities in war could ever at- 
 tempt. One way, indeed, of escape is 
 left ; the fleet is still respected ; to the 
 fleet the army has recourse ; and British 
 generals, whose names 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 na 
 tion more than a million to defend. We 
 are informed of this extraordinary event 
 by a gazette, published by authority from 
 government, in which it is related that 
 General Howe had quitted Boston ; no 
 circumstances mentioned to palliate the 
 event, no veil but that of silence to cast 
 over the disgrace. But, my lords, though 
 the government account is short and 1111- 
 circumstaiitial,yet private intelligence and 
 public report, on which, till it is with au 
 thenticity denied, I must rely, informs us 
 that General Howe quitted not Boston 
 of his own free will ; but that a superior 
 enemy by repeated efforts, by extraordi 
 nary works, by the fire of their batteries^ 
 rendered the place untenable." 
 
258 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Washington still perplexed about the Enemy s Movements. Another Command proposed for Lee. Canada first pro 
 posed. Finally the South. Lee goes to Virginia. Lord Stirling left in Command at New York. His Life and Char 
 acter. Sterling continues the Works at New York and on Long Island. Washington resolves upon going to New 
 York. General Thomas appointed to the Command of the American Troops in Canada. Arnold before Quebec. 
 General Wooster arrives at last. The Small-Pox among the Troops. Thomas, anxious to do something, sends 
 down the St. Lawrence a Fire-Ship. Failure. Retreat. Carleton sallies out. His Success. Death of Thomas. 
 The Canadians less favorably disposed toward the Cause of the Patriots. Washington s Solicitations about Canada. 
 Schuyler censured. His Character. Unpopular with the New Englandcrs. Why ? Defended by Washington. 
 Schuyler justifies himself. His life. 
 
 Mar, 27, 
 
 WASHINGTON was perplexed about the 
 destination of the British fleet. " Whither 
 they are bound and where they will next 
 pitch their tents I know not," he says, but 
 bolieving that New York was to be the 
 place he ordered the main body of his 
 army there, and determined soon to fol 
 low himself. General Lee, it 
 will be remembered, had with 
 his usual energy repressed the mischie 
 vous machinations of the tories, and driven 
 by his military operations, Governor Try- 
 on and the enemy s ships from the North 
 river to the safer distance of the bay, where 
 they were now moored off Staten island. 
 Congress had other occupation in view for 
 L ee, and ordered him to take the command 
 in Canada. These orders were hardly giv 
 en, however, when they were changed, and 
 it was resolved to send Lee to the South. 
 He would have preferred the Canadian 
 command, as he thought himself, from the 
 fact that he was the only general officer 
 on the continent who could speak or think 
 in French, the best adapted for that quar 
 ter. Washington seemed to be of the 
 same opinion, and wrote to Lee, saying: 
 " 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 Vir 
 ginian, I must rejoice at the change ; but 
 as an American, I think you would have 
 done more essential service to the com 
 mon 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 trav 
 elled in their country, must certainly take 
 the strongest hold of their affection and 
 confidence." Washington had a high 
 opinion of Lee s capacity, but was not 
 unconscious of his irritable and capricious 
 temper. To his brother John Augustine, 
 who remained at Mount Vernon, Wash 
 ington writes: "General Lee, I suppose, 
 is with you before this. He is the first 
 officer, in military knowledge and expe 
 rience, 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 (Virginians) upon his ap 
 pointment to that department." 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 HIS LORDSHIP OF STIRLING. 
 
 259 
 
 Lee accordingly proceeded to Virginia, 
 . and soon after his arrival, in an 
 swer to a letter he had received 
 from Washington at Boston, giving an 
 account of his success there ; wrote : " I 
 must sincerely congratulate you, I con 
 gratulate the public on the great and 
 glorious event, your possession of Boston. 
 It will be a most bright page in the an 
 nals of America, and a most abominably 
 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." 
 What he says of himself in the same let 
 ter, does not seem so satisfactory, and is 
 stated in his usual half-humorous, half- 
 discontented tone : " My situation 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 my 
 self, where to fix myself. The circum 
 stances of the country intersected by 
 navigable rivers, the uncertainty of the 
 enemy s designs and motions, who can fly 
 in an instant to any spot they choose with 
 their canvass wings, throw me, and would 
 throw Julius Cesar, 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 I have a very good 
 chance of surmising; wrong;. I am sorrv 
 
 O O */ 
 
 to grate your ears with a truth, but must 
 at all events assure you, that the provin 
 cial Congress of New York are angels of 
 decision when compared with your coun 
 trymen, the committee of safety assem 
 
 bled at Williamsburgh. Page, Lee, Mer 
 cer, and Payne are indeed exceptions ; 
 but from Pendleton, Bland, the treasurer, 
 and Company, libera nos domine" 
 
 When Lee departed for the South, Lord 
 Stirling was left in command of the troops 
 at New York. William Alexander was 
 the genuine name of his "lordship," but 
 he was always called Lord Stirling by the 
 Americans, probably to compensate him 
 for the obstinate resistance to his claim 
 in Great Britain, where he had made an 
 unsuccessful effort for a recognition of 
 his title as earl. He was a great stickler 
 for the lordship. On one occasion being 
 present at the execution of a soldier for 
 desertion, the criminal repeatedly cried 
 out, "the Lord have mercy on me;" his 
 lordship, with warmth, exclaimed, " I wont, 
 you rascal, I wont have mercy on you."* 
 His father was a Scotchman who had gone 
 to America to escape the consequences 
 of having engaged in the unsuccessful 
 rebellion in behalf of the Pretender in 
 1715. He settled in New York where 
 he married the daughter of a fortunate 
 speculator called "Ready-money Provost," 
 and where his son William was born in 
 1726. The youth had an early inclina 
 tion for war, and volunteering for the 
 French and Indian campaign, served as 
 aid-de-camp to General Shirley. Subse 
 quently, visiting England, he laid his claim 
 to the earldom of Stirling before the 
 house of lords, and upon its not being 
 allowed, he returned to America, where 
 his rights to the "lordship" were always 
 afterward recognised by courtesy. He 
 now married the daughter of Philip Liv 
 
 * Thacher. 
 
260 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 ingston, the " second lord of the manor," 
 and building " a fine mansion" in New 
 Jersey, went to live there. On the break 
 ing out of the difficulties with Great Brit 
 ain, Lord Stirling joined the popular cause, 
 and after being appointed colonel of the 
 first battalion of New Jersey militia, was 
 finally promoted by Congress to the rank 
 of brigadier-general. Lee spoke of him 
 as " Alexander pas le grand, mais le gros" 
 
 Stirling being now in command of some 
 twenty-five hundred men, and continuing 
 to carry into execution the plans of defence 
 for New York and Long island which had 
 been formed by General Lee, awaited the 
 arrival of the main body of the army. 
 Washington having sent most of his troops 
 in two large detachments, the first under 
 the immediate command of Brigadier- 
 General Heath, and the second under 
 Brigadier-General Sullivan, ordered Gen 
 eral Putnam to New York, to assume the 
 general command, and to pro 
 ceed " to execute the plan pro 
 posed by Major-General Lee for fortifying 
 the city and securing the passes of the 
 East and North rivers." Washington 
 himself did not propose yet to set out 
 for a week or more. 
 
 While Washington had determined to 
 proceed to New York, and Lee had been 
 sent to Virginia to meet the expected 
 operations of the enemy in those quar 
 ters, Congress was not unmindful of the 
 important interests at risk in the North. 
 General Thomas was accordingly ap 
 pointed to take command of the Ameri 
 can troops in Canada, where we left them, 
 as will be recollected, after the repulse 
 of their assault upon Quebec, encamped 
 
 Mar, 29, 
 
 within three miles of the walls of the city, 
 apparently for the winter. 
 
 Arnold s small force having received 
 some additions from a few straggling 
 soldiers who, in spite of the severity of 
 the season and the hardships of a long 
 journey through the snow and over the 
 frozen rivers, had succeeded in making 
 their way to the camp, the Americans 
 were enabled to hold their ground, and 
 do something, by means of their ice-bat 
 teries, in keeping up the show of a siege. 
 Sir Guy Carleton kept within his walls 
 and showed a degree of caution that could 
 only be attributed to the distrust of his 
 own people, whose loyalty was somewhat 
 dubious, and not to any dread of his ene 
 my, whose aspect was by no means for 
 midable. He seemed more desirous of 
 exercising benevolence than hostility 
 toward his opponents. He treated his 
 prisoners with a kindness and generosity, 
 so great, that no chronicler of the events 
 of those days has failed to give his testi 
 mony to the humanity of Governor Carle- 
 ton. He sent out to the American camp 
 for the clothes of those held captive in 
 Quebec, and allowed their friends to send 
 them money and such necessaries and 
 luxuries as they might require. 
 
 General Wooster passed the whole win 
 ter in inactivity at Montreal, while Arnold 
 was encamped before Quebec. 
 He came at last as the spring 
 opened, and brought such an addition to 
 the American force as raised it to the ap 
 parently respectable number of two thous 
 and eight hundred and fifty-five ; but one 
 third at least of these, were prostrate with 
 small-pox. A girl, who was a nurse in 
 
 April 1. 
 
REVOLUTIONAKY.] 
 
 A SALLY FROM QUEBEC. 
 
 261 
 
 the hospital at Quebec, had some friends 
 in the American camp, whom she came 
 oat to visit, and was supposed thus to 
 have brought the infection among the 
 troops. The disease soon after broke out 
 and began to spread, when many of the 
 men inoculated themselves, and thus be 
 came disabled for duty. On the arrival, 
 however, of Wooster, in spite of the con 
 dition of the troops, something was at 
 tempted in the way of action, by cannon 
 ading the enemy, and more vigorous 
 measures, doubtless, would have followed, 
 had not Arnold been disabled by an inju 
 ry to his wounded leg from the fall of his 
 horse. This accident, which kept him in 
 bed for a fortnight, was a serious matter 
 for the Americans, for without Arnold the 
 soul of the enterprise was gone. With 
 this misfortune, and with his spirit chafed 
 at the conduct of Wooster who, being 
 his superior in command, did not yield 
 as readily to Arnold s imperiousness as 
 he would have wished, Arnold asked leave 
 of absence, which was granted, and he 
 retired to Montreal. Wooster did nothing 
 until the arrival of General Thomas to 
 whom he yielded up the command. 
 
 Thomas, on his arrival, was anxious to 
 attempt something, and he therefore, as 
 the St. Lawrence was free of ice, 
 prepared a fire-ship. At the same 
 time making ready his scaling-ladders, he 
 drew up his forces with the view of mak 
 ing an assault. The fire-ship was sent 
 adrift at night, and floating with the flood- 
 tide toward Quebec was supposed by the 
 enemy at first to be a friendly vessel. 
 As she neared, however, the shipping, her 
 true character was discovered, and the 
 
 May 1, 
 
 batteries began to fire upon her. The 
 crew on board finding that their purpose 
 was discovered, lighted the train and 
 took to their boats. The ship was soon 
 in a blaze, but the sails taking fire, she 
 lost her headway, and the tide beginning 
 to ebb, she was carried down the river 
 and the whole attempt failed. 
 
 Next day, General Thomas, disappoint 
 ed by the failure of his plan, and finding 
 from the condition of his troops and the 
 scarcity of provisions that it was use 
 less to make an assault or to continue 
 the siege, determined to retreat. When 
 making preparations to carry out this 
 purpose, the enemy received a reinforce 
 ment by the arrival of a squadron from 
 Great Britain with several hundred troops 
 on board. Carleton, with this addition 
 to his troops, sallied out and made an at 
 tack upon the Americans who, in the con 
 fusion of their retreat which had already 
 begun, and being pressed by the enemy, 
 were forced to fly precipitately and aban 
 don their baggage, artillery, and stores. 
 There were a great number of sick among 
 the provincials, some of whom, with the 
 small-pox full upon them, strove, ill as 
 they were, to escape, while others gave 
 themselves up at once to the assailants, 
 and were treated by Carleton with his 
 usual considerate kindness. 
 
 The British did not continue the pur 
 suit far, or they might have totally de 
 stroyed the provincials. These, however, 
 continued their flight, night and day, for 
 a distance of forty-five miles. On reach 
 ing the mouth of the Sorel they halted, 
 and being reinforced by the arrival of 
 several regiments, encamped there for 
 
262 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 several days, during which period General 
 Thomas, who had sickened with the small 
 pox, died. As he had forbidden his troops, 
 that they might not be disabled by their 
 temporary illness, to b inoculated, he 
 refused himself to take advantage of the 
 only means then known of protection 
 against the fatal disease, and thus became 
 a sacrifice to the severity of military dis 
 cipline. General Sullivan now succeeded 
 to the command, superseding Wooster. 
 
 Affairs in Canada were a source of 
 great anxiety to all engaged in the Amer 
 ican cause. The friendly disposition at 
 one time evinced by the Canadians seems 
 greatly to have changed. When General 
 Montgomery first penetrated into the 
 country, he readily obtained men, wag 
 ons, and provisions; and when he was 
 before Quebec, offers of service were made 
 to him from a number of parishes, in the 
 neighboring country. His death, how 
 ever, added to other occurrences, had 
 caused such a change in the disposition 
 of the people, that, as an American offi 
 cer wrote, " we no longer look upon them 
 as friends, but, on the contrary, as waiting 
 an opportunity to join our enemies." The 
 clergy and landed proprietors had not 
 been properly conciliated, and they be 
 came unanimously opposed to the Amer 
 ican cause, and even while Montreal was 
 held by our troops, many of the inhabit 
 ants of consequence were supposed to be 
 carrying on a correspondence with Carle- 
 ton at Quebec. "With respect to the 
 better sort of people, both French and 
 English," wrote the same officer just 
 quoted, "seven eights are tories, who 
 would wish to see our throats cut, and 
 
 perhaps would readily assist in doing it." 
 The Americans were to blame greatly for 
 this result, for they not only neglected 
 to conciliate the better classes, but had 
 ill-used the peasantry. The inhabitants 
 had been " dragooned at the point of the 
 bayonet to supply wood for the garrison 
 at a lower rate than the current price. 
 For carriages and many other articles 
 furnished, certificates had been given that 
 were either not legible or without a sig 
 nature, and the consequence was that on 
 being presented they were rejected by 
 the quartermaster-general." The people 
 thus deceived became importunate in 
 their claims, which being only met by 
 vague promises, they concluded that their 
 labor and property had been expended 
 in vain, and had no longer faith in the 
 united colonies, which they believed bank 
 rupt. 
 
 Washington shared in this so 
 licitude about Canada, and wrote 
 to Schuyler : " The commotions among 
 the Canadians are alarming. I am afraid 
 proper measures have not been taken to 
 conciliate their affections; but rather that 
 they have been insulted and injured, than 
 which nothing could have a greater ten 
 dency to ruin our cause in that country. 
 For human nature is such, that it will ad 
 here to the side from whence the best treat 
 ment is received. I therefore conjure 
 you, sir, to recommend the officers and 
 soldiers in the strongest terms to treat 
 all the inhabitants, Canadians, English. 
 and savages, with tenderness and respect, 
 paying them punctually for what they 
 receive, or giving them such certificates 
 as will enable them to receive their pay." 
 
REVOLUTION ART.] 
 
 SCHUYLER VERSUS THE DEMOCRATS. 
 
 263 
 
 Congress, too, was so far impressed with 
 ihe unfortunate state of affairs in Canada, 
 and the necessity of a remedy, that it 
 appointed Dr. Franklin. Samuel Chase, 
 Charles Carroll of Carrollton, and the 
 Rev. John Carroll, a Roman catholic priest, 
 as commissioners to proceed to the North, 
 with the view of investigating and remov 
 ing grievances, and conciliating the Cana 
 dian people. Everything seemed to be 
 in such an ill condition, in regard to the 
 military operations in Canada, as almost 
 to justify the sweeping remark of a trav 
 eller of those days, who, after descanting 
 freely upon men and things in that quar 
 ter, declared over his bottle to some Amer 
 ican officers who were his chance com 
 panions at an inn in Albany : " In short, 
 gentlemen, we have commissioners there 
 without provisions; quartermasters with 
 out stores ; generals without troops ; and 
 troops without discipline, by G d." 
 
 General Schuyler was held responsible 
 by many of the New Englanders for the 
 disastrous condition of things at the North. 
 " In a time of adversity," says Irving, who 
 never fails to say a good word for Schuy 
 ler, " it relieves the public mind to have 
 some individual upon whom to charge its 
 disasters. General Schuyler, at present, 
 was to be the victim." He was charged 
 with having neglected to send forward 
 supplies and reinforcements to the troops 
 in Canada, and even treason was hinted 
 at by some of his enemies, in the bitter 
 ness of their hostility. Schuyler was not 
 a popular man with the New England 
 officers, many of whom were of too coarse 
 a mould to please his somewhat fastidious 
 tastes. His own associations were aristo 
 
 cratic, while theirs were of the true demo 
 cratic stamp. . He was a stickler for the 
 respect due to rank ; they, with a dispo 
 sition to yield to popular majorities, made 
 common cause with the ranks. He was re 
 served and formal toward his inferiors; 
 they, free and " hail fellows" with all, as 
 they acknowledged no superiority. Schuy 
 ler had the incidental circumstances of 
 distinguished birth, and of refinement 
 and wealth, to give him personal and so 
 cial importance ; the New England officers 
 were, for the most part, men of humble 
 origin, of little education, and, when 
 drawn from the field or the bench, had 
 nothing but their military pay. He was 
 a conventional gentleman ; they made 
 no pretensions to anything beyond the 
 rude simplicity of honest manners. 
 
 Graydon, in his gossiping memoirs 
 gives us, probably, a better insight than 
 more dignified historians, into the true 
 cause of Schuyler s unpopularity with the 
 New Englanders. Graydon, then a young 
 officer of a Pennsylvania regiment, had 
 been appointed by Congress to carry a 
 sum of money in specie to Schuyler. He 
 arrives at Lake George, and gives this 
 account of his visit to the general : 
 " Though General Schuyler has been 
 charged with such haughtiness of demean 
 or, as to have induced the troops of New 
 England to decline serving under his 
 command, the reception we met with, 
 was not merely courteous but kind. His 
 quarters being contracted, a bed was pre 
 pared for us in his own apartment, and 
 we experienced civilities that were flat 
 tering from an officer of his high rank. 
 Though thoroughly the man of business, 
 
264 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 he was also a gentleman and a man of 
 the world ; and well calculated to sustain 
 the reputation of our army in the eyes 
 of .the British officers (disposed to depre 
 ciate it), as is evidenced by the account 
 given by General Burgoyne of the man 
 ner in which he was entertained by him 
 at Albany. But that he should have been 
 displeasing to the Yankees, I am not at 
 all surprised : he certainly was at no pains 
 to conceal the extreme contempt he felt 
 for a set of officers, who were both a dis 
 grace to their stations and the cause in 
 which they acted ! Being yet a stranger 
 to the character of these men, and the 
 constitution of that part of our military 
 force which in Pennsylvania was consid 
 ered as the bulwark of the nation, I must 
 confess my surprise at an incident which 
 took place while at dinner. Beside the 
 general, the members of his family, and 
 ourselves, there were at table a lady and 
 gentleman from Montreal. A New Eng 
 land captain came in upon some business, 
 with that abject servility of manner which 
 belongs to persons of the meanest rank : 
 he was neither asked to sit or take a glass 
 of wine, and after announcing his message, 
 was dismissed with that peevishness of 
 tone we apply to a low and vexatious in 
 truder. This man, in his proper sphere, 
 might have been entitled to better treat 
 ment; but when presuming to thrust him 
 self into a situation, in which far other 
 qualifications than his were required, and 
 upon an occasion, too, which involved 
 some of the most important of human 
 interests, I am scarcely prepared to say 
 it was unmerited." 
 
 Schuyler, however, found a nobler ad 
 
 vocate in Washington, who, on sending 
 to him a letter containing charges against 
 his conduct, accompanied by documents 
 which had been received at headquarters 
 from a committee of Kings county, wrote : 
 " From these you will readily discover 
 the diabolical and insiduous acts and 
 schemes carrying on by the tories and 
 friends of government, to raise distrust, 
 dissensions, and divisions among us. Hav 
 ing the utmost confidence in your integ 
 rity, and the most incontestable proof of 
 your great attachment to our common 
 country and its interests, I could not but 
 look upon the charge against you with 
 an eye of disbelief, and seniiments of de 
 testation 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 
 that 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." 
 
 On receiving this letter, Schuyler wrote 
 to Washington, insisting upon a court of 
 inquiry, and in the meantime some who 
 had been ready to give credence to the 
 charges, frankly acknowledged their sus 
 picions unfounded, although there were 
 others in whom the feeling against the 
 New York general continued to rankle. 
 
 General Philip Schuyler, of whom we 
 have said so much, and of whom we shall 
 have occasion to say more, was born in 
 Albany, on the 22d of November, 1733. 
 His family was of colonial distinction. 
 His grandfather was mayor of Albany, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 A SORRY SET. 
 
 265 
 
 and proprietor of one of the Dutch man 
 ors, which descended by the law of prim 
 ogeniture to John Schuyler his son, and 
 the father of Philip who, being the eldest 
 son, inherited the estate, and with unex 
 ampled generosity divided it with his 
 brothers and sisters. His mother was 
 Cornelia Van Cortlandt,a woman of great 
 force of character, and remarkable for 
 the graceful dignity of her manners. 
 
 Philip Schuyler served during the French 
 campaign, and won the friendship of the 
 gallant and young Lord Howe, who fell 
 at Ticonderoga, He was a prominent 
 man in the colonial assembly, and an 
 early advocate of the American cause. 
 In 1775 he was a delegate to the conti 
 nental Congress, and in the same year 
 was appointed third major-general of the 
 American army. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 General Putnam at New York. His Cousin. The Appearance of the Troops. The Officers. Colonel Putnam coming 
 Home from Market. Alexander Hamilton. His Life. Personal Appearance. His first Acquaintance with General 
 Greene. Washington at New York. The Provincial Navy. Commodore Hopkins. His Exploits. The Engage 
 ment between the Alfred and Glasson. The American Squadron puts into New London. Hopkins censured by Con 
 gress. Washington s Despair of Reconciliation with Great Britain. Perplexities of Business. Uncertainty of the 
 Enemy s Movements. 
 
 1776, 
 
 GENERAL PUTNAM had arrived at 
 New York and went busily to work 
 at once, carrying out the plans of Lee in 
 fortifying the exposed points of the island, 
 and disciplining the troops. His cousin, 
 Colonel Rufus Putnam, had been, in want 
 of a better, appointed to the head of the 
 engineer department, and though, like 
 the general, an illiterate man, seemed, as 
 Washington said, " tolerably well quali 
 fied for conducting that business." Gray- 
 don says, " Mr. Putnam might have been 
 a good practical artist, though misterming 
 the Gorge the George? The same viva 
 cious writer gives us an account of the 
 troops gathered in New York at that 
 time. " They were," he says, " chiefly 
 from the eastern provinces. The appear 
 ance of things was not much calculated 
 34 
 
 to excite sanguine expectations in the 
 mind of a sober observer. Great num 
 bers of people were indeed to be seen, 
 and those who are not accustomed to the 
 sight of bodies under arms are always 
 prone to exaggerate them. But this pro 
 pensity to swell the mass had not an 
 equal tendency to convert it into soldiery; 
 and the irregularity, want of discipline, 
 bad arms, and defective equipment in all 
 respects, of this multitudinous assemblage, 
 gave no favorable impression of its prow 
 ess." 
 
 The eastern battalions, especially, seem 
 ed to have offended the eye of the young 
 military aspirant. The ranks were un 
 promising, and particularly the officers, 
 " who were in no single respect distin 
 guishable from their men, other than in 
 
26 6 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART u. 
 
 the colored cockades, which, for this very 
 purpose, had been prescribed in general 
 orders; a different color being assigned 
 to the officers of each grade." So far from 
 aiming at a deportment which might 
 raise them above their privates, and thence 
 prompt them to due respect and obedience 
 to their commands, the object was by hu 
 mility, to preserve the existing blessing 
 of equality : an illustrious instance of 
 which was given by Colonel Putnam, the 
 chief engineer of the army, and no less 
 a personage than the cousin of the ma 
 jor-general of that name. " What," says 
 a person meeting him one day with a 
 piece of meat in his hand, "carrying home 
 your rations yourself, colonel !" " Yes," 
 says he, " and I do it to set the officers a 
 good example." 
 
 There were, however, other officers 
 who better pleased the fastidiousness of 
 our annalist ; those of New York, for ex 
 ample, among whom was Alexander Ham 
 ilton. Hamilton at that time was barely 
 twenty years of age, and had not only 
 shown that ardor of youthful spirit and 
 genius which always excites a sympathetic 
 glow of appreciation among the young, 
 but had w r on, by the premature manli 
 ness of his character and judgment, the 
 respect of the old. Hamilton was born 
 on the West Indian island of Nevis. His 
 father was a Scotch trading captain of 
 the name of Hamilton. His mother, a 
 Creole woman, of Spanish or French ori 
 gin. The child, not over carefully watched 
 by parental solicitude, was left to wander 
 very much at his will. On one occasion 
 he had strayed into the counting-house 
 of a distinguished merchant, who was so 
 
 much struck by the lively and precocious 
 parts of the boy, that he proposed to 
 " make his fortune for him." The benev 
 olence of the merchant met with no re 
 sistance from his natural guardians, and 
 young Hamilton was accordingly taken 
 by him into his counting-house. Child 
 as he was, he made such rapid progress 
 in the knowledge of business, that in the 
 temporary absence of the "head of the 
 firm," he was left sole manager of its con 
 cerns, at the age of fourteen. From the 
 West Indies he was sent to assume a more 
 important station in the New York branch 
 of his patron s establishment. His remark 
 able talents and the great zeal he had 
 shown for study induced his generous 
 friends to give him the benefit of a clas 
 sical education. He was accordingly put 
 to school at Elizabethtown, and thence, 
 in 17 73, admitted into King s, now Colum 
 bia college, with the view of preparing 
 for a medical education. Young Ham 
 ilton had an early taste for literature, 
 and, by frequent clever articles, some 
 times lively and sometimes severe, writ 
 ten on the exciting political topics of the 
 day, showed a natural power and acquired 
 great facility as a writer. 
 
 Yet a student, he had an occasion to 
 prove that he could speak as well as write. 
 A meeting of the New York whig citizens 
 had been called together to express their 
 indignation at the new blow of British 
 tyranny which had fallen upon the New 
 Englanders in the shape of the Boston 
 port-bill. Naturally self-reliant and with 
 his confidence in his own powers, stimu 
 lated by the warmth of his interest in the 
 popular cause, young Hamilton, then hard- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ly seventeen years of age, ventured to 
 address the meeting, and spoke with a 
 force of eloquence which, from so juvenile 
 an orator, surprised very listener. He 
 now took an active part in the political 
 movements of the times, both as a speak 
 er and writer. On the war breaking out 
 he formed a company of artillery and was 
 chosen the captain. He was thus serving, 
 when Graydon seems to have marked 
 him out as an exceptional officer for his 
 gentlemanlike air and bearing/" 
 
 Irving gives this account of the im 
 pression the youthful captain made upon 
 another more acute military observer: 
 " As General Greene one day, on his way 
 
 * At a later period in life he is described by another ob 
 server as bring " under middle size, thin in person, but re 
 markably erect and dignified in his deportment. Plis hair 
 was turned back from his forehead, powdered, and collected 
 in a club behind. His complexion was exceedingly fair, and 
 varying from this only by the almost feminine rosiness of 
 his cheeks. His might be considered, as to figure and color, 
 a very handsome face. When at rest it had rather a severe 
 and thoughtful expression ; but when engaged in conversa 
 tion it easily assumed an attractive smile. He was expected 
 one day [the writer is speaking of as late a period as 1795] 
 at dinner, and was the last who came. When he entered the 
 room it was apparent from the respectful attention of the 
 company that he was a distinguished individual. He was 
 dressed in a blue coat with bright buttons; the skirts of his 
 coat were unusually long. He wore a white waistcoat, black 
 silk small clothes, white silk stockings. The gentleman who 
 received him as a guest, introduced him to such of the com 
 pany as were strangers to him ; to each he made a formal bow, 
 bending very low, the ceremony of shaking hands not being 
 observed. The fame of Hamilton had reached every one who 
 know anything of public men. His appearance and deport 
 ment accorded with the dignified distinction to which he had 
 attained in public opinion. At dinner, whenever he engaged 
 in the conversation, every one listened attentivelv. His 
 mode of speaking was deliberate and serious ; and his voice 
 engagingly pleasant. In the evening of the same, he was in 
 a mixed assembly of both sexes ; and the tranquil reserve, 
 noticed at the dinner table, had given place to a social and 
 playful manner, as though in this alone he was ambitious to 
 excel." Familiar Letters on Public Characters and Public 
 Events, from the Peace of 1783 to the Peace of 1815. Bos 
 ton. 1834. 
 
 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 267 
 
 to Washington s headquarters, was pas 
 sing through a field then on the out 
 skirts of the city, now in the heart of its 
 busiest quarter, and known as " the park" 
 he paused to notice a provincial com 
 pany 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 mili 
 tary 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 quar 
 ters, and from that time cultivated his 
 friendship." 
 
 Washington followed the army to New 
 York, where he arrived on Saturday, the 
 thirteenth of April, having passed through 
 Providence, Norwich, and New London. 
 While at the latter place, Commodore 
 Hopkins put into the harbor after a cruise 
 which was not supposed to redound much 
 to the fame of the embryo provincial 
 navy. It will be recollected that Con 
 gress had in December established the 
 basis, however humble, of a naval force. 
 The following were the resolutions passed 
 at that time (December 22d, 1775.) 
 
 "Resolved that the following naval offi 
 cers be appointed: Ezek Hopkins, Esquire, 
 commander-in-chicf; Dudley Salterstall, 
 captain of the Alfred; Abraham Whip- 
 pie, captain of the Columbus ; Nicholas 
 Biddle, captain of the Andrea Dora; John 
 B. Hopkins, captain of the Cabot. First 
 
2C8 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT II. 
 
 Lieutenants, John Paul Jones, Rhodes 
 Arnold, Stansbury, Heysted Hacker, 
 and Jonathan Pitcher. Second lieuten 
 ants, Benjamin Seabury, Joseph Olney, 
 Elisha Warner, Thomas Weaver, and 
 
 McDougal. Third lieutenants, John 
 
 Fanning, Ezekiel Burroughs, and Daniel 
 Yaughan. 
 
 Most of the vessels were purchased, 
 and ill adapted for the purpose intended. 
 There was not a tolerable sailer in the 
 whole fleet. The Alfred was the largest 
 of them all, and she had only a main-deck 
 battery of twenty, and quarter-deck and 
 forecastle guns, varying from two to ten. 
 It was on board this vessel that the first 
 American man-of-war ensign was ever 
 hoisted, and it Avas done by John Paul 
 Jones, then a lieutenant, of some of whose 
 future more important deeds w r e shall 
 have occasion to speak. The device of 
 that flag is supposed to have been the 
 Massachusetts one of a pine tree, w T ith 
 the addition borrowed from Virginia of 
 a coiled rattlesnake about to strike, and 
 the motto, "Don t tread on me." The 
 squadron, consisting of the Alfred twenty- 
 four guns, Columbus twenty, Dora four 
 teen, and Cabot fourteen, having been 
 got ready for sea, rendezvoused under 
 Cape Henlopen early in February. Soon 
 after they were joined by the Hornet ten, 
 Wasp eight, and Fly, three small vessels 
 which had been equipped at Baltimore. 
 Hopkins, who had received from Congress 
 the title of commander-in-chief, was gen 
 erally spoken of by the sailors as commo 
 dore, although not seldom styled admiral. 
 The commodore, as we shall call him, 
 having received orders to cruise to the 
 
 southward, in order to try to fall in with 
 Lord Dunmore s fleet, and stop its ravages 
 on the coast, sailed in that direction on 
 the seventeenth of February. He was 
 on the third night out, going before the 
 wind with a stiff breeze, when the Hornet 
 and Fly parted company and were not 
 again seen during the cruise. 
 
 Abaco, in the Bahamas, was the place 
 of rendezvous appointed, which was 
 reached in fifteen days, without any oc 
 currence of moment. The island of New 
 Providence being but a short distance and 
 known to contain a supply of military 
 stores, Hopkins determined to make a 
 descent upon *it. Accordingly, setting 
 sail one night, he landed on the island ear 
 ly the next morning some" three hundred 
 marines, who met with no resistance 
 until a fort was reached at some distance 
 from the place where they had debarked. 
 Here, as they approached, the garrison 
 fired a volley at them, and then spiking 
 the guns retired. The Americans taking 
 possession of the fort tarried there until 
 next day, when they marched into the 
 town without interruption. The of 
 ficer in command w r ent straightway to 
 the governor and demanding the keys, 
 which were given up at once, entered the 
 fort within the town, where was found a 
 good supply of cannon and mortars. 
 There was, however, no powder, for the 
 governor, having taken the alarm, had 
 sent it all off the night before. After 
 having shipped their plunder, and taken 
 on board the governor, his lieutenant, 
 and a counsellor, the squadron put to sea 
 again on a cruise. 
 
 Hopkins course was now to the north, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 AN ESCAPE. 
 
 269 
 
 April I. 
 
 and on reaching the east end of Long 
 island he captured a British 
 schooner, and on the day after a 
 bomb brig of eight guns in command of 
 a son of the Wallace who had rendered 
 himself so notorious on the New England 
 coast by his brutal violence. As the 
 American squadron, somewhat scattered, 
 was moving on during the night-watch, 
 with a light breeze and smooth sea, an 
 enemy s ship was observed bearing down 
 apparently for the Alfred. Shortly, how 
 ever, she went on another track, which 
 brought her in the direction of the Cabot, 
 when the younger Hopkins, who com 
 manded the latter, closed in with his lit 
 tle vessel and fired a broadside though 
 with not much effect, as his metal was 
 too light to do much damage to his for 
 midable opponent. The enemy returned 
 the fire with much greater force, and can 
 nonaded the Cabot so heavily that she 
 was obliged to haul off, with her captain 
 severely wounded, her master and several 
 of the crew killed, and her hull and rig 
 ging badly damaged. The Alfred now 
 bore up and ranged alongside of the Brit 
 ish ship, which proved to be the Glasgow 
 of twenty guns, Captain Tyringham 
 Howe. The two were at once engaged 
 as hot as possible, broadside to broadside, 
 and both were delivering their fires with 
 great spirit when the Providence came 
 up under the stern of the enemy, and the 
 Dora approached near enough to give 
 some effect to her guns. For nearly an 
 hour they were thus briskly keeping up 
 the fight, when a shot from the Glasgow 
 unfortunately carried away the block and 
 wheel rope of the Alfred, which made 
 
 her unmanageable, and she broached to. 
 This gave the British ship an opportuni 
 ty to rake her effectually. The day was 
 now beginning to dawn, and Howe could 
 see, as the several vessels of the Ameri 
 can squadron bore up, the strength of 
 his antagonist. He accordingly found it 
 prudent to give up the battle, and making 
 all sail he could crowd upon his ship stood 
 in for Newport. 
 
 The squadron did its best to overtake 
 him, and kept up a. running fire in pur 
 suit, but the Glasgow proved the better 
 sailer and distanced the American vessels 
 which were so deep with the stores with 
 which they had been laden at New Prov 
 idence, and not very fast goers at their 
 best, that they could not keep up. Hop 
 kins, as they approached Newport, fear 
 ing that the British fleet off that harbor 
 might come out, gave up the chase, and, 
 contenting himself with the capture of 
 the Glasgow s tender, took his vessels into 
 New London. 
 
 The enemy was a ship of twenty guns, 
 with a crew of a hundred and twenty 
 souls, and was well appointed in every 
 respect, as she was well handled by her 
 commander. Her loss was slight, how 
 ever, having had only one man killed and 
 three wounded. The Alfred had six men 
 killed and six wounded. The Cabot had 
 four killed and seven wounded, and one 
 man on board the Columbus lost his arm 
 from a shot from the enemy during the 
 chase. The hull and rigging on both 
 sides were well cut up, and showed the 
 severity of the encounter. 
 
 Hopkins conduct was so much disap 
 proved that he was summoned to answer 
 
270 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 May 15, 
 
 for it before Congress. He was charged 
 with disobedience of orders for having 
 returned northward after his descent up 
 on New Providence, as that action was 
 deemed a poor compensation for the ex 
 pense of fitting out a fleet, and by no 
 means an heroic beginning to the history 
 of the American navy. Hopkins, 
 on reaching Philadelphia, did not 
 succeed in satisfying Congress as to the 
 propriety of his conduct, and he conse 
 quently received the censure of the house. 
 
 Washington preceded the arrival of 
 some of his troops, which had set out on 
 the same day with him from Cambridge. 
 Although on his journey he had done 
 everything in his power to expedite the 
 march, he found, from the badness of the 
 roads and the difficulty of procuring teams 
 for bringing the stores and baggage, that 
 his army would be still delayed for a 
 week or more in reaching New York. 
 
 Washington, being now, after the tri 
 umph of Boston, relieved from the duties 
 of conducting aspecial military operation, 
 began to be more conscious of the scope 
 of the cause of which he had been chosen 
 leader. He had given up all hopes of 
 reconciliation with the mother-country, 
 and confessed freely his conviction that 
 he was engaged in a struggle not only 
 for freedom but independence. He gave 
 but little heed to what he heard of the 
 plans of the British for negotiation with 
 the view to bring back the colonies to 
 their loyalty. He was told that the Eng 
 lish government was about to send over 
 a large number of commissioners to Amer 
 ica, and that they were to make advances 
 to the colonies separately. Mark how 
 
 [rAirr n. 
 
 he scouts the idea ! " The account given 
 of the business of the commissioners from 
 England seems to be of a piece with 
 Lord North s conciliatory motion last 
 year, built upon the same foundation, and. 
 if true, that they are to be divided among 
 the colonies to offer terms of pardon, it 
 is as insulting as that nation ; and only 
 designed, after stopping all intercourse 
 with us, to set us up to view in Great 
 Britain as a people that will not hearken 
 ! to any propositions of peace. Was there 
 ; ever anything more absurd than to repeal 
 | the very acts which have introduced all 
 this confusion and bloodshed, and at the 
 same enact a law to restrain all intercourse 
 with the colonies for opposing them ? 
 The drift and designs are obvious; but 
 is it possible that any sensible nation upon 
 earth can be imposed upon by such a cob 
 web scheme or gauze covering? But 
 1 enough." 
 
 This was written while he was at Cam- 
 I bridge, and although emphatic in denun 
 ciation of British policy, it still shows 
 from the very fact of arguing the ques 
 tion, that there was in Washington s heart 
 a lurking hope of accommodation. Again, 
 still in Cambridge, he writes : " If the 
 commissioners do not conic over with 
 full and ample powers to treat with Con 
 gress, I sincerely wish they may never 
 put their feet on American ground, as it 
 must be self-evident, in the other case, 
 that they will come over with iusiduous 
 intentions, to distract, divide, and create 
 as much confusion as possible. How, then, 
 can any man, let his passion for reconcil 
 iation be ever so strong, be so blinded 
 and misled as to embrace a measure evi- 
 
Apr. 15. 
 
 REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 dently designed for his destruction ? No 
 man does, no man can wish the restora 
 tion of peace more fervently than I do ; 
 but I hope, whenever made, it will be on 
 such terms as will reflect honor upon the 
 councils and wisdom of America." This, 
 too, is emphatic language, but it does not 
 express such a decided hopelessness of 
 England as that which, only a fortnight 
 later, he uses in writing to John Adams. 
 It is true Washington begins, " I 
 have ever thought," but he has 
 not before given such a definite form to 
 his views. "I have ever thought," he 
 says, " and am still of opinion, that no 
 terms of accommodation will be offered 
 by the British ministry, but such as can 
 not be accepted by America. We have 
 nothing, my dear sir, to depend upon but 
 the protection of a kind Providence, and 
 unanimity among ourselves." 
 
 While Washington became thus con 
 vinced of the greatness and probable 
 length of the struggle in which he was 
 engaged, he found himself plunged deeper 
 and deeper, from day to day, in the per 
 plexities, troubles, dissensions, and com 
 plications of business, his military leader 
 ship of the patriot cause necessarily in 
 volved him. The recruiting went on 
 slowly, and when troops were got it was 
 hard to find equipments for them. There 
 was equal difficulty in obtaining arms 
 and men. Provision was not only to be 
 made for the defence of New York and 
 Long island, but reinforcements were to 
 be sent to Canada. Officers were com 
 plaining for want of pay, and militia-men 
 were insisting upon returning home. The 
 tories of New York were exciting anxiety 
 
 WASHINGTON IN NEW YORK. 
 
 271 
 
 by their relations with Governor Tryon 
 and the enemy s ships in the harbor, and 
 news had arrived of the great prepara 
 tions made by the British ministers to 
 crush, as they believed, the " rebels." 
 
 With these cares and labors we can 
 well understand how Washington should 
 be so devoted to business as to declare, 
 " I give in to no kind of amusement my 
 self; and consequently those about me 
 can have none, but are confined from 
 morning till evening, hearing and answer 
 ing the applications and letters of one 
 and another." To his brother Augustine, 
 too, he gives " the hurry and multiplicity 
 of business in which I am constantly en 
 gaged from the time I rise out of my bed 
 until I go into it again" as the true cause 
 for not writing oftener. 
 
 Washington, however, struggled brave 
 ly with all these cares and embarrassments. 
 He sent as many troops as he could spare 
 to Canada. He checked the tories by 
 putting a stop to their correspondence 
 with the enemy, by his own decided meas 
 ures, and a firm and dignified appeal to 
 the New York committee of safety. He 
 only succeeded after much difficulty in 
 gathering together an army of ten thou 
 sand men, and while disciplining them and 
 keeping them busy at the works of de 
 fence, strove, by every effort, to prepare 
 himself for the enemy. 
 
 Washington was perplexed about the 
 intentions of Howe, who, with his army 
 strongly reinforced by troops from Great 
 Britain, might be daily expected to arrive 
 and begin the campaign. The whole 
 American army was so small as yet that 
 to make it effective it was necessary to 
 
272 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT IT. 
 
 concentrate the forces. When Congress, 
 therefore, requested the opinion of Wash 
 ington as to whether it was necessary to 
 send more troops to Canada, he answer 
 ed them in these dubious words: "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. 
 
 April 26. 
 
 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 Hud 
 son s river, the troops left here will not 
 be sufficient to oppose them ; and yet for 
 anything w r e know, I think it not improb 
 able they may attempt both." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Arnold at Montreal. The Disaster at the " Cedars." Arnold sends forward a Deputation of Caghnawaga Indians. Ar 
 nold arrives at St. Annes. Perplexed. Takes a View of the Enemy. Retires. Comes to Terms with the Enemv 
 though unwillingly. General Sullivan. His Life. Affairs in Canada. Sullivan sanguine. Washington gives him 
 some Discreet Advice Washington s Opinion of Sullivan. Thompson sent by Sullivan to attack the Enemy at Three 
 Rivers. The unfortunate Result. Sanguine Sullivan triumphing in an imaginary Victory. His bright Anticipations 
 clouded. His Retreat. The Enemy strengthened by fresh Troops. Burgoyne leading the Advance. Sullivan pur 
 sued. Arnold abandons Montreal, and retreats with the Enemy close at his Heels. Junction with Sullivan at St. 
 Johns. Arnold s Energy and Courage. The last Man to leave the Enemy s Shores. Sullivan reaches Crown Point. 
 The end of the Northern Campaign. Adams s Survey of its Misfortunes. 
 
 1776, 
 
 AFTER Arnold had, in consequence 
 of his accident and his dissatisfaction 
 Avith the bearing of General Wooster, his 
 superior in command, retired to Montreal, 
 he remained there for several weeks with 
 little inclination, in consequence of illness, 
 for service, and without any especial work 
 to do. He was now, however, aroused 
 to activity by the disaster at the " Cedars," 
 which he determined to make an effort 
 to repair. Before tracing Arnold s move 
 ments, however, let us describe the affair 
 which prompted them. 
 
 Early in May three hundred and ninety 
 Americans were posted, under Colonel 
 Beadle, in a small fort at a place called 
 
 the Cedars, situated on the St. Lawrence 
 about forty miles above Montreal. Cap 
 tain Forster, a British officer with forty 
 regulars, a hundred Canadians, and five 
 hundred Indians, descended from the 
 mouth of the Oswegatchie, and approach 
 ed the fort. The American colonel in 
 command, as soon as he became aware 
 of this approach, cowardly hurried off to 
 Montreal, under the plea of seeking re 
 inforcements, and left the command of 
 the garrison to Major Butterfield, who, 
 emulating the faintheartedness of his su 
 perior, surrendered the fort to Forster 
 without a blow. 
 
 Major Henry Sherbourne was immedi 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 AFFAIR AT THE CEDARS. 
 
 273 
 
 ately, on the arrival of Beadle at Montre 
 al, although that discreet colonel refused 
 himself to return, despatched with one 
 hundred and forty men to reinforce the 
 garrison at the Cedars. Sherbourne, how 
 ever, was too late, for the garrison had 
 surrendered the day before he had got 
 across Lake St. Louis. He, however, was 
 not aware of the fact, and leaving forty 
 of his men as a rear guard, pushed on 
 with the hundred others, and had reached 
 within five miles of the fort, when he 
 was set upon by five hundred Canadians 
 and Indians from under the cover of a 
 thick wood. The Americans defended 
 themselves as best they could for more 
 than an hour and a half against the fire 
 of the enemy, but were finally completely 
 overwhelmed by the Indians, who rushed 
 upon and disarmed them. They had al 
 ready lost in action twenty-eight killed 
 and wounded, when many more were 
 massacred in cold blood by the savages, 
 and the rest, being stripped almost naked, 
 were driven to the fort and delivered up 
 to Captain Forster, from whom the Amer 
 icans now learned, for the first time, that 
 Butterfield had surrendered himself and 
 garrison. The enemy had but some 
 twenty-two killed, among whom was a 
 chief of the Senecas, whose death greatly 
 excited the ferocity of the savages. 
 
 This was the affair at the Cedars which 
 had stirred Arnold to revenge, and he 
 hastened with about eight hundred men 
 to inflict it. On setting out, he sent for 
 ward some Caghnawaga Indians in his 
 interest, to demand of the hostile savages 
 to deliver up the American prisoners at 
 once, or in case they refused, to declare 
 35 
 
 May 26. 
 
 to them that he would sacrifice every In 
 dian who should fall into his hands, and 
 burn their villages. 
 
 On reaching St. Annes, at the 
 western extremity of the island 
 upon which Montreal is built, Arnold and 
 his men could see the American prisoners, 
 as they were being taken off by the ene 
 my in their batteaux from an island about 
 a league distant, and conveyed to the op 
 posite shore of the St. Lawrence. Arnold 
 was now impatient for the arrival of his 
 batteaux which were coming down the riv 
 er, but which he and most of his men, hav 
 ing reached by land, had preceded. The 
 batteaux were delayed until sunset, and 
 in the meantime Arnold s Caghnewagas 
 
 O O 
 
 came back with an answer to his demand 
 and a threat from the hostile Indians, who 
 sent word that they had five hundred 
 American prisoners in their power, whom 
 they would put to death if any attempt 
 was made to rescue them, and give no 
 quarter to any others they might capture. 
 Arnold was perplexed. "Torn," he 
 says, " by the conflicting passions of re 
 venge 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." He, how 
 ever, decided not to turn back, and crowd 
 ing his men into the batteaux, rowed 
 to the island whence he had seen the 
 prisoners taken off He found there five 
 Americans still left, who were almost 
 bare of clothes and nearly famished. 
 From these he learned that all the others 
 
274 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 had been carried off to Quinze Chiens, 
 with the exception of two who, being 
 too ill to move, had been killed. Arnold 
 now crossed with his boats toward Quinze 
 Chiens, which was about four miles below 
 on the opposite shore. When within less 
 than a mile of the shore, the enemy be 
 gan firing at him with their field-pieces 
 and musketry. As the day was closing, 
 and Arnold, not knowing the ground, 
 feared to expose his men to the risks of 
 a night attack, he returned. 
 
 On reaching St. Annes in the evening, 
 a council-of-war was immediately called, 
 when it was determined by all the offi 
 cers that an attack should be made on 
 the next morning. The whole force was 
 astir with busy preparations until past 
 midnight, when a flag of truce was ob 
 served coming from the enemy. It was 
 borne by Lieutenant Park, who came to 
 submit to Arnold a copy of the articles 
 which had been agreed to between Major 
 Sherbourne and Captain Forster for the 
 exchange of prisoners Sherbourne hav 
 ing been informed by Forster that the 
 prisoners who were crowded together in 
 the church at Quinze Chiens would cer 
 tainly fall a prey to the savages, whose 
 ferocity that British officer professed to 
 be unable to control, unless the Ameri 
 cans submitted to the terms proposed. 
 Sherbourne, under these circumstances, 
 was forced to sign them, and Arnold was 
 now expected to confirm the act of his 
 subordinate in command. Arnold was 
 greatly vexed that he should be thus 
 balked of his purpose by this ungenerous 
 advantage taken by the enemy, and, 
 though he longed to have his revenge 
 
 upon "these savages and still more savage 
 British troops," could not but give heed 
 to the proposition, as Captain Forster de 
 clared positively, that the fate of the 
 American prisoners depended upon his 
 confirmation of Sherbourne s capitulation. 
 
 There was one condition which Arnold 
 rejected at once without hesitation. By 
 this it was insisted that the American 
 prisoners should not again take up arms, 
 and that they should pledge themselves 
 not to give any information, by word of 
 mouth, or writing, or by signs, which 
 might be prejudicial to his majesty s ser 
 vice. The other terms, having been mod 
 ified by Arnold and consented to by For 
 ster, were finally agreed to. By these it 
 was arranged that the Americans should 
 be released on parole, in exchange for 
 British prisoners of equal rank, and repa 
 ration made for all property which had 
 been destroyed by the continental troops. 
 It was moreover added, that four Ameri 
 can captains should be sent to Quebec, 
 and remain as hostages until the exchange 
 should be effected, while six days were 
 allowed to the British for the delivery of 
 the prisoners at St. Johns. Congress re 
 fused to ratify these terms, although 
 Washington expressed strongly the opin 
 ion that it was a military convention, 
 which, although extorted by a barbarous 
 threat, was sufficiently regular to be bind 
 ing. Arnold returned to Montreal, full 
 of fierce rage at being thwarted in his 
 revenge, and burned for a more favorable 
 occasion to give it vent. 
 
 General John Sullivan, it will be recol 
 lected, had arrived at the mouth of the 
 Sorel with reinforcements, and assumed 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 CHARACTER OF SULLIVAN. 
 
 275 
 
 the command of the troops, immediately 
 after the death of Thomas. Sullivan was 
 a New-England man, having been born 
 at Berwick, Maine, in 1740. He was now 
 in the vigor of life, and although origin 
 ally a farmer, and subsequently a lawyer, 
 he had already, in addition to the usual 
 military training of his fellow-provincials, 
 acquired some military experience. After 
 retiring from the continental Congress, 
 of which he had been a member, he made 
 his first essay in warfare as a joint leader, 
 with Langdon, the speaker of the New 
 Hampshire Congress, of a small party of 
 continentals in an attack on Fort William 
 and Mary at Portsmouth, and succeeded 
 in carrying off all the cannon. On the 
 organization of the American army, in 
 1775, Sullivan was appointed one of the 
 eight brigadier-generals, and in 76, a 
 major-general. Having served under 
 Washington at the siege of Boston, he 
 now, so rapid was the experience of those 
 days, presented himself with almost the 
 claims of a military veteran. 
 
 Affairs in Canada seemed to have been 
 in the worst possible condition just pre 
 vious to the arrival of Sullivan, for the 
 commissioners sent there by Congress 
 give this doleful account : " You will have/ 
 they say, writing from Montreal, 
 " a faint idea of our situation, if 
 you figure to yourself an army, broken 
 and disheartened, half of it under inocu 
 lation and other diseases, soldiers without 
 pay, without discipline, and altogether 
 reduced to live from hand to mouth, de 
 pending on the scanty and precarious 
 supplies of a few half-starved cattle, and 
 trifling quantities of flour, which have 
 
 hitherto been picked up in different parts 
 of the country." Sullivan s presence, ac 
 cording to his own letters, which gener 
 ally gave a more rose-colored view of 
 things than was justified by reality, pro 
 duced a most encouraging effect upon the 
 hitherto suffering and disheartened troops. 
 
 "It was," he writes, "really affecting 
 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 for 
 saken, and left to fight against an une 
 qual force or retreat before them." He 
 continued to write in the same strain, and 
 while every one else was down with de 
 spair, he was exalted with confident hope. 
 "I venture to assure you," he writes to 
 Washington, " 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 al 
 most impossible." It was no wonder, 
 then, that with such an expression of san 
 guine self-confidence from Sullivan, that 
 Washington himself, in spite of the cool 
 calculations of the Congressional com 
 missioners, and the melancholy forebo 
 dings of the saturnine Schuyler, should 
 grow more hopeful. 
 
 " Before it [the letter from Sullivan just 
 quoted] came to hand," writes Washing 
 ton, " I almost dreaded to hear from Can 
 ada, as my advices seemed to promise 
 nothing favorable, but rather further mis 
 fortunes. But I now hope that our af 
 fairs, from the confused, distracted, and 
 almost forlorn state, in which you found 
 
27fi 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 them., will emerge and assume an aspect of 
 order and success." In a postscript, how 
 ever, Washington apparently becomes 
 somewhat dubious of Sullivan s glowing 
 account of affairs, and puts him on his 
 guard against the dangers of deception. 
 " Knowing your great zeal," says Wash 
 ington, "for the cause of your country, 
 and your desire to render her every pos 
 sible service, I must caution you not to 
 put too much to the hazard in your ex 
 ertions to establish her rights, and to 
 receive with a proper degree of caution 
 the professions which the Canadians may 
 make. They have the character of an 
 ingenious, artful people, and very capable 
 of finesse and cunning. Therefore, my 
 advice is, that you put not too much in 
 their power; but seem to trust them, 
 rather than actually do it too far. I 
 would also have you keep all your posts 
 as you go, well secured, to guard against 
 any treacherous conduct." 
 
 Washington knew Sullivan very well, 
 and the next day after writing the post 
 script just quoted, he had occasion to give 
 an opinion of him, apropos to a private let 
 ter w T hich he had received, and from which 
 he inferred that Sullivan was aiming at 
 the command in Canada, "Whether he 
 wants it or not," Washington writes, " is 
 a matter to be considered ; and that it 
 may be considered with propriety,! think 
 it my duty to observe, as of my own 
 knowledge, that he is active, spirited, and 
 zealously attached to the cause. That he 
 does not want abilities, many members 
 of Congress can testify ; but 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." 
 
 Sullivan was eager to realize his san 
 guine expectations, and accordingly he 
 sent out a force of eighteen hundred men 
 under General Thompson, to attack the 
 British at Three Rivers, while he 
 himself remained at the mouth of 
 the Sorel, engaged in constructing works 
 for the defence of that post. Thompson 
 in the meantime having embarked his 
 men in fifty boats, coasted along the south 
 side of that wide part of the St. Lawrence 
 called Lake St. Peter, until he reached 
 Nicolet, whence, waiting until night, he 
 floated down the river and passed to the 
 left bank, within a few miles of Three 
 Rivers. It was intended to have reached 
 this place at night, in order to take the 
 enemy by surprise. There had been, 
 however, an unexpected delay, so that 
 it was near daylight when the troops 
 landed. 
 
 In order to make up for the loss of 
 time, a forced march had to be made, and 
 the men were hurried on to a run ; and 
 when they had thus gone for several 
 miles, and were greatly fatigued, it was 
 discovered that the wrong road had been 
 taken through the ignorance or the de 
 ception of the Canadian guide. They 
 were obliged to turn back, and as they 
 hurriedly retraced their steps the day 
 began to break, and all hope of a night 
 attack was gone. They, however, suc 
 ceeded in finding the proper route, and 
 continued to move on briskly, until, by 
 a turn in the road, they came in sight 
 of the enemy s shipping lying off Three 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 DEFEAT AT THREE RIVERS. 
 
 27- 
 
 Rivers. Thompson knew that it was use 
 less to attempt to conceal his approach, 
 and therefore ordering his drums to beat 
 And fifes to play, marched on until he 
 came within range of the men-of-war s 
 guns, when he turned off from the road 
 by the river, to another at a right angle 
 with it, and thus avoided exposure to 
 the fire of the enemy. The Americans 
 had, however, got so close to the ships, 
 that the orders to land, resounding 
 through the speaking-trumpets of the 
 deck-officers, were distinctly heard. 
 
 Thompson having been obliged to 
 leave the route by the river, prepared to 
 enter the town by the rear. When within 
 about two miles, there was found a great 
 morass, through which the men had to 
 flounder up to their waists. They, how 
 ever, succeeded in struggling through, 
 and reached some solid ground, where 
 Thompson was enabled to form his men. 
 The enemy were ready, with a large force 
 under General Fraser, to receive them, 
 and as soon as the Americans began to 
 advance, they were met by so severe a 
 fire that they were staggered at once and 
 thrown into confusion. Thompson tried 
 to rally his men, but in vain ; on they 
 fled, each man looking out for himself, 
 straggling back again through the mo 
 rass, and making his way as rapidly as 
 possible along the road by which he 
 had come. Hearing from the Canadians 
 they met that the enemy had sent a de- 
 achrnent with artillery to seize their 
 ooats and cut off their retreat, and 
 knowing that there was a large body 
 in hot pursuit of them, the straggling 
 fugitives were brought to a halt, but 
 
 entirely bewildered how to act. At 
 this moment, Colonel Maxwell, taking 
 advantage of the pause in the flight, 
 called together the officers about him, 
 and asked, " What shall we do ? Shall we 
 fight those in the front or in the rear ? 
 or shall we tamely submit ? or shall we 
 turn off into the woods, and let each man 
 shift for himself?" 
 
 The last question was the only one 
 they were prepared to answer, and with 
 an affirmative reply to it, the fugitives, 
 without more ado, scattered off down the 
 hill, and through the woods to the river. 
 As they fled, the enemy in their rear fired 
 at them, but fortunately without much 
 effect. The boats had been removed out 
 of harm s way, by those left in the care 
 of them, and thus a great number of the 
 Americans succeeded in escaping, by 
 straggling parties, after wandering dur 
 ing the night in the covert of the forest. 
 General Thompson and Colonel Irvine, 
 the second in command, several other 
 officers, and some two hundred of the 
 men, were left in the hands of the enemy, 
 while nearly thirty were killed. The 
 king s troops lost hardly a man. While 
 this complete rout of Thompson s force 
 was taking place under the hot cannon 
 ade of the British, Sullivan, at the mouth 
 of the Sorel was triumphing over an 
 imaginary victory, and writing a despatch 
 full of sanguine anticipations of Thomp 
 son s success. " He has proceeded," writes 
 the confident Sullivan, "in the manner 
 proposed, and made his attack at day 
 light, for at that time a very heavy can 
 nonading began, which continued with 
 some intervals to twelve o clock. It is 
 
278 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 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 de 
 clared 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." 
 
 Sullivan s bright anticipations were 
 destined to be soon dispersed, by the ar 
 rival of the shattered remains of his force, 
 with a sad account of their misfortunes, 
 which supplied the general with a less 
 jubilant subject for his next despatch. 
 He triumphed no longer in imaginary 
 victories. He had the sad fact to com 
 municate of the total defeat and discour 
 agement of his officers and men. He 
 spoke, however, of his own manful spirit, 
 and declared his determination to hold 
 his ground as long as any person would 
 "stick by" him. He seemed, in fact, re 
 solved to keep the post at the mouth of 
 the Sorel, and went on strengthening its 
 fortifications. This, however, was but the 
 desperation of an unfortunate general, 
 struggling against inevitable fate. It was 
 clear to all that there was no alternative 
 but retreat, and retreat was determined 
 upon. The Americans had less than three 
 thousand men, discouraged by defeat, sur 
 rounded by a hostile people, and threat 
 ened by an overwhelming British force. 
 Flight afforded the only hope of escape 
 from total destruction. 
 
 Carleton, strengthened by several regi 
 ments from England under Burgoyne, 
 
 and by a body of mercenary troops from 
 Brunswick under Baron Reidesel, hao 
 now at his command nearly thirteen 
 thousand men. When Wooster was 
 driven from before Quebec, Carleton 
 moved on a large force by land under 
 General Fraser, and another by water 
 under General Nesbitt, to Three Rivers. 
 These two had just made a junction 
 when the Americans began their attack, 
 unconscious of the overwhelming num 
 bers prepared to receive it. The result 
 was necessarily fatal. Carleton now de 
 termined to pursue the advantage the 
 large numbers of his troops gave him ; 
 and accordingly, moving on his reinforce 
 ments as they arrived at Quebec, he sent 
 Burgoyne with a strong advance-column 
 to drive the Americans out of Canada. 
 
 Sullivan, now persuaded of the neces 
 sity of retreat, abandoned his 
 post, but not until the enemy 
 were at his heels ; for the fleet of trans 
 ports arrived, and Burgoyne took pos 
 session of the works at the mouth of the 
 Sorel, only a few hours after the rear of 
 the Americans had left. Sir Guy Carle- 
 ton had over-can tiously ordered Bur 
 goyne not to pursue his enemy farther 
 up the river than St. Johns. This saved 
 the Americans, who had got but little 
 start of their pursuers. Sullivan having 
 embarked his men, sailed off with them 
 up the river in advance, leaving Major 
 Fuller to follow with the baggage. The 
 wind proved favorable and good progress 
 was made for several hours, when the 
 breeze lulled, and the vessels were be 
 calmed. In the meantime the British 
 were gaining upon them, and had ad- 
 
 June 14. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 RETREAT OF SULLIVAN. 
 
 279 
 
 vanced so near to Fuller that he sent to 
 Sullivan in advance, asking for orders 
 what to do, in the probable emergency of 
 being overtaken. The general promptly 
 sent a hundred batteaux to bring off the 
 men and baggage, and orders to burn the 
 large vessels. The major had hardly time 
 to accomplish this duty, before the enemy 
 could reach him. He succeeded, how 
 ever. 
 
 Arnold was determined to hold Mont 
 real until the last moment ; but hearing 
 of the disaster at Three Rivers, and aware 
 of the approach of the large force of the 
 enemy, he found that nothing was left 
 him but to retreat, and form a junction 
 with Sullivan. He accordingly crossed 
 from Montreal to Longueil on the main 
 land, and pushed forward to St. Johns, 
 " making a very prudent and judicious 
 retreat, with an enemy close at his heels," 
 for Carleton,with a large detachment, was 
 striving to intercept him. While Arnold 
 was marching to St. Johns, the fleet with 
 Burgoyne s troops were sailing up the 
 river to the same place, and would have 
 arrived at the same moment, probably, 
 had not the wind failed. Joining Sulli 
 van at St. Johns, preparations were made 
 at once for embarking the troops. " To 
 this work," says Sparks, "Arnold applied 
 himself with his usual ability and vigil 
 ance, remaining behind till he had seen 
 every boat leave the shore but his own. 
 He then mounted his horse, attended by 
 Wilkinson, his aid-de-camp, and rode back 
 two miles, when he discovered the ene 
 my s advanced division in full march un 
 
 der General Burgoyne. They gazed at 
 it, or, in military phrase, reconnoitred it, 
 for a short time, and then hastened back 
 to St. Johns. A boat being in readiness 
 to receive them, the horses were stripped 
 and shot, the men were ordered on board, 
 and Arnold, refusing all assistance, pushed 
 off the boat with his own hand ; thus, 
 says Wilkinson, " indulging the vanity of 
 being the last man who embarked from 
 the shores of the enemy." The sun was 
 now down and darkness followed, but the 
 boat overtook the army in the night at 
 " Isle aux Noix." 
 
 The retreat was full of hardship and 
 danger, but yet it was considered credit 
 able to Sullivan. Though worked to the 
 utmost extent of endurance by the sever 
 ity of their labors, in the course of which 
 they had to drag their batteaux, heavily 
 laden with cannon and baggage, up the 
 rapids, and though threatened constantly 
 by the approach of an overwhelming force 
 in their rear, they succeeded in bringing 
 off all their boats and baggage, destroying 
 everything that might be of aid to the 
 enemy, and escaping with the loss only 
 of a single man. After a short delay at 
 the Isle aux Noix, Sullivan continued his 
 course along Lake Champlain, until he 
 reached Crown Point. Thus closed the 
 campaign of the northern army, which 
 left Canada, as John Adams expressed it, 
 " disgraced, defeated, discontented, dis 
 pirited, diseased, and undisciplined ; eat 
 en up with vermin, no clothes, beds, blan 
 kets, or medicines, and no victuals but 
 salt pork and flour." 
 
280 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 General Ward at Boston. A Naval Success. " One Mugford." Capture of the Hope. Mngford gives the Enemy a 
 Broadside of Oaths and forces him to strike. Exultation on a Boston Fast-Day. Mugford has another Struggle with 
 the Enemy. Falls. Victory. General Lincoln s Plan for driving the British Cruisers away. Its Success. Arrival 
 of English Vessels in the Harbor of Boston. Obstinate Resistance. Capture. Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell taken 
 Prisoner. Generals Ward and Frye Resign. Gates promoted to a Major-Generalship. His Life, Character, and Per 
 sonal Appearance. His Letter to Lee. The " Traveller s Rest." Gates appointed to the Command of the Northern 
 Army. Counter-claims of Schuyler. The Question between them settled in Favor of Schuyler. Gates and Schuyler 
 in Harmony. Resolution to abandon Crown Point. Opposed by the Subordinate Officers. Extraordinary Proceedings. 
 Washington rebukes the Conduct of the Officers but favors their Views. The Enemy greatly reinforced. Washing 
 ton called to Philadelphia by Congress. General Putnam in Command at New York. Fortifications in New York. 
 General Greene on Long Island. Tryon s Plan for seizing Washington. A Traitor discovered among Washington s 
 Guard. The Traitor hung. Concourse of Spectators. 
 
 177G, 
 
 April 1. 
 
 WHEN Washington set out for 
 New York, he left five regiments 
 under General Ward to complete the 
 works at Boston, and provide, by new 
 fortifications, against the return 
 of Howe, which seemed greatly 
 to have been feared by the New-Eng- 
 landers. A few British vessels-of-war still 
 lingered in Nantasket roads, much to the 
 annoyance of the Bostonians, who were 
 bent upon driving them away at the ear 
 liest moment. Nothing, however, was 
 done for two months. In the meantime, 
 there was a naval success in the very 
 sight of the English ships which served 
 to encourage the patriots of Boston to 
 further effort. 
 
 One Mugford, as Gordon calls him, who 
 was a trading skipper, applied for the 
 command of the Franklin, a continental 
 cruiser then unemployed. His request 
 being granted, Mugford made all haste, 
 got possession of the vessel, put on board 
 a supply of powder and ball, shipped a 
 crew of twenty men, and hauled off into 
 
 the bay. Ward, in the meantime, had 
 been beset bv some of his religious New 
 
 */ O 
 
 England friends, who gave him such a 
 bad account of the morals of Mugford. 
 that he sent off an express to withdraw 
 his orders. It was, however, too late, the 
 enterprising skipper had sailed, and al 
 ready, before he had got well out of the 
 harbor, pounced upon a prize. This was 
 the ship Hope, last from Cork, a vessel 
 of two hundred and seventy tons, four 
 guns and seventeen men, and laden with 
 fifteen hundred barrels of gunpowder, 
 and a large supply of arms, implements, 
 and other necessaries, intended for Howe s 
 army supposed to be still at Boston. As 
 soon as Mugford got a sight of her, he 
 ran his little schooner alongside and or 
 dered her to strike, which she did at once 
 without resistance, although her captain, 
 seeing that the British men-of-war were 
 so near that they would be able to come 
 shortly to his aid, ordered his men to cut 
 the top-sail, halliards, and ties. Mugford 
 heard the order, and knew that if it was 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.") 
 
 ONE MUGFORD. 
 
 281 
 
 executed he would certainly lose his prize, 
 for it would give time to the British men- 
 of-war to send their boats to the relief of 
 the Hope, before she could be managea 
 ble. Mugford s impiety, which had near 
 ly lost him his command, now appeared 
 to serve him a good purpose, for he 
 opened, says Gordon, upon the Hope s 
 captain with vollies of oaths and execra 
 tions; and in the most horrid manner 
 threatened him and every one on board 
 with immediate death, if the order was 
 executed, upon which the captain was so 
 terrified as to desist. 
 
 It was fast-day in Boston, and its good 
 people were just returning from church, 
 but, notwithstanding the seriousness be 
 coming such a religious occasion, they 
 could not contain their manifestations of 
 delight as Mugford came into the harbor 
 with his prize. Our skipper, encouraged 
 by the success of his first attempt, soon 
 started out for another cruise with the 
 
 Franklin and the Lady Wash- 
 May 19, . 
 
 ington, but in going down the 
 
 bay the former got aground, and the 
 two dropped their anchors. While thus 
 anchored, they w r ere observed by the 
 British admiral who sent off at midnight 
 thirteen boats to attack them. The men 
 on both sides struggled manfully, and 
 Mugford succeeded in sinking two of the 
 boats. While foremost in the fight, how r - 
 ever, he was mortally wounded, but con 
 tinued to cheer on his men, shouting 
 out with his last breath, as he fell, " Do 
 not give up the ship you will beat 
 them off." And the men, without the 
 loss of a single life but that of their gal 
 lant commander, did beat the enemy off! 
 36 
 
 The Bostonians, exceed inglv anxious 
 
 o / 
 
 as they were to get rid of the British 
 war-vessels, which, numbering some ten 
 sail in all, presented a threatening aspect, 
 readily concurred in General Lincoln s 
 plans for driving them away. Every 
 thing being in readiness, the cit- 
 
 JllI16 13 
 
 izens of Boston were made aware 
 by beat of drum that the expedition was 
 to set out. One detachment of soldiers, 
 amounting to nearly six hundred men, 
 was accordingly embarked and sent to 
 Fetlock s island and hill, another detach 
 ment took post on Morn island, Hoik s 
 neck, and Point Olderton, while a third 
 with artillery sailed for Long island. 
 The troops did not arrive at their several 
 places of destination until near morning, 
 but were active and alert for action. The 
 cannon were soon planted, and a single 
 shot fired as an announcement to the 
 enemy of their intention. The commo 
 dore immediately hoisted a signal for the 
 fleet to get under way, but in the mean 
 time returned the Americans fire, and 
 did not succeed in getting under sail un 
 til a shot from Long island had damaged, 
 somewhat, his upper rigging. Thus, on 
 the very anniversary of the day on which, 
 two years before, the British government 
 had prohibited the sailing of any vessel 
 from Boston, w T as its harbor made free. 
 
 No sooner had the British admiral gone 
 than several English vessels arrived off 
 the harbor of Boston, and as they sup 
 posed Howe still in possession, they came 
 in without suspicion, and were thus cap 
 tured. Among these were the George 
 and Anabella, transports, which arrived 
 after a passage of seven weeks from Scot- 
 
282 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 land, in the course of which they had 
 no opportunity of speaking a single ves 
 sel which could inform them of the evac 
 uation of Boston. When off the coast, 
 they were attacked by four privateers, 
 with whom they fought until evening, 
 when the latter bore away and the trans 
 ports sought protection, as they supposed, 
 by sailing for the harbor of Boston. They 
 stood in and were passing up Nantasket 
 roads, when an American battery opened 
 upon them, and gave them the first proof 
 that they had got among enemies instead 
 of friends, as they had anticipated. The 
 wind had died away, and the tide being 
 still on the flood, there was no chance 
 for them to get out again. The priva 
 teers, which had had a brush with them 
 outside, now came up and prepared to 
 renew the fight, the transports being 
 hailed to strike the British flag. The 
 sailors were ready to yield at once, but 
 the lieutenant-colonel in command of the 
 troops on board persisted in resistance, 
 and was readily obeyed by his soldiers. 
 The fight now began, and was continued 
 for an hour and a half, when all their 
 ammunition being expended, the British 
 vessels surrendered, after losing one offi 
 cer, and some twenty-five others killed 
 or wounded. The troops which were 
 captured amounted to over three hundred 
 men, and with them was taken also as a 
 prisoner Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell, a 
 man of rank and an officer of distinction. 
 Major-General Ward and Brigadier- 
 General Frye had sent in their resigna 
 tions, which were accepted by Congress 
 on the twenty-third of April, but they 
 continued to serve until the operations 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 at Boston we have just narrated were 
 brought to a close, when they were re 
 lieved by new appointments. Through 
 the New England influence, which watch 
 ed with great jealousy the advancement 
 of the military leaders who belonged to 
 the middle and southern provinces, Con 
 gress now made another promotion which 
 caused no little trouble in New York. 
 Gates, having been sent by Washington 
 to Philadelphia to confer with Congress 
 in regard to the disastrous state of affairs 
 in Canada, succeeded in obtaining pro 
 motion to a major-generalship and the 
 
 command of the northern army 
 
 , ,, . a June 18, 
 
 principally through the influence 
 
 of the New-Englanders, with whom he 
 had greatly ingratiated himself, during 
 his service before Boston. 
 
 Horatio Gates was born in England. 
 "He was," says Horace Walpole, "the 
 son of a housekeeper of the second duke 
 of Leeds, who marrying a young husband 
 had this son by him. That duke of Leeds 
 had been saved of a Jacobite plot by my 
 father, Sir Robert Walpole, and the duke 
 was very grateful and took notice of me 
 when quite a boy. My mother s woman 
 was intimate with that housekeeper, and 
 thence I was God-father to her son, though 
 I believe not then ten years old myself. 
 This God-son, Horatio Gates, was pro 
 tected by General Cornwallis when gov 
 ernor of Halifax, but being afterward 
 disappointed of preferment in the army, 
 he joined the Americans." He first came 
 to America as an officer in an expedition 
 against the French in Nova Scotia. On 
 his return to London, he was consulted 
 by the British ministry in regard to the 
 
.REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 283 
 
 proposed campaign under Braddock, but 
 modestly pleading his youth, declined to 
 give any advice. He, however, served 
 in that famous expedition which resulted 
 so fatally, and showed himself a brave 
 and efficient officer. It was then that he 
 became acquainted with Washington, 
 and formed a warm friendship for him. 
 Through this alliance he became familiar 
 with colonial life in Virginia, and so 
 strongly attached to the country, that 
 he determined to settle there. This res 
 olution was strengthened by his mar 
 riage to an American woman. Accord 
 ingly, selling out his commission in the 
 British army, he bought a plantation in 
 Virginia. Here he retired within his 
 "Traveller s Rest," as he fondly called 
 his estate, apparently resolving no longer 
 to mingle in the busy world without. 
 
 To General Charles Lee, who was an 
 old comrade, and whom he desired to 
 become his neighbor and participator 
 with him in the delights of his rural re 
 treat, he w r rites : 
 
 " I know not how you find it ; but the 
 older I grow, I become less and less in 
 clined to new acquaintance. Selfishness 
 and sycophancy possess so generally the 
 minds of men, that I think the many are 
 best avoided, and the few only, who are 
 liberal and sincere, to be sought for and 
 caressed. I therefore stick steadily to 
 the cultivation of my farm, am intimate 
 with few, read when I have time, and 
 content myself with such domestic com 
 forts as my circumstances and fortune 
 afford me. I wish, therefore, most anx 
 iously, you would come to my retreat, 
 and there let us philosophize on the 
 
 vices and virtues of this busy world, the 
 follies and the vanities of the great vul 
 gar and the small. 
 
 " Laugh when we please, be candid when we can, 
 And justify the ways of God to man. 
 
 " Mrs. Gates is earnest in desiring to 
 see you under her roof, where a good bed 
 is provided for you, two or three slaves to 
 supply all your wants, and space enough 
 about us for you to exercise away all 
 your spleen and gloomy moods, when 
 soever they distress you. In my neigh 
 borhood there is this moment as fine a 
 farm-mill and tract of land to be sold as 
 any in America, and provided it is con 
 venient to you to pay down half the 
 price, I am convinced you may have it 
 a very great bargain. It is altogether 
 two thousand four hundred acres, at 
 thirty shillings sterling an acre. I am 
 satisfied you might have it so. By pay 
 ing dow r n about one thousand eight hun 
 dred pounds sterling, you may be put in 
 possession of an estate that ten years 
 hence will be worth seven thousand 
 pounds sterling ; and I take it for grant 
 ed that you may have the payment of 
 the rest of the purchase-money at easy 
 installments, and that, too, without in 
 terest ; so, by laying out a thousand 
 pounds sterling more in stocking and 
 improvements, your produce will yield 
 you a fine living, and wherewithal to pay 
 your annual installment bargained for in 
 the purchase." 
 
 Lee was tempted by the supposed at 
 tractions of rural life, and, in common 
 with Gates and Washington, retired to 
 cultivate his own acres, but was soon 
 
284 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11 
 
 called to exchange the ploughshare for 
 the sword ; and not reluctantly, we would 
 believe, apart from his devotion to a 
 cause which would have prompted him 
 to make every sacrifice of personal ease 
 and comfort. All three were soldiers by 
 nature, and would not have been long 
 content with harvests of corn and tobacco, 
 while there were laurels to reap on the 
 field of battle. When the troubles with 
 the mother-country began to agitate the 
 provinces, Lee, Gates, and Washington 
 were often together, and warming with 
 indignation, as they talked over the op 
 pressive acts of English tyranny, began 
 already to think of taking down their 
 hanging swords, and girding them on 
 for the coming campaign. " I am ready 
 to resign my life to preserve the liberty 
 of the western world," says Gates at the 
 close of the very letter just quoted, in 
 which he philosophizes on the charms of 
 the retirement of his " Traveller s Rest." 
 
 Together with Lee, he accompanied 
 Washington to Cambridge, to whose in 
 fluence he was chiefly indebted for his 
 appointment as adjutant-general. Wash 
 ington was so conscious of the military 
 deficiencies of the militia leaders, that he 
 was greatly anxious to secure the soldier 
 ly attainments of his friends Lee and 
 Gates, whom he knew to be accomplished 
 officers. In the beginning of the struggle 
 they were almost indispensable. Time 
 revealed, and experience perfected the 
 military talents of some American of 
 ficers upon whose skill Washington could 
 equally trust, and in whose disinterested 
 patriotism he had more faith. 
 
 Gates was now at the height of popu 
 
 larity. He was personally always a favor 
 ite from his courteous manners and kindli 
 ness of heart; but he was misled by vanity 
 to an undue appreciation of his capacity. 
 He was not a man of brilliant qualities ; 
 and though his ambition prompted him 
 to aspire to the loftiest military position, 
 he was not possessed of the genius of a 
 great commander. 
 
 At the beginning of the Revolutionary 
 war, Gates was between fifty and sixty 
 years old ; with his scant gray hair and 
 <: spectacles on nose," he looked fully his 
 age. He had a brisk, good-natured manner, 
 and was of a cheerful and social humor. 
 
 Being appointed to the command in 
 Canada, Gates proceeded to the North, 
 but found on his arrival in Albany that 
 there was no longer, in consequence of 
 the retreat to Crown Point we have al 
 ready described, any force in Canada to 
 command. Gates would seem, therefore, 
 to have been very much in the position 
 of Sancho Panza, in his imaginary Bara- 
 traria, a governor without a government. 
 He, how r ever, was not disposed to rest con 
 tented w r ith this impersonal condition, 
 and laid claim to the command of the 
 northern army wherever it might be. In 
 this he seems to have been instigated 
 not only by his own ambitious longings, 
 but by the officious provocatives of his 
 zealous New England friends. " I find," 
 writes Joseph Trumbull to Gates, " you 
 are in a cursed situation, 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." 
 
RE VOL UTIONARY.] 
 
 DISCORD AND DISORDER. 
 
 285 
 
 Schuyler resisted Gates s claims ; and 
 as they could not agree upon the matter 
 between themselves, they referred it to 
 Congress, while in the meantime they 
 resolved to act as harmoniously as pos 
 sible with each other, until an authorita 
 tive decision should be received. Gen 
 eral Sullivan, too, thought himself entitled 
 to grumble at the appointment of Gates, 
 who certainly superseded him in rank, 
 however Schuyler s position might be 
 affected. Sullivan accordingly obtained 
 leave of absence from Washington, and 
 made his way to Philadelphia, where he 
 laid his grievances and his resignation 
 before Congress, but being soothed by 
 compliments upon the judiciousness of 
 his late retreat from Canada, was induced 
 to recall his resignation and return to his 
 duty. 
 
 The question between Gates and Schuy 
 ler was soon settled by the decision of 
 Congress in favor of the pretensions of 
 the latter. Washington had been much 
 harassed by these bickerings among his 
 officers, whose example had been very 
 extensively followed even by the soldiers, 
 who were in a constant state of irritabil 
 ity from sectional feeling. He incloses a 
 copy of the Congressional decision to 
 Schuyler, and takes occasion to say, in 
 regard to his dispute with Gates : "I hope 
 that harmony and a good agreement will 
 subsist between you, as the most likely 
 means of advancing the interests of the 
 cause which you both wish to promote." 
 A few days subsequently, in another let 
 ter, he writes : " I am extremely sorry to 
 have such unfavorable accounts of the 
 condition of the army. Sickness of itself 
 
 July 6 
 
 is sufficiently bad ; but when discord and 
 disorder are added, greater misfortunes 
 can not befall it, except that of a defeat. 
 I must entreat your attention to these 
 matters, and your exertions to introduce 
 more discipline, and to do away the un 
 happy and pernicious distinctions and 
 jealousies between the troops of different 
 governments." 
 
 Sufficient harmony seems finally to 
 have been established between Schuyler 
 and Gates for co-operation, after receiv 
 ing the decision of Congress ; and the 
 two proceeded together to the American 
 army at Crown Point, accom 
 panied by Arnold, who had gone 
 to Albany to report the state of the 
 troops after the retreat, and the threat 
 ening progress of the enemy. Upon 
 reaching Crown Point, a council of war 
 was held, and it was resolved unanim 
 ously that that post should be abandoned 
 and the army removed to Ticonderoga. 
 This was opposed by many of the subor 
 dinate officers, who resorted to the un- 
 military proceeding of preparing and 
 signing a remonstrance against the deci 
 sion of their superiors. Washington him 
 self, on receiving this extraordinary paper, 
 although he condemned the signers of it, 
 seems to have been impressed with the 
 views they held in regard to the abandon 
 ment of Crown Point. "I doubt not," 
 he writes, " that the measure was duly 
 weighed by the general officers in coun 
 cil, and seemed to them best calculated to 
 secure the colonies, and prevent the ene 
 my from penetrating into them. How 
 ever, I can not but observe though I do 
 not mean to encourage in the smallest 
 
286 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 degree, or to give the least .sanction to 
 inferior officers to set up their opinions 
 against the proceedings and councils of 
 their superiors, knowing the dangerous 
 tendency of such a practice that the 
 reasons assigned by the officers in their 
 remonstrance appear to me forcible and 
 of great weight." The subject was sub 
 sequently greatly discussed, and finally 
 the opinion of all military men concurred 
 in justifying the expediency of the re 
 moval of the army to Ticonderoga. 
 
 Washington, troubled by the unfor 
 tunate result in Canada, could get but 
 little consolation from the state of things 
 in New York. Howe was hourly ex 
 pected, with his army greatly increased 
 by large reinforcements of British regu 
 lars, and mercenary troops composed of 
 Hessians, Brunswickers, and other Ger 
 mans; and Washington knew that his 
 own force was neither in such numbers 
 nor condition as to resist successfully a 
 vigorous attack. Called to Philadelphia 
 by Congress, to aid them with his coun 
 sels in this emergency, he succeeded in 
 prevailing upon them to vote a reinforce 
 ment to the army of thirteen thousand 
 eight hundred militia, the formation of a 
 flying camp to consist of ten thousand 
 men, and the construction of as many 
 fire rafts, gondolas and floating batteries 
 as might be deemed necessary by Wash 
 ington for the defence of the bay and 
 rivers surrounding New York. During 
 his absence, General Putnam succeeded 
 to the temporary command, and contin 
 ued to push vigorously the various works 
 at New York, while Greene was no less 
 active on Long Island. 
 
 Washington, on his return, as he 
 thought that the enemy would probably 
 soon after their arrival, attempt to force 
 their way up the North river, determined 
 to erect new, and strengthen the old for 
 tifications on its. banks, with the view of 
 preventing the passage of the British ves 
 sels. He accordingly ordered Colonel 
 James Clinton, a New York officer, to 
 take the command, and complete the con 
 struction of Fort Montgomery, near the 
 Highlands, and Fort Constitution on an 
 island opposite to West Point. Other 
 works were also begun under the super 
 vision of the chief engineer, Colonel Eu- 
 fus Putnam, at King s Bridge and on 
 the neighboring heights. There were a 
 breastwork to defend the bridge, a redoubt 
 on a hill overlooking the Hudson river, 
 where, by means of the Spuyten Duyvil 
 creek, it joins the Harlem river, and forms 
 the northern water-boundary of the island 
 of New York, and a strong fortification 
 called Fort Washington, also on the Hud 
 son, but several miles nearer New York. 
 This last work was directly opposite to 
 Fort Lee, w T hich was on the west side, and 
 it was supposed that the two together 
 could command the passage. 
 
 Washington, while thus providing de 
 fences against the open enemies of the 
 country, was beset by the machinations 
 of some secret plotters against him and 
 his army. By the disclosure of one of 
 Washington s own guard, who had been 
 tampered with, a conspiracy was discov 
 ered, which was supposed to have for its 
 object the capture of Washington, a gen 
 eral massacre of his principal officers, the 
 spiking of the guns, the blowing up of 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 TRYON S PLOT. 
 
 287 
 
 the forts and magazines, and the securing 
 of the passes of the city, in order that 
 New York and the patriot army might 
 be at the mercy of Howe on the day of 
 his arrival. 
 
 An investigation having taken place, 
 the plot was traced through the dirty 
 sources of various pot-houses, tavern- 
 keepers, gunsmiths, negro servants, drum 
 mers, fifers, and the mayor, Matthews, to 
 the arch-conspirator Tryon himself. This 
 tory governor, it seems, had, from his safe 
 refuge on board a man-of-war off Sandy 
 Hook, where the British ships were at 
 anchor, devised the scheme, and tempted 
 the worthless to co-operate with him by 
 the offer of five pounds and two hundred 
 acres of land to each man who should 
 enter the king s service, one hundred 
 acres to his wife, and fifty to each child, 
 with the understanding that he should 
 
 remain in New York and lend his aid se 
 cretly to the royal cause. The mayor, 
 in conjunction with many of his fellow 
 tory citizens, readily concurred in and 
 gave their aid to Tryon s plot. A large 
 number of worthless fellows, who were 
 in the habit of resorting to the low pot 
 houses of the town, were easily won over 
 by the governor s bribe, and among these 
 were some of the most dissolute of the sol 
 diers. Washington s own guard 
 even supplied two of the villains. 
 One of the name of Thomas Hickey, an 
 Irish deserter from the British army, a 
 stout, dark-faced fellow, was tried by 
 court-martial, and, being found guilty of 
 mutiny and treason, was led out by a 
 strong military guard, and hung in a 
 field, now forming a part of the Bowery, 
 before a crowd of twenty thousand spec 
 tators. 
 
 June 28. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton on the Move. The South his Object. The Provincials timely informed. Arrival of British Fleet auu 
 Troops off the Coast of South Carolina. Clinton s Life and Character. Charleston on the Alert. Preparations to 
 receive the Enemy. General Lee on the Ground. Assumes the Command. Lee suggests to swear the Militia in. 
 Governor Rutledge opposes. Lee s emphatic Appeal. The Provincial Deficiencies. Lee s Anxiety. The English 
 Fleet taking Position. Lee lectures his Men. The Attack on Fort Sullivan begins. The Response from the Ameri 
 can Batteries. The unsuccessful Attempt of the British to land. Lee encouraged by the Good Conduct of the Militia. 
 The British beaten off. The Havoc. Sir Peter s " Honor gone." Wounded in the Breech. The heroic Sergeant 
 Jasper. MacDonald. The Actaen in Flames. Moultrie s Gallantry. Fort Sullivan receives the Name of Moultrie. 
 The beaten British sail for New York. 
 
 1776, 
 
 IT will be recollected that Sir 
 
 Henry Clinton, as has been already 
 recorded, left Boston with a small fleet 
 in the month of January. New York 
 was at that time supposed to be the ob 
 ject of the expedition, and in fact Clin 
 
 ton called in there with a single vessel, 
 where Lee, having been sent by Wash 
 ington to oppose his landing, happened 
 to arrive on the same day, and wrote 
 thus of the occurrence : " He [Clinton] 
 brought no troops with him, and pledges 
 
288 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 his honor 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." What 
 ever might be Clinton s purpose in his 
 visit to New York, an attack on that city 
 was certainly not the object of his expe 
 dition. 
 
 Howe had received a despatch from 
 the British government, in which it was 
 stated that assurances had been received 
 that the inhabitants of the southern colo 
 nies were so loyally disposed that they 
 were ready to join the king s army on 
 the least show of force there. Clinton 
 was accordingly to be sent with a respect 
 able display of British power, in order 
 to encourage the manifestations of the 
 cautious loyalty of the South. If, how 
 ever, these expectations of tory concur 
 rence should prove unfounded, he was to 
 gain possession "of some respectable post 
 to the southward, from which the rebels 
 might be annoyed by sudden and unex 
 pected attacks on their towns upon the 
 sea-coast during open winter," and Clin 
 ton was positively ordered to destroy 
 any towns which would not submit to 
 the king s authority. 
 
 Clinton had sailed from Boston with 
 orders from Howe, based on this despatch. 
 The Americans became aware of the ob 
 ject of his expedition, by the fortunate 
 capture of a British vessel, on board of 
 which was found this letter addressed by 
 the British government to Governor Eden 
 of Maryland: 
 
 "WHITEHALL, December 23, 1775. 
 
 "Sir: An armament of seven regi 
 ments, with a fleet of frigates and small 
 
 ships, is now in readiness to proceed to 
 the southern colonies, in order to attempt 
 the restoration of legal government in 
 that part of America. It will proceed 
 in the first place to North Carolina, and 
 from thence either to South Carolina or 
 Virginia, as circumstances shall point 
 out." 
 
 This fleet of men-of-war and transports 
 was under the command of Admiral Sir 
 Peter Parker, and reached the rendezvous 
 at Cape Fear in May, where they joined 
 the small squadron which had brought 
 Sir Henry Clinton and his troops from 
 Boston. 
 
 gmia, 
 
 Nothing could be done in Vir- 
 as Lord Dunmore s ill success 
 
 proved ; and nothing in North Carolina, 
 as was equally clear from the mishap of 
 Governor Martin, with his Highlanders 
 and Regulators in that colony. It was 
 therefore determined to try South Caro 
 lina, and begin by making an attempt on 
 Charleston. Confident in their large 
 naval armament under Parker, and their 
 numerous troops which amounted in all 
 to three thousand men under Cornwallis 
 and Clinton, who now assumed the com 
 mand of all the land forces, they sailed 
 down the coast, in full anticipation of an 
 easy victory. The admiral s well-known 
 dash and courage gave spirit to his men, 
 and the soldiers obeyed with alacrity their 
 general, who, although still young, had 
 served with honor in the wars of Europe. 
 Henry Clinton was of distinguished 
 family. His grandfather was the earl of 
 Lincoln, and his father was appointed, 
 through the influence of his aristocratic 
 connections, governor of New York in 
 1743. The son entered the army at an 
 
REVOLUTIONARY] 
 
 DEFENCES OF CHARLESTON. 
 
 early age, and had served in a European 
 campaign, when he was raised to the rank 
 of major-general, and ordered to Boston 
 with General Howe in 1775. He showed 
 his martial spirit and courage while there 
 by dashing across the river to the aid of 
 Howe during his struggle with the patri 
 ots on Bunker s hill, although without a 
 command on that day. He had now been 
 chosen for a service of moment, not only 
 on account of his prominent military rank, 
 but also for his well-known skill and dar 
 ing. Clinton was not popular with the 
 multitude, but his friendship was cher 
 ished by the few. He looked the Eng 
 lishman with his " short and fat" body, 
 " his full face and prominent nose " and 
 had that cold reserve of manner, with 
 casual acquaintances, which is supposed 
 to characterize his countrymen. 
 
 South Carolina was not unprepared for 
 the formidable force now sailing down its 
 coast, and threatening destruction to its 
 chief city. Throughout the province the 
 patriots had been diligent, and particu 
 larly at Charleston, which, from its impor 
 tance as a commercial town, the excel 
 lence of its harbor, and the command it 
 gave of the interior country and the 
 southern coast, presented a desirable cap 
 ture to the enemy. To secure the town 
 against such a misfortune, the patriots 
 busied themselves in fortifying it, and 
 principally the islands which command 
 the approach to the harbor. The chief 
 works were erected on the southwestern 
 extremity of Sullivan s and on James s 
 islands, in order to defend the passage 
 between the two, which leads from the 
 sea to the harbor. On the former was 
 
 37 
 
 built a strong fort of palmetto, w r hich is 
 peculiarly serviceable for the purpose of 
 defence, since, from its spongy texture, a 
 ball on striking it sinks into it, withou 
 splitting the w r ood or shattering the struc 
 ture. Colonel Moultrie had constructed 
 this fort, and, mounting it with twenty- 
 six heavy cannon, now garrisoned it with 
 three hundred and seventy-five South- 
 Carolina regulars and some few militia 
 men. The work on James s island, which 
 was called Fort Johnson, was in charge 
 of Colonel Gadsden, commanding a sin 
 gle regiment. Cannon, with breastworks, 
 were also placed on the northeastern end 
 of Sullivan s island ; at Wad dell s point, 
 on the mainland to the north ; and along 
 the w r harves in front of the town. 
 
 When the intelligence reached Charles 
 ton that the British fleet had an 
 chored off the coast about eigh 
 teen miles from Sullivan s island, the 
 whole country around was aroused into 
 activity by the firing of the alarm-guns 
 from the forts. The militia were every 
 where called out, and hurried to the de 
 fence of the capital. Some, on their ar 
 rival, were distributed among the several 
 garrisons ; while others joined the inhab 
 itants, in strengthening the immediate de 
 fences of the city. Stores on the wharves 
 were pulled down to make w r ay for breast 
 works ; barricades were thrown across, 
 and cannon planted in, the streets. Some 
 seven hundred negroes were ordered 
 down from the country, to assist in the 
 labor ; and so universal was the interest, 
 " that hoes and spades were in the hands 
 of every citizen" day and night, and men 
 willingly exchanged their beds and home 
 
290 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 comforts for the ground and open air, 
 with nothing but "blankets and knap 
 sacks." 
 
 General Lee had arrived, to assume the 
 chief command ; and " the great opinion 
 which was everywhere entertained of his 
 ability and experience, added to the spir 
 its of the troops and inhabitants." With 
 his usual fondness for swearing, Lee in 
 augurated his command by a proposition 
 to bind the militia by an oath. Governor 
 Rutledge had scruples about the legality 
 of the measure ; but the men themselves 
 were so ardent at that time, that they all 
 came forward, with the exception of two, 
 and volunteered to swear in accordance 
 with Lee s desire. 
 
 The orders of the general are charac 
 teristic. Each word in the following 
 snaps like a firelock: 
 
 " As it now appears almost a certainty 
 (from the intelligence of some deserters) 
 that the enemy s intention is to make an 
 attack on the city ; and as the general is 
 confident that the numbers and spirit of 
 the garrison will prevent their landing, 
 it only remains to guard against the in 
 jury which the city may receive from 
 their cannon. 
 
 " The continental troops, provincials, 
 and militia, are therefore most earnestly 
 conjured to work with no less alacrity, 
 than fight with courage. Courage alone 
 will not suffice in war ; true soldiers and 
 magnanimous citizens must brandish the 
 pickaxe and spade, as well as the sword, 
 in defence of their country : one or two 
 days labor, at this critical juncture, may 
 not only save many worthy families from 
 ruin, but many worthy individuals from 
 
 loss of limbs and life. On this principle 
 the general does not, simply in his capa 
 city of commanding officer, order, but en 
 treat the whole garrison (those on the 
 necessary duties excepted) to exert them 
 selves in forwarding the requisite works 
 of protection. 
 
 " The colonels, or commanding officers 
 of the corps, are to review their men s 
 arms this evening at roll-calling ; to take 
 care they are in as good order as pos 
 sible, and that they are furnished with 
 good flints. The officers commanding 
 the different guards are to do the same 
 with their respective guards. 
 
 " For the future it must be observed, 
 as an established rule, that no artillery- 
 officer fires a single cannon without pre 
 viously acquainting the general." 
 
 All seemed to be actuated by a very 
 determined spirit of resistance at Charles 
 ton, and the preparations to meet the 
 enemy were made with great energy, 
 and with as much skill as could be com 
 manded. The resources of the patriots, 
 however, were in some respects very de 
 ficient. Powder was so scarce, that each 
 soldier in the forts was allowed only a 
 limited number of rounds ; and lead so 
 scanty, that it became necessary to strip 
 the windows of the dwelling-houses in the 
 town of their weights, to melt and run 
 into bullets. 
 
 Lee was very anxious about the result, 
 for he had little faith in the steadiness 
 and discipline of the American troops, 
 most of whom were either raw recruits 
 or militiamen. He w r as particularly de 
 sirous to strengthen the works on Fort 
 Sullivan, which to his experienced eye 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 LANDING OF THE ENEMY. 
 
 291 
 
 appeared by no means to satisfy the de 
 mands of military art. He accordingly, 
 after making a thorough personal inspec 
 tion, points out the deficiencies, and or 
 ders that " the screen behind the aperture 
 of the traverse be immediately begun and 
 finished with all possible expedition; that 
 a breastwork of timber, six feet high, be 
 raised on the rampart ; and that a ban 
 quet be raised behind the traverse, so as 
 to enable the musquetry to fire over; 
 the parapet to be made higher, the ditch 
 deeper and wider, a screen to be thrown 
 up behind the entrance, and a facade of 
 fascines or old timber to be constructed, 
 as necessary to keep up the light sand 
 of which the breastwork of the rear-guard 
 is composed." Lee was all astir, going 
 from fort to fort, and issuing these em 
 phatic orders. 
 
 Thirty-six of the English transports 
 finally came up, and all crossed the bar in 
 safety, with the exception of two, 
 one of which was got off, but the 
 other went to pieces. The vessels then 
 anchored off Long island, which is situ 
 ated to the northeast of Sullivan s, from 
 which it is only separated by a narrow 
 channel or creek. Sir Henry Clinton 
 here landed two thousand of his troops 
 and about five hundred sailors, with the 
 intention of passing over to Sullivan s 
 island, but was prevented by the depth 
 of the creek, which was no longer forda- 
 ble, in consequence of the large quantity 
 of water driven into it by the strong and 
 long-continued easterly winds. Clinton 
 was accordingly forced to raise two bai> 
 teries to secure his position upon Long 
 island, and to cover a proposed landing 
 
 June 7. 
 
 with his boats (to which he would now 
 be obliged to resort) upon the eastern 
 end of Sullivan s, where the Americans 
 principally riflemen, under the command 
 of Colonel Thompson had posted them 
 selves behind a breastwork. 
 
 General Lee was especially anxious 
 about this position, and says to Thomp 
 son, in a characteristic order for the day 
 " It is a certain truth that the enemy 
 entertain a most fortunate apprehension 
 of American riflemen. It is equally cer 
 tain that nothing can diminish this ap 
 prehension so infallibly as a frequent in 
 effectual fire. It is with some concern, 
 therefore, that I am informed that your 
 men have been suffered to fire at a most 
 preposterous distance. Upon this prin 
 ciple I must entreat and insist that you 
 consider it as a standing order, that not 
 a man under your command is to fire at 
 a greater distance than one hundred and 
 fifty yards, at the utmost ; in short, that 
 they never fire without almost a moral 
 certainty of hitting their obj ect. Distant 
 firing has a doubly bad effect : it encour 
 ages the enemy, and adds to the perni 
 cious persuasion of the American soldiers, 
 viz., that they are no match for their antago 
 nists at close fighting. To speak plainly, it 
 is almost a sure method of making them 
 cowards. Once more, I must request that 
 a stop be put to this childish, vicious, and 
 scandalous practice. I extend the rule 
 to those who have the care of the field- 
 pieces ; four hundred yards is the great 
 est distance they should be allowed to 
 fire at. A transgression of this rule will 
 be considered as the effect of flurry and 
 want of courage." 
 
292 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 I FART II. 
 
 Some of Thompson s men. from fool- 
 nardiness or curiosity, had crossed the 
 creek to Long island; whereat Lee is 
 greatly inflamed, and asks, in a postscript 
 to his order : " Is this wise ? Is it soldier 
 like ? Is it to show the enemy where our 
 weakness is ?" 
 
 Sir Henry, while busy with his works 
 on L ong island, took occasion in the mean 
 time io issue a proclamation, appealing 
 to the loyalty of the people of Charles 
 ton ; but it only served to inflame them 
 to greater patriotism and to more active 
 efforts for defence. The British com 
 mander seemed in no haste to attempt 
 to cross over to Sullivan s island ; and in 
 the meantime his troops suffered greatly, 
 while laboring at the works, from the 
 sweltering summer heat,from which there 
 was no relief of shade on the sandy, des 
 ert island upon which they had landed. 
 Some of them became sun-struck, many 
 ill with dysentery, and all more or less 
 affected by the severe heat and the brack 
 ish water with which they were forced 
 to satisfy their burning thirst. 
 
 The admiral was less patient than Clin 
 ton, and hastened to take his position off 
 Sullivan s island, which he proposed to 
 make the object of his attack. He had, 
 soon after his arrival, moved the Bristol, 
 his own ship, a fifty-gun vessel, 
 opposite to the large fort on the 
 western extremity of the island. He ex 
 perienced some difficulty in crossing the 
 bar, but, by lighting the ship of some of 
 her cannon, finally succeeded in anchor 
 ing her in position. It was not until the 
 28th of June (when he was joined by a 
 large man-of-war of fifty guns, the arrival 
 
 June 10. 
 
 of which he had been awaiting) that he 
 determined to make his attack. On that 
 day accordingly, at eleven o clock in the 
 morning, he began to move his ships. 
 He brought the Experiment of fifty, the 
 Active of twenty-eight, and the Solebay 
 of the same number of guns, in line with 
 his own ship the Bristol, and moved them 
 all in close to the front of the fort; and 
 ordered the Action, Siren, and Sphinx, 
 each twenty-eights, to try to get inside, 
 within the western extremity of the isl 
 and, where the fort was known to be in 
 complete. These vessels, however, in at 
 tempting to get into position, got aground 
 upon a shoal called the Middle Ground. 
 The Actseon stuck fast, and all efforts to 
 move her proved ineffectual. The other 
 two got afoul of each other, and the 
 Sphinx lost her bowsprit in consequence ; 
 but they finally succeeded, in the course 
 of several hours, in getting off, although 
 in the meantime they were exposed to a 
 severe fire from the fort. 
 
 As the vessels were getting into posi 
 tion, the Thunder (bomb) was throwing 
 her shells upon the island, but not with 
 much effect, for most of them fell into a 
 morass, w r here the fuses were soon cxtin 
 guished. The Active was the first to 
 haul in and anchor in front of the fort. 
 As she approached, the Americans fired 
 a shot or two at her, to try, as it were, 
 the range of their guns. She was soon 
 followed by the other ships ; and when 
 they had fairly let go their anchors, they 
 began to pour in their broadsides, whicii 
 were returned by a deadly fire from the 
 forts. The vessels kept up an incessant 
 and well-directed cannonade ; but their 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] SUCCESSFUL DEFENCE OF CHARLESTON. 
 
 293 
 
 balls, although well aimed, did but little 
 mischief, as they sank into the spongy 
 palmetto-wood without causing injury to 
 the works. The American riflemen, in 
 consequence of their small allowance of 
 powder, did not fire rapidly, but always 
 with effect. Thus the struggle was kept 
 up, from noon till night. There was a 
 pause for a long time in the fire of the 
 fort, from a want of ammunition, and the 
 enemy began to think they had won the 
 day ; but Lee, who was stationed at Had- 
 drell s point, on the mainland, took care 
 to send a supply, and soon the riflemen 
 were enabled to renew their deadly shots. 
 
 Clinton in the meantime made an at 
 tempt to land from Long island with a 
 flotilla of small boats ; but Thompson and 
 his men, bearing in mind Lee s orders, 
 took care to wait till they reached with 
 in musket-shot, and then poured upon 
 them such a volley, that Clinton was 
 forced to retire. The struggle still con 
 tinued between the ships and Fort Sul 
 livan. 
 
 Lee was full of anxiety during this 
 prolonged contest. He knew that the 
 garrison was composed entirely of raw 
 troops ; he knew that their ammunition 
 was short; and as the bridge of boats, 
 which he had begun to construct between 
 the island and the mainland, was not yet 
 completed, by which he might send rein 
 forcements, he was fearful that all would 
 be lost. He attempted to reach the isl 
 and ; but his boat, carried adrift by the 
 wind and the tide, could not make the 
 place. His aid-de-camp w r as more fortu 
 nate, and came back from his visit with 
 the most inspiriting accounts of the tem 
 
 per of the garrison. Lee was for awhile 
 doubtful of the prudence of continuing 
 the conflict ; but, on hearing of the spirit 
 of those in the fort, " I determined," he 
 says, " to support it at all hazards. On 
 this principle I thought it my duty to 
 cross over to the island, to encourage the 
 garrison by my presence ; but I might 
 have saved myself that trouble ; for I 
 found, on my arrival, they had no occa 
 sion for any sort of encouragement : I 
 found them determined and cool to the 
 last degree : their behavior would, in fact, 
 have done honor to the oldest troops." 
 Another witness tells us that so little con 
 fusion and disorder existed in the fort 
 when General Lee visited it, in the height 
 of the action, that the " officers laid aside 
 their pipes in order to receive him with 
 proper respect." 
 
 The fight was continued from noon un 
 til eleven o clock at night, w r hen Sir Peter 
 Parker was forced to slip his cables and 
 draw off his ships. The havoc upon his 
 decks had been terrible. The fight has 
 been eloquently described by no less a 
 person than Edmund Burke, who at that 
 time edited the "Annual Register," of 
 Dublin : " Whilst the continued thunder 
 from the ships seemed sufficient to shake 
 the firmness of the bravest enemy, and 
 daunt the courage of the most veteran 
 soldier, the return made by the fort could 
 not fail of calling for the respect, as well 
 as of highly incommoding, the brave sea 
 men 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 
 
294 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 ships suffered accordingly; they were torn 
 to pieces, and the slaughter was dread 
 ful. Never did British valor shine more 
 conspicuous, nor never did our marine, 
 in an engagement of the same nature 
 with any foreign enemy, experience as 
 rude an encounter. The springs of the 
 Bristol s cable being cut by the shot, she 
 lay for some time exposed in such a man 
 ner to the enemy s fire, as to be most 
 dreadfully raked. The brave Captain Mor 
 ris, after receiving a number of wounds, 
 which would have sufficiently justified a 
 gallant man in retiring from his station, 
 still with a noble obstinacy disdained to 
 quit his duty, until, his arm being at length 
 shot off, he was carried away in a condi 
 tion which did not afford a possibility of 
 recovery. 
 
 " It is said that the quarter-deck of the 
 Bristol was at one time cleared of every 
 person but the commodore, who stood 
 alone, a spectacle of intrepidity and firm 
 ness which has seldom been equalled, 
 never exceeded. The others on that 
 deck were either killed or carried down 
 to have their wounds dressed. Nor did 
 Captain Scott, of the Experiment, miss 
 his share of the danger or glory, who, be 
 sides the loss of an arm, received so many 
 other wounds, that his life was at first 
 de-spaired of." 
 
 Lord William Campbell, a brother of 
 the duke of Argyle, and the royal gov 
 ernor of the province of South Carolina, 
 served as a volunteer, and was mortally 
 wounded while directing a gun on the 
 lower deck of the Bristol. Sir Peter Par 
 ker exposed himself during the whole 
 fight with great courage, and continued, 
 
 although bleeding from a wound, to give 
 his orders calmly and discreetly. The 
 wags of Carolina amused themselves sub 
 sequently with writing verses on Sir Pe 
 ter s mishap, for the shot which struck 
 him had taken a direction which natural 
 ly provoked the humorous if it did not 
 inspire the poetical. Thus trolled one 
 of the newspaper versifiers of the day : 
 
 " If honor in the breech is lodged, 
 
 As Hudibras hath shown, 
 It may from hence be fairly judged 
 Sir Peter s honor s gone !" 
 
 The loss of the British was very heavy, 
 being nearly two hundred men in all, 
 killed and wounded. The vessels were 
 greatly damaged, particularly the two 
 fifty-gun ships, the Bristol and the Ex 
 periment, at which the fire of the garri 
 son was chiefly aimed. On the former, in 
 addition to the commodore, Lord Camp 
 bell, and Captain Morris, the two latter 
 mortally, sixty-nine men were wounded 
 and forty killed. On the Experiment, 
 her commander and seventy-nine of her 
 officers and men were among the killed 
 and wounded. This terrible havoc proves 
 how greatly these two vessels were ex 
 posed. Their masts and rigging were 
 cut up and riddled with shot, the Bristol 
 having had over seventy balls put into 
 her; their hulls were so battered and 
 broken, that several of the ports were 
 knocked into one. Moultrie, in the be 
 ginning of the engagement, had shouted 
 to his men, " Mind the commodore and 
 the fifty-gun ships !" We have seen how 
 w r ell they obeyed the word. 
 
 The Americans lost only thirty-five in 
 killed and wounded ; but the soft palmet- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 HONORS OF VICTORY. 
 
 295 
 
 to-wood of the fort was studded with balls 
 as full as a birthday-pudding with plums. 
 Almost every tree and hut on the island 
 was levelled to the ground ; and no less 
 than twelve hundred balls of different 
 weights, with a large number of shells, 
 were picked up next day in and about the 
 fort. All the Americans behaved them 
 selves with admirable steadiness through 
 out, and some of them showed great dar 
 ing. In the beginning of the action, the 
 flagstaff was shot away ; when Sergeant 
 Jasper, of the grenadiers, immediately 
 leaped over the parapet, and, picking up 
 the flag, which had fallen on the outside 
 upon the beach, fastened it to a sponge 
 staff He then mounted the merlon, and, 
 while the balls from the ships were fall 
 ing fast about him, coolly fixed the staff 
 in its place. Sergeant M Donald was mor 
 tally wounded, but, as he fell, exhorted 
 with his last words his comrades to con 
 tinue steady in the cause of liberty and 
 their country. 
 
 Next morning, all the men-of-war had 
 hauled off and anchored about two miles 
 from the island, with the exception of 
 the Actseon, which remained where she 
 first struck. The garrison began to fire 
 at her, and she returned several shots ; 
 but finally her crew set fire to her, and 
 took to their boats, leaving her colors 
 flying, guns loaded, and all the ammuni 
 tion and stores aboard. A party of Amer 
 icans then put off from the shore, and 
 boarded her These daring fellows, hav 
 ing hauled down the flag, taken posses 
 sion of the ship s bell, and filled their boats 
 with as many sails and stores as they 
 could hold, prepared to return. They, 
 
 however, though the flames were already 
 bursting through the deck and sides of 
 the burning ship, stopped to have a shot 
 at the commodore : so they pointed three 
 of her guns at the Bristol, and fired them, 
 before they took to their boats. They 
 had not been half an hour away, when 
 the fire reaching her magazine, the Ac- 
 tceon was blown up, and nothing left of 
 her but a shattered remnant of her hull. 
 
 The British admiral made no further 
 attempt upon the island. Clinton, how 
 ever, strove again, early in the morning, 
 to land, but was repulsed. 
 
 Colonel Moultrie came in for the chief 
 share of the honors of the victory. Lee, 
 in his despatch, awards great credit to 
 him, and all the officers and men. " I 
 beg leave," he says, "to recommend in 
 the strongest terms, to the Congress, the 
 commanding officer,Colonel Moultrie, and 
 his whole garrison, as brave soldiers and 
 excellent citizens ; nor must I omit at the 
 same time mentioning Colonel Thompson, 
 who, with the South-Carolina rangers and 
 a detachment of the North-Carolina regu 
 lars, repulsed the enemy in two several 
 attempts to make a lodgment at the other* 
 extremity of the island. 
 
 " Our loss, considering the heat and du 
 ration of the fire, was inconsiderable ; we 
 had only ten men killed on the spot and 
 twenty-two wounded; seven of whom 
 lost their limbs, but with their limbs they 
 did not lose their spirits, for they enthu 
 siastically encouraged their comrades nev 
 er to abandon the standard of liberty and 
 their country." 
 
 Lee had never, from his distrust of the 
 raw American troops, been very sanguine 
 
206 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_PATCT n 
 
 of success. He wrote that Charleston 
 was "utterly defenceless/ and he had 
 been very anxious to secure a retreat 
 from Sullivan s island, by means of a 
 bridge of boats connecting it with the 
 mainland at Haddrell s point. During 
 the whole action he kept his men busy 
 at this work ; but he could not get boats 
 enough, and was forced to resort to the 
 expedient of fastening planks upon emp 
 ty hogsheads. This, however, proved 
 ineffectual, and the bridge was never 
 made practicable for the purpose intend 
 ed. Colonel Moultrie had more confi 
 dence in his men, and he knew them bet 
 ter than Lee. " For my part," says Moul 
 trie, " I never was uneasy in not having 
 a retreat, because I never imagined that 
 the enemy could force me to that neces- 
 sity." 
 
 Moultrie did not over-estimate the 
 steady courage and endurance of his 
 men ; but all their good conduct would 
 probably have proved vain, if the three 
 vessels-of-war which Parker had ordered 
 around the western extremity of the isl 
 and had succeeded in getting into posi 
 tion, for they would have poured their 
 broadsides upon a part of the fort which, 
 
 being unfinished, could not have with 
 stood the first cannonade. 
 
 The American colonel was fitly hon 
 ored by an act of the legislature of Caro 
 lina, changing the name of Fort Sullivan 
 to that of Fort Moultrie. Congress, too, 
 voted him, as well as Lee and Thomp 
 son, the thanks of the country. The 
 brave Sergeant Jasper was rewarded on 
 the day after the victory, by Governor 
 Rutledge, who presented him with the 
 sword from his own side. He offered 
 him, moreover, a lieutenant s commission ; 
 but the humble Jasper, who could neither 
 read nor write, refused, saying: "I am 
 not fit to keep officers company ; I am 
 but a sergeant."* 
 
 The British vessels anchored off Lon^ 
 
 o 
 
 island to refit; and such was the dam 
 aged condition of the larger ships, that 
 they were detained a long time in getting 
 ready again for sea. General Clinton and 
 Lord Cornwallis, in the mean 
 while, sailed with the troops, in 
 a fleet of transports, under the escort of 
 the Solebay frigate, bearing the flag of 
 Commodore Parker, and bound for New 
 York. 
 
 * Lossing. 
 
 June 30. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THOMAS MIFFLIN. 
 
 297 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Washington s Troops busy with the Pickaxe and Spade on Long Island. The Bustling Mifflin. His Character. A 
 Military Dandy s Sneer at the Provincials. Takes the "Measure" of the Outward Man. Provincial Jealousies and 
 Quarrels. Washington rebukes the Quarrelsome. Is anxious about the Approach of the Enemy. The British ar 
 rive at Sandy Hook. Washington on the Lookout. Strengthens the Posts on the Hudson. Sir William Howe 
 awaits his Brother s Arrival. Washington expects a Struggle, and appeals to the Patriotism of his Army. 
 
 1776, 
 
 " TRUE soldiers and magnanimous 
 
 citizens must brandish the pickaxe 
 and spade as well as the sword," said Lee ; 
 and the army under Washington at New 
 York was now in full appreciation of this 
 military truth. The men were kept bu 
 sily at work digging, ditching, and in 
 trenching, on Long island, under Greene, 
 and at Kingsbridge, under the ever-active 
 Mifflin. The latter was a " bustler" who, 
 as one of the sufferers reports, " harassed 
 us unnecessarily, and, considering the un 
 avoidable severity of our duty, to the real 
 injury of the health of the troops." The 
 manners of Mifflin " were better adapted 
 to attract popularity than to preserve it. 
 Highly animated in his appearance, and 
 possessing in an eminent degree the tal 
 ent of haranguing a multitude, his ser 
 vices in giving motion to the militia" 
 were acknowledged. " He assumed a lit 
 tle of the veteran from having lain be 
 fore Boston," and was very fond of telling 
 his men that he would bring them into 
 " a scrape." " He was a man of educa 
 tion, ready apprehension, and brilliancy ; 
 had spent some time in Europe, particu 
 larly in France, and was very easy of ac 
 cess, with the manners of genteel life, 
 38 
 
 though occasionally evolving those of 
 the Quaker." 
 
 General THOMAS MIFFLIN, with all his 
 eccentricities, was undoubtedly one of the 
 most useful men of the Revolution. Af 
 ter serving, as we have seen him, at the 
 siege of Boston, as quartermaster-general, 
 with unsparing energy and inexhaustible 
 ingenuity of resource, he was appointed 
 by Congress a brigadier-general, and now, 
 at the early age of thirty-two, has com 
 mand of the forces engaged in the con 
 struction of the works at Fort Washing 
 ton and Kingsbridge. 
 
 The gentlemanly qualifications, and 
 his ease " of access, with the manners of 
 genteel life," if not the higher virtues of 
 Mifflin, were appreciated by the military 
 coxcombs of the day, one of whom* has 
 been very free in his revelations of the 
 graces and want of graces of his comrades 
 while with them engaged in brandishing 
 "the pickaxe and spade" about Fort Wash 
 ington, a duty certainly not very favor 
 able to over-nice appearances for, as oui 
 authority acknowledges, it gave them all 
 the look of "scavengers." He tells us how 
 Colonel Putnam carried home from mar- 
 
 * Graydon. 
 
298 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 ket his own meat, by the way of showing 
 a good example to his officers, and re 
 marks : " But if any aristocratic tenden 
 cies had been really discovered by the 
 colonel among his countrymen, requiring 
 this wholesome example, they must have 
 been of recent origin, and the effect of 
 southern contamination." This fastidious 
 gentleman is especially shocked by the 
 want of nice social discrimination on the 
 part of the New-England officers, and, al 
 though rather unnecessarily delicate in 
 his genteel sensibility, he seems justified 
 in his sneers when colonels were known 
 to make drummers and fifers of their 
 sons, in order to put their pittance of 
 pay into the family purse, and when oth 
 er New-England officers turned their chil 
 dren into waiters.* 
 
 The ridicule of our fine gentleman was 
 greatly moved by the arrival in camp of a 
 body of Connecticut lighkhorse : " These 
 consisted of a considerable number of old- 
 fashioned men probably farmers and 
 heads of families, as they were generally 
 middle-aged, and many of them appa 
 rently beyond the meridian of life. They 
 were truly irregulars ; and whether their 
 clothing, their equipments, or caparisons, 
 were regarded, it would have been diffi 
 cult to have discovered any circumstance 
 of uniformity ; though in the features de 
 rived from local habitation they were 
 one and the same. 
 
 " Instead of carbines and sabres, they 
 generally carried fowling-pieces ; some 
 of them very long, and such as in Penn 
 sylvania are used for shooting ducks. 
 Here and there one, his youthful gar- 
 
 * Thacher. 
 
 ments well saved, appeared in a dingy 
 regimental of scarlet, with a triangular, 
 tarnished, laced hat. In short, so little 
 were they like modern soldiers, in air or 
 costume, that, dropping the necessary 
 number of years, they might have been 
 supposed the identical men who had in 
 part composed Pepperell s army at the 
 taking of Louisburg." 
 
 These men were volunteers, and might 
 have proved fair soldiers, notwithstand 
 ing their " dingy regimentals" and " sorry 
 jades," had they been a little more trac 
 table. Washington discharged them 
 not, however, because they did not look 
 like regular soldiers, but because they 
 were not very ready to submit to become 
 such. "The Connecticut light- horse," 
 says Washington, in his despatch to Con 
 gress, "mentioned in my letter of 
 the llth, notwithstanding their 
 then promise to continue here for the de 
 fence of this place, are now discharged, 
 and about to return home, having per 
 emptorily refused all kind of fatigue-du 
 ty, or even to mount guard, claiming an 
 exemption as troopers. Though their 
 assistance is much needed, and might be 
 of essential service in case of an attack, 
 yet I judged it advisable, on their appli 
 cation and claim of such indulgences, to 
 discharge them ; as granting them would 
 set an example to others, and might pro 
 duce many ill consequences." 
 
 A more sober authority is no less free 
 in his revelations of the manners and con 
 duct of the New-England officers than the 
 fine gentleman we have already quoted. 
 " It was the case," says Gordon, " in di 
 vers instances, that, when a company was 
 
 Jnly 17. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 MILITARY DRESS AND MANNERS. 
 
 299 
 
 forming, the men would choose those for 
 officers who consented to throw their pay 
 into a joint stock with the privates, from 
 which captains, lieutenants, ensigns, ser 
 geants, corporals, with drummers and pri 
 vates, drew equal shares. Can it then be 
 wondered at, however mortifying it may 
 prove, that a captain should be tried and 
 broken for stealing his soldiers blankets, 
 or that another officer should be found 
 shaving his men in the face of distin 
 guished characters ?" 
 
 There is a single exception " to these 
 miserably -constituted bands from New 
 England" made in favor of the regiment 
 of Glover, from Marblehead "There 
 was," says our fastidious military critic, 
 "an appearance of discipline in this corps; 
 the officers seemed to have mixed with 
 the world, and to understand what be 
 longed to their stations. Though defi 
 cient, perhaps, in polish, it possessed an 
 apparent aptitude for the purpose of its 
 institution, and gave a confidence that 
 myriads of its meek and lowly brethren 
 were incompetent to inspire." But even 
 Glover s seems, in the nice eyes of Gray- 
 don, to have a blot ; for in his regiment 
 " there were a number of negroes, which, 
 to persons unaccustomed to such associa 
 tions, had a disagreeable, degrading ef 
 fect." 
 
 Even aristocratic Virginia failed to come 
 up to the high standard of our genteel 
 annalist.* " Neither," he says, " did the 
 fighting department appear to be fash 
 ionable among the gentry of Virginia. 
 It must be admitted that she furnished 
 some gentlemen aids-de-camp and volun- 
 
 * Gray don. 
 
 teers, and afterward corps of cavalry, re 
 spectably officered ; but the serious, drudg 
 ing business of war devolves on the in 
 fantry ; and, in this description of force, 
 she evinced but little brilliancy." He 
 then tells us of a Virginian commander 
 whom he knew, who had " the appearance 
 of a reputable planter," and concedes 
 that "he might have been both patri 
 otic and brave," but adds, " neither him 
 self nor his officers were of the kind that 
 bespoke the elite of their country." 
 
 The general officers even did not es 
 cape the tailor-like scrutiny of Graydon, 
 who says, " The celebrated General Put 
 nam, riding with a hanger belted across 
 his brawny shoulders, over a waistcoat 
 without sleeves (his summer costume), 
 was deemed much fitter to head a band of 
 sicklemen or ditchers than musketeers." 
 General Greene, too, did not " shine with 
 all the eclat" that might have been de 
 sired by the army coxcombs. He also 
 doubtless stripped his " brawny shoul 
 ders" to the work along with " Old Put." 
 
 The " city-bred Marylander," however, 
 seems to have been faultless, for " he was 
 distinguished by the most fashionably- 
 cut coat, the most macaroni cocked hat, 
 and hottest blood in the Union." One 
 battalion," that of Smallwood, appears to 
 have been particularly worthy of admi 
 ration, for " its officers exhibited a mar 
 tial appearance, by a uniform of scarlet 
 and buff." 
 
 There was something, however, more 
 serious than these small distinctions of 
 dress and manners between the various 
 officers and men. Provincial jealousies 
 often arose, and, although starting from 
 
300 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 the most trifling causes, led to the most 
 serious results. " A singular kind of riot," 
 says Thacher, " took place in our bar 
 racks last evening, attended by some un 
 pleasant consequences. Colonel A 
 
 W , of Massachusetts, made choice of 
 
 his two sons, who were soldiers in his 
 regiment, to discharge the menial duties 
 of waiters ; and one of them, having been 
 brought up a shoemaker, the colonel was 
 so inconsiderate as to allow to work on 
 his bench in the same room with himself. 
 The ridiculous conduct has for some time 
 drawn on the good old man the contempt 
 uous sneers of the gentlemen-officers, es 
 pecially those from Pennsylvania. Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel C , of Wayne s regi 
 ment, being warmed with wine, took on 
 himself the task of reprehending the 
 * Yankee colonel for thus degrading his 
 rank. With this view, he rushed into the 
 room in the evening, and soon despatched 
 the shoemaker s bench; after which he 
 made an assault on the colonel s person, 
 and bruised him severely. The noise and 
 confusion soon collected a number of offi 
 cers and soldiers, and it was a consider 
 able time before the rioters could be 
 quelled. Some of the soldiers actually 
 took to their arms and dared the Yankees, 
 and then proceeded to the extremity of 
 firing their guns. About thirty or forty 
 rounds were aimed at the soldiers of our 
 regiment, who were driven from their 
 huts and barracks, and several of them 
 were seriously wounded." A reconcilia 
 tion ensued, but it only added to the dis- 
 reputableness of the affair. 
 
 " It was in the power of Colonel W ," 
 
 adds Thacher, " and in fact it was his du 
 
 ty, to bring the audacious offenders to 
 exemplary punishment ; but, as if to com 
 plete the disgrace of the transaction, Colo 
 nel C sent some soldiers into the 
 
 woods to shoot a fat bear, with which he 
 made an entertainment, and invited Colo 
 nel W- - and his officers to partake of 
 it ; this effected a reconciliation, and Colo 
 nel W - was induced to overlook the 
 high-handed assault on his own person 
 and on the lives of his soldiers." At the 
 close, Thacher puts in a good word for 
 his commander and fellow-provincial, say 
 ing, " Our colonel is a serious, good man, 
 but is more conversant with the econo 
 my of domestic life than the etiquette 
 practised in camp." This occurred in 
 Gates s army, at the North. 
 
 In New York, the troops seem to have 
 been no less jealous of, and quarrelsome 
 with, each other; for Washington finds 
 it necessary to issue this order : 
 " 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 as 
 sist 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 agree 
 ment with each other ; that the provinces 
 
 August 1. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 GENERAL HOWE AT NEW YORK. 
 
 301 
 
 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 lib 
 erty of our country, ought to be our only 
 emulation ; and he will be the best sol 
 dier and the best patriot who contributes 
 most to this glorious work, whatever his 
 station or from whatever part of the con 
 tinent he may come. 
 
 "Let all distinctions of nations, coun 
 tries, and provinces, therefore be lost in 
 the generous contest who shall behave 
 with the most courage against the ene 
 my, and the most kindness and good hu 
 mor to each other. 
 
 " If there be any officers or soldiers so 
 lost to virtue and 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." 
 
 Washington was naturally anxious,with 
 his army as yet only reinforced by a small 
 portion of the militia levied by Congress, 
 and with considerable distrust of the good 
 conduct of some of his troops, whose oc 
 casional disorderly behavior may be in 
 ferred from the facts which we have al 
 ready stated. Although we have some 
 what anticipated events for the sake of 
 illustration, whatever we have said, in re 
 gard to the conduct of both officers and 
 men, will apply to the earlier as well as 
 the later period. 
 
 When, therefore, Washington learns, on 
 the 28th of June, that General Howe had, 
 on the 9th, left Halifax with a fleet of 
 
 one hundred and thirty sail, bound to 
 Sandy Hook, it is not surprising that he 
 should write : " I could wish General 
 Howe and his armament not to arrive 
 yet, as no more than a thousand militia 
 have come in, and our whole force, inclu 
 ding the troops at all the detached posts, 
 and on board the armed vessels, which 
 are comprehended in our returns, is but 
 small and inconsiderable, when compared 
 with the extensive lines they are to de 
 fend, and most probably the army that 
 he brings." 
 
 Washington, seldom perturbed, and 
 never more calm than in danger, was 
 still fully conscious of the difficulties of 
 his position. " We expect a bloody sum 
 mer in New York," he wrote to his broth 
 er, " 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." Again Wash 
 ington writes to Schuyler : " Our , 
 
 ... , June 28, 
 most vigorous exertions will be 
 
 required in every instance. I am con 
 vinced our enemies will strain every 
 nerve against us this campaign, and try 
 to injure us wherever we may be unpro 
 vided." 
 
 On that day (28th of June) four Brit- 
 ish ships on one of which, the Grey 
 hound, was General Howe came to an 
 chor in the bay of New York. On the 
 29th, the officer appointed to keep a look 
 out on Staten island sent an express to 
 Washington, with the word that forty- 
 five more vessels had arrived off Sandy 
 
302 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Hook. " I am hopeful," writes Washing 
 ton on the occasion, "before they are 
 prepared to attack, that I shall get some 
 
 reinforcements Be that as it may," he 
 
 resolutely adds, " I shall attempt to make 
 the best disposition I can of our troops, 
 in order to give them a proper reception, 
 and prevent the ruin and destruction 
 they are meditating against us." 
 
 It was supposed that Howe would im 
 mediately begin an attack. Washington 
 accordingly was active in preparation, 
 and strenuously urged on the arrival of 
 the expected militia from the neighbor 
 ing provinces. His old Virginia friend, 
 Doctor (now General) Mercer, was ap 
 pointed to the command of the "flying 
 camp," and kept busy at Amboy, in con 
 junction with General Livingston, of New 
 Jersey, in recruiting and keeping a watch 
 upon the enemy. As it was thought 
 probable that the British would force 
 their way up the Hudson, with the view 
 of opening a communication with Carle- 
 ton s victorious forces at the North, Wash 
 ington directed his attention especially 
 to the strengthening of his posts along 
 the banks of that river. 
 
 Great vigilance was urged upon the 
 commanders of all the forts, and Mifflin 
 " the bustler" was especially on the alert 
 at Kingsbridge and Fort Washington. 
 His lines were manned every morning 
 before daylight, and his ranks formed for 
 action. The men were led to believe, by 
 the confident assertions of their com 
 mander, that the enemy had already 
 landed in the neighborhood. One of the 
 officers, harassed by these early risings 
 and frequent calls to duty, finally came 
 
 to the conclusion that the general was 
 merely crying " Wolf !" and that it was 
 a contrivance of that "bustler" Mifflin 
 to inure his troops to alarms and render 
 them alert. 
 
 Although at the head of ten thousand 
 men, General Howe was not yet prepared 
 to make a demonstration. He was await 
 ing the arrival of his brother, Admiral 
 Lord Howe, with a formidable fleet, hav 
 ing on board a large reinforcement of 
 those hated Hessians. Washington be 
 came aware of Howe s purpose, and, as 
 the admiral was hourly expected, strove 
 to prepare his army for the formidable en 
 counter which awaited them. He issued 
 the following order, which, in earnestness 
 of patriotic feeling and force of expres 
 sion has never been surpassed by the 
 most ardent appeals to men to fight for 
 their freedom: 
 
 " The time is now near at hand, which 
 must probably determine whether Amer 
 icans are to be freemen or slaves ; wheth 
 er they are to have any prop 
 erty they can call their own? 
 whether their houses and farms are to 
 be pillaged and destroyed, and they con 
 signed to a state of wretchedness, from 
 which no human efforts will probably de 
 liver them. 
 
 " The fate of unborn millions will now 
 depend, under God, on the courage and 
 conduct of this army. Our cruel and un 
 relenting enemy leaves us no choice but 
 a brave resistance or the most abject sub 
 mission. This is all that we can expect. 
 We have, therefore, to resolve to conquer 
 or die. Our own country s honor calls 
 upon us for a vigorous and manly exer- 
 
 July 2, 
 
JIEVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE GREATEST QUESTION. 
 
 303 
 
 tion ; and if we now shamefully fail, we 
 shall become infamous to the whole world. 
 " Let us rely upon the goodness of the 
 cause, and the aid of the Supreme Being, 
 in whose hands victory is, to animate and 
 encourage us to great and noble actions. 
 The eyes of all our countrymen are now 
 upon us, and we shall have their blessings 
 and praises, if happily we are the instru 
 ments of saving them from the tyranny 
 meditated against them. Let us animate 
 and encourage each other, and show the 
 whole world that a freeman contending 
 for liberty on his own ground is superior 
 to any slavish mercenary on earth. 
 
 " The general recommends to the offi 
 cers great coolness in time of action, and 
 to the soldiers a strict attention and obe 
 dience, with a becoming firmness and 
 spirit. Any officer or soldier, or any par 
 ticular corps, distinguishing itself by any 
 acts of bravery and courage, will assu 
 redly meet with notice and rewards ; and 
 on the other hand, those who behave ill 
 will as certainly be exposed and punished ; 
 the general being resolved, as well for 
 the honor and safety of the country as 
 of the army, to show no favor to such as 
 refuse or neglect to do their duty at so 
 important a crisis." 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Declaration of Independence. The Sentiment of the Country. "Common Sense." Thomas Paine. His Life, Charac 
 ter, and Services. The Reception of the " Declaration" at Philadelphia. In the Army. By the Citizens of New 
 York. Destruction of the Statue of George III. Washington rebukes the Riotous Inhabitants of New York. Gen 
 eral Howe in High Spirits. The Rose and Phoenix again up the Hudson. Arrival of Lord Howe. His Life and 
 Character. Commissioners to treat. Proclamation. Franklin and Lord Howe. Proof against Seduction. A Flag. 
 " George Washington, Esquire, &c., &c., &c." The Superscription not acknowledged. The British General, taught 
 better, writes " General Washington." 
 
 1776, 
 
 " THE greatest question ever de 
 bated in America, and as great as 
 ever was or ever will be debated among 
 men," as John Adams called it, was de 
 cided by this resolution of Congress on 
 the 2d day of July, 1776: "THAT THESE 
 UNITED COLONIES ARE, AND OF RIGHT OUGHT 
 TO BE, FREE AND INDEPENDENT STATES." 
 
 The Declaration of Independence was 
 not, however, adopted until the 4th of 
 July, an event which is now so wrought 
 into the heart of every American, that it 
 is superfluous for the historian to record 
 the day or the year of its occurrence. 
 
 This is an historical fact which requires 
 no book for its record ; it is so early 
 learned by every child of America, that 
 his knowledge of it seems an instinct of 
 his nature. 
 
 When this momentous act was passed, 
 the people were not unprepared for it. 
 Many of the provinces had already, by 
 vote in their assemblies, resolved upon 
 independence from Great Britain; and 
 North Carolina, we believe, claims not 
 only to have anticipated the act, but even 
 the words of the declaration. 
 
 By the thoughtful men of the country 
 
304 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 the possibility and even the necessity and 
 desirableness of separation from Great 
 Britain, had long been considered. As 
 early as November, 1774, Josiah Quincy 
 wrote : " Doctor Franklin is an American 
 in heart and soul. His ideas are not con 
 tracted within the narrow limits of ex 
 emption from taxes, but are extended on 
 the broad scale of total emancipation. 
 He is explicit and bold on the subject." 
 Others capable of comprehensive views 
 of national policy had undoubtedly seen 
 at an early period, in common with Ben 
 jamin Franklin, the ultimate result of the 
 difficulties between the colonies and the 
 mother-country. 
 
 It was long, however, before the sen 
 timent of the country was fully moulded 
 to the definite idea of independence. 
 This was a result which might have 
 crowned with honor the noble endeavors 
 of the highest : it was, however, reserved 
 as a triumph for the humble stayrnaker 
 of Thetford. All agree in attributing to 
 Thomas Paine the preparation of the pop 
 ular mind for independent government. 
 " Common Sense," as its title promised, 
 was a direct appeal to the general intelli 
 gence of the people. Clear, forcible, and 
 familiar in style, straightforward in ar 
 gument, and free from all theoretical 
 abstractions and subtleties, this famous 
 work was read and understood by all. 
 "That celebrated pamphlet," Burke called 
 it, " which prepared the minds of the peo 
 ple for independence." 
 
 "Common Sense" circulated every 
 where throughout the provinces. It was 
 read by the Virginian planter while loun 
 ging beneath his portico on the banks of 
 
 the Potomac, and by the New-England 
 farmer at his fireside during the long 
 nights of winter. The soldier fired anew 
 with martial spirit as, amid the stir and 
 noise of war, he glanced at its pages of 
 stirring eloquence ; and the statesman 
 learned w T isdom from its clear exposition 
 of political rights and principles. 
 
 THOMAS PAINE was born at Thetford, in 
 the county of Norfolk, England, in the 
 year 1737. His parents, who were Qua 
 kers, were reputable townspeople, and 
 brought up their son in accordance with 
 their own position. He was apprenticed 
 to a staymaker in his own town, but, with 
 a fondness for books, and some early suc 
 cess as a writer, he tired of his trade, and 
 became subsequently a schoolmaster. By 
 means of some small patronage, Paine 
 succeeded in getting the appointment of 
 an exciseman, and while thus occupied 
 wrote a pamphlet upon a subject con 
 nected with his business. It was this 
 early effort which is said to have first at 
 tracted the notice of Franklin, then in 
 London, to the author. Paine was poor, 
 and desirous of bettering his condition ; 
 and was thus induced by Franklin to try 
 his fortune in America. He settled, on 
 his arrival, in Philadelphia, where he be 
 came the editor of a journal, and soon 
 attracted notice by the vigor of his politi 
 cal articles. In January, 1776, he pub 
 lished his " Common Sense ;" and its in 
 fluence was so great, that it almost justi 
 fied the remark that " Paine did as much 
 for the American cause by his pen as 
 Washington by his sword." 
 
 The announcement of the DECLARATION 
 OF INDEPENDENCE was received everywhere 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE 
 
 305 
 
 by the patriots with exulting joy. In 
 Philadelphia, thousands of the citizens, 
 expectant of the event, gathered in the 
 streets, and thronged about the entrance 
 of the Hall of Independence. The bell 
 man was posted in the tower above, and 
 a messenger at the doors of the hall with 
 in which the representatives of America 
 were assembled. The vote passed ; the 
 result was declared ; a shout of enthusi 
 asm followed ; the bell rang vigorously ; 
 and the crowds without caught up the 
 joyful sounds, and re-echoed them with 
 loud hurrahs. That bell, which first pro 
 claimed the news to the people of Phila 
 delphia, had been wrought in London 
 twenty-three years before, and upon it 
 prophetically inscribed these words from 
 the Bible : " Proclaim liberty throughout 
 all the land, unto all the inhabitants there 
 of." 
 
 Washington, on receiving from Con 
 gress the " Declaration," ordered it to be 
 proclaimed before all the army, 
 accompanying his order with the 
 expression of the hope " that this impor 
 tant 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 de 
 pend, 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 coun- 
 try." 
 
 Washington, accompanied by his staff, 
 
 was present himself at the reading of the 
 
 declaration to the brigade encamped on 
 
 the common, or the park, as it is now 
 
 39 
 
 July 9. 
 
 called, in New York. The ranks w r ere 
 formed into a hollow square, and Wash 
 ington placed himself in the centre on 
 horseback, while one of his aids read out 
 with a full voice each word of the famous 
 document. The soldiers, and people gath 
 ered about, shouted at the conclusion 
 with great spirit. 
 
 Graydon, who added to his other arti 
 ficial accomplishments that of showing a 
 genteel contempt for a sensation, acknowl 
 edges that, " If it [the declaration] was 
 not embraced w r ith all the enthusiasm 
 that has been ascribed to the event, it 
 was at least hailed with acclamations, as 
 no doubt any other act of Congress, not 
 flagrantly improper, would at that time 
 have been The propriety of the meas 
 ure," he adds, " had been little canvassed 
 among us ; and perhaps it was to our hon 
 or that we were so little of politicians. 
 A predilection for republicanism, it is 
 true, had not reached the army, at least 
 the Pennsylvania line [to which Graydon 
 himself belonged] ; but as an attempt to 
 negotiate, in our unorganized situation, 
 would probably have divided and ruined 
 us, the step was considered wise, although 
 a passage of the Rubicon, and calculated 
 to close the door to accommodation. Be 
 ing looked upon as unavoidable, if resist 
 ance was to be persisted in, it was ap 
 proved ; and produced no resignation 
 among the officers that I am aware of, 
 except that of Lieutenant-Colonel Wil 
 liam Allen. He called at our camp, on 
 his way to Philadelphia, where he ap 
 peared somewhat surprised and mortified 
 that his example had no followers." 
 
 The citizen-patriots of New York did 
 
306 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 not receive the " Declaration" as coolly 
 as Graydon s comrades. The crowd, af 
 ter hearing the document read on the 
 common, rushed tumultuously to the 
 " Bowling-Green," and pulled down the 
 equestrian statue of King George III.. 
 which stood there. The royal effigy w T as 
 of lead, but had a coating of gilt. When 
 it was torn down, it was broken into 
 pieces ; and a faithful annalist records 
 that most of them were sent to Weath- 
 ersfield, in Connecticut, where Governor 
 Wolcott s family of two daughters and a 
 son patriotically melted them into " forty- 
 two thousand bullets."* 
 
 Washington, finding that some of his 
 soldiers had taken part in this act, which 
 partook too much of a riotous character 
 to accord with his views of discipline, cen 
 sured his men in the order of the day, 
 and, while commending the newly-ap 
 pointed chaplain to their reverential re 
 gard, concluded with this general advice 
 to the army in regard to their conduct : 
 " The blessing and protection of Heaven 
 are at all times necessary, but especially 
 so in times of public distress and danger. 
 The general hopes and trusts that every 
 officer and rnon will endeavor so to live 
 and act as becomes a Christian soldier, 
 defending the dearest rights and liberties 
 of his country." 
 
 General Howe seems to have been 
 much encouraged on his arrival at Staten 
 island, by the cheering aspect and liberal 
 promises of his tory friends. " I have the 
 satisfaction," he writes to Lord George 
 Germain, " to inform your lordship that 
 
 * After the destruction of the statue of George III., he 
 was called in New York, says Walpole, " the late king." 
 
 there is great reason to expect 
 
 u i ^^-11, 
 
 a numerous body of the inhab 
 itants to join the army from the prov 
 inces of New York, the Jerseys, and Con 
 necticut, who in this time of universal 
 apprehension only wait for opportunities 
 to give proofs of their loyalty and zeal 
 for government. Sixty men caine over 
 a few days ago with a few arms from the 
 neighborhood of Shrewsbury, in Jersey, 
 who are all desirous to serve ; and I un 
 derstand there are five hundred more in 
 that quarter ready to follow their exam 
 ple. This disposition among the people 
 makes me impatient for the arrival of 
 Lord Howe, concluding the powers with 
 which he is furnished will have the best 
 effect at this critical time ; but I am still 
 of the opinion that peace will not be re 
 stored in America until the rebel army 
 is defeated." 
 
 The provincial Congress of New York, 
 having changed its name, in accordance 
 with the Declaration of Independence, to 
 that of the " Convention of the Represen 
 tatives of the STATE of New York," had 
 appointed a secret committee to sit in 
 the city and counteract the machinations 
 of the royalists, upon which Howe was so 
 confidently relying. Persons of known 
 disaffection and enmity to the cause of 
 America were thus ferreted out and sent 
 away to the jail at Litchfield, Connecticut, 
 and elsewhere. These measures forced 
 such men as the Robertsons and Delan- 
 ceys to join the enemy openly, and com 
 pelled some more timid partisans either 
 to forego all active hostility or to give in 
 their adhesion to the American cause. 
 
 The enemy s force continued to gather 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 COMMOTION UP THE HUDSON. 
 
 307 
 
 July 12, 
 
 daily. On the llth of July, Washington 
 
 writes : " General Howe s fleet from Hali 
 fax has arrived, in number about one hun 
 dred and thirty sail. His army is between 
 nine and ten thousand, being joined by 
 some of the regiments from the West In 
 dies, and having fallen in with part of the 
 Highland troops in his passage. He has 
 landed his men on Staten island, which 
 they mean to secure, and is in daily ex 
 pectation of the arrival of Lord Howe, 
 with one hundred and fifty ships, and a 
 large and powerful reinforcement. This 
 we have from four prisoners who fell into 
 our hands, and some deserters. They 
 add that nothing will be attempted until 
 his arrival." 
 
 Next day, however, the enemy 
 did something, which, although 
 trifling in itself, produced a great com 
 motion. Early in the afternoon, two of 
 the British ships-of-war, the Rose and the 
 Phoenix (one of forty and the other of 
 twenty guns), with three tenders, weighed 
 anchor, and with a brisk and favorable 
 breeze sailed up the North river with the 
 flood-tide. The American batteries along 
 the city and the Jersey shore, and the 
 forts on the banks of the Hudson, kept up 
 a heavy and incessant cannonade, which 
 was returned by the ships as they passed 
 by, but without much effect on either 
 side. Even Fort Washington, with all 
 its formidable preparation, proved of no 
 avail. It seems to have been so placed, 
 that it could neither do nor receive an 
 injury. "We were too high for their 
 guns," says an officer who was present, 
 " to be brought to bear upon us with any 
 certainty, though one ball was thrown 
 
 into the fort. Our elevated situation was 
 nearly as unfavorable for the success of 
 our fire upon them." 
 
 The men-of-war, it is true, had been 
 guarded by sand-bags spread over the 
 decks and raised along the bulwarks, so 
 as to protect them against the American 
 riflemen ; while they glided by so rapid 
 ly, with the wind and tide in their favor, 
 that it was difficult to point a cannon at 
 them with precision. Their rigging, how 
 ever, was somew r hat damaged, and several 
 shots touched their hulls. Having run 
 the gauntlet of all the batteries and forts, 
 the ships finally came to anchor about 
 forty miles up the river, in the middle of 
 that broad part of the Hudson called Ha- 
 verstraw bay, where they were out of 
 reach of any shot from either bank. 
 
 Washington expected that this move 
 ment of the two ships would be immedi 
 ately followed by others, with the view 
 of landing and seizing the passes in the 
 Highlands. He accordingly sent an ex 
 press at once to Brigadier-General George 
 Clinton, who commanded the New-York 
 militia on Hudson river, with orders to 
 him to call out instantly as many men 
 as he could, and post them in such a way 
 as to prevent, if possible, the supposed 
 object of the enemy. 
 
 Clinton, however, had anticipated these 
 orders, having been notified of the ap 
 proach of danger by a signal-gun from 
 his brother, who, as colonel, was in com 
 mand of Fort Constitution below, and by 
 the exaggerated reports of the captains 
 of some sloops who came up the river 
 with the story that New York was at 
 tacked. They had seen and heard the 
 
308 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 firing in the distance between the forts 
 and the Rose and Phoenix, and, putting 
 on all sail, had hastened away with the 
 alarming intelligence of a general attack. 
 Clinton accordingly had ordered out three 
 regiments of militia, one of which he sta 
 tioned at Fort Constitution, opposite West 
 Point ; another at Fort Montgomery be 
 low, under his own immediate command ; 
 and the third at Newburg, beyond these 
 points. He also had sent word to the 
 masters of all the river-craft which could 
 be reached, to bring their vessels and an 
 chor them ofFFort Montgomery, that they 
 might be ready to stretch across the nar 
 rowest part of the Hudson there, as a bar 
 rier, and to be set fire to in case the en 
 emy s ships attempted to break through 
 them. 
 
 The Rose and Phoenix were not imme 
 diately followed by any other ships, and, 
 having anchored, remained quietly, while 
 their boats were sent out daily to take 
 soundings. The people, however, on the 
 Hudson, fretted greatly at their presence, 
 and watched every opportunity to harass 
 and to drive them from the river. 
 
 Toward evening, o,n the same 
 day that the Rose and Phoenix 
 sailed up, several ships arrived from sea 
 and entered the narrows. One of these 
 had a St. George s flag flying from her 
 foretopmast-head, and was saluted as she 
 came in with full volleys from the vessels 
 and the batteries at Staten island. This 
 was the Eagle, which bore the admiral, 
 Lord Howe. 
 
 RICHARD (Earl) HOWE was born in 1725, 
 and entered the navy as a midshipman 
 at the age of fourteen. By merit, aided 
 
 July 12, 
 
 by a powerful patronage, he passed rap 
 idly through the grades of lieutenant, 
 captain, and rear-admiral ; and now, on 
 being sent to America, was promoted to 
 the rank of vice-admiral of the blue. On 
 the death of his brother, Lord Howe (who 
 fell at Ticonderoga in 1 758), he succeeded 
 to the peerage. The admiral, like the 
 general, had a tall and well-proportioned 
 figure, but his face was dark and stern 
 in expression. His manners, too, were 
 reserved, and he was thought to be some 
 what haughty in disposition. He was a 
 brave and skilful officer, and, unlike the 
 general, active and indefatigable in busi 
 ness. 
 
 The two brothers had been appointed 
 by Parliament commissioners for resto 
 ring peace ; and accordingly, as soon as 
 Lord How r e arrived, he drew up, jointly 
 with the general, a proclamation. This 
 document promised pardon to those who, 
 having forsaken their allegiance to the 
 crown in the time of excitement and trou 
 ble, would return to their duty. It also 
 offered rewards to those who should aid 
 in the restoration of public tranquillity. 
 The paper was then sent to Franklin, the 
 colonial governor of New Jersey, with the 
 request to circulate it as freely as possi 
 ble among the people. A copy was ob 
 tained by General Mercer, in command 
 of the flying camp at Amboy, and for 
 warded by him to Washington, who thus 
 spoke of it in his despatch to the presi 
 dent of Congress : 
 
 " When the letter and declaration, from 
 
 Lord Howe to Mr. Franklin and 
 
 July 22, 
 
 the other late governors, come 
 
 to be published, I should suppose the 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 MR. WASHINGTON. 
 
 warmest advocate for dependence on the 
 British crown must be silent, and be con 
 vinced, beyond all possibility of doubt, 
 that all that has been said about the com 
 missioners was illusory, and calculated ex 
 pressly to deceive and put off their guard 
 not only the good people of our own coun 
 try, but those of the English nation that 
 were averse to the proceedings of the 
 king and ministry." 
 
 Lord Howe is supposed to have sin 
 cerely desired peace, and greatly to have 
 regretted that his arrival had been de 
 layed until after the Declaration of Inde 
 pendence. He is known to have been 
 early interested in the difficulties between 
 the home government and the colonies ; 
 and it is related that, when Franklin was 
 in London, he was invited by his lord 
 ship to dinner, with the view of extort 
 ing from him some information in refer 
 ence to the probable measures of the 
 American leaders. Lord Howe was ably 
 seconded on this occasion by the diplom 
 acy of his sister. While the former freely 
 circulated the Madeira, the latter brought 
 to play upon the philosopher all the en 
 ticements of her seductive graces. But 
 Franklin s sober reason w r as proof against 
 the intoxication of either the one or the 
 other; and the domestic conspiracy of 
 Lord and Miss Howe was defeated by 
 the strength of head and steadiness of 
 principle of the American patriot. 
 
 On the second day of Lord 
 Howe s arrival in the bay, about 
 three o clock in the afternoon, word was 
 brought to Washington that a flag had 
 come up from his lordship, and was now 
 detained by two of the American whale- 
 
 July 14, 
 
 boats on guard a few miles from the city. 
 Washington immediately convened such 
 of the general officers as were not upon 
 other duty, and asked their opinion as to 
 whether he ought to receive any letter 
 directed to him as a private gentleman. 
 Finding that they agreed with his own 
 view, that he should not, he sent Colonel 
 Reed (his former secretary, now adjutant- 
 general) down to meet the flag, and to 
 act accordingly. Reed went down as or 
 dered ; and, after passing the usual civili 
 ties, the British officer informed him that 
 he had a letter from Lord Howe to Mr. 
 Washington, which he showed, with the 
 address, " To George Washington, Esquire" 
 Colonel Reed replied that there was no 
 such person in the army, and that a let 
 ter intended for the general could not be 
 received under such a direction. 
 
 The officer expressed great concern, 
 and, stating that it was a letter rather of 
 a civil than a military nature, declared 
 that Lord Howe regretted that he had 
 not arrived sooner, since he had great 
 powers. The anxiety on the part of the 
 officer to have the letter received was 
 very apparent, although he disclaimed 
 all knowledge of its contents. Colonel 
 Reed, however, had received positive or 
 ders, and accordingly took his leave. Al 
 ter the two had separated and got some 
 distance away from each other, the officer 
 with the flag put about again with his 
 boat, and asked how General but, catch 
 ing himself, Mr. Washington, would wish 
 to be addressed.* Colonel Reed answered 
 that the general s station was well known, 
 and they could not be at a loss how to 
 
 * Irving. 
 
310 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 direct to him. He added, moreover, that 
 a proper address would obviate all diffi 
 culty of communication, as Lord Howe 
 himself must be aware, since this matter 
 had already been discussed in the course 
 of the previous year. 
 
 " I would not," says Washington, com 
 menting upon this affair, " upon any oc 
 casion sacrifice essentials to punctilio ; 
 but in this instance, the opinion of oth 
 ers concurring with my own, I deemed 
 it a duty to my country and my appoint 
 ment to insist upon that respect which, 
 in any other than a public view, I would 
 willingly have waved." Congress showed 
 its approval of his conduct in this matter 
 by the resolution " That G eneral Washing 
 ton, in refusing to receive a letter said to 
 be sent from Lord Howe, and addressed 
 to George Washington, Esquire] acted with 
 a dignity becoming his station." 
 
 Notwithstanding Lord Howe s want of 
 success, his brother the general attempt 
 ed the same manoeuvre, and sent a flag- 
 addressed to " George Washington, Esquire" 
 with the addition of " etc., &c., &c" It 
 was, of course, not received. A few days 
 subsequently, Ho we accordingly hit upon 
 another expedient. He sent Lieutenant 
 Colonel Patterson, the British adjutant- 
 general, with a flag. 
 
 This dignified messenger was 
 met with the usual formalities, 
 and, as he was sent officially by General 
 Howe to the American commander-in- 
 chief, was by the order of Washington 
 conducted ashore and admitted into his 
 presence. The usual preliminary compli 
 ments having passed, during which the 
 British colonel addressed Washington by 
 
 July 20, 
 
 the title of excellency, as he did through 
 out the interview, business began. 
 
 Colonel Patterson commenced by say 
 ing that General Howe much regretted 
 the difficulties which had arisen in re 
 spect to the letter. He then justified the 
 propriety of the address, on the ground 
 that it was usual with embassadors and 
 plenipotentiaries, when disputes or diffi 
 culties of rank arose. The colonel then 
 reminded Washington that he had, du 
 ring the previous summer, sent a letter 
 to General Howe with the address, " To 
 the Honorable William Hoive, Esquire." Lord 
 Howe and General Howe, he continued, 
 did not mean to derogate from the re 
 spect or rank of General Washington, 
 whose person and character they held in 
 the highest esteem ; and, as for the ad 
 dress upon the letter, the " &c., &c., &c.," 
 implied everything which ought to fol 
 low. The colonel here produced a letter, 
 which, however, he did not directly offer 
 to General Washington, but, remarking 
 that it was the same as had been already 
 presented, laid it upon the table, where 
 the address, " To George Washington, Es 
 quire, &c., &c., &c.," could be readily seen. 
 
 Washington declined to receive it, and 
 remarked that a communication directed 
 to a person in his public character should 
 have some indication of his station, other 
 wise it would appear a mere private let 
 ter. As for the " &c., &c., &c.," Washing 
 ton said it was true they implied every 
 thing, but they also implied anything. 
 In regard to the letter which had been 
 addressed to General Howe without men 
 tion of his rank, that had been sent, Wash 
 ington exDlained, in answer to one simi- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE MATTER OF TITLES. 
 
 311 
 
 larly addressed to himself, and which had 
 only been received because the officer on 
 duty had not refused it when first pre 
 sented. Washington now having firmly 
 declared that he should decline to receive 
 any letter directed to him as a private 
 person, when it related to his public sta 
 tion, Colonel Patterson said that General 
 Howe would not urge his delicacy fur 
 ther, and repeated his assertion that no 
 failure of respect was intended. 
 
 Patterson then, saying that he w r ould 
 endeavor as well as he could to recollect 
 General Howe s views, briefly gave them, 
 and on finishing took a paper out of his 
 pocket, and, having glanced over it for a 
 moment, remarked that he had expressed 
 nearly the words. A conversation now 
 ensued in regard to the treatment of pris 
 oners; and finally Colonel Patterson al 
 luded to the object of the mission of Lord 
 and General Howe, stating that the good 
 ness and benevolence of the king had in 
 duced him to appoint these two gentle 
 men his commissioners to accommodate 
 the unhappy dispute with the colonies ; 
 that they had great powers, and would 
 derive the greatest pleasure from effect 
 ing an accommodation ; and that he ( Colo 
 nel Patterson) wished to have his visit 
 considered as making the first advance 
 toward this object. 
 
 Washington replied that he was not 
 vested with any powers on this subject 
 by those from whom he derived his au 
 thority; but, from what had appeared, 
 Lord and General Howe were only to 
 grant pardons, and that those who had 
 committed no fault wanted no pardon. 
 " We are only defending," added Wash 
 
 ington, " what we deem our indisputable 
 rights." To which Colonel Patterson an 
 swered, " That would open a very wide 
 field for argument." 
 
 The greatest courtesy prevailed during 
 the conference, and at its close Colonel 
 Patterson strongly expressed his acknowl 
 edgments that the usual practice of blind 
 folding had been dispensed with in his 
 case. Washington pressed him to par 
 take of a collation which had been pro 
 vided, but " he politely declined, alleging 
 his late breakfast." After staying a few 
 moments to be introduced to the general 
 officers, he took leave. Colonel Reed 
 and one of Washington s aids-de-camp ac 
 companied him in the president s barge 
 to his own boat, which awaited him some 
 four miles below the city, where they 
 separated in the best good nature, after a 
 lively chat during their short fellowship. 
 
 " This interview," wrote General Howe 
 to Lord George Germain, " was more po 
 lite than interesting. However, it in 
 duced me to change my superscription 
 for the attainment of an end so desirable ; 
 and in this view I flatter myself it will 
 not be disapproved." Washington w r as 
 subsequently always addressed by the 
 title of " general." Lord Howe, how r ever, 
 though evidently desirous from the be 
 ginning of being courteous in this par 
 ticular, hesitated for fear of disapproval 
 on the part of the British ministry, whose 
 insolent tyranny hesitated at no insult, 
 however gross. An interview with Lord 
 Howe, ten days after the visit of Colonel 
 Patterson, showed that his lordship was 
 still haggling about this matter of titles. 
 
 Colonel Palfrey, paymaster-general of 
 
312 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 July 30, 
 
 the army, was sent, together with anoth 
 er officer, on board the Eagle, 
 Lord Howe s ship, to negotiate 
 an exchange of prisoners. The colonel 
 gave this account of his visit, in a letter 
 to Congress : " We were treated with the 
 utmost politeness and civility by Lord 
 Howe. He spoke with the highest re 
 spect of General Washington, and lament 
 ed the nice distinctions which, he said, 
 prevented his addressing him by letter ; 
 and said he wished to convey his senti 
 ments to him in any mode of address 
 that might prevent his being blamed by 
 the king his master. 
 
 " In all his discourse he called him Gen 
 eral Washington, and frequently said the 
 states of America. He said the Congress 
 had greatly hurt his feelings by remind 
 ing him, in one of their publications, of 
 the esteem and respect they had for the 
 memory of his brother, and drawing by 
 manifest inference a contrast between 
 the survivors and the deceased ; that no 
 
 man could feel more sensibly the respect 
 shown to their family than his lordship 
 and the general ; that they should always 
 esteem America for it, and particularly 
 Massachusetts Bay ; and added, I hope 
 America will one day or other be con 
 vinced that, in our affection for that coun 
 try, we also are HOWES. His lordship, 
 when speaking of his brother, was great 
 ly affected, and I could perceive a tear 
 standing in his eye. 
 
 " He hinted an inclination that I should 
 take the letter to General Washington, 
 with the addition of l &c., &c., &c., which 
 he said w r ould imply everything that we 
 could desire, and at the same time save 
 him from censure. I gave him to under 
 stand that, as it had been before refused 
 under the same circumstances,! could not 
 with propriety receive it, especially as it 
 was against the express direction of Con 
 gress. When we parted, he desired his 
 compliments to General Washington." :i: 
 This closed the chapter of " &c., &c., &c." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 The Phoenix and Rose up the Hudson. The Inefficacy of the Forts. A Chain put across the River. Anderson s Firc- 
 Sliips. Old Put s Pet Project. Chevaux-de-Frise, Chains, Booms, &c. The "American Turtle." Washington 
 rejoices over the Victory at Charleston. The Ten Thousand British on Staten Island. Washington determines to 
 remain on the Defensive. The British Thirty Thousand strong. The Americans about half the Number. The Fire- 
 Galleys put in Operation on the Hudson. The Rose and Phoenix forced to shift their Quarters. The Fate of Ander 
 son, the American Turtle, c. 
 
 1776, 
 
 THE Americans were greatly dis 
 turbed by those two British ships, 
 the Phcenix and Rose, quietly lying at 
 their anchors up the Hudson. There they 
 were, only forty miles above New York, 
 
 cutting off all communication by water 
 between the city and Albany, and be 
 tween Washington s army and that of 
 Schuyler upon the lakes. It was true 
 
 * Sparks s Life of Washington. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. 
 
 ANDERSON S PROJECT. 
 
 313 
 
 they were watched so closely by Clinton 
 and his militiamen stationed on the banks 
 of the river, that they were prevented 
 from making a landing, or from having 
 communication with the tories who, with 
 " the most diabolical dispositions and in 
 tentions," abounded in those quarters. 
 
 Washington was aware of the ineffica- 
 cy of the American forts ; and when the 
 two ships ran by them, it exhibited a 
 proof, he says, " of what I had long most 
 religiously believed, and that is, that a 
 vessel with a brisk wind and strong tide 
 can not, unless by a chance shot, be 
 stopped by a battery, unless you can 
 place some obstruction in the water to 
 impede her motion within reach of your 
 guns." 
 
 The ingenuity of all was now being 
 exercised to destroy or drive away these 
 impudent intruders. Clinton was busy 
 above, and particularly active when he 
 discovered that the ships had one night 
 moved still farther up the river, and an 
 chored within six miles of Fort Montgom 
 ery, where he himself was stationed. He 
 was anxious lest they might " take advan 
 tage of a dark night and slip by him in 
 the deep shadows of the mountains." He 
 accordingly determined to be on the alert. 
 Guards were sent below, and preparations 
 made with combustibles to light alarm- 
 fires, so soon as the ships should move. 
 Fire-rafts were constructed atPoughkeep- 
 sie, and sloops filled with inflammable ma 
 terials of all kinds, and kept ready to be 
 lashed together and sent down against 
 the Rose and Phoenix ; while an iron 
 chain was forged, to stretch across from 
 Fort Montgomery to Anthony s Nose, in 
 40 
 
 order to put a stop to their progress 
 should they attempt to sail up. 
 
 Washington, too, was vexing himself 
 with all sorts of contrivances to do some 
 thing eifective from below against the 
 audacious tars. Governor Trurnbull, of 
 Connecticut, had sent him two row-gal 
 leys, fitted out by the whalemen of New 
 London, and promised him a third ; while 
 Cooke, the governor of Rhode Island, had 
 been urged to do something with the nau 
 tical resources of his province in the emer 
 gency. One " Mr. Anderson" had been 
 received into the confidence of the com- 
 mander-in-chief, to whom he had been es 
 pecially commended by the president of 
 Congress. He had laid before that body 
 a plan for the destruction of the British 
 fleet in the harbor of New York, which 
 had been received with such favor, that 
 he was sent to Washington, with the re 
 quest that he would facilitate his pro 
 posed operations. Anderson himself was 
 so sanguine, that he declared he was wil 
 ling to risk his life in the experiment. 
 He was confirmed in his self-confidence 
 by a previous trial of his plan against the 
 British vessels off Quebec, which would 
 have succeeded, as he believed, " had it 
 not been defeated by the accident of his 
 being burnt himself" instead of the ships, 
 " and by the enemy s getting intelligence 
 of his plan and taking measures to coun 
 teract it." He was now at work 
 under the eye of Washington, 
 who writes that " the fire-ships are going 
 on under Mr. Anderson s direction, but 
 rather slowly." 
 
 Anderson himself, with the usual en 
 thusiasm of projectors, gives a more en- 
 
 July 27, 
 
314 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 July 31, 
 
 couraging account of his progress. "I 
 have been," he writes to the president of 
 Congress, "for some time past 
 very assiduous in the prepara 
 tion of fire-ships. Two are already com 
 plete, and hauled off into the stream; two 
 more will be off to-morrow, and the resi 
 due in a very short time. In my next, 
 I hope to give you a particular account 
 of a general conflagration, as everything 
 in my power shall be exerted for the de 
 molition of the enemy s fleet. I expect 
 to take an active part, and be an instru 
 ment for that purpose. I am determined 
 (God willing) to make a conspicuous fig 
 ure among them, by being ( a burning 
 and a shining light, and thereby serve 
 my country, and have the honor of meet 
 ing the approbation of Congress." 
 
 " I am preparing," writes Washington, 
 " some obstructions for the channel near 
 ly opposite the works at the upper end 
 of the island." And a few days later he 
 says : " The hulks and three chevmix-de- 
 frise, that had been preparing to obstruct 
 the channel, have got up to the place 
 they are intended for, and will be sunk 
 as soon as possible." This contrivance 
 was due to the Yankee ingenuity of " Old 
 Put," who was as full of enthusiasm for 
 his pet project as Anderson, whose darling 
 invention, it would seem from the follow 
 ing letter, that Putnam had adopted with 
 all the affection as if it had been his own 
 offspring : 
 
 " The enemy s fleet," he writes 
 to General Gates, " now lies in 
 the bay very safe, close under Staten isl 
 and. Their troops possess no land here 
 but the island. Is it not very strange 
 
 July 26, 
 
 that these invincible troops, who were to 
 destroy and 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 
 w r hich are ready charged and fitted to 
 sail, and I hope soon to have them all 
 fixed. 
 
 " We are preparing chevaux-dc-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 as 
 sured is very simple, a plan of which 1 
 send you. The two ships sterns lie tow 
 ard 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 picks will be raised to a proper 
 height, and they must inevitably stop the 
 river if the enemy will let us sink them." 
 
 Nor was this the last of the projects. 
 A mechanician of Connecticut, of the 
 name of Bushnell, .had invented a boat, 
 so contrived as to be rowed and steered, 
 and raised and sunk under water, at the 
 will of the operator within. To a part 
 of this submarine craft was attached a 
 moveable magazine of powder, which was 
 to be exploded by means of a clocldike 
 piece of mechanism. It was proposed to 
 get a bold navigator to start with this 
 machine, dive down into the bay, and 
 bring up under an enemy s vessel ; and 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. J 
 
 THE "AMERICAN TURTLE." 
 
 315 
 
 then, detaching the magazine, and boring 
 through "the ship s copper, to fasten it 
 like a barnacle to the bottom. This be 
 ing done, the magazine was to be wound 
 up, and its going off so timed, that the 
 adventurous submarine navigator might 
 have an opportunity of making good prog 
 ress homeward bound when the "Ameri 
 can Turtle," as the machine was called, 
 should begin its infernal operations. 
 
 " Old Put" likewise took kindly to the 
 "American Turtle." " Major-General Put- 
 nam," says Thacher, " was decidedly of 
 opinion that its operations might be at 
 tended with the desired success ; accord 
 ingly, he encouraged the inventor, and 
 resolved to be himself a spectator of the 
 experiment on the British shipping in 
 New- York harbor." While these schemes 
 of destruction were plotting, an attempt 
 was made against the enemy, according 
 to the principles of more regular warfare. 
 
 Ship after ship continued to add its 
 strength to the formidable fleet in the 
 bay. Crowded transports had come and 
 landed their thousands ; and now came 
 Sir Henry Clinton and Earl Corn- 
 wallis, after their defeat before 
 Charleston. Washington, cheered by the 
 intelligence which he had received some 
 few days before the arrival of the British 
 from the South, of the American success, 
 concludes his letter full of anxious busi 
 ness, addressed to Schuyler, with the un 
 usually lively remark for the sedate com- 
 mander-in-chief : "Sir Peter Parker and 
 his fleet got a severe drubbing in an at 
 tack made upon our works on Sullivan s 
 island." 
 
 To his army Washington announces 
 
 the southern victory with a decorous 
 gravity, and makes it an occasion for the 
 encouragement of the martial spirit and 
 patriotic emulation of his soldiers : " The 
 general has great pleasure," are the words 
 of the order of the day, " in communica 
 ting to the officers and soldiers of this 
 army the signal success of the American 
 arms, under General Lee, in South Caro 
 lina. This glorious 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 and spirited men fighting in de 
 fence of their country, we shall be loaded 
 with a double share of shame and infamy 
 if we do not acquit ourselves with cour 
 age, or a determined resolution to con 
 quer or die." 
 
 Washington had but little hope of act 
 ing offensively with advantage against the 
 enemy. The British had a much supe 
 rior army in numbers, discipline, and con 
 dition. General Howe had already land 
 ed ten thousand troops on Staten island ; 
 and his army, with those afloat in the 
 transports in the bay, and those hourly 
 expected, would amount soon, it was sup 
 posed, to twenty-five thousand men all 
 told. The Americans could only count 
 on about ten thousand men fit for duty ; 
 while the whole of Washington s army, 
 including the sick and others, did not 
 number much more than seventeen thou 
 sand. " Our situation at present," says 
 Washington, " both in regard to men and 
 other matters, is such as not to make it 
 
316 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 advisable to attempt anything against 
 them, surrounded as they are by water, 
 and covered with ships, lest a miscarriage 
 should be productive of unhappy and fa 
 tal consequences. It is provoking, nev 
 ertheless, to have them so near, without 
 being able to give them any disturbance." 
 
 There was little to be done but to re 
 main on the defensive, and await the op 
 erations of the enemy. Washington, how 
 ever, was not much more sanguine of his 
 means of defence than of his powers of 
 offence. "What kind of opposition we 
 shall be able to make," he says, " time 
 only can show. I can only say that the 
 men appear to be in good spirits, and, if 
 they will stand by me, the place shall not 
 be carried without some loss, notwith 
 standing we are not yet in such a pos 
 ture of defence as I could wish." 
 
 Washington, nevertheless, determined 
 to make " some efforts to annoy the en 
 emy," but not to put " too much to haz 
 ard, or in any manner to risk." It was 
 accordingly proposed to begin at Staten 
 island. It was found "impracticable to 
 do anything upon a large scale," and it 
 was therefore resolved merely to make 
 an humble attempt from the Jersey shore. 
 Major Knowlton, who was stationed at 
 Bergen, New Jersey, and General Mercer, 
 in command of the flying camp at Ainboy, 
 were directed to concoct a plan and carry 
 it into execution. These two according 
 ly got ready a small force and some boats, 
 and, marching down to the shore in the 
 evening, prepared to embark when it 
 should become sufficiently dark. The 
 night, however, proved so stormy, and 
 the waters of the "Kill" were in such a 
 
 state of agitation, that it was thought ad 
 visable to postpone the enterprise. On 
 a subsequent occasion it was proposed to 
 make another attempt, and a formidable 
 force of nearly four thousand men was 
 ordered out for the purpose ; but it was 
 found to be impossible to procure boats 
 enough to carry more than half of the 
 troops across to the island. All such at> 
 tempts were therefore abandoned, and 
 the attention of the whole army was now 
 being concentrated upon the probable 
 movement of the enemy. 
 
 Two deserters having come in, are ta 
 ken to headquarters, and from 
 them Washington learns " that 
 General Clinton and Lord Cornwalli; , 
 with the whole southern army, have ar 
 rived on Staten island from South Caro 
 lina, in number about three or four thou 
 sand ; that the fleet which carne in a few 
 days since, are the Hessians and Scotch 
 Highlanders, part of twelve thousand who 
 were left off Newfoundland, in the whole 
 making about thirty thousand men ; and 
 that it is said by the officers of the army 
 and navy, they are to attack New York 
 and Long island in the course of a week." 
 
 " When," says Washington to Governor 
 Trumbull, of Connecticut, " I consider the 
 weakness of our army by sickness, the 
 great extent of ground we have to de 
 fend, and the amazing slowness with which 
 the levies come forward, I think it is ab 
 solutely necessary that the neighboring 
 militia should be immediately sent to our 
 assistance." 
 
 Washington s anxiety may be inferred 
 from what he adds in the same letter: 
 "The disgrace of the British arms to the 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ATTACK ON THE ROSE AND PHCENIX. 
 
 317 
 
 southward, and the season being far ad 
 vanced, will make them exert every nerve 
 against us in this quarter. To trust alto 
 gether in the justice of our cause, without 
 our own utmost exertions, would be tempt- 
 ing Providence ; and, that you may judge 
 of our situation, I give you the present 
 state of our army. (Present fit for duty, 
 10,514 ; sick present, 3,039 ; sick absent, 
 629; on command, 2,946; on furlough, 
 97 : total, 17,225.) By this you will see 
 we are to oppose an army of thirty thou 
 sand experienced veterans with about one 
 third the number of raw troops, and these 
 scattered some fifteen miles apart." 
 
 There was now an opportunity of test 
 ing the various means of mischief so in 
 geniously devised against the Rose and 
 Phoenix. Six of the row-galleys were 
 soon got ready, and, being sent up the 
 river, were manned by crews of doughty 
 fresh-water men, principally belonging to 
 Tarrytown, and commanded by Colonel 
 Tupper. This little fle*et boldly pushed 
 out into the " Tappan sea," and began an 
 attack upon the two British cruisers. The 
 fight was gallantly maintained for nearly 
 two hours, in the course of which the big 
 ships were repeatedly hulled ; but the 
 little fleet, being badly damaged in re 
 turn, was finally obliged to " haul off." 
 " Never," says a writer quoted by Irving, 
 " did men behave with more firm, deter 
 mined 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 gra 
 cious Providence, that in all our galleys 
 
 we had but two men killed and fourteen 
 wounded, two of which are thought dan 
 gerous. We hope to have another brush 
 with these pirates before they leave our 
 river; which God prosper." 
 
 The fire-ships, too, were brought into 
 play, and not without effect. Two of 
 them were sent up the river, in 
 order to set fire to the British 
 vessels. One got alongside of the Phce- 
 nex and grappled with her for some min 
 utes, but she succeeded in clearing her 
 self. The other made an attempt upon 
 the Rose, but, failing to reach her, fell 
 afoul of one of the tenders, and soon had 
 her in a blaze. The crews behaved with 
 great resolution and intrepidity ; and one 
 of the captains stuck so long to his fire- 
 ship, that he was finally obliged to make 
 his escape by plunging into the water 
 and swimming for his life. 
 
 Next morning the Rose- and Phoenix, 
 evidently very much discomposed by the 
 dangerous encounter of the day before, 
 made ready to shift their quarters. While 
 the ships were weighing anchor, a bold 
 militia lieutenant and two men pushed 
 off in a boat from the shore, and towed 
 in the hulk of the burnt tender, in spite 
 of the enemy s guns, which kept up a 
 brisk fire. The Phoenix and Rose, now 
 taking advantage of a fresh and fair wind 
 and an ebbing tide, hoisted all sail and 
 hurried away.after a sojourn of five weeks. 
 The American riflemen along the banks 
 of the river were on the alert, and did not 
 fail to shoot with their usual skill at the 
 flying vessels ; but most of the men were 
 kept so close below, and those on dutv 
 upon deck were so well guarded by the 
 
318 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 thick ramparts of sandbags, that the rifles 
 failed to do much execution. The forts, 
 too, were busy, and their cannon were so 
 well pointed, that the Phoenix was three 
 times hulled and a tender once by the 
 shots from Fort Washington ; while the 
 Rose did not escape without a ball from 
 the opposite side of the river. They 
 finally succeeded in passing without much 
 damage, and were not stopped even by 
 the chevaux-de-frise upon which " Old Pat" 
 had expended so much ingenuity and la 
 bor, and so greatly calculated. By some 
 oversight or other, his famous obstruc 
 tion had not been completed, and the 
 vessels passed through the opening left 
 unclosed. 
 
 Of Anderson s project and extensive 
 preparations nothing more was heard ; 
 and he failed to prove "a burning and a 
 shining light" of as mighty an illumina 
 tion and conflagration as he had prom 
 ised. His fellow-projector Bushnell, the 
 Connecticut mechanician, also disappoint 
 ed the expectations of his enthusiastic 
 friends. Though it is somewhat in anti 
 cipation of events, it may be as well to 
 finish here the history of these famous 
 projects, by recording the end of the 
 " American Turtle." It was determined 
 to make the first experiment upon Lord 
 Howe s own ship, the Eagle, of sixty-four 
 guns. Accordingly, the machine was got 
 ready, and a night appointed. A number 
 of officers collected together on the wharf 
 at Whitehall, among whom General Put 
 nam, as the chief patron of the scheme, 
 was in a high state of active enthusiasm 
 on the occasion. At the very beginning, 
 however, there was a serious disappoint 
 
 ment. Bushnell s brother, having been 
 well drilled for the purpose, was to navi 
 gate the machine; but unfortunately, just 
 as he was about to make his adventurous 
 voyage, he was suddenly taken ill. 
 
 " Old Put," however, was not to be thus 
 put off; so he selected a sergeant out of 
 his own Connecticut regiment, in whose 
 native ingenuity he had naturally great 
 faith, and appointed him to the command 
 of the "American Turtle." The sergeant 
 readily consented to take charge, and, be 
 ing installed, strove at once to make him 
 self acquainted with the mysteries of the 
 machine. All being ready, the " Ameri 
 can Turtle" was started on its adventu 
 rous voyage. " Old Put" and his fellow- 
 officers, having bid a God-speed to the 
 bold sergeant, remained upon the wharf, 
 anxiously awaiting the result. The night 
 passed slowly, the day began to break, 
 and still the great ship of the admiral 
 reposed quietly in her smooth berth off 
 Governor s island The Eagle was evi 
 dently there ; but the "American Turtle" 
 where was it ? The waters of the bay 
 were undisturbed ; the bell-watches of 
 the ship were striking with their usual 
 regularity ; the island had still the appa 
 rent solidity of terra firma ; and the sun 
 appeared to be rising as orderly and in 
 as good time as ever ! 
 
 At last, the officers from the wharf at 
 Whitehall see a movement on Governor s 
 island. A barge filled with men shoves 
 off and rapidly approaches the admiral s 
 ship. It is seen suddenly to stop, and 
 then to return in great haste, as if fright 
 ened by a dark object which can now be 
 discerned floating quietly upon the sur- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 FAILURE OF THE "TURTLE." 
 
 319 
 
 face of the bay. In a moment after, a 
 loud noise is heard, "like thunder," and 
 a great column of water rushes up with 
 the force of a waterspout just alongside 
 the Eagle. Instantly her cables are cut, 
 and she drifts down the bay with the eb 
 bing tide. 
 
 The adventurous Connecticut sergeant 
 in the meantime pops up from below, in 
 his submarine boat ; but, finding that he 
 is within range of the sentries on Gov 
 ernor s island, he dives down again, and 
 does not make his appearance upon the 
 surface of the water until within hailing 
 distance of his patron, " Old Put," on the 
 Whitehall wharf. He is now towed in 
 by a small boat, and on his arrival gives 
 
 an account of his voyage. It seems he 
 had reached in safety the place whither 
 he was bound, under the bottom of the 
 Eagle ; but, finding that her copper was 
 too thick to penetrate, for the purpose 
 of attaching his magazine of powder, he 
 had visited some of the other vessels : 
 meeting, however, the same difficulty un 
 der them, he finally let off his infernal 
 machine, which produced, as we have 
 seen, the commotion in the water and the 
 agitation in the fleet. The officers on the 
 Eagle reported afterward that they had 
 been aware of something under the bot 
 tom of their ship, but, supposing it was 
 nothing but a floating log, they took no 
 further thought of the matter. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIV. 
 
 General Greene on the Alert at Long Island. The British Plan of Attack The Tories on Long Island ferreted out, and 
 dealt with vigorously. Washington touched with the Sufferings and Dangers of the People of New York. Rumors 
 of Peace. Greene falls ill. Putnam succeeds to the Command on Long Island. The Enemy cross, land, and beat 
 back the Provincial Outposts. The Excitement in New York. Washington s Preparations for the Worst. The Pro 
 vincial Defences. The Struggle. 
 
 1776, 
 
 GENERAL GREENE, in command of 
 the American troops and works on 
 Long island, was on the alert, watching 
 
 every movement of the enemy. 
 August 9, , .. , , , . * 
 
 Now he sends word to Washing 
 ton, at New York, that his lookouts had 
 reported that on the previous evening a 
 hundred boats were seen bringing troops 
 from Staten island to the transports, and 
 that three of the men-of-war had moved 
 down toward the narrows. A general 
 embarkation, it was supposed, had begun, 
 
 and an attack might be hourly expected. 
 Deserters came in, and confirmed these 
 reports. The plans of the Howes were 
 even openly discussed. Ships were to 
 sail up the North and East rivers, and 
 land the British troops on both sides of 
 the island of New York, and, forming a 
 junction, to hem in the Americans and 
 hold them at their mercy. 
 
 Washington was active, and hurried 
 to bring all his resources to bear on the 
 emergency. He writes to General Mer- 
 
320 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [TART IT. 
 
 cer, in New Jersey, to send him two thou 
 sand men from his flying camp, but con 
 fesses that he knows not where they are 
 to come from, for, according to the " gen 
 eral s last return, not more than three or 
 four hundred of the new levies had come 
 Smallwood s battalion of Maryland- 
 
 m. 
 
 ers had, however, already been sent. The 
 convention of New York was emphatical 
 ly urged to do its best, and responded by 
 a call upon the militia of the state, to 
 join the encampment above Kingsbridge. 
 The summons was urgent, and all were 
 to come, however accoutred, it being or 
 dered " that each man who shall not have 
 arms shall bring with him a shovel, spade, 
 pickaxe, or a scythe straightened and 
 fixed on a pole." Even all the disarmed 
 and disaffected, from sixteen to fifty years 
 of age, were to be brought forcibly along, 
 that they might serve as fatigue-men to 
 the respective regiments. 
 
 The recreant were to be severely dealt 
 with ; and when, for example, it was dis 
 covered that the inhabitants of Kings 
 county, on Long island, did not intend 
 to oppose the enemy, a committee was 
 appointed to visit them, and, if they found 
 them still in that temper, was authorized 
 to disarm and secure the disaffected per 
 sons, remove or destroy the stock of grain, 
 and if they should judge it necessary, to 
 lay the whole county waste. Some of 
 these Long-islanders did not appear very 
 formidable, as may be judged from the 
 account of a party of tories by General 
 Greene, who was actively engaged in fer 
 reting them out: 
 
 " I have examined the prisoners," says 
 Greene, " and find them to be a poor par 
 
 cel of ignorant, cowardly fellows. Two 
 are tailors and the other two common la 
 borers. They candidly confess that they 
 set off with an intention of going to Stat- 
 en island ; not with any intention of join 
 ing the enemy, but only to get out of the 
 way of fighting here. There has been a 
 draft amongst the militia to fill the new 
 levies, and it was rumored that these per 
 sons were drawn. It was also reported 
 that they were to go to the northern ar 
 my, and that almost all that went there 
 either died or were killed. The prospect 
 was so shocking to them, and to their 
 grandmothers and aunts, that I believe 
 they were persuaded to run away. Never 
 did I see fellows more frightened. They 
 wept like children, and were exceedingly 
 sorrowful. I beg your excellency s direc 
 tion how to dispose of them. They do 
 not appear to be acquainted with one 
 public matter. They have been ioryisli ; 
 .1 fancy not from principle, but from its 
 being the prevailing sentiment in the 
 country." 
 
 The tories, however, were not by any 
 means all of this character. New York 
 was full of men of wealth and position 
 who were lending their aid and encour 
 agement to the enemy. Washington was 
 very solicitous to have them removed ; 
 and suspected persons were being daily 
 arrested and sent off to Connecticut, where 
 they were confided to the safe keeping of 
 the patriotic Governor Trumbull. " There 
 are but few of them," says Washington, 
 "who will not defray their own expenses," 
 and they were promised every indulgence 
 consistent with the public safety. They 
 expressed " a very earnest desire to be 
 
REV OLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ILLNESS OF GREENE. 
 
 321 
 
 permitted to choose their own lodgings 
 nnd accommodations," to which Washing 
 ton, with his usual gentlemanly consider 
 ation, says, " I see no objection." 
 
 Washington s good heart was touched 
 and his gentle humanity called into ex 
 ercise by the condition of the helpless in 
 New York. He writes to the New-York 
 convention : " When I consider that the 
 city of New York will in all human prob 
 ability very soon be the scene of a bloody 
 conflict, I can not but view the great num 
 bers of women, children, and infirm per 
 sons remaining in it, with the most mel 
 ancholy concern. When the men-of-war 
 passed up the river, the shrieks and cries 
 of these poor creatures, running every 
 way with their children, were truly dis 
 tressing ; and I fear they will have an 
 unhappy effect on the ears and minds of 
 our young and inexperienced soldiery. 
 Can no method be devised for their re 
 moval ?" 
 
 General Howe still lingered in his pur 
 pose, and had so long delayed his attack, 
 that the American soldiers, at the sugges 
 tion of artful emissaries from the enemy, 
 began to discuss the probability of peace. 
 This became so general, that Washington 
 thought it necessary to allude to it in the 
 order of the day: "The general 
 being informed, to his great sur 
 prise, that a report prevails, and is indus 
 triously spread far and wide, that Lord 
 Howe has made propositions of peace, 
 calculated by designing persons probably 
 to lull us into a fatal security ; his duty 
 obliges him to declare that no such offer 
 has been made by Lord Howe, but, on 
 the contrary, from the best intelligence 
 
 41 
 
 , 20. 
 
 he can procure, the army may expect an 
 attack as soon as the wind and tide shall 
 prove favorable. He hopes, therefore, 
 that every man s mind and arms will be 
 prepared for action, and, when called to 
 it, show our enemies and the whole world 
 that freemen contending on their own 
 land are superior to any mercenaries." 
 
 While artful gossips were distracting 
 the minds of his soldiers with rumors of 
 peace, the American chief was awaiting 
 the " bloody conflict" which he knew was 
 inevitable. He expected the enemy each 
 moment. The signals and alarms were 
 ready: two cannon were to be discharged 
 from Fort George, at the lowest part of 
 the city; a flag in the daytime, or a light 
 at night, was to be raised on Bayard s 
 hill, and three guns of its battery fired 
 quickly but distinctly, to signify to the 
 troops to proceed to their alarm-posts 
 and prepare for action ; while the drums 
 were to beat to arms at the first sound 
 of the alarm-cannon. 
 
 The position of the Americans was not 
 very encouraging, and, to add to their 
 disadvantages, General Greene unfortu 
 nately fell ill. "I am very sorry," he 
 writes to Washington, " to be un 
 der the necessity of acquainting 
 you that I am confined to my bed w r ith 
 a raging fever. The critical situation of 
 affairs makes me the more anxious ; but 
 I hope, through the assistance of Provi 
 dence, to be able to ride, before the pres 
 ence of the enemy may make it absolute 
 ly necessary." This was a serious mis 
 fortune, as Greene had the command on 
 Long island, and, having directed the con 
 struction of the works there, and thor- 
 
 Aug, 15, 
 
822 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART u. 
 
 oughly studied the topography, he alone 
 probably was capable of a judicious de 
 fence. 
 
 Washington, aware of Greene s effi 
 ciency, anxiously awaited his return to 
 duty, and hesitated to appoint a succes 
 sor. The threatening aspect of the ene 
 my, however, forbade any further delay, 
 and the chief finally ordered Putnam to 
 the general command on Long island, and 
 General Sullivan to the special charge of 
 the troops without the lines. The loss 
 of Greene at this moment was especially 
 felt, as it appeared probable that the ene 
 my would first move against Long island. 
 Washington, it is true, knew that it was 
 impossible to prevent Howe from land 
 ing on the island, as its great extent af 
 forded "a variety of places favorable for 
 that purpose," and the whole of the Amer 
 ican works were "at the end opposite to 
 the city." With Greene in command, he 
 had hopes, no doubt, of holding the posi 
 tion at Brooklyn. Now, howev 
 er, he seems less sanguine, and 
 says, " We shall attempt to harass them 
 as much as possible, which will be all that 
 we can do." 
 
 The long-expected movement of the 
 enemy at last began. The men-of-war 
 had been anchored at the narrows, to cov 
 er the landing ; and, as soon as the day 
 dawned, the tents on Staten isl 
 and were struck, and the troops 
 embarked. Soldiers, too, principally Hes 
 sians, crowded the decks of the fleet of 
 transports, and thronged over the ships 
 sides into the boats. Boat followed boat 
 in quick succession, and, passing rapidly 
 to the shore, and making for Gravesend 
 
 Aug. 20, 
 
 Aug. 22, 
 
 bay, landed the men near Gravesend and 
 New Utrecht, on Long island. As the 
 troops debarked, and crowded up in thou 
 sands toward the high ground, Colonel 
 Hand retired with his riflemen from his 
 post on the hill, burning the wheat and 
 destroying whatever else might fall into 
 the hands of the British. 
 
 " Nine thousand men have landed and 
 approached within three miles of the Amer 
 ican lines," is the intelligence brought by 
 a hurried messenger to Washington. He 
 immediately sends six battalions to rein 
 force the troops at Brooklyn, and is ready 
 to detach five more in case that this move 
 ment of the enemy does not prove a feint, 
 and that the fleet should not move up 
 with the remainder of the army and make 
 an attack upon New York. While in 
 this state of uncertainty about the pre 
 cise manoeuvres of Howe, Washington is 
 well persuaded that, whatever they may 
 be, "a little time will produce some im 
 portant events I hope," he says, K they 
 
 will be happy." He is encouraged some 
 what by the temper of his men. The 
 reinforcement sent off had gone in "high 
 spirits," and " the whole of the army, that 
 are effective and capable of duty, discov 
 er the same and great cheerfulness." 
 
 Still farther to encourage the good 
 spirit of his soldiers, and to remind them 
 of their high duties, Washington addres 
 ses them in these ardent words : 
 "The enemy have now landed 
 on Long island, and the hour is fast ap 
 proaching on which the honor and suc 
 cess of this army, and the safety of our 
 bleeding country, will depend. Remem 
 ber, officers and soldiers, that you are 
 
 Aug. 23, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 PREPARING FOR THE WORST. 
 
 323 
 
 freemen, fighting for the blessings of lib 
 erty ; that slavery will be your portion, 
 and that of your posterity, if you do not 
 acquit yourselves like men. Remember 
 how your courage and spirit have been 
 despised and traduced by your cruel in 
 vaders ; though they have found by dear 
 experience at Boston, Charleston, and 
 other places, what a few brave men, con 
 tending in their own land, and in the best 
 of causes, can do against hirelings and 
 mercenaries. 
 
 " Be cool, but determined ; do not fire 
 at a distance, but wait for orders from 
 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 as an example. 
 He hopes no such will be found in this 
 army ; but on the contrary, that every 
 one for himself resolving to conquer or 
 die, and trusting in the smiles of Heaven 
 upon so just a cause, will behave with 
 bravery and resolution. Those who are 
 distinguished for their gallantry and good 
 conduct, may depend upon being honor 
 ably noticed, and suitably rewarded ; and 
 if this army will but emulate and imitate 
 their brave countrymen in other parts of 
 America, he has no doubt they will, by 
 a glorious victory, save their country, and 
 acquire to themselves immortal honor." 
 
 The inhabitants of New York were in 
 the meantime in a state of great excite 
 ment. The struggle was now almost at 
 their doors, and they hourly, as they lis 
 tened with trembling to the sound of the 
 cannon s roar, expected that the enemy 
 would be in their midst. To the certain 
 horrors of the sword were added the ter 
 
 rors of fire, which they feared was about 
 to desolate their homes. It was rumored 
 throughout the town that, in case the 
 American army should be obliged to re 
 treat, the city would be burned. The 
 New- York convention wrote with anx 
 ious alarm to Washington, who replied : 
 " I can assure you, gentlemen, that this 
 report is not founded upon the least au 
 thority 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 fami 
 lies, that nothing but the last necessity, 
 and that such as should justify me to the 
 whole world, would induce me to give 
 orders for that purpose." 
 
 Washington, with his usual caution and 
 systematic regard to business, had placed 
 all the papers he held " respecting the af 
 fairs of the state " in a large box, nailed 
 them up, and committed them to the care 
 of Lieutenant-Colonel Reed, brother of 
 his old secretary (now adjutant-general), 
 to be delivered to Congress. " I hope," 
 he says," the event will show the caution 
 unnecessary; but yet prudence required 
 that it should be done, lest by any acci 
 dent they might fall into their hands." 
 Mrs. Washington had left New York some 
 time previously, and was now on her way 
 to Mount Vernon ; while the rest of the 
 wives and families of the general officers 
 had also gone for security to their homes, 
 or into the interior of the country. All 
 were evidently preparing for the worst. 
 
 The British continued to land on Long 
 island without opposition. On 
 the first day eight thousand 
 came, and in two days more the whole 
 
 Aug. 22. 
 
324 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 invading force, amounting to ten thou 
 sand men and forty cannon, reached the 
 ground. Forming as they arrived, they 
 marched inland for several miles and then 
 encamped. 
 
 General Putnam was now in command 
 of the American troops within the lines. 
 The works, consisting of redoubts and in- 
 trenchments, stretched from Wallabout 
 bay on the north to Gowanus on the south 
 across the neck of that peninsula over 
 which a city now expands, but within 
 which at that time there were only a few 
 scattered houses, forming the village of 
 Brooklyn. Opposite, to the northwest, 
 stands New York, separated from Brook 
 lyn by the East river, nearly a mile broad 
 at that point. To the west lies Govern 
 or s island, where the Americans had erect 
 ed a fort ; and at Red Hook, on the south 
 west corner of the peninsula, was a strong 
 battery. 
 
 Beginning about two and a half miles 
 to the east of the American lines, there 
 was a ridge of hills, which, covered with 
 thick wood, extended for three miles tow 
 ard Jamaica on the northeast, and to the 
 narrows for the same distance on the 
 southwest. Through this natural barrier 
 across the island, there were three nar 
 row roads, bounded on each side by ac 
 clivities. One passed along the shore, 
 from Gowanus to the narrows ; a second 
 led directly east to Jamaica, through Bed 
 ford ; and the third, which was between 
 the two, passed through the hills to Flat- 
 bush on the south. There were, however, 
 by-paths and a narrow causeway, which, 
 clearing the ridge, passed well to the east, 
 and by which the passes through the hills 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 near their termination on the Jamaica 
 road could be reached. Two of these 
 passes through the hills were guarded by 
 outposts of eight hundred men each, and 
 hastily-constructed breastworks of trunks 
 of trees and brushwood ; the third, lead 
 ing through Bedford, seems to have been 
 overlooked. Colonel Miles was, however, 
 posted beyond the hills, to the south of 
 Bedford, to watch the advance of the en 
 emy in that quarter, and to reconnoitre 
 the approaches toward the Jamaica road. 
 The chief command of all the forces out 
 side the lines was intrusted to General 
 Sullivan, who had arrived on the ground 
 but a few days before the engagement, 
 and was now posted in person with a con 
 siderable force, defended by a redoubt, 
 within the mountain-pass on the road to 
 Flatbush. 
 
 General Howe, well informed by his 
 tory confederates on Long island, had ar 
 ranged his plan of attack with skilful 
 adaptation to the nature of the country. 
 His army was separated into three divis 
 ions : the centre, composed chiefly of the 
 Hessians, under De Heister; the left wing, 
 of a small force of British, under General 
 Grant ; and the right, which constituted 
 the chief body of troops, under General 
 Clinton, aided by Earls Cornwallis and 
 Percy, and accompanied by Howe him 
 self. 
 
 Soon after landing, the army began its 
 march. Grant led his force with slow 
 deliberation along the road overlooking 
 the river, and leading toward the right 
 of the Americans. De Heister marched 
 his centre from New Utrecht direct to 
 Flatbush ; while Howe and Clinton hur- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND. 
 
 325 
 
 ried with their right, composed of the 
 main force, to Flatlands, and thence tow 
 ard the Jamaica road. 
 
 Howe s plan was, by means of this cir 
 cuitous route, to turn the left of the Amer 
 icans, and thus taking them by surprise, 
 to hem them in between his right com 
 ing from behind, and the left and centre 
 advancing in front. Grant and De Heis- 
 ter were accordingly ordered to move de 
 liberately, and not to precipitate an at 
 tack until signal-guns from Clinton, who 
 had the chief active command, should an 
 nounce to them the success of his ma 
 noeuvre. 
 
 De Heister, finding the central pass 
 occupied by Colonel Hand and his rifle 
 men, who had retired there upon the 
 landing of the British at New Utrecht, 
 did not give immediate battle, but re 
 tired, in accordance with his orders, to 
 Flatbush, where he posted his men for 
 the night. 
 
 Grant in the meantime advanced along 
 the road by the shore, driving before him 
 the Americans, who fled without firing a 
 gun. He continues his march unopposed 
 during the night, and at break of day has 
 got through the pass in the hills, and is 
 marching toward the American lines be 
 yond. General Parsons, in command of 
 the outpost, now succeeds in rallying 
 some of the fugitives, and, posting them 
 advantageously on a hill, checks the Brit 
 ish advance within about two miles of the 
 American camp, until the arrival of Lord 
 Stirling, who is sent by Putnam to his aid 
 with fifteen hundred men. 
 
 Washington meanwhile crosses over to 
 Brooklyn, and anxiously strives to dis- 
 
 Aug, 26. 
 
 cover the manoeuvres of the enerny. He 
 remains the whole day with Put 
 nam in his camp, and counsels 
 him in the emergency. He observes " a 
 scattering, unmeaning, and wasteful fire" 
 from his undisciplined soldiery, and he 
 therefore desires Putnam " to call the 
 colonels and commanding officers with 
 out loss of time" before him, and to "let 
 them afterward do the same by their re 
 spective officers, and charge them in ex 
 press and positive terms to stop these ir 
 regularities, as they value the good of 
 the service, their own honor, and the 
 safety of the army, which, under God, de 
 pends wholly upon the good order and 
 government that is observed in it." Prop 
 er lines of defence were ordered to be 
 formed around the encampment, and 
 works raised on the most advantageous 
 ground. The guards were to be strictly 
 instructed in their duties, and a brigadier 
 of the day was to remain constantly up 
 on the lines, that he might be on the spot 
 to command and see that orders were ex 
 ecuted. Field-officers were also to be ap 
 pointed, to go the rounds and report the 
 situation of the guards ; and no person 
 was to be allowed to pass beyond with 
 out special order in writing. The woods 
 were to be secured by abattis; the wood 
 next to Red Hook was to be well attend 
 ed to, and some of " the most disorderly 
 riflemen" posted in it; while the militia 
 who " have seen least service" were to be 
 kept within the interior works, and the 
 "best men" were to do their utmost to 
 prevent the approach of the enemy. 
 
 Foreseeing a general attack, Washing 
 ton returns to the city at night, full of 
 
326 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 anxious expectation of what the morrow 
 may bring forth. 
 
 Lord Stirling arrived early in 
 Aug. 27, ?, . / 
 
 the morning with his fifteen hun 
 dred men, composed of the reinforcements 
 sent by Washington, which were the choi 
 cest of his troops. These were Atlee s, 
 Haslet s, and Small wood s regiments, of 
 Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland. 
 Stirling posted most of his force on the 
 acclivity of what is now called " Battle 
 hill," in Greenwood ; and the rest, under 
 Atlee, in a neighboring wood, some little 
 distance in advance. Grant continued to 
 approach until he reached an orchard, 
 within a hundred yards or so of Stirling, 
 when the latter briskly attacked him. 
 
 The right wing of the British, having 
 reached Flatbush, began their silent march 
 at nine o clock in the evening. General 
 Clinton led the van ; then came Earl Per 
 cy, with the artillery and dragoons ; while 
 Earl Cornwallis, accompanied by Howe, 
 the commander-in-chief, followed in the 
 rear with the reserve. Guided by a tory 
 Long-islander through by-paths and over 
 a causeway raised above a swamp, the 
 
 van continues to march without disturb 
 ance. On arriving within a half-mile of 
 the Jamaica road, Clinton brings his men 
 to a halt, and sends out a reconnoitring- 
 party. They soon return, bringing back 
 a mounted patrol of American officers 
 whom they have captured, and the word 
 that the road is unoccupied. Clinton im 
 mediately sends forward a body of light- 
 infantry to secure it, and following at the 
 break of day with the rest of his force, 
 takes possession of the hill through which 
 the road passes. 
 
 The defence of this pass had been over 
 looked ; and, moreover, the outposts had 
 been apparently neglectful in watching 
 and reporting in time the progress of 
 Clinton s force. Colonel Miles, whose du 
 ty it was to guard this quarter, was not 
 aware, until too late, of the enemy s ap 
 proach ; and General Sullivan himself 
 seems to have been remiss in not sending 
 out fresh patrols when he found those 
 previously sent were so long in return 
 ing, as they well might be, since they 
 had, as we have related, fallen into the 
 hands of the enemy. 
 
IIKVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 LORD STIRLING SURROUNDED. 
 
 327 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The Struggle continued. Success of General Howe s Plan. Assisted by his Brother, Lord Howe. The Firmness of 
 the Delawarcs and Marylanders. Lord Stirling hemmed in. Tries to escape. Is forced to surrender. De Heister 
 and the Hessians. Sullivan retreats. The Hessians show no Mercy. Sullivan taken Prisoner. The Loss on Both 
 Sides. The Americans withdraw within their Line of Defence. Sullivan excuses Himself. The Americans rein 
 forced. The Movement of the British. Washington resolves to retreat. 
 
 1776, 
 
 CLINTON, possessed of the Jamaica 
 road, passed rapidly on with his van 
 through the pass in the Bedford hills. 
 His light-infantry then pushed on in the 
 direction of the American lines ; and find 
 ing no opposition but here and there a 
 small post, which was attacked and speed 
 ily forced, they continued their march. 
 The artillery coming up, Clinton ordered 
 two signal-guns to be fired, to signify to 
 Grant and De Heister that his manoeuvre 
 had succeeded, and that they were now 
 to begin a vigorous attack. The design 
 of Howe had been successful. The atten 
 tion of the Americans had been diverted 
 from Clinton s fatal movement on their 
 left by Grant s leisurely advance on the 
 ric iit. Lord Howe, too, had aided in fur- 
 
 D 
 
 thering the deceit by bringing up some 
 of his ships from the narrows, and open 
 ing a noisy cannonade upon Governor s 
 island and the battery at Red Hook. Put 
 nam and Sullivan were induced to believe 
 that the chief danger was on the right 
 of their lines, and they had accordingly 
 concentrated all their force in that direc 
 tion. 
 
 Grant had coquetted for several hours 
 \vith Lord Stirling and his force: now 
 advancing his light troops within a hun 
 dred yards or so. and exchanging fires 
 
 with the American riflemen, then order 
 ing them back to his main body; and, 
 again, commencing a desultory cannon 
 ade with his two fieldpieces, and thus ap 
 pearing to fear a general engagement. 
 Colonel Haslet, in command of the south 
 ern troops, who was unconscious of the 
 enemy s purpose, says : " The Delawares 
 and Marylanders stood firm to the last ; 
 and, after a variety of skirmishing, the 
 Delawares drew up on the side of a hill, 
 and stood upward of four hours, with a 
 firm, determined countenance, in close ar 
 ray, their colors flying, the enemy s artil 
 lery playing on them all the while, not 
 daring to advance and attack them., though six 
 times their number, and nearly surrounding 
 them" The Delawares and Marylanders 
 were undoubtedly as brave men as ever 
 fought; but Grant, in holding off, was 
 merely obeying orders. 
 
 The firing of Clinton s troops in his 
 rear now first awakens Stirling to the 
 consciousness that he is hemmed in be 
 tween them and Grant in front. The 
 earl s only thought at this moment is of 
 escape ; while Grant, catching the sound 
 of the guns, knows that it is a signal for 
 action, and pushes on his advance. The 
 Americans nearest at hand are dispersed, 
 and Atlee their colonel taken prisoner. 
 
328 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Lord Stirling strives to make his way 
 back to the American lines by a circuit- 
 ous route toward the shore, in course of 
 which he would be obliged to ford a creek 
 at Yellow Mills. He reaches this place, 
 and finds himself opposed by Lord Corn- 
 wallis, who has been detached from the 
 British right with a strong force, and, 
 having taken a position at the creek, de 
 fends its passage. Stirling had with him 
 but a small remnant of his troops, princi 
 pally composed of the brave " Delawares 
 and Marylanders." 
 
 Washington and a group of officers 
 were on the heights, watching with anxi 
 ety the movements of Stirling, who was 
 only separated from the American lines 
 by the creek which emptied into Gowa- 
 nus cove, the southern boundary of the 
 Brooklyn peninsula. " The earl will sure 
 ly surrender," thought Washington and 
 each of his officers, as they observed his 
 desperate position. Stirling, however, was 
 evidently bent on an attempt to reach 
 the lines. He prepares to attack Lord 
 Cornwallis, strongly posted as he is with 
 out and within the mill, which commands 
 the passage of the creek. Sending most 
 of his men to make the best of their way 
 through the water, he leads about half 
 of Srnallwood s brave regiment against 
 the enemy. Washington, surprised at 
 this daring movement, exclaims to the 
 officers at his side, " Good God ! what 
 brave fellows I must lose this day !"* 
 
 The attack began : Stirling was driven 
 back, but, rallying on his men, the assault 
 is renewed. He is again and again, for 
 five or six times, repulsed ; but, bringing 
 
 * Irvinjr. 
 
 up his handful of brave troops once more 
 to the charge, he is " on the point of dri 
 ving Lord Cornwallis from his station; 
 but, large reinforcements arriving, ren 
 dered it impossible to do more than pro 
 vide for safety." The slaughter was ter 
 rific. Colonel Smallwoocl s regiment of 
 Marylanders suffered extremely, and was 
 almost cut to pieces. It lost two hundred 
 and fifty-nine. " This loss was much re 
 gretted, on account of their being young 
 men of the best families in the country." 
 
 While the struggle was going on, some 
 succeeded in crossing the creek ; one man, 
 however, was drowned. The rest came 
 into the American lines drenched, be- 
 mired, and covered with blood, but bring 
 ing in with them twenty-three prisoners. 
 " Twenty-seven of the Delawares," writes 
 Colonel Haslet, " next morning were mis 
 sing. In that number were Lieutenants 
 Stewart and Harney, the latter a prison 
 er, the other not yet heard of. Major 
 M Donough was wounded in the knee ; 
 a ball passed through the sleeve of his 
 coat, without wounding the arm or his 
 body. Lieutenant Anderson had a bell 
 lodged in his throat; Lieutenant Corn a 
 ball still in his back. The standard was 
 torn with grapeshot in Ensign Stephan s 
 hand, who is now in his element, and a 
 most excellent officer. Such is our fate. 
 The Delaware battalion, officers and men, 
 are respected throughout this army."* 
 
 Lord Stirling tried still to reach the 
 lines ; but, in attempting to escape, he 
 found that in front he was met by a con 
 siderable body of troops, and was pursued 
 by others on his right and left, and all 
 
 * Sparks. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. 
 
 STIRLING AND SULLIVAN SURRENDER. 
 
 329 
 
 pouring a hot fire upon him and his few 
 remaining brave Mary landers. His lord 
 ship now gave up all hopes of escape, 
 and, falling back behind a hill in his rear, 
 determined to seek out General De Heis- 
 ter, and surrender himself. 
 
 De Heister, too. had strictly obeyed or 
 ders, and awaited the signal of Clinton 
 before he made a serious attempt. His 
 troops, after sleeping on their arms at 
 Flatbush during the night, were early 
 aroused, and marched along the road. 
 As soon as the signal-guns of Clinton 
 were heard, De Heister sent forward 
 Count Donop with his regiment to storm 
 the redoubt which protected Sullivan and 
 defended the pass through the hills, while 
 he himself led forward the rest of his 
 Hessians to the attack. A bloody strug 
 gle was the consequence. The Ameri 
 cans, however, did not long continue their 
 resistance ; as Sullivan, becoming con 
 scious of Clinton s manoeuvre, ordered a 
 retreat, with the view of preventing him 
 self from being shut out from the Ameri 
 can lines. He was, however, too late ; 
 for Clinton was ready to intercept him, 
 and, meeting the American troops on the 
 road, drove them back upon the Hessians. 
 De Heister and his soldiers showed no 
 mercy, and pitilessly bayoneted every 
 man within their reach. Driven thus 
 backward and forward between Clinton 
 in front and De Heister in the rear, the 
 Americans, with hardly a chance of es 
 cape, suffered terribly. The ferocity of 
 the Hessian soldiers was such as to give 
 countenance to the rumor, which was gen 
 erally circulated, that General Howe had 
 said to De Heister on his arrival, " The 
 
 42 
 
 Americans will give the foreigners no 
 quarter;" and that De Heister had an 
 swered, " Well, as I know it, I am ready 
 to fight on these terms." The soldiers 
 ears, too, were said to have been indus 
 triously filled with the most terrific ac 
 counts of the cruelty of the Americans, 
 who were represented as more than half 
 savages, and would, if they caught a Hes 
 sian alive, stick his body "full with pieces 
 of pine-wood," and burn him to death ! 
 The Hessians, it must be confessed, if 
 such was their belief, proved themselves 
 on that day fit to cope with the most 
 barbarous enemies. 
 
 A few of the Americans succeeded, un 
 der the cover of the woods, in making 
 their escape to Brooklyn, but most were 
 either killed or taken prisoners. Sulli 
 van surrendered himself, together with a 
 number of his officers. 
 
 General Howe now closed in with his 
 separate divisions, and pursued the scat 
 tered remnants of Stirling s and Sullivan s 
 forces to within a few hundred yards of 
 the American lines. The British soldiers, 
 exulting in their success, would have 
 rushed at once against the works, but 
 Howe cautiously withdrew them out of 
 the reach of the American guns, to the 
 cover of a wood, and, encamping his ar 
 my, prepared to make an assault upon 
 the fortifications of Brooklyn by deliber 
 ate approaches. The enemy had suffered 
 little comparatively, their loss being only 
 three hundred and eighty in all; while 
 that of the Americans was over two thou 
 sand in killed, wounded, and captured, 
 among whom were the two generals, Sul 
 livan and Lord Stirling, and a large num- 
 
330 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 her of other officers. Sullivan was anx 
 ious to exonerate himself from all respon 
 sibility for the loss of the day, and wrote 
 to the president of Congress a letter which 
 shows a care to redeem his own charac 
 ter, at all hazards to the fame of others. 
 He says : 
 
 I know it has been generally reported 
 that I commanded on Long island when 
 the action happened there. This is by 
 no means true. General Putnam had 
 taken the command from me four days 
 before the action. Lord Stirling com 
 manded the main body without the lines. 
 I was uneasy about a road, through which 
 I had often foretold that the enemy would 
 come, but could not persuade others to 
 be of my opinion. I went to the hill near 
 Flatbush to reconnoitre, and with a pick 
 et of four hundred men was surrounded 
 by the enemy, who had advanced by the 
 very road I had foretold, and which I had 
 paid horsemen fifty dollars for patrolling 
 by night, while I had the command, as I 
 had no foot for the purpose. 
 
 "What resistance I made with these 
 four hundred men against the British 
 army, I leave to the officers who were 
 with me to declare. Let it suffice for 
 me to say, that the opposition of the 
 small party lasted from half-past nine to 
 twelve o clock. 
 
 " The reason of so few troops being on 
 Long island was because it was generally 
 supposed that the enemy s landing there 
 was a feint to draw our troops thither, 
 that they might the more easily possess 
 themselves of New York. I often urged, 
 both by word and writing, that, as the 
 enemy had doubtless both these objects 
 
 Alls, 28, 
 
 in view, they would first try for Long 
 island, which commanded the other ; and 
 then New York, which was completely 
 commanded by it, would fall of course. 
 But in this I was unhappy enough to dif 
 fer from almost every officer in the army, 
 till the event proved my conjectures were 
 just." 
 
 The night after the engagement on 
 Long island was one of gloomy 
 anxiety to the Americans. Pros 
 trated by defeat, and doubtful of the se 
 curity of their position, they passed a 
 sleepless night, full of ill forebodings of 
 the future. The morning came, but with 
 it no bright summer sun, and no hope to 
 cheer the spirits of the troops. A dull 
 mist overhung land and water, and so 
 darkened the day, that every visible ob 
 ject had lost its summer glow, and seemed 
 dimmed, like the hearts of the patriots, 
 with a breath of sadness. The enemy, 
 with an overwhelming force, were within 
 a few hundred yards ; and the guards 
 could see their working-parties turning- 
 out, with the spade and the pick, to be 
 gin their approaches. 
 
 The Americans were, however, momen 
 tarily cheered by the arrival in the early 
 forenoon of the orderly battalions of Shee, 
 Magaw, and Glover. " The faces that nad 
 been saddened by the disasters of yestei- 
 day, assumed a gleam of animation" as 
 they approached ; while " a murmur of 
 approbation" was heard among " the spec 
 tators, occasionally greeting each other 
 with the remark, t These were the lads 
 that might do something ! " Compara 
 tively well dressed, well armed, and well 
 disciplined soldiers, in fact, of whom 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ANXIOUS SUSPENSE. 
 
 331 
 
 Washington himself had said, " They had 
 been trained with more than common at 
 tention," their appearance in that moment 
 of danger, naturally won the admiration 
 and aroused the hopes of their less-hap 
 pily-conditioned comrades. The misfor 
 tunes of the previous day had taught 
 even the most self-confident of the mili 
 tia of the disadvantages of a want of or 
 der and martial training. They now ex 
 hibited no rude contempt for " fine feath 
 ers and fine airs," but heartily welcomed 
 the very looks of a soldier. 
 
 General Mifflin had been ordered, on 
 the previous afternoon, to bring down 
 from Kingsbridge the battalions of Shee, 
 Magaw, and Glover, forming in all some 
 fifteen hundred men, and the next morn 
 ing they were sent from the city, where 
 they had passed the night, to take post 
 in Brooklyn near Wallabout bay. The 
 men cheerfully took their position on the 
 ground. It was low and unfavorable for 
 defence, and, with nothing but a /raised 
 ditch in front, gave little promise of se 
 curity ; while the enemy, within a few 
 hundred paces, were rapidly constructing 
 batteries upon the heights which com 
 manded Mifflm s position. The drizzling 
 mist of the morning had closed in a heavy 
 rain, and the men, unprovided with tents, 
 were drenched to the skin. Each soldier 
 had drawn his rations, but without the or 
 dinary camp conveniences he was forced 
 to eat " his pickled pork" without the pre 
 liminary boiling which, although gener 
 ally considered " desirable," was found 
 " not absolutely necessary" by these self- 
 denying patriots, who, as one of them 
 tells us, discovered in the course of their 
 
 hard experience that " the article was es 
 culent without culinary preparation." It 
 is comforting to know, however, that 
 there was occasionally a more savory 
 morsel for a lucky mouth than the " es 
 culent without culinary preparation ;" 
 for, says the same military annalist we 
 have quoted, " I remember, however, on 
 one of the days we were in this joyless 
 place, getting a slice of a barbecued pig, 
 which some of our soldiers had dressed 
 at a deserted house which bounded our 
 lines." 
 
 During the day the enemy were driv 
 en from their works by the drenching 
 rain to their tents. There was, however, 
 a constant skirmishing between their out 
 posts and the Americans. Those within 
 the lines continued to suffer greatly from 
 exposure to the weather. "Yesterday," 
 says Washington, writing on the 29th of 
 August, " it rained severely the whole 
 afternoon, which distressed our people 
 much, not having a sufficiency of tents 
 to cover them, and what we have not be 
 ing got over yet. I am in hopes they 
 will be all got to-day, and that they will 
 be more completely provided for, though 
 the great scarcity of these articles dis 
 tresses us be3^oud measure, not having 
 anything like a sufficient number to pro 
 tect our people from the inclemency of 
 the weather ; which has occasioned much 
 sickness, and the men to be almost bro 
 ken down." 
 
 In the evening the rain ceased to fall, 
 and the British resumed their advances 
 toward the American lines. Washington 
 was with the army at Brooklyn, and re 
 mained in anxious suspense, undeter- 
 
332 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT n. 
 
 . 29, 
 
 mined about the future, which, from the 
 ill condition and discouragement of the 
 troops, was not very cheering. The night 
 was passing, and still he and his aids were 
 on horseback, riding from post to post, 
 throughout the whole extent of the lines, 
 examining the defences, consulting w r ith 
 the officers, and encouraging the men. 
 
 With the mornino; came a 
 heavy log, which so covered the 
 land and water, that nothing could be 
 seen of the enemy s troops or fleet. Gen 
 eral Mifflin, however, accompanied by Ad 
 jutant-General Reed and Colonel Gray- 
 son, one of Washington s aids, rode to Red 
 flook, at the farthest end of the Ameri 
 can lines toward the bay, to strive to catch 
 a glimpse of the British fleet, and discov 
 er its movements. While straining their 
 eyes in vain to see through the shroud 
 of m st, a light breeze suddenly sprang 
 up, and so dispersed the fog, that the 
 ships at the narrows could be distinctly 
 seen. Lord Howe was evidently making 
 ready for a movement. All were astir. 
 The yards were manned, anchors were 
 being weighed, and boats were passing 
 from ship to ship. Reed galloped back 
 to Washington, to report what had been 
 seen. Mifilin and Grayson followed. So 
 impressed were they all with the idea 
 that Lord Howe was preparing to ad 
 vance with his ships up the East river, 
 with the view of hemming in the Ameri 
 cans at Brooklyn, and so persuaded were 
 they of the necessity of an immediate 
 retreat, that Reed was authorized by his 
 companions to suggest it to Washington. 
 The command er-in-chief immediately 
 called a council of war in an old stone 
 
 church, standing near the centre of the 
 village. There was no difference of opin 
 ion. It was now apparent to all that a 
 retreat was necessary. Some had from 
 the earliest moment thought it advisable. 
 As soon as Mifflin arrived from New York, 
 and had examined the relative condition 
 and position of the two opposing forces, 
 he said to Washington : " You must either 
 fight or retreat immediately. What is 
 your strength?" "Nine thousand," was 
 the answer. "It is not sufficient we 
 must therefore retreat," rejoined Mifflin. 
 
 When the council was consulting, Mif 
 flin undertook to propose the retreat ; 
 but lest, in making such a proposition, 
 he might incur the suspicion of a want 
 of spirit, he stipulated that, in case it was 
 determined upon, he should command the 
 rear, but, if action was the resolve, the 
 van.* 
 
 Immediate retreat was, however, unan 
 imously determined upon by the officers 
 of the council, for these cogent reasons : 
 the great loss sustained, by death and 
 capture, in the late action ; the injury 
 which the arms and ammunition had re 
 ceived from the heavy rains ; the proba 
 bility that the enemy would succeed in 
 getting their ships up the East river, and 
 thus cut off the communication between 
 Long island and New York ; the divided 
 condition of the troops, having so many 
 points to defend; and the expectation 
 that the enemy s ships, now in Flushing 
 bay, would transport across the sound a 
 part of the British army, who would form 
 an encampment above Kingsbridge, and 
 thus command New-York island. 
 
 * Gordon. 
 
K KV OLUTIOXARY.] 
 
 THE RETREAT. 
 
 333 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Preparations for the Retreat. The Retreat begins. The Night. Crossing the East River. Glover and his Marblehead 
 Men. A Change of Wind. A Dreadful Mistake. The Providential Fog. The Quick Steps of the Rear. The 
 Last Boat. The Next Morning. General Howe s Matutinal Surprise. The Unbelief of the British. A Harmless 
 Cannonade. General Sullivan a Messenger from Lord Howe to Congress. Washington does not approve. Lord 
 
 Howe moves his Fleet nearer New York. Washington doubtful of his Power to hold the City. The "Weakness 
 
 within" more feared than the " Strength without." 
 
 1776, 
 
 29, 
 
 " THIS day passed off like the last, 
 in watching, skirmishing, and rain. 
 After dark, orders were received and com 
 municated to us," says the lively annal 
 ist whom we have so often quoted, " to 
 hold ourselves in readiness for an attack 
 upon the enemy to take place in the 
 course of the night. This excited 
 much speculation among the offi 
 cers, by whom it was considered a truly 
 daring undertaking, rendered doubly so 
 from the bad condition of our arms, so 
 long exposed to the rain; and, although 
 we had bayonets, this was not the case 
 with the whole of our force, upon whom 
 we must depend for support. It was not 
 for us, however, to object to the measure : 
 we were soldiers, and bound to obey. 
 Several nuncupative wills were made up 
 on the occasion, uncertain as it was wheth 
 er the persons to whom they were com 
 municated would survive, e ither to prove 
 or to execute them." Graydon, who thus 
 reports the rumors of the camp, was soon 
 relieved from his anxieties about the at 
 tack. " There was a deep murmur," he 
 says, "which indicated some movement, 
 and the direction of the decaying sounds 
 was evidently toward the river. About 
 two o clock, a cannon went off with a tre 
 
 mendous roar. If the explosion was with 
 in our lines, the gun was probably dis 
 charged in the act of spiking it." The 
 retreat had begun; and the Pennsylvania 
 battalion, in which Graydon was an offi 
 cer had been appointed to cover the 
 movement. 
 
 Eight o clock in the evening was the 
 hour when the troops were ordered to be 
 drawn out, in readiness to be moved tow 
 ard the river. The soldiers were kept in 
 ignorance of Washington s purpose, and 
 they were not conscious of it until they 
 began to embark. The preparations had 
 been made with the utmost secrecy and 
 despatch. Early in the day, craft of all 
 kinds sloops and periaguas, flat-bottomed 
 scows and row-boats had been collected 
 from the wharves, the stream, up and 
 down the rivers, and gathered at Brook 
 lyn. Colonel Glover, with his men of 
 Marblehead (each one skilled, from his 
 experience in the fisheries, in the man 
 agement of the sail and the oar), had 
 charge of the boats. The colonel was 
 active from an early hour, passing fre 
 quently from Brooklyn to New York and 
 back again, in collecting and fitting out 
 his flotilla for the perilous passage of the 
 night. 
 
334 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 A delay occurred in moving the troops, 
 and it was nine o clock before the militia 
 had reached the river, ready for embar 
 kation. The boats were hauled close in 
 shore ; Glover and his men were on duty, 
 showing, in thoir skilful handling of the 
 craft, their Marblehead experience. The 
 tide was at the flood, and swept along the 
 shore in a rapid current; the wind, too, 
 began to blow freshly from the northeast. 
 The " old sailors" shook their heads, and 
 declared that, with wind and water against 
 them, it would not do to attempt the pas 
 sage under sail. The small boats, how 
 ever, were filled with troops, and began 
 to cross. Still, with the row-boats only, 
 it seemed impracticable to convey nine 
 thousand men across a river three quar 
 ters of a mile in breadth ; and General 
 M Dougall, who was stationed on the 
 Brooklyn shore to superintend the em 
 barkation, was so discouraged, that he 
 sent word by Colonel Grayson to Wash 
 ington, that he thought it impracticable 
 to accomplish the retreat that night. 
 Grayson went and returned without find 
 ing the commander-in-chief, and the slow 
 operation of the crossing and recrossing 
 of the small boats was continued. 
 
 Now, however, a fortunate change oc 
 curred : the wind sprang up from the op 
 posite quarter, and, blowing freshly from 
 the southwest, would carry the sailing- 
 craft straight to New York. The nautical 
 skill of the Marblehead men was at once 
 put into requisition ; and, with sails all 
 set, they were soon, with their fleet of 
 sloops, periuyuas, and sail-boats (although 
 loaded with men deep down to the gun 
 wales), dashiiv across to the city. 
 
 / f / 
 
 The delay had been long, and morning 
 was approaching, when the enemy would 
 be on the alert to dash the hopes of all 
 by an attack, the result of which was too 
 terrible to contemplate. " Providence in 
 terposed in favor of the retreating army, 
 by sending a thick fog about two o clock, 
 which hung over Long island, while on 
 the New-York side it was clear." This 
 fog proved no less a merciful interposi 
 tion for those still in the American camp. 
 Washington had despatched an aid-de 
 camp, Colonel Scammel, to General Mif- 
 flin, with orders to hasten down all the 
 troops on their march. Scammel hur 
 ried away, but soon returned, followed 
 by Mifflin and all the covering-party ! 
 Good God ! General Mifflin," exclaimed 
 Washington, as soon as he saw him, "I 
 am afraid you have ruined us, by so un 
 seasonably withdrawing the troops from 
 the lines." "I did so by your order," 
 qi~ ; okly answered Mifflin. " It can not be," 
 emphatically replied Washington. "By 
 G-d I did !" as resolutely rejoined the oth 
 er, and asked, Did Scammel act as aid- 
 de-camp for the day, or did he not?"- 
 " He-did," answered Washington. " Then," 
 replied Mifflin, "I had orders through 
 him." Washington then calmly said : " It 
 is a dreadful mistake ; and, unless the 
 troops can regain the lines before their 
 absence is discovered by the enemy, the 
 most disastrous consequences are to be 
 apprehended."* 
 
 The fog was here again their salvation. 
 Mifflin succeeded in leading his troops 
 back without the British having discov 
 ered that they had been absent. "This 
 
 * Irving. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 TORPIDITY O* THE HOWES. 
 
 33; 
 
 was a trying business for young soldiers," 
 reports one of them, and particularly so 
 in this case ; for, on their march to the 
 ferry, there had already been a cry that 
 the British light-horse were at their heels, 
 and the battalion had halted and formed, 
 while the front rank, kneeling, had pre 
 sented pikes " to receive the charge of 
 the supposed assailants." When ordered 
 to return to the lines, the men willingly 
 obeyed. " Whoever," says another mili 
 tary annalist, " has seen troops in a simi 
 lar situation, or duly contemplates the 
 human heart in such trials, well knows 
 how to appreciate the conduct of these 
 brave men on this occasion." 
 
 It is not surprising, when a genuine 
 order did come, that they " did not lin 
 ger ;" and, though they naturally "moved 
 with celerity," it is no more than we ex 
 pect of such true soldiers that they " guard 
 ed against confusion." They were the 
 last of the troops to leave the linos ; and, 
 succeeding in reaching the place of em 
 barkation without annoyance from the 
 enemy, took to the boats in readiness for 
 them, and crossed to New York in safety. 
 " I found," says Graydon, " a boat, pre 
 pared for my company, which immediate 
 ly embarked, and, taking the helm my 
 self, I so luckily directed the prow, no 
 object being discernible in the fog, that 
 we touched near the centre of the city." 
 
 The whole manoeuvre was a great suc 
 cess, and, although much aided by the 
 providential" fog. reflected no little cred 
 it upon Washington s military skill. The 
 cannon and stores were, for the most part, 
 brought off without loss or damage. A 
 few heavy pieces of artillery were, how 
 
 ever, left behind, which it was found im 
 possible to drag away, in consequence of 
 the wheels of the carriages sinking up to 
 the hubs in the earth which had been sat 
 urated with the severe and long-contin 
 ued rains. A few heads of cattle, also, 
 which had been driven within the lines, 
 were abandoned, after various attempts 
 to force them across the water. Wash 
 ington himself and his staff, though often 
 entreated, would not leave the shore of 
 Brooklyn until the last body of troops 
 had embarked. At about eight o clock, 
 the fog cleared away. Four boats were 
 still on the river : three half way over, 
 filled with croops ; the fourth, containing 
 three fellows who had tarried behind to 
 plunder, was so near the shore, that the 
 enemy, who at this moment thronged into 
 the lines deserted by the Americans, coin 
 manded it with their guns and forced it 
 to return. 
 
 Howe had only been aroused to tne 
 fact of the retreat at early dawn of day. 
 " The high-feeding English gen 
 eral," says a compatriot of his 
 own, " s^ept on ; and his brother the ad 
 miral, not so apt to do^e, did not move a 
 single ship or boat, and was to all appear 
 ance unconscious of what was going on." 
 The first intelligence brought to General 
 Howe was by a negro-servant of a Mrs. 
 Ilapelye, of Brooklyn. This lady s hus 
 band, suspected of tory proclivities, had 
 fallen under General Greene s scrutiny, 
 in the course of his raid against the dis 
 affected, and been duly secured. His 
 wife, however, had tory inclinations of 
 her own, which were now sharpened by 
 revenge from the forced absence of her 
 
 Aug. 30. 
 
336 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 husband. Remaining in Brooklyn, she 
 became aware, in the evening, of the re 
 treat of the Americans, and sent her ne 
 gro, with information of the fact, to the 
 British camp. The first man into whose 
 hands he fell chanced to be a Hessian, 
 who could not understand a word of the 
 poor African s English splutter ; so he was 
 clapped into the guardhouse for the night, 
 and only brought before the British gen 
 eral next morning, by whom his message 
 was understood, when it was too late to 
 be of service. 
 
 Even now the story was hardly be 
 lieved ; and it was only when Captain 
 Montressor, fortified by the presence of 
 an armed party, had cautiously approach 
 ed the lines, and, climbing up the em 
 bankment, had peeped over and found 
 the place abandoned, that Howe was ful 
 ly persuaded of the mortifying fact that 
 the American army had escaped from his 
 clutches. The drums now beat the morn 
 ing reveille ; and, while the British troops 
 were striking their tents and preparing 
 to move, small bodies of light-horse gal 
 loped to various points toward the shore 
 to reconnoitre ; and some fieldpieces were 
 hurried into Brooklyn, and began to pour 
 a harmless cannonade at the retreating 
 
 O 
 
 boats. 
 
 On the succeeding night, the Ameri 
 cans also brought away their ar 
 tillery, stores, and tents, from 
 Governor s island. One man, however, 
 lost his arm by a shot from a British man- 
 of-war, while engaged in this dangerous 
 enterprise. During the whole of this per 
 ilous time, Washington was personally so 
 active, that for forty-eight hours previous 
 
 Aug. 30, 
 
 to the completion of the retreat from 
 Long- island, he had hardly been off his 
 horse, or closed his eyes ; " so that I was 
 quite unfit," he says on the next day, :; to 
 write or dictate till this morning." 
 
 General Sullivan, when taken prisoner 
 during the battle of Long island, was im 
 mediately sent on board the admiral s 
 ship. Here Lord Howe had frequent in 
 terviews with Sullivan, and took occasion 
 to tell him how desirous he was of accom 
 modation with the colonies, and of fulfil 
 ling the purpose of his nppointrnent by 
 the British government as a commission 
 er to treat with the Americans. With 
 this object in view, his lordship expressed 
 the wish of seeing some of the members 
 of Congress. The American general was 
 so far impressed by the admiral s earnest 
 desire, that he consented to go (on his 
 parole) to Philadelphia with a verbal mes 
 sage, the purport of which was, that, al 
 though Lord Howe could not treat with 
 Congress as such, he was desirous of con 
 ferring with some of its members as pri 
 vate gentlemen only, whom he would meet 
 at any place they would appoint; that in 
 conj unction with General Howe, his broth 
 er, he had full powers to compromise the 
 dispute with America, on terms advanta 
 geous and honorable to both the colonies 
 and the mother-country ; that he wished 
 a compact might be settled at this time, 
 when no decisive blow was struck, and 
 neither party could allege being com 
 pelled to enter into such agreement; and 
 that in case Congress were disposed to 
 treat in the manner suggested, ninny 
 things not yet asked might be granted 
 them ; and if, upon the conference being 
 
REVOLUTION" ABY.] 
 
 BRITISH IN POSSESSION OF BROOKLYN. 
 
 337 
 
 held, there should arise good ground for 
 the accommodation, this might lead to an 
 acknowledgment of its authority, as oth 
 erwise the compact could not be com 
 pleted. 
 
 Sullivan was put ashore at New York 
 on the day after the retreat from Long 
 island, and immediately presented himself 
 to Washington, with a statement of his 
 desire to lay before Congress the message 
 which he had received from Lord Howe. 
 Washington urges no objection. "I have 
 consented," he says, " to his going to Phil 
 adelphia, as I do not mean, or conceive 
 it right, to withhold or prevent him from 
 giving such information as he possesses 
 in this instance." Washington evidently 
 did not sympathize very warmly with 
 this diplomatic movement, the issue of 
 which we shall have occasion to record 
 in the course of our narrative. 
 
 General Howe now took possession of 
 the American works at Brooklyn, and, gar 
 risoning them with a force principally of 
 Hessians, distributed the rest of his troops 
 along the shores of Long island which 
 overlooked the East river; posting them 
 at Bushwick, Hellgate, Flushing, and New- 
 town. The admiral, too, now began to 
 close with his fleet toward the city, and, 
 anchoring most of his ships off Governor s 
 island, sent on the night after the battle 
 a forty-gun frigate up the East river. She 
 succeeded in passing up between Gov 
 ernor s and Long islands, and, although 
 fired upon by the American batteries, was 
 enabled to reach an anchorage in Turtle 
 bay without damage. The next morning, 
 however, Washington despatched Major 
 Crane, of the artillery, with two twelve- 
 
 43 
 
 pounders and a howitzer, which, hulling 
 her several times, forced her to take shel 
 ter behind Blackwell s island, where she 
 remained. Several other British ships- 
 of-war, with a whole fleet of store and 
 transport vessels, which had come round 
 Long island, were also stationed in the 
 sound above. 
 
 As the enemy were thus closing about 
 him, Washington began to be doubtful of 
 the possibility of continuing to hold the 
 city of New York. He felt the need of 
 disciplined troops, and ordered General 
 Mercer to send the thousand men intend 
 ed for the flying camp to the city; while 
 a corresponding number of the militia 
 were to be detached to take their place 
 in New Jersey, and try to make a diver 
 sion, if practicable, upon Staten island. 
 " Till of late," says Washington, in unusu 
 ally despairing words for him, "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." He was already contemplating an 
 evacuation, and writes to the president 
 of Congress, asking " If we should be 
 obliged to abandon the town, ought it to 
 stand as winter-quarters for the enemy ? 
 
 They would," he continues, "derive 
 
 great conveniences from it, on the one 
 hand ; and much property would be de 
 stroyed 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 re 
 solve upon the destruction of it, the reso 
 lution should be a profound secret, as the 
 knowledge of it will make a capital change 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [l AKT II. 
 
 in their plans." Washington s great diffi 
 culty was, however, with his troops, which, 
 since the defeat on Long island, were so 
 disheartened and disorganized, that no re 
 liance could be placed upon them as an 
 
 army, either for offence or defence. The 
 American commander-in-chief was thus 
 placed almost hors de combat, not so much 
 by the strength without as by the weak 
 ness within. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Discouragement of the American Troops. Desertion. Villany and Rascality. Washington calls loudly for lleform. 
 Low Fellows in High Places. Fort Constitution garrisoned and strengthened. Removal of Stores from the City of 
 New York. The Enemy threaten to cross the East River and cut off the Communication with the Country. New 
 York to be burned, or not ? Opinions on the Subject. The New Disposition of the American Army. The Howes 
 pause for a Reply from Congress. 
 
 1776, 
 
 Sept. 2, 
 
 WASHINGTON would be particular 
 ly happy, he writes to Congress, if 
 he could transmit to them information 
 that would be agreeable to their wishes; 
 but " unfortunately for me, unfortunately 
 for them," it is not in his power. " Our 
 situation," he declares, " is truly 
 distressing. The check our de 
 tachment 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 ef 
 forts to a brave and manly opposition, in 
 order to repair our losses, are dismayed, in 
 tractable, 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. 
 This circumstance, of itself, independent 
 of others, when fronted by a well-appoint 
 ed enemy superior in number to our whole 
 collected force, would be sufficiently dis 
 agreeable ; but, when their example has 
 
 infected another part of the army, when 
 their want of discipline and refusal of al 
 most every kind of restraint and govern 
 ment have produced a like conduct but 
 too common to the whole, and an entire 
 disregard of that order and subordination 
 necessary to the well-doing of an army, 
 and which had been inculcated before, as 
 well as the nature of our military estab 
 lishment would admit of our condition 
 becomes still more alarming; and with 
 the deepest concern I am obliged to con 
 fess my ivant of confidence in the generality 
 of the troops." 
 
 These were strong words, which, how 
 ever, seemed unfortunately too well justi 
 fied by the conduct of the army, and es 
 pecially of the militia. "Almost every 
 villany and rascality are daily practised; 
 so many of our officers want honor, and 
 so many of our soldiers want virtue, civ 
 il, social, and military, that nothing but 
 the severest punishments can keep them 
 from ruining the American cause" was 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 CHARACTER OF MILITIA. 
 
 330 
 
 the testimony of others besides Washing 
 ton. A contemporary declares, "I have 
 heard some tales of wo, occasioned by the 
 robberies of our army, which would ex 
 tort sighs from the hearts of tigers." An 
 other emphatically asserts : " Unless some 
 speedy and effectual measures are adopt 
 ed by Congress, our cause will be lost. 
 The few who act upon principles of dis 
 interestedness are, comparatively speak 
 ing, no more than a drop in the ocean. 
 As the war must be carried on systemat 
 ically, you must establish your army up 
 on a permanent footing, and give your 
 officers good pay, that they may be and 
 support the character of gentlemen, and 
 not be driven, by a scanty allowance, to 
 the low and dirty arts which many of 
 them practise, to filch the public of more 
 than the difference of pay would amount 
 to. The men must be engaged by a good 
 bounty, for the continuance of the war. 
 To depend upon militia is assuredly rest 
 ing on a broken staff They can not brook 
 subordination. It would be cheaper to 
 keep fifty or a hundred thousand in con 
 stant pay, than depend upon half the 
 number, and supply the other half occa 
 sionally by militia. If I was to declare, 
 upon oath, whether the militia have been 
 most serviceable or hurtful, upon the 
 whole, I should subscribe to the latter. 
 No man who regards order, regularity, or 
 economy, or who has any regard for his 
 own honor, character, or peace of mind, 
 will risk them upon militia." 
 
 The system of choosing their own offi 
 cers, in the militia-companies, seemed de 
 structive of all order and discipline. The 
 men would select those only who consent 
 
 ed to throw their pay into a joint stock, 
 from which captains, lieutenants, ensigns, 
 sergeants, corporals, drummers, and pri 
 vates, drew equal shares. With this sys 
 tem, low fellows naturally were found in 
 high places ; and accordingly it was not 
 surprising that a captain should be proved 
 guilty of stealing his soldiers blankets ; 
 that another officer should be found sha 
 ving his men "in the face of distinguished 
 characters ;" and that many of the regi 
 mental surgeons made a practice of sel 
 ling recommendations to furloughs and 
 discharges at a less sum than a shilling 
 a man.* 
 
 Washington finds that affairs were not 
 changing for the better, and the militia 
 were daily so diminishing, that "in a lit 
 tle time I am persuaded," he writes, " their 
 number will be very inconsiderable." He 
 found it impossible to check the desire of 
 these men to return to their homes. Al 
 though he refused to give them their dis 
 charge, they insisted upon going, and did 
 go, so fast, that in a few days the Con 
 necticut militia were reduced from six to 
 less than two thousand ! Washington was 
 forced to acquiesce in these shameful de 
 sertions, which, however, greatly harassed 
 him. 
 
 In the meantime, little could be done, 
 either for offence or defence. General 
 Mercer was, however, ordered to detach 
 a force from Amboy, where he was sta 
 tioned, to take possession of and strength 
 en the works on the Jersey bank of the 
 Hudson, called Fort Constitution, and sub 
 sequently Fort Lee, opposite Fort Wash 
 ington on the New-York side. Wash- 
 
 * Gordon. 
 
340 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART it. 
 
 ington, moreover, as he thought it " ex 
 pedient to guard against every contin 
 gency," and that he might have resources 
 left if obliged to abandon New York, be 
 gan to remove all the stores, not imme 
 diately wanted, above Kingsbridge. The 
 evacuation of the city was now, in fact, 
 a subject of constant talk and considera 
 tion. The probability of such an event, 
 and the possibility of the destruction of 
 New York, had been discussed in Con 
 gress, which hurried to pass and send to 
 the commander-in-chief this resolution : 
 " Resolved, That General Washington be 
 acquainted that Congress would have spe 
 cial care taken, in case he should find it 
 necessary to quit New York, that no dam 
 age be done to the said city by his troops 
 on their leaving it ; the Congress having 
 no doubt of their being able to recover 
 the same, though the enemy should for 
 a time obtain possession of it." 
 
 As the British were closing in with 
 their ships, and extending their encamp 
 ments along the Long-island shore of the 
 East river, there was reason to suppose 
 that they intended to make a landing 
 above or below Kingsbridge, in order to 
 hem in the American army, and cut off its 
 communication with the country. This 
 called for prompt action ; and Washing 
 ton immediately summoned a council of 
 war, to fix upon some system of conduct 
 to be pursued, in order to baffle the ef 
 forts and counteract the schemes of Gen 
 eral Howe, and also to determine as to 
 the expediency of evacuating or attempt 
 ing to maintain the city and the several 
 posts on the island of New York. 
 
 The council of general officers rnet, ac 
 
 cording to the summons.* There 
 
 , . . Sept. 7, 
 
 was a division of opinion. JJut 
 
 all agreed that New-York city would not 
 be tenable if the enemy resolved to bom 
 bard and cannonade it. Some, howev 
 er (not a little influenced in their opin 
 ion by the supposition that Congress de 
 sired it to be maintained at every haz 
 ard), were opposed to the evacuation. 
 Others strongly advocated the immedi 
 ate and total abandonment of the town. 
 This was the opinion of General Greene, 
 who strenuously presented it in a letter 
 to the commander-in-chief two days be 
 fore the assembling of the council. " The 
 object under consideration is," he writes, 
 " whether a general and speedy ^etreat 
 from the island is necessary or not. To 
 me it appears the only eligible plan to 
 oppose the enemy successfully and secure 
 ourselves from disgrace. I think we have 
 no object on this side of Kingsbridge. 
 Our troops are now so scattered, that one 
 part may be cut off before the others can 
 come to their support. In this situation 
 suppose the enemy should send up the 
 North river several ships of force, and a 
 number of transports at the same time, 
 and effect a landing between the town 
 and the middle division of the army ; 
 that another party from Long island 
 should land directly opposite ; and that 
 these two parties should form a line 
 across the island and intrench themselves. 
 The two flanks of this line could be easi 
 ly supported by the shipping. The cen 
 tre, fortified with the redoubts, would ren- 
 
 * Among them were some of those lately promoted : for 
 Congress had appointed Heath, Spencer, Greene, and Sul 
 livan, major-generals; and James Reed. Nixon, St. Clair, 
 M Dougall, Parsons, and James Clinton, hrigadier-generals. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 A COMPROMISE. 
 
 der it very difficult, if not impossible, to 
 cut our way through. At the time the 
 enemy are executing this movement, they 
 will be able to make sufficient diversions, 
 if not real lodgments, to render it impos 
 sible for the centre and upper divisions 
 of the army to afford any assistance here. 
 Should this event take place and, by- 
 the-by, I do not think it very improbable 
 your excellency will be reduced to that 
 situation, which every prudent general 
 would wish to avoid : that is, of beino; 
 
 " S 
 
 obliged to fight the enemy at a disadvan 
 tage, or submit." Greene went even fur 
 ther, and advised the destruction of New 
 York. "I would burn the city and its 
 suburbs," he says, and thinks that they 
 should net be put into competition with 
 the general interests of America, for " two 
 thirds of the property of the city and the 
 suburbs belong to the tories." 
 
 Putnam, too, agreed with Greene, while 
 Mercer, Spencer, Heath, and Clinton, were 
 of the opposite opinion. Washington him 
 self was evidently in favor of evacuation. 
 " It is now extremely obvious," he says, 
 "from all intelligence, from their move 
 ments, and every other circumstance, that 
 having landed their whole army on Long 
 island, except about four thousand on 
 Staten island, they mean to enclose us on 
 the island of New York, by taking post 
 in our rear, while the shipping effectual 
 ly secures the front ; and thus, either 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." 
 With this view of the enemy s tactics, 
 Washington, while considering the best 
 means of opposing them, says it is " im 
 possible to forget that history, our own ex 
 perience, the advice of our ablest friends 
 in Europe, the fears of the enemy, and 
 even the declarations of Congress, demon 
 strate that on our side the war should be. 
 defensive (it has even been called a war 
 of posts) ; that we should on all occasions 
 avoid a general action ; riot put anything 
 to risk, unless compelled by a necessity 
 into which we ought never to be drawn. 
 With these views," he oontinues, " and 
 being fully persuaded that it would be pre 
 sumption 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." 
 
 A compromise was finally agreed upon 
 between these extreme opinions, and it 
 was determined by the council to arrange 
 the army under three divisions : five thou 
 sand to remain for the defence of the city; 
 nine thousand to be stationed at Kino-s- 
 
 O 
 
 bridge and its neighborhood, in order not 
 only to secure the posts there, but to be 
 ready to attack the enemy, who were 
 moving eastward on Long island, if they 
 should attempt to land ; and the rest of 
 the army to occupy the intermediate 
 space, in readiness to support either di 
 vision above or below. 
 
 Washington immediately proceeded to 
 put into execution these plans. He made 
 preparation to shift his own headquarters 
 to Kingsbridge. Rough Avooden struc 
 tures were ordered to be built there for 
 the troops, and the sick removed from 
 
342 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_PAUT IT. 
 
 New York to Orangetown, in New Jersey. 
 The enemy, although hourly and anx 
 iously expected to begin their manoeu 
 vres, seemed to hesitate, probably await 
 
 ing the issue of the interview just about 
 to take place between Lord Howe and 
 the committee appointed by Congress to 
 meet him on Staten island. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The Result of Sullivan s Mission. Franklin. Adams, and Rutledge, sent to meet Lord flowc and hie Brother. Lord 
 Howe s Honeyed Words to Franklin. Franklin s Stinging Answer. The Journey of the American Commissioner :. 
 The Scenes on the Road. The Incidents of a Night. Adams and Franklin Bedfellows. Franklin s Theory of 
 Colds. Arrival at Amboy The Hostage. Interview with Lord Howe. The House, as it now appears. His Lord 
 ship s Hospitality. The Business of the Conference. The Discussion. The Result. Sullivan s Mission a "Fool s 
 Errand." Washington s Opinion. 
 
 1776, 
 
 GENERAL SULLIVAN had arrived at 
 
 Philadelphia, in his capacity of em- 
 bassador from Lord Howe, and, having 
 laid before Congress the verbal message 
 of his lordship, was requested to reduce 
 it to writing. This having been done, 
 Congress, after a long discussion, resolved 
 that they could not send any of their 
 members in a private capacity ; but were 
 willing, as they were desirous of an hon 
 orable peace, to appoint a committee to 
 wait upon his lordship, who might receive 
 them in whatever character he pleased. 
 Benjamin Franklin of Pennsylvania, John 
 Adams of Massachusetts, and John Rut- 
 ledge of South Carolina, were accordingly 
 chosen in fulfilment of these resolutions. 
 They immediately set out to meet Lord 
 Howe on Staten island. 
 
 A private letter had already been writ 
 ten to Franklin by his lordship, who had 
 stated the object of his mission, and ex 
 pressed to his " old acquaintance and wor 
 thy friend," whom he had known in Lon 
 
 don, his earnest desire to hav< it success 
 fully accomplished. Franklin s answer 
 was somewhat pungent, but seemed justi 
 fied by the apparent desire of Lord Howe 
 to obtain his concurrence in a movement 
 which no American patriot could believe 
 was favorable to the interests of his coun 
 try :- 
 
 "Directing pardons," writes Franklin, 
 "to be offered to the colonies, who are 
 the very parties injured, expresses indeed 
 that opinion of our ignorance, baseness, 
 and insensibility, which your uninformed 
 and proud nation has long been pleased 
 to entertain of us ; but it can have no 
 other effect than that of increasing our 
 resentments. It is impossible we should 
 think of submission to a government that 
 has, with the most wanton barbarity and 
 cruelty, burnt our defenceless towns in 
 the midst of winter; excited the savages 
 to massacre our peaceful farmers, and our 
 slaves to murder their masters ; and is 
 even now bringing foreign mercenaries 
 
REVOI.TTTIONAKY.] 
 
 A PUNGENT LETTER OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 343 
 
 to deluge our settlements with blood. 
 These atrocious injuries have extinguish 
 ed every spark of affection for that pa 
 rent-country we once held so dear. But 
 were it possible for us to forget and for 
 give them, it is not possible for yon (I 
 mean the British nation) to forgive the 
 people you have so heavily injured 
 
 " Your lordship may possibly remem 
 ber the tears of joy that wet my cheek, 
 when, at your good sister s in London, 
 you once gave expectations that a recon 
 ciliation might soon take place. I had 
 the misfortune to find these expectations 
 disappointed, and to be treated as the 
 cause of the mischief I was laboring to 
 prevent. My consolation under that 
 groundless and malevolent treatment 
 was, that I retained the friendship of 
 many wise and good men in that coun 
 try ; and, among the rest, some share in 
 the regard of Lord Howe. 
 
 " The well-founded esteem, and permit 
 me to say affection, which I shall always 
 have for your lordship, make it painful 
 to me to see you engaged in conducting 
 a war, the great ground of which, as de 
 scribed in your letter, is the necessity of 
 preventing American trade from passing 
 into foreign channels. To me it seems 
 neither the obtaining nor retaining any 
 trade, how valuable soever, is an object 
 for which men may justly spill each oth 
 er s blood ; that the true and sure means 
 of extending and securing commerce are 
 the goodness and cheapness of commodi 
 ties ; and that the profits of no trade can 
 be ever equal to the expense of compel 
 ling and holding it by fleets and armies. 
 I consider this war against us, therefore, 
 
 as both unjust and unwise ; and 1 am per 
 suaded that cool and dispassionate pos 
 terity will condemn to infamy those who 
 advised it ; and that even success will not 
 save from some degree of dishonor those 
 who have voluntarily engaged to conduct 
 it. 
 
 " I know your great motive in coming 
 hither, was the hope of being instrumen 
 tal in a reconciliation ; and I believe, 
 when you find that to be impossible, on 
 any terms given you to propose, you will 
 then relinquish so odious a command, and 
 return to a more honorable private sta 
 tion." 
 
 With such preliminaries, his lordship 
 could not have much hope of a success 
 ful negotiation with Franklin. We shall 
 find that his associates, Adams and Rut- 
 ledge, were no less inflexible in their spir 
 it of patriotic independence. 
 
 The committee finally set out on their 
 journey, Franklin and Rutledge 
 driving in a " chair," and Adams 
 riding on horseback. On the first night 
 they reached Brunswick, in New Jersey, 
 where they lodged at an inn. They had 
 now an opportunity of seeing something 
 of the soldiery, about whom they had 
 lately received so many complaints while 
 in Congress. There were numbers, both 
 of officers and men, straggling about the 
 roads and loitering in the public houses, 
 whose conduct and condition were such 
 as not to inspire very sanguine hopes of 
 the country s cause intrusted to such de 
 fenders. The three patriotic legislators, 
 however, consoled themselves with the 
 expectation that the disorderly military 
 characters which thev had thus encoun- 
 
 Sept, 9, 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 tercd would be " chastised into order in 
 time." 
 
 The taverns at Brunswick were so full 
 of rollicking troopers, that it was difficult 
 to find entertainment, Finally, a single 
 hed was obtained for the joint occupancy 
 of Franklin and Adams, in a chamber lit 
 tle larger than the bed, without a chim 
 ney, and with only one small window. 
 Here they turned in for the night. The 
 window was open ; and Adams, who was 
 an invalid, and afraid of the night air, 
 shut it close. 
 
 " Oh !" cried out Franklin, " do n t shut 
 the window : we shall be suffocated !" 
 
 " I am afraid of the night air," replied 
 Adams. 
 
 Doctor Franklin rejoined : " The air 
 within this chamber will soon be, and 
 indeed is now, worse than that without 
 doors. Come ! open the window, and 
 come to bed, and I will convince you. I 
 believe you are not acquainted with my 
 theory of colds." 
 
 Whereupon, Adams opened the win 
 dow, and, leaping into bed, began a dis 
 cussion with his philosophical bedfellow 
 upon his theory of colds. He had read, 
 Adams said, Franklin s letters to Doctor 
 Cooper, in which he had advanced the 
 opinion that nobody ever got cold by 
 going into a cold church or any other 
 cold air; but he declared it was so in 
 consistent with his experience, that he 
 thought it a paradox. Notwithstanding. 
 Adams added that he was so curious to 
 have Franklin s views, that he would be 
 glad to hear them, even at the risk of a 
 cold. 
 
 The doctor then began a harangue up 
 
 on air and cold, and respiration and per 
 spiration, and with so much profundity 
 of science, that he soon put his bedfellow 
 asleep. " I soon," says Adams, " left him 
 and his philosophy together, but I believe 
 they were equally sound and insensible 
 within a few minutes after me, for the 
 last words I heard were pronounced as 
 if he was more that half asleep." 
 
 The next morning, Kutledge, who prob 
 ably had slept alone, or at any 
 
 u j Sept, 10, 
 
 rate had not enjoyed the honor 
 
 or suffered from the theory of a " philo 
 sophical bedfellow," joined Franklin and 
 Adams, and the three continued their 
 journey to Amboy. On reaching this 
 place, Lord Howe s barge was in waiting 
 to take them over to the opposite shore 
 of Staten island. A British officer had 
 also arrived, who was to give himself up 
 to the Americans as a hostage for the se 
 curity of the committee. Adams, how 
 ever, as soon as he saw him, told his col 
 leagues that he thought it would be child 
 ish to depend upon such a pledge ; and. 
 they agreeing, the three accordingly in 
 sisted upon taking the hostage back again 
 to the island. The officer, declaring that 
 he was at their disposition, could not, of 
 course, refuse to comply, and crossed with 
 the committee. 
 
 As they approached the shore, Lord 
 Howe (having been on the lookout from 
 his house, which stood not far from the 
 water) observed the barge, and immedi 
 ately went down to the water s edge to 
 receive his congressional visiters. On 
 their landing, his lordship, looking at the 
 returned hostage, remarked, " Gentlemen, 
 you make me a very high compliment, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 HOUSE ON WARD S POINT. 
 
 345 
 
 and you may depend upon it I will con 
 sider it as the most sacred of things." 
 
 They then walked up together to the 
 house " between lines of guards of gren 
 adiers, looking fierce as ten furies, and 
 making grimaces and gestures, and mo 
 tions of their muskets," which were sup 
 posed to be in accordance with military 
 etiquette, " but which we neither under 
 stood nor regarded," says the inflexible 
 republican Adams ; who, however, must 
 have been struck with the difference be 
 tween the "grimaces" of the British gren 
 adiers and the "straggling and loitering" 
 of his own undisciplined countrymen on 
 the roads and about the doors of the pub 
 lic houses. 
 
 The house occupied by Lord Howe 
 still stands, a solid stone structure, upon 
 Ward s point. It is a simple farmhouse. 
 Cattle feed peacefully upon the meadow, 
 which stretches from the door to the wa 
 ter s edge. Well-cultivated fields extend 
 back to the road; on the right there is a 
 grove, where school-children in the sum 
 mer time come from the stifling streets 
 of the great city, to enjoy within the 
 shade of the cedars the innocent gayeties 
 of the pic-nic, find to breathe the pure 
 air which blows fresh from sea and land ; 
 beyond, on the opposite shore, crowded 
 town succeeds town; on the water in 
 front, sail-boats and steamers pass and re- 
 pass in bus}^ but peaceful activity; while 
 everywhere upon the island is a calm 
 landscape, varied with hill and wooded 
 vale, and dotted with low cottage-roofs 
 of plain farmers and imposing villas be 
 longing to the opulent merchants of New 
 York. 
 
 44 
 
 The house on Ward s point was then, 
 when visited by the congressional com 
 mittee, the headquarters of Lord Howe. 
 It had been the habitation of military 
 guards, and was as dirty as a stable. His 
 lordship, however, had prepared to do 
 honor to his distinguished guests, and 
 had accordingly got ready a large, hand 
 some room, by spreading a carpet of moss 
 and green sprigs, from bushes and shrubs 
 in the neighborhood, till he made it not 
 only wholesome, but romantically elegant, 
 and entertained his visiters with " good 
 claret, good bread, cold harn, tongues, and 
 mutton." 
 
 While thus sharing Lord Howe s hos 
 pitality, a lively conversation took place, 
 in the course of which his lordship, look 
 ing toward Mr. Adams, expressed in warm 
 terms his gratitude to the state of Massa 
 chusetts for erecting a marble monument 
 in Westminster abbey to his elder broth 
 er, Lord Edward Howe, who fell at Ti- 
 conderoga during the French War. " He 
 esteemed, said he, that honor to his fam 
 ily above all things in this world ; and that 
 such was his gratitude and affection to 
 this country, on that account, that he felt 
 for America as for a brother; and if Amer 
 ica should fall, he should feel and lament 
 it like the loss of a brother." Doctor 
 Franklin, "with an easy air and a collect 
 ed countenance, a bow, a smile, and all 
 that naivete which sometimes appeared in 
 his conversation," replied, " My lord, we 
 will do our utmost endeavors to save 
 your lordship that mortification." The 
 earl s sensibility was not a little wound 
 ed by this unexpected and rather rude 
 shock; but he merely remarked, with his 
 
346 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 usual courtesy, "I suppose you will en 
 deavor to give us employment in Eu 
 rope." 
 
 Lord Howe now turned the conversa 
 tion toward business, and began by say 
 ing that he could confer with his visiters 
 not as members of Congress, but only as 
 private gentlemen and British subjects. 
 Hereupon Mr. Adams quickly rejoined : 
 "Your lordship may consider me in what 
 light you please; and indeed I should be 
 willing to consider myself, for a few mo 
 ments, in any character which would be 
 agreeable to your lordship, except that of 
 a British subject !" At these words, Lord 
 Howe turned to Doctor Franklin and Mr. 
 Rutledge, and said, with a grave arid sol 
 emn air, " Mr. Adams is a decided char 
 acter." 
 
 It must be conceded that his lordship 
 was in a fair way of being roughly han 
 dled by these knotty republicans. He, 
 however, now took care to confine him 
 self to business, and not expose his soft 
 compliments to any further chance of 
 hard usage. The earl then repeated, in 
 a more serious tone, that he could not 
 receive the committee as delegates from 
 Congress; but that, as his powers enabled 
 him to confer and consult with any pri 
 vate gentlemen of influence in the colo 
 nies, on the means of restoring peace be 
 tween the two countries, he was glad of 
 the opportunity of conferring with those 
 present on that subject, if they thought 
 themselves at liberty to enter into a con 
 ference with him. 
 
 The committee replied that their busi 
 ness was to hear, and that his lordship 
 might consider them in what light he 
 
 pleased, and communicate such proposi 
 tions as he was authorized to make; but 
 that they could consider themselves in 
 no other character than that in which 
 they were placed by order of Congress. 
 
 His lordship then spoke at considera 
 ble length, but in all he said there was 
 nothing but this which could be regard 
 ed as an explicit proposition of peace, 
 namely, that the colonies should return 
 to their allegiance and obedience to the 
 government of Great Britain. The rest 
 of the earl s remarks were simply assu 
 rances that there was an exceedingly 
 good disposition on the part of the king 
 and his ministers to make the government 
 easy to its American subjects; and that, 
 in case of their submission, the offensive 
 acts of Parliament should be revised, and 
 the instructions to the governors of the 
 several provinces be reconsidered, in or 
 der that, if any just causes of complaint 
 should be found, they might be removed. 
 
 To this the committee replied that in 
 their opinion a return to the domination 
 of Great Britain was not now to be ex 
 pected, as the colonies had declared them 
 selves independent states, and it was not 
 in the power of Congress to agree for 
 them to return to their former condition 
 of dependence. There was no doubt, how 
 ever, they said, an inclination to peace, 
 and a willingness to enter into a treaty 
 with Great Britain, which might be ad 
 vantageous to both countries. As his 
 lordship had at present no power to treat 
 with them as independent states, he might 
 (if there was the same good disposition 
 on the part of the British government) 
 much sooner obtain fresh powers for such 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 EVACUATION OF NEW YORK. 
 
 a purpose, than could be obtained by Con 
 gress from the several states, to consent 
 to a submission. 
 
 Lord Howe, then remarking that he 
 was sorry to find no accommodation was 
 likely to take place, put an end to the 
 conference. The committee, therefore, 
 took leave of his lordship, and, having 
 passed over by barge to Arnboy, returned 
 through New Jersey, to their duties in 
 Congress. 
 
 Sullivan s mission was generally con 
 sidered a "fool s errand." Adams expres 
 ses himself emphatically upon this point. 
 He says: "The conduct of General Sulli 
 van, in consenting to come to Philadel 
 phia, upon so confused an errand from 
 Lord Howe though his situation, as a 
 
 prisoner, was a temptation, and may be 
 considered some apology appeared to 
 me to betray such a want of penetration 
 and fortitude, and there was so little pre 
 cision in the information he communi 
 cated, that I felt much resentment, and 
 more contempt, on the occasion, than was 
 perhaps just. The time was extremely 
 critical. The attention of Congress, the 
 army, the states, and the people, ought 
 to have been wholly directed to the de 
 fence of the country. To have it divert 
 ed and relaxed, by such a poor artifice 
 and confused tale, appeared very repre 
 hensible." 
 
 Washington says briefly of the whole 
 affair, " The mode of negotiation pursued 
 by Lord Howe I did not approve of." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Evacuation of New York resolved upon. Hale, the American Spy. His Life, Character, and Fate. The Movement of 
 the British Ships up the East Kiver. The Americans on the March out of New York. Washington s Headquarters. 
 The Morris Home. The Landing of the Enemy. The Flight of the Provincials. Washington s Indignation. 
 Putnam and the Rear-Guard in Danger. Aaron Burr comes to the Rescue. The Enemy too late. Escape of Put 
 nam and his Force. The British arrive in Full Strength. An Agreeable but Expensive Visit. " Mrs. Murray saves 
 the American Army." The British take Possession of New York. The Action on the Plains of Harlem. Death of 
 Knowlton and Leitch. 
 
 1776, 
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON, having re 
 ceived a despatch on the 12th of 
 September from President Hancock, sta 
 ting that it was by no means the sense 
 of Congress that the army or any part of 
 it should remain in the city of New York 
 a moment longer than he should think it 
 proper for the public service, was left to 
 act according to his own judgment. His 
 
 opinion, as we have seen, was evidently 
 in favor of evacuating the town; and he 
 was now confirmed in his views by a pe 
 tition, signed by seven of his general offi 
 cers, headed by General Greene, who 
 urged the calling of a council of war, to 
 decide upon such action as the circum 
 stances seemed to require. A council 
 was accordingly summoned ; and it was 
 
348 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Sept, 12, 
 
 determined, by a majority of ten 
 
 out of the thirteen present, that 
 the removal of the army was not only 
 prudent, but absolutely necessary, as they 
 were entirely convinced, from a full and 
 minute inquiry into their situation, that 
 it was extremely perilous: for it appeared 
 from every movement of the enemy, and 
 the intelligence received, that their plan 
 of operations was to get in the rear of 
 the Americans, and, by cutting off the 
 communication with the mainland, oblige 
 them to force a passage through the Brit 
 ish lines, or to become prisoners in some 
 short time, for want of necessary supplies 
 of provisions. 
 
 Anxious to have more explicit infor 
 mation of the condition and the intended 
 movements of the enemy, it was deter 
 mined to send a spy into the British camp 
 on Long island. Colonel Knowlton was 
 requested by Washington to obtain some 
 one from his regiment, which had a high 
 character for its daring, to undertake this 
 perilous duty. Captain NATHAN HALE, a 
 young Connecticut officer, immediately 
 volunteered his services, and, being pro 
 vided by Washington with an order to 
 the commanders of all American vessels 
 to convey him wherever he desired to go, 
 set out. Crossing the sound, Hale reached 
 Huntington, on Long island, and thence 
 proceeded to the British camp, where, by 
 skilfully avoiding suspicion, he gathered 
 such information as he had sought. He 
 now returned to Huntington, and was 
 about recrossing to New York, when he 
 was arrested by a British guard, and, be 
 ing taken before General Howe and ex 
 amined, condemned to die. When Howe 
 
 removed his headquarters to New York, 
 Hale was brought over from Long island 
 and confined in the greenhouse attached 
 to the Beekman mansion, on the East 
 river, of which the British commander- 
 in-chief had taken possession in the ab 
 sence of its patriotic owner. Hale was 
 treated with great severity. Pronounced 
 guilty without the form of a trial, he was 
 not even allowed the usual privileges of 
 a condemned criminal. His bible was 
 taken from him, the presence of a cler 
 gyman denied him, and his last written 
 words to his mother and sisters were de 
 stroyed. He was led out to be hanged, 
 and, as he stood beneath the fatal tree,* 
 he said, " I only lament that I have but 
 one life to lose for my country." Hale 
 was young, and full of patriotic enthusi 
 asm. He had left Yale college but three 
 years before, and had, by his zeal for 
 study, given great promise of distinction 
 in the higher walks of civil life. His ar 
 dent temperament was, however, greatly 
 inflamed by the wrongs of his country ; 
 and when the Revolutionary struggle be 
 gan, he threw aside his books, and took 
 up the sword with the patriotic resolute 
 ness of a young Brutus. 
 
 Four ships-of-war, two of forty and two 
 of twenty-eight guns, had moved up the 
 East river, and anchored about 
 a mile above the city. The fort 
 at Governor s island, now in possession 
 of the British, kept up a brisk cannonade, 
 and the ships were pouring broadside 
 after broadside upon the works at New 
 
 * " He was hanged upon an apple-tree in Rutgers or 
 chard, near the present intersection of East Broadway and 
 Market street." LOSSINQ. 
 
 Sept. 13. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 REMOVING STORES. 
 
 340 
 
 York, as they sailed with a gentle breeze 
 slowly up the river. The Americans re 
 turned the fire, and Washington was ri 
 ding on horseback from point to point, 
 encouraging the cannonade. As he was 
 entering one of the forts, a ball fell within 
 six feet of his horse ; and another struck 
 down and killed with one blow three citi 
 zens who were looking with idle curiosi 
 ty upon the scene. General Howe had 
 also landed a considerable body of his 
 troops upon Buchanan s and Montressor s 
 (now Ward s and Randall s) islands, in the 
 East river, off the mouth of the Harlem 
 river. 
 
 Six more of the enemy s ships, trans 
 ports, and men-of-war, now joined the 
 other British vessels in the East river. 
 Soon an express came hurriedly to Wash 
 ington at his headquarters, with word 
 from Colonel Sargent at Horen s Hook, 
 that the enemy had crossed with large 
 reinforcements to the encampment on 
 Montressor s island; and again, immedi 
 ately after, another messenger rode in, 
 with a despatch from General Mifflin, sta 
 ting that he discovered "uncommon and 
 formidable movements" among the Brit 
 ish troops. Washington at once galloped 
 to Harlem and Morrisania, where he sup 
 posed the principal attempt to land would 
 be made. Nothing, however, was done 
 until next day. 
 
 In the meantime, the measures deter 
 mined upon by the council of war were 
 being carried out with all possible de 
 spatch. The first movement was, to get 
 the sick, the ordnance, the stores, and the 
 provisions, safely away from the city. 
 Colonel Glover and his ready-handed 
 
 Marblehead fishermen were especially 
 employed for that service. The work 
 was begun late at night. An attack from 
 the enemy was expected every moment. 
 Some five hundred sick were, however, 
 safely carried over the river to New Jer 
 sey, without interruption, before sunrise 
 next morning. On the following day, 
 Glover with his active brigade was back 
 again to the city, at work from morning 
 until late at night, in striking the tents 
 and carrying the heavy stores and ord 
 nance to the water s side, ready to be 
 transported by boats up the North river ; 
 while wagons were loaded with the light 
 baggage, prepared to start by land. The 
 commander-in-chief was anxiously await 
 ing the result of Glover s labors. "I fully 
 expected," he writes on the 14th of Sep 
 tember, "that an attack somewhere would 
 be made last night. In that I was disap 
 pointed ; and happy shall I be, if my ap 
 prehensions of one to-night, or in a day 
 or two, are not confirmed by the event. 
 If it is deferred a little while longer, I 
 flatter myself all will be got away, and 
 our force be more concentrated, and of 
 course more likely to resist them with 
 success." 
 
 Washington had already moved the 
 main body of his army, which 
 had been principally stationed 
 along Turtle and Kip s bays (leaving, how 
 ever, a force of militia to guard the works 
 at those points), to the upper part of the 
 island. General Putnam had been left 
 with four thousand men within the city, 
 as a rear-guard to protect the removal of 
 the stores, and with orders to close up 
 with the rest of the army whenever he 
 
 Sept, 13. 
 
350 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 should find it necessary, from any move 
 ment of the British. 
 
 The chief himself took possession of the 
 mansion of Colonel Roger Morris, his old 
 companion-in-arms under Braddock, and 
 his successful rival for the hand of the rich 
 Mary Philipse. Morris had, since his mar 
 riage, made America his home, and had 
 retired to his beautiful country-seat, in 
 the enjoyment, as he hoped, of a secure 
 retreat for life. On the possession of the 
 island of New York by the American ar 
 my, however, he was obliged to abandon 
 his home, and seek safety at the house of 
 his brother-in-law, Beverly Robinson, in 
 the Highlands. 
 
 The Morris mansion still stands, upon 
 the high ground which rises from the 
 marshy margin of Harlem river ; and, not 
 withstanding the ambitious city already 
 claims it as its own, and fixes it with nu 
 merical precision in "one hundred and 
 sixty-ninth street," it yet retains in its 
 situation much of its former picturesque 
 beauty. Standing upon the heights of 
 Harlem, it commands an extensive view 
 of land and water. At the base of the 
 hill upon which the house is built, flows 
 the Harlem river, where it is spanned by 
 the High-bridge aqueduct, through which 
 runs a stream (drunk up by the daily 
 thirst of the great city) more copious 
 than the whole river below ! Toward 
 New York are the plains of Harlem, up 
 on which houses now are crowded, but 
 which then were green meadows and not 
 seldom bloody battle-fields. Beyond, to 
 the east, is the sound, now enlivened by 
 steamboats and the peaceful sails of com 
 merce, but then gloomy with threatening 
 
 men-of-war. The Morris mansion was 
 then all astir with the busy activity of a 
 commander-in-chief s headquarters : it is 
 now the solitary dwelling of an eccentric 
 Frenchwoman,* the widow of Aaron Burr. 
 
 The American chief s apprehensions of 
 an attack were proved to be well found 
 ed. Early in the morning which succeed 
 ed the night when he had been hastily 
 summoned to Harlem, the enemy began 
 their operations. Three ships-of-war sailed 
 up the North river as high as Blooming- 
 dale, and thus put a total stop to the re 
 moval (which Colonel Glover from an ear 
 ly hour had begun) of the heavy baggage 
 by water. As the day advanced, the fleet 
 in the East river began also with a most 
 severe and heavy cannonade to " scour 
 the country," and thus cover the landing 
 of a large body of British troops. 
 
 As soon as he caught the sound of the 
 firing, Washington hurried to the breast 
 works between Turtle bay and Kip s bay, 
 where some militia had been left to guard 
 them, and where the enemy were now 
 landing. He found to his " great surprise 
 and mortification" the troops which had 
 been posted in the lines retreating with 
 the utmost precipitation ; and Parsons 
 and Fellows Connecticut brigades, which 
 had been ordered to support them, flying 
 in every direction and in the greatest con 
 fusion, notwithstanding the exertions of 
 their generals to form them. Washington 
 rode up, and, finding his own attempts to 
 stop the fugitives fruitless, was so indig 
 nant at their cowardice, that he drew his 
 sword, threatened to run them through, 
 and cocked and snapped his pistols at 
 
 * Madame Jumcl. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 WASHINGTON IN A RAGE. 
 
 351 
 
 the "scoundrels." He used every means 
 in his power to rally them, but his efforts 
 proved ineffectual; and when a small par 
 ty of the enemy, not more than sixty or 
 seventy, made their appearance, the dis 
 order of the cravens increased, and they 
 continued to run away, without firing a 
 single shot, leaving Washington himself 
 in so hazardous a situation, that his at 
 tendants, to extricate him, caught the 
 bridle of his horse and gave him a differ 
 ent direction. There he was, within eigh 
 ty yards of the enemy, "so vexed," wrote 
 General Greene, " at the infamous con 
 duct of his troops, that he sought death 
 rather than life." Washington dashed 
 his hat upon the ground, and cried out, 
 almost in despair, as he beheld the flight 
 of his soldiers, "Are these the men with 
 whom I am to defend America!" 
 
 The cowardly militia continued their 
 headlong scamper across the island until 
 they were met by Colonel Glover with 
 his spirited Marblehead men and other 
 troops, who had been suddenly called 
 away from their works, to come to the 
 defence of the posts on the eastern part 
 of the city. The fugitives, encouraged or 
 shamed by the presence of these steady 
 brigades of Glover, now halted, and, be 
 ing formed in rank, marched on along the 
 Bloomingdale road, and took post on the 
 heights of Harlem. 
 
 Cheered by the presence of the more 
 regular troops, the militia seemed eager 
 to redeem their tarnished valor, and would 
 have faced about at once to attack the 
 approaching British, who now appeared, 
 coming up in large force. Washington 
 at first encouraged this newly-awakened 
 
 zeal, and ordered them to give battle to 
 the enemy; but, after a moment s reflec 
 tion upon their late conduct, he natural 
 ly distrusted their courage, and counter 
 manded the order. 
 
 The chief s great anxiety was now for 
 Putnam and his rear-guard, who were still 
 within New York, and in imminent dan 
 ger of being hemmed in by the enemy, 
 as they thronged upon the shore, and 
 prepared to stretch their lines across the 
 island. Washington immediately sent an 
 express to Putnam, ordering him to hast 
 en away from his perilous position ; and, 
 fearful lest the British might pass over 
 from the East river to Harlem plains, and 
 cut off the retreat of that part of the ar 
 my still in the city, he ordered the heights 
 of Harlem to be secured in the best man 
 ner by the troops which were stationed 
 on or near them. 
 
 Putnam, finding that the enemy had 
 landed and taken possession of the main 
 roads which led from the city to the up 
 per part of the island where Washington 
 had extended his lines, was greatly per 
 plexed to discover a means of escape. 
 His aid-de-camp, Major Aaron Burr, ob 
 serving the perplexity of Putnam and 
 his general officers, and being well ac 
 quainted with the ground, suggested a 
 road which led along the North river 
 from Greenwich to Bloomingdale. Put 
 nam now hurriedly abandoned the city, 
 leaving in his necessary haste most of the 
 heavy cannon and a part of the stores 
 and provisions which had been got ready 
 for removal. Taking the road suggested 
 by Burr, the troops were urged on to a 
 rapid march. Putnam would allow of no 
 
352 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 flagging; and he himself was flying about 
 on his horse, covered with foam, and stir 
 ring up the energies of the whole column. 
 The day was stifling hot; the road was 
 in a continued cloud of dust; a large num 
 ber of women and children, who had fol 
 lowed the troops out of the city, embar 
 rassed the march, and the men suffered 
 greatly; but "Old Put," by his own per 
 sonal exertions, infused such a spirit of 
 activity into his men, that they moved 
 on rapidly in spite of every obstacle. 
 
 They were just turning into a cross- 
 path which led from Bloomingdale to 
 Harlem, when an aid-de-camp rode up to 
 Putnam in full speed, to inform him that 
 a column of British infantry was coming 
 up against his right flank. The order for 
 the troops to file to the right with all 
 speed was hardly given, when the enemy 
 came within firing distance of Putnam s 
 rear and opened a volley. One of the 
 colonels fell at the first shot. Some sev 
 enteen men were killed and three hun 
 dred taken prisoners. With no other loss, 
 the troops succeeded just at nightfall in 
 reaching the American lines at Harlem 
 heights. 
 
 Putnam s escape was, however, due to 
 a fortunate incident, which shows how 
 great events may often be traced to the 
 most trifling causes. The British troops 
 had landed in large force, and to the num 
 ber of some eight thousand were stretch 
 ing across the island. Having put to flight 
 the militia who had so ignominiously de 
 serted their posts at Turtle and Kip s bays, 
 the enemy halted temporarily before ex 
 tending their lines as they designed, and 
 by which they would have certainly cut 
 
 off Putnam s retreat. The day, as before 
 observed, was hot, and the British gener 
 als were thirsty: so Governor Tryon, well 
 acquainted with the ground, volunteered 
 to guide them to a place where good re 
 freshments might be secured. He accord 
 ingly took them to the country-house of 
 a Mr. Robert Murray, a patriotic Quaker, 
 who lived on Murray hill, near by. On 
 entering, they were met, in the absence 
 of her husband, by the wife, who cour 
 teously received her visiters, and offered 
 them the best cheer she had. Wine and 
 cake were served up in abundance ; and 
 the thirsty and gallant British officers, 
 gratified with the good Madeira, and 
 charmed with the courtesies of their host 
 ess, were disposed to linger. Tryon was 
 in the most jovial humor, as the morn 
 ing s work so far had been a great suc 
 cess ; and he was particularly pleasant 
 when bantering Mrs. Murray, who was a 
 devoted patriot, upon the conduct of her 
 American friends. 
 
 Hour after hour was passed delight 
 fully. While Mrs. Murray was thus suc 
 cessful in entertaining her British guests, 
 she was saving her American friends; for 
 while Tryon was joking the hostess, and 
 Clinton and his officers were drinking her 
 wine, their troops were resting on their 
 arms, and giving Putnam and his men 
 \vho were only a mile from them an 
 opportunity of escape. It was ever after 
 the remark in the patriot camp that "Mrs. 
 Murray saved the American army." 
 
 The British now took possession of the 
 city with a large detachment of troops 
 under General Kobertson; while the main 
 body of the army, under General Howe f 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF HARLEM. 
 
 353 
 
 encamped on the outskirts of the town. 
 The line which bounded the British camp 
 at the north extended from Horen s Hook 
 on the East river, across the island to 
 Bloomingdale on the Hudson, and was at 
 once protected by breastworks and bat 
 teries. Behind were posted a strong body 
 of Hessians, under De Heister, and anoth 
 er of British, under Earl Percy ; while 
 each flank, on the right and the left of 
 this large body of troops, was protected by 
 the English men-of-war, at anchor in both 
 rivers which bound the island. Harlem 
 plains spread for more than a mile in 
 width between the British and the en 
 campment of Washington s army. The 
 former numbered nearly twenty-five thou 
 sand, while the latter had not more than 
 fourteen thousand fit for duty, so reduced 
 were the American troops by sickness 
 and desertion. 
 
 The front line of the Americans em 
 braced the heights of Harlem, which ex 
 tend from the river of that name to the 
 Hudson. About a quarter of a mile be 
 yond, to the north, was another line ; and 
 about the same distance still beyond was 
 Washington s headquarters at the Morris 
 mansion. Again, at the distance of a 
 mile farther to the north, stood Fort 
 Washington, on the North river, held by 
 a strong garrison of Americans. King s 
 bridge, which crossed the Harlem river 
 at the most northern part of the island, 
 some eight miles from the city, and was 
 the only communication with the main 
 land, was also defended by a detachment 
 of Washington s troops. 
 
 The Americans, however, had posted 
 two advanced guards of considerable force 
 45 
 
 Sept, 16. 
 
 between their front and that of the Brit 
 ish one at M Gowan s pass, and the oth 
 er at Harlem. The former was command 
 ed by Putnam and the latter by Spencer. 
 
 The enemy were not long in making a 
 demonstration. Washington was expect 
 ing an attack, and wrote these 
 words : " We are now encamped 
 with the main body of the army on the 
 heights of Harlem, where I should hope 
 the enemy would meet with a defeat in 
 case of an attack, if the generality of our 
 troops could behave with tolerable brave 
 ry. But experience, to my extreme af 
 fliction, has convinced me that this is 
 rather to be wished for than expected. 
 However, I trust that there are many 
 who will act like men, and show them 
 selves worthy of the blessings of free 
 dom." The letter which contained this 
 sentence had just been despatched by the 
 post, when word was brought that the 
 enemy had appeared in several large bod 
 ies upon the plains of Harlem. Washing 
 ton immediately galloped from his head 
 quarters to the advanced posts, a distance 
 of about two and a half miles, and dis 
 covered that a small company of Con 
 necticut rangers, under the brave Colonel 
 Knowlton, were already engaged with an 
 advanced party of the enemy, who were 
 reported to be only three hundred strong. 
 
 Washington now ordered Major Leitch, 
 with three companies of Weedon s Vir 
 ginia regiment, to advance to the aid of 
 Knowlton ; and directed that they should 
 try to get in the rear of the enemy, while 
 they made a feint of attacking them in 
 front. The last part of the order was 
 faithfully obeyed ; and the British, seeing 
 
354 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 the Americans in considerable force com 
 ing directly upon them as they supposed, 
 ran down the hill and took possession of 
 some fences and bushes, under the cover 
 of which they stood and began a smart 
 fire, but with little execution, as they were 
 at such a distance. The Americans now 
 made a circuit as they advanced, but com 
 menced their attack too soon, and thus 
 made it rather in flank than in rear. A 
 severe engagememt ensued, and Major 
 Leitch fell almost immediately, severely 
 wounded with three balls in his side, and 
 was carried off the field. He was soon 
 followed by Colonel Knowlton, who had 
 been shot through the head. 
 
 The men,however, persevered,and con 
 tinued the engagement with the greatest 
 resolution. Washington,find ing that they 
 wanted a support, advanced some of the 
 Maryland and New-England troops at 
 hand to their aid. These charged the 
 enemy with great intrepidity, and drove 
 them from the wood where they had 
 sought a cover, into the plain ; and had 
 succeeded in nearly silencing their fire, 
 when Washington, expecting that large 
 reinforcements would be sent to the aid 
 of the British, withdrew his troops. 
 
 Colonel Knowlton died of his wounds 
 soon after the engagement ; and, " when 
 gasping in the agonies of death, all his 
 
 Sept, 17. 
 
 inquiry was whether we had driven in 
 the enemy." He was "a brave and a 
 good officer," said Washington in one of 
 his letters ; and in the order of the day 
 he did not forget to do public honor to 
 his gallantry, as well as to that of Major 
 Leitch and all their brave soldiers : " The 
 general most heartily thanks the 
 troops commanded yesterday by 
 Major Leitch who first advanced upon 
 the enemy, and the others who so reso 
 lutely supported them. The behavior of 
 yesterday was such a contrast to that of 
 some troops the day before, as must show 
 what may be done where officers and sol 
 diers exert themselves. Once more, there 
 fore, the general calls upon officers and 
 men to act up to the noble cause in which 
 they are engaged, and to support the hon 
 or and liberties of their country. The 
 gallant and brave Colonel Knowlton, who 
 would have been an honor to any coun 
 try, having fallen yesterday while glori 
 ously fighting, Captain Brown is to take 
 the command of the party lately led by 
 Colonel Knowlton." 
 
 The name of Leitch was given as the 
 parole for the next day ;* but the hero 
 who bore it only lived for a short time 
 to enjoy the good fame he had acquired 
 by his gallant conduct. 
 
 * Irviug. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 NEW YORK ON FIRE. 
 
 355 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 New York on Fire. Who were the Incendiaries? The British Accounts. The Ravage. "Our General." His own 
 Account of the Enterprise against Montressor s Island. A Failure. Reorganization of the American Army. Wash 
 ington urges the Enactment of more Rigorous Laws. Congress slowly consents. Inactivity of General Howe. The 
 Abounding Tories. Oliver Delancey. His Life and Character. His Influence. Plans to counteract it. Major 
 Rogers and his Rangers. His Career. His Cunning. The Americans eager to catch Him. 
 
 1776, 
 
 IN the middle of the night of the 
 20th of September, the guards on 
 the advanced pickets of the American 
 line beheld a great light in the direction 
 of the city, apparently rising at a distance 
 of nine miles. Soon it became so intense 
 and wide spread, that " for a considerable 
 extent the heavens appeared in flames."* 
 It was thought that New York was on 
 fire. This supposition was confirmed on 
 the arrival in camp next day of one of 
 the aid-de-camps of General Howe, with 
 a flag, and a letter to Washington in re 
 gard to the exchange which was about 
 being arranged for General Sullivan, Lord 
 Stirling, and Daniel Morgan, then held 
 as prisoners by the British. The aid-de 
 camp spoke of the great extent of the 
 conflagration in the city, and stated that 
 several Americans had been punished 
 with death as incendiaries, some by hang 
 ing, and others by burning on the spot, 
 who were caught in the act. 
 
 A number of incendiaries, according to 
 the British accounts, had stayed behind, 
 on the evacuation of New York by Wash 
 ington, and concealed themselves in the 
 houses. Combustibles had been careful 
 ly prepared ; and, taking advantage of a 
 
 * Gray don. 
 
 brisk gale of wind, these desperadoes be 
 gan their work about midnight, when 
 most of the citizens and troops were bu 
 ried in sleep. But when the spreading 
 flames gave the alarm, the soldiers were 
 beat to quarters, detachments of sailors 
 from the fleet were landed, and, after a 
 hard struggle, the fire was stayed, though 
 not before it had reduced nearly a third 
 part of the fair city to ruins. It was 
 then that some of the incendiaries were 
 "caught in the act," and were either de 
 spatched by the sword or bayonet, or 
 thrown into the flames which " they had 
 kindled" by the " infuriated soldiery." In 
 furiated soldiers are not apt to be very 
 calm investigators of a charge of crime, 
 when the suspected persons chance to be 
 long to the enemy. Fortunately, there 
 were other less partial observers, whose 
 testimony is much more satisfactory and 
 convincing. They all agree in attribu 
 ting the conflagration to accident. 
 
 C5 O 
 
 The fire was discovered about midnight, 
 first breaking out at the lower end of the 
 city, near the wharf of Whitehall, in a 
 small wooden building, a miserable pot 
 house and brothel, resorted to by sailors. 
 Most of the houses were either of wood 
 or of brick covered with shingles; the 
 
356 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_FART II. 
 
 weather had been dry for a long time, 
 and on the night of the fire a brisk south 
 wind was blowing. Few citizens had been 
 left in town ; and the fire-engines, pumps, 
 and leathern buckets, were either out of 
 order from neglect, or not readily to be 
 got at or worked from the absence of those 
 who knew where to find or how to use 
 them. The flames spread rapidly, licking 
 up house after house along the narrow 
 streets, and, stirred by the blast of the 
 strong southerly wind, went on ravaging 
 in every direction. Whitehall and Broad 
 streets were soon in ruins, and then Bea 
 ver; finally Broadway was swept from 
 left to right ; the old church of Trinity,* 
 erected at the beginning of the century, 
 caught, and was left in a short time a gut 
 ted ruin from the pinnacle of its tall spire 
 to the lowest step of its porch ; the fire 
 raged on, and the "new" church of St. 
 Paul was in peril. Now, however, the 
 sailors from Lord Howe s fleet and the 
 soldiers from the camp, turning out at 
 beat of drum from their night-quarters, 
 came to the rescue. The fire at length 
 was stayed, but not before nearly five 
 hundred houses were laid in ashes. Wash 
 ington, in speaking of the fire, says, " By 
 what means it happened we do not know." 
 Even if it were the act of American in 
 cendiaries, it is clear that it was without 
 authority, for it had been resolved by the 
 council of war to leave the city unin 
 jured. 
 
 The American army had been much 
 
 * "Among the buildings consumed," says an English au- 
 ;hority, "was the old English church. When the Ameri 
 cans stationed at Paulas Hook [now Jersey City] saw the 
 Ueeple fall, they gave three cheers, probably rejoicing in a 
 double sense, and more as Presbyterians than as patriots." 
 
 Sept, 22 
 
 encouraged by the spirited conduct and 
 partial success of their comrades under 
 the gallant leadership of Knowlton and 
 Leitch. The soldiers found it required 
 only " resolution and good officers to 
 make an enemy they stood too much in 
 dread of" give way. 
 
 Thus inspirited, the Americans began 
 to be eager for an opportunity to distin 
 guish themselves. General Heath, who 
 boasted himself quite a tactician, found 
 an occasion for the vent of some of the 
 abounding martial spirit of his troops. 
 We shall let " our general," as he calls 
 himself, describe the occurrence : " Two 
 seamen, belonging to the La Brune, a 
 British ship-of-war, which lay near Mon- 
 tressor s [Randall s] island, deserted and 
 came to our general s [Heath s] 
 quarters, and informed him up 
 on examination that the British had then 
 but a few men on the island, stating the 
 number ; that the piece of cannon, which 
 had been put on the island, was taken 
 back again on board the La Brune ; that 
 there were a number of officers at the 
 house, in which there was a considerable 
 quantity of baggage deposited, &c. 
 
 " Our general [Heath] supposed that 
 these troops might be easily taken ; and 
 having called the general officers of his 
 division together, took their opinion, who 
 all coincided with him in sentiment. He 
 then communicated his intention to the 
 commander-in-chief, who gave it his ap 
 probation. Two hundred and forty men 
 were destined for this enterprise. The 
 command was given to Lieutenant-Colo 
 nel Michael Jackson, of the Massachu 
 setts line, with Majors Logan and - 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 "OUR GENERAL." 
 
 357 
 
 (whose name can not be recollected ),* 
 of the New- York troops. They were 
 to embark on board three flat-boats, cov 
 ered by a fourth with a detachment of 
 artillery, with a light three-pounder, in 
 case it should be found necessary in re 
 treating from the island. The mode of 
 attack was settled, and every circum 
 stance seemed to promise success. They 
 were to fall down Harlem creek with the 
 ebb. The time was so calculated, that the 
 young flood was to be so much made at 
 the break of day as to cover the flats at 
 the island sufficiently for the boats to float. 
 " Matters being thus settled, our gen 
 eral ordered the two sailors to be brought 
 in. He then told them that, in conse 
 quence of their information, an enterprise 
 against the British troops on Montressor s 
 island was to take place that night ; that 
 he had ordered them to be kept in safe 
 custody until the next morning, when, if 
 their declarations respecting the state of 
 the British on the island proved to be 
 true, he would give them a passport to 
 the back country, whither they wished 
 to iro : but. in case their information was 
 
 O I 
 
 false, he would order them hanged imme 
 diately as spies ; that he gave them the 
 opportunity, if they had made a wrong 
 statement to him, then to correct it. 
 They both answered, with perfect com 
 posure, that they would cheerfully sub 
 mit to the condition. 
 
 " Major Thomas Henley was now one 
 of our general s aids-de-camp. He impor 
 tuned that he might go with the detach 
 ment. He was refused, and told that he 
 had no business there ; that he could ex- 
 
 * Such is fame ! 
 
 ercise no command. He grew quite im 
 patient, returned again to the general s 
 room, and addressed him : Pray, sir, con 
 sent to my going with the party ; let me 
 have the pleasure of introducing the pris 
 oners to you to-morrow. All his friends 
 present advised him not to go. The gen 
 eral finally consented. 
 
 " The troops, at the hour assigned, em 
 barked. Our general informed them that 
 he, with others, would be spectators of 
 the scene, from a certain point near Har 
 lem creek. Notice had been given to the 
 guards and pickets on the York-island side, 
 not to hail the party as they went down. 
 Unfortunately, the lower sentinel had not 
 been so instructed.* He was nearly oppo 
 site to the point where our general was 
 to be ; and just at the instant when he 
 arrived, had challenged the boats, and or 
 dered them to come to the shore. From 
 the boats they answered, Lo ! we are 
 friends. The challenge was repeated. 
 The answer was, We tell you we are 
 friends hold your tongue ! A bounce 
 into the water was heard ; and instantly 
 Major Henley came wading to the shore., 
 stepped up to our general, catched him 
 by the hand, and said, Sir, will it do ? 
 Our general, holding him by the hand, 
 replied, I see nothing to the contrary ; 
 to which Henley concluded by saying, 
 Then it shall do? He waded back to his 
 boat, and got in. The sentinel called 
 again: If you don t come to the shore, 
 I tell you I ll fire ! A voice from some 
 one in the boats was, Pull away ? 
 
 * It is well for history, that an occasional simple-minded 
 and truthful chronicler like Heath presents himself, who not 
 onlv tells us what he did, but what he ought to have done. 
 
358 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 " The boats went on, and the sentinel 
 fired his piece. The boats reached the 
 island almost at the moment intended, 
 just as the glimmer of the dawn was dis 
 coverable. The three field-officers were 
 in the first boat. Their intention, on the 
 moment of landing, was, for the two sec 
 onds in command to spring, the one to 
 the right and the other to the left, and 
 lead on the troops from the other two 
 boats, which were to land on each side 
 of the first boat. The field-officers land 
 ed, and the men from the boat. The en 
 emy s guard charged them, but were in 
 stantly driven back. The men in the 
 other two boats, instead of landing, lay 
 upon their oars ! The British, seeing this, 
 returned warmly to the charge. The 
 Americans, finding themselves thus de 
 serted, returned to their boat ; but not un 
 til Lieutenant-Colonel Jackson received 
 a musket-ball in his leg, and Major Hen 
 ley, as he was getting into the boat, one 
 through his heart, which put an instant 
 end to his life. The boat joined the oth 
 ers, and they all returned, having in the 
 whole about fourteen killed, wounded, 
 and missing ; Major Henley deeply re 
 gretted."* 
 
 Washington was fully convinced, not 
 withstanding an occasional spirt of spirit, 
 that an entire reorganization of the army 
 was necessary, in order to give it that effi 
 ciency required to sustain a struggle with 
 disciplined troops. The term of service 
 of almost every man was to close in about 
 three mouths, and Washington believed 
 that it would be impossible to induce them 
 to re-enlist without higher pay. " We 
 
 * Heath s Memoirs, pp. 63-66. 
 
 are now," he writes to Congress, 
 
 Sept, 24, 
 
 " as it were upon the eve of an 
 other dissolution of our army. The re 
 membrance of the difficulties which hap 
 pened upon the occasion last year, and 
 the consequences which might have fol 
 lowed the change if proper advantages 
 had been taken by the enemy, added to 
 a knowledge of the present temper and 
 situation of the troops, afford but a very 
 gloomy prospect in the appearance of 
 things now, and satisfy me, beyond the 
 possibility of doubt, that unless some 
 speedy and effectual measures are adopt 
 ed by Congress, our cause will be lost." 
 
 It was useless, thought Washington, to 
 rely upon patriotism for the recruiting of 
 an army. When men are irritated, and 
 their passions are inflamed, they hastily 
 and cheerfully fly to arms ; but when the 
 first ebullition of feeling has subsided, to 
 " expect among such people as compose 
 the bulk of an army, that they are influ 
 enced by any other principles than those 
 of interest, is to look for what never did 
 and I fear never will happen." 
 
 The army should be established upon 
 a permanent footing, and the officers be 
 well paid, in order to induce gentlemen 
 and men of character to engage iu the 
 service. "They ought to have such al 
 lowances," continues Washington, "as will 
 enable them to live like and support the 
 character of gentlemen, and not be driven 
 by a scanty pittance to the low and dirty 
 arts which many of them .practise." He 
 also contends that nothing but a good 
 bounty (as, for example, a hundred acres 
 of land, with a suit of clothes, &c., to each 
 man) can secure permanent soldiers. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 LAWLESS SOLDIERS. 
 
 659 
 
 The officers, too, should stand by char 
 acter and social position in such a rela 
 tion toward the privates as to secure their 
 respect and obedience. " But while," em 
 phatically writes Washington, " the only 
 merit an officer possesses is his ability to 
 raise men while those men consider and 
 treat him as an equal, and, in the charac 
 ter of an officer, regard him no more than 
 a broomstick, being mixed together as 
 one common herd no order nor disci 
 pline can prevail." 
 
 As for placing any dependence upon 
 militia, it is " assuredly resting upon a 
 broken staff Men just dragged from the 
 tender scenes of domestic life, unaccus 
 tomed to the din of arms, totally unac 
 quainted with every kind of military 
 skill, are timid, and ready to fly from 
 their own shadows." 
 
 Some more severe laws for the govern 
 ment of the army are necessary, or else 
 " but for the name," says Washington, " it 
 might as well be abandoned The infa 
 mous practice of plundering" began to pre 
 vail to the most alarming extent. "Un 
 der the idea of tory property, or property 
 that may fall into the hands of the ene 
 my, no man is secure in his effects, and 
 scarcely in his person." The lawless sol 
 diers would frighten quiet citizens out of 
 their houses, under pretence that it had 
 been ordered to burn them, and then en 
 ter and seize the goods ! Washington 
 strove to stop these horrid practices, but 
 with " the lust after pi under, and the want 
 of laws to punish offenders," he might, he 
 declares, " almost as well attempt to move 
 Mount Atlas." To illustrate the difficulty 
 of checking these crimes, he sends to Con 
 
 gress the proceedings of a court-martiaJ 
 which had acquitted an officer who with 
 a party of men had robbed a house, a lit 
 tle beyond the American lines, of a quan 
 tity of valuable property. This consist 
 ed, among other things, of four large pier 
 looking-glasses, some women s clothes, 
 and a variety of articles which could be 
 of no possible use to officer or soldier, 
 certainly, in their military capacity. A 
 major of brigade, meeting the rogues, 
 loaded down with -their booty, ordered 
 the officer at the head of the party to re 
 turn the property ; whereupon that mili 
 tary vagabond drew up his men for a 
 fight, and swore that he would defend his 
 possession of pier-glasses, women s petti 
 coats, and all, at the hazard of his life ! 
 Though this fellow escaped on his first 
 trial, Washington, by ordering a recon 
 sideration of the matter, and obtaining 
 fresh evidence, made a shift finally to 
 cashier him. 
 
 These views of the command er-in-chief, 
 when laid before Congress, made a strong 
 impression. So great, however, was the 
 dread of a standing army, that it was only 
 after a long debate, during more than a 
 fortnight, that the resolution was passed 
 to reform the army into eighty-eight bat 
 talions, " to be enlisted as soon as possi 
 ble, and to serve during the war." Wash 
 ington s suggestions, too, in regard to the 
 appointment of officers, their pay, and that 
 of the soldiers, were, for the most part, 
 adopted.* 
 
 * To encourage enlistments, a bounty of twenty dollars 
 and of one hundred acres of land was offered to each non 
 commissioned officer and soldier. The commissioned offi 
 cers were also to receive bounties of land in the following 
 proportions : a colonel, five hundred acres ; lieutenant-cold 
 
360 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Washington, thoroughly conscious of 
 his weakness from the disorganized con 
 dition of his army, which must be known 
 to the enemy, was surprised at the inac 
 tivity of Howe. That general, however, 
 remained within his lines, without making 
 a movement for nearly three weeks. The 
 American commander, in the meantime, 
 was strengthening his position by means 
 of redoubts, breastworks, and abattis, and 
 presented a front which the British evi 
 dently deemed formidable ; for General 
 Howe (now Sir William, as he had been 
 created a knight for his Long-island vic 
 tory) wrote to the ministry in England : 
 " The enemy is too strongly posted to be 
 attacked in front, and immeasurable diffi 
 culties are in our way of turning him on 
 either side, though his army is much dis 
 pirited from the late success of his majes 
 ty s arms; yet have I not the smallest 
 prospect of finishing the combat this cam 
 paign, nor until the rebels see prepara 
 tions in the spring that may preclude all 
 thoughts of further resistance. To this 
 end I would propose eight or ten line-of- 
 battle ships to be with us in February, 
 with a number of supernumerary seamen 
 for manning boats, having fully experi 
 enced the want of them in every move 
 ment we have made. We must also have 
 
 nel, four hundred and fifty ; major, four hundred ; captain, 
 three hundred; lieutenant, two hundred; ensign, one hun 
 dred and fifty. A certain number of the eighty-eight battal 
 ions voted by Congress was assigned to each state, as its 
 quota. The states were to appoint all officers as high as 
 colonels, and to fill up vacancies ; and also to provide arms 
 and clothing for their respective quotas the expense of 
 clothing to be deducted, as usual, from the soldiers pay. 
 All officers were to be commissioned by Congress. Articles 
 of war were also passed, better suited to the requirements of 
 the army, and more calculated to secure discipline. 
 
 SPARKS. 
 
 recruits from Europe, not finding the 
 Americans disposed to serve with arms, 
 notwithstanding the hopes held out to 
 me upon my arrival in this port." 
 
 Tories by profession abounded since 
 the British success on Long island. Stat- 
 en island, New York, and Long island, 
 were now filled with those who were pro 
 fuse in their expressions of loyal attach 
 ment, but by no means as free in giving 
 their services as they were bountiful in 
 professions of good will. There was one, 
 however, who, now that he was embarked 
 in the cause, was evidently doing his best 
 to aid Howe. This was OLIVER DELANCEY, 
 the son of a Huguenot colonist, who had 
 early come to America, and, having re 
 ceived an extensive grant of land in West- 
 chester county, became wealthy, and the 
 founder of an influential family. Oliver, 
 like his brother James, the lieutenant- 
 governor of New York, reached a posi 
 tion of high influence in the province. 
 When the French War began, and he was 
 solicited to accept the command of the 
 New-York regiment, he said that, if he 
 did, he could in ten days raise the whole 
 quota of troops required of that colony. 
 Nor was this the mere boast of a bragga 
 docio. He was strongly attached to his 
 country, and boldly advocated its rights ; 
 but when the question came of separa 
 tion, he opposed it, and, so soon as the 
 Revolutionary struggle began, he staked 
 his all on the side of the British throne. 
 On Howe s arrival at Staten island, De- 
 lancey was the first American loyalist to 
 be made a brigadier-general in the royal 
 army. 
 
 Great hopes were entertained of his 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. 
 
 OLIVER DELANCEY. 
 
 361 
 
 influence in obtaining recruits in New 
 York and its neighborhood. He, howev 
 er, although only required to obtain fif 
 teen hundred men in all, was more than 
 a year in getting six hundred to join his 
 standard, and during the whole war they 
 never amounted to eight hundred. He 
 was now at work on Long island, tempt 
 ing the Americans by offers of the same 
 pay and treatment as English soldiers, 
 and Washington supposed with such suc 
 cess, that he thought it necessary, if pos 
 sible, to counteract his manoeuvres. Gen 
 eral George Clinton was accordingly sent 
 from his station on the Hudson, beyond 
 Kingsbridge, to meet General Lincoln, 
 just appointed to the command of the 
 new levies of troops from Massachusetts. 
 Clinton was to proceed to Fairfield, in 
 Connecticut, and there concoct with Lin 
 coln a plan to make a descent upon Long 
 island, and try to check Delancey s " per 
 nicious practices." The expedition was, 
 however, finally abandoned, for want of 
 the necessary boats. 
 
 The tories, too, seemed to be very ac 
 tive at this moment in Westchester and 
 Dutchess counties. Washington had been 
 informed that there were several compa 
 nies of men preparing to go off and join 
 the king s army. Accordingly, he ordered 
 the guard-boats and the sentries at the 
 works on Mount Washington to keep a 
 strict lookout, in case these American re 
 cruits for the British army should attempt 
 to come down the North river. General 
 Heath also, then in command at Kings- 
 bridge, was urged to do his utmost, by 
 means of his troops, to intercept any coin 
 ing down the East river, with the purpose 
 4G 
 
 of joining the enemy s forces on Long 
 island. Washington was determined to 
 use every precaution in his power " to 
 prevent these parricides from accomplish 
 ing their designs." 
 
 On Long island there was another man, 
 of a different stamp from Delancey, one 
 Major Rogers, who was all the more for 
 midable as he was entirely unscrupulous. 
 ROBERT ROGERS was born in New Hamp 
 shire, where his father emigrated from 
 Scotland. During the French War, he en 
 tered the British service, and command 
 ed a corps of New-England riflemen, who 
 became renowned for their exploits, un 
 der the name of Rogers Rangers. When 
 peace with France was declared, Rogers 
 retired, on half-pay, to his native town. 
 He did not, however, long remain at rest, 
 but soon took up arms in the campaign 
 against the Cherokee Indians. He was 
 rewarded for his services by being ap 
 pointed governor of Michillimackinac in 
 1766 ; but his artfulness of character, and 
 want of directness of conduct, exposed 
 him to the suspicion of laying a plot to 
 plunder his own fort and join the French. 
 He was accordingly put in irons, and sent 
 to Montreal for trial. He escaped con 
 demnation, however, and went to Ens 1 - 
 
 7 O 
 
 land, where he contrived to establish him 
 self on such a respectable footing, that 
 he was presented to the king. But his 
 good fortune soon failed him, and he was 
 clapped into prison for debt. 
 
 When the difficulties between Great 
 Britain and her colonies were fast ap 
 proaching the crisis of war, Rogers again 
 made his appearance in America. So lit 
 tle scrupulous was he supposed to be, 
 
BATTLES OF AMP] RICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 that it was the opinion of all who knew 
 him, that he was ready to join either the 
 British or the Americans, as his personal 
 interest might prompt, or chance direct. 
 When the Revolutionary War began, Rog 
 ers kept wandering about the country, 
 and haunting the quarters of Americans 
 in authority, civil or military, with the 
 view of either selling his services, or ful 
 filling his duties as a spy, in which char 
 acter he was suspected to have been al 
 ready employed by the British. 
 
 In the course of his wanderings, he fell 
 in with Doctor Wheelock, of Dartmouth 
 college, who wrote : " The famous Major 
 Rogers came to my house, from a tavern 
 in the neighborhood, where he called for 
 refreshment. I had never before seen 
 him. He was in but an ordinary habit 
 for one of his character." He treated the 
 doctor with great respect, and gave him 
 an account of his travels. He spoke of 
 his visit to London, where the doctor s 
 college, he said, was in great repute, and 
 that Lord Dartmouth and many other 
 noblemen had spoken of it in his hearing 
 with " expressions of the highest esteem 
 and respect." He told of his deeds in for 
 eign lands, and how he had fought two 
 battles in Algiers, under the dey; and, 
 with the apparent desire to live thereaf 
 ter in peace and innocence, he declared 
 that he had now returned to his native 
 country "to take care of some large grants 
 of lands made to him," and to visit his 
 sister and his wife, whom he had not seen 
 since his return" from England. He had 
 been, however, according to his own ac 
 count, very deliberate in performing his 
 conjugal duties ; for he had already spent 
 
 twenty days with the Congress at Phila 
 delphia, and as many more in New York. 
 He had been offered and urged, he said, 
 to take a commission in favor of the colo 
 nies ; but, with a scrupulous delicacy, as 
 he w r as on half-pay from the crown, he 
 thought it proper not to accept it, The 
 major wound up his interview with the 
 doctor by declaring that he was a great 
 friend to his college, and volunteered to 
 assist in obtaining a large grant of land 
 for it. 
 
 Rogers, as we have seen, had been in 
 Philadelphia, where he had been arrest 
 ed ; but having " solemnly promised and 
 engaged, on the honor of a gentleman 
 and soldier, that he would not bear arms 
 against the American united colonies, in 
 any manner whatsoever, d uring the Amer 
 ican contest with Great Britain," he was 
 set free, and provided with a passport by 
 the Pennsylvania committee of safety. 
 Thus fortified, Rogers proceeded (about 
 a month after his visit to Doctor Whee 
 lock) to the American camp before Bos 
 ton, and w r rote Washington a letter, re 
 questing his signature to his Philadelphia 
 certificate, and making this emphatic pro 
 fession of patriotism : " I love America ; 
 it is my native country, and that of my 
 family, and I intend to spend the even 
 ing of my days in it." 
 
 About the same time that Washington 
 received this letter, Doctor Wheelock also 
 wrote him that "two soldiers, returning 
 
 O 
 
 from Montreal, informed him that our offi 
 cers were assured by a Frenchman (a cap 
 tain of the artillery, whom they had taken 
 captive) that Major Rogers was second in 
 command under General Carleton ; and 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 MAJOR ROGERS. 
 
 363 
 
 that he had been, in an Indian habit, 
 through our encampment at St. Johns." 
 Washington sent General Sullivan to 
 have an interview with Rogers, who was 
 then within a few miles of Cambridge. 
 Sullivan confronted the major with this 
 statement of Doctor Wheelock about his 
 service in Canada. Rogers denied his 
 having been there, but confessed that he 
 had gone to the westward of Albany. As 
 Washington did not care to see the ma 
 jor, and could not know of any reason 
 Avhy he should be haunting the American 
 camp, Sullivan was directed to tell him 
 that he could neither be received at head 
 quarters nor get his passport signed ; but 
 that he might depart, and enjoy such se 
 curity as the papers with which he was 
 already provided might give him. 
 
 The next event in the history of the 
 major was his arrest, by the order of 
 Washington, at South Amboy, where he 
 was prowling about the American camp, 
 and in the neighborhood of the British 
 on Staten island, under suspicious circum 
 stances. Washington sent him to Phila 
 delphia, under the care of an officer, as 
 Rogers had declared that he was on his 
 way to make a secret offer to serve Con 
 gress a body which, however, the com- 
 mander-in-chief took care to put on its 
 guard, by suggesting to President Han 
 cock " whether it would not be danger 
 ous to accept the offer of his services." 
 Congress would have nothing to do with 
 
 the major, but handed him over to the 
 provincial legislative assembly of New 
 Hampshire. 
 
 Rogers now appeared in his true char 
 acter, as a colonel in the British army, 
 engaged in recruiting his famous corps, 
 called the Queen s Rangers. By an offer 
 to recruits "of their proportion of all rebel 
 lands," he was filling his ranks with a set 
 of desperate adventurers, who made them 
 selves notorious, throughout the war, as 
 among the most audacious and unscrupu 
 lous of the enemy. 
 
 He was now on Long island, getting 
 men, out of the abounding tories there. 
 He had made his headquarters at Hun- 
 tington ; and Connecticut seemed greatly 
 alarmed lest he should carry out his threat 
 of landing at Norwalk, taking the conti 
 nental stores, and laying waste the town. 
 Governor Trumbull says : " I hope we 
 shall be able to frustrate his designs. I 
 have no need to apprize you [he is wri 
 ting to Livingston] of the art of this Rog 
 ers. He has been a famous scouter, or 
 woods-hunter, skilled in waylaying, am 
 buscade, and sudden attack."* Rogers 
 was a dangerous fellow, as cunning as an 
 Indian, and as unscrupulous as a highway 
 man. His tricks were a constant topic 
 of conversation in the American camp, 
 and all the officers and soldiers of spirit 
 were anxious, if possible, to catch the 
 wily colonel. 
 
 * Sparks s Life of Washington. 
 
364 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_PART 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 The Americans at Tieonderoga. The 111 Condition of the Troops. Their Sufferings. Reinforcements. Boat-Building 
 at Skenesborough. Arnold and his Fleet. Arnold again in Trouble. Condemned by the Court. Gates comes to 
 his Rescue, and dissolves the Court. Activity of Sir Guy Carleton. Arnold sets sail. Prepares to fight the Enemy. 
 The Action. Victorious Result. Arnold s Escape. Humanity of Carleton. Carleton takes Crown Point. Re 
 connoitres Ticonderoga. Gates makes a Great Show of Defence. Carleton frightened awav. Retires into Canada. 
 
 1776, 
 
 SOON after the arrival at Crown 
 Point of Generals Sclmyler, Gates, 
 and Arnold, who had met at Albany and 
 set out together to join the northern ar 
 my, the troops, it will be recollected, were 
 withdrawn to Ticonderoga. General Sir 
 Gny Carleton, the governor of Canada, 
 Avas at St. Johns (on the Sorel river, near 
 the northern extremity of Lake Cham- 
 plain), and might be expected, so soon as 
 he could construct proper vessels for the 
 purpose, to sail up the lake and attack 
 the Americans. The latter began to pre 
 pare, in all haste, to defend themselves. 
 The old French fort was strengthened by 
 new defences, and the neighboring hills 
 and grounds cleared of their forest-wood, 
 and fortified with redoubts and batteries. 
 The American troops, when they had 
 reached Crown Point, after their retreat 
 under General Sullivan, were in a state 
 of extreme misery. " I found them," said 
 Adjutant-General Trumbull, " dispersed, 
 some few in tents, some in sheds, and 
 more under the shelter of miserable bush 
 huts, so totally disorganized by the death 
 or sickness of officers, that the distinction 
 of regiments and corps was in a great de 
 gree lost ; so that I was driven to the ne 
 cessity of great personal examination : 
 
 and I can truly say that I did not look 
 into tent or hut in which I did not find 
 either a dead or dying man. I found the 
 whole number of officers and men to be 
 five thousand two hundred, and the sick 
 who required the attentions of a hospital 
 were two thousand eight hundred ; so 
 that when they were sent off, with the 
 number of men necessary to row them to 
 the hospital, which had been established 
 at the south end of Lake George, a dis 
 tance of fifty miles, there would remain 
 but the shadow of the army." 
 
 With this " shadow of the army," how 
 ever, the Americans began their opera 
 tions at Ticonderoga, and with their new 
 duties their old sufferings did not end. 
 As the forest was cleared for the encamp 
 ment, the exhalations from the earth, thus 
 exposed for the first time to the rays of 
 a midsummer sun, together with the mi- 
 asm from the lake, soon produced a fever, 
 which not seldom carried off the strong 
 est men in two or three days after an at 
 tack. 
 
 Reinforcements, however, soon arrived 
 from New England and Pennsylvania, so 
 that the post at Ticonderoga began to as 
 sume the aspect of military strength and 
 activity. Ship-carpenters had also arrived 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 FLOTILLA AT CROWN POINT. 
 
 36 
 
 from Boston and New London, and were 
 at once set to work at Skenesborough, 
 building the hulls of boats and galleys. 
 These as soon as launched were towed 
 down the lake to Ticonderoga, where they 
 were equipped and armed. General Gates 
 had appointed Arnold,from his well-known 
 activity and his experience as a sailor, to 
 superintend the fitting out of this little 
 fleet, and promised him the command. 
 The difficulty of obtaining proper mate 
 rials for ship-building, and the distance to 
 which they had to send for skilful work 
 men, interfered greatly with the work ; 
 but Arnold s energy so overcame every 
 obstacle, that by the middle of August 
 he had a squadron of one sloop and one 
 schooner of twelve guns, two schooners 
 of eight, and five gondolas with each 
 three. 
 
 Arnold, however, with his usual facility 
 of quarrel, had just now a difficulty on 
 hand, which nearly led to the loss of his 
 command. When about leaving Quebec, 
 he lawlessly ordered some goods to be 
 seized belonging to merchants in Mon 
 treal, but gave receipts to the owners, 
 who were promised payment on present 
 ing them to Congress. They had made 
 their claims, and Arnold was now called 
 upon to account for his disposition of the 
 goods. All he had to say was, that they 
 had been damaged and plundered, and 
 that Colonel Hazen was responsible, for 
 he had disobeyed orders in not taking 
 proper charge of them. Hazen accord 
 ingly was arrested, and tried by court- 
 martial. Arnold brought forward, as his 
 principal witness, a Major Scott. His tes 
 timony, however, was rejected by the 
 
 court, on the ground that, as he had 
 seized the goods, though under the or 
 ders of Arnold, he was a party concerned. 
 Arnold became so enraged at this, tha. 
 he completely lost all self-control, and 
 addressed an insulting communication to 
 the court. They insisted upon an apol 
 ogy, in vindication of their wounded dig 
 nity. This only made Arnold still more 
 intemperate in his rage ; and, insultingly 
 refusing to apologize, he hinted so broad 
 ly that he was ready to give each mem 
 ber personal satisfaction, that the whole 
 court considered themselves as being chal 
 lenged ! This was, of course, too outra 
 geous a contempt of their dignity to be 
 passed over without rebuke and punish 
 ment ; and General Gates was according 
 ly appealed to, to interpose the severity 
 of his executive power. Gates, however, 
 was not disposed to spare his admiral of 
 the lake-fleet, and therefore acted " dicta- 
 torially," as he himself calls it, and dis 
 solved the court-martial. To Congress, 
 Gates justified his conduct, saying, " The 
 United States must not be deprived of 
 that excellent officer s [Arnold s] services 
 at this important moment."* 
 
 The vessels being equipped, and Ar 
 nold in command, the flotilla rendez 
 voused at Crown Point. Here floated 
 the Royal Savage, the Enterprise, the 
 Revenge, and the Liberty, the four larger 
 craft, together with the half-dozen gon 
 dolas and several new galleys. Sir Guy 
 Carleton was not less busy and active 
 than Arnold. Bringing a large force of 
 shipwrights, riggers, and sailors, from Que 
 bec, together with frames of vessels, sup- 
 
 * Sparks s Life of Arnold. 
 
366 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 plies of timber, cordage, guns, and every 
 thing that "was necessary for constructing 
 and fitting out ships-of-war, the Canadian 
 governor was soon enabled to launch at 
 St. Johns a formidable fleet. 
 
 Toward the end of September, Arnold 
 was prepared for a cruise, and set sail 
 down the lake. General Gates had or 
 dered him not to advance beyond the 
 Isle-aux-Tetes (near what is now called 
 Rouse s point), at the northern part of 
 Lake Champlain, where its waters are 
 narrowed toward the outlet of the Sorel 
 river. When Arnold had reached Wind 
 mill point, within four miles of the Isle- 
 aux-Tetes, observing that that island and 
 the neighboring shores were in posses 
 sion of the British, he came to anchor, 
 moving his flotilla across the lake. Hav 
 ing occasion to land his men, in order to 
 cut some timber and brushwood for the 
 purpose of raising the bulwarks of his 
 little vessels, and thus prevent them from 
 being so accessible to boarders, he found 
 that his position was not yet secure from 
 annoyance by the enemy. A party that 
 he had sent ashore had, in fact, been set 
 upon by an ambuscade of Indians, and 
 driven to their boats, with the loss of sev 
 eral killed and wounded. Arnold now 
 weighed anchor, and sailed back some 
 eight or ten miles, until he reached Isle- 
 la-Motte. 
 
 From this point scouts were sent along 
 the banks of the lake, and guard-boats 
 stationed in advance along its waters, in 
 order to watch the approach of the ene 
 my, and obtain information of their move 
 ments. From what was thus learned, Ar 
 nold thought it advisable to move still 
 
 farther down, and accordingly sailed back 
 and took a position with his flotilla in the 
 narrowest part of the channel between 
 Valcour island and the western bank of 
 the lake. Here he stretched his little 
 vessels in line across and toward the up 
 per part of the strait. While thus moored, 
 awaiting the approach of the enem^, he 
 was reinforced, from Crown Point, by the 
 cutter Lee, of four guns; the three gal 
 leys Congress, Washington, and Trumbull, 
 each of ten guns ; and several additional 
 gondolas. His whole force in guns now 
 amounted to ninety ; in metal, six hun 
 dred and forty-seven pounds ; and in men, 
 most of whom were soldiers, to six hun 
 dred. 
 
 The advance guard-boats were constant 
 ly on the lookout, as the approach of the 
 British was hourly expected. At break 
 
 of day, accordingly, Carleton s 
 
 Oct Hi 
 
 fleet hove in sight off Cumber 
 land head to the north, and its approach 
 was duly reported. As vessel after vessel 
 bore down, the appearance of the enemy 
 was truly formidable. There was the ship 
 Inflexible, of sixteen guns ; the schooner 
 Maria, of fourteen ; the schooner Carle- 
 ton, of twelve ; the razee Thunderer, of 
 fourteen ; the gondola Royal Consort, of 
 six ; together with a score of gun-boats, 
 four long-boats, each armed witli a gun, 
 and four-and-twenty other small craft. 
 
 Carleton had almost proved himself a 
 match in activity for even the energetic 
 Arnold. The ship Inflexible had been 
 got ready to sail within twenty-eight days 
 after her keel had been laid ; and between 
 July and October, so great had been the 
 despatch of the enemy, that no less than 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 FIGHT ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 
 
 367 
 
 " thirty fighting-vessels of different sorts 
 and sizes, and all carrying cannon," had 
 been equipped. Carle ton, however, had 
 all the resources of the British fleet, then 
 at Quebec, at his command. British men- 
 of-war supplied abundant materials, edu 
 cated naval officers to superintend the 
 work, skilful artificers to execute it, and 
 all the possible requirements for building 
 and equipping vessels-of-war. The prep 
 arations had all been conducted by Cap 
 tain Douglas, of the Isis ; and, when the 
 fleet was ready to sail, seamen to the num 
 ber of more than seven hundred were 
 drafted from the naval ships at Quebec, 
 to man the squadron of the lake ; while 
 each vessel was officered by lieutenants 
 and midshipmen, and the whole were 
 commanded by the British naval captain 
 Pringle, of the Lord Howe. Carleton 
 himself, though yielding the direction of 
 the fleet to the nautical experience of 
 Pringle, could not restrain his ardor to be 
 a witness of the struggle, and accordingly 
 went on board the flag-ship, the Inflexible, 
 determined to share the common danger. 
 
 o 
 
 The young officers, some of them now for 
 the first time in separate command, were 
 full of eager desire to distinguish them 
 selves. Among the midshipmen was the 
 youthful Pellew (already noticed for his 
 gallantry), afterward famous as Lord Ex- 
 inouth. 
 
 The British fleet bore for the southern 
 point of Valcour island, with the view of 
 rounding it, and bringing the whole force 
 against Arnold s line stretched across the 
 strait to the north. The wind, however, 
 was unfavorable for this manoeuvre, and 
 only the smaller craft were able to enter 
 
 the channel, as the larger vessels had not 
 room to beat up, and could not sail suffi 
 ciently close hauled. 
 
 Arnold, observing the difficulty, and 
 seeing the British force thus divided, or 
 dered three of his galleys and his schoon 
 er the Royal Savage to get under way. 
 He himself took the lead, on board the 
 Congress galley, and sailed, followed by 
 the rest, to attack those of the enemy in 
 advance, which consisted of all their small 
 craft and the schooner Carleton of twelve 
 guns, commanded by Lieutenant D acres. 
 
 The engagement soon began, hot and 
 heavy, and continued from eleven o clock 
 in the morning till five in the afternoon. 
 The American boats suffered greatly, and 
 none more than the Congress, which Ar 
 nold took care to keep in the hottest of 
 the struggle. He was constantly on deck, 
 pointing the guns with his own hands; 
 and, when the enemy retired from the 
 fight, Arnold s galley was almost a wreck, 
 with her hull riddled with shot, her mast 
 barely standing, her rigging torn into 
 shreds, and a large proportion of her men 
 killed or wounded. The Washington gal 
 ley, commanded by Waterbury, had hard 
 ly suffered less, her captain being wound 
 ed, her lieutenant with many of her men 
 killed, and the vessel itself well shattered. 
 One gondola lost every officer but her 
 captain, and another sank immediately 
 after the engagement. No less than six 
 ty in all were either killed or wounded. 
 
 The Royal Savage, in attempting to 
 reach the line, got aground, when she was 
 set on fire by her crew, and abandoned. 
 The larger British vessels, which were un 
 able to take part in the action, strove, by 
 
368 
 
 BATTLES OB" AMERICA. 
 
 [PART. 1 1. 
 
 landing their men and some Indians on 
 Valcour island, to harass the Americans 
 with musketry ; but, although they kept 
 up a constant fire, they only added to the 
 confusion and excitement of the scene, 
 and foiled to do much damage. 
 
 Arnold, upon retiring to his former an 
 chorage, called a council of his officers, 
 when it was unanimously resolved that, 
 with the superiority in ships, men, and 
 armament, of the British, it was impossi 
 ble to cope with them, and that the only 
 resource left was to attempt to escape 
 back to Crown Point. How to accom 
 plish this was, however, the great diffi 
 culty, as the enemy had stretched their 
 vessels across the strait, Avithin only a few 
 hundred yards of the American line. As 
 the night was dark, and the wind blew 
 favorably from the north, Arnold deter 
 mined upon the bold expedient of pas 
 sing through the British fleet. The at 
 tempt was made, and with perfect suc 
 cess. The Trumbull galley, commanded 
 by Colonel Wigglesworth, of the Massa 
 chusetts militia, led the retreat, with bare 
 ly enough sail set to give her steerage- 
 way, and a lantern under her stern, so 
 masked as not to be seen except by those 
 directly in her wake. The rest of the 
 squadron (each with a lantern hung at 
 her stern in the same manner) followed 
 in succession, at intervals of two or three 
 hundred yards. The night was profound 
 ly dark, and a heavy fog hung over the 
 lake. Strict silence was enjoined, and 
 thus each vessel sailed, in the dead of 
 night, through the enemy s line, Arnold 
 bringing up the rear with his usual dis 
 regard or rather love of danger. The 
 
 Oct. 13, 
 
 British were so completely kept in the 
 dark., that they were unconscious of his 
 escape until next morning, when he had 
 reached Schuyler s island, some ten miles 
 up the lake. 
 
 Arnold was now brought to a stop by 
 the ill condition of his vessels, which had 
 been so damaged in the fight, that all of 
 them were either leaking or required to 
 have new sails bent. Two of the gondo 
 las were such complete wrecks, that they 
 were abandoned and sunk. The neces 
 sary repairs detained him for half a day 
 at Schuyler s island, and Arnold was not 
 enabled to get under way again until the 
 evening. 
 
 The wind proving favorable, Arnold 
 made good progress during the night. 
 In the morning, however, a fresh 
 breeze sprang up from the south, 
 dead ahead ; and, although it was unfa 
 vorable for both the pursued and the pur 
 suing, the enemy succeeded in gaining 
 upon the rear of the American flotilla. 
 The two galleys, the Washington and Con 
 gress, and four of the gondolas all of 
 which were in bad sailing-condition, from 
 the damages they had suffered were 
 soon overtaken by the leading British 
 vessels, which crowded all sail in chase. 
 The Washington was the first to suffer, 
 and, having received a broadside or two, 
 was forced to strike. The enemy now 
 bore up against Arnold s galley, the Con 
 gress. Arnold did not refuse the fight, 
 notwithstanding the odds against him of 
 a ship and two schooners. Unequal as 
 was the struggle, he resolutely engaged 
 in it, and with such a brave and skilful 
 resistance, that it was prolonged for four 
 
RE\ OLUTIONARY.] 
 
 hours; and Arnold did not withdraw his 
 galley until she was nearly a wreck, and 
 the enemy had been reinforced by four 
 additional vessels, and thus with seven of 
 their larger craft were preparing to sur 
 round him on all sides. 
 
 Arnold, finding himself in this extremi 
 ty, ran the Congress and the four gondo 
 las ashore. He then ordered all the boats, 
 with their flags flying, to be set on fire, 
 and his men to spring overboard with 
 their muskets in hand, and, having waded 
 to the land, to draw up and keep off the 
 enemy s small boats should they attempt 
 an attack. Arnold himself was the last 
 man to leave the galley ; and, on reach 
 ing the shore, he stood his guard until 
 the flames had so enveloped the whole 
 flotilla, that hardly a plank was left to 
 fall into the hands of the enemy. 
 
 Arnold then pushed on by land through 
 the forest to Ticonderoga, where on his 
 arrival he found the remnant of his flo 
 tilla the two schooners, two galleys, one 
 sloop, and the gondola which, by being 
 in advance, and in fair sailing-condition, 
 had succeeded in escaping Carleton s fleet. 
 Every one awarded to Arnold great cred 
 it for his daring and the skill with which 
 he managed his little flotilla in so unequal 
 a struggle, although some have doubted 
 his prudence in engaging with the ene 
 my under such disadvantages. 
 
 Sir Guy Carleton treated the prisoners 
 with his usual humanity and chivalrous 
 courtesy. He ordered his army-surgeons 
 to take the same care of the American 
 wounded as they did of his own men. 
 The others he sent for on board his own 
 ship, where " he first treated them to a 
 47 
 
 ARNOLD S DARING AND SKILL. 
 
 3G9 
 
 drink of grog," and then praised their 
 courage; and, after expressing a regret 
 that it had not been displayed in the ser 
 vice of their lawful sovereign, offered to 
 send them home to their friends, on their 
 giving their parole that they would not 
 again bear arms against Great Britain un 
 til they should be exchanged. 
 
 General Waterbury,who had command 
 ed the Washington, was invited by Carle- 
 ton into his cabin below, and asked for 
 his commission. When it was shown, and 
 observed to be signed by Governor Trum- 
 bull, of Connecticut, the courteous Sir 
 Guy gave his prisoner his hand, saying : 
 " General Waterbury, I am happy to take 
 you by the hand, now that I see that you 
 are not serving under a commission and 
 orders of the rebel Congress, but of Gov 
 ernor Trumbull. You are acting under 
 a legitimate and acknowledged authority. 
 He is responsible for the abuse he has 
 made of that authority. That which is 
 a high crime in him, is but an error in 
 you : it was your duty to obey him, your 
 legitimate authority."* 
 
 In a few days after Arnold s defeat, a 
 number of row-boats pulled up the lake, 
 and lay upon their oars off the advanced 
 posts of the Americans. The boats bore 
 a flag of truce, and contained General 
 Waterbury and one hundred and ten pris 
 oners, who were now returned on parole 
 by Sir Guy Carleton. This noble-hearted 
 Englishman had treated those who had 
 fallen into his hands by the chances of 
 war with so much humanity and even 
 gentle courtesy, and each man who re 
 turned was so full of gratitude and ex- 
 
 * Autobiography, &c., by John Trumbull. 
 
370 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPATIT IT. 
 
 pressions of good feeling toward Sir Guy, 
 that he was thought to "have made a 
 very dangerous impression." The boats, 
 therefore, which contained the prisoners 
 were placed under the guns of a battery, 
 and orders given that not a man should 
 be allowed to land, lest by intercourse 
 with the American troops he might affect 
 them with a dangerous good will toward 
 the enemy. The prisoners were accord 
 ingly, immediately after their arrival was 
 reported to General Gates, ordered to pro 
 ceed to Skenesborough, on their way to 
 their homes ; and they went forward the 
 same night, without being permitted to 
 land. We know of no such illustration 
 as this fact exhibits, of the humanity of a 
 chivalrous enemy, as well as of the policy 
 of such conduct. Many such British offi 
 cers might have proved fatal to the Amer 
 ican cause. 
 
 Sir Guy meanwhile did not neglect the 
 more positive duties of his command. He 
 advanced with his whole force, and took 
 possession of Crown Point; and thence 
 sent out a reconnoitring-party to observe 
 the condition of the Americans at Ticon- 
 deroga. Gates was prepared to make an 
 effective display of his powers of resist 
 ance. He had been largely reinforced, 
 and now mustered nearly thirteen thou 
 sand men, who by proper care and time 
 ly supplies of food and clothing, were in 
 a tolerably effective condition. So soon 
 as Carleton s boats appeared off a point 
 within three miles of Ticonderoga, Gates 
 ordered his whole force under arms, and 
 each man to his post. The American 
 
 lines must have made an imposing show 
 to those on the lake. The summits of 
 the rising ground on both sides of the 
 water were crowned with redoubts and 
 batteries, bristling with cannon, and full 
 manned with soldiers, while above all 
 floated the new flag of the United States. 
 The enemy s boats retired, but Gates 
 did not neglect to continue to prepare 
 for an attack. The works were manned 
 at daylight each morning, and the troops 
 kept busy the whole clay in strengthen 
 ing the defences. Poles of twelve feet 
 in length were cut in the neighboring; 
 
 * / O O 
 
 forests, armed with sharp iron points, and 
 kept in readiness within the breastworks 
 to thrust back the assailants in case of an 
 assault. Carleton, however, did not ad 
 vance, whether owing to the formidable 
 appearance of his antagonists at Ticon 
 deroga, or to the strong southerly wind 
 which had continued to blow in his teeth 
 ever since his arrival at Crown Point, and 
 prevented the advance of his vessels. Fi 
 nally, Gates, growing impatient, ordered 
 a detachment of troops to march toward 
 Crown Point, to reconnoitre. They soon 
 returned, with the information 
 that Sir Guy with his whole fleet 
 and army had abandoned that post, and 
 withdrawn into Canada. The enemy gone, 
 there was less occasion for the American 
 army to remain. A small force, under 
 General St. Clair, having been left to gar 
 rison the post at Ticonderoga, the remain 
 der of the troops were ordered to other 
 service. Gates proceeded to Albany, and 
 Arnold to join Washington s army. 
 
 Nov. 1, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BRITISH SHIPS SAIL UP THE HUDSON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Sir William Howe disposed to move. English Vessels-of- War sail up the Hudson. In efficacy of Chevaux-de-Frise, &c. 
 The Last of the American Turtle. General James Clinton astir. Agitation of the Convention of the State of New 
 York. The Enemy at Throw s Point. Return of General Lee. Elation of the Army in consequence. Lee s Views 
 of the British Flans. Council of War. Lee opposed to holding Fort Washington. Greene in favor. Movement of 
 the Enemy. General Heath. His Life and Character. An Attempt to catch Rogers. Its Failure. The Enemy 
 outflanked by Washington. Retires to White Plains. Lee s Headquarters. Oddities. Approach of the Enemy. 
 
 1776, 
 
 SIR WILLIAM HOWE, after his long 
 inactivity, began at last to show 
 some disposition to move. Early one 
 morning the British men-of-war, the Roe 
 buck, Phoenix, a frigate of twenty guns, 
 and several tenders, which had been sta 
 tioned off Bloomingdale, taking advan 
 tage of a fair southerly breeze, got under 
 
 way and sailed up the Hudson. 
 Oct 9 
 
 The batteries and forts on both 
 
 sides of the river kept up a heavy fire, 
 but the ships sailed by them without much 
 damage. The famous chevaux-de-frise, that 
 had been stretched across the stream un 
 der the auspices of " Old Put," proved 
 still less an obstruction, notwithstanding 
 the old gap in it had been filled in. The 
 ships, borne by a strong flood-tide and a 
 fair wind, came with head on, and broke 
 through the barrier with hardly a check 
 to their way, chasing before them the 
 two vessels laden down with stories, ready 
 to be sunk, to add to the strength of the 
 
 O 
 
 chevaux-de-frise, the four armed galleys sta 
 tioned to protect it, an American vessel 
 from the West Indies, with a cargo of 
 rum and molasses, anchored for safety 
 
 / 
 
 under the cover of the guns of the fort, 
 and a small schooner containing Bush- 
 nell s "American Turtle." The two ships 
 
 were driven ashore by their pursuers ; 
 two of the galleys secured a retreat ; two 
 were run aground and fell into the ene- 
 , my s hands, although their crews saved 
 themselves by swimming; the West-India 
 skipper was forced to strike his flag ; and 
 a well-aimed shot sent the small schoon 
 er, with Bushnell s submarine exploder, 
 to the bottom meeting a fate, as Gen 
 eral Heath remarks, " finely in contrast 
 with its design ;" for the purpose of the 
 "American Turtle" was to destroy, and 
 not to be destroyed. 
 
 Washington saw in this movement of 
 the enemy s ships an intention to stop 
 the navigation of the Hudson, and thus 
 cut off his communication and supplies 
 by that river. He immediately sent an 
 express to General James Clinton, who 
 commanded at the Highlands, to put him 
 on his guard, in case there should be any 
 attempt upon the posts and forts above. 
 He also ordered a detachment of troops 
 from his camp to hurry along the eastern 
 bank of the river, to oppose the enemy 
 in case they should land. As Putnam 
 was still sanguine of the efficacy of his 
 favorite chevaux-de-frise., Washington was 
 induced to send a party to try and get 
 off the two stone-laden ships which had 
 
372 
 
 BATTLES OF 1 AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 o>-ot aground, and in the meantime to or- 
 
 O O / 
 
 der some old hulks to be filled up and 
 towed down to close the break in the ob 
 struction across the river, and thus pre 
 vent, if possible, the return of the ships 
 to their anchorage in the bay. 
 
 The convention of the state of New 
 York were greatly agitated by the ad 
 vance of the enemy s ships up their main 
 river. They had great distrust of many 
 of the population, and believed that this 
 movement was in co-operation with the 
 disaffected, with the view of seizing such 
 passes as would cut off the communica 
 tion between the interior and Washing 
 ton s army, and thus prevent supplies. 
 They therefore strenuously urged upon 
 the commander-in-chief the propriety of 
 sending a body of men to the Highlands 
 or to Peekskill, to " secure the passes, pre 
 vent insurrection, and overawe the dis 
 affected." 
 
 Washington was induced by these ap 
 prehensions which the convention were 
 under, on account of the disaffected whom 
 they had reason to suppose were plotting 
 so much mischief, to order up a part of 
 the militia which had lately come in from 
 Massachusetts, under the new general, 
 Lincoln, to prevent if possible the conse 
 quences which might happen, and which 
 it was believed the conspirators had in 
 contemplation. "I am persuaded," says 
 Washington, " that they are upon 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 rife for it." 
 
 The attention of the command er-in- 
 chief was, however, soon called to a more 
 
 Oct. 12, 
 
 pressing danger near at hand. The en 
 emy had landed on " Trog s" 
 point (Throgg s it is now always 
 called, though Washington writes Trog s) 
 in large force. Nine ships and a great 
 number of transports and store-vessels, 
 " full of men," had been observed to pass 
 up the sound the night before, and it was 
 believed that the greatest part of Howe s 
 army had moved upward with the view 
 of getting in the rear of Washington s 
 lines and cutting off his communication 
 with the country. " Our situation here," 
 writes Washington, " is not exactly the 
 same as it was at New York. It is rather 
 better." He had some hope, by extend 
 ing his force, now consisting of some nine 
 teen thousand, toward East and West 
 Chester, to oppose the enemy, and pre 
 vent the accomplishment of their plans. 
 
 General Howe, after landing, did not 
 seem to be very impatient to begin op 
 erations. He was waiting (he afterward 
 said, in explanation) for the arrival of re 
 inforcements and stores, while the Ameri 
 cans believed that he was forced to hold 
 back in consequence of the state of the 
 causeway, which had been broken up, and 
 which was necessary for the conveyance 
 of his troops and artillery from Throgg s 
 point to the mainland. His landing, more 
 over, was opposed by some vigorous man 
 ifestations on the part of the American 
 forces. Howe finally re-embarked, and 
 landed at Pell s point, whence he began 
 to move his troops toward New Kochelle. 
 
 The arrival of General Lee at 
 this anxious time, on his return 
 from the South, was welcomed by the 
 whole American army. " The troops," 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 LEE S URGENT LETTER TO CONGRESS. 
 
 373 
 
 says a contemporary, " were mightily ela 
 ted with his presence, and felt themselves 
 stronger by one thousand men upon the 
 occasion ; for they had great confidence 
 in his abilities, and expected much from 
 him, because of the success which had at 
 tended him at Charleston." Washington 
 at once gave him the command of the di 
 vision stationed above Kingsbridge. The 
 other three divisions were under Generals 
 Heath, Sullivan, and Lincoln. Greene 
 had command of the post on the Jersey 
 shore, opposite to Fort Washington, pre 
 viously called " Fort Constitution," now 
 changed to "Fort Lee," in honor of the 
 general whose arrival seemed so greatly 
 to be welcomed by all. 
 
 Lee s success in the South had greatly 
 added to his reputation ; and when Wash 
 ington s army was apparently in such a 
 strait at New York, Congress despatched 
 an express to Georgia, ordering him to 
 repair immediately to Philadelphia, He 
 at once obeyed the summons ; and, hav 
 ing waited on Congress, and consulted 
 
 O O 3 
 
 with that body, it was resolved that he 
 should proceed to Washington s camp 
 without delay, although leave was grant 
 ed to him to visit the American posts in 
 New Jersey. Lee accordingly, before pre 
 senting himself at Washington s headquar 
 ters, visited the camp at Amboy, just pre 
 vious to crossing to New York. While 
 there, he took occasion to make a survey 
 of the enemy s position and movements 
 on Staten island. Here, on the day of 
 his arrival, Lee beheld a great encamp 
 ment of Hessians, and on the next morn 
 ing discovered that every tent was struck, 
 and the whole force had disappeared. 
 
 Thereupon he writes to Congress, and in 
 his usual emphatic style says : 
 " I am confident 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 re 
 ceived flattering accounts from Burgoyne 
 that he will be able to effectuate a junc 
 tion (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 prob 
 able, land somewhere about South Am 
 boy or Shrewsbury, and march straight 
 to Trenton or Burlington. On the sup 
 position 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 can not pos 
 sibly 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 opin 
 ion, your whole cause depends upon it. I 
 set out immediately for headquarters, 
 where I shall communicate my apprehen- 
 
374 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 Oct. 16. 
 
 sion 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." :;: 
 
 A few days after writing this letter, 
 General Lee had an opportunity of ma 
 king known his views and sustaining his 
 opinions before a council of war called 
 by Washington. A warm dis 
 cussion took place, and Lee was 
 among the foremost in the debate, stren 
 uously urging the necessity of extending 
 the American lines toward East and West 
 Chester, in order to outflank the enemy, 
 whose purpose evidently was to hem in 
 Washington by drawing a line in his rear. 
 There was considerable opposition to his 
 views, it being contended that the island 
 of New York, as it was well defended by 
 strong posts, and difficult of access, might 
 be held, and that it was there that the 
 army should remain and await the attack 
 of the enemy. Lee asked what they 
 meant by thinking of holding their posi 
 tion, while Howe had the command of 
 the water on each side of them, and was 
 so strong both in front and rear, and there 
 was but a single communication with the 
 mainland held by themselves, and that 
 only a bridge (King s bridge), over which 
 they must pass to escape being enclosed. 
 He declared that it was fallacious to sup 
 pose a position was good merely because 
 its approaches were difficult,- and stoutly 
 argued against the policy of having any 
 thing to do with the islands, adding that 
 for his part he " would give Mr. Howe a 
 fee simple in them." 
 
 * Amoncan Archives, fifth series, 11, 1008, quoted by 
 Irvine. 
 
 These opinions, emphatically express 
 ed, evidently had their effect; so that 
 when the question was put " Whether, 
 it having appeared that the obstructions 
 in the North river have proved insuffi 
 cient, and that the enemy s whole force 
 is in our rear at Throgg s point, it is now 
 deemed possible in our present situation 
 to prevent the enemy from cutting off 
 the communication with the country, and 
 compelling us to fight them at all disad 
 vantages or surrender prisoners at discre 
 tion?" it was agreed, with the single 
 dissenting voice of General Clinton, that 
 it was not possible to prevent the com 
 munication from being cut off, and that 
 one of the consequences mentioned must 
 certainly follow. 
 
 Lee was equally emphatic in denoun 
 cing the attempt to hold Fort Washing 
 ton, but not equally successful in impres 
 sing the council with his views. The gen 
 erals were probably influenced by a late 
 resolution of Congress, desiring Washing 
 ton, " by every art and at whatever ex 
 pense, to obstruct effectually the naviga 
 tion of the river between Fort Washing 
 ton and Mount Constitution, as well to 
 prevent the regress of the enemy s frig 
 ates lately gone up, as to hinder them 
 from receiving succor." Apart from this, 
 there were some who believed that the 
 fort should be held at all risks. Among 
 them was General Greene, who was sta 
 tioned at Fort Lee. He contended that 
 the possession of Fort Washington would 
 divert a large body of the enemy, and 
 thus divide the force of Howe ; and that 
 it, in conjunction with Fort Lee opposite, 
 would serve to cover the transportation 
 
REVOLUTIONARY, j 
 
 WILLIAM HEATH. 
 
 375 
 
 Oct. 22. 
 
 of provisions and other articles up the 
 North river for the service of the Ameri 
 can troops. He moreover held that, at 
 the worst, the garrison would be safe, as 
 they could be conveyed away at any mo 
 ment by boats from the Jersey side of 
 the river. It was finally agreed by the 
 council of war that Fort Washington be 
 retained as long as possible. More than 
 two thousand men were accordingly as 
 signed for that purpose ; and Colonel Ma- 
 gaw, to whom the command was given, 
 was urged to defend the position to the 
 last. 
 
 Sir William Ho we, reinforced by a large 
 body of Hessians under General Knyp- 
 hausen, just arrived from Germa 
 ny, continued to gather his forces 
 on the New- York border of the sound, 
 and to extend them northward. 
 
 Washington, in the meantime, having 
 stationed Lee on Valentine s hill, beyond 
 Kingsbridge, with one of the four divis 
 ions of the army, the rest followed and 
 formed a line of detached camps along 
 the western side of the river Bronx, ex 
 tending from Lee s position to White 
 Plains, a distance of thirteen miles. The 
 chief himself abandoned the Morris man 
 sion, on Harlem heights, and, after re 
 maining a few days with Lee at Valen 
 tine s hill, established his headquarters 
 near White Plains. General Heath, who 
 had the command of the division of the 
 army toward Long-island sound, was di 
 rected to watch and harass the enemy as 
 much as possible in that quarter, while 
 landing and marching into the interior. 
 
 WILLIAM HEATH, a native of Koxbury, 
 in Massachusetts, like many of the New- 
 
 England officers, was a farmer, and had 
 left the plough to gird on the sword. He 
 had, however, according to his own ac 
 count, a very early proclivity toward 
 martial life, and read every book which 
 fell in his way on military tactics, until 
 he became, as he tells us, quite a profi 
 cient in the theory of war. He was com 
 missioned by the Congress of his own 
 province, in 1775. During the siege of 
 Boston, he was present as a general offi 
 cer, but when offered the command of 
 a division, "he declined the hazardous 
 service."* Having been appointed a few 
 months before by Congress a major-gen 
 eral in the continental army, he was now 
 in command of one of its divisions. Heath 
 was in person corpulent and bald-headed, 
 and seemed flattered by being reminded 
 that he resembled the marquis of Gran- 
 by. He had little opportunity of playing 
 the hero, but proved himself an officer 
 who was always faithful to duty ; and, 
 though of an easy temper, he was not 
 without spirit when called upon to sus 
 tain his own dignity or the honor of his 
 country. 
 
 Howe did not succeed in marching in 
 to position without some stout resistance. 
 Glover s brigade was on the alert, and dis 
 puted the ground with the advancing par 
 ties ; and battalions of American riflemen, 
 stationed behind the stone-fences, suc 
 ceeded in greatly annoying them. Twice 
 the British were repulsed, and it was not 
 until they came up for the third time, 
 and in solid columns, that they were able 
 to force their way. The right and cen 
 tre of Howe s army now moved two miles 
 
 * Timelier. 
 
376 
 
 to the northward of New Rochelle, on the 
 road to White Plains. 
 
 The two armies, in the course of this 
 simultaneous movement, were for some 
 distance in a line with each other from 
 north to south, and several skirmishes 
 ensued between the outposts. The great 
 desire of the Americans to get hold of 
 that slippery rogue, Colonel Rogers, was 
 very nearly being gratified. Howe, when 
 encamped beyond New Rochelle, ordered 
 Rogers with his Queen s Rangers to take 
 possession of Mamaroneck, and there es 
 tablish an outpost. Lord Stirling, who 
 had now rejoined the army (having been 
 lately exchanged), heard of the where 
 abouts of Rogers, and determined, if pos 
 sible, to entrap him. A detachment of 
 Colonel Haslet s " Delawares and Mary- 
 landers" were selected for the purpose, 
 and the night was chosen, in or 
 der that darkness might increase 
 the chances of a successful surprise. Ev 
 erything was conducted with great cau 
 tion, and the Americans succeeded in 
 coming upon the "Rangers" and taking 
 them unawares. The guard and an offi 
 cer were put to the sword, thirty-six were 
 taken prisoners, and a pair of colors, sixty 
 stand of arms, and a supply of clothing 
 and provisions, captured. Rogers, how 
 ever, succeeded in making his escape, 
 having skulked off in the dark. 
 
 These skirmishes became quite fre 
 quent, and the spirit with which the 
 Americans conducted them forced Howe 
 to extreme vigilance, and checked the 
 confidence and rapidity of his move 
 ments. Washington thus, together with 
 Howe s delay in landing., was enabled to 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 outflank him. The whole movement of 
 the Americans was well conducted. By 
 keeping the Bronx river on his right, and 
 presenting a constant front of well-pro 
 tected posts to the enemy, Washington 
 was enabled to remove his stores and bag 
 gage, and rapidly to extend his line so 
 far into the country, as to defeat the en 
 emy s intention of getting in his rear and 
 hemming him in. 
 
 At White Plains, where Washington 
 had proceeded with the advanced divis 
 ion, he chose and fortified his position in 
 such a manner as to afford a cover for 
 his whole army. He defended the front 
 of his camp, which was situated on high 
 ground, by a double line of intrench- 
 ments. The right wing, as well as part 
 of the rear, was protected by a bend of 
 the river Bronx, while the left was se 
 cured by a deep lake. As the British 
 continued to advance, and after Wash 
 ington had succeeded in bringing up all 
 his baggage and stores, he ordered the 
 detached posts to be abandoned, and with 
 drew all his army, with the exception of 
 the garrison at Fort Washington, within 
 his fortified camp at White Plains. 
 
 Lee, of course, came in with his divis 
 ion, and none was more conspicuous than 
 he, looked up to as he was by all for his 
 supposed military skill, and made not the 
 less remarkable by his whims and oddi 
 ties. He lodged in a small house near 
 the road by which General Washington 
 and his officers frequently passed when 
 out reconnoitring. On returning, they 
 would occasionally stop and take a din 
 ner with Lee not, perhaps, so much on 
 account of the good fare of the house, as 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] WASHINGTON AND LEE AT WHITE PLAINS. 
 
 377 
 
 for the amusing characteristics of the host. 
 Lee, however, affected to be annoyed by 
 these frequent visits, and said one day to 
 his aids: "You must look me out anoth 
 er place, for I shall have Washington and 
 all his puppies continually calling upon 
 me, and they will eat me up !" The next 
 morning, seeing Washington, surrounded 
 by a suite of officers, coming up the road, 
 the eccentric Lee, expecting another vis 
 it, ordered his servant to chalk upon the 
 door of his house, " No victuals dressed 
 here to-day." When the cavalcade of 
 the chief passed by and read the obvious 
 hint, they spurred on their horses, and 
 laughingly returned to dine that day at 
 their own quarters. 
 
 Lee, notwithstanding, was one of the 
 most frequent companions of Washington 
 on these reconnoitring expeditions, and, 
 with no modest reserve, was always of 
 his opinions very free in criticising the dis 
 position of the army. Washington had 
 a deservedly great opinion of Lee s mili 
 
 tary talents, and always listened to his 
 suggestions with marked attention. On 
 one occasion, the two rode out together, 
 in company with some officers, when Lee 
 objected to the ground occupied by the 
 army, and, pointing to some heights in 
 the distance, said, " Yonder is the ground 
 we ought to occupy." "Let us, then, 
 go and view it," answered Washington. 
 He had, however, hardly turned his steed 
 in that direction, when a light-horseman 
 rode up in haste, and quickly exclaimed, 
 "The British are in the camp, sir!" 
 " Then, gentlemen, we have now other 
 business than reconnoitring," said Wash 
 ington ; and he galloped with all speed 
 back to the camp, followed by his com 
 panions. On reaching his headquarters, 
 he was informed that the advance-guards 
 had been driven in, and that the enemy 
 were advancing. Washington then dis 
 missed his officers, saying, " Gentlemen, 
 you will repair to your respective posts, 
 and do the best you can." :S: 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Washington takes a Final Survey. The Battle of White Plains. "A Brilliant but Formidable Sight." A Sudden 
 Change in Howe s Tactics. The Struggle. The British twice driven back. Young Alexander Hamilton secures his 
 Fieldpieces. The End. The Loss. The " Terrible Horse." The Sufferings and Hardships of the American Troops. 
 Contempt of the British. Hard Work with Spade and Pick. A Night of Expectations. An Incident. Washington 
 retires with his Whole Army. Howe outmanoeuvred. Evacuation of White Plains. Burning of the Church. The 
 Denunciation of the Act by Washington. 
 
 1776, 
 
 THOUGH the intelligence of the 
 advance of the enemy came some 
 what suddenly to Washington and his re 
 connoitring-party, the army had already 
 
 48 
 
 been posted in order of battle, and was 
 not unprepared to meet the threatened 
 attack. Washington, however, rode along 
 
 * Heath s Memoirs, p. 77. 
 
378 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT TI. 
 
 the lines to take a final survey, to en 
 courage his men, and make such changes 
 in the disposition of his troops as the cir 
 cumstances of the moment might suggest. 
 On the right, within a short distance of 
 the camp, there was a height called Chat- 
 terton s hill. This was an advantageous 
 position, as it commanded the right wing, 
 which, however, was somewhat protected 
 by the river Bronx, which enclosed by its 
 windings that part of the camp within an 
 elbow. Some militia had already been 
 posted upon the hill ; but Washington 
 now sent Colonel Haslet, with his spirit 
 ed Delawares and Marylanders, and two 
 pieces of artillery under Captain Alexan 
 der Hamilton, to reinforce the position, 
 while General M Dougall was ordered to 
 take the command of the whole. 
 
 The enemy now showed them 
 selves, advancing in great force 
 along the acclivities of the heights upon 
 which they had been encamped. They 
 came on in two columns, their right un 
 der the command of Sir Henry Clinton, 
 and their left under the Hessian De Heis- 
 ter. It was a fine October noon, and the 
 arms and gay accoutrements of the well- 
 appointed army glistening in the mid-day 
 sun, appeared to the eyes of the Ameri 
 cans "a brilliant but a formidable sight." 
 The solid British columns moved stead 
 ily on, bearing directly for Washington s 
 front, apparently with the view of driving 
 everything before them by main strength. 
 As they approach the village of White 
 Plains, and toward the American breast 
 works, there is a sudden pause in the 
 march, as if momentarily hesitating in 
 their purpose. The general officers ride 
 
 Oct. 28. 
 
 up and gather together in the middle of 
 a wheatfield, and hold council. Soon the 
 result is apparent: Howe changes his pur 
 pose. His right and centre are still mo 
 tionless., but there is a great stir on his 
 left. The artillery is rapidly drawn into 
 position and pointed toward Chatterton 
 hill, on Washington s right ; and working- 
 parties hurry forward to the Bronx river, 
 followed by a large detachment of Brit 
 ish and Hessian troops, commanded by 
 General Leslie. At the same moment, a 
 Hessian brigade, under Colonel Rahl, falls 
 back to some distance from the left wing, 
 and covers the Bronx below. 
 
 General Leslie, under the cover of the 
 artillery, which keeps up a constant and 
 heavy fire, passes over with his whole de 
 tachment,and, leaving his cavalry to skirt 
 the base, pushes directly up the hill with 
 his body of grenadiers and lightrinfantry. 
 His troops are th nned by the two field 
 pieces under the skilful handling of the 
 young Hamilton, and severely galled by 
 the musketry of the Marylanders. Rahl 
 has in the meantime crossed the river be 
 low, and is ascending the hill toward the 
 right flank of the Americans. The two 
 detachments now form a junction and 
 throng up the heights together, filling 
 every ravine and covering every acclivi 
 ty with their numbers. 
 
 The American militia soon disposed of 
 themselves. A shot from the enemy s 
 artillery at the beginning of the engage 
 ment had carried away one man s thigh, 
 and so frightened the others, that Gener 
 al M Dougall had great difficulty in keep 
 ing them from running away. He finally 
 posted them,however, behind some stone- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF WHITE PLAINS. 
 
 379 
 
 walls, and had got them in a fair way of 
 doing some service, when the sight of 
 about two hundred and fifty British light- 
 horse, dashing about the base of the hill, 
 so alarmed them, that they at once took 
 to their heels ! 
 
 The combined force of Leslie and Rahl 
 did not gain the summit of the hill with 
 out a hard fight. M Dougall, by the cow 
 ardice of the militia, had been left with 
 only six hundred men. but these were 
 the brave troops of Haslet, Smallwood, 
 andRitzema,and they clung to the ground 
 with such resolution, and resisted the en 
 emy so spiritedly, that the British were 
 twice driven back, and did not finally win 
 the position until after a hard struggle, 
 wdiich lasted for nearly an hour. Gen 
 eral M Dougall brought off the remnant 
 of his men in good order, who disputed 
 every inch of ground with the enemy, as 
 the latter pursued them down the hill, 
 until they were met by General Putnam 
 and a detachment of troops to cover their 
 retreat to the camp. Young Hamilton 
 succeeded in securing his two effective 
 fieldpieces, and nothing was left behind 
 but the bare breastworks upon the hill. 
 Even the wounded were carefully carried 
 off the field. The loss on both sides was 
 about equal, amounting to some three 
 hundred each in killed, wounded, and ta 
 ken prisoners. 
 
 The British, in possession of Chatter- 
 ton hill, busied themselves in strengthen 
 ing the position by additional intrench- 
 ments and breastworks. General Howe 
 contented himself for the rest of the day 
 with the success of the morning, and tow 
 ard evening merely moved his right wing 
 
 closer to the American camp, so that his 
 whole front presented a semicircle. The 
 British troops, resting on their arms du 
 ring the night, waited for further actio 
 until the coming of the next day. 
 
 The American militiamen, who had 
 been so frightened by the sight of the 
 English cavalry, gradually in scattered 
 groups found their way back to the lines 
 from the neighboring hills to which they 
 had fled. The undisciplined provincial 
 troops seem to have had as great a dread 
 of a horse with a trooper on his back as 
 the ancient Mexicans when they beheld 
 the mounted warriors of Cortez. Wash 
 ington, perceiving that this absurd fear 
 of cavalry was creating a great deal of 
 mischief, found it necessary to issue an 
 order, in which he says : " Observing that 
 the army seems unacquainted with the 
 enemy s horse, and that when any par 
 ties meet with them they do not oppose 
 them with the same alacrity which they 
 show in other cases, thinks it necessary 
 to inform the officers and soldiers that, 
 in such a broken country, full of stone 
 walls, no enemy is more to be despised, 
 as they can not leave the road." Wash 
 ington then tells his militiamen that they 
 can at any time attack a body of horse 
 to advantage by taking post in the woods 
 by the roads, or along the stone-walls, 
 where mounted troops will not venture 
 to follow them. Moreover, "as an en 
 couragement to any brave parties who 
 will endeavor to surprise some of them," 
 the general " offers one hundred dollars 
 for every trooper, with his horse and ac 
 coutrements, who shall be brought in, 
 and so in proportion for any part, to be 
 
380 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPATCT n. 
 
 divided according to the rank and the 
 pay of the party." 
 
 General Howe was no less disposed to 
 take advantage of this terror of cavalry 
 than Washington was to remove it. Hav 
 ing early observed how apt the militia 
 were to be scared away by a show of 
 mounted troops brandishing their swords, 
 Howe took care to collect throughout the 
 country all the horses he could, in order 
 to keep up his cavalry regiments, which 
 had been greatly thinned by the losses 
 at sea in the course of the long voyages 
 of the transports. He also wrote to the 
 British government for an additional sup 
 ply ; and, whenever occasion offered, he 
 was sure to send out his mounted troop 
 ers, to make as clattering and brilliant a 
 dash as possible, in order to frighten the 
 weak nerves of the uninitiated. 
 
 Washington was expecting an attack 
 at any moment. His lines were accord 
 ingly manned during the whole night, 
 and the men kept at work at the redoubts 
 and breastworks, with but rare intervals 
 of repose, when they were forced to lie 
 down in the " cold trenches." So much 
 exposed, so hard-worked, and in such a 
 wretched condition (from want of proper 
 food and clothing), were the American 
 troops, that some of the officers began to 
 believe that if the enemy did not destroy 
 the American army, it would perish of 
 itself without fighting. The British offi 
 cers looked on all this misery with undis 
 guised contempt, and spoke mockingly 
 of " the tatterdemalions who have but a 
 few coats among them but what are out 
 of elbows," and of " whole regiments in 
 which there is scarce a pair of breech- 
 
 Oct, 29, 
 
 es."* We shall find, however, that these 
 " tatterdemalion," ragged and shirtless as 
 they were, succeeded under Washington 
 in checking and outmanoeuvring all the 
 brilliant and haughty battalions mar 
 shalled by Sir William Howe and his 
 proud staff of officers. 
 
 Meager as Washington s resources were, 
 he made the most of them ; and in justice 
 to his troops it may be stated that how 
 ever poor a military show they might 
 make in battle array, they were indefati 
 gable in their labors with the pick and 
 the spade. They worked well and long 
 during that night of anxious expectation, 
 and, before morning, had doubled the in- 
 trenchments and raised three re 
 doubts. The breastworks were 
 rudely made of the best material at hand. 
 Cornstalks were plucked from the neigh 
 boring fields, and served, with the earth 
 clinging to their roots, the purpose of 
 sods and fascines. 
 
 General How r e, when he observed the 
 result of one night s work upon Washing 
 ton s line, seemed in no disposition to be 
 gin a general attack ; and, waiting for 
 reinforcements, he limited himself to an 
 occasional skirmish with the more ad 
 vanced American posts. Early in the 
 morning, however, he moved his right 
 wing still closer to the left of the Ameri 
 cans. Washington supposed that Howe s 
 design was to get to his rear, according 
 to his original plan. Every measure was 
 taken, therefore, to prevent this move 
 ment. The stores and baggage were hur 
 ried toward the rear as fast as possible, 
 and the left of the army fell some dis- 
 
 * Quoted by Irving. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 A SKIRMISH THE WIDOWS GARDEN. 
 
 381 
 
 tance back, to prevent being outflanked 
 by Howe s advancing right wing. When 
 this manoeuvre of the enemy began, Wash 
 ington s secretary was writing to Congress 
 thus : u Our post, from its situation, is not 
 so advantageous as could be wished, and 
 was only intended as temporary and oc 
 casional, till the stores belonging to the 
 army, which had been deposited here, 
 could be removed. The enemy coming 
 on so suddenly has distressed us much. 
 They are now close at hand, and most 
 probably will in a little time commence 
 their second attack ; we expect it every 
 hour; perhaps it is beginning. I have 
 just heard the report of some cannon." 
 
 The firing which was heard by the sec 
 retary came from a hot skirmish between 
 a detachment of Hessians and Colonel 
 Glover s brigade. The colonel held pos 
 session of a height in advance of the 
 American camp, where he had posted his 
 troops behind a breastwork mounted with 
 one brass twenty-four, a six and a three 
 pounder, and three iron twelve-pounders. 
 As the British closed in with their col 
 umns, in order to approach nearer to the 
 American camp, Glover determined to 
 harass them. Their line extends from 
 right to left, with the cavalry and artil 
 lery in front, as far as can be seen, and 
 no less a number than twelve thousand 
 men appear to be under arms. They ap 
 proach Glover s position, but he withholds 
 his fire until some of the troops have en 
 tered a valley and are about to ascend 
 the heights which bound it. He then 
 begins with his three-pounder, next with 
 his six, and finally w r ith his twenty-four. 
 The British are much confused by this 
 
 brisk cannonade, but persevere in trying 
 to mount the high ground with their 
 light-horse and artillery. After firing a 
 few rounds, however, they are obliged to 
 retire, and content themselves with a po 
 sition farther back, and out of reach of 
 Glover s cannon. 
 
 Howe evidently was not disposed to 
 risk a general engagement ; and, having 
 encamped his army within " long cannon- 
 shot" of the American lines, he 
 awaited the arrival of reinforce 
 ments under Earl Percy, who had been 
 ordered up from Harlem, where he was 
 stationed. 
 
 While the two armies lay opposite to 
 each other, an incident occurred which a 
 diligent annalist has not thought too friv 
 olous to record, in the absence, during 
 that night of expectation, of more impor 
 tant events. It happened that a garden 
 of a widow woman, which lay between 
 the two hostile camps, had been repeat 
 edly robbed. Her son, a mere boy, and 
 "little of his age," asked permission to 
 try to find out and secure the thief, in 
 case he should return. His mother hav 
 ing consented, the lad, armed with a gun, 
 concealed himself at night among the 
 overgrown weeds of the garden. Soon 
 a great strapping Highlander came gro 
 ping his way among the cabbages, and, 
 having filled a large bag he carried, pre 
 pared to decamp. The lad stole softly 
 after him, and, coming close to the fellow, 
 cocked his gun and called out : " You are 
 my prisoner. If you attempt to throw 
 your bag down, I ll shoot you dead ! Go 
 forward in that road." The man did not 
 venture to turn around, but went on as 
 
382 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Oct. 30, 
 
 he was bid, with the boy and his gun 
 close after him, and was thus driven into 
 the American camp, where he was se 
 cured. The strapping grenadier was now 
 permitted to come to a halt, whereupon 
 he threw down his bag, and turned to 
 look at his captor. When he discovered 
 that he was a mere boy, and "little of 
 his age," he gave vent to his indignant 
 vexation, exclaiming, " A British grena 
 dier made prisoner by such a d d brat 
 
 by such a d d brat!"* 
 
 Another day passed without 
 any show of active hostility. The 
 British general, however, kept his troops 
 at work in entrenching his camp. In the 
 evening Earl Percy arrived, and the next 
 morning was appointed for the attack 
 upon the American lines. But at mid 
 night, a heavy storm with wind and rain 
 began, and continued during the whole 
 of the following day, so that the British 
 commander was again forced to remain 
 inactive. 
 
 Washington, having learned from a de 
 serter, of the arrival of Earl Percy, and 
 of Howe s intended movements, deter 
 mined to shift his position. According 
 ly, in the course of the night, he 
 withdrew his army from White 
 Plains, for a distance of five miles, to the 
 higher ground toward Newcastle and the 
 Croton river, leaving a strong rear-guard 
 on the heights and in the woods of White 
 
 * Gordon. 
 
 Oct. 31. 
 
 Plains. Washington s ground was admi 
 rably chosen ; and with the breastworks 
 which he threw up, extending from hill 
 to hill, he could bid defiance to the ene 
 my. Howe, becoming aware in the ear 
 ly morning of this movement, discovered 
 that, with all his brilliant advantages, he 
 had been outmanoeuvred, and that it w r as 
 hopeless to attempt by an assault to dis 
 lodge the Americans from their new po 
 sition. He therefore contented himself 
 with making a demonstration against 
 Washington s rear-guard on the heights 
 of White Plains; but, before his troops 
 could advance to the attack, they were 
 driven back again into camp, to take shel 
 ter from the heavy rain. 
 
 During the night while the Americans 
 were evacuating White Plains, the village 
 church, the courthouse, and other build 
 ings, were set on fire and burnt by the 
 order of a major in the command of the 
 guards and sentries, w r hile " heated with 
 liquor." Washington was indignant at 
 this act, and warmly expressed himself 
 upon the subject, saying in the general 
 order of the next day : " It is with the 
 utmost astonishment and abhorrence that 
 the general is informed that some base 
 and cowardly wretches last night set fire 
 to the courthouse and other buildings, 
 which the enemy had left. The army 
 may rely on it that they shall be brought 
 to justice, and meet with the punishment 
 they deserve." 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE BRITISH RETREAT AMERICANS REVOLT. 
 
 383 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 The Enemy decamp. Puzzling Conduct. Washington still worried about the Army. Rebellion among the Troops. 
 The Americans abandon Fort Independence, &c., on the Approach of the Enemy. Fort Washington strengthened. 
 Doubts about holding it. Washington opposed, Greene in favor, and carries the Day. Washington at Peekskill. 
 The Great Preparations of the Enemy against Fort Washington. Description of the Fort. The Fort invested. Sum 
 mons to surrender. Magaw s Spirited Response. The Defences. Operations of the Assailants. 
 
 1776, 
 
 THE British, after remaining sev 
 eral days in front of the American 
 lines without attempting anything, final 
 ly broke up their encampments on the 
 4th of November, and marched toward 
 the North river and Kingsbridge. Their 
 purpose was a matter of anxious specu 
 lation in Washington s camp. Some sup 
 posed that they were going into winter- 
 quarters, and would sit down in New York, 
 content with doing nothing more than in 
 vesting Fort Washington. The general 
 himself wrote : " I can not subscribe whol 
 ly 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, pro 
 vided he is going to New York. He must 
 attempt something on account of his rep 
 utation ; for what has he done as yet with 
 his great army ?" Governor Livingston, 
 of New Jersey, to whom this letter was 
 written, was then urged by Washington 
 to place the militia of his state on the 
 best possible footing, and recommended 
 to see that the inhabitants contiguous to 
 the water should be prepared to remove 
 their stock, grains, effects, and carriages, 
 
 upon the earliest notice. Washington 
 believed that New Jersey was to be the 
 scene of the coming campaign, and de 
 clared that, as soon as he was satisfied 
 that the movement just made by the en 
 emy was a real retreat, and not a feint, 
 he would, with the utmost expedition, 
 throw over into Jersey a body of troops, 
 to assist in checking Howe s progress. 
 
 Washington was still anxious lest he 
 should be left almost without troops. The 
 dissolution of the army was fast approach 
 ing, and there seemed but little prospect 
 of levying a new one. " The situation of 
 our affairs," he says, " is critical and alarm 
 ing."* He wrote to the assembly of Mas 
 sachusetts to raise at once four thousand 
 men properly accoutred and equipped, to 
 supply the place of those under General 
 Lincoln, who it was feared would not be 
 prevailed upon to stay a moment longer 
 than the time they first engaged for. 
 
 The New- York militia were in a state 
 of mutiny, and, refusing to do duty, de 
 clared that General Howe had promised 
 them peace, liberty , and safety, and that was 
 all they wanted. " What is to be done 
 with them ?" writes General Greene, who 
 had come over from Fort Lee, and found 
 the New-Yorkers stationed at Kingsbridge 
 
384 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATIT II. 
 
 in this condition of almost open revolt. 
 "This spirit," he declares, "should be 
 checked in its infancy I propose," he 
 adds, " to send to the colonel about fifty 
 men, and I have directed him to acquaint 
 the militia that if they refuse to do duty, 
 agreeably to the orders of the state, I 
 will send up a regiment and order them 
 to Fort Lee, to do duty there." 
 
 Knyphausen had been despatched by 
 General Howe, previous to his own move 
 ment in that direction, with six battalions 
 of Hessians and Waldeckers, to take pos 
 session of Kingsbridge. He started from 
 New Rochelle, and marched across the 
 country to the west, and, after crossing 
 the Harlem river at Dykeman s bridge, 
 took up his post on a plain near King s 
 bridge. The Americans, deserting Fort 
 Independence and all the works in that 
 neighborhood on his approach, retired to 
 Fort Washington. 
 
 General Howe had now reached the 
 North river with his main body, and was 
 
 encamped at Dobbs s ferry. A 
 Nov. 6. _ . J 
 
 frigate and two transports were 
 
 immediately despatched by his brother, 
 Lord Howe, from the fleet in New-York 
 harbor, to carry supplies to the general. 
 They succeeded without difficulty in pas 
 sing through the chcvaux-de-fnse and the 
 forts again, and anchored safely in the 
 river. As the main purpose of holding 
 Fort Washington seemed to be thus en 
 tirely frustrated, the commander-in-chief 
 had doubts about the expediency of de 
 fending that post. He accord- 
 Nov, 8, . 3 . 
 
 ingly writes to General Greene : 
 
 The late passage of three vessels up the 
 North river, of which we have just re 
 
 ceived advice, is so plain a proof of the 
 inefficacy of all the obstructions we have 
 thrown into it, that I can not but think 
 it will justify a change in the disposition 
 which has been made. If we can not pre 
 vent vessels from passing up, and the en 
 emy are possessed of the surrounding 
 country, what valuable purpose can it an 
 swer to attempt to hold a post from which 
 the expected benefit can not 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 Wash 
 ington as you may judge best, and so for re 
 voking the order given to Colonel Magaw 
 to defend it to the last." The opinion of 
 Washington is here very explicitly de- 
 clared against holding the post, but he 
 modestly waived his own views, and, as 
 he had great confidence in Greene s judg 
 ment, he left more to his discretion than 
 he otherwise probably would have done. 
 The defence of Fort Washington was 
 a pet measure with Greene ; and, in spite 
 of the opposition of the commander-in- 
 chief, of General Lee, Colonel Reed, and 
 the most skilful of the officers, he advo 
 cated it with resolute pertinacity. Gen 
 eral Greene answers Washington s letter, 
 saying : " The passing of the ships up the 
 river is, to be sure, a full proof of the in 
 sufficiency of the obstructions to stop the 
 ships from going up ; but that garrison 
 employs double the number of men to in 
 vest it that we have to occupy it. They 
 must keep troops to Kingsbridge, to pre 
 vent a communication with the country ; 
 and they dare not leave a very small 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. J 
 
 WASHINGTON S INSTRUCTIONS TO LEE. 
 
 385 
 
 number, for fear our people should attack 
 them. Upon the whole, I can not help 
 thinking that the garrison is of advan 
 tage ; and I can not conceive it to be in 
 any great danger." 
 
 Greene was confirmed in his view of 
 the strength of the position by the con 
 fident declaration of Colonel Magaw, in 
 command of the garrison, that it would 
 take the enemy, to get it, at least until 
 the end of December. Moreover, Greene 
 held that if matters should grow desper 
 ate, the men could be brought off at any 
 time ; and even the stores, though not so 
 easily removed, might be got away. Fi 
 nally, he concludes, " if the enemy do not 
 find the fort an object of importance, they 
 will not trouble themselves about it ; if 
 they do, it is a full proof that they feel 
 an injury from our possessing it. Our 
 giving it up will open a free communi 
 cation with the country by the way of 
 Kingsbridge. That must be a great ad 
 vantage to them, and injury to us." 
 
 The enemy now prepared to invest 
 Fort Washington ; and the garrison, in 
 command of the brave Colonel Magaw, 
 to defend it. 
 
 Washington, believing that Howe was 
 preparing for an expedition to New Jer 
 sey, disposed his troops accordingly. The 
 Maryland and Virginia regiments, under 
 Lord Stirling, were the first sent across, 
 and the commander-in-chief himself pre 
 pared soon to follow them. The posts in 
 the Highlands, including the passes on 
 both sides of the Hudson, and the upper 
 forts, Constitution, Montgomery, and In 
 dependence, were placed under the com 
 mand of the faithful Heath, with his Con- 
 49 
 
 Nov. II, 
 
 necticut and Massachusetts troops, and a 
 brigade of New-York militia under Gen 
 eral George Clinton. Washington fol 
 lowed this division to Peekskill, 
 in order to examine the passes 
 in the Highlands, and direct the construc 
 tion of such works as might be neces 
 sary. 
 
 General Lee was left in command of 
 the troops remaining at the old encamp 
 ment at Newcastle. The confidence of 
 the commander-in-chief in Lee s capacity, 
 as well as Washington s own modest ap 
 preciation of himself in comparison with 
 his high esteem of his subordinate, may 
 be inferred from the nature of his " in 
 structions." 
 
 " The late movement of the enemy," 
 says Washington, " and the probability of 
 their having designs upon the Jerseys, 
 confirmed by sundry accounts from de 
 serters and prisoners ; rendering it neces 
 sary to throw a body of troops over the 
 North river, I shall immediately follow, 
 and the command of the army which 
 remains, after General Heath s division 
 marches to Peekskill, will devolve upon 
 you. 
 
 u A little time now 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 com 
 mand. I shall give no directions, there 
 fore, on this head, having the most entire 
 confidence in your judgment and milita 
 ry 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 rea 
 der the strong post we now hold more 
 
386 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 vulnerable ; or the enemy may find that 
 troops are assembled with more expedi 
 tion and in greater numbers than they 
 expected, on the Jersey shore, to oppose 
 them ; and as it is possible, from one or 
 the other of these motives, that they may 
 yet pay the army under your command 
 a visit, it will be unnecessary, I am per 
 suaded, to recommend to you the pro 
 priety of putting this post, if you stay at 
 it, into a proper posture of defence, and 
 of guarding against surprises. But I 
 would recommend it to your considera 
 tion, whether, should the above conjec 
 tures be realized, your retiring to Croton 
 bridge, and some strong post still more 
 easterly,covering the other passes through 
 the Highlands, may not be more advisa 
 ble than to run the hazard of an attack 
 with unequal numbers." 
 
 The troops under Lee now numbered 
 about eight thousand men. Among these 
 there were, however, over four thousand 
 militia from Massachusetts and Connecti 
 cut, whose term of service was about ex 
 piring. General Lee strove to induce 
 them to remain, and made one of his usu 
 al stirring appeals to their patriotism, re 
 minding them of the sacred cause in which 
 they were engaged. His eloquence, how 
 ever, proved of no avail, and the home 
 sick militiamen could not be persuaded 
 to remain even a single day beyond their 
 term. The governors of Connecticut and 
 Massachusetts were, nevertheless, doing 
 their best to fill their places by new lev 
 ies of militia. 
 
 Washington, after his arrival at Peeks- 
 kill, passed a day in inspecting the posts 
 and forts in the Highlands. He then, by 
 
 Nov. 13. 
 
 a circuitous march of about sixty miles 
 (which he was obliged to take in conse 
 quence of the British ships which opposed 
 the passage at the lower ferries of the 
 Hudson), repaired with five thousand men 
 to Hackensack, in New Jersey, where he 
 formed an encampment. Fort 
 Lee, on the river, where Greene 
 commanded, was in front of him, and this 
 was his daily post of observation. The 
 movements and intentions of the enemy 
 were still perplexing. Sir William Howe 
 had moved his main force from Dobbs s 
 ferry in the direction of Kingsbridge ; 
 " and it seems," says Washington, " to be 
 generally believed on all hands that the 
 investing of Fort Washington is one ob 
 ject they have in view ; but that can em 
 ploy but a small part of their force." He 
 thought that a southern expedition was 
 in tended, which opinion seemed to be con 
 firmed by the fact that many transports 
 were " wooding and watering." 
 
 Fort Washington was, however, at this 
 moment, the great object of all the ene 
 my s preparations. On the night of the 
 14th of November, thirty flat-boats had 
 been sent up from the British fleet in the 
 bay of New York, and, having passed up 
 the Hudson between the forts unobserved 
 in spite of all the watchfulness of the 
 American guards got safely into Spuy- 
 ten-Devil creek, and thence into the Har 
 lem river. At this point the boats were 
 kept in readiness for the use of General 
 Howe s army, now brought down and en 
 camped on Fordham heights, preparatory 
 to the investment of Fort Washington. 
 By means of this water-conveyance, the 
 British commander was enabled to throw 
 
REVOLUTION ATCY.] 
 
 INVESTMENT OF FORT WASHINGTON. 
 
 387 
 
 across the Harlem river at any point on 
 New- York island, above or below, those 
 troops which might be required to aid 
 his operations. 
 
 Mount Washington, which was destined 
 to be the scene of the coming conflict, 
 presents a good site for a defensive work. 
 The hill, with a height of some six hun 
 dred feet above the Hudson, is protected 
 on all sides, except toward the south, by 
 steep acclivities. Upon the summit is a 
 stretch of table-land, of several acres in 
 extent, which always affords some point 
 for the command of each approach. Here 
 was built the fort, which had been hastily 
 thrown up by Colonel Rufus Putnam soon 
 after the march of Washington s army 
 from Boston to New York. The design 
 was, to give a pentagonal form to the cit 
 adel, and surround it with five bastions. 
 However, from want of engineering skill, 
 of time, or of care, the works remained 
 incomplete, as may be gathered from this 
 description by one who was doing duty 
 in its defence : " There were no barracks, 
 or casemates, or fuel, or water, within the 
 body of the place. It was an open, earth 
 en construction, with ground at a short 
 distance on the back of it equally high, 
 if not higher ; without a ditch of any con 
 sequence, if there was a ditch at all ; no 
 outworks (an incipient one on the north, 
 not deserving the appellation), or any of 
 those exterior, multiplied obstacles and 
 defences, that could entitle it to the name 
 of a fortress, in any degree capable of 
 sustaining a siege. It required no paral 
 lels to approach it: the citadel was at once 
 within reach of the assailants."* 
 
 * Graydon. 
 
 It was garrisoned at first by only about 
 two thousand men, to which were added, 
 however, some troops from the flying 
 camp, sent over by General Greene from 
 Fort Lee, making the whole number near 
 ly three thousand, under the several com 
 mands of Colonels Magaw, Cadwallader, 
 Baxter, and Rawlings. Magaw, as the 
 senior of these officers, was command er- 
 in-chief of the post. He was a spirited 
 fellow, and spoke confidently of his abil 
 ity to hold the place. The original pur 
 pose of the fort (which was, to command 
 the entrance of the Hudson) had been so 
 often defeated by the enemy s ships and 
 boats defiantly passing it, that its defence 
 was by many considered unnecessary and 
 impolitic. The matter, however, had been 
 left to the discretion of General Greene, 
 and he encouraged Magaw in bravely re 
 sisting to the last. 
 
 The enemy now made such a disposi 
 tion of their troops, that they were ena 
 bled to environ the whole fortress. Gen 
 eral Kivyphausen was near Kingsbiidge, 
 at the north, with five hundred Hessians 
 and Waldeckers,in two divisions, the right 
 one of which was commanded by Colonel 
 Rahl. To the east was General Mathew, 
 at the head of the first and second battal 
 ions of guards, supported by Lord Corn- 
 wallis with the thirty-third regiment and 
 a body of British grenadiers. These were 
 on the east side of the Harlem river, which 
 they were ready to cross, under the cover 
 of two redoubts raised there for that pur 
 pose. Lord Percy had been ordered down 
 to the neighborhood of Harlem plains, 
 whence he was prepared with a large 
 force of English and Hessian troops to 
 
388 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Nov. 15, 
 
 attack the American position from the 
 south. A third division, composed prin 
 cipally of the forty-second regiment, was 
 under Lieutenant-Colonel Stirling, who 
 was directed to be in readiness to embark 
 on board the flat-boats, and drop down 
 the Harlem, with the view of making a 
 feint of landing, or such an attack as cir 
 cumstances would justify. Gen 
 eral Howe, being thus prepared, 
 summoned Magaw to surrender, threat 
 ening extremities in case of refusal. To 
 this summons Magaw unhesitatingly an 
 swered : 
 
 " SIR : If I rightly understand the pur 
 port of your message from General Howe, 
 communicated to Colonel Swoope, this 
 post is to be immediately surrendered, or 
 put to the sword. I think it rather a 
 mistake than a settled purpose of General 
 Howe, to act a part so unworthy of him 
 self and the British nation. But give me 
 leave to assure his excellency that, actu 
 ated by the most glorious cause that man 
 kind ever fought in, I am determined to 
 defend this post to the very last extrem- 
 
 ity. 
 
 "ROBERT MAGAW." 
 
 A copy of this spirited answer of Ma 
 gaw was handed to General Greene, who 
 was then at Fort Washington, and by him 
 despatched immediately to the command- 
 er-in-chief at Hackensack. Washington 
 at once hurried to Fort Lee, and, taking 
 a boat, began to push across the river. 
 He had got partly over, when he was met 
 by Generals Putnam and Greene, on their 
 return from Fort Washington. They in 
 formed him that the troops were in high 
 
 Nov. 16. 
 
 spirits, and would make a good defence. 
 Washington, after this satisfactory intel 
 ligence, and it being late at night, was 
 induced to return. 
 
 Magaw now prepared to defend his po 
 sition. Early next morning, he 
 posted his troops, partly in the 
 lines which had been thrown up by the 
 army in the neighborhood of Mount Wash- 
 ington.on evacuating New York, and part 
 ly on a commanding hill lying toward the 
 north. Magaw seemed conscious of the 
 inadequacy of the defences of the fort, 
 and therefore preferred, instead of coop 
 ing up his troops where they would be 
 ill able to resist an assault, to extend them 
 in such a way as to command, if possible, 
 the approaches to Mount Washington, 
 upon the summit of which stood the ill- 
 conditioned fortress. The lines thus oc 
 cupied by the American troops embraced 
 a circuit of some four or five miles ; and 
 when we recollect that the whole num 
 ber amounted to only about three thou 
 sand men, it may be easily conceived that 
 there could be at no single point any 
 great concentration of strength. An at 
 tacking force of nearly eight thousand 
 men at its command could therefore out 
 number greatly its opponents in every 
 direction. 
 
 On a hill to the northward of the fort 
 there was a redoubt, called Fort George. 
 Here Colonel Rawlings was posted, with 
 most of his troops, principally Maryland 
 riflemen. He held, however, with a few 
 men, an outpost called Cock-hill fort, sit 
 uated beyond, just at the entrance of 
 Spuyten-Devil creek ; and another, called 
 Fort Tryon, in the same direction, but 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR DEFENCE. 
 
 389 
 
 nearer Mount Washington. Colonel Raw- 
 lings presented a front to oppose Knyp- 
 hausen and his Hessians, stationed before 
 him on the plain reaching to Kingsbridge. 
 
 On the wooded and hilly banks of the 
 Harlem river, eastward of the fort, was 
 Colonel Baxter, with a body, chiefly of 
 militia, detached from the flying camp, 
 and sent by Greene at the last moment, 
 from New Jersey. These troops were not 
 very efficient, and so few in numbers in 
 proportion to the long extent of ground 
 to be guarded, that for a distance of a 
 mile or more the heights on the east, 
 along the Harlem river, w r ere in reality 
 without defence. Baxter was to watch 
 the movements of the enemy on the op 
 posite side of the river, where General 
 Mathew was posted, in readiness to cross 
 and attempt to make a landing in front 
 of the fort, under cover of the redoubts 
 which had been raised by the British for 
 that purpose. 
 
 Colonel Lambert Cadwallader, of Phil 
 adelphia, with about eight hundred men, 
 chiefly the Pennsylvania regiment of Ma- 
 gaw, was posted about two and a half 
 miles to the southward of the fort, to de 
 fend the American works in that quarter. 
 These were composed of two lines, each 
 about a mile in length, nearly parallel, 
 which extended from near the Harlem 
 river, across the island, to the Hudson. 
 The first line, toward New York, was " a 
 
 slight intrenchment, with a few weak bas 
 tions, without platforms for cannon, and 
 furnished with no other ordnance than a 
 few old iron pieces of small calibre, scarce 
 ly fit for use, and an iron six-pounder 
 mounted on trucks. The second and in 
 ner line was stronger, both from the na 
 ture of the ground, which afforded small 
 eminences for bastions closed in the rear, 
 and from having the intervals between 
 the bastions strongly picketed. The first 
 line seemed calculated rather for retard 
 ing the approach of the enemy, than as 
 a seriously defensive work ; it being noth 
 ing more (with the exception of the bas 
 tions) than a shallow ditch, with the earth 
 thrown outward. The second line was 
 formed at a proper distance from the first, 
 so as to protect the latter by musketry 
 as well as cannon, and to drive out the 
 enemy, should he get possession of it: 
 but this second line, on the day of the 
 attack of Fort Washington, was from ne 
 cessity wholly without defence, either of 
 troops or artillery of any description."* 
 Earl Percy, with his fifteen hundred Brit 
 ish and Hessians, threatened the fort on 
 the south. Colonel Cadwallader and his 
 eight hundred men were posted to defend 
 the outer lines, and if possible to prevent 
 his lordship s approach in that direction. 
 Colonel Magaw himself remained within 
 the fcrt. 
 
 * Gray don. 
 
390 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Fort Washington. The Attack of the Enemy. The Separate Divisions. Rahl with the Right of the Hessians. Knyp- 
 hausen with the Left. Their Reception by the Provincials. Mathew and the British Guards. Their Success. Death 
 of Baxter. Flight of his Men. Earl Percy and his Force. Spirited Resistance of Cadwallader. Dropping down the 
 Harlem River. The "Enemy secure a Landing. The Marylanders forced to retire. The Hard Struggle. Capture of 
 Forts George, Cock-Hill, and Tryon. Concentration of the Hessians. Successful Retreat of Cadwallader. Wash 
 ington watching the Movement. His Company. His Tenderness. The Americans driven within the Fort, and sum 
 moned to surrender. Washington sends a Messenger, to advise holding out. Too late. Surrender of Fort Washing 
 ton. Lee s Emotions. " A Cursed Affair." Washington s Grief. Greene consoles Himself. The Policy of holding 
 Fort Washington considered. The Loss. Fort Lee abandoned to the Enemy. The Retreat of Washington in New 
 Jersey. Critical State of Affairs. A Strong Call for Reinforcements. General Discouragement. 
 
 1776, 
 
 AT noon, on the 16th of Novem 
 ber, the enemy, under the cover of 
 a powerful artillery, began their attack 
 upon Fort Washington simultaneously 
 from all points. From the north, Knyp- 
 hausen and Rahl approached with their 
 separate divisions of Hessians. On the 
 east, the British redoubts from the oppo 
 site side of the Harlem river began a 
 heavy cannonade, under cover of which 
 General Mathew embarked his "British 
 Guards," and pushed across the stream. 
 On the south, Earl Percy marched with 
 his force from the plains of Harlem, and 
 approached the American lines ; while 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Stirling began to float 
 down the Harlem river with another di 
 vision of British troops. 
 
 Colonel Rahl, who commanded the right 
 of the Hessians, pushed on for the Cock- 
 hill fort, and began to clamber up the 
 woody height, in the face of a sharp fire 
 from the small party which defended that 
 post. General Knyphausen at the same 
 moment moved with his left against Fort 
 George. He soon got entangled in a 
 woody defile, which led to the rugged 
 
 heights he was attempting to ascend, and 
 was thus exposed to a murderous fire 
 from Colonel Rawlings s riflemen, as well 
 as from the guns of the redoubt above. 
 
 Mathew, with his British guards, under 
 the cover of a fire from the redoubts, soon 
 crossed the river, in front and to the east 
 of the fort. Colonel Baxter, posted with 
 his militiamen on the heights, was only 
 able to offer a short and ineffectual re 
 sistance to the landing of the enemy. 
 Baxter, while cheering on his men, was 
 killed by a British officer ; and the Amer 
 ican troops, overpowered by numbers, 
 fled to the fort : while the British, taking 
 a redoubt and two hundred prisoners on 
 their way, inclined toward the left, and 
 began to skirt the southern border of 
 Mount Washington, apparently with the 
 view of cutting off Colonel Cadwallader s 
 force stationed within the outer line be 
 low. 
 
 In the meantime, Earl Percy, having 
 marched across the plains of Harlem, ap 
 proached the American lines from the 
 south, under the cover of a wood, where 
 he began to form his troops for an assault, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.! FORTS GEORGE, COCK-HILL, AND TRYON, TAKEN. 
 
 391 
 
 and at the same time to fire with his ar 
 tillery upon the American breastworks. 
 Cadwallader s Pennsylvanians kept firm 
 ly to their ground, and spiritedly resisted 
 the enemy as they approached. Cadwal 
 lader, now learning that the British were 
 dropping down the Harlem river in large 
 force, apparently with the view of getting 
 between him and the fort, detached a hun 
 dred and fifty men, with an eighteen- 
 pounder, to dispute their landing. The 
 detachment arrived in time to open a fire 
 upon the assailants before they reached 
 the shore, and it was well directed and 
 deadly. Nevertheless, the superiority of 
 the enemy s strength in men and artillery 
 enabled them to force a landing, and, by 
 extending themselves, to gain the heights 
 upon the bank of the river. Here there 
 was a sharp contest ; but, with the odds 
 of eight hundred British against one hun 
 dred and fifty Americans, the latter were 
 so outnumbered, that they were obliged 
 to retreat toward the fort. The British 
 troops which had thus made good their 
 landing were those under Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Stirling, and they now marched 
 unopposed toward the southern acclivity 
 of Mount Washington, and, together with 
 Mathew s division, were endeavoring to 
 interpose themselves between Cadwalla- 
 der and the fort. 
 
 The Marylanders, under Rawlings, at 
 the north, had made a brave defence, but 
 they were finally obliged to retire to the 
 fort. Knyphausen, however, did not win 
 the position until after a long and hard 
 struggle. The American riflemen contin 
 ued their fire until their arms became so 
 fouled from repeated use as to be of no 
 
 longer service, and only gave way when 
 overpowered by the numbers of the ene 
 my. Knyphausen having carried Fort 
 George, and Rahl the outposts of Cock- 
 hill and Fort Tryon, the two combined 
 their forces and marched up Mount Wash 
 ington to within a short distance of the 
 fortress, and took post behind a large 
 stone-house. 
 
 Cadwallader, finding himself about to 
 be caught between two fires, called off 
 his troops from the right and left of the 
 line, and ordered a retreat. He supposed 
 that Mathew and Stirling would take pos 
 session of the second and inner line ; but. 
 as they suspected that the enclosed bas 
 tions concealed a number of men, they 
 seemed to hesitate. Cadwallader took 
 advantage of this pause, and pushed rap 
 idly for the fort, in a direction toward the 
 North river. He made good his retreat, 
 and, though attacked upon his flank by 
 Stirling, and pursued in the rear by Lord 
 Percy, succeeded in gaining the fort with 
 but a small loss. 
 
 Washington, with Greene, Putnam, and 
 Thomas Paine, watched from Fort Lee 
 every movement during this engagement 
 with anxious interest ; and when he saw 
 the Hessians in pursuit of the brave troops 
 of Rawlings, bayoneting them even when 
 asking for quarter, "he cried with the 
 tenderness of a child, and exclaimed at 
 the barbarity that was practised." 
 
 When the American troops had been 
 driven into the fort, and the enemy had 
 thronged up the hill from all sides within 
 a few hundred yards of the fortress, Colo 
 nel Rahl, who was first on the ground 
 with his column, sent in a summons to 
 
892 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Magaw to surrender. Washington, see 
 ing from Fort Lee a flag of truce going 
 into the fortress, understood the object, 
 and immediately wrote a note to Colonel 
 Magaw, directing him to hold out, and he 
 would endeavor in the evening to bring 
 off the garrison. A Captain Gooch brave 
 ly volunteered to be the bearer of the 
 message, and, hurrying down to the river, 
 jumped into a small boat, pushed across, 
 landed on the shore, ran up to the fort, 
 delivered Washington s letter, and hur 
 ried back, dodging the Hessian guards by 
 the way, who attempted to bayonet him 
 as he passed. He reached the shore, and, 
 leaping into his boat, returned in safety 
 to Fort Lee. 
 
 The letter was, however, too late : Ma 
 gaw had already entered too far into a 
 treaty to retract, and now delivered up 
 the fort, and surrendered the garrison as 
 prisoners-of-war, as he could " obtain no 
 other terms ;" but the men were allowed 
 to keep possession of their baggage, and 
 the officers of their swords. The arms, 
 ammunition, and stores, however, were all 
 given up. 
 
 "When General Lee," says Gordon, 
 " read the letter, sent by express, giving 
 an account of Fort Washington being ta 
 ken, resentment and vexation led him, 
 unfeeling as he was in common, to weep 
 plentifully." He wrote to Washington : 
 " Oh, general, why would you be over- 
 persuaded by men of inferior judgment 
 to your own ? It was a cursed affair !" 
 
 Washington himself grieved at it no 
 less than Lee. He writes to his brother 
 Augustine : " This is a most unfortunate 
 affair, and has given me great mortifica 
 
 tion ; as we have lost not only two thou 
 sand men that were there, but a good 
 deal of artillery, and some of the best 
 arms we had. And what adds to my mor 
 tification is, that this post, after the last 
 ships went past it, was held contrary to 
 my wishes and opinions, 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 Con 
 gress having been received strongly ex 
 pressive 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 know 
 ing that this could not be done unless 
 there were batteries to protect the ob 
 struction, I did not care to give an abso 
 lute order for withdrawing the garrison, 
 till I could get round and see the situa 
 tion of things, and then it became too 
 late, as the fort 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 liis opinion differed 
 from mine, it unhappily was delayed too 
 long, to my great grief; as I think Gener 
 al Howe, considering his army and ours, 
 would have have had a poor tale to tell 
 without it, and would have found it diffi 
 cult, unless some southern expedition may 
 prove successful, to reconcile the people 
 of England to the conquest of a few piti 
 ful islands, none of which were defensible, 
 considering the great number of their 
 ships, and the power they have by sea to 
 surround and render them unapproach 
 able." 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE FALL OF FOET WASHINGTON. 
 
 393 
 
 The whole letter is pervaded by a tone 
 of melancholy. Washington, after mourn 
 ing over the difficulties in levying proper 
 troops, says that he is almost compelled 
 " to bid adieu to every hope of getting 
 an army from which any services are to 
 be expected ; the different states, without 
 regard to the qualifications of an officer, 
 quarrelling about the appointments, and 
 nominating such as are not fit to be shoe 
 blacks, from the local attachments of this 
 or that member of assembly. I am wea 
 ried almost to death with the retrograde 
 motion of things, and I solemnly protest," 
 he declares, " that a pecuniary reward of 
 twenty thousand pounds a year w T ould 
 not induce me to undergo what I do ; 
 and after all, perhaps, to lose my charac 
 ter, as it is impossible, under such a va 
 riety of distressing circumstances, to con 
 duct matters agreeably to public expec 
 tation or even to the expectation of those 
 who employ me, as they will not make 
 proper allowance for the difficulties their 
 own errors have occasioned." 
 
 General Greene consoled himself, for 
 the loss of his pet fortress, by the reflec 
 tion that the enemy had " suffered great 
 ly on the north side of Fort Washington," 
 where Colonel Rawlings s regiment was 
 posted, and had " behaved with great spir 
 it." He moreover persisted that the fort 
 would not have been given up could Colo 
 nel Magaw have got the men to man the 
 lines. He continued to declare that Fort 
 Washington was tenable, and, when re 
 proached for having attempted to hold 
 it, exclaimed, " I would to God we had 
 had ten thousand men there I"* The 
 
 * Memoirs of our Own Times, by General J. Wilkinson. 
 50 
 
 holding of Fort Washington, however, 
 was almost universally considered an er 
 ror on the part of Greene ; but we shall 
 find that he amply redeemed it by his 
 glorious successes in the future. 
 
 When the British hoisted their flag at 
 the fort, its name was changed to Knyp- 
 hausen, and that general was left in com 
 mand of it, with a garrison of his Hessians. 
 By the surrender, two thousand eight 
 hundred Americans, according to Sir Wil 
 liam Howe s return, became his prisoners ; 
 and these were marched, the very mid 
 night after their capture, to the city of 
 New York. It has been estimated that 
 the enemy lost, in English and Hessians, 
 over a thousand men. This is probably 
 an exaggeration.* The British acknowl 
 edged a loss of only eight hundred. 
 
 The next object of the enemy, after 
 the capture of Fort Washington, was Fort 
 Lee, on the Jersey shore opposite. Corn- 
 
 wallis, with six thousand troops, 
 
 . . Nov. 20. 
 
 crossed the Hudson from the en 
 campment near Yonkers, and landed on 
 the Jersey shore at a place called Closter, 
 about a mile and a half from the English 
 Neighborhood. The flat-boats which had 
 been brought up from the bay of New 
 York, and stationed in Spuyten-Devil 
 creek, afforded him the means of trans 
 port, and he was thus enabled to carry 
 his men rapidly across the river, while 
 the ships-of-war protected their passage. 
 Cornwallis, on debarking, immediately 
 formed his men, and marched along the 
 Jersey shore toward the object of attack. 
 
 * Gordon says, " It is imagined on good grounds that the 
 royal army lost in the attack full twelve hundred men, in 
 killed and wounded." 
 
394 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 As Fort Lee was not tenable, and of 
 no possible advantage after the loss of 
 Fort Washington, it had been determined 
 to evacuate it. The ammunition and some 
 of the stores had already been removed, 
 when intelligence was brought early in 
 the morning, while General Greene was 
 in bed, of the approach of the enemy. He 
 immediately ordered the garrison out and 
 marched them to join the commander-in- 
 chief at Hackensack. The British were 
 on the banks of the North river, only six 
 miles above the fort; and their evident 
 intention was, to draw a line from that 
 point to the bridge across the Hacken 
 sack, and thus hem in Washington s force 
 between the two rivers. The American 
 commander, however, was too quick for 
 his lordship, and gained the bridge be 
 fore him : he thus secured a retreat for 
 all his men, but was forced to leave be 
 hind him some hundred barrels of flour, 
 most of the cannon, and " a considerable 
 parcel of tents and baggage." Finding 
 himself still enclosed between two rivers, 
 the Hackensack and the Passaic, and in 
 the same danger of being pent up as be 
 fore, should the enemy continue to ad 
 vance, Washington was obliged to cross 
 the Passaic and retreat to Newark. Even 
 here he did not propose to make a stand. 
 The level and open nature of the coun 
 try forbade it ; and his force, which was 
 now only about thirty-five hundred men, 
 did not admit of the possibility of a pitched 
 battle with the army of Cornwallis. He 
 encamped at Newark, as the British did 
 not seem in a hurry to molest him. Wash 
 ington, however, was prepared at a mo 
 ment s notice to retreat to Brunswick, in 
 
 order to form a junction with the troops 
 at that place under the command of Lord 
 Stirling. 
 
 Washington was fully conscious of his 
 danger. Flying, with a dispirited rem 
 nant of troops (amounting in all to little 
 more than three thousand men), before 
 the triumphant army of the enemy, he 
 might well say, " The situation of our af 
 fairs is truly critical, and such as requires 
 uncommon exertions on our part." In 
 order that Congress might be fully ap 
 prized of the weakness of his position, 
 and of the necessity of obtaining early 
 succor, it was determined by the com 
 mand er-in-chief, with the advice of all his 
 general officers, to send General Mifflin 
 to Philadelphia, to the end that he might 
 make known personally the severe straits 
 in which the American army was placed. 
 Washington used every exertion to ob 
 tain reinforcements. He wrote to Liv 
 ingston, governor of New Jersey, to give 
 all the aid in his power, and try to induce 
 that state to do more than it had done ; 
 for Washington found that, instead of 
 meeting with "many of the militia," as 
 he had expected on his arrival, there were 
 not more than from four to five hundred 
 at the different posts. General Schuyler 
 was also written to, and directed to send 
 down from the army in the northern de 
 partment the New-Jersey and Pennsylva 
 nia troops. General Lee had been re 
 peatedly urged to come over from his 
 encampment at Newcastle, with the regi 
 ments under his command. The flying 
 camp, which was on the point of dissolv 
 ing, Washington was anxious to retain 
 in service ; and in his letter to Congress 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 LEE URGED TO CROSS THE HUDSON. 
 
 395 
 
 he suggests that an "early and immediate 
 supply of money" should be sent to pay 
 them, as it u might have a happy effect." 
 With the srnallness and wretched con 
 dition of his force, and the difficulty with 
 which his efforts to increase the one and 
 improve the other were opposed, it was 
 not surprising that Washington should 
 have almost despaired of bringing an ar 
 my into the field capable of meeting the 
 enemy. It was under such a feeling of 
 discouragement in his emergency at New 
 ark that he asked Colonel Reed, " Should 
 we retreat to the back parts of Pennsyl 
 
 vania, will the Pennsylvanians support 
 us?" "If the lo\ver counties are sub 
 dued and give up, the back counties will 
 do the same," was the discouraging an 
 swer. Washington then passed his hand 
 across his throat, and said with a manner 
 half serious and half playful : " My neck 
 does not feel as though it was made for 
 a halter. We must retire to Augusta 
 county, in Virginia. Numbers will be 
 obliged to repair to us for safety ; and we 
 must try what we can do in carrying on 
 a predatory war ; and, if overpowered, we 
 must cross the Alleghany mountains." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 General Lee urged by Washington to join him in New Jersey. Lee s Answer. His Proposition to General Heath. Re 
 fusal of Heath to accede. Lee s Procrastination in obeying Washington s Orders. His Excuses. The Correspond 
 ence. The Motive of Lee s Conduct. His Vanity. His Partisans. Joseph Reed. His Life and Character. His 
 Intimacy with Washington. His Infidelity to his Friend. Proof of the Fact. Letter from Reed to Lee. Lee s Con 
 duct accounted for. Washington by an Accident discovers the Infidelity of Reed. Lee s Letter to Reed. A Rebuke. 
 Severely polite. " Dear Sir." Lee still recreant. Complains of Heath. The Latter justifies Himself. " Our 
 General s" Account of his Interview with Lee. Lee crosses the Hudson. Still disobedient of Orders. More tender 
 of Horse than of Man. 
 
 1776, 
 
 WASHINGTON, as we have said, had 
 repeatedly urged General Lee to ! 
 break up his encampment at Newcastle, 
 and come with his troops to his aid in 
 New Jersey. After Lord Cornwallis had 
 crossed the Hudson, Washington wrote to 
 Lee from Hackensack : " I am of opinion, 
 and the gentlemen about me con 
 cur in it, that the public interest 
 requires your coming over to this side of 
 the Hudson, with the continental troops, 
 leaving Fellows s and Wadsworth s bri 
 gades to take care of the stores during 
 
 Nov. 21, 
 
 their short stay, at the expiration of which 
 I suppose they will set out for home. 
 
 " My reasons for this measure, which I 
 think must have weight with you, are, 
 that the enemy is evidently changing the 
 seat of war to this side of the North riv 
 er. Unless some new event should occur, 
 therefore, or some more cogent reason 
 present itself to the contrary, I would 
 have you move over by the easiest and 
 best passage." 
 
 This was explicit as regards Washing 
 ton s opinion, but it is expressed rather 
 
396 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 Nov. 24, 
 
 as a suggestion than as an order a not 
 unusual thing at that time with the com- 
 mander-in-chief when addressing Lee, to 
 whose military experience he was disposed 
 to defer. 
 
 General Lee, in answer, wrote to Wash 
 ington, saying that he had received his 
 orders, and would " endeavor to 
 put them into execution;" but al 
 leged that he would not be able to take 
 with him any considerable number of 
 troops, " not so much from a want of zeal 
 in the men, as from their wretched con 
 dition with respect to shoes, stockings, 
 and blankets, which the presentbad weath 
 er renders more intolerable." In the mean 
 time he had sent orders to General Heath, 
 who was stationed at Peekskill, to trans 
 port two thousand men across the river. 
 Heath refused. " That great man," as Lee 
 sarcastically writes in his letter to Wash 
 ington, " (as I might have expected,) in 
 trenched himself within the letter of his 
 instruction, and refused to part with a 
 single file, though I undertook to replace 
 them with a part of my own." At the 
 conclusion of his letter, Lee declares : " I 
 should march this day with Glover s bri 
 gade, but have just received intelligence 
 that Eogers s corps, a part of the light- 
 horse, and another brigade, lie in so ex 
 posed 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 de- 
 lay." 
 
 Washington was surprised, on receiv 
 ing this letter, that Lee had not yet set 
 
 out, and wrote at once: " My for- 
 ]\ov, 27, J 
 
 mer letters were so full and ex- 
 
 Nov, 30, 
 
 plicit, as to the necessity of your march 
 ing as early as possible, that it is unne 
 cessary to add more on that head. I con 
 fess I expected you would have been 
 sooner in motion." 
 
 "You complain," writes Lee in reply 
 to Washington, " of my not being in mo 
 tion sooner. I do assure you 
 that I have done all in my pow 
 er, and shall explain my difficulties when 
 we both have leisure. I did not succeed 
 with Rogers, and merely owing to the 
 timidity or caution of the enemy, who 
 contracted themselves into a compact 
 body very suddenly. I am in hopes I 
 shall be able to render you more service 
 than if I had moved sooner. I think I 
 shall enter the province of Jersey with 
 four thousand firm and willing troops, 
 who will make a very important diver 
 sion ; had I started sooner, I should have 
 only had an inferior number of unwil- 
 ling." 
 
 Washington himself was so sincere in 
 his friendship and so loyal to duty, that 
 he did not suspect those about him to be 
 capable of infidelity to either. He was, 
 therefore, though puzzled by the conduct 
 of Lee, not disposed to attribute it to that 
 love of self-aggrandizement which facts, 
 then unknown to Washington, now prove 
 to have been the motive. Lee had been 
 spoiled by the welcome he had received 
 on his arrival at New York after his suc 
 cess at Charleston. He was regarded by 
 the army as a military oracle. Washing 
 ton himself always listened to his opin 
 ions with deference ; and the officers, par 
 ticularly the younger ones, while observ 
 ing this marked respect on the part of 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 JOSEPH REED. 
 
 397 
 
 their commander-in-chief, warmed natu 
 rally into admiration of the military qual 
 ities of Lee. They were disposed to ai> 
 tribute every successful manoeuvre since 
 his arrival in the camp to action suggest 
 ed by his advice. His well-known oppo 
 sition to General Greene s pertinacious 
 resolve to hold Fort Washington, now 
 served to increase his reputation as a gen 
 eral. From the apparently desperate con 
 dition in which the disastrous loss of that 
 fort had left the American army, there 
 were doubtless many who believed that 
 in Lee s military capacity was the only 
 hope of extrication. 
 
 Among those who were the especial 
 admirers of Lee at this time, and believed 
 that he was the only military saviour of 
 the country in its sad trial, was General 
 Reed. JOSEPH REED was now thirty years 
 of age. Born in New Jersey, and edu 
 cated at Princeton college, he had com 
 menced the study of law, and for awhile 
 was entered at the Temple in London. 
 On his return to his native land, he early 
 sided with the patriots in their struggle 
 for liberty, and was chosen president of 
 the first popular convention in Philadel 
 phia. When Washington was in that city 
 and received his appointment as com 
 mander-in-chief, he formed an acquaint 
 ance with Reed, which soon warmed into 
 a sincere friendship, and ripened into the 
 most intimate confidence. Washington 
 appointed him his private secretary, and 
 took him with him to Cambridge, where 
 he remained until nearly the close of the 
 siege of Boston, when he was called home 
 to Philadelphia, to attend to some private 
 affairs. He was subsequently appointed 
 
 adjutant-general of the American army, 
 and was now serving in that capacity with 
 the forces in New Jersey. Washington 
 had a high regard for Reed s abilities, and 
 frequently took counsel with him in re 
 spect to the conduct of affairs. A still 
 stronger attachment than that which was 
 to be traced to their mutual relations as 
 honest co-workers in behalf of the public 
 cause, sprang up between them. They 
 became friends ; and Washington, as his 
 letters show, unburdened himself to Reed 
 with a freedom of revelation that can not 
 be found even in his communications to 
 his own family. 
 
 The adjutant-general may possibly nev 
 er have swerved in his affection for Wash 
 ington as his private friend ; but he un 
 doubtedly wavered in his opinion of him 
 as a public leader. The following letter, 
 which Reed wrote, proves that at that 
 time he thought Lee, and not Washing 
 ton, was the man for the occasion : 
 
 " HACKENSACK, November 21, 1776. 
 "DEAR GENERAL: The letter you will 
 receive with this contains my sentiments 
 with respect to your present station ; but 
 besides this, I have some additional rea 
 sons for most earnestly wishing to have 
 you where the principal scene of action 
 is laid. I do not mean to flatter nor 
 praise you at the expense of any other, 
 but I confess I do think that it is entire 
 ly owing to you that this army and the 
 liberties of America, so far as they are 
 dependent on it, are not totally cut off. 
 You have decision, a quality often want 
 ing in minds otherwise valuable ; and I 
 ascribe to this our escape from York isl 
 and, from Kingsbridge, and the Plains; 
 
398 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 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 con 
 fess I ardently wish to see you removed 
 from a place where I think there will be 
 little call for your judgment and experi 
 ence, 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 : the enemy constantly 
 inquire where you are, and seem to me 
 to be less confident when you are pres 
 ent. 
 
 " Colonel Cadwallader, through a spe 
 cial indulgence, on account of some civili 
 ties shown by his family to General Pres- 
 cott, has been liberated from New York 
 without any parole. He informs, that 
 the enemy have a southern expedition in 
 view; that they hold us very cheap in 
 consequence of the late affair at Mount 
 Washington, where both the plan of de 
 fence and execution were contemptible. 
 If the real defence of the lines was in 
 tended, the number was too few ; if the 
 fort only, the garrison was too numerous 
 by half. General Washington s own judg 
 ment, 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 sus 
 pense till the stroke was struck. gen 
 eral ! 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, alarming state ; 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, point out their defects to them, 
 and, if possible, prevail on them to bend 
 their whole attention to this great object, 
 even to the exclusion of every other. If 
 they will not or can not do this, I fear all 
 our exertions will be vain in this part of 
 the world. Foreign assistance is solicit 
 ing, but we can not expect they will fight 
 the whole battle. 
 
 " I intended to have said more, but the 
 express is waiting ; and I must conclude, 
 with my clear and explicit -opinion that 
 your presence is of the last importance. 
 
 " I am, with much affection and regard, 
 your very affectionate, humble servant, 
 "JOSEPH REED, Adjutant- General 
 
 " MAJOR-GENERAL LEE, 
 " At the White Plains." 
 
 Such a letter, from such a source the 
 most intimate friend of Washington 
 was surely calculated to increase the van 
 ity and stir the ambitious longings of a 
 man like Lee, among whose virtues no 
 one has ever ranked modesty and con 
 tentment. There were others like Reed, 
 not only officers, but men high in civil 
 authority, who were writing to Lee in 
 the same strain of praise of his own mili 
 tary capacity, and in depreciation of that 
 of the commander-in-chief. Lee yielded 
 to this influence, and doubtless thought 
 that the star of Washington was setting, 
 and that his was the bright luminary 
 which was on its rise and might shine in 
 
REVOLTJTIONARY.J 
 
 LEE S CORRESPONDENCE WITH REED. 
 
 399 
 
 its place. These aspirations will account 
 for Lee s conduct in not obeying Wash 
 ington s orders. He was only too willing, 
 by withholding his aid ; to allow the com- 
 mander-in-chief to be sacrificed, while he 
 himself, by acting independently, might 
 have a chance of striking a blow against 
 the enemy, which would establish his su 
 periority and secure him the chief com 
 mand. 
 
 Lee, therefore, while excusing himself 
 on various pretences for not joining his 
 chief in New Jersey, was purposely de 
 laying, and trying to increase his force 
 by obtaining a reinforcement from Gen 
 eral Heath, that he might have an oppor 
 tunity of attacking the enemy in the rear 
 or the flank, while in pursuit of Washing 
 ton s meager remnant of troops, and thus 
 gaining a triumph which would give such 
 an eclat to his military fame as could not 
 fail to make him as prominent as his vault 
 ing ambition aspired to be. 
 
 Washington hitherto had been appa 
 rently unsuspicious of Lee s true motives 
 in continuing to delay, although repeat 
 edly urged to hasten to form a junction 
 with him in New Jersey. The enemy 
 continued to advance and Washington to 
 retreat. The American force was infi 
 nitely inferior in numbers, and such as 
 could not "give or promise the least suc 
 cessful opposition." It was greatly re 
 duced by the departure of the Maryland 
 flying camp, and by sundry other causes. 
 Washington had now retreated 
 as far as Brunswick, from which 
 place he writes to Lee, " I must entreat 
 you to hasten your march as much as 
 possible, or your arrival may be too late 
 
 Dec. 1. 
 
 to answer any valuable service." When 
 Washington wrote this, which has a more 
 peremptory character than his previous 
 communications, he had accidentally dis 
 covered a correspondence which must 
 have greatly weakened his confidence in 
 Lee, as it certainly did in one in whom 
 his orginal faith was much stronger. 
 
 We have read Reed s letter to General 
 Lee. Washington never did, but he saw 
 Lee s answer, and in this way : Reed was 
 absent, and in the meantime a letter came 
 to his address in the camp, which Wash 
 ington opened and read. Here it is: 
 " CAMP, 24 November, 1776. 
 
 " MY DEAR REED : I received your most 
 obliging, flattering letter. I 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 pat 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 commands in so pressing 
 a manner as almost to amount to an or 
 der, to bring over the continental troops 
 under my command ; which recommenda 
 tion, or order, throws me into the great 
 est dilemma, from several considerations. 
 Part of the troops are so ill furnished with 
 shoes and stockings, blankets, &c., that 
 they must inevitably perish in this wretch 
 ed weather. Part of them are to be dis 
 missed on Saturday next, and this part is 
 the best accoutred for service. 
 
 " What shelter we are to find on the 
 other side of the river is a serious consid 
 eration ; but these considerations should 
 not sway me. My reason for not having 
 
400 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 marched already is, that we have just re 
 ceived intelligence that Rogers s corps, 
 the light-horse, part of the Highlanders, 
 and another brigade, lie in so exposed a 
 situation as to give the fairest opportuni 
 ty of being carried off I should have at 
 tempted 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. If we 
 succeed, we shall be well compensated 
 for the delay. We shall likewise be able 
 in our return to clear the country of all 
 the articles wanted by the enemy. In ev 
 ery view, therefore, the expedition must 
 answer. 
 
 " I have just received a most flattering 
 letter from the governor of New Orleans. 
 He gives me the title of General de los 
 Estados Unidos Americanos] which is a tol 
 erable step toward declaring himself our 
 ally in positive terms. The substance is, 
 that he is sensible of the vast advantages 
 which must result from the separation to 
 his master and nation ; that he can not 
 positively enter into a regular system of 
 commerce without consulting his master ; 
 but, in the meantime, he will render us 
 all the service in his power. I only wait 
 myself for this business I mention of Rog 
 ers 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. I am, &c., 
 
 K CHARLES LEE." 
 
 Washington could not feel flattered by 
 this epistle, and must have been greatly 
 grieved to find that his friend, whom he 
 had trusted above all, was carrying on a 
 correspondence, the whole purport of 
 
 which was his own depreciation and the 
 elevation of Lee. Washington, having 
 opened the letter unsuspiciously, imme 
 diately enclosed it to Reed, with the fol 
 lowing explanation : 
 
 "BRUNSWICK, 30 November, 1776. 
 
 " DEAR SIR : The enclosed was put in 
 to 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 had 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 incli 
 nation nor intention would have prompt 
 ed me to. 
 
 " I thank you for the trouble and fa 
 tigue you have undergone in your jour 
 ney to Burlington, and sincerely wish 
 that your labors may be crowned with 
 the desired success. With best respects 
 to Mrs. Reed, I am, dear sir, &c., 
 
 " GEORGE WASHINGTON." 
 
 The formal politeness of this letter 
 where the "Dear sir" stands in place of 
 the former "Dear Reed" shows that 
 the heart of Washington s friendship for 
 Reed was paralyzed by this secret and 
 unsuspected blow. From that moment 
 there was no longer the same cordiality 
 between the two, though there were the 
 most courteous relations, and finally, in 
 subsequent years, some return to former 
 intimacy. 
 
 While Washington believed that, in ac 
 cordance with his orders, Lee was on his 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 LEE S INTERVIEW WITH HEATH. 
 
 401 
 
 route to join him, he received from that 
 recreant general a letter dated " Peeks- 
 kill, 30th November," in which he says : 
 " The day after to-morrow we shall pass 
 the river, when I should be glad to re 
 ceive 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 can not have too great 
 latitude, unless they are very incompe 
 tent indeed." 
 
 Lee also complained of General Heath s 
 resolute adherence to his instructions. 
 This faithful officer had refused Lee s re 
 peated solicitations to send two thousand 
 men across the Hudson. Lest, however, 
 he might thus be depriving the command- 
 er-in-chief of aid that was necessary, he 
 wrote to him, asking him whether his con 
 duct was approved. Washington, in his 
 answer, justified Heath in his refusal, and 
 ordered him to persist in it. Thus forti 
 fied, Heath adhered with continued per 
 tinacity to his orders. Lee, notwithstand 
 ing, was still urgent, and went so far as 
 to assume the responsibility of ordering 
 out two of Heath s regiments. We shall, 
 however, let General Heath narrate this 
 occurrence in his own words, which he 
 uses freely, speaking of himself always in 
 the third person, as " our general." 
 
 "Just before dinner, General 
 Sullivan arrived at our general s 
 [Heath s] quarters ; and, in the afternoon, 
 General Lee arrived. He called at the 
 door; when our general, waiting upon 
 him, requested him to alight, he asked if 
 he could have a cup of tea, and was an 
 swered that he should have a good one. 
 51 
 
 Nov. 30, 
 
 Upon coming into the house, before he 
 sat down he wished to speak in private, 
 which being instantly granted, he told 
 our general that, in a military view or, 
 to use his own words exactly In point 
 oflaiv, you are right ; but, in point of pol 
 icy, I think you are wrong. I am going 
 into the Jerseys for the salvation of Amer 
 ica ; I wish to take with me a larger force 
 than I now have, and request you to or 
 der two thousand of your men to march 
 with rne. Our general answered that he 
 could not spare that number. He was 
 then asked to order one thousand; to 
 which he replied that the business might 
 as well be brought to a point at once 
 that not a single man should march from 
 the post by his order. 
 
 " General Lee replied that he would 
 then order them himself. He was an 
 swered that there was a wide difference 
 between the two ; that General Lee was 
 acknowledged by our general to be his 
 senior; but, as he had received positive 
 written instructions from him who was 
 superior to both, he would not himself 
 break those orders. If General Lee was 
 disposed to counteract them, its being- 
 done by him could not be imputed to any 
 other person ; and that he knew the com- 
 mander-in-chief did not intend any of the 
 troops should be removed from that post 
 having expressed it no^ only in his 
 instructions, but also in a letter just re 
 ceived from him. 
 
 " On the letter being shown to General 
 Lee, he observed, The commander-in- 
 chief is now at a distance, and does not 
 know what is necessary here as well as 
 I do asked if he might be favored with 
 
402 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 the return-book of the division. Major 
 Huntington, the deputy adjutant-general, 
 was directed to hand it. General Lee ran 
 his eye over it, and said, I will take Pres- 
 cott s and Wyllis s regiments ; and, turn 
 ing to Major Huntington, said, You will 
 order those two regiments to march ear 
 ly to-morrow morning to join me. Our 
 general, turning to the major, said, * Issue 
 such orders at your peril! and then, 
 turning to General Lee, addressed him : 
 Sir, if you come to this post, and mean 
 to issue orders here which will break those 
 positive ones which I have received, I 
 pray you to 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. General Lee replied : It is right. 
 Colonel Scammel, do you issue the order ; 
 which he did, and Huntington communi 
 cated it to the regiments, who were now 
 posted at the gorge of the mountains, 
 near Robinson s bridge, afterward called 
 the Continental village. 
 
 " Matters carried thus far, our general 
 turned to General Lee again : i Sir, I have 
 one more request to make, and that is, 
 that you will be pleased to give me a cer 
 tificate that you exercise command at this 
 post, and do order from it Prescott s and 
 Wyllis s regiments. Lee replied, I do 
 not know that I will comply with your 
 request. General Clinton, who was pres 
 ent, observed, General Lee, you can not 
 refuse a request so reasonable. Upon 
 which General Lee wrote as follows: 
 " PEEKSKILL, December 1, 1776. 
 
 " For the satisfaction of General Heath, 
 and at his request, I do certify that I am 
 
 commanding officer, at this present wri 
 ting, in this post ; and that I have, in that 
 capacity, ordered Prescott s and Wyllis s 
 regiments to march. 
 
 " (Signed), 
 
 " CHARLES LEE, Maj. Gen. 
 
 " General Lee, stepping out on the 
 piazza, observed to an officer, General 
 Heath is right. Early the next morn 
 ing, the regiments moved from their can 
 tonment toward Peekskill ; but, before 
 they had reached it, General Lee, now 
 ready to pass into the Jerseys, rode up 
 to our general s door, and, calling him, 
 observed : Upon further consideration, I 
 have concluded not to take the two regi 
 ments with me. You may order them to 
 return to their former post: This con 
 duct of General Lee s appeared not a lit 
 tle extraordinary, and one is almost at a 
 loss to account for it."* 
 
 Lee finally crossed the Hudson with 
 his troops, and, having taken two days 
 (the 2d and 3d of December) for the pas 
 sage, began a slow, lingering march. The 
 commander-in-chief still continued to re 
 treat before the enemy, and, having ar 
 rived at Trenton, writes again to 
 Lee, saying, "The sooner you 
 can join me with your division, the sooner 
 the service will be benefited." In regard 
 to Lee s complaints of Heath s tenacity 
 of his instructions, and of his refusal to 
 allow any of his troops to cross the river, 
 Washington says, very peremptorily, "As 
 to bringing any of the troops under Gen 
 eral Heath, I can not consent to it." 
 
 Lee, in his next letter to his superior, 
 fairly discloses his purpose of acting in- 
 
 * Heath s Memoirs, pp. 94-96. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 LEE S ARROGANT ASSUMPTIONS. 
 
 403 
 
 dependency, although he strives to con 
 ceal it beneath the shallow pretence that, 
 since Washington had quitted Brunswick, 
 it was impossible for him to know where 
 to join him ! " But although," continues 
 Lee, U I should not be able to join you at all, 
 the service which I can render you will, 
 I hope, be full as efficacious." The north 
 ern army, it will be recollected, had been 
 ordered by Washington to join him. Lee, 
 it appears from his letter, had resolved 
 that the junction should be with his own 
 troops, and not with those of the com- 
 mander-in-chief. "The northern army has 
 already advanced nearer to Morri^town 
 than I am, and," grandly adds the ambi 
 tious Lee, "I shall put myself at their 
 head to-morrow." He not only thus ac 
 knowledges that he is about to assume a 
 command to which he is not entitled, but 
 even alludes to the tactics which he pro 
 poses to pursue. " We shall," he says, 
 " upon the whole, compose an army of 
 five thousand good troops, in spirits. I 
 should imagine, dear general, that it may 
 
 be of service to communicate this to the 
 troops immediately under your command. 
 It may encourage them, and startle the 
 enemy. In fact, their confidence must 
 be risen to a prodigious height, if they 
 pursue you, ivith so formidable a bodf/ hang 
 ing on their flanlc and rear" 
 
 Here we leave General Lee, lagging 
 on his march from Haverstraw to Morris- 
 town, where he hoped to receive the re 
 inforcements from the North, and watch 
 his opportunity of marching and inflict 
 ing that triumphant blow upon the flank 
 or rear of the enemy. Lee s only anxi 
 ety about Washington s hazardous posi 
 tion seems to be lest it should endanger 
 the safety of his horse, for he writes, " I 
 entreat you [General Washington] to or 
 der some of your suite to take out of the 
 way of danger my favorite mare, which 
 is at that Wilson s, three miles beyond 
 Princeton." He truly remarks, however, 
 previously, that " it is paltry to think of 
 our personal affairs, when the whole is at 
 stake." 
 
404 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 PART II 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Washington quits Newark. Cornwallis enters. Washington at Brunswick. He strives to obtain Reinforcements. Brit 
 ish Interests in the Ascendant in New Jersey. The Persuasiveness of the Howes Proclamation. Mercy promised. 
 "Lord, deliver us from his Mercy!" The Tory Disposition of the Magnates. Washington hopeless of making a 
 Stand in New Jersey. He continues his Retreat. Alexander Hamilton keeps the Enemy in Check. Destruction of 
 the Bridge at Brunswick. The March to Princeton. Washington crosses the Delaware. Retreat of Lord Stirling 
 from Princeton. Putnam ordered to Philadelphia, to fortify. Lee still recreant. His Cool Impudence. Washington 
 entreats. Letter upon Letter. Lee intercepts the Forces from the North. Gates ordered to the Rescue. Capture of 
 Lee. Wilkinson s Account of it. The Secret of the Capture disclosed. 
 
 1776, 
 
 WASHINGTON was not enabled to 
 linger on his march. After a week 
 at Newark, it became necessary to move 
 on again. " It was the wish of all," says 
 Washington, " to have remained there 
 longer, and to have halted before we came 
 thus far ; but, upon due consideration of 
 our strength, the circumstances attending 
 the enlistment of a great part of our lit 
 tle force, and the frequent advices that 
 the enemy were embarking or about to 
 embark another detachment from Staten 
 island, with a view of landing at Arnboy," 
 it was judged necessary to proceed. The 
 advance-guards of Cornwallis entered the 
 town as the American rear left. Bruns 
 wick was the next point which 
 Washington reached. Here the 
 flying camp continued to dissolve. Not 
 only did those whose services had ex 
 pired go away, but even those who were 
 engaged for a month longer departed al 
 so, so that the army was " reduced to a 
 mere handful." 
 
 Washington made an urgent appeal to 
 the governor of New Jersey to " fall up 
 on the proper means to draw forth the 
 strength" of his province to his support. 
 Livingston was earnestly patriotic, but 
 
 he could do little at that time toward 
 getting recruits for service in the good 
 cause. The British interests were in the 
 ascendant. A miserable remnant of troops 
 in retreat represented the one ; a trium 
 phant army supported the other. Un 
 der these circumstances, the proclamation 
 of the two Howes proved wondrously 
 persuasive. On the 30th of November 
 the two brothers, his lordship and Sir Wil 
 liam, industriously circulated throughout 
 the Jerseys a document, by which pardon 
 was offered to all such as had opposed 
 the king s authority; and who should, 
 within sixty days, subscribe a declaration 
 that they would remain in peaceable obe 
 dience to his majesty, neither taking up 
 arms themselves nor encouraging others 
 to take up arms against him. Washing 
 ton reports that a clergyman, " who was 
 a staunch friend to the cause," in allusion 
 to the latitude of pardon extended by 
 Lord Howe, said, "No one man in the 
 continent is to be denied his mercy," but 
 added, "The Lord deliver us from his 
 mercy !" Numbers, who had been pro 
 vincial congressmen, committee-men, jus 
 tices, and the like, though out of the wny 
 of immediate danger, ran to take advan- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] WASHINGTON CROSSES THE DELAWARE. 
 
 405 
 
 Dec. 2, 
 
 tage of the proclamation. Many of the 
 whigs shifted about. Only a few of for 
 tune stood firm to the cause. It was the 
 middle rank of people in general that re 
 mained steadfast in this day of trial. The 
 success of the royal army extended its in 
 fluence also to Pennsylvania. Mr. Gallo 
 way, the family of the Aliens, with some 
 others, repaired to the commissioners, to 
 claim the benefits of the general pardon.* 
 Washington had little hope of being 
 able to make a stand in New Jersey in re 
 sistance to his pursuers and their accumu 
 lating allies. He therefore began to for 
 ward a part of his stores to Philadelphia, 
 even while at Brunswick. The enemy 
 were close behind him, and, now showing 
 themselves on the opposite bank of the 
 Raritan, the American general 
 quitted Brunswick, taking care 
 to destroy the bridge which crossed the 
 river at that town, Captain Alexander 
 Hamilton keeping the British in check 
 with his artillery. Princeton was the next 
 point at which the retreating army halt 
 ed, where, in order that the country might 
 in some measure be covered, Washington 
 left two brigades (consisting of the five 
 Virginia regiments and that of Delaware, 
 containing in the whole about twelve hun 
 dred men fit for duty), under the com 
 mand of Lord Stirling and his old Virgin 
 ia comrade in the French War, Stephen, 
 who had been lately appointed a brigadier- 
 general. This detachment was set about 
 transporting the baggage and stores over 
 the Delaware, while Washington moved 
 on with the rest of his troops to Trenton. 
 He now proposed to reinforce Lord 
 
 * Gordon. 
 
 Dec. 8. 
 
 Stirling, whom he had left at Princeton, 
 with twelve hundred men ; but while pre 
 paring to march in that direction, he re 
 ceived an express from his lordship, wh 
 informed him that he was retreating to 
 Trenton. The earl gave as his reasons 
 for this movement, the advance of the 
 enemy by different routes by one of 
 which they were attempting to get in 
 his rear; and the indefensibility of Prince 
 ton, from the nature of the place, and the 
 small number of Americans to hold it. 
 
 The British were again close at hand ; 
 and one of the two divisions of Cornwal- 
 lis reached the Delaware at mid 
 night, just as the rear-guard of 
 Washington s army gained the opposite 
 bank. The American troops had dwin 
 dled away to the scant number of about 
 three thousand. All the boats along the 
 river were secured ; and Washington, al 
 though trying his utmost to check the 
 progress of the enemy, thought it impos 
 sible with his small force to give them 
 any considerable opposition in the pas 
 sage of the Delaware, should they at 
 tempt it. 
 
 Under these circumstances, the securi 
 ty of Philadelphia was Washington s next 
 object. He thought that a communica 
 tion of lines and redoubts might soon be 
 formed from the Delaware to the Schuyl- 
 kill, on the northern entrance of the city ; 
 the lines to begin on the Schuylkill side 
 about the heights of Springatebay, and 
 run eastward to the Delaware, upon the 
 highest and most advantageous grounds, 
 If something of the kind should not be 
 done, he believed that the British might 
 march directly in and take possession. 
 
406 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 n. 
 
 " We have ever found," says Washington, 
 " that lines, however slight, are very for 
 midable to them. They would at least 
 give a check till the people could recover 
 from the fright and consternation that 
 naturally attend the first appearance of 
 an enemy." 
 
 Washington acted promptly, in accord 
 ance with these views. General Mifflin 
 had just arrived and informed him that 
 all the military stores yet remained in 
 Philadelphia. He therefore thought there 
 was no time to be lost in fortifying that 
 city ; and he accordingly despatched Ma 
 jor-General Putnam to superintend the 
 works and give the necessary directions, 
 and ordered Mifflin back again to take 
 charge of the stores. 
 
 In the meantime. General Lee was so 
 absorbed in his own magnificent schemes, 
 that he did not seem to trouble himself 
 about the commander-in-chief and his re 
 peated summons. " I have no certain in 
 telligence of General Lee," writes Wash 
 ington on the 8th of December, "although 
 I have sent frequent expresses to him, 
 and lately Colonel Hampton, to bring me 
 some accurate accounts of his situation. 
 I last night despatched another gentle 
 man to him, Major Hoops, desiring he 
 would hasten his march to the Delaware, 
 in which I would provide boats, near a 
 place called Alexandria, for the transpor 
 tation of his troops. I can not account 
 for the slowness of his march." 
 
 Lee had only got as far as Morristown, 
 having taken three weeks to reach that 
 place, when Colonel Hampton arrived. 
 What that officer could have reported in 
 regard to the condition of Washington s 
 
 Dec. 8. 
 
 army, we can not say ; but if he confined 
 himself strictly to the truth, the follow 
 ing seems a marvel of cool impudence on 
 the part of Lee, when he writes to the 
 commander-in-chief: "If I was 
 not taught to think that your ar 
 my was considerably reinforced, I should 
 immediately join you ; but, as I am as 
 sured you are very strong, I should im 
 agine we can make a better impression 
 by hanging on their rear, for which pur 
 pose a good post at Chatham seems the 
 best calculated. It is at a happy distance 
 from Newark,Elizabethtown,Wood bridge, 
 and Bound brook ; it will annoy, distract, 
 and consequently weaken them." 
 
 Lee seems to have met with more suc 
 cess in recruiting than Washington, and 
 estimates that, with the militia, added to 
 the twenty-seven hundred troops which 
 he brought with him across the Hudson, 
 his army amounts to about four thousand 
 men. Washington suggested the idea of 
 surprising Brunswick. Lee, however, in 
 those days of self-exaltation, was little 
 disposed either to listen to the sugges 
 tions or obey the orders of his superior. 
 " The post I propose taking," he replies, 
 " offers the greatest probability of success; 
 but we are so ill shod, and destitute of 
 light-horse, that this desultory war is hard 
 upon the poor soldiers. But I must do 
 them the justice to say, that they have 
 noble spirits, and will, I have no doubt, 
 render great service to their country." 
 The recreant Lee concludes this impu 
 dent self-assertion of authority with a 
 " God bless you, general !" 
 
 Washington received this communica 
 tion by Colonel Hampton on his return, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 LEE S CONTINUED RECREANCY. 
 
 407 
 
 Dec, 10. 
 
 and immediately despatched an 
 other summons. Taking care to 
 inform Lee that his situation was directly 
 the opposite of what he (Lee) supposed 
 it to be, and that General Howe was pres 
 sing forward with the whole of his army 
 to possess himself of Philadelphia, Wash 
 ington continues : " I can not but request 
 and entreat you, and this too by the ad 
 vice of all the general officers with me, 
 to march and join me with your whole 
 force with all possible expedition. The 
 utmost exertions that can be made, will 
 not be more than sufficient to save Phila 
 delphia. Without the aid of your force 
 I think there is but little, if any, prospect 
 
 of doing it Do come on ; your arrival 
 
 may be fortunate, and, if it can be effect 
 ed 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." 
 
 Previous to the receipt of this commu 
 nication, Major Hoops had arrived atLee s 
 quarters with a letter from the command- 
 er-in-chief, in which the smallness of his 
 force was stated. Lee, in answer, as if 
 suddenly startled by the fact, describes 
 himself " shocked to hear" that 
 Washington s force was so inad 
 equate to the necessity of his situation, 
 as he had been " taught to think" that he 
 had been considerably reinforced. Lee 
 can not persuade himself that Philadel 
 phia is the object of the enemy ; and, hav 
 ing posted himself at Chatham, he seemed 
 determined not to budge, let Washington 
 beg, entreat, and order, as he might. " I 
 have put myself in position," writes Lee 
 to the chief, " the most convenient to co- 
 
 Dec, 8, 
 
 operate with you, by attacking their rear." 
 And, again: "It will be difficult, I am 
 afraid, to join you ; but can not I do you 
 more service by attacking their rear ?" 
 
 Three days subsequently, Lee writes 
 again to Washington, and would 
 seem to be in a more compliant 
 humor, for he talks of crossing the Dela 
 ware ; but, as he also alludes to taking a 
 route by the road toward Burlington, he 
 evidently clings to his old idea of a sepa 
 rate attack upon the enemy, with a view 
 of cutting their cordon, contrary to Wash 
 ington s views and commands. General 
 Howe, it must be understood, held the 
 banks of the Delaware at that point, and 
 as far north as Pennington ; and Lee was 
 directed to take a northerly route through 
 Pittstown to Tinicum ferry, at Alexan 
 dria, by which he might avoid the British; 
 and join Washington s enfeebled force at 
 Trenton. 
 
 Orders, it will be recollected, had been 
 sent by Washington to General Schuyler 
 to despatch the northern troops as rapid 
 ly as possible to the aid of the army in 
 New Jersey. These orders were commu 
 nicated to General Gates, then at Albany, 
 who despatched a detachment of three 
 regiments, under General St. Clair, to de 
 scend the North river to New Windsor, 
 and then march to reinforce the army in 
 New Jersey. Lee, however, intercepted 
 all that remained of these troops, with an 
 order to join him ! Gates himself, accom 
 panied by General Arnold, led the rem 
 nant of the northern army, consisting of 
 four regiments, and, having sailed down 
 the North river, landed at Esopus, whence 
 he proposed to join Washington in New 
 
408 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 Dec. 14. 
 
 Jersey. The latter, aware of his approach, 
 sent a despatch, with the hope 
 of its meeting him on his route. 
 In this, Gates was entreated not to delay 
 a moment in hastening to Pittstown. " I 
 expect General Lee will be there," says 
 Washington, "this evening or to-morrow." 
 At the moment this was written, Lee was, 
 however, unknown to Washington, in the 
 hands of the enemy. The lofty flights of 
 that ambitious general had been suddenly 
 checked, on the morning of the 13th, by 
 his capture, the particulars of which we 
 now give in the words of one who was 
 present. 
 
 Wilkinson (then a major), whose story 
 we relate, presented himself to General 
 Gates on the 5th of December, having 
 been temporarily absent from his com 
 mand in consequence of ill health. Gates, 
 says he, " had at that time heard of Gen 
 eral Washington s crossing the North riv 
 er, and the loss of Fort Washington, but 
 had received no satisfactory information 
 of posterior incidents and movements, 
 though a thousand vague reports were in 
 circulation. Thus circumstanced, his in 
 structions led him to take the back route 
 from Esopus, by the Delaware and the 
 Minisink, and we reached Van Kempt s, 
 near the Wallpeck, in very intemperate 
 weather. In this sequestered valley we 
 were thrown out of the ordinary current 
 of intelligence, and cut off from all au 
 thentic information respecting the ad 
 verse armies. The winter had set in with 
 severity; our troops were bare of cloth 
 ing ; numbers barefoot, and without tents, 
 provisions, or transport of any kind. The 
 men and officers sought shelter wherever 
 
 they could find it in that thinly-settled 
 tract. We were halted on the llth [of 
 December] by a heavy fall of snow, which 
 increased the general s anxiety for infor 
 mation from General Washington, and, to 
 relieve his solicitude, I volunteered my 
 services to find him. The proposition 
 was adopted, and a letter (to Washington) 
 prepared, with which I was despatched 
 on the morning of the 12th of Decem 
 ber. 
 
 "I crossed the hills to Sussex court 
 house, where I received advice that Gen 
 eral Washington had passed the Dela 
 ware several days before, and that the 
 enemy had reached Trenton. In conse 
 quence of this information, I employed a 
 guide, and proceeded down the country. 
 On the road I casually met an officer of 
 my acquaintance, who informed me that 
 the boats had been removed from the fer 
 ries, and that I should find some difficulty 
 in getting across the Delaware, and that 
 Major-General Lee was at Morristown. 
 
 " Finding such obstacles in my way to 
 the commander-in-chief, I determined to 
 seek his second, and to ask orders from 
 him for General Gates; and, although 
 dark, I continued my journey without 
 halt. About midnight, passing a house 
 by the wayside, I discovered a glimmer 
 ing light, and, on application to my guide, 
 was informed it issued from a tavern. I 
 dismounted, and, after a short parley at 
 the door, gained admittance, and found 
 the women on the watch over the embers 
 of an expiring fire ; for I perceived the 
 whole country to be in terror and alarm. 
 These women knew nothing of General 
 Lee; but, after some whispering, informed 
 
 i 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 MAJOR WILKINSON S NARRATIVE. 
 
 me two strange officers were in bed above 
 me, on which I desired one of the party 
 to awaken and inform them an express 
 desired to speak with them. The maid 
 proceeded with a candle to execute my 
 orders, and soon after I heard a loud 
 shriek. 
 
 " I instantly mounted the stairs, and, 
 guided by the light, entered the cham 
 ber, when a momentary scene of some 
 interest took place. Two gentlemen were 
 sitting up in the same bed, and the maid 
 standing at a distance from them, in an 
 apparent agony, with the candle in her 
 hand. The shriek had been caused by 
 the conduct of one of the gentlemen, 
 whom the girl had awoke ; but his wan 
 ton levity was in a moment changed into 
 painful apprehensions. Awaking out of 
 a sound sleep in the dead of night, the 
 unexpected and menacing appearance of 
 an officer, with a Canadian capot, a scarlet 
 under-coat, and a gold-laced hat, with a 
 pistol in each hand, was sufficient to dis 
 sipate all sense of an amorous nature, and 
 to excite those frigid sensations which 
 can not be realized so sensibly as when 
 an unarmed man believes himself in the 
 power of an enemy. For a moment the 
 gentlemen were struck dumb with alarm ; 
 literally naked and defenceless, and be 
 lieving me to be a British officer, their 
 situation appeared hopeless, and it was 
 several seconds before they demanded, 
 Who are you? " 
 
 The major soon relieved their fright, 
 and, after making himself known, and re 
 ceiving their names and quality in return, 
 a greeting ensued, which was, however, 
 so emphatic in expression proving in- 
 52 
 
 dubitably that " our army swore terribly" 
 in the Jerseys that we prefer to omit 
 the verbal relation of Wilkinson. The 
 gentlemen thus suddenly aroused wer 
 Colonel Gibson and a Mr. Nourse. They 
 " had parted from General Lee the even 
 ing before, and were absent on furlough ; 
 and Mr. Nourse being General Lee s pri 
 vate secretary," continues Major Wilkin 
 son, " they could of course direct me with 
 precision where to find him. Taking 
 leave of them, I pursued my journey, and 
 about four o clock in the morning reached 
 his quarters at White s tavern, on Bask 
 ing ridge. 
 
 " I was presented to the general as he 
 lay in bed, and delivered into his hands 
 the letter of General Gates. He exam 
 ined the superscription, and observed it 
 was addressed to General Washington, 
 and declined opening it, until I apprized 
 him of the contents, and the motives of 
 my visit ; he then broke the seal and read 
 it, after which he desired me to take re 
 pose. I lay down on my blanket before 
 a comfortable fire, amidst the officers of 
 his suite ; for we were not in those days 
 encumbered with beds or baggage. 
 
 " I arose at the dawn, but could not see 
 the general, with whom I had been pre 
 viously acquainted, before eight o clock. 
 After some inquiries respecting the con 
 duct of the campaign on the northern 
 frontier, he gave me a brief account of 
 the operations of the grand army, which 
 he condemned in strong terms. He ob 
 served that our siege of Boston had led 
 us into great errors ; that the attempt to 
 defend islands against a superior land and 
 naval force was madness; that Sir Wil- 
 
410 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT II. 
 
 liam Howe could have given us check 
 mate at his discretion ; and that we owed 
 our salvation to his indolence, or disincli 
 nation to terminate the war. When I 
 reached the army on York island/ said 
 Lee, all hands were busily employed in 
 collecting materials and erecting bar 
 racks ; and I found little Mifflin exulting 
 in the prospect of fine winter-quarters at 
 Kingsbridge. I replied to him : " Winter- 
 quarters here, sir ! and the British army 
 still in the field ! Go, set fire to those 
 you have built, and get away by the 
 light, or Sir William Howe will find quar 
 ters for you !" 
 
 " General Lee wasted the morning in 
 altercation with certain militia-corps who 
 were of his command, particularly the 
 Connecticut light-horse, several of whom 
 appeared in large, full-bottomed perukes, 
 and were treated very irreverently. One 
 wanted forage, another his horse shod, 
 another his pay, a fourth provisions ; to 
 which the general replied : Your wants 
 are numerous ; but you have not men 
 tioned the last: you want to go home, 
 and shall be indulged, for, d n you, you 
 do no good here ! The call of the adju 
 tant-general for orders also occupied some 
 of his time, and we did not sit down to 
 breakfast before ten o clock. 
 
 " General Lee was engaged in answer 
 ing General Gates s letter, and I had risen 
 from the table, and was looking out an 
 end-window, down a lane about one hun 
 dred yards in length, which led to the 
 house from the main road, when I discov 
 ered a party of British dragoons turn a 
 corner of the avenue at full charge. Star 
 tled at this unexpected spectacle, I ex 
 
 claimed, Here, sir, are the British caval 
 ry ! Where? replied the general, who 
 had signed his letter in the instant. 
 Around the house ! for they had opened 
 files, and encompassed the building. Gen 
 eral Lee appeared alarmed, yet collected, 
 and his second observation marked his 
 self-possession: Where is the guard? 
 d n the guard! why don t they fire? 
 And, after a momentary pause, he turned 
 to me and said, Do, sir, see what has be 
 come of the guard. 
 
 " The women of the house at this mo 
 ment entered the room, and proposed to 
 him to conceal himself in a bed, which he 
 rejected with evident disgust. I caught 
 up my pistols, which lay on the table, 
 thrust the letter he had been writing into 
 my pocket, and passed into a room at the 
 opposite end of the house, where I had 
 seen the guard in the morning. Here I 
 discovered their arms ; but the men were 
 absent. I stepped out of the door, and 
 perceived the dragoons chasing them in 
 different directions; and, receiving a very 
 uncivil salutation, I returned into the 
 house. 
 
 " Too inexperienced immediately to 
 penetrate the motives of this enterprise, 
 I considered the rencontre accidental ; and, 
 from the terrific tales spread over the 
 country, of the violence and barbarity of 
 the enemy, I believed it to be a wanton, 
 murdering party, and determined not to 
 die without company. I accordingly 
 sought a position where I could not be 
 approached by more than one person at 
 a time, and with a pistol in each hand I 
 awaited the expected- search, resolved to 
 shoot tlip first and the second person who 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 GENERAL LEE TAKEN PRISONER. 
 
 411 
 
 might appear, and then to appeal to my 
 sword. 
 
 " I did not remain long in this unpleas 
 ant situation, but was apprized of the ob 
 ject of the incursion by the very audible 
 declaration i If the general does not surren 
 der in five minutes, I will set fire to the house! 
 which, after a short pause, was repeated, 
 with a solemn oath ; and within two min 
 utes I heard it proclaimed, Here is the 
 general he has surrendered! A general 
 shout ensued ; the trumpet sounded the 
 assembly ; and the unfortunate Lee, 
 mounted on my horse, which stood ready 
 at the door, was hurried off in triumph, 
 bareheaded, in his slippers and blanket- 
 coat, his collar open, and his shirt very 
 much soiled from several days use." 
 
 It seems that a New- Jersey tory " a 
 domestic traitor," as Major Wilkinson calls 
 him who had passed Lee s quarters that 
 
 morning, fell in on the road with Colonel 
 Harcourt, at the head of a troop of British 
 dragoons, out reconnoitring, and gave in 
 formation of the general s whereabouts. 
 Harcourt, however, might not have been 
 in time, had not Lee lingered so long in 
 bed, and spun out the morning chatting 
 with his visiter, scolding at his militia- 
 officers, and writing his letter to General 
 Gates. If it had not been for this un 
 timely delay, he would probably not have 
 been caught at White s tavern, but have 
 reached his camp at Veal town. . The guard 
 were al careless as the general. The 
 morning being cold and the sun bright, 
 the men had stacked their guns, left their 
 station, crossed the main road, and were 
 sunning themselves on the south side of 
 a house about two hundred yards from 
 the tavern, when the British colonel rode 
 up and cut them off from their arms. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 General Lee s Motives explained. His Letter to General Gates. A Traitor? The Effect of the Capture. Exultation 
 of the Enemy. Major Wilkinson s Escape, and his Account of it. Gates affected by Lee s Capture. Gates on his 
 Route to join Washington in New Jersey. Washington perplexed, but not in Despair. The Congress at Philadelphia 
 alarmed by the Approach of the Enemy. Baltimore appointed as the Next Place of Meeting. Washington s Powers 
 extended. His Scrupulous Exercise of them. The Condition of the American Army. Effort to save Philadelphia. 
 The Banks of the Delaware guarded. The Enemy will not cross the River. The Provincial Force strengthened. 
 Washington resolves upon Offensive Operations. A Letter of Advice from Colonel Reed. A Day appointed for an 
 Attack. General Gates goes to Philadelphia. His Opinion of Washington as a Tactician. " On his Way to Con 
 gress ! on his Way to Congress !" 
 
 1776, 
 
 GENERAL LEE, at the time of his 
 capture, was evidently not disposed 
 to cross the Delaware, as he had repeat 
 edly and most urgently been ordered to 
 do by Washington. After lingering at 
 
 Morristown for several days, he left it on 
 the 12th of December; but, when taken, 
 his army had only marched twelve miles, 
 to Vealtown. Major Wilkinson, moreo 
 ver, tells us that " when Colonel Scammel, 
 
412 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 the adjutant-general, called on him from 
 General Sullivan, who was encamped with 
 the troops, for orders of march on the 
 morning of his capture, after musing a 
 minute or two, he asked the colonel if he 
 had with him the manuscript map of the 
 country, which was produced and spread 
 on a table. It attracted my attention, 
 and I observed General Lee trace with 
 his finger the route from Vealtown to 
 Pluckimen, thence to Somerset court 
 house, and on by Rocky hill to Prince 
 ton ; 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 Scam- 
 mel, Tell General Sullivan to move down 
 toward Pluckimen that I will be soon 
 with him. " 
 
 The order to Sullivan to march to 
 Pluckimen was not inconsistent with an 
 intention to obey the command of Wash 
 ington to cross the Delaware at Alexan 
 dria ; but if the tracing of his finger on 
 the map, so closely observed by the vigi 
 lant eye of Wilkinson, is to be taken as 
 an indication of Lee s intended march, he 
 clearly at the last moment was preparing 
 to strike a blow against the enemy, at the 
 risk of his fair fame. He was ready to 
 hazard all on the chance of success. A 
 victory, he thought, would raise such a 
 flood of popular applause as to drown all 
 inquiry. A defeat, he knew, could only 
 result in disgrace and punishment for dis 
 obedience of orders. Lee was not, how 
 ever, apparently very confident of win 
 ning in the hazardous game he was play 
 ing. His letter to Gates, which Wilkin 
 son hurriedly thrust into his pocket be 
 
 fore it was folded, is desponding, although 
 it confirms the suspicion that he was about 
 to act independently of Washington, and 
 in disobedience to his orders. Here it 
 is: 
 
 "BASKING RIDGE, December 13, 1776. 
 
 " MY DEAR GATES : The ingenious ma 
 noeuvre of Fort Washington has unhinged 
 the goodly fabric we had been building. 
 
 There never was so d d a stroke. En- 
 
 tre nous, a certain great man is most dam 
 nably 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. I have 
 neither guides, cavalry, medicines, mon 
 ey, shoes, or stockings. I must act with 
 the greatest circumspection. Tories are 
 in my front, rear, and on my flanks ; the 
 mass of the people is strangely contami 
 nated ; in short, unless something, which 
 I do not expect, turns up, we are lost: 
 our counsels have been weak to the last 
 degree. 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. It 
 is said that the whigs are determined to 
 set fire to Philadelphia : if they strike this 
 decisive stroke, the day will be our own ; 
 but unless it is done, all chance of liberty 
 in any part of the globe is for ever van 
 ished. Adieu, my dear friend ! God bless 
 
 you 
 
 " CHARLES LEE." 
 
 General Lee s capture was suspected 
 by many at the time to have been made 
 by collusion with the enemy. The letter 
 just read, however, proves that the senti 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] GENERAL GATES AND HIS JEWISH HOST. 
 
 413 
 
 ment at least of that eccentric command 
 er was at the last moment true to liber 
 ty ; and his rude treatment by his British 
 captors is unquestionable evidence that 
 Lee was not considered by them as their 
 friend. They exulted greatly, however, 
 in his capture, declaring, " We have taken 
 the American palladium !" Some of the 
 Americans thought no less, and seemed 
 to imagine that, with the loss of Lee, had 
 passed away all hopes of the salvation of 
 the country. Washington spoke calmly 
 of the event thus, in a letter to his broth 
 er Augustine : " Before you receive this 
 letter, 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." 
 
 Let us, however, return to Major Wil 
 kinson, and learn from his own account 
 how he escaped from the dilemma in 
 which he found himself on the capture 
 of Lee. "So soon," says Wilkinson, "as 
 Lieutenant- Colonel Harcourt retreated 
 with his prize, I repaired to the stable, 
 mounted the first horse I could find, and 
 rode full speed to General Sullivan, whom 
 I found under march toward Pluckimen. 
 I had not examined General Lee s letter, 
 but believing a knowledge of the con 
 tents might be useful to General Sullivan, 
 who succeeded him in command,! handed 
 it to him, who, after the perusal, returned 
 t with his thanks, and advised me to re 
 join General Gates without delay, which 
 I did the next morning at Sussex court 
 house, whither he had led the troops from 
 Van Kempt s." 
 
 Gates seems to have been greatly af 
 fected by the capture of his old comrade 
 and friend, and no doubt sympathized 
 fully with the views expressed in Lee s 
 letter. Immediately after Wilkinson s ar 
 rival, the troops were put in motion. 
 Brigadier-General Arnold led them di 
 rectly to Easton, in Pennsylvania. Gates 
 and his suite, with a light-guard of horse, 
 took a more circuitous route, and, having 
 reached the Delaware river some distance 
 above Easton, in the night, lodged at "one 
 Levy s." Gates had a predilection for his 
 host, for he said that the Jews were whigs. 
 Levy, however, in the course of the first 
 interview, let drop certain remarks " a 
 little mysterious," which made his guests 
 somewhat suspicious of their host s patri 
 otism. Gates accordingly desired those 
 who accompanied him to conceal his name 
 and rank, as well as those of Colonel John 
 Trumbull, then adjutant-general, and at 
 terward the patriotic panel-painter. The 
 general presented himself as " Captain 
 Smith, of Berkeley, Virginia." Levy s 
 sharp eyes seemed to recognise an old ac 
 quaintance in Trumbull, and he observed 
 that " he thought he had seen the colonel 
 in Connecticut." General Gates, however, 
 quickly answered, " No ! he is a neigh 
 bor s son in Berkeley." The scrutinizing 
 observation of Levy so alarmed his guests, 
 that it was thought more prudent to short 
 en their stay ; and accordingly the gen 
 eral, although the night was very inclem 
 ent, ordered the horses to be saddled, 
 " and," says Wilkinson, " we made a per 
 ilous passage of the river, through float 
 ing ice, and marched until midnight, be 
 fore we lay down, in a dirty store-room, 
 
414 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 | PART II. 
 
 Dec. 16. 
 
 which almost suffocated me." The next 
 morning they reached Nazareth in good 
 time, and then pushed on for Bethlehem, 
 where they overtook Arnold with the 
 troops from the North, and Lee s army, 
 with General Sullivan, who had changed 
 his route the moment he found himself 
 in command, and hurried forward to join 
 Washington. While Gates was at Beth 
 lehem, he received that letter from Wash 
 ington which, as we have seen, was wrii> 
 ten on the 14th of December, and con 
 tained an account of the " melancholy sit- 
 nation" of affairs in New Jersey. The 
 troops were now hurried on, and joined 
 the commander-in-chief in the 
 neighborhood of Coryell s ferry. 
 Washington s forces were considerably 
 increased by the addition of Sullivan s 
 and Gates s divisions, but his difficulties 
 were " not sensibly diminished." His ar 
 my was rapidly dissolving, and in ten days 
 there would be (in consequence of the 
 expiration of the time of service of many) 
 only fourteen hundred men left, and "mis 
 erably provided in all things." Washing 
 ton was deeply sensible of the dangers of 
 the country. " I saw him," says Wilkin 
 son, " 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." Perplexed as he was, however, 
 Washington did not despair. To his broth 
 er he writes, " Under a full persuasion of 
 the justice of our cause, I can not enter 
 tain an idea that it will finally sink, though 
 it may remain for some time under a 
 cloud." 
 
 Such was the imminency of the ap- 
 
 Dec. 12. 
 
 proach of the British to Philadelphia, that 
 it was thought advisable by Congress on 
 its adjournment to choose Balti 
 more as the next place of meet 
 ing. Before adjourning, however, it was 
 "resolved, that, until Congress shall oth 
 erwise order, General Washington be pos 
 sessed of full power to order and direct 
 all things relative to the department and 
 to the operations of war." This was a 
 wide extension of authority ; but Wash 
 ington, always so scrupulous in the exer 
 cise of his delegated powers, does not as 
 sume it without an explanation, which 
 seems almost like an apology to the state. 
 He orders three battalions of artillery to 
 be recruited. He promises officers and 
 men that their pay shall be increased 
 twenty-five per cent. This was obviously 
 not transcending the authority conferred 
 upon him by the resolution of Congress, 
 but Washington fears that what he has 
 done may appear " premature and unwar 
 rantable." In the same letter to 
 Congress, however, he can not 
 refrain ( urged as he is by the emergencies 
 of his position) from declaring the neces 
 sity of acting occasionally on his own re 
 sponsibility. If, in the short interval in 
 which great and arduous preparations 
 must be made against the enemy, " every 
 matter that in its nature is self-evident 
 is to be referred to Congress, at the dis 
 tance of a hundred and thirty or forty 
 miles, so much time must elapse," he says, 
 
 " as to defeat the end in view 
 
 " It may be said," continues the scrupu 
 lous and disinterested Washington, " that 
 this is an application for powers that are 
 too dangerous to be intrusted. I can 
 
 Dec. 20. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] WASHINGTON ADVOCATES A STANDING ARMY. 
 
 415 
 
 only add that desperate diseases require 
 desperate remedies ; and I with truth de 
 clare that I have no lust after power, but 
 I wish with as much fervency as any man 
 upon this wide-extended continent for an 
 opportunity of turning the sword into the 
 ploughshare. But my feelings, as an offi 
 cer and a man, have been such as to force 
 me to say that no person ever had a great 
 er choice of difficulties to contend with 
 than I have. It is needless to add that 
 short enlistments, and a mistaken depend 
 ence upon militia, have been the origin 
 of all our misfortunes, and the great ac 
 cumulation of our debt. We find, sir, that 
 the enemy are daily gathering strength 
 from the disaffected. This strength, like 
 a snowball by rolling, will increase, unless 
 some means can be devised to check 
 effectually the progress of the enemy s 
 arms. Militia may possibly do it for a 
 little while ; but in a little while also, and 
 the militia of those states, which have 
 been frequently called upon, will not turn 
 out at all ; or, if they do, it will be with 
 so much reluctance and sloth as to amount 
 to the same thing. Instance New Jersey ! 
 Witness Pennsylvania ! Could anything 
 but the river Delaware have saved Phila 
 delphia ?" 
 
 With no confidence in a militia, "who 
 come in you can not tell how, go you can 
 not tell when, and act you can not tell 
 where, consume your provisions, exhaust 
 your stores, and leave you at last at a 
 critical moment," Washington ventures to 
 advise the establishment of" a large stand 
 ing army sufficient of itself to oppose the 
 enemy." Not less than a hundred and 
 ten battalions, he declares, should at once 
 
 be raised, as the eighty-eight proposed by 
 Congress are by no means equal to the 
 opposition that must be made. "It is 
 not a time," says he, " to stand upon ex 
 pense." Emboldened by the necessities 
 of the occasion, Washington declares he 
 shall encourage those officers who offer to 
 raise men upon continental pay and es 
 tablishment, and "regiment them when 
 they have done it." His scrupulous sense 
 of his responsibility to the state, however, 
 here again shows itself in these remark 
 able words : " If Congress disapprove of 
 this proceeding, they will please to signi 
 fy it, as I mean it for the best. It may 
 be thought 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." 
 
 "What a wretched spectacle did our 
 troops present in retreating through the 
 Jerseys !" exclaims an American officer, 
 "without cavalry; but partially provided 
 with artillery ; deficient in transport foi 
 the little we had to carry ; without tents 
 tools, or camp-equipage ; without maga 
 zines of any kind ; half clothed ; badly 
 armed ; debilitated by disease, disheart 
 ened by misfortunes, and worn out with 
 fatigues." The very steps of the soldiers 
 during that toilsome retreat could be 
 traced upon the snow by stains of the 
 blood which had dropped from their na 
 ked feet ! 
 
 Crippled and exhausted as the army 
 was, Washington could not make a show 
 of offensive operations, and resorted to 
 the only means in his power of saving 
 
416 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 Philadelphia, which Congress had resolved 
 should be defended to the last extremity. 
 He did what he could to prevent the Brit 
 ish from crossing the Delaware. For thir 
 ty miles along the western bank of that 
 river (from Dunk s ferry, below Trenton, 
 to Cory ell s ferry above), at the ferries 
 and fords, he distributed his force into 
 patrolling-parties and stationary guards. 
 The craft on the Delaware were secured, 
 and the larger vessels formed into a chain 
 of guard-ships. With the advantage of 
 after-sight, which is the privilege of his 
 torians, we now discover that the enemy s 
 design was not to march upon Philadel 
 phia. General Lee s conjecture was cor 
 rect. Sir William Howe did not intend 
 to cross the Delaware during that win 
 ter s campaign. The British general, as 
 appears from his despatch, was satisfied 
 with establishing himself in New Jersey, 
 and thus securing shelter, forage, and pro 
 visions, for his army, till the spring should 
 open, and reinforcements arrive for car 
 rying out other and more extensive de 
 signs. 
 
 Washington s army, reinforced by the 
 division of Lee, the regiments from the 
 northern army under Gates, and the mi 
 litia from Pennsylvania, drawn out by the 
 spirited exertions of the ever-active Mif- 
 flin, now numbered nearly six thousand 
 
 effective men. With this addi- 
 Dect 22i 
 
 tion to his force, the commander- 
 
 in-chief resolved upon commencing offen 
 sive operations. How far he was actu 
 ated in this determination by a letter re 
 ceived from the adjutant-general, Colonel 
 Reed, it is difficult to decide. It detracts 
 nothing from the character of Washington 
 
 to concede that he acted from the sug 
 gestions of those in whose capacity and 
 character he trusted. One of the most 
 striking characteristics of the great man 
 was the readiness with which he adopted 
 any measure, come from what source it 
 might, which be believed to be conducive 
 to the welfare of the great cause in.which 
 he was engaged. No obstinate self-esteem 
 ever interrupted the course of his gener 
 ous love of country. 
 
 Reed was at the time with Colonel Cad- 
 wallader and a body of Pennsylvania mi 
 litia, stationed at Bristol, when 
 
 Dec* 22 
 
 he wrote this letter to Washing 
 ton : " If we could possess ourselves again 
 of New Jersey, or any considerable part, 
 the effect would be greater than if we 
 had not left it. Allow me to hope that 
 you will consult your own good judg 
 ment and spirit, and let not the goodness 
 of your heart subject you to the influence 
 of the opinions of men in every respect 
 your inferiors. Something must be at 
 tempted before the sixty days expire 
 which the commissioners have allowed ; 
 for, however many may affect to despise 
 it, it is evident a very serious attention 
 is paid to it : and I am confident that, un 
 less some more favorable appearance at 
 tends our arms and cause before that 
 time, a very great number of the militia- 
 officers here will follow the example of 
 Jersey, and take benefit from it. Our 
 cause is desperate and hopeless if we do 
 not strike some stroke. Our affairs are 
 hastening apace to ruin, if we do not re 
 trieve them by some happy event. De 
 lay with us is near equal to a total de 
 feat. We must not suffer ourselves to 
 
REVOLUTIONAKY.] 
 
 GATES "ON HIS WAY TO CONGRESS. 
 
 417 
 
 Dec. 23. 
 
 be lulled into security and inactivity, be 
 cause the enemy does not cross the river. 
 The love of my country, a wife and four 
 children in the enemy s hands, the respect 
 and attachment I have to you, the ruin 
 and poverty that must attend me and 
 thousands of others, will plead my excuse 
 for so much freedom." 
 
 Washington, influenced or not by this 
 outspoken letter, had so far carried out 
 his purpose of offensive operations as to 
 appoint the time for an attack ; for he 
 writes to Reed that " Christmas- 
 day, at night, one hour before 
 day, is the time fixed upon for our at 
 tempt at Trenton. For Heaven s sake, 
 keep this to yourself, as the discovery of 
 it may prove fatal to us our numbers, 
 sorry am I to say, being less than I had 
 any conception of; but necessity, dire ne 
 cessity, will, nay must, justify an attack. 
 I have ordered our men to be pro 
 vided with three days provisions, ready 
 cooked, with which and their blankets 
 they are to march ; for if we are success 
 ful, which Heaven grant, and the circum 
 stances favor, we may push on." 
 
 Washington at this moment naturally 
 expected the cordial co-operation of Gen 
 eral Gates, but that officer unfortunately 
 was " unwell, and had applied for leave 
 to go to Philadelphia." He was, however, 
 desired by his superior, "if his health 
 would permit him," to call and stay two 
 or three days at Bristol, on his way, to 
 give his aid in settling some probable dis 
 putes about rank; for "the colonels of 
 the continental regiments," says Wash 
 ington, " might kick up some dust about 
 command." But Gates was not then in 
 53 
 
 the humor to co-operate with the com- 
 mander-in-chief. He had probably aims 
 of his own, which he was more anxious 
 to direct, than to aid in furthering those 
 of Washington and of the country. Ma 
 jor Wilkinson rode with Gates to Phila 
 delphia. They set out together on the 
 24th of December. On the road the gen 
 eral appeared much depressed in mind, 
 and frequently expressed the opinion that 
 while General Washington was watching 
 the enemy above Trenton, they would 
 privately construct batteaux, cross the 
 Delaware in his rear, and take possession 
 of Philadelphia, before he was aware of 
 the movement ; and that, instead of vain 
 ly attempting to stop Sir William Howe 
 at the Delaware, General Washington 
 ought to retire to the south of the Sus- 
 quehanna river, and there form an army 
 Gates, moreover, declared that it was his 
 intention to proceed to Baltimore, and 
 there lay this plan before Congress. Wil 
 kinson was entreated to accompany him, 
 but refused. At night, Gates wrote a let 
 ter to Washington, with which he charged 
 Wilkinson, who then took leave of him, 
 and prepared to return to the army. 
 
 "I was on horseback early the next 
 morning (Christmas-day)," says Wilkin 
 son, " and reached Newtown about two 
 o clock. On my arrival there I discov 
 ered, to my surprise, that General Wash 
 ington had transferred his quarters to 
 that place, and had himself marched with 
 the troops in that neighborhood. From 
 Colonel Harrison, the general s secretary, 
 who had been left in charge of his papers, 
 I received the necessary directions, and 
 proceeded in quest of the troops, whose 
 
418 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 route was easily traced, as there was a 
 little snow on the ground, which was 
 tinged here and there with blood, from 
 the feet of the men who wore broken 
 shoes. 
 
 " I got up with my brigade near M Con- 
 key s ferry about dusk and, inquiring for 
 the commander-in-chief, was directed to 
 his quarters. T found him alone, with his 
 whip in his t *-ad, prepared to mount his 
 horse, which I perceived as I entered. 
 When I presented the letter of General 
 Gates to him, before receiving it, he ex 
 claimed, with solemnity 
 
 " What a time is this to hand me let 
 ters! 
 
 " I answered that I had been charged 
 with it by General Gates. 
 
 ( By General Gates ! Where is he ? 
 
 " 1 1 left him this morning in Philadel 
 phia. 
 
 " What was he doing there ? 
 
 " I understood him that he was on his 
 way to Congress. 
 
 "Washington then earnestly repeat 
 ed - 
 
 " On his way to Congress ! on his way 
 to Congress! " and broke the seal ; where 
 upon Wilkinson made his bow, took his 
 leave, and, joining his brigade, prepared 
 to bear his part in the eventful enterprise 
 of that stormy Christmas-night. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 The British Troops in New Jersey. Their Confidence in Themselves, and Contempt of their Enemy. Colonel Rahl at 
 Tronton. His Military Character. Daring and reckless. A Warning unheeded. A Christmas-Dinner. A Hand at 
 Cards. Another Warning disregarded. The Approach of Washington. Disposition of his Force. Crossing of the 
 Delaware. The Storm. Squibbing. The Advance and Charge. The Attack on the Hessians at Princeton. Per 
 sonal Exposure of Washington. The Assault led by Stark. The Enemy driven from the Town. The Brave Rahl. 
 He rallies and returns to the Charge. He falls. Flight of his Hessians. They are overtaken and surrounded. 
 Their Surrender. The Loss on Both Sides. The March of Cadwallader. Its Delays and Failure. Reinforcement 
 from Putnam at Philadelphia. Count Donop left in the Lurch. The Dyinf ^iahJ visited and consoled by Washing 
 ton. No Pursuit. Washington recrosses the Delaware. 
 
 THE British troops in New Jersey 
 w r ere stretched in a line of canton 
 ments across from Brunswick to the river 
 Delaware, and along its banks to Burling 
 ton. The main body was at Brunswick, 
 and the rest were so widely scattered as 
 to leave but small forces at the various 
 other posts. Confident in the possession 
 of the country, and despising the meager 
 and ill-conditioned army of Washington, 
 Lord Corn wall is believed himself so se 
 
 cure, that ne was no longer vigilant. He 
 himself, in fact, had requested leave of 
 absence, and had gone to New York, to 
 prepare to embark for England. His 
 sense of security was shared by the offi 
 cers and the army which he left behind, 
 and none doubted their immunity from 
 attack. 
 
 Trenton was held by Colonel Rahl with 
 three regiments of Hessians (those of An- 
 spach, Knyphausen, and Rahl), number 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] COLONEL RAHL AND HIS CHRISTMAS-DINNER. 
 
 419 
 
 ing fifteen hundred men, and a troop of 
 British light-horse. Rahl was a brave and 
 active executive officer, but careless of 
 danger even to recklessness. He was a 
 bustling disciplinarian, and was ever har 
 assing his men by his minute attention 
 to the formalities of dress and parade. 
 He was, however, no tactician, and could 
 neither foresee danger nor provide against 
 it. He had, moreover, a great contempt 
 for his enemy ; and when it was suggest 
 ed that an assault was possible, and that 
 he should fortify his position, he made a 
 jest of it, exclaiming, " Works ! pooh ! 
 pooh! An assault by the rebels? Let 
 them come : we ll at them with the bay 
 onet !"* He had given proofs of his dash 
 ing qualities as a spirited officer in the 
 attack on the lines at Fort Washington, 
 and was placed in command at Trenton 
 as a compliment to his bravery. Notwith 
 standing his general want of forecaste, he 
 is said to have been aroused to a tempo 
 rary apprehension for the security of his 
 frontier post, and to have applied for a 
 reinforcement from General Grant, who 
 replied : " Tell the colonel he is very safe. 
 I will undertake to keep the peace in New 
 Jersey with a corporal s guard." He was 
 soon lulled into his habitual confidence, 
 which remained undisturbed, although he 
 was warned that the Americans threat 
 ened an attack. 
 
 On the afternoon of Christmas-day the 
 whole garrison was suddenly aroused to 
 arms by a firing at one of the outposts. 
 Colonel Rahl hastened to the point, and 
 found that a picket-guard had been fired 
 upon, and six men wounded. The ene- 
 
 * Irving. 
 
 my, however, had retired. So the colonel, 
 thinking all was over, hurried back to his 
 dinner and his bottle, to which he was de 
 votedly attached. It was Christmas, and 
 of course a high festival with the German 
 soldiers. Rahl himself was a guest on the 
 occasion, at the house of one Abraham 
 Hunt,* who was a trader, and made no 
 nice distinctions between whigs and to- 
 ries, provided they were his customers. 
 The Christmas-dinner was eaten, the wine 
 circulated freely, and finally cards were 
 proposed. The convivial colonel was as 
 fond of play as of his bottle, and soon be 
 came deeply absorbed in both. Thus the 
 afternoon and night passed gayly. " Just 
 at dawn a messenger came in haste with 
 a note to Colonel Rahl, sent by a tory on 
 the Pennington road, who had discovered 
 the approach of the Americans." There 
 was a negro-servant at the door, and he 
 refused admittance to the messenger, tel 
 ling him that " the gemihen can t be dis 
 turbed." The bearer of the note, howev 
 er, aware of its pressing importance, in 
 sisted upon the negro carrying it in. He 
 did as he was bidden, and handed it to 
 Rahl. The hilarious colonel carelessly 
 thrust the note into his pocket without 
 reading it, and continued his game. The 
 men, like their master, were revelling, 
 and forgetting all sense of danger and 
 duty in drunken frolic. 
 
 Washington had chosen this night of 
 Christmas for his attack with the expec 
 tation that his Hessian enemy, thus yield 
 ing to the festivities of the day, would be 
 more exposed to a surprise. His plan 
 was, to cross the Delaware with three di- 
 
 * Lossin<r. 
 
420 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART u. 
 
 Dec, 25, 
 
 visions of his army. One, under Cadwal- 
 lader and Reed, was to pass the river at 
 Bristol ; another, under Evving, at the fer 
 ry a little below Trenton ; and the main 
 body, consisting of twenty-five hundred 
 men, Washington proposed to lead him 
 self (in conjunction with Sullivan, Stir 
 ling, Greene, and Colonel Knox of the 
 artillery) across M Conkey s ferry, nine 
 miles above Trenton. The British posts 
 at Mount Holly, Burlington, Black Horse, 
 and Bordentown, were the points of at 
 tack set down for the first two divisions. 
 Trenton itself was reserved for the com- 
 mander-in-chief 
 
 Boats having been got in readiness, 
 Washington ordered the troops to be pa 
 raded early in the evening "back 
 of M Conkey s ferry," and began 
 to embark them as soon as it grew dark. 
 He hoped to be able to throw them all 
 over, with the artillery, by midnight, and 
 thus arrive at Trenton by five o clock in 
 the morning, the distance from the point 
 of landing on the opposite side being 
 about nine miles. The darkness of the 
 night, however ; the frost, by which ice 
 was rapidly made ; the severity of the 
 cold, so great that two or three men froze 
 to death; and the force of the current, 
 rendered still more violent by a high 
 wind, impeded the passage of the boats 
 so much, that it was three o clock before 
 all the artillery could be got over, and 
 nearly four when the troops took up their 
 line of march. Washington, thus delayed, 
 despaired of surprising the town, as he 
 knew that he could not reach it before 
 the day had fairly broken. He deter- 
 
 */ */ 
 
 mined, nevertheless, to push on, as he 
 
 could not retire without being discovered, 
 and harassed while recrossing the river. 
 
 On landing, Washington formed his de 
 tachment in two divisions. One, under 
 the command of Sullivan, was ordered to 
 march by the lower or river road, and 
 enter Trenton to the south. The other, 
 Washington was to lead himself by a cir 
 cuitous route to the Pennington road, and 
 thus into the town at the north. In or 
 der that the two divisions might be ready 
 to attack simultaneously, the general-in- 
 chief, as he had a circuit to make, ordered 
 Sullivan to halt for a few minutes at a 
 cross-road, to give him time to come up. 
 The final order being issued, that the 
 troops, having first forced the outguards, 
 should push directly into the town, and 
 thus charge the enemy before they had 
 time to form, each division took up its 
 march. 
 
 When the division on the lower road 
 halted, in accordance with Washington s 
 order, it was discovered that the snow 
 storm which was beating violently in the 
 soldiers faces, had so wetted the best- 
 secured arms, that they were not in firing 
 condition. The fact was announced to 
 Sullivan. He cast a look at General St. 
 Clair, who was at his side, and observed, 
 " What is to be done ?" " You have noth 
 ing for it but to push on and charge," was 
 St. Glair s immediate answer. The march 
 was then continued, the troops being or 
 dered to clear their muskets in the best 
 manner they could as they moved along, 
 and a great deal of " squibbing" ensued. 
 In the meantime an officer was sent to 
 Washington, to inform him of the condi 
 tion of the arms. He returned for answer 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF TRENTON. 
 
 421 
 
 that the soldiers "must advance and 
 charge." 
 
 It was now broad day, and both divis 
 ions having reached the outskirts of the 
 town at the same moment, their fires 
 were heard by each other, as they began 
 their simultaneous attacks upon the ene 
 my s pickets. As his column approached 
 the town, Washington kept near the front, 
 and, coining up with a man chopping 
 wood by the roadside, he asked, "Which 
 way is the Hessian picket?" "I don t 
 know," replied the fellow, with an air and 
 tone as if he were concealing the truth. 
 Captain Forrest, who was in command of 
 the artillery, was on horseback at the side 
 of the commander-in-chief, and, observing 
 the reluctance of the man, said, "You 
 may speak, for that is General Washing 
 ton." The man was astonished at the 
 discovery, and raising his hands to heav 
 en, exclaimed, addressing the general : 
 "God bless and prosper you, sir! the 
 picket is in that house, and the sentry 
 stands near that tree." Captain Wash 
 ington was immediately ordered to dis 
 lodge it, which he did with great prompts 
 ness. The artillery was now unlimbered, 
 and the column proceeded. As Forrest 
 opened his battery, Washington kept on 
 the left, and, advancing with it, directed 
 the fire. He was thus so much exposed, 
 that the officers repeatedly entreated him 
 to fall back ; but he continued on, not 
 withstanding their solicitude for his safe- 
 
 fcy- 
 
 Colonel Stark commanded the advance- 
 guard of Sullivan s division, and made 
 quick work with the picket on his side. 
 Having forced this, he pressed on into 
 
 the town, dealing " death wherever he 
 found resistance, and breaking down all 
 opposition before him." The whole col 
 umn followed close at the heels of the 
 dauntless Stark. The enemy made a mo 
 mentary show of resistance by a wild and 
 aimless fire of musketry from the win 
 dows of the houses in which they were 
 quartered, but were soon compelled to 
 abandon their cover as the Americans ad 
 vanced. A troop of British dragoons, 
 with about five hundred infantry, took to 
 flight across the Assumpink, and joined 
 Count Donop at Bordentown. 
 
 Colonel Rahl seemed to have lost all 
 but his courage in the confusion of the 
 surprise. He was riding wildly about on 
 his horse, endeavoring to rally his men. 
 and crying, " Forward ! march ! advance ! 
 advance !" His troops, thus encouraged 
 by the presence of their comrnander,made 
 an attempt to form in the main street. 
 Captain Forrest, however, opened his bat 
 tery (with General Washington at his 
 side, directing the fire) at the head of 
 King street, and greatly confused the 
 forming battalions ; while Captain Wil 
 liam Washington, who, seconded by Lieu 
 tenant James Monroe (afterward presi 
 dent), led the advance-guard of General 
 Washington s column, perceiving that the 
 Hessians were endeavoring to form a bat 
 tery in the street, rushed forward, drove 
 the artillerists from their guns, and took 
 two pieces just as they were about being 
 fired. Captain Washington and Lieuten 
 ant Monroe were both wounded in this 
 perilous act, the former in his wrist and 
 the latter in the fleshy part of his shoul 
 der. This gallant conduct of the advance- 
 
422 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 guard was of great service ; for, if the en 
 emy had been able to serve their artillery 
 in the narrow street, the Americans might 
 have been checked. 
 
 Colonel Rahl succeeded, by a great ef 
 fort, in withdrawing his troops from the 
 town into a field near by. Here he formed 
 his grenadiers, and, instead of retreating, 
 as prudence would have suggested, he 
 recklessly led them on against the town, 
 now filled by the triumphant soldiers of 
 his enemy. He madly pushed on, right 
 in the teeth of the fire of the artillery 
 sweeping the streets, and the brisk mus 
 ketry of the American riflemen taking 
 deliberate and sure aim from the doors 
 and windows of the houses. At the first 
 onset, the gallant Rahl was shot from his 
 horse. His men, seeing their leader fall, 
 turned by their right along the river As- 
 sumpink, which runs through the town, 
 and endeavored to escape to Princeton. 
 General Washington, observing their pur 
 pose, instantly threw Colonel Hand with 
 his riflemen in their way, and ordered the 
 Virginia troops Tinder Colonels Scott and 
 Lawson to take them on their left. Thus 
 hemmed in on every side, the Hessians 
 halted and formed in order of battle. At 
 this moment General Washington ordered 
 the guns of Forrest s battery to be turned 
 on them, " with a discharge of canister." 
 " Sir, iliey have struck !" was Forrest s an 
 swer to the command. " Struck !" replied 
 the general. " Yes," said Forrest, " their 
 colors are doivn." " So they are," observed 
 Washington, and, putting spurs to his 
 horse, he galloped toward them, followed 
 by Forrest and his officers. The enemy 
 having ordered their arms, Washington 
 
 summoned them to surrender, when they 
 at once agreed to do so at discretion. 
 
 The wounded Rahl was now borne, by 
 a file of sergeants, to present his sword 
 to General Washington. At this moment, 
 Wilkinson rode up, having been sent for 
 orders. " On my approach," says he, " the 
 commander-in-chief took me by the hand 
 and observed, Major Wilkinson, this is a 
 glorious day for our country ! his counte 
 nance beaming with complacency ; while 
 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 im 
 plore those attentions which the victor 
 was well disposed to bestow on him." 
 
 The whole loss of the Americans was 
 trifling, amounting in all to lour men 
 wounded, two killed, and two frozen to 
 death. The enemy had their command 
 er, six officers, and four men, killed ; and 
 surrendered to Washington twenty-three 
 officers, nearly one thousand non-commis 
 sioned officers and privates, four stand 
 of colors, twelve -Irums, six brass field- 
 pieces, and a thousand stand of arms and 
 accoutrements. The triumph was great, 
 and it might have been much greater had 
 Washington s plan been carried out in all 
 its details. But General Cadwallader, who 
 was to have crossed the Delaware at Bris 
 tol, and Ewing at Trenton ferry, had both 
 failed him. General Putnam, too, who 
 had been urged to lend his aid in the af 
 fair, had been prevented from carrying 
 out fully the orders of Washington. 
 
 Ewing did everything in his power to 
 cross ; but the quantity of ice in the river 
 was so great, that he could not possibly 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ATTEMPTS TO CROSS THE DELAWARE. 
 
 423 
 
 o-et over. Cadwallader was also hindered 
 
 D 
 
 by the same difficulty in crossing above 
 Bristol. He then made an attempt at 
 Dunk s ferry, below. As soon as it was 
 dark, he sent down all the boats that he 
 could, muster, and marched down about 
 eight o clock. A few men were first em 
 barked, to line the river, and prevent any 
 persons from escaping to give intelligence 
 to the enemy ; next followed a part of 
 the first battalion of militia, and then two 
 fieldpieces, with which Cadwallader him 
 self crossed, in order to see if it was prac 
 ticable to land them. Upon reaching the 
 other side, and finding, in consequence 
 of the thickness of the ice, that it was 
 impossible to get the guns on shore, he 
 called together his field-officers, and con 
 sulted as to whether it would be proper 
 to march without the artillery. They all 
 agreed that it would not. In the mean 
 time, another battalion of troops had suc 
 ceeded in crossing. They were, however, 
 all taken back to the Pennsylvania side of 
 the Delaware, where, in consequence of 
 the ice and stormy weather, they did not 
 arrive until four o clock in the morning. 
 Cadwallader then marched to Bristol. "I 
 imagine," he said, in writing to Washing 
 ton, and giving an account of his own un 
 successful operations, " the badness of the 
 night must have prevented you from pas 
 sing over as you intended." 
 
 General Putnam had answered Wash 
 ington s solicitation for aid in the attack 
 upon Trenton, by a statement that such 
 was the insubordinate and defective con 
 dition of the militia, and the threatening 
 aspect of affairs (foreboding an insurrec 
 tion) in Philadelphia, that it was impos 
 
 sible for him to march in person, or be of 
 any material aid. At the last moment, 
 however, he sent off Colonel Griffin, with 
 a meager detaohment of Pennsylvania mi 
 litia. This officer reached the Jerseys in 
 time, but being indisposed himself, and 
 his troops ill conditioned, he declined to 
 join in the attack, and wrote to Cadwal 
 lader at Bristol, that he thought he could 
 be of more service by diverting Count 
 Donop at Bordentown,and thus draw him 
 off from giving his aid to Colonel Rahl at 
 Trenton. Griffin acted accordingly. He 
 marched toward Donop s camp sufficient 
 ly near to be observed, and to provoke 
 the enemy to come out. He then retired 
 leisurely, skirmishing here and there, fol 
 lowed by a large body of the Hessians, 
 until they reached Mount Holly, when 
 Griffin rapidly retreated, leaving Donop 
 in the lurch, who was left to find his way 
 back to Bordentown. 
 
 If all the details of Washington s plan 
 could have been successfully carried out. 
 not a man would have escaped from Tren 
 ton ; and, with the aid of Cadwallader, he 
 would have been able, as he hoped, to 
 drive the enemy from all their posts be 
 low that town. He was well satisfied, 
 however, with the conduct of those troops 
 who were with him and won the day. He 
 pays this tribute to them in his letter to 
 the president of Congress : " In justice to 
 the officers and men, I must add that their 
 behavior upon this occasion reflects the 
 highest honor upon them. The difficulty 
 of passing the river in a very severe night, 
 and their march through a violent storm 
 of snow and hail, did not in the least abate 
 their ardor; but when they came to the 
 
424 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 charge, each secme 1 to vie with the other 
 in pressing forward : and were I to give 
 a preference to any particular corps, I 
 should do great injustice to the others." 
 
 When the wounded Rahl had surren 
 dered his sword, he was borne to a tavern, 
 kept by a Quaker of the name of Stacey 
 Potts. Rahl s wound was mortal, and, as 
 he was dying, Washington, in company 
 with General Greene, visited and consoled 
 him with expressions of sympathy, and 
 well-deserved praise for his heroic daring. 
 The Hessian commander was soothed, but 
 declared that he preferred rather to die 
 than to outlive his honor. 
 
 General Greene and Colonel Knox(the 
 latter of whom had been made a briga 
 dier-general the next day by Congress, 
 without a knowledge of the triumph at 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Trenton) were solicitous that Washing 
 ton should push on and increase the alarm 
 of the enemy by striking a succession of 
 immediate blows. The general-in-chief 
 himself was apparently inclined to this 
 bold policy, but most of the officers were 
 against it ; and " his excellency did not 
 then think he could answer going con 
 trary to the judgment of the majority of 
 a council of war."* 
 
 Washington, therefore, with inferior 
 numbers to the enemy posted below, and 
 with "a strong battalion of light-infantry" 
 at Princeton above him, thought it most 
 prudent to return; and accord 
 ingly, on the evening of his tri 
 umph, he re crossed the Delaware with 
 the prisoners and artillery which he had 
 taken. 
 
 Dec. 26* 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 The Americans greatly encouraged by the Triumph at Trenton. Pennsylvania comes more readily to the Rescue. New- 
 Jersey Whigs more decided. The Tories more vacillating. The Insolence of the Hessians. Conduct of the British 
 Troops in New Jersey. "Protections." No Rights of Property. Rapine, Ravage, and Rape. New Jersey becomes 
 more favorable to the Patriots. Cadwallader crosses the Delaware, and marches to Burlington. No Resistance. 
 "Down with the Red Rags !" Panic of the Enemy. Cadwallader at Bordentown. Washington makes Great Prepa 
 rations to attack. Sir William Howe aroused. Lord Cornwallis sent to take the Command in New Jersey. Wash 
 ington without Money. Rol ert Morris called upon. His " Ways and Means." A Friend indeed. Washington 
 crosses the Delaware. Reed *jnt out to reconnoitre. His Capture of a Foraging-Party. Riding double. Washing 
 ton s Position on the Assumpink. The Arrival and Position of the Enemy. Washington made Military Dictator. 
 His Dignified Acceptance of the Trust. The Enemy postpone their Attack. The Americans in Danger. A Chance 
 of Escape. 
 
 1776, 
 
 THE triumph at Trenton was a 
 great encouragement to the Ameri 
 can cause. The troops were so much in 
 spirited by their success, that all were 
 more eager for the fight, and some whose 
 term of service was about expiring were 
 
 induced to re-enlist. Influences which be 
 fore proved unavailing were now brought 
 to bear with effect. When such as ap 
 peared determined to go off and return 
 to their homes were harangued, artfully 
 
 * Gordon. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY, j 
 
 BRITISH AND HESSIAN OUTRAGES. 
 
 425 
 
 reminded that they would be called cow 
 ards should they leave, and promised a 
 bounty of ten dollars each man, more 
 than half agreed to remain six weeks 
 longer. The militia more promptly an 
 swered to the call upon them. Pennsyl 
 vania was now roused, and General Mif- 
 ilin was enabled in the course of a few 
 days to send a reinforcement of upward 
 of a thousand men to Washington s army. 
 The vacillating whigs of New Jersey be 
 came more decided, and no longer feared 
 to declare and act for the American cause; 
 while even many of the tories clung less 
 tenaciously to British interests. The in 
 solence and violent outrages of the royal 
 troops, and especially of the Hessians, 
 had increased the virulence of their origi 
 nal foes, and even provoked some of their 
 former friends to hostility. 
 
 When the royal army entered the Jer 
 seys, most of the inhabitants remained in 
 their houses, and many thousands received 
 printed " protections," signed by Sir Wil 
 liam Howe. But these saved their hold 
 ers neither from insult nor robbery : their 
 property was taken or destroyed, without 
 distinction of persons. They might show 
 their "protections :" the Hessians could 
 not or would not understand them, and 
 the English took care to have their share 
 of the plunder. The officers, both Hes 
 sian and British, were no less ready to 
 violate the rights of property than their 
 soldiers. The carriages of gentlemen " of 
 the first rank" were seized, their arms de 
 faced, while the commissioned plunderers 
 blazoned their own on the panels, and 
 thus insolently paraded throughout town 
 and country. 
 
 54 
 
 "Discontents and murmurs increased 
 every hour at the licentious ravages of 
 the soldiery, both British and foreign, who 
 were shamefully permitted, with unre 
 lenting hand, to pillage friend and foe in 
 the Jerseys. Neither age nor sex was 
 spared. Indiscriminate ruin attended ev 
 ery person they met with. Infants, chil 
 dren, old men and women, were left in 
 their shirts, without a blanket to cover 
 them, under the inclemency of winter. 
 Every kind of furniture was destroyed 
 and burnt ; windows and doors were bro 
 ken to pieces : in short, the houses were 
 left uninhabitable, and the people with 
 out provisions for every horse, cow, ox, 
 and fowl, was carried off! 
 
 " Horrid depredations and abuses were 
 committed by that part of the army which 
 was stationed at or near Penny town. Six 
 teen young women fled to the woods, to 
 avoid the brutality of the soldiers, and 
 were there seized and carried off One 
 man had the cruel mortification* to have 
 his wife and only daughter (a child of ten 
 years of age) ravished. Another girl of 
 thirteen was taken from her father s 
 house, carried to a barn about a mile ofi^ 
 there dishonored and abused by five oth 
 ers. A most respectable gentleman, in 
 the neighborhood of Woodbridge, was 
 alarmed with the cries and shrieks of a 
 most lovely daughter : he found a British 
 officer in the act of violating her, and in 
 stantly put him to death. Two other offi 
 cers rushed in with their fusees, and fired 
 two balls into the father, who was left 
 languishing under his wounds."*]" 
 
 * Rather a mild term for so heinous a crime ! 
 t Gordon. 
 
420 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Dec, 27, 
 
 Exasperated by such enormities, the 
 people of New Jersey Avere ready, at the 
 least show of strength on the part of 
 Washington s army, to rally to his aid. 
 The commander-in-chief,thus assisted, not 
 only by reinforcements to his troops, but 
 by an accession of feeling in his favor, de 
 termined to cross over into New Jersey 
 again, and make another demonstration 
 against the enemy. 
 
 General Cadwallader, having heard of 
 Washington s successful attack upon the 
 Hessians at Trenton, crossed into Jersey 
 early the next morning, with fif 
 teen hundred of the Pennsylva 
 nia militia. He had no sooner landed 
 most of his troops, when he learned that 
 Washington had recrossed the Delaware 
 the night before, and was then on the 
 Pennsylvania side. As Cadwallader was 
 thus defeated in his intention of forming 
 a junction with the main body, he was 
 much embarrassed which way to proceed. 
 He himself thought it most prudent to 
 retreat. Colonel Reed, who was with him, 
 warmly advocated the bolder policy of 
 marching to Burlington, lest the fluctua 
 ting militia, whose spirit was now up, 
 should be discouraged by a second disap 
 pointment. It was soon discovered that 
 there was little fear of immediate oppo 
 sition from the enemy. Although Cad 
 wallader crossed the river in open day 
 light, there was no show of resistance to 
 his landing ; notwithstanding, with the 
 overpowering force of the enemy, they 
 could have readily overcome him. They 
 were, in fact, so panic-stricken by their 
 defeat at Trenton, that they fled precipi 
 tately, as we shall see, abandoning their 
 
 posts at Black Horse, Mount Holly, Bur 
 lington, and Bordentown, and were now 
 retreating toward South Amboy. 
 
 General Cadwallader, meeting with no 
 opposition, now did not hesitate to accede 
 to Colonel Reed s views, and determined 
 to push on, though cautiously. Reed, ac 
 companied by two other officers, rode on 
 in advance to reconnoitre. On approach 
 ing Burlington, the enemy s outposts were 
 found abandoned ; and, on entering the 
 place, there were all the signs of a late 
 and precipitate retreat. As Reed and his 
 companions in their continental uniforms 
 rode through the streets of the town, the 
 inhabitants pulled down the " red rags," 
 which had been nailed to their doors as 
 a demonstration of loyalty to the British 
 flag, and gladly welcomed the protection 
 of another color. So Reed pushed on, 
 from post to post, sending back intelli 
 gence from each point to Cadwallader, 
 who followed with the troops. The coun 
 try was found everywhere clear of the 
 enemy as far as Bordentown ; and here, 
 when all arrived, they halted. Cadwal 
 lader immediately wrote to Washington, 
 informing him of his arrival at that place 
 with eighteen hundred men, and that five 
 hundred more were advancing from be 
 low. Washington, in reply, ordered Cad 
 wallader to remain at Bordentown until 
 he himself should pass over the Delaware, 
 which he proposed to do on the 29th of 
 December, when the troops might be suf 
 ficiently refreshed for another movement. 
 
 The commander-in-chief was making 
 extensive preparations for his enterprise. 
 He wrote to Generals M Dougall and Max 
 well, who were at Morristown, to use their 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ROBERT MORRIS AND HIS QUAKER FRIEND. 
 
 427 
 
 utmost efforts in collecting a body of mi 
 litia, with which to harass the enemy on 
 Hank and rear, should they advance or 
 retreat. They were informed that the 
 continental regiments from the eastern 
 provinces had agreed to stay six weeks 
 beyond their term of enlistment, and that 
 lie had agreed to pay them for " this ex 
 traordinary mark of their attachment to 
 their country" a bounty of ten dollars 
 each man. " I hope," added Washington, 
 " this noble example will be followed by 
 the four regiments under your command. 
 Promise them the same reward, and en 
 deavor to work upon them by every 
 means in your power." He also wrote to 
 General Heath to cross the Hudson from 
 Peekskill with the New-England militia, 
 and advance southerly by way of Hack- 
 ensack, in order that he might be ready, 
 on receiving orders from his chief, to co 
 operate with him, as " I think," he wrote, 
 " a fair opportunity is offered of driving 
 the enemy entirely from Jersey, or at 
 least to the extremity of the province." 
 Every precaution in his power had been 
 taken for subsisting the troops, and all 
 other preparations made ; and "I shall/ 
 says Washington, " without loss of time, 
 and as soon as circumstances will admit 
 of it, pursue the enemy in their retreat, 
 try to beat up more of their quarters, 
 and, in a word, adopt in every instance 
 such measures as the exigency of our af 
 fairs requires and our situation will just- 
 
 ify-" 
 
 In the meantime, Sir William Howe 
 heard with alarm of the defeat of the 
 Hessians at Trenton, and of the panic of 
 the troops. Earl Cornwallis was imme 
 
 diately sent from New York (where he 
 was preparing to embark for England) to 
 resume the command in New Jersey. He 
 accordingly hastened to Princeton, where 
 he was followed by a large force from the 
 British encampment at Brunswick. 
 
 Washington, by his liberal promise of 
 a bounty of ten dollars to each man, had 
 succeeded in keeping his army together, 
 but was puzzled, with an empty military 
 chest, to find means for the fulfilment of 
 his word. The army treasury was so far 
 exhausted, that the commander-in-chief, 
 when requiring a small amount of money 
 for secret service, had been obliged to 
 write to ROBERT MORRIS, a wealthy banker 
 at Philadelphia, in these terms : " 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, 
 with his usual promptness, at once sent 
 the sum. His financial resources, howev 
 er, were now to be more severely tasked. 
 Washington wanted a large sum to meet 
 the payment of the promised bounty to 
 the troops. The " patriot financier" was 
 the only resource ; but he himself, when 
 written to, was, with all his facilities, mo 
 mentarily puzzled to meet the demand. 
 
 Morris pondered over the ordinary 
 ways and means of raising the money, 
 but, discovering that none were availa 
 ble, sallied out from his counting-house 
 almost in despair. He had not gone far 
 when he met a Quaker fellow-citizen, who 
 was known to be wealthy. Morris stopped 
 him, and acquainted him with his wants. 
 "Robert, what security wilt thou give?" 
 asked the Quaker. "My note, and my 
 honor," answered Morris. " Thou shalt 
 
428 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Dec. 30. 
 
 have it," was the prompt rejoinder.* The 
 next day, by the timely aid of his Quaker 
 friend, Morris was enabled to write to 
 Washington : " I am up very early this 
 morning, to despatch a supply of fifty 
 thousand dollars to your excellency. You 
 will receive that sum with this letter; 
 but it will not be got away so early as I 
 could wish, for none concerned in this 
 movement except myself are up. I shall 
 rouse them immediately. It gives me 
 great pleasure that you have engaged the 
 troops to continue ; and if further occa 
 sional supplies of money are necessary, 
 you may depend on my exertions either 
 in a public or private capacity." 
 
 Washington, being now fully 
 prepared, crossed the Delaware 
 with the van of his troops. The river, 
 however, was so full of drifting ice, and 
 the passage so difficult, that it was im 
 possible to get the entire army over un 
 til late on the following day. During 
 this movement, Washington sent Colonel 
 Reed out, at the head of twelve dragoons, 
 to reconnoitre and try to discover if the 
 enemy were approaching, about whose 
 operations nothing certain was known. 
 Reed, being well acquainted with the 
 country, had no difficulty in scouring it 
 pretty effectually. In the course of his 
 ride, he discovered that a British commis 
 sary, with a foraging-party, was in a house 
 on the road. Reed accordingly rode up 
 w r ith his dozen men and immediately sur 
 rounded the place. The party within, 
 which amounted in numbers to the same 
 as that of the Americans, was so taken 
 by surprise, and panic-stricken, that it 
 
 * Lossing. 
 
 surrendered without a blow. Reed and 
 his men galloped back to the American 
 camp ; and, as each trooper rode in with 
 a prisoner mounted behind him, he was 
 received with a loud shout of applause. 
 
 Washington could obtain no certain in 
 telligence of the number and situation of 
 the enemy ; but, from the most reliable 
 accounts, it appeared that they had col 
 lected the principal part of their force 
 from Brunswick and the adjacent posts at 
 Princeton, where they were throwing up 
 some works. Their number was reported 
 to be from five to six thousand. Gener 
 al Howe was also said to have landed at 
 Amboy with a thousand light-troops., with 
 which he was on his march. 
 
 As soon as he had crossed the Dela 
 ware, Washington took up his position on 
 the high ground to the east of Trenton, 
 along the bank of the Assumpink creek, 
 and was thus separated from the town by 
 this small stream. His delay in passing 
 his troops over the Delaware had given 
 the enemy an opportunity of drawing in 
 their several cantonments and assembling 
 their whole force at Princeton. They 
 evidently meditating an attack, and had 
 pushed forward strong advanced pickets 
 toward Trenton. 
 
 Washington, with his small force, now 
 felt himself to be in a most critical situ 
 ation, lie was embarrassed, as was fre 
 quently the case, by a want of reliance 
 upon his militia. He could not act mere 
 ly as the military tactician, and move his 
 men as a general could a well-disciplined 
 army. The American commander was 
 forced to become the politician, and con 
 sult the caprices of his fluctuating and 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] WASHINGTON GIVEN DICTATORIAL POWERS. 
 
 429 
 
 1777, 
 
 irregular troops. He might, as a strate 
 gist, have wished to retire ; but " to re 
 move immediately was again destroying 
 every dawn of hope which had begun to 
 revive in the breasts of the Jersey mili 
 tia." He therefore determined to hold 
 his present position, dangerous as it was, 
 and strengthen himself by ordering the 
 troops lying at Crosswicks, under Gener 
 al Cadwallader, and those under General 
 Mifflin, to join him at Trenton, although 
 it was " to bring them to an exposed 
 place." They accordingly came, and, af 
 ter a hard night s march, reached 
 the camp on the first day of the 
 new year. 
 
 Washington had now about five thou 
 sand men, encamped in a line of two 
 miles in length, along the Assumpink 
 creek. The bridge and the fords which 
 crossed that stream were strongly guard 
 ed with artillery, and General Greene was 
 sent out with a detachment to harass the 
 advance of the enemy. Greene, by pro 
 voking him to frequent skirmishes, suc 
 ceeded in delaying the approach of Lord 
 Cornwallis. While Greene was spiritedly 
 holding the British in check on the road 
 from Princeton, within a short distance of 
 Trenton, Washington rode up, and, join 
 ing the advanced detachment, thanked 
 the troops, and particularly the artillery, 
 for the services of the day. Then, hav 
 ing given orders for them to make as ob 
 stinate a stand as they could where they 
 were without risking the safety of their 
 cannon, he rode back to marshal his troops 
 on the other side of the Assumpink. The 
 commander-in-chief "stood fairly commit 
 ted to a general action if the enemy had 
 
 Jan, 2. 
 
 provoked it."* He was therefore partic 
 ularly anxious to retard their march un 
 til nightfall. His orders were so well 
 obeyed, that the head of the British col 
 umn did not reach Trenton un 
 til four o clock in the afternoon, 
 while their rear was as far back as Maid 
 enhead. As soon as the enemy entered 
 the town, they made a rush for the bridge 
 and the fords across the Assumpink creek, 
 but finding them well guarded, and re 
 ceiving a hot fire from the American ar 
 tillery, they halted and kindled their fires. 
 Thus the two opposing forces remained 
 until dark, with the small stream between 
 them, and cannonading each other with 
 their fieldpieces. 
 
 On the day before only. Washington 
 had received intelligence of a resolution 
 of Congress, which, although it freed him 
 from accountability to others, must have 
 greatly added to the feeling of personal 
 responsibility which now weighed upon 
 him at this trying time. He had, by the 
 deliberate act of the representatives of 
 his country, been endowed with the pow 
 ers of a dictator. The great cause of 
 achieving the independence of the com 
 bined states was confided to him alone. 
 With what a simple yet lofty calmness 
 does he accept the trust ! 
 
 " Instead of thinking myself," Washing 
 ton wTites to the committee of Congress, 
 " freed from all civil obligations, by this 
 mark of their confidence, I shall constant 
 ly 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 
 
 * Memoirs of our Own Times, by General James Wilkin 
 son. 
 
430 
 
 BATTLES 0* AMERICA. 
 
 [PART ir. 
 
 laid aside when those liberties are firmly 
 established."* 
 
 * The following was the resolution of Congress, which 
 w;is then in session at Baltimore : 
 
 "December 27, 1776. This Congress, having maturely 
 considered the present; and having perfect reliance on the 
 wisdom, vigor, and uprightness, of General WASHINGTON, 
 do hereby 
 
 "Resolve, That General WASHINGTON shall be, and he 
 is hereby, vested with full, ample, and complete powers, to 
 raise and collect together, in the most speedy and effectual 
 manner, from any or all of these United States, sixteen bat 
 talions of infantry, in addition to those already voted by 
 Congress; to appoint officers for the said battalions of in 
 fantry ; to raise, officer, and equip, three thousand light- 
 horse, three regiments of artillery, and a corps of engineers, 
 and to establish their pay; to apply to any of the states for 
 such aid of the militia as he shall judge necessary ; to form 
 such magazines of provisions, and in such places, as he shall 
 think proper; to displace and appoint all officers under the 
 rank of brigadier-general, and to fill up all vacancies in ev 
 ery other department in the American army; to take, wher 
 ever he may be, whatever he may want for the use of the 
 army, if the inhabitants will not sell it, allowing a reason 
 able price for the same; to arrest and confine persons who 
 refuse to take the continental currency, or are otherwise dis 
 affected to the American cause ; and r^Mirn to the states of 
 
 A^ 
 
 which they are citizens, their names, and the nature of their 
 offences, together with the witnesses to prove them. 
 
 " That the foregoing powers be vested to General WASH 
 INGTON for and during the term of six months from the date 
 hereof, unless sooner determined by Congress." 
 
 A copy of these resolutions was sent to the governor of 
 each state, together with the following letter : 
 
 " BALTIMORE, December 30, 1776. 
 
 " SIR : Ever attentive to the security of civil liberty, Con 
 gress would not have consented to the vesting of such pow 
 ers in the military department as those which the enclosed 
 resolves convey to the continental commander-in-chief, if the 
 situation of public affairs did not require at this crisis a de 
 cision and vigor which distance and numbers deny to assem 
 blies far removed from each other, and from the immediate 
 seat of war. 
 
 " The strength and progress of the enemy, joined to pros 
 pects of considerable reinforcements, have rendered it not 
 only necessary that the American forces should be augment 
 ed beyond what Congress had heretofore designed, but that 
 they should be brought into the field with all possible expe 
 dition. These considerations induce Congress to request, 
 in the most earnest manner, that the fullest influence of your 
 state may be exerted to aid such levies as the general shall 
 direct, in consequence of the powers now ^iven him; and 
 that your quota of battalions, formally fixed, may be com 
 pleted and ordered to headquarters with all the despatch that 
 an ardent desire to serve the public happiness can dictate. 
 
 <; I have the honor to be, <kc. " JOHN HANCOCK, President." 
 
 Washington was only a thousand yards 
 distant from the front of his enemy. It 
 was true, there was the little stream of 
 the Assumpink intervening, but this was 
 ford able at almost every point. Corn- 
 wallis s columns were displayed in great 
 force along the border of the town and 
 the heights beyond. "Thirty minutes 
 would have sufficed to bring the two ar 
 mies into contact, and thirty more would 
 have decided the combat." But it was 
 growing dark, and the British troops were 
 fatigued with the long march of that day 
 " from sunrise to sunset." They had been 
 under arms for twelve long hours ; they 
 were consequently languid, and required 
 rest. Moreover, Cornwallis thought he 
 had " the enemy safe enough, and could 
 dispose of them the next morning." He 
 therefore ordered his men to make fires 
 refresh themselves, and take repose. The 
 other British officers coincided with their 
 chief, with the exception of Sir William 
 Erskine, who could not control his vexa 
 tion at this imprudent resolution, and ex 
 claimed impetuously, "My lord, if you trust 
 these people to-night, you will see nothing of 
 them in the morning /" Sir William, how 
 ever, was not heeded : the fires were light 
 ed, the men ordered to supper, and the 
 advanced sentries posted for the night. 
 
 Opposite was Washington s army, ap- 
 
 The committee of Congress, composed of Robert Morris 
 and George Clymer of Pennsylvania, and George Walton 
 of Georgia, who remained in Philadelphia, sent the resolu 
 tions of Congress to Washington, with these words : " We 
 find, by these resolves, that your excellency s hands will be 
 strengthened with very ample powers ; and a new reforma 
 tion of the army seems to have its origin therein. Happy 
 it is for the country that the general of their forces can safely 
 be intrusted with the most unlimited power, and neither per 
 sonal security, liberty, nor property, be in the least degree 
 endangered thereby !" SPAKKS. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE ESCAPE FROM CORNWALLIS. 
 
 parently preparing, like the enemy, for 
 repose ; with fires blazing up here and 
 there along the whole line, and the sen 
 tinels pacing the bank of the Assumpink 
 stream, within a hundred and fifty yards 
 of their antagonists. But the approach 
 of night did not bring with it any sugges 
 tion of repose to the minds of Washing 
 ton and his general officers. They were 
 anxiously pondering upon the hazardous 
 position of their army. With an enemy 
 greatly superior in numbers and disci 
 pline before them, and with the Delaware 
 river (clogged with floating ice) behind, 
 there was certainly enough in the pros 
 pects of the dangers of the coming morn 
 ing to disturb the slumbering influences 
 of night. 
 
 Washington, fully conscious of all the 
 hazards of his position, early in the even 
 ing called together his general officers in 
 council. He had but a brief statement 
 to make. The situation of the army was 
 known to all : a battle was certain if his 
 troops remained where they were until 
 the morning, and a defeat hardly less 
 sure, with the superior advantages of the 
 enemy ; if a defeat without means of re 
 treating, the result would be disastrous, 
 and perhaps fatal to the cause. What, 
 then, was to be done, was the question 
 submitted. Some were in favor of re 
 treating at once ; while others were dis 
 
 posed to await the chances of the morn 
 ing, and risk a general engagement, with 
 all its hazards to the troops and to the 
 country. 
 
 In the course of the day, General St. 
 Clair, when charged with the guarding of 
 the fords of the Assumpink, and while ex 
 amining the ground to his right, had dis 
 covered a circuitous route, which was 
 called the " Quaker road," or that leading 
 to the Quaker bridge and meetinghouse.* 
 He, therefore, is said to have suggested 
 this as a way by which Princeton might 
 be reached, and the rear of the British 
 (under the command of General Leslie, 
 on the high-road) be avoided. Washing 
 ton heartily welcomed this suggestion, 
 and adopted it without hesitation. It was 
 accordingly determined to march at once 
 by this roundabout Quaker road to Prince 
 ton, where it was concluded, from the 
 large force which Cornwallis had thrown 
 into Trenton, that he could not have left 
 many troops, and might have left stores. 
 " One thing I was certain of," says Wash 
 ington, " that it would avoid the appear 
 ance of a retreat (which was of conse 
 quence, or to run the hazard of the whole 
 army being cut off), whilst we might, 
 by a fortunate stroke, withdraw General 
 Howe from Trenton, and give some rep 
 utation to our arms." 
 
 * Wilkinson. 
 
432 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAUT II. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 The Quaker Road Providential Change of Wind. The Stolen March. A Successful Ruse. The Night. The Route 
 to Princeton. General Mercer and the Advance. Meeting with the Enemy. A Surprise. A Conflict. The Pro 
 vincials beaten back. Washington to the Rescue. His Personal Exposure and Danger. The Enemy routed. " The 
 Day is our own !" Turned out of College. The Pursuit. A Fine Fox-Chase. Bayoneting of General Mercer. 
 Lord Cormviillis bewildered. " Washington at Princeton !" No Pursuit. Loss on Boih Sides Death of Mercer. 
 Biographical Sketch. Washington retires from Princeton. The Winter s Bivouac. Alarm of Cornwallis, and his 
 Rapid March to Brunswick. The American Winter-Quarters at Morristown. Movements of General Heath. Au 
 Affair, and Heath s own Account of it. 
 
 1777, 
 
 THERE was one serious difficulty 
 in carrying out the plan proposed 
 of a rapid movement that night (January 
 2d) along the rough and circuitous route 
 called the " Quaker road." The weather 
 for two days had been unusually mild, 
 and the ground had become so soft, that 
 it would be almost impracticable to get 
 on with the cattle, carriages, and artille 
 ry. While the council of war, however, 
 are pondering over this difficulty, it is 
 providentially removed. The wind sud 
 denly changes into the northwest ; the 
 weather becomes intensely cold ; and the 
 ground freezes so hard, that soon the road 
 is like a solid pavement. There is now 
 no obstacle to the manoeuvre, and imme 
 diate preparations are made for its exe 
 cution. 
 
 Great precautions are taken to prevent 
 the suspicions of the enemy. Washing 
 ton orders the guards to be doubled at 
 the bridge and the fords of the Assumpink 
 stream, sends a strong fatigue-party with 
 their picks and spades to work on an in- 
 trenchment within hearing distance of the 
 British sentries, and directs the camp-fires 
 to be kept blazing by using the neighbor- 
 
 Jan, 2, 
 
 ing fences for fuel. The first movement 
 is to send off the baggage to Burlington, 
 which is done early in the night. The 
 troops are not prepared to march until 
 twelve o clock. 
 
 The army was filed off silently by de 
 tachments. The night was ex 
 ceedingly dark, although calm, 
 clear, and severely cold. The working- 
 parties, guards, and those charged with 
 keeping the fires blazing, were left be 
 hind, with orders not to retire until tow 
 ard the break of day. The stratagem is 
 entirely successful. The whole American 
 army gets away without exciting the least 
 suspicion on the part of Earl Cornwallis, 
 who reposes for the night in the confi 
 dent expectation of "catching the fox in 
 the morning," as he himself declared to 
 his officers. 
 
 The Quaker road, comparatively new, 
 and not much used, was so scored with 
 deep, frozen ruts, and studded with stumps 
 of trees, that the march was greatly ob 
 structed. Washington s purpose was, to 
 have reached Princeton before daylight, 
 with the expectation of taking the Brit 
 ish troops there by surprise, and of then 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE MUTUAL SURPRISE AT PRINCETON. 
 
 433 
 
 pushing on rapidly to Brunswick, and 
 seizing the magazine and stores before 
 the enemy should take the alarm. The 
 march, however, was so long dehoyed, that 
 the day broke before his van 
 arrived at Princeton. Washing 
 ton, crossing the lower bridge over the 
 Stony brook, kept his main body on the 
 "Quaker road" until he reached a thick 
 wood, when he denied to the right, with 
 the view of taking a by-path toward the 
 town. He ordered General Mercer, how 
 ever, with three hundred and fifty men 
 (composed of the fragments of Colonel 
 Smallwood s brave Delawares and Mary- 
 landers, of the first Virginia regiment, and 
 some few volunteers), together with two 
 fieldpieces, to continue to the left on the 
 Quaker road, which conducted along the 
 Stony brook, until he reached the bridge 
 over which passed the highway that led 
 from Princeton to Trenton. Here he was 
 to take possession of the bridge, for the 
 double purpose of intercepting the fugi 
 tives from Princeton, and to guard against 
 an attack from Cornwallis at Trenton. 
 
 The British had left three regiments at 
 Princeton, under the command of Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Mawhood, when the main 
 body pushed on to Trenton. These were 
 the seventeenth, fortieth, and fifty-fifth. 
 They had been quartered during the pre 
 vious night in the town ; but, at early 
 dawn, the first-named regiment (the sev 
 enteenth), with Mawhood at its head, had 
 marched out by the main road, to join 
 Cornwallis. Passing the bridge over Sto 
 ny brook, they reached some high ground 
 a little distance beyond, on their route, 
 at the moment when Washington s troops 
 55 
 
 were emerging from behind the wood, 
 around which they were defiling toward 
 the town. 
 
 The morning was fine, and in the clear 
 frosty air every object could be distinctly 
 seen. /The British and Americans seemed 
 at this moment to have caught a simul 
 taneous view of each other. On looking 
 across the country toward the Trenton 
 road, some of Washington s officers saw 
 the reflection of arms in the light of the 
 rising sun, as the enemy were ascending 
 the high ground. It was but for a mo 
 ment, however, for the British had imme 
 diately shifted their position. That they 
 had not been less observant was soon evi 
 dent, for two of their horsemen were seen 
 to leap a fence and advance through the 
 fields for the purpose of reconnoitring. 
 After a hurried glance, they galloped 
 back ; and soon the enemy, having faced 
 about, were observed rapidly descending 
 the hill and retracing their steps toward 
 Princeton. They had succeeded in re- 
 crossing the bridge, when, without sus 
 pecting its approach, they suddenly came 
 upon General Mercer s detachment, which 
 was hurrying along the Quaker road tow 
 ard its junction with the highway, for the 
 purpose of securing, in accordance with 
 Washington s orders, the crossing of Stony 
 brook near that point. The two parties 
 were within less than five hundred yards 
 of each other when the mutual surprise 
 took place for Mercer, like Mawhood, 
 was unconscious of the approach of his 
 enemy. 
 
 The two hostile detachments now hur 
 ried to anticipate each other in getting 
 possession of some rising ground, about 
 
434 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT ir. 
 
 half a mile north of Stony brook, to the 
 east of the main road, and on the west 
 ern edge of the town. The Americans, 
 manoeuvring for this purpose, had got in 
 to the orchard behind the house of Wil 
 liam Clark, when they observed the Brit 
 ish, from an opposite point, making for 
 the height. Mercer pushed on his de 
 tachment in all haste through the orchard, 
 and succeeded in first gaining the ground 
 beyond, and so disposing his men as to 
 leave a "worm fence" stretching curvi- 
 cally across the acclivity between them 
 and the enemy. 
 
 Mercer, in possession of the ground, 
 began the attack, under the cover of the 
 fence, with a volley from his riflemen. 
 Mawhood returned the fire, and then or 
 dered his men to charge. The Americans 
 fired again and again, and with terrible 
 effect ; but, as they were only armed with 
 rifles, they could not withstand the onset 
 of the British troops thrusting home their 
 formidable bayonets, and were obliged to 
 retire. At the first volley from the ene 
 my, Mercer s gray horse was shot in the 
 knee, and that gallant officer was forced 
 to dismount, and struggle with the foe 
 hand to hand. The British continued 
 to pursue, and the Americans to retreat, 
 when Washington, hearing the fire, im 
 mediately summoned the Pennsylvania 
 militia and Moulder s battery of two guns 
 to the support of General Mercer, and led 
 them in person against the enemy. 
 
 Colonel Mawhood, observing a large 
 force coming up, is suddenly checked in 
 in the midst of his hot pursuit, and, halt 
 ing, brings up his artillery. The Ameri 
 can militia hesitate to advance, waver be 
 
 fore the shot, and are giving w r ay, when 
 Washington gallops forward and strives 
 to press them on. He is thus, while bran 
 dishing his sw r ord, and spurring his white 
 charger in front of the lines, a conspicu 
 ous target for the enemy. His death ap 
 pears inevitable. His aid-de-camp, Colo 
 nel Fitzgerald, a warm-hearted Irishman, 
 is in a moment aware of the danger of 
 his chief. He drops the reins upon his 
 horse s neck, and draws his hat over his 
 face, that he may not see him die a fate 
 which he believes that Washington at that 
 moment can not possibly escape. 
 
 A shout of victory immediately suc 
 ceeds, and Fitzgerald ventures to raise 
 his eyes. Washington is safe : the mili 
 tia have rallied, Moulder s battery has dis 
 charged a volley of grapeshot, and the 
 British are flying in confused haste, over 
 fields and fences, toward the road lead 
 ing to Trenton, leaving their artillery be 
 hind them. Colonel Fitzgerald, who was 
 " celebrated as one of the finest horsemen 
 in the American army," digs his spurs in 
 to his steed, dashes forward, and, bring 
 ing up by the side of Washington, ex 
 claims, " Thank God, your excellency is 
 safe !" The sudden reaction from despair 
 to joy was too much for the impulsive 
 Irishman, and he " wept like a child." 
 The chief grasped his hand with warmth, 
 and only said : " Away, my dear colonel, 
 and bring up the troops. The day is our 
 own !" 
 
 While the enemy s seventeenth regi 
 ment was being hotly engaged, the fifty- 
 fifth was marching to its aid ; but, on dis 
 covering that their comrades had been 
 put to flight, they returned to the college, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF PRINCETON. 
 
 435 
 
 at the north of the town; where, being re 
 inforced by the fortieth, quartered there, 
 they marched out again to encounter the 
 American detachment under General St. 
 Glair, which had been sent after them. 
 A ravine separated the parties, which, al 
 though deep and precipitous, the Ameri 
 cans did not hesitate to cross. While as 
 cending the acclivity on the opposite side, 
 and when within sixty or eighty yards of 
 them, the British wheeled about, and hur 
 ried back to the college. On reaching 
 it, they began to knock out the windows, 
 that they might have free scope for the 
 use of their musketry. The Americans, 
 as they came up, expected warm work ; 
 but they had hardly got within a quarter 
 of a mile of the building, when the ene 
 my rushed out at the front, and retreated 
 by long and loose files to Rock hill, and 
 thence to Brunswick. As St. Glair had 
 no cavalry, he could not pursue the fugi 
 tives, although such was the disorder of 
 their flight, that " two troops of dragoons 
 would have picked up the two regiments." 
 
 While Colonel Mawhood was fly ing over 
 the fields and fences toward the road to 
 Trenton, Washington was encouraging his 
 troops in pursuit, and, as his riflemen were 
 charging them, he shouted, " It is a fine 
 fox-chase, my boys !" The American gen 
 eral, no less spirited a sportsman than 
 Lord Cornwallis, was evidently enjoying 
 " the run" as much as that nobleman had 
 anticipated for himself, when, on the pre 
 ceding night, he so complacently talked 
 of " catching the fox in the morning." 
 
 General Mercer s horse was crippled 
 by a shot, as we have seen, in the begin 
 ning of the engagement, and he himself 
 
 obliged to dismount. As he was in front 
 of his men, trying ineffectually to rally 
 them, he was left alone on the field, and 
 the British soldiers, coming up, knocked 
 him down, bayoneted him, and left him 
 for dead. He was afterward found near 
 the barn of William Clark, still alive, and 
 conveyed to Clark s house, where he lin 
 gered for awhile under the effect of his 
 fatal wounds. 
 
 The distant firing was heard in the Brit 
 ish camp at Trenton. Some thought it 
 w r as thunder ; and Earl Cornwallis, with 
 an expression of anxiety, asked his sur 
 rounding officers what it could be. Sir 
 William Erskine (who had so earnestly 
 recommended an attack on the evenino- 
 
 o 
 
 before) immediately answered, "My lord, 
 it is Washington at Princeton !" 
 
 While the American troops were gath 
 ering together in Princeton, there was 
 great alarm felt for the safety of Wash 
 ington, who had followed the enemy in 
 pursuit several miles along the road to 
 Trenton. He continued after the fugi 
 tives, and did not turn back until General 
 Leslie, commanding the rear of the Brit 
 ish at Maidenhead, discovering that Wash 
 ington s army was behind and not before 
 as he had supposed, changed his front, 
 and, followed by Cornwallis and his main 
 body, began to march toward Princeton, 
 which he reached just as the rear-guard 
 of the Americans was leaving Wash 
 ington, on his return, having ordered his 
 troops to march immediately. The pre 
 caution was taken to break down the 
 bridge over Stony brook ; but the British 
 commander, not waiting to replace it, or 
 dered his men (he himself showing them 
 
436 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATIT II. 
 
 the example) to plunge into the shallow 
 stream and wade across. Thus thorough 
 ly wetted, and then stiffened into ice by 
 the frost, the troops hurried on into the 
 town and thence along the road toward 
 Brunswick, which, with its stores and mag 
 azines, was supposed to be Washington s 
 next point of attack. 
 
 The Americans were not disposed to 
 linger at Princeton, with the whole army 
 of Cornwallis pressing by a forced march 
 on their rear. Washington s original plan 
 was, to have pushed on to Brunswick ; 
 but the harassed state of the troops, many 
 of them having had no rest for two nights 
 and a day, and the danger of losing the 
 advantage he had gained by aiming at 
 too much, induced him, "by the advice 
 of his officers," to give it up. But " in 
 my judgment," says Washington, " six or 
 eight hundred fresh troops, upon a forced 
 march, would have destroyed all their 
 stores and magazines, taken their mili 
 tary chest containing seventy thousand 
 pounds, and put an end to the war." 
 
 The result at Princeton was sufficiently 
 successful to greatly encourage the Amer 
 icans and dishearten the enemy. Wash 
 ington had only lost about a hundred in 
 all, fourteen of whom were buried on the 
 field. The British, in killed, wounded, 
 and prisoners, suffered a loss of nearly six 
 hundred. Amono; the killed of the Ens;- 
 
 O O 
 
 lish officers was a Captain Leslie, son of 
 the earl of Levin, who was so much be 
 loved, that those who were taken prison 
 ers besought the privilege of his being 
 buried with the honors of war ; and when 
 it was gran ted, the men who had belonged 
 to his company were observed to weep 
 
 bitterly over the grave of their young 
 commander. Washington, too, grieved 
 over the death of some of the most able 
 and spirited of his officers. These were, 
 Colonels Haslet and Potter; Major Mor 
 ris ; Captains William Shippen, Fleming, 
 and Neal; and, above all, General Mer 
 cer. 
 
 Mercer was at first supposed to have 
 died on the field, or Washington would 
 have endeavored to bring him away, al 
 though he believed, as he declared, " that 
 it could not have been effected." When 
 he heard that he was still lino-erin^ at 
 
 o O 
 
 Princeton, the commander-in-chief sent his 
 nephew, Major Lewis, under a flag, to the 
 enemy, to visit him. Mercer was dying ; 
 but with his aid-de-camp, Major Arm 
 strong, constantly at his side, and the 
 family of the Clarks (in whose house he 
 was) ever at hand to administer to his 
 wants, the last moments of the general, 
 though his w r ounds gave him acute pain, 
 were greatly soothed. He died in the 
 fifty-sixth year of his age, in the arms of 
 Major Lewis, on the 12th of January. 
 
 HUGH MERCER was a Scotchman by birth 
 and a Jacobite, having served on the side 
 of the Young Pretender, Prince Charles 
 Edward, as a surgeon s mate, at the battle 
 of Culloden, in 1746. When the cause 
 of the Stuarts was extinguished for ever, 
 and its friends dispersed, Mercer emigra 
 ted to Virginia. In the French border 
 wars, he laid aside the scalpel for the 
 sword, and became a military officer, serv 
 ing in the campaigns of 175-5 and 1756 
 as a comrade of Washington, by whom 
 he was greatly beloved. Mercer was liv 
 ing in Fredericksburg, Virginia, when the 
 
EEVOLUTIONAEY.] HUGH MERCER. ALARM OF THE BRITISH. 
 
 437 
 
 American Revolution began, and, though 
 he was practising as a doctor with suc 
 cess, he gave up his profession, and vol 
 unteered to bear arms in the cause of the 
 colonies. In 1775 and 1776, he organ 
 ized and commanded large bodies of the 
 Virginia militia; and on the 5th of June, 
 of the latter year, he was appointed by 
 Congress a brigadier-general. He was an 
 intimate associate of Washington s moth 
 er and sister, who were his neighbors at 
 Fredericksburg, and highly esteemed by 
 Washington himself, who knew him as a 
 faithful comrade and sincere friend. He 
 spoke of him, while mourning his death, 
 as " the brave and worthy General Mer 
 cer." 
 
 Having given up all thought of march 
 ing immediately upon Bruns 
 wick, Washington now retired 
 from Princeton. He was not greatly en 
 cumbered with baggage, for that of his 
 own army he had sent to Burlington, and 
 there was nothing of the enemy s to take 
 away but some blankets, shoes, and a few 
 other trifling articles. The two fieldpieces 
 which had been captured from the Brit 
 ish could not be brought away for the 
 want of horses. The hay and " other 
 such things" as the shortness of the time 
 would admit were destroyed, and then 
 the army marched out. The Americans 
 proceeded down the Millstone river, and 
 halted for the first night at Somerset 
 courthouse, where many of the militia on 
 that January night were obliged to lie 
 down in the open air without blankets, 
 which with the rest of their baggage had 
 been sent to Burlington. 
 
 Next morning, Washington marched to 
 
 Jan. 4. 
 
 Pluckimen, where he halted for 
 several days. The hardships of 
 a winter campaign would, it was feared, 
 discourage the militia, as well might be 
 the case, when they were day after day 
 and night after night in midwinter with 
 out " any cover," and many of the " poor 
 soldiers quite barefoot and ill clad in oth 
 er respects. . . They have undergone, how 
 ever," says Washington, "more fatigue 
 and hardship than I expected militia, es 
 pecially citizens, could have done at this 
 inclement season." 
 
 Earl Cornwallis was in a state of great 
 alarm for the safety of his stores, maga 
 zines, and well -filled military chest, at 
 Brunswick. He pushed on with his whole 
 army, in the greatest speed, to save them. 
 The camp at Trenton was broken up and 
 totally abandoned. Princeton was en 
 tered, and, after a check from the battery 
 of the American rear-guard which delayed 
 him over an hour, Cornwallis hurried on 
 again, and by forced marches (here and 
 there retarded by the want of bridges, 
 which Washington had taken care to de 
 stroy) reached Brunswick. 
 
 The enemy seemed to be panic-struck, 
 and Washington was in " some hopes of 
 driving them out of the Jerseys." In or 
 der to effect this, he wrote to General 
 Putnam, then at Philadelphia, and also to 
 General Heath at Peekskill, to co-operate 
 with him in his design. To the former 
 he says : " It is thought advisable 
 for you to march the troops un 
 der your command to Crosswicks, and 
 keep a strict watch upon the enemy in 
 that quarter. If the enemy continue at 
 Brunswick, you must act with great cir- 
 
 Jau. 5. 
 
438 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Jail. 5. 
 
 cumspection, lest you meet with a sur 
 prise. As we have made two successful 
 attacks upon them by surprise, if there is 
 any possibility of retaliating, they will at 
 tempt it. You will give out your strength 
 to be twice as great as it is. Forward on 
 all the baggnge and scattered troops be 
 longing to this division of the army, as 
 soon as may be. 
 
 " You will keep as many spies out as 
 you may see proper. A number of horse 
 men might be kept going backward and 
 forward for this purpose ; and if you dis 
 cover any motion of the enemy which 
 you can depend upon, and which you 
 think of consequence, let me be informed 
 thereof as soon as possible by express." 
 To General Heath Washington wrote : 
 " The enemy are in great con 
 sternation ; and, as the panic af 
 fords us a favorable opportunity to drive 
 them out of the Jerseys, it has been de 
 termined in council that you should move 
 down toward New York with a consider 
 able force, as if you had a design upon 
 the city." It was hoped that, by such a 
 diversion, the British would be obliged to 
 draw a large part of their force from New 
 Jersey, for the protection of New York. 
 General Lincoln was ordered, after leav 
 ing four thousand of the New-England 
 militia with Heath, to cross the Hudson 
 with the remainder, and march them to 
 join the commander-in-chief at 
 Morristown, where he had now 
 moved his troops. 
 
 Washington had gone to Morristown, 
 as the place best calculated in that quar 
 ter to accommodate and refresh his army. 
 Its resources proving less than he expect- 
 
 Jan. 6. 
 
 ed, and his men becoming so impatient 
 from the severity of the season and their 
 consequent sufferings, that they left him 
 in considerable numbers, he thought of 
 removing. He finally determined, how 
 ever, to take up his winter-quarters at the 
 place, for he did not know where else to 
 procure covering for his troops. Wilkin 
 son says : " This position,little understood 
 at the time, was afterward discovered to 
 be a most safe one for the winter-quarters 
 of an army of observation, and such was 
 General Washington s. The approach to 
 it from the seaboard is rendered difficult 
 and dangerous by a chain of sharp hills, 
 which extend from Pluckimen by Bound- 
 brook and Springfield to the vicinity of 
 the Passaic river ; it is situate -in the heart 
 of a country abounding with forage and 
 provisions, and is nearly equidistant from 
 New York and Amboy, and also from New 
 ark and New Brunswick, with defiles in 
 rear to cover a retreat should circum 
 stances render it necessary." 
 
 Washington, on arriving at Morristown, 
 repeated his orders to General Heath in 
 regard to advancing on the city of New 
 York,but suggested that General Lincoln 
 should remain with him, instead of ac 
 companying the New-England detach 
 ment ordered to Morristown. Heath at 
 once began to make his dispositions in ac 
 cordance with Washington s orders. He 
 moved his troops down from Peekskill, 
 advancing them gradually toward New 
 York. On one day a regiment is marched 
 to Newcastle, and on another the militia 
 is ordered to White Plains. Again, " our 
 general," as he always designates himself, 
 moves to the southward, and arrives at 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] "OUR GENERAL" ADVANCES AND RETREATS. 
 
 439 
 
 Newcastle before sunset. Soon he is again 
 on the march, and " our general" reaches 
 the outposts of the enemy at Fort Inde 
 pendence and Kingsbridge, where his 
 three divisions have also arrived: "Gen 
 eral Lincoln s on the heights above Colo 
 nel Van Cortland s; Wooster s at Wil- 
 liams s ; and Scott s on the back of Vol- 
 en tine s." Here occurred an engagement, 
 which we shall allow Heath to describe 
 in his own words: 
 
 " Our general, who moved with the cen 
 tre division, knew that Yolentine s house 
 was the quarters of one of the guards ; 
 he did not know but it might be defend 
 ed. As he approached it, he ordered Cap 
 tain Bryant to advance a fieldpiece to the 
 advance-guard, and, if there was any op 
 position from the house, to cannonade it 
 immediately. He then ordered two hun 
 dred and fifty men from the head of the 
 column (as it was moving on) to incline 
 to the right, and by a double step to push 
 into the hollow, between the house and 
 the fort, to cut off the guard who were at 
 the house, in case they should run tow 
 ard the latter. At this instant, two lightr 
 horsemen, who had been sent out by the 
 enemy as the day broke to reconnoitre 
 the vicinity, came unexpectedly, at the 
 descent of a hill, plump upon the head 
 of Wooster s column. They attempted to 
 turn about, but, before it could be fully 
 effected, a fieldpiece was discharged at 
 them : one of them was pitched from his 
 horse and taken prisoner ; the other gal 
 loped back to the fort, hallooing as he 
 passed, The rebels ! the rebels ! This 
 set all the outguards and pickets running 
 to the fort, leaving in some places their 
 
 arms, blankets, tools, provisions, &c., be 
 hind them. Those who fled from Volen- 
 tine s and the Negro fort were fired at as 
 they ran, but none were killed : one who 
 could not run so fast as the rest was ta 
 ken prisoner. Ten muskets were taken 
 at Volentine s house. The guard above 
 Van Cortland s was as completely sur 
 prised as the others, where General Lin 
 coln took about forty arms, some blan 
 kets, &c., &c. 
 
 "The left and centre divisions moved in 
 to the hollow, between Volentine s house 
 and the fort, from whence our general im 
 mediately sent a summons to the com 
 manding officer of the fort to surrender." 
 As " our general" modestly withholds the 
 lofty words he used on that occasion, we 
 here supply them : " Forty minutes only," 
 said Heath, " can be allowed for the gar 
 rison to give their answer; and, should it 
 be in the negative, they must abide the 
 consequences." No answer was given ; 
 and the only consequence which followed 
 was the firing of a gun at an outpost ! 
 
 In a few days, General Heath, with all 
 his usual skill in tactics, drew back his 
 army up the Hudson having learned 
 from a soi-disant deserter that Governor 
 Sir Guy Carleton s Canadian troops had 
 lately arrived in New York by water, and 
 that a detachment from Rhode Island, un 
 der Lord Percy, was about to land in 
 Westchester county. Fearful of being 
 thus surrounded, and threatened by " the 
 appearance of a severe snowstorm com 
 ing on," Heath cautiously retired. " Our 
 general," who prided himself upon being, 
 above all things, a good tactician, could 
 hardly have felt flattered by this criticism 
 
440 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 from Washington on these late manoeu 
 vres : " This letter," he says, writing to 
 Heath, "is in addition to my public one 
 of this date. It is to hint to you, and I 
 do it with concern, that your conduct is 
 censured (and by men of sense and judg 
 ment, who have been with you on the 
 expedition to Fort Independence) as be 
 ing fraught with too much caution, by 
 which the army has been disappointed, 
 and in some degree disgraced. Your 
 summons, as you did not attempt to ful 
 fil 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 that they have composed no part 
 of my public letter. Why you should be 
 
 so apprehensive of being surrounded, even 
 if Lord Percy had landed, I can not con 
 ceive. You know that landing men, and 
 procuring horses, are not the work of an 
 hour, a day, or even a week." 
 
 Heath had a word to say for himself: 
 " Every officer," he declares, " objected to 
 a storm, as they apprehended the militia 
 inadequate to such enterprise." In his 
 memoir, Heath says that his " success at 
 the outposts flew through the country, 
 and was soon magnified to a reduction of 
 the fort and capture of the garrison. It 
 reached General Washington long before 
 the official account, and he had commu 
 nicated the report to Congress ; hence a 
 double disappointment, when the true 
 state of facts was received." 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 The Hessian Prisoners. Their Reception. Hootings and Revilings. Interposition of Washington. " A Very Good 
 Rebel." Treatment of American Prisoners. Prison-Ships at New York. Disease and Death, Famine and Filth, 
 Robbery and Insult. The Waste-House. Otho Williams s Experiences. Ethan Allen a Prisoner in New York. 
 His Emphatic Opinion of Loring and of Cunningham. Washington writes to General Howe, on Behalf of the Ameri 
 can Prisoners at New York. The Letter. General Lee at New York. Exchange proposed and refused. Retaliation. 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell the First Victim. His own Account of his Sufferings. Washington disapproves of 
 the Treatment of Campbell. He remonstrates with Congress. The Reply of that Body. 
 
 1777, 
 
 THE Hessian prisoners, who had 
 been taken after the successful sur 
 prise at Trenton, were carried across the 
 Delaware, and then sent through the in 
 terior of Pennsylvania to Winchester, in 
 Virginia. As they passed from place to 
 place, the exasperated common people of 
 the country, looking upon them with hor 
 ror and detestation as so many hired rob 
 bers and murderers, hooted and reviled 
 
 them at every step. Washington, how 
 ever, with a feeling of humanity and a 
 motive of policy, ordered notices to be 
 posted about the country, calling upon 
 the inhabitants to treat the Hessian sol 
 diers with kindness, as they were not re 
 sponsible for the war, but mere passive 
 instruments in the hands of a tyrannical 
 and cruel government. It was hoped that 
 many of the prisoners, while proceeding 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] HESSIAN AND AMERICAN PRISONERS CONTRASTED. 441 
 
 through Pennsylvania, and mingling with 
 the German population of that province, 
 mi flit, by kindness and association with 
 those speaking their own language, be 
 conciliated toward the American cause. 
 Washington s interposition was not with 
 out its effect ; for " from this time," con 
 fesses a Hessian officer, " things went bet 
 ter with us. Every clay came many out 
 of the towns, old and young, rich and poor, 
 and brought us provisions, and treated us 
 with kindness and humanity."* They felt 
 grateful to Washington for a treatment 
 which was so much beyond their expec 
 tations, and did not hesitate to style him 
 " a very good rebel."f 
 
 The American prisoners in the hands 
 of their British captors met with a very 
 different fate. Those who had been ta 
 ken at the surrender of Fort Washington 
 were driven through the streets of New 
 York, amid the hootings and revilings of 
 soldiers tribes and other vagabonds, male 
 and female, who are always hanging, like 
 so many screeching vultures, about an ar 
 my, and living upon its plunder and cor 
 ruption. " Which is Washington ? which 
 is Washington?" cried these ill-omened 
 creatures, who believed that the war was 
 at an end, and that the American leader 
 himself was among those who were thus 
 exposed to their foul aspersions. 
 
 The men were thrust in crowds into 
 the prison -ships, churches, and sugar- 
 houses. Here they were enclosed within 
 bare walls, scantily supplied with provis 
 ions of bad quality, wretchedly clothed, 
 and destitute of sufficient fuel, if indeed 
 they had any. Disease was the inevita- 
 
 * Quoted by Irving. ( Timelier. 
 
 5G 
 
 ble consequence, and the prisons where 
 the American captives were immured soon 
 became hospitals. A fatal malady was 
 generated, and the mortality thence en 
 suing was enormous. Some fifteen hun 
 dred prisoners were supposed to have per 
 ished in the course of a few weeks in the 
 city of New York ! The dead, too, were 
 treated with brutal dishonor ; their bod 
 ies being allowed to lie in numbers un 
 co ffined and exposed, to the horror of 
 their living comrades, and to the jeers of 
 the insulting enemy. 
 
 Some of the American officers had less 
 to complain of, and were enabled to en 
 joy " the benefit of free air and the use 
 of their limbs." Graydon, who was a 
 prisoner in New York at that time, says : 
 " I ventured to take boarding at four dol 
 lars per week. I knew that I had an ex 
 cellent banker in Philadelphia, and that 
 if specie was to be procured, my good 
 mother would take care to get it and 
 send it to me." But all had not, like 
 Graydon, the specie of a banker, or the 
 more sterling fund of a mother s affection, 
 to draw upon. Graydon, too, with the 
 clever tact of a man of the world, suc 
 ceeded in conciliating the good will of 
 the oppressors, by whom he was treated 
 with exceptional indulgence, although 
 not seldom " berebelled." The fate of 
 others was more cruel. 
 
 Many of the American officers were 
 plundered of their baggage, robbed of 
 their side-arms, hats, and cockades, and 
 otherwise grossly ill treated. A Major 
 Otho Holland Williams, of Colonel Raw- 
 lings s rifle-regiment, was one of those 
 who fell into the hands of the enemy 
 
442 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 after the surrender of Fort Washington. 
 He and three companies of the regiment 
 were put on board the Baltic merchant 
 man, used as a hospital-ship, and then ly 
 ing in Long-island sound. Here he was 
 placed upon such a small allowance of 
 food, that he was only saved from fam 
 ishing by " a pittance of pork and pars 
 nips" which a good-natured sailor spared 
 from his own mess. In a few days, Wil 
 liams and his companions were taken 
 ashore, and, having been put into one 
 common dirt-cart, were dragged through 
 the city of New York, amid the hootings 
 of the crowd, to an old "waste-house," 
 near the Bridewell. Here they were glad 
 to find a rest from the insults and suffer 
 ings which they had endured, although 
 it was in a place which, from its " open 
 ness and filthiness," had a few months be 
 fore, while Washington was in possession 
 of the city, been refused as barracks for 
 the private soldiers. Such officers as had 
 not the banking facilities or the maternal 
 resources of Graydon, were obliged to take 
 their board in the "waste-house," and con 
 tent themselves with "six ounces of pork, 
 one pound of biscuit, and some peas, per 
 day, and two bushels and a half of sea- 
 coal per week, for each." Such ill-condi 
 tioned quarters and meager fare soon had 
 their natural effect upon the health of 
 the officers. 
 
 Ethan Allen s great stalwart frame had 
 lost its robustness ; and his gay suit of 
 blue-and-gold, which had been bestowed 
 upon him by his admirers in Cork, hung 
 loosely upon his body, collapsing under 
 his meager prison-diet. After his capture 
 in Canada, and a voyage to England and 
 
 thence back to Halifax, Allen had been 
 conveyed to New York, where he was 
 now a prisoner, startling both friend and 
 foe with his emphatic denunciations and 
 his stories of his strange adventures and 
 doughty deeds. No doubt his British jail 
 ers congratulated themselves upon hav 
 ing caged so formidable a fellow. There 
 must have been something to be dreaded 
 in one who could growl so fiercely and 
 bite so effectively. His captors he sav 
 agely denounced, and particularly Loring, 
 the British commissary of prisoners, say 
 ing : " He is the most mean-spirited, cow 
 ardly, deceitful, and destructive animal, in 
 God s creation below ; and legions of in 
 fernal devils, with all their tremendous 
 horrors, are impatiently ready to receive 
 Howe and him, with all their detestable 
 accomplices, into the most exquisite ago 
 nies of the hottest regions of hell-fire !" 
 Of Cunningham, the provost-marshal, he 
 said that " he was as great a rascal as the 
 army could boast of." and other testimony 
 seems to confirm Allen s opinion ; for this 
 British official w T ould stride about the 
 prison, whip in hand, and send the pris 
 oners to bed as if they had been so many 
 hounds, with the cry " Kennel, ye sons 
 of bitches! kennel, G-dd n ye !"* That 
 Allen s persecutors might be made con 
 scious that "his bite was as good as his 
 bark," he used to show a fracture in one 
 of his teeth, occasioned by his twisting 
 off with it, in a fit of anger, the nail which 
 fastened the bar of his handcuffs, while in 
 irons on shipboard ! " D n him, can he 
 eat iron ?" was the exclamation of his as 
 tonished listeners. 
 
 * Graydon. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 WASHINGTON REMONSTRATES. 
 
 443 
 
 Washington, hearing of the treatment 
 of the American prisoners at New York, 
 immediately wrote to General Sir William 
 Howe, denouncing it, and threatening re 
 taliation in case it was not changed for 
 the better. Those prisoners, who had re 
 cently been restored to liberty, " give the 
 most shocking account," writes Washing 
 ton, "of their barbarous usage, which their 
 miserable, emaciated countenances con 
 firm If you are determined," he says 
 
 to Howe, " to make captivity as distres 
 sing as possible, let me know it, that we 
 may be upon equal terms, for your con 
 duct must and shall regulate mine." To 
 the admiral, Lord Howe, Washington has 
 also occasion to write, in consequence of 
 the complaint of a Captain Sanble, of the 
 ill treatment which he and other naval 
 prisoners had suffered. In these words 
 of dignified remonstrance his lordship is 
 addressed : " From the opinion I have 
 ever been taught to entertain of your 
 lordship s humanity, I will not suppose 
 that you are privy to proceedings of so 
 cruel and unjustifiable a nature; and I 
 hope that, upon making the proper in 
 quiry, you will have the matter so regu 
 lated, that the unhappy persons whose 
 lot is captivity may not in future have 
 the miseries of cold, disease, and famine, 
 added to their other misfortunes. You 
 may call us rebels, and say that we de 
 serve no better treatment ; but remem 
 ber, my lord, that, supposing us rebels, 
 we still have feelings as keen and sensi 
 ble as loyalists, and will, if forced to it, 
 most assuredly retaliate upon those up 
 on whom we look as the unjust invaders 
 of our rights, liberties, and properties. I 
 
 should not have said thus much, but my in 
 jured countrymen have long called upon 
 me to endeavor to obtain a redress of 
 their grievances ; and I should think my 
 self as culpable as those who inflict such 
 severities, were I to continue silent." 
 
 General Lee, who had been at New 
 York ever since his surprise and capture 
 by the British, was kept a close prisoner, 
 being considered by Sir William Howe 
 as a deserter. Lee, however, was not 
 brought to trial, as it was doubted wheth 
 er, by his public resignation of his half- 
 pay as lieutenant-colonel in the British 
 service, previous to his acceptance of a 
 commission in the American army, he was 
 still amenable to military law for deser 
 tion. Howe informed the English minis 
 try of his doubts, and received this per 
 emptory answer : " As you have difficul 
 ties about bringing General Lee to trial 
 in America, it is his majesty s pleasure 
 that you send him to Great Britain by the 
 first ship-of-war." In the meantime, how- 
 ever,Washington had refused to exchange 
 the Hessian field-officers taken at Tren 
 ton, or Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell, un 
 less General Lee was recognised as a pris 
 oner-of-war. Howe, in consequence, fear 
 ing that his German troops might grow 
 discontented if their officers should suffer 
 from Washington retaliating upon them 
 for the treatment of Lee, waited for fur 
 ther instructions from the home govern 
 ment before sending him away. The next 
 despatch from the British minister was in 
 these words : " His majesty consents that 
 Lee (having been struck off the half-pay 
 list) shall, though deserving the most ex 
 emplary punishment, be deemed as a pris- 
 
444 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT II. 
 
 oner-of-war, and may be exchanged as 
 such, when you may think proper." 
 
 It is but just to state that both Lord 
 Howe, the admiral, and Sir William Howe, 
 the commander of the land-forces, indig 
 nantly repelled all responsibility for the 
 ill treatment of the American prisoners 
 in their hands. His lordship emphatical 
 ly declared : " I abhor every imputation 
 of wanton cruelty in multiplying the mis 
 eries of the wretched, or of treating them 
 with needless severity." Sir William in 
 sisted that the prisoners were " provided 
 with proper habitations, sufficient and 
 wholesome food, and medicines." The 
 illness and speedy death of many were, 
 however, not denied. Those gentlemen 
 were, no doubt, guiltless of the inhuman 
 ity of direct and intentional cruelty, al 
 though they were justly held responsible 
 for the sufferings (probably somewhat ex 
 aggerated) caused by their agents. 
 
 During the early period of General 
 Lee s imprisonment, Sir William Howe, 
 while awaiting instructions from his gov 
 ernment, resisted all appeals toward miti 
 gating the severity of his captivity. Five 
 Hessian officers were offered in exchange 
 for Lee, but refused. Congress accord 
 ingly determined to retaliate, and Wash 
 ington wrote to General Howe : " I must 
 give you warning that Major-General Lee 
 is looked upon as an officer belonging to 
 and under the protection of the United 
 Independent States of America ; and that 
 any violence you may commit upon his 
 life or liberty will be severely retaliated 
 upon the lives or liberties of the British 
 officers, or those of their foreign allies, at 
 present in our hands." 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell, who had 
 been taken prisoner on board a transport 
 captured off Boston, was the first to suf 
 fer. He was lodged in the common jail 
 of Concord, and there treated as if he had 
 been a criminal condemned for the most 
 atrocious crimes. His dungeon was but 
 twelve or thirteen feet square, and shut 
 out from the adjoining yard by two doors, 
 with double locks and bolts. Although 
 
 O 
 
 it was in the depth of winter, the window 
 was barred only with iron, and unglazed. 
 He had, however, an inner apartment, but 
 this was described as " a loathsome, black 
 hole, decorated with a pair of fixed chains," 
 from which its former occupant, a felon, 
 had just been removed, leaving his litter 
 and filth behind him. "The attendance 
 of a single servant," said Campbell, in a 
 letter to General Howe, "is also denied 
 me, and every visit from a friend posi 
 tively refused. In short, sir, was a fire 
 to happen in any chamber of the jail 
 which is all wood, the chimney-stacks ex- 
 cepted I might perish in the flames be 
 fore the jailer could go through the cer 
 emony of unbolting the doors ; although, 
 to do him justice, in his station, I really 
 think him a man of humanity : his house 
 is so remote, that any call from within, 
 especially if the wind was high, might be 
 long of reaching him effectually." 
 
 This was certainly hard treatment for 
 a colonel in the British army, and a mem 
 ber of Parliament, and one who had as 
 yet been guiltless of American blood. 
 Washington remonstrated with the coun 
 cil of Massachusetts for this excessive se 
 verity, reminding them that Campbell, 
 according to the act of Congress, was to 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 WASHINGTON APPEALS TO CONGRESS. 
 
 445 
 
 have exactly the same treatment as was 
 received by General Lee; and, as that 
 officer was " only confined to a commo 
 dious house, with genteel accommoda 
 tions," there was no right or reason in be 
 ing more severe upon Colonel Campbell, 
 whom " I should wish," adds Washington, 
 " should immediately upon the receipt of 
 this [letter] be removed from his present 
 situation, and put in a house where he 
 may live comfortably." 
 
 To Congress Washington also wrote, 
 strongly denouncing this treatment of 
 Campbell, as a retaliation which had 
 been prematurely begun. On the point 
 of policy, apart from the inhumanity, he 
 condemned it. "The balance of prison 
 ers," he says, " is greatly against us ; and 
 a general regard to the happiness of the 
 whole should mark our conduct. Can we 
 imagine that our enemies will not mete 
 the same punishments, the same indigni 
 ties, the same cruelties, to those belong 
 ing to us, in their possession, that we im 
 pose on theirs in our power ? Why should 
 we suppose them to possess more human 
 ity than we have ourselves? Or why 
 should an ineffectual attempt to relieve 
 the distresses of one brave, unfortunate 
 man, involve many more in the same ca 
 lamities ? However disagreeable the fact 
 may be, the enemy at this time [March 
 1] have in their power, and subject to 
 their call, near three hundred officers be 
 longing to the army of the United States. 
 In this number there are some of high 
 rank, and most of them are men of brave 
 ry and of merit. The quota of theirs in 
 our hands bears no proportion, being not 
 more than fifty at most. Under these 
 
 circumstances, we should do no act to 
 draw upon the gentlemen belonging to 
 us, and who have already suffered a long 
 captivity, greater punishments than they 
 have experienced and now experience. 
 If we should, what will their feelings be, 
 and those of their numerous and exten 
 sive connections ? 
 
 "Suppose the treatment of the Hessians 
 should be pursued, will it not establish 
 what the enemy have been aiming to 
 effect by every artifice and the grossest 
 misrepresentation I mean an opinion 
 of our enmity toward them, and of the 
 cruel conduct they experience when they 
 fall into our hands, a prejudice which we 
 on our part have heretofore thought it 
 politic to suppress and root out by every 
 act of lenity and kindness ? It certainly 
 will. The Hessians would hear of the 
 punishments with all the circumstances 
 of heightened exaggeration ; would feel 
 the injury, without investigating the cause 
 or reasoning upon the justice or necessity 
 of it. The mischiefs, which may and must 
 inevitably flow from the execution of the 
 resolves, appear to be endless and innu 
 merable." Thus was the judicious Wash 
 ington always humane in his policy ; and 
 if politic in his humanity, it was only to 
 avoid sacrificing the broad philanthropy 
 of a patriot to the personal benevolence 
 of the sentimentalist. 
 
 Congress, on the receipt of this letter, 
 resolved "that General Washington be 
 informed that Congress can not agree to 
 any alteration in the resolve passed on 
 the 6th of January." This resolve was, 
 " that the board of war be directed im 
 mediately to order the five Hessian field- 
 
446 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 officers and Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell 
 into safe and close custody, it being the 
 unalterable resolution of Congress to re 
 taliate on them the same punishment as 
 may be inflicted on the person of General 
 Lee." In regard, however, to the com 
 
 plaints of Colonel Campbell, Congress 
 deigned to declare that it was never their 
 intention that he should suffer any other 
 hardship than such confinement as was 
 necessary for his security, to carry out 
 the object of their resolve. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 Increased Popularity of the American Cause in New Jersey. General Howe responsible for the Violation of the Rights 
 of Property. His Manifesto of Rapine. American Scoundrels, too. Washington checks and punishes them. His 
 Order against Disorder. His Proclamation to the People of New Jersey. Its Effect. Nothing but Skirmishes. 
 Lord Cornwallis. His Chain of Posts. His Force. The American Line and Posts. Successful Skirmishes with the 
 Enemy. General Philemon Dickinson. His Position and that of his Brother. The Martial Brother. His Engage 
 ment with the British Plunderers. Communications between the Opposing Armies. A Letter from General Lee. 
 His Proposition. Refused by Congress. Lee s Disappointment and Sombre Reflections. Washington regrets the 
 Refusal of Congress. General Putnam s Ruse to magnify his Force in the Eyes of the Enemy. A College Illumina 
 tion. The Effect. The Meager American Force. Fewer Men than Miles to guard. Tardy Reinforcements. 
 Wants. French Applicants for Commissions General Arnold in Rhode Island. An Abortive Plan. New Regi 
 ments and New Officers. Take none but Gentlemen. Five New Major- Generals. 
 
 1777, 
 
 THE American cause had greatly 
 increased in popularity among the 
 New-Jersey people. The Hessian and Brit 
 ish troops spared neither friend nor foe 
 in their cruel devastations ; and, although 
 Sir William Howe could scarcely have 
 been such a monster of iniquity as to 
 justify the brutalities practised by his 
 soldiery upon the defenceless mothers, 
 wives, and daughters, of the country, he 
 clearly made himself responsible for the 
 violation of the rights of property when 
 he issued such orders as this: 
 
 " All salted meat and provisions, which 
 may be judged to exceed the quantity 
 necessary for the subsistence of an ordi 
 nary family, shall be considered as a mag 
 azine of the enemy, and seized for the 
 
 king, and given to the troops as a saving 
 for the public." 
 
 This allowed a wide latitude to the pro 
 pensities of a soldiery for plunder, whose 
 only control was the word of command, 
 and who looked for no principle of action 
 beyond the order of the day. The Amer 
 ican army had its brutal vagabonds, too, 
 eager to rob and destroy ; but in Wash 
 ington their commander they ever found 
 one who, with a scrupulous regard to the 
 rights of person and property, was at all 
 times prompt to punish with severity the 
 least violation of them. It was this which 
 greatly aided now in conciliating to the 
 American cause the people of New Jer 
 sey, who, though afflicted by the horrors 
 of war, triumph who might, could yet dis- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] PROCLAMATIONS. THE OPPOSING ARMIES. 
 
 447 
 
 tinguish between a brutality licensed by 
 authority and that which was emphatic 
 ally denounced and threatened with pun 
 ishment. 
 
 Washington, indignant at the conduct 
 of some of his troops, issued the following 
 emphatic order : " The general 
 prohibits, in both the militia and 
 continental troops, in the most positive 
 terms, the infamous practice of plunder 
 ing the inhabitants, under the specious 
 pretence of their being tories. Let the 
 persons of such as are known to be ene 
 mies to their country be seized and con 
 fined, and their property disposed of as 
 the law of the state directs. It is our 
 business to give protection and support 
 to the poor, distressed inhabitants, not to 
 multiply and increase their calamities. 
 After the publication of this order, any 
 officer, either militia or continental, found 
 attempting to conceal the public stores, 
 plundering the inhabitants under the pre 
 tence of their being tories, or selling at 
 vend ue plunder taken from the enemy, 
 in any other manner than these orders 
 direct, may expect to be punished in the 
 severest manner." Copies of this order 
 were then immediately circulated among 
 all the troops. 
 
 Taking advantage of the favorable dis 
 position of the people, Washington now 
 issued a proclamation, in which 
 he called upon all those who, 
 while the British forces were in the as 
 cendant in New Jersey, had signed decla 
 rations of fidelity to the king of Great 
 Britain, to come forward and take an oath 
 of allegiance to the United States of Amer 
 ica. Those, however, who preferred " the 
 
 Jan, 25* 
 
 interest and protection of Great Britain 
 to the freedom and happiness of their 
 country," were told to withdraw them 
 selves and their families forthwith within 
 the enemy s lines. Many of the people 
 gladly welcomed this opportunity of giv 
 ing their names to a cause in which their 
 hearts were already engaged ; while oth 
 ers, who had only been able to secure 
 British protection by swearing allegiance 
 to the king, hesitated, not because they 
 were less friendly, but more scrupulous. 
 Some of the substantial farmers of the 
 country had thus committed themselves ; 
 and now, although their hearts had been 
 won over to Washington, they felt com 
 pelled to withhold their hands. 
 
 Beyond an occasional skirmish,in which 
 the Americans not seldom got the advan 
 tage, there was little opportunity for ac 
 tion, as Sir William Howe, with his usual 
 caution or indolence, was not disposed to 
 move. Lord Cornwallis, with the main 
 body of the army, was at New Brunswick, 
 w r hile his communication Avith the Hud 
 son river and New York was kept up by 
 means of a chain of small posts. His force 
 was great not less, it was supposed, than 
 eight thousand. The Americans, with 
 their fluctuating militia, were constantly 
 varying in number ; which, however, was 
 never large, seldom over four thousand, 
 and at times reduced as low as fifteen 
 hundred. But the enemy thought them 
 much more numerous ; and, fortunately, 
 they had been favorably impressed by 
 their prowess in the occasional skirmish 
 es which had occurred. 
 
 The whole line of Washington s army 
 was widely extended ; he himself 
 
448 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 with the centre and main body at Morris- 
 town, while General Putnam commanded 
 the right at Princeton, and General Heath 
 the left in the Highlands. From these 
 different points occasional small detach 
 ments (generally militia, for the sake of 
 breaking them gradually into warfare) 
 would be sent out to harass the enemy s 
 outposts, and to pounce upon their fora- 
 ging-parties. In these encounters, the 
 Americans, with the advantage of a thor 
 ough knowledge of the country, and the 
 sympathy of the inhabitants, were gener 
 ally successful. On one Sunday morning, 
 for example, some fifty Waldeckers were 
 fallen in with by about the same number 
 of militia,, and so taken by surprise, that 
 ten of the enemy were killed or wounded, 
 and the rest taken prisoners, while the 
 Americans came off without the least 
 damage. 
 
 On another occasion, General Philemon 
 Dickinson, by a gallant little action, won 
 from the commander the praise "His 
 behavior reflects the highest honor upon 
 him." Dickinson was a man of fortune 
 and influence, belonging to New Jersey, 
 and was now in command of the militia 
 of that state. He was brother to John 
 Dickinson, who, although an earnest po 
 litical writer in behalf of the American 
 cause, opposed (while a delegate to Con 
 gress from Pennsylvania) the Declaration 
 of Independence, as premature. He, in 
 consequence, lost his popularity, but nev 
 er his patriotism. His spirit was not of 
 the warlike stamp of that of his brother. 
 " Where duty and honor require my pres 
 ence," said John Dickinson, " there I shall 
 be; but much, much rather would I choose 
 
 that these severe masters would give me 
 up to my dear connections, my books, and 
 my friends, an intercourse and employ 
 ment for which my constitution is better 
 formed, than for the toils of war, and to 
 cultivate which my temper is more dis 
 posed, than to relish all the united glo 
 ries, could I obtain them, of every heroic 
 death from the Roman Curtius to the 
 British Wolfe." 
 
 The martial brother had just now dis 
 tinguished himself, though not in a way 
 to rival a Curtius or a Wolfe, still in a 
 manner worthy of all praise. General 
 Dickinson had the command of the Amer 
 ican outpost nearest to the enemy at New 
 Brunswick, stationed on the west bank 
 of Millstone river. On the opposite side 
 was a mill, with a large stock of flour ; 
 and Cornwallis, covetous of the booty, 
 had sent out a party to seize it, and take 
 whatever other plunder they could lay 
 their hands on. Dickinson was on the 
 alert, and, heading four hundred New- 
 Jersey militiamen, plunged into the river, 
 and, pouncing upon the plunderers, put 
 them to rout, and relieved them of forty 
 wagons, upward of a hundred horses 
 "most of them of the English draughtr 
 breed" and a number of sheep and cat 
 tle which they had collected. The ene 
 my returned, with nothing to carry back 
 to the camp of Cornwallis but " a good 
 many dead and wounded in light wag 
 ons." 
 
 The ordinary communications between 
 opposing armies were kept up during this 
 period of inactive hostility. Now 
 Lord Cornwallis has a convoy of 
 money and stores to send to the Hessian 
 
KEVOLUTTONAKY.] CONGRESS REFUSES GENERAL LEE S REQUEST. 
 
 449 
 
 prisoners, and wishes a safe-conduct for 
 it through New Jersey and Pennsylvania. 
 Washington answers his lordship that no 
 molestation will be offered by any part 
 of the regular army under his command. 
 " But I can not," he says, " answer for the 
 militia who are resorting to arms in most 
 part of this state, and who are exceedingly 
 exasperated at the treatment they have 
 met with, both from Hessian and British 
 troops." 
 
 Again, flags are passing to and fro, and 
 messengers and bearers of letters coming 
 and going between the hostile camps. 
 On one of these occasions a packet ar 
 rives from General Lee, containing a let 
 ter to Congress under cover of one to 
 Washington, who is most earnestly en 
 treated to despatch it immediately, and 
 order that body to be as expeditious as 
 possible. The letter to Congress contains 
 the request from General Lee that two 
 or three delegates may be sent immedi 
 ately to New York, to whom he had to 
 communicate something, as he avowed, of 
 the greatest importance. What it was, 
 Lee did not say; but it was evidently 
 something concocted between him and 
 the brothers Howe, for he declares that 
 these commanders would grant a safe- 
 conduct to the gentlemen sent. Congress, 
 probably not anxious for the second time 
 to play a part in such a frivolous negoti 
 ation as was the result of the swelling 
 preliminaries arranged by General Sulli 
 van and Lord Howe, resolved that it was 
 inexpedient to send any of their members 
 1o confer with Lee. Notwithstanding, 
 the imprisoned general reiterated his re 
 quest, and was a second time answered 
 
 57 
 
 with a refusal. Lee s captivity had given 
 him an opportunity of reflecting upon the 
 uncertainty of all human greatness ; and 
 1iis manner, if we may judge from his let 
 ter, had lost all its early flash, in the som 
 bre shadow now cast over his thoughts. 
 He writes to Washington in this subdued 
 strain, expressive of his disappointment : 
 
 " It is a most unfortunate circumstance 
 for myself, and I think not less so for the 
 public, that the Congress have not thought 
 proper to comply with my request. It 
 could not possibly have been attended 
 with any ill consequences, and might with 
 good ones. At least, it was an indulgence 
 which I thought my situation entitled me 
 to. But I am unfortunate in everything, 
 and this is the severest I have yet expe 
 rienced. God send you a different fate ! 
 
 " Adieu, my dear general. Yours most 
 truly and affectionately, 
 
 " CHARLES LEE." 
 
 Washington appears to have sympa 
 thized with Lee, or, at any rate, not to 
 have approved of the resolve of Congress, 
 for he says, in a letter to Robert Morris : 
 " I wish, with all my heart, that Congress 
 had gratified General Lee in his request. 
 If not too late, I wish they would do it 
 still. I can see no possible evil that can 
 result from it ; some good I think might. 
 The request to see a gentleman or two 
 came from the general, not from the com 
 missioner ; there could have been no harm, 
 therefore, in hearing what he had to say 
 on any subject, especially as he had de 
 clared that his own personal interest was 
 deeply concerned." 
 
 During these communications between 
 
450 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_PAnT 
 
 the British and the American lines, Wash 
 ington was particularly anxious lest the 
 meairerness of his force should be disco v- 
 
 O 
 
 ered by the enemy. He accordingly in 
 sisted that his officers should avail them 
 selves of the ordinary military expedient 
 authorized by such circumstances, and 
 give out the strength of the army to be 
 twice as great as it was. General Put 
 nam, who was stationed at Princeton, now 
 that he had been deserted by a large 
 party of New-Jersey militia, and left with 
 only a meager remnant of troops, had es 
 pecial reason to bear in mind the order 
 of his commander-in-chief. A British offi 
 cer, who was lying mortally w y ounded in 
 Putnam s camp, requested the privilege 
 of a visit from a friend and comrade sta 
 tioned at Brunswick, under Lord Corn- 
 wallis. The request was granted. A flag 
 was sent, and returned witli the wound 
 ed man s friend. lie was, however, not 
 allowed to enter Princeton until he was 
 blindfolded, and the night had advanced. 
 General Putnam, mindful of Washing 
 ton s orders, and not indisposed to exer 
 cise his Yankee ingenuity in the execu 
 tion of a ruse, took the occasion to pro 
 duce an impression, the largeness of which 
 it was hoped would compensate for the 
 smallness of the American force. He ac 
 cordingly had a light put in every room 
 in the college-buildings, and of the empty 
 houses in the town, and kept his handful 
 of men so noisily parading about, that the 
 British visitor returned to the camp of 
 Earl Cornwallis with the report that the 
 Americans at Princeton were at least five 
 
 thousand strong !* 
 
 * Irviiu 
 
 Jan. 24. 
 
 The Americans, indeed, had every rea 
 son to strengthen themselves in the eyes 
 of the enemy with imaginary reinforce 
 ments, for the real troops came in but 
 slowly to take the place of those rapidly 
 departing. Putnam, at one time, had few 
 er men than miles of frontier to guard ! 
 The militia were constantly in a state of 
 fluctuation. " We have a full army one 
 day," says Washington, " and scarce any 
 the next ; and I am much afraid that the 
 enemy, one day or the other, taking ad 
 vantage of one of these temporary weak 
 nesses, will make themselves masters of 
 our magazines of stores, arms, and artil 
 lery. Nothing but their ignorance of our 
 numbers protects us at this very 
 time; when, on the contrary, had 
 we six or eight thousand regular troops, 
 or could the militia, who were with me a 
 few clays ago, have been prevailed upon 
 to stay, we could have struck such a stroke 
 as would have inevitably ruined the army 
 of the enemy, in their divided state." 
 
 The reinforcements came in so extreme 
 ly slow, there was at times actually dan 
 ger (in the interval of the dissolution of 
 the old and the organization of the new 
 army) that Washington might be left en 
 tirely destitute of men ! Under these cir 
 cumstances, he wrote in the most urgent 
 manner to the governors of the several 
 states to forward on their regiments with 
 all possible expedition. Although, from 
 the supineness of the enemy, there was a 
 long cessation of active hostility, Wash 
 ington was full of work. On one day, he 
 is writing to Governor Trumbull, of Con 
 necticut, entreating him to hasten and 
 equip the lines from that state ; and to 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ORGANIZATION OF THE NEW ARMY. 
 
 451 
 
 Governor Livingston, suggesting a differ 
 ent organization of the militia of New 
 Jersey, whose " officers are generally of 
 the lowest class of the people, and instead 
 of setting a good example to their men, 
 are leading them into every kind of mis 
 chief, one species of which is plundering 
 the inhabitants, under the pretence of 
 their being tories." 
 
 On another day, the general-in-chief is 
 writing to Congress about the destitution 
 of the commissariat department, from the 
 want of money or the want of clothing ; 
 or about the exchange of prisoners, the 
 appointment of officers, and the proper 
 place of the laboratories. Again, he is 
 beset by a number of French officers who 
 come to headquarters applying for com 
 missions in the army. " This evil," says 
 Washington, " is a growing one ; for, from 
 what I learn, they are coming in swarms 
 from Old France and the islands. There 
 will, therefore, be a necessity of providing 
 for them, or discountenancing them. To 
 do the first is difficult; and the last dis 
 agreeable and perhaps impolitic, if they 
 are men of merit; and it is impossible to 
 distinguish these from mere adventurers, 
 of whom 1 am convinced there is the 
 greater number." 
 
 Then, on yet another day, Washington 
 is conferring by letter with General Ar 
 nold about his schemes on Rhode Island. 
 The British were at Newport, to the num 
 ber of six thousand, under the command 
 of Earl Percy. Arnold, immediately after 
 his arrival from the North at the camp of 
 Washington, had been ordered, in con 
 junction with General Spencer, to take 
 command of the American force sent to 
 
 Rhode Island. This consisted of some 
 four or five thousand militia, who were 
 now encamped at Providence. As a de 
 tachment had been ordered away from 
 the camp of the British, which had re 
 duced their numbers to four thousand, 
 Arnold and Spencer proposed an attack 
 on Rhode island. Washington, upon be 
 ing consulted, examines the map sent to 
 him, together with the plan of the enter 
 prise ; and, after suggesting the difficulty 
 of passing a body of water to attack an 
 enemy, and of making a good retreat in 
 case of repulse, advises that the assault 
 should not be made, unless with a strong 
 probability, amounting almost to a cer 
 tainty, of success. The enterprise was 
 finally given up. 
 
 The subject, however, which was upper 
 most in Washington s thoughts at this 
 time, was the recruitment of the new ar 
 my. To this he was directing all his en 
 ergies. Eighty-eight battalions, accord 
 ing to a resolve of Congress, were to be 
 enlisted. Colonel Hazen was sent to su 
 perintend this service in New York and 
 the New-England states; and Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Antill in New Jersey, Pennsylva 
 nia, Maryland, and Virginia. With these 
 gentlemen the commander-in-chief was 
 frequently communicating by letter, ur 
 ging them to exert themselves as much 
 as possible in filling the companies, and 
 sending them forward with the utmost 
 despatch. Over the appointment of the 
 officers to these battalions Washington 
 had but little control, each state choosing 
 its own according to its quota of troops. 
 There were, however, sixteen additional 
 regiments, where the choice of the officers 
 
452 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 was left to the commander-in-chief. He 
 generally contented himself with the ap 
 pointment of the colonels, and left the 
 subordinate commissions to be distributed 
 by them, subject to his approval. Nathan 
 iel Gist, John Patton, William Grayson, 
 Thomas Hartley, Samuel B. Webb, David 
 Henley ,Ezekiel CornellJIenry Sherburne, 
 Alexander Scammel, and Henry Jackson, 
 were the colonels appointed in January, 
 and they were now busily engaged in ob 
 taining men and officers for their regi 
 ments. Colonel Gist was authorized to 
 raise four companies of rangers, and was 
 instructed to proceed to the Cherokee or 
 any other nation of Indians and attempt 
 to procure a number of warriors, not ex 
 ceeding five hundred, who were to be sup 
 plied with arms and blankets, and paid 
 like the continental troops. There was, 
 however, a good deal of reserve on the 
 part of the Americans in availing them 
 selves of the aid of the Indians; and du 
 ring the whole war the British, with less 
 scruple, always succeeded, by their pro 
 fuse largesses, in obtaining a preponder 
 ance of savage auxiliaries. 
 
 While Washington gave his colonels 
 the privilege of choosing their officers, he 
 earnestly recommended them to be cir 
 cumspect in their choice. " Take none," 
 he says, " but gentlemen ; let no local at 
 tachments influence you ; do not suffer 
 your good nature, when an application is 
 made, to say Yes, when you ought to 
 say l No ; remember that it is a public, 
 not a private cause, that is to be injured 
 or benefited by your choice ; recollect, 
 also, that no instance has yet happened 
 of good or bad behavior in a corps in our 
 
 service, that has not originated with the 
 officers. Do not take old men, nor yet 
 fill your corps with boys, especially for 
 captains." 
 
 Washington had constantly urged up 
 on Congress the necessity of hastening 
 the appointment of the general officers. 
 " We have very little time," he says, " to 
 do a very great work in ;" and tells them 
 that, if they are withholding the commis 
 sions from parsimonious principles, they 
 are mistaken. He, with a delicate reserve, 
 did not pretend to direct the choice of 
 Congress, but could not refrain from sug 
 gesting the names of two officers for thf 
 new appointments: General Cadwallader, 
 whom he pronounces a man of ability, a 
 good disciplinarian, firm in his principles, 
 and of intrepid bravery ; and Colonel Reed, 
 whom he recommends for the command 
 of the horse, as a person in every respect 
 qualified. 
 
 Congress finally responded to these ur 
 gent appeals of the commander-in-chief, 
 and appointed five major-gener- 
 als. These were Stirling, Mifllin, 
 St. Clair, Stephen, and Lincoln. Two days 
 after, eighteen brigadier- generals were 
 chosen, namely : Poor, Glover, Patterson, 
 Learned, Varnum, Huntington, Clinton, 
 Wayne, DeHaas,CadAvallader,Haucl,Eeed, 
 Weedon, Muhlenberg, Woodford, Scott, 
 Nash, and Conway.the latter an Irishman. 
 Cadwallader, however, did not accept the 
 appointment. Even this act of Congress, 
 as we shall find, served to add to the em 
 barrassment and anxious cares of Wash 
 ington. Jealousies were excited and dis 
 appointments created, which the chief was 
 called upon to remove and allay. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 MOVEMENTS OF THE BRITISH. 
 
 453 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 Activity of the Enemy. Lord Percy arrives at Amboy. Sir "William Howe in New Jersey. " Some Push" intended. 
 Its Purpose uncertain. Washington persuaded that Philadelphia is the Object of the British. More American Forces, 
 or " the Game at an End." The Indolent Howe true to his Character. The Americans on the Alert. Skirmishes. 
 Success of Nielson of Brunswick. Washington s Skilful Management. Lauded in Europe. Botta s Opinion. Gen 
 eral Arnold s Non-Promotion. Washington takes up his Cause. Arnold s own Protestations. He asks for a Court 
 of Inquiry. Washington opposes, and gives Good Advice. Not taken by Arnold, who persists. Discontent of other 
 Officers, who are soothed by Washington. Difficulties in Recruiting. A Remarkable Letter. The Small-Pox in the 
 Army. Inoculation. Its Mild Effects. Want of Arms. A Timely Arrival from France. Resignation of Colonel 
 Joseph Reed. General Gates offers his Services to Washington. A Dilemma, from which Gates is relieved. He is 
 appointed to the Command of the Forces at Ticonderoga. Irascibility of General Schuyler. He is rebuked by Con 
 gress. Alexander Hamilton appointed Secretary to Washington. 
 
 1777, 
 
 Feb. 20, 
 
 THERE was now some appearance 
 of activity on the part of the ene 
 my. A detachment of their troops, un 
 der Lord Percy, with several pieces of 
 heavy artillery, had moved from Newport, 
 Rhode Island, and landed at Am 
 boy. Sir William Howe, too, had 
 forsaken his snug quarters at New York, 
 with its convivial delights, and come over 
 the Hudson. It was now probable that, 
 with a force of nearly eight thousand men 
 in New Jersey, and the reinforcements 
 just landed and marching to join them, 
 General Howe was "on the point of ma 
 king some push." Whether his object 
 was to beat up the American quarters 
 and extend his own, to make a large for 
 age and collection of provender of which 
 the enemy were in great want, or to cross 
 the Delaware with the view of marching 
 to Philadelphia, could not be determined. 
 Washington was on the alert, but nat 
 urally anxious, when he knew his force 
 was so small as to be quite unequal to a 
 successful opposition. Sir William Howe 
 would surely move forward, thought the 
 
 American general, with Philadelphia as 
 his object. The British were at least ten 
 thousand strong. The Americans were 
 only four thousand. The former were 
 well disciplined, well officered, and well 
 appointed ; the latter raw militia, badly 
 officered, and under no government. Gen 
 eral Howe s numbers, it was true, could 
 not in any short time be increased. As 
 for Washington s, "they must be," he said, 
 " very considerably, and by such troops 
 as we can have reliance upon, or the game 
 is at an end." With what propriety, then, 
 can the enemy miss so favorable an op 
 portunity of striking a heavy blow at 
 Philadelphia, from which the Americans 
 are deriving so many advantages, and the 
 carrying of which would give such eclat 
 to the British arms ? " The longer it is 
 delayed," wrote Washington, who believed 
 the attack was almost certain, " the bet 
 ter for us, and happy shall I be if am de 
 ceived." 
 
 Sir William Howe did not, however, be 
 lie his reputation for indolence. He can 
 toned his reinforcements with the rest of 
 
454 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 his army at Brunswick and the adjacent 
 posts, and sat down to contemplate his 
 magnificent designs for a future campaign. 
 The Americans, notwithstanding, were vi 
 gilant, and attentive at their several posts 
 to guard against surprises ; while every 
 preparation for resistance was made that 
 the feeble state of their little army ad 
 mitted of. Small skirmishes continued ; 
 and, although in one week a militia-guard 
 in Monmouth, near the Hook, is taken by 
 a party of British troops, in the next full 
 revenge is obtained by the success of Colo 
 nel Nielson, of Brunswick. This officer, 
 with a small detachment of militia, sallies 
 out and takes by surprise Major Stockton, 
 of General Skinner s corps of New-Jersey 
 royalists, whom he captures, together with 
 fifty-nine of his men, and all their arms. 
 
 Thus was presented, during the Avhole 
 winter, " the extraordinary spectacle of a 
 powerful army, straitened within narrow 7 
 limits by the phantom of a military force, 
 and never permitted to transgress those 
 limits with impunity, in which skill sup 
 plied the place of means, and disposition 
 was the substitute for an army."* The 
 conduct of Washington was everywhere 
 greatly extolled. Botta, the Italian his 
 torian of America, expresses the admira 
 tion with which it was appreciated in Eu 
 rope : 
 
 "Achievements so astonishing gained 
 for the American commander a very great 
 reputation, and were regarded with won 
 der by all nations, as well as by the Amer 
 icans. Every one applauded the prudence, 
 the firmness, and the daring, of General 
 Washington. All declared him the sav- 
 
 * Alexander Hamilton. 
 
 iour of his country ; all proclaimed him 
 equal to the most renowned commanders 
 of antiquity, and especially distinguished 
 him by the name of the American Falim. 
 His name was in the mouths of all men, 
 and celebrated by the pens of the most 
 eminent writers. The greatest person 
 ages in Europe bestowed upon him praise 
 and congratulation. Thus the American 
 general wanted neither a noble cause to 
 defend, nor an opportunity for acquiring 
 glory, nor the genius to avail himself of 
 it, nor a whole generation of men com 
 petent and well disposed to render him 
 homage."* 
 
 Horace Walpole wrote thus to Mann : 
 "Washington, the dictator,has shownliim- 
 self both a Fabius and a Camillus. His 
 march through our lines is allowed to 
 have been a prodigy of generalship." 
 
 In the list of the new major-generals 
 chosen by Congress, the name of Arnold 
 had been omitted, although those thus 
 appointed w r ere all his juniors in rank. 
 This gave Washington great concern, and 
 he w r rote to Richard Henry Lee, a mem 
 ber of Congress from Virginia : " I am 
 anxious to know whether General Ar 
 nold s non-promotion w r as owing to acci 
 dent or design ; and the cause of it. Sure 
 ly a more active, a more spirited and sen 
 sible officer, fills no department in yotu 
 army. Not seeing him, then, in the list 
 of major-generals, and no mention made 
 of him, has given me uneasiness; as it is 
 not to be presumed, being the oldest brig 
 adier, that he will continue in service un 
 der such a slight," Fearing the effect of 
 this neglect upon the irascible temper of 
 
 * Quoted by Sparks. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 GENERAL ARNOLD S NON-PROMOTION. 
 
 455 
 
 Arnold, Washington wrote to entreat him 
 not to take any hasty steps, and he would 
 use his best endeavors to remedy any er 
 ror that might have been committed. 
 
 Arnold, after courteously acknowledg 
 ing Washington s interposition in his be 
 half, expresses his sense of the wrong he 
 has suffered by a self-complacent state 
 ment of his fastidious conscientiousness, 
 his sensibility to disgrace, and the claims 
 he has upon his country for his patriotic 
 services. " My commission," writes Ar 
 nold, " was conferred unsolicited, and re 
 ceived with pleasure only as a means of 
 serving my country. With equal pleas 
 ure I resign it, when I can no longer serve 
 my country with honor. The person who, 
 void of the nice feelings of honor, will 
 tamely condescend to give up his right, 
 and retain a commission at the expense 
 of his reputation, I hold as a disgrace to 
 the army, and unworthy of the glorious 
 cause in which we are engaged. When 
 I entered the service of my country, my 
 character was unimpeached. I have sac 
 rificed my interest, ease, and happiness, 
 in her cause. It is rather a misfortune, 
 than a fault, that my exertions have not 
 been crowned with success. I am con 
 scious of the rectitude of my intentions. 
 In justice, therefore, to my own charac 
 ter, and for the satisfaction of my friends, 
 I must request a court of inquiry into my 
 conduct ; and, though I sensibly feel the 
 ingratitude of my countrymen, yet every 
 personal injury shall be buried in my 
 zeal for the safety and happiness of my 
 country, in whose cause I have repeated 
 ly fought and bled, and am ready at all 
 times to risk my life." 
 
 Washington, who was fully conscious 
 of Arnold s ability, and had at that time 
 no reason to doubt the sincerity of his 
 professions of patriotism, was anxious to 
 place him in the position to which he was 
 thought to be entitled. The commander- 
 in-chief continued to solicit his friends in 
 Congress to repair the wrong supposed 
 to have been done to that officer, and re 
 quested General Greene, who was then 
 at Philadelphia, to investigate the causes 
 which had influenced their action. The 
 only satisfaction obtained was the pro 
 fessed motive, on the part of the mem 
 bers of Congress, of proportioning the 
 general officers to the number of troops 
 supplied by each state, and the explana 
 tion that, as Connecticut had already two 
 major-generals, it was necessary to pass 
 Arnold by. Washington, in answer to 
 Arnold s demand for a court of inquiry, 
 replied that he could not see upon what 
 ground he could ask it, as no particular 
 charge was alleged against him. Public 
 bodies are not amenable for their actions. 
 They place and displace at pleasure ; and 
 all the satisfaction that an individual can 
 obtain, when he is overlooked, is, if inno 
 cent, a consciousness that he has not de 
 served such treatment for his honest ex 
 ertions. 
 
 This was a kind of advice which came 
 naturally from the upright mind of the 
 commander-in-chief, but which was far 
 from calming the perturbed spirit of Ar 
 nold. The purest air of heaven will only 
 inllame an angry sore : an appeal to con 
 science gives no relief to a corrupt heart. 
 Arnold was obliged to give up all hopes 
 of a court of inquiry ; but he determined 
 
456 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 | PART II. 
 
 to visit headquarters, and obtain permis 
 sion from Washington to proceed to Phil 
 adelphia, and seek an investigation into 
 the cause of the treatment which had so 
 disappointed his ambition and stirred his 
 anger. 
 
 There were others besides Arnold who 
 had been wronged, as they supposed, by 
 being passed over in the recent appoint 
 ments by Congress. Washington strove to 
 soothe the wounded sensibilities of these 
 latter as he had those of the former. Brig 
 adier-General Andrew Lewis had reason 
 to expect promotion to a major-general 
 ship. He had been disappointed. Wash 
 ington writes to him: "Let me beseech 
 you to reflect that the period is now ar 
 rived when our most vigorous exertions 
 are wanted ; when it is highly and indis 
 pensably necessary for gentlemen of abil 
 ities in any line, but more especially in 
 the military, not to withhold themselves 
 from public employment, or suffer any 
 small punctilios to persuade them to re 
 tire from their country s service." Gen 
 eral Lewis, however, did not yield to this 
 patriotic appeal, but resigned his commis 
 sion, which was accepted by Congress. 
 Again, William Woodford, although pro 
 moted to the rank of brigadier-general, 
 was named after two of his juniors. In 
 this instance also, Washington, anticipa 
 ting a wound to Woodford s feelings, en 
 deavors to divert him from all personal 
 considerations, by invoking the generosi 
 ty of his patriotism. " Trifling punctil 
 ios," he says, " should have no influence 
 upon a man s conduct in such a cause, 
 and at such a time as this. If smaller 
 matters do not yield to greater, if trifles 
 
 Mar, 15, 
 
 light as air in comparison with what we 
 are contending for, can withdraw or with 
 hold gentlemen from service, when our 
 all is at stake, and a single cast of the die 
 may turn the tables, what are we to ex 
 pect ?" 
 
 A remarkable letter, written about this 
 time by Washington to General 
 Sullivan, shows the vexations to 
 which he must have been subjected by 
 the jealous rivalries and fancied slights 
 of some of the officers under his command. 
 " Do not, my dear General Sullivan," says 
 Washington, "torment yourself any long 
 er with imaginary slights, and involve 
 others in the perplexities you feel on that 
 score. No other officer of rank, in the 
 whole army, has so often conceived him 
 self neglected, slighted, and ill treated, as 
 you have done and none, I am sure, ha^ 
 had less cause than yourself to entertain 
 such ideas. Mere accidents, things which 
 have occurred in the common course of 
 service, have been considered by you as 
 designed affronts Why these unrea 
 sonable, these unjustifiable suspicions 
 suspicions which can answer no other end 
 than to poison your own happiness, and 
 add vexation to that of others ? But I 
 have not time to dwell upon a subject of 
 this kind. I shall quit it with an earnest 
 exhortation that you will not suffer your 
 self to be teased with evils that only ex 
 ist in the imagination, and with slights 
 that have no existence at all." Sullivan 
 was vain, and sensitive, as all vain men 
 are ; but, as he was a sincere patriot and 
 a faithful friend of Washington, it is not 
 doubted but that he took this severe les 
 son in good part, and benefited by it. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] SMALL-POX IN THE ARMY. ARMS FROM FRANCE. 
 
 Iii addition to these troubles on the 
 score of the officers, Washington was 
 much perturbed by the difficulties and 
 obstructions which interfered with the 
 recruiting of his new army. The spring 
 had already opened ; and yet such was the 
 delay in the enlistments, that Washing 
 ton expected to be left on the 15th of 
 March with only the remains of five Vir 
 ginia regiments, containing less than five 
 hundred men ; parts of two or three oth 
 er continental battalions, "all very weak;" 
 and some small parties of New-Jersey and 
 Pennsylvania militia, on which but little 
 dependence could be put, as they " come 
 
 and go when they please The enemy 
 
 must be ignorant of our numbers and sit 
 uation, or they would never suffer us to 
 remain unmolested, and," adds Washing 
 ton, " I almost tax myself with impru 
 dence in committing the secret to paper." 
 
 Nor were the recruits who came in so 
 slowly and in such scant numbers imme 
 diately available. The small-pox hither 
 to had created terrible ravages among the 
 American troops, and Washington was 
 determined to use the only means then 
 known to protect them from its fatality. 
 All the officers and soldiers in the can 
 tonment at Morristown were now inocu 
 lated, and each recruit as he came in was 
 subjected to the same operation. Whole 
 regiments were thus suffering under the 
 disease at the same moment. Fortunate 
 ly, little or no mortality ensued; and " the 
 disorder Avas so slight," says an annalist, 
 doubtless with some exaggeration, " that 
 from the beginning to the end of it there 
 was not a single day in which they could 
 not, and if called upon would not, have 
 
 turned out and fought the British." If 
 the inoculated had been able to take the 
 field, they could not have brought against 
 their enemy a more formidable powei 
 than the terrors of the dreadful disease 
 which presented its horrid front in the 
 American ranks. 
 
 When the new recruits presented them 
 selves, Washington was perplexed to find 
 means for equipping them. The old regi 
 ments, at the expiration of their term of 
 service, returned home, taking their arms 
 with them. How to provide the new ar 
 my was now the question, which was so 
 embarrassing, that all began to consider 
 it with dismay, when it was fortunately 
 
 */ / 
 
 solved by the arrival of a supply of arms 
 from France. One ship, escaping all the 
 vigilance of the British cruisers, had ar 
 rived at Portsmouth, in New Hampshire, 
 laden with a cargo consisting of twelve 
 thousand fusees, one thousand barrels of 
 powder, and a good stock of blankets and 
 military stores. Another French vessel 
 had reached Philadelphia in safety, with 
 six thousand fusees for the United States, 
 and five thousand for sale on private ac 
 count. The whole army could now be 
 equipped, and there was no longer any 
 anxiety on the score of arms. 
 
 Colonel Joseph Reed s resignation as 
 adjutant- general, although it was wel 
 comed by a large number of New -Eng 
 land men (with whom, in the course of 
 the sectional jealousies in the army, he 
 had incurred great unpopularity), was a 
 serious loss to the service, and a source 
 of perplexity to Washington. There was 
 difficulty in finding for that important 
 office a successor of equal efficiency with 
 
458 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 its former active incumbent. President 
 Hancock wrote to General Gates, propo 
 sing that he should atmin become the 
 
 o O 
 
 adjutant-general,, a position to which he 
 had been appointed on the organization 
 of the first American army. Gates s as 
 pirations had in the meanwhile risen to 
 a greater height. He evidently was not 
 flattered by Hancock s proposition. His 
 vexation was ill concealed beneath a pro 
 fession of willingness to serve, in a letter 
 which he wrote to Washington : " I own," 
 he writes, referring to the letter of the 
 president of Congress, " I was surprised 
 at the contents ; and the more so, as it 
 was not preceded by one on the same 
 subject from your excellency. Unless it 
 is vour earnest desire that such a meas- 
 
 */ 
 
 ure should directly take place, I could by 
 no means consent to it." 
 
 Washington wrote to General Gates in 
 answer : " Although I often wished in se 
 cret that you could be brought to resume 
 the office of adjutant-general,! never even 
 hinted it, because I thought it might be 
 disagreeable to you, for the reason which 
 you yourself mention that you com 
 manded last campaign at the second post 
 upon this continent and that therefore 
 it might be looked upon by you as a deg 
 radation. But you can not conceive the 
 pleasure I feel when you tell me that, if 
 it is my desire that you should resume 
 your former office, you will with cheer 
 fulness and alacrity proceed to Morris- 
 town. Give me leave to return you my 
 sincere thanks for this mark of your at 
 tention to a request of mine which, now 
 you give me an opening, I make, and at 
 the same time assure you that I look up- 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 on your resumption of the office of adju 
 tant-general as the only means of giving 
 form and regularity to our new army." 
 The frank and direct manner in which 
 Washington took Gates at his word might 
 have been supposed to greatly embarrass 
 that officer, who was not disposed to re 
 strain his ambition within the narrow 
 bounds of a subordinate position. The 
 timely appointment of the command of 
 the northern army at Ticonderoga, how 
 ever, relieved him from the apparent di 
 lemma in which his own professions, and 
 Washington s sincere belief in them, had 
 placed him. Still, there is reason to be 
 lieve that General Gates had anticipated 
 this means of escape from his unpleasant 
 situation, and that he was eagerly await 
 ing the command which he now received 
 when offering his services to Washington 
 in the humbler position. Timothy Pick 
 ering, of Massachusetts, became the new 
 adjutant-general. 
 
 Gates was indebted to the irascibility 
 of General Schuyler for his new appoint 
 ment. Schuyler had involved himself in 
 a quarrel with Congress. His enemies 
 had been industrious, and made various 
 charges against him. He insisted upon 
 resigning his commission, but Congress 
 would not accept his resignation. The 
 surgeon of his army, a Doctor Striger, had 
 been removed from his office; whereat 
 Schuyler is greatly angered, and writes 
 to Congress : " As Doctor Striger had my 
 recommendation to the office he had sus 
 tained, perhaps it was a compliment due 
 to me that I should have been advised of 
 the reason of his dismission." Colonel Jo 
 seph Trumbull had insinuated that Gen- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] SCIIUYLER AND TRUMBULL. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 459 
 
 eral Schuyler had suppressed a commis 
 sion intended for his brother, whereupon 
 the angry commander writes to Congress, 
 complaining of the base insinuation, and 
 says : " I hope Congress will not enter 
 tain the least idea that I can tamely sub 
 mit to such injurious treatment. I ex 
 pect they will immediately do what is in 
 cumbent on them on the occasion. Un 
 til Mr. Trumbull and I are upon a footing, 
 I can not do what the laws of honor and 
 a regard to my own reputation render 
 indispensably necessary. Congress can 
 put us on a par by dismissing one or the 
 other from the service." ::: Congress would 
 not gratify this pugnacious desire of the 
 general, whereupon he is vexed to ex 
 ceeding wrath, and tells them " I really 
 feel myself deeply chagrined on the oc 
 casion. I am incapable of the meanness 
 he [Colonel Trumbull] suspects me of; 
 and I confidently expected that Congress 
 would do me that justice which it was in 
 their power to give, and which I humbly 
 conceive they ought to have done." 
 
 For awhile Congress passed these com 
 munications over in silence, but finally 
 its offended dignity vindicated itself by a 
 resolution, in which certain passages in 
 Schuyler s letters were pronounced "ill 
 advised and highly indecent," and by the 
 appointment of Gates to supersede Schuy- 
 ler in the command of the northern army. 
 The latter, however, lost none of his ar 
 dor in behalf of his country s cause ; and, 
 as a major-general of the army, he con 
 tinued to serve with undiminished inter 
 est and energy. Stationed at Philadel 
 phia, he was busily engaged in fortifying 
 
 * Quoted by Irving. 
 
 the southern bank of the Delaware, and 
 in reorganizing the 3ommissary depart 
 ment. 
 
 Early in the spring, while Washington 
 was still at Morristown, young ALEXANDER 
 HAMILTON became one of his aids-de-camp, 
 and was received into what is technically 
 called his "family." General Greene, as 
 we have seen, had been early struck with 
 the skill of the youthful captain of artil 
 lery, and had spoken of him with admi 
 ration to the commander-in-chief. Wash 
 ington, too, at White Plains, and during 
 the perilous retreat through New Jer 
 sey, had noticed the art with which, in 
 the one instance, he had directed the con 
 struction of the works, and, in the other, 
 the daring and skill with which he had 
 brought his guns to bear upon the pur 
 suing enemy. Young as he was, being 
 only twenty years of age, Hamilton had 
 already become a marked man. He had 
 acquired a reputation as a writer, and 
 Washington gladly availed himself of his 
 fluent pen. Colonel Harrison (" the old 
 secretary," as he was always termed) be 
 ing now employed in other service, the 
 new aid-de-camp took his place. As the 
 commander-in-chief never allowed any 
 idlers about him, he took care that the 
 industry and capacity of his young sec 
 retary should be put thoroughly to the 
 test ; and that they were, and proved 
 equal to the trial, no one has ever doubt 
 ed. It was left, however, for an aspiring 
 descendant and biographer, not conten 
 with the greatness of his distinguished 
 parent, to claim for him that which be 
 longs to Washington himself 
 
 The two other members of the chief s 
 
460 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 military family at this time were Colonels 
 Meade and Tench Tilghman, both men of 
 gallant spirit and gentlemanly bearing. 
 Colonel Robert H. Harrison, the former 
 secretary, although frequently employed 
 in other service, was still a constant wri 
 ter at headquarters. He looked with ad 
 miration upon his youthful successor, 
 whom he styled " the little lion." Wash 
 ington himself is said to have often in 
 dulged in the fond expression of "my 
 
 boy" when speaking of Hamilton, to whom 
 he became warmly attached, and whose 
 great abilities and sterling integrity he 
 did not fail fully to appreciate. Hamil 
 ton is described at this time as " a youth, 
 a mere stripling, small, slender, almost 
 delicate in frame." His vivacity made 
 him the favorite companion of the young, 
 while his ripe intelligence and great in 
 tellectual powers won for him the regard 
 of the old. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 The Enemy in Canada. Ticonderoga or Philadelphia 1 Washington and Congress. General Howe suffers a Collapse 
 Grand Schemes. Disappointment. Pennsylvania now his Object. Invasion by Sea. Possible Co-operation in the 
 Future with Forces in Canada. Preparations of the Enemy for the Campaign. Howe tries his Strength. An Attack 
 upon Pcekskill proposed. A Ruse. Its Success. The British Fleet and Transports up the Hudson. The Landing. 
 Retirement of General M Dougall. The Enemy burn and destroy. They are checked by Willett. The Loss. 
 The Liveliness of the British in New Jersey. Boundbrook taken. General Lincoln makes good his Retreat. The 
 Expedition to Danhury. The People aroused to Arms. General Arnold to the Rescue. The Enemy reach Danhury. 
 The Militia march out as the British march in. Fire and Rapine. Revenge provoked. Terrible Result. Depart 
 ure of the Enemy from Danbury. They are attacked by the Provincials. Fall of General Wooster. Arnold in Dan 
 ger. He saves himself by a Timely Shot. Governor Tryon hurries away with the British. Harassed on the Route. 
 Embarkation. The Struggle and Loss. Life and Character of Wooster. Washington hopeful. 
 
 1777, 
 
 IT was thought probable that du 
 ring the winter, the British forces 
 in Canada, under Sir Guy Carleton and 
 General Burgoyne, taking advantage of 
 the frozen lakes, would make a vigorous 
 attack upon Ticonderoga. To provide 
 against it, the fifteen new battalions to 
 be supplied by Massachusetts were or 
 dered, as fast as they were raised, to be 
 forwarded to the North. The spring was 
 now opening, however ; the attack by the 
 British had not been made ; and it was 
 conjectured that, secure in the possession 
 of the lakes, the greater part of the ene 
 my s force would be drawn from Canada, 
 
 by the St. Lawrence, and that Ticonder 
 oga, at least for the present, would be dis 
 regarded. Washington and his general 
 officers were persuaded that the deter 
 mined resolution of the British was to 
 take possession of Philadelphia as soon as 
 the roads, after the spring thaw, became 
 passable for their artillery and wagons. 
 
 Washington considered it a waste of 
 power to send so many troops to Ticon 
 deroga, and acccordingly ordered eight 
 of the battalions originally intended for 
 that post to be sent to Peekskill, on the 
 Hudson river. A concentration of force 
 here would be advantageous, to give the 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE PLANS OF GENERAL HOWE. 
 
 461 
 
 required support to the army of the east 
 ern or middle states. Should the enemy 
 strive to penetrate the country up the 
 North river, the troops at Peekskill would 
 be well posted to resist them. Should 
 the British attempt to march into New 
 England, the troops at Peekskill would 
 be well stationed for opposition ; should 
 they move westward, the eastern and 
 southern forces would be enabled easily 
 to form a junction ; and, with a strong 
 American force so near as Peekskill, Sir 
 William Howe would be obliged to keep 
 a powerful garrison in New York, and 
 thus diminish his resources for active op 
 erations elsewhere. Even granting that 
 the army in Canada had designs against 
 Ticonderoga, the post at Peekskill would 
 not be disadvantageously situated for de 
 spatching reinforcements to the north. 
 
 Washington was convinced that the 
 army in Canada would be governed in a 
 great degree by the operation of General 
 Howe s, then in New Jersey. " If this is 
 held at bay, curbed and confined," he said, 
 " the northern army will not dare to pen 
 etrate." Washington would have great 
 ly wished to give Howe some " capital 
 stroke" in the early part of the season, 
 that he might open the campaign with 
 the eclat of a triumph. The aspirations 
 of Congress, however, greatly transcended 
 those of the coinmander-in-chief. They 
 eagerly desired that the enemy might be 
 confined in their present quarters, pre 
 vented from getting supplies from the 
 country, and totally subdued before they 
 Avere reinforced. " Could such grand ob 
 jects be accomplished, I should be happy 
 indeed," wrote Washington, in answer to 
 
 War, 14. 
 
 the impracticable and rather im 
 portunate suggestions of Con 
 gress. His whole force was but " a hand 
 ful," and the greater part of this was made 
 up of militia. Under such circumstances, 
 the commancler-in-chief felt it necessary 
 not only to curb his own heroic desires, 
 but to extinguish the brilliant expecta 
 tions of the national counsellors. " I con 
 fess, sir," writes Washington to President 
 Hancock, " I feel the most painful anxie 
 ty when I reflect on our situation and 
 that of the enemy. Unless the levies ar 
 rive soon, w r e must before long experi 
 ence some interesting and melancholy 
 event." 
 
 The swelling conceptions of General 
 Howe were also destined to a collapse. 
 He, while doing nothing during the long 
 winter, had consoled himself with the 
 hope of doing a great deal in the coming 
 summer and autumn. He had magnifi 
 cently resolved upon making an incur 
 sion into Rhode Island and Massachu 
 setts, taking Boston ; ascending the Hud 
 son river to Albany ; attacking Philadel 
 phia ; and invading Virginia ! This grand 
 scheme was concocted in the heat of his 
 success in New Jersey. The subsequent 
 defeat of the Hessians at Trenton, how 
 ever, somewhat clipped the wings of his 
 imagination, and confined its flights to 
 the single state of Pennsylvania, which 
 he proposed to reduce. He wanted, nev 
 ertheless, thirty thousand men to execute 
 what had been so brilliantly conceived. 
 These he was told by the prime minister 
 he could not get, and Sir William was 
 again forced to restrict still further his 
 designs. 
 
4G2 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT IT. 
 
 General Howe now gave up all hope 
 of making an attempt upon New Eng 
 land, or any important movement up the 
 North river. New Jersey being almost 
 wrested from his possession, he was fain to 
 change his purpose of marching through 
 that state in order to reduce Pennsylva 
 nia. The latter he now proposed to in 
 vade by sea. This was to be the main 
 object of the coming campaign. Gov 
 ernor Tryon, however, was to be left at 
 New York with three thousand provin 
 cial troops, in order that he might be pre 
 pared to act on the Hudson or against 
 Connecticut, as circumstances might di 
 rect. To Sir Guy Carleton, in Canada, 
 no hopes were held out of co-operation, 
 in the outset of the campaign, although 
 General Howe thought he would be able 
 to spare a sufficient force to open a com 
 munication through the Highlands on the 
 North river for the passage of the men- 
 of-war, and that these troops might co 
 operate with the British army in the 
 North. 
 
 These designs of the enemy, although 
 now fully known to the historian, could 
 only be conjectured or learned by the 
 Americans through the irregular and un 
 certain means of the spy or the deserter. 
 That the British troops were preparing 
 to move in some direction, was clear. At 
 the camp at Brunswick, they were very 
 busily employed in building a bridge, to be 
 supported by flat-boats, which were to be 
 transported by land on carriages. It was 
 inferred by the Americans that this bridge 
 was designed for crossing the Delaware, 
 and that the British commander intend 
 ed to march through New Jersey into 
 
 Pennsylvania; while the transports which 
 were getting ready at New T York should 
 bring troops thence by water to Philadel 
 phia, in order to co-operate with the main 
 body of the army, marched over land 
 from Brunswick. 
 
 General Howe,before opening the cam 
 paign, and bringing his whole army into 
 the field, inflicted several small blows, to 
 try, as it were, the temper of his troops, 
 and the powers of resistance of his an 
 tagonists. 
 
 General Heath, who was in command 
 of the American forces at Peekskill, had 
 obtained leave to visit his home in New 
 England. Being subsequently appointed 
 to the command of the garrison at Boston, 
 he did not retire. General M Dougall, as 
 his second, succeeded him, and was now 
 in command at Peekskill. 
 
 Howe, tempted by the large amount 
 of military stores and provisions collected 
 at Peekskill, devised a scheme for taking 
 or destroying them. To divert the Amer 
 icans from his real purpose, an American 
 officer, who was one of the prisoners ta 
 ken at Fort Washington, was allowed to 
 hear, with affected inadvertence, the con 
 versation of some British officers. The 
 American was then sent out with a fla^ 
 
 C5 
 
 to the outposts of General M Dongall, and 
 there left, with the understanding that he 
 had been exchanged. Getting among his 
 countrymen, and suspecting nothing of 
 the enemy s ruse, his first step was toward 
 headquarters, to report himself and give 
 all the information which he possessed. 
 Accordingly, he communicated to General 
 M Dougall all that he had gathered from 
 the conversation to which he supposed 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE BRITISH SUCCESS AT PEEKSKILL. 
 
 463 
 
 he had been unintentionally made a par 
 ty. The enemy, he said, talked of ma 
 king an incursion into Westchester conn- 
 
 O 
 
 ty, with the design of taking off the for 
 age. With this view, they were about 
 sending out three detachments : one to 
 proceed up Long-island sound to Mama- 
 roneck ; another by the Hudson to Tarry- 
 town ; and the third to go by land, by 
 way of Kingsbridge. 
 
 General M Dougall had only two hun 
 dred and fifty men, and could hardly ven 
 ture to oppose so formidable an invasion, 
 of which he had been thus fictitiously in 
 formed. He, however, did all he could : 
 he began to send away the stores which 
 were at Peekskill to Forts Montgomery 
 and Constitution, that they might be more 
 secure. While thus engaged, the 
 enemy made their appearance, 
 with ten sail, in the North river, off Tar 
 ry town; and, on the same evening, two 
 of the vessels advanced to within twelve 
 miles of Peekskill. By noon on the fol 
 lowing day, the whole fleet (con 
 sisting of the Boome frigate, two 
 ships and two brigs, three galleys and 
 four transports) rode at anchor in Peeks- 
 kill bay. In an hour s time, five hundred 
 men and four pieces of artillery, under 
 the command of Colonel Bird, w r ere land 
 ed at Lent s cove. 
 
 General M Douarall, finding the mini- 
 
 O / O 
 
 ber of the enemy double that of his own, 
 :lid not venture to oppose them, but re 
 treated to the hills behind the town 
 having, however, first set fire to some of 
 the storehouses situated by the river-side, 
 and sent orders to Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Marinus Willett to march with a detach- 
 
 Mar, 23, 
 
 ment of troops from Fort Constitution to 
 his aid. 
 
 The British were left undisturbed du 
 ring a whole day, when they secured some 
 of the stores, and burned the greater part, 
 as the only wharf at which they could be 
 shipped had been destroyed by the fire 
 ordered by M Dougall as he retreated. 
 In the meantime, Willett had come up 
 with his reinforcement, and finding that 
 a party of the British had the next morn 
 ing detached themselves from the main 
 body and taken possession of some high 
 ground near the town, he attacked them 
 with such spirit, that they were forced, 
 after a loss of nine killed and wounded, 
 to retire to their comrades in the town. 
 The whole British force, having accom 
 plished their purpose, now prepared to 
 embark, setting fire, as they went, to the 
 houses and the boats along the bay. Fa 
 vored by a moonlight night, they were 
 soon on board their transports, and sail 
 ing down the river. 
 
 " The loss of rum, molasses, flour, bis 
 cuit, pork, beef, wheat, oats, hay, tallow, 
 iron pots, camp-kettles, canteens, bowls, 
 nails, wagons and carts, barracks, store 
 houses, sloops and petticmgcrs laden with 
 provisons," says Gordon, " was very con 
 siderable, far beyond what was given out 
 by the Americans, though not of that im 
 portance and magnitude as to answer the 
 expectations of General Howe." 
 
 The enemy were evidently in a more 
 lively disposition for attack, and their at 
 tempts became more frequent. 
 They even showed a disposition 
 to disturb the Americans in New Jersey. 
 General Lincoln was posted with his di- 
 
 Vjnil 13, 
 
464 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 vision (in which there were only about 
 five hundred effective men) at Bound- 
 brook, who had to guard an extent of 
 five or six miles. Lord Cornwall! deter 
 mined to attack the post thus weakened. 
 Lincoln was not unexpectant of such a 
 manoeuvre, and had put his men on their 
 guard against a surprise. The patriots, 
 however, became neglectful ; and the en 
 emy, numbering about a thousand men, 
 led on by Lord Cornwallis and General 
 Grant, succeeded in crossing the Raritan, 
 a short distance above Lincoln s quarters, 
 and were not discovered until they had 
 advanced within two hundred yards of 
 the American lines. While these were 
 attempting to surround the general, two 
 thousand more British troops marched 
 along the banks of the Raritan to attack 
 the Americans in front. Lincoln barely 
 had a chance to escape, but succeeded, 
 together with one of his aids, in getting 
 off; but his other aid-de-camp, with all his 
 papers, fell into the hands of the enemy. 
 Lincoln immediately galloped to the front 
 of his troops, while Earl Cornwallis threw 
 a part of his force in the rear of their 
 right, and attempted to pass another de 
 tachment on their left, with the purpose 
 of surrounding and cutting off the retreat 
 of the Americans. Lincoln saw the de 
 sign, and, while these two detachments of 
 the enemy were closing and about to hem 
 him in, he with great promptness pushed 
 his force through the passage between 
 them, and thus effected his escape, with 
 the loss only of sixty killed and wound 
 ed. Cornwallis was left in possession of 
 Boundbrook ; but, after destroying score 
 
 */ o 
 
 of barrels of flour, a few casks of rum, and 
 
 some miscellaneous stores, he evacuated 
 the place. 
 
 Sir William Howe now struck another 
 preliminary blow against the Americans 
 Learning that D anbury, in Connecticut, 
 had been made the depot of a large quan 
 tity of stores, he fitted out an expedition 
 at New York to destroy them. Governor 
 Tryon was given the command, and with 
 him were associated General Agnew and 
 Sir William Erskine. Two thou 
 sand troops were detailed for the 
 service ; and, being embarked on board 
 twenty-six British men-of-war and trans 
 ports, the whole expedition sailed up 
 Long-island sound exciting by its for 
 midable appearance the greatest alarm 
 along the shores of Westchester and Con 
 necticut. As the fleet stood in toward 
 the villages of Norwalk and Fairfield, 
 the inhabitants hurried to their arms and 
 prepared for resistance. 
 
 The vessels having come to anchor, the 
 boats were lowered and the British troops 
 landed on the low shore which stretches 
 out from the base of the Compo hill, near 
 the mouth of the Saugatuck river. Try- 
 on, having planted his artillery, was en 
 abled soon to disperse the miscellaneous 
 throng of people which had gathered to 
 oppose him, and take up his march, al 
 though his men were severely galled here 
 and there by the American marksmen, 
 who as they retired fired upon their in 
 vaders from under cover of the woods 
 and stone-fences. The British, however, 
 pushed their way for seven miles into the 
 interior of the country, and halted for 
 the night. 
 
 General Silliman, of the Connecticut 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BRITISH ATROCITIES AT DANBURY. 
 
 46n 
 
 militia, who was at Fail-field, so soon as 
 he was aware of the landing of the ene 
 my, sent out expresses in every direction 
 to call the inhabitants to arms. Early 
 
 next morning, the militia, obe- 
 ApriI26, 
 
 dient to the summons, came in 
 
 to the number of five hundred men, and 
 Silliman marched them to Reading, in 
 pursuit of the enemy. It happened that 
 General Arnold, who was on his way from 
 Providence to Philadelphia, to lay before 
 Congress his complaints, was sojourning 
 with his friends at New Haven when the 
 intelligence arrived of the British inva 
 sion. Forgetting momentarily all his pri 
 vate troubles, his ardent spirit was roused 
 to active sympathy with the public cause. 
 He immediately mounted his horse, and, 
 joining General Wooster, who was also 
 at New Haven, rode with him in great 
 haste to overtake Silliman, some thirty 
 miles distant. Stirring up with their ar 
 dent appeals the people along the road, 
 Wooster and Arnold succeeded in bring 
 ing in with them, when they reached Sil 
 liman at Reading, over a hundred men. 
 The whole body now moved on toward 
 Danbury, which was known to be the ob 
 ject of the enemy, but halted within four 
 miles of that town, at Bethel, which they 
 did not reach until midnight, in conse 
 quence of the heavy rain. 
 
 The British, after their night- 
 halt, were on the march again 
 early the next morning, and proceeded 
 with such despatch, that, with the aid of 
 two native tories as guides, they reached 
 Danbury at two o clock in the afternoon. 
 The inhabitants were not aware of their 
 approach until some of the frightened 
 59 
 
 April 26, 
 
 country-people rode in with the intelli 
 gence that the enemy were but nine miles 
 off, and were coming with all speed. The 
 alarm was great in Danbury. Any at 
 tempt at resistance, with the scanty mi 
 litia force of only a hundred and fifty 
 men, which was the whole number in the 
 place, was felt to be useless. Those who 
 could leave, fled with their wives, chil 
 dren, and effects, to the woods and neigh 
 boring villages; for, with exaggerated 
 fears of the cruelty of the British, they 
 believed them capable of every outrage. 
 The small militia force made their way 
 out of Danbury at one extremity while 
 the enemy marched in at the other, and 
 succeeded in joining General Silliman at 
 Bethel. 
 
 The British, as soon as they entered 
 the town, began to destroy the public 
 stores, and made great havoc, turnin^ out 
 
 * O / O 
 
 of the episcopal church the barrels of flour 
 and pork with which it was crammed to 
 the galleries, and the contents of two oth 
 er buildings, and then burning them. In 
 this manner, eighteen hundred barrels of 
 pork and beef, seven hundred of flour, two 
 thousand bushels of wheat, rye, oats, and 
 Indian corn, clothing for a whole regi 
 ment, and seventeen hundred tents, the 
 greatest loss of all, were consumed. 
 
 Their object accomplished, the enemy 
 did not seem disposed to commit any fur 
 ther outrage. They were, however, pro 
 voked to an act of revenge by the sense 
 less conduct of four of the inhabitants, 
 who, well charged with liquor, and armed 
 with rifles, had posted themselves in one 
 of the houses, and commenced to fire up 
 on the troops. The British soldiers, thus 
 
466 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 irritated, rushed forward, and, seizing the 
 four men, thrust them into the cellar, and 
 burnt the house and the poor wretches 
 with it ! This was a signal for general 
 riot, and the troops began to break open 
 the casks of rum, and help themselves 
 freely to their contents. The whole force 
 was consequently in such a state of in 
 toxication that night, that the men could 
 have been readily mastered by the Amer 
 ican militia, few as they were. 
 
 Generals Silliman, Wooster, and Ar 
 nold, however, had deemed it imprudent, 
 with their small force, to risk an attack 
 upon the enemy while at Danbury : they 
 preferred to await their return, and try 
 to cut them off from their ships. They 
 soon had an opportunity of beginning op 
 erations. Tryon, finding that his men 
 were fast losing all sense of discipline in 
 their debauchery, and fearing that the 
 Americans (whom he knew to be at Beth 
 el) might come upon him in the midst of 
 disorder^ prudently determined to with 
 draw his troops from Danbury as soon as 
 the drunkards had partially slept off the 
 effects of their liquor, and the wearied 
 their fatigue. Before the morn 
 ing broke, therefore, Tryon be 
 gan his march, having first set fire to all 
 the buildings in the village, with the ex- 
 
 O O 
 
 ception of those which had been previ 
 ously marked with a cross, to indicate 
 that they were in possession of his tory 
 friends, and were to be spared. From the 
 contrast of the darkness of the lingering 
 dawn on that stormy morning, the blaze 
 of Danbury on fire was visible through 
 out a wide extent of the adjacent coun 
 try, and the inhabitants were inflamed to 
 
 April 27, 
 
 great indignation against these modern 
 Vandals. 
 
 As Governor Tryon was conscious that 
 the Americans would attempt to cut off 
 his retreat to his ships lying in the sound, 
 he took an indirect route, with the view 
 of giving the impression that he was about 
 returning to New York by land through 
 Westchester, the county bordering on 
 Connecticut. This led him to Ridgeway. 
 
 o / 
 
 The veteran Wooster, who, as senior in 
 rank, had taken the chief command of the 
 militia, on discovering this movement of 
 the enemy, sent Generals Arnold and Sil 
 liman, with four hundred men, to march 
 and post themselves in front of Tryon, in 
 order to oppose his advance, while he him 
 self, with two hundred, prepared to hang 
 upon his rear and do what he could to 
 harass it. Arnold arrived at Ridgefield 
 (which the enemy would be obliged to 
 pass, on their way to Cornpo) about ten 
 o clock, and took a position in a narrow 
 road where it entered the northern end 
 of the village. Here he hastly gathered 
 as many carts and logs as he could, and 
 built them up, with earth, into a barri 
 cade across the road, between a house on 
 one side and a ledge of rocks on the oth 
 er; and with his force now increased to 
 five hundred by the militiamen that lie 
 had picked up on his route, he awaited 
 the approach of the enemy. 
 
 As Tryon hurried on, General Wooster, 
 with his two hundred men, followed after, 
 and came up with the rear-guard of the 
 British within a few miles of Ridgefield. 
 The Americans succeeded in picking up 
 a score of stragglers, and then continued 
 to push on, when the enemy turned, and. 
 
RKVOLUTIONATCY.J 
 
 DEATH OF GENERAL WOOSTER. 
 
 467 
 
 planting their artillery, discharged a vol 
 ley of shot, which caused Wooster s little 
 band of militia to falter. The old gener 
 al, riding at their head, and full of spirit, 
 though a veteran of nearly seventy years, 
 strove to rally his troops, and cried out, 
 " Come on, my boys ! Never mind such 
 random shots !" At this moment a ball 
 struck him in the side, and he fell mor 
 tally wounded. His men gave up the 
 pursuit, and bore their dying general to 
 D anbury. 
 
 The enemy pushed on toward Ridge- 
 field, sending their flanking-parties out on 
 either side, and marching with their main 
 body in solid array direct for Arnold s bar 
 ricade. The Americans gave them a warm 
 reception as they came up ; but, as the 
 British gained the ledge of rocks on his 
 flank, and began to pour down upon his 
 little band volley after volley of musket 
 ry, Arnold was forced to order a retreat. 
 lie himself, with his usual dare-devil spir 
 it, was the last to leave the ground ; and, 
 when thus left in the rear of his men, he 
 became a prominent target for the fire of 
 the enemy. Just as he was turning his 
 horse to follow, a shot struck the animal, 
 which brought it down upon its knees. 
 While Arnold w r as still in the saddle, try 
 ing to get his foot out, which had got en 
 tangled in the stirrup, a Connecticut tory 
 rushed at him with his bayonet, crying 
 out 
 
 " Surrender ! you are my prisoner !" 
 " Not yet !" answered Arnold, who at 
 the moment, drawing a pistol from his 
 holster, shot the man dead ; and then, ex 
 tricating himself from his wounded horse, 
 he made for a swamp by the roadside and 
 
 April 28, 
 
 escaped, although followed by the bullets 
 of a whole platoon of the enemy. Tryon 
 now entered Ridgefield, and allowed his 
 troops, harassed by the day s hard work, 
 the rest of a night. 
 
 At dawn next day, the British, having 
 burnt four houses at Ridgefield, 
 w r ere again on the march, and 
 continued their route for Compo, through 
 Norwalk. The ever-active Arnold was OP 
 the alert. Again in the saddle, he had 
 rallied his scattered militia, and posted 
 them on the road leading to the bridge 
 across the Saugatuck river, prepared once 
 more to oppose Tryon s retreat; while at 
 the bridge itself he had stationed Colonel 
 Lamb and his corps, and planted three 
 fieldpieces, under Lieutenant-Colonel Os 
 wald. Tryon, finding his way thus op 
 posed, turned his column toward a ford 
 of the stream above, and ordered his men 
 to get across with all possible expedition 
 His object was, to anticipate the Ameri 
 cans before they could pass over and be 
 able to oppose his retreat. He partially 
 succeeded, but did not escape without a 
 severe struggle, as his rear came in col 
 lision with the van of his pursuers just 
 crossing the bridge. Colonel Hunting- 
 ton, too, posted on the other side, with 
 Wooster s men and the militia of Danbu- 
 ry, gave Tryon a good deal of annoyance 
 on his flank. 
 
 The enemy, however, pushed on, with 
 the whole body of the Americans close 
 after them. On reaching Compo, Tryon 
 took his position upon the hill, while the 
 Americans came to a halt and waited till 
 he should attempt to embark his troops, 
 when they hoped greatly to harass him. 
 
468 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [rART II. 
 
 Sir William Erskine, observing the dan 
 gerous position of Tryon, immediately 
 landed from the fleet lying off the shore 
 a large body of sailors and marines, who 
 drove back the pursuers, and thus suc 
 ceeded in covering the embarkation of 
 the whole British force, when the ships 
 set all sail and moved down the sound. 
 
 In the struggle, Arnold, as usual, was 
 foremost; and, although he himself es 
 caped, his horse was shot in the neck. 
 Colonel Lamb was dangerously wounded 
 by a grapeshot while directing his bat 
 tery, and gallantly standing his ground 
 among the last. 
 
 The British, although they had effected 
 their main purpose in the expedition, were 
 much the greater losers in men, having 
 lost in killed, wounded, and prisoners, at 
 least three hundred, while the loss of the 
 Americans was only one hundred. The 
 death of the veteran Wooster, which oc 
 curred at D anbury on the 2d of May, was 
 greatly regretted. Though sixty-seven 
 years of age when he fell, he had all the 
 spirit and gallantry of youth. 
 
 DAVID WOOSTER was one of the few lead 
 ing military men of his day who, when 
 the Revolutionary War began, brought 
 into the field a practical knowledge of tac 
 tics derived from experience. lie had 
 served in the French War, fought under 
 Sir William Pepperell at Louisburg, and 
 commanded with honor as a colonel and 
 subsequently a brigadier in the French 
 
 and Indian campaign of 1763. Taking 
 part with the revolutionists in 1775, he 
 was appointed, on the organization of the 
 continental army, the third in rank of 
 the eight brigadier-generals then chosen. 
 After a brief command in Canada in 1776, 
 he returned to his native state of Con 
 necticut, when he received the appoint 
 ment of major-general, the first in rank, 
 and thus became the chief in command 
 when Governor Tryon attacked Danbury. 
 His birth in Stratford, education at Yale 
 college, his marriage with the daughter 
 of the president of that institution, and 
 his devotion to the interests of Connecti 
 cut, had greatly endeared him to the peo 
 ple of that state. 
 
 On hearing of the result of the inva 
 sion by Tryon, Washington wrote : " I 
 regret our loss of stores at Danbury, and 
 the misfortunes of our brave men who 
 fell, and of those who were wounded. 
 However, from these latter events we de 
 rive this consolation, that the sentiments 
 of the people are still powerfully directed 
 to liberty, and that no impression of the 
 enemy, be it ever so sudden and unex 
 pected, will pass with impunity." Wash 
 ington was always confident in the up 
 rightness of the American cause, and nev 
 er despaired of its final triumph, w T hile 
 his countrymen remained true to it, how 
 ever they might be temporarily over 
 whelmed by the profuse resources of a 
 powerful enemy. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] GENERAL ARNOLD COMPLAINS TO CONGRESS. 
 
 469 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 General Arnold s Gallantry. Applause and Howards. Arnold made a Major-General. He is still dissatisfied. Seeks 
 Satisfaction from Congress. His Enemies and Friends. Arrival at Headquarters. Reception by Washington. Ho 
 is justified by tlie Board of War. Unfavorable Aspect of Arnold s Accounts. The Report of Congress intentionally 
 postponed Washington and the Foreign Officers. Rebuke to Monsieur Malmedy. Monsieur Colerus. Monsieur 
 Ducoudray. A Rebuke from Congress. The End of Monsieur Ducoudray. Colonel Conway. He is made a Major- 
 General. First Impressions. Koscinsko. "Try me." Appointed Aid-de-Camp by Washington. His Earlv Life. 
 French Engineers. "None but Natives." The Washington Guard. All Personal Aggrandizement sternly resist 
 ed. Description of the Camp and Headquarters at Morris town. General Wayne. Dinner at Washington s Table. 
 The Company. Alexander Hamilton. Innocent Gayety encouraged. Serious Thoughts. Anxieties. Peculation 
 The Provincial Attack on Sag Harbor. Meigs s Gallantry. Applauded by Washington. 
 
 1777, 
 
 GENERAL ARNOLD S gallantry was 
 highly applauded. Congress imme 
 diately raised him to the rank of a major- 
 general, and voted him the gift of a horse 
 " properly caparisoned, as a token of their 
 admiration of his gallant conduct in the 
 action against the enemy in their late en 
 terprise to Danbury, in which General Ar 
 nold had one horse shot under him and 
 another wounded." There was, however, 
 even in these honors conferred by Con 
 gress, an implied censure, which the irri 
 table temper of Arnold could not brook. 
 The date of his commission still kept him 
 below the five other major-generals whose 
 elevation had so greatly stirred his angry 
 spirit. Washington did his best to soothe 
 the chafed feelings of the man. Conscious 
 of his merits as a military officer, he gave 
 him the command of the important post 
 of guarding the North river at Peekskill. 
 Arnold was flattered by this tribute to his 
 worth, but was not appeased. He still 
 impetuously insisted upon an examina 
 tion into his conduct; and, declining for 
 the present the command at Peekskill, he 
 asked the permission of Washington to 
 
 go to Philadelphia and confront Congress 
 with a statement of his wrongs. 
 
 "I arn exceedingly unhappy," wrote 
 Arnold to Congress, " to find that, after 
 having made every sacrifice of fortune, 
 ease, and domestic happiness, to serve my 
 country, I am publicly impeached of a 
 catalogue of crimes, which, if true, ought 
 to subject me to disgrace, infamy, and the 
 just resentment of my countrymen. Con 
 scious of the rectitude of my intentions, 
 however I may have erred in judgment, 
 I must request the favor of Congress to 
 point out some mode by which my con 
 duct and that of my accusers may be in 
 quired into, and justice done to the inno 
 cent and injured." 
 
 If Arnold had bitter enemies in Con 
 gress, he also had strong friends. Among 
 the latter was Richard Henry Lee, of Vir 
 ginia, who warmly advocated his cause. 
 In regard to the charges so industriously 
 circulated against Arnold, Lee wrote: 
 " One plan now in frequent use is, to as 
 sassinate the characters of the friends of 
 America, in every place and by every 
 means ; at this moment they are reading 
 
470 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 L PART II. 
 
 May 12, 
 
 in Congress a bold and audacious attempt 
 of this kind against the brave General 
 Arnold." When Arnold presented him 
 self at headquarters at Morristown, on his 
 way to Philadelphia, Washington received 
 him with marked favor, and so far advo 
 cated his cause as to give him a letter to 
 Congress, in which Arnold s claim to be 
 
 O / 
 
 heard in his own vindication was urged. 
 Although Washington, with his usual re 
 serve, withholds all expression of opinion 
 in regard to a matter not within his own 
 sphere of observation, he does not hesi 
 tate to say of Arnold s military 
 character that " it is universally 
 known that he has always distinguished 
 himself as a judicious, brave officer, of 
 great activity, enterprise, and perseve 
 rance." 
 
 The board of war, to whom the charges 
 were referred, reported that they w r ere 
 entirely satisfied with Arnold s character 
 and conduct, which had been " so cruelly 
 and groundlessly aspersed." Congress 
 confirmed the report, but did not go fur 
 ther and elevate Arnold to that priority 
 of rank among the major-generals which 
 he claimed as his right, and desired more 
 than any unsubstantial testimonials of 
 character. Congress acted with apparent 
 inconsistency ; but it must be recollected 
 that, if all admired the military genius 
 and personal daring of Arnold, there were 
 also many who considered his moral char 
 acter at the best equivocal, the tenden 
 cies of which it behooved them to check. 
 There was now a test of character by 
 which Arnold was more severely tried. 
 His accounts were submitted to Congress, 
 and these not only presented the irregu 
 
 larity of outlay without vouchers, but ex 
 travagant expenditure in his own favor. 
 Arnold was known to have been a poor 
 man, and of no personal pecuniary credit ; 
 and, therefore, when he claimed an enor 
 mous balance for money spent from his 
 private purse, it was naturally inferred 
 that he was asking what was not his due. 
 His enemies openly declared that a fraud 
 was attempted, and his friends hesitated 
 to defend a man so obviously guilty. The 
 report of the committee was intentionally 
 delayed ; for Congress, in the emergency 
 of the country, did not care to be de 
 prived of the services of one to whom 
 none denied the possession of the highest 
 military qualities, though all deplored his 
 destitution of moral principle. 
 
 Washington was perplexed by the sen 
 sitiveness of his officers in regard to rank, 
 but particularly with that of the foreign 
 gentlemen who came to headquarters in 
 crowds, expecting to be provided for. " I 
 take the liberty," he writes to Richard 
 Henry Lee, "to ask you what Congress 
 expect I am to do with the many foreign 
 ers they have at different times promoted 
 to the rank of field-officers, and, by the 
 last resolve, two to that of colonels." 
 
 There was a Monsieur Malmedy, who 
 had, on the recommendation of General 
 Lee,received thecommission of brigadier- 
 general of the state of lihode Island. 1 le 
 was subsequently appointed a colonel in 
 the continental service. This appeared 
 to him such a descent in rank, that he was 
 dissatisfied, and so pestered Washington 
 with his complaints, that he was obliged 
 to write to him : " Though I wish not to 
 offend or wound, yet justice both to you 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] MONSIEUR DUCOUDRAY. THADDEUS KOSCIUSKO. 
 
 471 
 
 and myself requires that I should plainly 
 inform you that your scruples and diffi 
 culties, so often reiterated, and under a 
 variety of shapes, are exceedingly per 
 plexing to me, and that I wish them to 
 cease." 
 
 A certain Monsieur Golems, too, was 
 somewhat importunate in his demands ; 
 and Washington, having made a major of 
 him, lets him know that, if the appoint 
 ment does not satisfy, he has no other in 
 his power, and that if monsieur should 
 take "a calm and dispassionate view of 
 things," he would expect no more. 
 
 Then comes a Monsieur Ducoudray, 
 who had been promised by Silas Deane, 
 the American agent in Paris, the command 
 of the artillery, with the rank of major- 
 general. Washington, being well satisfied 
 with the gallant and able Knox, is not dis 
 posed to oust him, in order to make way 
 for the French gentleman, and says, more 
 over, that " it may be questioned, with 
 much propriety, whether so important a 
 command as that of the artillery should 
 be vested in any but a native, or one 
 attached by the ties of interest to these 
 states." It having been reported that 
 Ducoudray had been appointed a major- 
 general in the army, with the command 
 of the artillery, Generals Greene,Sullivan, 
 and Knox, were so indignant, that each 
 wrote a letter to Congress, desiring per 
 mission, if it were so, to resign at once. 
 Congress had not acted as was rumored ; 
 and, when that body received the letters 
 of the American generals,it rebuked them 
 for an attempt to inlluence its decisions. 
 Deane s treaty was not ratified, and Du 
 coudray was accepted only as a volunteer. 
 
 All further question about his rank was 
 settled, a few months after, by a mishap 
 which terminated his life. While crossino- 
 
 O 
 
 the Schuylkill in a flat-bottomed boat, his 
 horse, an unruly young mare, could not 
 be controlled by Ducoudray, and plunged 
 with him into the river, where he was 
 drowned. 
 
 A great difficulty with these French 
 officers was, their want of knowledge of 
 English. This objection could not be 
 urged against Colonel Conway, who was 
 an Irishman by birth, although an officer 
 in the French army. He was therefore 
 more readily provided for, and appointed 
 a brigadier-general. He had presented 
 himself to Washington, and seems to have 
 made a not unfavorable impression upon 
 him. " From what I can discover," says 
 the commander-in-chief, "he appears to 
 be a man of candor." We shall find that 
 in this, as in many other cases, first ap 
 pearances are often deceitful. 
 
 Though the feeling of Washington was 
 naturally more favorably disposed toward 
 his countrymen, who had everything at 
 stake, than toward foreigners, who were 
 for the most part merely military adven 
 turers, seeking either the pay of the mer 
 cenary or the satisfaction of a restless am 
 bition, he was ready to do justice to the 
 claims of the worthy, come from where 
 they might. Kosciusko, at the first in 
 terview, won Washington s confidence. 
 The noble Pole came to headquarters, 
 with no better title to consideration than 
 a host of others, soliciting employment 
 in the army. 
 
 " What do you seek here ?" inquired 
 Washington. 
 
472 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT II. 
 
 " I came to fight as a volunteer for 
 American independence," replied Kosci- 
 usko. 
 
 "What can you do?" 
 
 " Try me," was the brief response of 
 the Pole. Washington was pleased with 
 his frank and self-reliant bearing, and at 
 once made him one of his aids-de-camp. 
 
 THADDEUS KOSCIUSKO had been well ed 
 ucated at the military schools of his na 
 tive country and of France, and his scien 
 tific acquirements were soon made avail 
 able in the engineer department, in which 
 he chiefly served. Of his early life the 
 romantic story is told that, having eloped 
 with a young and beautiful girl of a no 
 ble family, he was overtaken by the fa 
 ther, who drew his sword and attempted 
 to wrest his daughter by violence. Kos- 
 ciusko, finding that he must either kill 
 the one or give up the other, saved the 
 father and lost the daughter. On his 
 departure for America, Doctor Franklin, 
 who had known him in Paris, commend 
 ed him by a letter to the notice of Wash 
 ington, and his own personal qualities ac 
 complished the rest. 
 
 Apart from those officers of note who 
 afterward fought in the American cause, 
 there was a number of engineers engaged 
 in France by Deane, in accordance with 
 an act of Congress. The services of these 
 were of the greatest importance, for the 
 country was naturally deficient in that 
 particular class of officers. 
 
 Washington at this time had not much 
 faith in foreign aid. " I profess myself," 
 he says, " to be of that class who never 
 built sanguinely upon the assistance of 
 France, further than her winking at our 
 
 supplies from thence for the benefits de 
 rived from our trade." His chief reliance 
 was upon his own country and his coun 
 trymen. In all places of trust he greatly 
 preferred Americans. When forming his 
 guard, he wrote to the four colonels from 
 whose regiments he was to receive the 
 men, " Send me none but natives." He 
 was, however, too discreet to offend the 
 sensibilities of the foreigners, and guards 
 
 o ? O 
 
 his officers against any intimation of his 
 preference of natives. 
 
 Washington was solicitous about this 
 guard. He desired that it should be com 
 posed of men of undoubted integrity, for 
 during the campaign his baggage, papers, 
 and other matters of great public import, 
 would probably be committed to their 
 sole care. Always mindful, too, of a good 
 soldierly effect, he wished that his guard 
 " should look well and be nearly of a size/ 
 and therefore ordered that the men should 
 neither exceed in stature five feet ten 
 inches nor fall short of five feet nine inch 
 es, and be " sober, young, active, and well 
 made." He wanted, he said, men of good 
 character, and those " that possess the 
 pride of appearing clean and soldierlike." 
 
 That this was not to gratify his own 
 personal pride, or to increase his individ 
 ual importance, was evident even at that 
 early period, for Washington had rebuked 
 with severity every tendency among his 
 officers and men toward worship of him 
 self, or any separate power or interest of 
 the state. Two of the new regiments had 
 been called " Congress s own" and " Gen 
 eral Washington s Life-Guards;" and Con 
 gress had, with a quick sensibility to the 
 danger of such distinctive appellations, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. 
 
 WASHINGTON S CAMP AT MORRISTOWN. 
 
 475 
 
 passed a resolve by which they were con 
 demned as improper, and ordered not to 
 be kept in use. Washington s fastidious 
 delicacy in the matter had, however, an 
 ticipated the action of that body. " I can 
 assure Congress," he says, " the appella 
 tion given to the regiments officered by 
 me was without my consent or privity. 
 As soon as I heard it, I wrote to several 
 of the officers in terms of severe repre 
 hension, and expressly charged them to 
 suppress the distinction." 
 
 We obtain a glimpse of the camp and 
 headquarters of Washington at Morris- 
 town, about this time, in the lively ac 
 count of a visit by Graydon, who during 
 the winter had been a prisoner in New 
 York and on Long island, and, having 
 been released on parole, was now on his 
 way to his native city of Philadelphia. 
 While Graydon and his companions were 
 rambling in a "coal-wagon" along the 
 road within a few miles of Morristown, 
 they met Washington on horseback, with 
 three or four attendants. He recognised 
 them, and after a salutation, a few words 
 of courteous congratulation on their re 
 lease from captivity, and saying he should 
 return to the camp in a few hours, where 
 he expected to see them, the general rode 
 on. Accordingly, in the evening, Gray 
 don and his friends went to pay their re 
 spects to Washington, at his marquee. 
 The chief topic of conversation was nat 
 urally the probable objects of Sir William 
 Howe in the coming campaign, and the 
 American commander requested to hear 
 from his visitors their opinion, as far as 
 they could give it consistently with their 
 parole. One of them answered that he 
 
 GO 
 
 thought a co-operation with the northern 
 army, by means of the Hudson river, was 
 General Howe s purpose. Washington, 
 however, although he allowed that indi 
 cations seemed to point in that direction, 
 w r as of the opinion that the enemy s ob 
 ject was Philadelphia. 
 
 Graydon spent two days in the camp at 
 Morristown. He found everybody about 
 headquarters in the most cheerful mood. 
 The appearance of the army did not, how 
 ever, seem to justify the good spirits of 
 the officers. " I had been," says Graydon. 
 " extremely anxious to see our army. 
 Here it was, but I could see nothing 
 which deserved the name. I was told, 
 indeed, that it was much weakened by 
 detachments ; and I was glad to find that 
 there was some cause for the present pau 
 city of soldiers." The brave and daring 
 General Wayne was apparently in a high 
 state of exhilaration, and, notwithstand 
 ing the drooping of his feathers, and his 
 faded appearance "in a dingy red coat, 
 with a black, rusty cravat, and tarnished 
 laced hat," he could yet crow exultingly. 
 " He entertained," says Graydon, " the 
 most sovereign contempt-for the enemy. 
 In his confident way, he affirmed that the 
 two armies had interchanged their orii>i- 
 
 O o 
 
 na.1 modes of warfare : that, for our part, 
 we had thrown away the shovel, and the 
 British had taken it up, as they dared not 
 face us without the cover of an intrench- 
 ment." The appearance of the soldiers 
 brought to mind the answer of a gentle 
 man when asked what was the uniform 
 of the army. " In general," he said, " it 
 is blue-and-buff, but by this time it must 
 be all bull" The period of " all bull " 
 
474 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPAKT 11. 
 
 seemed to be rapidly approaching, from 
 the " motley, shabby covering" of the sol 
 diers who, however, like the spirited 
 Wayne, had not, it is presumed, lost their 
 pluck with the tarnish of their regimen 
 tals. 
 
 There was apparently no want of so 
 cial enjoyment. Graydon was dined at 
 Washington s table, where there was a 
 large company, among which there were 
 several ladies, Mrs. Washington no doubt 
 among the rest, for she was at that time 
 at Morristown. Colonel Alexander Ham 
 ilton presided, " and he acquitted himself 
 with an ease, propriety, and vivacity," 
 says Graydon, " which gave me the most 
 favorable impression of his talents and ac 
 complishments." In the evening, escort 
 ed by Colonels Tilghman and Hamilton, 
 both aids of Washington, Graydon was 
 taken to " drink tea with some of the la 
 dies of the village," where a part of the 
 dinner-company was again assembled. 
 
 Washington, in fact, did all he could to 
 encourage the cheerfulness of both offi 
 cers and men. While, however, he pro 
 moted innocent pleasures, he was ever 
 mindful of the seriousness of the cause in 
 which he was engaged, and took care that 
 his army should not lose sight of the mor 
 al influence which it was expected to ex 
 ercise. In his instructions to the briga 
 dier-generals, Washington says: "Let vice 
 and immorality of every kind be discour 
 aged as much as possible in your brigade ; 
 and, as a chaplain is allowed to each regi 
 ment, see that the men regularly attend 
 
 O / 
 
 divine worship. Gaming of every kind 
 is expressly forbidden, as being the foun 
 dation of evil, and the cause of many a 
 
 brave and gallant officer s ruin. Games 
 of exercise for amusement may not only 
 be permitted, but encouraged." 
 
 There were, however, at this time, not 
 withstanding the mood of appa- 
 
 Aftril y,| t 
 
 rent cheerfulness in the Ameri 
 can camp, not a few sources of anxiety. 
 The remissness in the appointment of 
 general officers, the resignation of some 
 of them, the non-acceptance of others, 
 " and I might add," says Washington, " the 
 unfitness of a few, joined to the amazing 
 delay in assembling the troops, and the 
 abuses which I am satisfied have been 
 committed by the recruiting-officers, have 
 distressed me and the service exceeding 
 ly." To the slow recruiting was to be 
 added the further trouble of frequent de 
 sertions. The men were not regularly 
 paid, and were going off to the enemy. 
 where at least they were sure of their 
 wages ; and common soldiers are not, un 
 der such circumstances, very apt to dis 
 criminate between a good and a bad cause. 
 The military chest was nearly exhausted. 
 "But there is a cause," said Washington, 
 "which I fear will be found on examina 
 tion too true, and that is, that the officers 
 have drawn large sums, under pretence of 
 paying their men ; but have been obliged, 
 from extravagance and for other purposes, 
 to appropriate this money to their own 
 use." 
 
 With all these drawbacks, there were 
 not wanting sterling men in the army to 
 do their duty when called upon. The 
 bold and successful enterprise of Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Meigs gave such proof of 
 gallantly and ability as to encourage the 
 most despairing. The British had been 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 COLONEL MEIGS S EXPLOIT AT SAG HARBOR. 
 
 475 
 
 May 21, 
 
 Catherine* forage, strain, and other neces- 
 
 O O O 7 O / 
 
 saries for the army, which were deposited 
 in large quantities at Sag Harbor, on Long 
 island. General Parsons, having become 
 aware of the fact, proposed to make a de 
 scent and destroy the stores. Lieuten 
 ant-Colonel Meigs, a spirited officer, who 
 had served under Arnold in Canada, was 
 selected to conduct the enterprise. He 
 accordingly left New Haven with 
 two hundred and thirty-four men 
 in thirteen whale-boats and sailed to Guil- 
 ford. Here he was delayed, as the sound 
 was so rough, that he could not venture 
 to cross to Long island. On the 23d, how 
 ever, early in the afternoon, he embarked 
 one hundred and seventy of his men, and 
 sailed from Guilford, accompanied by two 
 armed sloops. On reaching Southold, in 
 the evening, where he expected to meet 
 some of the enemy, Meigs learned that 
 the troops had left the place two days 
 before and crossed over to New York. 
 He was informed, however, that at Sag 
 Harbor he would probably find a party. 
 Meigs accordingly made all haste to come 
 up with them. The distance was fifteen 
 miles, with a stretch of land, over which 
 the men were obliged to carry the whale- 
 boats, before reaching the bay which sep 
 arates the northern from the southern 
 branch of the island on which Sag Harbor 
 is situated. 
 
 At midnight, Meigs had reached, with 
 all his men, the opposite side of the bay, 
 about four miles from Sag Harbor. Here 
 he secured his boats in a neighboring 
 
 April 24, 
 
 wood, and, leaving a party to guard them, 
 marched on with the remainder of his 
 force. At two o clock in the morning, he 
 arrived at the place, and at once 
 began the attack. The guards 
 having been bayoneted, Meigs led his men 
 to the wharf, and commenced the work 
 of destruction. An armed schooner of 
 twelve guns, lying off some hundred and 
 fifty yards or so, opened a fire,Avhich was 
 continued uninterruptedly for three quar 
 ters of an hour, but without the least ef 
 fect. 
 
 Colonel Meigs never ceased till his pur 
 pose was fully accomplished, and only 
 departed after he had destroyed twelve 
 brigs and sloops, one of which was an 
 armed vessel of twelve guns, a hundred 
 and twenty tons of pressed hay, a con 
 siderable amount of corn and oats, ten 
 hogsheads of rum, and a large quantity 
 of merchandise. Moreover, after having 
 killed six of the enemy, he brought off 
 ninety prisoners, while he had not a man 
 killed or even wounded. Meigs with all 
 his men was back again at Guilford as 
 early as two o clock on the same after- 
 ternoon, having been absent only twenty- 
 five hours, during which time a distance 
 of ninety miles of land and water had 
 been traversed. Meigs s gallantry was 
 publicly acknowledged by General Wash 
 ington, and rewarded by Congress with 
 the vote of a sword, as a token of their 
 sense of the " prudence, activity, enter 
 prise, and valor," with which he had con 
 ducted the enterprise. 
 
47G 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIL 
 
 The Enemy s Bridge. Washington anxious about the North River. Generals Greene and Knox sent to inspect the Forts 
 on the Hudson. Report in f;ivor of Additional Strength, Chains, and Obstructions. General Putnam despatched to 
 superintend the Works. Old Put" in Full Activity. Secret Expedition against the British at Kingsbridge. Wash 
 ington shifts his Encampment to Middlebrook. His Plans. Sir William Howe on the Move Prospect of Action. 
 Provincials guard the Delaware. Heady for the Enemy. Howe apparently changes his Plans, and makes a New 
 Move. Washington on the Alert to harass Him. Greene and Magaw attack the British Rear. Howe at Amboy. 
 He crosses with his Whole Force to Staten Island. All New Jersey in Possession of the Americans. Great Stir in 
 the Bay of New York. A Junction of Howe with Burgoyne in the North conjectured. Preparations to prevent it. 
 Washington moves toward the Hudson. Washington at Pompton. Affairs at the North. General Schuyler rein 
 stated in his Command. General Gates offended. He seeks Redress from Congress. Is rebuked for insulting the 
 House. General St. Clair at Ticonderoga. Is Burgoyne coming ? Washington s Opinion. 
 
 1777, 
 
 THE designs of the British were 
 not yet clearly revealed, but it was 
 believed that Philadelphia was their main 
 object. They were still busy at work on 
 the bridge ; and Washington was so fully 
 persuaded that it was to be used when 
 finished to cross the Delaware, that he 
 ordered the exact breadth of the river 
 for a considerable distance to be obtained, 
 in order to compare it with the length 
 of the bridge, a knowledge of which he 
 hoped to acquire through his spies, and 
 thus discover the part of the stream in 
 tended to be traversed. 
 
 It was, however, believed that General 
 Howe would also make an effort to secure 
 the North river ; and Washington was ac 
 cordingly very anxious to resist any at 
 tempt in that direction. The British had 
 anchored several transports at Dobbs s 
 ferry on the Hudson, with the purpose, 
 it was conjectured, of diverting the atten 
 tion of Washington from their movements 
 toward the Delaware. It was possible, 
 moreover, that they might attempt from 
 Brunswick to make an incursion into the 
 
 country back of Morristown, in order to 
 seize the passes through the mountains; 
 and thus try to cut off the communica 
 tion of the American army with the North 
 river. The general-in-chief accordingly 
 urged General M Dougall, at Peekskill, to 
 be on the alert, and George Clinton (re 
 cently appointed a brigadier-general) to 
 post as large a body of troops in the pas 
 ses of the Highlands as he could spare 
 from the forts which he commanded on 
 the Hudson. 
 
 Major- General Greene and General 
 Knox, tw r o of his officers in whose capa 
 city and fidelity Washington had great 
 trust, were sent by him to examine into 
 the state of the defences on the Hudson 
 and at the Highland passes. They pro 
 ceeded to Peekskill, and, meeting there 
 
 7s O 
 
 with Generals M Dougall, Clinton, and 
 Wayne, the five officers began their in 
 vestigations. They inferred that the pas 
 ses through the Highlands were so " ex 
 ceedingly difficult," that the British would 
 not attempt to operate by land, provided 
 the river was effectually obstructed. For 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] CHANGE OF THE AMERICAN ENCAMPMENT. 
 
 477 
 
 this purpose, they recommended in their 
 report to Washington that a boom, or chain 
 should be stretched across the river at 
 Fort Montgomery, with one or two iron 
 cables in front to break the force of any 
 vessel should it attempt to pass the bar 
 rier. These, with two armed ships and 
 two row galleys stationed above, ready 
 to fire upon the approach of the enemy, 
 were believed to be sufficient to defeat 
 any efforts they might make to sail up. 
 
 Washington approved of the views of 
 Greene and his associates, and immedi 
 ately sent the vigorous and laborious 
 Putnam to superintend the work, while 
 Congress was urged to supply without 
 delay the necessary means. That body 
 was advised by the commander-in-chief 
 to purchase the iron cables at Philadel 
 phia, as they could not be procured else 
 where, and which, as they were to be laid 
 diagonally across the river of five hun 
 dred and forty yards in breadth, should 
 not be less than four hundred and fifty 
 fathoms long, and of the " largest size that 
 can be had." 
 
 In the meantime, while Congress was 
 deliberating about the cables, Old Put s 
 ingenuity was put to the task in fixing a 
 boom. Presuming upon his exhaustless 
 activity, other work was also provided for 
 the veteran general. Washington pro 
 posed that he should get up a secret ex 
 pedition against the British at Kings- 
 bridge, on the upper end of the island of 
 New York. Two plans were suggested. 
 A number of troops might be embarked 
 in boats, under pretence of transporting 
 them and their baggage across the river 
 to Tappan, as if to join Washington s ar 
 
 my in New Jersey. To give this purpose 
 the appearance of greater plausibility, a 
 number of wagons might be got ready at 
 the landing on the Jersey side, as if wait 
 ing for the baggage. If this plan did not 
 suit, there was the other of embarking 
 the troops at Peekskill, under pretence 
 of reinforcing the garrison on the Hud 
 son, in order to expedite the works, and 
 to set off as bound thither ; and then, un 
 der the cover of the night, to turn and 
 push down the river. The place proposed 
 for the landing of the troops was the hol 
 low between Fort Washington and Spuy- 
 ten-Devil creek. Here was a good spot 
 to land upon, and a passage into the road 
 leading from the fort to Kingsbridge : this 
 route, being deeply hidden, would enable 
 Putnam to fall in upon the back of the 
 British troops at Fort Independence, by 
 which their surprise would be greater, 
 and their retreat cut off " Thence," says 
 Washington, in his instructions, "your 
 troops might, or might not, march up by 
 land, and sweep the country before them 
 of the enemy and provisions, as circum 
 stances might justify." 
 
 Washington, now that his army was 
 somewhat reinforced, determined to shift 
 his encampment. His troops, however, 
 even at this time, hardly num 
 bered eight thousand, as most of 
 the regiments were greatly scant of their 
 full complement of men. :;: Forty-three 
 regiments (those of New Jersey, Pennsyl 
 vania, Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia, 
 together with Colonel Hazen s) composed 
 the army in New Jersey, under the im 
 mediate orders of the commander-in-chief. 
 
 * Sparks, 
 
 May 28, 
 
478 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT II. 
 
 These were divided into ten brigades, un 
 der Brigadier-Generals Muhlenberg, Wee- 
 don, Woodford, Scott, Small wood, Wayne, 
 Deborre, De Haas, Conway, and Maxwell. 
 The divisions were five, of two brigades 
 each, under Major-Generals Greene, Stir 
 ling, Sullivan, Stephen, and Lincoln: Gen 
 eral Knox commanded the artillery. The 
 New-York and New-England troops were 
 chiefly at Ticonderoga, under Generals 
 Gates and St. Glair; and at Peekskill, un 
 der Generals Putnam, M Dougall, and Clin 
 ton. 
 
 The new position taken by Washing 
 ton was a strong one on the high ground 
 about Middlebrook, and several miles near 
 er than Morristown to the main body of 
 the enemy at Brunswick. There was no 
 attempt on the part of the British to op 
 pose this movement, beyond sending out 
 a body of light-horse, which, after skir 
 mishing with the advance-guard, retired 
 on finding a large detachment of the 
 American army coming forward. Wash 
 ington s purpose was to oppose the march 
 of General Howe to the banks of the Del 
 aware, which it was thought to be his de 
 sign to cross on the way to Philadelphia. 
 The American chief, however, was not 
 sanguine of his power to check the ene 
 my, in consequence of the meagerness of 
 his force. " If," says he, " some 
 effectual mode is not devised to 
 fill the regiments, it is impossible, at least 
 very unlikely, that any effectual opposi 
 tion can be given to the British army 
 w itli the troops we have, whose numbers 
 diminish more by desertion than they in 
 crease by enlistments." 
 
 (general llowe finally began to move. 
 
 Reinforced from New York and 
 
 June 13. 
 
 Rhode Island, he commenced his 
 march in the evening, and in the course 
 of the night his front had reached Som 
 erset courthouse, where it halted, while 
 his rear remained at Brunswick. It ap 
 peared to be his intention to push direct 
 ly for the Delaware, although Washington 
 did not know whether it was a real move 
 toward Philadelphia or an endeavor to 
 draw the Americans from the heights 
 
 o 
 
 which they occupied along the whole 
 front of the enemy. Howe s only object, 
 as we now know, was to brino; Washin<>-- 
 
 O O 
 
 ton to a general action, for he had deter 
 mined to attack Philadelphia by sea. His 
 plans then, however, could only be con 
 jectured by the Americans, and they pre 
 pared to act in accordance with their sur 
 mises. 
 
 As the prospect of action approached, 
 the militia began to turn out in a more 
 spirited manner; and they, together with 
 the continental troops, seemed determined 
 to harass and oppose the enemy " upon 
 their march through the country." Gen 
 eral Howe would have great difficulty, 
 thought Washington, in crossing the Del 
 aware. Arnold (who had been ordered 
 from Philadelphia) and Mifllin would be 
 ready with a considerable force to meet 
 him on the western side of the river, while 
 Washington s army on the opposite bank 
 would " hang heavily on his rear." The 
 American troops were withdrawn from 
 Peekskill, with the exception of a thou 
 sand men, who were supposed sufficient 
 (now that the enemy had diminished their 
 force by their drafts for New Jersey) to 
 prevent any surprise from New York. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 MOVEMENTS OF GENERAL HOWE. 
 
 479 
 
 The hostile armies now confronted each 
 other, mutually expectant. 
 
 The main body of the Americans was 
 encamped upon the high ground at Mid- 
 dlebrook, while a considerable force un 
 der General Sullivan was posted on the 
 lowland hills. The position at Middle- 
 brook was naturally very strong, but was 
 further strengthened by works. The pas 
 ses in the mountains were too difficult to 
 be attempted ; and, although the right of 
 the army was not so well defended, two 
 or three redoubts were all that were ne 
 cessary to secure it effectually. The en 
 emy were also strongly posted. Well for 
 tified on their right, with the river Rari- 
 tan all along their front and the Millstone 
 creek on their left, they were in a situa 
 tion where an attack upon them was not 
 warranted by a sufficient prospect of suc 
 cess, and might " be attended with the 
 most ruinous consequences." Under these 
 circumstances, Washington determined to 
 collect all the force at Middlebrook that 
 could be properly withdrawn from other 
 quarters, so as to bring the security of 
 his army to the greatest possible certain 
 ty, and be ready to take advantage of any 
 fair opportunity of attack which might 
 offer. In the meantime, he would send 
 out light bodies of militia (accompanied 
 by a few continental troops to keep them 
 in countenance by their more soldierly 
 bearing), to harass and weaken the enemy 
 by frequent skirmishes. 
 
 Whatever might be the ulterior pur 
 pose of the British, it was conjectured by 
 Washington that their first object was to 
 destroy his army, and then get possession 
 of Philadelphia. The risk would be too 
 
 great for the enemy to attempt to cross 
 the Delaware, when they must expect to 
 meet a formidable opposition in front, and 
 have the whole American army in their 
 rear. " They might possibly be success 
 ful," writes Washington, " but the proba 
 bility would be infinitely against them. 
 Should they be imprudent enough to do 
 it, I shall keep close upon their heels, and 
 do everything in my power to make the 
 project fatal to them." The British gen 
 eral, however, had apparently no design 
 upon the Delaware at that time, or he 
 would have made a secret, rapid march 
 for it, and not have come out openly, and 
 as light as possible, leaving all his bag 
 gage, provisions, boats, and bridges, at 
 Brunswick. From the position he had 
 taken, his purpose was, more probably, to 
 prepare for an attack upon Washington s 
 right, which was the weakest point. But 
 whatever might be General Howe s ob 
 ject, the people were in a high state of 
 animation, and apparently ready for the 
 enemy. 
 
 Howe soon made another change, that 
 gave rise to much speculation at head 
 quarters. After having moved his main 
 body from Brunswick, and extended his 
 van to Somerset courthouse, encamping 
 between these two posts, and beginning 
 a line of redoubts, he suddenly marched 
 
 back his whole army to the for- 
 
 . u. i June 19, 
 
 irier place, burning the houses 
 
 and devastating the country along his 
 route. Washington at this time was con 
 stantly in the saddle, reconnoitring and 
 sending out his light-troops to hover as 
 near as possible about the enemy, who, 
 however, secured as they were on their 
 
480 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 June 22, 
 
 Hanks by the Raritan and Millstone riv 
 ers, had no great difficulty in reaching 
 their former posts. 
 
 In three days more, the Brit 
 ish camp was again all astir night 
 and day. A movement was evidently in 
 prospect. Washington accordingly sent 
 an express to General Maxwell to lie be 
 low Brunswick and Amboy, in order to 
 intercept any British parties which might 
 be passing ; and detached three brigades, 
 under Major-General Greene, to fall upon 
 the enemy s rear as soon as they should 
 move ; while the main body of the army 
 was paraded upon the heights of Middle- 
 brook, to support Greene if there should 
 be occasion. 
 
 Sir William Howe began his march, 
 and the Americans were on the alert to 
 harass him. A party of Colonel Morgan s 
 light-infantry pushed forward betimes and 
 drove in the Hessian picket before the sun 
 was up ; while the rest of Morgan s regi 
 ment and General Wayne s brigade fol 
 lowed rapidly, and posted themselves op 
 posite to Brunswick. The enemy, how 
 ever, crossed the bridge, and took posses 
 sion of the redoubts which they had con 
 structed on the north side of the river. 
 General Greene, now advancing his troops 
 briskly toward them, they quitted their 
 position and retired by the road to Am 
 boy, with Morgan and his riflemen close 
 at their heels, keeping up a sharp fire, 
 which " did considerable execution." 
 
 Greene continued to pursue the enemy 
 as far as Piscataway, but finding it impos 
 sible to overtake them, and fearful lest 
 he might be drawn away too far from the 
 main body, he returned to Brunswick, 
 
 reporting with great praise the conduct 
 and bravery of General Wayne and Colo 
 nel Morgan, and of their officers and men, 
 who constantly advanced upon an enemy 
 far superior to them in numbers, and well 
 secured behind strong redoubts. General 
 Maxwell, unfortunately, missed the ex 
 press messenger, who had by accident or 
 design fallen into the hands of the Brit 
 ish ; otherwise their rear-guard, as they 
 themselves confessed, would have been 
 cut off Maxwell was now reinforced by 
 Lord Stirling and his division. 
 
 General Howe, on reaching Amboy, de 
 spatched some of his troops across to 
 Staten island ; but he soon brought them 
 back, and advanced to ward Westfield with 
 his whole army. Washington liad moved 
 the entire American force to Quibble town, 
 
 in order to be nearer the enemy 
 
 <v +1 4.- r-n June 24, 
 
 after their evacuation of Bruns 
 wick, and ordered Lord Stirling to move 
 his division still closer to Howe s lines. 
 When the enemy began apparently to re 
 turn, with the purpose of turning the 
 American left, Washington marched his 
 main army back to the secure position at 
 Middlebrook, but continued to hang up 
 on the British flank with a body of light- 
 troops and Morgan s riflemen. After some 
 slight skirmishing, General Howe again 
 withdrew, plundering and burning all be 
 fore him, to Amboy, and finally passed 
 over to Staten island with his en 
 tire army, using the bridge which 
 had been so laboriously constructed at 
 Brunswick for the purpose of transport 
 ing his artillery and baggage. The Amer 
 icans were thus left in complete posses 
 sion of New Jersey. The next move of 
 
 / 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] SCHUYLER REINSTATED IN HIS COMMAND. 
 
 481 
 
 the enemy was now the object of anxious 
 speculation. 
 
 A great stir among the shipping in 
 New- York bay, the general striking of 
 the tents, and the marching of the troops 
 from that part of Staten island opposite 
 to Amboy to the other side, in the neigh 
 borhood of the anchorage of the fleet, 
 made it apparent that General Howe had 
 in contemplation some movement by wa 
 ter. At this time, intelligence was re 
 ceived from General St. Clair, command 
 ing at Ticonderoga, that the British army 
 in Canada evidently had designs upon 
 that fort. It was thence inferred that 
 Howe s purpose might be to push imme 
 diately up the Hudson, in order to co 
 operate with the British troops marching 
 from the North. In case this should be 
 the enemy s design, Washington prompt 
 ly ordered General Putnam, at Peekskill, 
 to reinforce St. Clair with a portion of his 
 eastern troops ; but, while Howe s object 
 was not clearly manifest, he was in great 
 uncertainty how to direct his main body. 
 His situation was " truly delicate and per 
 plexing." Should he march his army to 
 Peekskill, leaving the British commander 
 on Staten island, there would be nothing 
 to prevent his crossing to South Amboy, 
 and pushing thence to Philadelphia,. On 
 the other hand, if the North river and 
 the possession of the Highlands should 
 be General Howe s object, the keeping 
 of the army in New Jersey would give 
 the enemy the opportunity of effecting 
 their purpose without resistance in that 
 quarter. " We shall attempt in this di 
 lemma," says Washington, " to do the best 
 we can." In the meanwhile, he wrote to 
 Gl 
 
 July 11. 
 
 Generals Putnam and George Clinton, ur 
 ging them to put forth every exertion in 
 their power, and instantly to call out a 
 " respectable" body of militia to aid in the 
 defence of the important posts on the 
 North river. Washington also advanced 
 a division of his army, under General Sul 
 livan, to Pompton, in order to be nearer 
 the enemy should they attempt to ascend 
 the Hudson. 
 
 Further intelligence from the North 
 induced Washington to believe that the 
 possession of the Hudson and the commu 
 nication with Canada, by which the east- 
 ern and southern states might be sepa 
 rated, was probably the intention of the 
 enemy ; and he therefore moved 
 his whole force to Morristown, 
 and thence to Pompton, from which place 
 he prepared to march still farther toward 
 the Hudson. Let us now for a moment 
 glance at the condition of affairs at the 
 North. 
 
 General Gates, as we have seen, had su 
 perseded General Schuyler in the com 
 mand of the northern army, but had only 
 served from the 25th of March, when on 
 the 22d of May he was obliged to give it 
 up. Schuyler had obtained from Congress 
 the investigation which he had sought so 
 pertinaciously, and was rewarded for his 
 perseverance by a reinstatement in his 
 command; not, however, before he had ad 
 dressed a memorial to Congress, in which 
 an apologetic explanation was made of 
 the expressions in his former letter which 
 had given so much offence. New Eng 
 land resisted Schuyler s appointment to 
 the last, and it was only secured by the 
 absence of some of the delegates from 
 
482 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 that quarter. It was, however, generally 
 conceded that his influence in the state 
 of New York rendered him the most ef 
 fective man for the position. 
 
 Gates was greatly vexed at the result, 
 and. refusing to serve under Schuyler, 
 who offered him the command at Ticon- 
 deroga, requested permission to proceed 
 to Philadelphia. Here he arrived, and so 
 lost all self-control, that he presented him 
 self on the floor of Congress, and began 
 to indulge in some personal reflections on 
 one of the members, which excited the 
 indignation of the house, and, after a noi 
 sy debate, led to a request that he would 
 withdraw. There was a great deal of 
 partisan feeling exhibited in the discus 
 sion of the relative commands of Schuy 
 ler and Gates, and the reinstatement of 
 the former was considered to be a triumph 
 of what was then termed the New- York 
 party over that of New England. 
 
 As soon as Schuyler reached Albany 
 from Philadelphia (where he had been 
 stationed during the interval of his loss 
 of the northern command), he ordered 
 General St. Clair to Ticonderoga. 
 Both Schuyler and St. Clair be 
 lieved that the enemy were preparing to 
 come in great force from Canada by way 
 of the lakes. A British spy, one Ames- 
 bury, had been taken and examined, who 
 stated that the main body of the Canadi 
 an army was advancing by St. Johns, and 
 that a detachment of English, Canadians, 
 and Indians, was about penetrating to the 
 south by the Mohawk river. Apart from 
 the information which he was to gather, 
 Amesbury was intrusted with a canteen 
 by a Judge Levins, of Canada, with direc- 
 
 June 5, 
 
 tions to deliver it to General Sullivan, 
 and request him to remove a false bot 
 tom, within which he would find a letter. 
 The canteen was obtained by Schuyler, 
 the concealed letter found directed as had 
 been stated by the spy, and at once for 
 warded, through the commander-in-chief. 
 It proved to be an appeal to General Sul 
 livan to betray the American cause. It 
 is needless to say that against this subtle 
 exhortation that officer was patriotically 
 proof. 
 
 This information of the probable ad 
 vance of the Canadian army by way of 
 the lakes took Washington by surprise. 
 as he, together with his chief officers and 
 Congress, had entertained the opinion 
 that the British troops at the North would 
 have come round by the St. Lawrence 
 and the sea, to reinforce General Howe 
 at New York. Ticonderoga had conse 
 quently been neglected, and frequent de 
 mands for reinforcements of the American 
 strength at Albany and beyond not re 
 sponded to. 
 
 Washington had, moreover, received 
 exaggerated accounts of the force at the 
 command of Schuyler and St. Clair. Even 
 as late as the 2d of July, he says : " I .see 
 no reason for apprehending that it [Ticon 
 deroga] can possibly fall into the hands 
 of the enemy in a short time." He was 
 still perplexed about the designs of his 
 antagonists. " If a co-operation is intend 
 ed," he writes to Schuyler, General Howe 
 must speedily throw off the mask, and 
 make his preparations for going up the 
 North river ; if he does not, I shall think 
 that the fleet and a small force of Indians 
 and light-troops are amusing you upon 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 JOHN BURGOYNE. 
 
 483 
 
 the hike, while the main body comes round 
 and forms a junction by water. One rea 
 son operates strongly against this, in my 
 opinion, and that is, a man of General 
 
 Burgoyne s spirit and enterprise would 
 never have returned from England mere 
 ly to execute a plan from which no great 
 credit or honor was to be derived." 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 vjeneral Burgoyne. His Life and Character. His Parliamentary Career. His Dramatic Works. His Military Career. 
 Horace Walpole s Estimate of Him. Commandcr-in-Chief of the British Forces in Canada. Plan of the Campaign. 
 Sir Guy Carleton s Magnanimity. A Sufferer for his Humanity. Estimate of Burgoyne s Force. His Officers. 
 Beginning of the Campaign. Burgoyne meets the Indians in Council. Swollen Rhetoric. Pompous Proclamation. 
 General Schuyler at Ticonderoga. He strengthens the Fortifications. Goes to Albany. Sends Stores and Men. He 
 is sanguine about the Security of Ticonderoga. Washington entertains the Same Opinion. General St Clair in 
 Command of the Fort. The Defences. The Weak Points. Wasted Energies. 
 
 1777, 
 
 GENERAL BURGOYNE is now about 
 to act a more important part in the 
 American War ; and we shall here, as we 
 meet him for the first time in the capaci 
 ty of a commander-in-chief, give some ac 
 count of his life and character. This was 
 his third visit to America. He had served 
 in Boston, under Governor Gage ; in Can 
 ada, under Sir Guy Carleton; and had 
 recently, after visiting England, returned 
 to take command of the British forces in 
 the North. 
 
 The time and place of the birth of JOHN 
 BURGOYNE a man who rose to no mean 
 celebrity as a writer, a senator, and a mil 
 itary oilicer are unknown. Even his 
 parentage has not been ascertained with 
 certainty, although he is generally sup 
 posed to have been the natural son of 
 Lord Bingley, who died an old man in 
 1774. He was probably early destined 
 for a military life. There is, however, no 
 record of the dates of his grades in the 
 army until 1758, when he was raised to 
 
 the rank of lieutenantrcolonel. lie dis 
 tinguished himself in Portugal, where he 
 was a comrade of the eccentric Charles 
 Lee, who, under the orders of Burgoyne, 
 swam the Tagus at the head of three 
 hundred and fifty British soldiers, and 
 surprised the Spanish camp. After the 
 campaign in Portugal, Burgoyne was re 
 warded with a colonelcy. 
 
 In 1761, he was elected a member of 
 Parliament for Midhurst, a position for 
 which he was no doubt indebted to some 
 powerful patronage through his putative 
 relationship to Lord Bingley. In 1768, 
 Burgoyne was again returned to Parlia 
 ment for the borough of Preston ; and 
 his election drew upon him the brilliant 
 invective of " Junius," who, considering 
 him a satellite of the duke of Grafton 
 treated him with the same unsparing se 
 verity. Burgoyne was now appointed 
 governor of Fort William, and in 1772 
 raised to the rank of general. As a mem 
 ber of Parliament he began to take a 
 
484 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPAKT n 
 
 prominent share in its debates. In 1772, 
 he took the lend in denouncing the cor 
 rupt conduct of the officials of the East- 
 India Company, and introduced with a 
 brilliant and effective speech the motion 
 that a committee be appointed to "in 
 quire into the nature, state, and condi 
 tion of the East-India Company, and of 
 the British affairs in the East Indies." 
 The committee having been appointed, 
 Burgoyne as its chairman was frequently 
 called upon to defend the conduct and 
 measures of himself and his colleagues, 
 and never failed to do it with great tact 
 and power. 
 
 While a dashing young subaltern, Bur 
 goyne made the acquaintance of a daugh 
 ter of the earl of Derby. The two be 
 came deeply enamored, and were married 
 clandestinely, greatly to the indignation 
 of his lordship of Derby, who declared 
 that he would never admit them to his 
 presence. Burgoyne, however, with his 
 brilliant, promise as a soldier, and a rising 
 man in Parliament, aided by his gentle 
 manly tact, soon reconciled the earl of 
 Derby to the alliance. With this recog 
 nised relationship, we find Burgoyne, in 
 1774, acting as master of ceremonies in 
 the fete given at the seat of the family, 
 " The Oaks," to celebrate the marriage 
 of his brother-in-law, Lord Stanley, with 
 Lady Betsey Hamilton, the daughter of 
 the duke of Hamilton. It was on this 
 occasion that Burgoyne first publicly dis 
 played his talents as a dramatist. He 
 wrote a " dramatic entertainment, in five 
 acts," styled The Maid of the Oaks," which 
 was played at the marriage-festival, and 
 afterward successfully brought out (un 
 
 der the auspices, and with some touches 
 of the pen, of Garrick) at Drury Lane. 
 The pen was, however, soon dropped for 
 the sword, and it was not until after his 
 several campaigns in America that he re 
 newed his literary pursuits. He then 
 wrote " The Lord of the Manor" a comic 
 opera in three acts a light, sparkling 
 piece, which was acted, and welcomed 
 with much applause. Writing verse with 
 facility, he contributed two lively, satiri 
 cal compositions, " The Westminster Guide " 
 and a "Probationary Ode" to one of the 
 cleverest political jeu d csprits of the day. 
 In 1786, he brought out on the stage the 
 comedy of " The Heiress" and, soon after, 
 the historical drama of "Richard Occur de 
 Lion" In all these, Burgoyne exhibits a 
 knowledge of society and the world, a 
 quick fancy, and a flexible hand. Ilia 
 temper was gay, and his disposition so 
 cial. He loved pleasure, but was active 
 in business. A thorough soldier, he never 
 failed to do his duty, though he always 
 strove to soften the severities of war by 
 acts of generosity and humanity, to which 
 his natural kindliness of heart prompted 
 him. Horace Walpole says of him smart- 
 ingly, that he had " a half-understanding 
 that was worse than none ;" that he was 
 "a classic scholar who had more reading 
 than parts ;" that he " was fond of writing, 
 and did not want eloquence, but judg 
 ment extremely ;" and, again, that he was 
 " the most verbose and bombastic boaster 
 that ever bore a truncheon," though " he 
 did not want spirit, not knowledge, not 
 any zeal for serving his master." 
 
 We have seen Burgoyne at Boston, and 
 subsequently in Canada ; and now, for the 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] GENERAL BURGOYNE BEGINS HIS MARCH. 
 
 485 
 
 third time, we find him in America as 
 commander-in-chief of the British troops 
 at the North. This appointment had been 
 conferred upon him by the British gov 
 ernment in order to carry out the pro 
 posed plan of penetrating toward Albany 
 from Canada, and thus form a junction 
 with a portion of Sir William Howe s ar 
 my which was to advance up the Hudson, 
 that the American communication might 
 be cut off between the northern and east 
 ern states. Burgoyne, when consulted, 
 had declared that a force of eight thou 
 sand regulars, two thousand Canadians, 
 and one thousand Indians, would be ne 
 cessary to secure the success of the plan. 
 On arriving in Canada, General Bur 
 goyne met with some disappointment in 
 filling up the complement of his army, 
 but was able, however, to commence op 
 erations with an effective force. Sir Guy 
 Carleton had been superseded, and might 
 have justly complained of neglect, and 
 want of acknowledgment of his previous 
 services; but, waiving all personal feel 
 ing, he magnanimously welcomed Bur 
 goyne with great friendliness, and ear 
 nestly aided him in executing his plans. 
 Carleton, in character with his usual be 
 nevolence, is supposed to have objected 
 to the employment of the Indians, and 
 therefore been supplanted by Burgoyne, 
 who had fewer scruples on this point. 
 Carleton sent his resignation to England 
 as governor of Canada, but in the mean 
 time tendered his services to the newly- 
 appointed commander-in-chief; and, with 
 his knowledge of and influence in the 
 country, he proved of great advantage. 
 By his means the Indian tribes were con 
 
 ciliated, and the native Canadians induced 
 to remain faithful to British interests. 
 
 Burgoyne s European force amounted 
 to seven thousand men, of whom nearly 
 one half were hired mercenaries from the 
 principality of Brunswick, in Germany. 
 To these were added four hundred Indi 
 ans and about a hundred and fifty Cana 
 dians. His artillery corps and train were 
 of the most serviceable character, " prob 
 ably the finest and the most excellently 
 supplied as to officers and private men 
 that had ever been allotted to second the 
 operations of any army." His officers 
 were men of great repute for skill and 
 daring. General Phillips commanded the 
 artillery ; Generals Fraser, Hamilton, and 
 Powell, the various British divisions ; and 
 Baron Reidesel and General Specht, the 
 B runs wickers. 
 
 Having first detached Colonel St. Leger 
 from St. Johns with a miscellaneous force, 
 consisting of British, Germans, Sir John 
 Johnson s New -York tory confederates, 
 and savages (amounting in all to about 
 eight hundred), in order to make a diver 
 sion on the Mohawk river, Bur- 
 
 1 If .I K- JUUC 14 
 
 goyne himself set out with his 
 force. After proceeding some distance, 
 he encamped his army at the river Bou 
 quet, on the western side of Lake Cham- 
 plain, near Crown Point. Here he met 
 the Indians in council, and gave them a 
 war-feast. Burgoyne was naturally soli 
 citous about the conduct of his savage al- 
 
 o 
 
 lies, and took care to impress upon them 
 the humane requirements of civilized war 
 fare. They were told that they should 
 only kill those who opposed them in arms; 
 that old men and women, children and 
 
486 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 prisoners, the wounded and the dying, 
 should be spared the hatchet; and that 
 none but those who had been slain in bat 
 tle should be scalped. Burgoyne prom 
 ised them rewards for prisoners, but de 
 clared that he would call them to strict 
 account for every scalp they brought in. 
 
 Having swollen his rhetoric, in his ad 
 dress to the savages, in accordance with 
 the supposed requirements of Indian ora 
 tory, Burgoyne, it would seem, found it 
 difficult to bring his imagination within 
 its ordinary range ; for the proclamation 
 which he immediately afterward issued 
 to the people of the country was full of 
 pompous declamation. There was some 
 thing in it, however, worse than its style. 
 It held out the threat of savage cruelty. 
 " I have," said he, " but to give stretch to 
 the Indian forces under my direction, and 
 they amount to thousands, to overtake 
 the hardened enemies of Great Britain 
 and America. I consider them the same, 
 wherever they may lurk." 
 
 Soon after sending St. Clair to Ticon 
 deroga. General Schuyler him- 
 IIIIIP 17 
 
 self went to examine into the 
 
 condition of affairs there. They did not 
 ippear as satisfactory as he had antici 
 pated. Instead of the force of five thou 
 sand, which Washington supposed to be 
 the strength of the garrison at this post, 
 it was found that there were less than 
 twenty-five hundred effective men in all, 
 to defend both the works at Ticonderoga, 
 on the west side of the lake, and Mount 
 Independence, on the east. Such a mea 
 ger supply of troops, it was clear, was 
 quite inadequate to defend the two posts. 
 Without reinforcements, in case of an at 
 
 tack from the enemy, one or the other 
 would have to be abandoned. In such 
 an event, Mount Independence was con 
 sidered as the post at which it would be 
 desirable to concentrate all the available 
 force. Attention was accordingly direct 
 ed chiefly to this point. All the cannon 
 and stores, not immediately wanted on 
 the Ticonderoga side, were taken over; 
 and Kosciusko, who was the engineer-in- 
 chief of the northern army, at once com 
 menced repairing the old and adding new 
 works, in order to strengthen the by-no- 
 means strong fortifications of Mount In 
 dependence. There was such a deficiency 
 of provisions, that it was inferred that the 
 garrison, unless soon supplied, would not 
 be able to hold out for many days. With 
 all these drawbacks, it was still thought 
 
 O 
 
 advisable to obtain reinforcements and 
 supplies, and to maintain the two posts 
 as long as possible. It was deemed pru 
 dent, however, to collect and repair the 
 batteaux, in case a retreat should become 
 necessary. 
 
 General Schuyler, thus made aware of 
 the weaknesses and wants of Ticondero 
 ga, hastened back to Fort George, and 
 so bestirred himself, that he was soon able 
 to send a good supply of provisions, and 
 some working-men to aid in the construc 
 tion of the works. He seemed, however, 
 to be in very little anxiety about the post, 
 for he writes to Congress : " I trust we 
 shall still be able to put everythm< % in 
 
 J O 
 
 such order as to give the enemy a good 
 reception, and, I hope, a repulse, should 
 they attempt a real attack, which I con 
 jecture will not be soon, if at all."* 
 
 * Irvinjr. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 DEFENCES OF TIGONDEROGA. 
 
 487 
 
 July 1, 
 
 Washington, too, from the information 
 ho had obtained, which was unaccounta 
 bly inexact, continued to believe that Ti- 
 conderoga was beyond the chance of dan 
 ger. "As the garrison at Ticonderoga," 
 he writes to Schuyler, " is sufficient to 
 hold it against any attack, I do not think 
 it politic, under your representation of the 
 scarcity of provisions, to send up troops 
 to consume what oiiiHit to be thrown into 
 
 O 
 
 the fort." He soon received intelligence 
 which placed it beyond any chance of 
 doubt, that Burgoyne was advancing; 
 but he was still confident of St. Glair s 
 security until the last moment, when a 
 letter from Schuyler appears to 
 have conveyed for the first time 
 a truthful account of the condition of Ti 
 conderoga. Washington thereupon im 
 mediately ordered General Putnam to de 
 spatch a brigade, under Nixon, to rein 
 force the northern army. 
 
 Schuyler, in the meantime, was divert 
 ing himself with the idea that Burgoyne 
 would march his main body from St. Fran 
 c-is or St. Johns to the east and invade 
 New England. " I am," he writes, " the 
 more continued in this conjecture, as the 
 enemy can not be ignorant how very dif 
 ficult, if not impossible, it will be for them 
 to penetrate to Albany, unless in losing 
 Ticonderoga we should lose not only all 
 our cannon, but most of the army de 
 signed for this [the northern] depart 
 ment." 
 
 St. Glair, even at Ticonderoga, w r as for 
 a long time in a state of uncertainty about 
 the strength and designs of the enemy. 
 In the meanwhile he kept his men busily 
 occupied in increasing the defences of the 
 
 place. There were not wanting some 
 among the officers who were doubtful of 
 the policy of holding the post. The gar 
 rison were so few in numbers, and the la 
 bors of all so much increased by the works 
 and the strong guards necessary on the 
 threatened approach of the enemy, that 
 the men became prostrated by fatigue and 
 watching. " If fortitude," wrote an officer 
 at that time, "if enterprise, if perseve 
 rance or temerity, could avail, I would 
 not complain ; but, in the name of Heav 
 en, what can be expected from a naked, 
 undisciplined, badly-armed, unaccoutred 
 body of men, when opposed to a vast su 
 periority of British troops?" 
 
 The American lines were greatly ex 
 tended, from Mount Independence, on the 
 east side of Lake Champlain, to Ticon 
 deroga on the west. The two places were 
 connected by a floating bridge, supported 
 on twenty-two sunken piers of very large 
 timber, and the spaces between filled with 
 separate floats, each about fifty feet long 
 and twelve wide, strongly fastened to 
 gether by iron chains and rivets. On the 
 northern side of this bridge was stretched 
 a boom made of large timber, well secured 
 by riveted bolts, and a double iron chain, 
 with links of one and a half inches square. 
 The length of this combined bridge, boom, 
 and chain, w r as four hundred yards, and 
 its construction had cost an immensity 
 of labor and expense. The work was sup 
 posed, however, to be admirably adapted 
 to the double purpose of a communication 
 between Ticonderoga and Mount Inde 
 pendence, and of an impenetrable barrier 
 to any approach of the enemy by way 
 of the lake. 
 
4S8 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 There were two hills which command 
 ed the works : one cnlled Mount Hope, 
 rising about half a mile in advance of the 
 old French lines on the Ticonderoga or 
 west side of the lake; and another, known 
 as the Sugar-Loaf hill, or Mount Defiance. 
 Mount Hope was the least important of 
 the two hills, as it only commanded the 
 left of the works at Ticonderoga, and was 
 unprotected, probably in consequence of 
 the meagerness of St. Glair s force, which, 
 composed of less than three thousand 
 men of whom nine hundred were raw 
 militia, but just come in was not suffi 
 cient, when the troops were ordered to 
 man the lines, to occupy their whole ex 
 tent. 
 
 The S n gar-Loaf hill was, however, en 
 tirely neglected, from the prevalent im 
 pression that it was inaccessible for artil 
 lery, and too distant, even if in possession 
 of an enemy, for their balls to reach the 
 fort. This hill, which is the northern ter 
 mination of the mountairi-ridffe dividing 
 
 O o 
 
 Lake George from Lake Champlain, rises 
 precipitously to a height of six hundred 
 feet, and completely commanded both the 
 works at Ticonderoga, from which it was 
 only separated by the outlet from Lake 
 George, and those at Mount Independ 
 ence, from which it was divided by the 
 narrowest part of Lake Champlain. A 
 year before, John Trumbull (then Gen 
 eral Gates s adjutant at Ticonderoga, and 
 subsequently the well-known painter) had 
 been impressed with the importance of 
 guarding the Sugar-Loaf hill. " I had for 
 some time," he says, "regarded this emi 
 nence as completely overruling our en 
 tire position. It was said, indeed, to be 
 
 at too great a distance to be dangerous ; 
 but by repeated observations I had satis 
 fied my mind that the distance was by 
 no means so great as was generally sup 
 posed : and at length, at the table of Gen 
 eral Gates, where the principal officers of 
 the army were present, I ventured to ad 
 vance the new and heretical opinion that 
 our position was bad and untenable, as 
 being overlooked in all its parts by this 
 hill. I was ridiculed for advancing such 
 an extravagant idea. I persisted, how 
 ever ; and, as the truth could not be as 
 certained by argument, by theory, or by 
 ridicule, I requested and obtained the 
 general s permission to ascertain it by 
 experiment. 
 
 " General (then Major) Stevens was bu 
 sy at the north point of Mount Indepen 
 dence in examining and proving cannon. 
 I went over to him on the following morn 
 ing, and selected a long, double-fortified 
 French brass gun (a twelve -pounder), 
 which was loaded with the proof-charge of 
 best powder, and double shotted. When 
 I desired him to elevate this gun so that 
 it should point at the summit of Mount 
 Defiance (Sugar-Loaf hill), he looked sur 
 prised, and gave his opinion that the shot 
 would not cross the lake. That is what 
 I wish to ascertain, major, was my an 
 swer. I believe they will ; and you will 
 direct your men to look sharp, and we, 
 too, will keep a good lookout. If the shot 
 drop in the lake, their splash will be easi 
 ly seen ; if, as I expect, they reach the hill, 
 we shall know it by the dust of the im 
 pression which they will make upon its 
 rocky face. 
 
 " The gun was fired, and the shot was 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE BRITISH APPROACH TICONDEROGA. 
 
 489 
 
 plainly seen to strike at more than half 
 
 the height of the hill. I returned to head- 
 
 ~ 
 
 quarters, and made my triumphant re 
 port, and after dinner requested the gen 
 eral and officers who were with him to 
 walk out upon the glacis of the old French 
 fort, where I had ordered a common six- 
 pound field-gun to be placed in readiness. 
 This was, in their presence, loaded with 
 the ordinary charge, pointed at the top 
 of the hill, and when fired it was seen 
 that the shot struck near the summit. 
 
 " Thus, the truth of the new doctrine 
 was demonstrated but still it was insist 
 ed upon that this summit was inaccessible 
 to an enemy. This also I denied, and 
 again resorted to experiment. General 
 Arnold, Colonel Wayne, and several oth 
 er active officers, accompanied me in the 
 
 general s barge, which landed us at the 
 foot of the hill, where it was most pre 
 cipitous and rocky, and we clambered to 
 the summit in a short time. The ascen 
 n as difficult and laborious, but not imprac 
 ticable ; and when we looked down upon 
 the outlet of Lake George, it was obvious 
 to all that there could be no difficulty in 
 driving up a loaded carriage." 
 
 Notwithstanding this demonstration of 
 the importance of Mount Defiance a year 
 before, no regard was paid toward secu 
 ring it; and the engineers and the dispir 
 ited troops went on wasting their ener 
 gies in ceaseless labors upon works which 
 alone were useless for defence, unless the 
 enemy should be equally heedless, and 
 dash their force against them in an as 
 sault. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 Stealthy Approach of the Enemy. General St. Clair in Despair. The Beginning of the Attack. A Hasty and Ineffect 
 ual Fire. A Jolly Hibernian. St. Clair hopeful of an Assault. General Burgoyne discovers the Weak Point. He 
 takes possession of Sugar-Loaf Hill. St. Clair calls a Council of War. A Retreat determined upon. The Night s 
 Silent March. The Enemy aroused. The Scene described. The Provincials escape to Skenesborough. They are 
 overtaken by Burgoyne. Burning of Galleys and Batteaux. The Struggle on Land. " The Indians at our Heels." 
 The Fight at Fort Anne. Disasters and Adventures of the Fugitives. The Lost St. Clair. His Wanderings. 
 The Success of the British at Hubbardtown. Unsuccessful Attempt of St. Clair to aid the Discomfited Provincials 
 St. Clair turns up in Vermont. A Royal Conqueror. 
 
 1777, 
 
 THE occasional si^ht of the Indi 
 
 an warriors at the American out 
 posts (some of General Burgoyne s savage 
 allies), as they were prowling about the 
 adjacent forests, indicated the approach 
 of the enemy. General St. Clair, however, 
 was yet in ignorance of their force and 
 All his efforts to obtain infor- 
 62 
 
 designs. 
 
 mation had been in vain. Although the 
 heights of Ticonderoga afforded an ex 
 tended view of the country, the approach 
 es were concealed by mountain headlands 
 and dense woods. Reconnoitring-parties 
 were sent out, but they were either cut 
 up, captured, or driven in, by the Indian 
 scouts of the enemy. 
 
490 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Burgoyne s force, however, was reveal 
 ing itself more clearly from day to day. 
 On the 30th of June, a part of his fleet 
 had sailed up the lake from Crown Point, 
 and troops debarked on the west side, 
 within three miles and in full view of Ti- 
 conderoga. Another detachment, com 
 posed of Indians and Canadians, had land 
 ed on the opposite side, and, falling in 
 with an American scouting-party,attacked 
 and put it to the rout. St. Clair was anx 
 ious, but yet, as he was ignorant of the 
 strength and purpose of the enemy, un 
 decided upon what he should do. Per 
 fectly aware, however, of the weakness 
 of his own position, St. Clair wrote to Gen 
 eral Schuyler : " Should the enemy invest 
 and blockade us, we are infallibly ruined ; 
 we shall be obliged to abandon this side 
 [theTiconderoga side], and then they will 
 soon force the other from us, nor do I see 
 that a retreat will in any shape be prac 
 ticable. Everything, however, shall be 
 done that is practicable to frustrate the 
 enemy s designs ; but what can be expect 
 ed from troops ill armed, naked, and un- 
 accoutred ?" lie was in hopes, notwith 
 standing, that Burgoyne s force was too 
 small for an investment of the posts on 
 both sides of the lake, and that he would 
 attempt an assault, in which case St. Clair 
 encouraged himself with the belief that, 
 by withdrawing all his troops within the 
 works at Mount Independence, a success 
 ful resistance might possibly be made. 
 
 Burgoyne s whole army now 
 
 began to move from Crown Point. 
 
 On the western shore the British came 
 
 marching forward, and on the left the 
 
 German troops, while the fleet sailed up 
 
 the lake in advance. The British imme 
 diately and without resistance took pos 
 session of Mount Hope, which command 
 ed the left of the works at Ticonderoga. 
 Desiring to possess themselves of another 
 piece of rising ground in advance, within 
 only a thousand yards of the American 
 lines, they sent forward Captain Frazer, 
 with a detachment of riflemen and sev 
 eral hundred Indians, to clear the way. 
 They came on so audaciously, that they 
 ventured to attack an American picket 
 of sixty men, within two hundred yards 
 of a battery of eight guns, and, having 
 dispersed this outguard, approached to 
 within less than a hundred yards of the 
 main work, where, scattering themselves 
 along the front among the brushwood, 
 they kept up a brisk fire. 
 
 General St. Clair, who had consoled 
 himself with the hope of an assault, be 
 lieved that it was now about to take 
 place, and that the detachment which had 
 approached so boldly had been sent for 
 ward to draw his iire and create disorder, 
 preliminary to the general attack, lie 
 accordingly ordered his troops to sit down 
 on the banquet, with their backs to the 
 parapet, to cover them from the shot of 
 the enemy, and to prevent their throw 
 ing away their own fire. One of the o Ul 
 cers at this moment, as he leaned on the 
 parapet, observed a British light-infantry 
 man, who, having crept within forty paces 
 of the ditch, and taken a position on his 
 knees behind a stump, was loading and 
 firing. "I stepped," says Wilkinson (for 
 he was the ollicer, and gives the account 
 of the incident), to a salient angle of the 
 line, and ordered a sergeant to rise and 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] ST. GLAIR S DOUBTS. THE JOLLY HIBERNIAN. 
 
 491 
 
 shoot him. The order was obeyed, and 
 at the discharge of the musket every man 
 arose, mounted the banquet, and without 
 command fired a volley ; the artillery fol 
 lowed the example, as did many of the 
 officers, from the colonels down to subal 
 terns: and, notwithstanding the exertions 
 of the general, his aids, and several other 
 officers, three rounds were discharged be 
 fore they could stop the firing." The 
 whole result of this hurried fire and large 
 consumption of powder was the wound 
 ing of a single lieutenant, and the fright 
 of the rest of the party, who, when the 
 smoke had dispersed, were observed at 
 three hundred yards distance, retreating 
 helter-skelter to the British position on 
 Mount Hope. One drunken fellow, how 
 ever, was left upon the field, who, having 
 been brought into the American lines, 
 proved of some service. 
 
 St. Glair was still ignorant of the force 
 of the enemy, and of their purpose. He 
 now hit upon an expedient for obtaining 
 the information he desired. The tipsy 
 captive, who had been picked up in front 
 of the works, was clapped into the guard 
 house, and, as he was supposed to be in 
 a social and communicative humor, it was 
 proposed to get what he knew out of 
 him. An Irishman, one Captain Johnson, 
 of the American artillery, temporarily as 
 suming the character of a tory (putting 
 on a ragged suit, and concealing about 
 his person a bottle), was thrust in with 
 the prisoner. Johnson s brogue, rags, and 
 whiskey, dispelled all doubts of his coun 
 try, and he soon succeeded in commend 
 ing himself to the fellowship of the cap 
 tive, who was also a jolly Hibernian. 
 
 The prisoner proved to be not only 
 communicative,but intelligent; and John 
 son w T as enabled to draw from him the 
 number and name of every corps under 
 General Burgoyne, and an estimate of the 
 strength of his whole force. It would 
 appear, moreover, to have been pretty 
 clearly ascertained that the enemy s ob 
 ject was to invest the place. 
 
 The American commander, however, 
 still deluded himself with the hope that 
 Burgoyne would hazard an assault. Ac 
 cordingly, for several days, he held his 
 ground ; and, although the British were 
 in possession of Mount Hope, and contin 
 ued to make their approaches, he opened 
 his batteries and kept up a brisk cannon 
 ade. St. Glair strove with all his might 
 to animate his fatigued troops, and or 
 dered every man at morning and evening 
 roll-call to the alarm-posts; while the 
 greatest vigilance and alertness were en 
 joined. 
 
 Burgoj ne, in the meantime, having 
 thoroughly examined the American posi 
 tion, discovered its weak point. This was 
 the unoccupied Sugar-Loaf hill, on the 
 south side of the outlet from Lake George 
 into Lake Champlain. A party of light- 
 infantry had already encamped at its base, 
 and the question was soon started wheth 
 er it were possible to scale the hill and 
 establish upon its summit a force suffi 
 cient for operations against the forts. The 
 directing engineer of the British, Lieu 
 tenant Twiss, having been ordered to re 
 connoitre, reported that the hill had the 
 entire command of the works and build 
 ings of both Ticonderoga and Mount In 
 dependence, at the distance of about four- 
 
492 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 teen hundred yards from the former and 
 fifteen hundred from the latter; that the 
 ground might be levelled so as to receive 
 cannon, and that the road by which to 
 convey them, although difficult, might be 
 made practicable in twenty-four hours ; 
 that the hill also commanded in reverse 
 the bridge of communication across the 
 lake between Ticonderoga and Mount In 
 dependence ; and that from the summit 
 the exact situation of the vessels could 
 be seen, while not a movement of the 
 Americans could be made during the day 
 without being discovered, and even hav 
 ing their numbers counted. 
 
 Burgoyne, after this report, immediate 
 ly ordered General Phillips to take pos 
 session of Sugar-Loaf hill. It was not 
 effected without difficulty ; for such was 
 the steepness of the ascent, that it became 
 necessary to hoist the cannon from tree 
 to tree. :i: The final success, however, was 
 complete ; and, on the 5th of July, the 
 British were in full possession, and signal 
 ized their triumph by christening the hill 
 anew, by the name of " Mount Defiance." 
 When St. Clair beheld the English flag 
 flying from the summit, and the bristling 
 cannon threatening his doomed post, he 
 turned to his officers, saying, " We must 
 away from this, for our situation has be 
 come a desperate one." A council of war 
 was immediately called. 
 
 General St. Clair, having stated 
 July i> . . 
 
 to his officers that there was ev 
 ery reason to believe that the batteries 
 of the enemy were ready to open on the 
 Ticonderoga side, that the camp was very 
 much exposed to their fire, and that a 
 
 * Thucher. 
 
 simultaneous attack would probably be 
 made upon Ticonderoga and Mount Inde 
 pendence, requested their opinion as to 
 whether the whole of the troops, artillery, 
 and stores, should be drawn over to Mount 
 Independence for the defence of that post. 
 The council unanimously agreed that they 
 should be, on that very night. The gen 
 eral then proposed the question whether, 
 after this movement,Mount Independence 
 itself could be defended ; and, if not, whe 
 ther a retreat into the country were prac 
 ticable. They unanimously expressed the 
 opinion that, " as the enemy have already 
 nearly surrounded us, and there remains 
 nothing more to invest us completely but 
 their occupying the neck of land betwixt 
 the lake and the East creek (which is not 
 more than three quarters of a mile over), 
 and possessing themselves of the narrows 
 betwixt that and Skenesborough and 
 therebycutting off all communication with 
 the country a retreat ought to be un 
 dertaken as soon as possible, and that we 
 shall be very fortunate to effect it." 
 
 The retreat having been determined 
 upon, everything was done to effect it, 
 without arousing the suspicions of the 
 enemy. A cannonade was kept up every 
 half hour from the redoubt against the 
 advanced battery of the British ; and, pre 
 vious to striking the tents, all the lights 
 were put out. The cannon left behind 
 were ordered to be spiked, but the trun 
 nions not to be knocked oflj lest the noise 
 might arouse the enemy. The evacua 
 tion had been resolved upon at three 
 o clock in the afternoon, but night was 
 waited for, that it might be carried into 
 execution with greater secrecy. Accord- 
 
UEVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE FUGITIVES FROM TICONDEROGA. 
 
 July 6. 
 
 hm-ly, in the middle of the night 
 July 5, 
 
 the whole camp was aroused, and 
 
 be ""an to move from both Ticonderoga 
 
 O O 
 
 and Mount Independence, with the usual 
 bustle and confusion of a hasty retreat. 
 The sick, the wounded, and the women, 
 were brought out to the shore, together 
 with as many of the cannon and stores 
 as could be collected in the hurry. They 
 were then thrust aboard of two hundred 
 batteaux and boats, which, at three o clock 
 in the morning, pushed up Lake 
 Champlain for Skenesborough, 
 followed by an escort of five armed gal 
 leys and a guard of six hundred men, un 
 der Colonel Long, of New Hampshire. 
 The main body of the troops crossed over 
 the bridge from Ticonderoga to Mount 
 Independence ; and St. Glair, taking an 
 unfinished road through the wilderness, 
 on the east or Vermont side of the lake, 
 led them on toward Hubbardton and Cas- 
 tleton, with the view of reaching Skenes 
 borough by a circuitous march. 
 
 The retreat had been begun with great 
 caution in the silence and darkness of the 
 night, and the enemy seemed to be quite 
 unconscious of the movement. But, by 
 some blunder or accident, the house of 
 General De Fermoy had been set on fire, 
 and suddenly a blaze of light arose from 
 Mount Independence, by which the Brit 
 ish from their lofty position on the hills 
 could see the Americans in full retreat. 
 At ouce the sentries gave the alarm ; the 
 drums beat to arms; and the enemy, Hock 
 ing into the deserted forts, prepared to 
 follow in immediate pursuit. 
 
 The party on the lake got safely off; 
 and, though looking " back with regret 
 
 and forward with apprehension," there 
 were not wanting those who were awa 
 kened to the picturesque interests about 
 them. " The night was moonlit and pleas 
 ant ; the sun burst forth in the morning 
 with uncommon lustre ; the day was fine ; 
 the water s surface serene and unruffled. 
 The shore on each side exhibited a vari 
 egated view of huge rocks, caverns, and 
 clefts, and the whole was bounded by a 
 thick, impenetrable wilderness."* There 
 were, fortunately, other available means 
 to keep up the spirits of those less sensi 
 ble to the exhilarating influence of the 
 beauties of Nature. The drum and the 
 fife struck up their cheering music ; and 
 among the hospital-stores gathered in the 
 haste of the retreat, there were found ma 
 ny " dozen bottles of choice wine," which, 
 by " breaking off their necks," were made 
 available for the enlivenment of the de- 
 sponding.f 
 
 Thus they sailed on during the night 
 and a part of the next day, until they 
 reached Skenesborough at three 
 o clock in the afternoon, the far 
 thest point of the lake navigable by the 
 galleys. Having got thus far in safety, 
 there was no suspicion of further danger. 
 The boats were lying quietly at the wharf, 
 and the people, having landed, were loi 
 tering without concern upon the shore, 
 when suddenly the enemy s fleet hove in 
 sight, and began to pour a broadside into 
 the American galleys and batteaux. 
 
 General Burgoyne was on board the 
 frigate Royal George, on the lake, when 
 he first learned the retreat of the Ameri 
 cans. He immediately ordered General 
 
 * Timelier. | Jb. 
 
494 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 Fraser with his brigade, and Baron Rei- 
 desel with a detachment of B runs wickers, 
 to follow St. Clair by land, while he him 
 self promptly pursued with his fleet the 
 fugitives on the lake. The famous bridge. 
 
 O O 
 
 chain, and boom, which had cost such an 
 immensity of labor and money, and were 
 deemed so impenetrable, were before him. 
 This was the security in the faith of which 
 the Americans were reposing so compla 
 cently at Skenesborough. Bridge, boom, 
 and chain, however, all gave way before 
 the " uncommon efforts and industry" of 
 Burgoyne, and so rapidty, that his gun 
 boats reached Skenesborough only two 
 hours after the arrival of the American 
 flotilla. He had thus almost overtaken 
 it on the lake ; and, if he had, " horridly 
 disastrous indeed would have been our 
 fate," exclaims one of the pursued. Nor 
 were they yet safe. The galleys at the 
 wharves resisted for some time ; but soon 
 two struck their colors, and the rest were 
 blown up. 
 
 While the British gun-boats advanced 
 to Skenesborough, the frigates came to 
 anchor a short distance to the north, and 
 landed a body of British soldiers and In 
 dians. Colonel Long strove to rally his 
 guard, and with them to give battle ; but 
 his efforts were useless. His men were 
 panic-struck, and, having set fire to the 
 fort, mills, and batteaux, scattered in ev 
 ery direction, each one seeking only his 
 personal safety in flight. A number of 
 them, however, soon gathered together 
 for mutual safetv, and fled through a 
 
 / O 
 
 narrow defile, so closely pursued by the 
 enemy, that those in the rear were con 
 stantly calling out, " March on ! the Indi 
 
 ans are at our heels !" Thus the fugi 
 tives pushed on the whole of that night, 
 and until five o clock the next morning, 
 when they reached Fort Anne. 
 Some of the sick succeeded in 
 arriving at the same post, having made 
 their escape in the boats by Wood creek, 
 a small, navigable stream, which branches 
 off from the lake at Skenesborough. All 
 the artillery, provision, most of the bag 
 gage, and some of the invalids, fell into 
 the hands of the enemy. 
 
 General Schuyler, being at Fort Ed 
 ward, and hearing of the disaster, sent a 
 small reinforcement, which so encouraged 
 the fugitives under Colonel Long, that 
 they not only stood their ground at Fort 
 Anne, but prepared to sally out against 
 their pursuers. 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Hill, with the ninth 
 regiment of British regulars, had followed 
 the panic-struck fugitives from 
 Skenesborough, and had posted 
 himself under cover of the woods near 
 Fort Anne. Early the next morning the 
 Americans sallied out, and, while one par 
 ty attacked him in front with great vigor, 
 another crossed a creek in order to take 
 him in the rear. Colonel Hill was forced 
 to shift his ground for fear of being sur 
 rounded, and post himself upon the sum 
 mit of a hill. Here he was pursued and 
 attacked, when a hot struggle ensued, 
 which lasted for nearly t\vo hours. Vic 
 tory was almost in the grasp of the Amer 
 icans, when a number of savages de 
 tached by Burgoyne from Skenesborough 
 rushed out of the neighboring forests, 
 and sent up their terrible war-whoop, 
 which was answered by three cheers from 
 
 July 7, 
 
REVOLUTIONATCY.J 
 
 GENERAL ST. CLAIR S RETREAT. 
 
 49 
 
 July 9, 
 
 the British troops, and Colonel Long s 
 men gave way. Ketiring to Fort Anne, 
 which was a small picket-fort of little im 
 portance, the Americans set fire to it, and 
 then proceeded to Fort Edward, on the 
 Hudson, some thirty miles distant. Here 
 they found General Schnyler, who had 
 come on with the small reinforcement 
 sent from Peekskill, which he 
 had been anxiously awaiting, for 
 the purpose of inarching to the aid of 
 the post at Ticonderoga. 
 
 " I am here," writes Schuyler from Fort 
 Edward, " at the head of a handful of men 
 (not above fifteen hundred), with little 
 ammunition (not above five rounds to a 
 man), having neither balls nor lead to 
 make any. The country is in the deep 
 est consternation ; no carriages to remove 
 the stores from Fort George, which I ex 
 pect every moment to hear is attacked ; 
 and what adds to my distress is, that a 
 report prevails that I had given orders 
 for the evacuation of Ticonderoga." 
 
 Schuyler could learn nothing of the 
 
 / o 
 
 fate of General St. Clair and the main 
 body of the troops. The Americans who 
 had escaped by the lake to Skenesbor- 
 ough, and arrived at Fort Edward, could 
 not clear up the mystery. They merely 
 reported the retreat from Ticonderoga, 
 and their own disasters and adventures. 
 Whether St. Clair had been cut off by the 
 enemy, or had succeeded in making his 
 escape, and was now wandering through 
 the forest wildernesses, was a question the 
 solution of which was anxiously looked 
 for. In two days more the solution came, 
 in the intelligence that St. Clair was safe, 
 with a remnant of his troops, in Vermont. 
 
 Let us now trace his course from the mo 
 ment of abandoning the posts at Ticon 
 deroga and Mount Independence. 
 
 It was three o clock in the morning: be- 
 
 July 7, 
 
 fore St. Clair had begun his re 
 treat with his van, and his rear 
 was still lingering not far from the forts, 
 when the enemy took possession. Gen 
 eral Fraser, a brave and active officer, had 
 no sooner planted the British flag, than 
 he was out in pursuit with his brigade. 
 Baron Reidesel, with his Brunswickers, 
 had been ordered to reinforce him ; but 
 the heavy, formal Germans did not move 
 with the same celerity as Eraser s light- 
 troops, which pushed on quickly in ad 
 vance. 
 
 St. Clair, too, did not linger, but moved 
 on the whole day through the forest wil 
 derness with great speed, and did not halt 
 his advanced troops until the afternoon, 
 at Hubbardton. Here he remained a 
 short time for his rear-guard and strag 
 glers ; but, learning that they were coin 
 ing, St. Clair left Colonel Warner, with a 
 hundred and fifty men, to await their ar 
 rival, and pushed on until night, when he 
 reached Castle ton, some thirty miles dis 
 tant from Ticonderoga. 
 
 Warner had been ordered to join the 
 rear-guard when it arrived at Hubbard 
 ton, and then advance with it toward Cas- 
 tleton. When, however, Colonel Francis, 
 who commanded the rear-guard, came up, 
 he and Warner, either confiding in their 
 numbers, which amounted to over fifteen 
 hundred men, or underrating the activity 
 of their pursuers, determined to halt for 
 
 the ni^ht at Hubbardton. Ear- 
 
 i ii *i 
 
 ly the next morning they were 
 
496 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 parading their troops, in readiness to fol 
 low St. Glair, when General Fraser sud 
 denly marched into Hubbardton ! This 
 brave and expeditious officer had kept 
 close upon the heels of Warner the whole 
 day before ; and, as his own force was 
 small, amounting to only eight hundred 
 and fifty men, and he knew that St. Glair 
 could not be far in advance, he ordered 
 his troops to lie on their arms for the 
 night, waiting to attack the rear of the 
 Americans when their van should be suf 
 ficiently distant. The occasion was now 
 offered ; and Fraser, although with an in 
 ferior force, being too impatient to await 
 the coming up of the Germans, at once 
 began an attack. The Americans gener 
 ally bore the onset gallantly ; but Colo 
 nel Hale, who is said to have been dis 
 pirited by a long illness, fled immediate 
 ly with his whole regiment of militia in 
 the direction of Castleton. This greatly 
 diminished the force of the Americans; 
 but those left bravely stood their ground, 
 and at their very first fire made great 
 havoc in the front ranks of the enemy, 
 striking down twenty-one men, killing 
 Major Grant, a distinguished British offi 
 cer, and wounding the young earl of Ba,l- 
 carras, at the head of the light-infantry. 
 Colonels Warner and Francis led on their 
 men with great gallantry, and were them 
 selves foremost in the fight. The Amer 
 icans were apparently driving their oppo 
 nents from the ground, when the drums 
 were heard of the German troops coming 
 up to reinforce Fraser. This dispirited 
 the Americans and encouraged the Brit 
 
 ish. The latter now made a vigorous 
 charge with their bayonets, and remained 
 masters of the field. The loss of the en 
 emy was a hundred and eighty-three in 
 killed and wounded ; that of the Ameri 
 cans amounted to over three hundred, 
 twelve of whom were officers, and among 
 them Colonel Francis. The recreant Hale 
 and his militia met with a characteristic 
 fate : they surrendered to a small party 
 of British troops, much inferior to them 
 selves. 
 
 General St. Glair, at Castleton, hearing 
 
 O 
 
 the firing, immediately sent his aid-de 
 camp to order two militia regiments 
 which were encamped three or four miles 
 in his rear to reinforce the troops at 
 Hubbardton. They, however, refused to 
 obey. St. Glair then prepared to march 
 himself; but, finding that the Americans 
 had been put to flight, he continued his 
 retreat. Skenesborough had been his ob 
 ject, in the circuitous route which he had 
 taken ; but an officer of one of the Amer 
 ican galleys having come in and reported 
 that the British were pursuing in force 
 toward that place, he changed his line of 
 march, and struck the woods to his left, 
 on the route to Bennington (in the New- 
 Hampshire grants, now Vermont) ; and, 
 while on his way thither, intelligence was 
 first received by General Schuyler,at Fort 
 Edward, of his safety. 
 
 " The king," says Horace Walpole, " on 
 receiving the account of the taking of 
 Ticonderoga, ran into the queen s room, 
 crying, I have beat them beat all the 
 Americans ! " 
 
REVOLUTJONAITC J WASHINGTON MOVES TOWARD THE HUDSON. 
 
 497 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 Washington incredulous of the Fall of Ticonderoga. He does not doubt the Advance of General Burgoyne. Prepares to 
 give Him a Check. Urges that General Arnold be sent North for the Purpose. Moves his own Army nearer the 
 Hudson. Encamps at the Clove. He disapproves of the Abandonment of Ticonderoga. Disappointed, but not dis 
 heartened. General St. Glair at Fort Edward. The American Force at the North. Its Sorry Condition. Fortunate 
 Delay of Burgoyne. General Schuyler fortifies a Camp at Moses Creek. The Discouragement of. the Country. 
 Schuyler slandered. St. Glair assumes the Responsibility. A Lost Post : a Saved State. The American Troops 
 disaffected. Arnold arrives at Moses Creek. His Disinterested Conduct. Burgoyne on the Move. A Difficult 
 March. Proclamations and Counter-Proclamations. The British caught napping in Rhode Island. A Novel Batter 
 ing-Ram. Capture of General Prescott. 
 
 1777, 
 
 July 10, 
 
 WHEN the first rumor of the loss 
 of Ticonderoga reached Washing 
 ton, he was loath to believe it. General 
 Schuyler had written him from Stillwater, 
 while on his way to Fort Ed ward, 
 what he had heard ; but the en 
 tire account appeared so confused to the 
 eommander-m-chief, that he could not "es 
 tablish any certain deduction from it," 
 and hoped that it might prove " prema 
 ture and groundless." Whether true or 
 not, he was no longer in doubt that Gen 
 eral Burgoyne had come up Lake Cham- 
 plain, determined to push his way toward 
 the Hudson, and that a check to his prog 
 ress was absolutely necessary. The mi 
 litia from New York and the New-Eng 
 land states must be instantly called out 
 in full force, and an active, spirited officer 
 appointed to conduct and lead them on. 
 General Arnold was recommended as the 
 man for this business. " He is active, ju 
 dicious, and brave, and an officer in whom J 
 the militia will repose great confidence ;" 
 and, besides, " he is well acquainted with 
 that country, and with the routes and 
 most important passes and defiles in it," 
 63 
 
 wrote Washington to Congress, advising 
 that body to send Arnold at once from 
 Philadelphia to the northern department. 
 Believing, too, that Sir William Howe 
 would push against the Highland passes, 
 in order to co-operate with General Bur 
 goyne, Washington moved his own army 
 toward the North river. From Morris- 
 town, where he had encamped after leav 
 ing Middlebrook, he marched to 
 T> TT July 13, 
 
 rompton plains. He was now 
 
 no longer in doubt concerning the fall of 
 Ticonderoga, for General Schuyler had 
 sent him more specific information from 
 Fort Edward. Washington pronounced 
 the evacuation of the posts upon Lake 
 Champlain as " among the most unfortu 
 nate that could have befallen us." Schuy 
 ler, having written that he had not been 
 able to learn anything about General St. 
 Clair and the army under him, Washing 
 ton writes in answer that he is 
 astonished beyond expression. 
 " I am totally at loss," he says, " to con 
 ceive what has become of them. The 
 whole affair is so mysterious, that it even 
 baffles conjecture." He was sufficiently 
 
 July 13, 
 
498 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [_PART II. 
 
 July 15. 
 
 sanguine, however, to hope that they 
 might have " changed their design of re 
 treating from the forts, and returned to 
 them," although he feared that they had 
 all fallen into the hands of the enemy. 
 
 Washington, having marched 
 his army still nearer to the Hud 
 son, and encamped at the Clove, he here 
 receives a despatch from General Schuy- 
 ler, clearing up the mystery in regard to 
 St. Clair. He expresses his chagrin and 
 surprise that Ticonderoga and Mount In 
 dependence should have been evacuated 
 an event, he snys, "not apprehended, 
 nor within the compass of my reasoning." 
 Even at this late moment, Washington, 
 by some strange and inexplicable neglect 
 on the part of Schuyler, had not been 
 correctly informed of the condition of St. 
 Clair and his troops previous to their re 
 treat. He very naturally declares that he 
 knows not upon what principle the evac 
 uation was founded, and that it was diffi 
 cult to be accounted for, u if the garrison 
 amounted to five thousand men, in high spirits, 
 healthy, well supplied with provisions and am 
 munition, and the eastern militia marching 
 to their succor." 
 
 Washington, however, does not allow 
 himself to indulge long in useless regrets. 
 "This stroke," he writes, "is severe indeed, 
 and has distressed us much." But, with 
 his usual firm reliance upon the justice 
 of his cause, he calmly says : " Notwith 
 standing things at present have a dark 
 and gloomy aspect, I hope a spirited op 
 position will check the progress of Gen 
 eral Burgoyne s army, and that the con 
 fidence derived from his success will hur 
 ry rhim into measures that will in their 
 
 July 12, 
 
 consequences be favorable to us. We 
 should never despair. Our situation has 
 before been unpromising, and has changed 
 for the better : so I trust it will again. If 
 new difficulties arise, we must only put 
 forth new exertions, and proportion our 
 efforts to the exigency of the times." 
 
 General St. Clair finally succeeded in 
 reaching Schuyler, at Fort Ed 
 ward, with the remnant of his 
 jaded troops, after their long and painful 
 march through a wild country of forest, 
 mountain, and morass. The whole north 
 ern army, when thus concentrated, num 
 bered only four thousand four hundred 
 men, inclusive of the militia. They were 
 deficient in almost every requirement : 
 they had neither tents, houses, barns, 
 boards, nor any shelter, except a little 
 brushwood ; their supply of ammunition 
 was so scanty, that the inhabitants of Al 
 bany were obliged to strip the windows 
 of the shops and houses of their leaden 
 weights to melt into balls; provisions they 
 had in tolerable abundance, but means to 
 cook them were so scarce, that only one 
 camp-kettle could be afforded to every 
 twenty men. Under these circumstances 
 disease increased, and the troops were so 
 disheartened, that desertions began to pre 
 vail to an alarming extent. 
 
 Fortunately for the Americans, G cneral 
 Burgoyne lingered atSkenesborough and 
 in its neighborhood, waiting for the arri 
 val of tents,baggage,and provisions. This 
 delay of the British general gave Schuy 
 ler an opportunity of making some efforts 
 to strengthen himself and oppose the 
 march of the enemy. A position was se 
 lected for a fortified camp at Moses creek, 
 
REVOLTJTIONAKY.] GENERALS SCHUYLER AND ST. CLAIR SLANDERED. 
 
 499 
 
 on the Hudson, five miles below FortEcl- 
 wa rcl. Kosciusko, who was chief-engineer, 
 had chosen the ground and superintend 
 ed the works. Everything was done, by 
 the destruction of bridges, and the felling 
 of trees across the roads and passes, to 
 obstruct the march of the enemy from 
 the north. Schuyler, however, with all 
 his activity, found that his exertions were 
 of little avail. His troops were daily di 
 minishing by disease and desertion, and 
 the country failed to respond to his ear 
 nest appeals for aid. " Every letter I re 
 ceive from the county of Tryon," he says, 
 " advise me that the inhabitants of it will 
 lay down their arms unless I support them 
 
 with continental troops The district of 
 
 Schoharie," he adds, " has also pointedly 
 intimated that, unless continental troops 
 are sent them, they will also submit to 
 the enemy." 
 
 The country was, in fact, greatly dis 
 heartened by the loss of the northern 
 posts, for which Generals Schuyler and 
 St. Clair were unjustly held responsible. 
 It was even believed that they had acted 
 the part of traitors to their country, and 
 absurdly rumored that they had been 
 paid for their treason by Burgoyne in 
 silver balls, which he had shot into the 
 American camp ! General St. Clair soon 
 relieved Schuyler from all responsibility 
 for the abandonment of Ticonderoga and 
 Mount Independence. " He knew noth 
 ing of the matter until it was over," was 
 St. Glair s public refutation of the slan 
 ders against Schuyler. "As to myself," 
 he continues,"! was perfectly easy. 1 
 was conscious of the uprightness and pro 
 priety of my conduct, and despised the 
 
 July 27, 
 
 vague censure of an uninformed popu 
 lace." More than this, St. Clair justified 
 his act, not only on the ground of its ne 
 cessity, but its policy. " Although I have 
 lost a post," he exclaims, " I have event 
 ually saved a state ;" and, notwithstand 
 ing the slanders which for a time were 
 visited upon him by the ignorant and un 
 charitable, it was not long before his proud 
 boast was recognised as the statement of 
 a fact. 
 
 These slanders against the generals, 
 however, circulated so freely and with so 
 much effect in the army, that the troops 
 became widely disaffected, and either lost 
 all spirit for the service or abandoned it 
 altogether. Schuyler himself gives this 
 discouraging account of his force : " It 
 consists of about twenty-seven 
 hundred continental troops; of 
 militia from the state of Connecticut, one 
 major, one captain, two lieutenants, tw r o 
 ensigns, one adjutant, one quartermaster, 
 six sergeants, one drummer, six sick and 
 three rank and file fit for duty ; the rest, 
 after remaining three or four days, desert 
 ed us : of those from the county of Berk 
 shire (in the Massachusetts), who consist 
 ed of upward of twelve hundred, half of 
 which were to have remained, somew T hat 
 more than two hundred are left, the re 
 mainder having also deserted : of Colonel 
 Moseley s regiment from the county of 
 Hampshire (Massachusetts), about ten or 
 twelve are left, the rest having deserted : 
 of Colonel Porter s regiment of the coun 
 ty of Hampshire, about two hundred left : 
 of the militia of the county of Albany, ten 
 hundred and fifty are left, being forty-six 
 more than half of what were upon the 
 
500 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 ground, when it was resolved to let half 
 
 3 / 
 
 return to their habitations." 
 
 " That torpor," adds Schuyler, as a com 
 mentary upon the facts he had just stated, 
 kk criminal indifference, and want of spirit, 
 which so generally prevails, is more dan 
 gerous than all the efforts of the enemy. 
 Nor is that jealousy and spirit of detrac 
 tion, which so unhappily prevails, of small 
 detriment to our cause." 
 
 Major-General Arnold, flattered by the 
 complimentary preference of Washington, 
 and eager for action, did not hesitate to 
 proceed to the North when ordered by 
 Congress, in accordance with the advice 
 of the commander-in-chief. Although he 
 would thus be obliged to serve under St. 
 Clair, who was one of the five major-gen 
 erals whose promotion above him had so 
 grievously wounded Arnold s spirit, he 
 yet for the present generously waived all 
 personal feeling, and took the subordinate 
 position. On joining General Schuyler, 
 at Fort Edward, Arnold moved with the 
 army to Moses creek, and received the 
 command of the left division, encamped 
 on one side of the Hudson river ; while 
 Major-General St. Clair commanded the 
 right, on the opposite side. 
 
 General Burgoyne, after lingering three 
 weeks at Skenesborough, at length began 
 his march toward the south. Instead of 
 returning to Ticonderoga,and thence pro 
 ceeding by Lake George to Fort George 
 (whence there was a good road to Fort 
 Edward, which was his object), he deter 
 mined to strike across the country by a 
 more direct route. Fearful, however, that 
 turning back would appear like a retreat, 
 and thus destroy the prestige of his late 
 
 triumph, or influenced by the opinion of 
 the tory Major Skene, of Skenesborough 
 (who is suspected of having advised the 
 land-route, that the value of his property, 
 of which he was an extensive holder in 
 that neighborhood, might be enhanced by 
 a military road), Burgoyne marched for 
 ward. His route was naturally a difficult 
 and laborious one, through a country of 
 forest and swamp, where he had to cut 
 down trees, plunge into morasses, and 
 throw bridges across the numerous creeks, 
 ravines, and gulleys. The weather, too, 
 was sultry, and the musketoes abounded, 
 greatly tormenting his men, whose Euro 
 pean freshness seemed to provoke these 
 annoying insects to more than ordinary 
 bloodthirstiness. Schuyler s precautions 
 in destroying the bridges, and obstructing 
 the roads and passes with felled trees, also 
 added greatly to the difficulties and de 
 lays of Burgoyne s march. He, however, 
 continued his route toward Fort Edward ; 
 while General Phillips, with the artillery, 
 provisions, and baggage, guarded by a 
 strong detachment of troops, proceeded 
 by the way of Lake George, with the pur 
 pose of forming on the Hudson a junc 
 tion with the main body, which had pre 
 ceded him by land. 
 
 In the course of his progress, while the 
 country was impressed by his recent tri 
 umphs and his overwhelming force, Bur 
 goyne strove to induce the inhabitants to 
 abandon the American cause. He issued 
 a swelling proclamation, abounding in the 
 usual promises of reward for compliance 
 and threats of punishment for disobedi 
 ence. General Schuyler put forth a no 
 less rhetorical counter-edict, in which the 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 CAPTURE OF GENERAL PRESCOTT. 
 
 501 
 
 people, being reminded how the British 
 in New Jersey had "cruelly butchered, 
 without distinction of age or sex; ravished 
 children from ten to women of eighty 
 years of age ;" burned, pillaged, and de 
 stroyed, not even sparing " in their sacri 
 legious fury those edifices dedicated to 
 the worship of Almighty God," were told 
 that the same fate awaited them. 
 
 While everything thus appeared so dis 
 astrous for the American cause in the 
 North, an event occurred in Ehode Isl 
 and which, however trifling in itself, great 
 ly stimulated the spirit of the country. 
 General Prescott was in command of the 
 British troops at Rhode island, and held 
 his headquarters at a farmhouse near the 
 water, about five miles from Newport. 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Barton, in command 
 of a regiment of Rhode-Island militia, de 
 termined to surprise him and carry him 
 off. He accordingly selected thirty-eight 
 men, in whom he had confidence, and set 
 out on the expedition one dark night. 
 From Warwick neck they rowed over in 
 two boats, with muffled oars, to the op 
 posite side of the bay, a distance of ten 
 miles. Having passed the British men- 
 of-war and guard-boats without exciting 
 alarm, they landed, and silently proceed 
 ed on. Upon reaching the house, they 
 secured the sentinel, and entered. Arri 
 ving at the door of the room where the 
 British general slept, they found it locked; 
 whereupon a negro of the name of Prince, 
 who was at Barton s side, and is spoken 
 
 of as his " confidential friend," with a leap 
 " plunged his head against the door, and 
 knocked out the panel, through which the 
 colonel entered."* Prescott was found in 
 bed, and immediately secured. His aid- 
 de-camp attempted to escape from the 
 house by leaping through a window, but 
 was caught and carried over to the main 
 land together with the general. Barton 
 and his party returned with their prize 
 across the bay, silently and cautiously as 
 they came. Prescott, who seemed great 
 ly surprised at the success of Barton s en 
 terprise, remarked to him as they landed, 
 " Sir, I did not think it possible you could 
 escape the vigilance of the water-guards." 
 The boldness, skill, and success, with 
 which the enterprise had been conducted, 
 were highly lauded. Congress voted Bar 
 ton a sword, and promoted him to the 
 rank of a colonel of the continental army. 
 The country exulted more particularly 
 over the capture of Prescott, because in 
 an officer of his rank they held an equiv 
 alent for Major-General Lee, still a pris 
 oner, for whom Washington immediately 
 proposed to exchange the British com 
 mander. In the meanwhile, Prescott was 
 ordered to be " genteelly accommodated, 
 but strongly guarded," and removed into 
 some place " where the people are gener 
 ally well affected." He was refused his 
 liberty on parole, and it was determined 
 to treat him in every respect as Lee was 
 treated by the British. 
 
 * Holmes s Annals of America. 
 
502 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 Puzzling Conduct of General Howe. He is supposed to seek a Junction with General Burgoync. Lord Stirling sent to 
 Peekskill. The Departure of the British Fleet from New York. A Pithy Letter from General Putnam. A Trick of 
 the British exposed. The Enemy off the Capes of Delaware. They sail away again. Washington perplexed. lie 
 moves his Army to Germantown. Washington in Philadelphia. Meeting with the Marquis de Lafayette. His Life 
 and Character. His Devotion to the American Cause. His Interviews with Franklin and Deane. His Escape from 
 Franco. Arrival in America. His First Impressions. His Joyous Progress. His First Rebuff. Final Success. 
 Appointed Major-General. Becomes a Member of Washington s Family. Washington s Opinion of Him Count 
 Pulaski. His Life and Character. He is appointed Major-General and Commander of the Cavalry. 
 
 1777, 
 
 GENERAL HOWE S " conduct is puz 
 zling and embarrassing beyond 
 measure ; so are the informations which 
 
 July 22, 
 
 I get/ writes Washington. " At 
 
 one time the ships are standing 
 up toward the North river; in a little 
 they are going up the sound ; and in an 
 hour after they are going out of the Hook." 
 Washington, however, was for awhile so 
 far persuaded that Howe s object was to 
 form a junction with General Burgoyne, 
 by the Hudson, that he sent Lord Stir 
 ling with his division to Peekskill, and 
 moved with the rest of his army to Ram- 
 apo. But, while here, he learned that 
 , Sir William Howe had left New 
 
 York, with a fleet of two hun 
 dred and sixty-seven sail, and a land-force 
 of about sixteen thousand men, made up 
 of thirty-six British and Hessian battal 
 ions, a powerful artillery, a New-York 
 corps called the Queen s Rangers, and a 
 regiment of light-horse. Sir Henry Clin 
 ton was left at New York with seventeen 
 battalions, a regiment of light-horse, and 
 a corps of American loyalists. Clinton 
 had been to Europe, and his return was 
 first made known to General Putnam by 
 
 receiving from him a flag of truce, with 
 a demand to give up Lieutenant Palmer. 
 This provoked the following memorable 
 
 reply :- 
 
 "HEADQUARTERS, 7 Aug., 1777. 
 
 " Edmund Palmer, an officer in the ene 
 my s service, was taken as a spy, lurking 
 within our lines; he has been tried as a 
 spy, condemned as a spy, and shall be 
 executed as a spy, and the flag is ordered 
 to depart immediately. 
 
 "ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 " P. S. He has been accordingly exe 
 cuted." 
 
 Washington also received such infor 
 mation as induced him to believe that 
 tlie Delaware was General Howe s desti 
 nation. It became necessaiy, therefore, 
 to move the army back again in that di 
 rection, and to recall the divisions of Lord 
 Stirling and General Sullivan from the 
 Hudson river. 
 
 As Washington was preparing for his 
 march toward the Delaware, he received 
 through General Putnam the following 
 letter, addressed to General Burgoyne, 
 
 O / / 
 
 which a young man had brought into the 
 American camp at Peekskill: 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] A BRITISH TRICK. WASHINGTON PERPLEXED. 
 
 503 
 
 (< NKW YORK, July 20, 1777. 
 SIR: I have received your let 
 ter of the 14th of May, from Quebec, and 
 shall fully observe the contents. The 
 
 expedition to B n [Boston] will take 
 
 place of that up the North river. If, ac 
 cording to my expectations, we may suc 
 ceed rapidly in the possession of B , 
 
 the enemy having no force of consequence 
 there, 1 shall, without loss of time, pro 
 ceed to co-operate with you in the defeat 
 of the rebel army opposed to you. Clin 
 ton is sufficiently strong to amuse Wash 
 ington and Putnam. I am now making 
 demonstration to the southward, which I 
 think will have the full effect in carrying 
 our plan into execution. Success attend 
 you! "W. HOWE." 
 
 The story of the young man who had 
 presented himself, and given up the let 
 ter, was this : He had, he said, been a pris 
 oner in New York, and was offered a hand 
 some sum for carrying the letter to Gen 
 eral Burgoyne, which at first he refused 
 to do, but subsequently consented, with 
 the intention of taking it to she American 
 camp. Washington no sooner read the 
 letter, than he saw that it was a trick. 
 "It was evidently intended," says he, " to 
 fall into our hands. The complexion of 
 it, the circumstances attending it, evince 
 this beyond a doubt in my mind." He 
 accordingly urged Putnam to lose no time 
 in sending on General Sullivan and Lord 
 Stirling with their divisions, while Wash 
 ington himself moved the main body to 
 Coryell s ferry on the Delaware, in order 
 to be ready to cross that river as soon 
 as the enemy made a movement toward 
 Philadelphia. To General Gates, who was 
 
 then in that city, Washington wrote, ur 
 ging him to be on the alert for informa 
 tion, and to transmit it as soon as he had 
 ascertained it to his satisfaction ; for he 
 declares that he himself will pay no re 
 gard to any flying reports of the appear 
 ance of the fleet. 
 
 From Philadelphia soon came the in 
 telligence that the enemy had arrived off 
 the capes of Delaware. Next day, how 
 ever, an express came hurrying into the 
 camp with the news that the fleet had 
 borne away again, taking an easterly 
 course. "Now, surely the North river 
 must be their object," thought Washing 
 ton ; and he orders General Sullivan back 
 again to Peekskill, for the " importance 
 of preventing Mr. Howe s getting posses 
 sion of the Highlands, by a coup de mam, 
 is infinite to America." Washington, thus 
 perplexed by the strange movements of 
 the enemy, finally moves his army across 
 the Delaware, and encamps at German- 
 town, about six miles from Phila 
 delphia. His letter to his broth 
 er Augustine at this time is the best ex 
 position of his movements and perplexi 
 ties : 
 
 "Since General Howe removed from 
 the Jerseys," writes Washington, "the 
 troops under my command have been 
 more harassed by marching and counter 
 marching than by any other thing that 
 has happened to them in the course of 
 the campaign. After he had embarked 
 his troops, the presumption that he would 
 co-operate upon the North river, to form 
 a junction with General Burgoyne, was 
 so strong, that I removed from Middle- 
 brook to Morristown, and from Morris- 
 
504 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 town to the Clove, a narrow passage lead 
 ing through the Highlands, about eigh 
 teen miles from the river. Indeed, upon 
 some pretty strong presumptive evidence, 
 I threw two divisions over the North riv 
 er. In this situation we lay till about the 
 2 4 th ultimo [July], when, receiving cer 
 tain information that the fleet had actu 
 ally sailed from Sandy Hook, and upon 
 the concurring sentiment of every one, 
 though I acknowledge my doubts of it 
 were strong, that Philadelphia was their 
 object, we countermarched, and got to 
 Cory ell s ferry on the Delaware, about 
 thirty-three miles above the city, on the 
 27th [July], where I lay until I received 
 information from Congress that the ene 
 my were actually at the capes of Dela 
 ware. This brought us in great haste to 
 this place [German town], for the defence 
 of the city [Philadelphia]. But, in less 
 than twenty-four hours after our arrival, 
 we got accounts of the disappearance of 
 the fleet on the 31st [July] ; since which, 
 nothing having been heard of them, we 
 have remained here in a very irksome 
 state of suspense ; some imagining that 
 they are gone to the southward, whilst a 
 majority, in whose opinion upon this oc 
 casion I concur, are satisfied that they are 
 gone eastward. The fatigue, however, 
 and injury, which men must sustain by 
 long marches in such extreme heat as we 
 have felt for the last five days, must keep 
 us quiet till we hear something of the 
 destination of the enemy." 
 
 While the army was encamped at Ger- 
 mantown, Washington was frequently in 
 Philadelphia. On one of these occasions 
 Ii9 for the first time met the marquis de 
 
 Lafayette, at dinner. When the party 
 was breaking up, Washington took him 
 aside, and, having complimented him up 
 on the noble disinterestedness which he 
 had shown in behalf of the American 
 cause,invited him to headquarters, telling 
 him that he might always consider it as 
 his home, and himself as one of the fam 
 ily. The American commander, however, 
 remarked in a tone of pleasantry that he 
 could not promise him the luxuries of a 
 court, or even the conveniences which 
 his former habits might have rendered 
 essential to his comfort- but added that, 
 since the young nobleman had become 
 an American soldier, he would doubtless 
 try to accommodate himself to the char 
 acter which he had assumed, and submit 
 to the manners, customs, and privations, 
 of a republican army. 
 
 The marquis GILBERT MOTHER DE LA 
 FAYETTE was born on the 6th of Septem 
 ber, 1757, at Chavagnac, in the province 
 of Auvergne, France, and was married be 
 fore he was eighteen years of age to the 
 grand-daughter of the due de Noailles. 
 Like most French youth of rank and for 
 tune at that time, he entered the army ; 
 and, while on duty at Metz, he tells us 
 that his enthusiasm in behalf of the Amer 
 ican cause was first awakened. The duke 
 of Gloucester, a brother of King George 
 III, happened to be on a visit to Metz, 
 where he was complimented with a din 
 ner by the commandant of the place. The 
 young marquis de Lafayette was one of 
 the guests on the occasion. The Ameri 
 can war (apropos to some despatches late 
 ly received in England) became a topic 
 of conversation at dinner; and, although 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] MARQUIS GILBERT MOTTIER DE LAFAYETTE. 
 
 505 
 
 the royal English duke was not likely to 
 have given a very favorable coloring to 
 the cause of the "rebels," Lafayette s in 
 terest was at once so much awakened by 
 his grace s talk, that, even before he arose 
 from the table, the thought suggested it 
 self to him of offering his services in be 
 half of a people struggling for independ 
 ence. 
 
 With his young heart filled with en 
 thusiasm for liberty, the marquis hurries 
 to Paris, and there seeks out his two bo 
 som friends, Count Segur and Viscount 
 de Noailles, to whom he announces his 
 intention to go to America, and entreats 
 them to join him in the enterprise. They 
 readily consent ; but, on consulting their 
 parents, upon whom they are dependent 
 for support, they are forced to abandon 
 the scheme. They, however, kept their 
 friend s secret. Lafayette, being in the 
 enjoyment of an income of nearly forty 
 thousand dollars a year, was in a position 
 of greater independence than his youth 
 ful companions, and therefore resolutely 
 clung to his original plan. He soon ob 
 tained an interview with the count de 
 Broglie, then prime minister under Louis 
 XVI., who, with the cautious prudence of 
 age, strove to deter the young enthusiast 
 from what appeared to him a rash and 
 dangerous enterprise. " I have," said the 
 veteran, " seen your uncle die in the wars 
 of Italy ; I witnessed your father s death 
 at the battle of Minden ; and I will not 
 be accessory to the ruin of the only re 
 maining branch of the family." 
 
 De Broglie continued urgently to coun 
 sel the youthful marquis against the un 
 dertaking ; but, finding his efforts useless, 
 
 he introduced him to Baron de Kalb, a 
 Prussian officer, who had been in Amer 
 ica, in order that the inexperienced La 
 fayette might obtain from him the intro 
 ductions and information he desired. De 
 Kalb presented him to Silas Deane, the 
 American commissioner in Paris. " When 
 I presented my boyish face to Mr. Deane," 
 says Lafayette, "I spoke more of my ar 
 dor in the cause than of rny experience ; 
 but I dwelt much upon the effect my de 
 parture would excite in France, and he 
 signed our agreement." The purport of 
 this agreement was, that the young mar 
 quis should, on joining the American ser 
 vice, receive from Congress the appoint 
 ment of major-general, and be conveyed 
 to America in a vessel about to sail, with 
 munitions of war for the patriot armies. 
 In the meantime, news having arrived of 
 the success of the British at Fort Wash 
 ington, and of the subsequent retreat of 
 the American army through New Jersey, 
 the activity of French sympathy was so 
 far checked, that the despatching of the 
 French vessel with supplies was necessa 
 rily abandoned. 
 
 The enthusiasm of the ardent Lafay 
 ette was, however, proof against the most 
 disastrous news. When urged to give 
 up his scheme, he answered : " My zeal 
 and love of liberty have, perhaps, been 
 hitherto the prevailing motives ; but now 
 I see a chance for usefulness, which I had 
 not anticipated. I have money: I will 
 purchase a ship, which shall convey to 
 America myself, my companions, and the 
 freight for Congress." Accordingly, he did 
 purchase a ship j and, while it was fitting 
 at Bordeaux, for sea, Lafayette took the 
 
506 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 PATCT II. 
 
 occasion of visiting England. His wife s 
 uncle, the marquis de Noailles, was the 
 French embassador in London ; and un 
 der such auspices he was, of course, read 
 ily admitted to the court and the society 
 which gathered about it. His first visit, 
 however, was to an American, Mr. Ban 
 croft. He was subsequently presented to 
 the king ; he danced at the homes of Lord 
 George Germain, then minister of Ameri- 
 
 O 
 
 can affairs, and of Lord Rawdon, who had 
 just returned from New York ; and joined 
 General Sir Henry Clinton in his box at 
 the opera, whom he was destined after 
 ward to meet as an enemy on the field 
 of battle. Lafayette says, in regard to 
 these intimacies with the society of Lon 
 don : " Whilst I concealed rny intentions 
 of going to make war in America, I open 
 ly avowed my sentiments; I often defend 
 ed the Americans ; I rejoiced at their suc 
 cess at Trenton ; and my opposition spirit 
 obtained for me an invitation to break 
 fast with Lord Shelburne. I refused the 
 offers made me to visit the seaports, the 
 vessels fitting out against the rebels, and 
 everything that might be construed into 
 an abuse of confidence." 
 
 On Lafayette s return to France, he 
 concealed himself for some days at Passy, 
 where he saw but a few of his personal 
 friends and some Americans, among whom 
 was Doctor Franklin, who, with Arthur 
 Lee, of Virginia, had become joint com 
 missioners with Deane. Franklin admired 
 the spirit and generous disinterestedness 
 of the marquis, and furthered his objects. 
 On Lafayette s leaving for Bordeaux, to 
 embark, the French government, thro ugh 
 the complaint of the British embassador 
 
 in Paris, was on the alert, and strove to 
 prevent his departure. His family also, 
 with the exception of his young wife, who 
 shared in her husband s enthusiasm for 
 the American cause, were anxious that 
 he should abandon his scheme. He suc 
 ceeded in reaching Bordeaux, and imme 
 diately set sail for Passage, a small sea 
 port in Spain, where he proposed to wait 
 for the ship s papers. Here, however, fol 
 lowed him a lettre de cachet from the king, 
 forbidding his departure, and letters from 
 the government ministers and from his 
 family, insisting up the abandonment of 
 his enterprise. But finally, after some 
 hair- breadth escapes from pursuit, and 
 meeting with one or two romantic adven 
 tures, he got safely to sea, leaving his 
 young wife and child behind him. Bar 
 on de Kalb and several other military 
 personages, looking for service in Amer 
 ica, accompanied him. The ship arrived 
 at Charleston, and the young marquis s 
 impressions seem to have been of the 
 most agreeable kind. The democratic 
 features of American life were the first 
 to catch the eye of the high-born noble 
 man fresh from the ceremonious court of 
 Versailles, but the effect was apparently 
 no less delightful than new. 
 
 " I will now tell you," writes Lafayette 
 to his wife, " about the country and its 
 inhabitants. They are as agreeable as 
 my enthusiasm had painted them. Sim 
 plicity of manners, kindness, love of coun 
 try and of liberty, and a delightful equal 
 ity, everywhere prevail. The wealthiest 
 man and the poorest are on a level ; and, 
 although there are some large fortunes, 
 I challenge any one to discover the slight- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] LAFAYETTE JOINS THE ARMY. HIS IMPRESSIONS. 
 
 507 
 
 cst difference between the manners of 
 these two classes respectively toward each 
 other. I first saw the country-life at the 
 house of Major Huger. I am now in the 
 city [Charleston], where everything is 
 very much after the English fashion, ex 
 cept that there is more simplicity, equal 
 ity, cordiality, and courtesy, here than in 
 England. 
 
 " The city of Charleston is one of the 
 handsomest and best built, and the inhab 
 itants among the most agreeable, that I 
 have ever seen. The American women 
 are very pretty, simple in their manners, 
 and exhibit a neatness which is every 
 where cultivated, even more studiously 
 than in England. What most charms me 
 is, that all the citizens are brethren. In 
 America, there are no poor, nor even what 
 we call peasantry. Each individual has 
 his own honest property, and the same 
 rights as the most wealthy landed propri 
 etor. The inns are very different from 
 those of Europe : the host and hostess sit 
 at table with you, and do the honors of a 
 comfortable meal ; and, on going away, 
 you pay your bill without higgling. When 
 one does not wish to go to an inn, there 
 are country-houses where the title of a 
 good American is a sufficient passport to 
 all those civilities paid in Europe to one s 
 friend." 
 
 Receiving everywhere a flattering wel 
 come, the young Lafayette goes on joy 
 ously from South to North Carolina, and 
 thence through Virginia to Maryland and 
 Pennsylvania. On reaching Philadelphia, 
 where Congress was assembled, he sub 
 mits his letters to Mr. Lovell, the chair 
 man of the committee of foreign affairs, 
 
 The next day, Lafayette presents himself 
 at the hall of Congress, where Mr. Lovell 
 comes out to meet him, with the discour 
 aging intelligence that, as Congress had 
 been embarrassed with the applications 
 of so many foreigners, there was but little 
 chance of his success. The young mar 
 quis, however, was not to be driven away 
 by such a rebuff: so he immediately wrote 
 to the president of Congress, asking per 
 mission to serve in the American army, 
 on these two conditions : that he should 
 receive no pay, and that he should act as 
 a volunteer. These terms were so differ 
 ent from those asked by the crowd of for 
 eign military adventurers, that they were 
 at once accepted ; and the youthful La 
 fayette, not yet twenty years of age, was 
 appointed major-general in the American 
 army. 
 
 His encouraging reception by Wash 
 ington, added to the success of his final 
 application to Congress, greatly inspirited 
 Lafayette, and he became eager for ser 
 vice. His horses and equipage were im 
 mediately sent to the camp at German- 
 town ; and he availed himself of the com- 
 mander-in-chief s invitation, and became, 
 as it were, a member of his family. On 
 the very next day after making his ac 
 quaintance at the dinner-party, Washing 
 ton invited him to ride out with him, to 
 inspect the fortifications on the Delaware. 
 These courtesies flattered the marquis, 
 but did not satisfy his desires. He did 
 not seem to understand the honorary na 
 ture of his major-generalship, and expect 
 ed the rank to be accompanied by a com 
 mand. It is true he has said," writes 
 Washington, " that he is young and inex- 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 perienced, but at the same time has al 
 ways accompanied it with a hint that, so 
 soon as I shall think him fit for the com 
 mand of a division, he shall be ready to 
 enter upon the duties of it, and in the 
 meantime has offered his services for a 
 smaller command ; to which I may add, 
 that he has actually applied to me, by 
 direction, he says, from Mr. Hancock, for 
 commissions for his two aids-de-camp." 
 Washington was perplexed by the perti 
 nacity of the young and ardent French 
 man, and asked for instructions from Con 
 gress. That body replied that Lafayette s 
 appointment was only honorary, and that 
 Washington was at liberty to use his own 
 judgment in regard to the bestowal of a 
 command. The young marquis was ac 
 cordingly left for the present in the en 
 joyment only of the rank of a major-gen 
 eral, while he served in the army as a 
 volunteer. 
 
 Lafayette is described as being at this 
 early period nearly six feet high, large 
 but not corpulent, and not very elegant 
 in person, his shoulders being broad and 
 high. His features were irregular, his 
 forehead remarkably high, his nose large 
 and long ; his eyebrows projected promi 
 nently over his eyes, which were full of 
 fire, and of a hazel color. He spoke but 
 few words of broken English/ 11 
 
 Baron DE KALB, who came over from 
 France with Lafayette, was also (though 
 subsequently to the appointment of the 
 marquis) made a major-general. The ser 
 vices of most of the other French officers, 
 howeveiyvvho accompanied them,were not 
 accepted, and they returned home. 
 
 * Timelier. 
 
 Another distinguished foreigner soon 
 presented himself at the headquarters of 
 the command er-in-chief. " Count Pulaski, 
 of Poland, an officer famous throughout 
 Europe for his bravery and conduct in 
 defence of the liberties of his country 
 against the three great invading powers 
 of Russia, Austria, and Prussia, will have 
 the honor of delivering this into your ex 
 cellency s hands," were the words of Doc 
 tor Franklin, in the letter written by him 
 at Paris to Washington, introducing the 
 illustrious Pole. 
 
 Count CASIMIR PULASKI, in the rebellion 
 against King Stanislaus Augustus, of Po 
 land (who, as a creature of the empress 
 Catharine II., was upheld on the throne 
 against the wishes of the nation), had al 
 ready given proof of his devotion to lib 
 erty. His father had sacrificed his life in 
 the same cause, and the son succeeded 
 him as the leader of the insurgents ; but, 
 failing to gather a sufficient force to re 
 sist the efforts of Russia, in conjunction 
 with the Polish king, to subdue his coun 
 try, young Pulaski determined to possess 
 himself of the person of Stanislaus, and 
 compel him to head the people in their 
 struggle for independence. Accordingly, 
 Pulaski, with thirty-nine bold associates, 
 entered Warsaw, seized the king, and were 
 carrying him off, when the guard came 
 up and rescued the royal prisoner. Pu- 
 laski s meager force of patriots was soon 
 after beaten by the combined armies of 
 Russia and Prussia, and he himself forced 
 to fly from the country. He subsequent 
 ly joined the Turks, in whose service he 
 fought against his old enemies the Rus 
 sians. When the war was over, Pulaski 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] COUNT CASIMIR PULASKL BURGOYNE S ADVANCE. 
 
 509 
 
 went to Paris, where he met Franklin, by 
 whom, on his resolving to go to America, 
 he was commended, as we have seen, to 
 Washington. 
 
 The commander-in-chief proposed that 
 Pulaski should have the command of the 
 cavalry, in which hitherto there had been 
 no officer of higher rank than colonel. 
 GeneralJosephReed had been offered the 
 appointment, but had declined. Washing 
 ton recommended Pulaski for the com 
 mand, saying to the president of Congress : 
 " This gentleman, we are told, has been, 
 
 like us, engaged in defending the liberty 
 and independence of his country, and has 
 sacrificed his fortune to his zeal for those 
 objects. He derives from hence a title 
 to our respect, that ought to operate in 
 his favor, as far as the good of the ser 
 vice will permit." 
 
 Count Pulaski was raised to the rank 
 of brigadier-general by Congress, and, af 
 ter the battle of the Brandywine, given 
 the command of the cavalry, in accord 
 ance with the suggestion made by the 
 commander-in-chief. 
 
 CHAPTER LI I. 
 
 Burgoyne s Progress. General Schuyler moves his Camp to Fort Miller. Alarm of the Country. Schuyler rebukes the 
 Cowards. His Efforts for Defence. Burgoyne rallies the Savages. Unchecked Ferocity. Story of Jane M Crea. 
 
 Burgoyne horrified. Impotent Attempt to punish the Murderers. The Effect of the Tragedy upon the Country. 
 
 Burgoyne pushes on to Fort Edward. The Americans retire to Stilhvater. The British besiege Fort Stanwix. A 
 Summons unheeded. Peter Gansevoort in Command. Old Herkitner to the Rescue. A Struggle. A Fratricidal 
 Fight. The Patriots in Possession of the Field. Death of Herkimer. Schuyler sends Relief to the Patriots on the 
 Mohawk. 
 
 1777, 
 
 GENERAL BURGOYNE continued his 
 toilsome march toward the Hudson, 
 and so slow was his progress, that he did 
 not reach Fort Anne till the end of July, 
 On his approach, General Schuyler aban 
 doned his position at Moses creek, and 
 moved down the Hudson to Fort Miller. 
 The inhabitants of the country were still 
 in great alarm, and fled from their houses 
 and their farms, abandoning to the enemy 
 their flocks and ripening harvests as ths 
 British advanced. The people even in 
 Albany were panic-stricken, and called 
 upon Schuyler for protection. Vexed at 
 their unmanly fears, Schuyler strove to 
 
 inspire them with greater fortitude. " Is 
 it," he writes, " becoming rational beings, 
 when a misfortune has happened to them, 
 to despond and not to counteract the evil ? 
 Surely not; and, if the militia would do 
 their duty, we should soon make the en 
 emy repent their ever having come into 
 the country, and retreat with infinitely 
 more loss than we have experienced ; but 
 if the militia will sit still, folding their 
 arms, and not make use of those exer 
 tions which God has put in their power 
 to make use of for their own defence, they 
 certainly will become the victims of an 
 enemy whose very mercies are cruelty." 
 
510 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPAKT n. 
 
 General Schuyler in the meantime was 
 unwearied in his efforts to bring all the 
 resources of the country to bear in its de 
 fence. He wrote the most pressing let 
 ters to the governors of New England, to 
 ,he committees of safety, and to Washing 
 ton, asking for reinforcements. From the 
 commander-in-chief he soon received the 
 encouraging response that he would de 
 spatch General Lincoln, of Massachusetts, 
 to use his great influence in calling out 
 the militia of New England ; and Colonel 
 Morgan, with his riflemen, to protect the 
 country against the barbarous Indian al 
 lies of the British. 
 
 General Burgoyne had gathered to 
 gether a large force of Indian warriors. 
 To those which he had brought with him 
 from Canada were now added the Otta- 
 w r as and allied tribes. It was supposed 
 by the British government that these sav 
 ages would terrify the country, and such 
 had been its object in employing them. 
 Burgoyne, naturally a humane person, 
 had hoped to keep the cruel instincts of 
 the Indians in check by the exercise of 
 military discipline, and the influence of 
 the French-Canadians who led them on. 
 These wild denizens of the forest fully 
 served the purpose designed of inspiring 
 terror, but it was soon found impractica 
 ble to keep them within the constraints 
 of civilized warfare. A tragic incident 
 now occured, which proved how useless 
 had been Burgoyne s attempt to tame the 
 ferocity of his Indian allies. The British 
 army had reached Fort Anne, and was 
 preparing to move on to Fort Edward. 
 The Americans had retired with their 
 main body, leaving a rear-guard at the 
 
 fort, ready to evacuate it on the approach 
 of the enemy in force. 
 
 Near Fort Edward lived a Mrs. M- Neil, 
 who, being a royalist in sentiment and a 
 kinswoman of General Fraser, remained, 
 awaiting without alarm the approach of 
 the British troops, while most of the in 
 habitants were flying. With Mrs. M-Neil 
 there lingered one, however, who, though 
 belonging to an American family, did net 
 share in the anxious alarms of her coun 
 trymen. This was Jane M Crea, the daugh 
 ter of a Scotch Presbyterian clergyman, 
 of New Jersey. Her father was dead, and 
 she had gone to live with a brother resi 
 ding near Fort Edward, but who, as he 
 was a patriot, had abandoned his home 
 on the approach of the enemy, and fled 
 to Albany. He strove to persuade his 
 sister to accompany him, but without sue 
 cess. He wrote to her again and again, 
 to entreat her to join him, but she still 
 lingered behind. She was now a guest 
 of Mrs. M Neil, and, like that lady, fear 
 lessly awaited the approach of the Brit 
 ish, for she knew that she had one among 
 them who would protect her to the ut 
 most of his power. This was her lover. 
 
 In the neighborhood of her brother s 
 home at Fort Edward there lived a youth 
 of the name of David Jones. He and 
 Jane M Crea became lovers, and were be 
 trothed. His family, however, were loy 
 alists, while hers were wings ; and, when 
 war broke out, a separation took place. 
 Young Jones volunteered to serve in the 
 royal army, and, leaving his betrothed at 
 the home of her patriot brother, went to 
 Canada, where he received the king s com- 
 mission as a lieutenant. Having joined 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE STORY OF JANE M CREA. 
 
 Burgoyne, he was now marching, with the 
 division under General Fraser, toward his 
 former home, and with eager expectation 
 of meeting his beloved. 
 
 As rumors reached MissM Crea s broth 
 er, at Albany, of the advance of the ene 
 my, and of the terror with which their 
 savage allies were filling the whole coun 
 try, he sent a peremptory command to 
 his sister to go down to him. She finally 
 though reluctantly consented, and pre 
 pared to leave, in company with several 
 families, in a large batteau, which w r as 
 about to sail. On the morning of the day 
 proposed for departure, the whole region 
 was suddenly alarmed by the intelligence 
 that some of Burgoyne s Indians were 
 prowling in the neighborhood. 
 
 The home of Mrs. M Neil was one of 
 the most exposed, and the household was 
 soon thrown into great consternation by 
 a negro-boy, who came running in, cry 
 ing that the Indians were close by, and 
 then scampered away to the fort. Before 
 the people in the house could hide them 
 selves, the savages had entered. Seizing 
 Mrs. McNeil and Miss M Crea, the Indians 
 dividing into t\vo parties, each with a 
 prize bore them off toward Burgoyne s 
 camp. Those who had charge of Miss 
 M Crea had not gone far, when they halt 
 ed at a spring. Here the Indians quar 
 relled among themselves for the posses 
 sion of their captive. All their savage 
 ferocity was aroused ; and one, in his wild 
 rage, settled the dispute by killing the 
 poor girl. They then tomahawked her, 
 and bore her scalp as a trophy to the 
 British camp. :i: 
 
 * Wilkinson. 
 
 This is the commonly-received account 
 of the tragic event. There are, however, 
 other versions of the sad story. Every 
 annalist has his own. One tells us that 
 the fatal shot came from the Americans 
 at Fort Edward, who, observing the In 
 dians escaping with their prize, fired at 
 them, and unfortunately killed the fair 
 captive, whereupon the savages immedi 
 ately scalped her. Another reports that 
 the Indians had been hired by Lieutenant 
 Jones to bring his betrothed to the British 
 camp, and that in their quarrel for the re 
 ward (a keg of rum) they tomahawked 
 her. This is the more popular version ; 
 but, as it was solemnly denied by Jones 
 himself, who asserted his entire ignorance 
 of the affair until he beheld the reeking 
 scalp of the victim, it should no longer 
 be accepted. 
 
 Burgoyne was no less horrified than 
 every other civilized being at this act of 
 savage ferocity. He determined, more 
 over, to punish the murderer. A council 
 of his Indians was called, and a demand 
 made upon them for the surrender of the 
 criminal. This, however, greatly angered 
 the savages, for he who had done the cruel 
 deed was a chief. Burgoyne would, not 
 withstanding, have still persisted, had not 
 those who were supposed to be more fa 
 miliar with the Indian character, together 
 with some of his officers (fearful lest the 
 savages might become so indignant as to 
 abandon the British alliance), persuaded 
 him no longer to urge his demand. 
 
 The story of the murder, however, was 
 everywhere told with an exaggerated ac 
 count of the complicity of the British, and 
 served to inflame the feelings of the whole 
 
512 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 country against them. " The story," says 
 Lossin;, " went abroad with all its horrid 
 
 O 
 
 embellishments; and the blood of Jane 
 M Crea pleaded eloquently for revenge. 
 Burke, in the exercise of his glowing elo 
 quence, used the story with powerful ef 
 fect in the British house of commons, and 
 made the dreadful tale familiar to the ear 
 throughout Europe." Burgoyne s civil 
 ized notions of justice, moreover, so far 
 disagreed with the sentiments of his sav 
 age allies, that they became discontented, 
 and deserted him so rapidly, that he was 
 soon left with but few Indians in camp. 
 
 General Burgoyne now reached Fort 
 Edward, while the Americans continued 
 to re tire farther down the Hudson, moving 
 first to Saratoga, and thence to Stillwater. 
 The British commander in the meantime 
 halted, to await the arrival of 
 General Phillips, with the artil 
 lery and baggage, and to receive intelli 
 gence from the detachment of the army 
 sent under Colonel St. Leger to make a 
 diversion by the way of Oswego, and with 
 whom it was intended to form a junction 
 at Albany. 
 
 Word soon came that St. Leger was 
 investing Fort Stanvvix (or Schuyler, as 
 it had been lately called) situated at the 
 head of navigation on the Mohawk river. 
 Colonel Peter Gansevoort, of Albany, who 
 had served under Montgomery at Quebec, 
 commanded the post, with a garrison of 
 seven hundred and fifty regular troops 
 from Massachusetts and New York. The 
 fort had been built during the French 
 War, and was of considerable strength, 
 but had been allowed to decay. The 
 Americans, however, had lately repaired 
 
 Aug. 3. 
 
 Aiiff, 4. 
 
 it, though not in such a manner as to 
 make its defences complete. 
 
 Colonel St. Leger now threatened the 
 post with a large and very miscellaneous 
 force, composed of nearly seventeen hun 
 dred men in all, among whom there were 
 a few British, Hessians, Canadians, and 
 American loyalists, while the majority 
 were Indian warriors, under Brant, the 
 Mohawk chief, and Sir John Johnson. 
 
 On the 3d of August, St. Leger sent in 
 a flag, with a summons to surrender, and 
 a copy of a pompous proclamation which 
 he had spread over the country. The 
 garrison took no notice of either, but re 
 solved upon defending their post. On 
 the next day, the English com 
 mander commenced the siege by 
 throwing a few bombs, and sending out 
 parties of Indians to approach close to 
 the fort, and, under cover of the trees, to 
 pick off those at work on the parapets ; 
 while at night the savages were ordered 
 to keep up a wild howl, with the view of 
 frightening the garrison. 
 
 Although the country had been panic- 
 stricken by the advance of the enemy, 
 the aged Herkimer, general of the militia 
 of Tryon county, had succeeded by great 
 efforts in gathering eight hundred men, 
 with whom he had marched to Oriskany, 
 within eight miles of the fort. He now 
 sent to inform Colonel Gansevoort of his 
 approach, and to request him to signify 
 the arrival of his messenger by firiii"- 
 
 o / 3 
 
 three guns. On hearing these signals, 
 General Herkimer proposed to force his 
 way through St. Leger s troops, to the be 
 sieged garrison. As the enemy were on 
 the alert, and had surrounded the fort, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] COLONEL ST. LEGKR BESIEGES FORT SCHUYLER. 
 
 with the view of cutting off its commu 
 nication with the neighboring country, 
 the messenger had great difficulty in 
 reaching Gansevoort. He finally succeed 
 ed by wading through a swamp supposed 
 by the enemy to be impassable, but only 
 after a long delay ; for, although he had 
 started in the night, with the hope of de 
 livering his message before morning, he 
 did not arrive until ten o clock the next 
 day. 
 
 Old Herkimer, in the meanwhile, re 
 mained at Oriskany with his militia, anx 
 iously awaiting the discharge of the three 
 guns, which were to be the signal for his 
 advance. His men chafed at the delay, 
 and their officers, sharing in their impa 
 tience, urged Herkimer to press on. The 
 veteran, with true Dutch phlegm, smoked 
 his pipe-, and did not heed their importu 
 nities. At last, two of his officers (Colo 
 nels Cox and Paris), irritated by the ob 
 stinate prudence of their cautious com 
 mander, lost all self-control, and in their 
 anger charged Herkimer with cowardice 
 and treason. The fact that he had a broth 
 er and other relatives in the ranks of the 
 enemy appeared to give some show of 
 probability to the accusation. The old 
 man, however, was true as steel, and, con 
 scious of his integrity, calmly replied, " I 
 am placed over you as a father and a 
 guardian, and shall not lead you into dif 
 ficulties from which I may not be able to 
 extricate you." His officers,notwithstand- 
 ing, persisted in their ungenerous taunts, 
 when Herkimer yielded, and gave the or 
 der to advance; but he took care to tell 
 those who were so anxious to press for 
 ward, and were so boastful of their cour- 
 G5 
 
 age, that they would probably be the first 
 to run at the sight of the enemy. 
 
 Colonel St. Leger had received intelli 
 gence of General Herkimer s approach, 
 and sent out Major Watts, with a party 
 of Johnson s Greens, Colonel Butler with 
 his Rangers, and a considerable body of 
 Indians under Brant, to oppose it. Colo 
 nel Gansevoort had observed from the 
 first this movement of the enemy, but 
 was unconscious of its object, until Her 
 kimer s messenger arrived, when it be 
 came obvious that St. Leger s object was 
 to cut off the old veteran s party. Gnnse- 
 voort immediately fired the three signal- 
 guns, and ordered out a detachment of 
 two hundred men drawn from his own 
 and Wessen s regiments, with a single iron 
 three-pounder, to make an attack upon the 
 position occupied by Sir John Johnson s 
 division, which had been weakened by 
 the detachment sent off against Herki 
 mer. 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Willett, a veteran 
 Long-islander, who had served in the 
 French Wars, and like Gansevoort fought 
 under Montgomery at Quebec, had charge 
 of this enterprise. Willett drew up his 
 men and prepared to make a sortie from 
 the fort, when the rain fell in torrents, 
 and prevented his departure. It proved, 
 however, but a summer shower, and after 
 a short delay he was able to sally out. 
 Willett s charge upon Sir John Johnson s 
 "Royal Greens" and Indian allies was so 
 impetuous, that the advanced guard was 
 pushed in upon the encampment, and the 
 whole force driven in confusion from its 
 ground. Sir John was so taken by sur 
 prise, that he had no time to put on his 
 
514 
 
 BATTLES OF AMP: RICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 regimental coat, and, thus unaccoutred, 
 strove to rail} 7 his troops. His efforts, 
 however, were unavailing, and he and his 
 Royal Greens were forced to cross the 
 river and seek refuge in St. Leger s camp 
 on the opposite bank, while the Indians 
 fled in all directions through the surround 
 ing forests. A large quantity of stores, 
 live British flags, and the papers and bag 
 gage of Sir John Johnson, fell into the 
 hands of Willett, who had not lost a sin 
 gle man in the enterprise. On his return 
 to the fort, the English flags were hoisted 
 beneath the American standard ; and his 
 men, mounting the ramparts, gave three 
 loud hurrahs. 
 
 Herkimer moved on. in no complacent 
 humor; and his undisciplined militia, shar 
 ing in the contentions of their officers, 
 followed him with little order or caution. 
 The enemy, in the meanwhile, had pre 
 pared an ambuscade. Across the road 
 by which Herkimer was advancing there 
 was a ravine, through which he would be 
 obliged to march. The enemy, on reach 
 ing this, posted their few regulars in the 
 front, toward the fort, and concealed the 
 Indians in the thick wood on each side of 
 the road. The latter were ordered to let 
 the Americans pass through the ravine, 
 and only attack them when they had 
 pushed on in the struggle with the small 
 party of British in front. In this manner 
 it was intended to surround Herkimer s 
 force, and completely hem it in front, 
 flank, and rear. 
 
 The Americans came on carelessly and 
 without suspicion. Their main body had 
 got fairly into the ravine, followed by the 
 baggage-wagons, while the rear-guard was 
 
 still some distance behind on the road, 
 when suddenly the Indians, too impatient 
 to wait for orders, shouted their terrible 
 war-whoop, and rushed impetuously from 
 their cover down upon Herkimer and his 
 men. The rear-guard immediately turned 
 and fled, leaving those in advance to bear 
 the whole brunt of the attack. General 
 Herkimer was brought down at the first 
 fire, by a musket-ball which killed his 
 horse, and shattered his own leg near the 
 knee. The brave old man, however, re 
 fused to be carried from the field, and or 
 dered his men to bear him to the foot of 
 a beech-tree near by, where, sitting on 
 his saddle, and calmly lighting his pipe, 
 he remained, giving orders. 
 
 The fight continued for more than an 
 hour with great spirit, when the enemy 
 strove to settle the engagement with a 
 charge of the bayonet. The Americans, 
 however, formed in circles, by which they 
 were enabled to present a front to their 
 assailants from all sides, and keep them 
 off by their effective musketry. The day 
 had been cloudy and unsettled, and now 
 came a heavy rain, with thunder the 
 same shower which, as we have seen, de 
 layed Willett s sortie from the fort. The 
 storm for awhile put an end to the strug 
 gle, and both parties sought a cover in 
 the woods. 
 
 During this temporary lull, the Ameri 
 cans shifted their ground, and determined 
 to change their manoeuvres. The savages 
 had been observed to await the discharge 
 of the muskets, and then rush upon each 
 man of the scattered troops while he was 
 separated from his fellows, and tomahawk 
 him. To guard against this, it was re- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] SEVERE FIGHT. DEATH OF GENERAL IIERKIMER. 
 
 515 
 
 solved by the Americans to post them 
 selves, two together, behind the trees, so 
 that when one had fired his musket and 
 prepared to reload, the other might come 
 forward ready to take his place and cover 
 his comrade. With this improvement in 
 their tactics, the Americans found the In 
 dians much less formidable, and soon got 
 so far the advantage of them, that they 
 began to lose spirit and disperse. 
 
 Major Watts now brought up a detach 
 ment of the "Johnson Gre-ens," which had 
 hitherto been kept in reserve. These 
 were men belonging to the Mohawk val 
 ley ; and, being thus brought into conflict 
 with the American patriots, among whom 
 there were not only those who were neigh 
 bors, but some even who were their kins 
 men,, the horrors of a fierce family feud 
 were added to the usual terrors of war 
 fare. The old quarrels and animosities 
 which had before occurred between those 
 taking separate sides in the early contro 
 versies and troubles of the colonies, grow 
 ing out of the dispute with the mother- 
 country, were now aroused to increased 
 fury. There was no check to passion, and 
 no scruple to forbid the shedding of blood. 
 Actual war authorized all, and neighbor 
 joined in deadly struggle with neighbor 
 without a qualm of conscience. The en 
 gagement was fierce, and the result ter 
 ribly fatal. 
 
 The battle was so pertinaciously con 
 tested on both sides, that neither seemed 
 disposed to give way. The Indian allies 
 of the British, however, were the first to 
 lose heart; and, shouting their retreating- 
 cry, " Oonah ! oonah /" these ruthless war 
 riors at length fled precipitately to the 
 
 adjoining forests. The white men heard 
 these ominous shouts of their savage con 
 federates, nnd saw their hasty retreat to 
 the woods, but nevertheless continued to 
 fight, and did not cease their deadly strug 
 gle, until the distant firing from the at 
 tack of Colonel Willett (in his sortie from 
 the fort) began to be heard ; whereupon, 
 the British commander, anxious for the 
 safety of St. Leger s camp, withdrew his 
 troops from the field, leaving the patriots 
 in possession, and marched back to rein 
 force the arch-leader of the " tories," Sir 
 John Johnson. 
 
 The victory, in the engagement thus 
 abruptly brought to a close, remained un 
 decided. The loss in killed and wound 
 ed on both sides was about equally great, 
 amounting to over three hundred each. 
 Of the American officers, Colonel Cox and 
 Captain V^an Sluyk were killed at the first 
 fire. The brave old commander, Herki- 
 mer, and the rest of the wounded, were 
 borne off the field on litters made from 
 the branches of trees. The general died 
 ten days after the battle, at his own resi 
 dence, on the Mohawk river. His shat 
 tered leg was amputated, but (from the 
 complex nature of the wound) so unsuc 
 cessfully, that he never recovered from 
 the effects of the operation. He bore his 
 sufferings cheerfully, and calrny awaited 
 his death, smoking his pipe and reading 
 his Bible, to quote the graphic words of 
 an annalist, " like a Christian hero." His 
 patriotic example was greatly venerated 
 by his countrymen, and his illustrious 
 name was subsequently conferred by the 
 legislature of New York upon one of the 
 newly-formed counties of the state. 
 
516 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 The enemy had retired from the field 
 of action in such haste, that one of their 
 officers (Major Watts, who was severely 
 wounded) was left for dead. He there 
 remained for two days, when he was dis 
 covered by an Indian scout, near a spring 
 of water, where he had crawled to quench 
 his burning thirst, and was borne into St. 
 Leger s camp. 
 
 When General Schuyler received in 
 telligence, at Stillwater, of this tragic con 
 test, he despatched a force of eight hun 
 dred continental troops, under the com 
 mand of Brigadier-General Learned, to 
 reinforce the patriots. 
 
 Aug. 13, 
 
 A few days subsequently, General Ar 
 nold volunteered his services, which were 
 accepted by Schuyler, who or 
 dered him to proceed immedi 
 ately to the " German Flats," where he 
 was to assume the chief command, and, 
 calling out the militia of the neighboring 
 country, relieve Fort Schuyler, if practi 
 cable ; otherwise, to adopt such precau 
 tionary measures as would most effectu 
 ally cover the settlements of the Mohawk 
 valley from the ravages of General Bur- 
 goyne s advancing British and Germans, 
 and their more terrible Indian allies, who 
 filled the countrv with consternation 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 General Burgoyne in Straits. His Wants. He seeks Relief by an Expedition to Bennington. Opposition of Officers. 
 Major Skene, of Skcnesborough, carries the Day. The Force. The Hessians and Colonel Baume. Small Means 
 and Great Ends. The Slow Germans. The Plodding Baume. A Capture. Encouragement and Discouragement. 
 The Americans on the Alert. General Stark and his Quarrels. His Influence. Colonel Seth Warner and the 
 Green-Mountain Boys. Stark comes up with the Enemy. A Successful Skirmish. A Soaking Rain. Breyman and 
 his Lumbering Germans. Intrenchments of the Enemy. A Fighting Parson. Molly Stark s Prospects of Widow 
 hood. The Fight. Victory. Losses. " One Little Hair" too late. Stark s Glory and Rewards. 
 
 1777, 
 
 GENERAL BURGOYNE had so far ex 
 hausted his resources in his difficult 
 march to Fort Edward, and Schuyler s 
 efforts to deprive him of the natural sup 
 plies of the country had been so success 
 ful, that he found himself unable to pros 
 ecute his onward route to Albany, where, 
 forming a junction with Colonel St.Leger, 
 he proposed to concentrate his forces. His 
 chief want was horses with which to draw 
 his baggage-wagons and artillery, and to 
 mount his cavalry regiments. Having 
 learned that Bennington, in the " New- 
 Hampshire grants" (now Vermont), was 
 used by the Americans as a deposite for 
 stores, and that it contained not only live 
 stock in abundance, but large quantities 
 of corn and flour, he determined to send 
 an expedition against the place. General 
 Phillips, of the artillery, arid Baron Rei- 
 desel, who commanded the Hessians, op 
 posed the enterprise. They contended 
 
 that, to send a detachment into the heart 
 of the enemy s country, would be to in 
 cur too great a danger. Burgoyne him 
 self thought that a large force might be 
 required ; but Major Skene, of Skenes- 
 borough, who pretended thoroughly to 
 know the country and the sentiments of 
 the people, declared that the friends of 
 the British cause were as five to one, and 
 that they only required the appearance 
 of a protecting power to show themselves. 
 General Burgoyne accordingly, trusting 
 to Skene s apparently superior knowledge, 
 followed his advice, and despatched but a 
 small force to Bennington, consisting of 
 about five or six hundred men in all, with 
 two light fieldpieces. Of this small de 
 tachment, one hundred were Indians, a 
 few British and Canadians, but the great 
 er part Hessians, among whom were two 
 hundred dismounted dragoons beloninntr 
 
 to Reidesel s regiment. 
 
 Lieutenant-Colo- 
 
 517 
 
518 
 
 nel Baume, a German, was appointed to 
 the command ; and Major Skene was sent 
 to accompany him, and aid in the execu 
 tion of an enterprise of which he was the 
 chief instigator. 
 
 The force was meager, but it was ex 
 pected to accomplish great purposes, as 
 may be inferred from Burgoyne s instruc 
 tions to Lieutenant-Colonel Baume, who 
 was ordered to proceed through the New- 
 Hampshire grants; cross the mountains; 
 scour the country from Rockingham to 
 Otter creek ; to get horses, carriages, and 
 cattle, and mount Reidesel s regiment of 
 dragoons ; to go down Connecticut river 
 as far as Brattleborough, and return by 
 the great road to Albany, there to meet 
 General Burgoyne ; to endeavor to make 
 the country believe it was the advanced 
 body of the general s army, who was to 
 cross Connecticut river and proceed to 
 Boston, and that at Springfield they were 
 to be joined by the troops from Rhode 
 Island. All officers, civil and military, 
 acting under the Congress, were to be 
 made prisoners. He (Baume) was to tax 
 the towns where they halted, with such 
 articles as they wanted, and take host 
 ages for the performance. " You are to 
 bring all horses," adds Burgoyne, "fit to 
 mount the dragoons or to serve as battal 
 ion horses for the troops, with as many 
 saddles and bridles as can be found. The 
 number of horses requisite, besides those 
 for the dragoons, ought to be thirteen 
 hundred ; if you can bring more, so much 
 the better. The horses must be tied in 
 strings of ten each, in order that one man 
 may lead ten horses." 
 
 With these great designs in view, Lieu- 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [TAUT n. 
 
 Aug. 13. 
 
 tenant- Colonel Baume, with his small 
 force, set out on his expedition. 
 General Burgoyne, at the same 
 time, moved his army along the eastern 
 shore of the Hudson, and encamped near 
 ly opposite to Saratoga,, where, having 
 thrown a bridge of boats across the river, 
 he sent over his advanced guard, under 
 General Fraser. 
 
 Baume had not a long march before 
 him, Bennington being only about twen 
 ty-four miles to the eastward of the Hud 
 son, but he and his heavy Germans were 
 slow in their movements. "The worst 
 British regiment in the service," says Sted- 
 man, the English military annalist, " would 
 with ease have inarched two miles for 
 their one." Rapidity of motion was not 
 one of the virtues of the German troops. 
 They were not only naturally less active 
 than the British, but were weighed down 
 by the monstrous accoutrements intro 
 duced by Frederick the Great into the 
 Prussian armies. Their hats and swords 
 alone weighed nearly as much as the en 
 tire equipment of a British soldier ! The 
 Germans were the last men who should 
 have been selected for attempting a sur 
 prise, which requires above all things ce 
 lerity of movement. 
 
 Baume went on. plodding his way slow 
 ly but faithfully. On the first night he 
 reached Cambridge, where his advanced 
 guard of Indians and Canadians succeed 
 ed in dispersing a small party of Ameri 
 cans guarding some cattle. The follow 
 ing day he got possession of the mill of 
 " Sa.ncook," with a large supply of "very 
 fine Hour," a thousand bushels of wheat, 
 twenty barrels of salt, and about " one 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE MARCH TO BENNINGTON. GENERAL STARK. 
 
 519 
 
 thousand pounds of pearlash and potash," 
 which the Americans, flying before him, 
 had left as a prize behind them. From 
 this place, on the morning of the 14th of 
 August, he writes a despatch to General 
 Burgoyne, which, upon the whole, is quite 
 encouraging. " By five prisoners taken 
 here," he says, " they agree that from fif 
 teen to eighteen hundred are at Benning- 
 ton, but are supposed to leave it on our 
 approach People are flocking in hour 
 ly, but want to be armed." There were, 
 however, already some drawbacks to his 
 successful progress. The Americans were 
 breaking down the bridges, and delaying 
 his march ; and the Indians were giving 
 him no little trouble. " The savages," he 
 declares, " can not be controlled ; they 
 ruin and take everything they please." 
 With their superior skill in horse-steal 
 ing, the Indian allies were the first to get 
 possession of these animals ; and, unless 
 they received hard cash for them, they 
 would either destroy or drive them off. 
 Baume, notwithstanding, is still hopeful, 
 and adds, in his deliberate way, " 1 will 
 proceed so far to-day as to fall on the en 
 emy to-morrow." 
 
 The Americans, however, were vigilant, 
 and were preparing to receive the lieu 
 tenant-colonel and his Germans. Ever 
 since the success of General Burgoyne at 
 Ticonderoga, the eastern states had been 
 making strenuous efforts to protect their 
 frontiers from invasion. New Hampshire, 
 being the first exposed, was foremost in 
 preparing to defend herself. The militia 
 of the state was called out. and a detach 
 ment under General Stark ordered im 
 mediately to the frontier. 
 
 Stark had only accepted the command 
 of the New-Hampshire militia on the con 
 dition of being left at liberty to serve or 
 not under a continental commander as 
 he pleased. The general was vexed by 
 the treatment which he had received at 
 the hands of Congress, that body having, 
 by the appointment of younger and less- 
 experienced men above him, slighted, as 
 he thought, his superior claims. He had 
 therefore left the general service in dis 
 gust, but was too devoted a patriot to 
 abandon his country in the crisis of its 
 trials ; and, when his native state was 
 threatened, he did not hesitate to come 
 forward in her defence. 
 
 JOHN STARK had, while a youth, fought 
 in the French wars. At the first sound 
 of the cannon at Lexington, he had left 
 his sawmill, and, calling together the back 
 woodsmen of New Hampshire, had hast 
 ened to Boston, w T here he was foremost 
 in the struggle at Bunker s hill. He had 
 served in Canada under Montgomery and 
 Arnold; and he had shared in the victo 
 ry at Trenton under Washington. Al 
 though these services may have been for 
 gotten by Congress in the strife of parti 
 sanship, they were held in fresh remem 
 brance by his own state. 
 
 Stark s influence in New Hampshire 
 was so great, that his appointment was 
 no sooner made, than fourteen hundred 
 men rallied to his standard. These were 
 not raw militia, but brave and true sol 
 diers, well officered, who had already, like 
 their veteran commander, seen service. 
 
 Stark s resolve to act independently of 
 the orders of any continental command 
 er was soon put to the test. General 
 
520 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 Lincoln, who had been sent by Washing 
 ton to the North, to aid Schuyler, had 
 now reached Manchester, some twenty 
 miles north of Bennington. Here Stark 
 met him, and was ordered to join Schuy 
 ler at Stillwater. With this order, how 
 ever, he refused compliance, confronting 
 Lincoln with the "condition of service" 
 which the state of New Hampshire had 
 accepted. The matter was finally referred 
 to Congress for adjustment, when that 
 body resolved " that the council of New 
 Hampshire be informed that the instruc 
 tions which General Stark says he has re 
 ceived from them are destructive of mili 
 tary subordination, and highly prejudicial 
 to the common cause at this crisis ; and 
 that therefore they be desired to instruct 
 General Stark to conform himself to the 
 same rules which other general officers 
 of the militia are subject to, whenever 
 they are called out at the expense of the 
 United States." 
 
 Stark, however, was a plain man, and 
 had no fastidious regard for the nice dis 
 tinctions of legislative privileges. Pie 
 would do everything, he said, to promote 
 the public good, but nothing that was in 
 consistent with his own honor, and went 
 on, resolutely bent upon the sole object 
 of defending his state, now threatened 
 with danger. Having heard of the ad 
 vance of Lieutenant-Colonel Baume, the 
 veteran Stark hurried back to Benning 
 ton, where he was soon followed by Colo 
 nel Seth Warner and his " Green-Mount 
 ain Boys," who had returned to New 
 Hampshire after St. Glair s surrender and 
 retreat from Ticonderoga. 
 , On reachingBenuington,Stark learned 
 
 Aug. 14. 
 
 that Baume s Indians were at Cambridge, 
 twelve miles north of him. He immedi 
 ately sent forward Lieutenant- Colonel 
 Gregg, with two hundred men, to oppose 
 them ; and the next morning, 
 having rallied his brigade and 
 the militia, and being reinforced by War 
 ner, who had come into Bennington with 
 his men drenched by a soaking rain, he 
 inarched himself with all speed to meet 
 the enemy. Warner s regiment was left 
 behind to "dry" and refresh themselves. 
 Stark had got but seven miles on his way, 
 when he met Gregg and his party in full 
 retreat, with Baume s force in pursuit, 
 only a mile in their rear. 
 
 Stark at once halted his troops, and 
 drew them up in order of battle. The 
 enemy coming up and seeing his strength, 
 did likewise, taking their position on a 
 hill very advantageously situated. Stark 
 confined himself to sending out small par 
 ties to skirmish with their advance-guards, 
 and with such good effect, that thirty of 
 the enemy were killed or wounded, with 
 out any loss on his own side. As his 
 ground was not suitable for a general ac 
 tion, the American commander withdrew 
 his troops a mile farther back, and en 
 camped. The whole of the fol 
 lowing day was mostly lost, for 
 it rained heavily from morning till night, 
 A council of war, however, was called, at 
 which a plan of action was agreed upon. 
 Two detachments were to be sent to at 
 tack the enemy in the rear, while a third 
 should oppose them in front, Lieuten 
 ant-Colonel Baume, in the meanwhile, 
 took advantage of this pause to send to 
 Burgoj iie for a reinforcement ; and Colo- 
 
 15, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF BENNINGTON. 
 
 521 
 
 nelBreyman was immediately despatched 
 with five hundred men to his aid. His 
 progress, however, was so slow, with his 
 lumbering Germans, that, although he had 
 but twenty-four miles to march, he took 
 over two days to accomplish it ! " This 
 Breyman," says the author of "KnigMs 
 History of England? "like most of his school, 
 was a pedant and a formalist, who had no 
 notion of marching, even through a rough 
 country, except with all the order and 
 precision of the drill-ground : he halted 
 ten times an hour to dress his ranks." Of 
 course, such a laggard was not likely to 
 be up to time, and we shall find that his 
 arrival was too late for him to render any 
 aid. 
 
 Baume, in the meantime, continued by 
 means of intrenchments to strengthen the 
 position which he had chosen, upon the 
 high ground, within a bend of the little 
 Wallormscook river. Although the rainy 
 weather kept the two opposing parties, 
 for the most part, within their encamp 
 ments, there was an occasional skirmish 
 between them ; and the Indians were so 
 frequently picked off by the New-Hamp 
 shire riflemen, that they be^an to desert 
 
 / / cj 
 
 Baume, telling him that they would not 
 stay, because the woods were filled with 
 Yankees.* 
 
 General Stark, before leaving Benning- 
 ton, had sent expresses in all directions 
 throughout the country, to summon the 
 militia, and they now began to come in. 
 Before break of day on the morning of 
 the IGth of August, Colonel Symonds 
 marched into camp with a considerable 
 body from Berkshire county, Massachu- 
 
 * Lossing. 
 GG 
 
 Aug. 16. 
 
 setts. Among the volunteers was a war 
 like clergyman of the name of Allen. So 
 impatient was he for the fight, that he no 
 sooner arrived, than he presented himself 
 to Stark, saying, " General, the people of 
 Berkshire have been so often summoned 
 without being allowed to fight, that they 
 have resolved, unless you now give them 
 a chance, not to turn out again." " You 
 wouldn t surely wish to march while it is 
 dark and raining !" replied Stark. " No, 
 not just now," answered Allen. " Well," 
 responded the general, " if the Lord will 
 only give us once more some sunshine, 
 and I do not give you fighting enough, 
 I ll never ask you to come out again." 
 
 As the day advanced, the rain ceased, 
 and the sun shone brightly ; so 
 Stark prepared to begin his op 
 erations against the enemy. In accord 
 ance with the plan agreed upon with his 
 officers on the previous day, the general 
 sent Colonel Nichols, with two hundred 
 men, in the rear of the enemy s left, and 
 Colonel Herrick, with three hundred, in 
 the rear of their right, with orders to join 
 their forces and make a simultaneous at 
 tack. To the right, Colonels Hubbard 
 and Stickney were detached, with two 
 hundred men, while a hundred were sent 
 to the front, in order to draw the atten 
 tion of the enemy in that direction. The 
 command of the main body the general 
 reserved for himself, with the view, as 
 soon as the action began, to push his men 
 forward and make a charge in front. 
 
 It was three o clock in the afternoon 
 when tl>e attack was begun, by the ad 
 vance of Colonel Nichols upon the rear 
 of Baume s intrenchments. "Forward 1 " 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 shouted Stark, at the sound of the first 
 gun, as he led his troops on against the 
 enemy s front. " See there, men !" con 
 tinued he ; " there are the red-coats ! Be 
 fore night they are ours, or Molly Stark 
 will be a widow !" And his brave fellows, 
 responding to this homely speech of their 
 general with a loud huzza, pushed for 
 ward. In a few minutes the action was 
 general. "It lasted two hours," wrote 
 Stark, " the hottest I ever saw in my life. 
 It represented one continued clap of thun 
 der." The Indians were the first to give 
 way. Finding that they were about to 
 be hemmed in by the Americans in the 
 rear, they fled, yelling and jingling their 
 " cow-bells," but received a fire by which 
 three were killed and two wounded as 
 they ran between the two detachments 
 of Nichols and Herrick, that were closing 
 to form a junction. 
 
 The Germans, nevertheless, spiritedly 
 resisted, clinging to their guns within the 
 oreastworks as long as their ammunition 
 lasted ; and then strove to defend them 
 selves with sword in hand, and with the 
 brave Baume at their head. The Ameri 
 cans, however, though armed only with 
 their " brown firelocks," and with hardly 
 a bayonet, mounted the fortifications and 
 assailed them with such dashing gallant 
 ry, that the enemy were obliged to give 
 way. " Our martial courage," said Stark, 
 " was too hard for them." After a severe 
 loss in killed and wounded, amon<; the 
 
 o 
 
 latter of whom was Baume himself, they 
 were driven from their around, leaving 
 
 O O 
 
 their artillery and baggage behind them. 
 Stark s militiamen, who had been prom 
 ised by him all the plunder taken in the 
 
 enemy s camp, now left their ranks to se 
 cure their booty. The retreating Ger 
 mans, hearing of the advance of Colonel 
 Breyman with a reinforcement, began to 
 rally, and might have renewed the en 
 gagement to the disadvantage of the un 
 disciplined Americans, scattered about in 
 their search for plunder, had not Colonel 
 Warner s regiment, which had been left 
 behind at Bennington, luckily come up 
 at this moment, and began the attack 
 afresh. Stark, too, gathered as many of 
 his dispersed men as he could, and, form 
 ing them, pushed forward. The battle 
 was renewed, and continued obstinately 
 on both sides until sunset. The enemy, 
 however, were forced to. retreat, with 
 Stark close at their heels, who pursued 
 them until dark. " Had day," said he, 
 "lasted an hour longer, we should have 
 taken the whole body of them." 
 
 The laggard Breyman came up with 
 his slow Germans only in time to meet 
 Baume s force in full retreat. " Had he 
 been one little hour sooner, the fate of the 
 day," according to the British authorities, 
 "might have been different; but now he 
 had nothing to do but to put the fugi 
 tives of Baume s detachment into some 
 order, and retreat to the place he had 
 come from." 
 
 Seven hundred of the enemy were ta 
 ken prisoners, among whom was Baume, 
 who soon after died of his wounds. Two 
 hundred and seven of them were left 
 dead on the field. The Americans had 
 about one hundred killed and nearly the 
 same number wounded. Stark himself 
 lost " his horse, bridle, and saddle," in the 
 action. Four pieces of brass cannon, sev- 
 
UKVOLUTIONARY.] STARR S REWARD. A COURT OF INQUIRY. 
 
 eral hundred stands of amis, and a mis 
 cellaneous collection of brass -barrelled 
 drums, stores, swords, and baggage-wag 
 ons, fell into the hands of the Americans. 
 These (or their value) were claimed by 
 Stark for his troops, since, as he declares 
 in his official account, that he promised 
 " the soldiers should have all the plunder 
 taken in the enemy s camp." 
 
 The Americans were everywhere great 
 ly inspirited by this triumph at Benning- 
 ton. The gloom, which had previously so 
 darkened the hopes of the people in the 
 North, now began to disappear before 
 
 this dawn of victory in the East. The mi 
 litia became more self-reliant, and proved 
 themselves more worthy of the trust of 
 others. They had succeeded in overcom 
 ing European regulars, and had put to 
 flight the much-dreaded Indian savages 
 arrayed against them. 
 
 General Stark s share in the victory 
 was handsomely acknowledged. Con 
 gress, forgetting their .own wrongs, now 
 thought only of his rights, and, appoint 
 ing him a brigadier-general in the conti 
 nental army, reinstated him in the posi 
 tion which he claimed. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 Court of Inquiry upon Generals Schuyler and St. Clair. Sohuyler superseded. Washington declines to nominate a Suc 
 cessor. Unpopularity of Schuyler, and its Causes. General Gates appointed to the Command of the Northern De 
 partment. Courtesy of Gates and Schuyler. Schuyler chagrined. Gates agreeably disappointed. Gatcs s Attack 
 upon General Burgoync with his Pen. Military Rhetoric. Burgoyne s Answer. Movements of General Arnold. 
 A Master of Grandiloquence. A Yankee Trick. Yan Yost Cuyler. The Success of his Mission. The British for 
 saken by the Indians. An Indian Practical Joke. Fort Schuyler relieved. Arnold hastens to join Gates. 
 
 1777. 
 
 CONGRESS had determined that 
 
 Aug. 1. 
 
 a court of inquiry should be held, 
 to investigate the conduct of Generals 
 Schuyler and St. Clair, in consequence of 
 the surrender of the posts at Ticondero- 
 ga and Mount Independence. They were 
 accordingly ordered, though the 
 time was not yet specified, to 
 hold themselves in readiness to proceed 
 to headquarters. In the meantime, it was 
 resolved to supersede General Schuyler 
 in the command of the northern depart 
 ment. The appointment of his successor 
 was referred by Congress to Washington, 
 
 who, however, declined this responsibili 
 ty, telling them in reply : " The northern 
 department in a great measure has been 
 considered as separate, and more pecu 
 liarly under their direction; and the offi 
 cers commanding there always of their 
 nomination. I have never interfered fur 
 ther than merely to advise, and to give 
 such aids as were in my power, on the re 
 quisitions of those officers. The present 
 situation of that department is delicate 
 and critical, and the choice of an officer 
 to the command may involve very inter 
 esting and important consequences." 
 
524 
 
 T.ATTLKS OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 When Congress authorized Washing 
 ton to make the appointment, the New- 
 En ^l and delegates were so anxious that 
 
 O o 
 
 their favorite should receive it, that they 
 Avrote to the commander-in-chief, urging 
 him to appoint General Gates, and ex 
 pressing the opinion that "no man will 
 be more likely to restore harmony, order, 
 and discipline, and retrieve our affairs in 
 that quarter." This attempt to influence 
 his judgment probably induced Washing 
 ton to decline all interference in the mat 
 ter. On the question being again brought 
 up before Congress, Gates received the 
 appointment. 
 
 General Schuyler, of whose patriotism 
 and active devotion to the interests of his 
 country there could be no doubt, was ex 
 ceedingly unpopular with New England. 
 The cause has been attributed to the old 
 quarrel growing out of the dispute in re 
 gard to the boundary-line between his 
 native colony of New York and that of 
 Massachusetts Bay. Schuyler had served 
 as a boundary-commissioner., and, in his 
 zealous defence of the claims of New York, 
 is supposed to have incurred the ill feel 
 ing of New England. It is far more prob 
 able, however, that the formal manners, 
 and the claims to social distinction of the 
 more aristocratic " ; New-Yorker," did not 
 accord with the rude simplicity of the 
 equality-loving "Yankee." Gates, who 
 was of a social turn, and easy in his man 
 ners, on the other hand, succeeded in con 
 ciliating the New-England people, and 
 possessed at this time all their love and 
 confidence. His appointment, therefore, 
 was gladly welcomed ; and, although witli 
 the success at Bennington, and the diffi- 
 
 Ang. 19, 
 
 culties then in the way of Burgoyne, by 
 the strenuous exertions of Schuyler, the 
 army and the inhabitants of the North and 
 East had got rid of much of their panic, 
 there is no doubt that the appearance of 
 Gates served greatly to quicken the res 
 toration of their confidence and courage. 
 
 Schuyler courteously received Gates 
 when he presented himself at the camp 
 at Van Schaick s island (where 
 the Mohawk enters the Hudson), 
 to assume the command of the army. Ee- 
 pressing his vexation at the treatment of 
 Congress, the superseded general told his 
 successor that he intended to remain in 
 the camp for the present, and begged him 
 to avail himself freely of his services. 
 
 That Schuyler was deeply wounded is 
 apparent from his letter to Washington. 
 " It is," writes he, " matter of extreme cha 
 grin to me to be deprived of the command, 
 at a time when soon, if ever, we shall 
 probably be enabled to meet the enemy 
 when we are on the point of taking 
 ground where they must attack to disad 
 vantage, should our force be inadequate 
 to facing them in the field when an op 
 portunity will in all probability occur, in 
 which I might evince that I am not what 
 Congress have too plainly insinuated, by 
 the resolution taking the command from 
 me." 
 
 General Gates, when first setting out, 
 was not much encouraged by the pros 
 pect of his northern command ; but when 
 he reached the camp, he found that the 
 tide of affairs had taken a more favorable 
 turn. " Upon my leaving Philadelphia," 
 he wrote to Washington, " the prospect 
 this way appeared most gloomy ; but the 
 
Hi; VOLUTION ART.] 
 
 GATES S CHARGES AGAINST BURGOYNE. 
 
 525 
 
 severe checks the enemy have met at 
 Bennington and Tryon county have giv 
 en a more pleasing view of public affairs. 
 I can not sufficiently thank your excel 
 lency for sending Colonel Morgan s corps. 
 They will be of the greatest service to 
 the army ; for, until the late successes 
 this way, I am told it was quite panic- 
 struck by the Indians, and their tory and 
 Canadian assassins in Indian dress. Few 
 of the militia demanded are yet arrived, 
 but I hear of great numbers on their 
 march." 
 
 Gates inaugurated his command by on 
 attack with his pen on Burgoyne. That 
 general had sent in a complaint of the 
 treatment received by the prisoners ta 
 ken at Bennington. Gates retorted by 
 denouncing the employment of the Indi 
 ans, and holding Burgoyne responsible 
 for their cruelties. In the course of his 
 letter he described, in a strain of turgid 
 rhetoric, the tra.gic death of Jane M Crea, 
 and concluded by saying, " The miserable 
 fate of Miss M Crea was peculiarly aggra 
 vated by her being dressed to receive her 
 promised husband, but met her murderer, 
 employed by you!" Nor was this all; he 
 added: "Upward of one hundred men, 
 women, and children, have perished by 
 the hands of ruffians, to whom it is assert 
 ed you have paid the price of Mood /" 
 
 After Gates had elaborated his epistle, 
 he called General Lincoln and his adju 
 tant-general (Wilkinson) into his apart 
 ment, read it to them, and asked their 
 opinion. They modestly declined to give 
 it. The general, however, pressed them, 
 when they both declared, as might be ex 
 pected from the extracts which we have 
 
 given, that the letter was too personal. 
 Gates, with the usual vanity of author 
 ship, replied testily, " By G-d, I don t be 
 lieve either of you can mend it !" It was 
 therefore sent without amendment. 
 
 Burgoyne was naturally indignant at 
 the charges of Gates, and took pains, in 
 a long answer, to refute them. In regard 
 to the tragic death of Miss M Crea, he de 
 clared that it was no premeditated bar 
 barity ; that no one regretted it more 
 than himself; and that, moreover, the 
 murderer should have been executed, had 
 it not been believed that a pardon on the 
 terms to be granted would be more effi 
 cacious to prevent further outrage. As 
 for the other Indian cruelties, Burgoyne 
 denied them, and, in regard to the com 
 plicity of which he was accused, emphat 
 ically asserted "I would not be con 
 scious of the acts you presume to impute 
 to me, for the whole continent of Amer 
 ica, though the wealth of worlds was in 
 its bowels, and a paradise upon its sur 
 face." 
 
 It may be presumed that Gates himself 
 did not believe that Burgoyne was the 
 criminal which his letter would seem to 
 indicate. His object was to exaggerate 
 the cruelties of the enemy, in order to 
 excite the horror and indignation of the 
 country. He was merely availing him 
 self of what he believed to be a justifia 
 ble ruse de guerre, and it proved wondrous- 
 ly effective. Gates s exaggerated state 
 ments and rhetorical bombast accorded 
 with the excited and unreflecting senti 
 ment of the times, and his letter became 
 immensely popular. 
 
 General Arnold, who, as we have seen, 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 had gone to the relief of the garrison at 
 Fort Schuyler, soon overtook the detach 
 ment of eight hundred men, under Gen 
 eral Learned, which had preceded him. 
 On reaching Fort Dayton, at the German 
 Flats, where there was a small guard of 
 continental troops, it was found that the 
 whole force which could be mustered 
 amounted to only nine hundred and for 
 ty-six regulars and one hundred militia. 
 It was therefore deemed imprudent, with 
 so meager a force, to attempt an attack 
 upon Colonel St. Leger, who was invest 
 ing Fort Schuyler with a miscellaneous 
 body of Indians, Canadians, and regulars, 
 numbering no less than seventeen hun 
 dred. Arnold sent to Gates for reinforce 
 ments, and in the meantime tried the effi 
 cacy of a proclamation. He was a great 
 master of grandiloquence, and on the 
 present occasion outdid his usual efforts. 
 Presenting himself as the " Honorable 
 Benedict Arnold, Esquire, general and 
 commander-in-chief of the army of the 
 United States of America on the Mohawk 
 river," he proclaimed a free pardon to all 
 who joined or upheld him, " whether sav 
 ages, Germans, Americans, or Britons," 
 provided they should lay down their arms 
 and take the oath of allegiance to the 
 United States within three days. Those 
 who would not were threatened with the 
 "just vengeance of Heaven and their ex 
 asperated country," from either of which 
 no mercy was to be expected ! Colonel 
 St. Leger was denounced as a "leader of 
 a banditti of robbers, murderers, and trai 
 lers, composed of savages of America and 
 more savage Britons," who were threat 
 ening ruin and destruction to the people. 
 
 This swelling manifesto had its effect, but 
 proved less efficacious than another de 
 vice which sprang from the teeming womb 
 of Yankee ingenuity. 
 
 LieutenantrColonel Brooks, of the Ma.s- 
 sachusettsline,suggested the employment 
 of a man of the name of Hanyost Schuy 
 ler, or Yan Yost Cuyler, as an emissary 
 to be sent into the camp of the enemy, 
 with an exaggerated report of Arnold s 
 numbers, in order to alarm the Indians. 
 This fellow, who was known to be a tory, 
 had been arrested while prowling about 
 the American encampment, and was con 
 demned to be executed as a spy. He 
 was now brought before General Arnold, 
 who promised him a pardon if he would 
 perform the service required of him. He 
 readily consented, and was sent away to 
 St. Leger s camp; while, to secure his 
 fidelity, his brother was kept as a host 
 age. 
 
 Cuyler is spoken of as a half-witted 
 fellow, but he was evidently much more 
 of a rogue than a fool, as was proved by 
 the cunning with which his mission was 
 accomplished. He was, however, greatly 
 aided by some Indian confederates, one 
 of whom suggested that he should shoot 
 bullets through his coat, in order that his 
 story might appear more probable to the 
 enemy. One or two Indian accomplices 
 also agreed to follow Cuyler, and sub 
 stantiate his reports of the strength of 
 the Americans. 
 
 Cuyler accordingly presented himself 
 among the Indians before Fort Schuyler, 
 telling them how he had barely escaped 
 (of which his riddled coat was indubitable 
 proof) from the bullets of the enemy, who 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] COLONEL ST. LEGER AND HIS INDIANS. 
 
 527 
 
 pursued him and were advancing in vast 
 numbers. The savages listened unsuspi 
 ciously, and asked with alarm, * How ma 
 ny are coining?" " A thousand !" he had 
 seen in one body, answered Cuyler, and 
 "a thousand in another," and he did not 
 know " how many more," but, looking up 
 into the surrounding trees, he declared 
 that he believed " they were as numer 
 ous as the leaves." Soon came in one of 
 Cuylcr s Indian confederates, about whom 
 his fellow-savages pressed as eager listen 
 ers ; and receiving from his lips a confir 
 mation of Cuyler s story of the approach 
 of the Americans, and still more extraor 
 dinary accounts of their force, they be 
 came greatly alarmed. 
 
 Colonel St. Leger was soon conscious 
 of the agitation among his Indians, cre 
 ated by these reports. The chiefs hurried 
 to him, and, confronting him angrily, thus 
 addressed him : " You mean to sacrifice 
 us ! When we marched down, you told 
 us there would be no fighting for u*s In 
 dians ; we might go home, and smoke our 
 pipes ; whereas numbers of our warriors 
 have been killed !" St. Leger strove to 
 allay their fears and anger, promising to 
 lead them on himself against the enemy, 
 and cover them with a van of three hun 
 dred of his best troops. They appeared 
 quieted for the time, and agreed to go 
 out the next morning to choose the prop 
 er ground for a field of battle. 
 
 St. Leger went out accordingly early 
 on the following day with his Indian war 
 riors, and, having chosen his ground, drew 
 up his force. Soon, however, there came 
 an Indian, a second confederate of the 
 wily Yan Yost Cuyler, with the report 
 
 that the enemy were advancing with two 
 thousand men ; and immediately he was 
 followed by a third dusky fellow, who de 
 clared that all Burgoyne s army had been 
 cut to pieces, and that General Arnold 
 was pushing forward by rapid and forced 
 marches with three thousand men ! The 
 savages now became so pnnic-stricken, 
 that two hundred decamped immediately, 
 and the rest threatened to follow. St. 
 Leger called Sir John Johnson to his aid 
 in this emergency, but even his undoubt 
 ed influence over the Indians proved on 
 this occasion of no avail. 
 
 The savages persisting in their deter 
 mination to leave St. Leger, unless he 
 should retreat, he was forced to comply. 
 He proposed, however, to retire with de 
 liberation during the night, having first 
 sent on before him his sick, wounded, and 
 artillery. But the Indians were too im 
 patient to go, and too eager for the con 
 fusion of a hurried movement, to consent 
 to a delayed and orderly retreat. They 
 artfully kept up the alarm in the camp, 
 by causing messengers to steal away and 
 come in again, with rumors that the ene 
 my were approaching. The colonel, not 
 withstanding, resisted their importunities 
 to march, until the savages " grew furious 
 and abandoned ; seized upon the officers 
 liquor and clothes, in spite of the efforts 
 of their servants ; and became more for 
 midable," says St. Leger, " than the enemy 
 we had to expect." He was now forced 
 to retire before night, and, having called 
 in his advanced posts, hurried off toward 
 Oswego. 
 
 They went oft;" says Cordon, and St. 
 Leger was, about noon of the 22d [Au- 
 
528 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 gust], in such hurry and confusion, as to 
 leave his bombardier asleep in the bomb- 
 battery. His tents, with most of the ar 
 tillery and stores, fell into the hands of 
 the garrison. Some of the Indian sa 
 chems, who were highly disgusted with 
 him, concluded to play upon him, and di 
 vert themselves at his expense. In the 
 evening the flying troops came to a clay 
 soil, pretty soft. St. Leger and Sir John 
 Johnson were in an altercation, St. Leger 
 reproaching Sir John about his Indians, 
 and Sir John blaming St. Leger for not 
 carrying on the siege differently. 
 
 "A couple of Indian chiefs, upon a ri 
 sing hill at a small distance, with light 
 enough to observe their situation, and 
 near enough to notice their wranglings, 
 which proceeded almost to fighting, di 
 rected an Indian to withdraw some con 
 siderable way behind them, and then to 
 run after them, crying out with all ima 
 ginable earnestness in the Indian lan 
 guage, Then are coming! then are coining! 
 and to continue it. 
 
 " St. Leger and Sir John, upon hearing 
 the dismal note, made off as fast as they 
 could, but often tumbled into the dirt. 
 The men pushed off in the greatest hur 
 ry. The Indians renewed the joke ; and 
 continued thus, and in like ways, till the 
 royalists arrived at the Oneida lake." 
 
 The garrison at Fort Schuyler were 
 greatly mystified by this sudden move 
 ment of the enemy. Colonel Gansevoort 
 knew the strength of the besiegers, and 
 how day after day they had been labori 
 ously proceeding with their works, appa 
 rently with full confidence in a success 
 ful issue to their operations. They had 
 
 peremptorily summoned him to surren 
 der ; and, although he had resolutely an 
 swered that he would defend the fort to 
 the last extremit} , there had seemingly 
 occurred nothing in the relations between 
 the besiegers and besieged to justify this 
 sudden retreat of the enemy. The mys 
 tery, however, was soon cleared up by 
 the arrival of the cunning Cuyler at the 
 fort. Fearful that his trick might be de 
 tected, and he meet with the punishment 
 which he deserved, the rogue had fled in 
 the night, during the confusion of St. Le- 
 ger s retreat, and made his way to Colo 
 nel Gansevoort, to whom Cuyler, himself 
 the principal agent, now disclosed the 
 ruse by which St. Leger had been forced 
 to raise the siege. 
 
 General Arnold did not await the re 
 sult of his cunning device against the 
 enemy nor reinforcements from Gates, 
 before marching. He resolved, with his 
 usual impetuosity, to push on to the re 
 lief of Gaiisevoort with the force at his 
 command, however small. But he had 
 not <>;ot far when a New- York regiment 
 
 O * > 
 
 found him, having been sent by Gates, to 
 whom Arnold thus wrote from the Ger 
 man Flats : " I leave this place this morn 
 ing, with twelve hundred conti- 
 
 Ang, 21. 
 nental troops and a handtiil ot 
 
 militia, for Fort Schuyler, still besieged 
 by a force equal to ours. You will hear 
 of my being victorious or no more. As 
 soon as the safety of this part of the coun 
 try will permit, I will fly to your assist 
 ance." He was still pressing forward in 
 his march toward the fort, when he heard 
 of the success of his ruse, and accordingly 
 determined to return and join Gates. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE BRITISH FLEET IN CHESAPEAKE BAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE LV. 
 
 Washington in Perplexity. The British in Chesapeake Bay. General Howe s Object. Philadelphia. The Course and 
 Voyage of the British Fleet. Washington marches from Gcrmantown. The March of the Americans through Phila 
 delphia. Landing of General Howe. Want of Horses. Forestalled by the Patriots. Young Henry Lee. "Light 
 Horse Harry." General Sullivan under a Cloud. Washington determines to give Howe Battle. The Indefatigable 
 Commander. Chad s Fort. Order of Battle. Approach of the Enemy. Battle of the Brandywine. Vain Efforts 
 of Gallantry. Retreat of the Americans. The Killed and Wounded Conduct of the French Officers. Gallantry of 
 Lafayette and De Floury. Lafayette wounded. Sullivan again under Censure. He is recalled and retained. 
 
 1777, 
 
 21. 
 
 WASHINGTON, after being a long 
 time perplexed in regard to the 
 movements of General Howe, and forced 
 to shift his encampment hither and thith 
 er, now to one side of the Delaware and 
 again to the other, finally concluded, to 
 gether with his officers in coun 
 cil assembled, that the enemy s 
 fleet had most probably sailed for Charles 
 ton. It was, however, thought expedient 
 not to follow Howe to the southward, but 
 to move the army toward the North riv 
 er. On the very day that Washington 
 was preparing to march in accordance 
 with this resolution, he received intelli 
 gence that two hundred sail of the ene 
 my had anchored in Chesapeake bay, 
 off Swan point, nearly two hundred miles 
 from the capes. There was now no doubt 
 that Philadelphia was Sir William Howe s 
 object, although the route he had taken, 
 (is Washington remarked, was " a very 
 strange one." 
 
 The course of the British fleet, which 
 had caused so much perplexing specula 
 tion, had been directed, not according to 
 any wily schemes of General Howe, but 
 by the caprice of the weather, and the 
 force of circumstances beyond his control. 
 67 
 
 The army had embarked on the 5th of 
 July, but was detained by a head-wind at 
 Sandy Hook until the 23d, and after sail 
 ing did not make the capes of Delaware 
 until the 30th. It was Howe s intention 
 to have sailed up the Delaware to Phila 
 delphia, but, receiving intelligence that 
 the Americans had raised prodigious im 
 pediments on that river, he changed his 
 mind and stood for the mouth of the Elk, 
 which opens into Chesapeake bay. He 
 was now so baffled by the prevalent south 
 erly winds of the season, that he did not 
 succeed in entering the Chesapeake until 
 this late period (the 21st of August). His 
 troops, both cavalry and infantry, crowded 
 into the holds of the transports, during 
 the hottest season of the year, and unpro 
 vided with the necessaries and comforts 
 for a long voyage, suffered greatly. The 
 soldiers were weakened by the protracted 
 confinement on shipboard, and the horses 
 became nearly useless. 
 
 Washington now changed the direction 
 of his march, and determined to proceed 
 from Germantown, where he was then en 
 camped, in a southerly direction along 
 the western bank of the Delaware, in or 
 der to meet and oppose the approach of 
 
530 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPAKT 11. 
 
 the enemy. He also sent for General Sul 
 livan, who was at that time on the North 
 river, to join him with his division. With 
 the view of exerting " some influence on 
 the minds of the disaffected there, and 
 those who are dupes to their artifices and 
 opinions," Washington marched his army 
 through Philadelphia. 
 
 The whole force amounted to nearly 
 nine thousand men, and that their march 
 through the city produced the impression 
 desired may be inferred from the account 
 given by Graydon, who from " the coffee-, 
 house corner" beheld them as they passed. 
 " These," he says, " though indifferently 
 dressed, held well- burnished arms, and 
 carried them like soldiers, and looked, in 
 short, as if they might have faced an equal 
 number with a reasonable prospect of suc 
 cess." Passing on through Philadelphia 
 without halting, the army continued its 
 march through Derby and Chester, to 
 Wilmington. 
 
 Sir William Howe, in the meantime, 
 had landed on the banks of the Elk river, 
 at the head of Chesapeake bay, 
 and moved his troops to within 
 two miles of the town of Elk (Elkton), in 
 Maryland, where he encamped them up 
 on the hills. Howe had lost so many 
 horses during his long voyage, that he 
 was unable to send out those mounted 
 parties by which he had hoped to scour 
 the country, and secure supplies. The 
 Americans were thus enabled to frustrate 
 him ; and, being now provided with an 
 excellent cavalry-force, they succeeded 
 not only in securing a good portion of 
 the public stores deposited at the head 
 of the Elk, but in greatly harassing the 
 
 Aug. 25, 
 
 British advanced pickets. Young Harry 
 Lee, with his lii>;ht-horse, did i>reat ser- 
 
 O * O 
 
 vice in these skirmishes. 
 
 Lee was a young Virginian at this 
 time only twenty years of age. His name 
 sake, General Charles Lee, declared that 
 "he came forth a soldier from his mother s 
 womb." Washington warmly welcomed 
 the youth when he first offered his ser 
 vices, gave him the command of a com 
 pany of light-horse, and watched ever af 
 ter with fond admiration his spirited ca 
 reer. " Perhaps," says Irving, " there was 
 something beside his bold, dashing spirit, 
 which won him this favor. There may 
 have been early recollections connected 
 with it. Lee was the son of the lady who 
 first touched Washington s heart in his 
 schoolboy days, the one about whom he 
 wrote rhymes atMountVernon and Green- 
 way Court his lowland beauty." Lee s 
 gallantry, in fact, was noticed by the en 
 tire army, and his services as a cavalry- 
 officer were so remarkable, that he was 
 popularly known as "Light-horse Harry." 
 Washington took care to record the deeds 
 of his youthful compatriot: " Ten o clock. 
 This minute twenty-four British prison 
 ers arrived, taken yesterday by Captain 
 Lee of the light-horse," is a postscript to 
 his letter to the president of Congress, 
 dated Wilmington, 30th of August. 
 
 General Sullivan, in obedience to Wash 
 ington s orders, had joined the army with 
 his division. He came back, however, with 
 some imputations resting upon his con 
 duct in an unsuccessful enterprise against 
 Staten island. It was resolved to appoint 
 a court of inquiry to investigate the mat 
 ter, while in the meantime he was left in 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 POSITION OF THE HOSTILE ARMIES. 
 
 531 
 
 full command. Sullivan was frequently 
 exposed to charges of ill conduct ; but, as 
 he always brought forward proof of his 
 courage and the sincerity of his patriot 
 ism., he never failed to reinstate himself, 
 if not in public opinion, at any rate in his 
 rank in the army. 
 
 Washington s army now amounted to 
 fifteen thousand men, although the effect 
 ive force, from sickness and other causes, 
 was calculated at only eleven thousand. 
 He had determined, however, to give the 
 enemy battle, though the latter were es 
 timated to possess the greatly superior 
 strength of eighteen thousand. There 
 were not wanting those who considered 
 Washington s resolution to fight under 
 the disadvantage of such inferior num 
 bers as imprudent. He believed, never 
 theless, that, with the choice of a good 
 position, he might make an effective re 
 sistance. Moreover, he thought that, to 
 retreat before General Howe, and allow 
 him to march to Philadelphia without op 
 position; would dispirit the country and 
 injure the cause even more than a de 
 feat. 
 
 Washington was indefatigable in pre 
 paring for the contest. He was constant 
 ly in his saddle, riding about the country, 
 in spite of the heavy rains, to reconnoitre 
 the position of the enemy, and to select 
 proper ground for opposing their advance. 
 It was finally concluded to move from 
 Wilmington to Newport, where the army 
 was posted in a line along the bank of 
 the Red-Clay creek. The British, 
 in the meantime, had advanced 
 within eight miles, and taken their posi 
 tion on Iron hill. Skirmishes ensued be- 
 
 Septi 7. 
 
 tween the advanced pickets of both ar 
 mies, but with little advantage to either 
 side. 
 
 General Howe now made another for 
 ward movement, with the appa- 
 
 tj ftf C 
 
 rent intention of attacking the 
 Americans. Washington waited for him 
 the whole day ; but finding that he had 
 halted at Milltown, within two miles of 
 the American encampment, and it appear 
 ing probable that the enemy only intend 
 ed " to amuse us," says Washington, " in 
 front, while their real intent was to march 
 by our right, and by suddenly passing the 
 Brandy wine, and gaining the heights up 
 on the north side of that river, get be 
 tween us and Philadelphia, and cut us off 
 from that city," he judged it expedient 
 to move his position immediately. 
 
 Washington accordingly retired, and, 
 crossing the Brandy wine, posted 
 his army on the heights, near to 
 Chad s ford. The Brandywine, rising by 
 two branches, that unite at what is called 
 the Fork, flows in a small stream from 
 west to east, and empties into the Dela 
 ware, about twenty-five miles south of 
 Philadelphia, The principal ford of the 
 river was Chad s, on the direct road to 
 the north, although there were others 
 above and below. 
 
 Having crossed the Brandy wine, Wash 
 ington posted his centre along the east 
 ern bank, near Chad s ford, where, expect 
 ing the main attack of the enemy, he com 
 manded in person. His right wing, un 
 der General Sullivan, was moved two 
 miles above, on the same side of the riv 
 er ; and his left, consisting of Pennsylva 
 nia militia, under General Armstrong, to 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Sept. 10, 
 
 the same distance at a ford below Chad s. 
 The main body, with the general-in-chief, 
 was composed of Wayne s brigade, Wee- 
 don s and Muhlenberg s, under General 
 Greene, together with a body of light-in 
 fantry commanded by General Maxwell, 
 and the artillery. Sullivan, on the right, 
 had his own division and those of Lord 
 Stirling and General Stephen. With Arm 
 strong, on the left, where the position was 
 considered of less importance, there were 
 no troops but militia. 
 
 On the following day, the en 
 emy had advanced to Kennet 
 Square, within seven miles of the Bran 
 dy wine. Washington, in the meantime, 
 sent General Maxwell and his light-in- 
 faritry across the stream, to post them 
 selves on the high ground on both sides 
 of the road leading to Chad s ford, the 
 passage of which they were ordered to 
 resist to the utmost. Sullivan, too, was 
 directed to be on the alert in watching 
 the fords above. This officer was appa 
 rently vigilant, but only extended his 
 watchfulness to some four miles to his 
 right, as far as the fork where the two 
 branches of the Brandywine unite, and 
 beyond which it was thought there was 
 no likelihood of the enemy attempting 
 to cross. 
 
 After halting a night at Kennet Square, 
 the British moved on early on the morn 
 ing of the next day, in two col 
 umns. One, under the command 
 of the Hessian general, Knyphausen, ad 
 vanced in a direct line along the road to 
 Chad s ford. The other, commanded by 
 Lord Cornwallis, and accompanied by 
 General Howe, diverged to their left, and 
 
 Sept, 11, 
 
 Sept, 11, 
 
 proceeded by way of the Lancaster road, 
 which ran nearly parallel to the principal 
 stream of the Brandywine, and crossed 
 the two branches or forks which form it 
 at its rise. 
 
 As soon as General Knyphausen was 
 discovered advancing toward him, Wash 
 ington prepared to give him bat 
 tle, thinking that his column was 
 the main body of the enemy. Knyphau 
 sen came on, firing his artillery, but was 
 
 O */ 7 
 
 soon checked by General Maxwell, who 
 from the heights on each side of the road 
 poured down upon the advanced guards 
 such a severe fire, that they were forced 
 to fall back until reinforced by the rest 
 of the troops. So large a force now came 
 pushing on to their aid, that the Ameri 
 cans were obliged to retire across the ford 
 and join their main body under Washing 
 ton. Three hundred of the enemy were 
 supposed to have been killed and wound 
 ed in this preliminary skirmish, while the 
 loss of Maxwell was only about fifty men. 
 Knyphausen held back his troops, halting 
 them on the heights from which the Amer 
 ican light-infantry had retired. He did 
 not seem anxious to renew the engage 
 ment, though frequently provoked to do 
 so by skirmishing-parties from the other 
 side. Maxwell crossed the ford a second 
 time with his light-corps, and drove an 
 advanced party from their ground, with 
 a loss to the British of thirty men left 
 dead on the spot, and a number of in- 
 trench ing-tools with which they were en 
 gaged in throwing up works for a battery. 
 Knyphausen still held back, and some of 
 the Americans on the other side of the 
 river beinin to indulge in the belief that 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] APPROACH AND MANOEUVRES OF THE BRITISH. 
 
 533 
 
 they had effectually put a stop to his fur 
 ther progress. The wary Hessian gener 
 al, however, had a part to perform, as we 
 shall see, and designedly resisted all prov 
 ocations to engage. 
 
 While Washington was speculating up 
 on the probable manoeuvres of the Brit 
 ish in his front, he received a despatch, 
 at about twelve o clock, from General 
 Sullivan, informing him that one of his 
 officers had reported that a large body 
 of the enemy, supposed to amount to five 
 thousand, with sixteen or eighteen field- 
 pieces, was marching along the Lancas 
 ter road. Washington immediately sent 
 orders to Sullivan to cross the Brandy- 
 wine and attack this division, while he 
 himself proposed to advance by Chad s 
 ford against the other. The former was 
 the main body of the British, which, as 
 we have seen, had marched under Gener 
 al Howe and Lord Cornwallis to the left, 
 with the view of taking a long, circuitous 
 route, leading across the unguarded fords 
 of the branches of the Brandywine, and 
 thus gaining the rear of the Americans. 
 The division in front of the commander- 
 in-chief, though supposed by him to be 
 the main body of the enemy, was only a 
 smaller column sent under Knyphausen 
 to divert the Americans in front, while 
 the main attack should be made by Howe 
 and Cornwallis against their right flank 
 and rear. 
 
 Washington, having thus discovered 
 the march of the British column under 
 Howe and Cornwallis, was in a fair way 
 of thwarting their designs, when another 
 messenger arrived in all haste with intel 
 ligence from Sullivan, contradicting the 
 
 information which he had sent but a few 
 moments before. Major Spear, of the mi 
 litia, had come in from the fork of the 
 Brandywine, and, having heard nothing 
 of the enemy, "was confident" that they 
 were not in that quarter. The orders for 
 crossing the Brandywine were now coun 
 termanded ; but Washington took care to 
 secure more certain intelligence by send 
 ing Colonel Bland, with a troop of cav 
 alry, to reconnoitre the country beyond 
 General Sullivan s position, and report at 
 the earliest moment to that commander 
 the result. 
 
 In the mean time, one Thomas Cheyney, 
 a farmer of that neighborhood, and a firm 
 patriot, came riding in upon his " spirited 
 mare all in a foam," and declared that he 
 had seen the British, in a large body, on 
 the north side of the river. Washington 
 affirmed that it could not be, for he had 
 just received contrary information. " My 
 life upon it," answered Cheyney, with a 
 round oath, to give emphasis to his dec 
 laration, " it is true !" He was, however, 
 listened to incredulously, when his story 
 was confirmed a moment after by the fol 
 lowing despatch, received by Washing 
 ton : 
 
 "Two O CLOCK, P. M. 
 
 " DEAR GENERAL: Colonel Bland has this 
 moment sent me word that the enemy 
 are in the rear of my right about two 
 miles, coming down. There are, he says, 
 about two brigades of them. He also 
 says he saw a dust back in the country 
 for above an hour. I am, &c., 
 
 " JOHN SULLIVAN." 
 
 Howe and Cornwallis had thus carried 
 out their design with success. They had 
 
534 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPAUT ii. 
 
 succeeded, by a long circuit of seventeen 
 miles, in crossing the Brandywine at the 
 fords over the two branches of the river, 
 and gained the rear of the right wing of 
 Washington s army without opposition. 
 They now took an advantageous position 
 on the high ground near the Birmingham 
 meetinghouse, which Sullivan s delay in 
 waiting for orders gave them an oppor 
 tunity of doing without the least show 
 of resistance. The order to attack came 
 from Washington as soon as he learned 
 the approach of the enemy. 
 
 General Sullivan was directed to bring 
 his "whole right wing to bear at once 
 against Howe and Cornwallis ;" while 
 Wayne was ordered to keep Knyphausen 
 in check at Chad s ford ; and General 
 Greene to post himself with the Virginia 
 brigades in a position between the two, 
 and hold himself in reserve and ready to 
 assist either as might be required. 
 
 Some absurd misunderstanding about 
 etiquette delayed Sullivan s troops in get 
 ting into line of battle after marching to 
 meet the enemy. General Deborre, a 
 veteran Frenchman, who had a command 
 in Lord Stirling s division, assumed the 
 post of honor, on the extreme right. Sul 
 livan claimed this as his own position, 
 and, while manoeuvring his men to take 
 it, the British began the attack, and came 
 upon the Americans w r hile in the confu 
 sion of the change. The consequence was, 
 an almost immediate rout of the right and 
 left wings. The centre resisted spirited 
 ly for awhile, but it soon gave way, and 
 fled with the rest through the woods in 
 their rear. 
 
 While the enemy got somewhat bewil 
 
 dered among the trees, in the course of 
 their pursuit, the American officers strove 
 to rally their men. Among them was La 
 fayette, who had hurried from the side 
 of Washington to join Sullivan s division 
 so soon as he found that it was likely to 
 be in the hottest of the fight, and had 
 been engaged in the struggle as long as 
 the centre held its ground. Now that it 
 had given way, he dismounted, and, with 
 Sullivan and Lord Stirling, was striving 
 to bring back the men to the attack, when 
 he was wounded by a musket-ball in the 
 leg. His aid-de-camp was, fortunately, 
 near by, and, lifting the marquis upon his 
 horse, hurried him off. 
 
 Knyphausen, as soon as he heard the 
 first gun from General Howe s column, 
 which was the signal agreed upon, strove 
 in earnest to push his way across Chad s 
 fbrd. Wayne, however, succeeded in keep 
 ing him pretty well in check. 
 
 Washington, who found that the right 
 wing would be hard pressed, ordered Gen 
 eral Greene to the relief of Sullivan ; and 
 that officer moved with such speed, that 
 his division marched four miles in forty 
 minutes ! He came up, however, only in 
 time to meet the Americans in full flight, 
 closely followed by the British. He then, 
 by skilfully opening his ranks to allow 
 the fugitives to pass, and closing them 
 afterward, succeeded in protecting their 
 retreat. While checking the pursuit of 
 the enemy by his artillery, Greene retired 
 to a narrow defile at a short distance be 
 yond Dilworth, where he made a gallant 
 stand with his Virginians. The British 
 repeatedly attempted to force him from 
 his position, but were constantly foiled 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF THP: BRANDYWINE. 
 
 535 
 
 by the stubborn resistance they encoun 
 tered. Greene was thus enabled to cover 
 the retreat of the whole army. General 
 Howe finally drew off his troops from the 
 pursuit. 
 
 In the meantime, General Wayne strug 
 gled manfully against Knyphausen, at 
 Chad s ford, until the defeat of Sullivan, 
 when he ordered a retreat. This, how 
 ever, soon became a confused flight, in 
 the course of which his baggage and ar 
 tillery fell into the hands of the enemy. 
 The Pennsylvania militia, under General 
 Armstrong, had been too far removed from 
 the scene of conflict to be engaged, and 
 retired early in safety. 
 
 The whole American army was now in 
 full retreat. " Fugitives, cannon, and bag 
 gage," wrote Lafayette, "crowded with 
 out order along the road leading to Ches 
 ter." It was the young marquis s first 
 taste of actual war, and the impression of 
 its horrors was naturally very strong. In 
 spite of " that dreadful confusion," and 
 the " darkness of the night," of which he 
 speaks, having had his bleeding wound 
 bound up by a surgeon, he was, however, 
 as he tells us, indefatigable in trying to 
 check the flight of the fugitives at Ches 
 ter bridge, where he posted a guard. On 
 reaching this place, Washington reformed 
 his scattered troops, and halted until the 
 next morning, before continuing the re 
 treat toward Philadelphia. 
 
 The number of the killed and wound 
 ed has never been accurately ascertained. 
 The loss of the Americans, however, was 
 declared by General Howe to be three 
 hundred killed, six hundred wounded, and 
 tour hundred taken prisoners; while his 
 
 Sept. 12. 
 
 own was estimated by him at only ninety 
 killed, four hundred and eighty- eight 
 wounded, and six missing. On the day 
 after the battle, the British gen 
 eral wrote to Washington, in 
 forming him that the wounded Ameri 
 cans were so numerous, that his own sur 
 geons could not attend them. 
 
 The French officers took a prominent 
 share in the Brandywine battle. The 
 young Lafayette, as we have seen, gal 
 lantly sought the place of danger, and 
 was wounded. The veteran Deborre 
 who had insisted upon the command of 
 Sullivan s right had, in consequence of 
 the flight of his troops, been the first to 
 yield to the enemy. Congress voted to 
 inquire into his conduct on the occasion. 
 At this resolution he was greatly indig 
 nant, and wrote to that body, resigning 
 his appointment, while he declared that, 
 if the Americans did run away, it was not 
 his fault. His resignation was readily 
 accepted ; for, whatever may have been 
 his military qualities, he had become so 
 personally unpopular in the army, that 
 Congress was rejoiced to get rid of him. 
 Captain Louis de Fleury fought so brave 
 ly, that he won Washington s admiration, 
 and was rewarded by Congress with the 
 gift of a horse, to compensate him for the 
 one that he had lost in the engagement. 
 The baron St. Ouary (or Ovary) was less 
 fortunate, having been taken prisoner. 
 General Conway (who was a Frenchman 
 by adoption) had stood among the fore 
 most with his eight hundred men in the 
 centre, while the right and left had given 
 way. 
 
 General Greene complained that the 
 
530 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART IT. 
 
 Virginia regiments of Weedon and Muh- 
 lenburg, which, under his command, had 
 so gallantly defended the pass at Dil- 
 worth, were not noticed by Washington 
 in his report to Congress. The command- 
 er-in-chief explained that he had been 
 more reserved in praise of them because 
 they were Virginians, and lest it might 
 be supposed that he was prejudiced in 
 their favor. 
 
 General Sullivan was held responsible 
 by public opinion for a large portion of 
 the disasters of the day at the Brandy- 
 wine. A resolve was passed by Congress, 
 recalling him from the army until a court 
 of inquiry should be held. Washington, 
 however, declared that he could not spare 
 him at such a crisis in the public affairs, 
 and Sullivan was accordingly left undis 
 turbed in his command. 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 General Burgoyne in Receipt of Bad News. The British Commanders mutually in the Dark. Burgoyne determines to 
 advance. General Gates proposes to meet Him. His Resources. General Lincoln hanging on the Rear of the 
 Enemy. Successes of Colonel Brown. The Americans at Stillwater. Bemis s Heights and their Fortifications. 
 Burgoyne willing to risk All. "A Victory, and an Empire!" A Brilliant Plan. The Arrival of the Enemy. A 
 
 Halt. The Opposing Lines. Arrival of General Stark. A Hearty Welcome. The First Battle at Saratoga. 
 
 Morgan "ruined." The Impetuous Arnold. Progress of the Struggle. Burgoyne claims a Victory. The Baroness 
 Reidusel and Lady Harriet Ackland. Their Devotion and Fortitude. Life in a Camp. Following the Drum. 
 Battle Horrors 
 
 WHHN the discouraging intelli 
 gence of the defeat of Baume at 
 Benninorton and the flight of St. Lei^er 
 
 o o o 
 
 from Fort Schuyler readied General Bui- 
 
 */ 
 
 goyne at Battenkill, on the Hudson, he 
 would have fallen back with his troops 
 to Fort Edward, within reach of his mag 
 azines on the lakes, and there waited the 
 progress of events. He had, however, 
 been positively ordered by the British 
 government to form a junction with Sir 
 William Howe, and he determined at all 
 hazards to perform his part. He never 
 theless looked in vain for the co-opera 
 tion of Howe. That general, in conse 
 quence of his long delay on the coast, 
 after leaving New York, did not receive 
 
 his despatches in time to pursue the plan 
 of operations laid down bv the govern- 
 
 ^ O 
 
 ment. He was already in Chesapeake 
 bay before the orders to co-operate with 
 Burgoyne reached him. He was then 
 too far engaged in his expedition to Phil 
 adelphia to obey them. Burgoyne, how 
 ever, having no intelligence from Howe, 
 still looked for a junction from New York, 
 and determined to push on toward Alba 
 ny, in order to do his part toward effect 
 ing it, so soon as he should receive from 
 the north the necessary supplies for a 
 march. 
 
 The American army, having retired be 
 fore the British to Van Shaick s island, 
 where the Mohawk unites its waters with 
 
KKVOI.UTIONAKY.] GENERAL BURGOYNE CROSSES THE HUDSON. 
 
 537 
 
 those of the Hudson, was now so strength 
 ened by reinforcements, and encouraged 
 by the late reverses of the enemy, that 
 General Gates determined to march his 
 troops back to meet the advance of Bur- 
 goyne. 
 
 Gates felt confident in his means. His 
 army now numbered about six thousand 
 strong. With him was General Arnold, 
 restless and eager for action, who had re 
 turned after his successful ruse against St. 
 Le^er. With him, too, was the famous 
 
 <_; f f 
 
 Colonel Morgan, with his five hundred 
 riflemen, to whose ranks were added two 
 hundred and fifty picked soldiers from 
 the line, under the command of Major 
 Dearborn, who had marched with Arnold 
 through the wilderness of Maine, and was 
 an old comrade of Morgan. Colonels Van 
 Cortlandt and Livingston had lately come 
 in with their two New-York regiments. 
 Arnold was Gates s major-general; Poor, 
 Learned, Nixon, Glover, and Patterson, 
 were his brigadiers. Morgan, Cook, Van 
 Cortlandt, Henry and James Livingston, 
 Cilley, Scammel, Hale, Brooks, Butler, 
 Bailey, Wesson, Jackson, and Marshall, 
 were the colonels. Morris, Dearborn, and 
 Hull, were among the majors. General 
 Wilkinson was deputy adjutant-general, 
 and Colonel Morgan Lewis quartermas 
 ter-general. 
 
 General Lincoln was now in the New- 
 Hampshire grants, with the militia, which 
 was daily gathering in force, hanging on 
 the left and rear of Burgoy lie s army, and 
 watching an opportunity for action. This 
 soon offered. While Burgoyne was kept 
 in forced inactivity, waiting supplies, Lin 
 coln gained his rear and sent forward a 
 08 
 
 Sept. 18. 
 
 detachment of five hundred men, under 
 Colonel Brown, against the British posts 
 on the lakes. This enterprise was con 
 ducted with such secrecy and address 
 that Brown succeeded in surprising and 
 gaining possession of all the out 
 posts between the landing at the 
 north end of Lake George and the for 
 tress of Ticonderoga. Mount Defiance, 
 Mount Hope, the old French lines, two 
 hundred batteaux,an armed sloop, several 
 gun-boats, and two hundred and ninety- 
 three prisoners, were captured, almost 
 without a blow. The fortresses at Ticon 
 deroga and Mount Independence were 
 too strongly garrisoned for Brown to mas 
 ter with his small force ; but he succeed 
 ed in releasing a hundred Americans held 
 as prisoners, and bringing off as a trophy 
 the continental flag which had been left 
 by St. Clair on his retreat. He still con 
 tinued in Burgoyne s rear. 
 
 The American army began to retrace 
 its steps toward the enemy on the 8th of 
 September, and next day reached Still- 
 water. Here Kosciusko, who was the 
 chief engineer, traced a line for intrench- 
 ments, and set a thousand men to work ; 
 but the position being discovered to be 
 untenable, Gates moved his army to Be- 
 mis s heights, and began to fortify his 
 ground by breastworks and redoubts. 
 
 Burgoyne, having finally received his 
 baggage, artillery, military stores, and 
 thirty days pro visions, from Lake George, 
 on the 13th and 14th of September he 
 crossed the Hudson with his whole army 
 to Saratoga. He had now risked all up 
 on the chance of forcing his way to Al 
 bany. He had concentrated his troops, 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [_l AR7 I 1 
 
 he had abandoned his communication with 
 the lakes, and his only hope was now to 
 move forward. " There was much to dis 
 courage and positively nothing to encour 
 age" such an advance, but Burgoyne was 
 determined to obey orders; and, more 
 over, there was something so enticing to 
 a military leader in a plan, the successful 
 execution of which it was believed would 
 not only secure a victory, but an empire, 
 that it is not surprising he should have 
 risked all on the chance, however remote, 
 of such a prize. 
 
 The British ministry believed that Bur- 
 goyne s force by moving southward along 
 the banks of the Hudson, and Sir William 
 Howe s by advancing northward, could 
 form a junction at Albany. Here there 
 would be gathered a great army, which 
 would cut off all communication between 
 the eastern and southern provinces, and 
 crush out all further opposition. " With 
 out question," says an English writer,* 
 K the plan was ably formed ; and had the 
 success of the execution been equal to 
 the ingenuity of the design, the recon- 
 quest or submission of the thirteen Uni 
 ted States must in all human probability 
 have followed ; and the independence 
 which they proclaimed in 1776 would 
 have been extinguished before it existed 
 a second year." 
 
 Burgoyne, after crossing the Hudson 
 to Saratoga, moved forward toward the 
 American encampment. As the country 
 was rugged, and seamed with creeks and 
 water-courses, his progress was necessa 
 rily slow, for he was forced to construct 
 bridges and build temporary causeways 
 
 + Creary. 
 
 before his army could move. Gates, too, 
 took care to harass the British working- 
 parties, by sending out the ever-active 
 Arnold, with fifteen hundred men, who so 
 greatly annoyed Burgoyne, that he was 
 forced to advance whole regiments be 
 fore he could i> et a bridge con- 
 Sept, 18, 
 structed. I he enemy at length 
 
 came to a halt within two miles of Gates s 
 army. 
 
 The ground upon which the two oppo 
 sing forces were encamped may be thus 
 described : On the north was what is now 
 called Wilbur s basin, where the main 
 body of Burgoyne s army was encamped. 
 On the east was the Hudson, with its nar 
 row alluvial flats. Westward from the 
 Hats were the river hills and an elevated 
 plateau, terminating in Bemis s heights. 
 Through the plain, branching in various 
 directions, ran Mill creek, along the main 
 channel of which was a ravine. South 
 of this was a second ravine ; and nsrain a 
 
 O 
 
 third and larger one, still more to the 
 south. Bet\veen these two latter were 
 the principal American defences. The 
 whole ground was covered with a dense 
 forest, except the flats and some cleared 
 fields called Freeman s farm, which was 
 situated toward the middle of the plain, 
 between the two encampments.* 
 
 The American defences consisted of a 
 line of breastworks along the brow of the 
 hills, toward the river, about three quar 
 ters of a mile in extent, forming a curve, 
 with its convexity toward the enemy. A 
 strong redoubt was raised at each extrem 
 ity, and one near the centre, so as to com 
 mand the flats. From the base of the 
 
 * A. B. Street. 
 
KKVOLUTIONAKY.J THE AMERICANS AND BRITISH AT SARATOGA. 
 
 539 
 
 hills was an intrenchment, reaching across 
 the fiats to the Hudson, with a battery on 
 the margin of the river, guarding a float 
 ing bridge. In advance, on the western 
 border of Mill creek, near where it emp 
 tied into the Hudson, were also a breast 
 work and battery. 
 
 On the morning of the 19th of Septem 
 ber the following was the position of the 
 two armies : General Poor s brigade, con 
 sisting of three New-Hampshire regiments 
 under Colonels Cilley,Scammel,and Hale; 
 two of New York, under Colonel Philip 
 Van Cortlandt and Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Henry Livingston; Colonels Cook and 
 Latimer s Connecticut militia ; Colonel 
 Morgan with his rifle-corps, and the two 
 hundred and fifty infantry under Major 
 Dearborn, composed the left wing of the 
 American army, under the command of 
 Major-General Benedict Arnold, and rest 
 ed on the heights, nearly a mile from the 
 river. The centre, composed of General 
 Learned s brigade; three Massachusetts 
 regiments, under Colonels Bailey, Wes 
 son, and Jackson ; and one of New York, 
 under Colonel James Livingston, occu 
 pied the elevated plain. The main body, 
 consisting principally of the brigades of 
 Nixon, Patterson, and Glover, and com 
 manded by General Gates in person, com 
 posed the right wing, extending across 
 the river hills and ilats toward the Hud 
 
 son. 
 
 The American army was greatly en 
 couraged by the arrival of General Stark, 
 with those troops which had so gallantly 
 won the day at Bennington. Loud huz 
 zas from the lines welcomed them as they 
 entered the camp, aud great service was 
 
 expected from them in the approaching 
 engagement. They were, however, inde 
 pendent militia, and did not seem disposed 
 to submit to discipline. They swaggered 
 about in loose array from tent to tent, 
 peering curiously into everything, and 
 apparently undetermined whether to stay 
 or to go. They now began to collect in 
 groups, and whisper mysteriously togeth 
 er. Finally, with their knapsacks still on 
 their backs, they boldly reminded their 
 officers that their time of service had expired 
 thai day, and that they had resolved to go 
 home. Stark urged them to remain, but 
 his appeals were in vain ; and the heroes 
 of Bennington inarched back again, on 
 the very day they had arrived. Rapidly 
 as they hurried off, they could not have 
 got beyond the sound of the guns when 
 the action began ! 
 
 The left wing of the British, with the 
 large train of artillery, under General 
 Phillips and the baron de Reidesel, occu 
 pied the flats toward the river. The cen 
 tre and right wing, of which most were 
 Germans, commanded by Burgoyne in 
 person, extended across the plains to the 
 west. Their position was covered by the 
 grenadiers and light-infantry, under Gen 
 eral Fraser and Colonel Breyman. On 
 the flanks and in front was a miscellane 
 ous throng of American loyalists, Cana 
 dians, and Indians.* 
 
 About eight o clock in the morning 
 
 the officer commanding; an Amer- 
 
 Sept, 19 
 
 ican picket reported that the en 
 emy had struck most of their tents on the 
 plain, and that Burgoyne with his centre 
 was passing westwardly in the direction 
 
 * Street. 
 
540 
 
 BATTLES OF AMP: RIG A. 
 
 [l-ART II. 
 
 of the American left. Soon a more gen 
 eral movement was observed. Fraser, 
 with his light-infantry, was marching, by 
 a circuitous route, from the right of the 
 British, in the same direction as Bur- 
 goyne; and Phillips and De Reidesel were 
 bringing up the artillery from the left, 
 along the flats bordering the Hudson. 
 The Indians and Canadians, in front of 
 the British line, were also moving toward 
 the outposts of the American centre. Bur- 
 goyne s object was, while the Indians and 
 Canadians should divert Gates in front, 
 and Phillips and De Reidesel on his right, 
 to move round through the woods, and 
 get to the rear of the American left. 
 
 General Gates remained impassive, ap 
 parently determined to await the attack ; 
 but Arnold, in command of the left, grew 
 so impatient, that he sent aid-de-camp af 
 ter aid-de-camp to Gates, urging him to 
 be allowed to send out a detachment, in 
 order to check the advance of the enemy. 
 The general finally consented, when about 
 noon Arnold ordered out Morgan and 
 Dearborn, with their riflemen, to the at 
 tack. They soon came upon a body of 
 Indians and Canadians in the woods, and 
 scattered them at the first fire. The rifle 
 men now pushed on in pursuit, when they 
 found themselves suddenly brought to a 
 check by being confronted with the whole 
 British line. 
 
 A complete rout of the Americans en 
 sued, and Morgan s corps was so scattered, 
 that he himself was left with only two of 
 his men ! As the old forest-hunter was 
 striving with his shrill " turkey-call" ( from 
 the conch-shell which he wore suspended 
 from his neck) to whistle back his dis 
 
 persed troops, Wilkinson, the adjutant- 
 general, rode up. " I am ruined, by G-d !" 
 exclaimed Morgan, with tears in his eyes. 
 " Major Morris ran on so rapidly with the 
 front, that they were beaten before I 
 could get up with the rear, and my men 
 are scattered God knows where !" Mor 
 gan, when marching into action, always 
 brought up the rear himself, " to see," as 
 he said, "that every man did his duty; 
 and that cowards did not lag behind while 
 brave men were fighting." 
 
 Several officers and men of Morgan s 
 corps had been taken prisoners. Major 
 Morris, who had led them on so impetu 
 ously, only saved himself by dashing his 
 horse through the ranks of the enem}^ 
 who surrounded him, and making oft by 
 a circuitous route. The " turkey -call" 
 soon brought back the fugitives, and Mor 
 gan with his corps reformed, and being 
 joined by Colonels Cilley, Brooks, and 
 Scammel, and Major Hull, with their New 
 Hampshire regiments, is now again pre 
 pared for action. It is renewed with 
 great spirit on both sides ; now the Brit 
 ish are gaining ground, and again the 
 Americans ; and so the contest is contin 
 ued, with fluctuating result, until each 
 party finally retires within the intrench- 
 ments, while neither claims the advan 
 tage. 
 
 Arnold, in the mean time, keeping watch 
 over the movement of General Fraser 
 who is attempting to turn the American 
 left determines to thwart him by cut 
 ting him off from the main body of the 
 British. He accordingly pushes on rap 
 idly with Colonel Hale s New-Hampshire 
 regiment, three of New York under Van 
 
RKVOLUTIONAKY.J 
 
 BATTLE OF BEMIS S HEIGHTS. 
 
 541 
 
 Cortland and Livingston, and a body of 
 Connecticut militia, with the view of turn 
 ing Eraser s left. As, however, he is stri 
 ving to carry out his manoeuvre unob 
 served, under the cover of the forest, he 
 suddenly comes upon Fraser with his 
 whole force, and a struggle ensues ; but 
 General Phillips soon making his appear 
 ance with his artillery, gave the enemy 
 so greatly the advantage, that the Amer 
 icans prudently retired. There was now 
 a pause in the action. It was, however, 
 soon renewed. 
 
 The British stood in line, in advance of 
 their encampment, upon the slope of a 
 rising ground, amid scattered pines. The 
 American ranks, formed ready for battle, 
 were opposite, but closely hid from their 
 enemy, in a thick forest. Between the 
 two was "Freeman s farm," a cleared field, 
 once cultivated by the hand of the peace 
 ful husbandman, now choked with weeds 
 and abandoned to the tramp of the sol 
 dier. This Freeman s farm, between the 
 opposing armies, was now the field of bat 
 tle. 
 
 The British provoke the conflict by a 
 discharge of artillery. The Americans, 
 however, remain unmoved. Soon the 
 smoke clears away, and the ranks of the 
 enemy are seen in motion, hurrying down 
 the slope with apparent irregularity, as 
 the sight is confused by the scattered 
 pines. They now show themselves, how 
 ever, in close and well-ordered array, ad 
 vancing in the cleared ground below. 
 They come on quickly, nearer and near 
 er ; they halt, level their muskets, firing 
 a volley, and then rush forward, charging 
 with their bayonets. The Americans with 
 
 hold their fire until the British are close 
 up, and then with a sure aim pour upon 
 them such a discharge, that their ranks, 
 reeling with the shock, finally break and 
 give way. The Americans now rush from 
 their forest-covert and follow the enemy 
 in close pursuit across the field. The 
 British, reaching the high ground, and 
 being covered by their artillery, now ral 
 ly, and again charging with the bayonet, 
 drive the Americans in their turn back 
 to the woods. The marksmen once more 
 with their deadly fire compel the enemy 
 to flee, and again pursue them to the cov 
 er of their encampment. The British 
 rally and charge as before ; and thus did 
 " the battle fluctuate, like waves of a 
 strong sea, with alternate advantage, for 
 four hours, without one moment s inter 
 mission." Gallantly they fought on both 
 sides, and night alone ended the conflict. 
 Neither the British nor the Americans 
 could justly claim the victory. The loss 
 was nearly the same, amounting to more 
 than three hundred each ; while the num 
 ber engaged was also about equal, though 
 some have stated that the Americans on 
 ly brought twenty-five hundred into the 
 field against three thousand of General 
 Burgoy ne s troops. 
 
 In the course of the struggle, the Amer 
 icans succeeded in gaining possession of 
 some of the British artillery, but they had 
 to fight hard for it. The captain and 
 thirty-six men, out of a company of forty- 
 eight, were struck down before their gun 
 could be taken, so manfully did they cling 
 to their piece. The cannon taken, how 
 ever, for want of horses to bring them 
 off, were left upon the field, and conse- 
 
542 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [TART n. 
 
 quently again fell into the hands of the 
 enemy. 
 
 General Burgoyne claimed the victory, 
 as appeared by some letters found in the 
 pouch of an Indian, who was shot dead 
 by one of the American scouts on the 
 lookout throughout the whole country 
 around for British spies and messengers. 
 The letters were writ: en by Burgoyne to 
 Sir Guy Carleton, in Canada. In one he 
 wrote : " I take the first opportunity to 
 inform you we have had a smart and very 
 honorable action, and are now encamped 
 in the front of the field, which must de 
 monstrate our victory beyond the power 
 of even (in American newspaper writer 
 to explain away." In another letter he 
 declared : " We found live hundred of 
 their [the Americans ] bodies the morn 
 ing after." 
 
 There were two women of rank in the 
 British camp, w T hose noble devotion to 
 their husbands and spirited endurance of 
 the trials of affection and fortitude to 
 which they were exposed in the course 
 of the terrors and horrors of actual war, 
 have given a romantic interest to Bur- 
 goyne s campaign. No historian has failed 
 to record the remarkable adventures of 
 the baroness Reidesel and Lady Harriet 
 Ackland. The former has, in her own 
 natural narrative, left the best history of 
 her sad experience in America. 
 
 The baroness Reidesel was the wife of 
 the Hessian general in command of the 
 Germans. Lady Harriet Ackland was the 
 sister of the earl of Ilchester. arid the 
 wife of Major Ackland, of the grenadiers. 
 They had accompanied their husbands to 
 Quebec, where they were urged to remain 
 
 during the campaign. Lady Ackland. 
 however, having heard that the major 
 had received a wound in the affair at 
 Hubbardton, she hurried to join him in 
 spite of the risks and trials of the jour 
 ney. She could not be prevailed upon 
 afterward to leave him, and accompanied 
 the army during the dreary and tedious 
 march to Fort Edward. Here the tent 
 in which she lodged took fire, and she 
 barely escaped with her life. She still 
 resolutely persevered in clinging to her 
 husband, and followed each advance of 
 the British army, driving in " a small, two- 
 wheeled tumbril, drawn by a single horse, 
 over roads almost impassable." :i: 
 
 The baroness Reidesel, equally devo 
 ted, followed her husband also. "I or 
 dered," she writes, " a large calash to be 
 built, capable of holding my three chil 
 dren, myself, and two female-servants ; in 
 this manner we moved with the army in 
 the midst of the soldiery, who were very 
 merry, singing songs and panting for ac 
 tion." She thus followed the army, gen 
 erally remaining about an hour s march 
 in the rear, where she received daily vis 
 its from her husband the baron. When 
 Burgoyne encamped opposite to Gates, 
 Major Williams of the artillery proposed, 
 as the frequent change of quarters was in 
 convenient, to have a house built for her, 
 "with a chimney," quite an unusual lux 
 ury in that hard campaign. As it would 
 cost "only five or six guineas" some 
 twenty-five dollars the baroness con 
 sented, and the dwelling was constructed, 
 and named " The Blockhouse," from its 
 square form, and the resemblance which 
 
 * Thucher. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE BARONESS REIDESEL AND LADY ACKLAND. 
 
 543 
 
 it bore to buildings so called, erected for 
 purposes of defence. 
 
 On the bloody day of the 19th of Sep 
 tember, however, the "Blockhouse" was 
 abandoned ; and the baroness Reidesel, 
 together with Lady Ackland and the wives 
 of Major Ilamage and Lieutenant Rey- 
 nell, being advised to follow the route of 
 the artillery, took refuge, when the en 
 gagement commenced, in a small hut near 
 Freeman s farm, the ladies retiring into 
 the cellar as the danger increased. 
 
 " I was an eye-witness," says the bar 
 oness, " to the whole affair ; and as my 
 
 husband was engaged in it, I was full of 
 anxiety, and troubled at every shot I 
 heard. I saw a great number of the 
 wounded, and, what added to the distress 
 of the scene, three of them were brought 
 into the house in which I took shelter." 
 One was Major Harnage, who was very 
 badly wounded ; and, soon after, word 
 came that Lieutenant Reynell was shot 
 dead ! The wives of both were in the 
 hut, with the baroness Reidesel and Lady 
 Ackland. " Imagination wants no help," 
 wrote Burgoyne, " to figure the state of 
 the whole group." 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 A Gloomy Morning. Gayly to Arms ! Anxious Expectation. Attack postponed. Another Delay. News from oir 
 Henry Clinton. General Burgoyne s Only Hope. The Treacherous Iroquois. Nothing more from Sir Henry. Im 
 patience of Burgoyne. Fortifies. No Sleep. The Provincials in High Spirits. Trouble in the American Camp 
 Generals Arnold and Gates. Their Quarrel. Arnold resigns. A Second, Sober Thought Arnold without Com 
 mand. Blustering ahout the Camp. 
 
 1777, 
 
 THE morning after the battle of 
 Bemis s heights opened dull and 
 gloomy. A thick mist rose from the river, 
 and, overspreading plain and forest, hung 
 in heavy folds about the sides 
 of the hills. The dead and the 
 wounded had been gathered during the 
 night from the field of battle. Sufferers 
 were groaning with pain in tent and hos 
 pital ; mourners were weeping over the 
 fresh graves of their buried comrades ; 
 surgeons with probe and knife were busy 
 at their bloody but merciful work; and 
 priests were uttering the solemn words 
 :>f prayer. Yet, amid the gloom of Na 
 
 ture, the groans of the dying, and the 
 mourning for the dead, the drums beat 
 gayly to arms in the British camp, and 
 soldiers were briskly stepping into the 
 ranks. 
 
 The thick fog hid the two armies from 
 each other, but both were ready to renew 
 the bloody struggle of yesterday. A de 
 serter came into the American camp, his 
 mouth all smutched with the biting of 
 cartridges. He had been, he said, in the 
 whole of the action of the previous day. 
 The night was spent in removing the 
 wounded and the women to the encamp 
 ment and hospital tents near the river. 
 
544 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 Fresh ammunition bad been served out 
 to the troops ; his own cartridge-box was 
 now crammed with sixty rounds ; and he 
 declared that when he left the British 
 ranks, only a quarter of an hour before, 
 the whole of the enemy s force was un 
 der arms, and orders had been given to 
 attack the American lines. In ten min 
 utes more, he added, Burgoyne would 
 march. 
 
 Trusting to this report, General Gates 
 ordered his lines to be manned immedi 
 ately ; and he and his officers exhorted 
 the troops to show themselves, in the com 
 ing conflict, w r orthy of the cause for which 
 they fought. The men, though wearied 
 with a struggle which had lasted until 
 night of the previous day, readily obeyed 
 the summons for another day s work ; and 
 eagerly, as they stood in rank, strove to 
 pierce with their straining eyes the thick 
 mist, and catch a glimpse of the approach 
 ing enemy. 
 
 Gates, however, did not share in the 
 enthusiasm of his troops. Each minute, 
 as it passed, was one of anxious solicitude. 
 He was ill prepared that day (as he and 
 some of his officers only knew) to meet 
 the enemy. His ammunition was nearly 
 exhausted, and he was anxiously awaiting 
 a supply from Albany. 
 
 An hour of excited expectation and 
 anxious suspense passed, during which 
 hope and fear played with the imagina 
 tion. Some thought they could hear the 
 movement of the enemy, and others that 
 through the floating mist they could catch 
 a sight of the advancing British troops. 
 The sun, now dispersing the vapor, shone 
 out not flashing upon the arms of a 
 
 threatening enemy, but only revealing in 
 its bright reflection the sparkling surface 
 of the Hudson, and the verdure of the 
 forest, still freshly green in the early au 
 tumn, upon hill and plain. Gates now 
 gladly dismissed the troops. 
 
 Burgoyne had drawn up his arm} , and 
 was about ordering it to march to the at 
 tack, when General Fraser (whose ability 
 and dauntless courage had gained for him 
 great and well-deserved influence with 
 his commander) besought him to post 
 pone the assault, as the grenadiers and 
 light-infantry, who w r ere to take the lead, 
 seemed wearied by the hard work of the 
 day before. Burgoyne accordingly or 
 dered his troops back to camp, and de 
 termined to postpone the attack until the 
 next morning. 
 
 Burgoyne s design was, how r ever, again 
 put off! His anxious desire to hear from 
 New York was now gratified. In the mid 
 dle of the night a spy entered 
 his camp, with a letter in cipher 
 from Sir Henry Clinton, in which that 
 general stated that he was about making 
 an attack upon the forts on the North 
 river. 
 
 The American srouts were everywhere 
 so much on the alert, that the ingenuity 
 of the British commanders was greatly 
 taxed to keep up a communication. Let 
 ters were often copied in duplicate, and 
 even in triplicate; and, although each was 
 sent by a separate messenger, it was sel 
 dom that either arrived. Burgoyne now 
 heard from Sir Henry Clinton for the 
 first time. Greatly disappointed as he 
 was to find that General Howe with his 
 whole force was not coming to Albany, 
 
 Sept, 21, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 HOPES AND FEARS OF BURGOYNE. 
 
 545 
 
 to co-operate with him, as he had been 
 led to expect when the plan of the cam 
 paign was laid down by the English gov 
 ernment, he was still encouraged by the 
 mere show of an advance of a British 
 force, however small, from New York. In 
 answer to Sir Henry Clinton, Burgoyne 
 wrote : " An attack, or the menace of an 
 attack, upon Montgomery [the fort of 
 that name on the North river], must be 
 of great use, as it will draw away a part 
 of this force, and I will follow them close. 
 Do it, my dear friend, directly." 
 
 He now determined to wait a few days, 
 in order to give Sir Henry Clinton an op 
 portunity to begin operations, before ma 
 king his attack. His provisions could not 
 last beyond the 20th of October ; and, as 
 his communication with Canada w r as so 
 completely cut off, that he could not re 
 ceive a man or a biscuit from that quar 
 ter, his only hope was, with the aid of 
 General Clinton, to be able soon to move 
 forward. He could wait until the 12th, 
 he declared, and no longer. 
 
 Colonel St. Leger had succeeded, after 
 his flight from Fort Schuyler, in making 
 his way back to Ticonderoga with a mea 
 ger remnant of troops, and would have 
 joined Burgoyne had he been able to 
 reach him. Colonel Brown was in his 
 way with a detachment of General Lin 
 coln s New-Hampshire troops, which, af 
 ter retiring from an unsuccessful attempt 
 upon Fort Diamond, was now hanging in 
 the rear of the British encampment, and 
 completely cutting it off from all commu 
 nication with the north. 
 
 Burgoy ne s Indians, too, had suffered 
 so terribly from Morgan s sharpshooters, 
 Gi) 
 
 and their propensities for scalping and 
 plundering been so checked by the hu 
 mane restrictions of the British command 
 er, that they lost all inducement to serve, 
 and could no longer be prevailed upon 
 to remain. A band of Iroquois, amount 
 ing to more than a hundred and fifty, 
 treacherously transferred their uncertain 
 fealty to what they believed to be the 
 stronger side, that of Gates. The Cana 
 dians and American loyalists likewise lost 
 heart, and deserted in numbers. General 
 Burgoyne, however, was still firm ; and 
 his regulars shared in the resolute spirit 
 of their undaunted commander, who de 
 clared to his men that he would either 
 force his way to Albany or leave his bones 
 on the field of battle. Burgoyne heard 
 nothing more from Sir Henry Clinton, but 
 cheered himself and his army with the 
 hope that intelligence would soon arrive 
 of a successful result to the promised ef 
 forts at co-operation from New York. 
 
 While Burgoyne was awaiting news 
 from Sir Henry Clinton, he began to for 
 tify his encampment. He raised breast 
 works on the flats by the river to his left, 
 on the plain at his centre, and up the ac 
 clivity of the hills on his right, strength 
 ened here and there by abaltis of heaped- 
 up rails and by redoubts. His men were 
 kept constantly at work, and on the alert. 
 " From the 20th of September to the 7th 
 of October," wrote Burgoyne, in his nar 
 rative of the expedition, " the armies were 
 so near, that not a night passed without 
 firing, and sometimes concerted attacks 
 upon our advanced pickets. I do not be 
 lieve either officer or soldier ever slept 
 in that interval without his clothes; or 
 
54G 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAHT II. 
 
 that any general officer or commander of 
 a regiment passed a single night without 
 being upon his legs occasionally at differ 
 ent hours, and constantly an hour before 
 daylight." 
 
 Gates and his army, although equally 
 on the alert, had less labor and anxiety. 
 Their defensive works had already been 
 raised, and nothing was now left but to 
 strengthen them here and there. The 
 Americans were in high spirits ; for, al 
 though they did not claim the victory on 
 the 19th of September, they had been 
 able, with equal if not with fewer num 
 bers, to fight a drawn battle with the 
 choicest of the British troops, and were 
 thus encouraged to further effort. Rein 
 forcements, too, came thronging in : Gen 
 eral Lincoln had arrived, with two thou 
 sand New-Hampshire men ; and the mili 
 tia offered themselves freely from the sur 
 rounding country, which was now inspir 
 ited by the perils threatening Burgoyne, 
 and the triumphs awaiting Gates. Sup 
 plies also of food and ammunition were 
 daily brought into the American camp in 
 great abundance, while the scanty rations 
 of Burgoyne s soldiers were rapidly di 
 minishing. 
 
 There was, however, trouble brewing 
 111 the American camp. The impetuous 
 Arnold, never very submissive, had been 
 vexed into a great rage by the somewhat 
 arbitrary conduct of General Gates. On 
 the opening of the battle of the 19th, Ar 
 nold had repeatedly and urgently sent to 
 the general-in-chief for reinforcements be 
 fore his demand was complied with, and 
 he attributed the delay to an envious spir 
 it on the part of Gates. The next day, 
 
 Arnold importunately insisted 
 
 Sept, 20, 
 
 upon Gates giving battle to the 
 enemy ; but his advice, very intrusively 
 and persistently urged, was finally reject 
 ed, although the reason was left unex 
 plained. Gates s reason was a good one 
 (his supply of ammunition having given 
 out), but he did not deign to state it 
 leaving Arnold to put his own construc 
 tion upon his motives. The latter attrib 
 uted it to envy, and gave vent to his feel 
 ings of indignation. "I have lately ob 
 served," he wrote to Gates, "little or no 
 attention paid to any proposals I have 
 thought it my duty to make for the pub 
 lic service ; and when a measure I have 
 proposed has been agreed to,- it has been 
 immediately contradicted. I have been 
 received with the greatest coolness at 
 headquarters, and often huffed in such a 
 manner as must mortify a person with 
 less pride than I have, and in my station 
 in the army." 
 
 Arnold began to talk freely in camp of 
 Gates s opposition to him, and succeeded 
 in gaining the sympathy of some of the 
 officers, among whom there were those 
 who were attached to General Schuyler, 
 and were indignant that he should have 
 been superseded. He was thus encour 
 aged in the indulgence of his spirit of in 
 subordination. General Wilkinson, on the 
 other hand, was at that time a great par 
 tisan of Gates ; and, being unfriendly tow 
 ard Arnold,he lost no opportunity of grat 
 ifying the one and vexing the other. He 
 
 / O o 
 
 accordingly, with apparently no better 
 motive than piquing Arnold, induced the 
 commander-in-chief to issue the following 
 
 o 
 
 order: "Colonel Morgan s corps, not be- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] QUARREL BETWEEN GATES AND ARNOLD. 
 
 547 
 
 ing attached to any brigade or division 
 of the army, he is to make returns and re 
 ports to headquarters only, from whence 
 alone he is to receive orders." 
 
 This greatly angered Arnold, for he 
 declared it was notorious to the whole 
 army that Colonel Morgan s corps had 
 done duty "for some time past" with his 
 division. He hastened to headquarters, 
 and, confronting the conimander-in-chief, 
 " asserted his pretensions to the command 
 of the elite, and was ridiculed by General 
 Gates. High words and gross language 
 ensued."* In the course of this interview, 
 Gates told Arnold that he did not know 
 that he was a major-general, or had any 
 command in the army ! Arnold retired 
 in a great rage, and immediately wrote a 
 letter to Gates, in which he said : " As I 
 iind your observation very just, that I am 
 not or that you wish me of little conse 
 quence in the army, and as I have the in 
 terest and safety of my country at heart, 
 I wish to be where I can be of most ser 
 vice to her. I therefore, as General Lin 
 coln is arrived, have to request your pass 
 to Philadelphia, with my two aids-de-camp 
 and their servants, where I propose to join 
 General Washington ; and may possibly 
 
 * Wilkinson. 
 
 have it in my power to serve my coun 
 try, although I am thought of no conse 
 quence in this department." 
 
 Gates was well pleased thus easily to 
 get rid of one who, by his brilliant talents 
 and his dashing courage as a soldier, was 
 likely to throw into the shade the more 
 sober qualities of his superior. The pass 
 was immediately written and sent to Ar 
 nold, in accordance with his request. Sev 
 eral formal notes subsequently passed be 
 tween them, mutually recriminatory ; but 
 Arnold still lingered in camp, and finally 
 wrote to Gates, saying, " I am determined 
 to sacrifice my feelings, present peace, 
 and quiet, to the public good, and con 
 tinue in the army at this critical junc 
 ture, when my country needs every sup 
 port." 
 
 Arnold, therefore, remained without a 
 command, Gates himself having taken his 
 division on the left. It was, however, 
 freely rumored that General Lincoln was 
 to assume the command, which 
 he finally did. In the meantime, 
 Arnold blustered about the camp, and de 
 clared that it would be death to any offi 
 cer who should venture to interfere with 
 his division in the expected battle. :i: 
 
 * Irving. 
 
 Sept. 25. 
 
548 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 II. 
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton prepares for an Expedition. The American Forts on the Hudson. The Patriotic Clintons. ijenerai 
 Putnam at Peekskill. Sir Henry Clinton sails up the River." Old Put" astir. Mistaken Calculations. Landing 
 of the British. Governor George Clinton at Fort Montgomery. A Traitorous Messenger. Sir Henry Clinton lands 
 at Stony Point. The Plan of Attack. An Unexpected Resistance. Hard but Unsuccessful Struggle of the Ameri 
 cans. Demands for Surrender. The Refusal. Desperate Assault. The Americans overpowered. Escape of the 
 Clintons. The Loss on Both Sides. Count Gabrowski. Died like a Soldier. Burning of the American Vessels. 
 A Sublime Scene. Booms and Chevaux-de-Frise all gone. The Victorious Advance of the British. The Clintons 
 rallying again. A Spy, and the Effects of Tartar-Emetic. Sir Henry s Letter from Fort Montgomery. Esopus in 
 Ruins. Old Put discouraged. 
 
 1777, 
 
 ALTHOUGH General Bnrgoyne was 
 ignorant of the movements of Sir 
 
 o 
 
 Henry Clinton, that spirited officer was 
 losino- no time in doing all and even more 
 
 O O 
 
 than he had promised. The reinforce 
 ment from England of two thousand men, 
 under General Robertson, having been 
 " shipped in Dutch bottoms," did not ar 
 rive at New York until the end of Sep 
 tember, after a protracted voyage of three 
 months. On their arrival, Sir Henry was 
 ready to set out on his expedition up the 
 North river. He had already prepared 
 everything in advance. A fleet of trans 
 ports and flat-bottomed boats had been 
 anchored off the upper end of the island 
 of New York ; troops had been gathered 
 together at Kingsbridge a supply of 
 hard bread had been baked ; and as soon 
 as General Robertson and his troops land 
 ed to garrison New York in his absence, 
 Sir Henry Clinton embarked three thou 
 sand men and sailed up the Hudson. 
 
 General Putnam was still at Peekskill 
 with a force, however, reduced to the 
 small number of twelve hundred conti 
 nental troops and three hundred militia, 
 
 in consequence of the drafts made upon 
 him by Washington to reinforce the army 
 in Pennsylvania. The forts, too, on the 
 river were but feebly garrisoned. Fort 
 Independence, on the east side of the 
 Hudson, was near Putnam s post at Peeks- 
 kill ; but he could spare only a few men 
 from his meager force to defend it. Forts 
 Clinton and Montgomery, on the west 
 side and above, were manned by not more 
 than six hundred militia, divided between 
 the two. George Clinton, the governor 
 of New York, commanded Fort Montgom 
 ery, while his brother had charge of Fort 
 Clinton, which was situated a hundred 
 yards or so to the south, and separated 
 from the northern fort by a deep inlet 
 from the Hudson, called " Peplopenkill." 
 From a short distance above the kill to 
 Anthony s Nose, opposite, were stretched 
 a chevaux-de-frise, a boom, and a huge iron 
 chain, which, with the armed gallej^s, the 
 two frigates anchored above, and the guns 
 of the forts, were supposed to be an effect 
 ual obstacle to the ascent of the river. 
 
 General Putnam, at Peekskill, was on 
 the alert. He had received information 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 SIR HENRY CLINTON UP THE HUDSON. 
 
 549 
 
 of the arrival of British reinforcements 
 at New York, and of Sir Henry Clinton s 
 preparations for his expedition. The de 
 signs of the enemy he supposed to be 
 either "against the posts of the High 
 lands., or some part of the counties of 
 Westchester or Dutchess." He had sent 
 due notice to Governor Clinton, who was 
 absent at the time from his military post, 
 and engaged in the performance of his 
 civil functions elsewhere. The governor 
 immediately returned to Fort Montgom 
 ery, having first ordered out the militia 
 of the state of New York. 
 
 The farmers, as it was nearly seedtime, 
 and they had not yet sown their grain, 
 did not muster very readily at the call 
 of the governor. A considerable force 
 was, however, finally gathered ; part of 
 which was stationed at the forts, and the 
 rest sent to Peekskill. But the men be 
 came " extremely restless and uneasy ;" 
 and General Putnam, who in his old age 
 was becoming quite the reverse, gave ear 
 to the grumblings of the discontented 
 yeomen, and allowed them to return to 
 their fields. The governor, however, who 
 was disposed to be more exacting, called 
 one half of them back again, with the un 
 derstanding that, after they had served a 
 month, they should be dismissed, and the 
 other half called in to take their places. 
 While this plan was being carried into 
 effect, there was so much delay in set 
 tling who should serve first and who last, 
 that neither got ready in time to be of 
 service in the approaching emergency. 
 
 The wind having been unfavorable, Sir 
 Henry Clinton was detained till the night 
 of Saturday the 4th of October, when, 
 
 with a fair breeze, the fleet, under the 
 command of Commodore Holtham, stood 
 up the river. In advance sailed two men- 
 of-war, three tenders, and a large flotilla 
 of flat-bottomed boats. Soon after fol 
 lowed a frigate, five square-rigged vessels, 
 and a number of small craft. Putnam 
 was on the watch at Peekskill, and, hav 
 ing stationed guard-boats along the river, 
 soon heard of the enemy s approach. His 
 next intelligence was, that Sir Henry 
 Clinton had landed at Tarrytown, some 
 thirty miles from New York. This being 
 on the same side of the river, and below 
 Peekskill, " Old Put" quite made up his 
 mind that his post was Clinton s object, 
 and he accordingly sent off parties to 
 harass him, " if prudent," on his march. 
 
 Sir Henry, however, at that moment 
 had no designs upon Peekskill, and had 
 merely landed at Tarrytown in order to 
 divert Putnam from his real purpose. He 
 accordingly, after marching his men five 
 miles into the country ,marched them back 
 again, re-embarked them on board his ves 
 sels, and sailed farther up the river. Clin 
 ton, still bent upon concealing his object 
 from Putnam, proceeded up the Hudson 
 as far as Verplanck s Point, on the east 
 side, where he again landed with a con 
 siderable force, only eight miles below 
 Peekskill. Putnam was now still more 
 confident that his post and Fort Indepen 
 dence were threatened ; and while con 
 sulting with General Parsons, and cau 
 tiously reconnoitring the supposed posi 
 tion of the maiii body of the British, Sir 
 Henry Clinton, taking advantage of a fog 
 gy morning, crossed over next day at an 
 early hour from Verplanck s Point, with 
 
550 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 two of his three thousand men, to Stony 
 Point opposite, and marched for Forts 
 Clinton and Montgomery. 
 
 Putnam s scouts brought in word that 
 some of the enemy had landed on the 
 west side of the river, where a building 
 had been set on fire ; but it was supposed 
 that those who had crossed composed only 
 a small force, whose object was to burn 
 the storehouses at Stony Point, and that 
 the principal body still remained at Ver- 
 planck s Point. Putnam was not unde 
 ceived until he heard " a very heavy and 
 hot firing, both of small-arms and cannon, 
 at Fort Montgomery," which immediately 
 convinced him that the British had gone 
 over in the morning with a large force. 
 He then, at this late moment, detached 
 five hundred men to reinforce the garri 
 sons at Forts Montgomery and Clinton. 
 Before they could cross the river, howev 
 er, Sir Henry Clinton, as we shall see, had 
 gained his object. 
 
 Governor Clinton, at Fort Montgome 
 ry, was aroused to the danger threatening 
 the forts ; and, having first sent a messen 
 ger to General Putnam, asking for a rein 
 forcement, he ordered out Major Logan, 
 an alert officer, well acquainted with the 
 ground, with thirty men, to reconnoitre 
 and gain intelligence of the enemy. The 
 major did not return until nine o clock 
 the next morning, when he declared that, 
 from the sound he had heard of the row 
 ing of boats, he believed that the British 
 had crossed with a considerable force, but, 
 as the morning was foggy, it had been 
 impossible to see them and compute their 
 numbers. The governor, on hearing this 
 intelligence, despatched Lieutenant Jack 
 
 son, with a small party, to watch their 
 movements, and anxiously awaited a re 
 sponse to his message to General Putnam 
 asking reinforcements. These, however, 
 never came ; for the messenger proved a 
 traitor, and went over to the enemy. 
 
 Sir Henry, on landing at Stony Point, 
 left a strong guard there to secure his 
 communication with the war-ships, and 
 marched by a circuitous route toward the 
 forts, which were in a direct line, about 
 twelve miles distant. While the trans 
 ports were anchored off Stony Point, three 
 of the British men-of-war (the Tartar, the 
 Mercury, and the Preston) moved a short 
 distance up the river, and moored near 
 Fort Independence, in order, to keep the 
 Americans in check on that side of the 
 Hudson, and prevent Putnam from send 
 ing aid to the garrisons opposite. 
 
 The British, guided by a tory, well ac 
 quainted with the country, proceeded 
 through a narrow and rugged defile skirt 
 ing the western base of the Dunderberg 
 or Thunder mountain, which rises with 
 rocky cliffs abruptly from the border of 
 the Hudson. On reaching a ravine at 
 the north, between Dunderberg and Bear 
 hill, Sir Henry Clinton divided his force. 
 One division, under Lieutenant^Colonel 
 Campbell, was ordered to proceed to Fort 
 Montgomery, while Sir Henry himself led 
 the other against Fort Clinton. With 
 Campbell s division were nine hundred 
 men, some of whom were American loy 
 alists, under the command of Colonel Bev 
 erly Robinson, of New York; some Brit 
 ish grenadiers, led by the youthful Lord 
 Rawdon, who was accompanied by his 
 friend Count Gabrowski, a Pole ; and the 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. I FORTS CLINTON AND MONTGOMERY STORMED. 
 
 551 
 
 rest of the force was composed of Hes 
 sians. 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell was or 
 dered to make a circuitous march to the 
 west around Bear hill, and the rear of 
 Fort Montgomery, which he was directed 
 to attack when Sir Henry himself was pre 
 pared to begin upon Fort Clinton, toward 
 which he now led his division. 
 
 Sir Henry had but a small distance to 
 march, as Fort Clinton was the nearer of 
 the two fortresses, and could be reached 
 by a shorter circuit. While Campbell s 
 route led off to the left of Bear hill, that 
 of Sir Henry Clinton was to the right, 
 through a ravine, and thence in a direct 
 line to the fort, between a pond called 
 Sinipink lake and the river. 
 
 Sir Henry advanced cautiously, though 
 he deluded himself with the hope that 
 his movement was unsuspected. He soon 
 had reason to know that the Americans 
 were on the alert; for his advance-guard, 
 on reaching Doodletown, on the Haver- 
 straw road, fell in with Lieutenant Jack 
 son and his scouting-party, who had been 
 sent out to reconnoitre. The British fired 
 as Jackson came up, who, after giving 
 them a volley in return, was forced to re 
 treat with his handful of men. 
 
 The firing was heard at Fort Clinton, 
 and General James Clinton, who was in 
 command there, immediately despatched 
 fifty continental troops, under Lieuten 
 ant-Colonel Bruyn, and the same num 
 ber of militia, under Lieutenant-Colonel 
 M Claughrey, to meet Sir Henry and op 
 pose his approach. They soon became 
 engaged in a hot struggle, but the Brit 
 ish were too numerous for them, and they 
 
 fell back disputing the rough ground, 
 however, inch by inch, to the walls of the 
 fort, 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell s march 
 to Fort Montgomery, through the defile 
 on the west side of Bear hill, was no less 
 disputed than Sir Henry s advance to Fort 
 Clinton. Colonel Lamb (he who had so 
 gallantly served his battery at Quebec, 
 under Arnold) had been sent out with a 
 covering-party of sixty men from the fort, 
 to plant a fieldpiece in an advantageous 
 position,cornmanding the narrow and rug 
 ged path through which the enemy would 
 be obliged to advance. A second detach 
 ment of sixty were also ordered to follow 
 Lamb and sustain him. Campbell came 
 leading on his men at a quick pace, \vhen 
 he was suddenly brought to a check by 
 a discharge of grapeshot from Lamb s 
 gun and a well-directed fire of musketry 
 from the Americans posted on the high 
 ground on a border of the defile. 
 
 The shock was so severe, that the whole 
 British force was driven back, and at each 
 effort to push forward again was so effect 
 ually checked, that Campbell was obliged 
 to withdraw his men. He now, however, 
 divided his troops, and filing them off by 
 the right and the left through the woods, 
 attempted to surround the Americans, 
 who, seeing his purpose, abandoned their 
 fieldpiece, after first spiking it to render 
 it useless to the enemy, and then retired. 
 Governor Clinton, in order to cover their 
 retreat and harass the foe, ordered out a 
 twelve-pounder, which, being well served 
 with grapeshot, greatly annoyed the Brit 
 ish, and gave the Americans an opportu 
 nity of reaching the fort with very little 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT II. 
 
 loss, except the capture of Captain Fen- 
 no, who commanded the gun. 
 
 It was now about two o clock in the 
 afternoon, and the enemy continued to 
 push on toward the forts. They were, 
 however, so checked in their advance by 
 the abattis of felled trees and the opposi 
 tion they met, that they were not ready 
 to begin the attack till nearly five o clock. 
 Lieutenant- Colonel Campbell now ap 
 proached with a flag, when Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Livingston was sent out to meet 
 him, and demand his rank and business. 
 Campbell, having announced who he was, 
 said that he came to demand the surren 
 der of the fort in five minutes, to prevent 
 the further effusion of blood ; and he de 
 clared that, if the garrison would give 
 themselves up as prisoners-of-war, they 
 might depend upon being well treated. 
 Livingston rejected the proposition with 
 scorn, and informed Campbell that he 
 might begin his attack as soon as he 
 pleased, as it was determined to defend 
 the forts to the last extremity. 
 
 In about ten minutes the enemy at 
 tacked both posts with desperate ener;v. 
 
 o/ 
 
 They met with spirited resistance on the 
 part of the meager garrisons in the forts. 
 The numbers of the assailants, however, 
 were overwhelming. With fixed bayo 
 nets they came rushing against the forti 
 fications, nlounting on one another s shoul 
 ders, and climbing through the embra 
 sures by the sides of the guns, hot with 
 incessant firing. They crowded in upon 
 the ramparts, but the brave garrison still 
 resisted, fighting desperately in a hand- 
 to-hand struggle. Seeing themselves, how 
 ever, surrounded on all sides, and night 
 
 coming on, the Americans found it use 
 less to dispute the possession any longer. 
 Most w r ere obliged to throw down their 
 arms and surrender; but others fought 
 their way through the enemy, and thus 
 escaped. Among these were Governor 
 Clinton and his brother James. The lat 
 ter, though wounded in the thigh, slid 
 down a precipice one hundred feet high, 
 into the ravine between the forts, and got 
 off through the woods. His brother, the 
 governor,let himself down the steep rocks 
 and reached the river-side just as a boat 
 was pushing off with a number of other 
 fugitives. They pulled back to take him 
 in ; but as the boat was loaded down to 
 the gunwale, he declined to- go, for fear 
 of risking their safety. They, however, 
 having insisted, and declared that the boat 
 could easily hold him, he was induced to 
 get in, and succeeded in crossing the Hud 
 son in safety. He now hastened to join 
 General Putnam.* 
 
 The loss of the Americans in killed, 
 wounded, and prisoners, amounted to al 
 most three hundred ; that of the enemy, 
 in killed and wounded, to only a hundred 
 and forty. The British loss in officers 
 was, as usual, disproportionately large. 
 Among those who fell were Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Campbell, who led the division 
 against Fort Montgomery ; Major Grant, 
 of the New- York loyalists ; Captain Stew 
 art, of the grenadiers ; and Major Lile, of 
 the sixty-third regiment. The gallant 
 count Gabrowski likewise fell, mortally 
 wounded by three balls. He had ad 
 vanced to the storming of the fort by 
 the side of his young friend Lord Kaw- 
 
 * Irving. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] TUP: BRITISH TRIUMPHANT ON THE HUDSON. 
 
 553 
 
 don (afterward the marquis of Hastings), 
 at the head of the British grenadiers. As 
 they became entangled among the felled 
 trees, and each man was obliged to find 
 a path for himself, Gabrowski was sepa 
 rated from his lordship, when he received 
 the fatal shot. As he fell, he took the 
 sword from his side, and, handing it to a 
 grenadier, begged him to deliver it to 
 Lord Kawdon, and tell him that he had 
 died like a soldier. 
 
 It was dusk when the struggle ceased, 
 and dark night before the fall of the forts 
 became known to those on board the 
 American vessels which were stationed 
 above the chevaux-de-frise across the river. 
 As they feared that Admiral Holtham 
 who, during the contest on shore, had 
 moved up, and while cannonading the 
 forts had brought his ships within gun 
 shot of the American frigates and galleys 
 would now direct his attention to them, 
 an attempt was made to get them so far 
 above the chevaux-de-frise as* to be out of 
 reach. The officers accordingly called 
 all hands to slip the cables, hoist sail, and 
 o-et under weigh. The vessels, however, 
 
 O 3 ^ 
 
 being badly manned, the tide on the ebb, 
 and the wind having died away, it was 
 found impossible to manage them. The 
 frigate Montgomery, which was nearest 
 to the chain, lost her headway and drift 
 ed down so close t:, the enemy, that the 
 captain and his crew were forced to set 
 lire to and abandon her. The other frig 
 ate, the Congress, got aground near Fort 
 Constitution, and was burnt, as were also 
 the two galleys and the sloop. 
 
 " The flames," says Stedrnan,the British 
 annalist, " suddenly broke forth, and, as 
 70 
 
 Oct. 7, 
 
 every sail was set, the vessels soon be 
 came magnificent pyramids of fire. The 
 reflection on the steep face of the oppo 
 site mountain, and the long train of rud 
 dy light which shone upon the water for 
 a prodigious distance, had a wonderful 
 effect; while the ear was awfully filled 
 with the continued echoes from the rocky 
 shores, as the flames gradually reached 
 the loaded cannons. The whole was sub 
 limely terminated by the explosions,which 
 left all a<rain in darkness." 
 
 O 
 
 The next day, the boom, chain, chev- 
 aux-de-frise, and all, which had cost a quar 
 ter of a million of dollars, were 
 destroyed by the English sailors ; 
 and a flying squadron of small frigates, 
 under Sir James Wallace, with a detach 
 ment of British troops on board, com 
 manded by General Vaughan, moved tri 
 umphantly up the Hudson. On land, Fort 
 Constitution, opposite West Point, and 
 Fort Independence, near Peekskill, were 
 abandoned. General Vaughan now land 
 ed his force and inarched against Esopus 
 (now Kingston), and, having put to flight 
 a small band of militia, burnt the village 
 to the ground, together with a large sup 
 ply of military stores. 
 
 General Putnam, after the fall of the 
 forts, retired from Peekskill, and, march 
 ing along the east side of the Hudson, 
 posted himself in a defile in the mount 
 ains near Fishkill. Governor Clinton, in 
 the meantime, having collected two con 
 tinental regiments and a straggling force 
 of militia, moved along the western side 
 of the river, with the view of keeping be 
 tween the enemy and Albany, where he 
 hoped to be joined by General Putnam, 
 
554 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II 
 
 who was to proceed along the eastern 
 
 bank. 
 
 On reaching New Windsor, Governor 
 
 Clinton s advanced guards brought in a 
 
 couple of British spies, on their way from 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton to General Burgoyne. 
 
 One of them, as soon as caught, was ob 
 served to put something into his 
 
 Octi 9 
 
 mouth and swallow it. A severe 
 
 dose of tartar-emetic was at once admin 
 istered, which brought from him a .small 
 silver bullet. In the hollow of it was 
 found this letter: 
 
 " FORT MONTGOMERY, Oct. 8, 1777. 
 "Nous y void, and nothing between us 
 but Gates. I sincerely hope this little 
 success of ours may facilitate your opera 
 tions. In answer to your letter of the 
 20th Sept., by C. C., I shall only say I can 
 not presume to order or even advise, for 
 reasons obvious. I heartily wish you suc 
 cess. Faithfully yours, 
 
 H. CLINTON." 
 
 The spy, moreover, confessed that Cap 
 tain Campbell, who had brought despatch 
 es from General Burgoyne, w r as on his re 
 turn, with the news of the fall of Forts 
 Clinton and Montgomery. He started on 
 the 8th of October. Governor Clinton 
 
 now followed close upon the heels of Gen 
 eral Vaughan, but readied Esopus only 
 in time to find it in ruins. He then, af 
 ter hanging the British spies to an apple- 
 tree, moved forward, spiritedly resolved 
 to do his best to frustrate the enemy in 
 their endeavor to reach Albany before 
 him. 
 
 " Old Put" was evidently very much 
 discouraged. On the 8th of October, he 
 wrote to General Gates, saying, " I can 
 not flatter you or myself with the hopes 
 of preventing the enemy s advancing ; 
 therefore, prepare for the worst." The 
 next day his words are still less cheerful : 
 " The Connecticut militia came in yester 
 day and the day before in great numbers, 
 but I am sorry to say they already begin 
 to run away. The enemy can take a fair 
 wind, and, with their flat-bottomed boats, 
 which have all sails, go to Albany or Half- 
 Moon with great expedition, and I be 
 lieve without opposition." 
 
 In the meantime, we shall see that 
 great events were occuring in the North, 
 destined to change the relative prospects 
 which seemed so dismal for the Ameri 
 cans and so encouraging to the British 
 on the North river. Let us now go back 
 to the hostile camps near Saratoga. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] BURGOYNE S STRAITS. ARNOLD IMPATIEN1. 
 
 555 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 Battle of Bemis s Heights continued. The Opposing Armies. General Burgoyne in the Dark. His Diminishing Sup 
 plies. His Impatience. General Gates strong, confident, and patient. Arnold in a Hurry. "To Arms!" The 
 Game begun. The Order of Battle. The Conflict. Fall of General Eraser. The Tragic Scene. Stained with 
 British Blood. The Wounded Ackland. The Mad Arnold. He is down, but up again. The Victory. 
 
 1777- 
 
 Sept, 19, 
 
 THE two armies of Burgoyne and 
 Gates remained within cannon-shot 
 of each other ; neither having yielded an 
 inch of ground since the bloody conflict 
 of Bemis s heights. Both con 
 tinued busy with their fortifica 
 tions, and the adjoining forest resounded 
 from mornino- till nio;ht with the strokes 
 
 O o 
 
 of the axe. Burgoyne was waiting anx 
 iously for further news from Sir Henry 
 Clinton. It was now the 7th of October, 
 and he had received no intelligence since 
 the arrival of the spy in his camp on the 
 night of the 20th of September. He knew 
 nothing of Clinton s success on the North 
 river of his capture of the forts Mont 
 gomery and Clinton ; of the advance of 
 the British fleet up the Hudson ; and of 
 the unopposed march of General Vaughan, 
 who was hastening to Albany, to bring 
 hope to Burgoyne of a junction, and of 
 a triumphant result to his eventful cam 
 paign. 
 
 The necessities, however, of the British 
 commander, made him impatient; and, 
 receiving no intelligence from Sir Henry 
 Clinton, he could wait no longer. His 
 provisions were so rapidly diminishing, 
 that he had been already obliged to re 
 duce the rations of each soldier ; and now 
 
 that he prepared to give battle, his wants 
 were so urgent, that he was about stri 
 king a blow more from necessity than 
 from policy. 
 
 General Gates, on the other hand, with 
 his daily increasing strength, and the con 
 stantly diminishing resources of his an 
 tagonist, was not disposed to hurry into 
 action, and put to the hazard of a battle 
 the certainties of a position which were 
 proving so fatal to his adversary. The 
 impatient Arnold, in the meanwhile, was 
 striving by his importunate communica 
 tions to provoke him to engage the ene 
 my : "I think it my duty," he wrote to 
 Gates, " (which nothing shall deter me 
 from doing) to acquaint you the army 
 .ire clamorous for action." The general- 
 in-chief, however, wisely gave no heed to 
 Arnold s advice, which was intrusively 
 urged more to irritate than to guide. He 
 prudently waited until Burgoyne should 
 make the first move. He did not wait 
 long. 
 
 On the afternoon of the 7th of October, 
 the advanced guard of the American cen 
 tre suddenly beat to arms. The alarm 
 at once ran throughout the line, and the 
 troops hurried to their posts. General 
 Gates, who was at his headquarters, ea- 
 
550 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [1 ART 11. 
 
 srerlv caught at the sound of the drums, 
 
 o */ O 
 
 and immediately sent off Adjutant-Gen 
 eral Wilkinson to seek out the cause. 
 Wilkinson., mounting his horse, galloped 
 to the guard which had first struck up 
 the alarm, but could learn nothing more 
 than that some person had reported that 
 the British were advancing against the 
 American left. He then rode forward for 
 some distance in front, and as he reached 
 the rising ground he saw several columns 
 of the enemy moving into a field of stand 
 ing wheat to the left, about half a mile 
 from the line of the American encamp 
 ment. After getting into the field, the 
 
 O {~f 
 
 British troops formed a double line, and 
 the soldiers sat down, with their muskets 
 between their knees, while the foragers 
 began to cut the wheat. Some of their 
 officers in the meantime had mounted a 
 hut, and with their glasses were striving 
 to reconnoitre the American left, which 
 was almost hid from their view by the 
 intervening forests. 
 
 Wilkinson now galloped back to head 
 quarters, and reported to Gates what he 
 had seen. 
 
 " What do they seem to be doing ?" 
 asked the general. 
 
 " They are foraging, and endeavoring 
 to reconnoitre your left; and I think, sir, 
 they oiler you battle." 
 
 " What is the nature of the ground, and 
 what your opinion ?" rejoined Gates. 
 
 Their front is open, and their flanks 
 rest on woods, under cover of which they 
 may be attacked ; their right is skilled 
 by a lofty height," answered Wilkinson. 
 I would indulge them," he added. 
 
 " Well, then, order on Morgan to begin 
 
 the game," was the reply ; when Wilkin 
 son immediately galloped off to do as he 
 was bidden. 
 
 The British commander, having left 
 Generals Hamilton and Specht to guard 
 his line on the plain, and General Gall 
 the fortifications on the flats bordering 
 the Hudson river, had advanced with fif 
 teen hundred men, under the several com 
 mands of Generals Fraser, Phillips, and 
 De Reidesel, and ten pieces of artillery, 
 to the right of his encampment, and about 
 half a mile beyond the American left. 
 Burgoyne was now stationed where Wil 
 kinson had observed him, in the wheat- 
 field. The foragers having supplied them 
 selves, and Burgoyne having sent forward 
 a party of Canadians and Indians, began 
 to deploy his troops into line. In his 
 centre were placed some British and Ger 
 man regiments, under Phillips and De 
 Reidesel; on his left the grenadiers and 
 artillery, under Majors Ackland and Wil 
 liams, bordering a w r ood and a small ra 
 vine, through which flowed a rivulet; on 
 his extreme right was Lord Balcarras, 
 with the English light-infantry, and five 
 hundred men in advance led by General 
 Fraser, the latter being covered by the 
 well-wooded heights on the west of the 
 carnp, and by a " worm-fence." 
 
 The Canadians and Indians, being now 
 pushed forward, commenced an irregular 
 attack upon the advanced pickets on the 
 American left. They succeeded in dri 
 ving the guards before them close to the 
 American redoubt called " Fort Neilson," 
 which had been raised by Gates to pro 
 tect his left toward the hills. Colonel 
 Morgan, however, having received orders 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. J 
 
 SECOND BATTLE OF BEMIS S HEIGHTS. 
 
 557 
 
 tomarch.was leading his riflemen through 
 
 O o 
 
 the woods, in order to gain the heights 
 to the right of the enemy, when he came 
 upon the Indian and Canadian party, and 
 soon forced it back to the British lines. 
 
 Morgan now continued his circuitous 
 route through the woods, and was hast 
 ening to begin his attack; while General 
 Gates, as had been agreed upon, was wait 
 ing for him to come up with the enemy s 
 right before he himself should send out a 
 force against their left, Sufficient time 
 had elapsed for Morgan to make his cir 
 cuit, and Gates now accordingly ordered 
 General Poor s brigade of New- York and 
 New-Hampshire troops to move against 
 Burgoy ne s left flank and front. 
 
 The two attacks were made simultane 
 ously. Morgan had reached the heights 
 in the very nick of time, and from the 
 cover of the woods poured down upon 
 the enemy below a torrent of fire. The 
 English light-infantry, under General Fra 
 ser, taken on their flank, were manoeuvring 
 to change their front in order to meet 
 the shock, when at this moment Major 
 Dearborn (who was Morgan s second in 
 command) pushed his corps rapidly for 
 ward. After delivering a close and mur 
 derous fire, the men leaped the "worm- 
 fence," and, charging with a loud shout, 
 forced the British to retire. 
 
 The young earl of Balcarras, however, 
 coming up to the aid of Fraser, the men 
 were rallied, and renewed the struggle. 
 General Fraser, in the full uniform of a 
 British field-officer, and mounted upon a 
 fine gray horse, was soon a marked object 
 to the American riflemen. One rifle-ball 
 had already cut in two the crupper, and 
 
 another had passed through the mane of 
 his charger; when his aid-de-camp, observ 
 ing his danger, rode up to his side, and 
 begged that, as the marksmen were cer 
 tainly singling him out, he would take a 
 less exposed position. " My duty forbids 
 me to fly from danger," firmly answered 
 the brave Fraser ; and he fell almost as 
 he spoke. 
 
 Morgan, having called two or three of 
 his best marksmen to his side, and, point 
 ing to the doomed Briton, had said : " Do 
 yon see that gallant officer ? That is Gen 
 eral Fraser. I respect and honor him ; 
 but it is necessary he should die !" He 
 fell, as we have seen, mortally wounded, 
 and was carried off the field. Fraser s 
 loss was deeply felt by the British troops ; 
 but Lord Balcarras spiritedly urged them 
 on to revenge his death, and they strug 
 gled manfully to hold their ground. 
 
 In the meantime, General Poor s bri 
 gade advanced steadily and silently, for 
 each soldier had been ordered not to fire 
 a shot until the first discharge from the 
 enemy. The British grenadiers and ar 
 tillery are drawn up on a rising ground 
 to the left of Burgoyne, and grim as the 
 solemn pines which cover them, stand 
 with poised musket and loaded cannon, 
 ready to begin their work of death upon 
 the approaching columns. The Ameri 
 cans reach the slope, and are rapidly but 
 deliberately marching up, when the ene 
 my open their fire. The Americans now 
 pour back a volley in return, and, with 
 out faltering, push right on, with a loud 
 hurrah. They rush up the hill, driving 
 the grenadiers before them, and strug 
 gling hand \ hand with the artillerymen 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 for the possession of the cannon. The 
 enemy rally and come back again to the 
 attack, and the conflict is renewed with 
 greater fierceness than ever: when final- 
 
 O 
 
 ly the Americans gain possession of the 
 ground, and the British are driven within 
 their encampment. 
 
 The spectacle which presented itself 
 on this part of the field of battle at that 
 moment was a mingled one of tragic hor 
 ror and wild excitement. Upon the earth, 
 within the space of ten or fifteen yards, 
 were stretched eighteen grenadiers in the 
 agonies of death. Three British officers, 
 two of them mortally wounded and bleed 
 ing profusely,lay with their heads propped 
 up against some stumps of trees. Colonel 
 Cilley, of New Hampshire, straddling a 
 brass twelve-pounder, loudly exulted in 
 its capture ; while a surgeon, who was 
 dressing a wound, raised his bloody hands, 
 exclaiming, "I have dipped my hands in 
 British blood !" 
 
 Such was the scene, as he tells us, wit 
 nessed by General Wilkinson, when he 
 came up with Ten Broeck s brigade of 
 militia, which he had been sent for to 
 reinforce General Poor s division, and aid 
 in the pursuit of the retreating enemy. 
 
 As he rode on, Wilkinson saw another 
 and sadder spectacle still. " Turning my 
 eyes," says he, " it was my fortune to ar 
 rest the purpose of a lad, thirteen or four 
 teen years old, in the act of taking aim 
 at a wounded officer who lay in the angle 
 of a worm-fence. Inquiring his rank, he 
 answered, I had the honor to command 
 the grenadiers. Of course, I knew him to 
 be Major Ackland, who had been brought 
 from the field to this place on the back 
 
 of a Captain Shimpton of his own corp/, 
 under a heavy fire, and was here depos 
 ited to save the lives of both. I dismount 
 ed, took him by the hand, and expressed 
 the hope that he was not badly wounded. 
 Not badly, he replied, but very incon 
 veniently; I am shot through both legs. 
 Will you, sir, have the goodness to have 
 me conveyed to your camp ? " Wilkin 
 son, having; ordered his servant to alight 
 
 / o * > 
 
 from his horse, they lifted Ackland into 
 the saddle, and sent him to the American 
 headquarters. 
 
 When the fresh reinforcement of three 
 thousand New-York militia, under Ten 
 Broeck, together with Learned s brigade, 
 came up, the action became general. Mor 
 gan was slowly but surely forcing the 
 enemy s right before him ; their left had 
 given way before Poor s brigade ; but 
 the British grenadiers were disputing ev 
 ery inch of ground as they retired : and 
 now the reserved troops sent forward by 
 General Gates were hotly engaged with 
 Burgoyne s centre, principally composed 
 of Hessians, and led by the commander- 
 in-chief himself. 
 
 General Arnold, who had remained in 
 the camp, as he declared he would, was 
 without command. When the battle be 
 gan, however, his impetuous nature fret 
 ted greatly against the constraint of his 
 position. On the first beat to arms, he 
 mounted his black horse, and rode about 
 the camp, talking loudly and fiercely of 
 his wrongs, and, brandishing his sword, 
 threatened vengeance against those who 
 had dared to revile and injure him. Such 
 was his state of excitement, that it was 
 believed that, in his attempt to drown his 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] MAD PRANKS OF ARNOLD. THE VICTORY. 
 
 troubles in wine, he had drunk so freely 
 as to lose all sell-control. Dashing about 
 thus, in wild agitation, he no sooner saw 
 that the engagement with the enemy had 
 become general, than he spurred his horse 
 furiously into the midst of the fight, where 
 General Learned s brigade on the left 
 which had belonged to Arnold s own di 
 vision was bravely struggling with the 
 Hessians, who formed the British centre. 
 Here Arnold assumed the command, and, 
 riding in front along the line, he led the 
 American troops forward again and again, 
 and broke the ranks of the Germans at 
 every charge. But, gallantly as his men 
 pushed on, nothing seemed to satisfy the 
 mad fury of their commander, W 7 ho con 
 tinued to dash about wildly, spurring his 
 charger to the height of his speed, and, 
 flourishing his sword, fiercely to call upon 
 his troops to come on. In his mad ex 
 citement, he became so beside himself, 
 that he struck one of the officers upon 
 the head and severely wounded him, with 
 out being conscious (as he afterward de 
 clared) of the act. On the impulse of the 
 moment, the officer raised his fusee to 
 shoot Arnold, but, suddenly checking him 
 self, he began to remonstrate ; when the 
 general was off again, digging the spurs 
 into his horse, and riding to another part 
 of the field, like a madman. 
 
 General Gates being told of the erratic 
 movements of Arnold, sent Major Arm 
 strong after him, with orders. Arnold, 
 however, as soon as he caught a glimpse 
 of him, and probably aware of his object, 
 only quickened the speed of his horse, 
 and led the major such a break-neck chase 
 
 hither and thither, that he was fain to 
 give up the pursuit. He was now on the 
 American right, and again in a moment 
 to the extreme left, having dashed along 
 the whole length of the line, between the 
 fires of the two armies, without receiving 
 a wound or even the graze of a shot. 
 
 Morgan and Dearborn, on the Ameri 
 can left, had succeeded in driving Lord 
 Balcarras and his light-infantry within 
 their intrenchments. Arnold dashed up, 
 and, calling upon a company of riflemen 
 in advance to follow him, strove to force 
 his way into the enemy s camp. Finding 
 his efforts foiled here by the gallant re 
 sistance of Balcarras, he turned his horse 
 and galloped to his left, where Lieuten 
 ant Colonel Brooks was storming the ex 
 treme right of the British fortifications, 
 held by a reserve of Hessians, under Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Breyman. In spite vabat- 
 tis and redoubts, the Germans are obliged 
 to give way, having first lost their spir 
 ited commander; and Arnold is among 
 the first to dash with his horse through 
 a sally-port right in the midst of the en 
 emy, who fire a last volley as they retire, 
 killing Arnold s black charger, and stretch 
 ing his rider upon the ground with a shot 
 in the same knee which was w T ounded at 
 Quebec. 
 
 By this success of the Americans on 
 the extreme right, the whole British en 
 campment was laid open ; but, as night 
 was rapidly coining on, and the troops 
 were fatigued by hard fighting, General 
 Gates did not further push his advantage, 
 but remained satisfied with the glorious 
 victory of the day. 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 Comparative Strength of the two Armies. The Killed and Wounded. The British retreat. A Trying Night. The 
 Baroness Ileidesel. Her Sad Experiences. Lady Harriet Ackland. A Wife mourning for her Lord. The Death 
 of General Fniser. His Burial. Honors to a Gidlant Enemy. A Dismal Night. The Journey of the Baroness 
 Ileidesel. Her Husband and Children. An Expected Attack. Saving the Valuables. The Baroness in Trouble. 
 General Gates takes Possession of the Abandoned Intrenchments. Lady Ackland. Woman s Devotion. Visit to 
 the American Camp. A tolerably Comfortable Night. A Happy Meeting. Continued Retreat of the British. Pur 
 suit by Gates. Headquarters in a Hovel. Alarm of the Enemy. Further Trials of the Baroness. A " Horrid 
 Situation." 
 
 1777, 
 
 Oct. 7, 
 
 THE second battle near Bemis s 
 heights had lasted from noon until 
 night. General Gates had undoubtedly 
 much the superior force, although the 
 
 numbers on both sides actually 
 
 engaged in the fight were near 
 ly equal. General Burgoyne s whole ar 
 my amounted to less than six thousand ; 
 that of Gates to two or three thousand 
 more than that number. The loss of the 
 former in killed, wounded, and prisoners, 
 was about seven hundred, among whom 
 were a number of officers of high rank, in 
 cluding General Fraser, Lieutenant-Colo 
 nel Breyman, Sir Francis Clarke, an aid 
 of Burgoyne, and others. Burgoyne him 
 self was greatly exposed ; his hat was 
 shot through, and his waistcoat torn by 
 a ball. The Americans lost but one hun 
 dred and fifty in killed and wounded ; 
 General Arnold was the only commis 
 sioned officer who even received a con 
 tusion, and he was without a command. 
 Burgoyne, finding his position 
 
 untenable, broke up his camp 
 and moved his whole army in the midst 
 of the night after the battle, to some 
 heights near the river Hudson, and about 
 
 Oct. 7, 
 
 a mile to the northward of his former en 
 campment. The trials and incidents of 
 that night have been recorded in affect 
 ing words by the baroness Reidesel, who 
 entered in her narrative the events of the 
 whole day as well as of the night. "Se 
 vere trials," she writes, " awaited us ; and 
 on the 7th of October our misfortunes 
 began. I was at breakfast with my hus 
 band, and heard that something was in 
 tended. On the same day I expected 
 Generals Burgoyne, Phillips, and Fraser, 
 to dine with us. I saw a great move 
 ment among the troops : my husband told 
 me it was merely a reconnoissance, which 
 gave me no concern, as it often happened. 
 I walked out of the house and met sev 
 eral Indians, in their war-dresses, with 
 guns in their hands. When I asked them 
 where they were going, they cried out. 
 War! ivar / (meaning that they were 
 going to battle). This filled me with ap 
 prehension, and I had scarcely got home 
 before I heard reports of cannon and mus 
 ketry, which grew louder by degrees, till 
 at last the noise became excessive. 
 
 "About four o clock in the afternoon, 
 instead of the guests whom I expected, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE BARONESS REIDESEL. DEATH OF FRASER. 
 
 561 
 
 General Eraser was brought on a litter, 
 mortally wounded. The table, which was 
 already set, was instantly removed, and 
 a bed placed in its stead for the wounded 
 general. I sat trembling in a corner ; the 
 noise grew louder and the alarm increased. 
 The thought that my husband might per 
 haps be brought in, wounded in the same 
 manner, was terrible to me, and distressed 
 me exceedingly. General Fraser said to 
 the surgeon : Tell me if my wound is 
 mortal ; do not flatter me. The ball had 
 passed through his body, and unhappily 
 lor the general he had eaten a very hearty 
 breakfast, by which the stomach was dis 
 tended ; and the ball, as the surgeon said, 
 had passed through it. I heard him often 
 exclaim, with a sigh : fatal ambition ! 
 Poor General Burgoyne ! my poor 
 wife ! He was asked if he had any re 
 quest to make, to which he replied that, 
 if General Burgoyne would permit it, 
 he should like to be buried at six o clock 
 in the evening, on the top of a mountain, 
 in a redoubt which had been built there. 
 " 1 did not know which way to turn ; 
 all the other rooms were full of sick. Tow 
 ard evening I saw my husband coming; 
 then I forgot all my sorrows, and thanked 
 God that he was spared to me. He ate 
 in great haste, with me and his aid-de 
 camp, behind the house. We had been 
 told that we had the advantage of the 
 enemy, but the sorrowful faces I beheld 
 told a different tale ; and before my hus 
 band went away, he took me on one side, 
 and said everything was going very bad ; 
 that I must keep myself in readiness to 
 leave the place, but not to mention it to 
 
 any one. I made the pretence that I 
 71 
 
 would move the next morning into my 
 new house, and had everything packed 
 up ready. 
 
 " Lady Harriet Ackland had a tent no 
 far from our house ; in this she slept, and 
 the rest of the day she was in the camp. 
 All of a sudden, a man came to tell her 
 that her husband was mortally wounded, 
 and taken prisoner. On hearing this, she 
 became very miserable. We comforted 
 her by telling her that the wound was 
 only slight, and at the same time advised 
 her to go over to her husband, to do which 
 she would certainly obtain permission, 
 and then she could attend him herself. 
 She was a charming woman, and very 
 fond of him. I spent much of the night 
 in comforting her, and then went again 
 to my children, whom I had put to bed. 
 
 " I could not go to sleep, as I had Gen 
 eral Fraser and all the other wounded 
 gentlemen in my room ; and I was sadly 
 afraid my children would awake, and by 
 their crying disturb the dying man in his 
 last moments, who often addressed me, 
 and apologized for the trouble he gave 
 me. About three o clock in the morn 
 ing I was told he could not hold out much 
 longer. I had desired to be informed of 
 the near approach of this sad crisis ; and 
 I then wrapped up my children in their 
 clothes, and went with them into the room 
 below. About eight o clock in the morn 
 ing he died. 
 
 . . . . " The corpse was brought out, and 
 we saw all the generals attend it to the 
 mountain ; the chaplain, Mr. Bru- 
 denell,performed the funeral ser 
 vice, rendered unusually solemn and aw 
 ful from its being accompanied by con- 
 
56: 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 I AKT II. 
 
 slant peals from the enemy s artillery. 
 Many cannon-balls flew close by me, but 
 I had my eyes directed toward the mount- 
 ain,where my husband was standing, amid 
 the fire of the enemy, and of course I 
 could not think of my own danger." 
 
 General Burgoyne had not hesitated to 
 grant the dying request of his brave and 
 true-hearted friend, notwithstanding the 
 delay and inconvenience which it caused 
 to the retreat he contemplated. Burgoyne 
 has also left a touching description of the 
 scene of the burial of General Fraser, and 
 recorded his admiration and love for the 
 gallant soldier : "The incessant cannon 
 ade daring the ceremony ; the steady at 
 titude and unaltered voice with which the 
 chaplain officiated, though frequently cov 
 ered with dust which the shot threw up 
 on all sides of him ; the mute but expres 
 sive mixture of sensibility and indigna 
 tion upon every countenance ; these ob 
 jects will remain to the last of life upon 
 the mind of every man who was present. 
 The growing darkness added to the scene 
 ry, and the whole marked a character of 
 that juncture which would make one of 
 the finest subjects for the pencil of a mas 
 ter that the field ever exhibited. To the 
 canvas and to the faithful page of a more 
 important historian, gallant friend ! I con 
 sign thy memory. There may thy tal 
 ents, thy manly virtues, their progress 
 and their period, find due distinction; and 
 long may they survive long after the 
 frail record of my pen shall be forgotten!" 
 
 The firing from the American lines was 
 in consequence of ignorance of the object 
 of the gathering upon the height. When 
 it was discovered, the artillery no longer 
 
 Ocl, 8, 
 
 threw hostile shot,but discharged minute- 
 guns in honor of the memory of Fraser, 
 whose gallantry was acknowledged both 
 by friend and foe. 
 
 As soon as Burgoyne had paid the last 
 sad duties to his brave comrade, he began 
 his retreat, The fires in the old 
 camp were left burning,and some 
 tents standing ; and orders were given to 
 the troops to move in profound silence. 
 The night was stormy; the rain poured 
 in torrents, and it was with the greatest 
 difficulty that the weak and half-starved 
 horses could draw the baggage-wagons 
 over the broken roads in which the wheels 
 sank deep into the mire. Constant halts 
 took place, to give the wearied troops 
 moments of rest, and to bring up by the 
 river the lagging boats, laden with the 
 artillery and stores. The sad march con 
 tinued from time to time throughout that 
 dismal night. 
 
 Burgoyne had left his sick and wound 
 ed behind him, in the hospital in his late 
 camp, with a letter to Gates, commend 
 ing them to the protection " which I feel, 
 wrote the British commander, " I should 
 show to an enemy in the same case." 
 Some of the wounded officers, however, 
 in spite of their injuries, crept from their 
 beds, and determined; rather than stay 
 behind, to suffer all the tortures of a pain 
 ful journey. The officers wives who were 
 with the army were sent on in advance. 
 The baroness Reidesel s calami was made 
 ready for her, but she would not consent 
 to go before the troops. The baron, see 
 ing her thus exposed to danger by re 
 maining in the rear, ordered the children 
 and servants into the carriage, and inti- 
 
KEVOLUTIOXA RY.] 
 
 GENERAL BURGOYNE RETREATS. 
 
 56:3 
 
 mated to his wife to follow and depart 
 without delay. " I still prayed," says the 
 baroness, "to remain; but my husband, 
 knowing my weak side, said. Well, then, 
 your children must go, that at least they 
 may be safe from danger. " She then con 
 sented, got into her calash, and drove off. 
 At six o clock the next morn 
 ing there was a full halt. " The 
 delay," says the baroness (whose anxie 
 ties were naturally for her husband and 
 her children), -seemed to displease every 
 body ; for, if we could have only made 
 another good march, we should have been 
 in safety." Burgoyne was, however, pru 
 dently preparing against the chances of 
 attack from his triumphant enemy in the 
 rear. He halted in order to count and 
 range his cannon, and to bring his strag 
 gling troops out of the confusion unavoid 
 able in a hurried retreat. He soon found 
 reason for his discretion ; for he had hard 
 ly begun his march, when the alarm was 
 given that the enemy were in sight. A 
 halt was again immediately ordered ; but 
 it was soon discovered that the fright had 
 come from a small reconnoitring-party of 
 Americans, only two hundred strong. 
 
 In the meantime, however, the retreat 
 ing army expected an engagement, and 
 prepared for the worst. Some of the Ger 
 man officers collected their valuables, and 
 strove to place them in security, so that 
 their property might have a chance of 
 safety, whatever might be the risks to 
 which their lives were exposed. " Cap 
 tain Willoe," says the baroness, " brought 
 me a bag full of bank-notes, and Captain 
 Geismar his elegant watch, a ring, and a 
 purse full of money, which they request 
 
 ed me to take care of, and which I prom 
 ised to do to the utmost of my power." 
 
 The army, nevertheless, soon recovered 
 from its fright,and moved slowly on again. 
 But the poor baroness, with the anxieties 
 for her husband, the care of her little chil 
 dren, and her despairing servants, was 
 overwhelmed with trouble. " One of my 
 waiting-women," she says, " was in a state 
 of despair which approached to madness. 
 She cursed, and tore her hair; and when 
 I attempted to reason with her, and to 
 pacify her, she asked me if I was not 
 grieved at our situation ; and, upon my 
 saying, I am, she tore her cap off her 
 head, and let her hair drop over her face, 
 saying to me : It is very easy for you 
 to be composed and talk ; you have your 
 husband with you : I have none, and what 
 remains to me but the prospect of perish 
 ing, or losing all I have ? " All that the 
 baroness could do was to bid her take 
 comfort, and promise that she should be 
 compensated for all her losses. 
 
 " About evening," continues the baron 
 ess, " we arrived at Saratoga. My dress 
 was wet through and through with rain, 
 and in that state I had to remain 
 the whole night, having no place 
 to change it. I, however, got close to a 
 large fire, and at last lay clown on some 
 straw. At this moment, General Phillips 
 came up to me, and I asked him why we 
 had not continued our retreat, as my hus 
 band had promised to cover it, and bring 
 the arm}- through. Poor, dear woman, 
 said he, I wonder how, drenched as you 
 are, you have the courage still to perse 
 vere and venture farther in this kind of 
 weather. I wish, continued he, you were 
 
 Oct. 9, 
 
564 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 Oct. 9. 
 
 our commanding general : General Bur 
 goyne is tired, and means to halt here to 
 night and give us our supper. " 
 
 On the morning after Burgoyne s re 
 treat, the whole of Gates s army, with the 
 exception of the camp -guards, 
 moved forward and took posses 
 sion of the enemy s abandoned intrench- 
 ments. The British commander was still 
 in the position, on the heights, which he 
 had taken on the night of the battle. Du 
 ring the day while he remained, previous 
 to beginning his retreat, a desultory fire 
 was kept up between the pickets of the 
 opposing camps ; and General Lincoln, 
 while reconnoitring, had his leg broken 
 by a shot from the enemy. Burgoyne, 
 as we have seen, was allowed to begin his 
 retreat on the night of the 8th of Octo 
 ber, without interruption ; for Gates pru 
 dently avoided an engagement, and de 
 termined so to surround his enemy as to 
 force him to a, surrender. He according 
 ly, when Burgoyne was retreating, sent 
 off General Fellows, with a detachment 
 of fourteen hundred militia, to cross the 
 Hudson, and post themselves on the high 
 ground, on the eastern bank of the river, 
 opposite to Saratoga, and at a ford where 
 the British would desire to cross. Other 
 troops were also detached to Fishkill ; 
 while Fort Edward, on the Hudson, and 
 Fort George, on Lake George, to the 
 north of Saratoga, were already held by 
 Colonel Cochrane, in command of a force 
 which was daily gathering strength from 
 the flocking in of the militia of the whole 
 country round. 
 
 General Gates, with his main body, re 
 mained quietly for two days in the camp 
 
 Oct. 9, 
 
 abandoned by Burgoyne. "The weath 
 er," says Wilkinson, "was unfavorable, the 
 commissariat dilatory, and the men seem 
 ed to prefer repose to action." The delay 
 fretted the young deputy adjutant-gener- 
 al, but Gates was unmoved, and was calm 
 ly and discreetly abiding his time. 
 
 An incident now occurred which brings 
 again to our notice one of the gentle wo 
 men of whom we have already 
 had so much to say, to whose 
 constant heroism of woman s love during 
 these trying times w r e all eagerly turn, 
 from the hot bravery flushing up in the 
 angry paroxysms of the battle-struggle. 
 
 Lady Harriet Ackland, when she heard 
 that her husband (Major Ackland, of the 
 grenadiers) was wounded and a prison 
 er, was determined to go to him, as she 
 had done when he was a sufferer before, 
 and by her sympathy and her tender care 
 soothe him whom she loved so deeply. 
 When she sent to Burgoyne, asking per 
 mission to proceed to the American camp, 
 he was greatly surprised. " Though I was 
 ready to believe." he says, " that patience 
 and fortitude, in a supreme degree, were 
 to be found, as well as every other virtue, 
 under the most tender forms, I was as 
 tonished at this proposal. After so long 
 an agitation of spirits, exhausted not only 
 for want of rest, but absolutely want of 
 food, drenched in rains for twelve hours 
 together that a woman should be ca 
 pable of such an undertaking as deliver 
 ing herself to an enemy, probably in the 
 niuiit, and uncertain of what hands she 
 
 o 
 
 might fall into, appeared an effort above 
 human nature. The assistance I was en 
 abled to give was small indeed ; 1 had not 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. J 
 
 LADY HARRIET ACKLAND. 
 
 565 
 
 even a cup of wine to offer her : but I 
 was told she had found, from some kind 
 and fortunate hand, a little rum and dirty 
 water. All I could furnish to her w r as an 
 open boat, and a few lines (written upon 
 dirty, wet paper) to General Gates, rec 
 ommending her to his protection." 
 
 On the " dirty, wet paper" the British 
 cominander-in-chief wrote as follows, in a 
 rapid scrawl : 
 
 " SIR : Lady Harriet Ackland, a lady of 
 the first distinction by family, rank, and 
 by personal virtues, is under such concern 
 on account of Major Ackland her husband, 
 wounded and a prisoner in your hands, 
 that I can not refuse her request to com 
 mit her to your protection. 
 
 " Whatever general impropriety there 
 may be in persons acting in your situa 
 tion and mine to solicit favors, I can not 
 see the uncommon perseverance in every 
 female grace and exaltation of character 
 of this lady, and her very hard fortune, 
 without testifying that your attentions to 
 
 t/ O / 
 
 her will lay me under obligation. 
 " I am, sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 "J. BURGOYNE. 
 
 " October 9, 1777. 
 
 " MAJOK-GENICUAL GATKS." 
 
 Lady Ackland, thus provided, set out 
 in the midst of a storm of rain, on her 
 trying journey, in an open boat upon the 
 Hudson. Mr. Brudenell, the chaplain, had 
 offered to accompany her ; and he, to 
 gether with a waiting-maid, and her hus 
 band s body-servant (who had still a ball 
 in his shoulder, which he had received 
 while searching for his master on the bat 
 tle-field), were her only companions. It 
 
 was at dusk in the evening when she be 
 gan her journey, and it was late at night 
 when she reached the American outposts. 
 A sentinel, hearing the oars of the boat, 
 challenged it, when Mr. Brudenell, the 
 chaplain, called out that he bore a flag of 
 truce from General Burgoyne. The sol 
 dier, fearful of treachery, and threatening 
 to shoot them should they land, kept 
 them off until he had sent word to Major 
 Henry Dearborn, who commanded the 
 American advanced guard. 
 
 The major, upon learning that there 
 was a lady in the boat, immediately pre 
 pared to receive her. His guard occupied 
 a log-cabin, in which there was a back 
 apartment appropriated to his own use. 
 This he had cleared for her reception, and 
 orders were given that the party should 
 be allowed to land. Upon reaching the 
 cabin, Lady Ackland was assured of her 
 husband s safety ; and a fire having been 
 lighted, and a cup of tea made, she was 
 enabled to pass the night with tolerable 
 comfort. Early the next morn 
 ing, the party again embarked, 
 and sailed down the river to the Ameri 
 can camp, " where General Gates, whose 
 gallantry will not be denied," says Wil 
 kinson, " stood ready to receive her with 
 all the tenderness and respect to which 
 her rank and condition gave her a claim. 
 Indeed, the feminine figure, the benign as 
 pect, and polished manners, of this charm 
 ing woman, were alone sufficient to attract 
 the sympathy of the most obdurate ; but 
 if another motive could have been want 
 ing to inspire respect, it was furnished by 
 the peculiar circumstances of Lady Har 
 riet, then in that most delicate situation, 
 
 Oct. 10, 
 
506 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 which can not fail to interest the solici 
 tudes of every being possessing the form 
 and feelings of a man." 
 
 Her wounded husband, Major Ackland, 
 had already been conveyed to Albany, 
 where Lady Harriet proceeded immedi 
 ately to join him, and had the happiness 
 of finding that his wound was not mortal, 
 and that he was rapidly recovering from 
 its effects.* 
 
 General Burgoyne did riot remain long 
 at Saratoga, but, having refreshed his ar 
 my after its painful inarch with a few 
 hours of such repose as his troops could 
 obtain by throwing themselves on the wet 
 ground during the pelting rain, he began 
 to continue his retreat to the northward 
 
 before break of day. A detach- 
 Oct, 10, ... . J 
 
 ment 01 Americans had reached 
 
 the ground, on the bank of the Fishkill, 
 
 * The subsequent history of Lady Harriet and Major Ack 
 land was thus first told by Wilkinson, and has been adopted 
 by most other writers: " Ackland, after his return to Eng 
 land, procured a regiment ; and at a dinner of military men, 
 where the courage of Americans was made a question, took 
 the negative side with his usual decision ; he was opposed, 
 warmth ensued, and lie gave the lie direct to a Lieutenant 
 Lloyd, fought him, and was shot through the head. Lady 
 Harriet lost her senses, and continued deranged two years ; 
 after which, I have been informed," continues Wilkinson, 
 "she married Mr. Brudenell, who accompanied her from 
 General Burgoyne s camp, when she sought her wounded 
 husband on the Hudson s river." This story, however, is 
 now contradicted ; and it is declared, apparently on good 
 authority, that Major Ackland did not tight a duel, and was 
 not killed ; that Lady Harriet did not become insane, and 
 did not marry the chaplain, Mr. Brudenell. "Major John 
 Dyke Ackland," says Lossing, in his Life of Washington, 
 " was the eldest son of Sir Thomas Dyke Ackland. He died 
 from the effects of his wounds received at Saratoga, Novem 
 ber, 1778. His wife, the Right Honorable Lady Harriet 
 Ackland, was sister of the earl of Ilchester, and mother of 
 the late countess of Carnarvon. Lady Ackland survived 
 her husband many years, arid, contrary to the generally- 
 received opinion, appears to have remained his widow until 
 her death, on the 21st. of July, 1815. ... Lady Ackland and 
 the eminent Charles James Fox were cousins." (See Amer 
 ican Historical Maijaziue, New York, vol. ii., p. 121.) 
 
 before the British commander; and, al 
 though on his advance, they had retreat 
 ed to the opposite side of the river, where 
 General Fellows was posted on the heights 
 with his fifteen hundred men, they had 
 taken care to break down the bridges. 
 Burgoyne was thus delayed in getting 
 his baggage and artillery over the Fisl 
 kill, which small stream, running into th 
 Hudson from west to east, stretched di 
 rectly across his route. After destroying 
 the buildings on the south bank, among 
 which were the house and mills belonirinur 
 
 O O 
 
 to General Schuyler, the British crossed 
 over and posted themselves on the heights 
 north of the Fishkill, where they at once 
 began to intrench their camp. 
 
 General Gates, in the meantime, drew 
 near in pursuit; although, in consequence 
 of the heavy rains, and some delay in wait 
 ing for supplies, he did not march before 
 the afternoon of the 10th of October. By 
 four o clock, however, he reached Sarato 
 ga, and took his position on the wooded 
 heights, about a mile south of the Fish- 
 kill, separated from Burgoyne s camp by 
 this small stream. The general s own quar 
 ters were humble enough, being in a small 
 hovel about ten feet square, situated at 
 the foot of a hill, out of which it had been 
 partially scooped. The floor was simply 
 the ground, and Gates s pallet was spread 
 upon rude boards, supported by four fork 
 ed pieces of timber, with cross-pieces, iu 
 one corner; while Wilkinson, with his 
 saddle for a pillow, lay upon the straw in 
 another. Finding the enemy still busy 
 in moving their stores, Gates ordered out 
 tw r o light fieldpieces, to disperse a fatigue 
 party engaged in unloading the batteaux 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE BARONESS REIDESEL IN A CELLAR. 
 
 567 
 
 which had followed Burgoyne up the 
 Hudson. The object was attained ; but 
 Major Stevens, who was serving the field- 
 pieces, was soon obliged to withdraw, by 
 a severe cannonade from the whole park 
 of the enemy s artillery. 
 
 To the baroness Reidesel s narrative we 
 must again recur for a true impression of 
 passing events in the British camp. " The 
 greatest misery," she says, " at this time 
 prevailed in the army, and more than 
 thirty officers came to me, for whom tea 
 and coffee was prepared, and with whom 
 I shared all my provisions, with which my 
 calash was in general well supplied ; for I 
 had a cook who was an excellent caterer, 
 and who often in the night crossed small 
 rivers and foraged on the inhabitants, 
 bringing in with him sheep, small pigs, 
 and poultry, for which he very often for 
 got to pay, though he received good pay 
 from me, as long as I had any, and was 
 ultimately handsomely rewarded. Our 
 provisions now failed us for want of prop 
 er conduct in the commissary s depart 
 ment, and I began to despair. 
 
 " About two o clock in the af 
 ternoon, we again heard a firing 
 of cannon and small-arms. Instantly all 
 was alarm, and everything in motion. 
 My husband told me to go to a house not 
 far off. I immediately seated myself in 
 my calash with my children, and drove 
 off; but scarcely had we reached it, be 
 fore I discovered five or six armed men 
 on the other side of the Hudson. Instinct 
 ively 1 threw my children down in the 
 calash, and then concealed myself with 
 them. At that moment the fellows fired, 
 and wounded an already wounded Eng- 
 
 Oct. 11. 
 
 lish soldier, who was behind me. Poor 
 fellow ! I pitied him exceedingly, but at 
 that moment had no means or power to 
 relieve him. 
 
 " A terrible cannonade was commenced 
 by the enemy, which was directed against 
 the house in which I sought to obtain 
 shelter for myself and children, under the 
 mistaken idea that all the generals were 
 in it. Alas ! it contained none but wound 
 ed and women. We were at last obliged 
 to resort to the cellar for refuge ; and in 
 one corner of this I remained the whole 
 day. my children sleeping on the earth 
 with their heads in my lap, and in the 
 same situation I passed a sleepless night. 
 Eleven cannon-balls passed through the 
 house, n,nd we could distinctly hear them 
 roll away. One poor soldier, who was ly 
 ing on a table, for the purpose of having 
 his leg arnputated,t was struck by a shot 
 which carried away his other. His com 
 rades had left him, and when we went to 
 his assistance we found him in a corner 
 of the room, into which he had crept more 
 dead than alive, scarcely breathing. My 
 reflections on the danger to which my 
 husband was exposed now agonized me 
 exceedingly ; and the thoughts of my 
 children, and the necessity of struggling 
 for their preservation, alon^ sustained me. 
 
 " The ladies of the army who were with 
 me were, Mrs. Hamage, a Mrs. Kennels, 
 the widow of a lieutentant who was killed, 
 and the wife of the commissary. Major 
 Hamage, his wife, and Mrs. Kennels, made 
 a little room in a corner, with curtains to 
 it, and wished to do the same for me ; but 
 I preferred being near the door, in case 
 of fire. Not far off my maid slept, and 
 
568 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 opposite to us three English officers, who, 
 though wounded., were determined not to 
 be left behind ; one of them was Captain 
 Greene, an aid-de-camp to Major Phillips, 
 a very valuable officer and most agreea 
 ble man. They each made me a most 
 sacred promise not to leave me behind ; 
 and, in case of a sudden retreat, that they 
 would each of them take one of my chil 
 dren on his horse : and, for myself, one 
 of my husband s was in constant readi 
 ness. 
 
 " Our cook, I have before mentioned, 
 procured us our meals, but we were in 
 want of water ; and I was often obliged 
 to drink wine, and to give it to my chil 
 dren. It was the only thing my husband 
 took which made our faithful hunter 
 (Rockel) express one day his apprehen 
 sions that the general was weary of his 
 life, or fearful of being taken, as he drank 
 so much wine. The constant danger which 
 my husband was in, kept me in a state of 
 wretchedness ; and I asked myself if it 
 was possible I should be the only happy 
 one, and have my husband spared to me 
 
 / 
 
 unhurt, exposed as he was to so many 
 perils. He never entered his tent, but 
 lay down whole nights by the watch-fires. 
 This alone was enough to have killed 
 him, the cold was so intense. 
 
 "The want of water distressed us much. 
 At length vse found a soldier s wife, who 
 had courage enough to fetch us some from 
 the river, an office nobody else would un 
 dertake, as the Americans shot at every 
 person who approached it ; but, out of re 
 spect for her sex, they never molested 
 her. 
 
 "I now occupied myself through the 
 day in attending the wounded. I made 
 them tea and coffee, and often shared my 
 dinner with them, for which they offered 
 me a thousand expressions of gratitude. 
 One day, a Canadian officer came to our 
 cellar, who had scarcely the power of 
 holding himself upright, and we con 
 cluded he was dying for want of nourish 
 ment. I was happy in offering him my 
 dinner, which strengthened him, and pro 
 cured me his friendship. I now under 
 took the care of Major Bloomfielcl, anoth 
 er aid-de-camp of General Phillips. He 
 had received a musket-ball through both 
 cheeks, which in its course had knocked 
 out several of his teeth and cat his tongue. 
 He could hold nothing in his mouth ; the 
 matter which ran from his mouth almost 
 choked him, and he was not able to take 
 any nourishment except a little soup or 
 something liquid. We had some Rhenish 
 wine, and, in the hope that the acidity of 
 it would cleanse his wound, I gave him 
 a bottle of it; he took a little now and 
 then, and with such effect, that his cure 
 soon followed. Thus I added another to 
 my stock of friends, and derived a satis 
 faction which, in the midst of sufferings, 
 served to tranquillize me, and diminish 
 their acuteness. 
 
 " One day, General Phillips accompa 
 nied my husband, at the risk of their lives, 
 on a visit to us, who, after having wit 
 nessed our situation, said to him : I would 
 not for ten thousand guineas come again 
 to this place ; my heart is almost broken ! 
 In this horrid situation we remained six 
 days." 
 
UEVOLUTIONAHY.] 
 
 BURGOYNE S DESPERATE SITUATION. 
 
 K39 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 Desperate Situation of General Burgoyne. Desperate Expedients. A Masked Movement. The Americans tricked 
 A Skirmish with the Pickets. The British surrounded. Despair of Burgoyne. Proposals to negotiate. The Terms 
 settled. Surrenderof Burgoyne. Convention not Capitulation. News from Sir Henry Clinton. Too late. Fresh 
 Beef. The Baroness Reidesel refreshed. The Convention signed. Meeting of Burgoyne and Gates. Splendor and 
 Simplicity. The Formalities of the Surrender. The British Commander pleads Illness. The " Stars and Stripes" 
 for the First Time. The Adventures of the Baroness continued. Courtesy of General Sehuyrer. French Gallantry. 
 Kindness of Schuyler. The Numbers surrendered. The News of Victory reaches Congress. Gates moves toward 
 the Hudson. Retreat of General Vaughan. The Result of the Surrender at Saratoga. Its Effect in France, Eng 
 land, and throughout Europe. The Earl of Chatham. " You can not conquer America!" 
 
 1777, 
 
 GENERAL BURGOYNE was now in a 
 desperate position, with a powerful 
 body of Americans under General Fellows 
 extending beyond his left flank, on the 
 eastern bank of the Hudson ; with the 
 country before him, toward the north, 
 filled with provincials, who held Fort Ed 
 ward, and swarmed in every mountain- 
 pass and forest-path which led to Fort 
 George, and even to the borders of Lake 
 Cliamplain ; and with a triumphant ene 
 my behind him. His situation was des 
 perate, and his plans for extrication equal 
 ly so. He proposed to ascend the Hud 
 son, along the western bank, where he 
 was now posted, to Fort George, at the 
 southern end of the lake of that name. 
 A rugged country, with mountains, mo 
 rasses, ravines, and deep streams, was be 
 fore him. Roads were to be made and 
 bridges built by an army half famished 
 and threatened on all sides by a numer 
 ous and triumphant enemy. Great as 
 were the obstacles, the British general 
 made the attempt to overcome them. He 
 sent out working-parties to open roads 
 and construct bridges ; but the American 
 
 riflemen were everywhere on the alert, 
 and from each rocky defile and forest- 
 covert came the fetal bullets : and, after 
 one day s trial, Burgoyne s artificers were 
 forced to retire to the cover of the camp, 
 and give up all hope of the route to Fort 
 George by the western bank of the Hud 
 son. 
 
 Burgoyne now hit upon the desperate 
 expedient of marching his army a short 
 distance along the Hudson, and forcino- 
 
 C> O 
 
 his passage across that river in the very 
 face of the large body of Americans on 
 the eastern bank. Making up his rnind 
 to abandon the artillery, and giving each 
 man his share of the few days provisions 
 which were all that were left to carry in 
 his knapsack on his back, he hoped that 
 his troops, by dint of personal daring and 
 physical endurance, might succeed in 
 working their way to Fort Edward and 
 the lakes, and thence by a circuitous 
 route find safety in Canada. With this 
 object in view, Burgoyne sent a 
 detachment up the river in ad 
 vance, intending to follow with the whole 
 of his army in the course of the night. 
 
 Oct. 10, 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 PART IJ 
 
 Oct. 11. 
 
 This movement almost proved fatal to 
 Gates. 
 
 Intelligence was brought late at niu;lit 
 
 O o o 
 
 into the American camp that the main 
 body of the British had abandoned their 
 intrenchments on the north side of the 
 Fishkill, and were marching to Fort Ed 
 ward. Gates accordingly ordered Mor 
 gan, with his rifle-corps, and Nixon and 
 Glover, with their brigades, to cross the 
 Fishkill at break of day, and attack the 
 enemy s encampment, supposed to be de 
 fended merely by a rear-guard. 
 The morning, as is common at 
 that season of the year, opened with a 
 dense fog ; but the alert Morgan had at 
 the earliest hour groped his way across 
 the stream, and was soon engaged with 
 an advanced picket of the British on their 
 right. The firing brought the brigades 
 of Patterson and Learned to his support. 
 Nixon, too, had crossed the Fishkill, to 
 move against the centre of the enemy s 
 camp ; Glover was about doing the same ; 
 and General Gates had moved his whole 
 army forward, prepared to follow, when 
 a British soldier came wading; through 
 
 o O 
 
 the water. He proved to be a deserter, 
 and brought intelligence that Burgoyne 
 was still in camp, with the main body of 
 his troops. Glover immediately checked 
 the march of his brigade, and strove to 
 call back Nixon from the other side of 
 the stream. 
 
 At this moment the fog suddenly lifted 
 and rolled away, and the day became 
 clear, revealing the whole British army, 
 drawn up in formidable array before their 
 camp on the heights. Fifteen hundred 
 Americans, under Nixon, had crossed the 
 
 river, and were now brought face to face 
 with the full force of the enemy, who im 
 mediately began a heavy fire of artillery 
 and musketry, which soon drove him back, 
 and sent him with his scattered brigade 
 across to the American encampment, 
 
 Morgan and his riflemen, after their 
 engagement with the advanced picket 
 of the enemy, had warily moved, under 
 cover of the fog, around Burgoyne s right, 
 and taken their position on some heights 
 in its rear, which they firmly held. The 
 brigades of Patterson and Learned, which 
 had gone to the support of Morgan, also 
 succeeded, after a slight skirmish with an 
 advanced party of the British, in gaining 
 a strong position under the cover of a 
 wood, and maintaining it, though on the 
 same side of the Fishkill with Burgoyne s 
 encampment. 
 
 The two armies, thus drawn close to 
 each other, kept up an incessant cannon 
 ade ; but the British commander, finding 
 himself completely hemmed in, and all 
 resources of escape cut off but the chance 
 of relief from Sir Henry Clinton (of which, 
 after lingering so long in anxious expec 
 tation, he now at last abandoned all hope), 
 was in despair of saving his army. 
 
 " A series of hard toil," wrote Burgoyne 
 himself; "incessant effort, and stubborn ac 
 tion, until disabled in the collateral branch 
 es of the army by the total defection of 
 the Indians ; the desertion or the timidity 
 of the Canadians and provincials,some indi 
 viduals excepted ; disappointed in the last 
 hope of any co-operation from other ar 
 mies; the regular troops reduced by losses 
 from the best parts to thirty-five hundred 
 fighting men, not two thousand of which 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. J 
 
 SURRENDER OF GENERAL BURGOYNE. 
 
 571 
 
 Oct. !3, 
 
 were British ; only three days provisions, 
 upon short allowance, in store ; invested 
 by an army of sixteen thousand men, and 
 no appearance of retreat remaining, I 
 called into council all the generals, field- 
 officers, and captains commanding corps, 
 and by their unanimous concurrence and 
 advice I was induced to open a treaty 
 with Major-General Gates." While the 
 council was in session, an eighteen-pound 
 ball passed over the table, as there was 
 not a spot of ground in the whole British 
 camp which was not exposed to the fire 
 of the Americans. 
 
 It having been determined to 
 
 open a treaty, Burgoyne imme 
 diately wrote a note to General Gates, 
 saying that he was desirous of sending a 
 field-officer "upon a matter of high mo 
 ment to both armies/ and requesting to 
 be informed at what time General Gates 
 would receive him the next morning. A 
 note in reply was promptly sent, in which 
 Gates appointed ten o clock as the hour. 
 Accordingly, next morning, at 
 
 the hour appointed, Major Kings 
 ton presented himself at the American 
 advanced post, and, being blindfolded, was 
 led to headquarters, where he delivered 
 the following message from the British to 
 the American commander: "After hav 
 ing fought you twice, Licutenant-General 
 Burgoyne lias waited some days in his 
 present position, determined to try a third 
 conflict against any force you could bring 
 against him. He is apprized of the supe 
 riority of your numbers, and the disposi- 
 
 / V 
 
 tion of your troops to impede his sup 
 plies, and render his retreat a scene of | 
 carnaire on both sides. In this situation | 
 
 Oct. 14, 
 
 he is impelled by humanity, and thinks 
 himself justified by established principles 
 and precedents of state and war, to spare 
 the lives of brave men upon honorable 
 terms. Should Major-General Gates be 
 inclined to treat upon that idea, General 
 Burgoyne would propose a cessation of 
 arms during the time necessary to com 
 municate the preliminary terms by which, 
 in any extremity, he and his army mean 
 to abide." 
 
 Gates was prepared with his answer in 
 advance ; and, as soon as Major Kingston 
 had done, the general put his hand into 
 his side-pocket, and, pulling out a paper, 
 said, " There, sir, are the terms on which 
 General Burgoyne must surrender."* The 
 major was somewhat taken by surprise 
 at the promptness of the reply, but read 
 the paper, while Gates surveyed him cu 
 riously through his spectacles. Kingston 
 was not pleased with the terms, which 
 proposed, " as Burgoyne s retreat was cut 
 off," an unconditional surrender of his 
 troops as prisoners-of-war ; and he at first 
 objected to convey them to the British 
 commander, but was finally prevailed up 
 on. Kingston soon came back with a nea:- 
 
 o o 
 
 ative answer, and word from his general 
 that he would never admit that his re 
 treat was cut off while his troops had arms 
 in their hands. Hostilities in the mean 
 time ceased; and other proposals were 
 then made, and passed backward and for 
 ward, when finally, after a two or three 
 days delay, the following terms were 
 agreed upon : 
 
 General Burgoyne s troops were to 
 march out of their camp with all the hon- 
 
 * Wilkinson. 
 
572 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 Oct. 15. 
 
 ors of war; and the artillery to be moved 
 to the banks of the Hudson river, and 
 there left, together with the soldiers arms, 
 which were to be piled at the word of 
 command from their own officers. It was 
 agreed that a free passage to Great Britain 
 should be granted to the troops, on condi 
 tion of their not serving again in the pres 
 ent contest ; that all officers should retain 
 their ba^nge and side-arms, and not be 
 
 GOO 7 
 
 separated from their men ; and that all, 
 of whatever country they might be, fol 
 lowing the camp, should be included in 
 the terms of capitulation. 
 
 The conditions of the surren 
 der being settled, the two gener 
 als were preparing to sign and carry out 
 the terms of the treaty, and about to ex 
 change signatures, when Burgoyne sent 
 word to Gates that it had been unguard 
 edly called a treaty of capitulation, while 
 his army only meant it as a treaty of con 
 vention. Gates, without hesitation, admit 
 ted the alteration ; and the next day (the 
 IGth) he was expecting to receive from 
 the British commander a copy of the con 
 vention, properly signed, when instead a 
 note arrived, in which Burgoyne, having 
 heard of the departure of some of the 
 American militia (who, with their usual in 
 dependence, had gone off without leave), 
 declared he had " received intelligence 
 that a considerable force had been de 
 tached from the army under the command 
 of Major-General Gates" during the ne 
 gotiation, and in violation of the cessation 
 of arms agreed upon. This gave rise to 
 another delay; and, in the meanwhile, 
 word was at last received at the British 
 headquarters from Sir Henry Clinton. 
 
 Burgoyne immediately called a coun 
 cil of war, and submitted to it the ques 
 tion " whether it was consistent with pub 
 lic faith, and if so, expedient, to suspend 
 the execution of the treaty, and trust to 
 events." At this anxious moment there 
 were those in the British camp who, hav 
 ing, during the cessation of hostilities, mo 
 mentarily enjoyed the blessings of repose 
 and security, were in fearful alarm lest 
 they should soon be again awakened to 
 the horrors of the battle-field. 
 
 " One day," says the baroness Reidesel, 
 " a message was sent to my husband, who 
 had visited me and was reposing in my 
 bed, to attend a council of war, where it 
 was proposed to break the convention ; 
 but, to my great joy, the majority was for 
 adhering to it. On the IGth, however, 
 my husband had to repair to his post, and 
 I to my cellar. This day fresh beef was 
 served out to the officers, who until now 
 had only salt provision, which was very 
 bad for their wounds. The good woman 
 who brought us water, made us an excel 
 lent soup of the meat, but I had lost my 
 appetite, and took nothing but crusts of 
 bread dipped in wine. The wounded offi 
 cers (my unfortunate companions) cut oil 
 the best bit and presented it to me on a. 
 plate. I declined eating anything; but 
 they contended that it was necessary for 
 me to take nourishment, and declared 
 they would not touch a morsel until I 
 afforded them the pleasure of seeing me 
 partake. I could no longer withstand 
 their pressing invitations, accompanied as 
 they were by assurances of the happiness 
 they had in offering me the first good 
 thing they had in their power ; and 1 par- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] INTERVIEW BETWEEN BURGOYNE AND GATES. 
 
 573 
 
 took of a repast rendered palatable by 
 the kindness and- good will of my fellow- 
 sufferers, forgetting for the moment the 
 misery of our apartment and the absence 
 of almost every comfort." 
 
 The British commander-in-chief. though 
 
 7 O 
 
 himself inclined to believe that he might 
 honorably withdraw from the convention, 
 yielded to the majority of his officers, and 
 signed it on the 17th of October. This 
 was a happy moment for the baroness 
 Reidesel. " General Burgoyne and the 
 other generals," she says, " waited on the 
 American general ; the troops laid down 
 their arms, and gave themselves up pris- 
 oners-of-war. And now the good woman 
 who had supplied us with water, at the 
 hazard of her life, received the reward of 
 her services. Each of us threw a hand 
 ful of money into her apron, and she got 
 altogether about twenty guineas. At 
 such a moment as this, how susceptible 
 is the heart of feelings of gratitude !" 
 
 The deputy adjutant-general, Wilkin 
 son, was the master of ceremonies chosen 
 to conduct the formalities of the surren 
 der. He accordingly visited General Bur 
 goyne in his camp, and returned 
 with him to present him to Gen 
 eral Gates. The British commander came 
 dressed in a rich royal uniform, and sur 
 rounded by a brilliant staff of officers, all 
 mounted on horseback. On reaching the 
 American head quarters, General Gates, in 
 " a plain blue frock," was on the ground, 
 ready to receive his visiters, who, having 
 approached within about a sword s length 
 of him, reined up their horses. At this 
 moment, General Burgoyne, raising his 
 hat most gracefully, said, The fortune of 
 
 Get, 17, 
 
 war, General Gates, has made me your 
 prisoner ; to which the conqueror, return 
 ing a courtly salute, replied, I shall al 
 ways be ready to bear testimony that it 
 has not been through any fault of your 
 excellency. " 
 
 General Gates acted with great courte 
 sy throughout, during these occurrences, 
 so trying to the sensibilities of the brave 
 soldier. Wilkinson was the only Ameri 
 can who was allowed to witness the sur 
 render of the British army. The spot 
 having been first selected by him, Gener 
 al Burgoyne s troops were drawn up on 
 the level ground in front of Fort Hardy, 
 on the north bank of the Fishkill, where 
 that stream joins with the Hudson. Here 
 the soldiers emptied their cartridge-boxes 
 and grounded their arms at the word of 
 command from their own officers. The 
 place was within sight of the American 
 encampment; but Gates, with a courteous 
 regard for the feelings of his gallant ene 
 my, took care to order every man to keep 
 within the lines, that there should be no 
 exulting witness of the humiliation of the 
 British troops. 
 
 In the afternoon, the American army 
 was drawn up in two lines, bordering the 
 road which led to their encampment to 
 the extent of a mile. The British troops 
 now crossed the river, and, escorted by a 
 company of light dragoons, were inarched 
 between the American soldiers, preceded 
 by two American officers, unfurling for 
 the first time the "stars and stripes;"* 
 
 * In June, 1777, Congress first resolved that "the stars 
 and stripes" should Ixi used, but not unfurled until Septem 
 her. Previously the flag was the union one, with the com 
 bined crosses of St. George and St. Andrew, and thirteen 
 stripes, alternately red and white. 
 
574 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 while the bands struck up the lively tune 
 of " Yankee Doodle" Burgoyne, attended 
 by his staff, was with Gates, in front of 
 his marquee ; and, at the moment when 
 his troops were filing between the Ameri 
 can lines,he stepped back, drew his sword, 
 and presented it to his victorious oppo 
 nent. Gates received the sword with a 
 courteous acknowledgment, and immedi 
 ately returned it, when the two generals 
 retired within the tent. 
 
 The foreign soldiers, especially those 
 of Germany, who had been drilled in all 
 the stiff formalities of Prussian military 
 regulation, were struck with the undress 
 appearance of the American troops ; they 
 observed that none of them were uniform 
 ly clad, but that each had on the clothes 
 he had worn in " the fields, the church, or 
 the tavern." They could not, however, 
 withhold their admiration of the natural 
 good looks of " such a handsome, well- 
 formed race," and were surprised at their 
 conduct. "The men all stood so still, 
 that we were filled with wonder. Not 
 one of them made a single motion as if 
 he would speak with his neighbor," was 
 the testimony of one of the Brunswick- 
 ers.* The officers, in their motley dres 
 ses some in brown turned up with sea- 
 green, some in buff-and-blue,somein home 
 ly gniy,but most in old-fashioned unkempt 
 wigs and every-day dress, with only a 
 white belt to distinguish their rank in 
 the army were the objects of great won 
 der and hardly-suppressed merriment to 
 the German military martinets/}* 
 
 Let us again trace the fortunes of that 
 gentle and noblest of camp-followers, the 
 
 Quoted by Irving. 
 
 tlb. 
 
 baroness Reidesel: " My husband s groom," 
 she says, " brought me a message to join 
 him with my children. I seated myself 
 once more in my dear calash, and then 
 rode through the American camp. As I 
 passed on, I observed (and this was a great 
 consolation to me) that no one eyed me 
 with looks of resentment, but that they 
 all greeted us, and even showed compas 
 sion in their countenances at the sight of 
 a mother with her children. I was. I con 
 fess, afraid to go over to the enemy, as it 
 was something quite new to me. When 
 I drew near the tents, a handsome man 
 approached and met me, took my children 
 from the calash, and hugged and kissed 
 them, which affected me almost to tears. 
 You tremble, said he, as he offered me 
 his arm ; < be not afraid. No, I replied, 
 you seem so kind and tender to my chil 
 dren, it gives me courage. He then con 
 ducted me to the tent of General Gates, 
 where I found Generals Burgoyne and 
 Phillips on the most friendly footing with 
 him. General Burgoyne said to me, i Nev 
 er mind now, your sorrows are all over. 
 I replied that I should be much to blame 
 to have anxieties when he had none, and 
 was on such friendly terms with General 
 Gates. 
 
 "All the generals remained to dine 
 with General Gates. The same gentle 
 man who had received me so kindly now 
 came and said to me : You may feel em 
 barrassed in dining with all these gentle 
 men; come with your children to my tent, 
 where you will find a frugal meal offered 
 with the best will. I replied, You must 
 certainly be a husband and a father, you 
 show me so much kindness. He now 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE BARONESS REIDESEL AND GENERAL SCHUYLER. 575 
 
 told me that he was General Schuyler. 
 He regaled me with excellent smoked 
 tongue, beefsteaks, potatoes, and good 
 bread and butter. I could riot have de 
 sired a better dinner. I was happy and 
 contented, and saw that those about me 
 were so likewise ; and, what was best of 
 all, my husband was out of danger. 
 
 "After dinner, General Schuyler told 
 me that his residence was at Albany, that 
 General Burgoyne had promised to be 
 come his guest, and invited myself and 
 children also. I consulted my husband, 
 and he advised me to accept the invita 
 tion. General Schuyler politely sent me 
 back under the escort of a French gen 
 tleman, who, after leaving me at the house 
 where I was to remain, went back. 
 
 "In the house I found a French sur 
 geon, who had under his care a Bruns 
 wick officer, who was mortally wounded, 
 and died a few days afterward. The 
 Frenchman boasted a good deal of his 
 treatment of his patient, and possibly was 
 skilful enough as a surgeon, but otherwise 
 a great fool. He seemed delighted when 
 he discovered I could speak his language. 
 He began to address many empty and 
 impertinent speeches to me. Among oth 
 er things, he said he could not believe I 
 was a general s wife, as he was certain a 
 woman of such rank would not follow her 
 husband. He expressed the wish that I 
 would remain with him, as he said it was 
 better to be with the conquerors than the 
 conquered. I was shocked at his impu 
 dence, but dared not show the contempt 
 and detestation I felt for him, because it 
 would deprive me of a place of safety. 
 Toward evening he begged me to take 
 
 part of his chamber. I told him that I 
 was determined to remain in the room 
 with the wounded officers, when he at 
 tempted to pay me some stupid compli 
 ment. At this moment the door opened, 
 and my husband with his aid-de-camp en 
 tered. I then said, l Here, sir, is my hus 
 band ! and at the snme moment looked at 
 him with scorn, w r hen he retired abashed. 
 He was, however, polite enough to offer 
 us his chamber. 
 
 "Soon after, we arrived at Albany 
 where \ve had so often wished ourselves 
 but we did not enter it as we expected 
 we should, victors. We were received by 
 the good General Schuyler, his wife, and 
 daughters, not as enemies but kind friends, 
 and they treated us with the most marked 
 attention and politeness, as they did Gen 
 eral Burgoyne, who had caused General 
 Schuyler s handsome house to be burned. 
 In fact, they behaved like persons of ex 
 alted minds, who were determined to bury 
 all recollection of their own injuries in 
 the contemplation of our misfortunes. 
 
 " General Burgoyne was struck with 
 General Schuyler s generosity, and said 
 to him 
 
 " ( You show me great kindness, al 
 though I have done you much injury. 
 
 " That was the fate of war, replied the 
 brave man. Let us say no more about 
 it. " 
 
 Burgoyne was not unmindful of Schuy 
 ler s generous hospitality and chivalrous 
 courtesy, and took occasion on his return 
 to England, where he resumed his place 
 in the Parliament, to acknowledge, in the 
 presence of the assembled British senate, 
 his sense of gratitude. 
 
576 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 The whole British force which surren 
 dered at Saratoga amounted to five thou 
 sand seven hundred and ninety-one men, 
 of whom two thousand four hundred and 
 twelve were Germans. A train of brass 
 artillery, consisting of forty-two cannon, 
 howitzers, and mortars, and four thousand 
 six hundred and forty-seven muskets, to 
 gether with a large supply of ammunition, 
 fell into the possession of the Americans. 
 Among the British officers who had sur 
 rendered were some of the most distin 
 guished Englishmen. There were six 
 among them who were members of Par 
 liament. The prisoners were subsequent 
 ly removed to Boston, where they re 
 mained under the especial guard of Gen 
 eral Heath and the garrison under his 
 command. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Gates hastened to 
 Albany, in order to encounter the British 
 troops advancing up the Hudson under 
 the command of General Vaughan. But 
 when Sir Henry Clinton heard of Bur- 
 goyne s surrender, he immediately re 
 called Vaughan (who had reached within 
 only four hours sail of Albany), and with 
 drew all his force from the river to New 
 York. 
 
 Major Wilkinson was despatched with 
 the report of the America,!! triumph to 
 Congress, then in session at Yorktown. 
 He was received with great honor, and 
 had the rank of brigadier-general imme 
 diately bestowed upon him, in accordance 
 with the recommendation of Gates, who 
 also received every tribute which a grate 
 ful people could give. Gates s military 
 reputation was now at its height, and the 
 esteem of his friends and his own vanity 
 
 led him to entertain hopes of the chief 
 command of the patriot armies. 
 
 The success at Saratoga was a great 
 triumph for the American cause. Creasy 
 has justly ranked Gates s victory as one 
 among " the fifteen decisive battles of the 
 world." The Americans themselves were 
 now more sanguine than ever of achiev 
 ing their independence, and their luke 
 warm advocates in Europe at once be 
 came staunch friends. When news first 
 reached France of the triumphant march 
 of Burgoyne from the North, the French 
 government immediately despatched in 
 structions to Nantz and other seaports of 
 the kingdom, that not an American pri 
 vateer should be allowed -to enter them, 
 except in case of indispensable necessity, 
 for repairs or provisions. Franklin, Ad 
 ams, and Deaue, the American commis 
 sioners at Paris, were about leaving that 
 city in disgust with the selfish conduct 
 of the French government, when the in 
 telligence arrived of Burgoyne s surren 
 der. Now all was changed, and France 
 unhesitatingly came to the aid of a peo 
 ple who had proved that they were so 
 well able to defend themselves. She was 
 ready to make a treaty, lend her money, 
 send a fleet and troops, or do anything 
 by which to strengthen the power of her 
 new ally in striking the destined blow 
 against her old enemy. In December 
 following the memorable month of Sep 
 tember a treaty was arranged, and in Feb 
 ruary, 1778, the minister of Louis XVI. 
 signed it, and acknowledged the independ 
 ent United States. French fleets, and troops, 
 and money, soon gave proof of the sin 
 cerity of French promises, and hastened 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] EARLS COVENTRY AND CHATHAM ON AMERICA. 
 
 577 
 
 the consummation of the hopes of Amer 
 ica. Spain and Holland, soon afterward, 
 acknowledged the independence of the 
 "UNITED STATES;" and England was left 
 alone to struggle in her obstinate pride 
 against the inevitable fate which was to 
 sever for ever the American colonies from 
 her dominion., but only to bind the great 
 nation of the West in firmer ties of inter 
 est, if not of friendship, with Great Brit 
 ain. 
 
 Even in England, the steadfast friends 
 of the American cause saw its final tri 
 umph in the failure of Burgoyne s cam 
 paign, and boldly declared it. "Attend," 
 said the earl of Coventry, in the house of 
 lords, with the spirit and solemn utter 
 ance of a prophet, " to the vast extent of 
 the one [America], and the diminutive 
 figure of Britain; to their domestic situ 
 ations ; to the increase of population in 
 the one, and the inevitable decline of it 
 in the other ; the luxury, dissipation, and 
 all the concomitant effects, in this coun 
 try, and the frugality, industry, and con 
 sequent wise policy, of America. These, 
 my lords, were the main grounds on which 
 I presumed to trouble you from time to 
 time on this subject. I foresaiu then, as I 
 continue to do, that a period must arrive when 
 America tuould render herself independent; 
 that this country would fall, and the seat of 
 empire be removed beyond the Atlantic /" 
 
 The great earl of Chatham rose feebly 
 upon his crutch, but there came from his 
 ardent heart and eloquent lips the same 
 full gush, as of old, of generous sentiment 
 and burning words. " You can not," he 
 73 
 
 exclaimed, "I venture to say it, you can 
 not conquer America. . . . You may swell ev 
 ery expense, and every effort, still more 
 extravagantly ; pile and accumulate ev 
 ery assistance you can buy or borrow ; 
 traffic and barter with every little pitiful 
 German prince, that sells and sends his 
 subjects to the shambles of a foreign po 
 tentate : your efforts are for ever vain and 
 impotent doubly so from this mercena 
 ry aid on which you rely ; for it irritates 
 to an incurable resentment the minds of 
 your enemies, to overrun them with the 
 mercenary sons of rapine and plunder 
 devoting them and their possessions to 
 hireling cruelty ! If I ivere an American, 
 as I am an Englishman, ivhile a foreign troop 
 ivas landed in my country, 1 never would lay 
 
 down my arms never never never! 
 
 You can not conciliate America by your 
 present measures; you can not subdue 
 her by any measures. What, then, can 
 you do ? You can not conquer, you can 
 not gain : but you can address you can 
 lull the fears and anxieties of the mo 
 ment into an ignorance of the danger 
 that should produce them. But, my lords, 
 the time demands the language of truth : 
 we must not now apply the flattering unc 
 tion of servile compliance or blind com 
 plaisance. In a just and necessary war, 
 to maintain the right or honor of my coun 
 try, I would strip the shirt from my back 
 to support it; but in such a war as this, 
 unjust in its principle, impracticable in its 
 means, and ruinous in its consequences, 
 I would not contribute a single effort or 
 a single shilling !" 
 
578 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 n. 
 
 CHAPTER LXII. 
 
 Retreat of Washington to Germantown. Slow Advance of General Howe. Ho crosses the Sehuylkill. Storm versus 
 Battle. Succe>s of General Grey, and Defeat of Wayne. The British ahead. A Forced Contribution. The Scru 
 pulous Washington. Forts and Obstructions on the Delaware. Franklin s Ingenuity. Entry of the British into 
 Philadelphia. The Show. The Officers described. Adjournment and Removal of Congress. The British Fleet in 
 the Delaware. General Howe sends out a Force to co-operate. Attack on Germantown Washington s Plans. Pre 
 liminary Skirmish. The Enemy driven back. Musgrave in Chew s House. General Knox on Tactics. Panic of the 
 Americans. Their Retreat. Almost a Victory. Pursuit by the British. The Losses on Both Sides. 
 
 1777. 
 
 Sept. 13. 
 
 WASHINGTON, after the battle of 
 the Brandywine, collected his scat 
 tered troops at Chester, and then contin 
 ued his retreat, marching through Derby, 
 crossing the Schuylkill, and finally halt 
 ing to refresh his army at Ger 
 mantown, within six miles of 
 Philadelphia. Sir William Howe, as usu 
 al, was dilatory, and for several days con 
 tented himself with merely sending for 
 ward detachments to take possession of 
 Concord, Chester, and Wilmington. 
 
 While in camp at Germantown, Wash 
 ington detached a part of the militia, un 
 der General Armstrong, with the aid of 
 General Joseph Reed (who had volun 
 teered his services, as he was familiar with 
 the country), to throw up redoubts on 
 the banks of the Schuylkill, and occupy 
 the eastern or Philadelphia side of the 
 river, while he himself should cross with 
 his main body, to oppose the advance of 
 the enemy. The cominander-in-chief re 
 mained but twenty-four hours in German- 
 town ; and then, having ordered General 
 Putnam to send him a detachment of fif 
 teen hundred continental troops from his 
 post on the Hudson, he returned across 
 
 the Schuylkill river, and, taking the Lan 
 caster road, determined to offer battle to 
 General Howe. 
 
 The British commander, however, had 
 suddenly become unusually alert, and by a 
 quick movement had reached the Schuyl 
 kill, and crossed it, on his way to Phila 
 delphia, after Washington had advanced 
 to give him battle on the opposite side. 
 The two armies were, in fact, upon the 
 point of coming to an engagement pre 
 vious to Howe s crossing the river, but 
 were prevented by a most violent storm 
 of rain, which continued a whole day and 
 niii ht. When the weather cleared, it was 
 
 o 
 
 discovered that all the muskets were un 
 fitted for service, and that the ammuni 
 tion, of which each man had been supplied 
 with forty rounds, was entirely ruined! 
 Nothing now was to be done but to saek 
 out a strong piece of ground where the 
 troops might be secure, while the arms 
 were being put in order, and a fresh sup 
 ply of ammunition obtained. Washing 
 ton had encamped for this purpose near 
 Warwick, on French creek, when General 
 Howe succeeded in his manoeuvre of cros 
 sing the Schuylkill; not, however, without 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] WAYNE S DEFEAT. HOWE APPROACHES PHILADELPHIA. 579 
 
 an attempt to harass his rear. General 
 Wayne, with fifteen hundred men, was 
 sent off in the night., in order to take the 
 enemy by surprise. But his purpose hav 
 ing been detected, Howe detached a large 
 force under General Grey, who, coming 
 suddenly upon the Americans, and charg 
 ing them with the bayonet, drove them 
 from their covert in the woods, with the 
 loss of two or three hundred men. 
 
 " They had so far got the start," wrote 
 Washington, " before I received certain 
 intelligence that any considerable num 
 ber had crossed, that I found it in vain to 
 think of overtaking their rear with troops 
 harassed as ours had been with constant 
 marching since the battle of Brandy wine." 
 The men were so destitute of clothing, 
 and particularly of shoes, that the want 
 of this last essential article was a very se 
 rious obstruction to the progress of the 
 army. No less than one thousand of the 
 American soldiers were barefooted, and 
 forced to march in that condition ! Shoes 
 and blankets were now the great deside 
 rata, and to obtain them Washington was 
 (painful though he confesses it to have 
 been) obliged to extort a forced contri 
 bution from the inhabitants of Philadel 
 phia. His young aid-de-camp, Colonel 
 Alexander Hamilton, was sent forward as 
 the agent in this unpleasant business; but 
 the commander-in-chief took care to en 
 join upon him the utmost delicacy and 
 discretion in its execution. 
 
 General Howe was now sure of Phila 
 delphia, toward which city he immediate 
 ly marched; but Washington strove to 
 make his situation there as little "agree 
 able" as possible. He hoped to cut oil 
 
 Howe s supplies by land and by water, 
 and was disposed to think that the acqui 
 sition of Philadelphia might prove his 
 ruin instead of his good fortune. The 
 American army now crossed the Schuyl- 
 kill at Parker s ford, and encamped near 
 Pottsgrove, to refresh and await the rein 
 forcements expected from General Put 
 nam at Peekskill. In the hope of check 
 ing the advance to Philadelphia of the 
 British fleet, at that time anchored in the 
 Delaware, and of preventing the co-oper 
 ation of Admiral Lord Howe with his 
 brother the general, Washington was very 
 solicitous about the fortifications and ob 
 structions which had been constructed in 
 the river. 
 
 Benjamin Franklin, before proceeding 
 to Paris in his diplomatic capacity, had 
 already exercised his manifold ingenuity 
 in planning works to be raised on tho 
 Delaware, to protect his adopted city. 
 Subsequently, rows ofckevaux-de-frise, con 
 structed of immense beams of timber, 
 bolted together and stuck full of iron 
 spikes, were sunk in the channel of the 
 Delaware, near where it forms its junc 
 tion with the Schuylkill. Above these, 
 and about seven miles from Philadelphia, 
 was a battery, with heavy cannon, called 
 Fort Mifflin, situated upon the flat and 
 marshy ground of Mud or Fort island ; 
 while opposite, at Red bank, on the New- 
 Jersey shore, was a strong redoubt, with 
 intrenchments, called Fort Mercer, pro 
 tected in front by another fortified island. 
 Below, there was a further series of clicv- 
 aux-de-frisc in the channel of the Delaware 
 between Billing s island and Billingsport, 
 at which latter point, on the New-Jersey 
 
 i. . 
 
530 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 ]_PART II. 
 
 side, there was also a strong redoubt, 
 There were, moreover, several American 
 armed vessels, a number of row-galleys, 
 some fire-ships, and floating batteries, an 
 chored to defend the chevaux-de-frise, and 
 pi-event the approach to Philadelphia by 
 water. 
 
 General Sir William Howe had in the 
 meanwhile encamped at Gerniantown, 
 whence he sent a large body of troops, 
 under Earl Cornwallis, to take possession 
 of Philadelphia. Their entry into the city 
 was impressive. The inhabitants, natu 
 rally in expectation of violence and rap 
 ine, were greatly relieved by the orderly 
 conduct of the enemy. Their houses and 
 shops were closed, but the people, dressed 
 in their best apparel, did not fear to show 
 themselves in the streets. The British 
 grenadiers, of "tranquil look and digni 
 fied appearance," led the van, Lord Corn 
 wallis at their head, who, with his some 
 what short and thick-set person, his ami 
 able face, and affable manners, had no very 
 formidable look. The grenadiers, howev 
 er, were followed by some of the dreaded 
 Hessians, and in the eyes of the citizens 
 they appeared terrific. Their " brass caps, 
 their mustachios, their countenances, by 
 nature rnorose,and their music, that sound 
 ed better English than they themselves 
 could speak, Plunder! plunder! plunder / 
 gave," says an eye-witness of the scene, 
 a desponding, heart-breaking effect, as I 
 thought, to all." The meager, erect, and 
 sharp-featured Hessian general, Knyphau- 
 sen (a stiff formalist and military marti 
 net, though courtly in his way), was not 
 calculated to relieve the inhabitants from 
 their excited apprehensions of his merce 
 
 nary troops. Some of the more thought 
 ful of the citizens appeared sad, and the 
 timid frightened ; but to the great mass 
 the entry of the British troops, with their 
 gay accoutrements and lively music, was 
 a show upon which they looked, if not 
 with pleasure, certainly with a cheerful 
 curiosity. 
 
 Congress had, on the advance of the 
 British, adjourned to Lancaster, and sub 
 sequently to Yorktown, beyond the Sus- 
 quehannah river, where its members as 
 sembled, and continued to hold 
 
 Sept, 30, 
 
 their sessions as long as Phila 
 delphia remained in possession of the 
 enemy. 
 
 Sir William Howe, desirous of a co-op 
 eration with the fleet, in order to secure 
 supplies for his army, first directed his 
 attention toward the attainment of that 
 object. His army was, therefore, no soon 
 er encamped, than he began to erect bat 
 teries on the Delaware, near Philadelphia. 
 At the same time, he sent out a detach 
 ment of troops, with orders to cross the 
 river and make an attempt upon the 
 American works at Billingsport, on the 
 New-Jersey side, which commanded the 
 chevaux-de-frise, and interfered with the 
 advance of the British fleet to Philadel 
 phia. 
 
 Washington, discovering this move 
 ment of the enemy, and being reinforced 
 by fifteen hundred men detached by Gen 
 eral Putnam, determined to at- 
 
 Sept, 27. 
 tack them m their encampment 
 
 at Gerniantown, as, in consequence of 
 their force being weakened by the detach 
 ment sent out against Billingsport, it was 
 thought a favorable opportunity offered. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] WASHINGTON PLANS AN ATTACK OX HOWE. 
 
 581 
 
 The commander-in-chief was now at Pen- 
 nibacker s mill, on the Skippack road, 
 within fourteen miles of Germantown ; 
 and he proposed to march that distance 
 in the night, and if possible take General 
 Howe by surprise. 
 
 To understand Washington s plan of 
 attack, it is necessary to call to mind the 
 position of Germantown. This place, now 
 as it were a suburb of Philadelphia, was 
 then a small town or village, about six 
 miles northwest from that city. It was 
 chiefly composed of two rows of small 
 houses, extending over a mile in distance, 
 one on each side of the Skippack road, 
 which ran (forming one street, bordered 
 with peach-trees) directly through Ger 
 mantown from north to south, and, before 
 reaching the village, passing over the two 
 eminences of Chestnut hill and Mount 
 Airy. On the outskirts of Germantown, 
 to the north, and situated on the Skip- 
 pack road, was a large stone-house, be 
 longing to Chief-Justice Chew, a distin 
 guished Pennsylvania^, inclined to be 
 whiggish, but rather vacillating in his po 
 litical principles. Wissahickon creek, that 
 empties into the Schuylkill, was, together 
 with that river, at that time a rather re 
 mote western boundary of the village. 
 In addition to the Skippack road, which 
 ran directly through the centre of Ger 
 mantown, there were three other roads 
 which approached it from the north : the 
 Limekiln and Old York roads were on 
 the east of the central or Skippack road, 
 and the Manatawny or Ridge road to the 
 west, which, leading between Wissahickon 
 creek and Schuylkill river, crossed the 
 former at the southern border of the town. 
 
 Howe s encampment stretched diago 
 nally across the lower part of German- 
 town, being thus divided as it were by 
 the main street, or the Skippack road ; 
 to the west of which lay the left wing, 
 under General Knyphausen, extend ing to 
 the banks of the Schuylkill ; while to the 
 east stretched the right, commanded by 
 General Grant. The British centre occu 
 pied the houses in the main street or the 
 Skippack road the village itself, in fact. 
 To the north, there was posted on this 
 road an advanced guard, consisting of a 
 battalion of light-infantry and the fortieth 
 regiment of the line. The left wing was 
 covered by the German chasseurs, horse 
 and foot, who were stationed at " Van 
 Deering s mill," on the Schuylkill ; and the 
 right was guarded by the Queen s Rangers, 
 posted on the Old York road, and by the 
 light-infantry on the Limekiln. 
 
 Washington s plan of attack, as de 
 scribed by himself, was, to march a divis 
 ion of his army by each of the four roads 
 which, as we have seen, led to German- 
 town. The divisions of Generals Sullivan 
 and Wayne, supported by Conway s bri 
 gade, were to enter the town by the Skip- 
 pack road from the north, to attack the 
 British centre. The divisions of Greene 
 and Stephen were to take the Limekiln 
 road, and attack their right wing in front ; 
 while Generals Small wood and Forman, 
 with the Maryland and New-Jersey mili 
 tia, were to march by the Old York road, 
 and fall upon their rear. The enemy s 
 left, on the Schuylkill, was reserved for 
 General Armstrong and the Pennsylvania 
 militia, who were to proceed by the Man 
 atawny road. Lord Stirling, with Nash s 
 
582 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [I AIJT II 
 
 Oct. 3, 
 
 and Maxwell s brigades, was to form a 
 corps de reserve. 
 
 The inarch began at seven 
 o clock in the evening, Washing 
 ton accompanying Sullivan s division in 
 person. The distance was long, the night 
 dark, and the road rough ; and it was con 
 sequently daybreak before Sullivan s ad 
 vanced guard emerged from the woods 
 on Chestnut hill. Here it was expected 
 to find an advanced picket of the enemy, 
 but none made its appearance. A detach 
 ment was now sent forward under Cap 
 tain M Lane, who led his men on cautious 
 ly, as the morning was foggy, and noth 
 ing could be seen in the distance until he 
 reached "Allen s house," on Mount Airy, 
 where he fell in with an advanced picket 
 of the enemy posted there with two six- 
 pounders. M Lane attacked it, and drove 
 it down the hill arid back to the body of 
 light-infantry stationed in its rear, and 
 about two miles on the road in advance 
 of General Howe s centre in the town. 
 This preliminary skirmish soon aroused 
 the enemy, and the whole British encamp 
 ment was immediately astir, with the 
 drums beating to arms. 
 
 General Wayne hastened for 
 ward to sustain M Lane, as the 
 British light-infantry presented itself, in 
 full force, to dispute the passage of the 
 road. Wayne s troops came on so impet 
 uously, that the enemy broke before the 
 encounter. Their officers, however, re 
 formed them, and a fierce firing ensued. 
 They were nevertheless forced from their 
 ground ; but, being supported by the 
 grenadiers, they came up once more, and 
 renewed the struggle with great spirit. 
 
 Get, 4, 
 
 Sullivan s division and Conway s brigade 
 now arrived to the aid of Wayne, when 
 the British were unable to hold their po 
 sition, and were forced back, struggling 
 awhile as they retired ; but Wayne s men 
 charged them so fiercely with the bayo 
 net, that they finally fled for their lives, 
 hard pushed by the Americans, and beg 
 ging for mercy, but receiving none. At 
 this juncture, however, Colonel Musgrave, 
 with six companies of the fortieth regi 
 ment, succeeded as he retreated in get 
 ting possession of Chew s large stone 
 house. 
 
 While Wayne, with the advanced body, 
 continued to pursue the retreating British 
 into Germantown, the remainder of the 
 Americans were brought to a halt by Colo 
 nel Musgrave,. This officer had barricaded 
 the doors of Chew s house, and from the 
 windows his light-infantry kept up a mur 
 derous fire upon their pursuers. A dis 
 cussion now took place among the Ameri 
 can officers. Some were in favor of storm 
 ing the house, and others were opposed to 
 the consequent delay. General Reed was 
 for pushing on ; General Knox, of the ar 
 tillery, however, contended that it was 
 contrary to fill military precedent to leave 
 " a fort," possessed by the enemy, in the 
 rear. " What !" exclaimed Heed, " call that 
 <a fort, and lose the happy moment?" 
 Kuox s opinion, nevertheless, prevailed ; 
 and, that everything might be done ac 
 cording to the " rules of war," it was de 
 termined to send a summons to the com 
 mander of " the fort" to surrender. A 
 youth was therefore sent with a flag in 
 due form ; but he had no sooner reached 
 within musket-range, than he was shot 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 
 
 583 
 
 dead. The artillery was now brought up, 
 but even cannon-balls proved ineffectual. 
 Attempts were at last made to set fire to 
 the house. Some with bundles of straw, 
 and others with firebrands of pine-wood, 
 made their way amid a shower of bullets 
 to the lower part of the building, where 
 they strove to effect their purpose ; but 
 Musgvave s men were on the alert, and, 
 getting into the cellar of the house, shot 
 down each man before he could accom 
 plish his object. A half-hour was thus 
 lost in these vain and absurd efforts to 
 carry out Knox s formal tactics, and the 
 rear of Sullivan s division was prevented 
 from giving that aid to General Wayne 
 which might have proved of effective 
 service. 
 
 General Sullivan, however, in spite of 
 this delay of a part of his troops, being 
 reinforced by Nash s and Conway s bri 
 gades, succeeded, by leaving the Skip- 
 pack road, crossing a field, and marching 
 rapidly for a mile, in coming up with the 
 left of the enemy, and by a vigorous at 
 tack forcing it to retire. 
 
 The divisions of Generals Greene and 
 Stephen had, in accordance with Wash 
 ington s plan, gained the Limekiln road ; 
 but the latter having diverged, to assist 
 in the attack on Chew s house, Greene 
 was left to march against the enemy s 
 right with none but his own troops, con 
 sisting of Scott s and Muhlenberg s bri 
 gades. He succeeded, however, in dri 
 ving an advanced guard of light-infantry 
 before him, and in making his way to the 
 market-house in the town, where the Brit 
 ish right wing, under General Grant, was 
 posted. Greene began the attack with 
 
 spirit; and, as Forman and Smallwood, 
 with the militia of New Jersey and Ma 
 ryland, were rapidly getting by the Old 
 York road to the rear of the British right, 
 there was every prospect of success. At 
 this moment, however, whether from the 
 complicated nature of the plan, the thick 
 fog, or the mere nervous excitement of 
 the troops, a general panic seized upon 
 the Americans. A great confusion now 
 prevailed, and friend was mistaken for 
 foe. General Wayne s division, in the 
 heat of pursuit, was suddenly turned and 
 put to flight by the approach on its flank 
 of some American troops which were be 
 lieved to be those of the enemy. Ste 
 phen s division, too, was thrown into dis 
 order by making the same mistake in re 
 gard to Wayne s corps. Sullivan s men, 
 having shot their last round of ammuni 
 tion, had also been panic-struck by the 
 cry that the enemy were surrounding 
 them. " In the midst," said Washington, 
 "of the most promising appearances, when 
 everything gave the most flattering hopes 
 of victory, the troops began suddenly to 
 retreat, and entirely left the field, in spite 
 of every effort that could be made to rally 
 them." 
 
 It was not known until afterward how 
 near the Americans were of gaining a com 
 plete victory. The action had lasted two 
 hours and forty minutes, and the enemy 
 had been so hard pressed, that they were 
 about retreating to Chester. Washington 
 succeeded in bringing off all his artillery, 
 but lost, in killed, wounded, and missing, 
 nearly a thousand men ; while the ene 
 my, according to their own account, lost 
 but about five hundred. General Nash 
 
584 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 of North Carolina was killed, and Colonel 
 Mathews of Virginia taken captive, to 
 gether with a large number of prisoners 
 which he had obtained in the beginning 
 of the engagement. The British general 
 Agnew was mortally wounded, together 
 with other officers. 
 
 It was during the retreat, after the sin 
 gular panic which seized upon the army, 
 when the loss of the Americans was the 
 greatest. As soon as the British discov 
 ered how strangely the advantage of the 
 day was turning in their favor, they pur 
 
 sued it with great promptitude. Their 
 left wing was brought up by General 
 Grey, and, being joined on the road by 
 Lord Cornwallis with a detachment of 
 light-horse from Philadelphia, the fugi 
 tives were followed in hot pursuit. Gen 
 erals Greene and Wayne, however, cov 
 ered the retreat with great skill, and ofLen 
 brought their pursuers to a stand. Wash 
 ington continued to retire until the close 
 of the day, when he reached Perkimen 
 creek, some twenty miles distant from 
 Germantown. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIII. 
 
 General Howe s Works on the Delaware. Destruction of the American Ships. Success of the British at Billingsport. 
 Gups in the Chevaux-de-Frise. A Clear Run. Attack on Fort Mercer. Its Gallant Defence. Repulse of the Hes 
 sians. Death of Count Donop. A Victim of Ambition arid Avarice. Attack on Fort MiiHin. Repulse of the Brit 
 ish. Burning of a Ship-of-War. Effect of the American Triumph. Another Effort for the Command of the Dela 
 ware. A Second Attack upon Fort Mifflin. Irs Heroic Defence. Desperate Straits of the Garrison. Showers of 
 Bombs and Balls. Fall of Fort Mifflin. Washington in want of Reinforcements. Dilatoriness of Generals Gates 
 und Putnam. Effect of Age upon Putnam. 
 
 1777, 
 
 GENERAL SIR WILLIAM HOWE no 
 sooner reached Germantown, and 
 took possession of Philadelphia, than he 
 strove to obtain the command of the Del 
 aware, in order to secure the co-operation 
 of the fleet commanded by his brother, 
 Admiral Lord Howe. For this purpose, 
 as we have seen, he had begun to con 
 struct three batteries near the city, and 
 prepared to attack the American forts on 
 the river. 
 
 Philadelphia, being a seaport, and at 
 that time the largest town in the United 
 States, presented the greatest facilities 
 for constructing and fitting out naval 
 
 vessels. The few armed cruisers, both 
 public and private, then employed, had 
 accordingly been for the most part built 
 and prepared for sea on the Delaware, 
 where they remained until ordered lot- 
 service. Although, on the approach of 
 the British fleet off the mouth of that 
 river, some of the vessels had succeeded 
 in making their escape to sea, there were 
 others which had been left, and had now 
 sought refuge above the forts and obstruc 
 tions in the stream. Some of these were 
 at this time above and others below the 
 city; and when General Howe began to 
 erect his three batteries, it was obvious 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] DEFENCES OF THE DELAWARE. FORT MERCER. 
 
 585 
 
 that the communication between them 
 would be cut off. The Delaware, a twen 
 ty-four, and the Doria, a fourteen-gun ves 
 sel, together with several smaller armed 
 craft, accordingly moved in front of the 
 British works and opened a cannonade. 
 The Delaware, however, was so unfortu 
 nately placed, that she took the ground 
 on the ebb of the tide ; and her guns be 
 coming unmanageable, she was obliged to 
 strike to the enemy, who had brought 
 some fieldpieces to bear upon her. Her 
 consorts then retired, and General Howe 
 was allowed to continue the construction 
 of his batteries without interference. 
 
 The detachment of British troops, un 
 der Colonel Stirling, that had crossed the 
 Delaware to attack the American works 
 at Billingsport, on the New-Jersey side 
 of the river, had succeeded in carrying 
 them. The works having been disman 
 tled, the British frigate Roebuck broke 
 through the chevaux-de-frise which crossed 
 the channel of the Delaware at that point, 
 and made a gap sufficiently wide to ad 
 mit the largest man-of-war. The enemy s 
 next attempt was upon the forts and che- 
 vaux-de-frisc above. Great preparations 
 were made for their defence, as they were 
 deemed of the utmost importance by the 
 Americans. Washington himself declared 
 that the enemy s hopes of keeping Phila 
 delphia, and " finally succeeding in the 
 present campaign," depended upon them. 
 Efforts to cany them were made by the 
 British corresponding with those which 
 were put forth in their defence. 
 
 After the redoubt at Billingsport was 
 taken and the chevaux-de-frise broken by 
 the enemy, the defence of the Delaware 
 74 
 
 depended upon the works above Fort 
 Mercer, at Red bank, on the eastern or 
 New-Jersey side; and FortMifflin,on Mud 
 island, on the western or Pennsylvania 
 side. The fortifications of both were fair 
 ly constructed, and consisted of redoubts 
 and outworks. Two Maryland regiments, 
 commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Sam 
 uel Smith, garrisoned Fort Mifflin ; and 
 two of Rhode Island, under Colonel Chris 
 topher Greene, occupied Fort Mercer. 
 With Greene was a young Frenchman, 
 Captain Manduit Duplessis, who was serv 
 ing in the American army, and who, in 
 consequence of his skill as an engineer, 
 had been sent down to superintend the 
 construction of the additional fortifica 
 tions supposed to be necessary. The clic- 
 vaux-de-fnse in the channel below the isl 
 ands, which were his work, having been 
 finished, he was now busy in strengthen 
 ing the defences at Fort Mercer. 
 
 While a party of men, under the super 
 intendence of Duplessis, was engaged, on 
 the morning of the 22d of October, at 
 work on the outer defences, which were 
 still incomplete, a large force of Hessians 
 was seen suddenly to come through the 
 woods, and form almost within cannon- 
 shot. The garrison amounted to only four 
 hundred men. The enemy were twenty- 
 five hundred strong. The outworks of 
 the fort, as before remarked, were unfin 
 ished, and the redoubt within the enclo 
 sure was mounted with only fourteen 
 guns. Colonel Greene, however, deter 
 mined upon defending his post to the 
 last extremity. 
 
 When the Hessians came to a halt. 
 Count Donop, who commanded them, or- 
 
586 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_PART ir. 
 
 Oct. 22, 
 
 dered a parley to be beaten by the drums. 
 and sent forward an officer with a Hag, 
 who summoned the garrison to surrender, 
 and threatened that, in case of refusal, no 
 quarter would be given. " Tell your com 
 mander," replied Greene, " that we ask no 
 quarter, and will give none !" Count Do- 
 nop now advanced his men within a short 
 distance of the fort, and began to raise a 
 battery. 
 
 Colonel Greene was aware, from the 
 incomplete state of his outworks, that it 
 would be in vain to attempt to defend 
 them, and therefore resolved upon con 
 centrating his whole strength within the 
 
 O o 
 
 inner redoubt. Here, with his little gar 
 rison, he resolved to hold his ground, and 
 if possible beat off the superior force of 
 his antagonist. In the afternoon, 
 Count Donop, having completed 
 his battery, began a severe cannonade, 
 and under the cover of the fire inarched 
 forward his troops in two divisions. One 
 was to take the works on the north side ; 
 while the other, led by himself, was to 
 make the assault by the south. 
 
 The Americans awaited the approach 
 of the enemy, and gave one fire before 
 retiring to the redoubt. The Hessians 
 suffered severely; but as they advanced, 
 and found the outworks suddenly aban 
 doned, they believed that the garrison 
 had iled in fright. With one triumphant 
 shout, the enemy then pushed on, from 
 both the north and south sides. Passing 
 through the abalti*, crossing the ditches, 
 and leaping the pickets, they hurried for 
 ward, with Hag in hand, to plant it exult- 
 ingly upon the ramparts. Greene waited 
 until the scattered Hessians had closed in 
 
 together from the surrounding outworks, 
 and crowded toward the central redoubt ; 
 and, while they were thus concentrated 
 in a dense throng, he opened his artillery 
 upon them with terrible effect. 
 
 The assailants quailed before the unex 
 pected shock, and, as their comrades fell 
 thickly about them, would have fled, had 
 not the brave Count Donop sprung for 
 ward and rallied them. They came on 
 again impetuously, but a second cannon 
 ade from the redoubt checked their on 
 set, and caused them to waver. Rallying 
 once more, they were again pushing for 
 ward to the assault, when another mur 
 derous fire drove them back, and they 
 fled in confusion from the works. As they 
 were retreating from the outer defences, 
 the American flotilla of gun-boats and gal 
 leys, under Commodore Hazelwood, di 
 rected its guns upon the fugitives, and 
 galled them severely. 
 
 The loss of the Hessians amounted to 
 nearly four hundred, while that of the 
 Americans was only eight killed and twen 
 ty-nine wounded. While the young en 
 gineer, Captain Duplessis, was out with a 
 small detachment, making a survey of 
 the results of the engagement, he heard 
 a voice from among the dead and dyin^: 
 
 o / O 
 
 " Whoever you are, draw me hence." It 
 was that of Count Donop. Duplessis had 
 him instantly borne into the fort, where 
 he lingered for three days, and finally 
 died, at the age of thirty-seven. "This 
 is finishing a noble career early," said he 
 shortly before his death, " and I die the 
 victim of my ambition and of the avarice 
 of my sovereign."* 
 
 * Tliu elector of Ile.sse Cusscl. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] BURNING OF BRITISH SHIPS. FORT MIFFLIN. 
 
 The second in command of the Hes 
 sians, Lieutenant-Colonel Mingerode,was 
 also severely wounded in the assault, and 
 Lieutenant -Colonel Linsing succeeded. 
 He strove to reform his troops, but, in 
 spite of his efforts, they fled in confusion 
 to Haddonfield. 
 
 Simultaneously with the attack by land 
 on Fort Mercer, the British vessels in the 
 Delaware made an attempt upon Fort 
 Miillin, on the opposite side of the chan 
 nel. Admiral Howe sent up from below 
 (where his fleet was anchored off the 
 Pennsylvania shore, between Ruddy isl 
 and and Newcastle) a squadron, consist 
 ing of the Augusta, a sixty-four, the Mer 
 lin sloop-of-war, the Roebuck, a forty-four, 
 and several smaller ships. They succeed 
 ed, after the successful attack at Billings- 
 port, in readily passing through the gap 
 in the chevaux-de-frise which had been con 
 structed ; but, while sailing up toward the 
 fort, the Augusta and the Merlin got fast 
 aground, in consequence of the channel 
 having been altered by the obstructions 
 placed above. This delayed the attack, 
 and it was put off until the fol 
 lowing day. When the morning 
 opened, the men-of-war began a heavy 
 cannonade upon Fort MifTlin, which was 
 returned by both the fort itself and from 
 the American galleys in the river. In 
 the meantime, every effort was made by 
 the English to get off the Augusta and 
 the Merlin, but they stuck so fast, that it 
 was found impracticable. The Americans 
 now sent down some fire-ships, in order 
 to destroy them, but without effect. Soon 
 after, however, the Augusta took fire from 
 some pressed hay which had been secured 
 
 Oct. 23, 
 
 on her quarter to render her shot-proof. 
 The rest of the squadron dropped down 
 the river, and abandoned the attack, to 
 avoid the dangerous neighborhood of 
 the burning ship, which, after blazing a 
 short time, and the fire having reached 
 her magazine, blew up with a terrific ex 
 plosion. Most of her crew succeeded in 
 saving themselves, but the second-lieuten 
 ant, the chaplain, a gunner, and several 
 sailors, perished. The Merlin being still 
 fast, the British determined to leave her 
 to her fate ; and accordingly the crew, 
 having set fire to her, took to their boats, 
 and pulled off to the other vessels. 
 
 The successful resistance of the fcitv 
 on the Delaware was a source of great 
 satisfaction to the country, and Congress 
 gave expression to the feeling by voting 
 thanks and swords to Colonels Smith and 
 Greene and Commodore Hazelwood. 
 
 As General Howe s security at Phila 
 delphia (where he now proposed to make 
 his winter-quarters) depended upon his 
 wresting the command of the Delaware 
 from the Americans, he and his brother 
 resolved to persist in their efforts, in spite 
 of their first fruitless attempts. Washing 
 ton, too, was equally determined to throw 
 every obstacle in their way within his 
 power. But he was greatly crippled for 
 want of troops, General Gates having 
 withheld the reinforcements which the 
 commander-in-chief had expected from 
 the northern army ; and, until their arri 
 val, it was with difficulty that a single 
 man could be spared from his camp for 
 operations elsewhere. Small detachments 
 of troops \vere, however, sent to both Fort 
 Mifllin and Fort Mercer; and General Var- 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [_PAUT II. 
 
 mini was despatched with his brigade to 
 Red bank, in order to be in readiness to 
 give any aid that might be required by 
 either garrison. 
 
 Between the Pennsylvania shore and 
 Mud island, upon which Fort Mifllin was 
 situated, was Province island, an oozy bit 
 of larid ; mostly under water. There were, 
 however, two dry spots upon it. only about 
 four or five hundred yards from the west 
 ern side of Fort Mifllin, where the de 
 fences, consisting only of palisades, a sin 
 gle cannon, and two blockhouses, were 
 exceedingly weak. Lieutenant- Colonel 
 Smith, in command of the garrison of 
 Fort Mifflin, strove to provide against the 
 danger from this quarter. He erected a 
 two-gun battery on Mud island (where 
 his fort was), to command the dry place 
 on Province island. The enemy, in the 
 meantime, had marched down in consid 
 erable force from Philadelphia, in order 
 to take possession of this ground, with the 
 view of operating against Fort Mifflin. 
 They had sent a party, under an officer, 
 to make a preliminary survey of Prov 
 ince island, preparatory to the erection 
 of their works, when Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Smith brought such a well-directed fire 
 to bear upon them from his new battery, 
 that they were forced, after the loss of 
 their commander, to retreat to the main 
 land. 
 
 The British, however, crossing over in 
 larger numbers, soon made good their po 
 sition upon Province island, and were en 
 abled to erect no less than five batteries 
 within only five hundred yards of Fort 
 Miillin. This looked so formidable, that 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Smith began to give 
 
 up all hopes of a successful resistance, 
 and wrote to this effect to Washington ; 
 but he was urged, in reply, to defend the 
 post to the last. Smith, accordingly, did 
 his utmost. 
 
 The British at length had everything 
 in readiness for an attack, and began to 
 open their batteries from Prov- 
 
 i 1 mi CT^ ^ OV I0t 
 
 mce island. 1 he garrison ol b ort 
 Mifllin returned the fire with spirit; but 
 the heavy guns of the enemy, firing both 
 shell and ball, were doing irreparable mis 
 chief. On the first day, the blockhouses 
 and the new two-gun battery, on the out 
 side of the fort, were demolished, and 
 Lieutenant Treat killed. On the next. 
 away went the strong palisades, 
 a cannon in one ol the emora- 
 sures, and the barracks shattered into ru 
 ins. Lieutenant-Colonel Smith was now 
 disabled. He was engaged in writing a 
 note to General Varnum, in command of 
 the reserve force on the New-Jersey side 
 of the Delaware, when the chimney of the 
 barrack-room, being struck by a cannon- 
 ball, fell, scattering the bricks in every 
 direction, one of which knocked the com 
 mander senseless to the ground. He was 
 then borne away and taken across to Red 
 bank. Lieutenant-Colonel Russell was 
 the next in command, but lie was unable. 
 from ill health and fatigue, to take charge ; 
 and Major Thayer, of Rhode Island, vol 
 unteered to assume the duty. 
 
 On the third day the garrison still held 
 out ; but the British, by their incessant 
 cannonade, having demolished 
 the outer works, it was found ne 
 cessary to keep within the fort. Colonel 
 Fleury, the French engineer, made every 
 
 Nov. 11, 
 
 Nov. 12, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 FALL OF FORT MIFFLIN. 
 
 Nov. 13, 
 
 effort to repair the works, but without 
 success. The enemy kept up their fire 
 night and day. Fleury, however, declared 
 that the fort could still be defended, pro 
 vided reinforcements should arrive. The 
 reinforcements came from General Var- 
 num, and the garrison still persisted in 
 their gallant resistance. 
 
 Daring the night of the third 
 day, the British fleet succeeded 
 in co-operating with their land-force. A 
 merchantman was cut down, and, being 
 made into a floating battery, was towed 
 within g tin-shot of the fort, and early in 
 the morning began a heavy cannonade ; 
 but before noon its guns were silenced 
 by a well-directed fire from the still-re 
 sisting garrison. On the following day, 
 several men-of-war also bore up to the 
 attack : two passed into the channel be 
 tween Province island and the fort ; two 
 took position in front ; and others an 
 chored toward the New-Jersey shore, that 
 their guns might bear upon Fort Mercer. 
 In spite of this formidable force, the brave 
 garrison, exhausted as it was with fatigue, 
 still held out. The enemy continued to 
 pour in their shot and bombshells from 
 land-battery and ship s broadside, and yet 
 not a si<m of surrender from those reso- 
 
 o 
 
 lute men. The fort was in ruins, many 
 of the guns dismounted., and almost every 
 wall beaten down level with the marsh 
 of the island. The British ships had com 
 pletely surrounded the place, and closed 
 in so near, that hand-grenades were flung 
 into the fort, and men were killed upon 
 the platforms by sailors in the maintops; 
 and yet the garrison struggled manfully 
 on through the whole day against fate. 
 
 Nov. 15, 
 
 In the evening, Major Thayer deter 
 mined to give the survivors a chance of 
 escape, and accordingly sent most of the 
 garrison ashore. He, together with Cap 
 tains Fleury and Talbot (although the 
 two latter were wounded), remained with 
 thirty men until midnight, in order to re 
 move the military stores. This being ac 
 complished, they retired to Red 
 bank, having first set fire to what 
 was left of the woodwork of the fort. The 
 loss of the Americans during this gallant 
 struggle of the little garrison at Fort Mif- 
 flin against such overwhelming odds, was 
 two hundred and fifty in killed and wound 
 ed. 
 
 The loss of Fort Mifflin led to a good 
 deal of invidious remark on the part of 
 the censorious, and Washington thought 
 it necessary to justify his conduct. It 
 was contended that he should have given 
 greater relief to the fort, but it was clear 
 that he had done all that his resources 
 enabled him to do. He had thrown such 
 a garrison into Fort Mifilin as had been 
 found before sufficient to defend it to the 
 last extremity ; and he had likewise sta 
 tioned General Varnum s brigade at For.t 
 Mercer, opposite, to be in readiness to 
 give his aid. The only other practicable 
 mode of giving relief to the beleaguered 
 fort would have been to dislodge the en 
 emy from Province island. To have done 
 this, however, it would have been neces 
 sary to remove the whole or a consider 
 able portion of the army to the western 
 bank of the Schuylkill. There were many 
 and very forcible reasons against such a 
 movement. The stores at Easton, Beth 
 lehem, and Allentown, would have been 
 
590 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 
 
 uncovered, and the post at Red bank un 
 protected. It was also shown that, with 
 the army on the west side of the Schuyl- 
 kill, the British would have been able to 
 throw over such a force into New Jersey 
 as to overpower the garrison at Red-bank, 
 and so cut off all supplies from Fort Mif- 
 flin, opposite ; and " thus we should," said 
 Washington, " in all probability, have lost 
 both posts by one stroke." The enemy, 
 too. by taking possession of the fords up 
 on the Schuylkill, after Washington had 
 crossed, might have rendered the expect 
 ed junction of the northern army imprac 
 ticable ; and " should any accident have 
 happened to them," continued the com- 
 inander-in-ciiief, " we should have stood 
 a very poor chance of looking General 
 Howe in the face through the winter, 
 with an inferior army." The chief diffi 
 culty in the way of energetic operations 
 was the delay of the march of the troops 
 from the North. 
 
 The want of the reinforcements from 
 General Gates s army greatly embarrassed 
 all Washington s measures ; and so anx 
 ious was he for their arrival, that he de 
 spatched Colonel Alexander Hamilton, to 
 do his best to push them forward. It was 
 not only Gates, at Albany, who was so 
 dilatory, but Putnam also, at Peekskill. 
 
 Both of these generals were evidently 
 anxious to do something on their own" 
 account, and were not disposed to dimin 
 ish the forces under their commands, and 
 thus lessen the hopes of striking a blow 
 which might resound to their glory. Both 
 may have been actuated by the best of 
 motives, although it was supposed that 
 Gates was influenced by an ignominious 
 desire of thwarting Washington, whom he 
 was suspected of intriguing to supersede 
 in the chief command. The patriotism 
 of General Putnam was beyond suspicion, 
 but in the course of increasing years he 
 had become self-willed, and, having enter 
 tained the project of an attack upon New 
 York, was not inclined to give up his pet 
 idea, which he nursed with all the fond 
 ness of dotage, however chimerical and 
 absurd. Young Hamilton, nevertheless, 
 though he found "many unaccountable 
 delays thrown in his way," succeeded by 
 his prompt energies in overcoming them, 
 and soon extorted from the aged Putnam 
 and the unwilling Gates those reinforce 
 ments from Albany and Peekskill, which, 
 had they come at an earlier day, might 
 have saved the forts on the Delaware, 
 and rendered Philadelphia at least "a very 
 ineligible situation for the enemy" during 
 the winter. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] FORT MERCER SURRENDERS TO LORD CORNWALLIS. 
 
 591 
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 Fall of Fort Mercer. Washington too late. The British command the Delaware. A Gallant Naval Exploit. The 
 Raleigh and the Alfred. Their Cruise. Successful Attack upon a Fleet. Success of American Privateers. Wash 
 ington at Whitemarsh. Arrival of the Northern Army. Its Miserable Plight. Shoes wanted. A Substitute proposed. 
 
 Raw-Hide a Failure. Plans of Attack. Sir William Howe on the Move. General Greene ordered to march. 
 
 The Marquis Lafayette finds a Chance for Glory. His Extensive Designs. Martial Fancies. Lafayette gets into 
 Danger, but gets out of it. [Ms own Account of the Affair. He is rewarded with the Command of a Division. Gen 
 eral Stephen superseded. Howe offers Battle. Washington remains on the Defensive. Howe returns to Philadel 
 phia. Washington in search of Winter-Quarters. 
 
 1777, 
 
 FORT MERCER., situated, as before 
 described, at Red-bank, on the New- 
 Jersey side of the Delaware, was still in 
 possession of the Americans. The fort 
 was held by the garrison which, under the 
 command of Colonel Greene, had so gal 
 lantly repulsed Count Donop and his Hes 
 sians ; and General Varnuin with his bri 
 gade was stationed in the neighborhood. 
 As this post partially commanded the Del 
 aware, thus embarrassing the movements 
 of the British fleet, and protecting the 
 few American armed vessels in the river, 
 it was determined to make an effort to 
 hold it. With this view, Generals St. Glair 
 and Knox, and Baron de Kalb, were sent 
 down by Washington to take a survey of 
 the ground, and to endeavor to form a 
 
 o - 
 
 judgment of the most probable means of 
 securing its possession. Soon afterward 
 intelligence was received that a large Brit 
 ish force, commanded by Lord Cornwal- 
 lis, Lad crossed the Delaware from Phila 
 delphia to New Jersey ; and it being in 
 ferred that his object was Red-bank, Wash 
 ington ordered Generals Greene and Hun- 
 
 o 
 
 tingdon, together with Glover s brigade, 
 to march to its support. They were, how 
 
 ever, too late. Cornwallis approached 
 with so large a force, before the reinforce 
 ments sent by Washington could arrive, 
 that it was futile to attempt resistance ; 
 and Red-bank was thus abandoned to the 
 enemy, leaving the Delaware, from the 
 capes to Philadelphia, in the full posses 
 sion of the Howes. The Americans now 
 destroyed the few sea-vessels which they 
 had in the river, consisting of the Andrea 
 Doria, of fourteen guns, and the Hornet 
 and the Wasp, of ten and eight respect 
 ively. The galleys, by keeping close in 
 to the New-Jersey shore, were enabled to 
 make their escape to the shallow water 
 above the city. 
 
 While these occurrences were taking 
 place on the Delaware, there was a gal 
 lant little exploit effected at sea, which 
 proved that there was still some spirit 
 left among American naval men, although 
 their character for daring had been some 
 what tarnished by the conduct of Com 
 modore Hazelwood and his officers, who 
 were thought to have been less efficient 
 than they might have been during the 
 brave but unsuccessful struggle to hold 
 the forts on the Delaware. 
 
592 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKI 
 
 The Raleigh, a twelve-pounder frigate, 
 having been fitted out at Portsmouth, in 
 New Hampshire, was put under the com 
 mand of Captain Thompson, and sailed in 
 company with the Alfred, a twenty-gun 
 vessel, commanded by Captain Hinman. 
 Their first commission was to proceed to 
 France, in order to bring thence military 
 stores that were awaiting transportation 
 to America. They got to sea, and made 
 a <Ood run of the coast, when thev fell in 
 
 o * 
 
 with the Nancy, a trader, and captured 
 her. From her captain it was discovered 
 that she had been left the day before by 
 the Windward-island fleet of merchant 
 men, bound to the West Indies, which was 
 under the convoy of four British men-of- 
 war, the Camel, the Druid, the Weasel, 
 and the Grasshopper. Captain Thomp 
 son, having learned their probable posi 
 tion, resolved to give chase. In twentj^- 
 four hours he got sight of them 
 from his masthead, and before 
 night he was close enough to count the 
 sixty sail composing the convoy, and to 
 discover the positions of the men-of-war. 
 Thompson, having obtained from his prize 
 (the Nancy) the signals of the enemy, sig 
 nalled his consort as if she belonged to 
 the convoy. The two were astern, and 
 to the windward of the British fleet; and 
 at night Thompson spoke the Alfred, and 
 told her commander to keep near him, as 
 he intended to run in among the enemy 
 and lay the commodore aboard. 
 
 In the course of the night the wind 
 came round to the northward; and the 
 licet having hauled by the wind, the Ra- 
 leigh and the Alfred were brought to the 
 leeward. At break of day the breeze 
 
 Sept. 3, 
 
 freshened ; and as, in order to effect his 
 purpose, it was necessary to carry more 
 sail, Thompson ordered the canvas to be 
 spread. Unfortunately, the Alfred could 
 not bear it, and fell to the leeward a long 
 distance; while the Raleigh, under double- 
 reefed topsails, fetched handsomely into 
 the fleet. Thompson could not shorten 
 sail, lest he might be detected as a stran 
 ger; and, giving up all hope of aid from 
 his consort, he boldly steered in among 
 the enemy s ships, and hove to, in order 
 that the merchantmen astern might draw 
 
 o 
 
 more ahead of him. He now filled away, 
 and, steering directly through the con 
 voy, made for the vessel-of-war most to 
 the windward. As he passed, he spoke 
 some of the merchantmen ; and, in order 
 to keep up his deception, he gave them 
 orders about their course, and continued 
 to use the enemy s signals. With her 
 guns housed and her ports lowered, and 
 there being no visible preparations for 
 action, none as yet suspected the true 
 character of the Raleigh. 
 
 Captain Thompson now ran his ship 
 alongside the Druid, of twenty guns, com 
 manded by Captain Carteret, and, running 
 out his guns and setting his ensign, or 
 dered the enemy to strike. The Druid 
 was so taken by surprise, that everything 
 on board of her was thrown into confu 
 sion, and even her sails got aback. The 
 Raleigh at this moment threw into her a 
 heavy broadside, which served to increa.se 
 the disorder. Thompson continued firing, 
 and with such rapidity, that in twenty 
 minutes he had poured into his enemy a 
 dozen broadsides, without receiving hard 
 ly a shot in return. A squall coining on, 
 
UKVOLUTIONAKY.] CAPTAIN THOMPSON S GALLANT NAVAL EXPLOIT. 
 
 593 
 
 Sept. 5. 
 
 closed in the two vessels from all view of 
 the rest; but, when it cleared away, the 
 convoy was seen scattered, and making 
 off in all directions. The other vessels- 
 of-war, however, were coming up to the 
 rescue of the Druid, and Thompson found 
 it necessary to leave his adversary. He 
 therefore ran to the leeward and joined 
 his consort, the Alfred. Shortening sail, 
 the two ships waited for the British men- 
 of-war to come up ; but, night ap 
 proaching, the latter hauled in 
 with the fleet again. Thompson followed 
 them for some days, but did not succeed in 
 provoking them to a combat. The Druid 
 was so greatly damaged in the encounter, 
 that she was obliged to return to England 
 for repairs. Her loss was six killed and 
 twenty-six wounded ; that of the Raleigh 
 was only three men killed and wounded.* 
 During the whole year 1777, the loss 
 of the British commercial marine was no 
 less than four hundred and sixty-seven 
 sail, principally taken by American pri 
 vateers, though seventy men-of-war were 
 kept on the American coast alone to pro 
 tect English vessels.f 
 
 Washington s present encamp 
 ment was at Whitemarsh, within 
 fourteen miles of Philadelphia. While 
 here, the northern army at last arrived, 
 and in such wretched condition in regard 
 to clothing, that a large part of Morgan s 
 corps had to remain in camp for want of 
 shoes, and only a hundred and seventy 
 were sufficiently well shod to be able to 
 march when Washington was sending 
 those reinforcements to Red-bank which 
 
 * History of the Navy of the United States, by J. Fcnni- 
 more Cooper. t Ib. 
 
 75 
 
 Nov. 22. 
 
 arrived too late to save it. Shoes had 
 become so scarce in the camp, that the 
 commander-in-chief was induced to offer 
 a reward for a substitute. Accordingly 
 the following was posted about, as a stim 
 ulus to the inventive genius of the army : 
 
 " The commander-in-chief offers a re 
 ward of ten dollars to any person who 
 shall, by nine o clock on Monday morn 
 ing, produce the best substitute for shoes, 
 made of raw-hides. The commissary of 
 hides is to furnish the hides, and the ma 
 jor-general of the day is to judge of the 
 essays, and assign the reward to the best 
 artist." 
 
 What the result was, has never been 
 recorded ; although it is probable that, as 
 shoes remained for a long time subse 
 quently a pressing want in the army, the 
 raw-hide substitute never came into use. 
 
 While Lord Cornwallis was inarching 
 against Red-bank, a council of war was 
 held in the American camp, to consider 
 the propriety of taking advantage of the 
 occasion of his absence, to make an attack 
 on Philadelphia. Four of the fifteen gen 
 eral officers were in favor of it, but eleven 
 opposed it, and the idea was abandoned. 
 This, no doubt, was a judicious resolve; 
 for, although the enemy left at Philadel 
 phia were not greater in number than 
 Washington s army, now that he was re 
 inforced by the northern troops, their dis 
 cipline and condition were much better. 
 Sir William Howe, too, having concentra 
 ted his troops within the cit}^, had pro 
 tected them by skilfully-constructed de 
 fensive works. His lines on the north 
 side of Philadelphia stretched from river 
 to river, and were defended by a chain 
 
594 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [l-AllT II 
 
 of fourteen strong redoubts, with here and 
 there abattis and circular works, while his 
 flanks were each protected by a river, and 
 his rear by the junction of two. 
 
 General Howe, finding that Washing 
 ton was not disposed to attack him in his 
 encampment at Philadelphia, resolved up 
 on a forward movement himself, hoping, 
 as he said in his despatch to the British 
 minister, that it would " be attended with 
 the success that is due to the activity and 
 spirit of his majesty s troops." Washing 
 ton had been well informed of the inten 
 tions of the enemy, and as early as the 
 28th of November declared that he would 
 not be disappointed if they come out 
 this night or very early in the morning.? 
 He accordingly wrote to General Greene 
 (who was now returning from his futile 
 inarch into New Jersey, where he had ar 
 rived too late to thwart Cornwallis s ex 
 pedition against Red-bank), urging him 
 to push forward the rear brigades with all 
 despatch, and hasten on himself to the 
 camp. 
 
 During this march of Greene, the young 
 marquis de Lafayette had an opportunity, 
 for which he was ever eager, of gratifying 
 his desire for military glory. After his 
 wound at the battle of the Brandy wine, 
 he had been conducted to Bethlehem, in 
 Pennsylvania, where he remained, under 
 the nursing care of the kindly Moravians, 
 for nearly two months. While listening 
 to the sermons of the peace-loving breth 
 ren, the marquis, with the ardor so natu 
 ral to youth, was concocting all kinds of 
 military schemes. He planned a descent 
 upon the English West-India islands,which 
 he proposed to attack with the connivance 
 
 of the French commander of Martinique, 
 to whom he wrote, explaining his design. 
 He also conceived an extensive expedi 
 tion against the British possessions in the 
 East Indies, and solicited permission from 
 the French prime minister to conduct an 
 American force to the Isle of France. 
 whence he proposed to strike his great 
 blow against the English power in the 
 East. The marquis found the good Mo 
 ravians as little disposed to concur \\iih 
 his grand views of stirring up the whole 
 world to contention as he was to follow 
 their precepts of universal love. They 
 ceased not to deplore " his warlike poli 
 cy," but he continued to indulge in his 
 martial fancies. They preached peace, 
 but his voice was " still for war/ 
 
 Lafayette now became impatient, and 
 determined, although not yet completely 
 cured of his wound, to seek an opportu 
 nity of carrying his martial theories into 
 practice. When General Greene s trum 
 pets, therefore, sounded in his ears, he 
 bade good-by to the peaceful Moravians, 
 and buckled on his sword again. Greene 
 welcomed the young marquis, and grati 
 fied his eagerness for fight, by allowing 
 him, in accordance with his own request, 
 to reconnoitre Cornwallis on the earl s re 
 turn from Red-bank, and to make an at 
 tack if the circumstances should justify 
 it. Lafavette accordingly went off in 
 
 *- t_/ t- 
 
 high spirits, with ten light-horse, about a 
 hundred and fifty riflemen, and two pick 
 ets of militia. 
 
 Lord Cornwallis was just on the point 
 of sending his troops across the Delaware 
 at Gloucester, when Lafayette, in his ea 
 gerness to reconnoitre, came so close to 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] LAFAYETTE SUPERSEDES GENERAL STEPHEN. 
 
 the enemy, that he was near being cut off 
 by a company of dragoons sent to inter 
 cept him. lie escaped, however, and lived 
 to engage in a skirmish, and to describe 
 it, which he did as follows in a letter to 
 General Washington : 
 
 "After having spent," wrote the mar 
 quis, the most part of the day in making 
 myself well acquainted with the certainty 
 of the enemy s motions, I came pretty 
 late into the Gloucester road, between 
 the two creeks. I had ten light-horse, 
 almost one hundred and fifty riflemen, and 
 two pickets of militia. Colonel Arrnand, 
 Colonel Lannney, and the chevaliers Du- 
 plessis and Gimat, were the Frenchmen 
 with me. A scout of my men, under 
 Duplessis, went to ascertain how near to 
 Gloucester were the enemy s first pick 
 ets; and they found, at the distance of 
 two miles and a half from that place, a 
 strong post of three hundred and fifty 
 Hessians, with fieldpieces, and they en 
 gaged immediately. As my little recon 
 noitring-party were all in fine spirits, I 
 supported them. We pushed the Hes 
 sians more than half a mile from the place 
 where their main body had been, and we 
 made them run very fast. British rein 
 forcements came twice to them, but, very 
 far from recovering their ground, they 
 always retreated. The darkness of the 
 night prevented us from pursuing our ad 
 vantage. After standing on the ground 
 we had gained, I ordered them to return 
 very slowly to Haddonfield." 
 
 The young marquis had only lost one 
 man killed and six wounded, and was so 
 charmed with the good conduct of his 
 troops, that he thus emphatically praised 
 
 it in the conclusion of his letter : " I take 
 the greatest pleasure in letting you know 
 that the conduct of our soldiers was above 
 all praise. I never saw men so merry, so 
 spirited, and so desirous to go on to the 
 enemy, whatever force they might have, 
 as that small party, in this little fight."* 
 When the account of the skirmish was 
 transmitted to Congress by Washington, 
 with this acknowledgment of Lafayette s 
 gallantry " I am convinced he possesses 
 a large share of that military ardor which 
 generally characterizes the nobility of his 
 country" that body appointed the mar 
 quis to the command of the division in 
 the continental army lately vacated by 
 the dismission of General Stephen, of Vir 
 ginia, who had unfortunately acquired 
 habits which rendered him unfit for ser 
 vice, and threw a shade over the bright 
 reputation of his earlier days. 
 
 The movement of General Howe did 
 not occur quite as soon as was expected, 
 and it was not until the 4th of December 
 that word was brought into Washington s 
 camp atWhitemarsh that the enemy were 
 about attacking it that night. A detach 
 ment of one hundred men, under Captain 
 M Lane, was immediately sent out to re 
 connoitre. They soon discovered a van 
 guard of the British on the Germantown 
 road, and managed to harass and check 
 
 its approach during the night. 
 
 Dec. 5. 
 
 At break of day the next morn 
 ing, the enemy appeared in full force up 
 on Che.stnut hill, on the Skippack road, 
 only three miles from Washington s en 
 campment. Brigadier-General Irvine was 
 sent forward with six hundred Pennsyl- 
 
 * Sparks. 
 
596 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II 
 
 vaiiia militia, to harass the British light 
 advanced parties. A skirmish ensued, in 
 which Irvine was wounded and taken 
 prisoner, his men having given way after 
 the first encounter, and left their disabled 
 commander, with a half-dozen of his sol 
 diers in the same plight, on the field. 
 Nothing more occurred during the day, 
 but General Sir William Howe with his 
 staff of officers was seen to reconnoitre 
 the ground. 
 
 During the night, the British advanced 
 still closer, and took a position on the 
 left, and only a mile from Washington s 
 encampment. Here they remained for 
 two days, and then moved a little farther 
 to the left, with the evident purpose of 
 provoking battle. Washington, however, 
 w r as on strong ground, and was not dis 
 posed to pit his ill-disciplined and suffer 
 ing troops against the well-conditioned 
 regulars of General Howe s army, and so 
 throw away the advantage of his position 
 on the hazard of an unequal conflict. 
 
 Notwithstanding, some skirmishes took 
 place between the advanced parties of the 
 two armies. On one occasion, Colonel 
 Morgan with his rifle-corps, and Colonel 
 Gist with the Maryland militia, had a 
 short but hot engagement with the ene 
 my on Edge hill, in which both parties 
 suffered severely, but the Americans were 
 compelled to retreat before the superior 
 force of their antagonists, after a loss of 
 nearly fifty killed and wounded. Among 
 the latter was Major Morris, of Morgan s 
 rifles. 
 
 On the following day, the manoeuvres 
 
 of General Howe induced the 
 Dec. 8, 
 
 Americans to believe that he con- 
 
 Dec, 9, 
 
 templated a general assault. Washing 
 ton was not only prepared for him, but, 
 as he always was on the approach of an 
 engagement, eager for the attack. He 
 was constantly on horseback, riding along 
 his lines, and exhorting his men to duty. 
 He earnestly entreated them to stand 
 firm, and to rely mainly upon their bayo 
 nets to resist the assault of the enemy. 
 His resolute presence, and earnest though 
 calmly-spoken words, served to bind each 
 man in faithful obedience to their great 
 leader s commands. The day passed, ho \y- 
 ever, without the occurrence of the ex 
 pected event. 
 
 The next day it was discovered that 
 the enemy had taken occasion of 
 the night, after having lit up all 
 their camp-fires, to retire silently toward 
 Philadelphia. They had gone too far to 
 be pursued, and Washington s disappoint 
 ment at the change in the purpose of 
 the British is strongly expressed in these 
 words to the president of Congress : " I 
 sincerely wish that they had made an at 
 tack, as the issue in all probability, from 
 the disposition of our troops and the 
 strong situation of our camp, would have 
 been fortunate and happy. At the same 
 time, I must add that reason, prudence, 
 and every principle of policy, forbade us 
 from quitting our post to attack them. 
 Nothing but success would have justified 
 the measure, and this could not be ex 
 pected from their position." 
 
 General Howe s reason for not making 
 the attack was equally well founded. He 
 saw that the American army was too 
 strongly posted, and feared lest the issue 
 which Washington anticipated would be 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] WASHINGTON SELECTS VALLEY FORGE. 
 
 59 . 
 
 so happy and fortunate to the Americans, 
 should prove quite the reverse to the 
 British. 
 
 There seemed little prospect now of 
 further active hostilities during the pres 
 
 ent campaign, and Washington was anx 
 iously considering how to dispose of his 
 army for the rest of the winter. The 
 great question with all was, " Where to 
 look for winter-quarters ?" 
 
 CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 The Question of Winter-Quarters. Valley Forge selected by Washington. Description of Valley Forge. Motives for 
 the Selection. The Winter of 1777- 78. Destitution of the Army. A Day of Praise and Thanksgiving. Construc 
 tion of lints. Rewards of Labor. Hunger and Cold. Remissness of Congress. The Commissariat Department in 
 Fault. Not a Hoof. Twelve Thousand Hungry Men. No Soap. No Shirts to wash. The Soldiers harefoot and 
 naked. No Blankets: no Sleep. Cry of the Destitute: "No Pay, no Clothes, no Provisions, no Rum!" Famine, 
 Disease, and Death. Washington still hopeful. Washington in Prayer. He rebukes the Interincddlers of Pennsyl 
 vania. Occasional Murmurs and Disobedience. Coercive Measures. Their Danger. Resistance of the Inhabitants. 
 Putrid Camp-Fever. Dissolution of the Army imminent. 
 
 1777, 
 
 THE question of a proper place 
 for winter-quarters for his army was 
 submitted by Washington, with his usual 
 modest regard for the opinion of his mili 
 tary associates, to a council of war. The 
 officers, however, differed widely in their 
 views. Some were in favor of quarter 
 ing the troops at Wilmington ; some were 
 for cantoning them in the valley of Tre- 
 dj fme, a few miles west of the Schuylkill 
 river while others argued in favor of sta 
 tioning them in a line from Reading to 
 Lancaster. Such was the diversity of 
 opinions, that Washington, as frequently 
 happened, was left to decide the matter 
 according to his own judgment. He de 
 termined to winter the army in Valley 
 Forge. 
 
 Valley Forge is a small and shallow 
 valley in Chester county, Pennsylvania, 
 about twenty miles from Philadelphia, 
 formed between some rugged hills con 
 
 taining!; iron-ore, from the working of 
 
 tj / o 
 
 which it derived its name. It is situated 
 on the western bank of the Schuylkill 
 river. There is now a town of some im 
 portance on the site of the old camping- 
 ground, but during the Revolution there 
 were only a few scattered settlers on the 
 banks of the little stream which flows 
 through the bottom of the valley. On 
 the sides of the hills Washington now 
 proposed to encamp his troops, and there 
 winter them in huts to be built out of 
 the forest-timber growing wildly about, 
 and having their interstices filled with 
 clay from the untilled soil. The motive 
 which governed the commander-in-chief 
 in selecting this position was explained 
 by him in the following order to his ar 
 my previous to taking up his march : 
 " The general," he said, " ardently wish 
 es it were now in his power to conduct 
 the troops into the best winter-quarters. 
 
598 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 But where are these to be found ? Should 
 we retire to the interior parts of the state, 
 we should find them crowded with virtu 
 ous citizens who, sacrificing their all, have 
 left Philadelphia, and fled thither for pro 
 tection. To their distresses, humanity for 
 bids us to add. This is not all : we should 
 leave a large extent of fertile country to 
 be despoiled and ravaged by the enemy." 
 Washington believed Valley Forge to 
 be the position which would enable his 
 army to inflict the least distress and give 
 the most security ; and there w 7 e must 
 make ourselves," he said, " the best shel 
 ter in our power." While the huts were 
 yet unbuilt, Washington, conscious of the 
 trials to which his badly-clothed troops, 
 unprovided with shelter in the midst of 
 winter, would be subjected, expresses, in 
 an appeal to their fortitude, the hope that 
 " the officers and soldiers, with one heart 
 and one mind, will resolve to surmount 
 every difficulty, with a fortitude and pa 
 tience becoming their profession, and the 
 sacred cause in which they are engaged. 
 He himself," adds the general, " will share 
 in the hardships and partake of every 
 inconvenience," 
 
 Never was human endurance more se 
 verely tasked than in the trials of the 
 whole American army during the hard 
 winter of 1777-78. When the 
 troops moved from Whitemarsh 
 to Valley Forge, they were already so des 
 titute of shoes and stockings, that their 
 footsteps might be tracked in blood on 
 the hard, frozen ground. It seemed al 
 most mockery that on the very day be 
 fore the army entered the valley which 
 was destined to be the scene of so much 
 
 Dec. 11. 
 
 suffering, was that which, in ac- 
 
 Dec, IS. 
 
 Dec. 19. 
 
 cordance with the appointment 
 of Congress, was to be kept as " a day of 
 praise and thanksgiving." The army halt 
 ed, and the solemnities of the day being 
 reverentially observed by every officer 
 and soldier, the whole body of 
 troops, on the following morn 
 ing, resumed the march to Valley Forge, 
 where they arrived the same day. 
 
 The troops were at once scattered over 
 the rugged hills, and, being divided into 
 parties of twelve men each, were busily 
 occupied in constructing those rude huts 
 which were to be their only shelter from 
 the severity of a North American winter. 
 The very orders of the army, giving uni 
 formity to misery, show the hard neces 
 sities to which all alike were now com 
 pelled to submit. The huts were to be 
 fourteen feet by six; the sides, ends, and 
 roofs, to be made with logs ; the roofs to 
 be made tight with split slabs, or in some 
 other way; the sides to be made tight 
 with clay ; a fireplace to be made of wood, 
 and secured with clay on the inside, eigh 
 teen inches thick ; the fireplace to be in 
 the rear of the hut ; the door to be in 
 the end next the street; the doors to be 
 made of split oak-slabs, unless boards could 
 be procured ; the side-walls to be six and 
 a half feet high. One such hut was ap 
 portioned to each twelve soldiers, while 
 no person under the rank of a field-officer 
 was entitled to the privilege of a hut io 
 himself. The whole were to be arranged, 
 as is usual with an encampment, in regu 
 lar streets. 
 
 Should necessity alone not prove a suf 
 ficient stimulus to labor, the soldiers were 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] DESTITUTION AND SUFFERING IN THE ARMY 
 
 599 
 
 encouraged " to industry and art" by the 
 promise of a reward of twelve dollars to 
 the party in each regiment which should 
 finish its hut in " the quickest and most 
 workmanlike manner." And, as boards 
 for the covering of the huts were difficult 
 to be got, a provocative to the exercise 
 of ingenuity was offered in the prize of a 
 hundred dollars to any officer or soldier 
 who, in the opinion of three gentlemen 
 appointed to be judges, should devise a 
 substitute equally good, but cheaper, and 
 more quickly made. 
 
 With a little ingenuity and much labo 
 rious perseverance, it was found practi 
 cable to raise huts ; but there were other 
 necessities which no industry or skill of 
 the soldier could provide or power of en 
 durance surmount. The men must be 
 fed and clothed. Hunger and cold are 
 too severely extortionate to be resisted 
 by any conscientous appeals to the vir 
 tue of self-denial. Congress, by some un 
 wise changes, had so completely disorgan 
 ized the commissariat department, that it 
 failed almost entirely in providing for the 
 wants of the army. Colonel Joseph Tru in- 
 bull, who had been appointed commissary- 
 general by Washington, resigned at the 
 beginning of the year, in consequence of 
 the officious meddling of Congress with 
 the department, and ever since the com 
 missariat had been at the mercy of im 
 provident folly and cunning dishonesty. 
 " I do not know/ wrote the Commander- 
 in-chief, " from what cause this alarming 
 deficiency, or rather total failure of sup 
 plies, arises." Again, he says : " Unless 
 some great and capital change takes place 
 in that line, this army must be inevitably 
 
 reduced to one or other of these three 
 things starve, dissolve, or disperse, in 
 order to obtain subsistence in the best 
 manner they can." 
 
 But few days had passed in Valley 
 Forge when this " melancholy and alarm 
 ing truth" was discovered, that the com 
 missary in the camp had not " a single 
 hoof of any kind to slaughter, and not 
 more than twenty-five barrels of flour" 
 to feed some twelve thousand hungry 
 men ! " The soap, vinegar, and other ar 
 ticles," wrote Washington, " allowed by 
 Congress, we see none of, nor have we 
 seen them, I believe, since the battle of 
 Brandywine. The first, indeed, we have 
 now little occasion for ; few men having 
 more than one shirt, many only the moi 
 ety of one, and some none at all. In ad 
 dition to which, as a proof of the little 
 benefit received from a clothier-general, 
 and as a further proof of the inability of 
 an army, under the circumstances of this, 
 to perform the common duties of soldiers 
 (besides a number of men confined to hos 
 pitals for want of shoes, and others in 
 farmers houses on the same account), we 
 have, by a field-return this day made, no 
 less than two thousand eight hundred 
 and ninety-eight men now in camp unfit 
 for duty, because they are barefoot and 
 otherwise naked." 
 
 Thousands of the soldiers were without 
 blankets, and many kept cowering and 
 awake the whole night about the camp- 
 fires, for fear lest, if they went to sleep, 
 they might be frozen for want of cover 
 ing. It was with the greatest difficulty 
 that a sufficient number of men coul.l be 
 found in a condition fit to perform the 
 
GOO 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [FATCT n. 
 
 ordinary routine of camp-duty ; and men 
 able-bodied but naked, were often obliged, 
 when ordered out, to borrow clothes from 
 those who happened to have any. One 
 of the foreign officers, while walking with 
 Washington through the encampment, 
 looked with such alarm upon the miser 
 able soldiers (as their famished frames, 
 scantily covered with a dirty blanket, 
 slunk in the wintry air from hut to hut), 
 and heard with such dismay, through the 
 open crevices between the logs of their 
 wretched dwellings, the woful cry, " No 
 pay, no clothes, no provisions, no rum!" 
 that he despaired of the independence of 
 the country. 
 
 u The unfortunate soldiers," declared 
 Lafayette, " were in want of everything ; 
 they had neither coats nor hats, shirts 
 nor shoes. Their feet and legs froze till 
 the>/ became black, and it ivas often necessary 
 to amputate them. From want of money, 
 the officers could obtain neither provis 
 ions nor any means of transport ; the colo 
 nels were often reduced to two rations, 
 and sometimes even to one. The army 
 frequently remained a whole day without 
 any provisions whatever!" 
 
 Washington now found himself encum 
 bered with a great mass of starving men, 
 so weakened by famine and pinched by 
 the winter s cold, that they were capable 
 of little beyond that last effort of nature, 
 crying for a supply of the necessities for 
 its existence. Ever on the alert for the 
 performance of his duty as a military com 
 mander, Washington, hearing of a move 
 ment of the British, would have sent out 
 a force to check it. He according;! v or- 
 
 O J 
 
 dered some of his- troops to be ready to 
 
 march : when from General Huntininlon, 
 
 O 
 
 who commanded one division, came a let 
 ter, saying : " I received an order to hold 
 my brigade in readiness to march. Fight 
 ing will be far preferable to starving. My 
 brigade are out of provisions, nor can the 
 commissary obtain any meat. I am ex 
 ceedingly unhappy in being the bearer 
 of complaints to headquarters. I have 
 used every argument my imagination can 
 invent to make the soldiers easy, but I 
 despair of being able to do it much long 
 er." 
 
 From General Varnum, too, came a let 
 ter. " According to the saying of Solo 
 mon," wrote the general, " hunger will 
 break through a stone-wall. It is there 
 fore a very pleasing circumstance to the 
 division under my command, that there 
 is a probability of their marching. Three 
 days successively we have been destitute 
 of bread ; two days we have been entire 
 ly without meat. The men must be sup 
 plied, or they can not be commanded. 
 The complaints are too urgent to pass un 
 noticed. It is with pain that I mention 
 this distress. I know it will make your 
 excellency unhappy ; but, if you expect 
 the exertion of virtuous principles, while 
 your troops are deprived of the necessa 
 ries of life, your final disappointment will 
 be great in proportion to the patience 
 which now astonishes every man of hu 
 man feeling." 
 
 Washington, always trustful in the ho 
 liness of his cause, never despaired of its 
 ultimate triumph. We can readily be 
 lieve that, in these times of trial, with the 
 piety which never forsook him in adver- 
 ,sitv or prosperity, he often on his knees 
 
 ^ 1 1 / / 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] WASHINGTON REBUKES THE INTERMEDDLERS. 
 
 601 
 
 implored in prayer the mercy of God up 
 on his suffering troops. It is recorded by 
 a contemporary witness that, on one oc 
 casion, while .strolling along the stream 
 which flowed through the bottom of the 
 valley, he heard a voice, as of one in sup 
 plication and prayer, coining out of a se 
 cluded spot. On approaching the place, 
 Washington s horse was found tied near 
 by. The intruder immediately turned his 
 steps homeward ; and, as he told his wife 
 what he had seen, he said, with a burst 
 of tears, " If there is any one on this earth 
 whom the Lord will listen to, it is George 
 Washington."* 
 
 The commander-in-chief would, howev 
 er, have been more or less than human, 
 if his patience had not been disturbed by 
 the officious intermeddling of the Penn 
 sylvania legislature with his plans, and 
 its censorious strictures in a " Remon 
 strance" against his conduct. " We find 
 gentlemen," said Washington, " without 
 knowing whether the army was really 
 going into winter-quarters or not (for I 
 am sure no resolution of mine would war 
 rant the remonstrance), reprobating the 
 measure as much as if they thought the 
 soldiers were made of stocks or stones, 
 and equally insensible of frost and snow ; 
 and moreover, as if they conceived it ea 
 sily practicable for an inferior army, un 
 der the disadvantages I have described 
 ours to be, which are by no means exag 
 gerated, to confine a superior one, in all 
 respects well appointed and provided for 
 a winter s campaign, within the city of 
 Philadelphia, and to cover from depreda 
 tion and waste the states of Pennsylvania 
 
 *L<: 
 
 and Jersey. But what makes this matter 
 still more extraordinary in my eyes is, 
 that these very gentlemen who were 
 well apprized of the nakedness of the 
 troops from ocular demonstration, who 
 thought their own soldiers worse clad 
 than others, and who advised me near a 
 month ago to postpone the execution of 
 a plan I was about to adopt, in conse 
 quence of a resolve of Congress for seiz 
 ing clothes, under strong assurances that 
 an ample supply would be collected in 
 ten days agreeably to a decree of the 
 state (not one article of which, by-the-by, 
 is yet come to hand) should think a 
 winter s campaign, and the covering of 
 these states from the invasion of an ene 
 my, so easy and practicable a business !" 
 
 Washington then proceeds to rebuke 
 these interrneddlers of Pennsylvania with 
 a warmth of feeling excited not only by 
 their reckless disregard of the sufferings 
 of his troops, but by his own humane 
 sympathy with them : "I can assure these 
 gentlemen," he wrote, " that it is a much 
 easier and less distressing thing to draw 
 remonstrances in a comfortable room, by 
 a good fireside, than to occupy a cold, 
 bleak hill, and sleep under frost and snow, 
 without clothes or blankets. However, 
 although they seem to have little feeling 
 for the naked and distressed soldiers, I 
 feel superabundantly for them, and from 
 my soul I pity those miseries which it is 
 neither in my power to relieve nor to 
 prevent." 
 
 That the army, in the state of destitu 
 tion and suffering in which it was, should 
 occasionally break out in mutinous com 
 plaints, and refuse to do duty, was niitii- 
 
 76 
 
C02 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 1778, 
 
 Feb. 12, 
 
 rally to be expected. The long for 
 bearance of his soldiers surprised 
 Washington himself, and won from him 
 a grateful tribute to their patient endu 
 rance. " Naked and starving as they are," 
 he said, " we can not enough admire the 
 incomparable patience and fidel 
 ity of the soldiery, that they have 
 not been, ere this, excited by their suf 
 ferings to a general mutiny and deser 
 tion." 
 
 In order to make up for the deficien 
 cies of its ill-managed commissariat, Con 
 gress authorized Washington to resort to 
 the desperate expedient of exacting sup 
 plies from the people by force. Wash 
 ington unwillingly consented to avail him 
 self of this legal authority, in the pressing 
 necessities of his army, but declared that 
 it would never do to procure supplies of 
 clothing or provisions by coercive meas 
 ures. " Such procedures," he emphatic 
 ally adds, " may give a momentary relief; 
 but, if repeated, will prove of the most 
 pernicious consequence. Besides spread 
 ing disaffection, jealousy, and fear, among 
 the people, they never fail, even in the 
 most veteran troops, under the most rigid 
 and exact discipline, to raise in the sol 
 diery a disposition to licentiousness, to 
 plunder and robbery, difficult to suppress 
 afterward, and which has proved not on 
 ly ruinous to the inhabitants, but, in many 
 instances, to armies themselves. I regret 
 the occasion that compelled to the meas 
 ure the other day, and shall consider it 
 among the greatest of our misfortunes if 
 we should be under the necessity of prac 
 tising it again." 
 
 Was there ever a leader of armies who 
 
 1778, 
 
 thus spoke and acted like a brother-man 
 and fellow-citizen ? When this reserve in 
 regard to private property was observed, 
 too, in a country hostile to American in 
 terests, how much greater appears Wash 
 ington s honorable fastidiousness ! When, 
 in order to save his men from absolute 
 famine, he reluctantly exercised the pow- 
 er conferred upon him by Congress, the 
 inhabitants resisted his authority even 
 unto arms. Washington issued a procla 
 mation, in which he required all the farm 
 ers within seventy miles of Valley Forge 
 to thrash out one half of their grain 
 by the first of February, and the 
 other half by the first of March, under the 
 penalty of having the whole seized as 
 straw. Many of the disaffected Pennsyl- 
 vanians, who abounded in that quarter, 
 refused to comply with the requisition ; 
 and when troops were sent out for sup 
 plies, and a fair price offered for them, 
 the farmers defended their grain and cat 
 tle with violence, and in some instances 
 burned what they could not protect, so 
 resolutely hostile were they to the Amer 
 ican cause. 
 
 Without the necessities of life, man and 
 beast soon began to sicken. The horses 
 died for want of forage ; and the poor, 
 famishing soldiers were forced to yoke 
 themselves to wagons and sledges, to bring 
 in what fuel and scanty stores could oc 
 casionally be obtained. There was as yet 
 no improvement in the commissary de 
 partment. The suffering army was con^ 
 stantly being tantalized with accounts 
 from all quarters of the prodigious quan 
 tity of clothing which was purchased and 
 forwarded for their use, while little or 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] AMERICANS STARVING BRITISH LUXURIATING. 
 
 603 
 
 none reached them, or that little so badly 
 sorted as to be totally useless. The poor 
 soldier had a pair of stockings given him 
 without shoes, or a waistcoat without a 
 coat or blanket to his back. The little 
 man had a large pair of trousers, and the 
 large one, like the big boy in the Cyro- 
 pcvdia, a small coat; so that none were 
 benefited. " Perhaps by midsummer," said 
 
 Jl / 
 
 Washington, with bitter irony, " he [the 
 soldier] may receive thick stockings,shoes, 
 and blankets, which he will contrive to 
 get rid of in the most expeditious man 
 ner. In tli is way, by an eternal round 
 of the most stupid management, the pub 
 lic treasure is expended to no kind of 
 purpose, while the men have been left to 
 perish by inches with cold and naked 
 ness !" 
 
 A putrid camp-fever was the natural 
 consequence of this terrible destitution 
 
 Feb. 12, 
 
 of all the necessities of life ; and so many 
 sickened, while such numbers deserted 
 daily, that the army was thought to be 
 in danger of dissolution. 
 
 "The situation of the camp," wrote 
 General Varnum to General Greene, "is 
 such, that, in all human proba 
 bility, the army must soon dis 
 solve. Many of the troops are destitute 
 of meat, and are several days in arrear. 
 The horses are dying for want of forage. 
 The country in the vicinity of the camp 
 is exhausted. There can not be a moral 
 certainty of bettering our circumstances 
 while we continue here. What conse 
 quences have we actually to expect? 
 Our desertions are astonishingly great; 
 the love of freedom, which once animated 
 the breasts of those born in the country, 
 is controlled by hunger, the keenest of 
 necessities." 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 The British revelling in Philadelphia. Plenty of Money. Plenty of Friends. Gold versus Paper. Six Hundred Dol 
 lars for a Pair of Boots. The British waxing fat. Luxury and Dissipation. Loyally drunk. The Effect. The 
 Profligates among the Quakers. " A Housekeeper wanted." Gambling. Run of 111 Luck. Penniless Officers. A 
 Jolly Parson. General Howe in "High Jinks." May Pemberton s Coach and Horses. Old Men wag their Heads. 
 Admiral Lord Howe in Philadelphia. British and Hessian Generals. Major Andre in Franklin s House. A Com 
 plimentary Theft. Deserters from the American Camp. Their Talc of Misery. The Sock and Buskin. British 
 Officers turned Players. The Mischianza. The Pageant described. Regatta. The Tournament. Fair Ladies and 
 Brave Knights. The Queen of Beauty. Ball and Banquet. The Victorious Miss Franks. A Single and Signal 
 Defeat. 
 
 1778, 
 
 FROM the starving camp of Wash 
 ington at Valley Forge we turn to 
 the winter-quarters of the British army 
 at Philadelphia, where Sir William Howe, 
 his officers, and men, were revelling in 
 
 the midst of abundance. Provisions were, 
 indeed, scarce and dear, and many of the 
 inhabitants were obliged to curtail the 
 luxuries if not the necessities of life ; but 
 the army-chest, being always kept well 
 
604 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 replenished by the prodigal mother-coun 
 try, the British troops enjoyed both. The 
 inhabitants of the surrounding country 
 were inclined in favor of the royal inter 
 ests, and particularly well disposed tow 
 ard their own. They preferred selling 
 their hay, corn, and cattle, to General 
 Howe, not only because he was apparent 
 ly in the ascendant, but because he could 
 pay in sterling gold for what Washing 
 ton was only enabled to give them in ex 
 change the almost valueless continental 
 money. When an American commissary 
 presented himself with his worthless pa 
 per, the farmer, with his rusty musket to 
 his shoulder, resolutely fought for each 
 grain of his harvest and starveling of his 
 flock, and yielded neither until forced to 
 comply ; while barns were readily emp 
 tied out, and whole herds driven forth, 
 at the demand of the British agents, sup 
 plied with gold. 
 
 Congress might issue its millions of bits 
 of paper, and call each a dollar ; but when 
 half a thousand could be readily bought 
 for two golden guineas, it was natural 
 that the trader, whatever might be his 
 love for political freedom, should prefer 
 to pocket the latter, even with its insult 
 ing impress of the hated King George, to 
 taking the former with all its eloquent 
 flourishes of liberty and independence. 
 Thus, a man with a guinea in his pocket 
 was often a more welcome customer than 
 he who had hundreds of continental dol 
 lars; and, while the one could purchase 
 a pair of boots, the other was forced to 
 go barefoot. Six: hundred dollars in con 
 tinental currency were not seldom paid 
 for a single pair of boots, and a skein of 
 
 silk was thought cheap at ten dollars of 
 the depreciated currency ! 
 
 Waxing fat with the abundance and in 
 the indolence of their winter encamp 
 ment, the British yielded themselves up to 
 luxury and dissipation. Their own his 
 torians have declared that they reversed 
 the standing maxim of Marshal Turenne, 
 and seemed to think the more drinking, 
 gaming, and licentiousness, in a, garrison, 
 the better.* The whole winter of 1777- 
 78 was spent in indolence, or in dissipa 
 tion and revelry. Every regimental mess 
 was a scene of nightly orgies. When op 
 portunity offered, the men, whether on 
 or off duty, got most loyally drunk. 
 
 A want of discipline and proper sub 
 ordination pervaded the whole British 
 force ; and if famine and sickness thinned 
 the American army encamped at Valley 
 Forge, abundance and indulgence perhaps 
 did no less injury to the British troops. 
 During the winter, a very unfortunate in 
 attention was shown to the feelings of the 
 inhabitants. They experienced many of 
 the horrors of civil war. Some of the 
 leading inhabitants, and many of these, 
 too, of the orderly sect of Quakers, were 
 forced to quarter reckless young officers, 
 who were even indecent enough to intro 
 duce their mistresses into the mansions 
 of their compulsory hosts.f A pair of 
 youthful profligates had the audacity to 
 advertise in the public journal : " Wanted 
 to hire with two single gentlemen, a young 
 woman to act in the capacity of house 
 keeper, and who can occasionally put her 
 hand to anything. Extravagant wages 
 will be given, and no character required. 
 
 * Pictorial History of England. t Steclman. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] GENERAL HOWE S "HIGH JINKS." MAJOR ANDRE. 
 
 605 
 
 Any young woman who chooses to oiler, 
 may be further informed at the bar of 
 the City Tavern."* 
 
 Gaming of every species was permit 
 ted, and even sanctioned. This vice not 
 only debauched the mind, but, by seden- 
 taiy confinement and the want of season 
 able repose, enervated the body. A for 
 eign officer held the bank at the game 
 of faro, by which he made a very consid 
 erable fortune; and but too many respect 
 able families in Britain had to lament its 
 baneful effects. Officers who might have 
 rendered honorable service to their coun 
 try were compelled, by what was termed 
 a " a bad run of luck," to dispose of their 
 commissions, and return penniless to their 
 friends.f 
 
 It is some satisfaction to find that these 
 graceless fellows "very frequently attend 
 ed different places of worship," although 
 " Friends meetinghouses were not much 
 to their tastes." J They naturally pre 
 ferred to attend the service of their own 
 chaplains, who seemed to be on very ex 
 cellent terms with their reprobate listen 
 ers. A "jolly parson Badger," who was 
 billeted with a demure Quaker, was in 
 the habit, after parades, of bringing a set 
 of rollicking young officers into his "front 
 room up-stairs," who rather disturbed the 
 staid propriety of the small, quiet house 
 hold of his broad-brimmed host. 
 
 General Howe himself also kept such 
 " high jinks," that he scandalized the older 
 officers, although he only grew more pop 
 ular with the younger ones. He took 
 possession of one of the finest houses in 
 
 * Watson s Annals of Philadelphia 
 
 t Stx dmun. J Watson. 
 
 town, in High street, afterward occupied 
 by General Washington, and drove about 
 with " May Pemberton s coach and horses," 
 which he had seized and kept for his own 
 use. His conduct was so free, with a set 
 of jolly young officers, that some of the 
 veterans shook their heads, and declared 
 that, before his promotion to the chief 
 command of the army, he always sought 
 for the company and counsels of officers 
 of experience and merit ; while now his 
 companions were usually mere boys and 
 the most dissipated fellows in the whole 
 army* 
 
 His brother, Admiral Lord Howe, be 
 haved himself with more sobriety of de 
 meanor. Having moved his fleet to the 
 city, he too now resided in Philadelphia, 
 taking possession of an imposing mansion 
 in Chestnut street. Earl Cornwallis and 
 General Knyphausen were also lodged in 
 accordance with their dignity ; and Major 
 Andre dwelt in Doctor Franklin s house, 
 which had been vacated by his daughter, 
 Mrs. Bache, on the entrance of the British 
 into Philadelphia. Andre seems to have 
 conducted himself generally with a prop 
 er regard to the rights of the owner of 
 the dwelling; for Mrs. Bache, in writing 
 afterward to her father, in Paris, confesses 
 that she found the house and furniture 
 upon her return in better order than she 
 had reason to expect from "such a rapa 
 cious crew." The major, however, carried 
 off the renowned philosopher s portrait; 
 but, as the theft is presumed to have been 
 intended as a compliment to the scientific 
 attainments of the great original, it may 
 be ranked among the pardonable sins. 
 
 * Waison. 
 
606 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Franklin, though his own house, with 
 his pet books, his ingenious mechanical 
 toys, and his scientific apparatus, was ex 
 posed to the rude handling of a vandal 
 enemy, received the news of the posses 
 sion of the city by the British with won 
 derful equanimity. " General Howe," he 
 said, "has not taken Philadelphia : Phila 
 delphia has taken General Howe!" And the 
 luxury and wantonness which demoral 
 ized both officers and soldiers, while in 
 winter-quarters in that city, con firmed the 
 shrewd remark of the philosopher. 
 
 Thus the winter passed in all gnyety 
 in the city of Philadelphia, while it was 
 all gloom on the rugged hills of Valley 
 Forge. In the British camp there was no 
 reminder of the possibility of suffering 
 and misery, except when some hungry, 
 barefooted, half-naked deserter, covered 
 only by a dirty blanket bound around his 
 lean loins with a leathern belt, stole away 
 from the famishing camp of Washington, 
 and fled to the well-fed ranks of the ene 
 my. These poor wretches gave a doleful 
 account of the sufferings of the Ameri 
 cans, of which they themselves were the 
 most expressive illustrations ; and yet the 
 British commander, much to the vexation 
 of some of his more martial associates, 
 never moved from his comfortable quar 
 ters to strike the blow against the Ameri 
 can army in its distress which they be 
 lieved would have crushed it at once, and 
 thus paved the way to a speedy subjec 
 tion of the whole country to the royal 
 authority. "Had General Howe," said 
 one, led on his troops to action, victory 
 was in his power and conquest in his 
 train." In this dark hour of the Ameri 
 
 can Revolution, it was perhaps fortunate 
 for the safety of Washington s army, if 
 not for the ultimate triumph of liberty 
 itself, that the chief command of the Brit 
 ish forces devolved upon the indolent and 
 procrastinating Howe instead of the active 
 Cornwallis or the vigilant and energetic 
 Clinton. 
 
 Every one in the British camp, howev 
 er, was now absorbed in the pursuit of 
 pleasure. The officers no longer troubled 
 themselves about winning or losing bat 
 tles : they were far more intent upon the 
 chances of the faro-table. They cared not 
 to have the roar of the cannon thundered 
 in their ears, while they could listen to 
 the voluptuous tunings of the.sweet voices 
 of the " tory ladies" of Philadelphia. The 
 glory and real tragedies of the battle-field 
 were gladly exchanged for the mock he 
 roics and the melodramatic horrors of the 
 stage. As an officer of the army presided 
 over the gaming-table, so British colonels, 
 majors, captains, lieutenants, and ensigns, 
 turned players, and got up theatrical per 
 formances. They enacted tragedy, and 
 comedy, and pantomime ; and won more 
 decided triumphs on the stage than they 
 had ever hoped for on the field of battle. 
 Major Andre, with his ready accomplish 
 ments with the pen and the pencil, was 
 in great requisition. He wrote farces, 
 and painted scenes. His " waterfall " drop- 
 curtain was a masterpiece of theatrical art, 
 and hung in the Southwarlcihcalrc, c <\i\\\\- 
 adelphia, long after the unfortunate mili 
 tary artist ceased to live. The New-York 
 loyalist captain, Delancey, was one of An 
 dre s most active coadjutors in the dra 
 matic department. In the grand balls. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] GENERAL HOWE RESIGNS. THE " MISCIIIANZA." 
 
 G07 
 
 as in all the gayeties of the season, these 
 two officers shone also as chief masters 
 of ceremonies. 
 
 The revels of the British army reached 
 their climax in the ever-memorable Mis- 
 cliianza. This, as its Italian name indi 
 cates, was a "medley" entertainment. We 
 must, however, somewhat anticipate the 
 progress of events, in order to understand 
 the occasion of this splendid folly. The 
 British government., having become dis 
 satisfied with Sir William Howe s conduct 
 of the campaign, was free in its censures. 
 The general was no less ready to justify 
 himself, declaring that his plans had been 
 thwarted by the obstructions thrown in 
 his way by the ministry. They both con 
 tinued to indulge in mutual recrimina 
 tion, until finally Sir William resigned his 
 command. His resignation was accepted, 
 and the general was about departing for 
 England, when his officers, with whom he 
 was a great favorite from the suavity of 
 his manners (and probably also from his 
 too lax discipline), determined to express 
 their regard for him by getting up the 
 Mischiama in his honor. 
 
 The entertainment took place on the 
 18th of May, 1778, and consisted of two 
 principal parts a regatta on the water, 
 and a tournament on laud. For the ex 
 penses of the occasion, all the army would 
 have joyfully contributed, as Sir William 
 was a universal favorite ; but it was final 
 ly agreed that they should be defrayed 
 by twenty- two field-officers. Sir John 
 Wrottlesey, Colonel O Hara, Major Gar 
 diner, and Montressor, the chief-engineer, 
 were the managers appointed. Major An 
 dre, however, who wrote a glowing ac 
 
 count of all the glories of the occasion, 
 might have said, " Quorum magnapars sui;" 
 for he, together with his dramatic coad 
 jutor Delancey, bore a prominent part 
 in the preparations and celebration of the 
 Mischianza. He painted the scenery, sug 
 gested the decorations, and planned the 
 pageant. 
 
 The very cards of invitation, in their 
 preliminary display, gave promise of the 
 brilliancy of the coming show. These 
 were as large as playing-cards, and upon 
 them was engraved in a shield a view of 
 the sea, with the setting sun, Sir William 
 Howe s crest and motto, "Vive vale!" and 
 the complimentary words, "Lncco discc- 
 dens, aucto splcndore rcsuryam : I SHINE EVEN 
 
 WHILE SETTING, AND SHALL ARISE WITH IN 
 CREASED SPLENDOR!" alluding to the gen 
 eral s popularity at his departure, and 
 prophesying his future glory. Around 
 the shield was a wreath of laurel; while 
 such military insignia as flags, swords, can 
 non, and field-batons, completed the pic 
 ture. 
 
 A grand regatta began the entertain 
 ment. It consisted of three divisions. In 
 the first was the Ferret galley, with Sir 
 William and Lord Howe, Sir Henry Clin 
 ton (who had arrived from New York as 
 Howe s successor in the command), the 
 officers of their suites., and some ladies. 
 The Cornwallis galley brought up the 
 rear, having on board the earl himself, 
 General Knyphausen and his suite, three 
 British generals, and a party of ladies. 
 On each quarter of these galleys, and 
 forming their division, were five flat-boats, 
 lined with green cloth, and filled with ia- 
 dies and gentlemen. In advance of the 
 
008 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAT?T 11. 
 
 whole were three flat-boats, with a band 
 of music in each. Six barges rowed about 
 each flank, to keep off the swarm of boats 
 that covered the Delaware from side to 
 side. The galleys were dressed out in a 
 variety of colors and streamers, and in 
 each Hat-boat was displayed the flag of 
 its own division. 
 
 In the stream, opposite the centre of 
 the city, the armed ship Fanny, magnifi 
 cently decorated, was placed at anchor ; 
 and at some distance ahead lay his maj 
 esty s frigate Roebuck, with the admiral s 
 Hag hoisted at the fore-topmast head. The 
 transport-ships, extending in a line, the 
 whole length of the town, appeared with 
 colors Hying, and crowded with specta 
 tors, as were also the opening of the sev 
 eral wharves on shore, exhibiting the 
 
 O 
 
 most picturesque and enlivening scene 
 which the eye could desire to look upon. 
 The rendezvous appointed for the whole 
 was at Knight s wharf, at the northern 
 extremity of the city. 
 
 By half-past four o clock in the 
 morning the whole company was 
 embarked, and the signal being made by 
 the ship-of-war Vigilant, the three divis 
 ions rowed slowly down, preserving their 
 proper intervals of distance, and keeping 
 time to the music, which led the fleet. 
 Arrived between the Fanny and the Mar 
 ket wharf, a signal was made from one 
 of the boats ahead, and the whole lay 
 upon their oars, while the bands played 
 God save the King!" and three cheers giv 
 en from the vessels were returned from 
 the multitude on shore. By this time the 
 Hood-tide became too rapid for the gal 
 leys to advance ; they were therefore 
 
 May 18, 
 
 quitted, and the company disposed of in 
 different barges. 
 
 The landing-place was at the old fort, 
 near the present navy-yard, a little to the 
 southward of the town, before Wharton s 
 mansion, from which a broad greensward, 
 lined with rows of tall trees, stretched in 
 a gentle descent for four hundred yards 
 down to the water-side. As soon as the 
 general s barge was seen to push from the 
 shore, a salute of seventeen guns was fired 
 from the Roebuck, which was followed. 
 after a short interval, by the same num 
 ber from the Vigilant. The company, as 
 the} disembarked, arranged themselves in 
 a line of procession, and advanced through 
 an avenue formed by two files of grena 
 diers, and a line of light-horse supporting 
 each file. The avenue led to a square 
 lawn of one hundred and fifty yards on 
 each side, lined with troops, and properly 
 prepared for the exhibition of a tilt and 
 tournament, accord ing to the customs and 
 ordinances of ancient chivalry. The pro 
 cession marched through the centre of 
 the square. The music, consisting of all 
 the bands of the army, moved in front. 
 The managers, with favors of blue and 
 white ribbons on their breasts, followed 
 next in order. The general, the admiral, 
 and the rest of the company, proceeded 
 promiscuously. 
 
 In front appeared Wharton s large and 
 elegant mansion, which bounded the view 
 through a vista, formed by two triumphal 
 arches erected at proper intervals in a 
 line with the landing-place. Two pavil 
 ions, with rows of benches rising one 
 
 / O 
 
 above another, and serving as the " ad 
 vanced wings" (as Andre, in his militarv 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE GRAND TOURNAMENT. 
 
 phrase, describes them) of the first tri 
 umphal arch, received the ladies; while 
 the gentlemen arranged themselves in 
 convenient order on each side. On the 
 front seat of each pavilion were placed 
 seven of the principal young ladies of the 
 country, dressed in Turkish habits, and 
 wearing in their turbans the favors with 
 which they designed to reward the sev 
 eral knights who were to contend in their 
 honor. 
 
 These arrangements were hardly com 
 pleted, when the sound of trumpets was 
 heard at a distance ; and soon a band of 
 knights, dressed in ancient habits of white 
 and red silk, and mounted on noble gray 
 horses, richly caparisoned in trappings of 
 the same colors, entered the lists, attend 
 ed by their esquires on foot, in suitable 
 apparel, in the following order: four trum 
 peters, properly habited, their trumpets 
 decorated with small pendent banners ; a 
 herald, in his robe of ceremony, with a 
 device of his band on it, consisting of two 
 w r hite roses intertwined, with the motto, 
 " We drop when separated! Lord Cathcart, 
 mounted on a superb horse led by grooms, 
 appeared as chief of these knights. Two 
 young black slaves, with sashes and draw 
 ers of blue and white silk, wearing large 
 silver clasps round their necks and arms, 
 their breasts and shoulders bare, held his 
 stirrups. On his right and left walked 
 his two esquires, one bearing his lance 
 and the other his shield, upon which was 
 the device of Cupid riding a lion, with 
 the motto, " Surmounted />// Love" His lord 
 ship appeared in honor of Miss Auchmuty. 
 Then followed his six knights, each splen 
 didly accoutred and mounted, accompa- 
 77 
 
 nied by his esquire bearing his shield, and 
 prepared to d o service for his "lady e love." 
 Among these " KNIGHTS OF THE BLENDED 
 ROSE" appeared Andre himself, then hold 
 ing the rank of captain, with his youth 
 ful brother, only nineteen years of age, a 
 lieutenant in the army. 
 
 After the knights had rode up and 
 made the circuit of the square, they sa 
 luted the ladies as they passed before the 
 pavilions, and then ranged themselves in 
 a line with the seat of the dames of the 
 "Blended Rose," whose pre-eminent beau 
 ty, wit, and accomplishments, they were 
 prepared to prove by their arms, as their 
 herald declared, against all who should 
 dare to deny them. Three times the chal 
 lenge was sounded. At the third, a her 
 ald, with four trumpeters, dressed in black 
 and orange, galloped into the lists. He 
 was met by the herald of the " Blended 
 Rose," and, after a brief parley, he of the 
 " KNIGHTS OF THE BURNING MOUNTAIN" loud 
 ly sounded his trumpet, and proclaimed 
 defiance to the challenge, declaring that 
 the knights of the "Burning Mountain" 
 came to disprove by deeds, and not by 
 words, the vainglorious assertions of the 
 knights of the " Blended Rose." 
 
 The knights of the " Burning Mount 
 ain" now rode in, headed by their chief. 
 Each had his squire, shield, and device, 
 and was ready to do service for his espe 
 cial dame. They, having made the cir 
 cuit of the lists, and their obeisance to 
 all the ladies, reined up their horses defi 
 antly in front of the knights of the "Blend 
 ed Rose." The chief of the latter then 
 threw down his gauntlet, which \vas or 
 dered to be taken up by the esquire of 
 
610 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 the chief of the "Burning Mountain." 
 Each knight now took his lance and shield 
 from his esquire ; and the two opposing 
 bands, after making a general salute to 
 each other by a graceful movement of 
 their lances, turned to take their career, 
 and, encountering in full gallop, shivered 
 their spears. In the second and third en 
 counters they discharged their pistols. In 
 the fourth they fought with their swords. 
 At length the two chiefs, spurring for 
 ward into the centre, engaged furiously 
 in single combat, till the marshal of the 
 field rushed in between the champions, 
 and declared that the fair damsels of the 
 "Blended Rose" and "Burning Mount- 
 were perfectly satisfied with the 
 
 am 
 
 proofs of love and the signal feats of val 
 or given by their respective knights, and 
 commanded them, as they prized the fu 
 ture favors of their mistresses, that they 
 would instantly desist from further com 
 bat. Obedience being paid to this order, 
 the chiefs joined their respective array 
 of knights. 
 
 A passage being now opened between 
 the two pavilions, the knights, preceded 
 by their squires a.nd the bands of music, 
 rode through the first triumphal arch, 
 and arrayed themselves to the right and 
 left. This arch was erected in honor of 
 Lord Howe. It presented two fronts, in 
 the Tuscan order. The pediment was 
 adorned with various naval trophies, and 
 at the top was the figure of Neptune, with 
 a trident in his right hand. In a niche 
 on each side stood a sailor with a drawn 
 cutlass. Three plumes of feathers were 
 placed on the summit of each wing, and 
 in the entablature was a Latin inscription, 
 
 saying that praise was his due, but that 
 his soul was above praise. From this 
 arch led an avenue three hundred feet 
 long and thirty-four broad, lined on each 
 side with troops; while beyond all the 
 colors of the army were planted at prop 
 er intervals, between which the knights 
 and squires took their stations. The bands 
 struck up a succession of martial tunes, 
 and the procession then moved forward. 
 The ladies, in their Turkish habits, led 
 the way ; and, as they passed, they were 
 saluted by the knights, who dismounted 
 and joined them. Thus the whole com 
 pany passed through a second triumphal 
 arch into the garden which fronted the 
 " Wharton mansion." 
 
 The second arch, like the first, was of 
 the Tuscan order, and was dedicated to 
 Sir William Howe. On the interior part 
 of the pediment was painted a plume of 
 feathers, and various military trophies. 
 At the top stood the figure of Fame, and 
 in the entablature was this Latin inscrip 
 tion : "_Z, boiio, quo virtus tua te vocat ; I pcde 
 famto : Go, GOOD ONE, WHERE THY VIRTUE 
 
 SHALL CALL THEE ; MAY PROSPERITY ATTEND 
 
 THY STEPS !" On the right-hand pillar was 
 placed a bomb, and on the left a flaming 
 heart. The front of the arch next to the 
 house Avas covered with fireworks, ar 
 ranged in ornamental forms, ready to be 
 fired in the course of the night. 
 
 From the garden a flight of steps cov 
 ered with carpet led to a spacious hall, 
 which was adorned with panelling paint 
 ed in imitation of Sienna marble, cleverly 
 executed by Captain Andre himself, who 
 had transferred his brush from the canvas 
 of the theatre to the walls of the Whar- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE BALL AND THE BANQUET. 
 
 611 
 
 ton house for this grand occasion. In the 
 hall and in the adjoining apartments were 
 prepared ten, lemonade, and other cooling 
 drinks, to which the company seated them 
 selves according to the comfortable prac 
 tice of those good old-fashioned times. 
 While they were thus regaling them 
 selves, the knights came in, and on bend 
 ed knees received their favors from their 
 respective ladies. 
 
 There was one apartment of the man 
 sion especially devoted to the most ab 
 sorbing interest of that time. Here was 
 the faro-table ; and, as if mocking at their 
 own vice, these reckless debauchees had 
 painted on a panel over the chimney, so 
 that it might be the first object seen on 
 entering the room, a cornucopia, filled to 
 overflowing with flowers of the richest 
 colors, while over the door of exit was 
 represented another, which was shrunk, 
 reversed, and emptied ! Thus was sym 
 bolized the doom of the gamester, who, en 
 tering; with abundance, was destined to 
 
 O ^ 
 
 go away empty from that fatal hall. 
 
 Above these lower apartments were 
 ball and refreshment rooms, illuminated 
 with hundreds of wax-lights, hung with 
 rose-colored dmpery, painted with grace 
 ful forms and rich devices, festooned with 
 wreaths of natural flowers, and all reflect 
 ed brilliantly from the numerous mirrors 
 on the walls. The ball was opened by 
 the knights and their ladies, and the dance 
 was kept up until ten o clock, when the 
 windows were thrown open on that warm 
 spring night, and a magnificent bouquet 
 of rockets began the display of fireworks, 
 which had been prepared under the su- 
 pei vision of Cap tain Montressor, the chief- 
 
 May 18, 
 
 engineer. As the rockets shot into the 
 air, and the fire-balloons burst into a blaze 
 of light, the interior of the triumphal arch 
 was illuminated. The military trophies 
 shone out resplendently in variegated col 
 ors ; and Fame appeared at the summit, 
 spangled with stars, and blowing from her 
 trumpet in letters of light, " Lcs lauricrs 
 sont immortels : His LAURELS ARE IMMORTAL." 
 
 At twelve o clock at night, sup 
 per was announced ; and large 
 folding-doors, until this moment artfully 
 hidden, were suddenly thrown open, dis 
 covering a magnificent saloon of two hun 
 dred and ten feet by forty, and twenty- 
 two feet in height, with three alcoves on 
 each side, which served as sideboards. The 
 ceiling was the segment of a circle ; and 
 the sides were painted of a light straw- 
 color, with vine-leaves and festoons of 
 flowers, some in a bright, some in a dark 
 ish green. Fifty-six large pier-glasses, or 
 namented with green-silk artificial flow 
 ers and ribbons ; one hundred branches, 
 with three lights in each, trimmed in the 
 same manner as the mirrors ; eighteen 
 lustres, each with twenty-four lights, sus 
 pended from the ceiling, and ornamented 
 as the branches; three hundred wax-ta 
 pers, disposed along the supper-tables; 
 four hundred and thirty covers; twelve 
 hundred dishes ; twenty-four black slaves 
 in oriental dresses, with silver collars and 
 bracelets, ranged in two lines, and bend 
 ing to the ground as the general and the 
 admiral approached the saloon, formed 
 together " the most brilliant assemblage 
 of gay objects, and appearing at once as 
 we entered by an easy descent," wrote 
 Captain Andre, in his glowing account of 
 
612 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT II. 
 
 the scene, " exhibited a coup d adl beyond 
 description magnificent." 
 
 Toward the close of the ban 
 quet, the herald of the " Blended 
 Rose," habited in his robes of ceremony, 
 and attended by his trumpeters, entered 
 the saloon, and proclaimed the health of 
 the king, the queen, and the royal fami 
 ly ; the army and the navy, with their re 
 spective commanders ; the knights and 
 their ladies; and the ladies in general 
 each of the toasts being followed by a 
 flourish of music. After supper ; the dan 
 cing was resumed, and was kept up until 
 four o clock the next morning. 
 
 The ladies present on the occasion were 
 all Americans, with the exception of Miss 
 Auchmuty, the subsequent bride of Cap 
 tain Montressor. They became memora 
 ble ever after as the " Mischianza ladies" 
 and a rigid patriotism frowned awhile up 
 on them, but it soon yielded to the smiles 
 of beauty ; and Americans, in their pro 
 verbial gallantry toward the other sex, 
 forgot all distinctions between "tory" and 
 " whig." Miss Shippen, one of the fairest 
 damsels of the Miwhianza, became after 
 ward the dashing bride of General Ar 
 nold. Miss Franks, rendered famous by 
 General Charles Lee s witty letter ad 
 dressed to her, was the reigning belle on 
 the occasion. She attracted all by the 
 
 blaze of her beauty, only to wither them 
 in the fire of her wit. " Give us Britons, 
 strike home / " shouted Sir Henry Clinton 
 to the musicians. "The commander-in- 
 chief has made a mistake," exclaimed Miss 
 Franks; he meant to say, Britons go 
 home!" 1 She is acknowledged to have 
 been beaten only once in those martial 
 days, in the war of words, which she was 
 ever ready to wage with whig or tory, 
 general or subaltern, and then by that 
 old campaigner, in the letter to which al 
 lusion has been made, and which she re 
 ceived with anger, a sure sign of defeat. 
 "Paine," observes Lossing, "in one of 
 the numbers of his paper called The Cri- 
 s/s, gfwe a laughable account of this farce" 
 (of the Mischianza). "Alluding to Gen 
 eral Howe, he says, t He bounces off, with 
 his bombs and burning hearts set upon 
 the pillars of his triumphant arch, which, 
 at the proper time of the show, burst out 
 with a shower of squibs and crackers, and 
 other fireworks, to the delight and amaze 
 ment of Miss Craig, Miss Chew, Miss Red 
 man, and all the other misses, dressed out 
 as the fair damsels of the Blended Rose, 
 and of the Burning Mountain, for this 
 farce of knight-errantry. * How strange 
 that such sensible men as these two com 
 manders were, should have consented to 
 receive such gross adulation !" 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE CONSPIRATORS AT WORK. CONWAY AND GATES. 613 
 
 CHAPTER LXVII. 
 
 Washington and his Slanderers. General Gates in Opposition. General Conway. Letter from Washington. Conway 
 made Inspector-General. The Anti-Washington Faction in the Ascendant. The Cabal. Intrigue. Exposure. 
 General Wilkinson. His Account of the Affair. Lord Stirling in his Cups. A Challenge. No Blood shed. Con- 
 way detected and exposed. His Resignation. His Duel with General Cadwallader. Atonement of a Dying Man. 
 An Immortality of Dishonor. Improvement at Valley Forge. Supplies. Arrival of Mrs. Washington. Visitors. 
 General Charles Lee exchanged. His Arrival in the American Camp. Ethan Allen. Lafayette appointed to com 
 mand an Expedition to Canada. The Marquis remains faithful to Washington. He is flattered in vain by the " Ca 
 bal." To Albany and back again. Baron Steuben. His Life and Character. He is appointed Inspector-General. 
 Anecdotes. The Baron s Services. 
 
 1778, 
 
 THERE were not only the trials of 
 the command of an army of fam 
 ishing soldiers, constantly on the verge 
 of mutiny, to which their crying wants 
 provoked and almost justified them in 
 yielding, to perplex the head and wound 
 the heart of Washington; he was now 
 tormented by the stings of scandal, and 
 harassed by the opposition of the factions 
 in the army and in Congress. The com- 
 mander-in-chief had long been conscious 
 that there were some who were disposed 
 to depreciate his military character, and 
 elevate their own at his expense. He 
 saw that General Gates, forgetful of his 
 old friendship, and though bound to him 
 by every tie of gratitude, had become dis 
 affected, and neglected no opportunity of 
 wounding his sensibilities and thwarting ! 
 his purposes. Gates was a vain man, and 
 his triumph at Saratoga, and the flatte 
 ries which followed, seem to have raised 
 him to such a giddy height in his own 
 esteem, that his head turned. After the 
 surrender of Burgoyne, ordinary courtesy 
 should have impelled General Gates to 
 write to Washington, but he was guilty 
 
 of the indignity of neglecting this obvi 
 ous duty. The commander-in-chief, with 
 conscious dignity, either left these marks 
 of disrespect and indications of opposition 
 unnoticed, or remarked upon them as the 
 usual accompaniments of high trust and 
 position. When, however, he discovered 
 that his enemies were seriously organi 
 zing into a party to overthrow him, and 
 to take the lead in the conduct of affairs, 
 he was resolved to check them, if not for 
 his own sake, yet for the sake of the cause 
 which he loved too much to expose to the 
 mercy of such guides. 
 
 The first notice which the general-in- 
 chief deigned to take of the intrigues of 
 his enemies, was this note from him to 
 General Conway : 
 
 " CAMI>, Nov. 16, 1777. 
 
 " SIR : A letter which I received last 
 night contained the following paragraph : 
 
 " In a letter from General Conway to 
 General Gates, he says, "Heaven has deter 
 mined to save your country, or a wca/c general 
 and bad counsellors ivould have ruined it." 
 " I am, sir, your humble servant, 
 
 "GEORGE WASHINGTON." 
 
614 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 Dec. 16. 
 
 General Conway, on the receipt of this, 
 without denying the words which were 
 attributed to him, strove immediately, by 
 letter, or an interview with the command- 
 er-in-chief, to explain them away 5 but the 
 result was so unsatisfactory, that, appa 
 rently in conscious guilt, he offered his 
 resignation. This was not accepted, and 
 in the course of a month, and near the 
 close of the year 1777, Conway 
 was appointed inspector-general 
 of the army, with the rank of major-gen 
 eral. The bitterest opponent of Wash 
 ington was thus elevated by Congress to 
 this high position even after his intrigues 
 against the commander-in-chief had be- 
 
 o 
 
 come known, and when Washington had 
 already (before he was aware of Conway s 
 personal attacks upon him) written these 
 words while the question was being agi 
 tated months before about such an ap 
 pointment: "It will be as unfortunate a 
 measure as ever was adopted ; I may add, 
 and I think with truth, that it will give a 
 fatal blow to the existence of the army." 
 The faction opposed to Washington, 
 however, was now in the ascendant in 
 Congress. A board of war was appoint 
 ed, in which those suspected of intrigues 
 against the commander-in-chief formed 
 the majority, and were the most promi 
 nent members. General Gates became 
 president ; General Mifflin, supposed to 
 be leagued with Gates and Conway in an 
 effort to supplant Washington, and place 
 one of the three in the chief command, 
 was a member; Timothy Pickering, late 
 adjutant-general, Joseph Trumbull, the 
 former commissary, and Richard Peters, 
 composed the rest of the new board. Si 
 
 multaneously with the creation of this 
 board, Conway received his appointment 
 as inspector-general, with the rank of 
 major-general, and was thus promoted 
 above all the brigadiers of older date ! 
 The army, by whom Washington was be 
 loved above all, became indignant, and the 
 officers and soldiers freely denounced the 
 faction which they did not hesitate to de 
 clare controlled the action of Congress, 
 to the injury of the great interests of the 
 country. But faction continued awhile 
 to govern that body, and some of its mem 
 bers strove by secret as w r ell as by open 
 means to accomplish their partisan ends. 
 Anonymous letters were written to the 
 governors of the states and to the officials 
 of Congress, to sound them and to gain 
 them over, by attacks upon the military 
 conduct of Washington and his favorite 
 officers, by laudatory accounts of the tri 
 umphs of Gates, and of the ability of that 
 general and his friends. 
 
 The letter of Washington to Conway, 
 however, brought the whole intrigue to 
 an issue ; and when the army and the 
 country showed their indignation at this 
 attempt to destroy the character of the 
 commander-in-chief, there was not one of 
 those suspected who was not anxious to 
 clear himself of all suspicion of being a 
 participator in the disreputable scheme. 
 On hearing of Washington s letter to Con- 
 way, General Gates at first seemed only 
 eager to discover the person who had be 
 trayed his confidence ; but when popular 
 indignation was excited, his subsequent 
 efforts, in the course of which he wrote 
 several prevaricating and contradictory 
 letters to Washington, were directed tow- 
 
RKVOLUTTONATIY.] 
 
 WILKINSON AND LORD STIRLING. 
 
 G15 
 
 ard explaining the offensive passage quo 
 ted, winch, having been repeated in the 
 course of conversation, may not have been 
 literally given, though it is now general 
 ly believed to have presented the spirit 
 of the original words. 
 
 Wilkinson, who was a heedless, loqua 
 cious youth, at that time, and much given 
 to vaunting his intimacy with the then 
 "great man" of the day (General Gates), 
 was the one to whom was traced the 
 abuse of confidence of which Gates so 
 strongly complained. It will be recollect 
 ed that Wilkinson was sent to Congress, 
 to present Gates s report of his triumph 
 at Saratoga. In the course of his jour 
 ney, his progress was so slow (whether 
 from a desire of prolonging the glory re 
 flected upon him by his message, or from 
 the mere distractions of pleasure natural 
 to youth), that when it was proposed in 
 Congress, upon his arrival, that a sword 
 should be voted him as the bearer of such 
 good news, Doctor Witherspoon, then a 
 member, shrewdly observed in his native 
 Scotch, " I think yc ll better gie the lad a pair 
 spurs /" While Wilkinson was leisurely 
 pursuing his way, big with the importance 
 of his commission, he put up at Reading, 
 in Pennsylvania. But we shall let him 
 tell his own story : 
 
 " I arrived," says Wilkinson, " the even 
 ing of the 27th [of October], and was vis 
 ited by General Mifflin, with whom I had 
 been acquainted at the siege of Boston. 
 He wished me to take tea with him, and 
 I found two eastern members of Congress 
 at his house. I was minutely questioned 
 by them respecting the military opera 
 tions in the North; General Washington s 
 
 misfortunes were strictured severely by 
 them, and General Conway s criticisms 
 again mentioned. General Mifflin ap 
 peared exceedingly despondent, and ob 
 served that he considered the insurance 
 of buildings at Eeading against the dep 
 redations of the enemy worthy reflection. 
 
 " This evening it began to rain, and the 
 next day it fell in torrents. Lord Stir 
 ling was confined at this village [Read 
 ing], in consequence of a fall from his 
 horse ; and being myself detained by the 
 weather, for I dared not ride in the rain, 
 I consented at his earnest request to take 
 a pot-luck dinner with him, and was hap 
 py to meet my friend Major Monroe (af 
 terward president), in capacity of aid-de 
 camp to his lordship. With a noble de 
 portment and dignified manners, Lord 
 Stirling combined sound education and 
 respectable talents. I speak of his foibles 
 with reluctance, for he was an officer of 
 conspicuous gallantry. His addictions 
 were notorious, and his fondness for a 
 long set not the least remarkable, for no 
 man could be more strongly disposed to 
 fight his battles over again. The earl 
 had another aid-de-camp, by the name of 
 M Williams, whom I had never seen be 
 fore. 
 
 " We dined agreeably, and I did not 
 get away from his lordship before mid 
 night, the rain continuing to pour down 
 without intermission. In the course of 
 the day, his lordship fought over the bat 
 tle of Long island in detail, and favored 
 me with recitals of all the affairs in which 
 he had subsequently performed a part; 
 and I reciprocated information of such 
 transactions in the North as could inter- 
 
GIG 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 est or amuse him. The conversation was 
 too copious and diffuse for me to have 
 charged my memory with particulars, and 
 from the circumstances of it was confi 
 dential." 
 
 His lordship, notwithstanding his "ad 
 dictions," did not seem on that occasion 
 to have poured down wine of sufficient 
 potency to steal away his brains ; for his 
 memory remained in such full possession, 
 that he distinctly recollected that Wilkin 
 son had said that General Gates had re 
 ceived a letter in which were these words, 
 Avritten by Gonway : " Heaven has deter 
 mined to save your country, or a weak 
 general and bad counsellors would have 
 ruined it," The earl immediately wrote 
 the words down, and sent them to Wash 
 ington, with his authority ; and the coin- 
 mander-in-chief, as we have seen, sent 
 them back to Conwa}^ and thus brought 
 the " Conway cabal" (as it has been called) 
 to light, and subsequent dishonor. 
 
 Wilkinson was provoked at being dis 
 covered as the cause of the excitement 
 which ensued, and being made the object 
 of the indignation of his patron, General 
 Gates. In the fretting of his youthful 
 spirit, he declared, " My lord shall bleed 
 for his conduct!" but he first determined 
 that the blood of Gates should flow, the 
 general having denounced him in strong 
 terms for his abuse of confidence. A chal 
 lenge was given and accepted, and the 
 preliminaries for the duello were all ar 
 ranged, when Wilkinson, according to his 
 own report of the occurrence, being fully 
 armed and accompanied by his seconds, 
 on proceeding to the ground, was called 
 aside by Captain Stoddert, and informed 
 
 that General Gates desired to speak with 
 him. 
 
 "I expressed my astonishment," says 
 Wilkinson, " and observed it was impos 
 sible. He replied, with much agitation : 
 1 For God s sake, be not always a fool ! 
 Come along, and see him ! Struck with 
 the manner of my friend,! inquired where 
 the general was. He answered, In the 
 street,near the door. The surprise robbed 
 me of circumspection. I requested Colo 
 nel Ball [his second] to halt, and followed 
 Captain Stoddert. I found General Gates 
 unarmed and alone, and was received with 
 tenderness but manifest embarrassment. 
 He asked me to walk, turned into a back 
 street, and we proceeded in silence till 
 we passed the buildings, when he burst 
 into tears, took me by the hand, and 
 asked me how I could think he wished 
 to injure me. I was too deeply affected 
 to speak, and he relieved my embarrass 
 ment by continuing : /injure you? It 
 is impossible ! I should as soon think of 
 injuring my own child. This language 
 not only disarmed me, but awakened all 
 my confidence and all my tenderness." 
 Wilkinson went away satisfied, but still 
 bent upon carrying out his bloody de 
 signs against Lord Stirling. 
 
 Wilkinson wrote a letter to his lord 
 ship, in which he did not pretend to deny 
 having quoted the words sent to Wash 
 ington, although in his explanations with 
 Gates he appeared to be entirely uncon 
 scious of having done so, but merely re 
 quired from Stirling a statement that the 
 conversation he had published "passed 
 in a private company during a convivial 
 hour." The earl could not refuse so rea- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] CONWAY S " CABAL." DUEL WITH CADWALLADER. 
 
 617 
 
 sonable a request, and readily certified to 
 the fact; which was so satisfactory, that 
 it not only proved a balm to the wound 
 of Wilkinson s nice sensibility, but a pre 
 ventive of the mischief threatening his 
 lordship. 
 
 General Conway was deemed the main 
 instigator of these disgraceful intrigues 
 against Washington ; and the country 
 soon began to discover, as the command- 
 er-in-chief had predicted, that he was u a 
 secret enemy, or, in other words, a dan 
 gerous incendiary." Sustained by a ma 
 jority in Congress, Conway enjoyed a 
 short triumph ; but, as he became inso 
 lent and overbearing in success, he soon 
 disgusted even those who had been his 
 warmest friends. Not satisfied with wri 
 ting letters to the commander-in-chief, 
 which the latter did not hesitate to term 
 " impertinent," demanding the command 
 of a division in the army, he ventured to 
 complain to Congress of ill treatment, 
 and to offer his resignation, in such terms 
 of contemptuous disrespect, that even his 
 friends did not oppose the vote that it 
 should be accepted. Conway himself was 
 sorely displeased at being taken at his 
 word, and afterward strove, by letter and 
 personal interview, to withdraw his resig 
 nation, but without effect. Without em 
 ployment, he still lingered in America, 
 venting his spleen upon Washington and 
 his army, when he was called to account 
 by G eneral Cad wallade r. A d tiel was the 
 consequence ; and Conway received the 
 ball of his antagonist, which passed into 
 his mouth and through the upper part of 
 his neck, in its course justly lacerating 
 that "unruly member" which had villified 
 78 
 
 the character and motives of the great 
 
 o 
 
 chief. He believed himself to be a dying 
 man, and had the grace to write the fol 
 lowing letter to Washington : 
 
 " SIR : I find myself just able to hold 
 the pen during a few minutes, and take 
 this opportunity of expressing my sincere 
 grief for having done, written, or said any 
 thing disagreeable to your excellency. 
 My career will soon be over ; therefore 
 justice and truth prompt me to declare 
 my last sentiments. You are, in my eyes, 
 the great and good man. May you long en 
 joy the love, veneration, and esteem, of 
 these states, whose liberties you have as 
 serted by your virtues. 
 
 " I am, 
 
 " With the greatest respect, &c., 
 "THOMAS CONWAY." 
 
 The wounded general, however, sur 
 vived his injuries, and returned to France, 
 his adopted country ; leaving behind him, 
 as an immortality of dishonor in America, 
 the ill-favored association of his name 
 with the disreputable " Conway cabal." 
 
 Toward spring, the aspect of the Amer 
 ican camp became more encouraging. A 
 committee of Congress had been sent to 
 Valley Forge, to confer with Washington 
 upon the organization of a better system 
 for the army. The commander-in-chief, 
 in conjunction with his officers, prepared 
 a document, in which a plan of reform 
 was laid down, which subsequently was 
 for the most part adopted. There was 
 yet much suffering, before the new sys 
 tem could be thoroughly carried out ; but 
 already supplies began to arrive, and the 
 troops, if still deprived of comforts, were 
 
r~ 
 
 618 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 no lono;er in imminent dread of frost and 
 
 O 
 
 famine. 
 
 The camp was also enlightened by the 
 arrival of some distinguished visitors. 
 Mrs. Washington had come to solace with 
 her presence the trials and anxieties of 
 the general, and was cheerfully submit 
 ting to the rude hospitalities of the log- 
 huts of Valley Forge. General Greene, 
 Lord Stirling, and General Knox,likewise 
 had their wives now in camp. Bryan Fair 
 fax, his old Virginia friend and neighbor, 
 who, though still loyal to his king, did 
 not fail to show his warm attachment to 
 the American general by a cordial visit 
 on his way from the banks of the Poto 
 mac to New York, and again on his re 
 turn. General Charles Lee, by an ex- 
 ihange for the British general Prescott 
 captured on Rhode island), was now re 
 instated in his old position as second in 
 command, and, although still tenacious of 
 his oddities, was observed to be more sub 
 dued in the exhibition of them. During 
 the later days of his captivity he had had 
 little to complain of in his treatment. He 
 enjoyed, as he tells us, the full liberty of 
 the city of New York and its limits ; had 
 horses at his command, furnished by Sir 
 Henry Clinton and General Robertson ; 
 and had lodged with two of "the oldest 
 and warmest friends" he had in the world, 
 Colonel Butler and Colonel Disney, of the 
 forty-second regiment. With this taste 
 of the conventional comforts of life and 
 of the pleasures of society, Lee seemed 
 temporarily sweetened to a better humor, 
 and his return was cordially welcomed. 
 He soon recurred, however, to his old bit 
 terness of temper. 
 
 The brawny Colonel Ethan Allen was 
 also restored to liberty, and was flashing 
 out, in his stormy eloquence, the lightning 
 of his indignation against the tyrants of 
 his country. He found ready listeners, 
 in the camp at Valley Forge, to his rude 
 oratory and to the wondrous story he 
 had to tell of his strange adventures and 
 daring feats during his long captivity and 
 compulsory travels. He was, he declared, 
 ready again to meet the foes of his coun 
 try ; and Washington having obtained for 
 him a colonel s commission, it was expect 
 ed that he would still have remained to 
 do doughty deeds, but he preferred to 
 return to his adopted country (Vermont), 
 where he lived to tell over and over, in 
 swelling words, the history of his strange 
 experience. 
 
 The young marquis Lafayette had been 
 temporarily withdrawn from the camp. 
 The new board of war, under the presi 
 dency of General Gates, had proposed an 
 expedition against Canada. This was 
 supposed to have been devised for the es 
 pecial glory of the " Con way cabal ;" and 
 an appointment in the enterprise was of 
 fered to the young Frenchman, with the 
 hope of securing his adhesion to that fac 
 tion. Lafayette accepted the offer not. 
 however, until he had consulted Washing 
 ton and soon proved that all attempts 
 upon his fidelity to the coinmander-in- 
 chief were futile. His first rebuke, ad 
 ministered to the conspirators, was at 
 Yorktown, where he had gone to receive 
 from Congress his instructions. Here he 
 was welcomed by the " cabal," and flat 
 tered by every possible attention. Dining 
 with General Gates, who was surrounded 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. J 
 
 ARRIVAL OF THE BARON STEUBEN. 
 
 619 
 
 by <i circle of his particular friends and 
 admirers, the wine passed freely, and, as 
 was usual in those days, toasts were given. 
 As the company were about rising, La 
 fayette filled his glass, and, reminding 
 those at the table that they had forgot 
 ten one toast, gave deliberately, " The 
 commander-in-chief of the American ar 
 mies." It was received with a coolness 
 which ^proved what he had suspected 
 that he was not surrounded by the friends 
 of Washington. 
 
 Lafayette, however, proceeded on his 
 journey ; but, on reaching Albany, where 
 he had been led to believe that at least 
 three thousand men and a large supply 
 of military stores were in readiness for 
 the expedition to Canada, he met with a 
 great disappointment, which is emphatic 
 ally described in his letter to Washing 
 ton : "I don t believe," he writes, "I can 
 find, in all, twelve hundred men fit for 
 duty, and the greatest part of these are 
 naked, even for a summer campaign. I 
 was to find General Stark, with a large 
 body; and, indeed, General Gates told me, 
 General Stark will have burned the fleet be 
 fore your arrival! Well, the first letter I 
 receive in Albany is from General Stark, 
 who wishes to know what number of men, 
 from where, what time, and for what ren 
 dezvous, I desire him to raise" 
 
 The young marquis, with the nice sense 
 of ridicule peculiar to a cultivated French 
 man, was heartily ashamed of the affair, 
 and, with rather unnecessary sensitive 
 ness, was fearful that he was disgraced in 
 the eyes of the world for the failure of 
 an expedition so fruitful in promise but 
 so abortive in issue. He wrote to Wash 
 
 ington, expressing his anxieties, and re 
 ceived an answer, in which he was judi 
 ciously told that his fears respecting his 
 reputation were " excited by an uncom 
 mon degree of sensibility." The young 
 Frenchman soon returned to the camp at 
 Valley Forge, w r here he resumed his com 
 mand of a division of the army, and his 
 frequent intercourse with Washington, by 
 whom he was greatly beloved. 
 
 There was another arrival in the camp, 
 of more importance than all. It was that 
 of the baron FREDERICK WILLIAM AUGUSTUS 
 STEUBEN, a distinguished Prussian officer. 
 An old aid-de-camp of the great Freder 
 ick, he had learned and practised war un 
 der the first military tactician of Europe, 
 and now came with a singular vicissitude 
 to impart to a people struggling for in 
 dependence the lessons which he had ac 
 quired in the service of the most arbitra 
 ry of kings. Steuben s repute in Europe 
 was so high, that crowned heads competed 
 for him as an officer in their armies. The 
 emperor of Austria and the king of Sar 
 dinia both liberally bid for his services ; 
 and he was created grand marshal of the 
 court of Prince Hohenzollern-Heckingen, 
 and lieutenant-general and knight of the 
 order of Fidelity under the prince-mar 
 grave of Baden, and in the enjoyment of 
 other dignities, with an emolument which 
 amounted to about three thousand dollars 
 annually, when he resolved upon going 
 to America. 
 
 While visiting Paris, the baron listened 
 with interest to the accounts which he 
 heard from the French ministers of the 
 American cause, and they succeeded in 
 persuading him to join his fortunes with 
 
620 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 it. Franklin and Deane, then the Ameri 
 can ngents in France, gladly welcomed 
 the acquisition of the baron, from whose 
 thorough practise as a military disciplina 
 rian they expected good service in the 
 training of the loosely-ordered American 
 army, and gave him strong letters of rec 
 ommendation. The versatile Beaumar- 
 chais, the author of "Figaro"- by turns 
 watchmaker, playwright, courtier, and 
 financier was just then, while perform 
 ing in the last capacity, under the aus 
 pices of the French court, supplying the 
 United States with money and military 
 stores. Under the assumed mercantile 
 names of" Roderique, Hotales, and Com 
 pany," the ever-active Beaumarchais had 
 got ready a ship and a cargo for his cus 
 tomers in America, and he now offered 
 the baron Steuben a passage. Lc Ilmrmx 
 (for that was the well-omened name of 
 the vessel) made a rough and dangerous 
 voyage, but finally landed the baron in 
 safety at Portsmouth, in New Hampshire, 
 on the 1st of November, 1777. On his 
 arrival, he sent forward his letters from 
 Franklin and Deane, with one from him 
 self, to Washington : 
 
 " The object of my greatest ambition," 
 wrote the baron, " is to render your coun 
 try all the service in my power, and to 
 deserve the title of a citizen of America, 
 by fighting for the cause of your liberty. 
 If the distinguished ranks in which 1 have 
 served in Europe should be an obstacle, 
 I had rather serve under your excellency 
 
 / * 
 
 as a volunteer than to be an object of dis 
 content among such deserving officers as 
 have already distinguished themselves 
 among you. 
 
 " I could say, moreover, were it not for 
 fear of offending your modesty, that your 
 excellency is the only person under whom, 
 after having served under the king of 
 Prussia, I could wish to pursue an art to 
 which I have wholly given myself up." 
 
 Franklin, in his letter, spoke warmly 
 of the claims of Steuben. " He goes to 
 America with a true zeal for our cause, 
 and a view of engaging in it, and render 
 ing it all the service in his power. He 
 is recommended to us by two of the best 
 judges of military merit in this country, 
 M. le comte de Vergennes and M. le comte 
 de St. Germain, who have long been per 
 sonally acquainted with him, and inter 
 est themselves in promoting- his voyage, 
 from the full persuasion that the knowl 
 edge and experience he has acquired by 
 twenty years study and practice in the 
 Prussian school may be of great use in 
 our armies." 
 
 Steuben, on presenting himself to Con 
 gress, offered his services as a volunteer, 
 which w r ere accepted with expressions of 
 acknowledgment for his generous disin 
 terestedness. He then proceeded to the 
 camp at Valley Forge. The baron made 
 a favorable first impression upon Wash 
 ington, who thus wrote : "He appears to 
 be much of a gentleman, and, as far as I 
 have had an opportunity of judging, a 
 man of military knowledge, and acquaint 
 ed with the world." He had not been 
 many days in camp, when Washington so 
 highly appreciated his abilities, that he 
 recommended Congress to appoint him 
 inspector-general of the army, an office to 
 which the faction had raised General Con- 
 way, but who never fulfilled its duties. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] CHARACTER AND SERVICES OF STEUBEN. 
 
 621 
 
 May 5, 
 
 The baron Steuben was accordingly ap 
 pointed inspector-general of the 
 army, with the rank of major- 
 general, and immediately assumed his 
 new position. Other inspectors were ap 
 pointed, subordinate to him. Of these 
 were Ternant and Fleury, both of whom 
 were gallant and efficient officers, who 
 had been disciplined in the armies of 
 France, and who, being fair English schol 
 ars, were enabled to act as interpreters 
 to the baron, of whose aid in this respect 
 he stood greatly in need, as his own Eng 
 lish vocabulary was as yet very limited. 
 Steuben was also glad to avail himself of 
 the assistance of Captain Walker, who un 
 derstood French, and whom he appointed 
 his aid. 
 
 The baron, with his portly form, his 
 somewhat venerable appearance (though 
 he was but forty-eight years of age), his 
 rich uniform, his splendid diamond-and- 
 gold order of Fidelity hanging from his 
 neck, and his military formalities of man 
 ner, made a great impression upon the 
 raw troops whom he now undertook to 
 teach the tactics of war. He was a rigid 
 disciplinarian, and exacted the most mi 
 nute obedience to orders. His scrutini 
 zing eye was everywhere along the line, 
 and upon each soldier, closely inspecting 
 every position and every article of accou 
 trement and dress. He required that the 
 musket and bayonet should exhibit the 
 brightest polish ; not a spot of rust, or 
 defect in any part, could elude his vigi 
 lance. He was as severe in his exactions 
 of duty from the officers as from the men. 
 His attention was directed to every de 
 partment. From the surgeons he re 
 
 quired lists of the sick, a statement of 
 their accommodations and mode of treat 
 ment, and did not hesitate to visit the 
 hospitals himself. 
 
 His trials may well be conceived to 
 have been severe, with the rude, inde 
 pendent material which he was striving 
 to form into an orderly soldiery ; and on 
 some occasions his patience and his vo 
 cabulary were alike exhausted. " Viens, 
 Walker ; men, bon ami, curse ! Gd d n de 
 yaucherie of dese badauts ! je ne puis plus 
 I can curse dem no more T cried out the 
 baron one day to Captain Walker, his aid- 
 de-camp, when the stupidity of some raw 
 recruits had drawn so liberally upon his 
 polyglott vocabulary of oaths as to leave 
 him destitute of resource. 
 
 Severe, however, as Steuben was as a 
 military disciplinarian, he was the kindest 
 of human creatures. He was so charita 
 ble, and gave away his money so freely, 
 that he never had a dollar for himself! 
 Washington said that if any specific sum, 
 however large, were bestowed upon Steu 
 ben, his generous heart would keep him 
 poor, and he would die a beggar. He 
 was simple in his habits, an early riser, 
 and a moderate man at the table ; but he 
 was so socially inclined, that he always 
 kept open house for all who came. He 
 was so generous, that he was known to 
 have sold his watch, to supply the wants 
 of a sick friend ; and his horse, to enter 
 tain a guest! He was only careless of 
 his own interests ; and while his own ex 
 chequer was empty, and his accounts in 
 confusion, he was so regardful of the pub 
 lic property confided to his trust, that, 
 while inspector-general, only three mus- 
 
622 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPAHT n. 
 
 kets were found deficient, and these ac 
 counted for in his return to the war de 
 partment. Before his appointment., five 
 thousand muskets were always the allow 
 ance made in the estimate for loss, in the 
 number actually supplied. 
 
 Steuben s services in organizing and 
 drilling the American army were so great, 
 that the regulars who had been formed 
 under his eye were said never to have 
 been beaten in a fair engagement with 
 the enemy. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVIII. 
 
 Occasional Skirmishes. "Light-Horse Harry." A Successful Defence. Wayne and Pulaski. Successful Encounters. 
 Captain Barry and his Row-Boats. A Prize. Sir Henry Clinton in Danger. The Play not worth the Candle. 
 Fortification of West Point. Kosciusko. The British Forayers. The Queen s Rangers. Hay and Corn. Sir Henry 
 Clinton in Command at Philadelphia. He proposes to retire. Lafayette set to watch the British. He is caught in a 
 Critical Position. A Skilful Manoeuvre and Fortunate Escape. The Enemy return to Philadelphia. A Successful 
 Raid by the British over the Delaware. 
 
 1778, 
 
 FEW occurrences, of a strictly 
 military character, took place while 
 the two armies were in winter-quarters. 
 There were, however, occasional skirmish 
 es between parties sent out to forage. 
 Captain Henry Lee, as usual, did good 
 service with his light-horse, and cheered 
 the heart of Washington (who was so 
 much attached to him) by his frequent 
 feats of gallantry. While stationed with 
 his troop of cavalry as an advanced guard 
 at Derby, Lee was attacked by a party 
 of the enemy s dragoons, nearly two hun 
 dred in number, who endeavored to sur 
 prise him. About daybreak they made 
 their appearance. Lee was on the alert, 
 and manned the doors and windows of 
 the large stone-house where he was quar 
 tered. The British dragoons, trusting to 
 their vast superiority in numbers, attempt 
 ed to force their way into the building. 
 The contest became very warm, but the 
 
 spirit of Lee s men baffled the enemy, 
 and they were driven off from the house. 
 They made an attempt to carry off the 
 horses, but they were also forced from 
 the stables, without being able to take a 
 single animal. The British had one com 
 missioned officer, a sergeant, and three 
 soldiers wounded, and three privates ta 
 ken prisoners. The Americans lost four 
 privates, who belonged to the patrol- 
 guard, and who, being stationed outside 
 of the building, were overpowered while 
 struggling manfully against the whole 
 troop of dragoons. A sergeant was also 
 taken prisoner, and a lieutenant and two 
 soldiers wounded. 
 
 A small force had been stationed by 
 Washington during the winter at Tren 
 ton, to keep in check the foraging-parties 
 of the enemy. While Wayne and Count 
 Pulaski were in command of their respect- 
 j ive troops in this quarter, three thousand 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] BARRY S EXPLOIT. PLAN TO CAPTURE CLINTON. 
 
 623 
 
 British crossed the Delaware and attempt 
 ed to surround them. The Americans, 
 however, succeeded in escaping, and har 
 assed the enemy severely on their return 
 across the ferry. Pulaski behaved with 
 great daring on the occasion, and during 
 a smart skirmish had his horse wounded. 
 After the British returned to their camp 
 in the city, General Wayne crossed the 
 Delaware, laid waste the forage in Phila 
 delphia and Bucks counties, and retired 
 over the river, driving before him the 
 horses and cattle. 
 
 On the water, too, Captain Barry, of 
 the navy, had by his gallantry won a 
 small triumph. Having manned four 
 boats at Burlington, in New Jersey, he 
 rowed down the Delaware with muffled 
 oars, and took two British transports and 
 an armed schooner by surprise. They 
 were from Rhode Island, and bound to 
 Philadelphia. The transports were laden 
 with forage, and the schooner was well 
 mounted with four- pound cannon and 
 howitzers. The exploit was gallantly ex 
 ecuted, as the river was in full possession 
 of the enemy s ships. Barry, in fact, had 
 no sooner seized his prizes, than he was 
 obliged to burn one, to prevent its being 
 retaken ; and " 1 fear the other," he wrote 
 to Washington, " will share the same fate 
 after discharging her; but I am deter 
 mined to hold the schooner at all events." 
 
 There was another affair which would 
 probably have been successful, had it not 
 been concluded that " the play was not 
 worth the candle." While Sir Henry Clin 
 ton was in command in New York, he 
 occupied the house of Captain Kennedy, 
 of the British navy, near the " Battery." 
 
 General Washington had learned the ex 
 act position of all the approaches to the 
 dwelling, and even of the bedchamber of 
 Sir Henry ; and it was proposed to carry 
 him off Eight or ten light whale-boats, 
 manned by a hundred and fifty Marble- 
 head seamen (dressed in red, that they 
 might pass for British soldiers), were to 
 move down the Hudson with muffled oars 
 from the Highlands to New York, where 
 the men were to land and seize the Brit 
 ish general. Everything was in readiness 
 for carrying out the enterprise, which 
 gave every promise of success, when Colo 
 nel Hamilton took occasion to ask Wash 
 ington, " Have you examined the conse 
 quences of it?" "In what respect?" re 
 plied the general. " Why, it has occurred 
 to me," rejoined Hamilton, " that we shall 
 rather lose than gain by removing Sir 
 Henry Clinton from the command of the 
 British army, because we perfectly un 
 derstand his character; and, by taking 
 him ofi^ we only make way for some oth 
 er, perhaps an abler officer, whose char 
 acter and disposition we may have to 
 learn." The good sense of this remark 
 was immediately acknowledged by Wash 
 ington, and the scheme abandoned. 
 
 The importance of holding the High 
 lands of the Hudson was never disregard 
 ed ; and, after the fall of Forts Clinton 
 and Montgomery, it was determined to 
 select some other position, and strongly 
 fortify it. General Putnam s attention 
 was directed to this important matter, 
 and he, together with the Clintons of New 
 York, carefully reconnoitred the banks of 
 the river, with the view of selecting a 
 proper site for a fort. West Point was 
 
024 
 
 deemed most eligible by them, as well as 
 by a committee of the legislature of New 
 York; although Radio re, the French en 
 gineer, did not approve of the site. There 
 was some delay in constructing the works 
 in consequence of the absence of General 
 Putnam from his command on the Hud 
 son. Brigadier-General Parsons, of Mas 
 sachusetts, who succeeded him tempora 
 rily, not feeling authorized to act, noth 
 ing was done until the arrival of 
 
 
 General M Dougall, who assumed 
 
 the command. As Radiere had objected 
 to the site of West Point, which it was 
 now determined to fortify, Kosciusko was 
 chosen in his place ; and the works were 
 begun, and pushed on with great vigor. 
 The chief redoubt, constructed of logs 
 and embankments of earth, was finished 
 before the month of May. It was large, 
 and well placed upon a cliff rising nearly 
 two hundred feet above the water. Fort 
 Clinton was the name given to it, in hon 
 or of the governor of New York. There 
 were other redoubts planned and finally 
 erected upon the eminences in the neigh 
 borhood, while connected with the works 
 were barracks and quarters for nearly six 
 hundred men. There was also a heavy 
 chain stretched across the river, to pre 
 vent the passage of vessels. 
 
 Although Sir William Howe was inac 
 tive with the main body of the British 
 army at Philadelphia, some of his fora- 
 ging-parties showed great enterprise and 
 alacrity. Colonel Mawhood and Major 
 Simcoe, with the corps of America loyal 
 ists called the " Queen s Rangers," made 
 themselves memorable by their success 
 ful activity at Salem and at Quintian and 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 May 18, 
 
 Hancock s bridges. " They generally suc 
 ceeded in their petty objects," says one 
 of their own historians. " The fighting 
 was chiefly for hay and corn, clothes and 
 blankets." 
 
 As it was rumored that Sir Henry Clin 
 ton (who had taken command of the Brit 
 ish army on the resignation of Sir Wil 
 liam Howe) was about to evacuate Phila 
 delphia, the young marquis Lafayette was 
 detached with twenty-four hundred of the 
 choicest of the American troops and five 
 fieldpieces, " to move," as Washington said, 
 " between the Delaware and the Sell ivy 1- 
 kill, for restraining the enemy s parties 
 and procuring intelligence, and to act as 
 circumstances may require." 
 
 Lafayette accord ingty marched from 
 headquarters, and took post at 
 Barren hill, on the east side of 
 the Schuj lkill river, about half way be 
 tween Philadelphia and Valley Forge. 
 Here his troops were encamped on com 
 manding ground, with the artillery in 
 front, the Schuylkill and rocky precipices 
 on the right flank, and wooden and some 
 strongly-built stone houses on the left. 
 In advance of the left wing was posted 
 Captain M Lane with his company, and 
 about fifty Indians. On the roads lead 
 ing to Philadelphia, videttes and pickets 
 were stationed ; and six hundred Penn 
 sylvania militia were ordered to watch 
 those which led to Whitemarsh. At a 
 short distance from the left of the en 
 campment was a church, where two roads 
 joined, both of which led to Valley Forge, 
 one by Matson s ford and the other by 
 Swedes ford, leading across the Schuyl 
 kill. 
 
RKVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 SKILFUL RETREAT OF LAFAYETTE. 
 
 May 20. 
 
 Early on the second morning 
 
 / 
 
 after encamping, while Lafay 
 ette was conversing with a young girl, 
 who was about setting out for Philadel 
 phia, to collect information, under the pre 
 text of visiting her relatives, intelligence 
 was brought to him that some cavalry, 
 dressed in red, had been seen at White- 
 marsh. The marquis was expecting some 
 American dragoons; and at first he in 
 ferred that, as they were to come in that 
 direction, those reported to have been 
 seen were his own men. To make sure, 
 however, he sent out an officer to recon 
 noitre, who soon returned with the alarm 
 ing intelligence that one column of the 
 enemy was in full march from White- 
 marsh to Swedes ford, and that their 
 front had already gained the road which 
 led from Barren hill to Valley Forge ; 
 while another column was approaching 
 by the Philadelphia road. The Pennsyl 
 vania militia, whose duty it was to watch 
 at Whitemarsh, had shifted their position 
 without orders, and thus exposed Lafay 
 ette to a surprise. 
 
 The young marquis now found himself 
 in a critical position ; but, without losing 
 for a moment his presence of mind, he 
 calmly yet rapidly set about extricating 
 himself. He first changed the front of 
 his troops, and, having so disposed them 
 as to bring them under the cover of the 
 woods and stone-houses, in case of a sud 
 den attack from the approaching enemy, 
 he then strove to seek out a way of re 
 treat. The direct road to Valley Forge, 
 by Swedes ford, was in possession of a 
 large force of the British. The only route 
 left was the somewhat circuitous one by 
 79 
 
 Matson s ford. This was his only chance 
 of escape, and this he availed himself of. 
 He first sent off the advanced guard, un 
 der the command of General Poor, and 
 followed himself with the rear. 
 
 To conceal his intention, however, from 
 the enemy, who, as the road to Matson s 
 ford was hidden by an intervening hill 
 covered with trees, could not see the re 
 treating Americans, Lafayette now and 
 then despatched small parties through the 
 woods to make a demonstration, as if they 
 were heads of columns inarching to an 
 attack. The enemy were completely de 
 ceived. General Grant, w 7 ho commanded 
 the detachment of British advancing in 
 that direction, halted and prepared for 
 action. This gave the young marquis an 
 opportunity of accomplishing his purpose; 
 and he succeeded in throwing his main 
 body across the Schuylkill at Matson s 
 ford, without the least interruption, and 
 posting it on some stony ground on the 
 opposite bank. The artillery naturally 
 lagged behind, and, before it could pass 
 the river, some skirmishing occurred with 
 the enemy, who came up, undeceived, at 
 the last moment. The Americans lost 
 nine killed and taken prisoners, and the 
 British two or three in all. 
 
 General Grant, finding himself outma 
 noeuvred, pushed on toward Swedes ford, 
 where he joined the other British detach 
 ment, which Sir Henry Clinton himself 
 commanded. They reached the river, 
 and took a survey of the marquis and his 
 troops on the other side; but, finding 
 them too securely posted to be dislodged, 
 they turned and marched back to Phila 
 delphia. 
 
626 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 When Washington heard the firing, he 
 was in great anxiety for the safety of the 
 
 o / J 
 
 marquis. He and his officers ascended 
 some rising ground beyond the camp at 
 Valley Forge, and with their field-glasses 
 watched the movements of the troops 
 with the deepest solicitude, which was not 
 relieved until Lafayette arrived in camp, 
 bringing the report and proof of his clev 
 erly-managed escape from the enemy. 
 
 The British were more successful in a 
 raid which they made upon the water. 
 A party ascended the Delaware in flat- 
 bottomed boats, and set fire to the small 
 
 American vessels which had sought ref- 
 
 O 
 
 uge in the shallow part of the river above. 
 and destroyed the storehouses at Borden- 
 town, on the New- Jersey side. 
 
 There was little else accomplished, wor 
 thy of record, until the beginning of sum 
 mer. There were, however, other events 
 occurring in the meantime, which were 
 of more importance in their effect upon 
 the cause of American independence than 
 any of the inglorious feats of arms that 
 we have had occasion to narrate in this 
 chapter. To these matters let us now 
 turn our attention. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 Good News at Valley Forge. Treaty between France and the United States. Celebration. Brilliant Appearance of tne 
 American Army. -Public Dinner. Huzzas! Simeon Deane. His Arrival at Yorktown. French Diplomacy. 
 Lord North s " Conciliatory Bills." British Commissioners. Free Circulation of the Bills. Counter-Statements. 
 Warm Reception of the Bills in Rhode Island. Arrival of the Commissioners. The " Dandy Carlisle." His Asso 
 ciates. Secretary Ferguson. Departure of Sir William Howe. Evacuation of Philadelphia. Discouragement of 
 the Inhabitants. The Commissioners refused a Passport. British Address to Congress. No Negotiation without 
 Independence. Intrigue. Attempt at Corruption. Memorable Reply of Reed. Justification of Johnstone. Appeal 
 to the People. Lafuyetta challenges Lord Carlisle. A Sensible Answer. 
 
 1778, 
 
 WEDNESDAY, May 7th, was a day 
 of such exulting joy in the camp at 
 Valley Forge as the most sanguine, du 
 ring that winter of privation and suffer 
 ing which had just passed, never ventured 
 to hope for. " Our independence is un 
 doubtedly secured our country must 
 be free !" was now the feeling which glad 
 dened the hearts of even the most de 
 sponding patriots, on learning that a trea 
 ty had been signed between France and 
 the United States. It was proper that 
 such an ocoasion should be marked by 
 
 every observance and ceremonial which 
 could fix it in the memories of all. Ac 
 cordingly, Washington determined to cel 
 ebrate the auspicious day. 
 
 With that reverence for religion which 
 was a strong characteristic of the com- 
 mander-in-chief in his public as well as 
 private conduct, the first part of the day 
 set apart for the celebration of the occa 
 sion was devoted to a grateful acknowl 
 edgment of the Divine goodness, " it hav 
 ing pleased the Almighty Ruler of the 
 universe to defend the cause of the Uni- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] REJOICINGS AT THE TREATY WITH FRANCE. 
 
 627 
 
 ted American states, and finally," in the 
 words of Washington s order for the day, 
 " to raise us up a powerful friend among 
 the princes of the earth, to establish our 
 liberty and independence upon a lasting 
 foundation." The brigades were all as 
 sembled at nine o clock in the 
 May 7, . . 
 
 morning ; and the intelligence 
 
 of the treaty having been communicated 
 
 j o 
 
 to them by the chaplains, prayer, thanks 
 giving, and a " discourse suitable to the 
 occasion," followed. 
 
 At half-past ten o clock, a cannon was 
 fired, as a signal for the men to be under 
 arms. The dress and accoutrements hav 
 ing been inspected, the battalions formed, 
 and, the order to load and ground arms 
 given, a second cannon was fired as a sig 
 nal to march. The whole army then pa 
 raded. A discharge of thirteen cannon 
 now took place, followed by a fcu-de-joie 
 of musketry running along each line. A 
 signal having been given, the entire ar 
 my burst forth, shouting, "Long live the 
 king of France /" A second discharge of 
 thirteen cannon, and a feu-de-joie of mus 
 ketry, followed. Then another shout 
 "Lone/ lice the friendly European powers I" 
 Again, a third discharge of artillery and 
 musketry, closing with a loud huzza for 
 < The American Slates /" 
 
 The army made a most brilliant appear 
 ance on parade, and entered with great 
 spirit into the celebration. In the after 
 noon, Washington dined in public, with 
 all the oflicers of the army, and attended 
 by a band of music. " I never was pres 
 ent," wrote one of the American oflicers, 
 where there was such unfeigned and 
 perfect joy as was discovered in every 
 
 April 13. 
 
 countenance. The entertainment was 
 concluded with a number of patriotic 
 toasts, attended with huzzas. When the 
 general took his leave, there was a uni 
 versal clap, with loud huzzas, which con 
 tinued till he had proceeded a quarter of 
 a mile, during which time there were a 
 thousand hats tossed in the air. His ex 
 cellency turned round with his retinue, 
 and huzzaed several times." 
 
 The treaties of commerce and alliance 
 between France and the United States 
 were signed as early as the 6th of Feb 
 ruary. They were brought to the Uni 
 ted States by Simeon Deane, the brother 
 of Silas Deane, one of the American com 
 missioners in Paris. He arrived at Fal- 
 mouth (now Portland), in Maine, 
 on board the French frigate Sen 
 sible, of thirty-six guns, which Louis XVI. 
 had expressly ordered to convey him. 
 Deane did not present himself to Con 
 gress, at Yorktown, until the 2d of May ; 
 and five days more passed before the im 
 portant intelligence which he bore was 
 received at the camp at Valley Forge. 
 
 The French government strove to con 
 ceal from England the fact of the signing 
 of the treaty with the United States un 
 til it had made some progress in carrying 
 out its objects. The British cabinet, how 
 ever, though not directly informed, had 
 received such intelligence as to induce 
 its members to believe it, and act accord 
 ingly. Lord North, the prime minister, in 
 order to counteract the French alliance, 
 immediately introduced his " conciliatory 
 bills," which were rapidly passed through 
 Parliament. Tlie.se conceded more than 
 was ever asked by America as a colony, 
 
028 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART u. 
 
 and would have been thought generous 
 in 1774. In 1778, all concessions offered 
 by Great Britain to the United States 
 were considered as gratuitous insults to 
 an independent nation, and were thrown 
 back with indignant contempt. British 
 ministers, however, were still hopeful ; 
 and, having secured the passa-ge of the 
 conciliatory bills, they sent copies of them 
 to be industriously circulated in America, 
 and appointed three commissioners to car 
 ry out their purpose. 
 
 There was some anxiety felt even in 
 the United States about the possible ef 
 fect of these measures of the English gov 
 ernment. Lafayette declared he feared 
 the arrival of the commissioners more 
 than that of ten thousand men. Wash 
 ington himself was fearful that Congress 
 
 O O 
 
 might not be equal to the emergency. 
 " This more than ever," said he, " is the 
 time for Congress to be filled with the 
 first characters from every state, instead 
 of having a thin assembly, and many states 
 totally unrepresented, as is the case at 
 present." 
 
 The British agents spared no exertions 
 in distributing copies of the conciliatory 
 bills ; and Tryon, the tory governor of 
 New York, was, as usual, among the most 
 prominent of them, lie sent Washing 
 ton a supply, impertinently asking him 
 to circulate them among his officers and 
 men. " They were suffered," wrote the 
 American general, in answer, " to have a 
 free currency among the officers and men 
 under my command, in whose fidelity to 
 the United States I have the most perfect 
 confidence." lie also returned Tryon a 
 Roland for his Oliver, in the shape of sev 
 
 eral printed copies of a resolution of Con 
 gress, offering pardon io all who had taken 
 up arms against the United States, with the 
 request that he would be instrumental in 
 communicating its contents, as far as it 
 might be in his power, to the persons who 
 were intended to be the objects of its op 
 erations. - The benevolent purpose it is 
 intended to answer," added Washington, 
 
 O 7 
 
 sarcastically, " will, I persuade myself, suf 
 ficiently recommend it to your candor." 
 
 The popular feeling in reference to the 
 " conciliatory bills" was in character with 
 that so emphatically expressed by the peo 
 ple in Rhode Island, who seized and burnt 
 them under the gallows. Congress, as 
 well as the nation, was proof against the 
 British bills. That body unanimously re 
 solved "that these United States can not 
 with propriety hold any conference or 
 treaty with any commissioners on the 
 part of Great Britain, unless they shall, as 
 a preliminary thereto, either withdraw 
 their fleets and armies, or else in positive 
 and express terms acknowledge the inde 
 pendence of the said states." This did 
 not promise very favorably for the com 
 ing commissioners. 
 
 In accordance with the provisions of 
 the "conciliatory bills," three commission 
 ers were duly appointed, who arrived at 
 Philadelphia in the early part of 
 the summer. They were all no 
 table men, though perhaps not the best 
 adapted for such an embassy. The earl 
 of Carlisle was well known as an aristo 
 cratic dandy or maccaroni, as he would 
 have been called in those days. No one 
 had fluttered his ruffles more gayly on 
 the matt in St. James s park. He was fresh 
 
 June 6. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE BRITISH COMMISSIONERS IN PHILADEPHIA. 
 
 629 
 
 from exchanging scandal with Walpole at 
 "Arthur s," and from playing hazard at 
 " Brooke s," where his companions may 
 have been statesmen, but he knew them 
 only in their pleasures, and not in their 
 business. His intimate friend was George 
 Selwyn, the man of fashion, of whom he 
 was a correspondent ; and not Charles 
 James Fox, the statesman and orator, who 
 condemned his appointment declaring 
 that Governor Johnstone was the only 
 member of the commission " who could 
 have the ear of the people in America."* 
 
 Johnstone, who had been governor of 
 Florida, was prominent in Parliament as 
 an advocate for the American cause, and 
 was believed to be a firm friend of the 
 colonies. He, however, like the earl of 
 Chatham and others, who boldly stood 
 forward, at the beginning of the struggle, 
 for political concessions to the Americans 
 as colonists, was strenuously opposed to 
 their acknowledgment as an independent 
 nation. The third commissioner was Wil 
 liam Eden, afterward Lord Auckland, the 
 brother of the colonial governor of Ma 
 ryland. 
 
 The secretary of the commission was 
 Doctor Adam Ferguson, who was at that 
 time about fifty-five years of age, and, 
 by his "Essay on ike History of Civil Socie 
 ty" had obtained a high rank, among the 
 Humes and Smiths of his native Scotland, 
 as a philosophical writer. He subsequent 
 ly became still more famous by his pro 
 found and learned " History of the Progress 
 
 * " Lord Carlisle was a voting man of pleasure and fash 
 ion ; fond of dress and gaming, by which he had greatly hurt 
 his fortune; was totally unacquainted with business; and, 
 though not void of ambition, had but moderate parts and 
 less application." HORACE WALPOLK. 
 
 and the Termination of the Roman Republic." 
 Ferguson had a most gallant spirit in a 
 martial frame of body, and was as well 
 fitted to fight battles as to describe them.* 
 
 When the commissioners reached Phil 
 adelphia, the easy, indulgent Sir William 
 Howe had been gone a fortnight. His 
 departure was deeply regretted, for he 
 was greatly beloved by both his officers 
 and men ; having been, as is sarcastically 
 observed by an English writer, "on all 
 occasions extremely careful of their lives" and 
 attentive to their comforts. The parting 
 was tender and affecting. The bravest 
 of the band are said to have shed tears 
 when the general stepped into his barge. 
 Admiral Lord Howe would have accom 
 panied his brother home to England, but 
 he had been urged to stay by the British 
 ministers, who anticipated that a, French 
 war, which was imminent, would soon fur 
 nish an occasion for the active services 
 of him and his fleet. Although their 
 names were included in the commission, 
 the Howes resolved not to act under the 
 leadership of Lord Carlisle, from some 
 feeling of pique or jealousy toward him, 
 or from discontent with the conduct of 
 the ministers. 
 
 The commissioners were received by 
 the inhabitants of Philadelphia with ev 
 ery manifestation of joy ; and 
 they would have been sanguine 
 of the success of their embassy, had they 
 not found, much to their surprise and vex 
 ation, that orders had been sent out to 
 Sir Henry Clinton, unknown to them, to 
 evacuate the city. Everything was in 
 great confusion as the British army was 
 
 * Pictorial History of En<rland. 
 
 June 6. 
 
630 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [TAUT n. 
 
 about leaving; and thousands of Philadel 
 phia tories were crowding on board the 
 transport-ships, as they did not care to 
 trust their loyalty to the tender mercies 
 of the pat-riots. The inhabitants, loath 
 to leave their homes, clung to the com 
 missioners with earnest appeals for pro 
 tection. " Why were you so long in com 
 ing? Do not abandon us!" they cried, 
 and entreated that the army should be 
 retained and sent against Washington. 
 They were also liberal of promises, and 
 declared that twenty thousand men were 
 ready to arm as soon as they were sup 
 plied with the means and the British gen 
 eral should take the field. Johnstone was 
 inclined to believe them, and said after 
 ward in Parliament, "I am persuaded, if 
 we had been at liberty to have acted in 
 the field, our most sanguine expectations 
 would have been fulfilled." But General 
 Howe could have told them that the 
 American loyalists were more liberal in 
 promise than in execution. The commis 
 sioners, however, had no power to alter 
 the destination of the army, as Sir Henry 
 Clinton s orders to evacuate Philadelphia 
 were peremptory. 
 
 The first act of the commissioners was 
 to charge their secretary with despatches 
 for Congress; and Sir Henry Clinton ad 
 dressed a letter to Washington, asking 
 for Ferguson a passport to York town, 
 where that body was in session. English 
 writers have declared that this request 
 was harshly refused. Washington s let 
 ter on the occasion to Sir Henry Clinton 
 disproves the charge. Nothing can be 
 more courteous than the terms in which 
 it is couched : 
 
 " HEADQUARTERS, Jane 9, 1778. 
 
 "SiK: At nine o clock this evening I 
 had the honor to receive your excellen 
 cy s letter of this date. I do not conceive 
 myself at liberty to grant the passport 
 you request for Doctor Ferguson, without 
 being previously instructed by Congress 
 on the subject. I shall despatch a copy 
 of your letter to them, and will take the 
 earliest opportunity of communicating 
 their determination. 
 
 "I have the honor to be, sir, &c., 
 
 " GEORGE WASHINGTON." 
 
 Without waiting for the decision of 
 Congress upon the application of Sir Hen 
 ry Clinton for a passport for Ferguson, 
 the commissioners forwarded their de 
 spatches. Among these was an "address" 
 to Congress, which the president was de 
 sired to read immediately. He began at 
 once, and continued reading till he came 
 to a passage containing strong expres 
 sions of disrespect to the king of France, 
 when he was interrupted ; and the house, 
 directing him to seal up the papers, ad 
 journed. At a subsequent session, the 
 subject was resumed ; when Congress or 
 dered a reply to be sent to the commis 
 sioners, in which their previous resolution 
 was reiterated, not to enter into negotia 
 tions with Great Britain for peace with 
 out an explicit acknowledgment of (lie 
 independence of the United States, or a 
 withdrawal ef British ileets and armies. 
 
 The commissioners, now" giving up all 
 hope of formal negotiation, made a vain 
 effort to effect by intrigue and bribery 
 what they had i ailed to obtain by honest 
 means. Governor Johnstone wrote a let 
 ter to Robert Morris, the financier, in 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 which he said: I believe the men who 
 have conducted the affairs of America in 
 capable of being influenced by improper 
 motives. But in all such transactions 
 there is a risk, and I think that whoever 
 ventures should be secured at the same 
 time; that honor and emolument should 
 naturally follow the fortunes of those who 
 have steered the vessel in the storm and 
 brought her safely into port. I think 
 Washington arid the president [of Con 
 gress] have a right to every favor that 
 grateful nations can bestow, if they could 
 once more unite our interests, and spare 
 the miseries and devastations of war. I 
 wish above all things to see you, and hope 
 you will so contrive it." 
 
 Morris was an acquaintance which 
 Johnstone had formed while living in 
 America as governor of West Florida- 
 Henry Laurens, of South Carolina, who 
 was now president of Congress, was an 
 other old friend, to whom a similar epis 
 tle was addressed. A correspondence also 
 took place with General Joseph Reed, but 
 a still bolder attempt was made upon his 
 integrity, as he stilted in Congress, of 
 which he was a member. A " married 
 lady of character, having connections with 
 the British army," intimated to Reed that 
 ten thousand pounds in money, and any 
 office in the colonies which the king could 
 bestow, awaited his exertions toward the 
 reconciliation of the colonies with the 
 mother-country. Reed s memorable an 
 swer was: "I am not worth purchasing; 
 but, such as I a,m, the king of Great Brit 
 ain is not rich enough to do it." 
 
 It is but just to Johnstone to state that 
 Adam Ferguson, who w r as the soul of 
 
 BRITISH ATTEMPTS AT BRIBERY. 
 
 631 
 
 honor and truth, declared that Johnstone 
 denied (and confirmed the assertion by 
 proofs and documents) that the bribe 
 proffered to Reed was authorized by him. 
 He could not, however, deny the letters 
 to Laurens and Morris, although his as 
 sociates in the commission (Lord Carlisle 
 and Eden) disclaimed all responsibility 
 for or even knowledge of them, until they 
 appeared in the newspapers. Congress 
 had declared these letters of Johnstone to 
 be atrocious attempts upon its integrity, 
 and resolved that no further correspond 
 ence should be held with the commission 
 er who had been guilty of them. 
 
 Finding all their efforts to negotiate 
 with the members of Congress in their 
 private or public capacity fruitless, the 
 commissioners appealed to the people, 
 and artfully strove to bring the prejudice 
 against the French, which the Americans 
 shared in common with their English rel 
 atives, to bear in opposition to the alli 
 ance with France. Lafayette s Gallic sen 
 sibility was greatly wounded by the at 
 tacks upon his native land, and in his 
 youthful ardor he challenged Lord Car 
 lisle ; but his lordship coolly answered 
 that he did not hold himself responsible 
 to any but his king and country for his 
 public conduct, and refused to accept the 
 challenge.* 
 
 * "Lord Carlisle, before lie left that quarter of the world, 
 had received a challenge from the marquis de Lafayette, a 
 young Frenchman of quality, married into the powerful 
 family of Noaillcs, and who, from enthusiasm for liberty, 
 had resorted to America seemingly without the approbation 
 of his court, though certainly with its connivance, as at his 
 return he received only a short exile ten miles from Paris, 
 and had been very active in the service of the Congress. 
 This young adventurer hud taken offence at expressions 
 reproachful to his country in the proclamation of the com 
 missiuners, and very absurdly had addressed himself to Lord 
 
032 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 This last effort of the British commis 
 sioners, however, proved no less unsuc 
 cessful than their previous attempts ; and 
 being thus totally balked, they finally 
 left the country with a feeling of con 
 
 tempt on the part of the American peo 
 ple toward them, and an ill-concealed dis 
 gust with themselves for having engaged 
 in an embassy that proved to be a fool s 
 errand. 
 
 CHAPTER LXX. 
 
 Evacuation of Philadelphia. Secrecy of Sir Henry Clinton. Washington in the Dark. A Divided Council. Opinion 
 of Washington. The Retreat of the British to be harassed. Washington crosses the Delaware. General Lee in Op 
 position. He gives up his Command to Lafayette, and retreats. Sir Henry Clinton changes his Line of March.- - 
 Lee ordered to the Advance. His March. Washington s Eagerness. Lee ordered to attack. Contradictory Orders. 
 Bewilderment. Plans. Lee in High Spirits. General Wayne s Charge. Altercation between Lee and Lafayette. 
 Washington summoned. Retreat of Lee. Meeting with Washington. Fierce Words. Nothing further to do.- - 
 The Struggle at Monmouth. Hot Engagement. Check of the British. Formation of the American Line. The 
 Enemy beaten back. Fall of General Monekton. The Day over Washington sleeps on the Field. 
 
 1778, 
 
 June 18, 
 
 SIR HENRY CLINTON, in pursuance 
 of his orders from the British min 
 istry, was about evacuating Philadelphia ; 
 but so adroitly had he made his prepara 
 tions, that even on the very day of his 
 march, his destination and route 
 were unknown in the American 
 camp. "As yet," wrote Washington, on 
 the morning of that day, " I am not fully 
 ascertained [informed] of the enemy s des 
 tination ; nor is there wanting a variety 
 of opinions as to the route they will pur 
 sue, whether it will be by land or sea, ad 
 mitting it to be New York." 
 
 On the previous day a council of war 
 was held, in which the question as to the 
 policy of attacking the British army on 
 
 Carlisle for satisfaction. The latter, in a very sensible let 
 ter, told him that he did not at all think it became him to 
 answer for his conduct as a public minister to a private 
 man, and that he thought the national quarrel would be 
 best decided by Admiral Byron and Comte D Estaing." 
 HORACE WALPOLE. 
 
 its march from Philadelphia (should New 
 Jersey be the route) was submitted. A 
 
 */ 
 
 great variety of opinion was entertained, 
 but most of the officers considered it too 
 hazardous to make a general attack ; for, 
 although the Americans had, including 
 
 O / i_; 
 
 the militia, nearly fourteen thousand men, 
 and the British numbered less than ten 
 thousand, the latter w r ere effective troops. 
 General Lee was opposed to doing any 
 thing beyond skirmishing with the out- 
 guards, and harassing the enemy as cir 
 cumstances would permit. His influence 
 in the council was great, and he carried 
 with him many of the other officers. The 
 decision of the majority was therefore in 
 accordance with Lee s views. 
 
 After the council broke up, however, 
 Generals Greene, Lafayette, and Wayne, 
 wrote to Washington, explaining more 
 fully their opinions, which differed from 
 those of the majority. They did not do- 
 
KKVOLUTIONATIY.] LEE AND LAFAYETTE. THE BRITISH MOVING. 
 
 633 
 
 clfire in favor of pushing the enemy at 
 all events to a general action, but they 
 strongly urged an attack upon their rear 
 with a large detachment, and such a dis 
 position of the main body of the army as 
 to be ready for an engagement should cir 
 cumstances seem favorable. Washington s 
 
 o 
 
 own opinion being in accordance with this 
 plan, he determined (if the British gave 
 him an opportunity) to adopt it. He, how 
 ever, as soon as he was well assured of 
 Sir Henry Clinton s movement across the 
 Delaware, sent out General Maxwell with 
 his brigade to co-operate with the New- 
 Jersey militia in obstructing the inarch 
 of the British. In accordance also with 
 the decision of the council, Washington 
 ordered a detachment of fifteen hundred 
 men, under General Scott, to act on the 
 enemy s left flank and rear, preliminary 
 to carrying out the more general plan of 
 attack which he anticipated, in further 
 ance of his own views, and those of Gen 
 erals Greene, Wayne, and Lafayette. 
 
 Washington now broke up his camp at 
 Valley Forge, and, crossing the Delaware 
 at Coryell s ferry, marched with his main 
 body to Cranberry. Having here learned 
 that the British were taking the route 
 toward Monmouth courthouse, he deter 
 mined to carry out his plan, and ordered 
 a thousand of his choicest troops under 
 Brigadier-General Wayne to advance im 
 mediately, and, having formed a junction 
 with Maxwell s brigade, the force under 
 Scott, and the other detachments which 
 had already been sent forward, to attack 
 the enemy s rear and flanks. 
 
 As General Lee was second in rank, the 
 whole advanced corps fell under his com- 
 80 
 
 mand. Lafayette, however, always eao;er 
 
 V O 
 
 for an opportunity to distinguish himself, 
 was glad to take advantage of Lee s sup 
 posed reluctance to execute a plan which 
 he had so strenuously opposed. Accord 
 ingly, the young marquis, suggesting to 
 Washington the probability of Lee s em 
 barrassment, offered himself as a substi 
 tute. The commander-in-chief answered 
 that such an arrangement would be agree 
 able to him, but that it was necessary to 
 obtain General Lee s consent, La.fa.v- 
 
 \J 
 
 ette s desire met with no opposition from 
 Lee, who immediately resigned the com 
 mand to him, with an emphatic denunci 
 ation of the plans of Washington, which 
 he was sure, he declared, would fail, and 
 that he was therefore glad to be rid of 
 any responsibility in their execution. 
 
 General Lee, on reflection, however, 
 repented of the readiness with which he 
 had granted the request of Lafayette, 
 and strove to get back his command. He 
 wrote to Washington, and, acknowledge 
 
 o t / o 
 
 ing that he had been rash, asked to have 
 his command restored to him. But the 
 commander-in-chief declared that he could 
 not reinstate him without the consent of 
 Lafayette. Lee appealed to the young 
 marquis, who said that, as the command 
 had been yielded to him freely, he was 
 very reluctant to give it up. Lee, how 
 ever, becoming urgent, Lafayette finally 
 consented, provided (as he was now on 
 his march) he did not come up with the 
 enemy during that day. 
 
 In the meantime, Sir Henry Clinton, on 
 inarching from Allentown, had changed 
 the disposition of his army, by placino- 
 the baggage in advance, under the guard 
 
634 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT II. 
 
 of Knyphausen and his Hessians, and his 
 best troops, consisting of the British gren 
 adiers, light-infantry, and chasseurs of the 
 line, under the command of Earl Cornwal- 
 lis, in the rear. Washington, on discov 
 ering this, found it necessary to strength 
 en his advanced corps, and immediately 
 detached Major- General Lee, with two 
 brigades, to form a junction with Lafay 
 ette at English town. This nt once set 
 tled all difficulty between these two offi 
 cers; as Lee, being the higher in rank, 
 on being ordered to reinforce the ad 
 vanced troops, necessarily assumed the 
 general command. Washington s object, 
 in sending Lee with the reinforcement, 
 was, to relieve him of his " uneasiness," 
 which was " rather increasing than aba 
 ting At the same time that I felt for 
 
 General Lee s distress of mind," observed 
 Washington, writing to Lafayette, "I have 
 had an eye to your wishes, and the deli 
 cacy of your situation ; and have there 
 fore obtained a promise from him that, 
 when he gives you notice of his approach 
 and command, he will request you to 
 prosecute any plan you may have already 
 concerted for the purpose of attacking or 
 otherwise annoying the enemy." 
 
 Washington, in the meantime, 
 having lightened his march by 
 leaving his baggage behind, moved on 
 with the rest of the troops, and encamped 
 within three miles of Englishtown, where 
 the advanced corps, now consisting of five 
 thousand men, under the command of 
 General Lee, was posted. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton, on reaching Allen- 
 town, found Washington almost in front; 
 and, not wishing to hazard a battle, he 
 
 June 25. 
 
 June 27. 
 
 changed his original purpose of marching 
 his troops to the Karitan, and embarking 
 them at Brunswick or South Amboy for 
 New York. He now turned to the right, 
 and took the road toward Monmouth, with 
 the intention of proceeding in all haste 
 to Sandy Hook. 
 
 The British, being hindered by their 
 immense baggage and camp-appurtenan 
 ces, fagged by their fatiguing marches in 
 the hot summer weather, and harassed 
 by the skirmishing of the country militia, 
 were slow in their movements. 
 They encamped in a strong po 
 sition, with their right extending about a 
 mile and a half beyond Monmouth court 
 house, and their left along the road from 
 Allentown to the village of Monmouth. 
 Their right flank lay on the skirt of a 
 small wood, while their left was secured 
 by a very thick one. There w r as a morass 
 in their rear, and again another, together 
 with a wood, in their front. 
 
 The position of the enemy was deemed 
 too strong for an attack, and Washington 
 awaited the moment when they should 
 begin to march, to commence operations. 
 He accordingly ordered General Lee to 
 make his disposition for the assault on 
 the British rear as soon as they should 
 get in motion from their present ground. 
 Lee was directed to keep his troops con 
 stantly tying upon their arms, in order to 
 be in readiness at the shortest notice ; for 
 Sir Henry Clinton had only ten or twelve 
 miles to march in advance, to reach the 
 heights of Middletown, where it would be 
 impossible to attempt anything against 
 him with a prospect of success. The at 
 tack, to be made at all, must be made in 
 
TSKVOLTJTIONAHY.J WASHINGTON S ANXIETY. LEE S BEWILDERMENT. 
 
 (335 
 
 the interval of time between his march 
 from his present strong ground to the 
 still stronger one beyond. The greatest 
 alertness was therefore necessary, to seize 
 upon the critical moment. Washington 
 not only enjoined this upon Lee, but took 
 care to secure it on the part of the troops 
 under his immediate command, which he 
 kept in reserve at Cranberry, several miles 
 distant, and was prepared to bring up to 
 sustain the advanced corps so soon as it 
 should have begun its attack on the ene- 
 nry s rear. 
 
 Washington was so anxious lest the 
 British should escape him by decamping 
 unobserved before the break of day, that 
 at midnight he sent word to General Lee 
 to order out a corps of observation. The 
 New-Jersey militia, under General Dick 
 inson were accordingly sent forward, to 
 lie as close as possible to the enemy, in 
 order to watch their movements. At five 
 
 o clock the next morning;, an ex- 
 Juii6 28 
 
 press from Dickinson came into 
 
 Washington s camp, with the intelligence 
 that Sir Henry Clinton s front had begun 
 to move. The day had no sooner broken, 
 than General Knyphausen marched with 
 his long train of baggage and bat-horses, 
 extending ten or twelve miles along the 
 narrow road. It was about eiiHit o clock 
 
 O 
 
 when Sir Henry Clinton followed with the 
 rear, composed of the main body of the 
 army and the choicest troops, under the 
 immediate command of Lord Cornwallis. 
 As soon as he received intelligence of 
 the enemy s march, Washington sent one 
 of his aids to General Lee, with orders to 
 move on and attack them, " unless there 
 should be very powerful reasons to the 
 
 contrary." The commander-in-chief liim- 
 v self, having ordered his men to throw off 
 their packs and blankets, that they might 
 march with the greater rapidity and com 
 fort during that sweltering summer day, 
 immediately advanced to the support of 
 Lee, to whom he had sent due notice of 
 his approach. 
 
 General Lee, on receiving Washing 
 ton s orders, despatched a body of light- 
 troops in advance to skirmish with the 
 enemy, while he moved forward with the 
 brigades of Wayne and Maxwell to sus 
 tain it. In the course of his march, Lee 
 received a variety of contradictory re 
 ports. Now one aid-de-camp rode back 
 with the intelligence that the main body 
 of the British was marching to attack 
 him ; and, again, another brought word 
 that Sir Henry Clinton had moved off in 
 precipitation, and left only a covering- 
 party to protect his retreat! Lee was 
 obliged to manoeuvre accordingly; and, 
 skirmishing as he went, he advanced and 
 retired again and again. At one time, 
 hoping to find the enemy in small force, 
 he crossed the bridge over the morass on 
 his route, in order to attack them ; at an 
 other, fearing that their main body was 
 approaching, he rapidly retired, lest he 
 should be caught in the dangerous posi 
 tion, with a morass in his rear, and only 
 a narrow bridge to cross it. While thus 
 bewildered, Lafayette came up with the 
 main body of Lee s division, which, when 
 united with the advanced troops, formed 
 a force (exclusive of Morgan s corps and 
 the New-Jersey militia,, then out skirmish 
 ing) of about four thousand men. Thus 
 reinforced, Lee pushed forward until he 
 
03 6 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 reached the plains of Monmouth. on the 
 edi^e of which, and within the cover of a 
 
 o 
 
 wood, he formed his line, that it might 
 be concealed from the view of the Brit 
 ish. 
 
 General Lee, accompanied by Wayne, 
 now rode out to reconnoitre ; and, from 
 his own observations, and the intelligence 
 received from his scouts, he concluded 
 that the troops of the enemy which he 
 saw were only a covering-party, and that 
 there was a sufficient distance between 
 them and their main body to allow of a 
 chance to cut them off. Lee formed his 
 plans accordingly. lie sent off Wayne, 
 with seven hundred men and two field- 
 pieces, to attack them in the rear, but not 
 with such impetuosity as to drive them 
 either to seek safety by a junction with 
 their main body in advance, or to cause 
 reinforcements to be sent to their aid. 
 Lee himself proposed to take them with 
 a strong force in front, and strove accord 
 ingly to carry out his purpose by leading 
 his men along a short and cross route by 
 which he expected to intercept the en 
 emy. 
 
 Full of confidence in his plan, the gen 
 eral was riding at the head of his troops, 
 and hurrying on their march, when he 
 was accosted by an aid-de-camp of Wash 
 ington, who rode up for intelligence. Lee 
 was in high spirits, and his face beamed 
 with an expression of confident success, 
 while with a firm tone of voice he told 
 the aid-de-camp to inform his excellency 
 that the rear of the enemy was composed 
 of only fifteen hundred or two thousand 
 men, and that they did not seem to un 
 derstand the roads that the route he was 
 
 on cut off* two miles of distance; that he 
 expected to fall in with them, and felt 
 great certainty of cutting them off; and 
 that General Wayne and Colonel Butler 
 were amusing them with a few loose shot 
 while he was inarching to the attack. 
 
 As Wayne approached and prepared to 
 skirmish with the rear of the enemy, a 
 party of British dragoons were seen pa 
 rading as though they were about charg 
 ing the American light-horsemen in ad 
 vance, when General Lee s aid-de-camp 
 rode forward and suggested to the officer 
 in command of the latter, to appear to 
 await the attack, and then at the last 
 moment to retire toward General Wayne 
 and allow him to receive it. This ma 
 noeuvre succeeded : the British dragoons 
 made the charge, and, while in pursuit of 
 the retreating; American horsemen, came 
 
 o 
 
 within the fire of Wayne s troops, when 
 they were suddenly compelled to wheel 
 round and gallop back. 
 
 General Wayne s men now pushed on 
 with fixed bayonets, and charged the en 
 emy with such spirit, that Lee sent word, 
 in order to check his impetuosity, that lie 
 (Wayne) was only to feign an attack, or 
 
 \ i/ / / o / 
 
 otherwise he would spoil his game. Colo 
 nel Oswald, in command of the artillery, 
 observing the impression which Wayne s 
 charge had made upon the British, be 
 lieved that they were about retreating, 
 and hurried forward with his two field- 
 pieces across the morass in front, and, 
 planting them on some high ground on 
 the other side, commenced a cannonade. 
 Wayne was disappointed by the check 
 which he received in the orders of Lee, 
 but he obeyed them; although, with his 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] GENERAL LEE S DISGRACEFUL RETREAT. 
 
 637 
 
 usual sanguineness of temper, lie believed 
 that his obedience had cost him an almost 
 certain victory. He, however, waited in 
 the hope that Lee, by a vigorous blow in 
 front, would retrieve the loss. 
 
 General Lee, however, was proceeding 
 with caution ; and, as he approached the 
 British, instead of coming: forward at once 
 
 O 
 
 with his whole force and striking a rapid 
 blow, his troops made their appearance 
 emerging from the woods in separate de 
 tachments. The enemy were drawn up 
 to receive him, and, as Lee was formin<- 
 
 o 
 
 his line, their cavalry began to manoeuvre 
 in the direction of the American riirht. 
 
 O 
 
 Lafayette s ardentand youthful spirit was 
 much chafed by General Lee s cautious 
 movements, and, eager for action, he at 
 this movement begged to be permitted 
 to try to get to the rear of the enemy. 
 "Sir," answered Lee, -you do not know 
 British soldiers ; we can not stand against 
 them; we shall be certainly driven back 
 at first, and we must be cautious." "It 
 may be so, general," responded the young 
 marquis, "but British soldiers have been 
 beaten, and may be beaten again ; at any 
 rate, 1 am disposed to make the attempt." 
 Lee so far yielded to the desire of the 
 impulsive Frenchman as to allow him to 
 wheel his column to the right, for the 
 purpose of attacking the enemy s left 
 flank. 
 
 Lafayette seems to have been so much 
 dissatisfied with Lee s conduct, that he 
 took the occasion of the riding up of one 
 of Washington s aids-de-camp to send back 
 word to the commander-in-chief that his 
 presence on the ground was absolutely 
 necessary. Lee continued to act with 
 
 the same deliberate circumspection, and 
 seemed by no means impatient for action. 
 While reconnoitring, the enemy were dis 
 covered to be in so much greater num 
 bers than he expected, that Lee acknowl 
 edged that he had been mistaken in their 
 strength. Sir Henry Clinton, moreover, 
 was making preparations for a vigorous 
 attack upon the Americans in his rear, 
 with the view of forcing them to call to 
 their aid Dickinson with his militia and 
 Morgan with his rifle-corps, who were se 
 verely harassing the British van, which 
 was marching with the ba^ini^e. While 
 
 O o O O 
 
 Lee was cautiously manoeuvring, to pre 
 pare to meet the enemy, a confusion took 
 place, either in his orders or in the under 
 standing of them by his subordinate offi 
 cers : one whole brigade having retreat 
 ed when it had been ordered merely to 
 fall back, the rest of the troops followed 
 in disorder, pursued by the British. 
 
 General Washington, in the meantime, 
 was pushing on to the support of Lee. 
 When he reached the church at Free 
 hold, where two roads joined, General 
 Greene with the right wing took one, in 
 order to prevent a flank-movement on the 
 part of Sir Henry Clinton ; while Wash 
 ington led the rest of the force along the 
 other directly to the rear of General Lee, 
 who was supposed to be at that time en 
 gaged with the enemy. This disposition 
 having been made, the march had hardly 
 been resumed, when a countryman was 
 met, with intelligence that the continen 
 tal troops were in full retreat. Washing 
 ton could not believe it, as he had re 
 ceived from Lee such an encouraging ac 
 count of his prospects, and there had been 
 
638 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n, 
 
 June 28, 
 
 no indication of an engagement, beyond 
 the sound of a cannon or two. Soon, how 
 ever, others- came up with the 
 same report ; and finally the re 
 treating troops themselves followed. 
 
 "The conviction that Lee was a TRAI 
 TOR," says Lossing, " and that this retreat 
 was the first bitter fruit of his treason, 
 now flashed upon the mind of Washing 
 ton. Already the belief that he was un 
 true, and a dangerous man in the army, 
 had been forced upon the consideration 
 of many officers; but, until the previous 
 evening, the generous heart of the com 
 mand er-in-chief would not harbor such a 
 suspicion. Late at night, the Reverend 
 David Griffiths, a Welshman, and chap 
 lain of the third Virginia regiment, had 
 repaired to headquarters, and warned the 
 chief, in presence of Hamilton, Harrison, 
 and Fitzgerald, not to employ General 
 Lee in commanding the advance on the 
 ensuing morning. Washington received 
 the warning doubtingly ; when the rev 
 erend gentleman, on retiring, observed, 1 
 am not permitted to say more at present, 
 but your excellency will remember my warning 
 voice lo-morrov.^ in the battle / Now that 
 warning voice, Lee s opposition to attack 
 ing Clinton at all, and his changefulness 
 respecting the command of the advance, 
 all combined to make Washington feel 
 that Lee had ordered this retreat for the 
 purpose of marring his plans, and disgra 
 cing him by the loss of a battle, so as to 
 fulfil the traitor s own predictions of its 
 failure." 
 
 Washington accosted each officer as 
 he rode up, ordering him to halt his men. 
 and asking him for an explanation of what 
 
 seemed so incomprehensible. He could 
 get no satisfactory answer, and therefore 
 determined to seek out General Lee him 
 self. Putting spurs to his horse, he gal 
 loped rapidly along the road until he 
 reached an ascent, from which he caught 
 a glimpse of Lee, with the remainder of 
 his troops, coming on in full retreat. The 
 commander-in-chief was greatly troubled 
 at what had occurred, and, holding Lee 
 responsible, could not, on meeting him, 
 contain his indignation. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this, sir ?" he 
 demanded of Lee, looking at him sternly, 
 and speaking with angry emphasis. "1 
 desire to know, sir, the meaning of this 
 disorder and confusion !" repeated Wash 
 ington, before the recreant general could 
 sufficiently recover himself from the ef 
 fect of being thus accosted, to reply. 
 
 Lee now in turn gave issue to his own 
 temper, and answered fiercely, while he 
 hurriedly strove to justify his conduct, 
 saying that he had not been disposed to 
 face the whole British army with such a 
 force as he had. 
 
 " I have certain information," replied 
 Washington, " that it was only a cover 
 ing-party." 
 
 " Covering-party or not," declared Lee, 
 " it was stronger than mine, and I was 
 not disposed to run the risk." 
 
 " I am very sorry, then." rejoined Wash- 
 ington/ thatyou undertook the command, 
 unless you meant to light the enemy." 
 
 " I did not think it prudent to bring on 
 a general engagement," retorted Lee. 
 
 " Whatever your opinion may have 
 been, I expected my orders would have 
 been obeyed," said Washington. During 
 
UEVOLUTIONAKY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF MONMOUTH. 
 
 639 
 
 this brief interview, the enraged chief is 
 said, on the authority of Lafayette, to 
 have called Lee "a damned poltroon;" 
 and the marquis observed that this was 
 the only instance in which he ever heard 
 the general swear. The ardent Hamil 
 ton, too, who also remembered the chap 
 lain s warning, here dismounted, and, un 
 sheathing his sword, addressed Washing 
 ton : " Your excellency and this army are 
 betrayed; and the moment has arrived 
 when every true friend of America and 
 her cause must be ready to die in their 
 defence !"* 
 
 There was no time for further alterca 
 tion, as the British were rapidly pressing 
 forward in pursuit of the fugitives. Wash 
 ington rode off hastily to the extreme 
 rear of the retreating troops. Taking a 
 rapid survey of the ground, and finding 
 it favorable for forming, the chief ordered 
 the battalions of Colonel Stewart and 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Ramsay to face about 
 and march to the left, where, under the 
 cover of the wood, they might be some 
 what protected from the enemy s artille 
 ry, and also be enabled to check their ad 
 vance. 
 
 General Lee, on being told by one of 
 his aids that Washington had taken the 
 command of his division, said, "Then I 
 have nothing further to do ;" and, turning 
 his horse, he rode back to where the com- 
 mander-in-chief was forming a front out 
 of the rear of the retreating troops to op 
 pose the enemy s approach. As he came 
 up, Washington asked: 
 
 " Will you command on this ground or 
 not? If you will, 1 will return to the 
 
 * Lossin<c. 
 
 main body, and have them formed on 
 the next height." 
 
 " It is equal with me where I com 
 mand," was Lee s reply. 
 
 " I expect you will take proper meas 
 ures for checking the enemy," said Wash 
 ington, emphatically. 
 
 " Your orders shall be obeyed," prompt 
 ly answered Lee, "and I will not be the 
 first to leave the field !" 
 
 Washington now hurried back to the 
 main body, which he formed on a height, 
 with a morass in front, and between him 
 and Lee s advanced division. He had 
 hardly gone, when the British brought 
 up their artillery, and began a severe can 
 nonade on Lee s right, which was, howev 
 er, well returned by the Americans. At 
 the same time the enemy pushed forward 
 their light-horse, which, making an im 
 petuous charge, followed by a large body 
 of light-infantry, drove the battalions of 
 Stewart and Rarnsay before them. 
 
 The engagement now became hot be 
 tween the British and Varnum s brigade 
 united with Livingston s regiment, which 
 had been stationed in front of the bridge 
 across the morass, in order to cover the 
 retreat of the artillery and the advanced 
 troops. They, too, were obliged to give 
 way before a charge of the enemy, but 
 retired in good order. Lee, having post 
 ed Colonel Ogden in a wood near the 
 bridge, ordered him to defend it to the 
 last extremity, and remained in person 
 on the ground until the orderly retreat 
 of his whole force was secured, when he 
 himself crossed the bridge, and rode up 
 to Washington. "Sir," said Lee, "here 
 are my troops : how is it your pleasure 
 
640 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 that I should dispose of them ?" As they 
 were jaded by the day s work, the coni- 
 
 mander-in-chief ordered them to 
 June 28. . , 
 
 to be marched to the rear, in the 
 
 neighborhood of Englishtown, that they 
 might be refreshed by repose. 
 
 While the enemy were thus checked 
 by Lee s division, Washington had an op 
 portunity of forming his line, with care 
 ful deliberation. Lord Stirling command 
 ed the left wing, where he had posted 
 some heavy artillery ; and Greene, when 
 he discovered Lee s early retreat, had 
 changed the direction of his march, and 
 was now posted with his whole force on 
 his lordship s right. 
 
 The British continued to advance in 
 front, but Earl Stirling soon checked them 
 with his artillery, and by detachments of 
 infantry pushed forward to oppose them. 
 They then attempted to turn his flank, 
 but were repulsed. A movement toward 
 the American front proved equally un 
 successful ; for Greene had advanced a 
 body of troops, and Knox with his artil 
 lery , to take possession of some rising 
 ground in advance, by which the design 
 of the enemy was checked, and their en 
 tire front enfiladed. General Wayne, as 
 usual, among the most active with his 
 brigade, having been posted in an orchard 
 close to the foe, when Colonel Monckton, 
 of the British grenadiers, determined to 
 make an effort to drive him off. So, form 
 ing his men in close ranks, he ordered 
 them to charge with the bayonet. Wayne 
 bade his men withhold their fire until the 
 enemy should be close up. On they came, 
 with their colonel at their head, waving 
 his sword, and shouting to his men, when 
 
 the Americans opened their fire, and the 
 brave Monckton fell amid heaps of his 
 slaughtered grenad iers. 
 
 The British now fell back to the posi 
 tion occupied by General Lee in the 
 morning. Here their flanks were secured 
 by thick woods and morasses, while their 
 front could only be approached through 
 a narrow pass. Washington was not dis 
 posed, how r ever, well covered as they ap 
 peared to be, to let them escape without 
 another attempt to get at them. lie ac 
 cordingly ordered General Poor, with his 
 own and the Carolina brigade, to move 
 toward their right, General Woodford to 
 their left, and the artillery to be brought 
 up so as to gall them in front. But be 
 fore this disposition could be made, the 
 day was well spent; and the men were 
 so fatigued by their marching and coun 
 termarching in the sandy Jersey soil, and 
 so prostrated by the excessive heat (the 
 day being one of the most sultry of the 
 whole season), that it was determined to 
 
 postpone the attack till the next 
 
 1 . . June 29, 
 
 morning. Ihe troops were ac 
 cordingly ordered to lie upon their arms, 
 in order to be in readiness for action at 
 the earliest moment ; while the general- 
 in-chief himself wrapped his cloak about 
 him and lay down, with the young mar 
 quis de Lafayette by his side, at the foot 
 of a tree, talking over the events of the 
 day, until they both sought, in a short 
 night s sleep, refreshment for the expect 
 ed struggle of the coming morning. 
 
 Thus ended the battle of Monmouth, 
 which was one of the most hotly-contest 
 ed of the war, and in which great skill 
 was exhibited on both sides. 
 

REVOLUTIONARY.] RETREAT OF THE BRITISH. LOSSES AT MONMOUTH. 
 
 641 
 
 CHAPTER LXXI. 
 
 The Dawn of Morning, The Enemy gone. Pursuit impracticable. Fresh Graves. Losses on Both Sides. Loss of 
 the British from Heat and Desertion. Their March through New Jersey. Washington moves toward the North 
 River. A Painful March. Horses dying in Troops. A Refreshing Halt at Brunswick. Court-Martial on General 
 Lee. His Letter to Washington. lie complains of " Cruel Injustice." Washington s Answer. Lee s Rejoinder. 
 Postponement of the Trial. Lee s Skilful Defence. He is found guilty. The Verdict. Confirmed by Congress. 
 Lee s Duel with Laurens. Version of Lee. His Retirement to Virginia. His Morose and Secluded Life. His 
 Eccentricity. His Death. His Singular Will. A Traitor? Justification of Washington. 
 
 1778, 
 
 THE morning came, and the Amer 
 ican troops were aroused to arms 
 by the early beat of drum; but the ene 
 my had disappeared. Sir Henry Clinton, 
 having employed the early part of the 
 night in burying some of his dead, and 
 collecting his wounded, marched off at 
 twelve o clock, and with such cautious 
 silence, that the most advanced of the 
 American outposts had not the least sus 
 picion of the movement. Nothing was 
 
 left of the whole army in the 
 June 29, . J 
 
 morning but lourollicers and ror- 
 
 ty soldiers, who had been so severely 
 wounded, that they could not be carried 
 oil! 
 
 The extreme heat of the weather, the 
 continued fatigue of the men from their 
 march through a low, sandy country, al 
 most destitute of water, and the distance 
 which the British had gained by their se 
 cret march in the night, made a pursuit 
 impracticable. Washington was particu 
 larly apprehensive of the fatal effects of 
 the excessive heat. Many of the men in 
 both armies had fallen dead on the field, 
 without a shot, while exposed to the hot 
 glare of the noonday sun. 
 81 
 
 The enemy left two hundred and forty- 
 five non-commissioned officers and pri 
 vates dead on the field of Monmouth, and 
 four officers, among whom was the gal 
 lant Colonel Monckton, of the grenadiers. 
 There were also several fresh graves ob 
 served, where in their haste they had bu 
 ried some of their dead ; and more than 
 a hundred prisoners were taken. " Fifty- 
 nine of their soldiers," says Lossing, " per 
 ished by the heat. They were found un 
 der trees and by rivulets, whither they 
 had crept for shade and water, without a 
 wound." A large number of wounded 
 were carried off with them during the 
 action, and until midnight, when, as Wash 
 ington said, " they stole off as silent as 
 the grave." 
 
 The American loss was, seven officers 
 and fifty-two rank and file killed, and sev 
 enteen officers and a hundred and twen 
 ty privates wounded. The only two im 
 portant officers who suffered were LieiN 
 tenant-Colonel Briuiier, of Pennsylvania, 
 and Major Dickinson, of Virginia. 
 
 The British, in their inarch through 
 New Jersey, suffered a loss, including the 
 lesertions, which was estimated in all at 
 
642 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 about two thousand men. More than six 
 hundred deserters went back to Philadel 
 phia, and many joined the American ar 
 my. One of the German regiments was 
 considered so disaffected, that Sir Henry 
 Clinton did not venture to trust it on 
 land, and accordingly sent it to New York 
 by sea from Philadelphia, while he took 
 up his march through New Jersey. The 
 British were now left almost uninterrupt 
 ed to pursue their way to Sandy Hook, 
 and thence to New York, where they en 
 camped in the vicinity of the city. 
 
 Washington, having left the New-Jer 
 sey brigade, Morgan s corps, and some 
 other light parties behind him, to hover 
 about the enemy, in order to countenance 
 desertions from their ranks, and as far as 
 possible to prevent depredations, moved 
 on the rest of his army through New- Jer 
 sey toward the North river, with the in 
 tention of forming a junction with Gen 
 eral Gates, then in command at Fishkill. 
 The march from English town to 
 Brunswick was " inconceivably 
 distressing to the troops and horses." The 
 route lay for twenty miles through a deep 
 sand, during the extrernest heat of the 
 season, while there was but one shallow 
 stream, throughout the whole distance, 
 where a drop of water could be obtained. 
 Some of the men died and many were dis 
 abled in consequence, and the horses fell 
 dead in troops. Upon the " airy, open 
 grounds" in the neighborhood of Bruns 
 wick, Washington, though eager to pur 
 sue his march, now halted his army for a 
 week, that his men might obtain the re 
 pose and refreshment they so greatly re 
 quired. 
 
 June 30, 
 
 July 4, 
 
 At Brunswick the court-mar 
 tial first assembled which was 
 appointed to try General Lee on the fol 
 lowing charges: 
 
 "First. Disobedience of orders, in not 
 attacking the enemy on the 28th of June, 
 agreeably to repeated instructions. 
 
 "Secondly. Misbehavior before the ene 
 my on the same day, by making an unne 
 cessary, disorderly, and shameful retreat. 
 
 "Thirdly. Disrespect to the command- 
 er-in-chief, in two letters, dated the 1st 
 of July and the 28th of June." 
 
 The irascible Lee was so provoked by 
 the angry reprimand of Washington for 
 his retreat at Monmonth, that, unable to 
 control his temper, he wrote a letter 1o 
 the commander-in-chief, in which he in 
 dulged in personal reflections such as no 
 superior officer could, with a proper re 
 gard to his own dignity, pass by without 
 rebuke. " From the knowledge I have 
 of your excellency s character," wrote 
 Lee, "I must conclude that nothing but 
 the misinformation of some very stupid 
 or misrepresentation of some very wicked 
 person could have occasioned your ma 
 king use of so very singular expressions 
 as you did on my coming up to the ground 
 where you had taken post. They implied 
 that I was guilty either of disobedience 
 of orders, want of conduct, or want of 
 courage. Your excellency will therefore 
 infinitely oblige me by letting me know on 
 which of these three articles you ground 
 your charge, that I may prepare for my 
 justification, which I have the happiness 
 to be confident I can do to the army, to 
 the Congress, to America, and to the world 
 in general." 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] TRIAL AND CONVICTION OF GENERAL LEE. 
 
 Lee then, with his usual self-sufficiency, 
 having not only justified his retreat, but 
 claimed for it the merit of having saved 
 the day, took occasion, after telling Wash 
 ington that he thought him "endowed 
 with many great and good qualities," to 
 complain that he had been " guilty of an 
 act of cruel injustice toward a man who 
 certainly has some pretensions to the re 
 gard of every servant of this country. . . . 
 And I think, sir," added Lee, "I have a 
 right to demand some reparation for the 
 injury committed ; and, unless I can ob 
 tain it, I must in justice to myself, when 
 this campaign is closed, which I believe 
 will close the war, retire from a service, 
 at the head of which is placed a man ca 
 pable of offering such injuries. But at 
 the same time, in justice to you, I must 
 repeat that I from my soul believe that 
 it was not a motion of your own breast, 
 but instigated by some of those dirty ear 
 wigs, who will for ever insinuate them 
 selves near persons in high office." 
 
 Washington wrote firmly in answer, 
 telling Lee that his letter was, as he con 
 ceived, expressed in terms highly improp 
 er, and that he was not conscious of hav 
 ing made use of any very singular ex 
 pressions at the time of meeting him da- 
 ing his retreat. " What I recollect to have 
 said," added Washington, " was dictated 
 by duty and warranted by the occasion." 
 He closed by promising him the oppor 
 tunity which he had asked for justifying 
 himself. 
 
 Lee petulantly rejoined, saying : " You 
 can not afford me greater pleasure than 
 in giving me the opportunity of showing 
 to America the sufficiency of her respec 
 
 tive servants. I trust that temporary 
 power of office, and the tinsel dignity at 
 tending it, will not be able, by all the 
 mists they can raise, to obfuscate the 
 bright rays of truth." 
 
 General Lee was now arrested and 
 tried. The court-martial was convened 
 as early as the 4th of July, but its ses 
 sions were interrupted by the movement 
 of the army, and it did not come to a de 
 cision until the 12th of August. Lord 
 Stirling was president, and the rest of the 
 court was composed of a major-general, 
 four brigadiers, and eight colonels. Lee 
 defended himself with great skill. He 
 contended that, as his orders were discre 
 tionary, he could not be justly charged 
 with disobedience. In regard to the re 
 treat, he declared that he did not wish or 
 give any orders for a retrograde manoeu 
 vre from the first point of action, adding : 
 "Even when I was informed of our left 
 being abandoned, the retreat, however 
 necessary, was, I am ashamed to own it, 
 done contrary to my orders and contrary 
 to my intentions. He claimed that, in 
 falling back and taking the ground that 
 he intended when his division was reti 
 ring, the enemy would probably have 
 been drawn from a good position, and 
 the advantage given to the Americans. 
 The weak point in Lee s conduct was the 
 fact of his not having sent word to Wash 
 ington of the retreat of his troops by 
 which neglect the safety of the whole 
 army was hazarded. This looked either 
 like premeditated injury or uncontrolla 
 ble confusion. 
 
 General Lee was found guilty of all 
 the charges, though in the second the ex- 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART u. 
 
 Dec. 5, 
 
 pression " shameful" was omitted, and the 
 term " disorderly" mitigated by the inser 
 tion of " in some instances." The sentence 
 was, suspension from all command in the 
 armies of the United States for the term 
 of twelve months. 
 
 The finding of the court was now re 
 ferred to Congress for its action. Lee 
 went to Philadelphia at the time, and was 
 not a little wounded in spirit to find his 
 old popularity so much on the wane, that, 
 although he had still strong friends, the 
 majority of the members were evidently 
 against him. He strove to better his 
 cause, by writing a clever defence, which 
 he termed " General Lee s Vindication to the 
 Public." The opinion of Congress was, 
 however, unfavorable ; and in an 
 exceedingly thin house, fifteen 
 voted in the affirmative and seven in the 
 negative, thus confirming the decision of 
 the court-martial. 
 
 General Lee s temper was not improved 
 by these adverse circumstances. He be 
 came greatly embittered against Wash 
 ington, and took every occasion to rail at 
 him and his military conduct. The lat 
 ter remained in stoical indifference ; but 
 one of his aids, Colonel Laurens, was hot 
 and young enough to take up the quar 
 rel, and wrote to Lee, declaring that, in 
 contempt of decency and truth, he had 
 " publicly abused General Washington in 
 the grossest terms," and that the relation 
 in which he (Laurens) stood to him for 
 bade him to pass such conduct unnoticed. 
 He therefore demanded the satisfaction 
 which he was entitled to ; and desired 
 that, as soon as General Lee should think 
 himself at liberty, he would appoint time 
 
 and place for a hostile meeting, and name 
 his weapons." 
 
 Lee did not hesitate to accept the chal 
 lenge, and, taking advantage of his privi 
 lege, as the challenged party, of choosing 
 his weapons, he selected pistols instead 
 of the smallsword, in the use of which he 
 was a great adept, but which he now de 
 clined in consequence of being in a some- 
 wluit weak state of body, on account of a 
 fall from his horse, and a recent fit of the 
 gout. His courage was undoubted, and 
 Lee bore himself in the encounter with 
 cool intrepidity. His antagonist, however, 
 proved the better shot, and wounded him 
 slightly in the side. 
 
 Lee was especially envenomed against 
 the members of Congress who were prom 
 inent in favor of confirming the decision 
 of the court-rnartial ; and William Henry 
 Drayton, of South Carolina, drew upon 
 himself the most concentrated bitterness 
 of the wrathful general, who tells him in 
 a letter, " I find that you are as malignant 
 a scoundrel as you are universally allowed 
 to be a ridiculous and disgusting coxcomb." 
 
 tJ e7 
 
 Again, he says : " You tell me the Ameri 
 cans are the most merciful people on the 
 face of the earth. I think so too ; and 
 the strongest instance of it is, that they 
 did not long ago hang you up, and every advo 
 cate for the stamp-act. And do not Hatter 
 yourself that the present virtuous airs of 
 patriotism you may give yourself, and 
 your hard-labored letters to the commis 
 sioners and the king, will ever wash away 
 the stain. If you think the terms I make 
 use of harsh or unmerited, my friend Ma 
 jor Edwards is commissioned to point out 
 your remedy." 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] RETIREMENT AND DEATH OF GENERAL LEE. 
 
 645 
 
 Lee was not indulged in his wish for 
 another duel, but was allowed to retire 
 to his plantation in Berkeley county, in 
 Virginia, and there in solitude nurse his 
 discontent. But he nevertheless still ex 
 hibited his malevolence toward Washing 
 ton, by publishing his " Queries., Political 
 and Military" in which there was a labored 
 attempt to depreciate the military quali 
 fications and conduct of the commander- 
 in-chief. When the " Queries" were sent 
 to the publishers of the Philadelphia pa 
 pers, they refused to publish them; but 
 they were finally printed in the "Mary 
 land Journal" of Baltimore. Their publi 
 cation caused a storm of indignation, and 
 the deeply-incensed people insisted upon 
 the name of the author of the gross li 
 bels. Lee now became an object of al 
 most universal scorn.* 
 
 The spirit of the fallen general contin 
 ued to grow more and more irritable and 
 morose. Having heard a rumor that he 
 was to be deprived of his commission at 
 the close of the term for which he was 
 suspended, Lee, without waiting to ascer 
 tain the truth or falsity of the report, 
 wrote an insulting letter to the president 
 of Congress, saying : " Sir, I understand 
 that it is in contemplation of Congress, 
 on the principle of economy, to strike me 
 out of their service. Congress must know 
 very little of me, if they suppose that I 
 would accept of their money, since the con 
 firmation of the wicked and infamous sentence 
 
 * Among the " Queries," twenty-five in number, arc the 
 following, showing the malignant spirit which animated the 
 whole : " Whether it is salutary or dangerous, consistent 
 with or abhorrent from the spirit and principles of liberty 
 and republicanism, to inculcate and encourage in the people 
 an idea that their welfare, safety, and glory, depend on one 
 man ? Whether they really do depend on one man ?" 
 
 which ivas passed upon me"* This was re 
 ceived in high dudgeon by Congress, and 
 provoked that body to do the very act 
 which it been unjustly suspected of in 
 tending: Lee was summarily dismissed 
 from the army. He now hid himself from 
 all public observation, slinking away in 
 his half-ruined house on his Virginia es 
 tate, and avoiding all companionship but 
 that of his horses and dogs. " His dwel 
 ling," says his biographer, " was more 
 like a barn than a palace. Glass-windows 
 and plastering would have been luxuri 
 ous extravagance, and his furniture con 
 sisted of a very few necessary articles." 
 Without partitions, the one apartment 
 of the house was divided into parts by 
 lines of chalk ; and the eccentric old cam 
 paigner, as he looked upon his bed in one 
 corner, his guns, whips, and saddles, in 
 another, his library in a third, and his 
 kitchen in a fourth, congratulated him 
 self that he could sit and oversee the 
 whole without moving from his chair! 
 Thus he lived for several years, until he 
 found that hoeing tobacco, as he termed 
 it, was rapidly bringing him into debt. 
 He now removed to Philadelphia, where 
 he took lodgings at an inn in Market 
 street, known by the sign of " The Connes- 
 tijoe Wayyon" A few days after his arri 
 val, he was attacked by a fever, which 
 proved fatal, and he died on the 2d of 
 October, 1782. The last words which the 
 veteran was heard to utter in his delirium 
 (doubtless inspired by the flickering re 
 membrance of his European campaigns) 
 were, "Stand by inc., my brave grenadiers /" 
 
 * Subsequently, however, on learning that the report wag 
 without foundation, he offered an apology to Congress. 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PABT II. 
 
 In his will, General Lee showed his 
 gratitude to those friends who had been 
 faithful to him through all the vicissitudes 
 of his strange career. Among his old aids- 
 de-camp he divided his landed estate and 
 distributed most of his horses, his " brood 
 mares and his fillies," of which he had a 
 choice variety. To his " old and faithful 
 servant, or rather humble friend, Guiseppi 
 Minghini," he bequeathed three hundred 
 guineas, to his housekeeper one hundred 
 and his stock of cattle, with all his negroes 
 to be divided equally between the two. 
 He also took care to leave money to buy 
 "rings of affection" for this and that friend 
 in whose memory he desired still to lin- 
 
 This characteristic request closed the 
 will : " I desire most earnestly that I may 
 not be buried in any church or church 
 yard, or uithin a mile of any Presbyterian or 
 Anabaptist meetinghouse ; for, since I have 
 resided in this country, I have kept so 
 much bad company when living, that I do 
 not choose to continue it when dead. ::: 
 
 "I recommend my soul to the Creator 
 of all worlds and of all creatures ; who 
 must, from his visible attributes, be indif 
 ferent to their modes of worship or creeds 
 whether Christians, Mohammedans, or 
 Jews ; whether instilled by education or 
 taken up by reflection ; whether more or 
 less absurd ; as a weak mortal can no 
 more be answerable for his persuasions, 
 notions, or even skepticism, in religion, 
 than for the color of his skin." 
 
 * Notwithstanding this expressed wish, Lee was interred 
 in Christ churchyard, at Philadelphia, with military honors, 
 and in presence of a large assemblage of the people, drawn 
 together more by curiosity than veneration, to look upon the 
 remains of one_whose life had been so eventful 
 
 Lee passed away under a cloud which 
 has perhaps for ever obscured his charac 
 ter and motives. His conduct at Mon- 
 mouth has been differently appreciated. 
 At the time, most men were of the opin 
 ion that it was actuated by envy of Wash 
 ington, whom he had hopes of supplant 
 ing in the chief command, if, by thwarting 
 his purposes, he could make it appear 
 that the general-in-chief was unequal to 
 his position. Others have not hesitated 
 to charge Lee witli treasonable designs, 
 and have connected with his conduct at 
 Monmouth an incident which occurred a 
 short time previously: 
 
 "Soon after General Lee rejoined the 
 army at Valley Forge," says Sparks, " a 
 curious incident occurred. By order of 
 Congress, General Washington was re 
 quired to administer the oath of allegi 
 ance to the general officers. The major- 
 generals stood around Washington, and 
 took hold of a bible together, according 
 to the usual custom ; but just as he began 
 to administer the oath, Lee deliberately 
 withdrew his hand twice. This move 
 ment was so singular, and was performed 
 in so odd a manner, that the officers smiled, 
 and Washington inquired the meaning of 
 his hesitancy. Lee replied : As to King 
 George, 1 am ready enough to absolve 
 myself from all allegiance to him; but I 
 have some scruples about the prince of 
 Wales. The strangeness of this reply 
 was such, that the officers burst into a 
 broad laugh, and even Washington could 
 not refrain from a smile. The ceremony 
 was, of course, interrupted. It was re 
 newed as soon as a composure was re 
 stored proper for the solemnity of the oc 
 
REVOLUTIONARY] CHARACTER OF LEE. HIS TREASON PROVED. 
 
 647 
 
 ensiori, and Lee took the oath with the 
 other officers."* 
 
 While most men attributed Lee s con 
 duct at Monmouth to envy, and some to 
 treason, there were others who justified 
 it, as the general himself strove to do, on 
 the score of its propriety. Even Marshall, 
 the impartial judge, declares that the rea- 
 
 * A document, found among the papers of Lord and Sir 
 William Howe, has lately come into the possession of the 
 New-York Historical Society, which proves that Lee was 
 guilty of an act of treason while a prisoner at New York, 
 whatever may have heen his conduct before or after. This 
 document is in the handwriting of the general, and is en 
 dorsed " LEE S PLAN, 1777," by Strachey, the secretary of 
 Lord and Sir William Howe. It contains an elaborate plan 
 for a campaign against the Americans, by which the war, 
 as the writer of the document says, " may be effectually put 
 an end to." The paper was evidently drawn up for the 
 benefit of the enemy, and submitted to the Howes, while 
 Lee was a captive in New York. He proposed an expedi 
 tion against New England, so as to keep the inhabitants 
 there at home, and make it an easy matter for the British to 
 hold possession of New York and the Jerseys. He suggest 
 ed that, simultaneously with this movement eastward, a con 
 siderable force should be sent up the Chesapeake bay, to 
 land at and take possession of Annapolis, and march into 
 the interior of Maryland as far as Queen Anne county. An- 
 . other was to be despatched up the Potomac, and take pos 
 session of Alexandria, when the two invading armies might 
 form a junction ; while a third should ascend the Delaware 
 and capture Philadelphia. The middle states would now 
 be in subjection, and New England and the southern states 
 would be too wide apart to act in efficient concert. " These 
 things accomplished," adds Mr. Lossing, " and the system 
 of resistance dismembered, all that would be necessary, to 
 insure a complete subjugation of the revolted states to the 
 crown, would be the issuing of proclamations of pardon to 
 all who should desert the republican standard, and return 
 to their allegiance to King George." The paper seems to 
 have had its effect, for the subsequent southern campaign 
 of the British accorded witli the views set forth by Lee in 
 his plan, upon the success of which he emphatically declares 
 that he is ready to stake his life. With this document the 
 treason of General Lee is proved beyond a doubt; and his 
 conduct at Monmouth was doubtless prompted by a desire 
 to throw the game into the hands of the enemy, to whose 
 interest while at New York he had pledged himself. (This 
 " plan" of Lee was discovered at the close of 1857, among 
 some papers said to have been brought from Nova Scotia, 
 and offered for sale in New York. It was published in 1859 
 under the auspices of Professor George H. Moore, the libra 
 rian of the Historical Society.) 
 
 sons given by Lee for his retreat were 
 such that, "if they do not absolutely es 
 tablish its propriety, they give it so ques 
 tionable a form as to render it probable 
 that a public examination never would 
 have taken place, could his proud spirit 
 have stooped to offer explanation instead 
 of outrage to the commander-in-chief." 
 
 It has been inferred, from the fact that 
 Washington, after Lee s retreat, and hav 
 ing temporarily deprived him of his com 
 mand, should have immediately reinstated 
 him on the field, that therefore it was his 
 intention to have overlooked his conduct, 
 until he was provoked into noticing it by 
 Lee s insolent letters. This supposition, 
 however, seems so to belittle the motives 
 of Washington, by giving them a person 
 al character, that it is surprising that his 
 torians have ventured thus to dishonor 
 the great man. 
 
 " I will defy any person out of my own 
 family," said Washington himself, " to say 
 that I have ever mentioned his name, if 
 it w r as to be avoided ; and when not, that 
 I have studiously declined expressing any 
 sentiment of him or his behavior." Lee 
 did his utmost to provoke recrimination, 
 but Washington passed by his malevo 
 lence without notice, declaring : " I have 
 neither the leisure nor inclination to en 
 ter the lists with him in a newspaper; 
 and, so far as his production points to 
 personality, I can and do from my inmost 
 soul despise it." Lee havjng by will left 
 his papers in charge of Mr. Goddard, the 
 editor of the "Maryland Journal" who in 
 1785 proposed to publish them, and wrote 
 to Washington, to know if he wished to 
 examine them previously ; but the latter 
 
048 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 declined, solemnly averring : " I can have 
 no request to make concerning the work. 
 I never had a difference with that gen 
 tleman but on public grounds; and my 
 conduct toward him, on this occasion, was 
 such only as I felt myself indispensably 
 bound to adopt in discharge of the public 
 trust reposed in me. If this produced in 
 him unfavorable sentiments of me, I can 
 never consider the conduct I pursued with 
 respect to him either wrong or improper, 
 however I may regret that it may have 
 been differently viewed by him, and that 
 it excited his anger and animadversions. 
 Should there appear in General Lee s wri 
 tings anything injurious or unfriendly to 
 me, the impartial and dispassionate world 
 must decide how far I deserved it, from 
 the general tenor of my conduct." 
 
 In passing judgment upon the charac 
 ter of General Lee, it must be borne in 
 mind that from the beginning he seems 
 to have acted from interested and selfish 
 motives. Thus, when on the 19th of July, 
 1775, the continental Congress appointed 
 a committee to wait upon him and notify 
 him of his appointment, they reported 
 that Lee gave for answer : " That he had 
 the highest sense of the honor conferred 
 upon him by the Congress ; that no effort 
 in his power shall be wanting to serve 
 the American cause ; but, before he en 
 tered upon the service, he desired a con 
 ference with a committee, to consist of one 
 delegate from each of the associated colonies, 
 to whom he desired to explain some par 
 ticulars respecting his private fortune." A 
 committee having been appointed, and 
 
 reporting favorably, Congress " resolved 
 that the colonies tvill indemnify General Lee 
 for any loss of property which he may sustain 
 by entering into their service ; and that the 
 same be done by this or any future Con 
 gress, as soon as such loss is ascertained." 
 This was in marked contrast to the con 
 duct of Washington, who, though incur 
 ring a pecuniary risk far greater than that 
 of Lee, not only required from Congress 
 no surety for the safety of his private for 
 tune, but nobly served throughout the 
 war without personal reward. 
 
 General Charles Lee "must hereafter 
 be deservedly ranked with Church and 
 Arnold, among the traitors whose deeds 
 stain the annals of the American Revo 
 lution Reckless and unprincipled, he 
 was willing to be a traitor to both par 
 ties; but, fortunately for the republican 
 cause, he was deprived of opportunities 
 for doing mischief at a most critical time. 
 As a military adventurer, he was con 
 tinually aiming to secure personal advan 
 tages. Proud of his abilities, and puffed 
 up by flatterers, he aspired to be the com- 
 rnander-in-chief of the American armies. 
 His ambition was checked at the outset. 
 His meteoric light was dimmed by the 
 steady planetary lustre of a greater than 
 he; and, chafed by disappointment, and 
 hopes deferred, and a jealous spirit of ri 
 valry, he was ready to betray the people 
 who confided in his honor, and to seek 
 preferment, fame, and fortune, through 
 the dark lanes of treason and its abiding 
 infamy."* 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE BEAUTIFUL VALLEY OF WYOMING. 
 
 G49 
 
 CHAPTER LXXII. 
 
 Description of the Vale of Wyoming. An Indian Paradise. " Delightful Wyoming." A Change. Quarrel of the 
 Shawnees and the Delawares. The Lords of Wyoming. The First White Man. Count Zinzendorf. An Unbeliev 
 ing Audience. A Miracle. Conversion. Yankee Adventurers. The Susquchanna Company. Peace and Happi. 
 ness. A Sudden Change. Indian Massacre. The Pennsylvania Company. The Quarrel with Great Britain. The 
 Patriots of the Valley. Wyoming in Danger. Colonel Zehulon Butler. Preparations for Defence. Approach of 
 the Enemy. The Butler Rangers. Encingerachtan. The Battle. Fratricide. Massacre. Suffering. Horror upon 
 Horror. Surrender of Fort Forty. Savage Orgies. Tragic Laughter. Flight of the Inhabitants. Adventure and 
 Suffering. Desolate Wyoming. A Metamorphosis. 
 
 1778, 
 
 AMONG the mountains of Pennsyl 
 vania, between the Blue Ridge and 
 the Alleghanies, lies the valley of Wyo 
 ming. Through a gap in the rugged wall 
 of mountain which encloses it, the river 
 Susquehanna bursts, and then winds in a 
 gentle flow among the rolling fields and 
 level meadows which, for more than a 
 score of miles in length and three miles 
 in breadth, form the fertile area of the 
 vale. As the river turns and turns in its 
 tortuous course through groves of wil 
 low, sycamore, and rnnple, it widens here 
 and there into lake-like expanses, where 
 its waters are increased by the flow of 
 other and smaller streams, which gush in 
 noisy torrents from the mountains on all 
 sides, but soon subside into gentle rivu 
 lets as they course smoothly through the 
 level meads. The scene of beauty pre 
 sented by Wyoming is unsurpassed in 
 Nature. The mountains, often precipi 
 tous and rugged, and jagged here and 
 there with wild ravines, either choked 
 with the forest-growth or flooded with 
 turbulent torrents, increase by contrast 
 the gentle beauties of the valley which 
 they enclose. 
 
 82 
 
 Inviting, however, as is this beautiful 
 valley to repose and happiness, it had 
 hardly been the abode of either at the 
 time of which we write. Long before 
 the white man, attracted by its promise 
 of generous reward to labor, sought to fix 
 his home upon its fertile soil, the Indian 
 had made it his favorite resort. The sav 
 age may have been unconscious of the 
 beauties, but he was familiar with the 
 advantages, of the valley. Its seclusion 
 offered comparative security to his wig 
 wam, his squaw, and his children, hidden 
 from a vindictive enemy among the ma 
 ples on the river-bank, while he roamed 
 beyond the mountains in pursuit of the 
 elk. The stream which flowed close by 
 his door was filled with fishes of all kinds 
 with the perch, the pike, the bass, the 
 catfish, the roach, and the shad. Small 
 game, too, abounded everywhere in the 
 valley. The quail whistled in the mead 
 ow ; the pheasant rustled in its leafy cov 
 ert; the wild-duck reared her brood and 
 bent the reed in every islet ; and even 
 the red deer ventured to browse upon 
 the acclivities of the surrounding hills/ - 
 
 * Miner s History of Wyoming. 
 
050 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 With nothing but the rude culture of 
 the Indian, the maize grew abundantly 
 on the fertile land ; while the wild plum, 
 the grape, the hazelnut, and the butter 
 nut, yielded a profuse harvest, without 
 the care or labor of man. 
 
 Such was " delightful Wyoming" by Na 
 ture ; but it was never long a scene of 
 peace and repose. Different tribes of In 
 dians came to build their villages in the 
 valley. There was plenty of room for 
 all. The Nanticokes had settled on the 
 east side of the Susquehanna, and the 
 Shawnees in the meadows on the west ; 
 when the Delawares, driven away from 
 their native river by the warlike IroquoLs, 
 came also to settle in the valley, on the 
 banks of the first-named stream. 
 
 For awhile, peace reigned among them. 
 The Delawares, however, being away up 
 on the mountains, on a hunting-expedi 
 tion, some of their squaws with their chil 
 dren went to gather wild fruits along the 
 banks of the river, when they came upon 
 a company of Shawnee mothers and little 
 ones. A Shawnee boy (so runs the tradi 
 tion) having caught a large grasshopper, 
 a quarrel arose between him and some 
 of the little Delawares as to whom it be 
 longed. The mothers now took part in 
 the dispute, and from words they came 
 to blows ; when, after several had been 
 killed in the strife, the Shawnees were 
 forced to take to their canoes and paddle 
 across to the side of the river where they 
 belonged. 
 
 When the Delaware warriors returned 
 from the mountains, and heard of the 
 quarrel and its fatal consequences, they 
 resolved upon revenge. A fierce conflict 
 
 ensued, in which nearly one half of the 
 whole tribe of the Shawnees were killed, 
 and the rest were driven for ever from 
 the valley.* In the course of time, the 
 Delawares became the sole lords of Wy 
 oming. 
 
 The first white man who penetrated 
 through the mountains to this secluded 
 valley was Count Zinzendorfj who came 
 with pious enthusiasm to convert the In 
 dians, f He arrived in 1742, accompanied 
 only by an interpreter, and boldly set up 
 his tent on the outskirts of the village. 
 He told the Indians, as they gathered 
 threateningly about him, that he had 
 crossed the great waters, and was a mes 
 senger from the Great Spirit sent to teach 
 them the true worship. They listened, 
 but did not believe his word ; and, think 
 ing that his object was to take their lands 
 from him, they determined to destroy the 
 intruder. With the genuine nature of 
 Indians, they chose the night for the pur 
 pose, and, with their tomahawks in their 
 hands, groped their way to the good man s 
 tent. As they lifted its folds, and were 
 stealing in with cautious steps, they saw 
 
 * They migrated to North Carolina, thence to Ohio, and 
 were finally removed to the " Indian reservation" in Kansas, 
 where they now remain, in charge of Quakers. 
 
 t Count NICHOLAS Louis ZINZENDORF, the restorer of 
 the sect of Moravians, was born at Dresden, in 1700. He 
 was son of the elector of Saxony s chamberlain; and was 
 educated at Halle and Wittenberg. He early manifested an 
 enthusiastic turn of mind with respect to religious concerns. 
 In 1721, having given an asylum on his estate to some of 
 the persecuted Moravian brethren, he espoused their doc 
 trines, and became the head of their church. To spread 
 those doctrines, and procure toleration for the professors of 
 them, he travelled over a large part of continental Europe, 
 visited England, and made two voyages to America. He 
 died in 1760. The Moravians, and their head, were long 
 the subject of many gross calumnies, from which, however, 
 their meritorious conduct has amply vindicated them. Cy 
 clopaedia of Biography. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] COUNT ZINDENDORF. MASSACRE OF WHITES. 
 
 651 
 
 Zinzendorf seated upon a bundle of reeds 
 which he had cut from the margin of the 
 river, and writing in a book before him. 
 At that moment a huge rattlesnake, which 
 had been enlivened by the warmth of the 
 fire that the count had lighted, came out 
 of the hollow of a tree, and crawled over 
 his feet, apparently without his being con 
 scious of it. The deadly purpose of the 
 savages was at once arrested ; and, believ 
 ing that their visiter was under the pro 
 tection and truly a messenger of the Great 
 Spirit, they stole quietly back to the vil 
 lage, and told of the wonder which they 
 had beheld. This secured a favorable re 
 ception for Zinzendorf among the Dela- 
 wares j and the Moravians date their suc 
 cess as missionaries among the Indians 
 from this event. 
 
 Other white visiters, however, soon 
 came, with very different objects from 
 those of the benevolent Zinzendorf. In 
 1750, a band of shrewd New-Englanders 
 crossed the mountains, and, gazing from 
 the summits of the surrounding hills upon 
 the fertile valley of Wyoming, were at 
 once impressed with the advantages it 
 offered for a profitable enterprise. On 
 contrasting the rugged hills of their na 
 tive Connecticut with the fat lands which 
 had gladdened their eyes from the mount 
 ain-tops of the Susquehanna, they became 
 dissatisfied with their home, and deter 
 mined to emigrate. The " Susquehanna 
 Company" was accordingly formed, for 
 the purpose of trading with the Dela- 
 wares for their beautiful valley, and ma 
 king arrangements for the proposed set 
 tlement. The Indians were readily per 
 suaded to part with " delightful Wyoming" 
 
 for the sum of " two thousand pounds of 
 current money of the province of New 
 York." 
 
 It was not, however, till the year 1762, 
 after the close of the French War, that 
 the New-Englanders took possession of 
 their purchase, when some two hundred 
 men entered the valley, and commenced 
 clearing farms. They had cut down the 
 timber, built their log-houses, and, before 
 the winter frosts set in, had sown broad 
 fields with wheat. They now concealed 
 their implements of husbandry, that they 
 might be secure from the depredations 
 of the Indians, who still preserved their 
 villages in the valley, and returned to 
 pass the winter in Connecticut. In the 
 spring of 1763 they came back with their 
 wives and their children* their cattle and 
 their household furniture, intending to 
 make Wyoming their permanent home. 
 
 The season had been favorable ; their 
 crops had proved abundant, and the set 
 tlers were looking forward with hope to 
 a life of peace and happiness, when sud 
 denly a large party of their savage neigh 
 bors burst upon them with a loud war- 
 whoop, and began an indiscriminate mas 
 sacre. Twenty fell at the first attack, 
 and the rest of the white settlers fled in 
 fright to the mountains. The Indians, 
 fearful that they would suffer a severe 
 retribution from the hands of the whites, 
 disappeared altogether from the valley ; 
 when again, after an interval of six years, 
 another hardy band of settlers came from 
 Connecticut. There were no longer any 
 red men to oppose them, but some hardly 
 less savage whites now disputed posses 
 sion of the valley. 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 A Pennsylvania company, in the mean 
 while, had prevailed upon the Indians to 
 sell their land over again, and repudiate the 
 purchase of theNew-Englanders. Accord 
 ingly, when forty of the latter, under the 
 authority of the Susquehanna Company, 
 came to take possession of Wyoming, they 
 found a formidable number of represen 
 tatives of the rival association prepared 
 to dispute it with them. A fight ensued, 
 and the " Yankees" were driven off; but, 
 coming back with a reinforcement, they 
 fi nally, after a prolonged struggle,succeed- 
 ed in securing possession of the ground. 
 The dispute, however, still remained un 
 decided, when the breaking out of the 
 Revolutionary War diverted the inhabit 
 ants of the valley from their own quarrel 
 to that with Great Britain. 
 
 The people, with prompt patriotism, 
 eagerly came forward to sustain the cause 
 of liberty. Two companies, of eighty-two 
 men each, were raised in the town of 
 Westmoreland, as the chief settlement in 
 the valley of Wyoming was called. These 
 readily obeyed the summons of Congress 
 to join Washington, and aid in fighting 
 the battles of the country. They were 
 with the continental army in its camp at 
 Brunswick, when their homes on the Sus 
 quehanna were threatened with devasta 
 tion by the savage allies of the British. 
 Letters came from aged fathers, mothers, 
 from wives and sisters, urging their nat 
 ural protectors to hasten to the defence 
 of all they loved. The summons was 
 heard, but could not be obeyed. The 
 men begged for permission to leave the 
 army, and go to Wyoming, but were re 
 fused. Congress and their own state of 
 
 Connecticut were appealed to, but in vain. 
 At the last moment, some twenty men, 
 willing to risk all, deserted, and five com 
 missioned officers resigned, and hastened 
 to Wyoming, with the sad foreboding that 
 they might be too late, and even power 
 less if in time, to avert from their beloved 
 vale the impending blow, but determined 
 to share the common peril with their kin 
 dred. 
 
 Colonel Zebulon Butler, a continental 
 officer, had been successful in his appli 
 cation for leave of absence from the army, 
 and, being chosen leader, now prepared 
 to make every resistance which the val 
 ley with its diminished population was 
 capable of. On each side of the Susque 
 hanna were several old forts, rudely con 
 structed of logs. The principal one on 
 the west, about two miles above Wilkes- 
 barre, was " Fort Forty," so called from 
 having been raised by the forty pioneers 
 who came into the valley in 1769. This 
 had been strengthened when the Revo 
 lutionary War began, and blockhouses 
 were now added to it, to shelter the wo 
 men and children when forced to seek 
 refuge from the enemy. 
 
 Colonel Zebulon Butler now mustered 
 all the force that he could gather. This 
 amounted but "to two hundred and thirty 
 enrolled men and seventy old people 
 boys, civil magistrates, and other volun 
 teers." Most of the able-bodied men were 
 with Washington s army, and those who 
 had been left in the valley were the few 
 whose labor w r as necessary to cultivate 
 the land ; while the rest of the male in 
 habitants were the aged and the sick. 
 They all now came forward in the urgen- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] WYOMING INVADED BY TORIES AND INDIANS. 
 
 653 
 
 cy of danger. The strong men abandoned 
 the fields ; the old men and the feeble 
 left their retreats beneath the sweet 
 shades of the honeysuckled porch; the 
 boys played no longer about the school- 
 house. Age, youth, and sickness, were 
 nerved to unusual vigor ; and every one, 
 with musket on his shoulder, prepared to 
 strike a blow for the defence of his home. 
 
 While the men were being drilled from 
 morning till night at the fort, the \vomen 
 and the girls cheerfully went forth into 
 the fields to plant seed, make hay, or gar- 
 iier corn. They also bore a share in the 
 military preparations. A " pounder" was 
 brought into the settlement; "and the 
 women took up their .floors, dug out the 
 earth, put it in casks, and run water 
 through it (as ashes are leached); then 
 took ashes in another cask, and made 
 lye ; mixed the water from the earth with 
 weak lye, boiled it, set it to cool, and the 
 saltpetre rose to the top. Charcoal and 
 sulphur were then used, and powder pro 
 duced for the public defence."* 
 
 The expected foe finally approached. 
 On the last day of June, 1778, Colonel 
 John Butler, a tory of Tryon county, in 
 New York, an ally of Sir William and Sir 
 Guy Johnson, and like them famous as a 
 leader of the Indians, entered the head 
 of the valley of Wyoming. The force 
 with him numbered about eleven hun 
 dred men, and was composed of the But 
 ler Rangers, a detachment of Johnson s 
 Royal Greens, and about six hundred In 
 dians, led on by Encingcrachtan., a chief of 
 the " Turtle" tribe of the Senecas. Among 
 Butler s troops were some tories who be- 
 
 * Miner s History. 
 
 longed to Wyoming valley, and who, hav 
 ing been driven away from their homes, 
 burned to revenge themselves upon the 
 patriots, although they had been their old 
 neighbors, and among them were their 
 kindred. 
 
 At the head of the valley there were 
 still some settlers left who clung to the 
 tory interests ; and as soon as Butler pre 
 sented himself, his plans were facilitated 
 by their connivance. Fort Wintermost 
 was in the control of a family of that 
 name, who, being loyalists, did not hesi 
 tate to yield it up at once ; while another 
 fort was forced to surrender. Butler then 
 sent a summons to Fort Forty, which the 
 resolute patriots who held it answered by 
 a prompt refusal. 
 
 As soon as the enemy had entered the 
 valley, Colonel Zebulon Butler mustered 
 alt his force at the fort, where the settlers 
 had fled for refuge. The summons to sur 
 render having been refused, a council was 
 held, to consider what next was to be 
 done. The majority were for marching 
 out against the foe, and giving them bat 
 tle at once. Butler and some of the old 
 er officers were in favor of delay, in the 
 hope that some reinforcements which they 
 had urgently entreated might be sent to 
 their aid, would arrive. The impatience 
 of the rest, however, could not be con 
 trolled ; and Colonel Butler, though still 
 opposed to the march, mounted his horse, 
 exclaiming, "I tell you we go into great 
 danger, but I can go as far as any of you !" 
 and led forth his meager band of "three 
 hundred men, old men, and boys." They 
 set out on their march at three 
 o clock in the afternoon ; and, as 
 
65 t 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 they advanced toward the head of the val 
 ley, they saw Fort Wintermost in flames, 
 which had been set on fire by the enemy, 
 to give the impression that they were re 
 tiring. 
 
 The colonel pushed on until he came 
 w r ithin sight of the enemy, posted on a 
 plain between the river Susquehanna and 
 a marsh, when, selecting his ground, he 
 drew up his little force. On the right of 
 "Indian Butler" (as lie was called, to dis 
 tinguish him from the commander of the 
 patriots) were his savage allies and the 
 tories of Wyoming, while on his left were 
 his own Rangers and Johnson s Royal 
 Greens. The patriot Butler formed his 
 line of the same extent, directly opposite, 
 posting his right near the river, and his 
 left, under Colonel Denison, toward the 
 marsh. 
 
 " Men, yonder is the enemy !" exclaim 
 ed the patriot colonel. " We come out 
 to fight, not only for liberty, but for life 
 itself; and, what is dearer, to preserve 
 our homes from conflagration, and our 
 women and children from the tomahawk. 
 Stand firm the first shock, and the Indi 
 ans will give way. Every man to his 
 duty!" "Be firm! everything depends 
 on resistingthe first shock," repeated Colo 
 nel Denison on the left : and the whole 
 line was ordered to fire, and at each dis 
 charge to advance a step. 
 
 The men behaved themselves with cool 
 ness, and kept up the fire steadily and 
 with such effect, that at one moment the 
 enemy appeared to waver; but the Indi 
 ans now came to their rescue. These sav 
 ages plunged into the morass, to turn the 
 left flank of the patriots ; while others, 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 skulking behind the bushes and the pine- 
 trees which grew near the river, kept up 
 a galling fire on the right. Colonel Deni 
 son strove to prevent the Indians from 
 outflanking him, and ordered the left wing 
 to fall back, that it might present a front 
 to them. His raw militia, however, mis 
 understood the order, and began to re 
 treat. "Don t leave me, my children," 
 cried their colonel, " and the victory is 
 ours !" But it was too late. The great 
 est confusion prevailed, and the patriots 
 finally turned and fled in all directions, 
 with the savages in fierce pursuit. Few 
 escaped the merciless tomahawk; no quar 
 ter was shown, and many of those taken 
 prisoners were put to d^eath with cruel 
 tortures. 
 
 The Indians counted two hundred and 
 twenty-seven scalps as their barbarous 
 trophies of the day, and only spared the 
 lives of five of the captives, who were 
 saved with the greatest difficulty by the 
 interposition of their white leader, Butler. 
 Great as were the horrors of the massa 
 cre, they were much exaggerated by the 
 contemporary reports, which have been 
 repeated by most subsequent historians. 
 Two well-authenticated incidents., howev 
 er, were of a nature sufficiently terrible 
 to set the imagination brooding;, until hor- 
 
 O O- 7 
 
 ror accumulated upon horror. 
 
 Several of the fugitives, having thrown 
 away their arms, succeeded in swimming 
 to an island in the river called Monocko- 
 nock, and hid themselves amid the brush 
 wood. The enemy were in hot pursuit, 
 arid followed them across the stream, and, 
 having deliberately wiped their muskets, 
 which had been wetted by the water, re- 
 
KKVOLUTIONART.] FRATRICIDE. FORT FORTY SURRENDERED. 
 
 655 
 
 loaded them, and began to beat up the 
 island in search of the hidden fugitives. 
 One of the pursuers was a former tory 
 settler of Wyoming ; ( and as he passed 
 slowly along, carefully scrutinizing every 
 covert, he suddenly came upon a fugitive, 
 who proved to be his brother ! " So, it 
 is you, is it ?" exclaimed he fiercely. The 
 poor fellow, finding himself discovered, 
 came out of his hiding-place, and, throw 
 ing himself upon his knees, begged his 
 brother to spare his life ; declaring that, 
 if he would, he would live with him and 
 serve him as a slave for the rest of his 
 days. " All this is mighty good, but you 
 
 are a d d rebel !" was the only answer 
 
 to this fraternal appeal ; and the monster 
 levelled his rifle, and shot his brother 
 dead upon the spot. 
 
 One Elijah Shoemaker, while endeav 
 oring to escape, plunged into the river; 
 but, not being able to swim, he feared to 
 venture beyond his depth. At this mo 
 ment he was observed by one of the ene 
 my, a tory of the name of Windecker, 
 who had been indebted to Shoemaker for 
 many an act of neighborly kindness in 
 former days. " Come out. Shoemaker !" 
 hallooed Windecker. "I am afraid you 
 will give me up to the Indians," was the 
 reply. No," rejoined Windecker, "I ll 
 save you ; they sha n t hurt you." The 
 poor fellow, trusting to his word, no soon 
 er came within his reach, than the per 
 fidious Windecker dashed his tomahawk 
 into his head, and sent the lifeless body 
 floating down the stream. 
 
 Some fugitives escaped by swimming 
 the river ; others by crossing the morass 
 to the mountains, and hiding themselves 
 
 until night, when they made their way 
 back to Fort Forty. The two colonels, 
 being mounted, were the first to reach 
 the fort, and bring the sad intelligence 
 of the day s disaster to the defenceless 
 old men, Avomen, and children, there hud 
 dled together. After they had drawn up 
 terms of capitulation to be offered to the 
 enemy, Colonel Butler crossed the river 
 to Wilkesbarre ; and early next morning, 
 throwing a feather-bed across his horse, 
 and mounting with his wife behind him, 
 he made his escape from the valley, leav 
 ing Colonel Denison in chief command 
 of the fort. 
 
 In the evening, a small reinforcement 
 of militia from the neighboring towns of 
 Salern and Huntington arrived at Fort 
 Forty, which somewhat strengthened the 
 garrison, but did not encourage them to 
 hold out. On the next morning, f 
 Colonel John, the " Indian" But 
 ler, sent in a summons to Colonel Deni 
 son to surrender, which, after a short ne 
 gotiation, was complied with. The terms 
 agreed upon were, that the settlers should 
 lay -down their arms, and not resume them 
 during the contest; that the fort be de 
 molished ; that the continental stores be 
 given up ; that the British prisoners in 
 the fort be released ; that the inhabitants 
 be allowed to occupy their farms, that 
 their lives and property be preserved, and 
 that Colonel Butler should use his utmost 
 influence with his troops and Indians in 
 securing these conditions. It was also 
 agreed that the property taken from " the 
 people called tories" should be made good, 
 and that they should be allowed to re 
 main in the peaceable possession of their 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT II. 
 
 July 5. 
 
 farms, and unmolested in pursuing a free 
 trade throughout the settlement. 
 
 On the ensuing day, the gates 
 of Fort Forty were thrown open, 
 and the tory Butler entered with his Ran 
 gers, followed by the Seneca chief En- 
 cingerachtan and his Indian warriors. 
 
 o 
 
 The arms of the garrison were all stacked, 
 and Butler, pointing to them as his sav 
 age allies came in, exclaimed, " See what 
 a present the Yankees have made you !" 
 During the day, the Indians contented 
 themselves with skulking about the set 
 tlement, and peering with their painted 
 faces through the doors of the houses ; 
 and, although they greatly terrified the 
 inhabitants, they did not harm them or 
 their property. The savages, however, 
 soon gave way to their instincts for plun 
 der. Helping themselves to the rum in 
 the shops and taverns, they soon became 
 so wild with drink, that their leader, But 
 ler, lost all control over them. He was 
 remonstrated with by Colonel Denison, 
 for not extending the protection to the 
 inhabitants which had been guarantied 
 by the treaty. Butler, however, waved 
 his hand significantly, and declared, "I 
 can do nothing with them." Without 
 further effort to check their barbarous 
 propensities, he marched out of the val 
 ley with his tory confederates, and left the 
 settlement to the mercy of his savage allies. 
 
 The Indians, in company with their 
 squaws, now went prowling about from 
 house to house, from barn to henroost, in 
 search of plunder. Nothing escaped them. 
 They tore the hunting -shirts from the 
 men s backs, and pulled the bonnets from 
 the heads of the women. The " great 
 
 chests" were ransacked, and the stores of 
 household linen, so dear to good house 
 wives, carried off by the filthy hands of 
 drunken squaws. The ovens were robbed 
 of the last loaf, before the wistful eyes of 
 famishing children. They seized upon 
 the feather-beds, flung out the feathers, 
 and, cramming in their plunder, threw 
 them upon the horses stolen from the sta 
 bles ; and then decking themselves in ill- 
 assorted finery, they paraded in grotesque 
 triumph throughout the settlement. The 
 drunken, -painted squaw, with bonnets 
 put on all awry, and towering three deep 
 upon her head, with a bright scarlet cloak 
 hanging before her, a terrific wand in her 
 hand strung with bloody scalps, and jolt 
 ing upon some sorry nag along the road, 
 presented a horrid picture, }^et so gro 
 tesque, that it did not fail, even in those 
 hours of trouble, to raise a laugh from the 
 suffering spectators. 
 
 Thus the savages revelled in riot and 
 robbery from day to day for a week, un 
 til they finally set fire to all the houses 
 in the settlement, and gave up the fields 
 of grain to the. trampling hoof of horse 
 and cattle. The inhabitants fled for ref 
 uge to the fort, where they remained for 
 a fortnight, living upon a concealed store 
 of provisions, which had fortunately es 
 caped the observation of the Indian rob 
 bers, who did not leave " a hoof, a kernel, 
 or a morsel of bread or meat," which they 
 could either carry away or burn. 
 
 As their provisions were being rapidly 
 exhausted, as all hope of aid from beyond 
 the mountains passed away, and as the 
 savages still prowled about, and peered 
 into the very embrasures of the fort, and 
 
HK VOLUTION ART.] 
 
 DESOLATION OF WYOMING. 
 
 657 
 
 jeered at the poor wretches huddled to 
 gether with the cruel threat, " Wild In 
 dians come soon kill Yankee and eat 
 em !" it was determined to abandon the 
 ill-fated colony. Their work of devasta 
 tion .accomplished, the savages returned 
 to their homes, having burnt every dwel 
 ling but a few near the fort at Wilkesbarre. 
 
 A general exodus of the survivors now 
 took place. Some constructed rude boats, 
 and risked their all upon the dangerous 
 waters of the Susquehanna; some few 
 were fortunate enough to find a stray 
 horse or a pair of oxen, while the greater 
 portion were obliged to travel their wea 
 ry wny on foot. With a scanty supply 
 of provisions to begin their journey, they 
 had exhausted them all long before they 
 reached the hospitable homes of their 
 countrymen beyond the mountains. In 
 their hunger they were forced to feed 
 themselves on the twigs and roots of the 
 sassafras and the wild berries which grew 
 by the roadside. Women and children 
 sickened and died by the way, and strong 
 men almost gave up in despair when they 
 found themselves powerless to save those 
 they loved. 
 
 In a few weeks, however, the fugitives 
 began to return, in order to secure such 
 of their crops as had escaped destruction. 
 In October they undertook to gather the 
 remains of their comrades who had fallen, 
 and to give them decent burial. The 
 weather had been so hot and dry, that the 
 mutilated corpses were shrivelled up and 
 inoffensive. They could be recognised 
 only by the clothing that remained upon 
 them. They were taken up with pitch 
 forks, and deposited in a common grave,- 
 83 
 
 which remained unmarked for more than 
 half a century. At last a granite monu 
 ment was erected over the spot, bearing 
 appropriate inscriptions, and recording 
 the names of those who fell in that fatal 
 battle. 
 
 During the remainder of the war, Wy 
 oming was harassed by prowling bands 
 of Indians. No man who went into the 
 fields in the morning had any security 
 that he would not be waylaid, shot, and 
 scalped, before night. Scarcely a month 
 passed which was not marked by some 
 murder committed by the marauding sav 
 ages. 
 
 Thus was the beautiful vale of Wyo 
 ming made desolate by a savage enemy. 
 The dark morasses of the Pocono river, 
 through which the wretched fugitives 
 from the battle fled before the ruthless 
 tomahawks of Butler s pursuing Indians 
 now received the fitting appellation of 
 "Tlie Slmdes of Death." The valley had 
 never resembled the picture which Camp 
 bell, with a poet s license, had painted of 
 its earlier days: 
 
 " Delightful Wyoming ! beneath thy skies 
 
 The happy shepherd-swains had naught to do 
 But feed their flocks on green declivities, 
 
 Or skim perchance thy lake with light canoe." 
 
 In these later times, there is but little 
 hope of an Arcadian revival, with such 
 unpastoral elements as a puffing locomo 
 tive, a smoky furnace-chimney, or a board 
 ed factory. Wyoming, with all its attrac 
 tions, will ever owe more to the genius 
 of the poet for its picturesque reputation 
 than to the rich bounty of Nature or the 
 homely virtues of its inhabitants. 
 
658 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART n. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIII. 
 
 A Timely Escape. Arrival of a French Fleet. The Count D Estaing. Encampment of the Americans. Character ot 
 D Estaing. French Hyberbole. Arrival of the French Minister and the American Agent. Admiral Lord Howe on 
 the Move. Spirit of the British Tars. The two Fleets in Sight. D Estaing prudently sails away. He arrives at 
 Newport. Another Chance lost. Expedition against Rhode Island. Active Preparations by Washington. John 
 Hancock in Arms. Plans of Attack. Postponement. Gallic: Sensibility. An Apology demanded. Appearance of 
 Lord Howe. D Estaing sails out to meet Him. Manoeuvres. General Sullivan begins the Siege. A Terrible 
 gtorm. No Appearance of D Estaing. He arrives at Last. The Adventures of his Fleet. The Storm. Fight with 
 the British. A Drawn Battle. D Estaing goes to Boston to refit. Disappointment of the Americans. Quarrel with 
 Sullivan. A Satirical Order. Complaint of D Estaing to Congress. Lafayette interposes. The British Attack. 
 The Americans on the Defensive. Retreat of Sullivan. New Bedford laid in Ruins. 
 
 1778, 
 
 July 8, 
 
 SIR HENRY CLINTON with his army 
 and Admiral Lord Howe with his 
 ships had escaped just in time. They 
 had left Philadelphia and the Delaware 
 only a few days before the formidable 
 French fleet, under Count D Estaing, ap 
 peared off the mouth of the riv 
 er. The voyage from Toulon, pro 
 longed by head winds, had lasted eighty- 
 seven days, and the French admiral was 
 thus balked of his purpose of caging the 
 English earl within the Delaware. D Es- 
 taing s fleet, composed of twelve ships-of- 
 the-line and six frigates, and having on 
 board, in addition to full crews, troops 
 amounting to over four thousand men, 
 was in a condition to have effectually 
 checked the movements of the British, if 
 not, with the co-operation of Washing 
 ton s army, to have forced both Howe 
 and Clinton to terms. 
 
 This practical demonstration of the ad 
 vantages of the "French alliance" gave 
 great encouragement to the Americans, 
 and they warmly welcomed the arrival 
 of D Estaing. His personal reputation 
 was not such as to be particularly assu 
 
 ring, or the reverse ; but the substantial 
 aid be brought with him, in the shape of 
 great ships and powerful armaments, to 
 gether with thousands of men, were such 
 accessions of strength, that for the first 
 time the people felt that they had such 
 resources at command as to remove all 
 dread of being overwhelmed by the ma 
 terial weight and wealth of the powerful 
 nation against which they were bravely 
 struggling. 
 
 Count CHARLES HENRY D ESTAING, the 
 French admiral, was a native of the prov 
 ince of Auvergne, and had acquired some 
 reflected glory while serving under the 
 great Marshal Saxe, and in the East In 
 dies under the famous native Irishman 
 and naturalized Frenchman De Lally. 
 D Estaing had somewhat stained his gal 
 lantry by breaking his parole when a pris 
 oner in the hands of the English ; but his 
 rank and family influence in France se 
 cured him promotion, and, although his 
 early career had been in the army, when 
 appointed to the command of the fleet 
 now sent to the succor of the American 
 cause, he was among the most prominent 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 COUNT CHARLES HENRY D ESTAING. 
 
 659 
 
 of the French naval commanders. On 
 arriving off the mouth of the Delaware, 
 he immediately sent a despatch to Wash 
 ington, which was characteristic of the 
 man, who had more than the usual Gallic 
 fondness for hyberbole. He was charged, 
 he said, witli the glorious task of giving 
 his allies, the United States of America, 
 the most striking proofs of his royal mas 
 ter s affection. His happiness in perform 
 ing it w r as enhanced, he declared, by the 
 consideration of serving with General 
 Washington, whose talents and ureat ac- 
 
 < - * O 
 
 tions " have insured him, in the eyes of 
 all Europe, the title truly sublime of De 
 liverer of America" 
 
 The count, disappointed in his expecta 
 tion of catching Lord Howe in the Dela 
 ware, now sent a small vessel to convey 
 to Philadelphia Monsieur Gerard, the first 
 minister from France, and the recalled 
 American agent, Silas Deane, who had 
 come passengers with the fleet, and then 
 went in pursuit of his lordship. 
 
 In the meantime, Admiral Howe, hav 
 ing heard of the count s arrival, prepared 
 to receive him. The British lleet was 
 lying within Sandy Hook, and, although 
 it was small compared with the French 
 (consisting only of six ships of sixty-four 
 guns, three of fifty, two of forty, and a 
 lew small frigates and sloops, making six 
 hundred and fourteen guns in all, with 
 which to oppose D Estaing s eight hun 
 dred and fifty-four), it soon showed a very 
 vigorous manifestation of resistance. The 
 spirit of the English sailors was aroused 
 to great enthusiasm by the prospect of 
 fighting with their ancient and heredita 
 ry enemies. D Estaing arrived off New 
 
 York, but seemed to hesitate about ven 
 turing into the bav. He remained at an- 
 
 / 
 
 chor for eleven days off Sandy Hook with 
 his formidable fleet, separated only by a 
 narrow strip of sand from his adversary. 
 During this delay, Lord Howe had a good 
 opportunity of putting his ships in order 
 and recruiting his crews. English sea 
 men of all classes readily offered their 
 services. A thousand volunteers were im 
 mediately despatched from the transports 
 to serve in the fleet; others were daily 
 coming in, and among them masters and 
 mates, who did not hesitate to abandon 
 their traders in order to have a brush 
 with the French. So many officers and 
 soldiers of the army contended eagerly 
 to serve on board the rnen-of-war as ma 
 rines, that it became necessary to choose 
 them by lot. 
 
 Count d Estaing, however, had doubts, 
 strengthened by the judgment of his pi 
 lots, about the safety of carrying his large 
 vessels across the bar ; and, after his lon<; 
 
 77 o 
 
 delay, he weighed anchor and set sail for 
 Newport. He again lost the chance of a 
 success. A few days after he put to sea, 
 several British men-of-war arrived, which 
 belonged to Admiral Byron s fleet, that 
 had been scattered in a storm. Within 
 a week after D Estaing s departure, no 
 less than four vessels, each one singly, 
 came and anchored inside of the Hook. 
 They were so damaged by the severe 
 weather to which they had been exposed, 
 that they were little more than so many 
 wrecks, and were so incapable of resist 
 ance, that they would have struck imme 
 diately had they encountered the French 
 fleet on their arrival. To add to D Es- 
 
G60 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 tiling s chagrin, he soon learned that, a 
 few days after he had left the Delaware, 
 a large convoy of ships laden with pro 
 visions for the British forces, of \vhich 
 they were in great need, had entered the 
 river. By a neglect on the part of the 
 British ministry, these storeshipshad been 
 allowed to sail for Philadelphia, although 
 orders to evacuate that city had been pre 
 viously sent out. Count d Estaing de 
 clared, with an emphatic sacre, that the 
 English had the devil s own luck. 
 
 The expedition against the British on 
 Rhode island, which was now undertaken 
 by the French fleet, was suggested by 
 Washington, who did his utmost, by an 
 active co-operation, to secure a successful 
 result. He urged General Sullivan, then 
 in command at Providence, to be on the 
 alert, and make all possible preparations 
 by land. Militia were ordered to be called 
 out from New England to reinforce the 
 regulars in the proposed enterprise, and 
 Washington sent additional troops from 
 his own camp in New Jersey. These lat 
 ter, with their officers, as far as possible, 
 were selected from those who were con 
 nected with New England, and especially 
 with Rhode Island, in order that to the 
 incentive of duty there might be added 
 the spur of interest. The Massachusetts 
 and Rhode Island brigades of Glover and 
 Varnum were accordingly despatched; 
 and General Greene, a Rhode-Islander, al 
 though he could be ill spared, as he was 
 then performing the important functions 
 of quartermaster-general, was ordered to 
 take command of one division, and La 
 fayette of the other. The young marquis 
 had been selected because he was a com 
 
 patriot of D Estaing, and it was thought 
 his presence might serve to regulate and 
 harmonize the naturally-discordant com 
 bination of Americans with the French. 
 General Sullivan, already in command at 
 Providence, was of course commander-in- 
 chief of the land-force, which soon num 
 bered ten thousand men. Such was the 
 eagerness to co-operate with their new 
 allies, and their confidence of a triumph 
 ant success, that thousands of gentlemen- 
 volunteers had thronged in from Boston, 
 Salem, Newburyport, and Portsmouth, to 
 offer their services. John Hancock, who 
 had retired from the presidency of Con 
 gress, had buckled on his sword and led 
 the militia of Massachusetts as their ma 
 jor-general, but was not destined to gar 
 ner from the field of battle any fresh lau 
 rels to add to those which he had har 
 vested in the state. 
 
 Count D Estaing now arrived with his 
 formidable fleet off Point Judith, 
 but it was not until some days 
 after that he moved in toward the har 
 bor, where General Sir Robert Pb-ott. the 
 
 O / 
 
 commander of the British forces, made 
 preparations for receiving the expected 
 attack. The squadron, consisting of four- 
 frigates and several smaller vessels, were 
 burned or sunk by the British; and Pigott 
 withdrew all his troops, amounting to six 
 thousand, from the various forts scattered 
 over Rhode island, within his strong in- 
 trenchments, about three miles from New 
 port. 
 
 D Estaing, having concocted with Gen 
 eral Sullivan the plan of operations, by 
 which the former was to push into the har 
 bor with his fleet, and the latter should 
 
 July 29, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] BRITISH AND FRENCH FLEETS OFF RHODE ISLAND. 
 
 061 
 
 August 8, 
 
 cross from the main over Seaconnet chan 
 nel and attack the British intrenchments 
 by land, was prepared to begin his part, 
 when unfortunately a delay took place. 
 Sullivan sent word to the count that he 
 was not ready, in consequence of the non- 
 arrival of some expected troops. The at 
 tack was therefore postponed until the 
 10th of August. 
 
 In the meantime, the French 
 admiral took his fleet into the 
 harbor, under a heavy fire from the Brit 
 ish batteries (which, however, he soon 
 passed), and anchored his ships above the 
 town. General Sullivan had also moved 
 forward to Tiverton, ready to cross Sea 
 connet channel at the time agreed upon ; 
 but finding on arriving there in the night 
 (August 8th), that the works on the op 
 posite side had been abandoned in con 
 sequence of the withdrawal by the British 
 commander of all his troops within his in 
 trenchments near Newport, he could not 
 resist the temptation of crossing. Early 
 the next morning, Sullivan ac 
 cordingly threw his whole force 
 across to the northern part of Rhode isl 
 and, on which Newport is situated, and 
 thus made this movement one day sooner 
 than had been agreed upon with D Es 
 taing. 
 
 The French admiral, who had not been 
 informed of the change in the plan of op-- 
 erations, felt highly vexed at this appa 
 rent want of respectful consideration for 
 a man of his rank and dignity, and now 
 refused to act until his wounded sensibil 
 ity was relieved by an explanation or 
 healed by an apology. While the irrita 
 ble Frenchman was undergoing the sooth- 
 
 August 9. 
 
 ing process, the appearance of Admiral 
 Lord Howe and his fleet off Newport put 
 a sudden stop for the time being to all 
 thought of an attack upon the island, and 
 D Estaing concentrated his attentions up 
 on his naval antagonist. 
 
 As soon as he had discovered the des 
 tination of the French, Lord Howe hast 
 ily refitted the shattered vessels belong 
 ing to Admiral Byron s squadron, and 
 with his fleet thus reinforced sailed from 
 New York in search of D Estaing. The 
 wind blew directly in for the harbor of 
 Newport, but Earl Howe thought it more 
 prudent to come to anchor off Point Ju 
 dith. The count was eager to try his 
 metal with his lordship, and, considering 
 his arrival a challenge to an encounter, 
 he determined to accept it. The wind 
 changing, gave D Estaing an opportunity 
 to stand out with all his fleet; and ac 
 cordingly, the next morning, at 
 an early hour, he sailed out of 
 Newport harbor, sending word to General 
 Sullivan before he left that on his return 
 he would be prepared to carry out the 
 concerted plan against the British on the 
 island. 
 
 In the meantime, Lord Howe wei;hed 
 
 o 
 
 anchor and made preparations to receive 
 his antagonist; but, not willing that the 
 latter should have the advantage of the 
 weather-gage of him, the earl tacked and 
 manoeuvred his fleet, in order to get be 
 tween him and the wind. D Estaing was 
 not less anxious to retain his position ; 
 and the two squadrons, while thus trying 
 to outmanoeuvre each other, ran out to 
 sea, and out of sight of Rhode island. 
 General Sullivan had already advanced 
 
 Aug. 10, 
 
662 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 All*, 12, 
 
 from the northern point of the island, 
 where he had landed, to Quaker hill, about 
 ten miles from the British lines near New 
 port ; and when he heard that his French 
 ally, instead of co-operating with him, had 
 gone to give battle to Admiral Howe, he 
 was so vexed, that he determined to car 
 ry out the enterprise without waiting for 
 the impracticable Frenchman. Lafayette, 
 with a natural sympathy for his compa 
 triot, strongly urged Sullivan not to be 
 gin operations until the return of D Es 
 taing; but the American officers were all 
 strenuously in favor of commencing the 
 siege at once, without waiting for the 
 count, whose delays and punctilious for 
 malities had greatly disgusted them. 
 
 The siege began ; but little 
 progress had been made, howev 
 er, when a severe storm came on, which 
 raged with the violence of a tropical hur 
 ricane, blowing down the tents, damaging 
 the ammunition, and causing the death 
 of sa>me of the soldiers and horses. The 
 storm lasted two days. On the third, the 
 sun shone brightly ; and the troops, al 
 though somewhat dispirited by their suf 
 ferings, prepared themselves to continue 
 the siege. A day having been spent in 
 drying the arms and ammunition, and re 
 pairing the tents torn by the wind, the 
 soldiers on the next morning marched 
 to Honeyman s hill, within only two miles 
 of the British intrenchments. Here they 
 took post, and began to advance against 
 the enemy s works by regular approach 
 es. The men for some time kept spirit 
 edly to their duty, encouraged by the 
 hourly expectation of the return of the 
 French fleet to their aid. When, howev- 
 
 Aug. 19. 
 
 er, they waited in vain day after day, 
 they became discouraged. At 
 last, the camp was suddenly en 
 livened by the appearance of D Estaing 
 and his ships off the harbor, whose adven 
 tures during his absence we shall now re 
 late. 
 
 Lord Howe, having been unable, with 
 all his manoeuvring, to get the weather- 
 guage of his antagonist, finally hove to, 
 formed his ships into line to the leeward, 
 and waited for the French fleet to bear 
 down upon him. D Estaing, doubtless, 
 would not have hesitated to accept the 
 challenge ; but just at this moment, a fu 
 rious storm (the same which had pros 
 trated Sullivan s \vhole camp) began to 
 rage. The vessels of both fleets were at 
 once dispersed, and all greatly damaged. 
 The Languedoc, of ninety guns, Count 
 D Estaing s flagship, w r as dismasted, and 
 several others were completely disabled. 
 
 On the third day, when the 
 storm had abated, Admiral Howe 
 had gathered only seven of his scattered 
 fleet, but he was still disposed for the 
 fight; and two of his ships, the Renown 
 and the Preston, falling in with the dis 
 masted Languedoc and the Tormat, gave 
 them a rough handling, and would have 
 captured them, had not other vessels of 
 the French come to their rescue. A day 
 or two subsequently, chance brought to 
 gether two other ships which had suffered 
 less in the storm than any of their con 
 sorts. These were the Isis, of fifty guns, 
 commanded by Captain Rayner, and the 
 C8esar,of seventy-four, commanded by the 
 renowned De Bougainville. They fought 
 desperately for an hour and a half, being 
 
 Aug. 14, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] COUNT D ESTAING AND GENERAL SULLIVAN. 
 
 663 
 
 for the greater part of that lime close 
 alongside of each other. De Bougainville, 
 with his superior weight of metal, had 
 borne down upon the Isis with confidence 
 of victory, but his guns were overloaded 
 and badly served. Finding his antago 
 nist too strong for him, he made off be 
 fore the wind, with his deck strewed with 
 seventy men killed and wounded. The 
 Isis was so severely damaged in her masts 
 and rigging as to be unable to give chase, 
 although her crew had suffered but little 
 one man only having been killed and 
 three wounded. De Bougainville lost an 
 arm and an eye. 
 
 There being no farther disposition for 
 battle between the shattered fleets, Lord 
 Howe bore for New York to refit, and 
 D Es tiling returned to Newport, and was 
 making for that harbor, when his sudden 
 appearance, as we have seen, enlivened 
 General Sullivan s troops with the pros 
 pect of assistance and a successful result 
 to the enterprise in which they were en 
 gaged. As soon as the French fleet came 
 to anchor, Generals Greene and Lafayette 
 pushed off to visit the admiral. They 
 were sadly disappointed to find that he 
 had determined to sail for Boston, in or 
 der to refit his damaged vessels. They 
 entreated him not to desert them at the 
 very crisis of the enterprise, when the 
 British garrison was so dispirited by its 
 disappointment in not receiving supplies 
 from Earl Howe and reinforcements from 
 Sir Henry Clinton at New York, that it 
 would probably surrender at the mere 
 sight of the return of the French fleet to 
 the harbor. 
 
 D Estaing, however, resisted all their 
 
 entreaties, declaring that he was disposed 
 to yield, but that his officers unanimously 
 insisted upon obedience to the orders of 
 the French government, which had di 
 rected that, in the event of damage to 
 his vessels, he should put into Boston for 
 repairs. Greene and Lafayette returned 
 to the camp before Newport with the un 
 welcome intelligence. General Sullivan 
 was very indignant, and sent a remon 
 strance to the French admiral, which was 
 signed by every one of his officers except 
 Lafayette. In this paper, Sullivan pro 
 tested against D Estaing s taking the fleet 
 to Boston, as derogatory to the honor of 
 France, contrary to the intention of his 
 most Christian majesty Louis XVI. and 
 the interests of the French nation, de 
 structive to the welfare of the United 
 States, and highly injurious to the alli 
 ance formed between the two nations. 
 The remonstrance, however, only served 
 to offend the pride of the French admiral, 
 and not to alter his resolution. He sailed 
 with his fleet to Boston. 
 
 Sullivan, who was fluent with his pen, 
 and rather prided himself upon his skill 
 in turning a period, could not resist the 
 temptation of indulging in what he prob 
 ably supposed was a very delicately ex 
 pressed bit of satire ; and he accordingly 
 nrade the following allusion to the de 
 parture of the French in his order to his 
 troops: u The general can not help la 
 menting the sudden and unexpected de 
 parture of the French fleet, as he finds it 
 has a tendency to discourage some who 
 placed great dependence upon the assist 
 ance of it, though he can l>// no means sup 
 pose the anny or any part of it endangered 
 
CG4 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 by this movement. He yd hopes the event will 
 prove America able to procure that by her men 
 arms which her allies refuse to assist in obtain 
 ing: 
 
 On reaching Boston, D Estaing wrote 
 to Congress, justifying himself, and com 
 plaining of the remonstrance of the Amer 
 ican officers, and Sullivan s uncourteous 
 allusion quoted above. It required all 
 the prudence of Washington and the con 
 ciliatory tact of Greene to prevent this 
 quarrel from putting an abrupt termina 
 tion to the French alliance. The old anti- 
 Callicnn prejudice which the Americans 
 had inherited from England was aroused 
 to such an extent, that the French officers 
 in Boston were hooted in the streets ; and 
 in some of the seaports riots occurred, in 
 which French and American sailors came 
 to blows, that in several instances proved 
 fatal. 
 
 General Sullivan, though hopeless of 
 any aid from D Estaing, continued the 
 siege of Newport. Lafayette, how r ever, 
 trusting to his iniluence as a fello\v-coun- 
 trynien, and having volunteered to pro 
 ceed to Boston, in order to persuade the 
 French admiral to return to Rhode island, 
 was permitted to go. The young mar 
 quis, nevertheless, met with no success 
 beyond an offer on the part of the count, 
 who was rather more of a soldier than a 
 sailor, to march by land, with the French 
 troops of his fleet, to the succor of Sul 
 livan. 
 
 The American general, however, find 
 ing his militia deserting him by whole 
 regiments at a time, now gave up all 
 hopes of a successful siege of Newport, 
 and only thought of means of escape. 
 
 Aug. 29, 
 
 His chance of retreat was endangered by 
 the diminution of his force, but Sullivan 
 extricated himself with great prudence 
 
 and skill. Having sent off his 
 
 i 1-n i All 2G| 
 
 heavy artillery and baggage, tie 
 
 on the second night afterward retired 
 from before the British lines toward the 
 north end of the island, where he had first 
 landed. Here it was determined to for 
 tify the camp, and aw^ait the result of the 
 mission of Lafayette, who had gone off 
 very sanguine of its success. 
 
 Early on the next morning after the 
 Americans had begun to retreat, their de 
 parture was discovered by the 
 British, who immediately came 
 out in pursuit in full force. Greene, with 
 the regiments of Colonels Livingston and 
 Laurens, covered the American rear, and 
 gallantly kept off the enemy until Sulli 
 van had reached the northern end of the 
 island. Here the troops were drawn up 
 in order of battle. The British continued 
 to advance. Greene proposed that the 
 Americans should march to meet them, 
 as he believed that they were coming on 
 in separate detachments, and that they 
 might be advantageously fought in detail. 
 
 O Q */ O 
 
 His plan, however, was rejected as being 
 too hazardous, and it was determined to 
 remain on the defensive. 
 
 The enemy were now close at hand. 
 The Americans were well posted, with 
 two redoubts in front of their lines, and 
 waited confidently the approach of the 
 foe. On closing in, the British stationed 
 themselves on Quaker hill, facing the 
 American lines, and began a brisk can 
 nonade from their batteries, which was 
 well returned from the redoubts. The 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] SULLIVAN RETREATS. BRITISH DEVASTATIONS. 
 
 665 
 
 Aug. 30, 
 
 enemy now attempted to turn the Amer 
 ican right, in command of Greene, who 
 gave them a warm reception, and, being 
 reinforced by troops from the centre and 
 left, was soon enabled not only to defeat 
 the manoeuvre of the British, but to drive 
 them back with great slaughter. 
 
 On the following day, a Brit 
 ish squadron being seen off the 
 harbor, General Sullivan determined not 
 to linger any longer upon the island. As 
 the sentries of both armies were only four 
 hundred yards apart, the greatest caution 
 was necessary lest the enemy should be 
 come aware of his purpose, and interfere 
 with the retreat. The night was accord 
 ingly selected; and, during the day pre 
 ceding, tents were pitched, and the men 
 kept at work on the intrenchments, in or 
 der to make it appear that it was intend 
 ed to remain on the ground and resist to 
 the last. 
 
 The night came, and the camp-fires be 
 ing lighted, Sullivan began his retreat, 
 without exciting the suspicion of the en 
 emy. It was near midnight, and all had 
 been nearly accomplished, when Lafay 
 ette made his appearance, having ridden 
 in all haste from Boston, in order that he 
 might share in the engagement which he 
 knew to be imminent. He was greatly 
 mortified that lie had missed the light of 
 the preceding day. He arrived, however, 
 in time to aid in the retreat, and brought 
 84 
 
 off the pickets and covering-parties in ad 
 mirable order. Not a man was left be 
 hind on the island, and not a single ar 
 ticle lost. 
 
 General Sullivan had retired just in 
 time from Rhode island ; for the British 
 ships, of which he had caught a glimpse 
 off the coast, had Sir Henry Clinton on 
 board, with about four thousand troops. 
 Finding himself a day too late, Sir Henry 
 put to sea again, for New York. That 
 his enterprise, however, might not be 
 without some result, he, on leaving his 
 ships at New London, directed General 
 Sir Charles Grey ( No-flint Grey," as he 
 was called, from his fondness for the bay 
 onet) to proceed to New Bedford and ef 
 fect as much damage as he could. Grey 
 showed his usual promptitude in devas 
 tation, and laid waste an immense quan 
 tity of American property. He burned 
 ships (more than seventy in number), 
 magazines, stores, wharves, warehouses, 
 vessels on the stocks, mills, and dwellings, 
 amounting in value to hundreds of thou 
 sands of dollars. After laying New Bed 
 ford in ruins, General Grey proceeded to 
 Martha s Vineyard, where, after destroy 
 ing a few vessels, he mulcted the inhabit 
 ants, by a compulsory levy of arms, of 
 all the public funds, three hundred oxen, 
 and ten thousand sheep. He now re-em 
 barked and the squadron returned to New 
 York, laden with spoils. 
 
 . 
 
66G 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIV. 
 
 The American Naval Force. Difficulties and Casualties. Cruise of the Raleigh and the Alfred. Cruise of the Ranger. 
 John Paul Jones. His Life and Character. His Adventures. A " Hard Man." Cruelty. Abandons his Native 
 Country. His Arrival in Virginia. Command of an American Vessel. Arrival in France. Cruise off the English 
 Coast. Attack on Whitehaven. Raid Upon Lord Selkirk. The Family Plate. Naval Dignity. Capture of the 
 Drake. Return to France. Gallant Exploit of Rathburne Less Glory. Destruction of Vessels in the Delaware.- 
 Captain Barry. The Cruise of the Raleigh. Her Fate. Privateering. 
 
 1778, 
 
 THE United States had been very 
 unfortunate in their early attempts 
 to establish a naval force. The possession 
 of New York and Philadelphia by the en 
 emy, and their command of the Hudson 
 and the Delaware, had led to the destruc 
 tion of the principal men-of-war which 
 had been built by the Americans. The 
 few small vessels which had succeeded in 
 getting to sea, met with various fortunes. 
 The Randolph, a thirty-two gun ship, un 
 der the command of Cap tain Nicholas Bid- 
 die, a spirited young officer, had blown 
 up while in action with a British vessel, 
 the Yarmouth, off Barbadoes. The Han 
 cock, also of thirty-two guns, commanded 
 by Captain Manly, after a successful fight 
 or two, finally struck to a superior force, 
 and was taken as a prize, by the British, 
 into Halifax. The Raleigh and the Al 
 fred, commanded by Captain Thompson, 
 whose gallantry in sailing with his ship 
 into the midst of a whole squadron of 
 the enemy we have already had occasion 
 to describe, having made their voyage in 
 safety to France, now sailed on their re 
 turn to America. Their course was kept 
 well to the south, as was usual in those 
 days, in order to escape the large British 
 cruisers, and to pick up small West-India 
 
 traders. They had been several weeks 
 at sea, when the British ships Ariadne 
 and Ceres hove in sight and gave them 
 chase. The Raleigh was considerably in 
 advance of her escort, and escaped; but 
 the Alfred, being overtaken, and finding 
 it useless to fight with the odds of two 
 to one against her, struck. 
 
 The most memorable cruise of the year 
 was that of the Ranger, an eighteen-gun 
 ship. She is described as a crank, clum 
 sy vessel, with a gun-deck, but no arma 
 ment above, and a dull sailer. Her de 
 fects, however, were more than compen 
 sated by the excellent nautical qualities 
 of her commander, who was no less a per 
 sonage than the famous Paul Jones, " a 
 short, thick, lithe fellow, about five feet 
 eight inches in height, and of a dark, 
 swarthy complexion," as he is described. 
 
 JOHN PAUL was born on the Gth of July, 
 1747, at Arbigland, Selkirkshire, on the 
 frith of Sol way, in Scotland. His father 
 was the gardener of a Mr. Craik, a gen 
 tleman of property in that neighborhood. 
 The son, bred up on the seacoast, natu 
 rally took to a sailor s life, and at the age 
 of twelve years readily consented to be 
 come the apprentice of a shipmaster in 
 command of a small vessel trading with 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 JOHN PAUL JONES 
 
 667 
 
 the American colonies. This first brought 
 him to Virginia, where he found his broth 
 er, married and settled, and from whom 
 he acquired an inclination toward a colo 
 nial life. He was, however, obliged to re 
 turn, but did not remain long with his 
 master, whose bankruptcy released him 
 from his indentures. 
 
 Young John Paul s next transition w r as 
 to the forecastle of a slaver ; and subse 
 quently, by the death of the captain and 
 mate, to the quarter-deck, as commander. 
 In this capacity he served for several 
 years ; and it may be supposed that, al 
 though he was in a good school for the 
 improvement of his nautical skill and the 
 development of his daring qualities, he 
 was not likely to have his sensibilities 
 refined. 
 
 The youthful commander was already 
 known as a " hard man," and not seldom 
 complaints we re made of his cruelty by 
 his sailors. On one occasion, he was called 
 to account before a court in the West In 
 dies by Mungo Maxwell, one of his crew, 
 who complained of ill treatment. The 
 complaint was dismissed as frivolous ; but 
 Mungo, shipping soon after in another 
 vessel, died suddenly at sea, and there 
 were not wanting people to blame Cap 
 tain Paul for his death. This created a 
 prejudice, which, together with the ill re 
 pute of his occupation, clung to him so 
 tenaciously, that he determined to leave 
 his native country. 
 
 In 1773, his brother died, and John 
 Paul went to Virginia to settle. There, 
 changing his name simultaneously with 
 his life and country, he began his new 
 career as JOHN PAUL JONES. He had re 
 
 solved to quit the sea for ever, when the 
 Revolutionary War breaking out, he be 
 came an enthusiastic American patriot, 
 and was appointed, in consequence of his 
 well-known abilities as a seaman, a lieu 
 tenant in the navy. His first cruise was 
 in the Alfred, from which he was soon 
 transferred to the Providence as captain, 
 and again in a short time promoted to 
 the Ranger, the cruise of which we shall 
 now relate. 
 
 Jones had gone to France, with the 
 expectation of receiving the command of 
 the Indien ; but she had been given, pre 
 vious to his arrival, as a present to King 
 Louis XVI., and the ambitious young cap 
 tain had to content himself with the Ran 
 ger, which was thought quite unworthy 
 of so gallant a commander. He was prom 
 ised a better ship, but he had not the pa 
 tience to wait, and accordingly put into 
 Brest, to refit his vessel and prepare for 
 a cruise. 
 
 Having completed her- preparations, 
 the Ranger sailed for the Irish channel, 
 where Jones was perfectly " at 
 home," and knew almost every 
 foot on the land and fathom of the sea. 
 As he passed along the coast, he made 
 several prizes, and then bore away for 
 Whitehaven, England, with the intention 
 of burning the colliers crowded into that 
 port. The weather, however, was unfa 
 vorable for the project, and he sailed to 
 the north until he reached the coast of 
 Scotland, where, having pursued a reve 
 nue-vessel without success, he bore aw 7 ay 
 for Ireland. While off Carrickfergus, he 
 observed a vessel at anchor in the roads ; 
 and ha vino- learned from some fishermen, 
 
 April 10. 
 
668 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATtT II. 
 
 who boarded the Ranger, that she was 
 the Drake sloop-of-war, Jones determined 
 to run in and try to take her. 
 
 The night was chosen for the purpose ; 
 and Jones having, daring the daylight, ac 
 curately taken the hearings of the Drake, 
 now in the dark stood for the roads where 
 she was anchored. His intention was, to 
 brino; his vessel close to the bows of his 
 
 o 
 
 enemy ; but the anchor was not let go in 
 time, and she drifted astern of the Drake. 
 Jones, finding his object defeated, ordered 
 his cable to be cut; and, making sail, he 
 hauled his ship by the wind in all haste. 
 A gale coming on, he barely succeeded 
 in weathering the land, and getting back 
 into the channel. 
 
 The wind now being favorable, Captain 
 Jones determined to carry out his design 
 upon Whitehaven. The Ranger accord 
 ingly stood for the Cumberland coast, on 
 the English side of the channel, and soon 
 made the port which was the object of 
 attack, and out of which the captain had 
 often sailed in his early days when a tra 
 ding-skipper. He waited until night, and 
 then dividing -into two parties as many 
 of his crew as could be spared from the 
 ship, lowered his boats and pulled for the 
 shore. As he was familiar with the ground, 
 Jones took the lead in command of one 
 party, and his lieutenant Wallingford fol 
 lowed in charge of the other. The forts 
 were seized, the guns spiked, and the sen 
 tries gagged and bound. The men had 
 been provided with candles in lanterns, 
 which were to be used not only as lights, 
 but as torches to set fire to the shipping. 
 There was, however, some delay, and the 
 candles had sill burned out when they 
 
 were wanted for the secondary purpose. 
 The day was fast approaching, and there 
 was but little time to spare. The lieu 
 tenant and his party, therefore, giving up 
 all hope of success, took to their boat and 
 pulled back to the ship, without effecting 
 anything. 
 
 / o 
 
 The resolute captain, however, was not 
 to be thus balked of his purpose. So he 
 sent one of his men to a neighboring cot- 
 
 o O 
 
 tage, and obtained a candle. Thus pro 
 vided, Jones boarded a large ship in the 
 port, and with a barrel of tar kindled a 
 fire in her steerage, and soon had her in 
 flames. As the tide was out, and the ves 
 sel lay high and dry in the midst of a 
 large fleet of other craft, he was in hopes 
 that they would all take fire, and his ob 
 ject be thus effectually accomplished. The 
 burning ship soon alarmed the inhabit 
 ants, w ho rushed out in numbers, crowd 
 ing the adjacent heights, and thronging 
 to the rescue of the shipping. Jones and 
 his party still remained ashore, and with 
 their drawn hangers presenting a resolute 
 attitude, kept back the people till it was 
 thought that the ship was sufficiently in 
 flames to secure a general conflagration, 
 and then the captain drew off his men to 
 their boat, and pulled back for the Ran 
 
 ker. 
 
 The inhabitants, however, succeeded in 
 extinguishing the fire before it had done 
 much harm to the shipping ; and, recov 
 ering somewhat from their panic, they 
 were enabled to bring a gun or two to 
 bear upon Jones s boat, but not in time 
 to reach it with a single shot. The fright 
 
 o Q 
 
 produced by this audacious attempt was 
 such that, even to this day, the name of 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 JONES ON THE BRITISH COAST. 
 
 600 
 
 PAUL JONES is a terror nlong the whole 
 English coast. 
 
 The Ranger now stood for the oppo 
 site shore of Solway frith ; and Captain 
 Jones again took to his boats, and landed 
 a party at the mouth of the Dee, near to 
 the town of Kirkcudbright, on the Scot 
 tish coast. Jones was here upon his na 
 tive soil, and knew every point of rock 
 and inch of ground. He at once led his 
 men to St. Mary s isle, where the earl of 
 Selkirk had a country-seat, and where 
 Jones is said to have lived while his fa 
 ther was in his lordship s service. The 
 earl and his family were absent, and the 
 servants left in charge were overpowered 
 and the mansion plundered. One of the 
 officers brought away with him a quanti 
 ty of the family plate, whereat the cap 
 tain was greatly indignant, it being in his 
 opinion an act quite unbecoming the dig 
 nity of a naval officer. He accordingly 
 determined to restore it, and, having paid 
 his crew out of his own pocket the sum 
 of a hundred pounds sterling (the sup 
 posed value of the plunder, which they 
 claimed as their prize), he sent back the 
 plate, with a courteous note to the count 
 ess of Selkirk, expressive of his regret 
 that it had been carried off. 
 
 Jones fretted to think that the Drake 
 had escaped him, and it was a point of 
 honor with him to make another attempt 
 at her capture. He accordingly sailed 
 again for the Irish coast, and was pleased 
 to find, on arriving off" Carrickfergus, that 
 the Drake still lay in the roads. The 
 saucy Ranger was soon observed from the 
 English man-of-war, and a boat sent out 
 to discover who the stranger was. and 
 
 what she wanted. As soon as he saw the 
 boat, Jones began to manoeuvre his ves 
 sel in such a way, that only her stern 
 could be seen. The British officer in com 
 mand was thus induced to pull alongside 
 the Ranger, which was just what Jones 
 wanted, as it gave him the opportunity, 
 of which he immediately took advantage, 
 of seizing the boat, officer, and crew. From 
 his prisoners he learned that intelligence 
 of the Ranger s audacious proceedings at 
 Whitehaven and St. Mary s isle had reach 
 ed Ireland, and that the commander of 
 the Drake was on the alert. 
 
 Jones expected that the detention of 
 the boat would bring the Drake herself 
 out in search of it, and in this expecta 
 tion he was not disappointed. The Eng 
 lish ship immediately got under way in 
 the roads, but soon lay to, waiting for the 
 Ranger to come on. Jones, however, stood 
 off the land, in order to draw his antago 
 nist more into the channel. The Drake, 
 observing the manoeuvre, began to work 
 out of the roads; but, as the tide was 
 against her, she moved slowly, and did 
 not succeed in drawing near the Ranker 
 
 o o 
 
 until almost nightfall; but she came out 
 defiantly, with her decks crowded with 
 volunteers, eager for a brush with "the 
 American privateer," and accompanied by 
 a number of small craft to see the fight. 
 As soon as the Drake closed in suffi 
 ciently, she hailed her antagonist, and 
 asked her name ; which she received, with 
 a challenge to come on. The two ships 
 were standing on. The wind was light, 
 and such as to admit of but little manoeu 
 vring. As the Drake was somewhat to 
 
 o 
 
 leeward and astern, the Ranger put her 
 
 i 
 
670 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 helm up. The enemy followed suit, when 
 Jones poured in his first broadside. The 
 two vessels, now running free under easy 
 canvas, continued to cannonade each oth 
 er for an hour and four minutes, when the 
 Drake, hauling down her ensign, called 
 for quarter. She had suffered severely, 
 her hull and rigging being well cut up, 
 her captain and lieutenant wounded mor 
 tally, and forty of her crew killed or dis 
 abled. The Ranger, although carrying 
 fewer guns and a smaller crew, suffered 
 much less than her antagonist. Lieuten 
 ant Wallingford and one of the crew were 
 the only killed, and there were but five 
 wounded. 
 
 Captain Jones, putting a crew on board 
 his prize, and securing his prisoners, sailed 
 away triumphantly, with the captured 
 Drake in company, for France. Pie took 
 the North channel, and, although chased 
 repeatedly on his round-about 
 passage by British ships-of-war, 
 succeeded in reaching Brest in safety 
 with his prize. 
 
 A gallant little exploit was achieved 
 by Captain Rathburne, in command of the 
 Providence, a twelve-gun sloop. Her met 
 al was only of the weight of four-pound 
 ers, and she carried a crew of but fifty 
 men. Rathburne, however, with his little 
 vessel, bore for New Providence, one of 
 the Bahamas, and lauded on the island 
 with twenty-five men. Here he was joined 
 by about thirty Americans, who were held 
 as prisoners by the British authorities; 
 and with this small force he r took posses 
 sion of the forts and stores, and in fact of 
 the whole island. The vessels in the har 
 bor, six in number, among which there 
 
 May 8, 
 
 was a privateer of sixteen guns, fell into 
 his hands. The inhabitants attempted to 
 overpower him, but Rathburne kept them 
 in check by threatening to set fire to the 
 town. After holding the place for two 
 days (during which a British sloop-of-war 
 looked into the harbor, but finding the 
 Americans in possession, she hurried off 
 again), Rathburne withdrew. On leav 
 ing, however, he spiked all the guns of 
 the fort, burned two of his prizes, and 
 took off with him all the ammunition and 
 the rest of the vessels. In this daring 
 expedition the Americans did not lose a 
 man. The very audacity of the enter 
 prise filled the enemy with such terror, 
 that they were not capable of striking a 
 blow in their defence. 
 
 A less glorious fortune than that of the 
 little Providence awaited some of the ves 
 sels lately built. The Virginia, a twenty- 
 eight gun ship, had just been launched, 
 and w r as proceeding down the Chesapeake 
 on her first cruise, in command of Captain 
 Nicholson, when she got aground during 
 the night, and lost her rudder. Her an 
 chor was let go, and the next morning, 
 as preparations were being made to refit 
 her, two British vessels-of-war were ob 
 served near at hand. Captain Nicholson 
 now thought it advisable to leave her, and 
 went ashore with his papers, while the 
 enemy took possession of his ship. Con 
 gress, after investigating the conduct of 
 the captain, acquitted him of all blame, 
 although there were many who censured 
 him for deserting his vessel. 
 
 We have already had occasion, in speak 
 ing of the movements of the British while 
 in possession of Philadelphia, to allude to 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] CRUISE OF CAPTAIN BARRY AND THE RALEIGH. 
 
 671 
 
 the destruction of the American vessels 
 on the Delaware. It is appropriate that in 
 this chapter we should narrate the facts 
 more in detail. 
 
 E;irly in May, an expedition, headed 
 by Major Maitland, left Philadelphia, and 
 ascended the Delaware, in order to de 
 stroy the American vessels which had been 
 taken above the city for the purpose of 
 escaping the British men-of-war below. 
 To the land-force of a battalion of light- 
 infantry and two fieldpieces was joined 
 a flotilla, under the command of Captain 
 Henry of the British navy, consisting of 
 the schooners Viper and Pembroke, the 
 galleys Hussar, Cornwallis, Ferret, and 
 Philadelphia, four gun-boats, and eighteen 
 flat-boats. 
 
 The- expedition succeeded in its pur 
 pose, without the least show of resistance. 
 Landing a little above Bristol, the enemy 
 burnt the Washington, of thirty-two guns, 
 and the Effmgham, of twenty-eight, both 
 of which, being new ships, had never been 
 to sea ; also several privateers, and a num 
 ber of merchantmen. Their next point 
 was Crosswise creek, where the Sturdy 
 Beggar, an eighteen-gun privateer, and 
 eight other vessels, were destroyed. Six 
 more craft were set fire to at Bill s island ; 
 and on descending the river, on their re 
 turn to Philadelphia, the British burned 
 as many more, among which were proba 
 bly the Hornet, the Sachem, the Independ 
 ence, and the Musqueto, as nothing is re 
 corded of them after that period. 
 
 Captain Barry, whose spirited capture 
 of the enemy s armed storeships in the 
 Delaware has already been described, had 
 soon another opportunity of distinguish 
 
 ing himself. The Raleigh had been taken 
 from Captain Thompson, in consequence 
 of his having allowed his consort the Al 
 fred to be captured by the enemy without 
 going to her assistance, and was now given 
 to Barry. 
 
 " Under the orders of this new com 
 mander," says Cooper, of whose authority 
 as a naval historian we have freely availed 
 ourselves, " the Raleigh sailed from Bos 
 ton on the 25th of September, at six in 
 the morning, having a brig and a sloop 
 under convoy. The wind was fresh at 
 northwest, and the frigate ran off north 
 east. At twelve, two strange sail were 
 seen to leeward, distant fifteen or sixteen 
 miles. Orders were given to the convoy 
 to haul nearer to the wind, and to crowd 
 all the sail it could carry, the strangers in 
 chase. After dark the Raleigh lost sight 
 of the enemy, as by this time the two 
 ships were ascertained to be, and the wind 
 became light and variable. 
 
 " The Raleigh now cleared for action, 
 and kept her people at quarters all night, 
 having tacked toward the land. In the 
 morning it proved to be hazj 7 , and the 
 strangers were not to be seen. The Ra 
 leigh was still standing toward the land, 
 which she shortly afterward made ahead, 
 quite near. About noon, the haze clear 
 ing away, the enemy were seen in the 
 southern board, and to windward, crowd 
 ing sail in chase. The weather became 
 thick again, and the Raleigh lost sight of 
 her two pursuers, when she hauled off to 
 the eastward. 
 
 " Finding nothing visible at six in the 
 morning, the Raleigh crowded sail once 
 more, and stood southeast by east. At 
 
672 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 . 26, 
 
 half-past nine, the two ships were 
 
 . ,. -, 
 
 again discovered astern, and in 
 
 chase. The Raleigh now hauled close 
 upon a wind, heading northwest, with her 
 larboard tacks aboard. The enemy also 
 came to the wind, all three vessels carry 
 ing hard with a staggering breeze. The 
 Raleigh now fairly outsailed the stran 
 gers, running eleven knots two fathoms, 
 on a dragged bowline." 
 
 Oo 
 
 Unfortunately., at noon the wind mod 
 erated, when the leading vessel of the en 
 emy overhauled the Raleigh quite fast, 
 and even the ship astern held way with 
 her. At four o clock in the afternoon, the 
 Raleigh tacked to the westward, with a 
 view to discover the force of the advanced 
 vessel in pursuit; while at the same time 
 she made several signals, which were not 
 recognised. " At live o clock, the leading 
 vessel of the enemy having nearly closed, 
 the Raleigh edged away and crossed her 
 forefoot, b railing her mizzen and taking 
 
 / O O 
 
 in her staysails." In passing, the Raleigh 
 delivered her broadside, which was re 
 turned by her antagonist, who set the St. 
 George s ensign, and showed her force, 
 which proved to be a battery of fourteen 
 guns of a side, including both decks. The 
 Englishman now came up under the lee 
 quarter of the Raleigh, and the two were 
 soon warmly engaged ; but the former, 
 apparently getting the worst of it, shot 
 ahead. 
 
 The Raleigh having lost her fore-top 
 mast and mizzen-top-gallantmast. her crew 
 were busy in clearing the wreck ; and an 
 opportunity was thus given to the enemy 
 to get to the windward, and fire at the 
 disabled vessel from a distance. The Eu<>- 
 
 lishman, however, soon edged away, and 
 made an attempt to rake the Raleigh ; 
 when Barry, finding that, with the loss 
 of his spars, he could not manoeuvre his 
 ship as he had done before, bore up and 
 bringing her alongside strove to board 
 his antagonist. But the enemy, having 
 all his canvas, and sailing best in the light 
 wind then blowing, succeeded in defeat 
 ing the American s object. 
 
 The Englishman s consort now draw 
 ing near, Barry called a council of his 
 officers, when, as in the crippled condi 
 tion of the ship there was no chance of 
 escaping by flight, it was determined to 
 run her ashore upon one of the unknown 
 islands observed early in the afternoon, 
 and which was now only a few miles dis 
 tant. The Raleigh therefore wore round, 
 and stood directly for the land, with her 
 antagonist close to her side, while both 
 ships in the meantime kept up a brisk fire. 
 Thus they continued till midnight, when 
 the Englishman hauled off, for fear of 
 grounding, and left the Raleigh to pursue 
 her dangerous course alone among the 
 islands. 
 
 Captain Barry now began to bend new 
 sails, with the hope of escaping, as he was 
 concealed by the increasing darkness of 
 the night. It was not long, however, be 
 fore both of the enemy s ships again hove 
 in sight, closing fast. The Raleigh wan 
 driven with all speed right on the land, 
 firing her stern-guns as she went, which 
 
 O o 7 
 
 kept off her pursuers awhile. They nev 
 ertheless soon renewed the attack, pour 
 ing in their shot, which Barry gallantly 
 returned until his ship struck the ground. 
 The enemy hauled oftj to avoid a similar 
 
MOVEMENTS OF WASHINGTON UP THE HUDSON. 
 
 673 
 
 fate, and, taking a position at a safe dis 
 tance 011 the Raleigh s quarter, opened 
 their broadsides upon her. Barry now 
 determined to land, to burn his ship, and 
 defend the island. He had got a large 
 portion of his crew ashore, and was about 
 returning for the rest, when he found that 
 the Raleigh, through the treachery of one 
 of his officers, had struck to the enemy ! 
 Barry and his men escaped from the isl 
 andwhich proved to be Wooden Bell, 
 one of the group of rocky islands ott the 
 mouth of the Penobscot and on reach 
 ing the mainland, and relating the ac 
 count of their struggle, were greatly ap 
 plauded for their gallantry. 
 
 The Raleigh was immediately taken 
 
 possession of by the two antagonist ships, 
 which turned out to be the Experiment, 
 of fifty guns, Captain Wallace, and the 
 Unicorn, of twenty-two. It was the latte 
 which clung so closely and so obstinately 
 to the Raleigh during the long engage 
 ment. She was well cut up in hull and 
 rigging, and had ten men killed and a 
 considerable number wounded. The en 
 tire loss of the Americans was twenty- 
 five killed and wounded. 
 
 Little else, beyond what has been nar 
 rated in this chapter, was done or suffered 
 during the year 1778 by the navy of the 
 United States, privateering was, howev 
 er, carried on with great spirit and suc 
 cess. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXY. 
 
 Washington at Wkite Plains. Strengthening of Forts and Highlands of the North River. General Putnam at West 
 Point. Small Designs of Sir Henry Clinton. Attack on Egg Harbor. Washington at Fishkill. Lord Comwallis 
 plans a Surprise.- General Wayne timely warned. Baylor less fortunate. "No-Flint Grey." Yagers caught. 
 Cruelty of Grey. A Worthy Son, Earl Grey. Devastation at Egg Harhor. Work of Death. Indians rooted out. 
 A Formidable Expedition. Suffering: Return from Schoharie. A Salvo of Artillery. Tories and Savages. 
 Butler and his Rangers. Cherry Valley. Massacre. Cruel Indians and Hardened Partisans. General Sullivan 
 sent against the Indians. Desolation. A Severe Lesson. The Savage less formidable. 
 
 1778. 
 
 WASHINGTON, after moving his en 
 campment from BrunswicK to Pa- 
 ramus, finally quitted New Jersey, and, 
 crossing the Hudson, took post at White 
 Plains, in Westchester county, New York. 
 Here he remained until September, when 
 he made a different disposition of his ar 
 my, with the view of protecting both the 
 Highlands of the Hudson and New Eng 
 land, either of which it was thought might 
 be the object of the extensive prepara- 
 85 
 
 tions being made by Sir Henry Clinton 
 in New York. Washington accordingly 
 strengthened the forts on the North river, 
 and posted General Putnam with two bri 
 gades at West Point. G eneral Gates with 
 three brigades, and General M Dougall 
 with two, were despatched to D anbury, 
 in Connecticut; while Washington him 
 self encamped his main body at Freder- 
 icksburg, on the borders of Connecticut, 
 and about thirty miles distant from West 
 
074 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [FART n. 
 
 Point, in order that lie might be in readi 
 ness to defend either the Hudson or New 
 England, as the plans of the enemy should 
 render necessary. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton, however, did not ap 
 pear to have any very extensive military 
 designs, and contented himself with ap- 
 
 O - 1 - 
 
 parently insignificant forays. He now 
 planned an attack upon Little Egg Har 
 bor, on the New-Jersey coast, where the 
 Americans had a number of privateers 
 and prizes, and some extensive salt-works. 
 But, in order to divert the attention of 
 Washington from his object, and at the 
 same time to procure a supply of forage 
 and fresh provisions for his troops, the 
 British general-in-chief sent Lord Corn- 
 wallis with one detachment to New Jer 
 sey, and General Knyphausen with an 
 other to the cast side of tlte Hudson. These 
 two, being separated only by the river, 
 and well supplied with boats, were able to 
 form a junction within twenty-four hours 
 and thus with their combined troops pre 
 sent a very formidable force. 
 
 Washington, on discovering this move 
 ment, believed its object was to forage, 
 and therefore sent General Wayne with 
 a detachment of troops to aid the militia 
 of New Jersey in checking the enemy. 
 In order, however, to be ready for any 
 more serious attempt which might be 
 made upon the forts on the Hudson, Put 
 nam was directed to be on the alert nt 
 West Point, and Washington himself with 
 a division of his army marched to Fish- 
 kill. 
 
 General Wayne had posted himself at 
 New Tappan, with the militia; but Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Baylor had taken up his 
 
 quarters, with his detachment of light- 
 horse, at Old Tappan, near the enemy. 
 Lord Cornwallis now devised a scheme 
 with Knyphausen for surprising the en 
 tire American force. The former was to 
 send a detachment to take the Americans 
 under Wayne ; while the latter was to 
 throw across the river another detach 
 ment, to take those under Baylor. Some 
 deserters from Knyphausen s troops, how 
 ever, having gone over to General Wayne, 
 gave him timely warning, by which he 
 was enabled to defeat the Hessians part 
 in the scheme. 
 
 Baylor was less fortunate. His men, 
 quite unconscious of the movement, lay 
 unguardedly in barns, when. General Sir 
 Charles Grey, who had been despatched 
 for the purpose by Lord Cornwallis, came 
 suddenly upon them in the middle of the 
 night, Having cutoff the sergeant s pa 
 trol of twelve men quickly, the enemy 
 were enabled to fall upon Baylor s troop 
 ers while they were asleep and unarmed. 
 "No-Hint Grey," with his usual faith in 
 cold steel, ordered his men to take the 
 flints out of their muskets, that they might 
 be confined entirely to the use of their 
 bayonets. They thus rushed in upon the 
 helpless dragoons, who, finding themselves 
 unable to strike a blow in their defence, 
 sued for quarter. Little quarter, howev 
 er, was given ; and the merciless enemy 
 were thrusting their bayonets wherever 
 they could find any sign of life, until one 
 of the British officers, less ferocious than 
 his commander, interposed and saved the 
 lives of forty prisoners. Sixty-seven, out 
 of the one hundred and four of Baylor s 
 company, were either killed, wounded, 01 
 
taken. Baylor himself escaped with a 
 severe but not a dangerous wound. 
 
 " It was a small compensation" for this 
 affair, as Washington said, that Colonel 
 Butler, three or four days subsequently, 
 with a party of infantry and Major Lee s 
 light-horse, surprised about a hundred 
 German yagers (riflemen) below Tarry- 
 town, killed ten on the spot, and took a 
 lieutenant and eighteen men prisoners. 
 
 The American public was greatly in 
 dignant at the cruelty of Grey, and did 
 not hesitate to term his action a cold 
 blooded massacre. Grey made himself 
 memorable by his unsparing cruelty, but 
 was considered so efficient a servant by 
 those who employed him, that he was 
 soon after raised to the peerage, as a re 
 ward for his military services. He gave 
 birth to Earl Grey, the famous whig min 
 ister, who was as firm an advocate for lib 
 erty as his father was a rigid executioner 
 of tyranny. 
 
 The expedition to Little Egg Harbor, 
 on iJie eastern coast of New Jersey, was 
 in the meantime in full progress. 
 Captain Ferguson was selected 
 to conduct this enterprise, and he sailed 
 from New York with three hundred reg 
 ular troops and a number of New-Jersey 
 royalists. The people at Egg Harbor, 
 having heard of his coming, sent out to 
 sea such of the privateers as could be got 
 ready; hauled the larger vessels, chieil y 
 
 / / O / 
 
 prizes, to Chestnut Neck, about twenty 
 miles from the mouth of the river; and 
 the smaller privateers and other craft still 
 farther. None but those which put to 
 sea,, however, escaped the insatiable Fer 
 guson. On reaching Egg Harbor, and 
 
 Oct. 8, 
 
 REVOLUTIONARY.] BRITISH EXPEDITION TO LITTLE EGG HARBOR. C7f> 
 
 not being able to enter with the trans 
 ports, the troops took to the boats, and 
 pushed up the river until they arrived at 
 Chestnut Neck, where they landed. Here 
 all the vessels, shipyards, store and dwel 
 ling houses, and salt-works, were burned. 
 These were inglorious enterprises for the 
 Britons, but they inflicted great injury 
 upon the Americans, and especially upon 
 privateering, which had become a very 
 effective though independent branch of 
 service. The purpose of the enemy was 
 to destroy those places where the priva 
 teers were chiefly built, fitted out, and 
 supplied for sea, 
 
 On Ferguson s return to the ships, he 
 found a French captain and several pri 
 vates, who had deserted from Count Pu- 
 laski s legion, then stationed in New Jer 
 sey. They gave such an account of the 
 careless manner in which three troops of 
 horse and the same number of companies 
 of infantry were cantoned, at no great dis 
 tance, that the British naval and military 
 officers made up their minds to beat up 
 their quarters. The ships were accord 
 ingly moved along the coast to a favora 
 ble point, and two hundred and 
 fifty men embarked in boats. Af 
 ter rowing ten miles, the troops landed 
 and took possession of an unguarded 
 bridge, to which they were directed by 
 the deserters, as necessary to secure their 
 return to the vessels. Having posted a 
 guard at the bridge, the rest of the men 
 pushed on. After a short march in the 
 darkness and silence of the night, they 
 came suddenly upon Pulaski s force ; and 
 the cruel Ferguson, as ruthlessly as "No- 
 flint Grey," bayoneted fifty of them with- 
 
 Oct. 15. 
 
GV8 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART n. 
 
 Oct. 1. 
 
 out heeding their cries for quarter ! Two 
 French officers were left among the dead, 
 Baron de Bos-e and Lieutenant de la Bor- 
 .lerie. As soon as Pulaski was aroused, 
 he brought his cavalry to the rescue, and 
 the enemy were thus driven away from 
 their work of death. 
 
 The American loyalists and their sav 
 age confederates the Indians had, by their 
 ruthless depredations, excited so much in 
 dignation, that it was determined to at 
 tack them in their haunts and root them 
 but. Accordingly, Colonel William But 
 ler set out from Schoharie coun 
 ty. New York, with a Pennsylva 
 nia regiment, and some riflemen and ran- 
 
 o 
 
 gers to act as scouts. [laving gained the 
 head-waters of the Delaware, he marched 
 for two clays along its banks, and then 
 crossed the Alleghany mountains to the 
 Susquehanna. The journey was toilsome 
 and dangerous. Each man carried on his 
 back provisions for six days, and, thus 
 loaded down, was forced to wade through 
 
 7 o 
 
 streams and to swim rivers. As the sol 
 diers were without tents, they were ex 
 posed to the heavy rains and cold nights 
 of that autumnal season. They reached 
 their destination, however, but were dis 
 appointed in finding that the Indians and 
 tory settlers had by flight cheated them 
 of their revenge. After having totally 
 destroyed every Indian fort and village, 
 and laid waste the tory settlements, But 
 ler led his men back. 
 
 The hardships of the return were still 
 more formidable than those of the ad 
 vance march. The smaller streams and 
 the Susquehanna itself had become great 
 ly swollen by the heavy rains. The pa 
 
 triots were in an enemy s country, their 
 provisions were nearly consumed, and it 
 seemed impracticable for them to con 
 tinue their journey. Butler, nevertheless, 
 overcame every obstacle. He mounted 
 his men, one after another, upon the few 
 horses which he had brought with him. 
 and, forcing the animals to swim the swol 
 len* waters, succeeded in getting them all 
 over in safety. On their arrival in Scho 
 harie, they were so overjoyed at reaching 
 their homes, of which they had almost 
 despaired, that they gave vent to their 
 happiness by firing thirteen round of can 
 non and a feu de joie of musketry. 
 
 The tories and their Indian allies, not 
 withstanding, continued as active in their 
 cruelties as ever. Walter Butler (the son 
 of Colonel John Butler, who led the at 
 tack against Wyoming in the preceding 
 July), having escaped from his prison at 
 Albany, where his neck had only been 
 saved from the gallows by the interposi 
 tion of some of his father s friends, was 
 now thirsting for revenge. The elder 
 Butler soon gave his son the opportunity 
 which he sought. A detachment of ran 
 gers, and the Indians with Brant the fa 
 mous Mohawk chief as their leader, were 
 placed under the command of young But 
 ler, to carry out an expedition against the 
 settlers of Try on county. 
 
 Walter Butler, eager for the enterprise, 
 hastened from Niagara with his rangers. 
 and formed a junction with the Indians 
 at Genesee. Brant disliked young But 
 ler, and was moreover piqued at being 
 obliged to serve in subjection to so youth 
 ful a leader. He was, however, finally 
 prevailed upon to join the expedition. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] SULLIVAN DEVASTATES THE INDIAN COUNTRY 
 
 677 
 
 which now numbered a combined force 
 of seven hundred men. 
 
 Cherry Valley, situated near the head 
 waters of the eastern branch of the Sus- 
 qnehanna, within the state of New York, 
 was the chief object of the proposed at 
 tack, as it was the most thriving of all 
 the settlements. Colonel Ichabod Alden, 
 with two hundred and fifty men, was in 
 command of the fort called by his name. 
 Fort Alden was, however, merely a strong 
 stone dwelling-house, which had been for 
 tified, and surrounded with rude pickets 
 and earthen embankments. The colonel 
 had been duly informed of the approach 
 of his barbarous enemy, but he gave no 
 heed to the intelligence. The inhabit 
 ants, nevertheless, were greatly alarmed, 
 and begged that they and their most val 
 uable property might be received within 
 the fort. Alden, ridiculing their fears, re 
 fused, and was only prevailed upon by 
 their earnest entreaties to send out scouts 
 to gain information, and to keep guard 
 against any sudden surprise. 
 
 The scouts seem to have shared in the 
 confident security of their colonel ; for, 
 on being sent out, they had not gone far, 
 when they lighted a fire, and laid them 
 selves down to sleep. The enemy caught 
 them napping and made them prisoners, 
 and, obtaining from them the intelligence 
 which they wished, pushed on and took 
 post upon a wooded hill that overlooked 
 the settlement of Cherry Valley. Here 
 they encamped until the next morning, 
 
 when they rushed into the vil- 
 IVov, 10, . ... 
 
 lageand began an indiscriminate 
 
 O O 
 
 slaughter of the defenceless innabitants. 
 Whole families were destroyed by the 
 
 1779, 
 
 savage invaders. Old men. women, and 
 children, appealed equally in vain to the 
 cruel instincts of the Indian and the still 
 more cruel ferocity of the hardened par 
 tisan. 
 
 In the course of the next year, Wash 
 ington determined to strike a de 
 cisive blow against the Indians in 
 their homes and haunts. He accordingly 
 placed a considerable body of continental 
 troops under the command of General 
 Sullivan, to whom was soon after joined 
 General Clinton, of New York, with one 
 thousand men. The Mohawks, or the Six 
 Nations* as they were termed, were the 
 principal objects of the expedition. These 
 tribes inhabited the fertile tract of land 
 lying between New England, the middle 
 states, and the province of Canada. At 
 the beginning of the Revolutionary War. 
 they had pledged themselves to neutrali 
 ty, but soon proved faithless to their word. 
 The Oneidas, and a few besides, alone re 
 mained faithful ; while the rest, won over 
 by the Johnsons and the profuse gifts of 
 the British agents, became hostile to the 
 
 Americans, and destroved their lives and 
 
 ./ 
 
 property on every occasion. 
 
 The Indians, on becoming aware of the 
 approach of the Americans, made prepa- 
 
 * This confederacy of Indians, first known as the "Five 
 Nations," was composed of the Scnecas, Cayugas, Oneidas, 
 Oriondagas, and Mohawks; but, in 1713, the Tuscaroras, 
 being driven out of the Carolinas by the whites, migrated 
 northward and joined the former tribes, who were thence 
 called the " Six Nations." After Sullivan s expedition, a 
 large portion of them moved to Canada (from which coun 
 try they appear to have been forced southward at a remote 
 period by the great confederacy of the Algonquins). The 
 warlike Senccas and others of the Six Nations, or Iroqiiois, 
 as the French called them, in their migrations spread their 
 deadly hostility to the American whites throughout all the 
 tribes of the Northwest. 
 
678 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 l_PAUT 
 
 rations to meet them. They concentrated 
 their forces, selected a good position, and 
 fortified it with considerable skill. For 
 two hours they stood their ground man 
 fully against the whole of Sullivan s force, 
 but were finally compelled to give way j 
 before his artillery. The savages, once 
 driven from their stronghold, made not ; 
 an effort to rally, but fled in despair. | 
 Sullivan s avenging troops pursued them 
 closely, and, penetrating into the heart of 
 their country, spread desolation every 
 where.* 
 
 " Many settlements," says Bamsay, " in 
 the form of towns, were destroyed. All j 
 their fields of corn, and whatever was in 
 a state of cultivation, underwent the same 
 fate. Scarcely anything in the form of a | 
 house was left standing, nor was an In 
 dian to be seen. To the surprise of the 
 Americans, they found the lands about 
 the Indian towns well cultivated, and their 
 houses both large and commodious. The 
 quantity of corn destroyed was immense.^ 
 Orchards, in which were several hundred 
 fruit-trees, were cut down ; and of them 
 many appeared to have been planted for 
 a long series of years. Their gardens, 
 replenished with a variety of useful ve 
 getables, were laid waste. J 
 
 * Tliis region of country, then known as Tryon countv, 
 hut now comprising Chemung and other counties, received, 
 from the cruel devastations and massacres of the savages, 
 the appellation of The Dark and Blood;/ Ground. 
 
 \ It was estimated that not less than a hundred and sixty 
 thousand hushels of corn in the granaries and fields were 
 thus destroyed. In one fortnight tin s beautiful country was 
 cast hack a century in its progress toward civilization. 
 
 J Washington, who had conceived amV planned this most 
 righteous expedition, and ordered its rigid execution in the 
 manner in which it was performed, received from the sav- 
 nges the name of An-nn-ta-kau-lcs, wtiich signifies, in the 
 Seneca language, trwn-drst.roi/i r. At a council held in Phil 
 adelphia, iw 1702, Corn-Planter, the distinguished Seneca 
 
 " The Americans were so full of resent 
 ment against the Indians for the many out 
 rages they had suffered from them, and so 
 bent on making the expedition decisive, 
 that the officers and soldiers cheerfully 
 agreed to remain till they had fully com 
 pleted the destruction of the settlement. 
 The supplies obtained in the country les 
 sened the inconvenience of short rations. 
 The ears of corn were so remarkably 
 large, that many of them measured twen 
 ty-two inches in length." Necessity suo;- 
 
 */ o / o 
 
 gested a novel method of grinding the 
 grains. The soldiers thrust their bayo 
 nets through the camp-kettles, and thus 
 produced a rough surface upon which 
 they rubbed the corn into a coarse meal. 
 This severe lesson had its effect upon 
 the Indians, who became thenceforward 
 less bold in their cruelties and depreda 
 tions. The frontiers now enjoyed com 
 parative security from the incursions of 
 the savages. Brant and his tory confed 
 erates still fostered their wolfish propen 
 sities in their lair at Niagara, and would 
 occasionally find an opportunity to glut 
 them in the blood and spoils of the un 
 guarded settlers. These occasions, how 
 ever, after General Sullivan s successful 
 raid became known, were availed of with 
 
 chief, thus addressed President Washington: "FATHER 
 The voice of the Seneca nation speaks to yon, the great 
 counsellor, in whose heart the wise men of all the thirteen 
 fires have placed their wisdom. It may be very small in 
 vour ears, and therefore we entreat you to hearken with at 
 tention, for we arc about to speak to yon of things which to 
 us arc very great. When your army entered the country of 
 the Six Nations, we called you Tlic. Town- Destroy er ; and to 
 this dav, when that name is heard, our wcrn.cn look behind 
 them and turn pale, and our children cling close tc the necks 
 of their mothers. Our counsellors and warriors are men, 
 and can not be afraid ; but their hearts are grieved with the 
 fears of our women and children, and desire that it may ho 
 buried so deep that it may be heard no more,." 
 
EVOLUTIONARY.] LAFAYETTE PLANS THE CONQUEST OF CANADA. 
 
 679 
 
 less frequency and more timid caution. 
 Nevertheless, Brant, with sixty of his sav 
 ages and twenty-seven white men attack 
 ed the Mininsink settlement du- 
 July 23, . /i^n\ 
 
 ring the same summer (1779), 
 
 and burnt ten houses, twelve barns, a fort, 
 and two mills. He moreover carried off 
 several prisoners and a large quantity of 
 plunder. The neighboring militia gath 
 ered together and went in pursuit, but 
 were driven back by the Indians. 
 
 In South Carolina, Generals William 
 son and Pickens carried out an expedi 
 tion like that of Sullivan, and with simi 
 lar success. The villages and harvests of 
 the savages were destroyed, and they 
 themselves forced to fly beyond the fron 
 tiers. Colonel Broadhead, too, was equal 
 ly successful in Pennsylvania. The In 
 dians from this time became much less 
 formidable, although we shall yet have 
 an occasional atrocity to record. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVI. 
 
 Lafayette in a " Cul de Sac." A Brilliant Flight. Cheeked by Washington. Return of Lafayette to France. Tlio 
 Ship Alliance. The Voyage. A Conspiracy. Its Terrible Objects. The Disclosure. The Conspiracy put down. 
 An Enemy avoided. Arrival at Brest. Lafayette in High Favor. A Formal and Royal Rebuke. His Reception 
 by Queen Marie Antoinette. Commander of the King s Guard. Washington s Winter-Quarters. Disposition of tho 
 Troops. Hutting. Washington visits Philadelphia. General Putnam in Trouble with his Troops. A Rebellion 
 quelled. Jollity in the Camp. A Christmas Dinner. A Holyday. A " Splendid Entertainment." Hospitality at 
 Headquarters. Colonel Hamilton at the Dinner-Table. Visit of Monsieur Gerard. A Grand Review. Native Gen 
 tlemen. General Gayetv. An Occasional Duel. Affection under the Gallows. 
 
 1778, 
 
 LAFAVETTE, while shut up in a cul 
 de sac, as he termed it, at Bristol, on 
 a neck of land, with a bay on the one side 
 arid a river on the other (where General 
 Sullivan had placed him, after the retreat 
 from Rhode island, to watch the motions 
 of the British), plumed his wings for a 
 broader flight. He had conceived a bril 
 liant plan for an expedition against Can 
 ada. He would obtain from his sovereign, 
 Louis XVI., a large army and a powerful 
 ileet, to reduce Halifax and Quebec, while 
 the Americans should co-operate by the 
 lakes, and thus wrest every spot of earth 
 in North America from British possession. 
 Congress seemed to sanction the scheme ; 
 
 but Washington, who, with every trust in 
 the disinterestedness of the ardent young 
 marquis, placed little faith in that of his 
 country, defeated the wild and dangerous 
 enterprise by his cautious counsels. 
 
 Lafayette proposed to return to France, 
 but had postponed his voyage for the pur 
 pose of furthering his Canadian project. 
 "If you have entertained thoughts, my 
 dear marquis," quietly remarks Washing 
 ton, - of paying a, visit to your court, to 
 your lady, and to your friends, this win 
 ter, but waver on account of an expedi 
 tion into Canada, friendship induces me 
 to tell you that I do not conceive that 
 the prospect of such an operation is so 
 
080 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 favorable at this time as to cause you to 
 change your views." Lafayette now pre 
 pared to go home, and would have imme 
 diately set sail, but was detained by a se 
 vere illness. 
 
 The finest frigate in the embryo navy 
 of the United States, the Alliance, was or 
 dered to convey the young marquis to 
 France. On his recovery, he proceeded 
 to Boston to embark, but found the ship 
 not yet manned. The government of 
 Massachusetts went so far in its courtesy 
 to its distinguished visiter as to offer to 
 obtain a crew by impressment. This was, 
 however, an encroachment upon the rights 
 of man to which the young French disci 
 ple of freedom most positively objected. 
 Recourse was therefore had, in manning 
 the Alliance, to a number of British sail 
 ors, some prisoners, and a few Frenchmen, 
 who were taken indiscriminately from the 
 docks of Boston. 
 
 The captain of the Alliance was Lan- 
 dais, a Frenchman and a gallant officer, 
 to whom the command had been given 
 as a compliment to France, whose friend 
 ship every effort was at that time made to 
 strengthen, and to which the very name 
 of the ship was a tribute. The prejudice 
 against serving under a Frenchman was, 
 however, one of the chief difficulties in 
 manning the Alliance with American sail 
 ors, and forced Landais to content him 
 self with a motley crew, of all countries 
 and characters. 
 
 With this difficulty about a crew, the 
 Alliance did not finally get^to sea until 
 
 Jan II tlie Beginning oi> tne J ear 1779. 
 
 The passage was boisterous, and 
 
 the frigate lost a topmast and sprang a 
 
 leak ; and, when she had got within two 
 days sail of the English coast, a conspi 
 racy was discovered among the crew by 
 one of the sailors, who was an American 
 by birth, but, having lived a long time in 
 Ireland, was supposed by his English ship 
 mates to be an Irishman, and therefore 
 taken by them into their confidence. It 
 was not, however, until the morning of 
 the very day for carrying their plans into 
 execution, that the conspirators disclosed 
 them to the American sailor. He pre 
 tended to enter into (heir views with his 
 whole heart, and thus got from them ev 
 ery detail. He watched his opportunity 
 to convey the intelligence to the captain, 
 but was not able to do so until some time 
 after three in the afternoon, although the 
 hour appointed for carrying out the plot 
 was four o clock. 
 
 According to this American sailor s ac 
 count, the conspirators were mainly com 
 posed of Englishmen, and their purpose 
 was bloody and determined. By the ori 
 ginal plan, the cry of " Sail ho !" was to 
 be raised about daylight, which it was 
 supposed would bring all the officers and 
 passengers (of whom there were several 
 besides Lafayette) on deck, when it was 
 intended to seize them. The mutineers 
 had divided themselves into four parties, 
 of which one was to get possession of the 
 magazine, the second of the wardroom, 
 the third of the cabin, and the fourth of 
 the upper deck aft. In case the officers 
 should resist, the four nine-pound guns 
 on the forecastle (which one of the muti 
 neers, a gunner s mate, had secretly load 
 ed with canister) were to be pointed aft, 
 and thus sweep the quarter-deck. A ser- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 LAFAYETTE S RECEPTION IN FRANCE. 
 
 681 
 
 geant of marines, who was also one of the 
 party, had privately distributed firearms 
 and side-weapons among his associates. 
 
 The officers, passengers, and those who 
 were in the interest of the ship, were sev 
 erally to be dealt with as follows : Cap 
 tain Landais, who was particularly odious, 
 was to be heavily ironed, and sent adrift 
 on the sea, in a boat, without food, water, 
 oars, sails, or compass. The marine offi 
 cer and the surgeon were to be hanged 
 and quartered. The gunner, carpenter, 
 and boatswain, were to be killed on the 
 spot. The sailing-master was to be seized, 
 hanged up to the niizzen-mast, scarified, 
 cut into morsels, and thrown overboard. 
 To each of the two lieutenants was to be 
 offered the choice of either navigating the 
 ship into the nearest British port or of 
 * walking the plank." The passengers 
 were to be more humanely treated, as it 
 was intended only to iron them and de 
 liver them up in England as prisoners. 
 This diabolical conspiracy was, however, 
 thwarted by the disclosure of the Ameri 
 can sailor. 
 
 Not a moment was to be lost; and ac 
 cordingly, Captain Landais, having armed 
 his officers and passengers, rushed up with 
 them in a body on deck just in time to 
 seize the ringleaders of the mutiny before 
 the signal was given for the beginning 
 of operations. Thirty or forty English 
 sailors were put in irons; but, as at this 
 moment a twenty-gun ship of the enemy 
 hove in sight, it was thought imprudent 
 to arrest any more. Landais, with most 
 of his crew in a state of mutiny, did riot 
 care to show fight, and therefore so ma 
 noeuvred as to avoid an engagement, and, 
 80 
 
 Feb. 6. 
 
 crowding on sail, made his way 
 with all haste to the harbor of 
 Brest, where the Alliance arrived after a 
 short passage.* 
 
 The young marquis was greeted on his 
 arrival with great applause. "I had the 
 honor," he wrote, " of being consulted by 
 all the ministers, and, what was far better, 
 embraced by all the ladies. Those em 
 braces lasted but one day ; but I retained 
 for a greater length of time the confidence 
 of the cabinet, and I enjoyed both favor 
 at the court of Versailles and popularity 
 at Paris. I was the theme of conversa 
 tion in every circle." 
 
 Louis XVI. deemed it necessary to vin 
 dicate his authority by the formality of a 
 rebuke to the young marquis for his for 
 mer disobedience in leaving the country 
 contrary to orders ; but, with wonderful 
 French tact, his majesty contrived to 
 sweeten his censure with a compliment. 
 Lafayette was forbidden to quit Paris for 
 some days, and told to avoid those places 
 in which the public "might consecrate 
 his disobedience by their loud applause." 
 Queen Marie Antoinette, then in all the 
 pride of her youthful beauty, and with no 
 dread of days of terror, received the rev 
 olutionary hero with every mark of favor. 
 Through her intercession, Lafayette was 
 given the command of the dragoons of 
 the king s guard; and this young enthu 
 siast of liberty was warmed in the very 
 bosom of despotism. 
 
 In the beginning of December, Wash 
 ington disposed his army in its winter 
 quarters. The troops under Gen 
 eral Putnam were stationed at Dan- 
 
 1778, 
 
 * c 
 
 oopcr. 
 
682 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 bury, in Connecticut; those under Gen 
 eral M Dougall, in the Highlands of the 
 Hudson ; and the main body, under the 
 commander-in-chief, in the neighborhood 
 of Middlebrook, in New Jersey. Here 
 the old expedient of hutting was resort 
 ed to ; but, as the soldiers were better 
 clothed, and as it was hoped that they 
 would be better provisioned, the prospect 
 was more promising at Middlebrook than 
 during the previous year at Valley Forge. 
 
 Washington was urged to pass the win 
 ter, with his wife, at Philadelphia, where 
 General Arnold was in command, and 
 where Joseph Reed, now president of 
 Pennsylvania, dwelt. " Were I to give 
 in to private conveniency and amuse 
 ment," he wrote in answer, " I should not 
 be able to resist the invitation of my 
 friends to make Philadelphia, instead of 
 a squeezed-up room or two, my quarters 
 for the winter. But the affairs of the 
 army require my constant attention and 
 presence, and, circumstanced as matters 
 are at this time, call for some degree of 
 care and address to keep it from crum 
 bling." 
 
 The commander-in-chief, however, vis 
 ited Philadelphia during the winter, where 
 Congress had been in session since the 
 evacuation of the city by the British in 
 the previous May. His object was to con 
 fer with the members of the government 
 in regard to the coming campaign (1779). 
 The result was, a determination to pursue 
 at the North a defensive polioy, with the 
 exception of the expedition against the 
 Indians, which we have already related. 
 Washington s patriotism was greatly 
 shocked by the selfish intrigues and par 
 
 tisanship of the public men by whom he 
 found himself surrounded at the capital. 
 " If I were called upon," he wrote, " to 
 draw a picture of the times and of men, 
 from what I have seen, heard, and in part 
 know, I should in one word say that idle 
 ness, dissipation, and extravagance, seem to 
 have laid fast hold of most of them ; that spec 
 ulation, peculation, and an insatiable thirst for 
 riches, seem to have got the belter of every other 
 consideration, and almost of every order of 
 men ; that part?/ disputes and personal quarrels 
 are the great business of the day ; ivhile the 
 
 MOMENTOUS CONCERNS OF AN EMPIRE, a great 
 
 and accumulating debt, ruined finances, depre 
 ciated money, and ivant of credit (ivhich in its 
 consequences is the want of ever //thing), are 
 but secondary considerations, and postponed 
 from day to day, from iveeJc to week, as if oi:r 
 affairs wore the most promising aspect." 
 
 By his personal efforts and tact in the 
 control of others, Washington succeeded 
 in securing unusual comfort and good dis 
 cipline among his troops. By timely in- 
 terposition,he prevented what threatened 
 to prove a serious mutiny on the part of 
 the officers attached to the New-Jersey 
 brigade of General Maxwell, who were 
 ordered to join Sullivan in the expedition 
 against the tribes of the Six Nations. The 
 officers were induced to withdraw a me 
 morial which they had drawn up and sent 
 to the legislature, in which they declared 
 that they would not march until their ar 
 rears of pay were settled ; and, by the dis 
 creet management of Washington, they 
 were prevailed upon to proceed to their 
 duty. 
 
 General Putnam was not so successful 
 with his division at Dauby The men did 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] HOLYDAY FESTIVITIES IN THE AMERICAN CAMP. 
 
 683 
 
 1779, 
 
 not get under cover in their huts until 
 some time in January; and while 
 obliged to remain in their tents in 
 the height of winter, they suffered greatly 
 from the exposure to cold. Provisions, 
 too, became so scanty, that for six or nine 
 days together the soldier was in want of 
 his ration of bread. A revolt took place 
 in consequence in the brigade under Gen 
 eral Huntington. Four hundred men got 
 under arms and marched out of the camp 
 to an advantageous ground in the neigh 
 borhood, where they took post, and ex 
 pected to be joined by others. General 
 Putnam, however, finally succeeded in dis 
 persing the mutineers and quelling the 
 rebellion. 
 
 Though for awhile there seemed an 
 end to active campaigning, the dull rou 
 tine of camp-life was enlivened by various 
 distractions. "Military duty not being 
 very urgent," says a contemporary annal 
 ist, " our officers appear disposed to relax 
 in their discipline, and contract a habit 
 approaching to dissipation." Late sup 
 pers, with music and dancing continued 
 " through half the night," became the fa 
 vorite amusements, particularly of those 
 hot bloods the Virginian and Maryland 
 officers. Brigadier-General Muhlenberg, 
 who had doffed the surplice for the con 
 tinental uniform, and preached his fare 
 well sermon in sword and cockade, was 
 among the most hospitable of the military 
 Amphytrions. We re-ad of his table being 
 loaded with "fourteen different dishes," 
 and surrounded by "forty-one respecta 
 ble officers" as guests. The wine circu 
 lated freely, toasts passed, and " humor 
 ous and rnerry songs" were sung; while 
 
 the conviviality and gayety were length 
 ened out to a late hour in the night with 
 military music, dancing, and punch. 
 
 Christmas was not allowed to pass with 
 out its appropriate banqueting ; and on 
 the opening of the year, " Colonel Gibson 
 made an entertainment, and invited all the 
 officers of his regiment to dine at his quar 
 ters in the country, a short distance from, 
 camp." The guests did not leave the 
 "amply-furnished" table until evening, 
 when they were invited to the hospitable 
 quarters of the ci-devant parson, Muhlen 
 berg. "Here we were introduced," says 
 the writer before quoted, " to a number 
 of ladies assembled to unite with the gen 
 tlemen in the ballroom; a very elegant 
 supper was provided, and not one of the 
 company was permitted to retire till three 
 o clock in the morning. Thus have the 
 gallant Virginians commenced the new 
 year."* 
 
 The anniversary of the alliance with 
 France affords the camp an occasion for 
 a holyday, and it is celebrated in " prop 
 er style" near headquarters. A "splen 
 did entertainment" was given by General 
 Knox and the officers of the artillery. 
 General and Mrs. Washington, the prin 
 cipal officers of the army and their wives, 
 and a number of the leading gentry of 
 the neighborhood, formed " the brilliant 
 assembly." About four o clock, sixteen 
 cannon were discharged, and the guests 
 collected in a large public building to 
 partake of the banquet prepared for the 
 occasion. In the evening fireworks were 
 let off, and the celebration was concluded 
 " by a splendid ball, opened by his excel- 
 
 * Thachcr. 
 
684 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 lency General Washington, having for his 
 partner the lady of General Knox." 
 
 The commander-in-chief gives an ex 
 ample of hospitality by " inviting a cer 
 tain, number of officers to dine at his ta 
 ble every day." As his excellency can 
 not possibly be acquainted with every 
 officer by name, his invitations are given 
 through the medium of general orders, 
 in which is mentioned the brigade from 
 which the officer is expected. At these 
 dinners the table is " elegantly furnished 
 and the provisions ample, but not abound 
 ing in superfluities." Colonel Hamilton, 
 the aid-de-camp and secretary, does the 
 honors at the head, while General and 
 Mrs. Washington sit at the side of the 
 table. " In conversation, his excellency s 
 expressive countenance is peculiarly in 
 teresting and pleasing ; a placid smile is 
 frequently observed on his lips, but a 
 loud laugh, it is said, seldom if ever es 
 capes him. He is polite and attentive to 
 each individual at table, and retires after 
 the compliments of a few glasses. Mrs. 
 Washington combines in an uncommon 
 degree great dignity of manner with the 
 most pleasing affability, but possesses no 
 striking marks of beauty." 
 
 The visit to the camp of Monsieur Ge 
 rard, the French minister, and Don Juan 
 de Mirilliars, a secret Spanish agent 
 whose arrival is announced by the firing 
 of thirteen cannon was the occasion for 
 a grand review of the army, when Baron 
 Steuben s good offices as a disciplinarian 
 were made manifest. , 
 
 The whole of the army was paraded in 
 martial array in a spacious field, and a 
 stage was erected for the accommodation 
 
 of the spectators. " At the signal of thir 
 teen cannon, the great and splendid cav 
 alcade approached in martial pomp and 
 style. A very beautiful troop of light- 
 horse, commanded by Major Lee, a Vir 
 ginian, marched in front; then followed 
 his excellency the commander-in-chief 
 and his aids-de-camp ; next the foreign 
 ministers and their retinue ; while the 
 general officers and their aids closed the 
 procession. Having arrived on the field 
 of parade, the commander-in-chief, with 
 the foreign ministers and general officers ; 
 passed in front of the line of the army, 
 from right to left, in review, and received 
 the military honors due to their rank; 
 after which the gentlemen -dismounted 
 and retired to the stage, and took seats 
 with Mrs. Washington, Mrs. Greene, Mrs 
 Knox, and a number of other ladies, who 
 had arrived in their carriages. 
 
 "The army then performed the field 
 manoeuvres and evolutions, with firing of 
 cannon arid musketry. The business of 
 the day was closed by the troops deploy 
 ing: and marching in front of the stage, 
 
 O o tj / 
 
 and paying the marching salute to their 
 excellencies." 
 
 Washington s tall figure and command- 
 
 O O 
 
 ing air made him conspicuous above all 
 others. "While mounted on his noble 
 bay charger," continues our annalist, " his 
 stature appears remarkable ; and, being 
 a good horseman, he displays a lofty car 
 riage and benign dignity of demeanor."* 
 In a few days more, some native gen 
 tlemen present themselves in the camp, 
 when Washington treats them to a re 
 view. "His excellency," says Thacher, 
 
 * Thacher. 
 
RKVOLUTIOXARY."] 
 
 CAMP-SCENES AT MIDDLEBROOK. 
 
 685 
 
 " with his usual dignity, followed by his 
 mulatto-servant Bill, riding a beautiful 
 gray steed, passed in front of the line and 
 received the salute. He was accompa 
 nied by a singular group of savages, whose 
 appearance was beyond description ludi 
 crous. Their horses were of the mean 
 est kind, some of them destitute of sad 
 dles, and old lines were used for bridles. 
 Their personal decorations were equally 
 farcical, having their faces painted of va 
 rious colors, jewels suspended from their 
 ears and noses, their heads without cov 
 ering except tufts of hair on the crown, 
 and some of them wore dirty blankets 
 over their shoulders waving in the wind." 
 Thus passed the winter and early spring 
 of 1779, in a current of cheerfulness, only 
 disturbed by an occasional duel or an ex 
 ecution. Captain E gives offence to 
 
 Captain H , and is challenged to mor 
 tal combat. E refuses, and H 
 
 horsewhips him. E now challenges 
 
 H ! They fight; but, quaintly ob 
 serves our annalist, "no blood is shed, 
 and not even a hair of their heads in 
 jured." Both, however, retire from the 
 
 ground perfectly satisfied that the breach 
 in their "honor" is made whole until 
 the next occasion for repair! 
 
 Five soldiers, condemned to death for 
 desertion and robbery, are led to the gal 
 lows in a cart, seated on coffins, and with 
 halters about their necks. A detachment 
 of troops guards the unhappy criminals, 
 and a large concourse of spectators gath 
 er in a circle about the place of execution. 
 While these poor wretches are awaiting 
 the fatal moment which is to end their 
 earthly existence, three of them receive a 
 pardon from the humane commander-in- 
 chief, " who," justly remarks the narrator 
 of these incidents, "is always tenderly 
 disposed to spare the lives of his soldiers." 
 Two of the condemned, more culpable 
 than the others, are obliged to submit to 
 their fate. One is accompanied to the 
 gallows by his brother. Their warm ex 
 pressions of affection bring tears upon the 
 cheeks of every beholder. They cling 
 together in the fondest embrace, kissing 
 each other, until the hangman is forced 
 to part them, and to perform his cruel 
 function. 
 
080 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 fl AUT II. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVII. 
 
 The Tory Plunderers in East Florida. General Robert Flowe marches against Them. Off for Georgia. Fort Tonyon 
 abandoned. General Howe retires to Savannah. Disappointment. The British Expedition. Colonel Campbell. 
 His Character. His Arrival in Georgia. He attacks and beats Howe. Howe tried and acquitted by Court-Martini. 
 His Fault. General Prevost on the March. He takes Sunbury. He arrives at Savannah. All Georgia for the 
 British. Howe recalled. General Lincoln appointed to the Command of the Americans. His Life and Character. 
 His Arrival in Georgia. Success of Moultrie at Port Royal. Lincoln resolves to act, General Ashe defeated bv 
 Campbell. Restoration of Confidence among the Tories. March of Prevost through South Carolina. Retreat of 
 Moultrie. Charleston aroused. Energy of Governor Rutledge. Gallant Sortie of Count Pulaski. Proposition of 
 the Charleston Authorities. No Politician. Lincoln advances. Prevost retires. 
 
 1778, 
 
 THE tories bad gathered in con 
 siderable force in East Florida late 
 in the autumn, whence they crossed into 
 Georgia, and plundered and laid waste 
 the country. General Robert Howe, who 
 was chief in command of the troops of the 
 southern states, now collected a force of 
 two thousand men (a few of whom were 
 continental soldiers, but the greater por 
 tion South-Carolina and Georgia militia), 
 and prepared to advance into Florida and 
 attack the tory depredators in their own 
 haunts. He was already on his march, 
 when he learned that the enemy, with a 
 body of tories and Indians, were also on 
 the move, to invade Georgia. General 
 Howe hastened to meet them ; and, on 
 reaching Fort Tonyon, situated on the 
 St. Mary s river, he found the works par 
 tially demolished and abandoned by the 
 enemy, who had retired as he advanced, 
 and were retreating to ward St. Augustine. 
 Dissension now occurred among Howe s 
 officers, and the climate of that region of 
 swamps began to sicken the men. In a 
 short time, disease and death had so di 
 minished and weakened the troops, that 
 
 hardly one half were fit for duty. The 
 American commander therefore resolved 
 upon retiring, and returned to Savannah, 
 where, upon his arrival, he gave such a 
 sorry account of his expedition as created 
 great disappointment. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton, apprized of the ap 
 parent ascendency of the loyalists at the 
 South, determined to strengthen the Brit 
 ish influence there by a vigorous mani 
 festation of force. Although the larger 
 portion of the fleet under Admiral Byron, 
 who succeeded Lord Howe, had sailed for 
 the West Indies (after looking into Bos 
 ton harbor, and finding Count d Estainsj 
 
 O O 
 
 too strongly moored to be disturbed), a 
 considerable number of men-of-war were 
 still at New York. Sir Henry Clinton ac 
 cordingly despatched a body of about two 
 thousand troops for the South under the 
 orders of Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell, 
 in a squadron commanded by Commodore 
 Hyde Parker. 
 
 Campbell was the officer who had been 
 captured off Boston, and suffered so long 
 an imprisonment, till he was exchanged 
 for General Lee. He was possessed of 
 
RKVOLDTIONAUY.] INVASION OF GEORGIA. AMERICANS DEFEATED. 
 
 GS7 
 
 Dec, 29, 
 
 great military skill, and tact in concilia 
 ting his enemies. No better man could 
 have been selected to conduct the south 
 ern expedition. He arrived off the coast 
 of Georgia near the close of the year, and, 
 having sailed up the Tybee for twelve 
 miles, debarked his troops about 
 three miles below Savannah, the 
 capital of the state. General Prevost, who 
 was in command of the British force in 
 Florida, was ordered to co-operate with 
 Campbell by marching into Georgia from 
 the south. 
 
 Major-General Howe, who had just re 
 turned from his unfortunate expedition 
 against the tory and Indian marauders of 
 East Florida, was posted with one thou 
 sand five hundred men within half a mile 
 of Savannah. His ground had been well 
 selected. Parallel to and in advance of 
 his front was a lagoon, over which the 
 main road to Savannah passed by means 
 of a bridge, but which the American com 
 mander destroyed, in order to prevent 
 the advance of the British from the town. 
 His right flank was covered by a morass, 
 mostly overgrown with a thick wood, with 
 here and there a house, however, where 
 some riflemen were posted. His left was 
 protected by the swamps of the Savannah 
 river, which, in order further to strength 
 en his position, he had connected with the 
 morass on his rit-ht by db inno; a trench 
 
 o J oO O 
 
 along his front. The town and works of 
 Savannah covered his rear. Howe, con 
 fident in the strength of his ground, calm 
 ly awaited the approach of the enemy. 
 
 As the British van came up, a skirmish 
 took place, but with little result, beyond 
 the loss of a few men and a brave Eng 
 
 lish officer. Lieutenant- Colonel Camp 
 bell had pushed forward with the first 
 division of his troops, and was reconnoi 
 tring Howe s position, when a negro pre 
 sented himself, who undertook to point 
 out a by-path that led through the swamp 
 to the American rear. Campbell gladly 
 availed himself of the negro s information 
 and guidance, and instantly made them 
 available in action. 
 
 Sir James Baird was detached with the 
 light-infantry and the corps of New-York 
 loyalists, to take the path to the American 
 rear disclosed by the negro ; while Camp 
 bell himself remained in front, arranging 
 his line and preparing for action. He in 
 tentionally delayed his attack until a fire 
 in the American rear gave proof that Sir 
 James had accomplished his object. The 
 first gun was a signal for general assault. 
 Campbell pushed on promptly in front, 
 while Baird pressed in toward the Ameri 
 can rear. 
 
 General Howe s troops, thus surround 
 ed, were broken and driven in confusion 
 from their ground. The defeat was in 
 stantaneous and decisive. Never was a 
 victory of such magnitude so completely 
 gained with so little loss, the British hav 
 ing but seven killed and nineteen wound 
 ed.* The Americans were hotly pursued 
 through Savannah, and Howe was only 
 able to save a small remnant of his force 
 by fleeing up the river and escaping into 
 South Carolina. He left behind him five 
 hundred and fifty men either dead, wound 
 ed, or prisoners, together with all his ar 
 tillery and baggage. 
 
 General Howe was subsequently tried 
 
 * Lee s Soutltern Wur. 
 
088 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 by court-martial, but acquitted. What 
 ever may have been his skill, however, in 
 the choice of his ground, and his gallantry 
 in awaiting the attack of a superior ene 
 my, he certainly was amenable to the 
 charge of a want of due circumspection, 
 in leaving the by-path which led to his 
 rear, open to the advance of the enemy. 
 It could hardly have been from ignorance 
 f or " how happens it," as the historian 
 asks, " that he who had been in command 
 in that country for many months, should 
 not have discovered the by-way passing to 
 his rear, when Lieutenant-Colonel Camp 
 bell contrived to discover it in a few 
 hours ?"* 
 
 Brigadier-General Prevost was equally 
 effective in accomplishing his part of the 
 enterprise. Early in January, he 
 rapidly marched northward and en 
 tered Georgia. Immediately investing 
 Sunbury, below Savannah, he compelled 
 it to surrender ; and, having left a garri 
 son in the fort, proceeded to the latter 
 town without opposition. Being superior 
 in rank, Prevost assumed the chief com 
 mand of all the royal forces at the South, 
 and detached his subordinate against Au 
 gusta. Campbell got possession of the 
 town without striking a blow. In the 
 course of a short month, the whole state 
 of Georgia was restored to the authority 
 of the British crown. Nor was this result 
 due more to the strength of the enemv s 
 
 o / 
 
 arms than to the conciliatory tact of the 
 British generals. Both Campbell and Pre 
 vost spared the property and protected 
 the lives of the vanquished. This pru 
 dent policy soon produced its legitimate 
 
 * Lee. 
 
 fruits, and was rewarded with the affec 
 tions of the people, who now flocked to 
 the British standard. 
 
 After taking possession of Augusta, as 
 already mentioned, Lieutenant- Colonel 
 Hamilton was detached into the interior 
 of Georgia, in order to crush any remain 
 ing resistance, and to encourage the loy 
 alists to come forward and aid in com 
 pleting the establishment of royal author 
 ity in the state. Colonel Pick ens, of South 
 Carolina, hastily gathered his regiment 
 of militia, and marched into Georgia, with 
 the view of thwarting the progress of Brit 
 ish influence. Advancing toward Hamil 
 ton, he was on the point of giving him 
 battle, when, finding him too strong, sus 
 tained as he was by the co-operation of 
 the inhabitants, he retired. On his re 
 turn, Pickens fell in with a party of loy 
 alists, under Colonel Boyd. These ma 
 rauders were desolating the frontier of 
 South Carolina, on their way to join the 
 royal troops, and were now encountered 
 
 at Kettle creek, within two days 
 
 . , . / Feb. 14, 
 
 march 01 Augusta. A sanguina 
 ry struggle took place, in which the tory 
 leader and seventy of his followers hav 
 ing been slain, and an equal number ta 
 ken prisoners, the rest fled. This was 
 the only check received by the British 
 during their invasion of Georgia, Savan 
 nah being made the headquarters of their 
 army in the South, and retained as such 
 " until near the close of the contest, in 
 1782, when every rood of the soil, .out 
 side of the intrenchments around that 
 city, was in possession of the republicans." 
 The fatality which seemed to attend 
 the expeditions of General .Robert Howe 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 created a strong prejudice against him ; 
 and the delegates in Congress from South 
 Carolina and Georgia clamorously insist 
 ed upon the substitution in his place of a 
 more experienced general. At the same 
 time, the states of Virginia and North 
 Carolina were urgently appealed to for 
 succor. The latter promptly responded, 
 and sent to the aid of her suffering sister- 
 state two thousand militia, under Gener 
 als Ashe and Rutherford. As these were, 
 however, unarmed, it was some time be 
 fore they could be of effective service. In 
 the meantime, Congress appointed Major- 
 General Lincoln, of Massachusetts, com 
 mander of the southern department, in 
 the place of General Howe, who joined 
 the main army, under Washington. 
 
 BENJAMIN LINCOLN led the life of a farm 
 er near Hingharn,in Massachusetts, his na 
 tive town, until he was more than forty 
 years of age. Patriotism made a soldier 
 <>{ him, and, after serving as an officer in 
 the militia, he was appointed in 1777 a 
 major-general- in the continental army. 
 He served with Gates at Saratoga, where 
 he was wounded. His great influence in 
 his native state was exercised much to 
 the advantage of the American northern 
 campaign, at a time when the first tri 
 umphs of Burgoyne had depressed the 
 hopes of the eastern patriots. " Upright, 
 mild, and amiable, he was universally re 
 spected and beloved ; a truly good man, 
 and a brave and prudent but not consum 
 mate soldier," is the character written of 
 him by Harry Lee. In person, he was 
 large and corpulent, and the heaviest offi- , 
 cer in the army, his weight at one time j 
 being about three hundred pounds. 
 87 
 
 BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 
 
 General Lincoln reached Charleston in 
 January, soon after Howe s disaster at Sa 
 vannah, and immediately hurried 
 into Georgia, where he gathered the 
 scattered American force, and, uniting it 
 with the Carolina troops, stationed his 
 army at Purysburg, on the Savannah riv 
 er, about fifteen miles above the city of 
 Savannah. The American troops were 
 less than four thousand in number, and 
 of these only eleven hundred were regu 
 lar soldiers, the rest being raw militia. 
 
 The enemy s forces amounted to about 
 the same as the Americans ; but, as they 
 were distributed at different posts from 
 Savannah to Augusta, a distance of one 
 hundred miles, they were not sufficiently 
 concentrated to act with much effect on 
 the offensive. The British general, more 
 over, was for the present contented with 
 the possession of Georgia, which he strove 
 to retain by maintaining his long line of 
 defence. Lincoln, in the meanwhile, al 
 though he held his force compactly to 
 gether, did not for some time seem to be 
 disposed to begin operations. 
 
 General Prevost, anxious to establish 
 a post in South Carolina, preparatory to 
 the future purposes of his campaign, de 
 tached two hundred men by sea to take 
 possession of Port Royal, an island near 
 Charleston. They succeeded in making 
 good their landing, but were soon ousted 
 by the brave Colonel Mo ul trie, who, at the 
 head of a few hundred militia, drove the 
 British from the island, and would have 
 totally destroyed them had not the am 
 munition given out. Some well-known 
 Carolina names, as Barnwell, Heyward, 
 Rutledge, and Wilkins, were among those 
 
690 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 IMPART II. 
 
 which became distinguished in the con 
 flict of that day. 
 
 General Lincoln, being strengthened 
 by a large accession of militia from the 
 Carolina*?, now resolved upon action. Fif 
 teen hundred men, of whom one hundred 
 only were regulars, were detached, under 
 General Ashe, of North Carolina, 
 to take post on the Carolina side 
 of the Savannah river, opposite Augusta. 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell, who was 
 stationed in the town, fell back immedi 
 ately on the approach of the Americans, 
 and, crossing Brier creek, encamped at 
 Hudson s ferry, twenty-four miles above 
 Ebenezer, where General Prevost had his 
 headquarters. 
 
 Lincoln s object was, if possible, to cut 
 off the enemy. from the northern part of 
 Georgia; and therefore, after securing the 
 posts along the Savannah, on the Carolina 
 side, he ordered General Ashe to cross the 
 river, with the view of keeping the Brit 
 ish within the lower country, along the 
 seaboard, where the malaria of that un 
 healthy region would prove a formidable 
 scourge to the invaders during the ensu 
 ing summer heats. Ashe, in accordance 
 with General Lincoln s directions, posted 
 himself behind Brier creek, where it falls 
 into the Savannah, forty miles below Au 
 gusta. Prevost determined to dislodge 
 him. To conceal his object, the British 
 general made a feint of crossing the Sa 
 vannah with his main body. While Ashe 
 was concentrating his attention upon this 
 demonstration, Prevost marched with a 
 strong detachment for a distance of fifty 
 miles forded Brier creek, fifteen miles 
 above the American camp and fell sud- 
 
 March 3. 
 
 denly upon its rear. The hand 
 ful of continental troops, under 
 Elbert, made a brave though vain resist 
 ance ; but the militia were driven away 
 in confused flight. The British loss was 
 insignificant, while only four hundred and 
 fifty of the Americans ever rejoined the 
 army. Some were killed, others perished 
 in the morasses, and many were drowned 
 in attempting to cross the Savannah riv 
 er. By this disaster, one fourth part of 
 Lincoln s small force was destroyed. 
 
 The spirit of loyalty in Georgia to the 
 British throne, which had been tempora 
 rily discouraged by the advance of the 
 American troops, and the retirement of 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell from Au 
 gusta, was now revived by the success of 
 Prevost. But in the neighboring state 
 of South Carolina:, the disasters of the 
 American arms in Georgia only served to 
 reanimate the people to more vigorous 
 exertions for the cause of independence. 
 John Kutledge, being immediately ap 
 pointed governor, and invested with the 
 powers of a dictator, imparted resolution 
 to all by his wise counsels, his eloquent 
 appeals, and firm conduct. The militia 
 rallied to the American standard, and Gen 
 eral Lincoln (whose force had now in 
 creased to five thousand men) was en 
 couraged in his efforts to hold Augusta 
 and the upper part of Georgia. 
 
 Having left a thousand men, under the 
 command of Moultrie, to defend the posts 
 of Purysburg and Black, swamp, Lincoln 
 in the latter part of A >ril moved toward 
 Augusta. While he -vas marching along 
 the right bank of the Savannah, General 
 Prevost, aware of the movement, took ad- 
 
THE BRITISH APPEAR BEFORK CHARLESTON. 
 
 691 
 
 vantage of the American commander s 
 absence, and crossed the river to Purys- 
 burg with two thousand regulars, and a 
 considerable body of loyalists and Creek 
 Indians. After entering South Carolina, 
 and finding Purysburg abandoned, the 
 British general made a forced march du 
 ring the night, in the hope of overtaking 
 Mo ul trie at Black swamp. He was, how 
 ever, three hours too late. 
 
 Moultrie, being joined by Colonel M b ln- 
 tosh, who had made a timely retreat from 
 Purysburg, took post at Tulifinnee bridge, 
 leaving Lieutenant-Colonel Laurens, with 
 a small party of continental troops and a 
 body of militia, at Coosawhatchie bridge ; 
 which, however, after a gallant defence, 
 in which he was wounded, he was forced 
 to abandon on the advance of Prevost. 
 The British general s object was Charles 
 ton, by threatening which he hoped to 
 divert Lincoln, who had now recrossed 
 the Savannah, from his Georgia project. 
 The latter, however, thinking Prevost s 
 movement was but a feint, persevered, 
 and contented himself with despatching 
 a party of three hundred infantry, under 
 Colonel Harris, to reinforce Moultrie, and 
 aid him in opposing the inarch of the Brit 
 ish through South Carolina. 
 
 General Prevost, nevertheless, 
 proceeded on his march toward 
 Charleston. Moultrie continued to re treat 
 before him ; and, having no cavalry, he 
 was unable to check the British advance, 
 and only to embarrass it by destroying 
 the bridges. The march of the British 
 commander through South Carolina was 
 triumphant. General Lincoln was away 
 in Georgia ; Governor Rutledge, with the 
 
 May 1, 
 
 reserve militia, was in the interior ; Moul 
 trie, with his handful of men, was in re 
 treat; the inhabitants of the state were 
 panic-stricken, and many in their frigh 
 appealed to the British for protection. 
 Prevost might now have pushed on and 
 carried Charleston by a coup de main. For 
 some unaccountable reason, however, he 
 delayed for two or three days on his march, 
 and lost his chance. 
 
 The threatened city, in the meantime, 
 was aroused from the lethargy of despair 
 to the activity of hope. The lieutenant- 
 governor and the council made the great 
 est exertions to stimulate the energies of 
 the inhabitants. Every effort was made 
 to fortify the town. " Masters and ser 
 vants, boys and girls," says Lee, a mixed 
 in the honorable work of self-defence." 
 All the houses in the suburbs were burnt. 
 Intrenchments and abattis of trees were 
 extended from Ashley to Cooper rivers, 
 and cannon mounted across the whole ex 
 tent of Charleston neck. The militia of 
 the neighborhood thronged in at the call 
 of the lieutenant-governor. 
 
 General Moultrie s retreating troops at 
 length arrived. Governor Rutledge and 
 the militia, with a reinforcement of con 
 tinental troops, followed, having hurried 
 forward by forced marches. On the 10th 
 of May, all were in the town. 
 
 It was not until the next day that nine 
 hundred of the British troops crossed the 
 
 Ashley river, and appeared be- 
 
 . . May lit 
 
 fore the town. Hie mam body, 
 
 with the baggage, were left on the other 
 side. The spirited Pulaski, with his le 
 gion of light-horse, arrived to aid in the 
 rescue of Charleston on the very day on 
 
692 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 which the British presented themselves. 
 He strove to make himself useful on the 
 moment. The English had hardly arrived 
 two hours, when the gallant Pole led a 
 body of horse and some infantry beyond 
 the lines, and, having stationed the latter 
 in a valley, behind a small breastwork, 
 endeavored to draw the enemy into an 
 ambuscade. Advancing at the head of a 
 troop of horse, Pulaski provoked an en 
 gagement with the British cavalry, and 
 then retreated to the infantry. The lat 
 ter, however, in their eagerness to engage, 
 had left their ambush, and thus thwarted 
 the design. 
 
 A struggle ensued, in which the Brit 
 ish, with their superior numbers, had the 
 advantage. Count Pulaski, by personal 
 activity and bravery, did all in his power 
 to compensate for the imprudence of his 
 men, but was finally obliged to retreat 
 within the lines. 
 
 That the town might not be assaulted 
 by surprise during the night, tar-barrels 
 were lighted up in front of the works. 
 This precaution gave rise to an accident 
 which was greatly lamented in South Car 
 olina, as it deprived the state of one of 
 its most devoted patriots. Governor Rut- 
 ledge, having discovered a breach in the 
 abattis, sent Major Benjamin Huger, at the 
 head of a small party, to repair it. The. 
 garrison, seeing by the light of the tar- 
 barrels some men at the works, and not 
 being aware of their purpose, took them 
 for enemies, and fired upon them, killing 
 Huger and twelve of his men. 
 
 On the following day a council was 
 held, when, as there was little 
 
 Nay 12, 
 
 trust to be put in the military 
 
 conduct of the ohree thousand three hun 
 dred troops which defended the city, they 
 being chiefly raw militia; and as, although 
 Lincoln was now marching to their assist 
 ance, the time of his arrival was uncertain, 
 it was determined by a majority of the 
 civil (though not of the military) officers 
 to make a proposition to the British gen 
 eral. 
 
 The proposition was as follows : " That 
 South Carolina will remain in a state of 
 neutrality till the close of the war, and 
 then follow the fate of its neighbors, on 
 condition that the royal army will with 
 draw."* The British commander bluntly 
 rejected this offer, declaring that he was 
 no politician, and demanded that, as the 
 garrison were in arms, they should sur 
 render as prisoners-of-war. This was an 
 swered by an absolute refusal. 
 
 * "To gain time," says Simms, "was of the utmost con- 
 ;quence. A day was consumed in tendering and returning 
 /jgs. Prevost was deluded. The better to beguile him, a 
 urge hope was held out as a lure to expectation. The com 
 missioners were instructed to propose the neutrality of South 
 Carolina during the war, and that the future of the state 
 should be determined by the event of the war. 
 
 "It has been assumed, by certain writers, that this offer 
 was made in good faith ; aruHt was the policy of Rutlcdge 
 that it should appear so. There were hundreds of loyalists 
 in the city who found means to communicate by night with 
 the enemy. It was necessary that people and army should 
 equally believe that the governor and his council were in 
 earnest, in order that Prevost should believe it also. Mean 
 time, the end was gained. 
 
 "Prevost discovered, after awhile, that the negotiations 
 did not include the army ; that, even if the city were surren 
 dered, the troops in it might all cross to the east side of the 
 Cooper, and escape ; and that he should only possess the 
 shell of the oyster. He demanded lo treat with the military 
 commandant, who was Moultrie. When Rutledge referred 
 the matter finally to him, he exclaimed, I will save the 
 city ! and his exclamation excited the people to enthusiasm. 
 They had heard of the negotiations. They were roused to 
 mutiny, people and army ; and, had the governor and coun 
 cil persisted, which we have no reason to suppose that they 
 designed to do, they would have been torn in pieces." Hin- 
 lory of South Carolina, p. 233. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] PREVOST RETREATS. WESTERN" FORTS CAPTURED. 
 
 693 
 
 Provost now prepared for an assault; 
 but, having for some days hesitated to 
 begin operations, an express from Lincoln 
 was in the meantime captured. This sud 
 denly changed his plans ; for, learning 
 that the American general was rapidly 
 advancing toward Charleston, he feared 
 that he might be caught between two 
 fires. The British commander now pre 
 cipitately quitted his ground. He had 
 scarcely crossed the Ashley river, when 
 Lincoln arrived at Dorchester, within a 
 short distance of Charleston. Prevost 
 began his retreat, by means of the boats 
 at his command, along the seacoast; and, 
 having first crossed to James s island, he 
 finally passed over to John s island, where 
 he awaited the reinforcements which he 
 expected to receive from Sir Henry Clin- 
 on at New York. 
 
 West of the Alleghanies, where pio 
 neers from the seaboard states had plant 
 ed sparse settlements, the storm of war 
 was meanwhile sweeping. Border forays 
 had occurred soon after the war broke 
 out; and finally, in 1778, a regular expe 
 dition ngainst the English frontier posts 
 northward of the Ohio had been led by 
 Major George Rogers Clarke, the most 
 active of the military commanders of that 
 region. He was a Virginian by birth, and 
 commanded a company in Governor Lord 
 Dunmore s army in 1774. The following 
 year he went to Kentucky, and became 
 the leader of the armed settlers in that 
 
 region. He was in active service most 
 ol the time till the close of the Revolution. 
 Subsequently, he was created a major- 
 general in the armies of France, and was 
 to take command of the expedition which 
 Genet, the French minister, endeavored to 
 organize in Kentucky against the Span 
 iards on the Mississippi, but which failed. 
 Clarke s operations in 1778 were in the 
 present states of Indiana and Illinois : the 
 British posts of Kaskaskia, Cohokia, and 
 Vincennes, were successively captured. 
 
 In January, 1779, the commander of 
 the enemy s post at Detroit retook Vin 
 cennes. Clarke, with one hundred and 
 seventy-five men, penetrated the country 
 from the Ohio, in February, to recover it. 
 Foi a whole week they traversed " the 
 drowned lands" of Illinois, suffering ev 
 ery privation from wet, cold, and hunger. 
 When they arrived at the Little Wabash, 
 where the forks of the streams are three 
 miles apart, they found the intervening 
 space covered with snow-water to the 
 depth of three feet. Over a distance of 
 five miles those hardy soldiers travelled 
 through the chilling flood, in the deep 
 forest, the water sometimes up to their 
 armpits. At last they appeared, 
 with their faces blackened with 
 gunpowder a fearful apparition be 
 fore the fort at Vincennes. Two days 
 j afterward, the stars and stripes were wa 
 ving in triumph over that little fortress.* 
 
 * Lossinp. 
 
 Feb. 18, 
 
094 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 ("PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXYTTL 
 
 General Lincoln smacks the Enemy. Forced to retire. The British Policy in South Carolina. Devastation. Plunder 
 of Property. Negroes er.tieej. The British from New York invade Virginia. Fall of Portsmouth and Norfolk. 
 Wanton Devastation and Robbery. Vain Remonstrance of the Assembly of Virginia. Grand Expedition of Sir 
 Henry Clinton. He takes the Fort at Stony Point. Verplanck s Point surrendered. The British Fleet ascends the 
 Hudson. Washington moves his army toward West Point. Disposition of the American Force. General Wayne on 
 the Practicability of retaking Stony Point. British Expedition against Connecticut. Plunder of New Haven. Gov 
 ernor Tryon s Devastations at East Haven. Fail-field in Ashes. Tryon s Conscience pricked. Loss to Connecticut. 
 Tryon glorified. Wayne in Readiness. Description of Stony Point. Negro Pompey. Plan and Disposition of the 
 Attack. The Guards gagged. Fleury in Advance. The Struggle. Wayne down. He is carried into the Fortress. 
 The Victory. A Characteristic Despatch. The Enemy s Guns turned. The British Fleet slip Anchors. Stony 
 Point abandoned. The Works at West Point 
 
 1779, 
 
 PiiEVOST, as related in the previ 
 ous chapter, having crossed from 
 James s to John s island, General Lincoln 
 on leaving Dorchester moved along the 
 mainland until he came opposite to the 
 British encampment, from which he was 
 now only separated by Stono inlet. Pre- 
 vost having marched with a body of his 
 troops to the Savannah river, Lincoln 
 took the occasion of attacking Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Maitland, who was left in com 
 mand of the remnant of the British force 
 on the island. 
 
 The attack was made spirited 
 ly and as spiritedly resisted. The 
 object of the Americans, however, was not 
 gained, and they were forced to retreat 
 to the mainland. The loss on both sides 
 was about equal. 
 
 It was now the hottest season of these 
 southern latitudes, and all active hostili 
 ties ceased. Prevost reached Savannah, 
 and Lieutenant-Colonel Maitland, remain 
 ing in South Carolina, took post at Beau 
 fort, on the island ot Port Royal. Lin- 
 join, with his force diminished, by the re- 
 
 Juiie 20, 
 
 turn of the militia to their homes, to about 
 eight hundred men, established himself 
 at Sheldon, that he might conveniently 
 watch the movements of the enemy at 
 Beaufort. 
 
 The British, on their march through 
 South Carolina ; did not pursue the same 
 generous policy by which they had gained 
 over the inhabitants of Georgia. The 
 plantations were wantonly laid waste, and 
 the houses plundered of plate and jewel 
 ry. The negroes were tempted by prom 
 ises of freedom to abandon their masters, 
 and they came in hundreds to join the 
 British, to whom they revealed the hiding- 
 
 / o 
 
 places of the planters property. Three 
 thousand slaves were thus lost to their 
 masters ; some were enrolled in the Brit 
 ish ranks, but not a few were shipped to 
 to the West Indies and sold. South Car 
 olina estimated its loss in labor at no less 
 than two hundred and eighty thousand 
 dollars.* 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton, still intent upon his 
 plan of detached expeditions to ravage 
 
 * Lossing. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] VIRGINIA INVADED. THE BRITISH UP THE HUDSON. 695 
 
 May 5, 
 
 and destroy, determined now to make a 
 descent upon Virginia. He accordingly 
 selected two thousand troops for 
 the purpose, and put them un 
 der the command of General Matthews. 
 Having embarked on board Sir George 
 Collier s squadron, they reached Hamp 
 ton roads on the 9th of May. On land 
 ing, Portsmouth, which was defenceless, 
 and Norfolk, which was still in ruins, fell 
 at once into the possession of the inva 
 ders. The troops pushed on by land, and 
 destroyed houses, stores, and property of 
 all kinds, at Suffolk, Kemp s landing, Gos- 
 port, Tanner s creek, and elsewhere. The 
 British men-of-war were no less active in 
 wrong and injury. Within the fortnight 
 during which the expedition continued 
 on the coast, the damage they did was 
 enormous. More than one hundred and 
 thirty vessels of all kinds (merchantmen, 
 privateers, and men-of-war) were either 
 burned or captured. Seventeen British 
 prizes and three thousand hogsheads of 
 tobacco were seized at Portsmouth and 
 carried away. 
 
 The assembly of Virginia resolved that 
 the governor be required to remonstrate 
 to the British commander against such a 
 cruel and unprecedented manner of wa 
 ging war, not authorized by any civilized 
 nation." Unfortunately, the more pow 
 erful argument of men and arms could 
 not be urged ; and the appeals to their 
 humanity were not listened to by the en 
 emy in those days of embittered hostility. 
 The British returned to New York, after 
 an absence of only a month, when other 
 service was found, equally congenial to 
 those heartless depredators. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton had for some time 
 projected an attack upon the two Ameri 
 can posts at Stony Point and Verplanck s 
 Point. These sites on the Hudson river, 
 just below the Highlands, and a little 
 south of Peekskill, had been selected for 
 the erection of forts, in order to guard 
 the mountain-passes beyond, and King s 
 ferry, forming the most convenient com 
 munication between the eastern and mid 
 dle states. At Verplanck s Point, on the 
 east side of the river, a strong fort had 
 already been completed, and was now gar 
 risoned by seventy men, under Captain 
 Armstrong. The works on Stony Point, 
 opposite, were unfinished, and were de 
 fended only by forty soldiers. 
 
 The British commander-in-chief deter 
 mined to lead the expedition in person; 
 and, having added to his party some of 
 the marauders just returned fromVirginia, 
 
 he set out from New York with 
 
 ,, May 30, 
 
 a iieet or not less than seventy 
 
 sail and one hundred and fifty small boats, 
 carrying five thousand troops. General 
 Vaughan,who commanded the land-force, 
 debarked on the east side of the Hudson ; 
 while Sir Henry Clinton, advancing far 
 ther up the river, landed with some ma 
 rines and guns on the western bank, and 
 took possession of the unfinished 
 fort at Stony Point without op 
 position. Here cannon and mortars were 
 dragged during the night to the summit 
 of the rocky heights. The next morning, 
 Clinton opened his batteries, and poured 
 a storm of fire upon Verplanck s Point, 
 which was completely commanded from 
 his position. In the meantime, General 
 Vaughan, who had made a long circuit 
 
 May 31, 
 
690 
 
 BATTLES OF AIM ERICA. 
 
 [l-ART II. 
 
 June 
 
 through the hills, arrived and invested 
 the fort by land. The garrison, 
 finding it useless to resist, sur 
 rendered themselves as prisoners-of-war. 
 The enemy now applied themselves dil 
 igently to completing and strengthening 
 the works, while their fleet still lingered 
 up the Hudson. Washington, becoming 
 solicitous about West Point and the other 
 forts above, moved his army in that di 
 rection. From Middlebrook, in New Jer 
 sey, he inarched to Smith s clove, where 
 he left the main bod} under the command 
 of General Putnam, and established his 
 own headquarters at New Windsor, where 
 he might be near West Point, which im 
 portant position he was most anxious to 
 secure. General M/Dougall had been sub 
 stituted, in command of this latter post, 
 for Putnam, who had now become less 
 efficient from the effects of age. Three 
 brigades, under General Heath, recently 
 transferred from Boston, were posted on 
 the eastern side of the river ; Nixon s was 
 at Constitution island ; Parsons s opposite 
 to West Point, with instructions to send 
 fatigue-parties daily across the river to 
 assist in constructing the works yet in 
 
 O \J 
 
 progress; and Huntington s on the prin 
 cipal road leading to Fishkill. 
 
 Washington, conscious of the impor 
 tance of the two posts lately wrested from 
 him by the British, eagerly sought an op 
 portunity to recover them. To General 
 Wayne, who was in command of the light- 
 infantry stationed between the main ar 
 my at Smith s clove and Fovt Montgom 
 ery, Washington wrote: "The importance 
 of the two posts of Verplanck s Point and 
 Stony Point to the enemy is too obvious 
 
 to need explanation. We ought, if pos 
 sible, to dispossess them." 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton had returned with 
 most of his troops and ships to New York, 
 with a view to making other incursions ; 
 and Washington thought the occasion 
 might be convenient for the execution 
 of his design upon Stony and Verplanck s 
 Points. "It is a matter I have much at 
 heart," he said, " to make some attempts 
 upon these posts in the presentweak state 
 of the garrisons." Wavne was then en- 
 
 O */ 
 
 treated to use his best endeavors to ac 
 quire the necessary information, and to 
 give his opinion on the practicability of 
 a surprise of one or both of these places, 
 especially of Stony Point. Wnyne s reply 
 was prompt and emphatic. " General." 
 answered he, "I ll storm h-11, if you will 
 only plan it!" We shall see hereafter 
 how far his actions responded to his words 
 in the lesser attempt upon Stony Point. 
 Throughout the whole period of the 
 Revolution, and especially during the lat 
 ter years of the contest, the inhabitants 
 of Connecticut were among the greatest 
 sufferers by the frequent marauding expe 
 ditions sent out from the enemy s head 
 quarters at New York. Thus, early in the 
 
 present year (1779), the cruel 
 
 , . rn -11 /> 
 
 and infamous Iryon, the last of 
 
 the royal governors of New York, marched 
 into Connecticut from Kingsbridge, with 
 fifteen hundred British regulars and Hes 
 sians, to destroy some salt-works belong 
 ing to Americans at Horseneck. and to 
 
 o 
 
 attack a detachment under General Put 
 nam, lying at Greenwich. The republi 
 cans were dispersed, and Putnam barely 
 escaped capture by some dragoons, who 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 TRYON S RAVAGES IN CONNECTICUT. 
 
 697 
 
 pursued him hi his flight toward Stain- 
 ford.* He rallied his troops at the latter 
 place, pursued the enemy on their retreat 
 through Wesfchestcr county, recaptured 
 a quantity or* plunder in their possession, 
 and took thirty-eight of them prisoners. 
 The British government having delib- 
 
 o o 
 
 erately determined upon a fresh preda 
 tory expedition into Connecticut, and in 
 structed Sir Henry Clinton to that effect, 
 he appointed Governor Tryon to the con 
 genial command of the marauders. Twen 
 ty-six hundred troops, a large portion of 
 them Hessian mercenaries, embarked on 
 board of about fifty transports, and, being 
 escorted by the Camilla and Scorpion 
 men-of-war, sailed from New York up the 
 East river and Long-island sound for New 
 Haven. Before coming to anchor in the 
 bay, Governor Tryon concocted 
 with General Garth, his second in 
 command, a proclamation to the inhabit 
 ants of Connecticut. In this document, 
 the people were urged to return to their 
 duty and allegiance ; and all, except the 
 civil and military officers of the govern 
 ment, should they remain peaceably at 
 home, were promised protection in per 
 son and property. The proclamation was 
 sent ashore, and the next day the British 
 fleet came to anchor in New-Haven bay. 
 Without giving the people an 
 opportunity to consult upon the 
 promises offered in the proclamation, and 
 to agree upon action, Governor Tryon at 
 
 * " It was on this occasion," observes Mr. Lossing, " that 
 Putnam s alleged descent of a flight of stone steps, on horse 
 back, took place. That he fled down a steep hill, near a 
 flight of steps that had been formed for the accommodation 
 of the neighboring inhabitants in taking a direct way to a 
 church on the eminence, there can be no doubt; but, that he 
 * - ent all the way down the steps, is a pure fiction." 
 
 July 5. 
 
 once debarked his troops. One division, 
 commanded by himself, landed at East 
 Haven; the other, under General Garth, 
 at. West Haven. The latter pushed on to 
 New Haven, being somewhat harassed by 
 the militia who had gathered to oppose 
 him. The town was delivered up to pro 
 miscuous plunder. Whigs, and even to- 
 ries, who had not provided themselves 
 with protections, suffered greatly. Many 
 of the inhabitants deserted their homes, 
 and fled with their wives and children to 
 East rock, a hill in the neighborhood of 
 the town ; and from its heights, while 
 trembling for their lives, they looked 
 down upon the marauders who were pil 
 laging and destroying their property in 
 the town. The houses were robbed of 
 plate and money ; and the hogsheads of 
 rum, molasses, and sugar, in which New 
 Haven in those days carried on so large 
 a trade, were turned out of the West- 
 Indian warehouses, and wantonly broken 
 and wasted. Personal collisions occurred 
 between the drunken soldiers and the in 
 jured inhabitants, and occasional scenes 
 of bloodshed and cruelty ensued. 
 
 On the following day, the militia be 
 gan to collect in such threatening force, 
 that Garth drew off his troops, 
 having burned the storehouses 
 upon the wharf before his departure. At 
 East Haven, during the same day, Tryon 
 not only plundered but burnt the houses, 
 and destroyed the cattle. He, however, 
 like Garth, was frightened away from fur 
 ther barbarity by the threatening aspect 
 of the provoked inhabitants. 
 
 The next point of attack was Fairfield. 
 On the fleet coming to anchor oft" the 
 
 July 6. 
 
698 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 n. 
 
 July 7, 
 
 town, Try on sent ashore a copy of his 
 proclamation, with a flag of trace to Colo 
 nel Whiting, who commanded 
 the militia, and giving him an 
 hour to consider upon a reply, by which 
 he might save the town. The colonel did 
 not long- deliberate, and sent back an nn- 
 
 o 
 
 swer in behalf of the Connecticut people, 
 saying, "The flames have now preceded 
 their answer to your flag, and they will 
 persist to oppose to the utmost that pow 
 er which is exerted against injured inno 
 cence." This reached the fleet at sunset. 
 Throughout that night and the ensuing 
 morning, the British plundered and de 
 stroyed, until the whole town of Fairfield 
 was laid in ashes, and the country for two 
 miles around was devastated. 
 
 Norwalk was the next object of these 
 ruthless invaders, and its fate was fully 
 
 as merciless as that of Fairfield. 
 July 12, 
 
 Churches were burnt in common 
 
 with the houses. Governor Tryon, feel 
 ing some compunctions of conscience for 
 his conduct, justified the destruction of 
 the dwellings on the ground that the oc 
 cupants fired from them upon his troops, 
 and expressed his regret at " the loss of 
 two places of public worship at Fairfield, 
 which took fire unintentionally by the 
 flakes from other buildings ; and," he add 
 ed, " I gave strict orders for the preser 
 vation of that at Norwalk." Neverthe 
 less, it is said that while Norwalk was in 
 flames, the merciless Tryon, with a sorry 
 imitation of Nero, seated himself in a rock 
 ing-chair upon a neighboring eminence, 
 and gloated over the scene of desolation. 
 It is also asserted that when he had com 
 pleted the work of destruction in these 
 
 pleasant and beautiful villages, he boast 
 ed of his clemency, declaring that the 
 existence of a single house was a monu 
 ment of the king s mercy ! Truly has it 
 been aid that Tryon was a disgrace to the 
 British name. He was a fit instrument 
 for an infatuated ministry; and, for his 
 wrong doings in America, before and du 
 ring the Revolution, the English people 
 thoroughly disliked him. 
 
 The estimated loss to (he people of 
 Connecticut by these depredations was 
 one hundred and twelve thousand six 
 hundred and forty-seven dollars, at New 
 Haven ; one hundred and eighty-one thou 
 sand three hundred and sixty-six dollars, 
 at Fairfield ; and one hundred and sixty- 
 eight thousand eight hundred and sixty- 
 eight dollars, at Norwalk comprising a 
 large amount in those days of limited 
 means and simple habits. 
 
 Tryon was arrested in the midst of his 
 barbarous raids upon Connecticut, by a 
 recall from Sir Henry Clinton, to confer 
 upon an attack on New London, which 
 town, being a great harbor of refuge for 
 American privateers, it was determined 
 to treat with the utmost severity. Sir 
 Henry had been persuaded that this pet 
 ty system of depredations which he was 
 now pursuing would, by striking at the 
 homes and property of the people, be 
 more effective than a nobler warfare. Its 
 effect, however, was onl} 7 to increase the 
 feeling of hostility, while it did not seri 
 ously diminish the means. 
 
 Still, the government of Great Britain 
 did not seem dissatisfied with the result; 
 and the minister, Lord George Germain, 
 wrote to Sir Henry Clinton, say ing : " The 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] STONY POINT. POMPEY, THE SHREWD NEGRO SPY. 
 
 699 
 
 expedition into Connecticut, upon which 
 you detached Major-General Trvon. was 
 
 / 7 
 
 ably planned and well executed ; and you 
 will acquaint Major-General Tryon, and 
 the otticers that were under his care, that 
 their conduct has met with his majesty s ap 
 probation." His lordship, notwith stand ing, 
 had some misgivings about the barbari 
 ties practised, for he adds : " I can not 
 help lamenting, with you, that the be 
 havior of the rebels, in firing from their 
 houses upon the troops, rendered it ne 
 cessary to make use of severities that are 
 ever painful to British soldiers to inflict." 
 
 General Wayne was now ready for the 
 attack upon Stony Point, which, in ac 
 cordance with the suggestion of Wash 
 ington, he had been contemplating for 
 some time. The works had been com 
 pleted by the British. Standing upon a 
 high promontory of rock, with the waters 
 of the Hudson on three sides, a morass 
 (which could only be crossed at low tide 
 by a narrow causeway) on the fourth, and 
 strongly fortified by art, Stony Point now 
 presented a formidable fortress. Fortifica 
 tions, compactly built, crowned the sum 
 mit; heavy cannon threatened every ap 
 proach; and on the acclivities were two 
 rows of abalLis. A garrison of sixhundred 
 choice British troops, under Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Johnson, manned the works, and 
 several English gun-vessels were floating 
 in the river within cannon-shot. 
 
 Wayne had diligently followed the ad 
 vice of Washington, and in conjunction 
 with the brave Major Lee had examined 
 in person the position of the fort. Infor 
 mation had been carefully sought from 
 deserters, and spies had been sent in to 
 
 gain every possible intelligence. To a 
 faithful negro belonging to a Captain 
 Lamb, an ardent patriot of the neighbor 
 hood, Wayne was indebted for the most 
 useful services. Pompey, this shrewd ne 
 gro, succeeded in gaining admission into 
 the fort, under the pretence of selling 
 fruit, and soon established a traffic by 
 which he was enabled to make frequent 
 visits without exciting suspicion. As the 
 season advanced, Pompey pleaded that 
 his labors in the field (it being "hoeing- 
 corn time") would prevent his visits by 
 day; whereupon, as he expected, he was 
 desired to make them by night. He was 
 accordingly provided with the counter 
 sign, "The fort is our own" in order that 
 he might be readily admitted at all hours 
 with his indispensable supplies for the re 
 freshment of the garrison. Pompey thus 
 acquired the most important information, 
 of which Wayne was glad to avail him 
 self, and chose him as his guide in the 
 cornirrg assault.* 
 
 General Wayne was now stationed at 
 Sandy beach, distant about four 
 teen miles from Stony Point, and 
 here he was joined at this time by the 
 Massachusetts infantry under Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Hale. Thus reinforced, Wayne 
 marched at noon, in the height of the 
 sweltering heat of the midsummer sun, 
 over craggy hills and through narrow de 
 files and deep morasses, to within a mile 
 and a half of the fort. So difficult and 
 narrow was the route, that for the great 
 est part of the way the troops were forced 
 to move in single file, and dixl not reach 
 their destination until eight o clock in the 
 
 * Lossing. 
 
 July 15, 
 
700 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 evening. Here, as they came Vipon the 
 ground, Wayne formed his force. The 
 regiments of Colonels Febigerand Meigs, 
 and Lieutenant- Colonel Bale s detach 
 ment of Massachusetts infantry, composed 
 the right column ; and Colonel Butler s 
 regiment, with the two companies of Ma 
 jor Murfey, formed the left. One hun 
 dred and fifty men volunteered to form 
 the van of the right, and were placed un 
 der the command of the gallant French 
 man, Lieutenant-Colonel Fleury. A hun 
 dred men, under Major Stewart, offered 
 themselves for the same position on the 
 left. Twenty picked men were selected 
 as a forlorn hope to precede each van, and 
 to remove the abattis and other obstruc 
 tions ; one party was led by Lieutenant 
 Gibbon, and the other by Lieutenant 
 Knox. Three hundred men, under Gen 
 eral Muhlenberg, were to remain behind 
 as a reserve, in case support should be 
 required, or a retreat become necessary. 
 General Wayne now rode forward with 
 his officers to reconnoitre, and, on his re 
 turn, prepared to begin the assault at half- 
 past eleven o clock that night, the time 
 fixed upon. Before moving, Wayne ex 
 horted his men to obey his injunctions 
 strictly, and not on any account to fire, 
 but to trust entirely to their bayonets. 
 Pompey s services were now put in re 
 quisition, and he led the way, accompa 
 nied by two stout and active soldiers, dis 
 guised as farmers. On coming up to the 
 first sentry, the negro repeated the coun 
 tersign; and, while engaging him in talk, 
 Pompey s stalwart companions suddenly 
 sprang upon the man and gagged him. 
 The next sentinel was caught and treated 
 
 m the same way. Thus the troops, with 
 out alarming the enemy, advanced to the 
 causeway, where they were detained im- 
 til past midnight, in consequence of the 
 fullness of the tide. 
 
 Once across the causeway, the columns 
 of the right and left advanced to their 
 work. Wayne himself headed the for 
 mer, and, repeating his order to his men 
 to rely entirely upon their bayonets, led 
 them on. The van had arrived within 
 pistol-shot of the pickets on the heights of 
 the promontory before the guards were 
 roused, when their fire alarmed the whole 
 garrison, which soon began to pour down 
 a fire of musketry and grape. The Amer 
 icans, however, obedient to command, did 
 not return a shot, but pushed steadily on 
 with fixed bayonets, and forced their way 
 in spite of every obstacle. Both the right 
 and left columns met in the centre of the 
 enemy s works almost at the same mo 
 ment. 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Fleury was the first 
 to enter and strike the British standard, 
 closely followed by Major Posey, his sec 
 ond in command, who sprang upon the 
 ramparts, shooting the enemy s counter 
 sign, " The fort is our oivn !" Wayne, while 
 advancing up the ascent, was struck on 
 the head by a musket-ball, and brought 
 to the ground. Thinking himself mortal 
 ly wounded, he cried to his aid-de-camp, 
 who came to his assistance, " Carry me 
 into the fort, and let me die at the head 
 of my column !" He was lifted up and 
 borne into the fortress in the midst of his 
 victorious troops. His wound proved less 
 serious than he had at first supposed, and 
 the general revived in time to share in 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. I STONY POINT REOCCUPIED BY THE BRITISH. 
 
 7ul 
 
 the immediate exultation on the success 
 of his enterprise. 
 
 The British yielded themselves up as 
 prisoners-of-war; and, before the morning 
 dawned, Wayne was enabled to send in 
 telligence of his victory to Washington, in 
 this characteristic despatch : 
 
 " STON-V POINT. July 16, 1779. ) 
 " Two o clock, A. At. \ 
 
 " DEAR GENERAL : The fort and garrison, 
 with Colonel Johnson, are ours. Our offi 
 cers and men behaved like men who are 
 determined to be free. 
 
 " Yours most sincerely, 
 
 " ANTHONY WAYNE." 
 
 Next morning, General Wayne turned 
 the guns of the captured fortress on the 
 works ol Fort Lafayette at Verplanck s 
 Point opposite, and upon the English ves 
 sels in the river. The latter were forced 
 to slip their cables and move down the 
 stream. The former stood fire ; for the 
 detachment of Americans under General 
 Robert Howe, which had been ordered 
 to attack the fort at Verplanck s Point, 
 in co-operation with Wayne, had failed | 
 in consequence of neglect to bring with 
 them the implements necessary for the | 
 success of the enterprise. 
 
 The loss of the Americans amounted 
 to fifteen killed and eighty-three wound 
 ed; that of the British to sixty-three in 
 killed, while the commander and all the 
 garrison (numbering fiv.e hundred and 
 forty-three officers and men) were taken 
 prisoners. The forty gallant men who 
 had volunteered to lead the van of the 
 Americans were the greatest sufferers in 
 
 the assault. Their daring officers, Lieu 
 tenants Gibbon and Knox, were especial 
 ly commended by Wayne in his despatch 
 for " their distinguished bravery." 
 
 On hearing of the fall of Stony Point, 
 Sir Henry Clinton immediately broke up 
 his conference at Throgg s Point, where 
 in conjunction with Tryon he was plan 
 ning an expedition against New London ; 
 and, abandoning that scheme, he hurried 
 up the Hudson with reinforcements. It 
 was hoped that Washington would risk a 
 battle for the possession of Stony Point ; 
 but, finding that it could not be held with 
 less than fifteen hundred men a force 
 which he could ill spare from his army 
 the commander-in-chief decided to aban 
 don it. 
 
 The fort, having been dismantled of its 
 cannon, and its stores removed, was de 
 stroyed ; whereupon the enemy 
 resumed possession of the site, 
 and reconstructed fortifications of greater 
 strength than ever. 
 
 Washington, solicitous for the safety 
 of West Point, now removed his head 
 quarters to that post, and urged on the 
 completion of the works in progress, un 
 der the supervision of Kosciusko. The 
 army was stationed, in two divisions, in 
 the Highlands of the Hudson, where it 
 remained until going into winter-quarters 
 in December. The right wing, consisting 
 of the Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Vir 
 ginia troops, were on the west side of the 
 river, and commanded by General Put 
 nam. The left wing, made up of New- 
 England troops, under General Heath, 
 rested on the east side. 
 
 July 18. 
 
702 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIX. 
 
 Paul Jones in France. He gets a Squadron. The Bon Homme Richard. Sailing of the Ships. Refitting at Brest. 
 A British Cruiser taken. L Orient. The Richard all alone. A Hundred American Tars. First-Lieutenant Dale. 
 A Fresh Cruise. Occasional Prizes. Attempt on Leith. A Gale. The Bon Homme Riehurd aoandoned by her 
 Consorts. A Daring Plan. Falls in with a British Fleet. The Fight begins. Jones abandoned by Captain Landais. 
 The Serapis. A Close Hug. The Enemy attempt to board. The Repulse. The Man in the Tops An Explo 
 sion. Terrible Havoc. A Friend turned Enemy. Panic. Treason. Quarter. Fierce Oaths. The Fight renewed 
 Fire. The Serapis strikes her Flag. The Richard abandoned, and goes down. Jones hoists his Flag on board the 
 Serapis. The Blood spilt. 
 
 1779, 
 
 PAUL JONES S spirited and success 
 ful cruise in the Ranger, on the Eng 
 lish coast, had won for him great renown 
 in France ; and consequently he found 
 his ambitious projects readily seconded by 
 the French government. A small squad 
 ron, consisting of the Duras, the Alliance, 
 the Pallas, the Cerf, and the Vengeance, 
 was now placed under his command. The 
 Alliance was the only American-built ship 
 among them, but they were all to carry 
 the American ensign, and were to be gov 
 erned and considered in every respect as 
 American vessels. 
 
 Benjamin Frankli-n, then the United 
 States minister at the court of Versailles, 
 had rendered effective aid in obtaining 
 and fitting out the squadron ; and Paul 
 Jones complimented the philosopher by 
 changing the name of his Hag-ship, the 
 Duras, to the Bon Homme Richard, a free 
 rendering in French of the proverbial 
 "Poor Richard." This vessel had been an | 
 Indiaman, and was clumsily constructed, 
 with an old-fashioned poop, which rose 
 from the stern like a tower. She was 
 originally a single-decked ship, but Jones 
 caused twelve ports to be cut in the gun 
 
 room, where he mounted six old eigh teen- 
 pounders, which had done service in the 
 French navy for thirty years. Her whole 
 armament amounted to forty-two guns, 
 of varying weights, but generally rattier 
 light. 
 
 The crew consisted of a motley mix 
 ture of English, Scotch, Portuguese, Amer 
 icans, Germans. Spaniards, Swedes, Ital 
 ians, Malays, and channel-islanders. The 
 officers, however, were for the most part 
 Americans. One hundred and thirty-five 
 marines, hardly less diversified in their 
 nationality than the crew, were taken on 
 board, chiefly to assist in preserving the 
 discipline of the vessel. The Alliance was 
 the best ship in the fleet; but, as related 
 in a previous chapter,* she was command 
 ed by Captain Landais, a Frenchman, and 
 failed under his handling to be of the <>i- 
 fective service that was expected. All the 
 other vessels, with the exception of the 
 Bon Homme liichard, were likewise under 
 French commanders. 
 
 The squadron got under weigh from 
 
 L Orient, and, having convoyed 
 
 June 19. 
 
 some transports and coasters to 
 
 * See page 164- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 PAUL JONES IN THE NORTH SEA. 
 
 703 
 
 heir destined ports in France, prepared 
 for a cruise. While lying- to, the Alli 
 ance, by clumsy management, got foul 
 of the Richard, losing by the collision her 
 own mizzen-mast, and carrying away the 
 head, cut-water, and jib-boom, of her con 
 cert. They were now forced to return 
 to L Orient for repairs. 
 
 While making for port, the Cerf was 
 sent in chase of a strange sail, and suc 
 ceeded in coming up with what proved 
 to ue a small English cruiser of sixteen 
 guns. After a sharp action of about an 
 hour, the enemy was forced to strike her 
 flag , but the Cerf had to abandon her, on 
 the appearance of a larger British vessel, 
 and made her way to L Orient, with a loss 
 of several men killed and wounded. 
 
 The rest of the squadron, in the mean 
 time, had caught sight of three British 
 men-of-war, which bore down before the 
 wind as if disposed to engage ; but, prob 
 ably frightened by the apparent magni 
 tude of the Richard, which stood high out 
 of the water, and looked like a two-decker, 
 they soon hauled up and made off with 
 all the sail they could carry, and thus es 
 caped. 
 
 The Richard was now left alone, the 
 Alliance and the Pallas having parted 
 company, and the Vengeance having been 
 sent into port. Captain Jones, however, 
 continued to look out for an antagonist, 
 and soon fell in with two British cruisers ; 
 hut, after first threatening to engage, they 
 made off again, as if alarmed, like their 
 countrymen on the previous occasion, by 
 the iormidable aspect of the pretentious 
 American. Jones now 7 made the best of 
 Ins way to his old anchorage, under the 
 
 isle of Groix, off L Orient. Here the en 
 tire squadron was reunited. 
 
 Jones was detained by the necessary 
 repairs to his vessel, the session of a coiir* 
 of inquiry appointed to investigate the 
 conduct of Landais (of the Alliance) in 
 running foul of the Richard, and other 
 matters, for more than six weeks. In the 
 meantime, however, he ha,d the good for 
 tune to gain a very welcome accession to 
 his crew by the arrival in France of more 
 than a hundred American sailors. These 
 were men who had been held as prison 
 ers in England, and were now exchanged. 
 They almost to a man joined the Ameri 
 can squadron, and were chiefly divided 
 between the Richard and the Alliance. 
 Jones now 7 counted no less than three 
 hundred and eighty souls on board his 
 ship, and nearly a hundred of these were 
 Americans, as were all his quarter-deck 
 officers, with the exception of himself and 
 a midshipman. A young American offi 
 cer, of the name of Richard Dale, who 
 had made his escape from an English 
 prison, and joined the squadron on its 
 first cruise, won so greatly the esteem of 
 his commander, that he was now pro 
 moted to the rank of first-lieutenant. 
 
 The squadron at length put to 
 sea for the second time, with a 
 reinforcement of two French privateers, 
 the Monsieur and the Granville. A dis 
 pute about the division of a prize taken 
 a few days after sailing, however, caused 
 the commander of the Monsieur to leave, 
 which was felt to be a serious loss, as his 
 ship mounted no less than forty guns. 
 With various incidents, and an occasional 
 success in taking a prize, the squadron 
 
 Aiiff, 14, 
 
704 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Sept, 13, 
 
 (with the exception of the Cerf, which 
 had returned to France) sailed around 
 Ireland and Scotland, until it came off 
 the frith of Forth 
 
 Jones, having learned that a 
 twenty-gun ship and two or three 
 men-of-war cutters were lying off Leith, 
 the port of Edinburgh, two miles distant, 
 determined to make a descent upon the 
 town. He accordingly beat into the frith 
 with the Richard, until he arrived within 
 gun-shot of Leith, when he got out his 
 boats and manned them. His first-lieu 
 tenant, Dale, who was to command the 
 sailors on the occasion, was about receiv 
 ing his last orders, when a sudden squall 
 struck the ships and nearly dismasted 
 them. Jones strove to keep his ground, 
 with the view of carrying out his pur 
 pose, but the wind became too strong, and 
 he was obliged to bear up. A severe gale 
 followed, in the course of which all the 
 vessels were driven into the North sea, 
 and one of the prizes foundered. 
 
 Another still more daring enterprise 
 was planned by the bold commodore, but 
 his French subordinates strenuously pro 
 tested against carrying it into effect. The 
 scheme has never been explained, but it 
 is said to have been warmly sanctioned 
 by every officer from lieutenant to mid 
 shipman. Apparently with the fear that 
 Jones would not be deterred from his 
 project by the opinions of his colleagues, 
 two of them determined to thwart him 
 by their acts, and accordingly the com 
 manders of the Pallas and the Vengeance 
 sailed off with their ships. As the com 
 modore could ill spare any of his little 
 squadron, he reluctantly abandoned his 
 
 Sept, 23 
 
 scheme, and sailed to the south, to over 
 take the absentees. 
 
 OffWhitby. on the coast of Yorkshire, 
 the Pallas and the Vengeance again joined 
 company with the commodore, and with 
 the aid of the latter he entered the Hum 
 her and took and destroyed a number of 
 vessels. The wdiole coast now became 
 greatly alarmed, and the inhabitants were 
 so frightened, that many of them began 
 to bury their plate and money. With 
 this general excitement on shore, Jones 
 thought it advisable to keep off the land, 
 and he accordingly bore away in the di 
 rection of Flamborough head. While 
 steering toward the north, two sails were 
 made, which turned out to- be the Alli 
 ance and the Pallas; and on the 
 second day after leaving the 
 mouth of the Humber, occurred the most, 
 memorable event in the career of Paul 
 Jones. 
 
 The wind was southerly and light, ami 
 the sea smooth, as the American squadron 
 now composed of the Richard, the Al 
 liance, the Pallas, and the Vengeance 
 gathered together. Soon a fleet of more 
 than forty sail was seen stretching out 
 from behind Flamborough head, and turn 
 ing down toward the straits of Dover. 
 It was mainly composed of traders re 
 turning from the Baltic, under convoy of 
 the Serapis (forty-four), Captain Bicliard 
 Pearson, and the Countess of Scarborough 
 (twenty-two), Captain Piercy. The for 
 mer was a new ship, with a good reputa 
 tion as a sailer. She carried fifty guns 
 twenty eigh teen-pounders on the lowei 
 gim-deck,twenty nine-pounders on the up 
 per, and ten six-pounders on her quarter 
 
 I i 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE BON HOMME RICHARD AND THE SERAPIS. 
 
 705 
 
 deck and forecastle, and was manned by 
 a regular man-of-war s crew, numbering 
 three hundred and twenty, of whom some 
 fifteen were Lascars. The Scarborough 
 was not a naval vessel, but had been armed 
 and was now being temporarily used as 
 such. 
 
 Commodore Jones, on discovering the 
 character of the fleet, hoisted a signal for 
 the rest of the squadron to begin a gen 
 eral chase, and crossed royal yards on 
 board his own vessel. The English fleet 
 of merchantmen were alarmed by these 
 signs of hostility, and, hurriedly tacking 
 together, firin<; alarm-guns, letting fly 
 
 o o o o / 
 
 their top-gallant sheets, and making oth 
 er signals of the danger they were in, 
 ran to leeward or sought shelter closer 
 in with the land. The Serapis, on the 
 contrary, signalling the Scarborough to 
 follow, hauled boldly out to sea, until she 
 got far enough to windward, when she 
 tacked and stood in shore again, to cover 
 her convoy.* Captain Pearson had been 
 informed, by the bailiff of the town of 
 Scarborough, of the presence of the Amer 
 ican squadron, and was accordingly on 
 his guard. 
 
 The Alliance, being the fastest sailer, 
 took the lead in the chase. As she moved 
 ahead, Captain Landais spoke the Pallas, 
 and told her commander that, if the ene 
 my proved to be a fifty-gun ship, there 
 was nothing to do but to try to get out 
 of his way. Landais acted accordingly; 
 for he had no sooner closed in sufficiently 
 with the land to discover the size of the 
 Serapis, than he hauled off again. His 
 
 * Cooper, whose ;iccount we follow, as being the most 
 authentic on record. 
 
 89 
 
 example was also followed by the Pallas ; 
 but, as her commander conducted himself 
 so well in the subsequent part of the ac 
 tion, it has been readily allowed that he 
 was under the supposition, as he afterward 
 declared, that the crew of the Richard 
 (since she was observed heading for the 
 land) had mutinied, and were running off 
 with her. 
 
 It was now quite dark, and Jones was 
 obliged to use a night-glass in order to 
 follow the movements of the enemy. The 
 Richard, however, stood steadily on, and 
 about half-past seven she came up with 
 the Serapis, while the Scarborough was a 
 short distance to leeward. The American 
 ship was to windward, and, as she slowly 
 drew near, Captain Pearson hailed her: 
 " What ship is that ?" The answer was, 
 " Come a little nearer, and I ll tell you." 
 " What are you laden with ?" rejoined the 
 Englishman. " Round, grape, and double- 
 headed shot!" was the ready-witted re 
 sponse to what was considered by a man- 
 of-war a contemptuous demand ; and the 
 two ships, without further parley, poured 
 in their broadsides almost simultaneously. 
 
 The discharge proved terribly disas 
 trous to the Richard ; for two of the eigh- 
 teen-pounders which Jones had caused to 
 be placed in the gun-room, and from which 
 he had expected so much good service, 
 burst on the first fire, killing many of the 
 men, and blowing up the deck above. All 
 faith in these old eighteen-pounders be 
 ing now gone, the men were ordered to 
 abandon them, and trust entirely to their 
 other guns. The inequality of the con 
 test was in this way greatly increased, for 
 
 / o / 
 
 it reduced the armament of the Richard 
 
706 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 to nearly a third less than that of her an 
 tagonist. 
 
 The Richard, having backed her top 
 sails, exchanged several broadsides, when 
 she filled again and shot ahead of the 
 Serapis, which ship luffed across her stern, 
 and came up on the weather-quarter of 
 her antagonist, taking the wind out of 
 her sails, and in her turn passing ahead. 
 
 In the meantime, while the two ships 
 were engaged closely and furiously, the 
 Scarborough approached ; but in the dark 
 ness of the night not being able to distin 
 guish friend from foe, she edged away, 
 without firing a shot. The Scarborough, 
 however, exchanged broadsides with the 
 Alliance at a great distance, and was at 
 lf.ot brought tc close quarters by the Pal 
 las, and, after a struggle of about an hour, 
 forced CD strike her flag. 
 
 Let us, however, return to the two 
 main antagonists. " As the Serapis kept 
 her luff," says Cooper, " sailing and work 
 ing better than the Richard, it was the 
 intention of Captain Pearson to pay broad 
 off across the latter s forefoot, as soon as 
 he had got far enough ahead ; but, ma 
 king the attempt, and finding he had not 
 room, he put his helm hard down to keep 
 clear of his adversary, when the double 
 movement brought the two ships nearly 
 in a line, the Serapis leading. By these 
 uncertain evolutions the English ship lost 
 some of her way; while the American, 
 having kept her sails trimmed, not only 
 closed, but actually ran aboard of her an 
 tagonist, bows on, a little on Jier weather- 
 quarter." At this moment, Jones cried 
 out: "Well done, my brave lads; we ve 
 fc ot her now! Throw on board the 
 
 grappling-irons, and stand by for board 
 
 ing! 
 
 A 
 
 As, during these manoeuvres, not a shot 
 had been fired for some time, Captain 
 Pearson hailed his antagonist, demanding, 
 " Have you struck your colors?" "I have 
 not yet begun to fiyht /" was Jones s answer. 
 The chains of the grappling-irons having 
 been cut away, and the yards of the Rich 
 ard being braced back, while the sails of 
 the Serapis were filled, the two vessels 
 separated. As soon as she was at a suffi 
 cient distance, the Serapis put her helm 
 hard down, laid all aback forward, shiv 
 ered her after-sails, and wore short round 
 on her heel, or was box-hauled, with a 
 view, most probably, of 1 n (Ting up athwart 
 the bow of her enemy, in order to rake 
 her. " In this position, the Richard would 
 have been fighting her starboard and the 
 Serapis her larboard guns ; but Commo 
 dore Jones, by this time, was conscious 
 of the hopelessness of success against so 
 much heavier metal ; and, after having 
 backed astern some distance, he filled on 
 the other tack, luffing up with the inten 
 tion of meeting the enemy as he came 
 to the wind, and of laying him athwart 
 hawse."* 
 
 In the smoke and confusion as the 
 firing continued the whole time from 
 deck to main-top there was necessarily 
 great difficulty in manoeuvring, and the 
 two vessels ran foul again, the bowsprit 
 of the Serapis passing over the Richard s 
 poop. As the weather was mild, neither 
 ship had much headway, and no damage 
 was done by the collision. Paul Jones, 
 having now got the enemy fast, resolved 
 
 * Cooper. 
 
REVOLUTION ART. J 
 
 THE DESPERATE FIGHT. 
 
 707 
 
 not to let him go again ; and accordingly, 
 taking some lashings, he fastened with 
 his own hands the head-gear of the Sera- 
 pis to the Richard s mizzen-mast. Stacey, 
 the sailing-master, a Yankee skipper, was 
 at Jones s side, assisting him, and was 
 swearing with all the energy of an old 
 tar. " Mr. Stacey," exclaimed the commo- 
 
 / J 
 
 dore, who was ordinarily not very honey- 
 tongued himself, " this is no time for swear 
 ing you may be the next moment in 
 eternity ; but let us do our duty."* 
 
 The Serapis, being before the wind, 
 now had her hull swung round by her 
 after-sails, and the two ships fell close 
 alongside of each other. The jib-boom, 
 however, of the Serapis, which Jones had 
 lashed, gave way in the strain ; but her 
 spare anchor having got hooked into the 
 quarter of the Richard, and additional 
 lashings got out, she became faster than 
 ever. 
 
 Captain Pearson, finding that the ves 
 sels were foul, dropped an anchor, with 
 the hope that, as the current was setting 
 strong, his enemy might drift clear of 
 him ; since, knowing the superiority of 
 his ship, he preferred a regular combat 
 with his guns to a close hand-to-hand 
 struggle. The vessels, however, were too 
 fast to part thus. The hulls were jammed 
 
 * 
 
 close alongside ; the yards were inter 
 locked, so that the sailors of the Richard 
 could pass from her maintop to the fore- 
 top of the Serapis ; strong lashings bound 
 the ships close together fore and aft ; and 
 the mouldings and ornamental work of 
 the bows and sterns of the two had got 
 so inextricably caught, that all hope of 
 
 * Analectic Magazine, vol. viii. An eye-witness. 
 
 working clear had to be given up. Find 
 ing themselves thus locked in a fatal em 
 brace, the English strove to board, but 
 were driven back. 
 
 The fight now raged fiercely. The low 
 er ports of the Serapis, which had been 
 closed as she swung, to prevent boarding, 
 were now blown off. as there was no room 
 between the closely-jammed hulls to raise 
 them. The guns were actually so close 
 to the sides of the Richard, that in load 
 ing them the rammers projected into her 
 ports. These heavy guns of the Serapis, 
 with their muzzles thrust into the very 
 ports of her enemy, cleared all before 
 them ; and the Americans were obliged 
 to forsake their main-deck, and gather 
 above. Some mounted the upper deck 
 and forecastle, while others got upon the 
 yards and into the tops, whence they kept 
 up a constant fire of musketry, and threw 
 hand-grenades. 
 
 The enemy was having the fight all 
 to himself below, tearing the hull of the 
 Richard to pieces with his heavy guns. 
 The guns, amidships, from the close con 
 tact of the two vessels, were of no use, 
 for they could neither be sponged nor 
 loaded. Jones could only bring into ser 
 vice three or four of his smaller cannon 
 on the quarter-deck, one of which he had 
 dragged over from the larboard side, and 
 stood by it himself directing its fire 
 through the whole action. The enemy 
 seemed determined to carry the day, and 
 would have done so, but for the activity 
 and spirit of the Richard s men in the 
 tops. 
 
 Jones s sailors and marines lay out on 
 the Richard s main-vard : and. while some 
 
708 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 threw grenades down upon the enemy s 
 deck, others kept up a constant fire with 
 musketry, blunderbusses, pistols, 
 and every other kind of firearm 
 which they could get hold of. Almost 
 every man of the SerapLs was thus driven 
 below. They were not even safe here. 
 One bold fellow had provided himself with 
 a bucketful of combustibles and a match, 
 and taken his post on the extreme end 
 of the Richard s yard, whence he dropped 
 his grenades down into the very main- 
 hatchway of the Serapis. One of these 
 grenades probably settled the day. By 
 the carelessness of the powder-boys of 
 the Serapis, a number of cartridges had 
 been left on the main-deck, in a line with 
 the guns, when a grenade dropped right 
 among them, and in a moment the whole 
 exploded in a flash from main to mizzen 
 mast ! 
 
 The effect of the explosion was terrific. 
 More than a score of men were killed out 
 right, and so completely torn to pieces, 
 that of some nothing was left but the col 
 lars and wristbands of their shirts, or the 
 waistbands of their duck trousers. Thir 
 ty-eight more were wounded, and some 
 so severely, that there was little hope of 
 recovery. Nearly sixty of the Serapis s 
 crew were thus disabled, and all were 
 greatly disheartened by the fatal acci 
 dent. The sufferings and cries of the in 
 jured were so heart-rending, that the peo 
 ple of the Serapis, who were all crowded 
 below, and were thus compelled to wit 
 ness and hear them, began t9 give up in 
 despair. Their drooping spirits, however, 
 were suddenly aroused to hope, if not by 
 an alleviation of their own misery, yet 
 
 by a misfortune which now happened to 
 their enemy. 
 
 The Alliance came bearing down, and, 
 although the moon was up and the night 
 clear, began to fire upon both friend and 
 foe, her shots telling more severely upon 
 the Richard than upon the Serapis. Fifty 
 voices from the former at once hailed her, 
 to tell her captain that he was firing up 
 on the wrong; vessel, and the usual niirht- 
 
 O c^ 
 
 signal of three lanterns was shown on the 
 off side, while Jones ordered Landais to 
 lay his ship aboard the enemy. He was 
 asked if he understood the order, and he 
 declared that he did. Landais then hauled 
 off to some distance, but soon after drew 
 closer, and began his fire again, pouring 
 his broadsides indiscriminately into both 
 vessels. Ten or twelve of the Richard s 
 men on the forecastle fell ; and an officer 
 of the name of Caswell, who was killed, 
 complained during the last moments of 
 his life, with a bitterness which added to 
 the agony of death, that he died by the 
 hands of his friends. 
 
 The Alliance did great damage to the 
 
 o O 
 
 Richard. Her men became discouraged, 
 and, leaving their guns, declared that the 
 Englishmen on board the former had got 
 possession of the ship. The Richard s tops 
 were cut up, and her hull so damaged by 
 the fire of the Alliance, and the water 
 came in so freely through the shot-holes, 
 that she began to settle. There was now 
 a panic on board among the crew. A ru 
 mor circulated between- decks that the 
 commodore and all his principal officers 
 were slain, that the gunners were now in 
 command, and that the ship had four or 
 five feet of water in her hold. The sail- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 CAPTURE OF THE SERAPIS. 
 
 709 
 
 ors accordingly delegated the gunner, the 
 carpenter, and the master-at-arms, to go 
 on deck and beg quarter of the enemy. 
 The English prisoners belonging to the 
 prizes which had been taken, who num 
 bered about one hundred, were let loose 
 in the meantime, to save their lives ; and 
 one of them crept from the port of the 
 Richard into that of the Serapis, and in 
 formed the British commander that in a 
 few minutes all would be over with his 
 enemy. 
 
 The gunner, in the meantime, reached 
 the main-deck, followed by his associate 
 delegates, and bawling out aloud, " Quar 
 ter, quarter, for God s sake quarter ! our 
 ship is sinking !" they got upon the ship s 
 poop, in order to haul down the colors. 
 The ensign and ensign-staff, however, had 
 long since been shot away, and the three 
 accordingly proceeded to the quarter-deck 
 and began to haul at the pendant, still 
 crying, "Quarter!" "What rascals are 
 those ? Shoot them kill them!" fiercely 
 shouted Jones, who had now for the first 
 time caught si<>-ht of the fellows, as he had 
 
 O O 
 
 been away for a moment on the forecas 
 tle. The carpenter and the master-at-arms 
 no sooner heard that terrible voice, than 
 they skulked below, where the gunner 
 was attempting to follow them, when the 
 commodore hurled a pistol at his head, 
 which knocked him down at the foot of 
 the gangway, where he lay senseless un 
 til the end of the battle/ 5 
 
 Captain Pearson, having heard the cry 
 for quarter, and listened to the story of 
 the English prisoner, now hailed his an 
 tagonist, crying, "Why don t you haul 
 
 * An eye-witness. Analeetie Magazine. 
 
 down your pendant ?" The ensign, as we 
 have seen, had already been shot away. 
 "Haul down our pendant?" cried Jones. 
 "Ay, ay ! ive tt do that when we can fight no 
 longer : we are tvaiting for yours to come down 
 first!" 
 
 The conflict was now renewed, with 
 greater vigor than ever, but was soon sus 
 pended by the Richard taking fire. The 
 ship had already been several times in 
 flames, which had, how r ever, been easily 
 quenched by the tub of water in the fore- 
 top. The tub, nevertheless, was emptied 
 again and again without effect, when at 
 last the crew, by pulling off their coats 
 and jackets, and first smothering the fire, 
 succeeded in putting it out. The English 
 captain now hailed again, to ask if Jones 
 demanded quarter ; and, mistaking thu 
 answer, which was in the negative, he o> 
 dered his men to take possession of the 
 prize. He soon found out his mistake, 
 however; for when some of his crew got 
 on the gunwale of the Richard, they were 
 met by a gang of boarders with their 
 pikes, and forced to retreat in haste to 
 their own ship. The American top-men 
 now drove the crew of the Serapis (who 
 had been ordered on deck) down below 
 again, where they resumed their position 
 at the lower guns, and continued their 
 fire through and through the Richard s 
 hull. 
 
 All fighting, however, soon ceased, as 
 both ships were on fire, and their crews 
 were busy in extinguishing the flames; 
 while many of the men on board the Rich 
 ard were kept constantly at the pumps, 
 to prevent her sinking. The Serapis had 
 been on fire twelve times duriny; the ac- 
 
710 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [TAUT 11. 
 
 tion,and her antagonist may be said never 
 to have ceased burning during the whole 
 
 time. It was past midnight, and 
 senti 9 3. 
 
 about three and a half hours 
 
 since the first gun had been fired, when 
 Captain Pearson at last determined to 
 strike to Jones. None of the crew could 
 be persuaded to mount the quarter-deck 
 for the purpose, so fearful were they of 
 a shot from the Richard s top-men, and 
 the British commander was obliged to 
 haul down the flag of the Serapis with his 
 own hands. 
 
 As soon as it was known that the col 
 ors of the English had been lowered, Mr. 
 Dale, the first-lieutenant, got upon the 
 gunwale of the Richard, and, laying hold 
 of her main-brace pendant, he swung him 
 self on board the Serapis. On her quar 
 ter-deck he found Captain Pearson, almost 
 alone, where he had remained through 
 out nearly the whole action. While Mr. 
 Dale was speaking to him, the first-lieu 
 tenant of the Serapis came up from be 
 low, to inquire if the Richard had struck, 
 as her fire had ceased. He was, however, 
 informed that it was his own ship which 
 was in that predicament ; when he pro 
 posed to go below, and stop the firing. 
 But Dale would not consent ; and the en 
 emy s guns did not cease till the British 
 captain and his lieutenant had reached 
 the quarter-deck of the Richard, and sur- 
 
 Sept, 24. 
 
 rendered their swords into the hands of 
 Paul Jones.* 
 
 The Richard, having been so damaged 
 in the action, and being still on fire, it 
 was found necessary to abandon 
 her the next day, and soon after 
 she went down, head foremost. The Sera- 
 pis had suffered much less in her hull, but 
 her mainmast had been so riddled with 
 balls that it fell, bringing down with it 
 the mizzen-topmast. 
 
 Commodore Jones, having; first hoisted 
 
 ? O 
 
 his flag on board the captured ship, now 
 sailed with the remains of his squadron 
 and his prize to the coast of Holland, 
 where he put into the Texel, for repairs. 
 The loss of lives on both- sides seems 
 to have been about equal, and amounted 
 to nearly one half of all en^ao-ed. The 
 
 / o o 
 
 conflict had lasted nearly four hours, and, 
 sanguinary as it had been, it would have 
 proved still more so, and far less protract 
 ed, had it not been for the fact that the 
 crew of the Serapis were fighting below, 
 while the crew of the Richard were fight 
 ing above. 
 
 * "It is with <^reat reluctance that I am obliged to resign 
 my sword to a man with a halter about his neck," are the 
 apocryphal words attributed to the British commander on 
 this occasion, to which Jones is said to have answered chiv 
 alrously, " Sir, you have fought like a hero, and I do not 
 doubt but that your sovereign will reward you handsomely." 
 Pearson was afterward rewarded with the title of baronet, 
 when Jones is again said to have remarked, " The next time 
 I fall in with him, I 11 make a lord of him ! ; 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] MAJOR LEE S EXPLOIT AT 1 AULUS HOOK. 
 
 11 
 
 CHAPTER LXXX. 
 
 Henry Lee s Attack on Paulas Hook. Its Success. A Massachusetts Enterprise. Great Enthusiasm. Extensive 
 Preparations. Military and Naval Forces. Parallels and Approaches. An Obstinate Enemy. Massachusetts gives 
 up Penobscot Buy in Despair. The Fate of the Massachusetts Fleet. The South. The French Fleet. Its Arrival 
 off the Coast of Georgia. The British taken by Surprise. Captures. Flight. Cuunt d Estaing in Haste. Too po 
 lite and self-confident. General Prevost fortifies Savannah. The Spirited Maitland. Prevost will defend Himself to 
 the Last Extremity. The Siege begun. Description of Savannah and its Fortifications. Impatience of D Estaing. 
 The Assault. The Struggle. Death of Count Pulaski. Defeat of the AUies. The Loss. Count d Estaing sails 
 away. End of the Southern Campaign of 1779. A Clever Ruse. Valueless Victories. 
 
 1779. 
 
 THE gallant Major Henry Lee 
 was always eager for action ; and, 
 as there was little prospect of a general 
 campaign, he took care to find out a 
 sphere for the exercise of his own super 
 fluous energies. He was now stationed 
 with his light-troops, as an outpost, on 
 the New-Jersey side of the Hudson, a 
 short distance behind Hoboken. Here 
 he was constantly on the alert, keeping 
 watch over the movements of the enemy, 
 and, when occasion offered, pouncing up 
 on their foraging-par.ties. Near his post 
 was Paulus Hook (now Jersey City), a 
 long and low peninsula, stretching into 
 the Hudson river, and joined to the main 
 land by a marsh. The British had forti 
 fied the position strongly, and occupied it 
 with a garrison of several hundred men, 
 under the command of Major 1 Sutherland. 
 The works were formidable, consisting of 
 
 o 
 
 two redoubts, mounted with heavy can 
 non, enclosed within breastworks, abattis, 
 and trenches. A deep ditch was dug 
 across the narrow marsh which separated 
 the hook from the mainland, and a draw 
 bridge, protected by a barred gate, thrown 
 over. 
 
 While keeping his watchful eye .,n the 
 place, Lee had noticed the negligence of 
 the garrison, who, trusting to the strength 
 
 * / O O 
 
 of their works, became heedless cf the 
 usual precautions. The major therefore 
 determined, if possible, to take the hook 
 by surprise. Washington, on being con 
 sulted, at first considered the enterprise 
 too hazardous; but afterward, upon con 
 ferring with Lee personally on the sub 
 ject, he gave his approval. . He declared, 
 however, that if the post could not be 
 taken in an instant, by surprise, the at 
 tempt must not be made. 
 
 Thus fortified by the approbation of 
 the commander-in-chief, Major Lee start 
 ed with three hundred infantry 
 soldiers and a troop of his own 
 dismounted dragoons, to execute his haz 
 ardous enterprise. To deceive those ir?. 
 the country who were friendly to the en 
 emy, Lee took care to have it rumored 
 that he was going out merely to forage, 
 and took a long and circuitous route. 
 
 His march through the country excited 
 no suspicion, as these foraging-excursions 
 were of c very-day occurrence. On am- 
 
 / */ 
 
 ving at the New bridge, on the Hackei.- 
 
 Aiig. 18. 
 
712 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 sack river, Lee halted his party till Lord 
 Stirling should come up with his five hun 
 dred men, who were to remain there as 
 a reserve, in case their aid should be re 
 quired. When the night was sufficiently 
 advanced, Lee pushed forward through 
 the rugged country between the Hack- 
 ensack and the Hudson. Having crossed 
 Harsimus creek, be passed over the draw 
 bridge, and through the barred gate, into 
 the works, without exciting the least sus 
 picion. A party of the enemy was fortu 
 nately out foraging, and the Americans 
 weie thought by the careless guards to 
 be their GWL countrymen, and were per 
 mitted to enter without question. 
 
 Major Lee s purpose was effected al- | 
 most without a blow. Major Sutherland 
 and some Hessians, however, at the last 
 moment, succeeded in escaping into a 
 blockhouse, after Lee had secured a hun 
 dred and fifty-nine prisoners, and thence 
 began ai. irregular (ire, by which two of 
 j.Qe s party were killed and three wound 
 ed. There was no time to dislodge them, 
 as the alarm had now extended to the 
 English men-of-war in the North river, 
 and would soon rench the British head 
 quarters opposite, in New York ; while, 
 moreover, Lee had been strictly enjoined 
 by Washington not to risk the lives of his 
 men by remaining to destroy barracks or 
 artillery. In the assault the British had 
 thirty killed. The American commander 
 made good his retreat, under the cover 
 of General Lord Stirling, and had the sat 
 isfaction of being welcomed back to camp 
 with the applause of every officer and sol 
 dier for his triumphant gallantry. Med- 
 a?e had been awarded by Congress to Gen 
 
 eral Wayne and the leaders of the two 
 divisions in the storming of Stony Point ; 
 and the same honor was now conferred 
 upon Major Lee for his brave exploit at 
 Paul us Hook. 
 
 A more pretentious but less successful 
 enterprise was got up in Massachusetts. 
 Colonel M Lean, in command of the- Brit 
 ish troops in Nova Scotia, had gone with 
 nearly seven hundred men and three 
 sloops-of-war to establish a post on Penob- 
 scot bay, in order to obtain timber from 
 the forests of Maine for the shipyards at 
 Halifax, and to check the incursions of 
 the New-Englanders. M-Lean selected 
 some high ground on a peninsula, with a 
 small bay toward the sea, in which the 
 three sloops-of-war now rode at anchor, 
 and a steep ascent on the land-side. Here 
 he commenced the construction of a fort, 
 which was still incomplete when he re 
 ceived intelligence of the setting out of 
 a large force to attack him. 
 
 Massachusetts was greatly provoked 
 by this invasion of its territory, and the 
 state determined to make a vigorous ef 
 fort to defend itself and vindicate its in 
 sulted honor. Confident in its own re 
 sources, the government at Boston proud 
 ly disdained all aid, and neither consulted 
 Washington at West Point nor General 
 Gates at Providence, nor asked them for 
 troops. The enterprise was got up on a 
 scale that was supposed to insure success, 
 and Massachusetts was resolved to allow 
 none other to share in the expected tri 
 umph. 
 
 Great military enthusiasm prevailed on 
 the occasion, and some three thousand en 
 terprising militiamen were enrolled under 
 
RKVOLUTIONARY.] DISASTROUS EXPEDITION TO THE PENOBSCOT. 
 
 713 
 
 the standard of Lovell, who was the gen 
 eral appointed to the command. The na 
 val preparations were no less spirited and 
 extensive.. An embargo was laid by the 
 general court of Massachusetts, for forty 
 
 O v 
 
 days, upon all shipping, in order that a 
 full supply of seamen might more readily 
 be obtained. Captain Saltonstall, the state 
 commodore, now gathered under his broad 
 pendant a formidable fleet of no less than 
 twenty armed vessels, brigan tines and pri 
 vateers, in addition to twenty-four trans 
 ports for the conveyance of the troops. 
 
 The fleet, being wind-bound for some 
 time in Nantasket roads, at length made 
 
 its appearance off the Penobscot. 
 Julv ^5t 
 
 Finding the entrance to the lit 
 tle bay, below the enemy s fort, barred 
 by the three British sloops-of-war, which 
 were anchored across its mouth, the Amer 
 icans sought another anchorage and more 
 convenient landing-place. After a delay 
 of three days, the troops finally debarked. 
 Having climbed up the steep approach 
 from the land, and dragged their heavy 
 camion after them, they took their posi 
 tion within seven hundred and fifty yards, 
 and in regular form began to lay siege to 
 the fort. 
 
 While General Lovell was proceeding, 
 according to the most approved military 
 art, with his parallels and approaches, the 
 British colonel improved the opportunity 
 of strengthening his incomplete works, 
 and finally became so confident in his 
 means of resistance, that, after refusing 
 the summons to surrender, he fearlessly 
 scorned all threats of assault. 
 
 Lovell continued the protracted siege, 
 with an occasional attempt at co-opera- 
 
 Aug. 14. 
 
 tion on the part of Commodore Salton- 
 sta,ll, who made several not very vigorous 
 efforts to enter the harbor, which were, 
 however, always defeated by the British 
 sloops-of-war on guard at its entrance. 
 The militia now began to grow weary of 
 the long trial of their undisciplined pa 
 tience ; and Lovell was fain to send to 
 General Gates, at Providence, for a rein 
 forcement of regular troops, which were 
 despatched, but did not arrive in time. 
 
 After a brisk but ineffectual cannona 
 ding (which was returned with spirit from 
 the fort) had continued day after day for 
 a fortnight, the English colonel 
 vras surprised one morning to 
 discover that his enemies had, during the 
 previous night, suddenly abandoned their 
 camp-works and re-embarked. 
 
 The cause was soon made apparent by 
 the appearance off the bay of Admiral Sir 
 George Collier, with a British squadron 
 of five formidable men-of-war. While Col 
 lier lay at Sandy Hook, he got wind of 
 the Massachusetts expedition, from a com 
 municative paragraph in a Boston news 
 paper, and made all haste to the rescue 
 of the Penobscot fort. The American ves 
 sels, under Commodore Saltonstall, pre 
 sented a threatening aspect on the arri 
 val of Sir George. They were " drawn 
 up seemingly with the view of disputing 
 the passage. Their resolution, however, 
 soon failed, and an ignominious flight took 
 place."* Two of the largest armed ves 
 sels strove to run out of the bay and get 
 to sea, but were intercepted, when one 
 was taken, and the other, being driven on 
 shore, was blown up by her own crew. 
 
 * Gordon. 
 
714 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 The rest made for the mouth of the Pe- 
 nobscot river, Avhere the sailors and sol 
 diers got ashore and made their escape 
 by land, abandoning their vessels to the 
 enemy. The fugitives had a weary jour 
 ney before them, being forced to make 
 their way to their homes for a hundred 
 miles through the forest-wilderness of 
 Maine and New Hampshire, and" did not 
 reach Boston until the latter part of Sep 
 tember. Many perished from hunger and 
 fatigue, in the attempt. Neither general 
 nor commodore escaped the severe re 
 bukes of their state and fellow-citizens for 
 the ignominious result of the great Mas 
 sachusetts expedition against the enemy 
 at Penobscot. 
 
 Let us now record events at the South, 
 where the British seemed disposed to car 
 ry on the war. The French fleet, after 
 being thoroughly refitted at Boston, had 
 sailed for the West Indies, where Count 
 d Estaing achieved some small triumphs. 
 As the hurricane-months were approach 
 ing, and an intermission of active opera 
 tions in the tropical seas must occur, the 
 Americans in the southern states deter 
 mined to invoke the aid of the French 
 admiral. Governor Rutledge, of South 
 Carolina, and General Lincoln, in com 
 mand at Charleston, with the concurrence 
 of the French consul in that city, wrote 
 to D Estaing an earnest appeal, which was 
 immediately responded to by his setting 
 sail with his whole fleet for the American 
 coast. 
 
 The French admiral, with, his formida 
 ble fleet of twenty-four ships-of-the-line, 
 fourteen frigates, and a flock of small craft, 
 and having on board a land-force of six 
 
 thousand men, appeared so sud- 
 
 Sept, 1, 
 
 denly off the coast of Georgia, 
 that the British were completely taken 
 by surprise. The Experiment, of fifty guns, 
 under the command of Sir James Wallace, 
 together with three frigates, were at once 
 captured, and the rest of the squadron on 
 that station was only saved by running 
 up the Savannah river. General Prevost, 
 who held possession of the town with a 
 small British force, was in great anxiety 
 about its safety, and immediately ordered 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Conger, at Sunbury, 
 andLieutenant-ColonelMaitland,whowas 
 stationed at Beaufort, in South Carolina, 
 with a considerable number of troops, to 
 march with all despatch to his aid. 
 
 Count d Estaing, in the meantime, had 
 met Governor Rutledge and General Lin 
 coln at Charleston, and with them formed 
 a plan for wresting Savannah from the 
 British. While the admiral sailed to join 
 his fleet, Lincoln pushed on by land ; and 
 Rutledge promptly seconded the objects 
 of both, by obtaining at Charleston boats 
 of light draught, to aid the former in 
 landing his troops, and enrolling the mi 
 litia of South Carolina, and marching him 
 self at their head to reinforce the latter. 
 
 The admiral was the first to arrive, and, 
 immediately after landing his troops at 
 Beaulieu, he marched toward Savannah, 
 
 and summoned the British gar- 
 
 , . /7 , Sept, 13. 
 
 nson to surrender to the arms of 
 
 the king of France. Lincoln and Rutledge 
 soon followed, and heard with no little 
 vexation of the count s hasty proceed 
 ings, and his eagerness to monopolize for 
 his own sovereign the expected honors. 
 General Lincoln, reminding his French 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] D ESTAING AND LINCOLN BESIEGE SAVANNAH. 
 
 ally that the United States claimed some 
 consideration in the affair, the count was 
 prevailed on, after a little angry alterca 
 tion, so far to modify his future action as 
 to acknowledge the Americans as a party 
 concerned. The combined forces thence 
 forth acted with amiable co-operation. 
 
 The British general, on receiving the 
 summons of D Estaing to surrender, asked 
 for a delay of twenty-four hours, to con 
 sider the demand. This the courteous 
 and imprudently self-confident French 
 man granted. Prevost had been joined 
 by Conger from Sunbury, but was still 
 waiting with anxiety for the accession of 
 Maitland s veteran troops from Beaufort. 
 Having gained time by this ruse, the Brit 
 ish general confidently relied upon the 
 arrival of the spirited Maitland, and in the 
 meantime continued his preparations for 
 defence. He had every soldier, citizen, 
 and negro, whom he could muster, busy 
 at the works, in which he was greatly aid 
 ed by Captain Henry, in command of the 
 small naval force which had fled up the 
 river on the approach of the French fleet. 
 The guns from most of the vessels were 
 landed and mounted on the batteries, and 
 the sailors and marines sent ashore to 
 work them and reinforce the garrison. 
 One brig, however, was allowed to retain 
 her guns, and was anchored above Sa 
 vannah, so as to cover the right of the 
 British lines. Several vessels were sunk 
 across the channel below the town, in or 
 der to prevent the nearer approach of the 
 French fleet; and others in like manner 
 above, where a boom was thrown across 
 the river, to hinder all attempts by water 
 in that direction. 
 
 The welcome Maitland arrived in time. 
 Great were the obstacles which he had to 
 encounter. Being cut off by the French 
 fleet from the customary route to Savan 
 nah, he w r as obliged to take one which led 
 him over land and water, through deep 
 creeks and marshes, where his soldiers 
 were forced to drag their boats. With 
 all these difficulties, Maitland, though ill 
 with a bilious fever, made his way to the 
 Savannah river, where, embark ing in boats 
 above the anchorage, he entered the towr 
 before the expiration of the truce. His 
 arrival " diffused universal joy, not only 
 because he added one third to the number 
 of the garrison, and that too in troops of 
 the best quality, but because he added 
 himself, always the source of comfort 
 where danger reigned."* 
 
 His purpose gained by the truce, the 
 British general now confidently answered 
 D Estaing s summons by declaring that 
 he should defend himself to the last ex 
 tremity. The allies, having coni- 
 
 /., . Sept, 23, 
 
 pleted their preparations, broke 
 
 ground for the siege, and pushed their 
 approaches with the greatest diligence, 
 so that in twelve days fifty-three pieces 
 of battering-cannon and fourteen mortars 
 were mounted. They now opened their 
 fire, and with such terrible effect 
 upon the town, that General Pre 
 vost sent out a flag, with the request that 
 the aged, the women, and the children, 
 might be allowed to remove to a place 
 of safety. This was, however, refused by 
 the confederate commanders, probably on 
 the ground that their absence would pro- 
 
 * Henry Lee, who is always as candid as an historian ai 
 lie was brave as a soldier. 
 
 Oct, 4, 
 
716 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART n 
 
 tract the resistance of the garrison ; al 
 though, accord ic g to Lee, the request was 
 sustained by the claims of humanity, and 
 if granted would have tended in no way 
 to the benefit of the besieged or the in 
 jury of the besiegers. 
 
 The British force was comparatively 
 small, amounting to less than three thou 
 sand men, even including Maitland s eight 
 hundred veterans. When D Estaing had 
 first sent in his summons, Prevost had 
 hardly a dozen guns mounted ; but, by j 
 immense exertions, he had succeeded, du 
 ring the protracted operations of the be 
 siegers, in mounting no less than a hun 
 dred cannon of all kinds and calibres. 
 The British engineer, MoncriefF, was a, 
 marvel of energy, and full of resource. 
 He with great ingenuity strengthened all 
 the weak parts of the town with impale 
 ments, traverses, abattis, and redoubts, and 
 in their construction availed himself free 
 ly of the native palmetto, which, from the 
 spongy nature of the wood, receives a ball 
 without a shock or a splinter. The in 
 terstices of the framework formed by the 
 trees were filled in with mud and sand. 
 
 A deep morass and the river gave se 
 curity to two sides of Savannah. Fields 
 surrounded the other parts of the town. 
 Here the allies were approaching, and 
 here were erected the enemy s defences. 
 So well prepared had the besieged now 
 become, that they eagerly wished their 
 works might be assaulted, for their fate 
 would otherwise be certain in time, un 
 less relieved by a British fleet., They ac 
 cordingly did not waste their strength 
 by attempts to impede the advances of 
 the allies ; and only made two cautious 
 
 sorties, more with a view to provoke as 
 sault than to strike a blow. 
 
 General Prevost calculated that the 
 French would resolve upon storming his 
 works, knowing the danger they would 
 consider themselves exposed to from the 
 approaching autumnal gales, besides the 
 chance of the arrival of a British fleet. 
 "He also counted upon the impatient 
 temper of the French, identified in the 
 character of their commander, not doubt 
 ing," says Henry Lee, "from his being 
 our voluntary assistant, he would take 
 his measures from and for himself. Lin 
 coln s Avisdom, Lincoln s patience, Lin 
 coln s counsel, would be very limited in 
 its effect." 
 
 The calculation of the British general 
 was well founded. D Estaing became im 
 patient, for he had already been delayed 
 a month by an enterprise which he had 
 been led to believe, when his aid was so 
 licited, could be readily accomplished in 
 ten days. His officers were still more im 
 patient than himself; and, being anxious 
 for the safety of the fleet which they 
 thought was imperilled by the approach 
 of the stormy season, and the probable 
 arrival of a British naval armament 
 they remonstrated against further delay. 
 The count accordingly declared to Gen 
 eral Lincoln that Savannah must be forth 
 with stormed, or the siege raised. 
 
 The cautious American leader would 
 have continued his slow but sure system ; 
 nevertheless, rather than abandon the 
 enterprise, he consented to the hazardous 
 expedient of a storm. The 9th of Octo 
 ber was the time appointed ; and when 
 the day dawned, the allied troops moved 
 
REVOLUTIONAKY.] THE ASSAULT AND REPULSE. DEATH OF PULASKT. 
 
 717 
 
 to the assault. The chief point of attack, 
 which was supposed to be the most vul 
 nerable, was on the right of the enemy, 
 where Prevost, aware of its weakness, had 
 posted his choicest troops, under the com 
 mand of the gallant Maitland. 
 
 The allied forces were divided 
 Oct. 9, . 
 
 into three columns. l\vo, com 
 posed of three thousand live hundred 
 French troops and six hundred continen 
 tals, were to make the main assault, on 
 the right ; while the third, chiefly militia, 
 was to move upon the British centre and 
 left, to create if possible-a division of at 
 tention in that direction, or to act in re 
 serve. The first column, headed by D Es 
 taing and Lincoln jointly, led the attack ; 
 and the second, under Count Dillon, was 
 directed to follow. The approach to the 
 right of the enemy s works was along 
 some sunken ground, by which the ad 
 vance could be made almost to the ditch 
 without exposure to fire. Along this con 
 cealed way D Estaing and Lincoln now 
 pushed on, and, aided by the darkness of 
 the early morning, got close to the re 
 doubts unobserved. The assailants. ad 
 vanced gallantly, but were met by a heavy 
 and well-directed fire from the batteries 
 in their front, and iralled in their flank bv 
 
 o / 
 
 a sharp cannonade from the British armed 
 brig in the river. 
 
 The first fire from the works was ter 
 ribly fatal, and thinned the ranks of the 
 allies ; but they pushed forward resolute 
 ly, and, forcing the abaUis there in ad 
 vance, succeeded in planting a French 
 and an American standard on the para 
 pet. Before their comrades could come 
 to their support, however, the English, 
 
 strengthened at the point of attack by a 
 reserve force, came up impetuously, and, 
 tearing away the defiant standards, drove 
 back the assailants with their bayonets. 
 
 Count Dillon, in the meanwhile, had 
 lost his way, in consequence of the dark 
 ness of the morning, and thus failing to 
 bring his column up in time, weakened 
 the force of the assault. To this misfor 
 tune was added that of the death of the 
 brave Count Pulaski, at the head of his 
 troop of two hundred horsemen, while at 
 tempting to force his way into the rear 
 of the town. On his fall, his men retreat 
 ed, and an effort was thus arrested which 
 might have changed the issue of the day. 
 The body and the banner of the gallant 
 Pole were borne away by his faithful aid, 
 Count Litomiski. 
 
 Although the French and Carolina* 
 standards had thus been. torn down, yet 
 important breaches had been made, and 
 another assault promised a successful re 
 sult ; but D Estaing perversely refused to 
 renew the attack. The indignant Lin 
 coln concealed his wrath, and, being too 
 weak to resume the siege alone by regu 
 lar approaches, he at length consented to 
 abandon it. The siege was raised just as 
 victory lay within the grasp of the allies. 
 Thus a second time did the French admi 
 ral bitterly disappoint the just hopes of 
 the Americans. 
 
 After a struggle which had lasted for 
 nearly an hour, the allied commanders 
 
 * It was a point of honor that these colors should not ho 
 lost. Lieutenant Gray was mortally wounded in attempting 
 to remove them. Jasper, the brave man who replanted the 
 crescent flag at Fort Moultrie in 1776, hore them back from 
 the bloody heights and delivered them in safety to his com 
 rades, but lost his life in the chivalrous act, receiving a mor 
 tal wound, from which he died soon after. SIMMS. 
 
718 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 drew off their troops, without an attempt 
 on the part of the British to harass them 
 in their retreat, beyond firing a few shots 
 from their cannon. 
 
 The loss of the allies was heavy. The 
 French killed and wounded amounted to 
 seven hundred men ; the American reg 
 ulars to two hundred and forty, and the 
 Charleston auxiliaries to seven. D Es- 
 taing, who, with Lincoln, braved every 
 danger, was slightly wounded. The ene 
 my, being well protected by their works, 
 lost only one hundred and twenty killed 
 and wounded. Their only officer killed 
 was Captain Tarves, of the provincials or 
 loyalists, who fell dead at the gate of the 
 redoubt, with his sword thrust into the 
 body of the third one of the assailants 
 whom he had slain. A few days after 
 the struggle, Colonel Maitland died of 
 the fever from which he had suffered ever 
 since leaving Beaufort. Friend and foe 
 alike spoke with admiration of his gal 
 lantry. 
 
 In about ten days after the disastrous 
 assault upon Savannah, Count d Estaing 
 re-embarked his troops and sailed away 
 with his ships. They had hardly got to 
 sea, however, when the whole fleet w r as 
 scattered by a gale. The count, who had 
 met with an almost unbroken succession 
 of reverses from his first arrival on the 
 coast, soon took his farewell of the Amer 
 ican continent, and returned to France. 
 Lincoln s militia, almost to a man, went 
 back to their homes ; and the commander 
 himself, left with a small force of regulars, 
 marched into South Carolina and resumed 
 his post at Charleston. 
 
 During the siege of Savannah, a clever 
 
 ruse was executed by Colonel John White, 
 of the Georgia line A hundred British 
 were posted, under Captain French, near 
 the Ogechee. Five small English vessels, 
 fourof which were armed, with theircrews 
 (amounting in all to about forty men), lay 
 at anchor in the river. White determined, 
 with five other persons, one of whom was 
 his servant, to carry off the whole, soldiers 
 and arms, sailors and shipping. The colo 
 nel and his party accordingly lighted up 
 a series of fires not far from the enemy, 
 to impress them with an idea that there 
 was a large encampment in their neigh 
 borhood, and then boldly summoned Cap 
 tain French to surrender; threatening, if 
 he failed to comply instantaneously, to 
 cut to pieces his whole force ! The cap 
 tain, completely deceived, did not hesi 
 tate ; and thus a hundred and forty men, 
 a hundred and thirty stand of arms, and 
 five British vessels, were delivered to the 
 American colonel and his six associates. 
 The prisoners were safely conducted by 
 three of the captors for twenty-five miles 
 to an American post. 
 
 Thus ended the southern campaign of 
 1779. The most gloomy apprehensions 
 respecting their country took possession 
 of the southern people.* Still, although 
 so frequently victorious, the British could 
 boast of little material advantage from 
 their conquests. After overrunning the 
 whole state of Georgia, they were now 
 reduced to the limits of Savannah. Hav 
 ing been deceived in their reliance upon 
 the co-operation of the tories, they could 
 only secure what they were able to hold 
 by military possession. 
 
 * Ramsay. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE AMERICAN CAMP AT MORRISTOWN. 
 
 719 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXI. 
 
 Winter-Quarters at Morristown. A Severe Winter. A Tremendous Snow-Storm. Suffering. Wants. No Supplies 
 No Money. Valueless Paper. Clamorous Soldiers. Trials of Washington. An Incapable Army. A Winter 
 Enterprise. A Sleigh-Ride. Failure of Lord Stirling. Successes of the Enemy. The Neutral Ground. Sir Henry 
 Clinton moves to the South. The British Fleet scattered. Disembarkation near Charleston. Slight Opposition. 
 Deliberate Operations. Colonel Tarleton. His Life and Character. General Lincoln at Charleston. Spirit of the 
 Inhabitants. The Fortifications. Description. The American Squadron. The Disposition of the Enemy s Ships. 
 Sir Henry Clinton and his Parallels. Arrival of Reinforcements. Governor Rutledge astir. Tarleton leading a 
 Charge. A Run across the Country. A Dragonade. The British surround Charleston. The Country scoured. 
 An Offer of Surrender. It is refused. Fire opened. The Last Blow. Surrender of Charleston. Losses. Terms 
 
 1780, 
 
 THE heights of Morristown had 
 been selected by Washington for 
 the winter-quarters of his army, where the 
 troops were now engaged in constructing 
 log-huts, as before in Valley Forge. The 
 winter opened with great severity, and, 
 while the men were still in tents, the snow 
 fell until it was nearly six feet in depth 
 upon the ground ! 
 
 " The weather for several days," writes 
 a suffering campaigner, " has been re 
 markably cold and stormy. On the 3d 
 of January, we experienced one of the 
 most tremendous snow-storms ever re 
 membered ; no man could endure its vio 
 lence many minutes without danger of his 
 life. Several marquees were torn asun 
 der, and blown over the officers heads in 
 the night; and some of the soldiers were 
 actually covered while in their tents, and 
 buried like sheep under the snow My 
 comrades and myself were roused from 
 sleep by the calls of some officers for as 
 sistance : their marquee had blown down, 
 and they were almost smothered in the 
 storm before they could reach our mar 
 quee, only a few yards, and their blankets 
 
 and baggage were nearly buried in the 
 snow. *We are greatly favored in having 
 a supply of straw for bedding; over this 
 we spread all our blankets, and with our 
 clothes and large fires at our feet, while 
 four or five are crowded together, pre 
 serve ourselves from freezing. But the 
 sufferings of the poor soldiers can scarce 
 ly be described. While on duty, they are 
 unavoidably exposed to all the inclemen 
 cy of storms and severe cold ; at night, 
 they now have a bod of straw on the 
 ground, and a single blanket to each 
 man. They are badly clad, and some are 
 destitute of shoes. We have contrived 
 a kind of stone chimney outside, and an 
 opening at one end of our tent gives us 
 the benefit of the fire within. The snow 
 is now from four to six feet deep, which 
 so obstructs the roads as to prevent out 
 receiving a supply of provisions. 
 
 " For the last ten days, we have re 
 ceived but two pounds of meat a man ; 
 and we are frequently for six or eight 
 days entirely destitute of meat, and then 
 as long without bread. The consequence 
 is, the soldiers are so enfeebled from him- 
 
720 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 ["PART n. 
 
 ger and cold as to be almost unable to 
 perform their military duty, or labor in 
 constructing their huts."* 
 
 The commissariat department was, as 
 usual, badly managed, and the financial 
 embarrassment of the country increased 
 the difficulty of obtaining supplies. The 
 continental money had so depreciated, 
 that a pair of shoes could not be purchased 
 for less than jive hundred dollars in the cur 
 rency which Congress was vainly striving 
 to force upon the acceptance of the peo 
 ple. With no supplies, and with a treas 
 ury-only filled with valueless paper, the 
 army was reduced almost to a state of 
 starvation. The troops were always on 
 short allowance of food, sometimes with 
 out meat, sometimes without bread, and 
 not seldom destitute of both. Under such 
 trials, the soldiers conducted themselves 
 so well, that they won from Washington 
 these words of praise : " They have borne 
 their sufferings with a patience that mer 
 its the approbation and ought to excite 
 the sympathy of their countrymen." 
 
 That men thus half starved and badly 
 clothed, however, during the rigor of the 
 coldest of winters, should occasionally be 
 come clamorous, riotous, and even muti 
 nous, was naturally to be expected. It 
 was the severest of all trials to the forti 
 tude of Washington when he was obliged 
 to enforce discipline in a camp where 
 there was so much temptation to irregu 
 larity. He was, nevertheless, inflexible 
 in his purpose of preserving order among 
 his troops, and plunderers as well as mu 
 tineers were punished with all the sever 
 ity of military law. The former were 
 
 * Timelier. 
 
 brought to the gallows, and the latter shot 
 down in the ranks. 
 
 By urgent appeals to the governors of 
 Pennsylvania and New Jersey, and forced 
 contributions from the inhabitants of the 
 latter, Washington was finally enabled tc 
 obtain some alleviation to the sufferine-a 
 
 O 
 
 of his troops. His army, however, was 
 never in a condition, during that winter, 
 to be of effective service. The number 
 of soldiers was hardly ten thousand, and 
 Washington considered these barely able 
 to defend their encampment, and much 
 less fit to carry on offensive operations. 
 The excessive vigor of the winter had, by 
 freezing over the rivers and the bay of 
 New York, offered an occasion for attack 
 upon the enemy, which it was desirable 
 to improve, but which the state of the 
 army rendered almost impossible. 
 
 " Circumstanced as things are men 
 half starved, imperfectly clothed, riotous, 
 and robbing the country-people of their 
 subsistence from sheer necessity I think 
 it scarcely possible to embrace any mo- 
 ment,howeverfavorable in other respects, 
 for visiting the enemy on Staten island ; 
 and yet, if this frost should have made a 
 firm and solid bridge between them and 
 us, I should be unwilling, indeed I can 
 not relinquish the idea of attempting it." 
 Thus wrote Washington, at the 
 opening of the j^ear; and, em 
 barrassed as he was, he succeeded, a few 
 days subsequently, in arranging an expe 
 dition against the British troops posted 
 on Staten island. 
 
 Lord Stirling was chosen to conduct 
 the enterprise, and he set out from the 
 American camp with twenty-five hundred 
 
 Jau, 9, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE BRITISH AT THE SOUTH. 
 
 721 
 
 troops, conveyed in five hundred sleighs. 
 Having reached Dehart s point, 
 he crossed the ice, and arrived 
 early in the morning at Staten island. 
 On approaching the British forts, Lord 
 Stirling found the enemy (who had re 
 ceived timely intelligence of the expedi 
 tion) ready to receive him. It was also 
 discovered that the channel, which it was 
 supposed had been closed by the ice, was 
 still open to New York, whence reinforce 
 ments had reached the island. The at 
 tempt on the enemy s forts was therefore 
 abandoned, and the earl inarched back to 
 Elizabethtown, skirmishing during his re 
 treat with the British in pursuit. Two 
 or three were killed on each side, and a 
 few prisoners were carried away by the 
 Americans. All suffered greatly from the 
 excessive cold, and nearly five hundred 
 men were frost-bitten. 
 
 A few days afterward, General Knyp- 
 hausen ordered the British at Staten -isl 
 and to make in their turn an incursion 
 into New Jersey, in retaliation for the at 
 tempt of Earl Stirling. They succeeded 
 in surprising the picket-guard at Eliza 
 bethtown, wantonly burning the Presby 
 terian church, and carrying off a major 
 and forty privates. 
 
 Another successful attempt was made 
 by the British outposts upon " Young s 
 house," near White Plains, garrisoned by 
 three hundred Americans. This post was 
 on "The Neutral Ground" ns it was called, 
 embracing almost the whole of Westches- 
 ter county, and had been established to 
 obstruct the supplies which the enemy in 
 Mew- York city drew from the country 
 
 The British 
 9i 
 
 bordering on the Hudson. 
 
 had been long provoked by the daring of 
 the "rebels" at Young s house, and now 
 determined to root them out. A large 
 force, consisting of British guards, Hes 
 sians, and yagers, started out from Kings- 
 bridge in sleighs, in the night, in order to 
 surprise the post. The snow, however, 
 was so deep, that the soldiers were forced 
 to abandon the sleighs and artillery, and 
 trudge on foot. The sun was up before 
 they arrived at Young s house, and the 
 Americans were on their guard ; but the 
 British, notwithstanding, pushed forward 
 to the attack, and, after a spirited resist 
 ance, succeeded in capturing the garrison. 
 Having secured ninety prisoners (among 
 whom were many of the yeomanry of 
 the country), and burnt the house, the 
 enemy returned to their lines, boasting 
 that they had lost but two men killed and 
 twenty-three wounded. Their prisoners 
 were thrown into loathsome jails in New 
 York. 
 
 The British, however, had concentrated 
 their energies in an expedition against 
 the southern states. Sir Henry Clinton, 
 finding that Count d Estaing had sailed 
 away from the American coast with his 
 fleet, and that New York could be left in 
 security with but a small number of Hes 
 sian and British troops under the general 
 command of the vigilant Knyphausen, re 
 solved to proceed to South Carolina., and 
 there begin a campaign. On the arrival 
 of Admiral Arbuthnot with his ships, he 
 had the means of transport, and a safe 
 
 convoy : and he accordingly set 
 
 v Dec, 26, 
 
 sail from New lork with about 
 
 live thousand of his choicest troops and 
 two thousand marines. 
 
722 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 The fleet, however, had hardly got to 
 sea, when a long and terrible storm scat 
 tered the vessels, and drove them far out 
 of their course. Some of the transports 
 were taken by the American privateers ; 
 others were lost, among which was one, 
 loaded with ordnance and heavy siege- 
 trains, that foundered ; and all were more 
 or less damaged. Nearly all the horses 
 belonging to the artillery and to Colonel 
 Tarleton s cavalry-legion died during the 
 voyage. It was not until the close of 
 January, that Sir Henry Clinton arrived 
 in Tybee bay, on the Georgia coast, with 
 the crippled remnant of the fleet. The 
 damaged ships having been refitted, the 
 squadron sailed for North Edisto sound, 
 in South Carolina, where it arrived on the 
 10 th of February. On the following day 
 the troops were disembarked on 
 John s island, within thirty miles 
 of Charleston. Here the British general 
 was reinforced by twelve hundred men, 
 sent by Prevost from Savannah. 
 
 Clinton proceeded with great deliber 
 ation in his movements. After a long 
 
 o 
 
 delay, he crossed the Ashley riv- 
 er on the south, and landed on 
 Charleston neck. He had been engaged 
 in the meantime fortifying the interme 
 diate posts, in order to secure a commu 
 nication with Admiral Arbuthnot s fleet, 
 and in obtaining horses for his artillery, 
 as well as to remount the dragoons of 
 Tnrleton, who had been dismounted by 
 the disastrous effects of the voyage from 
 New York. , 
 
 The British commander, however, did 
 not succeed in making good his position 
 without some opposition, though slight. 
 
 Feb. 11, 
 
 When his van had reached the banks of 
 the Ashley, Colonel William Washington, 
 in command of a troop of American CLV 
 airy, made a successful attack upon Tarle 
 ton s newly-mounted dragoons, and car 
 ried off a few prisoners, among whom was 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Hamilton, of the Roy 
 al regiment of North Carolina. Again, 
 after passing the river, the British van 
 was gallantly attacked by Lieutenant- 
 Colonel James, in command of a corps of 
 lightrinfantry ; and the earl of Caithness, 
 aid-de-camp of Clinton, was wounded in 
 the skirmish. 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Tarleton s activity 
 in the southern campaign has made him 
 memorable. BANASTRE TAREETON was a 
 thorough soldier, who allowed no tender 
 sentiment of humanity to soften the hard 
 teachings of a military life. His personal 
 appearance accorded with his character. 
 He was rather below the middle stature, 
 strong and heavily made, with large, mus 
 cular legs, but was uncommonly active. 
 His complexion was dark, and his eye 
 small, black, and piercing.* His early 
 years had been spent in the study of law, 
 but his talents were evidently better suit 
 ed for the tragic conflicts of war than for 
 the bloodless wrangling of the bar; and 
 when Tarleton entered the army, he soon 
 proved himself equal to its most cruel 
 demands iipon his naturally severe dis 
 position. At about the age of twenty-six. 
 he came to America with Lord Cornwal- 
 lis, and was highly valued by that noble 
 man as the surest reliance in his most 
 merciless enterprises. Tarleton frankly 
 declared that " severity alone could otfect 
 
 * Watson. 
 
KK VOLUTION ART, 
 
 TARLETON. CHARLESTON AND ITS DEFENCES. 
 
 723 
 
 the establishment of regal authority in 
 America," and did not fail to carry out 
 fully the opinion which he so freely pro 
 fessed. In the course of the southern 
 campaign we shall have occasion to re 
 cord the effects of the cruel energies of 
 this unscrupulous soldier, who had now 
 succeeded, by his forays on the surround 
 ing plantations, in mounting himself and 
 his dragoons. 
 
 General Lincoln held Charleston with 
 only fifteen hundred men, but was ex 
 pecting the arrival of the southern regi 
 ments sent by Washington from his camp 
 at Morristown. In the meantime, though 
 somewhat doubtful of the policy which 
 was urged upon him by the inhabitants, 
 of attempting to hold the city, Lincoln 
 was making every effort to strengthen 
 its defences, in which he was seconded 
 by the spirited co-operation of Governor 
 Rutledge, who had been invested by the 
 legislature of the state with every power 
 but that of life and death. 
 
 Charleston stands on the southern ex 
 tremity of a short and narrow neck of 
 land, with the Cooper river on the east 
 and the Ashley on the west. The bay 
 and harbor is formed by the junction of 
 the two streams, which, MS they flow to 
 gether to the sea, bend in their curves 
 among a number of fertile islands, on one 
 of which (Sullivan s) was Fort Moultrie, 
 under the command of Lieutenant-Colo 
 nel Pinckney, and on another (James s) 
 the ruins of Fort Johnson. In addition 
 to these defences seaward, a small Ameri 
 can squadron, commanded by Commodore 
 Whipple consisting of nine vessels, of 
 which the largest mounted only forty- 
 
 four guns was at anchor in the bay. 
 With the forts, the supposed difficulty of 
 large ships-of-war in passing the bank of 
 sand, or bar as it is called, and the Ameri 
 can squadron to dispute the passage, the 
 city was considered tolerably secure tow 
 ard the sea. 
 
 Every effort was now made to defend 
 the approaches by land. Governor Rut- 
 ledge, in the exercise of his ample pow 
 ers, called out the militia, and ordered 
 three hundred negroes from the planta 
 tions to labor upon the works. Soon a 
 canal was dug in the rear of the town, 
 from the marshy borders of one river to 
 those of the other. Beyond the canal 
 were two rows of deeply-laid abattis, and 
 a double picketed ditch ; while within, 
 toward the main works, deep holes were 
 dug, to interrupt the inarch of the enemy, 
 strong redoubts and batteries were raised 
 on the right and left, and in the centre 
 was an enclosed housework of masonry, 
 forming a kind of citadel. Other works 
 were erected at every point where a land 
 ing was practicable. 
 
 The great object of the American squad 
 ron was, to prevent the British fleet from 
 passing the bar; but Commodore Whipple 
 found that, in consequence of the shallow- 
 ness of the water, he could not anchor 
 near enough to dispute the passage. The 
 ships were accordingly moored abreast of 
 Fort Moultrie, by co-operation with which 
 it was hoped effectual opposition might 
 be offered to the advance of the -enemy s 
 fleet. 
 
 The British admiral lay with his ships 
 lightened of their guns outside of the bar 
 for two weeks, waiting for wind and tide ; 
 
724 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [>AKT IT. 
 
 War, 25, 
 
 April 9, 
 
 but he finally crossed it without 
 the least difficulty, and came to 
 anchor in Five-Fathom hole, the previous 
 station of the American squadron. Com 
 modore Whipple now moved bis vessels 
 a second time ; and, fearing lest the Brit 
 ish would enter Cooper river, where they 
 mi i^ht bring: their guns to bear with effect 
 
 o o o 
 
 upon the town, and cut off the only com 
 munication of the garrison with the coun 
 try, he anticipated them by placing his 
 own squadron in that position. Here, af 
 ter landing his guns, to assist in the de 
 fence of the town, he sunk most of his 
 vessels, in order to obstruct the channel 
 of the river. 
 
 Admiral Arbuthnot weighed 
 anchor again, and, with a strong 
 southerly wind and on the flood of the tide, 
 passed Fort Moultrie, in spite of the op 
 position of Colonel Pinckney and his gar 
 rison; only twenty-seven men were killed 
 or \voimded, as the admiral triumphant 
 ly passed and anchored his eight men-of- 
 war and two transports within the harbor, 
 near the ruins of Fort Johnson, and out 
 of reach of all damage from the American 
 batteries. The British ships, however, 
 sustained considerable damage in passing 
 the fort. The fore-topmast of the Rich 
 mond was shot away, and the Acetus run 
 aground near Haddrell s point, and was 
 destroyed by her crew, under a heavy fire 
 from two fieldpieces, commanded by Colo 
 nel Gadsden; the crew escaped in boats. 
 " Fort Moultrie being now of less use 
 than the men who manned ,it, they were 
 in great part withdrawn, and it soon fell 
 into the hands of the enemy. Colonel 
 Pinckney s force, together with that which 
 
 had served to man the small fleet of the 
 Americans, was transferred to the city 
 where they helped to swell the inconsid 
 erable numbers of the garrison. This 
 force, at no time, amounted to four thou 
 sand men ; they were required to defend 
 an extent of works which could not be 
 well manned by less than ten thousand : 
 yet even for this small army a sufficient 
 quantity of provisions had not been fur 
 nished, and, before the siege was over, the 
 citizens were suffering from starvation."* 
 
 On the day the British admiral made 
 his successful advance into the harbor, 
 Sir Henry Clinton, who was proceeding 
 according to all the deliberate formalities 
 of a scientific siege, had completed his 
 first parallel. He now demanded the sur 
 render of the town. General Lincoln re 
 plied : "Sixty days have been past since 
 it has been known that your intentions 
 against the town were hostile, in which 
 time has been afforded to abandon it ; 
 but duty and inclination point to the pro 
 priety of supporting it to the last ex 
 tremity." The British commander now 
 rejoined with a severe cannonade, which 
 was kept up almost without intermission. 
 
 The expected reinforcements sent by 
 Washington at length arrived ; and Brig 
 adier-General Woodford, having marched 
 five hundred miles in twenty-eight days, 
 with seven hundred men of the Virginia 
 
 o 
 
 line, was gladly welcomed as he entered 
 Charleston. General Lincoln had now 
 only one communication open with the 
 country by which to receive reinforce 
 ments or supplies; this was by the Coop 
 er river, on his left, and on the east of 
 
 * Siinms. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] TARLETON SURPRISES COLONEL WASHINGTON. 
 
 725 
 
 the beleagured city. He strove to secure 
 it. Governor Rutledge, with one half of 
 the executive council, had gone out, leav 
 ing the other half and the lieutenant-gov 
 ernor to perform all the civic functions 
 in his absence, and was now doing his 
 best to stir up the militia to the defence 
 of the country between the Santee and 
 Cooper rivers, through which was the only 
 communication to the besieged in Charles 
 ton. 
 
 Rutledge s success was meager in com 
 parison with the fullness of his dictato 
 rial powers, and he was only able to en 
 roll a small number of militia, which he 
 divided into two portions, stationing one 
 between the Cooper and the Santee, and 
 the other at the ferry on the latter river. 
 Lincoln had despatched Brigadier-Gen 
 eral linger, with some militia, and Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Washington s corps of cav 
 alry, to Monk s Corner, thirty miles above 
 Charleston, and near the head-waters of 
 the Cooper river. A small force was also 
 sent to throw up works on the Wando, a 
 branch of the Cooper, nine miles above 
 the town, and to Lanprier s Point, so as 
 to guard the pass in that direction. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton went on perseve- 
 ringly with his parallels, and, while en 
 gaged upon the second, sent out Lieuten 
 ant-Colonel Webster, with fifteen hundred 
 men, to strike at the American posts on 
 the Cooper, and thus complete the inves 
 titure of Charleston. The fierce and en 
 ergetic Tarleton with his dragoons, and 
 the spirited Ferguson, with his rillemen, 
 composed the van of Webster s corps, and 
 to them and their ferocious followers was 
 intrusted the enterprise of attacking by 
 
 April 13. 
 
 surprise the American post at Monk s 
 Corner. 
 
 As Tarleton started out at night on his 
 concealed expedition, he caught 
 sight of a negro, skulking near 
 his van ; and, having seized him, he found 
 upon his person a letter from one of Hu- 
 ger s officers, from which information was 
 obtained about the American position. 
 The negro, moreover, was readily bribed 
 by a piece of gold to shift his service to 
 the British, and he became their guide, 
 leading them through some neglected by 
 paths to the post. The American guards 
 were on the watch a mile in advance of 
 their post, and Colonel Washington had 
 his cavalry-horses all bridled and saddled ; 
 but Tarleton drove in and followed the 
 videttes with such promptitude, that he 
 entered the camp with them. 
 
 The assault was so rapid and impetu 
 ous, that the American cavalry was rout 
 ed without resistance. General linger, 
 Colonel Washington, and most of his 
 corps, saved themselves by pushing their 
 horses across the country, with every foot 
 of which they were familiar. Tarleton 
 and his dragoons showed little mercy ; 
 arid Major Bernie, of Pulaski s legion, who 
 was mangled shockingly, died cursing the 
 
 o o */ o 
 
 British for their barbarity in having re 
 fused quarter after he had surrendered. 
 Four captains, one lieutenant, and two 
 privates, of the Americans, were killed, 
 and some seventeen more wounded or 
 taken prisoners. Nearly two hundred 
 horses, and a large quantity of ammuni 
 tion, baggage, baggage-wagons, and mili 
 tary stores, likewise fell into the hands 
 of the enemy. 
 
726 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_PAKT II. 
 
 Some British dragoons, brutalized by 
 the plentiful supply of ruin which had 
 fallen to them as their share of booty, 
 entered a gentleman s house in the neigh 
 borhood, and attempted to gratify their 
 lusts upon the defenceless women of the 
 family. The ladies, however, succeeded 
 in making their escape, and were protect 
 ed from further violence by the interpo 
 sition of the English officers. The dra 
 goons themselves were arrested and ta 
 ken to Monk s Corner, where Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Patrick Ferguson/ 1 who was as 
 gallant as he was brave, would have put 
 them to instant death. Colonel Webster, 
 however, was opposed to the exercise of 
 such extreme measures, and sent the vil 
 lains, under guard, to the British head 
 quarters, where " I believe," says the Eng 
 lish historian Stedman, " they were after 
 ward tried and whipped." 
 
 Colonel Webster was now enabled to 
 establish a post on the Wando, and thus 
 secure the whole country between that 
 river and the Cooper. General Lincoln 
 learned with dismay of this position, so 
 fatal to his only communication with the 
 country, and determined to attack it ; but 
 a council of war being called, it was de 
 cided that a sufficient force could not be 
 spared for the purpose. Thus this post, 
 held by only six hundred infantry and 
 two hundred and fifty horse, was left un 
 disturbed. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton had now 7 received 
 
 from New York a reinforcement 
 April IS, 
 
 or three thousand troops, under 
 
 * Ferguson was a. spirited officer, and almost as formida 
 ble as Tarlcton in partisan warfare, but freer from the 
 charge of cruelly. He was a famous shot, and was as sure 
 with his rifle as the best of the American marksmen. 
 
 the command of Earl Cornwallis and Lord 
 Rawdon, and was thus enabled to throw 
 a large force on the east side of Cooper 
 river, to complete the work of investing 
 Charleston in that quarter which was be 
 gun by Colonel Webster. As soon as 
 Cornwallis presented himself, the posts at 
 Lanprier s Point and on Wando river were 
 abandoned ; and the British had almost 
 free range of the country, although there 
 was still some show of opposition on the 
 part of a remnant of H tiger s force. 
 
 The American cavalry, after its surprise 
 at Monk s Corner, had withdrawn to the 
 north of the Santee, where Lieutenant- 
 Colonel White took the command. This 
 officer, discovering that Lord Cornwallis 
 extended his fo raging-parties to the south 
 ern banks of the river on which he was 
 encamped, determined to intercept them. 
 Accordingly, upon the first notice of the 
 enemy s approach, White passed the San- 
 tee, struck at the foe, and captured most 
 of the party. He now r retired with his 
 prisoners to Lenud s ferry, where he had 
 ordered boats to be in readiness, and Colo 
 nel Buford, who was stationed on the op 
 posite bank of the river, to be on the 
 alert to cover the transportation of his 
 men. Neither the colonel nor the boats, 
 however, were to be found, and White in- 
 cautiouslv lingered at the place. 
 
 */ O 1 
 
 Tarleton, in the meanwhile, who was 
 scouring the country with his usual activ 
 ity, having learned of White s late success 
 and his present position, made all haste 
 after him. On reaching Lenud s ferry. 
 Tarleton with his dragoons made one of 
 his habitually rapid and impetuous on 
 slaughts, and succeeded in killing and cap- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 SIEGE AND FALL OF CHARLESTON. 
 
 72: 
 
 April 12. 
 
 luring between thirty and forty of the 
 American cavalry. Colonels White, Wash 
 ington, Jamieson, and the rest of the offi 
 cers and men, took to flight, and escaped 
 by swimming the river, or hiding them 
 selves in the swamps. 
 
 Though the lines of Charleston were 
 field-works only, the British commander 
 made his advances with great caution. 
 At the completion of his first parallel, the 
 town was summoned to surren 
 der ; and its defiance was the sig 
 nal for the batteries on both sides to open, 
 which they did with great animation. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton, having completed 
 his second parallel, and entirely invested 
 the town (having cut off the only com 
 munication of the besieged with the coun 
 try), a spirited but ineffectual night-sortie 
 of two hundred men, under Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Henderson, was the last effort of 
 the garrison, when a council of war was 
 
 called by General Lincoln. At 
 April 26, . . 
 
 this time the flesh provisions of 
 
 the city were not sufficient for a week s 
 rations. There was now no hope of de 
 fending the to\vn, and no chance of es 
 cape by retreat. The engineers admitted 
 that the lines could not be maintained 
 ten days longer, and might be carried by 
 assault in ten minutes. There was no 
 prospect of either supplies or reinforce 
 ments. It was therefore determined to 
 make an offer of surrender, on the con 
 dition that the inhabitants should be se 
 cured the safety of their persons and prop 
 erty, and the garrison allowed to continue 
 in arms. 
 
 " General Lincoln," says Sinims, " was 
 disposed to accept Clinton s offer, but he 
 
 was opposed by the citizens, who were 
 required by Clinton to be considered as 
 prisoners on parole." The above offer, 
 made in council, being sent out to the 
 British commander with a flag, it was at 
 once rejected, and the third parallel be 
 gun, answer being returned that hostili 
 ties should be rene\ved at eight o clock in 
 the evening. When that hour arrived, 
 the garrison looked for the most vigorous 
 assault, and prepared, with a melancholy 
 defiance, to meet the assailants at their 
 ruined bulwarks. But an hour elapsed 
 without a gun being fired. Both armies 
 seemed to dread the consequences of an 
 assault, aod to wish for a continuance of 
 
 the truce. At nine in the even- 
 
 xi i p ,i May 6, 
 
 ing, the batteries oi the garrison 
 
 were reopened, and, being answered by 
 those of the British, the fight was resumed 
 with more vigor and execution than had 
 been displayed at any time from the be 
 ginning of the siege.* 
 
 The third parallel having been com 
 pleted, Sir Henry and the British 
 admiral now demanded a surren 
 der for the third time. General Lincoln 
 saw, as before, that there was no hope of 
 resistance, and assented at once to give 
 up his troops; but the inhabitants ear 
 nestly begged him to make an exception 
 in their favor. This exception was made 
 accordingly in his answer, but was de 
 clared inadmissible by the enemy. 
 
 The siege was now renewed. Two 
 hundred heavy cannon and mortars were 
 brought to bear. Ships and galleys, the 
 forts on James s and John s islands, on 
 Wappoo, and the army on the neck, uni- 
 
 * Simms. 
 
728 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 PART It 
 
 Hay 11. 
 
 ted in cne voluminous discharge of iron 
 upon the devoted garrison. Shells and 
 carcasses were constantly thrown into the 
 town, and at one time it was on fire in 
 five different places. 
 
 The batteries of the third par 
 allel were opened, and, under 
 their fire, the works were pushed to the 
 brink of the canal. This was drained by 
 sapping the dam. A double sap was also 
 carried under the abattis, and the enemy, 
 in possession of the outer defences, were 
 close to the main works of the besieged. 
 The fire was constant and severe from the 
 British batteries. The opposing parties 
 were brought within speaking-distance of 
 each other ; and " the rifles of the Hessian 
 yagers," says Simms, " were fired at so 
 short a distance as never to be discharged 
 without effect. The defenders could no 
 longer show themselves above the lines 
 with safety. A hat raised upon a cane 
 was instantly riddled with bullets." 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton was now prepared 
 to strike the decisive blow, and was about 
 to give orders to begin the assault, when 
 at midnight, General Lincoln, seeing that 
 further resistance would be sheer mad 
 ness, called a council of the civil authori 
 ties. The inhabitants of Charleston, fear 
 ful of the approaching horrors, should the 
 city be taken by storm, with one accord 
 begged Lincoln to waive the exception 
 made in their favor, and accept the terms 
 proffered by the enemy. At two o clock 
 in the morning, a proposition was 
 therefore made fof a surrender. 
 The firing then ceased. All the guns 
 were silent at daybreak, and at noon the 
 continental troops marched out and laid 
 
 down their arms. The British command 
 er did not presume upon the advantage 
 at which he now had the town, but hon 
 orably agreed to the terms which had 
 been before proffered and were rejected, 
 Charleston was thus surrendered, on the 
 12th of May, six weeks after Clinton had 
 sat down before it and begun the siege. 
 
 "Lincoln had maintained his post with 
 honor," adds Simms, " if not with success ; 
 had shown himself steadfast and firm, if 
 not brilliant. For nearly three months, 
 with less than four thousand ill-fed, ill-clad, 
 and undisciplined militiamen, he had main 
 tained himself in Avails the lines of which 
 required thrice that number to man them, 
 and had thus long baffled fully twelve 
 thousand of the best troops in the British 
 service, headed by their best generals." 
 
 The enemy had lost seventy killed, and 
 had one hundred and ninety-nine wound 
 ed. The whole loss of the Americans was 
 one hundred and two killed and one hun 
 dred and fifty-seven wounded. Lincoln s 
 force which surrendered amounted to not 
 more than twenty-five hundred ; but the 
 British estimated their prisoners at five 
 thousand in all, as they probably included 
 all the citizens capable of bearing arms. 
 Nearly four hundred pieces of ordnance 
 were given up. The loss of ammunition, 
 stores, and shipping, was likewise heavy, 
 and was greatly deplored throughout the 
 whole country. By the terms of the ca 
 pitulation, the troops of the garrison were 
 permitted to march out to a place desig 
 nated, where they were to deposite their 
 arms. The drums were not to beat a Brit 
 ish march, and the colors were not to be 
 uncased. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 TARLETON IN PURSUIT OF BUFORD. 
 
 729 
 
 CHAPTER LXXX1I. 
 
 Operations of Sir Henry Clinton. Proclamations. Expeditions. Prepress of Earl Cornv/aliis. Tarleton in Pursuit. 
 Speed and Bottom. Colonel Buford surprised. No Quarter. A Bloody Massacre. The British at Camden. Sir 
 Henry Clinton departs for New York. Lord Cornwallis in Command in Carolina. His Lordship as an Administra 
 tor. The Tories suffer. Prostrate Patriotism. Thomas Sumter. Hif Life and Character. Francis Marion. His 
 Life and Character. Pickcns. Guerilla Warfare. Hard Eiders and Good Marksmen. Success of Sumter. The 
 Patriots encouraged. The March of De Kalb. General Gates appointed to the Command at the South. Northern 
 Laurels and Southern Willows. 
 
 1 780, 
 
 AFTER the fall of Charleston, Sir 
 Henry Clinton, in order to confirm 
 his conquest, issued proclamations, prof 
 fering pardon to those who should return 
 to their allegiance to the British crown, 
 and sent out troops to subject those who 
 were still in open resistance. Retaining 
 a small force to hold the town. Clinton 
 despatched the main body of his army, 
 under Lord Cornwallis, toward the fron 
 tiers of South Carolina. One division, 
 under Lieutenant-Colonel Brown, moved 
 up the Savannah, to Augusta ; another, 
 commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Bal- 
 four, marched along the southern banks 
 of the Wateree, to Ninety-Six ; and Earl 
 Cornwallis himself pushed on with the 
 third toward Camden, where Colonel Bu 
 ford, who was on his way to reinforce 
 General Lincoln, had retired on hearing 
 of the surrender of Charleston. 
 
 Augusta and Ninety-Six yielded, on the 
 approach of the British, without a blow. 
 Colonel Buford abandoned Camden, and 
 marched precipitately into North Caroli 
 na, Lord Cornwallis, as he crossed the 
 Santee, having learned of Buford s flight, 
 moved with a portion of his troops to 
 92 
 
 take possession of Camden, and sent his 
 trusty Tarleton in pursuit of the fugitives. 
 This famous colonel of dragoons was at 
 once in his saddle, at the head of his cav 
 alry. His corps had been strengthened 
 by the addition of a hundred mounted in 
 fantry and a three-pounder; but Tarle- 
 ton s impatience would not allow him to 
 wait for these tardy riders : so he spurred 
 on in advance with his hundred and sev 
 enty dragoons. He got so rapidly over 
 the ground, that in fifty-four hours he had 
 made a hundred and five miles, although 
 his Carolina horses were neither remark 
 able for mettle nor high condition. The 
 weather was hot, and some of the animals 
 gave out; but Tarleton always pressed 
 on ahead, followed by those of sufficient 
 speed and bottom to keep up with him. 
 
 When within twenty miles of Buford, 
 who was hastening to form a junction 
 with a force in North Carolina, Tarleton 
 sent one of his best-mounted captains for 
 ward, with a summons to Buford to sur 
 render, while he himself and his troopers 
 galloped close at his heels. 
 
 The captain overtook Buford on the 
 banks of the Wexhaw river, and handed 
 
730 
 
 him Tarleton s summons to surrender, on 
 the same terms as had been granted to 
 the garrison at Charleston, accompanied 
 with this threat, however : " If you are 
 rash enough to reject them, the blood be 
 upon jour head !" Without halting his 
 troops, Buford spoke for a moment with 
 the British captain, and then gave him 
 this brief and emphatic answer: 
 
 " SIR : I reject your proposal, and shall 
 defend myself to the last extremity. 
 
 "ABM. BUFORD. 
 
 " LlKUTKNANT-COLONKL TARLETON, 
 
 " Commander of British Legion." 
 
 The rapid Tarleton was close at hand, 
 and, upon receiving Buford s reply, was 
 
 ready for an onslaught. The hit- 
 May 29, 3 
 
 ter behaved with neither decis 
 ion nor prudence. His rear-guard of a 
 sergeant and four dragoons having fallen, 
 
 O o o 
 
 Buford was thus first apprized of the close 
 approach of the enemy. He had barely 
 time to draw up his men in an open wood, 
 and send his artillery and baggage in ad 
 vance, when Tarleton and his merciless 
 dragoons, with drawn sabres, came down 
 the road with an impetuous swoop. Lit 
 tle resistance was made ; and the Ameri 
 cans, taken so suddenly and surrounded, 
 soon sued for quarter, but no quarter was 
 shown. 
 
 Tarleton, who was foremost in the at 
 tack, at the head of thirty of his trustiest 
 troopers, was dismounted by a chance 
 shot. His dragoons, however, did not lin 
 ger in their barbarous woi;k, but forced 
 their horses on, sabring their unresisting 
 enemy right and left. It soon became a 
 bloody massacre, in which no less than a 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 PART IT. 
 
 hundred and thirteen of the Americans 
 were slaughtered, while a hundred and 
 fifty were, according to Tarleton s own 
 account of the butchery, so badly man 
 gled as to be incapable of removal from 
 the field of action. That the British met 
 with butfeeble resistance, may be inferred 
 from the fact that their loss amounted to 
 only seven killed and twelve wounded. 
 
 Tarleton and his dragoons now rode to 
 Camden, carrying with them fifty-three 
 American prisoners, the few who had been 
 spared in that merciless attack. Lord 
 Cornwallis received his cruel officer with 
 a warm welcome, and bestowed the high 
 est praise upon him for his bloody enter 
 prise. Friend and foe, ho we-ver, have not 
 hesitated to speak of the conduct of Tarle 
 ton as an outrage upon humanity. Even 
 in England, the liberal press and all men 
 of humane views denounced his ferocity ; 
 and his own conscience smote him, if not 
 to repentance, at least to an attempt at 
 justification. He declared that his men, 
 on the one hand, became exasperated to 
 revenge upon supposing, when he was 
 dismounted, that he had been slain ; and 
 that, on the other, his dragoons had been 
 provoked to rage by the firing of the 
 Americans after they had surrendered 
 and begged for quarter. To the errors 
 of Buford may be ascribed the defeat of 
 his party ; but the effect of this wanton 
 massacre was beneficial to the southern 
 country, in rousing a proper spirit of re 
 sentment in the breasts of its defenders. 
 The Americans thenceforth were taught 
 to expect no indulgence from their foes. 
 The name and barbarity of the English 
 cavalry-leader were now synonymous; 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THOMAS SUMTER AND FRANCIS MARION. 
 
 731 
 
 June 5. 
 
 and even his mercy was deemed so piti 
 less, that "Tarleton s quarter" became a 
 proverbial expression for cruelty: and a 
 spirit of revenge, in all subsequent con 
 flicts, gave a keener edge to the military 
 resentments of the people in the south 
 ern states. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton, after his military 
 triumphs., finally believing that he had 
 secured the state of South Carolina in 
 firm allegiance to the throne, embarked 
 at Charleston for New York, with 
 a portion of his troops, leaving 
 Earl Cornwallis in command of four thou 
 sand regulars, to carry the war into North 
 Carolina and Virginia. His lordship, for 
 a time unopposed by any active military 
 hostility, had an opportunity of exercising 
 his talents as a civil administrator. Hav 
 ing left Lord Rawdon in command of the 
 division which Sir Henry had led up the 
 Santee to Camden, he himself proceeded 
 to Charleston, where he was ensured in 
 
 7 o O 
 
 administering the affairs of the state un 
 der its renewed royal government. 
 
 As Cornwallis proposed to make an in 
 cursion into North Carolina as soon as the 
 hot season was over, he was preparing 
 his way by an active correspondence with 
 the royalist inhabitants. He urged upon 
 them to remain patient until he was pre 
 pared to enter their province with his 
 troops. But in the fullness of their loy 
 alty they could not avoid making a pre 
 mature manifestation, and thus brought 
 down upon themselves a crushing blow 
 from the patriots. Some eight hundred, 
 however, of the loyal North-Carolinians, 
 under Colonel Bryan, with a band of reso 
 lute republican militia at their heels, suc 
 
 ceeded in making their escape, though in 
 a sorry plight, to the British post at Che- 
 raw hill. 
 
 Prostrate as South Carolina was, there 
 were still some of her inhabitants who 
 clung resolutely to their arms ; and, al 
 though forced temporarily to leave their 
 own state, they were impatiently wait 
 ing for a favorable opportunity to strike a 
 blow against the invaders of their homes. 
 Among these was THOMAS SUMTER, one of 
 the most gallant of the southern patriots. 
 Though past the meridian of life, such 
 were the fighting qualities and resolute 
 spirit of the man, that he was popularly 
 known as " The Gamecock of Carolina" In 
 his youth he had fought against the Indi 
 ans, and had served as a soldier in Brad- 
 dock s unfortunate campaign. When the 
 Revolutionary War broke out,Sumter was 
 among the earliest in the field, and re 
 ceived the command of the South-Caro 
 lina riflemen, as their lieutenant-colonel. 
 He was a man of inflexible firmness and 
 daring courage. Large, strong, and ac 
 tive, his body was equal to all the trials 
 of endurance to which his enterprising 
 spirit constantly subjected it. " Deter 
 mined to deserve success, he risked his 
 own life and the lives of his associates 
 without reserve. Enchanted with the 
 splendor of victory, he would wade in tor 
 rents of blood to attain it."* He trusted, 
 
 f 
 
 however, more to personal prowess than 
 to military skill. He was far less inclined 
 to plan than to execute, and often under 
 took and succeeded in enterprises which 
 a more prudent officer would never have 
 hazarded. 
 
 * Lee. 
 
732 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IL 
 
 Sumter s home, on the Santee river, 
 had been devastated by the enemy, his 
 house burned to the ground, and his wife 
 and children driven forth without shelter. 
 He now sought refuge in North Carolina, 
 where he soon gathered about him a band 
 of his fellow-exiles, who chose him as their 
 leader, and determined to vindicate the 
 rights of their country and avenge their 
 own wrongs. 
 
 FRANCIS MARION was another of those 
 dauntless partisan leaders, to whose en 
 ergetic courage the Carolinas were in- 
 
 O o 
 
 debted for their final rescue from the 
 thraldom of a triumphant enemy. The 
 youngest son of a wealthy planter, of 
 Huguenot extraction, his youth was en 
 couraged with the prospect of a life of 
 prosperity and ease, when his father be 
 coming impoverished, he was suddenly 
 made conscious that he was to rely upon 
 his own efforts for support. The youth 
 did not hesitate, but promptly sought em 
 ployment as a sailor. * On his first voyage 
 to the West Indies, the vessel was wrecked, 
 and young Marion took to the boat with 
 the rest of the crew, where for seven or 
 eight days they subsisted upon the raw 
 ilesh of a dog which, like themselves, had 
 escaped from the wreck. 
 
 After land ing, the yo ivthful Marion aban 
 doned the sea, and took to farming. In 
 the expedition against the Cherokees, he 
 was made a lieutenant under Moultrie, 
 and subsequently served as a captain in 
 a second Indian expedition. When the 
 Pievolutionan- War began, he was chosen 
 captain of a company, and assisted (hav 
 ing in the meantime been promoted to 
 the rank of major) in the gallant and suc 
 
 cessful defence of Fort Moultrie, in June, 
 1776. In the late siege of Charleston, 
 he commanded a regiment as lieutenant- 
 colonel ; but, having by accident broken 
 his leg, he became incapable of military 
 duty. Leaving the city before its sur 
 render, he fortunately escaped falling with 
 the rest of the garrison into the hands of 
 the enemy. He now took refuge in North 
 Carolina, and sought, like Sumter, an oc 
 casion to redeem his native land. 
 
 Marion was now forty-eight years of 
 age. Small in stature, meager in frame, 
 and of a sallow, hard visage, he had not 
 a very martial appearance. He was, nev 
 ertheless, a man of great powers of endu 
 rance, which were strengthened by his 
 severely abstemious habits. He drank 
 nothing but water, and ate sparingly. 
 "His dress was like his address plain, 
 regarding comfort and decency only: * 
 He was a reserved, cautious man, and, 
 though well informed, seldom disposed to 
 conversation. Trusting to his own fer 
 tility of expedient, he rarely sought coun 
 sel from others, and his success as a strat 
 egist seemed to justify his self-reliance. 
 He was a rigid disciplinarian, and he not 
 only made his men good soldiers, but took 
 care of them. Never avoid in u* danger, 
 
 O O 
 
 he never rashly sought it ; and, acting 
 for all around him as he did for himself, 
 he risked the lives of his followers only 
 when it was necessary. He was so up 
 right, that, " during the difficult course of 
 warfare through which he passed, calum 
 ny never charged him with violating the 
 rights of person, property, or humanity .""j" 
 His fellow-countrymen, knowing him to 
 
 * Lee. t Ib. 
 
11 1C VOLUTION ART.] 
 
 RISING OF THE CAROLINA PATRIOTS. 
 
 73S 
 
 be ft without fear and without reproach," 
 styled him " The Bayard of the South ;" but 
 his British and tory enemies denominated 
 him "The Swamp-Fox." 
 
 ANDREW PICKENS, though born in Penn 
 sylvania, and a younger man, was hardly 
 less effective than Surnter and Marion in 
 the partisan warfare of South Carolina. 
 Governor Rutledge, with a shrewd judg 
 ment of character, had singled out these 
 three, and appointed them brigadier-gen 
 erals in the militia of the state. 
 
 Marion, Sumter, and Pickens, all made 
 themselves formidable in the guerilla war 
 fare in which they were engaged, and 
 greatly contributed to the final triumph 
 of the Americans in the South. Their 
 troops were at first few in number, and 
 made up of a miscellaneous assortment 
 of ill-dressed and poorly-equipped whites 
 and blacks. All were mounted, and most 
 of them armed with rifles. A few only 
 acted,how r ever,as cavalry, and brandished 
 old mill-saws converted into broadswords, 
 or knives at the ends of poles, until they 
 could supply themselves at the enemy s 
 expense with sabres and lances.* When 
 about making an attack, most of the men 
 dismounted, leaving their horses in some 
 hidden spot near by, in readiness to re 
 mount for either pursuit or flight. The 
 men were all hard riders and good marks 
 men ; they endured the longest and most 
 toilsome marches without fatigue, seldom 
 feeding more than once a day, and w r ere 
 prompt in action.-j- 
 
 Governor Rutledge had, fortunately, 
 left Charleston before the disastrous close 
 of the siege, the better to employ himself 
 
 * Irving. * Lee. 
 
 in other states for the benefit of his own. 
 He personally sought the several authori 
 ties and people of North Carolina, Vir 
 ginia, and finally Congress, and received 
 liberal promises from all. With these he 
 returned to South Carolina, full of hope, 
 to give vigor and concentrative energy 
 to all the efforts that might be employed 
 against the invader. 
 
 In the meanwhile, General Rutherford 
 had succeeded in raising fifteen hundred 
 men, whom he brought together at Char 
 lotte, in North Carolina, the well-known 
 "Hornet s Nest" as this whig region was 
 called by the royalists. This force w r as 
 sufficient to discourage the approach of 
 Tarleton in that quarter; and Lord Raw- 
 don, who had established a post at the 
 Wexhaws, now deemed it prudent to 
 abandon it. 
 
 But time was required to arouse the 
 country; and in the meantime, under Brit 
 ish auspices, the loyalists grew active and 
 audacious. A large force of these, raised 
 in North Carolina, had collected 
 at Ramsour s, under a Colonel 
 Moore. A detachment of General Ruth 
 erford s troops, under Colonel Locke, at 
 tacked and defeated them. Other par 
 ties of loyalists were growing in both the 
 states ; but they did not grow alone : their 
 rising sufficed to give new spirit to the 
 patriots. They, too, soon showed them 
 selves here and there in North and South 
 Carolina, in bodies more or less numer 
 ous, mostly small and badly armed at 
 first, but full of eagerness, and perhaps 
 vindictive passions. Such was the char 
 acter of the small troop which had re 
 treated before the British, from the low r 
 
 June 22, 
 
734 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 or swamp regions, as the latter advanced 
 into the back-country ; and, strengthened 
 by volunteers from North Carolina, it was 
 now, under the brave Snniter, returning 
 to its native state at the very moment 
 when the cause of liberty seemed most 
 hopeless to the inhabitants. 
 
 " The attitude of this forlorn few," says 
 Simms, " was no less melancholy than gal 
 lant. The British were everywhere tri 
 umphant, the Americans desponding ; the 
 state without any domestic government, 
 and utterly unable to furnish supplies to 
 this little band, whether of arms, clothing, 
 or provisions. Never did patriotism take 
 the field with so few encouragements or 
 so many difficulties. The iron tools of 
 the neighboring farms, the ploughshare 
 and the saw, were worked up into rude 
 weapons of war by ordinary blacksmiths. 
 The partisans supplied themselves in part 
 with bullets by melting the pewter which 
 was given them by private housekeepers. 
 Sometimes they went into battle with less 
 than three rounds to a man ; and one half 
 were obliged to keep at a distance until 
 supplied by the fall of comrades or ene 
 mies with the arms which might enable 
 them to eniiragre in the conflict. When 
 
 O O 
 
 victorious, they relied upon the dead for 
 the ammunition for their next campaign. 
 The readiness with which these brave men 
 resorted to the field, under such circum 
 stances, was the sufficient guaranty for 
 their ultimate success." 
 
 Sumter was the first of these partisan 
 warriors to cross the border into South 
 Carolina, and renew the war with the vic 
 torious British. With a hundred 
 
 July 12, 
 
 and thirty- three followers, this 
 
 [PAKT ii 
 irallant leader attacked and routed a de- 
 
 o 
 
 tachinent of royal troops posted on the 
 frontier. This was the first advantage 
 gained over the enemy in South Carolina 
 
 j since their landing in the beginning of 
 
 I the year. 
 
 The affair of the 12th of July took place 
 at Williamson s plantation, in the upper 
 part of the state. The enemy, consisting 
 of a large detachment of British militia 
 and tories, were under the command of 
 Colonel Ferguson (not the one already 
 described, in the British army) of the for 
 mer, and Captain Houck of the latter. 
 The royalists, not apprehending an ene 
 my, were posted at disadvantage in a lane, 
 both ends of which were entered at the 
 same time by the Carolinians. Ferguson 
 and Houck were both killed, and their 
 men completely routed and dispersed. At 
 the fortunate moment in which the attack 
 was made, a number of prisoners were on 
 their knees, vainly soliciting mercy for 
 themselves and families at the hands of 
 the British officers. Houck had become 
 notorious for his cruel atrocities, in the 
 very performance of which the retributive 
 Providence decreed that he should be 
 slain. On this occasion, Colonel Bratton 
 and Captain M Clure particularly distin 
 guished themselves. These two gallant 
 officers had already made their mark up 
 on a large body of marauding British and 
 tories, in an affair only a month previous, 
 at Moblev s meetinghouse, in Fairfield dis- 
 
 */ O 
 
 trict (within a few weeks after the sur 
 render of Charleston), where they had 
 attacked the enemy, and, after a severe 
 handling, succeeded in dispersing them. 
 One of the gallant young partisans, in the 
 
EVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 EXPLOITS OF SUMTER AND CLARKE. 
 
 735 
 
 July 30, 
 
 August 6. 
 
 affair with Houck and Ferguson, became 
 well known long afterward as the distin 
 guished General Ad air.* 
 
 Sumter s success inspirited the inhabit 
 ants, who came forward with such alac 
 rity to join his standard, that in a few 
 days his force was increased to six hun 
 dred. Emboldened by this reinforcement, 
 an attack was made on the Brit 
 ish at Rocky mount, where the 
 patriots, however, were less successful ; 
 and Sumter, finding that, without artille 
 ry, he could make no impression on the 
 enemy s works of logs and earth, retired. 
 
 Ever active himself, and fearful lest 
 his militia might disband unless kept on 
 the move by constant enterprise, the dar 
 ing and spirited partisan leader attacked 
 a British regiment (the Prince of 
 Wales s) and a large body of to- 
 ries, posted at a place called Hanging 
 Rock, eastward of the Catawba. 
 
 The assault was prompt and effective. 
 The regiment of regulars was so com 
 pletely cut to pieces, that there was left 
 only the small remnant of nine out of 
 two hundred and seventy-eight men ; and 
 the North-Carolina, tories, under Colonel 
 Bryan, who had been so impatient to 
 show their loyalty, were, after suffering 
 severely, totally routed and dispersed. 
 
 In July, Colonel Clarke, with a hundred 
 and ninety men, proceeded to the neigh 
 borhood of Cedar springs, in the Spartan- 
 burg district. Here they were suddenly 
 warned by two women that they would 
 soon be attacked by a large force of Brit 
 ish and tories, commanded by Colonel 
 Dunlap. They prepared themselves ac- 
 
 * Simms. 
 
 cordingly, and were all in readiness when 
 the enemy came on, an hour before day 
 light. It was almost too dark to distin 
 guish friends from foes ; but the British, 
 expecting to surprise the Americans, were 
 in some degree themselves the subject of 
 surprise. They were met firmly, hand to 
 hand, and a fierce conilict took place, in 
 which they were defeated, and were pur 
 sued for nearly a mile. The enemy lost 
 twenty-eight dragoons and about a score 
 of loyalists. Most of the wounds given 
 were with the broadsword. On the re 
 treat, Dunlap was joined by Colonel Fer 
 guson, and their united forces amounted 
 to more than five hundred men. The 
 Americans retired without precipitation 
 or pursuit, and with the loss of only fivo 
 killed and thirty wounded. 
 
 These gallant enterprises of Sumter and 
 others had tended greatly to encourage 
 the desponding Carolinians, and to abate 
 the panic which had been occasioned by 
 the fall of their chief town. All that was 
 wanted by the scattered bands of patri 
 ots were good weapons, ample munitions, 
 and an able military leader, capable of 
 showing the way. Hence the continual 
 call upon the main army of Washington 
 for general officers. The patriots were 
 now still further inspirited by learning 
 that regular troops were marching from 
 the North to their succor. 
 
 While the siege of Charleston was im 
 pending, some fourteen hundred conti 
 nentals, consisting of the Delaware and 
 Maryland lines, and some Virginia troops, 
 had been ordered by Congress to rein 
 force General Lincoln in defence of the 
 beleagnred city. They were confided to 
 
736 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 |_PART II. 
 
 the command of Major-General Baron de 
 Kalb. After some delay from embarrass 
 ment in the commissariat department, the 
 
 brave and experienced German 
 April 10. , . , Ar 
 
 set out from the camp at Morris- 
 
 town on his long southern march. The 
 journey, by land, was tolerably expedi 
 tious for the first part of the route; but, 
 lacking means of transportation, without 
 cash or credit, and relying for facilities 
 of march upon states so thinly settled as 
 Virginia and North Carolina, the progress 
 of these troops had been too slow for the 
 succor of the besieged city. They were 
 still on the march when the tidings were 
 received of the fall of Charleston. 
 
 But the march was not arrested. De 
 Kalb led his men with a proper care, and 
 with due regard to their sufferings, which 
 were great, through a wild and almost 
 uninhabited region. He had pushed his 
 progress, to the South by the direct route 
 from Petersburg, in Virginia, for Camden, 
 
 in. South Carolina. When he had 
 
 j i. n -11 r> 
 
 arrived at Coxs mills, on Deep 
 
 river, in North Carolina, the baron was 
 brought to a halt for want of provisions, 
 and also by doubt as to his future course. 
 No supplies could be obtained from the 
 authorities of the state, and very little 
 by forced contributions from the inhab 
 itants. 
 
 De Kalb was obliged, nevertheless, to 
 continue his march, in order to keep his 
 trcops from starving, as he hoped to reach 
 a part of the country where there might 
 be found a better prospect of subsistence. 
 He accordingly moved along the Deep 
 river, and encamped near Buffalo ford. 
 whence he sent out his forajmiayparties. 
 
 O O J. 
 
 <> 
 
 With all his activity, however, he could 
 hardly obtain a sufficient supply of grain 
 for the immediate subsistence of his army, 
 and the only meat that could be procured 
 was the lean beef of the wild cattle which 
 roamed in the pine-woods and the cane- 
 brakes. Major-General Caswell, in com 
 mand of the North-Carolina militia, was, 
 moreover, in advance ; and his hungry 
 troopers were skinning all the " fat of the 
 land," and leaving nothing but a meager 
 residue behind them. 
 
 The baron strove to induce Caswell to 
 join him, but he and his militia preferred 
 the independence of campaigning on their 
 own account. De Kalb remonstrated, but 
 in vain, and appealed to the state legisla 
 ture and to Congress. While thus per 
 plexed, and doubtful of the future, Gen 
 eral Gates presented himself in camp. 
 
 Although Congress relied with conli- 
 
 O O 
 
 dence upon the patriotism and devotion 
 of Baron de Kalb, it was deemed best to 
 despatch a general commander to organ 
 ize a southern army who was better known 
 through the country, and the prestige of 
 whose name would induce the patriots of 
 the South to rally to his standard. Ear 
 ly in the spring, Washington, seeing the 
 necessity of more vigorous operations in 
 the Carol inas, had intended to recommend 
 General Greene as the fittest officer to 
 lead the destined reinforcements to the 
 aid of Lincoln, and to take the general 
 command of all the southern forces; but 
 after hearing of the fall of Charleston and 
 the capture of Lincoln, Congress, without 
 consulting the commander-in-chief in this 
 important matter, had appointed General 
 Gates to that momentous service. The 
 
RE VOLUTION A It f.J 
 
 LEE S PROPHETIC WARNING. MARCH OF GATES. 
 
 737 
 
 latter was then enjoying a brief repose 
 upon his estate in Virginia, where he and 
 his old friend, General Charles Lee, fre 
 quently discussed public affairs, and un 
 doubtedly in a spirit and temper most 
 unfriendly to Washington. 
 
 On his arrival, General Gates, of course, 
 superseded De Kalb. The baron gladly 
 yielded up his irksome authority,but mod 
 
 estly consented to remain in the subordi 
 nate command of the Maryland division. 
 Gates himself may have assumed his new 
 position with no very sanguine hopes, 
 when he recalled the parting words of 
 his friend Lee, who, on bidding him fare 
 well in Virginia, said, "Beware that your 
 northern laurels do not change to southern ivil- 
 lows !" 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXTII. 
 
 General Gates on the Move. Plenty of Rum and Rations. The Troops inspirited. Precipitation. A Suffering Army. 
 The Promised Land. Hope deferred. Green Corn and Lean Beef. Crossing of the Pedee River. Marion and Ins 
 Troopers. Disappointment. Junction with the Militia. Lord Rawdon at Camden. British Reinforcements. Earl 
 Cornwallis to the Rescue. His Promptitude. Order of Battle. Battle of Camden. Panic of the Militia. Flight. 
 Effects of Diet on Courage. Good Conduct of the Regulars. Victory of the British. Death of Baron de Kalb. 
 Gates goes with the Torrent. No Rally. Tarlcton and Sumter. A Sudden Burst. Pursuit. The Losses. A Sad 
 Train. A Mortifying Picture. Gates humbled. 
 
 1780, 
 
 THE ceremonies of his reception 
 being over the little park of ar 
 tillery having fired a continental salute, 
 and an interchange of courtesies having 
 passed between the polite De Kalb and 
 his successor General Gates promptly 
 ordered the troops to be in readiness to 
 move at a moment s warning. This cre 
 ated great surprise and much grumbling 
 in the army, as, from its long-suffering in 
 consequence of meager supplies, it was 
 in an ill condition for a march. The sol 
 diers, however, were encouraged by their 
 new general s assurances that an abun 
 dance of "rum and rations" was on the 
 route, and would soon overtake them. 
 
 The troops, inspirited by such 
 
 July 27 
 
 a prospect, hesitated no longer, 
 
 and accordingly began to move. General 
 Gates, eager to signalize his command by 
 a promptitude of action that might con 
 trast favorably with the Fabian policy of 
 other commanders whose slowness he was 
 wont so freely to censure, determined to 
 push right on, form a junction with Gen 
 eral Caswell, and strike at the enemy. 
 He therefore took the route over Deep 
 river, by Buffalo ford, leading to the ad 
 vanced post of the British at Lynch s 
 creek, on the road to Camden, at which 
 latter place, about one hundred and ten 
 miles northwest from Charleston, Lord 
 Rawdon was posted with his main army. 
 Colonel Otho Holland Williams, adju 
 tant-general, ventured to expostulate with 
 Gates upon " the seeming precipitate and 
 
738 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 inconsiderate step he was taking." The 
 country through which he was about to 
 march, Williams declared, was naturally 
 barren, abounding in sandy plains, inter 
 sected by swamps, and but thinly inhab 
 ited ; while the scant supplies of provis 
 ions and forage produced on the banks 
 of its few streams had already been swept 
 away by the devastations of the enemy 
 and the hordes of tory freebooters. The 
 colonel advised with earnestness a north 
 west route, leading across the Pedee, to 
 the town of Salisbury, lying in the midst 
 of a fertile country, and inhabited by 
 warm friends of the patriot cause. 
 
 Gates, however, was not to be diverted 
 from his resolution, and persevered in the 
 route which he had begun. His men 
 were already reduced to the "scraps" in 
 their knapsacks, as their only food ; and, 
 as they continued their march, they found 
 that there was but little promise of plen 
 ty. The country proved even \vorse than 
 it had been represented. With its wide 
 stretches of sanely plain and deep moras 
 ses, there was but little cultivation ; and 
 those rare spots where the sparse settlers 
 had built here and there a log-house, and 
 raised a meager patch of corn, were found 
 devastated and abandoned. The soldiers 
 suffered greatly from the want of supplies, 
 but bore up manfully with the prospect 
 in advance of reaching the fertile banks 
 of the Pedee. 
 
 Even here, however, in the fatter land, 
 the sufferings of the army did not cease. 
 The fields, it is true, were rich with prom 
 ising crops; but the Indian corn was not 
 yet ripe, and, as the harvest of the previ 
 ous year was exhausted, the soldiers in 
 
 August 3. 
 
 their hunger were forced to pluck the 
 green ears. These, boiled with the lean 
 beef, and eaten with green peaches as a 
 substitute for bread, constituted their on 
 ly diet, which, though it satisfied the ap 
 petite, did not fail to produce severe dys 
 enteries. The officers were enabled to 
 thicken their soup with the hair-po\vder 
 left in their toilet-bags ; and thus congrat 
 ulated themselves upon a more whole 
 some repast. 
 
 The little army, however, continued to 
 move on, and, crossing the Pedee river, 
 General Gates w r as met on the 
 opposite (western) side by Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Porterfield and his small 
 corps of Virginians, who, ever since the 
 fall of Charleston, had remained in South 
 Carolina, where they had continued roam 
 ing about the country, picking up what 
 food they could get by foraging. Colonel 
 Marion, too, had joined the march with 
 his few followers, " distinguished by small 
 black leather caps and the wretchedness 
 of their attire. Their number did not ex 
 ceed twenty men and boys, some white, 
 some black, and all mounted, but most of 
 them miserably equipped : their appear 
 ance was, in fact, so burlesque, that it was 
 with much difficulty the diversion of the 
 regular soldiery was restrained by the of 
 ficers ; and the general himself was glad 
 of an opportunity of detaching Colonel 
 Marion, at his own instance, toward the 
 interior of South Carolina, with orders to 
 watch the motions of the enemy and fur 
 nish intelligence."* It was not long, how 
 ever, before the sneering regulars would 
 have gladly welcomed back Marion and 
 
 * Williams s Narrative. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] GATES AT CLERMONT CORNWALLTS AT CAMDEN. 
 
 730 
 
 his men, to aid in saving them from im 
 pending destruction on the fatal field of 
 Camden. 
 
 As the troops continued their march, 
 disappointment met them at every step. 
 On reaching May s mill, they had expect 
 ed Inrge supplies; but, not finding them, 
 the men began to murmur., and threaten 
 mutiny. The officers, however, by show 
 ing their own empty canteens and mess- 
 cases, satisfied the soldiers that all suffered 
 alike, and quieted them for the time by 
 promising that, if the expected supplies 
 did not arrive, detachments should be al 
 lowed to go out from each corps, and to 
 pick up what provisions they could get. 
 
 Fortunately, a small quantity of Indian 
 corn was soon brought into camp. The 
 mill was now set to work, and, as soon as 
 a mess of meal was ground, it was deliv 
 ered to a squad of men, and so on until 
 all were served, the general and field of 
 ficers taking their share, and not the most 
 abundant, among the last. 
 
 In his impatience, Gates now 
 Aug. 10, / 
 
 rode on and reached General Cas- 
 
 well s camp of militia, about fifteen miles 
 eastward of the British advanced post on 
 Lynch s creek. Next day the army fol 
 lowed and formed the junction with Cas- 
 well s troops. All were cheered by the 
 event, and the combined forces marched 
 with invigorated spirits to Cler- 
 mont, about twelve miles from 
 Camden, at which place Lord E-awdon, on 
 the near approach of Gates, had concen 
 trated all his troops. 
 
 The British commander was not dis 
 posed to disturb the American camp until 
 he should receive reinforcements from 
 
 Aug. 13. 
 
 Aug. 14. 
 
 Lord Cornwallis at Charleston, and in the 
 meantime he kept his troops employed 
 in strengthening his defences. 
 
 On the day after his arrival at Cler- 
 mont, Gates was reinforced by the junc 
 tion of Brigadier-General Stevens, with 
 seven hundred Virginia militia. His en 
 tire force now amounted to three thou 
 sand and fifty-two men fit for duty, of 
 whom a third only were regular troops. 
 
 Earl Cornwallis, made aware that the 
 post at Camden was threatened, hastened 
 there in person, followed by a 
 small body of troops. He now 
 assumed the command of the whole force 
 himself, which numbered about twenty- 
 one hundred men. These were, however, 
 with the exception of a few hundred loy 
 alist militia, choice British regulars. His 
 lordship, with his usual promptitude, had 
 been only a single day in camp, 
 when he was prepared to sally 
 out against his enemy ; and at ten o clock 
 at night he began his march to Clermont. 
 
 By a curious coincidence, General Gates 
 had fixed upon nearly the same moment 
 to lead out his force from Rugely s mills 
 tow-ard Camden. Gates had received a 
 request from Surnter for a reinforcement 
 of regular troops to aid him in an attempt 
 to cut off a considerable convoy of British 
 wagons, which, laden with clothing, am 
 munition, and other stores, and guarded 
 by an escort, was on its way by M Cord s 
 ferry from Charleston to the camp of the 
 enemy. The general had accordingly or 
 dered a detachment of four hundred men, 
 including one hundred infantry and two 
 brass fieldpiecus, under Lieutenant-Colo 
 nel Woolford, to join Sumter. In order 
 
740 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 to facilitate this enterprise by a diversion, 
 ignorant of the arrival of Cornwallis by 
 forced marches, and confident that Lord 
 Rawdon would retire on his advance, and 
 fall back upon Charleston, General Gates 
 had taken up his march with the inten 
 tion of posting himself near Camden. 
 
 Colonel Armand and his cavalry-legion 
 led the van, flanked by Lieutenant-Colo 
 nel For terfi eld s corps of Virginia regulars 
 in Indian file on his right, and by Major 
 Armstrong s light-infantry of the North- 
 Carolina militia in the same order on his 
 left. The main body followed, with the 
 Maryland and Delaware regulars forming 
 the front division, in command of Baron 
 de Kalb ; the militia of North Carolina, 
 under General Caswell, next in order; 
 and the militia of Virginia, under Briga 
 dier Stevens, bringing up the rear. 
 
 General Gates was in ignorance of sev 
 eral facts which he might have known, 
 and which it was of infinite importance 
 to his objects that he should have known. 
 Not only was he uninformed of the rapid 
 march of Earl Cornwallis to the relief of 
 Rawdon, and thus underrated the British 
 strength, but he had given himself little 
 time to learn anything. He committed 
 a variety of blunders. He undervalued 
 cavalry, one of the most important por 
 tions of every army, and one especially 
 so in a level and sparsely-settled country 
 like that through which he had to pass. 
 Ho hurried his men, when fatigued, with- 
 
 7 O J 
 
 out necessity, and commenced a night- 
 movement with untried mrlitia, in the 
 face of an enemy. In this march he ex 
 hibited none of that vigilance upon which 
 the success of all military enterprises must 
 
 Aug. 16. 
 
 mainly depend. Lord Cornwallis, on the 
 contrary, appears to have been accurately 
 informed of every particular in relation 
 to the Americans which it was important 
 for him to know. It is even said that an 
 emissary of the British commander suc 
 ceeded in passing himself upon Gates as 
 a fugitive from Camden, and, having won 
 his confidence, made his escape to his 
 British employer. In a fatal state of se 
 curity, the result of his own self-delusion, 
 the American general hurried his troops 
 blindly forward to their doom.* 
 
 The two armies thus moved on in the 
 darkness of the night, without being con 
 scious of each other s approach, the deep 
 sands muffling the sound of every foot 
 step, until they met, about two 
 o clock in the morning, at San- 
 ders s creek, seven miles north of Camden, 
 and nearly midway between that place 
 and Clermont. A smart interchange of 
 small-arms between the advanced guards 
 first revealed the contact of the hostile 
 armies; and a heavier fire immediately 
 ensued. 
 
 Colonel Armand s vanguard of cavalry 
 a miserable apology for a legion," re 
 marks Simms, " made up of the worthless 
 outcasts of foreign service" wheeled at 
 the first discharge from the enemy, and 
 in their retreat threw the Maryland bri 
 gade in their rear into confusion. Por 
 ts 
 
 terfield, however, on the right, with his 
 Virginia infantry, held his ground; but 
 he himself was soon carried off the field, 
 with his leg terribly shattered by a can 
 non-ball. As if by tacit consent, the two 
 armies recoiled, and, bewildered as it were 
 
 * Simms. 
 
REVOLUTION ART. J 
 
 BATTLE OF CAMDEN. 
 
 by the sudden encounter in the darkness, 
 now ceased from all further hostility, and 
 prepared to await the daylight for the 
 conclusion of the strife. 
 
 Some prisoners having been taken by 
 
 O / 
 
 the Americans, one of them was conduct 
 ed to the general, who extorted from him 
 intelligence of the position and strength 
 of the enemy. When he thus declared 
 that Lord Cornwallis was commanding in 
 person nearly three thousand troops (as 
 he reported) within five or six hundred 
 yards of the American lines, Gates was 
 aghast ; as he now discovered, for the first 
 time, the arrival of his lordship, and the 
 considerable strength of his force. 
 
 O 
 
 All the general officers were at once 
 assembled in council, in rear of the line, 
 when Gates, communicating to them the 
 unwelcome intelligence, asked, " Gentle 
 men, what is to be done ?" For awhile 
 no one said a word ; until General Ste 
 vens, of Virginia, breaking the silence, ex 
 claimed, " Gentlemen, is it not too late 
 now to do anything but fight?" "Then 
 we must fight," rejoined Gates. " Gentle 
 men, please to take your posts." Both 
 commanders now anxiously waited for the 
 light of day, and employed the remainder 
 of the night in arranging the order of 
 battle for their troops in the morning. 
 
 The American army was ordered to 
 form with the second Maryland brigade, 
 including (lie Delawares, under Gist, on 
 the right; the North-Carolina militia, un 
 der Caswell, in the centre ; and that of 
 Virginia, under Stevens, on the left. The 
 first Maryland brigade, under the brave 
 General Srnallwood, was to be held in re 
 serve, about two hundred yards in rear 
 
 of the first line. The artillery was placed 
 in the centre of the first line, and the light- 
 infantry of the North-Carolina militia, un 
 der Major Armstrong, was ordered to cov 
 er a small interval between the left wing 
 and the swampy grounds in that quarter. 
 Each flank of the whole line was protect 
 ed by a marsh. Baron de Kalb, the sec 
 ond in command, took post on the right, 
 with the Delaware and second Maryland 
 brigades; while General Gates, directing 
 the whole in person, placed himself on the 
 road between the main body and the re 
 serve. 
 
 The British right, under the command 
 of Lieutenant-Colonel Webster, consisted 
 of a small corps of light-infantry, and the 
 twenty-third and thirty-third regiments; 
 and their left, under Lord Kawdon, was 
 formed by the volunteers of Ireland, the 
 infantry of the legion, a portion of Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Hamilton s Royal North- 
 
 */ 
 
 Carolina regiment, and four fieldpieces, 
 two of them six and two three pounders, 
 directed by Lieutenant M Leod of the ar 
 tillery. The seventy-first regiment, with 
 a six-pounder, composed the reserve, one 
 battalion being placed in the rear of the 
 right division and the other of the left; 
 while the cavalry was stationed in the 
 rear of the whole. The ground upon 
 which the British halted was favorable, 
 as each flank rested on an impervious 
 swamp. 
 
 At break of day, before the opposing 
 lines were completely formed, the British 
 
 were observed to be advancing, 
 
 , . , . ,. , Aug. lo. 
 
 and, in the uncertain light, ap 
 peared to be displaying their columns by 
 the right. The adjutant-general, Colonel 
 
742 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [rAttT IT. 
 
 Williams,ordering the artillery in front to 
 open its fire, immediately galloped to the 
 commanding general, in the rear of the 
 second line, to explain to him the cause 
 of the fire. Gates seemed disposed to 
 await events, and gave no orders for im 
 mediate action. Colonel Williams, how 
 ever, having observed that if the enemv, 
 
 O */ J 
 
 while in the act of displaying, were brisk 
 ly attacked by General Stevens s brigade, 
 which was already in line of battle, the 
 effect might be fortunate, and first im 
 pressions were important, Gates replied : 
 "Sir, that s right; let it be done." 
 
 Williams now hastened to General Ste 
 vens, who, having received his orders, ad 
 vanced at once with his brigade of Vir 
 ginia militia, apparently in fine spirits. It 
 was too late, however, to attack the ene 
 my while they were in the act of display 
 ing. They were already in line. 
 
 In order to provoke the fire of the Brit 
 ish at some distance, and render it less 
 terrifying to the militia, Williams led for 
 ward, within fifty yards of the enemy, a 
 small party of volunteers. These posted 
 themselves behind the trees, and began 
 their fire, but without effecting the pur 
 pose expected. 
 
 The British infantry now came rush in o- 
 
 ^ o 
 
 on, when Stevens, encouraging his men, 
 called out to them, "My brave fellows, 
 you have bayonets as well as they ; we ll 
 charge them !" The militia, however, ap 
 palled by the impetuosity with which the 
 enemy advanced, firing and huzzaing, be 
 came i)anic-stricken,a?zJ,//j/wfwyr down their 
 loaded arms, iled in terror from the field ! 
 The North-Carolinians soon followed the 
 base example of the Virginians, although 
 
 Colonel Dixon s regiment held its ground 
 long enough to fire two or three rounds 
 of cartridge. The greater portion of the 
 militia, however which formed nearly 
 two thirds of the whole army fled v:ilh~ 
 out firing a shot, with Tnrleton and his dra 
 goons in fierce pursuit. "It can not ap 
 pear excessively strange," says an apolo 
 gist, " that such raw militia could not 
 stand before bayonets, when it is consid 
 ered that for some time they had subsist 
 ed on fruit scarcely ripe, without any reg 
 ular rations of flesh, flour, or spirituous 
 liquors."* Another declares that they 
 were weakened bv the effects of " a hastv 
 
 t/ ,y 
 
 meal of quick-baked bread and fresh beef, 
 with a dessert of molasses "mixed with 
 mush or dumplings."^ 
 
 The regulars, however, being now left 
 to bear the whole brunt of the battle, did 
 it manfully. The Delaware and Mary 
 land brigades, though repeatedly broken, 
 formed again and again, and renewed the 
 attack with such spirit, that the result 
 seemed for awhile in suspense. " The ar 
 tillery was lost; the cavalry were swal 
 lowed up in the woods ; and the regular 
 infantry, reduced to a mere point in the 
 field, and numbering but nine hundred 
 men, were now compelled to bear the un 
 divided pressure of two thousand veter 
 ans. But they resisted this pressure no 
 bly, and, their bayonets locking with 
 those of the foe, bore them back upon the 
 field, in many places yielding them pris 
 oners from the very heart of the British 
 line. This triumph was momentary only ; 
 these gallant men \vere unsupported.";]. 
 The enemy, having collected their corns. 
 
 v / \_ / 
 
 * Gordon. t Williams. t Simms. 
 
UEVOLUTIONARY.] DEFEAT OE GATES. DEATH OF BARON DE KALB. 
 
 743 
 
 and directing their whole force against 
 these two brigades, a tremendous fire of 
 musketry was kept up for some time on 
 both sides. Corn wallis, however, finding 
 that there was no cavalry to oppose him 
 (for Armand and his horse had never re 
 turned since their flight during the night). 
 pushed forward his dragoons, under the 
 ubiquitous Tarleton, who, having returned 
 from pursuit of the fugitive militia, and 
 charging at the same moment as the in 
 fantry, put an end to the contest, and com 
 pleted his victory.* 
 
 Never did men behave better than the 
 continentals ; but they were now obliged 
 to fly. The only chance that remained 
 to avoid a surrender on the field, and es 
 cape from the sabres of the dragoons, in 
 whom the British were very strong, was 
 to break away for the morass in their rear, 
 into which they could not be pursued by 
 cavalry. This was done, and by this meas 
 ure alone did any portion of this devoted 
 corps find safety. "Although the royal 
 army fought with great bravery," says 
 Simms, " it must have been beaten but for 
 the flight of the militia. The terrible con 
 flict which followed with the continentals 
 proves what must have been the event 
 had the former behaved like men." 
 
 Baron de Kalb, while fighting on foot 
 at the head of the second Maryland bri 
 gade, fell, mortally wounded, into the 
 hands of the enemy. Colonel du Buys- 
 son, his aid-de-camp, preserved him from 
 instant death by throwing himself upon 
 him, and crying out, "Save, save the 
 baron de Kalb!" and thus receiving the 
 thrusts of the bayonet intended for the 
 
 * Williams. 
 
 prostrate general. De Kalb, having re 
 ceived eleven wounds, died a few days 
 after, and was buried by the British at 
 Camden. With his latest breath he dic 
 tated a letter expressive of the warmest 
 affection for the officers and men of his 
 division; of the satisfaction which he felt 
 at the testimony given by the British ar 
 my to the bravery of his troops; of his 
 being charmed with the firm opposition 
 which they made to a superior force, when 
 abandoned by the militia ; and of the in 
 finite pleasure which he received from 
 the gallant behavior of the division he 
 commanded/ 
 
 General Gates " was borne off the field 
 by a torrent of dismayed militia. "f Gen 
 eral Caswell followed close in his wake. 
 When the two commanders reached Cler- 
 mont, they attempted to rally the fugi 
 tive militia, in order to cover the retreat 
 of the regulars ; but the farther the troops 
 fled, the more they scattered : and the 
 generals, giving up all as lost, and aban 
 doned by all but their aids-de-camp and 
 some twenty or thirty followers, retired to 
 
 * " The baron de Kalb was a native of Alsace (a German 
 province ceded to France), and a knight of the royal mili 
 tary order of merit. He was educated for war in the French 
 army, and, having been there connected with the quarter 
 master-general s department, his experience was of much 
 service in America. He had been in the colonies toward 
 the close of the French and Indian War, as a secret agent 
 of the French government, when lie travelled in disguise. 
 He came over with Lafayette in 1777, when Congress com 
 missioned him a major-general, he having held the office 
 of brigadier in the French service. De Kalb died at Cam- 
 den three days after the battle. He was buried there, and 
 the citizens of Camden have erected a neat marble monu 
 ment to his memory, the corner-stone of which was laid in 
 1825, by Lafayette, when he visited the grave of his old 
 friend arid companion-in-arms. On the 14th of October, 
 1780, Congress also resolved to erect a monument to his 
 memory in Annapolis." LOSSINO. 
 
 t Gordon. 
 
BATTLES OP AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 Aiiff, 15 
 
 Charlotte, in North Carolina, sixty miles 
 distant from the field of battle, and thence 
 to Hillsborough. 
 
 On Gates s route, an officer overtook 
 him with the intelligence that Surnter had 
 succeeded in his enterprise against Ca 
 rey s fort on the Wateree, having taken 
 the enemy s post, and intercepted the es 
 cort of stores, which were all captured, 
 together with forty baggage- wagons and 
 
 O / C3 O O 
 
 a hundred prisoners. This oc 
 curred on the evening previous 
 to the battle of Camden. The success. 
 however, was now of no advantage to the 
 defeated commander, and merely served 
 to add to the bitterness of his own mis 
 fortune. All lie could do was to send or 
 ders to Sumter to retire in the best man 
 ner he could. 
 
 On hearing of the defeat of General 
 Gates, Sumter began his retreat up the 
 south side of the Wateree. His move 
 ments were greatly impeded by his cap 
 tured baggage-wagons, filled with booty 
 of the very kind that the Americans were 
 most in need of. He was encumbered, 
 also, by three hundred prisoners. 
 
 Before Sumter could effect his escape, 
 
 Cornwallis had sent Tarleton with his le- 
 
 gion in pursuit of him, nccompa- 
 
 /lHg I 7 1 -11 
 
 nied by a detachment of infanty. 
 This prompt officer pushed on with his 
 usual rapidity ; and finding, before he had 
 proceeded far, that more than half of his 
 horses had given out from sheer exhaus 
 tion, he galloped ahead with the remain 
 der, consisting of only one -hundred and 
 sixty. 
 
 Sumter, believing himself secure in his 
 position at the mouth of Fishing creek, 
 
 where he had halted, became less cau 
 tious than he should have been. Satis 
 fied with the precaution of posting two 
 videttes in advance on the road, he al 
 lowed his tired men to relax at pleasure. 
 They accordingly stacked their arms, and 
 began to indulge themselves, some in bath 
 ing, some in strolling, and others in sleep. 
 Two shots were heard, but were unheed 
 ed, as they were only supposed to be fired 
 by some of the militia out in search of 
 cattle. They were, however, shots from 
 the videttes, who had thus endeavored to 
 alarm the camp, and put Sumter and his 
 men on their guard ; for they had caught 
 sight of Tarleton and his dragoons, who 
 were rapidly approaching. 
 
 The British now burst suddenly upon 
 them. Sumter strove to rally his men in 
 
 defence; but although here and 
 
 ,, f i i i -i Aug. 18, 
 
 there some few struggled awhile 
 
 with the enemy behind the wagons and 
 baggage, there was soon a general rout. 
 Nearly four hundred were struck down, 
 and either killed or wounded. Sumter 
 himself and about three hundred of his 
 men succeeded in making their escape 
 through the woods and river, leaving all 
 their baggage, the stores, and the prison 
 ers, which they had lately taken, in the 
 hands of Tarleton. 
 
 The loss by Gates s defeat at Camden 
 was heavy. Two hundred and ninety 
 American wounded prisoners were car 
 ried by the enemy into the town. Of 
 these, two hundred and sixty were con- 
 nentals ; eighty-two were North-Carolina 
 militia : and of the Virginia militia, so ef 
 fectual had been their flight, there were 
 only two. The Americans lost the whole 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE LOSSES AT CAMDEN. WILLIAMS S SUCCESS. 
 
 745 
 
 of their artillery, and most of their bag 
 gage. Each corps was broken in action 
 and dispersed, and all the officers sepa 
 rated from their respective commands. 
 The fugitives were pursued for more than 
 twenty miles by Tarleton arid his legion; 
 and as they fled they left everything on 
 their route, so that the way was strewn 
 Avith arms, baggage, and upward of two 
 hundred wagons. The entire American 
 loss was about one thousand in killed, 
 wounded, and prisoners. The British loss 
 was also severe, amounting, according to 
 their own official report, to three hundred 
 and twenty-five; though one of their histo 
 rians states it at four hundred and thirty- 
 four. 
 
 General Gates succeeded in rallying 
 about a hundred and fifty of the conti 
 nentals at Charlotte, but the militia dis 
 persed rapidly to their homes in Carolina 
 and Virginia, Gates now hastened to 
 Hillsborough, where he hoped, with the 
 aid of the general assembly of North Car 
 olina, to devise some plan for renewing 
 military operations. 
 
 The scattered continentals gathered 
 slowly at Charlotte, and marched thence 
 to Salisbury. A sad train moved along 
 the road. " It consisted," says Williams, 
 " of the wretched remnants of the late 
 southern army, a great number of dis 
 tressed whig families, and the whole tribe 
 of Catawba Indians (about three hundred 
 in number, some fifty or sixty of whom 
 were warriors, but indifferently armed). 
 Among the rest were six soldiers who had 
 left the hospitals with other convales 
 cents ; they had all suffered in Buford s 
 unfortunate affair, and had but two sound 
 94 
 
 arms among them : indeed, four of them had 
 not one arm among them, and two only an 
 arm apiece. Each of them had one linen 
 garment. Some of the wounded were in 
 wagons, some in litters, and some on horse 
 back, and their sufferings were "indescri 
 bable. The distresses of the women and 
 children who fled from Charlotte and its 
 neighborhood ; the nakedness of the In 
 dians, and the number of their infants 
 and aged persons ; and the disorder of the 
 whole line of march, conspired to render 
 it a scene too picturesque and compli 
 cated for description. A just represen 
 tation would exhibit an image of com 
 pound wretchedness ; care, anxiety, pain, 
 poverty,hurry, confusion, humiliation, and 
 dejection, would be characteristic traits 
 in the mortifying picture." 
 
 As a small offset to the overwhelming 
 defeat at Camden, almost at the very mo 
 ment when General Gates found himself 
 a fugitive from the field of battle, Wil 
 liams, a bold partisan of South Carolina, 
 assisted by Bratton, Shelby, M Dowal, In- 
 inan, and others, achieved one of his hap 
 piest successes at Musgrove s mill (Gor 
 don s), with an inferior force of a hundred 
 and fifty men, against a detachment of 
 British and loyalists who numbered three 
 hundred, one half of whom were regulars, 
 under the command of Colonel Innis, sec 
 onded by Major Fraser. Williams formed 
 a very pretty little ambuscade 
 for his enemy along the river- 
 thickets, and by adroit management suc 
 ceeded in drawing the British colonel into 
 it. Innis was surrounded by a circular 
 fire, at the moment he supposed himself 
 to be riding down a band of fugitives. 
 
 Aug. 18. 
 
746 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [FART IT. 
 
 The sharp-shooters of Williams and his 
 colleagues then poured in their fire, and 
 rushed upon the foe. Taken by surprise, 
 confounded by assailants on every hand, 
 Innis and Fraser fled with their regulars, 
 breaking through the fiery circle, but at 
 
 o O 
 
 great loss of life. His militia were left 
 to their fate ; and such of them as did not 
 bite the dust, were made prisoners. They 
 lost nearly ninety men slain, and one hun 
 dred prisoners. Williams, from this and 
 other adventures, became the hero of the 
 popular ballad ; fragments of rustic verse 
 yet remain, which show how strongly he 
 had impressed himself on the confidence 
 of the people.* 
 
 But with the defeat and dispersion of 
 Gates s army, the British ascendency in 
 the South was completely re-established ; 
 and, at the close of the summer of 1780, 
 there were no republicans in arms in South 
 Carolina, except Marion and his little band 
 of followers, who took refuge in the mor 
 asses and swamps bordering on the San- 
 tee. General Lee s ominous words were 
 now fulfilled, and Gates s "northern lau 
 rels" had verily changed to "southern 
 willows." Within the brief space of three 
 months the two armies of Lincoln and 
 Gates had been annihilated, and one of 
 the most formidable of the partisan corps 
 that of Smnter was scattered to the 
 winds ! 
 
 The pride of Gates had received an ir 
 retrievable blow, and, in letters addressed 
 to the cornmander-in-chief from Hillsbor- 
 ough, in North Carolina,, he involuntari- 
 
 * Simms. 
 
 ly paid the highest compliments to the 
 noble man whom he had frequently in 
 sulted, and at times affected to despise." 
 Conscious that official disgrace awaited 
 him for the disastrous result of the south 
 ern campaign, he appealed to the gene 
 rosity of Washington in language which 
 showed the real confidence he felt in his 
 chief s justice and magnanimity. "If I 
 can vet render good service to the Uni- 
 
 */ o 
 
 ted States," he wrote, " it will be necessa 
 ry it should be seen that I have the sup 
 port of Congress and of your excellency ; 
 otherwise, some men may think they 
 please my superiors by blaming me, and 
 thus recommend themselves to favor. But 
 you, sir, will be too generous to lend an 
 ear to such men, if such there be, and will 
 show your greatness of soul rather by pro 
 tecting than slighting the unfortunate. If, on 
 the contrary, I am not supported, and 
 countenance is given to every one who 
 will speak disrespectful of me, it will be 
 better for Congress to remove me at once 
 from a command where I shall be unable 
 to render them any good service. This, 
 sir, I submit to your candor and honor, 
 and shall cheerfully await the decision 
 of my superiors." In his reply, Washing 
 ton confessed the surprise which he felt 
 at the result of the campaign., but spoke 
 highly of the bravery of the continental 
 troops. " The accounts," he said, " which 
 the enemy give of the action, show that 
 their victory was dearly bought. Under 
 present circumstances, the system which 
 you are pursuing seems to be extremely 
 proper." 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] KNYPHAUSEN S RAVAGES IN NEW JERSEY. 747 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXIV. 
 
 Knyphansen in New Jersey. Movements of British Troops. Mortal Wound of General Sterling. Dayton and the Militia. 
 --Rising of the Country. Elizabethtown spared. Ravage of Connecticut Farms. The Fighting Parson. Murder of 
 Mrs. Caldwell and Child. A Ruined Home. Knyphausen marches to Springfield. He is checked. Movement of 
 Washington. Retreat of Knyphausen. Arrival of Sir Henry Clinton. A Stratagem. General Greene deceived. 
 Marches and Countermarches. The Struggle on the Railway. Strong Post of Greene. Springfield burnt. " Watts 
 into them, Boys !" Retreat of the British to Staten Island. 
 
 1780, 
 
 INTELLIGENCE of the success of Sir 
 Henry Clinton at Charleston hav 
 ing reached New York, General Knyphau 
 sen became emulous, and strove to signal 
 ize himself before the arrival of his supe 
 rior in command. He accordingly deter 
 mined to make a descent into New Jer 
 sey. 
 
 With this view, five thousand men were 
 thrown over in two divisions du 
 ring the night from Staten isl 
 and to Elizabethtown Point. Brigadier- 
 General Sterling led the first division, and 
 succeeded in making good his landing ; 
 but he had not marched far on the road, 
 when his approach was dimly perceived 
 in the darkness by an American advance- 
 guard. Colonel Day ton, who commanded 
 some Jersey militia at Elizabeth town, hav 
 ing heard of the projected incursion of 
 the British, had stationed twelve men on 
 the shore to be on the lookout. They 
 heard the tramp of the troops, and ob 
 scurely discerned the moving mass, when 
 they challenged the invaders, and, receiv 
 ing no answer, fired and retreated. Gen 
 eral Sterling, riding in advance of his col 
 umn, received this random shot in the 
 knee ; the wound finally proved mortal. 
 
 A short delay ensued, while the wound 
 ed general was borne back, and Knyphau 
 sen came to take his place. Dayton, in 
 the meantime, mustered his militia, and 
 aroused the country. Alarm-guns were 
 fired, and signal-fires lighted ; and every 
 patriot who could bear arms shouldered 
 his musket or brandished his pitchfork. 
 The enemy, however, came on. A clat 
 tering squadron of Siincoe s dragoons, with 
 their drawn sabres and glistening accou- 
 trements,led the van, followed by the solid 
 ranks of the British and Hessian infantry. 
 The undisciplined militia and the miscel 
 laneous throng gathered from the neigh 
 borhood did not venture to oppose so for 
 midable a foe, but, leaving the village of 
 Elizabethtown to the invaders, pushed in 
 to the country, where they hoped to be 
 able to harass them more effectually, and 
 thwart their further progress. 
 
 Knyphausen, satisfied with the desola 
 tion he had made on a previous occasion, 
 spared Elizabethtown from further cru 
 elty, and pressed on for the village of 
 Connecticut Farms (now Union), about 
 five miles distant. Harassed on the road 
 by the fire of the country-people from un 
 der cover of the woods and stone-walls, 
 
 i 
 
 
 
748 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPAKT n 
 
 the British troops finally reached the vil 
 lage, where they met with a spirited re 
 sistance from General Maxwell, who with 
 his brigade had joined the retreating mi 
 litia under Colonel Dayton. Knyphau- 
 sen, however, reinforced by his rear di 
 vision, commanded by Brigadier-General 
 Matthews, was enabled to drive away its 
 defenders, and take possession of the 
 place. 
 
 Infuriated by the opposition they had 
 met, the British and Hessian soldiery now 
 wreaked their rage upon the village of 
 Connecticut Farms. They began to plun 
 der and destroy, first gutting the houses 
 and then burning them. Among those 
 living in the place was Mrs. Caldwell, the 
 wife of the Reverend James Caldwell, a 
 Presbyterian clergyman. After his church 
 had been burnt in Elizabeth town, he had 
 removed to Connecticut Farms, where the 
 parsonage was occupied by his family and 
 himself, when not under marching orders, 
 for he served as a chaplain in the army. 
 As the enemy advanced, Caldwell retreat 
 ed with his regiment, and left his wife and 
 her children in the village. 
 
 Alarmed by the firing in the street, 
 Mrs. Caldwell had retired to a back room, 
 and was sitting on the bed, holding the 
 hand of her child of three years of age in 
 her own, while her infant of eight months 
 was in the arms of a nurse close by, when 
 a musket was levelled at the window and 
 discharged. Two balls struck Mrs. Cald 
 well in the breast, and she instantly fell 
 dead. Her body was allowed to be re 
 moved, and then the house was burned 
 to the ground. 
 
 In the confusion and riot of the sack 
 
 ing of the village, it was difficult to dis 
 cover who was the perpetrator, and wheth 
 er his act was one of premeditated cru 
 elty, or the result of reckless barbarity 
 Believed by the New-Jersey people, how 
 ever, to be the deliberate work of a Brit 
 ish soldier, the deed greatly exasperated 
 them, and goaded the country to a fiercer 
 resistance. Caldwell, anxious for the safe 
 ty of his family, and ignorant of their fate, 
 returned the next day, under the protec 
 tion of a flag, to Connecticut Farms, where 
 he found his wife dead and his home in 
 ruins. Always a zealous patriot, he had 
 never ceased, both in the meetinghouse, 
 where he was noted as " a rousing gospel 
 preacher/ * and in the field, where he was 
 no less famed as a vigorous " fighting par 
 son," to stir up his countrymen manfully 
 to resist their cruel enemies. With pri 
 vate wrongs now added to stimulate his 
 
 O 
 
 just indignation, Cald well s voice and arm 
 were raised with more energy than ever 
 in behalf of the patriot cause.f 
 
 Knyphausen, having left Connecticut 
 Farms in desolation, marched to Spring 
 field. On approaching the bridge over 
 the Rahway, at the entrance of the town, 
 he was brought to a halt by the retreat- 
 
 O v 
 
 ing troops under General Maxwell and 
 Colonel Dayton, and by the discovery 
 that Washington, with the main body of 
 his troops, was posted on the Short hills, 
 in, the rear of Springfield, where he had 
 arrived to check the progress of the ene 
 my in their march toward Morristown. 
 
 * Irving. 
 
 t By a singular fatality, a little more than a year after the 
 melancholy death of his wife, Mr. Caldwell himself was shot 
 by an American sentinel near Elizabethport, because he ro- 
 fused to obey his orders ! 
 
REVOLUTION ART.] 
 
 SECOND INCURSION OF KNYPHAUSEN. 
 
 749 
 
 The Hessian general, finding himself 
 thus opposed, and disappointed in his ex 
 pectation of the people joining him (as 
 he had been led to believe from the ru 
 mors in New York, that New Jersey was 
 discontented in consequence of the fre 
 quent impressments and forced levies of 
 supplies made to relieve the necessities 
 of the continental army), was compelled 
 to retreat. He found some difficulty in 
 crossing to his encampment on Staten 
 island, and being indisposed to return 
 with so poor an account of his somewhat 
 pretentious expedition, he therefore lin 
 gered at Elizabethtown. 
 
 In the meantime, Sir Henry 
 June 17. 
 
 Clinton arrived in the harbor of 
 
 New York from his triumphant southern 
 expedition; and though, when he heard 
 of General Knyphausen s movement, he 
 could not entirely approve of it, he imme 
 diately determined, as the British troops 
 were still in New Jersey, and as Washing 
 ton had left his encampment at Morris- 
 town, to attempt bringing him to action, 
 and if possible to destroy his stores. Sir 
 Henry first landed his troops at Staten 
 island, as if to reinforce Knyphausen, and 
 then re-embarked them almost immedi 
 ately on transports, with the apparent in 
 tention of sailing up the Hudson on an 
 expedition against West Point. His ob 
 ject was, to divert the attention of the 
 American commander from Knyphausen, 
 that he might have an opportunity of ma 
 king another and it was hoped a more 
 successful effort in New Jersey. 
 
 Clinton s stratagem was partially suc 
 cessful. Washington, thinking it possible 
 that the Hudson might be the object of 
 
 the British general, moved with a large 
 body of his troops in that direction, taking 
 the road to Pompton ; though he took 
 care to leave a considerable force, consist 
 ing of the brigades of Maxwell and Stark, 
 Lee s dragoons, and the New-Jersey mili 
 tia, under General Greene, posted on the 
 Short hills, in order to oppose any move 
 ment which the enemy might make tow 
 ard Morristown, while he himself moved 
 warily, that he might be conveniently 
 placed, to push forward or return, as cir 
 cumstances might require. His march 
 had been intentionally so slow, that he 
 had got only eleven miles beyond Morris- 
 town, when he heard of the second ad 
 vance of Knyphausen. 
 
 General Greene, thoroughly impressed 
 with the idea that the main object of the 
 enemy was the North river, and Knyp- 
 hausen s movement therefore only a feint, 
 had with the greatest persistence urged 
 the march of the army toward the High 
 lands of the Hudson, and was hardly con 
 vinced of his error until the last moment, 
 when he despatched this note by express 
 to the commander-in-chief : 
 
 " June 2M, 6 o clock. 
 
 " The enemy are out on their march 
 toward this place in full force, having re 
 ceived a considerable reinforcement last 
 
 ni<r 
 
 lit" 
 
 Washington immediately sent off a de 
 tachment to the aid of Greene, and fell 
 back with the rest of his troops some five 
 or six miles, in order to be near at hand, 
 to give him further support should he re 
 quire it 
 
 The enemy, having been strengthened 
 
750 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 by Sir Henry Clinton and his troops, be 
 gan their march from Elizabeth town at 
 
 five o clock in the mornincr, in 
 Jime23, 
 
 two columns : one took the mam 
 
 road, leading directly to Springfield ; and 
 the other the Vauxhall road, which makes 
 a circuit to the north, and joins the first 
 at the pass through the Short hills, about 
 a mile to the west of the town. The Rail 
 way river, one branch of which flows on 
 the east and the other on the west of 
 Springfield, is 3rossed by bridges on both 
 roads, but the stream is here and there 
 ford able. 
 
 General Greene, finding the British ap 
 proaching with the formidable force of 
 five thousand infantry, an imposing body 
 of cavalry, arid fifteen or twenty pieces 
 of artillery, made the best possible dispo 
 sition of his meager supply of troops, in 
 order to defend the village, to guard his 
 own flanks, and to secure a retreat. 
 
 Colonel Angell, with two hundred men 
 and a fieldpiece, was posted at the bridge 
 over the Railway, at the entrance of the 
 town on the east; and Colonel Shreve, 
 with his regiment, was stationed at the 
 bridge over the branch of the river which 
 flows to the west and back of Springfield, 
 in order to cover the retreat of Colonel 
 Angell s advanced pnrty if it should be 
 driven back. Major Harry Lee, with his 
 dragoons and a picked guard, was posted 
 at the bridge on the Vauxhall road, with 
 Colonel Ogden to support him. The re 
 mainder of the brigades of Generals Max 
 well and Stark was drawn up on the high 
 ground in the rear of the town, flanked 
 by the militia. 
 
 The first encounter, with the right col 
 
 umn of the enemy, was on the Vauxhall 
 road, where Major Lee with great obsti 
 nacy disputed possession of the bridge ; 
 which, however, he was finally obliged to 
 yield, as the British forded the river and 
 gained some high ground which command 
 ed his position. 
 
 Colonel Angell, on the main road, made 
 an equally manful struggle with his hand 
 ful of men against the British left division, 
 and only gave up the bridge after a con 
 test of more than fort}^ minutes, when he 
 retired in good order through the town tc 
 the second bridge, where Colonel Shreve 
 covered his retreat, and kept the enemy 
 at bay until called off by the command 
 ing general. 
 
 Greene, fearful lest the British, though 
 successfully opposed at the bridge, might 
 ford the river and surround his small ad 
 vanced parties, ordered them to fall back, 
 and concentrated his whole force on the 
 heights in the rear of the town, where 
 the two roads meet and lead to the pass 
 through the Short hills. Here, strongly 
 posted, the American commander awaited 
 the junction of the two columns of the 
 enemy and their combined attack. He, 
 however, waited in vain. Sir Henry Clin 
 ton and General Knyphausen, having uni 
 ted their force, reconnoitred Greene s po 
 sition, and for awhile threatened to assail 
 it, but finally concluded upon retreating 
 without striking a blow. 
 
 On retreating through Springfield, the 
 British burnt every building except four 
 houses; and, giving up all further attempt 
 to advance upon Morristown and destroy 
 the American stores and magazines there, 
 which had been the chief object of the 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 LAFAYETTE S RETURN FROM FRANCE. 
 
 751 
 
 expedition, they continued their retreat 
 to Elizabethtown. As they went, they 
 were closely followed by the militia, and 
 were greatly harassed. Parson Caldwell 
 made himself conspicuous in the pursuit. 
 " The image of his murdered wife," says 
 Irving, " was before his eyes. Finding 
 the men in want of wadding, he galloped 
 to the Presbyterian church and brought 
 thence a quantity of Watts s psalm and 
 hymn books, which he distributed for the 
 purpose among the soldiers. Now] cried 
 he, piil Watts into them, boys / " 
 
 Lee was also active with his dragoons, 
 and picked up a number of stragglers and 
 a large quantity of stores and baggage. 
 The enemy s loss was considerably more 
 than that of the Americans, who had but 
 twenty killed and sixty wounded in the 
 various encounters. 
 
 The British finally crossed over to Sta- 
 ten island, and, destroying their 
 bridge of boats, apparently gave 
 up all further designs upon the much- 
 vexed territory of New Jersey, which had 
 hitherto suffered so much by the war. 
 
 June 25, 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXV. 
 
 Return of Lafayette. His Warm Welcome. Tears of Joy. Good Tidings. Dear Americans. The Marquis welcomed 
 by Congress. Count de llochambeau. His Life and Character. French Aid. Gallant Nobles of France. Recep 
 tion at Newport. "Our General" in Rhode Island. Plan of Combined Attack. Sir Henry Clinton on the Alert. 
 Movements and Counter-Movements. Lafayette s Troops. The French Fleet blockaded. General Arnold makes 
 his Appearance. His Disappointment. He is appointed to the Command of West Point. A Significant Request. 
 
 1780, 
 
 THE marquis de Lafayette s re 
 turn to America was one of the 
 most encouraging events of the year. 
 The young Frenchman had greatly en- 
 deared himself to Washington by his 
 faithful friendship, and won popular ad 
 miration by his generous enthusiasm in 
 behalf of the cause of American indepen 
 dence. His arrival was welcomed with 
 every expression of delight. Tears of 
 joy rose in the eyes of Washington, on 
 reading Lafayette s letter announcing his 
 arrival at Boston ; and when the 
 youthful marquis reached head 
 quarters, the stately cornmander-in-chief 
 
 April 27, 
 
 " folded him in his arms in a truly pater 
 nal embrace."* 
 
 Lafayette was doubly welcome, for he 
 was the messenger of glad tidings. He 
 brought word that his most Christian ma 
 jesty Louis XVI. was sending to his good 
 allies the American states a French fleet, 
 under the chevalier de Ternay, and a 
 body of troops, commanded by Count de 
 llochambeau. The rnarquis might well 
 feel proud as the bearer of this important 
 intelligence, which he was permitted as 
 yet only to communicate to Washington 
 and to Congress. The result which he 
 
 * Irving. 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 announced was- greatly due to his own 
 efforts in his secret mission to the court 
 of Versailles. So zealous was he in be 
 half of the American cause, and so per 
 suasive were his appeals, that old Count 
 de Maurepas, the French prime minister, 
 remarked one day in council, " It is for 
 tunate for the king that Lafayette does 
 not take it into his head to strip Versailles 
 of its furniture, to send to his dear Americans., 
 as his majesty would be unable to refuse it /"* 
 
 In addition to the request for troops 
 and vessels-of-war for the American ser 
 vice, the marquis had also asked for large 
 supplies of clothing, arms, and ammuni 
 tion, for the patriot army. But he did 
 not ask more of others than he was wil 
 ling to do himself. He purchased on his 
 own account, and brought with him to 
 America, a large quantity of military equi 
 page, which he presented to the officers 
 of light- infantry which he commanded 
 during the next campaigns. 
 
 With skill and foresight, Lafayette had 
 likewise planned the terms of the milita 
 ry alliance before he left France, so as to 
 leave nothing in point of courtesy or eti 
 quette to be settled thereafter between 
 the two commanders-in-chief; these terms 
 Avere embodied in the instructions of the 
 French minister to Count Rochambeau, 
 and were intended to promote perfect 
 harmony between the officers and troops 
 of the two nations. The French were to 
 be, in all cases, under the general com 
 mand of Washington ; and when the two 
 armies should be united, they were to be 
 considered as auxiliary to the Americans, 
 and to yield precedence by taking the left. 
 
 * Sp-n-ks. 
 
 The American officers were to command 
 French officers of equal rank ; and in all 
 military acts and capitulations the Amer 
 ican generals were to be named first, and 
 to sign first. So judiciously were these 
 instructions drawn, that perfect harmony 
 subsisted between the two armies from 
 the moment of the arrival of the French 
 till their departure, two years afterward.* 
 As a token of friendship and alliance, 
 Washington recommended his officers to 
 wear a cockade of white and black inter 
 mixed, the American cockade being black, 
 and that of the French white, the latter 
 being the color of the reigning house of 
 Bourbon. 
 
 From headquarters, in New Jersey, La- 
 fa.yette hastened to Philadelphia, where 
 he was welcomed by Congress with a com 
 plimentary resolution, in which his re 
 turn to America was acknowledged as a 
 proof of his disinterested zeal, and the 
 offer of his services accepted with pleas 
 ure. 
 
 The French fleet, which sailed from 
 France on the 1st of May, w T as seen off 
 the capes of Virginia on the 4th of July, 
 and at length safely entered the harbor 
 of Newport, in Rhode Island. It 
 consisted of seven ships-of-the 
 line, several frigates, and a number of 
 transports (including two bornb-vessels), 
 which had on board six thousand troops. 
 The land-force was commanded by Count 
 de Rochambeau and the fleet by Cheva 
 lier de Ternay.f 
 
 Rochambeau was a veteran officer, who 
 had served with honor against the Prus- 
 
 * Liossing. 
 
 t Tenuiy died at Newport while in command of the fleet. 
 
 July 12, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] COUNT DE ROCHAMBEAU ARRIVES AT NEWPORT. 
 
 753 
 
 siansand English serving under Frederick 
 the Great, in the Seven Years War. His 
 name was JEAN BAPTISTE DONATIEN DE Vi- 
 MEUR, though he is more generally known 
 by his title of Comte de Rocliambeau. He 
 was born at Vendome, in 1725, and en 
 tered the army at the age of sixteen. In 
 1746, he became aid-de-camp to Louis 
 Philippe, duke of Orleans (the father of 
 Philippe Eyalite, who was beheaded in the 
 Re volution, and grand father of King Louis 
 Philippe). Afterward obtaining the com 
 mand of the regiment of La Marche, he 
 distinguished himself at the battle of La- 
 feldt, where he was wounded. He won 
 fresh laurels at Cre veldt; at the battle 
 of Minden, where the French received a 
 terrible defeat; and also at Corbach and 
 Clostercamp. For these services he was 
 made lieutenant-general.* 
 
 As soon as it became known that troops 
 were to be sent to the United States, the 
 young French nobility zealously sought 
 to serve under Washington, who had been 
 appointed by Louis XVI. lieutenant-gen 
 eral of France, and vice-admiral of its 
 fleet, in order that, as before remarked, 
 the French officers might be made subor 
 dinate to the American commander-in- 
 
 * After the return of Count de Rochambeau from Amer 
 ica, he was raised to the rank of marshal by Louis XVI., 
 and, after the French Revolution, he was appointed to the 
 command of the army of the north ; but he was superseded 
 by more active officers, and, being calumniated by the pop 
 ular journalists, he addressed to the National Assembly at 
 Paris a vindication of his conduct. A decree of approbation 
 was consequently passed in May, 1792, and he retired to his 
 estate, near Vendomo, with a determination to interfere no 
 more with public affairs. He was subsequently arrested, 
 and narrowly escaped suffering death, under the tyranny of 
 Robespierre. In 1803, he was presented to Napoleon, then 
 first consul, who granted him a pension, and the cross of 
 grand officer of the Legion of Honor. He died ia 1807, at 
 the advanced age of eighty-one years. 
 
 95 
 
 chief, without wounding their national 
 sensibility. As more offered themselves 
 for appointments than the service re 
 quired, many eager solicitors were disap 
 pointed. Those who came were among 
 the noblest and most gallant youth of 
 France. 
 
 There was the handsome, witty, and 
 brave, but profligate, duke de Lauzun, at 
 the head of his legion ; there was the mar 
 quis de Chastellux,* a relative of Lafay 
 ette, a soldier, courtier, and a man of let 
 ters ; and there was the son of the count 
 de Rochambeau, in command of the regi 
 ment of Auvergne, which his father had 
 often led to victory. They had " brought 
 out with them," said the count himself, 
 " the heroic and chivalrous courage of the 
 ancient French nobility." 
 
 The first impression, on the arrival of 
 the French at Newport, does not seem to 
 have been encouraging. " I landed with 
 my staflfj" wrote the general, K without 
 troops ; nobody appeared in the streets ; 
 those at the window s looked sad and de 
 pressed." In a short time, however, there 
 was an agreeable change. "I spoke to 
 the principal persons of the place," con 
 tinues the count, " and told them, as I 
 wrote to General Washington,that this was 
 merely the advanced guard of a greater 
 force, and that the king was determined 
 to support them with his whole power. 
 In twenty-four hours their spir 
 its rose, and last night all the 
 streets, houses, and steeples, were illinni- 
 nated,_in the midst of fireworks and the 
 greatest rejoicings." 
 
 * Francis John Chastellux, a field-marshal, was the au 
 thor of "Travels in North America," &c. 
 
 July 13. 
 
754 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [I AKT II. 
 
 General Heath bad been ordered by 
 "Washington to proceed to Ehode Island, 
 in order that he might be present to give 
 advice and assistance, as well as to do the 
 honors suitable to the occasion. As soon 
 as the French fleet appeared off the coast, 
 "our general"* immediately prepared to 
 cross over from Providence to Newport; 
 but the day being calm, the packet did 
 not reach the town until twelve o clock 
 at ni$?ht. General Rochambeau had gone 
 
 O *-> 
 
 on shore in the evening. Early the next 
 morning, General Heath likewise went 
 ashore, and waited on the count; from 
 which moment the warmest friendship 
 commenced between "our general, the 
 count, and all the French officers." 
 
 Lafayette also hastened to greet his 
 compatriots, and confer with Rochambeau 
 upon the plans of a campaign which had 
 been concerted with Washington. The 
 arrival of the French was announced to 
 the troops in general orders, and 
 the commander-in-chief express 
 ed the hope that the only contention be 
 tween the two armies would be, to excel 
 each other in good offices and in the dis 
 play of every military virtue. He was, 
 however, in a state of great solicitude, 
 when he reflected upon the utter weak 
 ness of the American army at this time, 
 from the want of supplies of every kind, 
 and the miserably deficient state of the 
 quartermaster s and commissary s depart 
 ments. The army, in the plan of the cam 
 paign of 1780,had been lixed by Congress 
 at thirty-five thousand two hundred and 
 eleven men ; instead of which, the actual 
 
 * General Heath, who, us the reader will recollect, always 
 spciiks of himself as "our general." 
 
 July 20, 
 
 force in the field and under arms, at the 
 end of June, amounted to only about five 
 thousand five hundred men ! Indeed, the 
 allied forces of the Americans and French 
 were still inferior to those of the British 
 commander at New York. 
 
 The plan drawn up by Washington, and 
 now submitted by Lafayette to the French 
 general and admiral, was, to attack New 
 York with the combined forces. Wash 
 ington was to march upon the city by 
 land, in conjunction with Rochambeau, 
 who was to debark on Long island with 
 his troops; while De Ternny was to at 
 tack the British squadron, or blockade it 
 in the harbor. The plan, however, was 
 defeated for the present by tlie arrival of 
 Admiral Graves at New York with six 
 ships-of-the-line, which gave the British 
 the naval superiority. It was now re 
 solved to postpone the expedition until 
 the arrival of the second division of the 
 French force, which had been left at Brest, 
 awaiting transports; or of the squadron 
 of the count de Guichen, which was daily 
 expected from the West Indies. 
 
 In the meantime, Sir Henry Clinton, 
 having obtained information of the pro 
 posed project of the allies, determined to 
 thwart it by attacking the French at New 
 port. He therefore embarked eight thou 
 sand men and sailed up Long-island sound 
 with his transports ; while Admiral Ar- 
 buthnot put to sea with his squadron, in 
 order to co-operate. 
 
 Washington now r proposed to take ad 
 vantage of the absence of Sir Henry Clin 
 ton, and either to strike a blow at New 
 York, or to make such a- demonstration 
 as would cause the British commander to 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] INACTION OF THE ALLIES. GENERAL ARNOLD. 
 
 755 
 
 return to its defence, and abandon his at 
 tack upon Newport. The army, which 
 was on the west, was accordingly thrown 
 across to the east side of the North river. 
 The troops were ordered to disencumber 
 themselves of all their heavy baggage, 
 which, with the women and children, was 
 sent to West Point. Provisions for two 
 days were cooked in advance, the horses 
 of the baggage-wagons were kept con 
 stantly in harness, and every man was 
 ordered to be in readiness to march at a 
 moment s notice. 
 
 The young Lafayette was among the 
 most eager. He was now in command 
 of a light-infantry corps, consisting of two 
 brigades, selected from the different regi 
 ments of the army. He had supplied his 
 officers and men, as we have seen, with 
 extra equipments, at his own expense ; 
 and with conscious pride he displayed his 
 troops in review before Washington and 
 his general officers, by all of whom they 
 were pronounced to be, in accoutrement 
 and bearing, equal to any soldiers in the 
 world. Their uniform was neat, each man 
 wearing a leathern helmet, with a crest of 
 horse-hair. Both officers and privates car 
 ried swords, which Lafayette had himself 
 brought from France and presented to 
 them. The marquis was also anxious to 
 prove that his corps was no less effective 
 in the field than showy on parade. He 
 was, however, disappointed in his martial 
 aspirations. 
 
 On discovering; Washington s move- 
 
 O C5 
 
 merit across the Hudson, and his prepa 
 rations for a inarch upon New York, Sir 
 Henry Clinton gave up his part of the 
 proposed attack on Rhode island, and re 
 
 turned with his land-forces to his head 
 quarters; while Admiral Arbuthnot pro 
 ceeded to blockade the French fleet in 
 the harbor of Newport, and to endeavor 
 to cut off the expected reinforcements. 
 Intelligence soon came that the second 
 division of the French armament was 
 blockaded at Brest by an English squad 
 ron, and that the count de Guichen had 
 sailed from the West Indies for Europe. 
 This compelled the allies to abandon all 
 thought of an attack upon New York, 
 and forced Rochambeau to continue in 
 active during the remainder of the year. 
 
 The American army now recrossed the 
 Hudson, leaving a small detachment to 
 raise some works and establish a post at 
 Dobb s ferry, on the eastern side, in or 
 der to secure a communication for future 
 operations against New York, if found to 
 be practicable. Washington took post at 
 Orangetown (or Old Tappan), opposite 
 Dobb s ferry, where he remained until 
 winter. 
 
 While the army was crossing the river 
 at King s ferry when the movement 
 against New York was contem 
 plated, and Washington was on 
 horseback, directing the passage of the 
 last division General Arnold suddenly 
 presented himself. He seemed anxious 
 to know, and hurriedly asked, what place 
 had been assigned to him. The general- 
 in-chief answered that it was the left wing, 
 which was the post of honor, and which 
 was his right by rank. Arnold made no 
 response, but his face was quickly cloud 
 ed with an expression of dissatisfaction. 
 Washington, deeply engaged in directing 
 the movement of his troops, had no time 
 
 July 31, 
 
 i 
 
756 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 for further parley, and dismissed Arnold, 
 with a courteous request that he would 
 ride to headquarters, where he would soon 
 see and speak with him more at leisure 
 in regard to the matter. 
 
 On Washington s return, he learned 
 from Colonel Tilghman, his aid-de-camp, 
 that Arnold had been speaking freely 
 with him about his interview with the 
 commander-in-chief, and had expressed 
 his disappointment at the result, declar 
 ing that in consequence of his wound he 
 was unfit for the field, and that the only 
 post at which he could do good service 
 was West Point. Washington seemed to 
 be surprised, for this was so unlike the 
 daring Arnold, to prefer the restriction 
 of garrison-duty to the free action of the 
 
 o */ 
 
 field ! Still, he was aware that Arnold 
 had before expressed a desire for the com 
 mand at West Point, although he believed 
 that this had been a mere passing caprice 
 of that restless officer, and not the ear 
 nest wish of his heart. 
 
 General Arnold, however, was deeply 
 in earnest, and had been so ever since he 
 had solicited the command. Thus, he had 
 urged in his behalf the interposition of his 
 friends in Congress, and the exercise of 
 the influence of General Schuyler and of 
 Mr. Robert R. Livingston, the member 
 from New York, who wrote to Washing 
 ton, asking for the appointment of Arnold 
 to the command at West Point, upon the 
 ground that he was not only an officer of 
 tried courage and ability, but stood high 
 in the estimation of the people of New 
 York, and was popular with the militia, 
 whose services would be required. Liv- 
 
 8. 
 
 i, however, made no allusion to the 
 fact that he had been prompted by Ar 
 nold himself to make this application, and 
 left it to be inferred by Washington that 
 his only motive was the suitableness of 
 the appointment. 
 
 Recalling to mind the previous solici 
 tations which had been made, and now 
 finding that Arnold himself was resolute 
 ly bent upon obtaining the appointment, 
 Washington no longer hesitated, but gave 
 him the command at West Point, whither 
 he immediately proceeded. Ar- 
 
 All! 
 
 nold s headquarters were estab 
 lished at the former residence of Colonel 
 Beverly Robinson, a loyalist in the ser 
 vice of Great Britain. The- " Robinson 
 house," as it was called, is situated (for it 
 still exists) on the eastern and opposite 
 bank of the Hudson to that of West Point, 
 and between two and three miles below 
 that post. 
 
 On taking leave of Washington and his 
 officers, when about to assume his com 
 mand, General Arnold suggested to La 
 fayette, who had spies in his pay at New 
 York, that, as their intelligence might 
 sometimes come more conveniently by 
 the way of West Point, it would be as 
 well to intrust him (Arnold) with their 
 names, that intercourse with them miVht 
 
 o 
 
 be thus facilitated. The young marquis 
 unhesitatingly declined, on the principle 
 that he was bound in honor to keep the 
 names of the spies to himself. Nothinf 
 more, at the time, was thought of it; but 
 subsequent events revived its remem 
 brance, and gave great significance to 
 Arnold s request. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] SCHEMES AND PECULATIONS OF ARNOLD. 
 
 757 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXVI. 
 
 General Arnold as Governor of Philadelphia. His Restlessness. Abortive Schemes. Suspicious Conduct. Charges. - 
 Resignation. Splendor and Expense. The Penn House. Banquets. Coach-and-Fonr. The Marriage. A Reign 
 ing Toast. The Beautiful Margaret Sliippen. A Needy Prodigal. Verdict of the Court-Martial. Gentle Words of 
 Washington. A Sore Conscience. Desperation. A French Rebuke. Good Advice. Contemplated Treason. 
 Arnold s Unpopularity. His Correspondence with Major Andre. " Gtistavus." Life of Major Andre. A Youthful 
 Adjutant. 
 
 1780. 
 
 GENERAL ARNOLD, it will be recol 
 lected, was appointed military gov 
 ernor of Philadelphia in May, 1778, im 
 mediately after the evacuation of that 
 city by the British troops under Sir Hen 
 ry Clinton. Here he soon incurred the 
 dislike of the inhabitants by his arbitrary 
 conduct, and their suspicion by his equiv 
 ocal transactions. His restlessness of dis 
 position, or his desire to escape from the 
 observation of those who regarded him 
 with no friendly eye, prompted him to 
 seek another field for his active energies, 
 and a month had hardly passed when he 
 solicited an appointment in the navy. 
 
 Abandoning this design, either from its 
 impracticability or from his own caprice, 
 Arnold resolved to take the command of 
 a privateer. This scheme was in its turn 
 also given up while preparations were ma 
 king for its accomplishment. His next 
 project was, to obtain a grant of land in 
 the western part of New York, for the es 
 tablishment of a settlementfor the officers 
 and soldiers who had served under him, 
 and for such other persons as might be 
 disposed to join them. This plan, too, 
 was nursed for awhile, and finally aban 
 doned by its capricious parent. Among 
 
 the various other projects with which his 
 restless mind teemed, he at one time en 
 tertained the idea of forming a vast con 
 federacy of the Indian tribes, of which he 
 might then become its great and power 
 ful chief. 
 
 General Arnold s conduct, in his capaci 
 ty as military commandant of Philadel 
 phia, at length became so suspicious, and 
 doubts of his integrity were so freely ex 
 pressed, that the council of Pennsylvania 
 was forced to take cognizance of them. 
 An investigation ensued, which resulted 
 in the presentation of certain charges, 
 some of which imputed criminality, and 
 all implied abuse of power. These were 
 submitted to Congress, and referred to a 
 committee of inquiry, which reported fa 
 vorably to Arnold. The authorities of 
 Pennsylvania, however, still clung to their 
 charges, and insisted that Arnold should 
 be tried by the military tribunal to which, 
 as an army-officer, he was amenable. Con 
 gress assented, and it was resolved that 
 the charges should be referred to a court- 
 rnartial for its decision. The accused gen 
 eral complained that he was unfairly treat 
 ed, and sacrificed by Congress to a desire 
 on its part to conciliate the state of Penn- 
 
758 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [I AUT II. 
 
 sylvania. In the meanwhile, kept in sus 
 pense by repeated postponements of his 
 trial, he fretted angrily under the impend 
 ing accusations. Under pretence of the 
 wants of the army, he had forbidden the 
 shopkeepers of Philadelphia " to sell or 
 buy; he then put their goods at the dis 
 posal of his agents, and caused them af 
 terward to be resold at a profit. At one 
 moment, he prostituted his authority to 
 enrich his accomplices; at the next, he 
 squabbled with them about the division 
 of the prey."* 
 
 Arnold now resigned his command, but 
 remained in Philadelphia, where since his 
 first arrival he had lived in a style of 
 unexampled splendor and expense. He 
 took possession of the " Perm house," one 
 of the most imposing in the city, gave 
 magnificent banquets, and drove a coach- 
 and-four,with liveried coachman and lack 
 eys. When Monsieur Gerard, the French 
 embassador, first arrived in Philadelphia, 
 Arnold gave him a grand dinner, a,nd en 
 tertained him and all his suite in his house 
 for several days. 
 
 His marriage with Miss Margaret Ship- 
 pen, the daughter of Mr. Edward Ship- 
 pen (afterward chief-justice of Pennsyl 
 vania, though at that time supposed to 
 be favorably inclined toward the tories), 
 added still more to Arnold s love of ex 
 pensive display and ostentation. lie was 
 forty years of age, and a widower. Miss 
 Shippen was a beauty of eighteen, and 
 fond of gayety and public admiration. 
 She had been a reigning toast of the town 
 while the British occupied Philadelphia, 
 and was one of the fair ladies whose su- 
 
 * American Register, vol. ii., p. 23, 1817. 
 
 premacy in " wit, beauty, and every ac 
 complishment," the knights of the "Blend 
 ed Rose" in the famous Mischianza assert 
 ed by " deeds of arms" against all rivals.* 
 Her attractions had made such an im 
 pression upon the British officers, that, 
 after leaving Philadelphia, no name was 
 more frequently heard in the toast and 
 sentiment which, as was the custom in 
 those days, flavored the after-dinner Ma 
 deira, than that of the beautiful Margaret 
 Shippen. With Andre, the captivating 
 aid-de-camp of the English commander-in- 
 chief, her remembrance was kept fresh by 
 a sentimental correspondence, which was 
 continued even after her marriage.-j- 
 
 The associations of his wife s family 
 were with the more pretentious and tory 
 people of Philadelphia, and Arnold was 
 thus brought in constant contact with 
 those whose habits were neither calcu 
 lated to lessen his prodigality, nor their 
 principles to increase his patriotism. 
 
 * See page 91, of this volume. 
 
 t " It was from one of the disaffected or tory families thai 
 Arnold selected his wife. He loved her with passionate 
 fondness, and she deserved his attachment, by her virtues 
 and solidity of understanding. In addition to these advan 
 tages, she possessed an extraordinary share of beauty, dis 
 tinguishable even in a country where Nature has been prodi 
 gal of her favors to the sex. A considerable time before 
 this marriage, when Philadelphia was still in the hands of 
 the enemy, the relatives of the lady had given an eager wel 
 come lo the British commanders. His marriage, therefore, 
 caused some surprise ; but he was pledged to the republic 
 by so many services rendered and benefits received, that the 
 alliance gave umbrage to no one." American Register, 1817. 
 
 "It is generally believed," adds Mr. Lossing, " that Ar 
 nold s wife was instrumental in weakening his attachment to 
 the American cause." W T hen he received from Washington 
 the command at West Point, " the news of this unexpected 
 success reached Mrs Arnold in the midst of a large assem 
 bly at an evening party in Philadelphia, and so affected her 
 that she partly swooned ; yet no one suspected the real cause 
 of her emotion, and, when she recovered, they all eongratu 
 latcd her upon the resolution and good success of her bus 
 band !" 
 
RKVOLUTIONARY.J 
 
 TRIAL AND REPRIMAND OF ARNOLD. 
 
 759 
 
 Arnold, living in a style of profuse 
 splendor, which he had not the means to 
 support, was soon driven to the usual re 
 sources of the needy prodigal. He in 
 curred debts as long as his credit enabled 
 him; but when this means failed, he re 
 sorted to other expedients. He specula 
 ted in privateer-risks and various trading- 
 projects. When Count d Estaing with his 
 fleet approached New York, and it was 
 supposed that the British would be forced 
 to evacuate the city, Arnold formed a 
 partnership with two other persons, to 
 purchase (on the expected decline of the 
 market) goods to the amount of thirty 
 thousand pounds sterling within the lines 
 of the enemy. These projects of antici 
 pated profit failing, Arnold, whose pride 
 would not permit him to diminish his ex 
 penditures, was prepared to resort to any 
 means to supply his reckless prodigality. 
 In the meantime, the court-martial, ap 
 pointed more than a year previous, con 
 vened at Morristown, whither Arnold re 
 paired. Having investigated the charges 
 against him, that tribunal, on the 
 20th of January, pronounced him 
 guilty of two of them,* though with miti 
 gating circumstances, and sentenced him 
 to be reprimanded by Washington. Nev 
 er was the sword of justice more delicate 
 ly tempered, and a smoother wound given 
 
 * The two charges which were sustained in part, but not 
 so far us to imply criminality, were these : 1. That Arnold, 
 when at Valley Forge, before the evacuation of Philadel 
 phia by the British, had given a written protection to the 
 commander of a vessel to proceed to sea and enter any port 
 within the United States. The mitigating circumstance was, 
 that the vessel was the property of persons who had taken 
 the oath of allegiance to the state of Pennsylvania. 2. That 
 Arnold had used the public wagons of Pennsylvania for pri 
 vate purposes. The mitigating circumstance in this instance 
 was, that their use was paid for at private expense. 
 
 1779, 
 
 to an irritable conscience, than when wield 
 ed by the hand of the commarider-in-chief 
 on this occasion. When Arnold appeal ed 
 before him, Washington addressed him 
 gravely but kindly, saying : " Our profes 
 sion is the chastest of all. Even the shad 
 ow of a fault tarnishes the lustre of our 
 finest achievements. The least inadver 
 tence may rob us of the public favor, so 
 hard to be acquired. I reprimand you 
 for having forgotten that, in proportion 
 as you had rendered yourself formidable 
 to your eneuiies, you should have been 
 guarded and temperate in your deport 
 ment toward your fellow-citizens. Ex 
 hibit anew those noble qualities which 
 have placed you on the list of our most 
 distinguished commanders. I will furnish 
 you, as far as it may be in my power, with 
 opportunities of regaining the esteem of 
 your conn try." 
 
 Arnold s conscience, however, like an 
 ulcerated sore when exposed to the pure 
 air of heaven, was only the more inflamed 
 by these gentle words of the pure and up 
 right Washington. He was maddened to 
 rage, and spared no one, from command- 
 er-in-chief to subaltern, all of whom he 
 charged with envy of his own brilliant 
 military fame. He had already, under an 
 assumed name, opened a correspondence 
 with the enemy, but hesitated to take the 
 last and basest step of overt treason un 
 til he had exhausted every other resource 
 for the supply of his greedy prodigality. 
 Nearly four years before Arnold s defec 
 tion, Colonel Brown, denouncing him in 
 a handbill, used these memorable words: 
 " Money is this man s God, and to yet cnouyli 
 of ii he would sacrifice his couniry /" 
 
760 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 II. 
 
 Shortly after his trial, Arnold renewed 
 a petition to Congress for a settlement of 
 his accounts, in which he made claims for 
 an exorbitant balance in his favor. He 
 was pertinacious, but his demands were 
 evidently so unjust, that neither his ene 
 mies, disgusted with his effrontery, nor 
 his friends, wearied with his importunity, 
 were disposed to listen further to his ap 
 peals. 
 
 Yet Arnold was sinned against. Many 
 officers were envious of his deserved rep 
 utation as a soldier. He had been made 
 to feel the shafts of their envy in many 
 ways. The very men who had conspired 
 against Washington, in 1777 and 1778, 
 were most prominent in opposition to Ar 
 nold ; and the same faction in Congress 
 withheld deserved honors from him. With 
 contracted vision he saw, in the conduct 
 of these individuals, the ingratitude of his 
 country; and the resentment which he 
 felt toward them he extended to the 
 cause, and all engaged in it. This feel 
 ing, and the hope of large pecuniary re 
 ward, by which he might relieve himself 
 of heavy and increasing embarrassments, 
 seemed to have extinguished every spark 
 of patriotism, and beckoned him to the 
 bad pre-eminence of a mercenary traitor.* 
 
 Arnold, in his desperation,now resorted 
 to the expedient of appealing for a loan 
 of money to the French envoy, Monsieur 
 de la Luzerne (the successor of M. Ge 
 rard), with whom he was on terms of so 
 cial intimacy in Philadelphia. The gener 
 al spoke of his disinterested services, his 
 sacrifices, his wounds; he complained of 
 the ingratitude of his country, the injus- 
 
 * Lossin<r. 
 
 tice of Congress, and the persecuting mal 
 ice of his enemies. He declared that his 
 fortune had been ruined by the war, and 
 that, unless he could borrow sufficient 
 money to pay his debts, he would be com 
 pelled to go into retirement, and quit a 
 profession which rewarded him only with 
 poverty. He finally intimated to M. de 
 Luzerne that it would be for the interest 
 of his king to secure the attachment of 
 an American officer so high in rank, and 
 that it might be done for the amount of 
 the loan asked !* 
 
 The French minister, a man of great 
 honor and just sentiments, although an 
 admirer of Arnold s talents, could not ap 
 prove of such a method of raising money, 
 and in his reply administered a mild but 
 firm rebuke. " You desire of me a ser 
 vice," he said, "which it would be easy 
 for me to render, but which would de 
 grade us both. When the envoy of a for 
 eign power gives, or, if you will, lends 
 money, it is ordinarily to corrupt those 
 who receive it, and to make them the crea 
 tures of the sovereign whom he serves ; 
 or rather he corrupts without persuading; 
 he buys, and does not secure. But the 
 firm league entered into between the king 
 and the United States is the work of jus 
 tice and of the wisest policy. It has for 
 its bases a reciprocal interest and good 
 will. In the mission with which I am 
 charged, my true glory consist in fulfil 
 ling it without intrigue or cabal, without 
 resorting to any secret practices, and by 
 the force alone of the conditions of the 
 alliance." 
 
 To this somewhat formal manifesto of 
 
 * Sparks. 
 
REV OLUTIONARY.] 
 
 MAJOR JOHN ANDRE. 
 
 761 
 
 political principle, Monsieur de Luzerne 
 freely added some moral advice. Arnold, 
 however, "wanted money, not advice;" 
 and, not getting it, from either America 
 or France, he was determined upon ob 
 taining it from Great Britain. He now 
 made the last desperate move, and, hav 
 ing lost himself, staked his country upon 
 the issue. He renewed his correspond 
 ence with the enemy, which had been 
 opened with intentional vagueness, that 
 he might continue or terminate it, as cir 
 cumstances should prompt. 
 
 The command of West Point, which 
 Arnold secured, as we have seen, gave 
 him the means he sought for consumma 
 ting his treason. His departure from 
 Philadelphia was not regretted, as his ar 
 bitrary temper, his pretentious bearing, 
 and his corrupt conduct, had made him 
 so much detested and so unpopular, that 
 he hardly dared to show himself in the 
 streets. On one occasion he was assault 
 ed by the populace ; and, having com 
 plained to Congress, he demanded a guard 
 of continental troops for his protection, 
 saying, " This request, I presume, will not 
 be denied to a man who has so often 
 fought and bled in the defence of -his 
 country." Congress, however, did not or 
 der the guard, but referred him for pro 
 tection to the governor of Pennsylvania. 
 
 Arnold found, in the correspondence 
 of his w r ife with Major Andre, a conveni 
 ent means of opening a communication 
 with the enemy. His advances to Sir 
 Henry Clinton were accordingly made 
 through this channel. He wrote his let 
 ters in a disguised hand, and under the 
 assumed name of " Gustavux ;" while his 
 96 
 
 correspondent, Major Andre, took that of 
 "Jo/in Anderson." To avoid detection, the 
 true meaning of the letters was disguised 
 under the cover of a commercial corre 
 spondence, in which mercantile phrases 
 apparently expressed trading -purposes. 
 Arnold warily avoided committing his 
 own name to paper; but Sir Henry Clin 
 ton, from the beginning, discovered that 
 his correspondent was an American officer 
 of influence, and was soon convinced that 
 "Gustavus" was no less a personage than 
 Major-General BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 Adjutant-General Major JOHN ANDRE, 
 the British agent who bore so important 
 a part in this dark transaction, was born 
 in London, in 1751, whither his parents, 
 who were Swiss, had removed from Gene 
 va. Originally intended for a merchant, 
 he was placed in early youth in a London 
 countinghouse,and before he had reached 
 his eighteenth year fell in love with Miss 
 Honora Sneyd. She returned his affec 
 tion ; but her cautious father, seeing but 
 little prospect of young Andre s advance 
 ment in his career, refused his consent to 
 their marriage. The lover now sought 
 a relief for his disappointment in the ex 
 citement of a military life; while his "dear 
 Honora" consoled herself by becoming the 
 second wife of " that man of many wives/ 
 Richard Lovell Edgeworth,* a young wid- 
 
 * RICHARD LOVKLL EDGEWOUTH, of Edgeworthtown, 
 Ireland, was born at Bath, in England, in 1744. Possessing 
 a large fortune, he devoted much of his time to agricultural 
 improvements, as well as to the amelioration of the exist 
 ing modes of education, by writing, in conjunction with his 
 highly-gifted daughter, many useful works. He also wrote 
 his own " Memoirs ;" and, among his various mechanical in 
 ventions, was a telegraph. Mr. Edgeworth was innrrii-d 
 three times. His first wife was the mother of Miss Maria 
 Edgeworth ; his second spouse was Miss Sneyd, Andre s 
 "dear Honora;" and his third was Elizabeth Sneyd, whom 
 
762 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 ower of only twenty-six, and the father of 
 the celebrated Miss Edge worth.* Andre 
 continued to cherish a sentimental affec 
 tion for his lost beauty ; and his corre 
 spondence with Anna Seward/j" of L itch- 
 field, and of Johnsonian celebrity, who 
 was a bosom friend of Miss Sneyd, was 
 filled with tender allusions to " Honor;)," 
 
 he married "just seven months and twenty-five days after 
 the death of Honora." He died in 1817, at the age of sev 
 enty-two years. 
 
 * MARIA EDGEWORTH, the celebrated Irish novelist, 
 whose works have had great influence in promoting the 
 cause of education and of social morality, was born in Ox 
 fordshire, England, in 1766 She commenced her career as 
 an authoress about 1800, and in her early literary efforts she 
 was greatly assisted by the advice of her father. The fa 
 mous "Essay on Irish Bulls," the joint production of her 
 self and her father, was published in 1801. Her "Castle 
 llackrent" abounds in admirable sketches of Irish life and 
 manners. Her " Belinda," a novel of real life and ordinary 
 characters, is also descriptive of some of the striking traits 
 of the Irish character. In 1804, she published Iter "Popu 
 lar Tales ;" and two years afterward, " Leonora," a novel in 
 two volumes. In 1809, she issued "Tales of Fashionable 
 Life," of a more powerful and varied cast than any of her 
 previous productions. Three other volumes of " Fashion 
 able Tales" appeared in 1812, and fully sustained the high 
 reputation which she had now attained. In 1814, her nova] 
 of " Patronage" was published. For many years, indeed, 
 literary composition formed the chief business of her life. 
 Originality and fertility of invention, and a power of depict 
 ing Irish manners unequalled among modern authors, are 
 her chief characteristics as a novelist. She died in 1849, in 
 the eighty-fourth year of her age. 
 
 t ANNA SEWAKD, daughter of the Ilev. Thomas Seward, 
 himself a poet, and the author of an edition of Beaumont 
 and Fletcher, was born at Eyam, in Derbyshire, England, 
 in 1747. She evinced a poetical taste in early life. In 1782, 
 she published her poetical romance of " Louisa ;" and she 
 subsequently printed a collection of sonnets, and a "Life 
 of Dr. Darwin," in which she asserted her claim to the first 
 fifty lines of that author s "Botanic Garden." She died 
 in 1809. 
 
 as were his occasional verses, in which a 
 ready faculty at turning a rhyme led him 
 to indulge. 
 
 Receiving a commission of lieutenant 
 in the British army, his first service was 
 in Canada, where he was taken prisoner, 
 on the fall of St. Johns, in 1775, and 
 "stripped of everything," as he wrote to 
 a friend, " except the picture of Honora, 
 which I concealed in my mouth." 
 
 Being exchanged in the course of the 
 war, Andre rejoined the army, and by 
 merit alone (for he had no powerful pa 
 tronage at home to advance his interests) 
 he rapidly rose in rank, became a captain, 
 and was appointed by Major-General Sir 
 Charles Grey (father of Lord Grey, the 
 distinguished statesman) his aid-de-camp. 
 Andre was a man of versatile talent; he 
 was by turns soldier, poet, musician, and 
 painter, and his qualifications were set off 
 with the advantage of a handsome person 
 and amiable manners. After General Grey 
 returned to Europe, Sir Henry Clinton 
 received Andre as his aid-de-camp, and 
 was so impressed with his abilities, that, 
 upon the resignation of Lord Rawdon, he 
 appointed him adjutant-general. After 
 some reluctance on the part of the British 
 prime minister, who objected to Andre s 
 youth, he was finally promoted to the 
 rank of major, and confirmed in his office 
 as adjutant, at the early age of twenty- 
 nine. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ARNOLD AND SIR HENRY CLINTON. 
 
 763 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXVII. 
 
 Treasonable Correspondence renewed. General Arnold at West Point. Major Andre chosen. Failure. A Bare Es 
 cape. Washington out of the Way. An Artful Ruse. Washington en Route to Hartford. A Startling Remark. 
 Communication with the British Sloop Vulture. "John Anderson." A Change of Mind. A Flag of Truce fired 
 
 upon. A Remonstrance and a Ruse. Joshua Hett Smith. The White House. A Postponement. Difficulties. 
 
 Reluctant Boatmen. Boarding the Vulture. Interview between Arnold and Andre. Impatience. Unfinished Busi 
 ness. A Startling Reflection. 
 
 1780, 
 
 SIR HENRY CLINTON, although he 
 studiously kept up his communica 
 tions, through Major Andre, with his un 
 declared correspondent, whom he had no 
 doubt was General Arnold, was not impa 
 tient to complete his bargain until the 
 traitor had something more valuable to 
 offer than himself. It was not, therefore, 
 until Arnold was in command of West 
 Point, that Clinton cared to bring to a 
 final issue the base negotiation which had 
 now been going on for nearly eighteen 
 months. 
 
 West Point, with its important position, 
 its armament, garrison, and stores, was an 
 object worth purchasing ; and the British 
 commander was at last prepared to make 
 his bargain with the military Judas, who 
 was eager to clutch the " pieces of silver." 
 Arnold, in his letters, had expressed an 
 earnest desire to have apersonal interview 
 with some one " of his own mensuration," 
 as he said, evidently with the purpose of 
 securing the payment of his price. Sir 
 Henry had thought of some one else ; but 
 General Arnold having insisted on Major 
 Andre being sent, that young officer con 
 sented to go. The great difficulty now 
 was, to effect an interview without exci 
 
 ting suspicion. Arnold s fertility of craft 
 was equal to the occasion. 
 
 The first attempt, nevertheless, failed. 
 Andre, accompanied by Colonel Beverly 
 Robinson, now as a confederate, had come 
 to Dobbs s ferry, in order to meet Arnold, 
 as he had appointed ; but the traitor him 
 self, after coining down the river in his 
 barge, and passing the night at Smith s 
 house, near King s ferry, was, upon at 
 tempting next morning to reach the ren 
 dezvous (being unprovided with a flag), 
 fired upon by the British gun-boats. His 
 barge was so closely pursued, that Arnold 
 barely escaped losing his life or being cap 
 tured ; and, after another unsuccessful ef 
 fort to obtain an interview, he returned 
 to the Robinson house, and Andre and 
 his companion to New York. To explain 
 his passage down the Hudson, which be 
 came generally known, Arnold took care 
 to write to Washington, stating that his 
 object had been to establish signals and 
 give directions about the guard-boats. 
 
 As Washington was about proceeding 
 to Hartford, to hold a conference with 
 Count de Rochambeau and the French 
 officers in regard to a proposed campaign, 
 and would cross King s ferry on his route, 
 
764 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART II. 
 
 Arnold was careful to put off any inter 
 view until the commander-in-chief was 
 out of the way. Sir Henry Clinton, how 
 ever, disappointed at the failure of the sev 
 eral previous attempts, sent the sloop-of- 
 war Vulture, with Colonel Robinson on 
 board, to anchor up the river near Tel 
 ler s Point, and thus be at hand to facili 
 tate a meeting. Robinson immediately 
 wrote a letter, artfully addressed to Gen 
 eral Putnam, as if thinking that he was 
 in command at the Highlands, and asked 
 for a personal conference on private busi 
 ness. This letter was enclosed in anoth 
 er addressed to Arnold, in which the same 
 favor was solicited from him in case Put 
 nam should be absent. This artful ruse of 
 the two addresses, and the careful word 
 ing of the letters, removed any chance of 
 suspicion in case they should fall into the 
 hands of others than Arnold. 
 
 These letters were delivered 
 on the very day that Washington 
 had set out on his journey to Hartford, 
 and Arnold had read and held them in 
 his pocket at the time he was convey 
 ing the commander-in-chief in his bar<>-e 
 
 O 
 
 across the river to Verplanck s Point. 
 The Vulture was lying in full view ; and 
 while Washington was looking at the ves 
 sel, and speaking in a low tone of voice, 
 Arnold was observed to manifest some 
 uneasiness, although its cause was not sus 
 pected. As Count de Guichen s squadron 
 was expected daily from the West Indies, 
 it naturally became the topic of conversa 
 tion. Lafayette, merely alluding to the 
 free communication between New York 
 and West Point, and frequent opportuni 
 ties of intelligence, startled Arnold with 
 
 Sept, 18. 
 
 the remark, " General, since you have a 
 correspondence with the enemy, you must 
 ascertain as soon as possible what has be 
 come of Guichen." The traitor, evident 
 ly for a moment thrown off his guard, ab 
 ruptly demanded what he meant, but soon 
 recovered his self-control and dropped the 
 subject.* 
 
 While Arnold was accompanying the 
 general-in-chief to Peekskill, he showed 
 him the letters written by Colonel Rob 
 inson ; and, not suspecting their real pur 
 pose, Washington recommended Arnold 
 not to hold the proposed conference, as 
 Robinson s object, which was supposed to 
 have reference to his property, was one 
 that belonged properly to the civil and 
 not to the military jurisdiction. 
 
 Little did the commander-in-chief sus 
 pect that the brave officer now escorting 
 him, w r ho had served his country with so 
 much zeal and gallantry, and who at that 
 interview handed him a written opinion 
 concerning the propriety of an attack on 
 New York, based upon statements which 
 he had received from his chief, of the con 
 dition and prospects of the American ar 
 my, was about to betray that army and 
 his country, and to make use of that very 
 statement as one of the instruments of 
 his treason. The very paper containing 
 this statement, which Washington had 
 sent to Arnold (as to others of his general 
 officers), was one of those afterward taken 
 from Andre s boot >}- 
 
 Arnold now had an opportunity, of 
 which he gladly availed himself, of an 
 open communication with the Vulture. 
 A personal conference with Colonel Rob- 
 
 * Sparks. f Lossing. 
 
R H VOLUTION AKY.] 
 
 ANDRE AND THE SLOOP VULTURE. 
 
 765 
 
 inson, however, after Washington s de 
 cided objection, was no longer thought 
 of; but there was no difficulty in com 
 municating with him by letter. Arnold 
 accordingly sent openly to the Vulture, 
 by an officer in a flag-boat, a sealed pack 
 et which contained three letters, in the 
 outer one of which he stated, in general 
 terms, that he had consulted with the 
 commander-in-chief, who disapproved of 
 Robinson s proposition. The second ex 
 plicitly stated that on the night of the 
 20th of September he would send a per 
 son to Dobbs s ferry, or on board the Vul 
 ture (which was requested to be kept 
 where she then was), who would be fur 
 nished with a boat and a flag of truce, 
 and whose secrecy and honor might be 
 depended upon. In a postscript he thus 
 artfully gave the appearance of public 
 business as his object, and information of 
 the time when Washington intended to 
 return : " I expect General Washington 
 to lodge here on Saturday night next, 
 and I will lay before him any matter you 
 may wish to communicate."* There was 
 also enclosed a third letter, which was a 
 copy of one previously sent to "John An 
 derson" appointing a place and time of 
 meeting Major Andre at Dobbs s ferry. 
 
 On the morning after Sir Henry Clin 
 ton received these letters, which were im 
 mediately despatched to him, Andre set 
 
 oil and went to Dobbs s ferry, 
 
 Sept, 20, 
 
 receiving as his last instructions 
 
 from the British commander, not to go 
 into the American line, not to disguise 
 himself, and not on any account to receive pa 
 per?. ] I was in fact supposed that Arnold 
 
 * Sparks. 
 
 himself, although speaking of a third par 
 ty, intended to go on board the Vulture, 
 and there settle the terms of his bargain 
 in person. 
 
 Andre, arriving at a late hour at Dobbs s 
 ferry, where it was originally his inten 
 tion to have requested the commander to 
 drop down with his vessel, changed his 
 mind, and took a boat, in which he sailed 
 up the river and boarded the Vulture at 
 seven o clock in the evening. Here lie 
 remained all night, anxiously expecting 
 every moment the arrival of Arnold ; but, 
 as the latter did not come, he beo;an to 
 
 7 O 
 
 fear that the whole project would fail. 
 Thinking that Arnold, possibly unaware 
 of his having got on board the Vulture, 
 might be expecting him at Dobbs s ferry, 
 Andre took an occasion which accident 
 ally offered of giving him information of 
 his whereabouts. A flag of truce havin- 
 
 o o 
 
 been shown at Teller s Point, apparently 
 inviting a communication with the ship 
 for some purpose or other, a flag-boat was 
 sent off; but as it approached the land, it 
 was fired upon. The captain now sent a 
 second boat with a flag, to remonstrate ; 
 and Andre (in order that Arnold might 
 
 \ O 
 
 infer that he was on board the Vulture) 
 penned the letter of remonstrance, though 
 it was dictated and signed by Captain 
 Sutherland. 
 
 Colonel Livingston, in command of the 
 American post at Verplanck s Point, re 
 ceived the letter, and handed it 
 to General Arnold, who had ar 
 rived there just as the Vulture s boat was 
 returning. The latter recognised Andre s 
 handwriting at once, and, making the in 
 ference intended by the writer, prepared 
 
 Sept, 21 
 
766 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 to send to the Vulture on the coming 
 night. 
 
 Arnold had succeeded in securing the 
 services of a Mr. Joshua Hett Smith, a 
 gentleman of reputable standing, and one 
 who, by various patriotic acts, had given 
 proof of his attachment to the republican 
 cause. His residence, the " White house," 
 as it was called, was situated on the west 
 side of the Hudson, in Haverstraw bay, 
 about two miles below Stony Point, and 
 was conveniently placed for Arnold s pro 
 posed interview with Andre. 
 
 Smith had consented to board the Vul 
 ture in the night, and bring on shore the 
 person whom he would find there, and 
 moreover to allow his house (for which 
 purpose he had removed his family to 
 Fishkill) to be used as the place of ren 
 dezvous. Provided by Arnold with an or 
 der upon Major Kierse, the quartermaster 
 at Stony Point, for a boat, the usual pass 
 for a flag of truce, and letters for the Vul 
 ture, Smith was to have executed his com 
 mission on the night of the 20th of Sep 
 tember. Various difficulties, however, 
 were in the way. The boat could not be 
 readily obtained ; and a tenant of Smith, 
 one Samuel Colquhoun, who had been 
 urged to go with him, refused on account 
 of his dread of the guard-boats. The affair 
 was accordingly postponed. 
 
 The nextmorning, Arnold pro 
 ceeded down the Hudson to Ver- 
 planck s Point, where, as we have seen, 
 he had read the remonstrance of Captain 
 Sutherland of the Vulture.and recognised 
 
 O 
 
 the handwriting of Andre. He now de 
 termined to secure the accomplishment 
 of his purpose by his own personal efforts. 
 
 Crossing over to Stony Point, and finding 
 no boat there, he sent an officer in his 
 barge to obtain one at " Continental vil 
 lage." Leaving orders with Major Kierse 
 to have it brought down to Haverstraw 
 creek, Arnold in the meanwhile proceed 
 ed to Smith s house. 
 
 The American guard-boats had been 
 ordered not to interfere with Smith, as he 
 was employed by the general to obtain 
 important intelligence, and the watch 
 word " Congress" was agreed upon to se 
 cure the recognition of his boat. The only 
 difficulty now was to obtain the services 
 of a boatman. Samuel Colquhoun still 
 refused to go, as did likewise his brother. 
 Smith s appeals were all in vain; and even 
 Arnold could not succeed in overcoming 
 their scruples until he threatened, if they 
 persisted in their obstinacy, and refused 
 to give their assistance when required for 
 the c/ood of the count) //, to arrest them as dis 
 affected persons ! They now no longer re 
 sisted, and were further encouraged in 
 their obedience to Arnold s peremptory 
 orders by the promise of fifty pounds of 
 flour to each.* 
 
 "It was half-past eleven o clock in the 
 night," says Sparks, of whose careful col 
 lation of the incidents we have freely 
 availed ourselves, " when Smith and his 
 two boatmen arrived at the landing, near 
 the mouth of Haverstraw creek, to which 
 place Major Kierse had sent the boat. 
 They muffled the oars by General Ar 
 nold s directions. The night was tran 
 quil and serene, the stars shone brightly, 
 the water was unruffled except by the 
 gentle current, which was hardly percep- 
 
 * It was never jrivcu. 
 
it K VOLUTION ARY.] THE MIDNIGHT MEETING OF ARNOLD AND ANDRE. 
 
 767 
 
 Andre was so completely wrapped in 
 i blue overcoat, that his uniform could 
 not be seen ; and Smith always declared 
 that he had no idea at that time that he 
 was any one else than " Mr. John Ander 
 son," a plain citizen, who was acting in 
 behalf of Robinson. Smith and Andre 
 now descended into the boat alongside, 
 where the boatmen had remained, and 
 were rowed in silence to the shore. Here 
 they landed, about midnight, at the base 
 of a mountain called Long Clove, six miles 
 below Stony Point. 
 
 Arnold had come down on horseback 
 from Smith s house, accompanied by a 
 servant, and stood hidden in a thicket 
 near the landing, awaiting the arrival of 
 the boat. As soon as Smith had stepped 
 ashore, he groped his way up the bank 
 in search of Arnold, and, having discov 
 ered him, came back to guide Andre to 
 the place, where, being requested to do 
 so, he left them. 
 
 The boatmen, wearied and unsuspicious, 
 soon fell asleep ; but Smith, anxiously in 
 quisitive, and disappointed that he was 
 not allowed to be present at the inter 
 view, passed the tedious midnight hour 
 in wakeful impatience. His powers of 
 endurance finally gave out; so he made 
 his way through the bushes to the busy 
 plotters, and, reminding them that the 
 night was nearly past, declared that the 
 boat could not be kept much longer. Ar 
 nold, finding that his work was not yet 
 done, told Smith that he need remain no 
 longer. The latter accordingly aroused 
 the boatmen, and proceeded up the river 
 with the boat; while Arnold, accompanied 
 by Andre who mounted the servant s 
 
 tible in that wide part of the river, and 
 the boat glided along silently, without 
 being discovered or meeting with any 
 hinderance, till they were hailed by a 
 hoarse seaman s voice from the Vulture, 
 inquiring who they were, and whither 
 bound. Smith answered that they were 
 from King s ferry, and on their way to 
 Dobbs s ferry. 
 
 "The boat was immediately ordered 
 alongside ; and a torrent of uncourtly 
 epithets, peculiar to the sailor s vocabula 
 ry, was poured out upon them for presu 
 ming to approach one of his majesty s 
 ships under the cover of darkness." 
 
 Smith in the meantime clambered up 
 the sloop s side, and a boy came up from 
 below, where the noise had been heard, 
 with orders that he should be shown into 
 the cabin. Smith, upon entering, imme 
 diately recognised Colonel Beverly Rob 
 inson, whom he had known before, and 
 gave him Arnold s letter. 
 
 Smith was under the impression that 
 Robinson was the person whom he was 
 to bring ashore ; and accordingly, when 
 Major Andre, under the name of Mr. John 
 AndcrsoiijWds presented, Colonel Robinson 
 gave as his reason for not going himself 
 that he was in ill health, but stated that 
 his friend would answer the same purpose. 
 Andre, it would seem, had insisted upon 
 going, in accordance with the request of 
 Arnold, although Robinson strenuously 
 
 7 . o / 
 
 objected to his trusting himself to a man 
 who was so unprincipled as to betray his 
 country. So_ eager, however, was Andre 
 to accomplish his purpose, that he seemed 
 to be entirely unconscious of all danger 
 attending its accomplishment. 
 
7(38 
 
 BATTLES OP^ AMERICA. 
 
 fPART II. 
 
 }, orse rode to Smith s house, three or 
 four miles distant. It was not until, in 
 the course of their ride through Haver- 
 straw village, on being challenged in the 
 dark by a sentinel, that Andre was con 
 
 scious of his being within the American 
 lines. For a moment, the peril of his po 
 sition startled him; but. nerving himself, 
 he rode on by the side of his desperate 
 associate. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXVIII. 
 
 A Sudden Cannonade. Alarm of the Conspirators. Anxious Watching. Small Gun. Momentous Effect. Negotia 
 tions continued between Arnold and Andre. Settlement of the Price of Treason. Completion of the Bargain. All 
 ready. Departure of Andre. No Boat. Journey by Land. His Adventures. The Challenge. An Inquisitive 
 Captain. Fear of the Cow-Boys. Two in a Bed. Return of Cheerfulness. A Good Housewife. Change of Route. 
 A Sudden Surprise. Fallen among Enemies. The Search. " My God, a Spy!" The Captors. "Not Ten Thou 
 sand Guineas!" Despair of Andr6. Blunder of Jameson. Arnold on his Guard. 
 
 1780, 
 
 IT was just at daybreak when 
 Arnold and Andre pulled up their 
 horses at Smith s house ; and they had 
 hardly dismounted, when a severe can 
 nonade broke upon the stillness of the 
 early morning. Engaged in a dark and 
 dangerous business, the two conspirators 
 were intensely alive to the least alarm ; 
 and, on discovering that the firing was 
 against the sloop-of-war Vulture, their 
 anxieties became fearfully excited. An 
 dre, from the window of the house, which 
 commanded a view of the river, watched 
 each new development of the scene with 
 breathless interest. He continued to look 
 on in silence, and with an evident expres 
 sion of anxiety, which did not leave him 
 until he saw that the ship, by moving far 
 ther down the river, was beyond the reach 
 of cannon-shot. 
 
 Colonel Livingston, the commander at 
 Verplanck s Point, had discovered on the 
 previous day that the Vulture was so close 
 
 to Teller s Point that she might be reached 
 by cannon-shot from the shore, and had 
 accordingly sent down a four-pounder to 
 the river-bank for that purpose. He had 
 asked General Arnold for heavier guns, 
 but was put off by some frivolous excuse, 
 and was obliged to do his best with what 
 he had. Colonel Lamb had sent Livings 
 ton some ammunition for the occasion, 
 but could not forbear saying, as he grudg 
 ingly supplied it, " Firing at a ship with 
 a four-pounder is, in my opinion, a waste 
 of powder." Livingston s small gun, how 
 ever, had a momentous effect; and the 
 Vulture, as we have seen, was forced to 
 weigh her anchor and move down the 
 river. 
 
 The firing having ceased, Andre recov 
 ered his usual gay spirits ; and, after par 
 taking of breakfast, he and Arnold were 
 again left alone by Smith, in order to com 
 plete their project of treason. It is sup 
 posed that Arnold first insisted upon set- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE PLOT COMPLETED. ANDRE ON HIS RETURN. 
 
 769 
 
 tling the price; when it was agreed that 
 he should receive ten thousand pounds in 
 money, and the rank of brigadier-general 
 in the British army. Andre was now sup 
 plied with accurate plans of West Point, 
 and exact reports of its strength in guns 
 and men. Through the sound judgment 
 and forethought of Washington, and the 
 skill of French engineers, this post had 
 been very strongly fortified, and present 
 ed a most formidable barrier to British 
 incursions northward from New York. A 
 strong garrison was placed in each of the 
 forts, under the command of General Rob 
 ert Howe. Immense stores and muni 
 tions of war had also been collected there. 
 In the vaults of one of the forts, besides 
 the ammunition for its own defence, the 
 stock of powder for the whole army was 
 lodged. 
 
 After the trial and conviction of Ar 
 nold for his misdeeds at Philadelphia, his 
 pride would not allow him to enter the 
 British army as a deserter, and he there 
 fore resolved to rejoin that of Washing 
 ton ; pretend a forgetfulness of what he 
 deemed the injustice of Congress ; obtain, 
 if possible, the command of the most im 
 portant post held by the Americans, and 
 then betray it, with its arms, and, garri 
 sons, and stores, into the hands of the en 
 emy. In this manner, he would gratify 
 his thirst for revenge, and obtain a large 
 personal reward for his treason. His suc 
 cess in securing the desired appointment 
 we have already related ; and now, in the 
 absence of the ever-vigilant chief upon 
 his conference with Count de Rochambeau 
 at Hartford, the arch-traitor proposed to 
 carry his perfidious scheme into immedi- 
 97 
 
 Sept, 25, 
 
 ate execution. He promised so to dispose 
 the garrison as to weaken the post as 
 much as possible b}^ the dispersion of the 
 troops, and gave Andre a paper in which 
 the proposed disposition was accurately 
 described. Washington had intended to 
 leave West Point for Hartford on the 17th 
 of September, but he was detained, and 
 did not set out until the 20th. As he 
 was expected to return from the latter 
 place and be at Arnold s headquarters on 
 the 25th, Andre also conceived the bold 
 project of capturing the American chief 
 and his suite on that day. 
 
 Before noon, the whole business was 
 arranged between the conspirators. The 
 time was now appointed for the 
 delivery of the fortress ; and as 
 Sir Henry Clinton had his troops already 
 embarked, under the feint of despatching 
 them to the Chesapeake, he only awaited 
 the return of Andre, to sail up the Hud 
 son, and by the easy capture of West Point 
 to consummate the deed which had been 
 planned by the artful Arnold. 
 
 The great point now was, for Andre to 
 return to New York. He insisted that 
 he should be put on board the Vulture, 
 to which Arnold agreed ; but the latter 
 evidently entertained some doubt of its 
 feasibility, for, on quitting Smith s house 
 (about ten o clock in the morning), he 
 wrote three passports, two of which were 
 intended for a land-route. The passports 
 were given to Smith, drawn as follows : 
 
 1. "Joshua Smith has permission to 
 pass with a boat and three hands, and a 
 flag, to Dobbs s ferry, on public business, 
 and to return immediately." 
 
 2. "Joshua Smith has permission to 
 
770 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 pass the guards to the White Plains and 
 to return, he being on public business by 
 my direction." 
 
 3. " Permit Mr. John Anderson to pass 
 the guards to the White Plains, or below 
 if he chooses ; he being on public business 
 by my direction." 
 
 Before taking leave of his confederate, 
 Arnold strove to persuade Smith to put 
 Andre on board the Vulture. His efforts 
 were, however, in vain ; and, although he 
 suggested a land-route as the most safe 
 and convenient, he left Andre with the 
 impression that he was to be placed on 
 board the sloop. " Arnold quitted me," 
 said the major, " having himself made me 
 put the papers I bore between my stock 
 ings and feet. Whilst he did it, he ex 
 pressed a wish, in case of any accident be 
 falling me, that they should be destroyed ; 
 which I said would of course be the case, 
 as when I went into the boat I should 
 have them tied about with a string and 
 a stone. Before we parted, some mention 
 had been made of my crossing the river 
 and going another route ; but I objected 
 much against it, and thought it was set 
 tled that in the way I came I was to re 
 turn." 
 
 Audit?, however, could not persuade 
 Smith to take him to the ship, the latter 
 subsequently alleging, as his reason for 
 the refusal, that he had a fit of the ague, 
 and his health would not allow of his ex 
 posure in a boat. But it was, no doubt, 
 his fear of the danger to his life, in case 
 the Vulture (which had resumed her for 
 mer berth in the river) should be fired 
 upon from Teller s Point, that deterred 
 him from making the attempt to board 
 
 her. Andre had now no alternative but 
 to proceed by land. Smith promised to 
 accompany him until they should get be 
 yond the American posts. 
 
 At a little before sunset the two set 
 out, attended by a negro-servant. Andre 
 had taken off his military coat, and put 
 on a citizen s, one belonging to Smith, 
 over which, as before, he wore his dark- 
 blue overcoat, with a wide cape, buttoned 
 close to the neck. The young British 
 emissary was in no cheerful mood, as the 
 fact of his being in disguise within the 
 enemy s lines gave rise to reflections that 
 were by no means consolatory to the feel 
 ings of a brave and frank soldier. While 
 his companion stopped to pass a word of 
 greeting with a neighbor on the road, or 
 to join some acquaintances at the tavern 
 over a bowl of punch, Andre would walk 
 his horse ahead, and, when overtaken by 
 Smith, would barely open his lips to talk. 
 
 On crossing King s ferry, and passing 
 at dusk through the works at Verplanck s 
 Point, Smith called at Colonel Livings 
 ton s tent, and was invited to supper, but 
 Andre and the servant rode on. Smith, 
 however, declined the invitation which 
 he received, and soon overtook his com 
 panion. 
 
 They proceeded on their route with 
 out interruption, until they were chal 
 lenged, between eight and nine o clock, 
 by the sentinel of a patrol-guard, near 
 Crowpond, about eight miles from Ver 
 planck s Point. They were ordered to 
 stop, when Smith dismounted, and, giv 
 ing the bridle of his horse to his negro- 
 servant, walked forward and asked who 
 commanded the patrol. At this moment 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ADVENTUEES OF SMITH AND ANDRE. 
 
 Captain Boyd presented himself, declar 
 ing that he was the commander. 
 
 The captain was particularly inquisi 
 tive, but Smith answered all his questions 
 readily, and, saying that he had a pass 
 from General Arnold requested permis 
 sion to proceed at once. Boyd, however, 
 was not satisfied until he had conducted 
 the travellers to a house near by, where 
 (as it was dark) he could procure a light 
 to examine them and their passport more 
 minutely. Arnold s sign-manual satisfied 
 the captain that all was right, but he still 
 seemed very curious to know something 
 about the mysterious business they were 
 upon. Smith, in behalf of himself and 
 his fellow-traveller, Mr. Anderson, respond 
 ed to the questions as best he could, and 
 told his inquisitor generally that their ob 
 ject was to obtain intelligence, and that 
 the general had sent them to White Plains 
 to meet a person for that purpose. 
 
 Boyd now seemed only anxious for 
 their safety, and earnestly warned them 
 against the danger of travelling any far 
 ther that night, as the Cow-~boys were out, 
 and had advanced far up the country .* 
 Smith s courage was not proof against the 
 chance of a collision with these merciless 
 marauders, and he at once fell in with 
 Boyd s proposition to postpone the con 
 tinuance of their journey until the next 
 morning. Andre, however, was not so ea 
 sily persuaded, and would have gone on 
 at all events had he not found it irnpos- 
 
 * The Cow-hoys were desperate freebooters who infested 
 the " Neutral Ground" of Westdiester county, and were en- 
 frayed in plundering cattle, which they drove into New York. 
 The Cow-boys were lories ; while the Skinners, whose occu 
 pation was the same, and their character no better, generally 
 lived within the American lines, and professed themselves 
 friendly to the patriot cause. 
 
 771 
 
 sible to move his companion, who was un 
 alterably fixed in his resolve not to run 
 the risk of a night s rencontre with the 
 Coiv-boys. The travellers accordingly, at 
 the recommendation of Captain Boyd, re 
 traced their route a short distance, until 
 they reached the cottage of one Andreas 
 Miller, where they were hospitably re 
 ceived, but so humbly entertained, that 
 Andre and Smith were obliged to content 
 themselves with the same bed. 
 
 After passing a wakeful night within 
 the very embraces of his enemy, the Brit 
 ish major was up betimes in the morning, 
 in great eagerness to start. At the first 
 dawn of light, he roused the negro, and 
 ordered the horses to be got ready. After 
 thanking their host, who refused all com 
 pensation, they were soon in their sad 
 dles, and riding at good speed along the 
 road to Pine s bridge. 
 
 When Andre had got fairly beyond the 
 beat of the patrol, he for the first time 
 on the journey showed his natural cheer 
 fulness, and began to chat in the liveliest 
 manner, much to the surprise of Smith, to 
 whom he had hitherto appeared a remark 
 ably gloomy and taciturn companion. 
 
 Having arrived within two and a half 
 miles of Pine s bridge, on the Croton river, 
 they stopped to breakfast at a Dutch farm 
 house by the roadside. The good house 
 wife had lately suffered from an inroad 
 of the Cow-boys, who had plundered her 
 larder and depopulated her pastures, but 
 was able to serve her guests with some 
 hasty-pudding and milk. After refresh 
 ing themselves, Smith divided with Andre 
 the small sum of money he had in conti 
 nental bills, and took leave. The former 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 rode rapidly back on his way to Fishkill, 
 where his family had been removed, and 
 stopped to dine as he passed with General 
 Arnold, at the Robinson house, to whom 
 he reported the results of his journey. 
 
 Having crossed Pine s bridge, Andre 
 called to mind a remark of Captain Boyd, 
 who, in order to put the travellers on their 
 guard against danger, had said that the 
 Cow-loys (in the interest of "the lower" 
 party, or British) had been far up on the 
 Tarrytown road. He therefore resolved 
 to take this instead of the White-Plains 
 route, believing that, if more dangerous 
 to an American, it would probably prove 
 safer to an Englishman. Accordingly, ta 
 king the Tarrytown road, Andre pursued 
 it without interruption until he reached 
 a part where it crosses a brook 
 within half a mile of the village, 
 and about a dozen miles north of Kings- 
 bridge. 
 
 Here the young officer was riding along 
 in a cheerful mood, and indulging the 
 most pleasant anticipations of complete 
 success in his scheme, when three armed 
 men suddenly sprang out of the bushes 
 by the roadside ; and the foremost man, 
 putting his firelock to the breast of An 
 dre, and ordering him to stand, asked 
 which way he was going. " Gentlemen," 
 said Andre, " I hope you belong to our 
 party."" What party ?" asked the man. 
 " The lower party" was the immediate an 
 swer ; for Andre, observing that his inter 
 rogator had on a British refugee uniform, 
 believed that he was among his friends. 
 The men then declared that they also be 
 longed to the lower party ; when Andre 
 said, " I am a British officer, out of the 
 
 county on particular business, and I hope 
 you will not detain me a moment ;" and, 
 to show that he was of the importance 
 which he professed to be, he took out his 
 watch, which, being gold, was in those 
 days considered an evidence of superior 
 position.* 
 
 Andre was now ordered to dismount, 
 when he discovered that he had fallen, 
 not among friends, as he had supposed, 
 but among his enemies. "My God, I must 
 do anything to get along !" exclaimed the 
 captive, with a forced laugh, as he sought 
 to explain away what he had previously 
 said, and thereupon pulled out General 
 Arnold s pass : " Permit Mr. John Ander 
 son to pass the guards to the-White Plains, 
 or below, if he chooses ; he being on pub 
 lic business by my direction." 
 
 Andre was, however, compelled to dis 
 mount ; and, as he found that his captors 
 were disposed to cling to him, he said : 
 " Gentlemen, you had best let me go, or 
 you will bring yourselves into trouble ; 
 for your stopping me will detain the gen 
 eral s business" and explained that he 
 was going to Dobbs s ferry, to meet a per 
 son there, and get intelligence for General 
 Arnold. He was told that he must not 
 be offended, as nothing would be taken 
 from him ; and that, as many bad people 
 were going along the road, it was neces 
 sary to examine him. 
 
 They then took him into the bushes, 
 and ordered him to pull off his clothes, 
 which he did without hesitation, but no 
 papers were found. "His boots must come 
 off too /" said one ; but Andre, changing 
 
 */ f O O 
 
 color, objected, saying that they came ofl 
 
 * Irving. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] CAPTURE AND EXAMINATION OF ANDRE. 
 
 773 
 
 Sept, 23, 
 
 with difficulty, and begged that he might 
 be spared the trouble and delay. They, 
 however, persisted. One boot was pulled 
 off, and nothing found then the other; 
 when, some papers being felt in the bot 
 tom of his stocking, he was ordered to 
 pull off that, and three papers were found 
 in it. " My God, he is a spy !" was the 
 exclamation of one of the party, as he 
 cast his eyes hurriedly over the papers. 
 
 This one was JOHN PAULDING, and his 
 companions were DAVID WILLIAMS and 
 ISAAC VAN WART, three countrymen of 
 Westchester county. They belonged to 
 a party of seven persons, who had agreed 
 to set out on that morning, in 
 order to intercept any suspicious 
 travellers, or droves of cattle, with the 
 view of benefitting by a law of the state 
 of New York, and of a military custom, 
 which entitled American captors to the 
 possession of all property seized in that 
 way. Four of the seven had stationed 
 themselves on a hill, which commanded 
 a long view of the road ; while the other 
 three had taken their position under the 
 shelter of some bushes by the roadside, 
 where two were playing a game of cards, 
 and the third was standing guard, on the 
 lookout for travellers, when the British 
 emissary passed by. 
 
 When he found, by the exclamation of 
 Paulding, that his true character was dis 
 covered, Andre was ready to purchase his 
 escape at any price. Williams asked him 
 what he would give to be let go. " Any 
 sum of money," was his answer. Would 
 he give his horse, saddle, bridle, watch, 
 and one hundred guineas ? " Yes, all !" 
 Would he give more ? " Yes, any quan 
 
 tity of dry-goods, or any sum of money, 
 and bring it or send it to any spot which 
 you may select." "No! if you ivoidd give 
 us ten thousand guineas, you should not stir one 
 step r resolutely interposed Paulding. 
 
 Andre now gave up all hope, and, beg 
 ging that he might be asked no more 
 questions, mounted his horse, and allowed 
 himself to be led away a prisoner by his 
 captors, one of whom walked in front, 
 with his hand occasionally on the bridle, 
 and the others on either side. About noon 
 they stopped at a farmhouse, where the 
 family were at dinner. The good house 
 wife, struck with the sorrowful air of the 
 " poor gentleman," pressed him kindly to 
 take something to eat. As he refused, say 
 ing that he had no appetite, she, " glan 
 cing at his gold-laced crimson coat," apol 
 ogized for her humble fare. " Oh, mad 
 am," said Andre, in reply, with a shake 
 of the head, " it is all very good ; but, in 
 deed, I can not eat."* 
 
 The nearest military post belonging to 
 the Americans being at North Castle, the 
 prisoner was taken there, and, together 
 with the papers found upon his person, 
 delivered into the hands of the command 
 ant, Colonel Jameson. The documents, 
 which were in the handwriting of General 
 Arnold, without any attempt at disguise, 
 Jameson despatched to Washington ; but 
 Andre he sent under a guard, commanded 
 by Lieutenant Allen, to Arnold himself, 
 together with a letter, in which he stated 
 that the prisoner was a certain John An 
 derson, who had been captured on his way 
 to New York. " He had a passport," add 
 ed Jameson, " signed in your name ; and 
 
 * Irving. 
 
774 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 a parcel of papers taken from under his 
 stockings, which I think of a very dan 
 gerous tendency," and which the writer 
 took care to inform Arnold had been de 
 spatched to Washington. The conduct 
 
 of Jameson was most absurdly irrational, 
 granting, as every one does, that he was 
 innocent of having designedly put Arnold 
 upon his guard against the effects of his 
 treason, and thus enabled him to escape. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXIX. 
 
 The Astonished Tallmadge. A Diabolical Treason. The Prisoner brought back. The "Innocent" Arnold. Letter of 
 Major Andre to Washington. A Free Confession. An Agreeable Prisoner. The Return of Washington. Waiting 
 Breakfast. Young Men in Love. Coolness of Arnold. An Abrupt Departure. Mrs. Arnold senseless. Escape of 
 the Traitor. An Act of Meanness. Washington crosses the Hudson. No Salute ! Meeting with Colonel Hamilton. 
 An Important Packet. Astounding Developments. Prompt Action. Composure of Washington. A Letter from 
 Arnold. Sympathy for Mrs. Arnold. Her Tears and Ravings. Her Sincerity doubted. Mrs. Arnold at Philadel 
 phia. She joins her Husband. 
 
 1780, 
 
 Sept, 23, 
 
 WHEN Major Tallmadge,who was 
 Colonel Jameson s second in com 
 mand, returned in the evening to the post 
 at North Castle, whence he had been ab 
 sent during the day on duty, and 
 heard of the capture of "John An 
 derson" and of the disposition which had 
 been made of him,he was greatly astound 
 ed at the conduct of his superior. Tall- 
 rnadge had very little doubt, as soon as he 
 heard the story, that a diabolical treason 
 had been detected, and that General Ar 
 nold was the chief traitor. He frankly 
 expressed his opinion to that effect to 
 Jameson, and, urging him to take ener 
 getic measures accordingly, declared that 
 he was ready to assume the responsibil 
 ity of such action. 
 
 Jameson at first seemed to waver, but 
 finally, refusing to entertain^ any suspi 
 cion of the guilt of his commanding gen 
 eral, would do nothing which might indi 
 cate it. He nevertheless reluctantly con 
 
 sented to send for the prisoner ; not, how 
 ever, to keep him out of the hands of 
 Arnold, but to prevent his being retaken 
 by the enemy, of which there was some 
 danger, as a party of them were known 
 to be in the country " above." Jameson 
 accordingly despatched a messenger to 
 overtake Allen in all haste, with a note, 
 in which that officer was requested to 
 bring back his prisoner, with the guard. 
 and send on a courier with the letter to Arnold s 
 headquarters. 
 
 As soon as Major Andre was brought 
 back, Tallmadge was persuaded that he 
 was an officer, from the manner in which, 
 in striding back and forth in the room, 
 he turned upon his heel, ana from his 
 general military bearing. Jameson, too, 
 soon became of this opinion, but he still 
 obstinately persisted in believing Arnold 
 innocent. As North (or Lower) Salem, 
 about nine miles above North Castle, was 
 farther within the American lines, it was 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ANDRE WRITES TO WASHINGTON. 
 
 775 
 
 determined, for security s sake, to send 
 the prisoner to that place. 
 
 Major Tallmadge commanded the es 
 cort, and conveyed Andre to North Sa 
 lem, where, soon after his arrival, finding 
 that there was no prospect of his being 
 sent to Arnold, and conscious that the 
 papers found upon his person had been 
 transmitted to Washington, by which all 
 would soon be revealed, the captive wrote 
 this letter : 
 
 "SALEM, 24 September, 1780. 
 
 "Sin: What I have as yet said con 
 cerning myself was in the justifiable at 
 tempt to be extricated ; I am too little 
 accustomed to duplicity to have succeed 
 ed. 
 
 "I beg your excellency will be per 
 suaded that no alteration in the temper 
 of my mind, or apprehension for my safe 
 ty, induces me to take the step of addres 
 sing you ; but that it is to rescue myself 
 from an imputation of having assumed a 
 mean character for treacherous purposes 
 or self-interest 5 a conduct incompatible 
 with the principles that actuate me as 
 w r ell as with my condition in life. 
 
 " It is to vindicate my fame that I speak, 
 and not to solicit security. 
 
 " The person in your possession is Ma 
 jor JOHN ANDRE, adjutant-general to the 
 British army. 
 
 "The influence of one commander in 
 the army of his adversary is an advantage 
 taken in war. A correspondence for this 
 purpose I held ; as confidential (in the 
 present instance) with his excellency Sir 
 Henry Clinton. 
 
 "To favor it, I agreed to meet, upon 
 ground not within the posts of either ar 
 
 my, a person, who was to give me intel 
 ligence ; I came up in the Vulture man- 
 of-war for this effect, and was fetched by 
 a boat from the ship to the beach. Being 
 there. I was told that the approach of day 
 would prevent my return, and that I must 
 be concealed until the next night. I was 
 in my regimentals, and had fairly risked 
 my person. 
 
 " Against my stipulation, my intention, 
 and without my knowledge beforehand, 
 I w r as conducted within one of your posts. 
 Your excellency may conceive my sensa 
 tion on this occasion, and will imagine 
 how much more must I have been affect 
 ed by a refusal to reconduct me back the 
 next night as I had been brought. Thus 
 become a prisoner, I had to concert my 
 escape. I quitted my uniform, and was 
 passed another way in the night, without 
 the American posts, to neutral ground, 
 and informed I was beyond all armed par 
 ties, and left to press for New York. T 
 was taken at Tarrytown by some volun 
 teers. 
 
 " Thus, as I have had the honor to re 
 late, was I betrayed (being adjutant-gen 
 eral of the British army) into the vile con 
 dition of an enemy in disguise within your 
 posts. 
 
 " Having avowed myself a British offi 
 cer, I have nothing to reveal but what 
 relates to myself, which is true, on the 
 honor of an officer and a gentleman. 
 
 " The request I have to make to your 
 excellency, and I am conscious I addres? 
 myself well, is, that in any policy rigor 
 may dictate, a decency of conduct toward 
 me may mark, that, though unfortunate, 
 I am branded with nothing dishonorable, 
 
776 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 as no motive could be mine but the ser 
 vice of my king, and as I was involunta 
 rily an impostor. 
 
 " Another request is, that I may be per 
 mitted to write an open letter to Sir Henry 
 Clinton, and another to a friend for clothes 
 and linen. 
 
 " I take the liberty to mention the con 
 dition of some gentlemen at Charleston, 
 who, being either on parole or under pro 
 tection, were engaged in a conspiracy 
 against us. Though their situation is not 
 similar, they are objects who may be set 
 in exchange for me, or are persons whom 
 the treatment I receive might affect. 
 
 " It is no less, sir, in a confidence of the 
 generosity of your mind, than on account 
 of your superior station, that I have cho 
 sen to importune you with this letter. 
 
 " I have the honor to be, with great re 
 spect, sir, your excellency s most obedient 
 and most humble servant, 
 
 "JoiiN ANDRE, Adjutant-General 
 
 " His Excellency General WASHINGTON." 
 
 Andre immediately gave this letter to 
 Major Tallmadge to read, and, having as 
 sumed his real character, he regained his 
 usual cheerfulness of demeanor. Those 
 about him found him not only social and 
 communicative, but even exuberant of 
 gayety. Having refreshed himself by a 
 change of linen from the proffered toilet 
 of one of the American officers, the cap 
 tive felt and appeared like himself, and, 
 with his usual fertility of resource, con 
 tributed by his conversational talents and 
 other accomplishments to the enjoyment 
 of those who surrounded him. Taking 
 his pen, he began to exercise his skill at 
 sketching, and drew a humorous picture 
 
 of himself and his guard under march. 
 To Mr. Benson, a subaltern officer, whose 
 apartment he shared, he presented the 
 drawing, saying, " This will give you an 
 idea of the style in which I have had 
 the honor to be conducted to my present 
 abode." 
 
 Washington and his suite, it will be re 
 membered, had gone to Hartford, to con 
 fer with Count de Rochambeau and the 
 French admiral, and was accordingly ab 
 sent during the time when the occurren 
 ces which we have narrated took place. 
 Having been unable to effect anything of 
 importance by his conference, the com- 
 mander-in-chief had hastened back two 
 days sooner than he was expected by Ar 
 nold, and, having changed his route on 
 his return, reached Fishkill, only eighteen 
 miles from Arnold s headquarters, on the 
 very day when Sir Henry Clin 
 ton was to have sailed up the 
 Hudson to take possession of West Point. 
 Washington intended to have arrived at 
 Arnold s quarters (at the Robinson house) 
 the same night, and had actually set out ; 
 but, on riding two or three miles along 
 the road, he was met by the French min 
 ister, M. de la Luzerne, who was on his 
 way to visit Count de Rochambeau ; and, 
 as he expressed a great desire to converse 
 with the American chief on matters of 
 importance, he prevailed upon him to re 
 turn to Fishkill, wherG he spent the night. 
 
 Early on the following morn 
 ing, having sent forward the bag 
 gage, with a message to General Arnold 
 that they might be expected at breakfast, 
 Washington and his suite followed imme 
 diately on horseback. On arriving at a 
 
 Sept, 24, 
 
 Sept. 25, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] ARRIVAL OF WASHINGTON. ARNOLD S FLIGHT. 
 
 777 
 
 place opposite to West Point, and in the 
 immediate neighborhood of the Robinson 
 house, Washington turned his horse down 
 a road which led to the river. " General," 
 called out Lafayette, "you are going in 
 a wrong direction ; you know Mrs. Arnold 
 is waiting breakfast for us, and that road 
 will take us out of our way." "Ah !" re 
 plied Washington, laughingly,"! know 
 you young men are all in love with Mrs. 
 Arnold, and wish to get where she is as 
 soon as possible. You may go and take 
 your breakfast with her, and tell her not 
 to wait for me. I must ride down and 
 examine the redoubts on this side of the 
 river, and will be there in a short time." 
 The officers, however, remained with 
 Washington, with the exception of two 
 aids-de-camp, who were directed to go on 
 in advance, and explain the delay. On 
 the arrival of the aids at the Robinson 
 house, they found breakfast ready, and 
 General Arnold with his family waiting. 
 As Washington was not coming immedi 
 ately, they all sat down to the table ; but, 
 before they had finished, a messenger was 
 announced. He bore a letter for Arnold, 
 which he instantly opened and read while 
 at breakfast. The letter was from Colo 
 nel Jameson, at North Castle, written two 
 
 days before, and contained the 
 Sept, 23, ./ 
 
 intelligence 01 the capture or 
 
 "John Anderson" This was startling news 
 to Arnold. He suddenly turned pale, but 
 with wonderful self-control so stifled his 
 emotion as to excite no notice. Rising 
 from the table, the traitor coolly apolo 
 gized for his abrupt departure, by say 
 ing that he was suddenly sent for across 
 the river, and begged that the aids-de- 
 
 "&ev 
 98 
 
 camp would mention the circumstance to 
 Washington on his arrival. 
 
 As Arnold went out, he beckoned to 
 his wife to follow him. He had no time 
 to spare : so he abruptly told her, when 
 they reached her apartment, that he must 
 leave her, and perhaps for ever, as his life 
 depended upon his escape at that mo 
 ment. Mrs. Arnold no sooner heard her 
 husband s words, than she fell senseless 
 Hastily kissing her and their infant child, 
 Arnold hurried down the stairs, and sent 
 to her assistance the messenger who had 
 brought Jameson s letter, probably in or 
 der to keep her away from the presence 
 of the other officers.* 
 
 The traitor, finding the horse of one of 
 Washington s aids-de-camp ready at the 
 door, sprang into the saddle, and rode 
 with all speed down a steep by-way, since 
 called "Arnold s Path," to the landing-place 
 of the river, where his barge was moored. 
 He jumped in, and ordered his six oars 
 men to pull with all their might into the 
 middle of the stream, telling them that 
 he was going to the British sloop-of-war 
 Vulture with a flag, and was in a hurry 
 to be back in time to meet General Wash 
 ington on his arrival. In order to keep 
 them well to their work, Arnold encour 
 aged them with a promise of two gallons 
 of rum. The men rowed with energy, 
 and Arnold, holding up a white handker 
 chief for a flag of truce, was soon placed 
 alongside of the Vulture, which lay off 
 Teller s Point, a little below her anchor 
 age where Andre left her. The traitor 
 had no sooner presented himself to the 
 captain, than he called in the coxswain 
 
 * Irving. 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 of his barge, and told him that he and 
 the rest of the men were prisoners. The 
 latter, however, declared that he and his 
 companions were not prisoners, as they 
 had come out under the protection of a 
 flag. The captain, who did not seem to 
 approve of Arnold s act, although he did 
 not interfere with his orders, told the cox 
 swain that he might go ashore on his pa 
 role, to obtain some clothing for himself 
 and the others. They were all finally re 
 leased on the arrival of the Vulture at 
 New York, by Sir Henry Clinton, who held 
 " in just contempt such a wanton act of 
 meanness" on the part of Arnold.* 
 
 The traitor had but just gone when 
 Washington rode up with his suite, and, 
 learning the supposed cause of his ab 
 sence, hurried through his breakfast, and 
 determined to cross over at once to West 
 Point. Here he expected to meet Arnold, 
 as the latter had left word with the aids- 
 de-camp that he had been suddenly sum 
 moned there. All Washington s officers 
 accompanied him, with the exception of 
 Colonel Hamilton, who remained behind 
 at the Robinson house, where all were 
 expected to return to dinner. 
 
 While crossing the river, Washington 
 remarked, as he looked upon the impres 
 sive scenery of the Hudson, " Well, gen 
 tlemen, I am glad, on the whole, that Gen 
 eral Arnold has gone before us, for we 
 shall now have a salute, and the roaring 
 
 * O 
 
 of the cannon will have a fine effect amon^ 
 
 o 
 
 these mountains." As they approached 
 the fort, however, not a gun was heard ! 
 "What!" exclaimed the commander-in- 
 chief, " do they not intend to salute us ?" 
 
 * Sparks. 
 
 Soon an officer was seen coming down 
 the bank to the shore. It was Colonel 
 Lamb, who, when he recognised the gen 
 eral, was greatly surprised, and apolo 
 gized for the apparent neglect of the 
 usual ceremonies, saying that the visit 
 was entirely unexpected. 
 
 "How is this, sir! is not General Ar 
 nold here?" abruptly exclaimed Washing 
 ton. " No, sir," answered the colonel ; " he 
 has not been here these two days, and I 
 have not heard from him during that 
 time." "This is extraordinary," rejoined 
 Washington, with an expression of sur 
 prise ; " we were told that he had crossed 
 the river, and that we should find him 
 here. However, we must not lose our 
 visit. Since we have come, we will look 
 around, and see how things are with you." 
 
 The commander-in-chief and his offi 
 cers having spent some time in inspecting 
 the fortress and garrison, crossed the riv 
 er again and returned to the landing- 
 place about four o clock in the 
 afternoon, after an absence of 
 several hours. As they went up the river- 
 bank toward the Robinson house, Colonel 
 Hamilton was seen to be coining down 
 hurriedly to meet them. 
 
 He at once singled out Washington, 
 and, taking him aside, spoke to him in a 
 low voice, but with an evident expression 
 of earnestness. They now hastened to 
 gether to the house, where the papers 
 which Colonel Jameson had scut, and also 
 Major Andrd s letter, had arrived, the im 
 portant revelations of which Hamilton 
 had just communicated to the generai-in- 
 chief. The messenger whom Jameson 
 had despatched with the papers found 
 
 Sept, 25, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ARNOLD S LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 
 
 779 
 
 upon the person of Andre* had taken the 
 "lower road" to Hartford, and had thus 
 missed Washington, who, as may be rec 
 ollected, returned by the upper one. The 
 messenger, discovering the fact in the 
 course of his journey, hastened by the 
 shortest route to West Point, which led 
 by Colonel Sheldon s post at North Sa 
 lem, where he arrived just in time to be 
 the bearer of Andre s letter, and delivered 
 it together with the papers of General 
 Arnold. When the messenger arrived at 
 the Robinson house, and spoke of his 
 packet being of the greatest importance, 
 Hamilton broke the seal, and read the 
 contents ; and now, on the return of the 
 commander-in-chief, he immediately sub 
 mitted them to him. 
 
 Washington acted promptly. He sent 
 off Hamilton, with directions to gallop in 
 {ill haste to Verplanck s Point, and order 
 the commander of that post to intercept 
 Arnold, if possible, as there could be no 
 doubt that he was going or had gone over 
 to the enemy. In the meantime, Wash 
 ington so completely retained his natural 
 composure of manner, that he bore no ap 
 pearance of agitation. The treason which 
 he had discovered he kept as a secret from 
 most of his officers, and only disclosed it 
 at the moment to General Knox and La 
 fayette. " Whom can we trust now ?" he 
 mournfully exclaimed to the young mar 
 quis. This was the only indication that 
 the patriot chief gave of the feeling with 
 which he contemplated the crime of Ar 
 nold. The same calmness marked his de 
 meanor throughout. On the announce 
 ment of dinner, he said, " Come, gentle 
 men, since Mrs. Arnold is unwell, and the 
 
 general is absent, let us sit down without 
 ceremony ;" and during the whole time 
 he was at table there was no observable 
 change in his usual habits. 
 
 Colonel Hamilton s ride to Verplanck s 
 Point was, of course, of no avail. Arnold, 
 having left at ten o clock, some six hours 
 before Washington was cognizant of the 
 cause of his absence, was safely on board 
 the Vulture. In fact, while Hamilton was 
 at the Point, a flag of truce arrived from 
 the sloop, with a letter from Arnold to 
 Washington, which was immediately sent 
 forward to the chief. The object of this 
 letter was, to entreat a kind consideration 
 for his wife, who, Arnold wrote, was " as 
 good and as innocent as an angel, and in 
 capable of doing wrong." He exonerated 
 Smith and his aids-de-camp from all com 
 plicity in his act, which, with a " heart 
 conscious of its own rectitude," he would 
 not condescend to palliate, nor ask any 
 favor for himself, for he had too often ex 
 perienced the ingratitude of his country 
 to attempt it. The Vulture im 
 mediately sailed down the river 
 to New York, where on the same night 
 the traitor held an interview with his new 
 commander-in-chief, Sir Henry Clinton, 
 and received the reward of his treachery ; 
 but the design against West Point, now 
 that the Americans were on the watch, 
 under the vigilant eye of their chief, was 
 abandoned. 
 
 Washington needed no letter from her 
 husband to engage his sympathies in be 
 half of Mrs. Arnold. Her position wrought 
 upon every manly heart. But one year 
 a mother, and not two a bride, the poor 
 young creature had received a blow of 
 
 Sept, 25, 
 
780 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 the most appalling nature.* " She for a 
 considerable time," wrote Hamilton, " en 
 tirely lost herself. The general went up 
 to see her, and she upbraided him with 
 being in a plot to murder her child ! One 
 moment she raved, another she melted 
 into tears. Sometimes she pressed her 
 infant to her bosom, and lamented its 
 fate, occasioned by the imprudence of 
 its father, in a manner that would have 
 pierced insensibility itself. All the sweet 
 ness of beauty, all the loveliness of inno 
 cence, all the tenderness of a wife, and 
 all the fondness of a mother, showed them 
 selves in her appearance and conduct. 
 
 We have every reason to believe that she 
 was entirely unacquainted with the plan, 
 and that the first knowledge of it was 
 when Arnold went to tell her he must 
 banish himself from his country and from 
 her for ever. She instantly fell into con 
 vulsions, and he left her in that situa 
 tion."* 
 
 The tenderest care was bestowed upon 
 the unfortunate lady by all in attendance 
 at the Robinson house, and she was soon 
 escorted in safety to Philadelphia, where, 
 after residing some time with her rela 
 tives and friends, she joined her husband 
 at New York. 
 
 CHAPTER XC. 
 
 Washington on his Guard. The Strengthening of Posts. Arrests. A Conversation with Major Andre. His Probable 
 Fate. The Case of Captain Nathan Hale. Civil Treatment. Strong Guards. A Court-Martial convened at Tap- 
 pan. Efforts to save Andre. The Prisoner before the Court. His Frank Confession. His Magnanimity and Deli 
 cacy. A Spy. Sentence of Death. Letter from Andre to Sir Henry Clinton. Offer of Exchange of Andre for 
 Arnold. Its Refusal. Unjust Suspicion against General St. Clair. A Jluse. The Suspicion cleared. A Cunning 
 Paper. 
 
 the commander of every post on the Hud 
 son was directed to be particularly watch 
 ful. 
 
 Washington despatched an officer to 
 arrest Joshua Hett Smith (the guide of 
 Andre previous to his capture), and at 
 the same time sent orders to Colonel 
 Jameson to forward his prisoner under a 
 
 1780, 
 
 WASHINGTON, although of opinion 
 that, by the capture of Andre, the 
 purpose of General Arnold s treason had 
 been thwarted, carefully guarded against 
 danger by prudently providing every se 
 curity. General Greene, who had been 
 left in command of the army at Old Tap- 
 pan, in New Jersey, during the absence 
 of the chief at Hartford, was ordered to 
 march the left wing with all despatch to 
 King s ferry. The defences of West Point 
 were immediately manned, and put in the 
 best possible condition for resistance ; and 
 
 * Lossing. 
 
 * Mrs. Arnold had only arrived at West Point ten days 
 before the discovery of her husband s treason, and there was 
 no reason to suppose that she was at all cognizant of his 
 purpose. Some have, however (hut upon no better author 
 ity, we believe, than that of Aaron Burr), declared that she 
 was throughout well informed of Arnold s proceedings, and 
 that the tears and convulsive agonies were merely shams got 
 up for the occasion. 
 
RKVOLUTIONATCY.] 
 
 REMOVAL OF ANDRE TO TAPPAN. 
 
 781 
 
 strong guard immediately to the Robin 
 son house. The summons reached North 
 Salem in the middle of the night; and 
 Andre, being aroused from his bed, was 
 hurried off in the darkness, while torrents 
 of rain were pouring down, to add to the 
 dismalness of the time. Early the next 
 
 morning, the captive arrived at 
 Sept, 26, 
 
 the Kobmsonhouse,where Wash 
 ington declined seeing him. The same 
 evening he was taken across the river to 
 West Point, where he remained for two 
 days, and was thence conveyed to the 
 American camp at Tappan. 
 
 When we left West Point for 
 
 o ... ,, - , . rl , , , i 
 
 Tappan, says Major Tallmadge, 
 who commanded the guard, " early in the 
 morning, as we passed down the Hudson 
 river to King s ferry, I placed Andre by 
 my side, on the after-seat of the barge. 
 I soon began to make inquiries about the 
 expected capture of our fortress, then in 
 full view, and begged him to inform me 
 whether he was to have taken a part in 
 the military attack, if Arnold s plan had 
 succeeded. He instantly replied in the 
 affirmative, and pointed me to a table of 
 land on the west shore, which he said 
 was the spot where he should have land 
 ed, at the head of a select corps. He then 
 traversed in idea the course up the mount 
 ain into the rear of Fort Putnam, which 
 overlooks the whole parade of West Point. 
 And this he did with much greater exact 
 ness than I could have done ; and as Ar 
 nold had so disposed of the garrison, that 
 little or no opposition could be made by 
 our troops, Major Andre supposed he 
 should have reached that commanding 
 eminence without difficulty. In 
 
 case, that important key of our country 
 would have been theirs [the enemy s], 
 and the glory of so splendid an achieve 
 ment would have been his. 
 
 "The animation with which he gave 
 the account I recollect perfectly delight 
 ed me, for he seemed as if he was enter 
 ing the fort sword in hand. To complete 
 the climax, I next inquired what was to 
 have been his reward, if he had succeed 
 ed. He replied that military glory was 
 all he sought ; and that the thanks of his 
 general, and the approbation of his king, 
 were a rich reward for such an underta 
 king. I think he further remarked that, 
 if he had succeeded (and, with the aid of 
 the opposing general, who could doubt 
 success?), he was to have been promoted 
 to the rank of brigadier-general. 
 
 " After we disembarked at King s ferry, 
 near Haverstraw, we took up our line of 
 march, with a fine body of horse, for Tap- 
 pan. Before we reached the Clove, Major 
 Andre became very inquisitive to know 
 my opinion as to the result of his capture. 
 In other words, he wished me to give him 
 candidly my opinion as to the light in 
 which he would be viewed by General 
 Washington and a military tribunal, if 
 one should be ordered. This was the 
 most unpleasant question that had been 
 propounded to me, and I endeavored to 
 evade it, unwilling to give him a true an 
 swer. When I could no longer evade his 
 importunity, or put off a full reply, I re 
 marked to him as follows: 
 
 " I had a much-loved classmate in Y;ile 
 college, by the name of Nathan Hale, who 
 entered the army in 1775. Immediately 
 after the battle of Long island, General 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II 
 
 Washington wanted information respect 
 ing the strength, position, and probable 
 movements, of the enemy. Captain Hale 
 tendered his services, went over to Brook 
 lyn, and was taken just as he was passing 
 the outposts of the enemy on his return. 
 Said I with emphasis, ( Do you remember 
 the sequel of this story? Yes, said 
 Andre, he was hanged as a spy. But 
 you surely do not consider his case and 
 mine alike ? I replied, Yes, precisely 
 similar, and similar will be your fate ! 
 He endeavored to answer my remark, but 
 it was manifest he was more troubled in 
 spirit than I had ever seen him before. 
 
 " We stopped at the Clove to dine, and 
 to let the horse-guard refresh. While 
 there, Andre kept reviewing his shabby 
 dress, and finally remarked to me that he 
 was positively ashamed to go to the head 
 quarters of the American army in such a 
 plight. I called my servant, and directed 
 him to bring my dragoon-cloak, which I 
 presented to Major Andre. This he re 
 fused to take for some time ; but I insist 
 ed on it, and he finally put it on, and rode 
 in it to Tappan." 
 
 Washington sent orders that the cap 
 tive should be carefully guarded, but at 
 the same time he added, I wish the room 
 for Major Andre to be a decent one, and 
 that he may be treated civilly." The pris 
 oner was accordingly confined to a single 
 room of the stone-house in which he was 
 imprisoned (but a short distance from the 
 headquarters of the commander-in-chief), 
 and out of which he was riot allowed to 
 go on any pretext whatever; and, in ad 
 dition to the usual guards, two officers, 
 with drawn swords, remained constantly 
 
 in the apartment, while the others were 
 ordered to " keep walking the entry and 
 around the sentries, to see that they are 
 alert." Andre not only received the ci 
 vility which Washington enjoined, but was 
 treated by every one with a kindness of 
 manner in accordance with the universal 
 sympathy felt for the accomplished young 
 officer who had been seduced to ruin by 
 that arch-traitor Arnold. 
 
 The commander-in-chief, having taken 
 every possible precaution at West Point 
 and on the Hudson, returned to the camp 
 at Tappan, and immediately convened a 
 
 board of fourteen general offi- 
 
 . b Sept, 29, 
 
 cers in the Dutch church near at 
 
 hand, to investigate the case of Major 
 Andre. It consisted of Major-Generals 
 Greene,Stirling,St.Clair, Lafayette, Howe, 
 and Steuben; and of Brigadiers Parsons, 
 James Clinton, Knox, Glover, Paterson, 
 Hand, Huntington, and Stark. General 
 Greene was president of the board ; and 
 Colonel John Lawrence, subsequently a 
 distinguished legislator and jurist, acted 
 as judge advocate-general.* 
 
 In the meantime, great efforts were be 
 ing made by the British commander, Sir 
 Henry Clinton, and the other officers, by 
 all of whom Andre was greatly beloved, 
 to obtain his release. Sir Henry s first 
 communication was merely a direct re 
 quest that his majesty s adjutant-general 
 might be permitted to return immediate 
 ly to his orders. This was, however, ac 
 companied by a letter from General Ar 
 nold, in which the whole responsibility of 
 
 * Colonel Lawrence was a member of Congress through 
 out President Washington s administration, and was then 
 appointed a judge of the district court of New York. He 
 was four years in the United Statos senate. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] ANDRE CONDEMNED. HIS LETTER TO CLINTON. 
 
 783 
 
 Sept, 29, 
 
 Andre s conduct was assumed by himself. 
 He had sent a flag of truce to bring him 
 on shore ; he had given him the papers 
 written by himself; he had directed him 
 to assume a feigned name, and he had 
 furnished him with a passport to go to 
 New York by White Plains. These were 
 acts which Arnold declared he himself 
 had not only done, but, being in com 
 mand, had a right to do : if wrong, there 
 fore, the traitor insisted that the respon 
 sibility should rest with him and not with 
 Major Andre. 
 
 The board assembled, and Andre was 
 brought before it. He was treated with 
 every indulgence, and w r as not 
 required to answer any interrog 
 atory which might embarrass his feelings. 
 The prisoner, in a few words, gave a nar 
 rative of the incidents which had occurred 
 from the time of his coming on shore to 
 his capture ; but, while he frankly con 
 fessed everything relating to himself, he 
 took care not to implicate others. His 
 delicacy in this particular was such, that 
 when General Greene spoke of Smith s 
 house as the place of meeting with Ar 
 nold, Andre quickly interposed, " I said a 
 house, sir, but I did not say whose house." 
 " True," replied Greene, "nor have we 
 any right to demand this of you, after the 
 condition we have allowed." 
 
 When Andre was asked whether, when 
 he came on shore, he considered himself 
 under the protection of a flag of truce, he 
 frankly declared that "it was impossible 
 for him to suppose he came on shore un 
 der the sanction of a flag ; and added that, 
 if became on shore under that sanction, he 
 might certainly have returned under it." 
 
 Without any examination of witnesses, 
 and from the prisoner s own confession 
 alone, the board reported that in its opin 
 ion Major Andre ought to be considered 
 a spy, and to suffer death accordingly. 
 When the decision was announced to the 
 captive, he received it with manly forti 
 tude, and remarked to Colonel Hamilton, 
 whose sympathies, with those of all the 
 younger officers, were warmly enlisted in 
 behalf of the condemned man : " I foresee 
 my fate, and, though I pretend not to play 
 the hero, or to be indifferent about life, 
 yet I am reconciled to whatever may hap 
 pen ; conscious that misfortune, not guilt, 
 has brought it upon me." 
 
 With a delicacy characteristic of Andre, 
 he seemed more sensible of the grief that 
 his condemnation might cause to others 
 than of the fatal consequences to himself. 
 To Sir Henry Clinton he wrote the fol 
 lowing letter: 
 
 "TAPPAN, 29 September, 1780. 
 
 "Sin: Your excellency is doubtless al 
 ready apprized of the manner in which I 
 was taken, and possibly of the serious 
 light in which my conduct is considered, 
 and the rigorous determination that is im 
 pending. 
 
 " Under these circumstances, I have ob 
 tained General Washington s permission 
 to send you this letter; the object of which 
 is to remove from your breast any suspi 
 cion that I could imagine I was bound by 
 your excellency s orders to expose my 
 self to what has happened. The events 
 of coming within an enemy s posts, and 
 of changing my dress, which led me to 
 rny present situation, were contrary to 
 my own intentions, as they were to your 
 
784 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 orders ; and the circuitous route which I 
 took to return was imposed (perhaps un 
 avoidably) without alternative upon me. 
 
 "I am perfectly tranquil in mind, and 
 prepared for any fate to which an honest 
 zeal for my king s service may have de 
 voted me. 
 
 "In addressing myself to your excel 
 lency on this occasion, the force of all 
 my obligations to you, and of the attach 
 ment and gratitude I bear you, recurs to 
 me. With all the warmth of my heart, 
 I give you thanks for your excellency s 
 profuse kindness to me ; and I send you 
 the most earnest wishes for your welfare 
 which a faithful, affectionate, and respect 
 ful attendant, can frame. 
 
 " I have a mother and two sisters, to 
 whom the value of my commission would 
 be an object, as the loss of Grenada has 
 much affected their income. It is need 
 less to be more explicit on this subject ; 
 I am persuaded of your excellency s good 
 ness. 
 
 " I receive the greatest attention from 
 his excellency General Washington, and 
 from every person under whose charge I 
 happen to be placed. 
 
 " I have the honor to be, with the most 
 respectful attachment, your excellency s 
 most obedient and most humble servant, 
 " JOHN ANDRE, 
 
 " Adjutant- General." 
 
 Washington sent with this letter one 
 from himself to Sir Henry Clinton, in 
 which he announced the decision of the 
 board, and repeated the circumstances 
 which in his opinion justified it. There 
 was now but one hope for Major Andre. 
 Could the enemy be persuaded to deliver 
 
 up Arnold., then Andre would be set free. 
 Washington himself could hardly venture 
 to hope that a proposition to that effect 
 could be entertained, and he therefore 
 made no formal advances for the purpose. 
 Captain Aaron Ogden, however, was sent 
 with an escort to carry despatches to the 
 British post at Paulus Hook (now Jersey 
 City) for Sir Henry Clinton at New York, 
 and at the same time was authorized to 
 declare that Andre would be given in ex 
 change for Arnold. But the English com 
 mander would not listen to the sugges 
 tion for a moment. 
 
 As Captain Ogden was mustering his 
 escort to return to the American camp, 
 he found that the sergeant -was missing. 
 Seeking for him in vain, he came back 
 with the conclusion that he had lost the 
 man by desertion to the British. The 
 sergeant, however, was playing a part un 
 suspected by his captain, but in accord 
 ance with the direction of Washington, 
 who had prevailed upon him to enter the 
 enemy s lines, under the pretence of be 
 ing a deserter. The object of the com- 
 mander-in-chief was, to obtain information 
 in regard to the truth of a paper implica 
 ting General St. Clair in Arnold s treason, 
 and which had been intercepted. The 
 sergeant acted his part successfully, and 
 came back with the satisfactory intelli 
 gence that there was no foundation what 
 ever for the imputed treason ; and it was 
 inferred that the paper was a contrivance 
 of the enemy, to cause distrust and dis 
 sension in the American army. " The 
 treason of Arnold," says Lossing, "so un 
 expected and so appalling, aroused for a 
 moment the most unjust and ungenerous 
 
RETOLUTIONABT.] SUSPICION AGAINST ST. CLAIR. NO HOPE FOR ANDRE. 785 
 
 suspicions against many of the most faith 
 ful republicans in and out of the army. 
 The old slanders against the unfortunate 
 St. Clair, propagated after his retreat from 
 Ticonderoga in 1777, were awakened from 
 their slumbers; and these, assuming a new 
 shape, were put into active circulation 
 through anonymous letters and papers, 
 and other cowardly means. In them he 
 was charged with direct complicity with 
 the traitor. The mind of Washington 
 was disturbed, yet his sense of justice 
 would not allow him to condemn any 
 man, even by his own impressions, with 
 out ample proof of guilt. His tenderness 
 also would not allow him to accuse with 
 
 out a solid ground for belief of guilt ; and 
 he employed the trusty Major Henry Lee 
 (who was stationed upon the lines with 
 his dragoons) to investigate the matter 
 secretly. The result was, a full convic 
 tion of St. Glair s innocence. 
 
 " Colonel Richard Varick and Major 
 Franks, the aids of Arnold, were also in 
 cluded in those unjust suspicions : indeed, 
 almost every hour a malicious whisper 
 against the fidelity of the best men reach 
 ed the ear of the commander-in-chief. But 
 his uneasiness soon gave way to confi 
 dence and serenity ; and the treason of 
 Arnold served to make the true friends 
 of the cause of freedom more vigilant." 
 
 CHAPTER XCI. 
 
 No Hope for Major Andre. Commissioners and Letters. Threats of Arnold. Unsuccessful Attempt to abduct the Trai 
 tor from the British Camp. Sergeant Champe. The Halter or a Ball. Affecting Letter of Andre" to Washington. 
 Stern Sense of Duty. The Hanging of Andr6. Description by an Eye-Witness. His Fortitude. Sight of the Gal 
 lows. Last Words. A Momentary Pang. The Burial. The Remains removed to England. A Monument in West 
 minster Abbey. Royal Honors. Sympathy of Americans. Monument at Tarrytown. Rewards of the Captors of 
 Andre. Their Conduct. Incorruptible Patriots. Their Graves. Rewards of Arnold. Contempt for Him by the 
 English. His Duel. Vicissitudes in the Life of Mrs. Arnold. 
 
 1780, 
 
 THERE was now no hope for Ma 
 jor Andre. Washington had ap 
 proved the sentence of the court-martial 
 which tried and condemned him, and had 
 signed his death-warrant. The time ap 
 pointed for his execution was the first of 
 October, at five o clock in the afternoon. 
 Sir Henry Clinton, however, still strove 
 to save the unfortunate youth; and the 
 execution was delayed one day, in con 
 sequence of a letter from the British com- 
 99 
 
 mander, asking for a conference between 
 commissioners on the subject, to be held 
 at Dobbs s ferry. That conference was 
 held, at which the British commissioners 
 endeavored to prove that Andre was not 
 a spy, and therefore did not merit the 
 penalty ; but nothing was presented by 
 the friends of the prisoner to warrant a 
 change in the decision of the court-mar 
 tial. 
 
 General Arnold now wrote another let- 
 
86 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 ter to Washington, in which, as before, 
 he not only assumed the responsibility 
 of Andre s conduct, and claimed immuni 
 ty for him, but threatened retaliation in 
 case he should be executed. " If, after 
 this just and candid representation of 
 Major Andre s case," said Arnold, at the 
 close of his letter, " the board of general 
 officers adhere to their former opinion, I 
 shall suppose it dictated by passion and 
 resentment ; and if that gentleman should 
 suffer the severity of their sentence, I 
 shall think myself bound by every tie of 
 duty and honor to retaliate on such un 
 happy persons of your army as may fall 
 within my power, that the respect due to 
 flags, and to the law of nations, may be 
 better understood and observed. 
 
 " If this warning should be disregarded, 
 and he suffer, I call Heaven and earth to 
 witness that your excellency will be just 
 ly answerable for the torrents of blood 
 that may be spilt in consequence." 
 
 In the meanwhile, as the honor of the 
 British commander would not allow him 
 to deliver up Arnold in exchange for the 
 captive Andre, a scheme was finally laid 
 to abduct the traitor, convey him to the 
 American camp, and execute him. Spies 
 in New York informed the American com- 
 mander-in-chief of Arnold s quarters, his 
 habits, his hours of privacy, and the im 
 portant fact that he walked late every 
 night alone in a garden that led down to 
 the shore of the Hudson. Washington 
 sent for Major Henry Lee, a man in whom 
 he could confide implicit! y,,and asked his 
 aid in efforts to secure the traitor. Lee 
 selected Sergeant Champe, of his legion, 
 for the enterprise, who deserted by per 
 
 mission, went to New York, enlisted in 
 Arnold s corps, and matured a plan for 
 his abduction on some occasion when he 
 should be walking in the garden. Whale- 
 boats were to come from the Jersey shore 
 at a certain hour, when the traitor was to 
 be seized, gagged and bound, and carried 
 away. On the very day when the scheme 
 was to be executed, Arnold and his corps, 
 including Sergeant Champe, sailed on a 
 predatory expedition into Virginia, and 
 the plan failed. Some months afterward, 
 Champe deserted and rejoined his legion, 
 then in North Carolina.* 
 
 Andre, made aware of his fate, showed 
 neither surprise nor fear. He calmly 
 awaited his death, although he said that 
 there was still " a choice in the mode," 
 which would make a material difference 
 in his feelings. He desired that he mi<z;ht 
 
 O O 
 
 be shot, instead of being hung, as is usual 
 in the case of spies. To obtain this favor, 
 he wrote to Washington: 
 
 "TAPPAN, 1 October, 17 SO. 
 
 "Sin: Buoyed above the terror of death, 
 by the consciousness of a life devoted to 
 honorable pursuits, and stained with no 
 action that can give me remorse, I trust 
 that the request I make to your excel 
 lency at this serious period, and which is 
 to soften my last moments, will not be 
 rejected. 
 
 "Sympathy toward a soldier will sure 
 ly induce your excellency and a military 
 tribunal to adapt the mode of my death 
 to the feelings of a man of honor. 
 
 " Let me hope, sir, that if aught in iny 
 character impresses you with esteem tow 
 ard me, if aught in my misfortunes marks 
 
 * Lossing. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 EXECUTION OF ANDRE. 
 
 787 
 
 me as the victim of policy and not of re 
 sentment, I shall experience the opera 
 tion of these feelings in your breast, by 
 being informed that I am not to die on a 
 gibbet. 
 
 " I have the honor to be your excellen 
 cy s most obedient and most humble ser 
 
 vant, 
 
 "JoiiN ANDRE." 
 
 Oct. 2. 
 
 This letter could not fail to impress 
 Washington, as it has done all who ever 
 read it, by its dignified pathos; but its 
 request was denied, from a stern sense of 
 duty. 
 
 The hour of Major Andre s execution 
 was fixed at twelve o clock. An 
 eye-witness thus described it: 
 "The principal guard-officer, who was con 
 stantly in the room with the prisoner, re 
 lates that when the hour of his execution 
 was announced to him in the morning, he 
 received it without emotion ; and, while 
 all present were affected with silentgloom, 
 he retained a firm countenance, with calm 
 ness and composure of mind. Observing 
 his servant enter the room in tears, he 
 exclaimed, Leave me till you can show 
 yourself more manly ! His breakfast be 
 ing sent to him from the table of General 
 Washington, which had been done every 
 day of his confinement, he partook of it 
 as usual ; and, having shaved and dressed 
 himself, he placed his hat on the table, 
 and cheerfully said to the guard-officers, 
 I am ready at any moment, gentlemen, 
 to wait on you. 
 
 " The fatal hour having arrived, a large 
 detachment of troops was paraded, and 
 an immense concourse of people assem 
 bled; almost all our general and field- 
 
 officers, excepting his excellency* and his 
 staff, were present on horseback ; melan 
 choly and gloom pervaded all ranks, and 
 the scene was affectingly awful. I was 
 so near during the solemn march to the 
 fatal spot as to observe every movement, 
 and participate in every emotion which 
 the melancholy scene was calculated to 
 produce. 
 
 " Major Andre walked from the stone- 
 house in which he had been confined, be 
 tween two of our subaltern officers, arm- 
 in-arm. The eyes of the immense mul 
 titude were fixed on him, who, rising su 
 perior to the fears of death, appeared as 
 if conscious of the dignified deportment 
 which he displayed. He betrayed no want 
 of fortitude, but retained a complacent 
 smile on his countenance, and politely 
 bowed to several gentlemen whom he 
 knew, which w r as respectfully returned. 
 It was his earnest desire to be shot, as 
 being the mode of death most conform 
 able to the feelings of a military man, and 
 he had indulged the hope that his request 
 would be granted. At the moment, there 
 fore, when suddenly he came in view of 
 the gallows, he involuntarily started back 
 ward, and made a pause. l Why this emo 
 tion, sir ? inquired an officer by his side. 
 Instantly recovering his composure, he 
 said, I am reconciled to my death, but I 
 detest the mode. 
 
 " While waiting, and standing near the 
 gallows, I observed some degree of trepi 
 dation ; placing his foot on a stone, and 
 rolling it over, and choking in his throat, 
 as if attempting to swallow. So soon, 
 
 * Washington is believed never to have seen Andre, or at 
 least to have held any direct personal intercourse with him. 
 
788 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 however, as he perceived that things were 
 in readiness, he stepped quickly into the 
 wagon, and at this moment he appeared 
 to shrink ; but instantly elevating his head 
 with firmness he said, It will be but a 
 momentary pang ; and, taking from his 
 pocket two white handkerchiefs, the pro 
 vost-marshal with one loosely pinioned 
 his arms, and with the other the victim, 
 after taking off his hat and stock, band 
 aged his own eyes with perfect firmness, 
 which melted the hearts and moistened 
 the cheeks, not only of his servant, but 
 of the throng of spectators. The rope 
 being appended to the gallows, he slipped 
 the noose over his head and adjusted it 
 to his neck, without the assistance of the 
 awkward executioner. Colonel Scammel 
 now informed him that he had an oppor 
 tunity to speak, if he desired it. He raised 
 the handkerchief from his eyes, and said, 
 I pray you to bear me witness that I 
 meet my fate like a brave man. The 
 wagon being now removed from under 
 him, he was suspended, and instantly ex 
 pired ; it proved, indeed, but a moment 
 ary pang."* 
 
 Thus perished the brave, amiable, and 
 accomplished John Andre, at the early 
 age of twenty-nine years. The regiment 
 als in which he was executed were given 
 to his servant. His body was interred at 
 Tappan, near the place of execution, and 
 there it remained until 1821, when, under 
 the auspices of the duke of York (the next 
 younger brother of George IV., and com- 
 mander-in-chief of the British army), the 
 remains were removed to England, and 
 deposited in Westminster abbey. 
 
 * Thacher. 
 
 King George III., in order to wipe away 
 the stain of his mode of death from the 
 family, bestowed the order of knighthood 
 upon a younger brother, and ordered a 
 magnificent monument to be erected to 
 the memory of Andre in Westminster ab 
 bey, on which was inscribed a glowing 
 epitaph. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton also paid the follow 
 ing tribute to his adjutant in his general 
 orders to the army on the occasion of his 
 death : " The unfortunate fate of this offi 
 cer calls upon the commander-in-chief to 
 declare that he ever considered Major An 
 dre a gentleman of the highest integrity 
 and honor, and incapable of any base ac 
 tion or unworthy conduct." 
 
 Even among the Americans there was 
 a sad feeling of regret at the necessity 
 which existed for the condemnation of 
 Andre. " While every one acquainted 
 with the facts," observes Lossing, "regard 
 ed the sentence as just, there was a uni 
 versal feeling of sympathy for the unfor 
 tunate young officer. In all the trying 
 scenes to which he was exposed, his de 
 portment was noble and winning. Death 
 appeared to have no terrors for him, but 
 he was deeply grieved at the manner in 
 which he was doomed to suffer. He dis 
 claimed all intentions to become a spy, 
 declaring that he was left within the 
 American lines by accident ; and upon 
 this plea some have predicated a severe 
 judgment concerning the part taken in 
 the matter by Washington and his gener 
 al officers. But the judgment of military 
 men, and those who have weighed all the 
 circumstances dispassionately, is, that the 
 sentence was just, and its execution expe 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE CAPTORS OF ANDRE. ARNOLD IN NEW YORK. 
 
 789 
 
 dient. Could the members of the court- 
 martial, with due regard to the good of 
 their country, have made a decision in 
 consonance with their feelings, he would 
 not have suffered death. In the army, 
 and among the people, there was a strong 
 desire to substitute Arnold for Andre; 
 and sympathy for the victim of a villain s 
 wiles has ever been a predominant feeling 
 in the breasts of Americans when consid 
 ering the treason of Arnold. That sym 
 pathy found expression a few years ago, 
 when a monument to the memory of the 
 unfortunate young officer was erected up 
 on the spot, at Tarry town, where he was 
 arrested by the three republicans." 
 
 The men who had captured Andre* 
 Paul ding, Van Wart, and Williams were 
 highly applauded for their noble spirit. 
 "Their conduct," said Washing 
 ton, in a letter to the president 
 of Congress, " merits our warmest esteem, 
 and I beg leave to add that I think the 
 public will do well to make them a hand 
 some gratuity. They have prevented, in 
 all probability, our suffering one of the 
 severest strokes that could have been 
 meditated against us." Congress acted 
 upon this suggestion, and generously re 
 warded each of the captors with a pen 
 sion for life of two hundred dollars, and 
 honored each with a silver medal, on one 
 side of which was inscribed Fidelity, and 
 on the other Vincit Amor Patrice "THE 
 LOVE OF COUNTRY CONQUERS." 
 
 Major Andre had stated that, when 
 these men first discovered him, they were 
 playing a game of cards ; and that, after 
 they had captured him, their sole object 
 seemed to be money. They ripped up 
 
 Oct. 7, 
 
 the housings of his saddle and the cape 
 of his coat, to seek for it; but, finding 
 none, one of the three exclaimed, " He 
 may have it in his boots !" Andre be 
 lieved that, if he could have given them 
 a small sum of money at first, he might 
 have escaped. Granting, however, as is 
 probable, that the first object of the cap 
 tors was money, there can be no question 
 that, when they discovered, by means of 
 the papers, the true character of their 
 prisoner, they resisted all appeals to their 
 own interests, and were constant to those 
 of their country. Their integrity was cer 
 tainly proof against bribery, and they de 
 serve to be recorded in history as incor 
 ruptible patriots. The remains of Pauld- 
 ing sleep beneath a handsome white mar 
 ble monument, in the burial-ground of 
 St. Peter s church, near Peekskill ; those 
 of Van Wart are under a similar monu 
 rnent in the Greenburg churchyard, near 
 the banks of the beautiful Neparan, in 
 Westchester county; and those of Wil 
 liams lie in the churchyard at Livings- 
 tonville, in Schoharie county. 
 
 Soon after the traitor s arrival in New 
 York, with the hope of alluring the dis 
 contented to his standard, he published 
 " an address to the inhabitants of Amer 
 ica," in which he endeavored to justify his 
 conduct. This was followed in about a 
 fortnight by a proclamation, addressed 
 " to the officers and soldiers of the conti 
 nental army, who have the real interest 
 of their country at heart, and who are de 
 termined to be no longer the tools of Congress 
 and of France" But these proclamations 
 did not in the least produce the effects 
 designed. 
 
790 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Arnold reaped the reward of his trea 
 son the elevated rank of brigadier-gen 
 eral in the British army, and the hand 
 some sum of ten thousand pounds ster- 
 lincr though it has been affirmed that 
 
 o O 
 
 he obtained only a portion of the money 
 stipulated for. In gaming these, however, 
 he lost everything else. He was looked 
 upon with contempt by those very per 
 sons who had sought to profit by his 
 treachery; and was taunted with being 
 the author of an abortive treason, in the 
 conception and partial execution of which 
 he stood alone, and as the only American 
 officer who forsook the cause of freedom, 
 turned his sword against his country, and 
 so left to his children " a name of hateful 
 celebrity." It is true he was employed 
 subsequently in the war, in consequence 
 of his military talents, and his acquaint 
 ance with the country ; and into the ser 
 vice of his royal purchaser the traitor now 
 entered with a ferocious spirit of revenge, 
 mercilessly ravaging the coast and sea 
 port towns of Virginia, and desolating 
 with fire and sword the property of his in 
 jured countrymen of Connecticut almost 
 within sight of his childhood s home : but 
 he never acquired the confidence of his 
 superiors, the friendship of his equals, nor 
 the respect of his inferiors. Indeed, he 
 was both hated and despised by his new 
 companions-in-arms. The British officers 
 shunned his society ; and the common sol 
 diers on guard, while acknowledging his 
 official rank with a salute, would whisper 
 to each other as he passed, "There goes 
 the traitor Arnold T 
 
 Thus wrote Colonel Laurens, in a letter 
 to Washington, concerning the death of 
 
 Andre : " Arnold must undergo a punish 
 ment comparatively more severe, in the 
 permanent, increasing torment of a men 
 tal hell." Washington, however, viewed 
 his case in a different light, and regarded 
 Arnold as callous. " He wants feeling," 
 replied the chief. " He seems to have 
 been so hackneyed in villany, and so lost 
 to all sense of honor and shame, that, 
 while his faculties will enable him to con 
 tinue his sordid pursuits, there will be no 
 time for remorse." 
 
 On arriving in England, after the close 
 of the war, Arnold was recognised offi 
 cially as it were, by those in authority 
 only, while the rest of the world regarded 
 him with contempt. The British people, 
 though they might "love the treason, de 
 spised the traitor." On one occasion, as 
 Arnold was standing near the throne, 
 while a petition for a bill \vas being pre 
 sented in the usual form to the king, he 
 was observed by Lord Lauderdale, who, 
 when he returned to the house of peers, 
 declared that, " however gracious might 
 be the language he had heard from the 
 throne, his indignation could not but be 
 highly excited at beholding his majesty 
 supported by a traitor." On another oc 
 casion, the earl of Surrey, as he arose to 
 speak, caught a glimpse of Arnold in the 
 gallery, when he at once sat down, and, 
 with his finger pointed at him, exclaimed, 
 "I will not speak while that man is in 
 the house!" 
 
 It may well be conceived that Arnold, 
 with his revengeful spirit and reckless 
 physical courage, could ill brook such 
 contemptuous treatment, and that noth 
 ing but their privilege as peers saved 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] CLOSING CAREER OF ARXOLD. HIS WIFE. 
 
 791 
 
 them from being held amenable to the 
 code of the duelist. One nobleman, how 
 ever, who had insulted Arnold, permitted 
 a friend to accept his challenge to fight. 
 The next morning, at the hour appoint 
 ed for the meeting, in a secluded quarter 
 of London, Arnold appeared promptly on 
 the ground, and his opponent somewhat 
 late. The parties having taken their re 
 spective positions, and the word to fire 
 about to be given, Arnold prematurely 
 discharged his pistol, but without hitting 
 his antagonist ; upon which the latter, 
 raising his weapon aloft, fired it in the 
 air, and then with a glance of scorn, cool 
 ly turned upon his heel, and left the spot. 
 
 Arnold resided principally in England 
 after the conclusion of the war ; though 
 he was for a while in Nova Scotia, where 
 he found a welcome among the refugee 
 American loyalists. He was afterward 
 in the West Indies, where he was taken 
 prisoner by the French ; but, making his 
 escape, he returned to England, and end 
 ed his life in comparative obscurity, in 
 Gloucester place, London, June 14, 
 1801. 
 
 A spirit of avarice seems to have been 
 
 the ruling trait in the character of Ar 
 nold. When Washington learned the de 
 fection of his general, he was almost over 
 whelmed by the discovery; but calling 
 to mind Arnold s habits of extravagance 
 and his peculations, he said, " I thought 
 that a man who had shed his blood in 
 the cause of his country could be trusted, 
 but I am convinced now that those tuho 
 are wanting in private probity are unworthy 
 of public confidence." 
 
 The unfortunate wife of the traitor 
 became an exile from her country, and 
 shared in a degree the coldness of pub 
 lic feeling abroad toward her husband. 
 When she returned to Philadelphia, at 
 the time of his treason, she resolved to 
 separate from him for ever; but the ex 
 ecutive council of Pennsylvania, sus 
 pecting her of complicity in his commu 
 nications with Andre (it being known 
 that she had corresponded with that offi 
 cer before her marriage), would not con 
 sent, and ordered her to leave the state 
 within fourteen days, and not return 
 again during the war. Joining her hus 
 band in New York, she went with him 
 to Nova Scotia, and thence to England. 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA 
 
 [PART u. 
 
 CHAPTER XCII. 
 
 Lord Cornwallis in Camp at Camden. A Savage Proclamation. Cruelty to Prisoners. Awe not Subjection. Marion 
 in the Swamps. Spirit of the Patriots. Victory of Britton s Neck. Tarleton "on a Fox-Hunt." The British beaten 
 at Broad River. Sumterat Black Stocks. Victory. Sumter wounded. Ferguson on his March. The "Mountain- 
 Men." An Appeal to the Loyalists. Ferguson posted on King s Mountain. The March of the Mountain-Men. 
 Campbell, of Virginia. His Life and Character. The Farmers astir. A Grim Audience. King s Mountain. De 
 scription. Order of Attack. The Struggle. The Fourth Charge. Desperate Fight. The Last Charge. Fall of 
 Ferguson. Victory of the Patriots. Death of Edmonston. The Results. 
 
 LORD CORNWALLIS, triumphant as 
 1780 
 
 lie had been at Camden over Gen 
 eral Gates, on the 16th of August, did not 
 immediately pursue his conquests. The 
 extreme heat of the weather, and the 
 want of supplies, kept him in his camp at 
 Camden. His lordship, however, was ac 
 tive in preparations for the coming cam 
 paign. He sent his emissaries into North 
 Carolina, to encourage the loyalists there 
 to take up arms and assemble, with the 
 promise of soon marching to their sup 
 port. 
 
 In the meantime, every measure of rig 
 or was adopted which might be supposed 
 effective in crushing out the remnants of 
 "rebellion" in the Carolinas. A savage 
 proclamation was issued by the earl, ac 
 cording to which all those who, after hav 
 ing once submitted, had again taken up 
 arms against the king, were to be impris 
 oned, and their property taken from them 
 or destroyed ; and every militiaman who 
 had once served with the British, and af 
 terward joined the Americans, was threat 
 ened with immediate hanging! These 
 cruel threats, however, instead of effect 
 ing his lordship s object of extinguishing 
 
 the " rebellion," gave the strength of des 
 peration to resistance. 
 
 No measure of Lord Cornwallis was 
 more odious and more exasperating than 
 his treatment of the prisoners taken on 
 the fall of Charleston. Finding letters 
 from some of these in the baggage which 
 had fallen into his hands after the defeat 
 of Gates, the earl charged them with hav 
 ing broken their parole, and made this 
 accusation a cover for the greatest severi 
 ty. Regardless of his previous promises, 
 he caused many of the leading republi 
 cans of South Carolina, including Christo 
 pher Gadsden, the lieutenant-governor of 
 the state, Doctor David Ramsay, the his 
 torian of the war, most of the civil and 
 militia officers, and a large number of the 
 principal inhabitants of Charleston, about 
 sixty in all, to be dragged from 
 their beds early in the morning 
 by armed parties ; and, after being mus 
 tered at the public exchange, they were 
 hurried on board a guard-ship and trans 
 ported to St. Augustine, in Florida, where 
 they were subjected equally to bondage 
 and every form of indignity, and kept as 
 I so many hostages for the good behavior 
 
 Aug. 27, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] AMERICAN PRISONERS AT ST. AUGUSTINE. 
 
 793 
 
 of the citizens. After Major Andre s ex 
 ecution, these hostages were frequently 
 threatened with the halter, in retaliation 
 for the fate of that officer. The deter 
 mination of the British commander ap 
 peared to be to annihilate the spirit of 
 independence by trampling upon the per 
 sons of its best asserters. On their arri 
 val at St. Augustine, the prisoners were 
 offered paroles to enjoy liberty within the 
 precincts of the town. The sturdy pa 
 triot Gadsderi refused acquiescence, for 
 he disdained making further terms with 
 a power that did not regard the sanctity 
 of a solemn treaty. He was determined 
 not to be deceived a second time. " Had 
 the British commanders," said the lieu 
 tenant-governor, " regarded the terms of 
 capitulation. at Charleston, I might now, 
 although a prisoner, enjoy the smiles and 
 consolations of my family under my own 
 roof; but even without a shadow of ac 
 cusation preferred against me, for any act 
 inconsistent with my plighted faith, I am 
 torn from them, and here, in a distant 
 land, invited to enter into new engage- 
 
 7 O O 
 
 ments. I will give no parole !" " Think 
 better of it," answered Governor Tonyn, 
 who was in command ; " a second refusal 
 of it will fix your destiny : a dungeon will 
 be your future habitation." " Prepare it 
 then," rejoined the inflexible patriot. "I 
 will give no parole, so help me God!" 
 And the petty tyrant did " prepare it ;" 
 and for forty-two weeks that incorrupti 
 ble old republican of nearly threescore 
 years never saw the cheerful light of day, 
 but lay immured in the dungeon of the 
 castle of St. Augustine/ 5 
 
 * Lossing. 
 
 100 
 
 Aug. 18. 
 
 Of the prisoners taken at the battle of 
 Camden, and at Sumter s defeat 
 by Taiieton two days afterward, 
 several were selected, bound with cords, 
 and carried to Camden, where they were 
 hung without trial as rebels, under the 
 express order of Lord Cornwallis. In al 
 most every section of the state, the prog 
 ress of the British was marked with blood 
 and with other deeds of equal atrocity. 
 Many of the militia were executed on va 
 rious and worthless pretexts, and most 
 unfrequently without even the form of 
 trial; and private citizens were closely 
 confined on board of prison-ships, where 
 they perished of foul diseases and with 
 out attendance. 
 
 The spirit of the patriots was overawed 
 but not subdued by these harsh proceed 
 ings. Opposition was not extinguished. 
 The policy of the British commander was 
 short-sighted. True manhood is never 
 more resolute than when it feels itself 
 wronged ; and the Carolinians were nev 
 er more determined for their liberties 
 than in the moment of their greatest de 
 nial and disaster.* Marion and S unite r, 
 with their partisan bands, were watching 
 from their fastnesses every opportunity 
 of striking a blow for the recovery of 
 their country and their homes. 
 
 After the defeat of General Gates, Ma 
 rion had left South Carolina for a short 
 time, but soon returned to the swamps 
 and defiles below and along the San tee 
 river, and under every disadvantage con 
 tinued to struggle against an overwhelm 
 ing enemy. For weeks he could muster 
 but seventy men, and at one time this 
 
 * Simms. 
 
794 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [rAKT II. 
 
 number was reduced to only twenty-five. 
 With the saws of the neighboring mills 
 turned into sabres for his horsemen, and 
 frequently without ammunition, Marion 
 kept the hosts of the enemy at bay. 
 
 Hearing that a body of prisoners taken 
 at the defeat of Gates, about one 
 hundred and fifty in number, was 
 under march for Charleston, guarded by 
 a strong escort, Marion determined upon 
 the rescue of the captives. Placing his 
 mounted men in ambush, in one of the 
 swamps that skirt the wood from Nelson s 
 ferry to Monk s Corner, he darted upon 
 the escort and succeeded in capturing the 
 whole party. Having put the arms of 
 the British into the hands of the rescued 
 Americans, he hurried across the Santee, 
 and did not pause until his prisoners were 
 safely disposed of within the limits of 
 North Carolina. He was far upon his 
 way beyond the arm of danger before the 
 parties detached by Cornwallis, to drive 
 him from his covert, had reached the 
 scene of his enterprise. 
 
 Every scheme was adopted by the en 
 emy to ferret out Marion, and prevent the 
 inhabitants of the surrounding country 
 from joining him. A ruthless corps of Brit 
 ish soldiery, under Major Wemyss, was 
 detached to devastate that region. Scores 
 of houses were burnt on the banks of the 
 Pedee and Black rivers, but the patriotism 
 of the inhabitants was only stimulated to 
 greater efforts by these wanton cruelties ; 
 and, burning with revenge, they sought a 
 home in the camp of Marion and his men. 
 Here, with no shelter but the recesses of 
 the swamps, they suffered every hardship, 
 but felt themselves amply compensated 
 
 for all when they could sally out under 
 their brave leader and avenge their mani 
 fold wrongs upon their cruel enemy. 
 
 Marion took care that his spirited fol 
 lowers should not want opportunities for 
 action. Always on the alert, he pounced 
 upon a body of tories, under Major Gai- 
 ney, at Britton s Neck, and gained a com 
 plete victory, without losing himself a 
 single man. Again, in an hour after, he 
 fell upon Captain Barfield and some loy 
 alists, a few miles distant, and put them 
 to total rout. Colonel Tarleton was or 
 dered by Cornwallis to hunt up and strive 
 to entrap the " Swamp-Fox ;" but the indt>~ 
 fatigable British dragoon, though always 
 in full cry after him, could -not succeed, 
 for Marion skilfully turned and turned in 
 his swamp-cover, and thus eluded every 
 effort of his pursuer. Tarleton strove to 
 bring him to action, and Marion was thus 
 tempted to come out, but, finding his en 
 emy overwhelmingly strong, he retired 
 again to his secure retreats. 
 
 Cornwallis, having obtained his sup 
 plies, was prepared to begin a campaign. 
 He accordingly, early in September, de 
 tached Colonel Ferguson, the brave and 
 efficient leader of the seventy-first regi 
 ment, in advance, and proposed to follow 
 him immediately from Charlotte, in North 
 Carolina, whither he had penetrated after 
 the defeat of General Gates at Camden. 
 Ferguson was directed to visit the north 
 western settlements of the Carolinas, up 
 to the Virginia frontier, in order to en 
 courage the loyalists of that quarter to 
 vigorous action. He had under his com 
 mand a strong but disorderly force, con 
 sisting of tories and British, nearly fifteen 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] COLONEL FERGUSON AND "THE MOUNTAIN-MEN." 
 
 795 
 
 hundred in all ; and his route through the 
 country was distinguished by every sort 
 of atrocity and violence. On his march, 
 he heard of the unsuccessful attack of 
 Colonel Clarke, with about five hundred 
 Americans, upon the British garrison at 
 Augusta ; and, as the latter was now re 
 turning from Georgia, Ferguson resolved 
 to cut him off This turned the British 
 commander from his route, and he there 
 fore marched to Gilbert-town, a village on 
 the frontier, to ward the mountains. Here, 
 although far removed from the support 
 of the main body of the army under Earl 
 Cornwallis, he felt secure, as he believed 
 in that remote district there was not a 
 force which was strong enough to dare to 
 " look him in the face." Ferguson, how 
 ever, did not know the country and the 
 spirit of its people. 
 
 Westward of the Alleghanies lived " the 
 mountain-men," a race of hardy settlers, 
 who fed their flocks in the valleys and on 
 the mountain-sides. In the constant pur 
 suit of game, and in frequent rencontres 
 with the Creek and Cherokee Indians, in 
 that wild country, they had become in 
 ured to danger, and skilful in the use of 
 firearms. They were, moreover, ardent 
 patriots. The lively representations of 
 those who had suffered at the hands of 
 the British marauders, now awakened the 
 mountaineers to a sense of their own dan 
 ger. Hitherto, they had only heard of 
 war at a distance ; and, in the peaceable 
 possession of that independence for which 
 their countrymen along the seaboard had 
 been contending, they had in a measure 
 been indifferent to the issue. But the 
 approach of Colonel Ferguson aroused 
 
 them from their apathy, and they deter 
 mined to embody themselves for their 
 own defence. Such were the formidable 
 opponents who gathered their several 
 bands from remote tracts from the wa 
 ters of the Cumberland, in Virginia, or 
 from the Saluda and Savannah, in Caro 
 lina and rendezvoused in the valley of 
 the Watauga, to oppose the British com 
 mander and his troops. They came 
 nearly three thousand in number most 
 of them on horseback, but many afoot, 
 some dressed in the fringed hunting-shirt 
 and buckskin leggings, others in home 
 spun, and bearing on their shoulders the 
 long, small-bore rifle of that day.* 
 
 Colonel Ferguson, surprised by such a 
 formidable gathering, made an earnest 
 appeal to the loyalists of the country to 
 join his standard : " If you choose," said 
 he, " to be trodden upon for ever and ever 
 by a set of mongrel curs, say so at once, 
 and let women look out for real men to 
 protect them ! If you desire to live, and 
 bear the name of men, grasp your arms 
 in a moment, and run to camp !" 
 
 Finding but few of the inhabitants dis 
 posed to come to his aid, Ferguson began 
 to retire toward the main body of the 
 British army, and sent word to Cornwal 
 lis, announcing his movement, and ex 
 plaining its cause in the sudden appear 
 ance of a formidable and unexpected op 
 position. His messengers, however, were 
 were intercepted. In the meantime, he 
 crossed the Broad river, at the 
 Cherokee ford, in Yorkville dis 
 trict, with eleven hundred and tw r enty- 
 
 Oct, 1, 
 
 * Address of the Honorable John S. Preston, Yorkville, 
 South Carolina, 1855. 
 
796 
 
 five men, and took post on King s mount- 
 ain, about two miles below tbe line that 
 divides North and South Carolina, where 
 lie was so confident of the strength of his 
 position, that he wrote in one of his de 
 spatches, " All the rebels out of hell can 
 not drive me from it !" 
 
 The " mountain-men" were now follow 
 ing in hot pursuit. Being unencumbered 
 with baggage, their movements were rap 
 id and prompt. " Each man set out with 
 his blanket, knapsack, and gun, in quest 
 of Colonel Ferguson, in the same manner 
 he was used to pursue the wild beasts of 
 the forest. At night the earth afforded 
 them a bed, and the heavens a covering ; 
 the running stream quenched their thirst, 
 while a few cattle driven in their rear, to 
 gether with the supplies acquired by their 
 guns, secured them provision." 
 
 On reaching Gilbert-town, which had 
 been evacuated by Ferguson, and fearful 
 lest he might escape and form a junction 
 with Cornwallis, about nine hundred of 
 the strongest mountaineers, mounted on 
 the swiftest horses, were chosen to lead 
 the chase. 
 
 Without waiting for daylight, these 
 bold riders sped on. " The night after 
 leaving Gilbert-town, on a short halt, in 
 council, the officers selected a chief to 
 act until they could receive orders from 
 Gates. Their little army was composed, 
 then, of men nearly in equal numbers 
 from Virginia, North Carolina, and South 
 Carolina. Each band was led, rather than 
 commanded, by its own officer. Sevier, 
 Shelby, Campbell, Cleveland, Williams, 
 and M Dowell, were the colonels, and had 
 all seen hard service, either in the Indian 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 (_PART II. 
 
 wars or in this struggle. After full delib 
 eration, they unanimously elected Camp 
 bell, of Virginia,, to command in the ap 
 proaching fray.* He was a man in the 
 vigor of life not quite forty years of age 
 of pure Scotch descent, thoroughly ed 
 ucated in the classics and all the science 
 of the day, and had been a soldier from 
 his earliest manhood. He had married 
 the sister of the famous Patrick Henry, 
 and was an intimate friend of Mr. Jeffer- 
 ,son, and had joined in all the early move 
 ments of resistance. Having a large fam 
 ily connection in western Virginia, and 
 an extensive property, and that region 
 being still subject to imminent perils from 
 the Indians of Tennessee and Kentucky, 
 he declined commissions tendered him in 
 the continental army and the Virginia 
 lines, and accepted the honorable, labori 
 ous, and dangerous post of county lieu 
 tenant. In this he succeeded Evan Shel 
 by, the father of his associate in this ex 
 pedition. He immediately gave the care 
 of his family and property to a kinsman, 
 and devoted himself to the cause of free 
 dom. 
 
 " His manner was grave and dignified, 
 his person strong and graceful, his cour- 
 ao-e of the most daring and reckless char- 
 
 O O 
 
 acter,his patriotism of the sternest mould, 
 enthusiastic and uncompromising, with a 
 fierce and relentless hatred of those who 
 refused to join the patriot cause, and with 
 al a skilful, judicious, and practised officer. 
 He brought to the expedition four hun- 
 
 * It is said that Colonel Williams, of South Carolina, had 
 Governor Rutledge s commission in his pocket, as a briga 
 dier, at this very time, but that he magnanimously suppressed 
 the fact, fearing perhaps that its assertion might cause jeal 
 ousies and distrust. SIMMS. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE AMERICANS OVERTAKE FERGUSON. 
 
 797 
 
 dred and fifty men (many of them his 
 kinsmen,friends, and neighbors), of wealth 
 
 and position equal to his own ; and most 
 of them of that true Scotch-Irish breed 
 whose fathers had fought for kirk and 
 covenant, and among whose descendants 
 were the Clays, Calhouns,Scotts, and Tay 
 lors, of our day." :I: 
 
 After a hurried council, at which each 
 man sat holding his own horse, and squat 
 ting on the ground, amid the pastures of 
 Cowpens, Colonel Campbell ordered his 
 resolute followers to mount. Off they 
 went in the darkness of the night, with 
 their rifles under their arms, to protect 
 them from the pelting rain. About day 
 light they crossed the ford at Broad river, 
 twelve miles from King s mountain. Here 
 they halted and killed two beeves, from 
 which they made a hurried repast, and, 
 again springing to their saddles, did not 
 check a rein until they arrived 
 (at noon) within three miles of 
 the enemy. Halting for a moment, the 
 order was given, and passed rapidly along 
 from man to man, " Tie up overcoats, pick 
 touch-holes, prime fresh, and be ready to 
 fight !" 
 
 The neighboring farmers, aroused from 
 
 O O 
 
 their work by the clattering of hoofs, and 
 the noisy turmoil of the troopers gather 
 ing among their fields, dropped the han 
 dles of their ploughs, and, unloosing their 
 horses, came "riding bare-back, with dan 
 gling trace-chains," to join their gallant 
 countrymen. Acquainted with every foot 
 of the land, and with the exact position 
 01 the enemy, these fresh recruits offered 
 their services as guides, and now under- 
 
 * Preston. 
 
 Get, 7, 
 
 took to lead on the resolute band to the 
 mountain where the enemy had so defi 
 antly posted themselves. Their command 
 er, Colonel Ferguson, was one of the ablest 
 of the British light-infantry officers. He 
 was specially renowned as a leader of ri 
 flemen, and had himself made considera 
 ble improvements in the rifle and its use. 
 His force, as we have seen, was a mixed 
 one, and composed of British regulars and 
 loyalists. " The latter," says Simms, " it 
 was known, would fight they fought 
 with halters round their necks. They, 
 too, were expert riflemen." 
 
 The order of attack was now hurriedly 
 made by the Americans. Sevier was to 
 form the right, Cleveland and Williams 
 together the left, and Campbell the cen 
 tre, with Shelby on his left. They had 
 scarcely mounted, when a captured mes 
 senger was brought in. A paper was 
 found upon his person, which proved to 
 be a despatch from Ferguson to Cornwal- 
 lis. " Read it aloud !" was the cry of many 
 voices, which rose from those who under 
 stood and affected no military formalities. 
 It was read aloud ; and, as they listened 
 to its defiant words "I hold a position 
 on the King s mountain] and all the rebels 
 out of hell can not drive me from it!" 
 a grim smile for a moment varied the res 
 olute expression of their faces, but not a 
 loud word was uttered, as they nervously 
 clutched their rifles. With a bound they 
 were off again, and in twenty minutes 
 were in sight of the enemy s camp. 
 
 Here the pursuers drew up along the 
 bank of a little brook, and, dismounting, 
 tied their horses to the saplings and the 
 branches of the trees. Leaving a small 
 
798 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART u 
 
 guard behind them, the Americans now 
 arranged themselves in the order agreed 
 upon, and pushed on to the attack. The 
 three divisions were about equal in num 
 ber, and it was decided that all should 
 scale the mountain at the same moment 
 from the various points of starting, and 
 strive to join each other at the British 
 encampment perched on the crest of the 
 ridge. 
 
 King s mountain, one of the spurs of 
 the Alleghanies, rises precipitously above 
 the neighboring hills, from which it is di 
 vided by a deep valley and broken ra 
 vines. A narrow ridge of irregular rock 
 forms its summit, from which rugged sides 
 of outcropping slate and thick wood fall 
 steeply to the base. Colonel Ferguson 
 had perched his camp upon the top, and 
 thence looked down with defiant con 
 tempt upon the undisciplined band which 
 was now about to make the attempt to 
 drive him from his strong position. 
 
 The three divisions having taken their 
 respective positions, Campbell gave the 
 signal for the ascent, and all began simul 
 taneously to climb the mountain. Cleve 
 land, as he led his men to the attack on 
 the left, addressed them in these homely 
 but telling words : " My brave fellows, we 
 have beat the tories already, and we can 
 beat them again. They are all cowards. 
 If they had the spirit of men, they would 
 join with their fellow-citizens in support 
 ing the independence of their country. 
 When engaged with them, you are not 
 to wait for the word of command from 
 me. I will show you by my example how 
 to fight. I can undertake no more. Ev 
 ery man must consider himself as an offi 
 
 cer, and act from his own judgment. Fire 
 as fast as you can, and stand your ground 
 as long as you can. When you can do 
 no better, get behind trees, or retreat; 
 but I beg of you not to run quite off. If 
 we are repulsed, let us make a point to 
 return and renew the fight. Perhaps we 
 may have better luck in the second at 
 tempt than the first. If any of you are 
 afraid, such have leave to retire, and they 
 are requested immediately to take themselves 
 off r This was a good speech, which his 
 men could understand, and its effect was 
 such as every commander must desire. 
 
 The action now commenced. As Colo 
 nels Campbell and Shelby, at the head of 
 their men, began to lead up the centre, 
 the British fired a volley, but with little 
 effect, as their shots were badly aimed. 
 The right, under Sevier, now emerging 
 suddenly into view from a wooded hol 
 low, drew upon it the whole attention of 
 the enemy, and a severe conflict ensued. 
 Ferguson, however, finding his men no 
 match for the American riflemen, ordered 
 a charge of bayonets. This was made 
 with the usual impetuosity by the British 
 regulars, and Sevier was forced nearly to 
 the base of the mountain. 
 
 Williams and Cleveland, with the left, 
 coming up at this moment, began a mur 
 derous fire upon the right ilank of the 
 enemy, by which they diverted them from 
 the pursuitof Sevier,and drew upon them 
 selves all their fury. The charging col 
 umns, being recalled, were wheeled rap 
 idly to the right, and, making a dash at 
 Williams s and Cleveland s men, drove 
 them down the declivity before them, as 
 they had previously driven Sevier. See- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] BATTLE OF KING S MOUNTAIN. FERGUSON SLAIN. 
 
 799 
 
 ing their comrades in extremity, Camp 
 bell and Shelby pushed on nimbly in 
 front, and poured upon the British such 
 a volley, that they were forced to desist 
 from further pursuit, and retire to the 
 summit of the ridge, which they did, how 
 ever, in perfect order. 
 
 Ferguson now gathered his whole force, 
 and bore down with an impetuous charge 
 directly upon the American centre. Be 
 fore this irresistible onset, Campbell and 
 Shelby gave way. In the meanwhile, 
 however, Cleveland and Sevier, having 
 rallied their men, came to the rescue with 
 a terrible fire on either flank of the ene 
 my, and brought them suddenly to a stop. 
 The British soldiers, with poised bayonets, 
 hesitated for a moment, and then retreat 
 ed up the hill. The centre of the Ameri 
 cans now rallied, wheeled, and rushed af 
 ter them with shouts and huzzas, thinking 
 that the battle was won. 
 
 The bold Ferguson, however, was not 
 yet disposed to yield the day. Rapidly 
 throwing his men into three columns, one 
 facing each division of his foe, he made a 
 fourth charge with the bayonet. But it 
 was too late. The " mountain-men" now 
 brought to bear with effect the peculiar 
 warfare in which they had acquired skill 
 in their frequent conflicts with the wild 
 beasts and the Indian savages on the fron 
 tiers. From behind the rocks and trees, 
 under the cover of which they loaded 
 their never-missing rifles, they sprang for 
 ward and fired with such effect upon the 
 British, that they drove them back with 
 in their lines upon the ridge. 
 
 As the three divisions of the mountain 
 eers approached the summit in pursuit, 
 
 they closed together and completely sur 
 rounded their enemy. The British, thus 
 at bay, fought desperately. The regulars, 
 with firm hand, still clung to their mus 
 kets, and strove to keep off their pursu 
 ers by a vigorous use of their bayonets ; 
 while the tory volunteers, with their long 
 hunting-knives fastened in the muzzles 
 of their guns, showed in their despair no 
 less fierceness of resistance. 
 
 At every discharge of their rifles, how 
 ever, the Americans closed in, narrowing 
 more and more the fatal circle in which 
 they held their doomed enemy. " The 
 British cavalry was ordered to mount. It 
 was the very thing for the American rifle, 
 as it raised the mark clear above the bush 
 es ; and, as each man threw his leg over 
 the horse, he fell dead on the other side. 
 Ferguson, with a gallantry which seemed 
 to rise with his desperate condition, rode 
 from rank to rank and from post to post, 
 cheering, driving, and encouraging his 
 men, until he found his army pressed, act 
 ually huddled together, on the ridge, and 
 falling as fast as the Americans could load 
 and shoot." Ferguson s valor was una 
 vailing, and the success of his bayonets 
 gave him barren ground, which he could 
 only for a moment retain. Still he re 
 fused to surrender. His shrill silver whis 
 tle was heard over all the cries of the con 
 flict, as he sped from side to side. 
 
 " He determined on one more desper 
 ate charge, and, taking his position at the 
 head of his cavalry, in a voice that rose 
 loud above the din of the battle, he sum 
 moned his men to crush the d d rebels 
 
 into the earth ! "* 
 
 * Preston. 
 
800 
 
 BATTLES OP AMERICA. 
 
 The Americans heard the order, and 
 silently prepared for the conflict. Each 
 man was ordered to load, and not fire a 
 shot until the foe was within sixty paces. 
 The command was faithfully obeyed. The 
 enemy bore down from the summit of the 
 ridge in one mass, with the brave Ferguson 
 at their head. Impetuously and threaten 
 ingly, however, as they came, they were 
 soon stayed by the close fire and sure aim 
 of the Americans. Ferguson fell at the 
 first discharge, and his affrighted horse 
 went scampering down the hill. His sec 
 ond in command, Captain De Peyster, 
 when he found that his brave command 
 er was no more, and saw the fatal havoc 
 made among the troops, gave up all hope 
 of further successful resistance, hoisted 
 the white flag of surrender, and begged 
 for quarter. 
 
 The battle began about three 
 o clock in the afternoon, and last 
 ed an hour. Two hundred and forty of 
 the enemy were killed and two hundred 
 wounded ; some seven or eight hundred 
 were taken prisoners. Out of the whole 
 British force but two hundred escaped. 
 Of the Americans, only twenty-eight were 
 killed and sixty wounded. In the Vir 
 ginia division, out of the thirteen, no less 
 than twelve were officers ! Fifteen hun 
 dred stand of arms were captured. 
 
 " In this battle," says Preston, " the offi 
 cers not only went before, but every one, 
 commander, colonels, captains, all carried 
 and used the rifle in addition to the sword. 
 It thus becomes known thart the gallant 
 Williams, seeing Ferguson cheering his 
 men with his voice and famous silver 
 whistle, drew up his rifle to shoot him ; 
 
 Oct. 7, 
 
 but, perceiving that Ferguson was armed 
 only with sword and pistols, he threw 
 away his gun, exclaiming, I will have a 
 single hand-tussle with him, or die ! He 
 dashed at the Briton, but, before he reach 
 ed him, received two balls, and was borne 
 from the field by his two sons, lads of 
 fourteen and sixteen.* Williams survived 
 until the next day, and learned that the 
 victory was complete. He raised his eyes 
 to heaven, and said, I thank God for my 
 country s deliverance; and placing a hand 
 on the head of each of his children, he 
 said, God bless you, my brave boys ! tell 
 your mother and our friends I die con 
 tent/ Within a few months, those two 
 noble youths were inhumanly butchered 
 by the tories at Hay s station. 
 
 "The pure and brave Captain Edmonds- 
 ton fell in front of his company, near his 
 colonel. The stern Campbell was seen to 
 brush away a tear as that brave, good 
 friend was borne back. Edmondston lay 
 under a tree, with one hand clutching his 
 side to keep in life until the battle was 
 over. He heard the shout of victory, as 
 his commander and friend grasped his 
 other hand. He could not speak then ; 
 he kissed Campbell s hand, smiled, loosed 
 the hold which stanched in life, and the 
 Christian and patriot went to his reward. 
 Four Edmondstons fell in this fight, and, 
 with them, Craigs and Beatties, Bowens 
 and Willoughbys, Blackburrfs and Craw- 
 fords, Campbells and Cummings." 
 
 * " The tradition," says Simms, " reports that Williams 
 and Ferguson perished by each other s hands ; that, after 
 Ferguson had fallen by the pistol of Williams, and lay 
 wounded on the ground, the latter approached and offered 
 him mercy ; and that his answer was a fatal bullet from the 
 pi-stol of the dying man!" 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 VENGEANCE. GATES AND CORXWALLIS. 
 
 801 
 
 The bloody conflict of King s mountain 
 was marked by a crowning sacrifice of 
 vengeance. Ten of the prisoners loy 
 alists, conspicuous for their outlawries, 
 and well known were tried, condemned, 
 and hung, by the conquerors, almost in 
 the moment of victory. Thirty were con 
 demned, but twenty respited. They are 
 all alleged to have been notorious for 
 their crimes, the monstrous atrocity of 
 which forbade the plea of pity in the ears 
 of their captors. They had long been 
 doomed, by a thousand threats of ven 
 geance, from as many outraged enemies. 
 Something, too, is alleged in behalf of this 
 wild and summary justice, in the right 
 and policy of retaliation for the murders 
 which Cornwallis had committed on his 
 
 captives at Camden, Ninety-six, and Au 
 gusta. The deed was supposed to be justi 
 fied by that code which requires eye for 
 eye, tooth for tooth, life for life.* 
 
 To this day the traveller reads on a 
 rude stone at the foot of the scene of bat 
 tle, and near the spring from which he 
 quenches his thirst, this inscription : " Sa 
 cred to the memory of Major William 
 Chronicle, Captain John Mattocks, Wil 
 liam Robb, and John Boyd, who were 
 killed at this place on the 7th day of Oc 
 tober, 1780, fighting in defence of Amer 
 ica." On the opposite side of the stone 
 is read : "Colonel Ferguson, an officer of 
 his Britannic majesty, was defeated and 
 killed at this place on the 7th day of Oc 
 tober, 1780." 
 
 CHAPTER XCIII. 
 
 General Gates arid his Wretched Force. Lord Cornwallis discouraged. Retreat of the British. Their Sufferings and 
 Disasters. The March to Winnsborough. Illness of Cornwallis. Lord Rawdon in Command. Tarleton and Sum- 
 ter. General Greene supersedes Gates. An Affecting Incident. Life and Character of Greene. His Age and Per 
 sonal Appearance. His Manners. His Fidelity, and Friendship for Washington. 
 
 1780, 
 
 GENERAL GATES, having gathered 
 the scattered remnants of his army 
 at Ilillsborough, in North Carolina, found 
 that his whole continental force, exclu 
 sive of the militia, did not exceed fifteen 
 hundred men. These, moreover, were in 
 want of almost every necessity. En 
 camped in the woods near the town, the 
 soldiers, in lieu of tents, built wigwams 
 of fence-rails, and rudely thatched them 
 with Indian-corn sheaves. 
 101 
 
 Although in 
 
 rags, without pay, " with only a half ra 
 tion, and never with a whole one," the 
 men bore up with wonderful fortitude, 
 and cheerfully submitted to the severest 
 discipline. 
 
 In the meantime, Lord Cornwallis had 
 pushed on as far as Salisbury, near the 
 borders of Virginia ; and, in the expecta 
 tion of being able to reach that State, a 
 reinforcement of troops intended for him 
 
 Kimms. 
 
802 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [I AKT II. 
 
 under General Leslie, was ordered to en 
 ter the Chesapeake. After learning the 
 fatal result at King s mountain, however, 
 the earl was no longer disposed to pene 
 trate farther into a country whence had 
 suddenly risen such a formidable band of 
 foes as Campbell had led to victory. His 
 lordship now no longer thought of ex 
 tending his conquests northward. His 
 only care was to secure those which he 
 had already made. He was determined 
 to retire to South Carolina, and there con 
 centrate his force, lest he should be sur 
 rounded and cut off from that province 
 by some of the bold and active " mount 
 ain-men." 
 
 The retrograde movement commenced 
 about the middle of October. It was a 
 difficult and disastrous re treat, as the Brit 
 ish authorities themselves acknowledge. 
 It rained for several days without inter 
 mission, and the roads were knee-deep in 
 mud and water. The men had no tents, 
 and hardly enough food to support life. 
 At one time, they had beef and no bread ; 
 at another, bread and no beef. For five 
 days their only sustenance was the Indian 
 corn which they collected as it stood in 
 the fields. They were, moreover, greatly 
 harassed by the militia of the co nutty, 
 who would come upon them unawares, 
 and shoot down their guards and cut off 
 their foraging-parties. Nor could the ut 
 most vigilance on the part of the British 
 general secure his troops against these 
 surprises. The militia, being mounted, 
 and \\ ell acquainted with, the country, 
 were here, there, and everywhere. At 
 the most unexpected moment, a rifle-shot 
 from some covert would lay low a sentry ; 
 
 Get, 29, 
 
 and, before the alarm was fairly given, 
 the hidden marksman was again in his 
 saddle and away, without fear of pursuit 
 in that wild country, where neither foot 
 nor horse soldier ventured to follow. On 
 the march from Charlotte, single riflemen 
 often rode up within gunshot of the ene 
 my, singled out their victims, and, having 
 discharged their pieces, galloped away in 
 safety. 
 
 After this long and trying tramp, the 
 British army reached the Catawba river, 
 which they were obliged to ford at a part 
 where it was six hundred yards wide, and 
 in some places as deep as nine or ten feet. 
 The enemy now encamped at 
 Winnsborough, midway between 
 the Catawba and Broad rivers, in Fail-field 
 district, South Carolina. Here Cornwal- 
 lis was taken ill with a bilious fever, and 
 the command devolved upon the young 
 Lord Rawdon, who remained inactive, 
 however, until an answer should be re 
 ceived from General Leslie, who had ar 
 rived in the Chesapeake with a force des 
 tined for Virginia, but which Cornwallis 
 now wished to co-operate with him in the 
 Carolinas. Leslie was therefore instruct 
 ed to proceed by sea to Charleston. 
 
 The retreat of Cornwallis, following 
 thus closely upon Ferguson s defeat, and 
 the confession of weakness betrayed by 
 this retreat, gave new encouragement to 
 the Americans. They everywhere began 
 to repair in considerable numbers the 
 sparseness of population considered to 
 the camps of their respective command 
 ers. Of these there were large numbers, 
 captains and colonels, in the field, of whom 
 the historians say little ; and day by clay 
 
REYOLUTIONARY.] PARTISAN" WARFARE. DEFEAT OF WEMYSS. 
 
 803 
 
 they achieved successes, on a small scale, 
 of which but little has been reported. 
 
 These parties, with their leaders, now 
 began to acknowledge and to exercise a 
 better discipline, and to become more effi 
 cient as soldiers. They had suffered too 
 many disasters from the neglect of duty 
 by the militia not to feel the necessity of 
 vigilance, and a better observance of the 
 duties of the regular service. The legis 
 lature of North Carolina put all the mili 
 tia of the state under General Smallwood, 
 of the continental army. Generals Sum- 
 ner and Davidson had likewise large com 
 mands of militia, and were good officers. 
 Major Davie was also an active and effi 
 cient partisan of that state, as were Shel 
 by, Se vie r,M/Do well, and Lock. Georgia 
 contributed several able officers, in Colo 
 nels Clark, M Call, Jackson, and Twiggs; 
 and there was not a precinct in South 
 Carolina that had not some body of troops 
 in the field, under a favorite leader, Ham 
 mond, the Hamptons, Harden, Cleveland, 
 as well as Marion, Sumter, and Pickens. 
 
 It was one of the mistakes of the Brit 
 ish to suppose that the spirit of the coun 
 try, thus excited and active, could be sub 
 dued by cruelty and terror. Cornwallis 
 issued his orders to hang, and burn, and 
 oppress the " rebels," in every possible 
 way; and his lieutenants, such as Tarle- 
 ton, Wemyss, and others, were not unwil 
 ling to follow out his decrees to the ful 
 lest extent of privilege and persecution 
 which they allowed.* 
 
 The active British cavalry-leader, find 
 ing all attempts to surprise the ever-vigi 
 lant Marion futile, now directed his eflbrts 
 
 * Sirnms. 
 
 Aug. 18, 
 
 against the audacious Sumter. This gal 
 lant partisan-leader, after the surprise of 
 his band, had soon collected an 
 other, composed of the remnant 
 of his old corps and some fresh volunteers 
 from among the people of York district, 
 a section of the state which had never 
 made any concessions to the invaders. 
 Though unsupported by any continental 
 force, Sumter was enabled to keep the 
 field. Varying his position about the En- 
 oree, Broad, and Tiger rivers, he made 
 frequent attacks upon the British. He 
 beat up their quarters, cut off their con 
 voys, and kept them in a constant state 
 of alarm and disquietude. Having re 
 cruited his command to an imposing force, 
 he advanced within twenty-eight miles 
 of the British camp at Winnsborough. 
 
 This audacity suggested to Cornwallis 
 a plan of surprising him in his encamp 
 ment. Such importance was attached to 
 securing his individual person, that an 
 officer, with five dragoons, had it special 
 ly in charge to force their way to his tent 
 and take him, dead or alive. " The Gamc- 
 Coclc" as Sumter was called by the Caro 
 linians, was, in the language of his lord 
 ship, the greatest trouble which the Brit 
 ish had encountered in the country. 
 
 The conduct of this enterprise was in 
 trusted to Major Wemyss, who, with a con 
 siderable force of cavalry and infantry, 
 approached the encampment of the par 
 tisan leader at Broad river with equal 
 promptitude and caution. Fortunately, 
 Sumter had given unusual strength to his 
 advanced guard. His force had lain so 
 long in its position, that he naturally ex 
 pected attack. Colonel Taylor, by whom 
 
804 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAUT ii. 
 
 Xov, 12. 
 
 the advanced guard was commanded, had 
 taken particular precautions. Fires had 
 been lighted in front of his line, and his 
 men were ordered, in case of alarm, to 
 form so far in the rear of the fires as to 
 be concealed, while the approaching ene 
 my would be conspicuous in their light. 
 The videttes and pickets did 
 their duty, and the guard was 
 ready to receive the attack. A murder 
 ous discharge prostrated twenty-three of 
 the British as they reached the fires. The 
 rest recoiled, then retreated for a hundred 
 yards before they rallied. They were 
 brought again steadily to the attack, and 
 a close conflict followed ; but the well- 
 directed fire of the Americans completed 
 what their advanced guard had so well 
 be^un. The British were driven from the 
 
 O 
 
 field, and found safety only in the dark 
 ness of the night. Wemyss fell into the 
 hands of the Americans, being wounded 
 through both thighs, and deserted by his 
 men in the precipitation of their flight. 
 
 After this affair, Sumter changed his 
 position ; and Tarleton, having given up 
 his vain pursuit of Marion, now turned 
 in headlong chase after the former, whom 
 he overtook at Blackstock s,near 
 Tiger river, and had no difficulty 
 in bringing him to action. Blackstock s 
 house, situated on the southwest bank of 
 the stream, consisted of a large van, built 
 of logs, the apertures of which formed 
 capital loopholes for marksmen. It af 
 forded a favorable position for the em 
 ployment of a small force in battle, and 
 Sumter stationed his troops so as to avail 
 himself of all its advantages. On this oc 
 casion, he had with him Clarke, 
 
 
 
 Kov, 20, 
 
 and Chandler, of Georgia ; and Colonels 
 Thomas, Bratton, and Majors M Call and 
 Samuel Hammond, of South Carolina, who 
 had joined forces with his some ten days 
 before. Notdoubting that Tarleton s en 
 tire force was upon him, he resolved to 
 maintain his ground during the day, and, 
 under cover of the night, escape across 
 the river. 
 
 Tarleton s command consisted of his le 
 gion, a battalion of the seventy-first regi 
 ment, a detachment of the sixty-third, and 
 a lieutenant s command of the royal ar 
 tillery, with one fieldpiece. But, of this 
 force, only four hundred mounted men 
 had yet come up with the Americans. 
 
 As soon as Sumter made this discovery, 
 his plans were changed ; and he resolved 
 to commence the attack, and cut up his 
 enemy in detail. Tarleton, supposing that 
 he had the game in his own hands, had, 
 immediately on arriving, secured an ele 
 vated piece of ground in front of Sumter s 
 position, and, dismounting his men to re 
 lieve themselves and horses, prepared to 
 await the arrival of his infantry and ar 
 tillery. 
 
 But the assault of Sumter compelled 
 him to take to his arms. The Americans 
 descended from their heights, and poured 
 in a well-directed fire upon the enemy. 
 They were met by the bayonet, and, be 
 ing armed only with rifles, were obliged 
 to retire. The British now advanced, but 
 were met by a reserve of rifles, which pros 
 trated many and repulsed the rest. As 
 he beheld his danger, Tarleton ordered 
 a second and desperate charge, directly 
 up the hill ; but the Americans stood firm, 
 and received him with their rifles, under 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] TAULETOX S DEFEAT. REMOVAL OF GATES. 
 
 805 
 
 the united fire of which his men could not 
 be made to stand. Drawing off his whole 
 force, he now wheeled upon Sumter s left, 
 where the ground was less precipitous. 
 Tarleton was here met by a little corps 
 of Georgians, about one hundred and fifty 
 in number, who displayed the courage of 
 veterans. Clarke and Hammond, espe 
 cially, distinguished themselves in this 
 action. But the pressure of the whole 
 British force was too much for them to 
 contend against. They yielded, after a 
 noble resistance, and gave way ; but the 
 timely interposition of the reserve, under 
 Colonel Winn, and the fire of a company 
 stationed at the house, determined the 
 issue. Tarleton fled, leaving nearly two 
 hundred men upon the field of conflict. 
 The loss of the Americans was trifling, but 
 their brave commander received a severe 
 wound in the breast, which kept him for 
 several months from active service. On 
 being disabled, Colonel Twiggs succeeded 
 to the command.* 
 
 Lord Cornwallis having retired to the 
 south, General Gates moved his force and 
 took post at Charlotte, soon after its evac 
 uation by the enemy, in the latter part 
 of October, with the view of making it 
 his winter-quarters. While here, Gates 
 was overwhelmed with misfortune. First 
 came the sad intelligence of the death of 
 his only son ; and next followed a de 
 spatch informing him that he had been 
 superseded in the command of the south 
 ern department by General Greene. 
 
 Heavy, however, as were these blows, 
 General Gates s sensibility was still more 
 wrought upon by an affecting incident 
 
 Simms. 
 
 which we give in the words of an eye 
 witness: "I found him," says the narra 
 tor, " traversing the apartment which he 
 occupied, under the influence of high ex 
 citement. His agitation was excessive ; 
 every feature of his countenance, every 
 gesture, betrayed it. Official despatches, 
 informing him that he was superseded, 
 and that the command of the southern 
 army had been transferred to General 
 Greene, had just been received and pe 
 rused by him. His countenance, however, 
 betrayed no expression of irritation or re 
 sentment; it was sensibility alone that 
 caused his emotion. An open letter, which 
 he held in his hand, was often raised to 
 his lips and kissed with devotion, while 
 the exclamation repeatedly escaped them 
 i Great man ! Noble, generous proce 
 dure ! When the tumult of his mind had 
 subsided, and his thoughts found utter 
 ance, he with strong expression of feeling 
 exclaimed : I have received this day a 
 communication from the commander-in- 
 chief, which has conveyed more consola 
 tion to my bosom, more ineffable delight 
 to my heart, than I had believed it pos 
 sible for it ever to have felt again. With 
 affectionate tenderness he sympathizes 
 with me in my domestic misfortunes, and 
 condoles with me on the loss I have sus 
 tained by the recent death of an only son ; 
 and then, with peculiar delicacy, lament 
 ing my misfortune in battle, assures me 
 that his confidence in my zeal and capa 
 city is so little impaired, that the com 
 mand of the right wing of the army will 
 be besto\ved on me as soon as I can make 
 it convenient to join him. "* 
 
 c Thacher. 
 
806 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAHT II. 
 
 Dec, 4, 
 
 General Greene now arrived at Char 
 lotte, to assume the command of 
 the southern army. As we are 
 about to narrate the history of a cam 
 paign in which this Revolutionary hero, 
 although heretofore among the most con 
 spicuous of Washington s generals, won 
 his most signal triumphs, it seems appro 
 priate that we should here briefly record 
 the early incidents of his life. 
 
 NATHANIEL GREENE was born at Warwick, 
 in Rhode Island, May 27, 1742, on the 
 banks of the Potonhommeth, where his 
 father, a blacksmith by trade, worked a 
 mill and forge. The elder Greene was a 
 rigid Quaker, and frequently held forth 
 at the " meeting," where he was noted as 
 among the soundest and most forcible of 
 the preachers. The son was brought up 
 in the strictest principles of the sect, but 
 early exhibited a desire to give his mind 
 a freer scope than was conformable with 
 the restricted views of his somewhat as 
 cetic father. With a strong passion for 
 books, the young Greene was resolved 
 upon pursuing a course of more liberal 
 study than could be taught by the well- 
 thumbed family bible and the old homi 
 lies on the paternal book-shelf. He re 
 ceived no encouragement in this pursuit 
 from his father, who looked suspiciously 
 upon an} wanderings in the fields of "pro 
 fane" literature. The youth, however, suc 
 ceeded by his own efforts in buying books 
 and reading them, in spite of the paternal 
 protest. The father, at last finding how 
 resolute his son was in the pursuit of 
 learning, ceased to thwart him, and final 
 ly allowed him to provide himself with a 
 teacher, who was able to impart to the 
 
 earnest student of fortune the elements 
 of Latin and mathematics. The black 
 smith s son at the same time was no less 
 busy at his father s forge ; and, while his 
 mind was ripening with study, his body 
 was daily growing in strength. The fa 
 ther, moreover, finding thai the youth s 
 ardor for learning did not lessen his labor 
 or diminish its profits, ceased to oppose, 
 though he continued to regret, the world 
 ly tastes of his son. 
 
 The severity of the Quaker was, how 
 ever, too rigid to relax when he found 
 that his son was not only devoted to "pro 
 fane" studies, but was likewise given to 
 " profane" amusements. The youth, now 
 over eighteen, was tempted by the charms 
 of the gay daughters of the neighborhood 
 to indulge in the pleasures of the dance. 
 But these were only to be enjoyed secret 
 ly ; and the young man would steal away 
 at night, when the whole house was quiet 
 in sleep, and, after taking his fill of the 
 forbidden enjoyment, return cautiously 
 to his bed again without disturbing the 
 
 o o 
 
 repose or agitating the principles of the 
 slumbering Quaker. He was not always, 
 however, equally lucky. 
 
 There was a great ball in the neighbor 
 hood, to which young Greene had been 
 secretly invited. In the night, watching 
 his opportunity, he made his escape by 
 the usual window, and after dancing, the 
 gayest of the gay, until midnight, groped 
 his way homeward. Arriving near the 
 house, his eye caught a glimpse of his fa 
 ther, standing, with a whip in his hand, 
 below the window through which alone 
 he could gain entrance. " There was no 
 means of escaping him. The stern old 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 807 
 
 Quaker was one of that class of people 
 who are apt to unite the word and blow 
 together, the latter being quite likely to 
 make itself felt before the other. In this 
 emergency, conscious that there was no 
 remedy against or rescue from the rod, 
 young Greene promptly conceived an 
 idea which suggests a ready capacity for 
 military resource. A pile of shingles lay 
 at hand ; and, before he supposed his fa 
 ther to behold his approach, he insinuated 
 beneath his jacket a sufficient number of 
 thin layers of shingle to shield his back 
 and shoulders from the thong. With this 
 secret corslet he approached and received 
 his punishment with the most exemplary 
 fortitude."* 
 
 Greene, however, never allowed his 
 love of pleasure to master his habits of 
 industry and study. He pursued his busi 
 ness so steadily, and so much to the sat- 
 isfaction of his father, that in his increas 
 ing prosperity he made him his partner, 
 and manager of a new mill which he erect 
 ed at Coventry. The son, in the mean 
 time, added to his librarv, and increased 
 
 / / 
 
 his acquirements. Young Greene soon 
 became a noticeable person from his ac 
 complishments, and, as he sympathized 
 with the popular sentiment in political 
 affairs which were at that time agitated 
 by the quarrels with the mother-country, 
 he soon became prominent as a revolu 
 tionist. When, however, on the prospect 
 of war, he began to add the works of mil 
 itary authors to his library, and to carry 
 out their principles in actively organizing 
 the militia of the neighborhood, his peace 
 ful fellow-Quakers first rebuked, and, at 
 
 Life of General Greene, by W. Gilmore Simms. 
 
 last, when they found him pertinacious, 
 "read him out of meeting." 
 
 In 1770, Greene was elected a member 
 of the general assembly of the colony of 
 Rhode Island. In 1774, he enrolled him 
 self in the ranks of the "Kentish Guards;" 
 and in the same year he married Cathe 
 rine Littlefield. whose attractions had first 
 led him to those forbidden balls. After 
 the battle of Lexington, in April, 1775, 
 he was raised to the command of the mi 
 litia of Rhode Island, with the rank of 
 major-general. His subsequent career, till 
 his appointment to the head of the south 
 ern armies, has been already fully nar 
 rated in the course of this history. 
 
 At the beginning of the Revolutionary 
 War, Greene was thirty-three years of 
 age. His personal appearance at this pe 
 riod was impressive. In height he was 
 about five feet and ten or eleven inches. 
 His figure was stout and muscular. His 
 face, though somewhat disfigured by a 
 blemish in one of his eyes from the effects 
 of small-pox, was pleasing from the fresh 
 ness of its complexion and the elevation 
 of its expression. His air was that of a 
 calm and thoughtful person, rather than 
 of an impulsive man of action. He was, 
 however, elastic in his movements, though 
 his right leg was slightly lame from the 
 effects of his severe labors in early life. 
 His manners were quiet, but courteous ; 
 and General Greene, notwithstanding the 
 rude experiences of his youth, was notice 
 able as among the most gentlemanly as 
 well as accomplished of the American of 
 ficers. He was greatly beloved by Wash- 
 in o-ton, and was held in such general es- 
 
 O / O 
 
 teem, that it was common to speak of him 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 as th e probable successor to the command- 
 er-in-chief, should any misfortune have de 
 prived the country of his great services. 
 Washington always relied upon him in 
 his severest trials. On the discovery of 
 Arnold s treason while the chief hardly 
 
 knew whom to trust, he did not hesitate 
 to confide the command of West Point to 
 General Greene ; and again, when the 
 southern country in its despair called for 
 succor, it was Greene whom Washington 
 sent to raise it from its despondency .* 
 
 CHAPTER XCIV. 
 
 Interview between Generals Greene and Gates. Generous Friendship of Greene. Retirement of Gates. Gratitude ot 
 Virginia. Greene and his Troops. Good Feeling and Good Service. State of the Country. Success of Morgan. 
 The Rugelys surrender. An Unlucky Colonel. Greene on the Pedee. Earl Cornwallis for North Carolina. Tarle- 
 ton pushing ahead. Pursuit of Morgan. Morgan at Cowpens. Tactics. Disposition of Troops. Morgan to his 
 Men. The Battle. American Victory. Colonel Washington. The Resolute Tarleton. Washington and Tarleton. 
 Personal Conflict. Losses. Lord Cornwallis on a March. Lightening the Troops. Quick Pursuit. Morgan for 
 the Catawba. 
 
 1789, 
 
 THE interview between Generals 
 Greene and Gates at Charlotte was 
 marked by every manifestation of cour 
 tesy. The former was modest in assu 
 ming, while the latter was diinii- 
 Uec, 4, f 
 
 fied in resigning, the command. 
 
 General Greene was announced to the 
 army as commanding officer ; and on the 
 same day the new general addressed the 
 troops, and paid his predecessor the com 
 pliment of confirming all his standing or 
 ders. 
 
 Directions had been given that a court 
 of inquiry should be instituted by Greene 
 on his arrival, to investigate the conduct 
 of Gates at Camden ; but, as Baron Steu- 
 ben had been left in command in Virginia, 
 there was no major-general to fill the va 
 cancy in the number requisite to consti 
 tute the court. The investigation was 
 accordingly postponed ; and Greene, who 
 looked with great indulgence upon his un- 
 
 Dcc. 5. 
 
 fortunate predecessor, pleaded his cause 
 so successfully, that Congress was finally 
 induced to rescind its resolution, and to 
 restore Gates to his old command in the 
 northern army. The unhappy general, 
 subdued by private griefs and public mis 
 fortune, started on his way to the 
 North the day after Greene s ar 
 rival at Charlotte, and in the meanwhile 
 retired to his "Traveller s Rest" as his es 
 tate was called, in Virginia. The general 
 assembly of his adopted state generously 
 consoled the feelings of the fallen officer 
 by appointing a committee to wait upon 
 him, and assure him of the high regard 
 and esteem in which he was held by its 
 members, and that their remembrance of 
 his former glorious services was never to 
 be obliterated by any reverse of fortune 
 
 At the close of the Revolution, General Greene returned 
 to Rhode Island. In 1785, he removed with his family to 
 Georgia, where he died suddenly in June of the following 
 year, in the forty-fourth year of his age. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] ARRIVAL OF GREENE. RETIREMENT OF GATES. 
 
 809 
 
 Ever mindful of his great merit, they de 
 clared that they would omit no opportu 
 nity of testifying to the world the grati 
 tude which Virginia, as a member of the 
 American Union, owed to him in his mili 
 tary character.* 
 
 * In the neighborhood of Leetown, in Jefferson (formerly 
 Berkeley) county. Virginia not far beyond the Blue Ridge 
 and the Shenandoah, but nearer still to theOpequan, anoth 
 er stream which has had the good fortune to retain its musi 
 cal Indian name are the ancient and dilapidated residences 
 of three distinguished generals of the Revolution. Here, 
 within a radius of a mile or two, lived, long and weary years, 
 CHARLES LEE, the sinister hero of Monrnouth ; HOHATIO 
 GATES, loser of the battle of Camden, and of the southern 
 campaign : ADAM STEPHEN, the early friend of Washington, 
 but whose irregular habits induced Congress to remove him 
 from his command of a division and to bestow it upon the 
 marquis Lafayette ; and WILLIAM DAKKE, a hero of the 
 frontier, and the victor in a hundred personal combats with 
 the savages. In this little valley, beneath the shadow of the 
 great forests, remote from camps and the flashing world, 
 whose light and noise never penetrated the remote depths of 
 their retirement, these first-named warriors rusted out long 
 years of vigorous manhood in inglorious repose, their swords 
 in moth-eaten scabbards, their hearts in the great struggle 
 which approached its termination, but their bodies far away 
 from it. The eccentric career and death of General Lee 
 have already been detailed. 
 
 Somewhat removed from the county road, and between 
 the little villages of Kerneysville and Leetown, stood, and 
 still stands, the house of " Traveller s Rest," to which Gates 
 retired after the disastrous day of Camden. The only pecu 
 liarity perhaps worth noting in the dwelling, is the appear 
 ance of one of the apartments. It is a large room in one 
 wing of the house, with three windows, singularly arranged. 
 The origin of so eccentric an arrangement was, that some of 
 General Gates s family in England sent him, while the man 
 sion was in process of construction, three large damask cur 
 tains, of resplendent color then a great luxury. The win 
 dows of the great dining-room were made to fit these cur 
 tains, and they duly took their place. The house is going 
 to ruin. This banqueting-room was lately used as a corn- 
 crib by the owner of the estate. Alas for human pride, and 
 the glory of the world which passes away ! 
 
 Gates went to Mount Vernon to see Washington imme 
 diately upon his arrival from England ; and here he met 
 with Lee, an old friend and companion in-arms. As yet the 
 three men thus assembled were as brothers, consulting upon 
 the safety of the republic. But when the Revolution broke 
 out. and Washington was made its chief, both Lee and Gates 
 had their partisans, who advocated a change of leadership, 
 the deposition of Washington, and the substitution of one or 
 the other of the successful Englishmen. Gates was known 
 102 
 
 Dec. 10, 
 
 General Greene found himself in com 
 mand of the mere shadow of an army. 
 He brought with him no troops, and but 
 a single aid-de-camp. The returns of the 
 whole force, made six days after 
 he joined the army at Charlotte, 
 gave but nine hundred and seventy con 
 tinentals and eleven hundred and thirteen 
 militia. The soldiers, moreover, were des 
 titute of pay, tents, or blankets, only half 
 clothed, and were but scantily supplied 
 with food and ammunition. Greene felt 
 the difficulties of his position. " Good 
 feeding," he says, " is the first principle 
 of good service. It is impossible to pre 
 serve discipline where troops are in want 
 of everything ; to attempt severity will 
 
 to desire it, and to work for the result. His attempt to cor 
 rupt the inflexible Morgan is well known, and the great sol 
 dier s noble reply: "I have one favor to ask of you, which is, 
 never to mention that detestable subject to me again ; for 
 under no other man than Washington, as commander-in- 
 chief, will I ever serve !" 
 
 The battle of Camden came; and Gates, the conqueror of 
 Burgoyne, the rival of Washington, came here to this house 
 of the "Traveller s Rest unattended and alone. Alas, how 
 fallen from his high estate! So ended the military career of 
 this man (who had shone as the king of the camp) as the ca 
 reer of Lee had ended. Gates did not die as unhappily as 
 his old companion, however. He removed, finally, to New 
 York ; served in the legislature there in 1800; and died in 
 April, 1806 (in the seventy-eighth year of his age), in his 
 house on Rose hill, near what is now the corner of Twenty- 
 third street and Second avenue. Washington had been dead 
 for nearly seven years, but "still lived" a more enduring life 
 than before. But Gates had died nearly a generation before, 
 on the day of Camden ! 
 
 Gates always preserved a bland and courteous carriage, 
 with no little dignity of tone and address, as may be seen in 
 his correspondence, even when laboring under the severest 
 public odium. Personally, the contrast with his friend Lee 
 was very striking. The former was tall, thin, rude in his 
 manners, and slovenly in his apparel. Gates was full-faced, 
 with a florid complexion, and inclined to corpulency. His 
 manners were those of a courtier insinuating, mild, and 
 specious, producing in all the impression that he was famil 
 iar with "public offices and ante-chambers," and that he 
 would flatter and wheedle gentleman or commoner to gain 
 his ends. Harper $ Magazine, September, 1858. 
 
810 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 only thin the ranks by a more hasty de 
 sertion." 
 
 The southern country, too, with its ex 
 tensive territory, its feeble administration 
 of government, and its dissensions, was in 
 
 o 
 
 a condition unfavorable for a campaign. 
 The whigs and tories were pursuing each 
 other with the most barbarous rage ; and 
 the interior was so disaffected, that it was 
 impossible to send out a wagon with the 
 smallest load of stores without a guard. 
 The very face of the country, seamed with 
 deep rivers and impassable creeks, and 
 with morasses, rendered every military 
 manoeuvre liable to the most fatal chances. 
 Greene, however, who was " capable of 
 doing much with little," met every diffi 
 culty with a manly resistance, and by his 
 energetic perseverance effected such a tri 
 umph over natural and artificial obstacles 
 as secured him final success. 
 
 The British regular army at this time, 
 in South Carolina, numbered five thou 
 sand men, exclusive of loyalists, and were 
 so stationed as to cover the most impor 
 tant precincts in the state. They were 
 thus enabled to overawe the populous set 
 tlements. The garrison atWinnsborough 
 (which was now the headquarters of Earl 
 Cornwallis) completed a chain of posts 
 which the enemy had established, from 
 Georgetown to Augusta, in a circle, the 
 centre of which, equidistant from Charles 
 ton and Savannah, would have been Beau 
 fort, in South Carolina. These posts con 
 sisted of Georgetown, Camden, Winnsbor- 
 ough, Ninety-six, and Augusta. Within 
 this circle was another chain of posts, con 
 sisting of Fort Watson, on the road to 
 Camden ; Motte s house ; and Granby, on 
 
 the Congaree. Dorchester, Orangeburg, 
 Monk s Corner, and other places, were for 
 tified as posts of rest, deposite, and com 
 munication. These stations were all ju 
 diciously chosen, as well for procuring 
 subsistence as for covering the country. 
 
 At this period there were three distinct 
 commands of the South-Carolina militia: 
 Marion, in the low country; Sumter, in 
 the middle ; Williams, in the upper; and, 
 after his death, Pickens, assisted or sec 
 onded by Colonels Clarke and Twiggs, of 
 Georgia.* 
 
 While General Gates was still in com 
 mand of the remnant of the defeated ar 
 my at Hillsborough, in North Carolina, he 
 had detached Brigadier-General Morgan, 
 early in October, with three hundred Del 
 aware and Maryland continental troops, 
 and some eighty dragoons, under Colonel 
 William Washington, to assist the patriots 
 in the counties of Mecklenburg and Row 
 an. Passing over the border into South 
 Carolina, this force now occupied the very 
 ground which had witnessed the defeat 
 of Gates. 
 
 On the very day of Greene s arrival at 
 Charlotte, General Morgan, who had been 
 sent into the country toward Camden on 
 a foraging-excursion, returned with no 
 cattle or grain, it is true, but with the re 
 port of a small triumph over the enemy, 
 which was hailed by the troops as a hap 
 py omen of prosperity under their new 
 leader. A Mr. Hugely, proprietor of the 
 estate of Clermont, near Camden, and a 
 devoted loyalist, had been raised to the 
 rank of lieutenant-colonel of militia, and 
 his son-in-law to that of major, in the ene- 
 
 * Simms. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] HUGELY CAPTURED. MOVEMENT OF GREENE. 
 
 811 
 
 my s service. Fortifying a large log-barn 
 with intrenchrnents and abattis, the Ruge- 
 lys garrisoned it with about a hundred 
 troops, regulars and volunteers. Morgan, 
 on his return from his unsuccessful fora- 
 ging-expedition, ordered Colonel Wash 
 ington with his troop of cavalry to go and 
 reconnoitre the post. The colonel, find 
 ing on his approach that the garrison was 
 evidently in a state of alarm, determined 
 to profit by it. Being without artillery, 
 and as it was useless to attempt to carry 
 the stockade by a cavalry-charge, Wash 
 ington resorted to a stratagem, in the ab 
 sence of the proper materials of war. He 
 accordingly dismounted his men, in order 
 that they might appear as infantry. A 
 pine-log, ingeniously hewn so as to resem 
 ble a fieldpiece, and mounted upon a pair 
 of wagon-wheuls, was brought up with 
 due formalities and pointed tow 
 ard the fort. This innocent piece 
 of timber, thus brought to bear upon the 
 eyes of the garrison, if not upon its works, 
 was invested by the militiamen with such 
 formidable power, that when a corporal of 
 dragoons was sent to summon the Rui> - e- 
 
 o o 
 
 lys to surrender, they were exceedingly 
 glad to find a prompt acceptance of their 
 submission. They did not hesitate a mo 
 ment in complying, and the whole garri 
 son marched out prisoners-of-war. But 
 the surrender was fatal to Colonel Ruge- 
 ly, as a hero and military man. His hope 
 of promotion was for ever cut off by his 
 too ready recognition of this new instru 
 ment of warfare. "Rugely will not be 
 made a brigadier-general," was the signifi 
 cant comment of Lord Cornwallis when 
 he was informed of this ludicrous event. 
 
 Dec, 4, 
 
 The unlucky colonel did not again appear 
 in arms.* 
 
 General Greene now moved his army 
 from Charlotte. The division under the 
 command of Brigadier-General Morgan, 
 and composed of four hundred continen 
 tal infantry, under Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Howard, of the Maryland line, two com 
 panies of Virginia militia, under Captains 
 Triplett and Tait, and a troop of a hun 
 dred dragoons, under Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Washington, numbering in all about one 
 thousand men, was ordered to pass the 
 Catawba. Morgan was directed to add 
 to his ranks from the militia on his route, 
 and take post near the junction of Broad 
 and Pacolet rivers, toward the station of 
 Ninety-six, in Union District, South Caro 
 lina, and some fifty miles to the left of 
 Lord Cornwallis, at Winnsborough. 
 
 The general-iii-chief marched the main 
 body down the Pedee, and encamped on 
 its eastern bank, at the junction of Hick s 
 creek, nearly opposite to Cheraw hill, and 
 about seventy miles to the right of Corn 
 wallis. "I am here," wrote Greene, "in 
 my camp of repose, improving 
 the discipline and spirits of my 
 men, and the opportunity for looking 
 about me. I am well satisfied with this 
 movement, for it has answered thus far 
 all the purposes for which I intended it. 
 It makes the most of my inferior force, for 
 it compels my adversary to divide his, and 
 holds him in doubt as to his own line of 
 conduct. He can not leave Morgan be 
 hind him to come at me, or his posts O A 
 Ninety-six and Augusta would be exposed. 
 And he can not chase Morgan far, or pros- 
 
 * Irving. 
 
 Dec. 26. 
 
812 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAUT II. 
 
 ecute his views upon Virginia, while I am 
 here, with the whole country open before 
 
 Greene had now stationed himself in 
 a fertile region near the head of boat-nav 
 igation on the Pedee, which had not yet 
 been traversed by an army of any mag 
 nitude. From this point he despatched 
 his engineers to explore the country. The 
 routes in all directions were carefully set 
 down; and, with Governor Rutledge, of 
 South Carolina, in his camp, he was not 
 suffered to remain in ignorance of any 
 matters which he deemed essential to his 
 contemplated invasion of the state. 
 
 While Generals Gates and Greene had 
 been busy in the accumulation of an army, 
 it must not be supposed that the little 
 bands under Marion and other partisan 
 commanders had been inactive. Marion, 
 whose mode of warfare had acquired for 
 him the nom de guerre o( "T/ie Swamp-Fox" 
 was never inactive. " Hundreds of little 
 successes," says Simms, " that do not prop 
 erly belong to the main stream of regular 
 history,yet concurred to render his career 
 memorable, and to influence equally the 
 hopes of his countrymen and the hostility 
 of the enemy. His command was a pe 
 culiar one, being chiefly formed from the 
 little and insulated section of country in 
 which he lived. His warriors were his 
 neighbors and friends, and the tie that 
 bound them together brought, into equal 
 activity the duty of the soldier and the 
 affections of the comrade. * Marion s bri 
 gade was the extra-military epithet which 
 distinguished his command. It might con 
 sist of live or five hundred it was still 
 Marion s brigade a membership in 
 
 which had a sort of Masonic value in the 
 estimation of his followers, which amply 
 compensated for all its privations and fa 
 tigues. Constantly active, it would be im 
 possible for the pen of the historian to fol 
 low the progress of the little corps." 
 
 After surprising Major Gainey and his 
 large band of tories which he had collect 
 ed between the Great and Little Pedee, 
 Marion defeated a second party of tories 
 at Shepherd s ferry, near Black Mingo 
 swamp. The loyalists were well posted 
 to receive the attack, and a desperate con 
 flict ensued. The parties were so near 
 each other, during the greater part of the 
 fight, that the wadding of their guns con 
 tinually struck on each side. Neither 
 party had bayonets, and buckshot was 
 quite as frequently used as ball. 
 
 This victory increased the " brigade" 
 to nearly four hundred men, with which 
 Marion inarched upon Colonel Tynes, who 
 had raised a large force of loyalists upon 
 Black river. Tynes was surprised, several 
 of his men slain, and his force dispersed, 
 while Marion lost not a man. In all these 
 inarches and conflicts, the partisans lived 
 entirely in the swamps, with no shelter 
 but the forest, almost without blankets or 
 clothing, commonly with no food but po 
 tatoes, and meat without salt. Marion 
 himself, for a long time, had neither hat 
 nor blanket ! 
 
 The arrival of General Greene abridged 
 the independence of Marion s movements. 
 His brigade constituted a portion of the 
 men of the state, and was necessarily com 
 prised within the command of that officer. 
 The activity, courage, and successful con 
 duct of Marion, indicated him to Greene 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE BRITISH OFFICER DIXIXG WITH MARION. 
 
 813 
 
 Jan, 25, 
 
 as one well calculated, by his knowledge 
 of the country, for active employment; 
 and Colonel Henry Lee being joined to 
 his "brigade," a combined attempt was 
 made to surprise the strong British post 
 at Georgetown, on Winyaw bay, for the 
 purpose of obtaining supplies. This was 
 a more serious business than Marion had 
 yet undertaken. The town was entered, 
 and many w r ere killed and taken ; but the 
 garrison was on the alert, and, after a se 
 vere skirmish with a large party of Brit 
 ish and tories near the town, he was re 
 pulsed with loss. The failure of the as 
 sailants is ascribed to various causes ; but 
 the alarm of the guides, who missed their 
 way, and thus defeated the plan 
 of co-operation between the sev 
 eral parties, is a sufficient reason. With 
 this affair, General Greene opened the 
 campaign of 1781. 
 
 This failure, however, was more than 
 compensated by a brilliant event which 
 happened a few days before in the west 
 ern extremity of the state, to which Gen 
 eral Greene had detached Morgan with a 
 strong force, in order to restrain the bru 
 tal passions of the loyalists in that quar 
 ter. Shortly after his arrival, Morgan sent 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Washington, with a 
 regiment of foot and two hundred horse, 
 to attack a body of tories who had been 
 plundering the whig inhabitants. Wash 
 ington came up with them near Ham 
 mond s store, charged them vigorously, 
 and defeated them. General Cunning 
 ham, with a detachment of one hundred 
 and fiftj British militia, was also dispersed 
 by a party of Americans under Cornet 
 Simons, of Washington s command. 
 
 After the repulse of Marion at George 
 town, he marched up the country to the 
 confluence of Lynch s creek and the Pe- 
 dee, and formed a stationary camp upon 
 Snow s island, which consisted chiefly of 
 high-river swamp, dry, and covered with 
 a heavy forest abounding in game. He 
 fortified it as well as his means would al 
 low ; and from that almost inaccessible re 
 treat he led and sent out detachments, as 
 circumstances required, for many weeks, 
 which accomplished wonderful results in 
 harassing the superior foe, cutting off his 
 convoys, or breaking up, before they could 
 well embody, the gathering and undisci 
 plined loyalists. It was while encamped 
 upon this island, toward the close of 1780, 
 that an event occurred which, insignificant 
 in itself, is peculiarly illustrative of the 
 heroism displayed by the Americans at 
 that period, under the greatest privations. 
 A young British officer was sent from the 
 post at Georgetown to Marion s swamp- 
 camp, to effect an exchange of prisoners. 
 He had never seen Marion, and was great 
 ly astonished at finding such a noted man 
 so diminutive in size, especially when com 
 pared with the British generals then in 
 the field, whose average weight, it is said, 
 exceeded two hundred pounds. Having 
 finished their business, the young officer 
 prepared to depart, but was invited by 
 Marion to stop and dine. The invitation 
 was accepted, and the entertainment was 
 served up on pieces of bark. It consisted 
 entirely of roasted potatoes, of which the 
 general ate heartily, and requested his 
 guest to do the same, adding, "Hunger is 
 the best sauce." "But surely, general," 
 said the astonished Briton, " this can not 
 
814 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 Dec, 13, 
 
 be your ordinary fare ?" "Indeed, sir, it 
 is," replied Marion," and we are fortunate 
 on this occasion, entertaining company, to 
 have more than our usual allowance." It 
 is said that the young officer, on returning 
 to his post, threw up his commission, de 
 claring that men who could contentedly 
 endure such privations were not to be 
 subdued.* 
 
 In accordance with the orders of Lord 
 Corn wallis, Major-General Leslie gave up 
 his expedition to Virginia, and 
 proceeded to Charleston, whence 
 he marched with fifteen hundred of his 
 three thousand troops to reinforce the 
 main army of the British at Winnsbor- 
 ou<: h. While waiting for this accession 
 
 o o 
 
 to his force, the earl determined to clear 
 the way for his intended invasion of North 
 Carolina. It would not do to leave Mor 
 gan in his rear, who was now only fifty 
 miles from him, and threatening the post 
 of Ninety-Six. He therefore ordered his 
 faithful Tarleton to proceed with eleven 
 hundred men five hundred of whom 
 were the formidable legion which 
 had been carrying terror and con 
 quest through every quarter of the state 
 for so long a time, and the remainder in 
 fantry, supported by some fieldpieces 
 and push the daring Morgan "to the ut 
 most." That there should be no chance 
 for the escape of his prey, who lay on the 
 west side of Broad river, it was concerted 
 that the earl himself, with his main body, 
 should move deliberately northward as 
 far as King s mountain, that Morgan s re 
 treat might be cut off, and he compelled 
 to fight. ThatMorgan himself should de- 
 
 c Life of General Marion, by W. Gilmore Simms. 
 
 1781, 
 
 sire to encounter either of them, the Brit 
 ish commanders do not for a moment ap 
 pear to have suspected. 
 
 Tarleton was not the man to linger, 
 and was at once in his saddle, in eager 
 
 pursuit of his foe. The brave 
 
 n Jan, 11. 
 
 old Morgan, "always accustomed 
 
 to fight and conquer," instead of wishing 
 to avoid, was no less desirous of a collis 
 ion than the redoubtable British dragoon. 
 He would have stood his ground arid of 
 fered him immediate battle ; but finding 
 that Cornwallis, simultaneously with the 
 advance of Tarleton, had moved forward, 
 ready to co-operate, and fearful lest he 
 might be surrounded by an overwhelm 
 ing: force, Morgan, though at first inclined 
 
 O D O 
 
 to dispute the passage of the Pacolet (a 
 small river, which is ford able in many 
 places), found it advisable to cross that 
 stream, and retire toward Broad river. 
 
 After a severe inarch of several days 
 through a wild and rugged country, the 
 British commander came upon the traces 
 of his enemy, and passed through the de 
 serted American camp, on the banks of 
 the Pacolet, which, with its fires 
 still burning, and the half-cooked 
 provisions scattered about, showed that 
 Morgan had but just left. Having cap 
 tured two of the videttes, Tarleton learn 
 ed that his antagonist had halted at a 
 place among the Thicketty mountains, 
 in Spartanburg district, called the Cow- 
 pens, not far in front of him, and about 
 six miles from Broad river; and in the 
 middle of the night, without taking a mo 
 ment s rest, and leaving his baggage be 
 hind, he hurried on to overtake him. The 
 zealous British dragoon hoped to catch 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF COWPENS. 
 
 815 
 
 his foe off his guard, and in the midst of 
 a con fuse; 1 flight. 
 
 Morgan, however, was determined to 
 stand his ground, and had no thoughts of 
 further retreat. His officers entreated 
 him to cross Broad river ; but he was not 
 to be moved from his position on the 
 heights of Cowpens, an eminence which 
 ascended gently for about three hundred 
 and fifty yards. It is true that the open 
 woods which covered this eminence af 
 forded a good field for the action of cav 
 alry, of which he knew his enemy had 
 much the greater strength. His flanks, 
 moreover, were unprotected ; and Broad 
 river, flowing parallel to his rear, cut off 
 all chances of retreat. He was, however, 
 resolved that his men should fight; and, 
 with the invincible Morgan, to fight was 
 to conquer. He characteristically justi 
 fied his position against all the arguments 
 of the tacticians, by declaring that, if he 
 crossed the river, one half of the militia 
 would abandon him. The old rifleman, 
 in his rough way, thus vindicated his judg 
 ment in after-years : " I would not have 
 had a swamp in view of my militia on any 
 consideration ; they would have made for 
 it, and nothing could have detained them 
 from it. As to covering my wings, I knew 
 my adversary, and was perfectly sure I 
 should have nothing but downright fight 
 ing. As to retreat, it was the very thing 
 I wished to cut off all hope of. I ivould 
 have ilianlicd Tarlcton had he surrounded me 
 ivith his cavalry. It would have been bet 
 ter than placing my own men in the rear 
 to shoot down those who broke from the 
 ranks. When men are forced to fight, 
 they will sell their lives dearly ; and I 
 
 knew that the dread of Tarleton s caval 
 ry would give due weight to the protec 
 tion of my bayonets, and keep my troops 
 from breaking, as Buford s regiment did." 
 Whatever may have been the different 
 opinions in regard to Morgan s choice of 
 ground, all agreed that the disposition of 
 his troops was masterly. At daybreak, 
 
 finding his enemy at hand, the 
 
 J *i n 1 7 
 
 American commander formed his 
 
 men in order of battle. He advanced two 
 parties of picked riflemen three hun 
 dred in all under Colonel Cunningham 
 of Georgia and Major M Dowell of South 
 Carolina, about a hundred and fifty yards 
 in front of the heights. Scattered loosely 
 along the whole line, they had orders 
 to feel the enemy as they approached, 
 and, while keeping up a desultory but 
 well-aimed fire, to retire to the front line, 
 composed of the main body of the militia, 
 led by the brave partisan, Colonel Pick- 
 ens, who, with his force of three hundred 
 practised riflemen, had joined Morgan 
 on his march. The continental infantry 
 and two companies of Virginia militia, 
 most of whom had already served as reg 
 ulars, under Captains Triplett and Tait, 
 were stationed on the slope of the ad 
 vanced height, at some distance in the 
 rear, and composed the second line, un 
 der the general command of Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Ho\vard, whose whole force num 
 bered four hundred men. Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Washington, with his dragoons, 
 reinforced by a company of mounted mi 
 litia, armed with sabres, and commanded 
 by Major M Call (one hundred and twen 
 ty-five in all), held the reserve, and took 
 post on the acclivity of the second of the 
 
816 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT n 
 
 two heights, which were about eighty 
 yards distant from each other, and formed 
 the main ground upon which the Ameri 
 can commander awaited battle. By this 
 disposition, the militia, in whom there was 
 less trust, but who were skilful marksmen, 
 were thrust forward in sight, to distract 
 the enemy, while the regular troops were 
 held back in concealment, ready to push 
 forward with their firm and well-ordered 
 ranks in the crisis of the engagement. 
 
 Morgan now rode along the lines, and 
 exhorted his men to duty. First addres 
 sing himself to the militia, " he extolled 
 the zeal and bravery so often displayed 
 by them, when unsupported with the bay 
 onet or sword ; and declared his confi 
 dence that they could not fail in main 
 taining their reputation, when supported 
 by chosen bodies of horse and foot, and 
 conducted by himself. Nor did he forget 
 to glance at his unvarying fortune, and 
 superior experience ; or to mention how 
 often, with his corps of riflemen, he had 
 brought British troops, equal to those be 
 fore him, to submission. He described 
 the deep regret he had already experi 
 enced in being obliged, from prudential 
 considerations, to retire before an enemy 
 always in his power; exhorted the line to 
 be firm and steady; to fire with good aim; 
 and if they would pour in but two volleys, 
 at killing distance, he would take upon 
 himself to secure victory. To the conti- 
 nentals he was very brief. He reminded 
 them of the confidence he had always re 
 posed in their skill and courage ; assured 
 them that victory was certain if they act 
 ed well their part ; and desired them not 
 to be discouraged by the sudden retreat 
 
 of the militia, that being part of his plan 
 and orders. Then, taking post with this 
 line, he waited in stern silence for the 
 enemy."* His troops, refreshed by the 
 night s repose and the morning breakfast, 
 were eager and in good condition for the 
 fight. 
 
 Tarleton, with his usual impetuosity, 
 finding that Morgan was prepared to give 
 him battle, hastened into action. His 
 troops, without being allowed a moment 
 for rest or refreshment, jaded as they 
 were by their long and rapid march, were 
 quickly formed. Hurrying his infantry 
 into line, with two fieldpieces in the cen 
 tre and a troop of dragoons on either 
 flank, and ordering the seventy-first regi 
 ment under M Arthur, and the rest of the 
 reserve cavalry, to hold themselves in re 
 serve, Tarleton in person recklessly led 
 on the advance column before his whole 
 force had completely formed. 
 
 The light parties of militia soon gave 
 way, and ranged themselves with the first 
 
 / / o 
 
 line, under Colonel Pickens. Tarleton 
 and his men pushed on with a shout, but 
 were met by a close and effective fire from 
 the militia marksmen. The British suf 
 fered severely, but continued to advance 
 with fixed bayonets, forcing the front line 
 back upon the second. Here the conti 
 nentals and the experienced Virginia mi 
 litia, under Colonel Howard, firmly stood 
 their ground, and gave the British ad 
 vance such a spirited reception, that their 
 commander was obliged to order up his 
 reserve. With this increase of force, the 
 enemy outstretched the American front, 
 and their cavalry threatened to turn its 
 
 * Lee. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] TARLETON AND COLONEL WASHINGTON. 
 
 817 
 
 right flank. Howard, seeing the danger, 
 immediately ordered his right company 
 to change its front. His men, however, 
 
 o / / 
 
 mistaking the order, fell back, and the 
 whole line followed, threatening total con 
 fusion. But at this moment Morgan rode 
 forward, and ordered them to retire to the 
 second height, where Colonel Washington 
 was ready to sustain them with the re 
 serve. The continentals, strengthened by 
 this support, and cheered by a rapid mes 
 sage from Washington," Give them a fire, 
 and I will charge them," fell back in ad 
 mirable order. 
 
 The British, in the meantime, seeing 
 this backward movement, and believing 
 that it was a flight, came on in a hurried 
 and confused pursuit. At this moment, 
 Colonel Howard ordered his continentals 
 to face about ; when they wheeled on the 
 instant, and poured upon the enemy a 
 close and murderous fire. The British 
 recoiled ; and Howard, seizing the favor 
 able opportunity, followed his advantage 
 with a charge of bayonets. In this crisis 
 of the battle, Colonel Washington encoun 
 tered the cavalry of Tarleton in a success- 
 fid charge. The militia recovered, and, 
 forming a new reserve, were ready to obey 
 the command of Morgan " to give them 
 but one more fire, and make the victory 
 secure !" The onset of Howard s conti 
 nentals, whose bayonets were interlocked 
 with those of the enemy, was irresistible. 
 They drove their antagonists before them, 
 and the day was won. 
 
 The concerted action of Morgan s whole 
 force at this most important moment was 
 the certain guaranty of victory. The en 
 emy were within thirty yards, tumultu- 
 
 103 
 
 ously shouting and advancing, when the 
 final fire of the Americans was given : the 
 survivors of the terrible discharge threw 
 down their weapons and fell upon their 
 faces.* 
 
 During the heat of the action, some of 
 Tarleton s cavalry gained the rear and fell 
 upon the militia, who, after retiring, had 
 sought their horses, which, as was custom- 
 ary with them on going into battle, had 
 been picketed near by. Colonel Wash 
 ington, however, coining to the rescue, 
 drove off the English troopers, and joined 
 in the general and vigorous pursuit of the 
 enemy, who fled in confusion. 
 
 Tarleton strove to bring up the cavalry 
 left in reserve, with the hope of rallying 
 his whole force ; but, struck with panic, 
 they refused to obey his call. He him 
 self, with a few officers and a handful OL 
 brave men, struggled on with resolute 
 courage to the last, and were left almost 
 alone on the field. 
 
 The fugitive British dragoons were pur 
 sued by Colonel Washington for several 
 miles, but most of them escaped. Excited 
 by the prospect of capturing the formi 
 dable cavalry-leader whose successes had 
 hitherto been so uniform and so produc 
 tive of disaster to the Carolinas, the stal 
 wart Washington, who was a bold rider 
 and reckless of danger, had in the ea<;er- 
 
 O O 
 
 ness of his pursuit advanced nearly thirty 
 yards in front of his regiment. Three 
 British dragoon-officers, observing him, 
 wheeled their horses about, and sprang 
 at him to cut him down. The officer on 
 the left had raised his sabre, and was 
 about striking a fatal blow, when Ser- 
 
 * Sinmis. 
 
818 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 geant-Major Perry, who had galloped for 
 ward to the rescue of his colonel, with a 
 rapid and timely movement smote the 
 Englishman s sword-arm, and it fell pow 
 erless to his side. But the officer on the 
 right supplied the place of his disabled 
 comrade, and crossed swords with Wash 
 ington. The blade of the latter, being of 
 inferior temper, broke in the encounter, 
 and left him at the mercy of the foe. At 
 this moment, when a second blow would 
 have brought him to the ground, a little 
 henchman, or page, not fourteen years 
 of age, who was devoted to his master, 
 and carried no other weapon than a pis 
 tol at his saddle-bow, seasonably rode up, 
 and by a fortunate aim discharged its con 
 tents into the shoulder of the assailant, 
 whose arm dropped nerveless at his side. 
 The colonel in the meantime was engaged 
 in front with the third officer, who was 
 no less a personage than the formidable 
 Tarleton himself. Washington was ready 
 for him, and with his broken weapon skil 
 fully parried every sword-thrust; but his 
 antagonist, backing his horse a few paces, 
 drew a pistol, and firing, wounded him in 
 the knee, and brought the noble steed 
 which bore him to the ground. 
 
 The fortunate approach of the Ameri 
 cans arrested the further attempts of the 
 Briton upon their leader. The moment 
 was lost, and his flight was resumed. "The 
 British dragoons of Tarleton," observes 
 Simms, "had really never fought well. 
 They had repeatedly hacked to pieces a 
 fugitive or supplicating militia; but nei 
 ther at Bluckstock s, where they encoun 
 tered Sumter,nor at Co wpens, where they 
 met with Washington, did they maintain 
 
 Jan. 17. 
 
 the high renown which they had hitherto 
 acquired rather from good fortune than 
 desert. The star of Tarleton waned from 
 this moment. His operations grew lim 
 ited in extent and small in importance. 
 His defeat on this occasion, with that of 
 Ferguson at King s mountain, were the 
 first links in a grand chain of causes which 
 drew down ruin on the British interest in 
 South Carolina." 
 
 The whole loss of the Americans at the 
 important engagement of Cowpens was 
 seventy men, of whom, strange 
 to say, only twelve were killed. 
 One hundred of the British, including ten 
 officers, were killed, and nearly two hun 
 dred wounded ; twenty-three officers and 
 five hundred privates were taken prison 
 ers. " Mark the epaulette men !" was the 
 significant whisper of Pickens s riflemen 
 to each other on the first advance of the 
 British column ; and the large number 
 killed or disabled in the action shows the 
 heed given to the suggestion by these 
 
 o Co / 
 
 sharpshooters, many of whom were burn 
 ing with a keen sense of personal injury. 
 Two fieldpieces, two standards, eight 
 hundred muskets, thirty-five baggage- 
 wagons., with a large amount of ammuni 
 tion, one hundred dragoon-horses, a trav 
 elling-forge, seventy negroes, and all the 
 music, were the spoils taken by the vic 
 torious Morgan, whose services on that 
 day were highly lauded throughout the 
 country. Congress presented him with 
 a gold medal, commemorative of his vic 
 tory ; to Colonel Pickens was given a 
 sword, to Lieutenant -Col on els Howard 
 and Washington each a silver medal, and 
 to Captain Triplett a sword. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] MORGAN S RETREAT. ARNOLD IN VIRGINIA. 
 
 819 
 
 Lord Corn wallis, in his camp on Turkey 
 creek, within twenty-five miles of Cow- 
 pens, and whither he had marched to fol 
 low up the presumed success of Tarleton, 
 now heard with dismay of the defeat of 
 his trusty dragoon. This failure, like that 
 of the capable Ferguson, seemed to be a 
 fatal omen to the proposed North-Caro 
 lina campaign. His lordship had been 
 sanguine of success now as then, and in 
 both instances the result had been equal 
 ly disastrous. The earl, however, spirit 
 edly strove to repair his past losses by 
 the most vigorous efforts to secure suc 
 cess for the future. 
 
 In order to quicken his movements 
 for he found that nothing could be done 
 in that rough country, and against his 
 
 alert enemy, without light troops his 
 lordship determined to sacrifice his bag 
 gage. Everything was destroyed except 
 a small supply of clothing, and a sufficient 
 number of wagons for the conveyance of 
 hospital-stores, of salt, of ammunition, and 
 for the accommodation of the sick and 
 wounded. The earl, showing the exam 
 ple, by first destroying his own baggage, 
 his officers and men cheerfully followed, 
 and every superfluity was given up. 
 
 Thus lightened, and being reinforced 
 by fifteen hundred troops from Charles 
 ton, under General Leslie, Cornwallis con 
 centrated his forces and hastened in pur 
 suit of the victorious Morgan, who, imme 
 diately after his triumph, crossed Broad 
 river, and pushed on to the Catawba. 
 
 CHAPTER XCV. 
 
 General Arnold bids for Traitors. Chafing for Action. Expedition to Virginia. Debarkation of Arnold. The Fight at 
 Richmond. Escape of Jefferson. Huthless Devastations. Richmond burnt. Jefferson to the Rescue. Retreat of 
 Arnold to Portsmouth. Discontent of the American Troops. Mutiny of the Pennsylvanians. General Wayne in 
 terposes. March of the Mutineers. Appeal from the Enemy. Mutiny not Treason. Agitation in Philadelphia. 
 Reed to the Rescue. Fate of the British Emissaries. Revolt of the New-Jersey Troops. Quelled by General Howe. 
 The Ringleaders shot. A Sad Execution. Desperate Tampering with Patriotism. Strength of the American 
 Cause. The Good Results following the Mutinies. 
 
 1780, 
 
 ARNOLD, now a brigadier-general 
 in the British army, finding his ef 
 forts to justify his crime in his "address 
 to the inhabitants of America" as futile 
 as was his "proclamation" to induce the 
 American officers and soldiers to follow 
 his example of treason, burned with ma 
 licious spite to revenge his disappoint 
 ment upon his country, which he had so 
 basely striven to ruin. Chafing, too, at 
 
 the undisguised contempt of those to 
 whose corrupt service he had sold his 
 honor, he sought relief from the scorn of 
 others, and perhaps from his own remorse, 
 in the excitement of action. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton soon gave Arnold 
 the opportunity he sought of staining his 
 sword with the blood of his countrymen. 
 The troops under General Leslie having 
 been diverted to South Carolina, it was 
 
820 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [TAUT n. 
 
 determined to send another expedition to 
 Virginia. A miscellaneous detachment 
 
 D 
 
 of seventeen hundred men, consisting of 
 British regulars, refugees, and German 
 mercenaries, was accordingly despatched 
 on this service. The renegade Arnold 
 was given the chief command, although 
 Sir Henry Clinton, naturally distrustful 
 of his new ally, took care to associate with 
 him Colonels Dundas and Simcoe, men of 
 well-tried fidelity, whom Arnold was strict 
 ly ordered to consult, and without whose 
 concurrence he was forbidden to take a 
 single step of importance. 
 
 The object of the expedition, 
 which was one of plunder and 
 devastation, suited well the present tem 
 per of the arch-traitor ; and, as he sailed 
 away from the harbor of New York, with 
 his troops on board some fifty small ves 
 sels, he uttered the malignant boast that 
 he would give the Americans a blow that 
 would "make the whole continent shake." 
 The fleet had hardly sailed, when a severe 
 storm arose, which scattered the ships; 
 and, to keep them from foundering, one 
 half of the cavalry-horses and several of 
 the large guns had to be thrown over 
 board. The half-wrecked vessels, with the 
 exception of three transports and a man- 
 of-war, at last gathered together off the 
 
 Dec, 30, Cape>S f tllt3 Chesapeake, and en 
 tered Hampton roads. The mis 
 sing ships did not arrive until four days 
 afterward. 
 
 1 78 1, Wifa his usual promptitude of 
 action, Arnold immediately seized 
 upon some small boats, put nine hundred 
 men on board, and, like a pirate, sailed up 
 James river, plundering and rava^in"- as 
 
 Jan, 
 
 he went, and finally landed at 
 Westover, the ancient seat of the 
 Byrd family, only twenty-five miles below 
 Richmond, the capital of Virginia. 
 
 Thomas Jefferson, then governor of the 
 state, immediately called out the militia ; 
 but so few obeyed the summons, that Jef 
 ferson was forced to give up all hope of 
 defending Richmond. Some of the pub 
 lic property was hastily removed to the 
 country ; and the governor and the state 
 officers, finding that the rapid Arnold had 
 already reached Four-mile creek, only 
 twelve miles below Richmond, speedily 
 followed. Jefferson fled during the nio-ht. 
 
 O O 
 
 Early next morning, Arnold was in pos 
 session of the capital, where he had hoped 
 to catch the governor ; but he had made 
 his escape just in time. Thus foiled in 
 his effort to capture the illustrious author 
 of the Declaration of Independence, the 
 traitor sent a deputation of the citizens 
 of Richmond to him, with the declaration 
 that he would not destroy the city if the 
 British vessels were allowed to come up 
 without interruption to the docks, and 
 load with the tobacco. This proposition 
 was, however, scornfully rejected by Jef 
 ferson. 
 
 Arnold now no longer withheld his de 
 vastating hand. He despatched Colonel 
 Simcoe, with four hundred men, 
 to destroy the storehouses ani 
 foundries at Wrotham. Arnold s coadju 
 tor faithfully did his bidding, and not only 
 destroyed the property of the state, but 
 also some of the public documents and 
 archives which had been conveyed there 
 for security. Simcoe returned to Rich 
 mond without having received the least 
 
 Jan, 6, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 SUFFERING IN THE AMERICAN ARMY. 
 
 821 
 
 hinderance in his ruthless expedition, and 
 joined Arnold in his destruction of that 
 city. All the public buildings were set 
 on fire, as well as the tobacco-warehouses ; 
 and, leaving "an atmosphere that smelt 
 as if a million of pipes and a million of 
 cigars were smoking together," the rene 
 gade quitted the capital and encamped 
 at Four-mile creek. 
 
 On the following day, Arnold 
 descended James river to West- 
 over, where he had first landed. In the 
 meantime, Governor Jefferson returned to 
 the ruins of Richmond, and, by another 
 effort succeeded in bringing a small mili 
 tia-force into the field, which made an oc 
 casional resistance to the marauders, but 
 without much effect. Arnold, finding that 
 Baron Steuben, who was in command in 
 Virginia, was preparing to cut him off, 
 and Jefferson having offered a reward of 
 five thousand guineas for his capture, now 
 hastened to his boats and proceeded down 
 the stream to Portsmouth, oppo 
 site Norfolk, on Elizabeth river, 
 where, being reinforced by the arrival of 
 more troops from New York, he fortified 
 and prepared to hold the town. 
 
 Arnold s " proclamation" to the officers 
 and soldiers of the American army, which 
 he had issued at New York immediately 
 after the detection of his treason, and two 
 months before his marauding expedition 
 to Virginia, was artfully addressed at the 
 most opportune period for his malignant 
 purpose. The American soldiers were 
 discontented. " Poorly clothed, badly fed, 
 and worse paid, some of them not having 
 received a paper dollar for nearly twelve 
 months; exposed to winter s piercing cold, 
 
 Jan, 20, 
 
 to drifting snow, and chilling blasts, with 
 no protection but old worn-out coats, tat 
 tered linen overalls, and but one blanket 
 between three men. The officers in gen 
 eral, as well as myself, find it necessary 
 to stand for hours every day, exposed to 
 wind and weather, among these poor na 
 ked fellows, while they are working at 
 their huts and redoubts, often assisting 
 with our own hands, in order to procure 
 a conviction to their minds that we share, 
 and more than share, every vicissitude in 
 common with them sometimes asking 
 
 c 
 
 to participate in their bread and water." 
 Such is the relation, by their commander, 
 Wayne, of the sufferings of the Pennsyl 
 vania troops of the line, while in their 
 winter -quarters at Morristown. These 
 consisted of six regiments (about two 
 thousand men), who were exposed to ev 
 ery privation and hardship. Their mis 
 ery was the misery of all the troops com 
 posing the northern army at the close of 
 the year 1780 ; and such was the general 
 discontent, that universal mutiny seemed 
 not improbable. The Pennsylvania regi 
 ments, however, were those to show the 
 example. They were excellent soldiers, 
 and, although mostly natives of Ireland, 
 of undoubted fidelity to the cause of their 
 adopted country. But they were char 
 acteristically excitable, and more readily 
 led into sudden bursts of passionate ex 
 cess ; while apart from the common in 
 citement to re volt, there was an additional 
 grievance to stir their indignation. The 
 promises which had been often made by 
 Congress had been as often unfulfilled ; 
 and now the expression in their enlist 
 ment agreement, to " serve for three years, 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT 
 
 or during the war," which was intended 
 for less than three years if the tuar should 
 sooner end, was ungenerously interpreted 
 to mean until the end of the tear, if it should 
 last longer. This interpretation was nat 
 urally regarded by them as chicanery, at 
 which they felt greatly exasperated. In 
 common with others, they had suffered 
 year after year from lack of money, cloth 
 ing, and sometimes food. The little conti 
 nental money which they had been receiv 
 ing was now worthless, and hitherto there 
 had been a continued loss upon it by de 
 preciation ; and the pay of both officers 
 and men was greatly in arrears. Still, up 
 to the close of 1780, these troops had ex 
 hibited nothing beyond the usual signs 
 of discontent. 
 
 The three years enlistment of most of 
 the Pennsylvanians expired at the begin 
 ning of the new year; and they 
 had the mortification of seeing 
 a bounty of about twenty-five dollars of 
 fered to raw recruits, while they, the vet 
 erans of three years, whose wages yet re 
 mained unsettled, were offered no more. 
 All these grievances combined formed a 
 serious cause for complaint. The officers 
 had already murmured some; and the 
 common soldiers, encouraged by their ex 
 ample, acted with boldness.. According 
 ly, on the night of the first of January, 
 when inflamed with the drink and excite 
 ment of the new-year holyday, they sud 
 denly broke out into open revolt. 
 
 On a signal being given, the non-com 
 missioned officers as well as the privates 
 of three regiments of the Pennsylvania 
 line, who considered their terms of en 
 listment as expired, and mmiberincr in all 
 
 thirteen hundred men, turned out under 
 arms, and declared that they would march 
 to Philadelphia, and either obtain a re 
 dress of their grievances from Congress 
 or serve no longer. The officers of the 
 line collected those who remained, and 
 with these strove to quell the mutiny, and 
 arrest the march of the insurgents, but a 
 captain was killed and three other officers 
 wounded in the vain attempt. The mu 
 tineers then forced the minority to join 
 them, under a threat of instant death if 
 they should refuse. 
 
 Their commander, General Wayne, in 
 terposed, and strove to appease them with 
 words, but the excited soldiery would not 
 listen to what he had to say. He then 
 drew his pistols, and advanced upon them 
 as if to fire. Presenting their bayonets 
 to his breast, they exclaimed : " We love 
 and respect you ; but, if you fire, you are 
 a dead man ! We are not going to the 
 enemy. On the contrary, if they were 
 now to come out, you should see us fight 
 under your orders with as much alacrity 
 as ever ; but we will no longer be amused. 
 We are determined on obtaining what is 
 our just due." 
 
 Electing temporary officers from their 
 own body, and giving a sergeant-major 
 (who was a former deserter from the Brit 
 ish army) the chief command, with the 
 title of major-general, the mutineers pro 
 ceeded to the magazines, and supplied 
 themselves with ammunition, and provis 
 ions for immediate use ; seized six field- 
 pieces, and horses from Wayne s stables 
 to drag them; and then set out on their 
 march to Princeton. General Wayne, in 
 order that theirnecessitiesmight notforce 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 REVOLT OF THE PENNSYLVANIA LINE. 
 
 823 
 
 them to make depreciations on private 
 property, sent them supplies of provis 
 ions, and soon after followed in company 
 with Colonels Butler and Stewart, whom 
 they highly esteemed, that he might ex 
 ercise the moral influence which he still 
 possessed in guiding their movements and 
 checking their excesses. He at the same 
 time despatched two officers to Philadel 
 phia, to warn Congress of their approach. 
 The mutineers received their commander 
 with respect, but still insisted upon the 
 redress of their grievances as the condi 
 tion of a return to duty. 
 
 When Washington, who was then at 
 New Windsor, on the Hudson, heard of 
 the revolt, he advised General Wayne not 
 to employ force, for the number of the 
 insurgents was too great and their com 
 plaints too just to risk the hazard of such 
 a step. Besides, he was not sorry to see 
 the derelict Congress aroused by bayonets 
 to a proper sense of its duty toward the 
 suffering army. The commander-in-chief 
 had great confidence in Wayne, and rec 
 ommended him to get from the revolters 
 a statement of their grievances, which he 
 promised in a candid spirit to lay before 
 Congress and the general assembly of 
 Pennsylvania. Accordingly, on halting 
 at Princeton, the mutineers presented a 
 written programme of their demands to 
 Wayne, who immediately forwarded it to 
 Congress. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton received news of the 
 revolt of the American troops simultane 
 ously with Washington, and, thinking the 
 opportunity favorable for gaining over 
 the mutineers to the British cause, sent 
 two emissaries to Princeton to treat with 
 
 them. At the same time, mustering his 
 troops and ships at New York, he pre 
 pared to take advantage of the auspicious 
 result which he anticipated. The emis 
 saries (a British sergeant and one Ogden, 
 a tory of New Jersey) presented them 
 selves with a document, in which Sir Hen 
 ry promised the insurgents their arrears 
 of pay, including the amount of the de 
 
 J. */ O 
 
 preciation of the continental currency in 
 their possession, in gold, good clothing, a 
 free pardon for all past offences, and the 
 protection of the British government, if 
 they would lay down their arms and 
 march to New York, where no military 
 service, unless voluntary, would be re 
 quired of them. This proposition was re 
 jected by the Pennsylvania line to a man, 
 with scorn, and the document delivered 
 up to Wayne. The British emissaries, 
 however, were retained by the revolters 
 until their demands should have a hear 
 ing from the state. 
 
 Philadelphia was in a state of great agi 
 tation when the two officers despatched 
 by General Wayne galloped into the city 
 with news of the revolt. Joseph Reed, 
 the president of Pennsylvania, accompa 
 nied by some of the civil officers and a 
 committee of Congress, and escorted by 
 a mounted guard, hastened forward to 
 meet the disalfected troops. It was, how 
 ever, thought inexpedient to trust them 
 selves among them ; and Reed halted at 
 Trenton, whence he wrote to Wayne, 
 that, after the treatment of the marquis 
 Lafayette and General St. Clair, who had 
 been peremptorily ordered away from the 
 rebellious camp, whither they had gone 
 to interpose their good offices, he could 
 
824 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 not venture to put himself in the power 
 of the excited soldiery. 
 
 This letter was read aloud by "Wayne 
 to the troops, and evidently with a favor 
 able effect. Thronging about the mes 
 senger who had brought it, the men anx 
 iously inquired if the president was un 
 friendly to them ; while some did not hesi 
 tate to express their aversion to the affair 
 in which they were engaged. 
 
 Finding, however, that the mutineers 
 had rejected the wily proffers of Sir Hen 
 ry Clinton, and trusting to their patriot 
 ism, Reed no longer hesitated to meet 
 them. " I have but one life to lose," he 
 wrote to the executive council of Penn 
 sylvania, " and my country has the first 
 claim to it." But no such sacrifice was 
 exacted from the patriotic president. 
 
 On approaching Princeton, Reed was 
 received with all the military honors : the 
 mutineers were drawn up in full array, 
 with arms presented ; and the artillery 
 would have fired a jubilant salute, had it 
 not been prevented, lest it might alarm 
 the country. A conference ensued, when 
 terms were agreed upon, by which the 
 revolters, having been guarantied a re 
 dress of their grievances, returned to duty. 
 
 The emissaries of the British command 
 er were now brought forward and deliv 
 ered up to General Wayne. "See, com 
 rades," exclaimed one of the leaders in the 
 mutiny, " Clinton takes us for traitors ! 
 Let us show him that the American army 
 can furnish but Q^Q Arnold, and that Amer 
 ica has no truer friends than we." The 
 emissaries were subsequently tried, con 
 demned as spies, and hung. Sir Henry 
 thus found that the American soldiers. 
 
 however loose in discipline, were firm in 
 patriotism. He might have spared his 
 attempts at corruption, had he called to 
 mind the total failure of the proclamation 
 of Arnold, who was in every respect his 
 master in the art. 
 
 But the fidelity of these soldiers did 
 not stop with the seizure of the emissa 
 ries. When the reward of fifty guineas 
 each, which had been offered by General 
 Wayne for the apprehension of the British 
 agents, was proffered to the two sergeants 
 who brought them to the commander, 
 they refused it, saying, " Necessity wrung 
 from us the act of demanding justice from 
 Congress, but we desire no reward for do 
 ing our duty to our adopted country !" 
 
 The ill example of the Pennsylvanians 
 was soon followed by some of the New- 
 Jersey troops. In the middle of 
 
 Inn OQ 
 
 the night, a portion of the line, 
 nearly three hundred in number, then sta 
 tioned at Pornpton, revolted, claiming the 
 same privileges which had been conceded 
 to the Pennsylvanians, whose success was 
 well calculated to encourage the same 
 conduct in others. Washington, howev 
 er, who justly feared the effect of the in 
 dulgent treatment of the first mutineers, 
 was resolved to act more summarily with 
 the New-Jersey troops. He accordingly 
 despatched General Robert Howe, at the 
 head of five hundred men of the Massa 
 chusetts line, to force the malcontents to 
 unconditional submission. 
 
 At dawn of day, General Howe halted 
 within sight of the mutinous camp at 
 Pompton. Here, with some anx 
 iety lest his men, fraternizing 
 with their rebellious comrades, should re- 
 
 Jau. 27. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] EXECUTION OF MUTINEERS AT POMFPOX. 
 
 825 
 
 fuse to comply, he ordered his troops to 
 load. Each soldier obeyed with alacrity, 
 when Howe harangued his troops, and de 
 clared to them that the mutineers were 
 to be brought to unconditional submis 
 sion. Two fieldpieces were then drawn 
 forward, and the men ordered to surround 
 the huts in which the revolters had their 
 winter encampment, and where they were 
 mostly asleep at that early hour. 
 
 The general now sent his aid-de-camp 
 to summon the mutineers to appear on 
 parade unarmed, in front of their huts, 
 within five minutes. The time passed, 
 and none showed themselves. Another 
 messenger was sent to repeat the order. 
 It was instantaneously obeyed. Every 
 man presented himself as he had been 
 ordered, unarmed and without the least 
 show of resistance. Three of the ring 
 leaders were at once singled out, and, be 
 ing tried by the court-martial, standing 
 grim and cold on the spot, covered deep 
 with snow, were condemned to be imme 
 diately shot. Twelve of the most guilty 
 of their comrades were selected to be the 
 executioners ; and, when ordered to load 
 their muskets, they burst into an agony 
 of tears, at the dreadful office to which 
 they had been condemned. 
 
 The first criminal was a sergeant, and 
 an old offender. He was led a few yards 
 distant, and placed on his knees. Six of 
 the twelve executioners fired at the first 
 signal, three aiming at the head and three 
 at the breast. Their shots were ineffect 
 ual ; when the other six, who had been 
 reserved for such an emergency, fired and 
 put an end to the sufferings of the vic 
 tim. The second culprit was killed in- 
 
 104 
 
 stantaneously by the first fire ; and the 
 third, in the moment of expected death, 
 was pardoned by the intercession of his 
 officers. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton had, in this instance, 
 made another desperate effort to tamper 
 with the patriotism of the mutineers, but 
 found his last attempt no less futile than 
 his previous ones. Thus ended the mem 
 orable mutiny of 1781 in the American 
 army, which so greatly alarmed the fears 
 of the patriots and so greatly encouraged 
 the hopes of their enemies. The result, 
 however, served to prove more than ever 
 the strength of the cause of America, for 
 it exhibited the most unruly and discon 
 tented of her people firm and constant 
 in loyalty to their country 
 
 These events, moreover, aroused the 
 people and Congress to more vigorous 
 action ; and efforts hitherto unprecedent 
 ed were made to raise money and supply 
 the wants of the army. Taxes were im 
 posed, and cheerfully acquiesced in ; and 
 during the year(1781) the "Bank of North 
 America" was established at Philadelphia, 
 under the supervision of Robert Morris, 
 a wealthy merchant of that city, to whose 
 superintendence Congress had recently 
 intrusted the national treasury. There 
 can be little doubt that it was principally 
 owing to the financial operations of this 
 distinguished patriot that the American 
 army was not disbanded by its own act, 
 and that Congress was enabled to com 
 mence offensive operations on the open 
 ing of the spring campaign for this year. 
 He assumed the collection of taxes, and 
 the supply of the army with flour ; and 
 he likewise used his private fortune and 
 
826 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 his personal credit, without stint, to sus 
 tain the government* 
 
 Efforts had previously been made to 
 negotiate loans of money and obtain mili 
 tary supplies in different parts of Europe. 
 Spain had loaned only fourteen thousand 
 dollars, when nearly half a million was 
 the amount asked ; and France seemed 
 to feel that she had done quite enough 
 in sending her fleets and armies to Amer 
 ica. Colonel John Laurens, son of the 
 ex-president of Congress, was, in this ex 
 
 tremity, sent, on a special commission to 
 France ; and, contrary to usual etiquette, 
 he presented his memorial in person to 
 the king. He succeeded in obtaining a 
 subsidy of six millions of livres (one mil 
 lion two hundred thousand dollars), with 
 a further sum by way of loan, and guar 
 anty for a Dutch loan of five millions of 
 guilders (two millions of dollars). This 
 was intimated as being the very last pe 
 cuniary aid that could be granted to the 
 United States.* 
 
 CHAPTER XCVI. 
 
 Lord Cornwallis on the Heels of Morgan. His Escape. Interposition of Providence. General Greene to the Relict. 
 Promptitude in Business. A Hard Gallop. Greene on the Catawba. Hope in Misery. Cornwallis crosses the River. 
 
 A Dangerous Ford. The British in the Dark. The American Riflemen. A Bare Escape. A Noble Charger. 
 
 Tarleton in Pursuit. A Parthian Shot. Greene in Danger. At Stcele s Tavern. Penniless and hungry. Generos 
 ity of a Female Patriot. Flight and Pursuit. The British brought to a Halt. The Yadkin. Greene at Guilford 
 Courthouse. His Tactics. 
 
 1781. 
 
 LORD CORNWALLIS, having disen 
 cumbered himself of his baggage, 
 as already related, was able to push for 
 ward in pursuit of General Morgan with 
 great rapidity. He was, however, so bent 
 upon coming up with his energetic ene 
 my, that, quickly as his whole army was 
 moving, he yet detached a body of light- 
 troops to hasten on in advance. Not a 
 moment was lost; and, by forced marches 
 night and day, the detachment succeeded 
 in making such rapid progress, that it was 
 Boon at the heels, with every prospect of 
 immediately overtaking, Morgan and his 
 men. 
 
 The American general, too, was spar- 
 
 * Losbing. 
 
 ing no effort to escape from his formida 
 ble pursuers ; but, encumbered as he was 
 with the wounded, the prisoners, and the 
 captured baggage, his progress was neces 
 sarily slower than that of his adversary. 
 Nevertheless, rapid as had been the move 
 ments of Cornwallis, his lordship, in de 
 stroying his heavy baggage and making 
 other preparations for the pursuit, had 
 consumed two days, which excited the 
 censure of the more active Tarleton, and 
 gave Morgan so much the start. The lat 
 ter finally reached and crossed the great 
 Catawba river, at Gowan s ford, thirty 
 miles north from the boundary of South 
 Carolina. The British came up in hot pur- 
 
 * Sparks. 
 
REVOLUTION A UY.] 
 
 CROSSING THE CATAWBA. 
 
 827 
 
 Jan. 23, 
 
 suit just two hours after he had touched 
 the opposite bank of the stream. It be 
 ing late at night, and feeling con 
 fident of his prey, as he had been 
 at Trenton more than four years before, 
 the earl deferred his passage until morn 
 ing. But during the night the river had 
 so swollen by a sudden and heavy rain, 
 that it was impassable. Morgan was safe, 
 and with pious enthusiasm gratefully ac 
 knowledged that his escape was due to a 
 specinl interposition of Providence. 
 
 The waters of the rivers continuing to 
 overflow for two days, gave Morgan an 
 opportunity of sending off the prisoners 
 toward Virginia which he had taken at 
 Cowpens, and mustering the North-Caro 
 lina militia of the neighborhood to defend 
 the fords of the Catawba. 
 
 General Greene, at his camp on the 
 Great Pedee, heard of the " glorious ac 
 tion" at Cowpens, and soon afterward of 
 the rapid movements of Lord Cornwallis. 
 Finding Morgan hard pushed, he deter 
 mined to hasten to his relief. Business 
 pressed in upon him at the moment of 
 departure, but the prompt and energetic 
 Greene was equal to every emergency. 
 Word came that a British squadron had 
 entered the Cape-Fear river, and landed 
 troops at Wilmington, in North Carolina. 
 Their object was doubtless to co-operate 
 with Earl Cornwallis, and measures were 
 taken to prevent it. The southern states 
 were to be called to duty in the crisis; 
 and accordingly despatches were written 
 and sent forward to the governors of Vir 
 ginia and the Carolinas, urgently entreat 
 ing them to furnish aid in men, money, 
 and provisions. Baron Steuben, who was 
 
 in Virginia, pursuing Arnold toward the 
 seaboard, was urged by letter to hasten 
 forward his recruits for the southern army. 
 The mountaineers, who had been led to 
 victory by Campbell at King s mountain, 
 were besought to rally again from their 
 homes beyond the Alleghanies to the res 
 cue of their country. The Virginia mili 
 tia were quickly put in marching trim, 
 and sent forward to take charge of Mor 
 gan s prisoners and conduct them to their 
 own state, whither they themselves were 
 about to return, as their term of service 
 would soon expire. Provisions were col 
 lected, magazines established, stores re 
 moved to places of safe deposite, detach 
 ments called in, and all the complicated 
 details of preparation for a campaign, 
 promptly but efficiently accomplished by 
 the resolute Greene. 
 
 In his impatience to be with Morgan, 
 Greene did not await the marching of his 
 troops, but hurried on in advance, leaving 
 General Huger, of South Carolina, in com 
 mand, with orders to proceed by forced 
 marches to Salisbury, which was agreed 
 upon as the rendezvous for the whole ar 
 my. The general-in-chief, accompanied 
 only by an aid-de-camp, a guide, and a ser 
 geant s guard of dragoons, rode on in all 
 haste to join Morgan, whom he 
 reached at Sherrard s ford, after 
 a hard gallop of a hundred miles through 
 a rough country from his encampment op 
 posite Cheraw, a little below the bound 
 ary-line between the Carolinas. 
 
 General Greene found but seventeen 
 hundred men, including the militia, mus 
 tered under Morgan ; while Cornwallis, 
 now come up with his main body, was only 
 
828 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 hindered by the still swollen waters from 
 crossing the Catawba, and bringing into 
 action his much more formidable force of 
 twenty-five hundred. The condition of 
 the American troops was not encoura- 
 o-iri"- "More than half our numbers," 
 
 o O 
 
 wrote Greene, " are in a manner naked ; 
 so much so, that we can not put them on 
 the least kind of duty. Indeed, there is a 
 great number that have not a rag of clothes on 
 them, except a little piece of blanket, in the In 
 dian form, around their u aists" Yet such 
 was the undaunted spirit of their com 
 mander, that almost at the same moment 
 he could thus cheerfully express himself 
 in regard to the future : " I am not with 
 out hopes of ruining Lord Cornwallis, if 
 he persists in his mad scheme of pushing 
 through the country." His lordship was 
 pursuing a course similar to that of Bur- 
 goyne, in 1777; and what the action at 
 Bennington had been to the latter, the 
 battle of Cowpens was likely to prove to 
 the former. 
 
 The Catawba was falling fast, and the 
 enemy were eagerly watching for an op 
 portunity to cross. Greene did not pro 
 pose to dispute the passage, but deter 
 mined to retard it with a few militia, in 
 order to give his main body an opportu 
 nity of securing a safe retreat. His only 
 policy, with his meager and ill-conditioned 
 force, was to retire before his formidable 
 antagonist until he could form a junction 
 with the rest of his troops on their march 
 to Salisbury. 
 
 The river having now become 
 fordable, both armies made ar 
 rangements to move accordingly. The 
 general-in-chief ordered Morgan to march 
 
 Jan, 31, 
 
 in the evening with the main body, and 
 make all speed away, while he himself 
 remained behind to superintend the op 
 erations at the river. Two hundred of 
 the militia were distributed at the vari 
 ous fords ; while the rest, some three hun 
 dred in number, skilful riflemen, under 
 General Davidson, were stationed along 
 the banks of the stream, in order to watch 
 the movement of the enemy, and harass 
 them whenever and wherever they should 
 cross. 
 
 Cornwallis wisely chose the night for 
 making the passage ; and, in order to de 
 ceive the Americans, he sent a detach 
 ment, under Colonels Webster and Tarle- 
 ton, to cross without concealment at Beat- 
 tie s ford, as if this were the chosen route, 
 while he should throw his main body si 
 lently over at Gowan s. Hoping to find 
 this unfrequented ford without guard, his 
 van bewail to cross at one o clock in the 
 
 o 
 
 morning. The night was exces- 
 
 . 1 el), I, 
 
 sively (Lark and rainy. General 
 
 Davidson, however, not deceived by the 
 earl s manoeuvre, was on the alert, on the 
 opposite bank of the river, with his rifle 
 men hid under the cover of the woods, 
 ready to meet the enemy with their fatal 
 and unexpected fire. 
 
 The British troops found they could 
 not move with the ease and rapidity that 
 they expected. The approach to the ford 
 was through a woody swamp ; and the 
 wheels sank so deeply into the marsh, 
 that great delay w r as occasioned in get 
 ting the artillery-carriages forward. The 
 van of the troops, however, passed on into 
 the river, followed immediately by Corn 
 wallis in person, as it was feared that the 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 TARLETON AFTER THE FUGITIVES. 
 
 829 
 
 Btrearn might again become so swollen by 
 the rain which was falling as to render it 
 un ford able. 
 
 The Catawba at this point was about 
 five hundred yards in width; and the cur 
 rent was so rapid, and the bed of the river 
 so rough with loose stones, that the men 
 were obliged to support each other by 
 keeping in close ranks, lest they should 
 be thrown down and swept away by the 
 stream. The noisy turbulence of the wa 
 ters, and the exceeding darkness of the 
 night, prevented their approach from be 
 ing discovered until they had proceeded 
 nearly halfway across, when an American 
 sentry, having first challenged them three 
 times, fired. 
 
 The guide, hearing the whistling of the 
 balls, and finding that the ford was guard 
 ed, suddenly became alarmed and fled, 
 leaving the troops to find their way over 
 by themselves. Colonel Hale, who led 
 the van at the head of the grenadiers, 
 forbidding his men to fire till they should 
 land, immediately pushed on ; and, not 
 knowing the direction of the ford, which 
 crossed diagonally, he followed a straight 
 course, by which his men, though obliged 
 to flounder through much deeper water, 
 succeeded in crossing in safety, and land 
 ing at a point where they were unexpect 
 ed by Davidson and his militia. The Brit 
 ish were thus saved from meeting the fire 
 of the American riflemen, and its effect 
 was accordingly much less disastrous, al 
 though three of the enemy were killed 
 and thirty-six wounded by the first vol 
 ley. Colonel Hale was shot down as his 
 horse was springing to the bank. Lord 
 Cornwallis himself had a narrow escape, 
 
 for a rifle-ball wounded his horse in the 
 midst of the stream, although the spirited 
 animal bore his rider safely to the shore, 
 and then fell dead. 
 
 General Davidson now shifted his po 
 sition, in order to give his men a more 
 direct aim; but, in making the movement, 
 he was brought between the light of his 
 own fires and the advancing columns of 
 the British, who had landed in numbers. 
 Before he could form, the enemy pressed 
 forward, and, having killed or wounded 
 about forty of the Americans, put the re 
 mainder to flight. Davidson himself was 
 shot dead while mounting his horse to 
 follow his little band of riflemen. 
 
 No sooner had Cornwallis crossed the 
 Catawba, than he ordered Tarleton in pur 
 suit of the fugitives. This bold colonel of 
 dragoons was immediately in his saddle, 
 and, pushing on with full speed at the 
 head of his troopers, soon came upon the 
 traces of those whom he sought. About 
 a hundred of the militia, having reached 
 a tavern some ten miles from the river, in 
 cautiously tarried there to refresh them 
 selves. Suddenly the videttes came gal 
 loping in, with the cry, "Tarleton is upon 
 us !" The militia hurried to their horses, 
 and had scarcely mounted, when, surely 
 enough, the British dragoons were seen 
 hastening down the road. The American 
 riflemen, checking their steeds a moment, 
 rose in their stirrups, and, turning upon 
 their enemy, fired one volley from their 
 never-missing rifles, and then galloped ofi 
 at full speed. Tarleton, angered by this 
 Parthian shot, by which seven of his dra 
 goons and twenty horses had fallen, now 
 quickened his pace, and succeeded in com 
 
830 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART u. 
 
 ing up with some of the laggards in the 
 rear, who were badly mounted, and cut- 
 tin" 1 down about a score of them. 
 
 O 
 
 General Greene himself, accompanied 
 only by his suite of officers, was but seven 
 miles farther on the road, where Tarleton 
 could have readily captured him had he 
 known of his whereabouts. The Ameri- < 
 can commander awaited the arrival of Da 
 vidson and his men, but waited in vain, 
 until midnight, when finally, with a heavy 
 heart, he rode on to Salisbury. 
 
 "As Greene made his appearance at 
 Steele s tavern," says his biographer, who 
 describes the incident, " the disordered 
 state of his garments, the stiffness of his 
 limbs, the languor of His movements, the 
 dejection of his mood and manner, became 
 painfully apparent to every eye. Ap 
 proaching him, as he alighted from his 
 horse, his friend Doctor Read addressed 
 him with inquiries of most anxious solici 
 tude; to which he replied, not able to re 
 press his anguish, that he came alone, ex 
 hausted, penniless, and hungry. The re 
 ply did not escape the ears of the excel 
 lent landlady. His breakfast was soon 
 prepared and smoking; and he had scarce 
 ly finished it, when she presented herself; 
 closed the door of the apartment, and, 
 producing a small bag of specie in each 
 hand, she forced them upon him. 
 
 " Take them, said the noble woman; 
 you will need, and I can do without the 
 money. 
 
 " Never did help come at a better sea 
 son. An acquisition so important to the 
 public service was not to be rejected 
 through scruples of mere delicacy ; and 
 Greene rose from the breakfast-table, no 
 
 Feb. 2. 
 
 longer penniless no longer succumbing 
 to the condition which had made him feel 
 himself so utterly alone."* 
 
 From Salisbury, Greene (having first 
 sent word to General Huger to hasten on 
 with his division of the army to Guilford 
 courthouse) rode forward to join Morgan, 
 whom he overtook in the even 
 ing, just as he was about crossing 
 the Yadkin. Lord Cornwallis was push 
 ing on close after him ; and an advance 
 detachment, under General O Hara, came 
 up so rapidly, that it overtook the rear of 
 the Americans, with whom it had a brisk 
 skirmish as they were crossing the river. 
 Greene having, by a happy foresight, se 
 cured all the boats and "flats," and the 
 rains in the meanwhile having flooded the 
 stream so as to render it unfordable, the 
 British had the provocation, as previously 
 at the Catawba, of beholding their enemy 
 passing over during the night and early 
 the next morning, without being able to 
 follow or harass them. General O Hara, 
 however, succeeded in capturing a few 
 baggage-wagons, which the Americans 
 were unable to take across before he ar 
 rived. 
 
 Earl Cornwallis, on coming up to the 
 western bank of the Yadkin, and finding 
 it impracticable to cross at that 
 point, inarched along the shore 
 for a distance of twenty-five miles, until 
 he reached the upper fords, which still 
 remained passable. He now crossed the 
 river, and commenced a rapid pursuit o* 
 the Americans, determined to force them 
 to fight before they could get reinforce 
 ments from Virginia. His lordship s de- 
 
 * Simms. 
 
 Feb. 3, 
 
R EVOLUTION ART.] 
 
 THE FLIGHT ACROSS THE DAN. 
 
 831 
 
 Fcl), 7, 
 
 lay enabled Greene and Morgan to reach 
 Guilford courthouse and refresh 
 their troops, where two days af 
 terward they were joined by General lin 
 ger with his division, whose march from 
 the Pedee had been one of great trial and 
 suffering. 
 
 General Greene s object was not mere 
 ly to escape from Cornwallis, but also to 
 entice him forward in pursuit, with the 
 hope of getting him into the interior of 
 the country, where his resources would 
 
 be exhausted, and the inhabitants would 
 rise in resistance. Thus, the American 
 commander halted at the Catawba until 
 the British were able to march; and then, 
 again, he lingered on the banks of the 
 Yadkin. Cornwallis, having forded the 
 river, encamped at Salem, on the same 
 side of the Yadkin with the Americans, 
 and about twenty-five miles from Guil 
 ford courthouse, then the capital of Guil 
 ford county, North Carolina, where Gen 
 eral Greene had halted with his army. 
 
 CHAPTER XCYII. 
 
 To fight, or not to fight? Retreat of General Greene continued. Across the Dan. The Light-Corps. Ingenious Rnse. 
 Good Service. Otho Williams. Suffering from Cold. Blood on the Ground. Cornwallis retires to Hillsborough. 
 A Patriotic Woman. Watching the Enemy. Greene recrosses the Dan. A Campaign in North Carolina. Pick- 
 ens and Lee after Tarleton. Attempt at a Surprise. The Enemy gone ! Another Attempt. Enemies for Friends. 
 Success. A Bloody Conflict. No Mercy. 
 
 1781, 
 
 THE self-reliant Greene, with un 
 usual deference to the opinion of 
 others, called a council of war, and sub 
 mitted to his officers the question wheth 
 er it was expedient to fight the enemy. 
 The Americans numbered but two thou 
 sand and thirty-six men fit for duty. The 
 British were three thousand. The latter 
 were all well-disciplined regulars, fully 
 supplied with provisions, clothing, and 
 ammunition, and in perfect fighting or 
 der. About five hundred of the former 
 were militia, and all were but half clothed, 
 half fed, and much discouraged by their 
 long flight. The council, with one mind, 
 agreed that it was expedient to continue 
 the retreat to Virginia. 
 
 Greene s purpose was now with the ut 
 most despatch to reach the river Dan, 
 which, rising in the mountains of Yirginia, 
 flows in its winding course into North 
 Carolina, and thence back again into the 
 former state. He hoped, by crossing this 
 stream, and putting its waters between 
 him and his pursuers, to gain sufficient 
 time to gather such reinforcements as 
 would enable him to stem the progress of, 
 and perhaps drive back, the formidable 
 Cornwallis. The American commander, 
 with his usual foresight, had made pro 
 vision for a supply of boats, and was thus 
 enabled to direct his course over the low 
 er and deeper part of the Dan ; while his 
 enemy, unconscious of his resources, be- 
 
BATTLES OF AME1UCA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 lieved that his only practicable route was 
 across the upper fords, which alone were 
 passable in that season of freshet. 
 
 To protect his retreat, and to conceal 
 its direction from the enemy, General 
 Greene formed a light-corps of seven hun 
 dred men, made up of some of the choicest 
 infantry under Lieutenant-Colonel How 
 ard ; of Lee s legion, which had joined 
 Huger on his march to Guilford court 
 house ; of the cavalry of Colonel Wash 
 ington ; and of a few mounted militia ri 
 flemen. While Greene hurried forward 
 with the main body to the Dan, the light- 
 corps was ordered to keep between him 
 and Cornwallis, and so to direct its move 
 ments as to give the enemy the idea that 
 it composed the rear of the army, and 
 was pursuing the same route, while its 
 course should be devious, and tending as 
 it were to the upper fords of the river. 
 The command of this corps was offered 
 to General Morgan, but he refused it, as 
 he had determined to retire from the ar 
 my, in consequence of illness.* Colonel 
 Otho Williams, of Maryland, was then ap 
 pointed. 
 
 The service of these troops, under their 
 spirited and skilful commander, was of 
 signal benefit. Lord Cornwallis was de 
 luded by the judicious manoeuvres of Wil 
 liams. While the light-corps was now here 
 and now there at one time halting for 
 a skirmish with the British vanguard, and 
 again retiring before the approach of the 
 main body his lordship believed that 
 
 Morgan soon after resigned his commission. In 1794, 
 lie commanded the militia of Virginia, called out to aid in 
 suppressing the whiskey insurrection in Pennsylvania, and 
 continued in the service until the following year. He was 
 alter ward elected to a seat in Congress. He died in 1799. 
 
 he had the whole American army before 
 him, and concentrated all his attention 
 upon Colonel Williams and his seven hun 
 dred men. 
 
 Greene, in the meantime, was pursuing 
 his route to the river Dan, without the 
 least obstruction from the enemy. Other 
 difficulties, however, beset him on his toil 
 some and painful march. The cold had 
 become intense, and the rough roads fro 
 zen so hard, that the soldiers, who were 
 generally barefoot, left the tracks of their 
 bruised feet in blood upon the ground ! 
 Clothing was so scarce, that few of the 
 men had coats to their backs ; and in the 
 best-supplied corps a single blanket was 
 the allowance of covering during those 
 nights of winter for four men. But the 
 troops bore up manfully against every 
 trial, and after a weary march of four 
 days they reached Irwin s ferry, 
 on the river Dan, seventy miles 
 from Guilford. Here boats were found 
 in readiness, and General Greene imme 
 diately threw his army across the river; 
 while he sent word to Williams to come 
 up with his light detachment. With con 
 summate skill and daring, this brave sol 
 dier had kept his handful of troops far in 
 the rear of his commander, and almost in 
 the very grasp of Lord Cornwallis. He 
 had now a march of forty miles to make, 
 with the whole British army after him, 
 before he could reach the western bank 
 of the Dan. 
 
 These forty miles, along a deep and 
 broken road, incrusted with ice, Williams 
 accomplished in four-and-twenty hours. 
 Lee, who brought up the rear of the de 
 tachment, crossed the ferry (Boyd s) with 
 
 Feb. 13. 
 
BKVOLDTIOXARY.] 
 
 GENERAL GREENE RECROSSES THE DAN. 
 
 833 
 
 Fcb, 14. 
 
 his last troop of horse, at nine 
 o clock at night, and landed on 
 the eastern bank, as the British dragoons 
 in advance rode down to the shore which 
 he had just left! "So tangible was the 
 hand of Providence in this," says Lossing, 
 " that it was regarded throughout the 
 whole country as a mark of special favor 
 to the American cause, and in no small 
 degree strengthened the hopes of the re 
 publicans. During this retreat of nearly 
 two hundred miles, not a single man de 
 serted from the American ranks. This 
 fact is well established by official reports, 
 yet a late British writer has asserted that 
 the militia had nearly all deserted Gen 
 eral Greene when he reached the Dan." 
 Lord Cornwallis thus foiled in his at 
 tempt to overtake Greene, and finding it 
 neither easy nor safe to follow him into 
 Virginia, sullenly retired southward from 
 the banks of the Dan to Hillsborough, in 
 North Carolina. Here he established a 
 camp, raised the royal standard, and by 
 proclamation invited the inhabitants to 
 repair to it. The loyalists of Hillsbor- 
 oiiffh and its neighborhood did not come 
 
 o o 
 
 forward to enroll themselves as freely as 
 was expected. " Hundreds," wrote Colo 
 nel Tarleton, " rode into the camp to talk 
 over the proclamation, inquire the news 
 of the day, and take a view of the king s 
 troops. Some of the more zealous prom 
 ised to raise companies, and even regi 
 ments, but their followers and depend 
 ants were slow to enlist." His lordship 
 accordingly sent Tarleton, with five hun 
 dred troops, to beat up the country be 
 tween Haw and Deep Rivers, for loyal 
 recruits. 
 
 105 
 
 In the meanwhile, General Greene was 
 refreshing and strengthening his wearied 
 army in the fertile county of Halifax, in 
 Virginia, and in the midst of a friendly 
 population. Apprized of the movement 
 of Cornwallis, by means of a white hand 
 kerchief, which a patriotic woman dis 
 played on the opposite side of the Dan, 
 according to her promise, showing the 
 departure of the enemy, Greene now de 
 spatched across the river a body of light> 
 troops, under Pickens and Lee, to watch 
 their manoeuvres. Soon after, he 
 himself followed with his whole 
 army, anxious to counteract, if possible, 
 by a show of force, the influence which 
 Cornwallis, according to an exaggerated 
 rumor, was exercising upon the inhabit 
 ants of North Carolina, to whom even the 
 patriots were disposed to submit while 
 there was no army in the state to sustain 
 their cause. 
 
 Pickens and Lee had been ordered to 
 gain the front of Cornwallis; to place 
 themselves as close to him as safety would 
 permit; to interrupt his communication 
 with the country; to repress the medi 
 tated rising of the loyalists ; and, at all 
 events, to intercept any party of them 
 which might attempt to join the enemy. 
 
 Greene was so anxious that his plans 
 should be faithfully executed, that, re 
 gardless of danger and fatigue, he crossed 
 the Dan in advance of his army, accom 
 panied only by a small escort of cavalry, 
 and rode on until he overtook Pickens 
 and Lee, with whom he passed the night 
 in busy consultation. Early the next day 
 he was again across the river, preparing 
 to move his army from its comfortable 
 
834 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 quarters in Virginia, and once more ex 
 pose them to the trials and uncertainties 
 of a campaign in North Carolina. 
 
 In the meantime, Pickens and Lee, on 
 the alert for service, eagerly caught at 
 the news, brought in by a scout, that 
 Tarleton was out with horse, foot, and ar 
 tillery, and was moving toward the Haw. 
 Pickens and Lee resolved on an attempt 
 at a surprise, and hastened to the river, 
 which they forded on hearing that Tarle 
 ton had already crossed. A countryman 
 was overtaken at noon by the roadside, 
 from whom it was learned that the British 
 colonel was encamped only three miles in 
 advance, where, with his horses unsaddled, 
 he was apparently resting in confident se 
 curity. Lee and Pickens were now hope 
 ful of success, and, immediately disposing 
 their troops in order for attack, cautiously 
 moved through the woods to the place 
 where they expected to pounce upon an 
 unsuspecting enemy. 
 
 The movement was conducted prompt 
 ly and carefully, and without an untoward 
 occurrence they soon came in sight of the 
 farm and farmhouse, the " expected thea 
 tre of glory," when, lo and behold ! the 
 enemy had gone. Two of Tarle ton s staff- 
 officers, however, who had remained be 
 hind to settle for provisions, were taken 
 prisoners ; and from them it was learned 
 that their commander would not proceed 
 more than six miles farther. It was de 
 termined therefore to follow at once, and 
 make another effort to entrap the wily 
 colonel of dragoons. 
 
 In order to give success to this second 
 attempt, it was resolved, if possible, to 
 pass as a reinforcement sent from Hills- 
 
 borough to the aid of Tarleton. The two 
 British officers who had been captured 
 were placed in the centre of the cavalry, 
 and ordered to give color to the decep 
 tion ; while the sergeant in charge was 
 directed to shoot them down at once, in 
 case of the least demonstration to the con 
 trary. The country-people, though famil 
 iar with the sight of the British troops, 
 were less likely to detect the stratagem, 
 since Lee s legion, both cavalry and infan 
 try, with their short green coats and their 
 accoutrements, had very much the look 
 of the enemy s lightrcorps. 
 
 The effect of the ruse was soon mani 
 fest. Two young Carolina loyalists came 
 riding up the road, and, being accosted by 
 the hoi semen in advance, in their assumed 
 character of British officers, expressed 
 their joy at the meeting, and freely de 
 clared that they had been sent forward to 
 find out Tarleton s encampment by Colo 
 nel Pyle, who was on his way with four 
 hundred loyalists to join that officer. 
 
 While the two young men were being 
 conducted to Lieutenant-Colonel Lee, 
 Pickens was requested to keep his rifle 
 men on the left flank, well concealed in 
 the woods, as the green twigs in their 
 hats (which the southern patriot militia 
 always wore as a distinguishing mark) 
 would cause them to be recognised, and 
 defeat the stratagem. 
 
 Lee so skilfully kept up the deception, 
 that the youths took him for Tarleton 
 himself. One of them was now sent back 
 with the compliments of the pretended 
 British colonel, and a request to Colonel 
 Pyle that he would draw out his troops 
 along the margin of the road, in order to 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] LEE S RUSE. SLAUGHTER OF THE LOYALISTS. 
 
 835 
 
 give room for the expected British force 
 to pass at once without delay. The -oth 
 er tory was kept by the side of Lee him 
 self as a guide; and, as they rode on to 
 gether, the youthful loyalist was profuse 
 in his expression of respectful devotion 
 to the fictitious Tarleton, and full of glee 
 at the prospect of the junction with Colo 
 nel Pyle. In the meantime, his comrade, 
 who had but a short distance to go, gal 
 loped back, after having successfully ac 
 complished his errand. He brought word 
 from the tory commander that he would 
 " be happy to comply with the wishes of 
 Colonel Tarleton." 
 
 Colonel Pyle and his loyalists were now 
 soon in sight, on the right of the road, 
 drawn up as had been requested by the 
 pretended Tarleton. Lee had concluded, 
 as he himself states, "to make known to 
 the colonel his real character as soon as 
 he should confront him, with a solemn as 
 surance of his and his associates perfect 
 exemption from injury, with the choice 
 of returning to their homes, or of taking 
 a more generous part, by uniting with the 
 defenders of their common country against 
 the common foe." But, unfortunately for 
 Pyle, the position of his troops, on the 
 right side of the road, made it necessary 
 for Lee to pass along the whole line of 
 the loyalists before he could reach him at 
 the head of his men. 
 
 The loyalists presented a fair array of 
 sturdy yeomen, mounted on good, ser 
 viceable nags, and with their rifles and 
 fowling-pieces slung across their right 
 shoulders. They were advantageously 
 placed for the republicans, in the event 
 of a sudden discovery of the ruse; for the 
 
 muzzles of their pieces being in an oppo 
 site direction to the approach of Lee s cav 
 alry, they could not fire without a change 
 in their position, which was not very easy 
 to be effected, with a body of dragoons, 
 with drawn swords, " close in with their 
 horses heads." 
 
 " I passed along the line," writes Lee, 
 " at the head of the column, with a smi 
 ling countenance, dropping occasionally 
 expressions complimentary to the good 
 looks and commendable conduct of my 
 loyalist friends. At length I reached Colo 
 nel Pyle, when the customary civilities 
 were promptly interchanged. Grasping 
 Pyle by the hand, I was in the act of con 
 summating my plan, when the enemy s 
 left, discovering Pickens s militia, not suf 
 ficiently concealed, began to fire upon the 
 rear of the cavalry commanded by Captain 
 Eggleston. This officer instantly turned 
 upon the foe, as did immediately after the 
 whole column. 
 
 " The conflict was quickly decided, and 
 bloody on one side only. Ninety of the 
 royalists were killed, and most of the sur 
 vivors wounded. Dispersing in every di 
 rection, not being pursued, these escaped. 
 During this sudden rencontre, in some 
 parts of the line the cry of Mercy ! was 
 heard, coupled with the assurance of be 
 ing our best friends ; but no expostulation 
 could be admitted in a conjuncture so criti 
 cal. Humanity even forbade it, as its first 
 injunction is to care for your own; and 
 our safety was not compatible with that 
 of the supplicants, until disabled to offend. 
 Pyle, falling under many wounds, was left 
 on the field as dying, and yet he survived. 
 We lost not a man, and only one horse." 
 
836 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 CHAPTER XCVIII. 
 
 Lee and Pickens up with Tavleton. His Escape. Lord Cornwallis thwarted. He shifts his Quarters. General Greene 
 in Pursuit. Success of the Guerilla Leaders. Williams pursued. Greene reinforced. Repose. Policy of the Tories. 
 Greene at Guilford Courthouse. He awaits Battle. Cornwallis accepts the Challenge. Tarleton put to Flight. 
 Renewal of the Engagement. Order of Battle. First Success of the British. Charge of Colonel Washington. A 
 Desperate Manoeuvre of Cornwallis. Friends and Foes. Hard-earned Victory of the Enemy. Orderly Retreat of the 
 Americans. The Losses. A Terrible Night. 
 
 1781. 
 
 LEE S troopers, while their sabres 
 were dripping with the blood of 
 Colonel Pyle s loyalists, were again on the 
 road, led by their spirited commander, 
 still panting for action. Tarleton, whom 
 Lee was always most eager to meet, was 
 within a few miles of him; and he now 
 hastened to overtake him. A short ride 
 brought the leading horseman in sight of 
 the British camp. As soon as Pickens 
 came up with his militia, the two com 
 manders consulted anxiously together. 
 
 The sun was setting, and for awhile 
 Lee and Pickens hesitated whether im 
 mediate action, even at that late hour, 
 was not the most eligible. The troops, 
 however, being fatigued, and the night 
 fast approaching, it was determined to put 
 off the attack until the next day. Sev 
 eral hours before dawn, Lee and his le 
 gion were in their saddles, and, lighted 
 by naming pine-torches, advanced along 
 the road to reconnoitre. 
 
 Tarleton was equally on the alert. He 
 andhisofficers,having supped gayly,were 
 anxiously longing for the dawn of day, 
 that they might revenge themselves for 
 the slaughter of Pyle s tories, when a mes 
 senger rode in haste from Lord Cornwal 
 lis, with orders for Tarleton to recross the 
 
 Haw without delay. Soon after, came 
 two other hurried riders, on the same 
 mission, so fearful was his lordship (who 
 had heard of Greene s return to North 
 Carolina, and of the movements of Lee 
 and Pickens) lest his indispensable colo 
 nel of dragoons should be surprised and 
 cut off with all his force. Tarleton now, 
 in obedience to orders, thought only of 
 escape, and by a prompt movement suc 
 ceeded in crossing the Haw before Lee 
 and Pickens could come up with him. He 
 then rejoined in safety the main body of 
 the British, under Cornwallis. 
 
 The earl was so thwarted in his plans 
 by the return of Greene to Carolina, and 
 the terror produced in the country by 
 the bloody catastrophe of the royalists 
 under Pyle, that he was forced to change 
 his tactics. The tories, moreover, were 
 so discouraged, that few were now wil 
 ling to serve ; and many, who had already 
 corne out to join his lordship, returned to 
 their homes, prudently to await the issue 
 of events. Finding himself, as he wrote, 
 "among timid friends, and adjoining to 
 inveterate rebels," at Hillsborough, he re 
 solved to shift his quarters, and march in 
 to a neighborhood where he hoped to find 
 stronger and more srenerous adherents of 
 
 o O 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] GREENE REINFORCED. PRELIMINARY MOVEMENTS. 
 
 837 
 
 Feb. 26, 
 
 the royal cause. Accordingly, 
 the British commander crossed 
 the Haw with his army, and took a posi 
 tion near Allamance creek. 
 
 General Greene, following the move of 
 Lord Cornwallis, crossed the Haw near 
 its source, and encamped between Trou 
 blesome creek and Reedy fork, about fif 
 teen miles above the British position. At 
 the same time, the American commander 
 threw out his light-corps under Colonel 
 Williams, aided by Pickens and Lee, to 
 hover near the enemy. These active gue 
 rilla leaders met with their usual success. 
 Rapidly moving here and there about the 
 foe, they harassed him in every possible 
 manner cutting oif his supplies, inter 
 cepting his messengers, capturing his for- 
 aging-parties, skirmishing with his ad 
 vanced troops, embarrassing his marches, 
 and exhausting not only his resources, 
 but his spirit and patience. His lordship, 
 tired of this annoyance, strove to surprise 
 Williams s force, and by a sudden blow to 
 crush it at once while too remote to de 
 rive any support from the main body un 
 der Greene ; or to steal a march upon the 
 former, and, interposing himself between 
 the two, force the latter into action in de 
 fence of the advanced detachment. 
 
 Williams, though uninformed of this 
 movement of Cornwallis, was so vigilant 
 ly guarded, that the approach of 
 his lordship was discovered when 
 within two miles of the camp. A rapid 
 mase ensued across Reedy fork to Wet- 
 zul s mills. Williams, however, with his 
 start ahead, succeeded in distancing his 
 competitor, and, gaining the opposite side 
 of the stream, strove to hold his ground, 
 
 March G, 
 
 but was obliged to give way before the 
 superior numbers of the British. In the 
 meanwhile, General Greene, having been 
 informed, by a timely message from Wil 
 liams, of the approach of Cornwallis, had 
 retreated across the Haw, where he was 
 soon joined by Williams, whom the enemy 
 had ceased to pursue. 
 
 General Greene encamped on Trouble 
 some creek, and awaited reinforcements. 
 Soon came in Lieutenant-Colonel Greene, 
 with his new levies ; Brigadier-General 
 Lawson, with the Virginia militia ; Camp 
 bell, Preston, and Lynch, with their corps, 
 six hundred strong; followed by the mi 
 litia of North Carolina, under the com 
 mand of Brigadier-Generals Butler and 
 Eaton. Thus was mustered a force of 
 four thousand five hundred in all, horse, 
 foot, and artillery, of which sixteen hun 
 dred men were regulars, though mostly 
 raw recruits. Greene, glad of the oppor 
 tunity given him by the temporary inac 
 tivity of Cornwallis, gave his troops re 
 pose, and sought to drill and organize his 
 new levies for the conflict, which he did 
 not care long to postpone, now that he 
 was reinforced, and well supplied with 
 stores and provisions. 
 
 Hitherto, the fluctuations in numbers, 
 of Greene s little army, caused by the in 
 stability of the militia, who were chiefly 
 volunteers and who, the general said, 
 "after every little skirmish, went home 
 to tell the news" had led him to be ex 
 ceedingly cautious and circumspect, and 
 to employ the Fabian policy of warfare 
 which he had learned from Washington ; 
 but,now that he had substantial reinforce 
 ments, in regular recruits from Virginia 
 
838 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 and North Carolina, he felt strong enough 
 to oope with Cornwallis, and earnestly de 
 sired an engagement. 
 
 His lordship, failing in his attempt to 
 interpose himself between Williams and 
 Greene, and thus force the latter to a dis 
 advantageous conflict, retired to Bell s 
 mill, on Deep river, where, in the repose 
 of the camp, he sought to refresh his 
 troops, until an opportunity should offer 
 to try his strength with his energetic an 
 tagonist. The British army under his 
 immediate command now amounted to 
 only two thousand four hundred men, a 
 force too small to be frittered away by 
 skirmishing, while there was no imme 
 diate prospect of reinforcements. His 
 lordship could only afford to expend his 
 strength in a decisive blow. The loyal 
 ists of the country held back their aid, in 
 timid anxiety about the result. "They 
 determined to repress their zeal, and to 
 wait in quietude until the British superi 
 ority should be manifested by signal suc 
 cess." 
 
 Greene was now prepared, and reso 
 lutely bent upon meeting his antagonist, 
 who had so long striven to provoke him 
 to battle. Calling in his detachment of 
 dragoons (which, under Colonel Lee, had 
 been sticking close to the British camp, 
 much to the annoyance of Cornwallis, in 
 tercepting his messengers and darting up 
 on his foraging-parties), and leaving his 
 heavy baggage at the iron-works on Trou 
 blesome creek, the American commander 
 now moved his whole army ten miles in 
 War. 14. advance > to Guilford courthouse. 
 Here, taking his position within 
 twelve miles of the camp of the enemy, 
 
 Mar, 15. 
 
 he calmly awaited the coming up of the 
 earl. 
 
 Lord Cornwallis did not hesitate to ac 
 cept the challenge which was so distinctly 
 proffered by this close advance of Greene. 
 The whole British force was on 
 the move at break of day, and 
 before sunrise the advance-guards of both 
 armies came into collision. Tarleton led 
 the one, Lee headed the other. With the 
 British colonel were his troopers, a corps 
 of light-infantry, and the Hessian yo.gcrs. 
 "Light-horse Harry" was at the head of 
 his famous legion of horse and foot, to 
 gether with some mountaineers and Vir 
 ginia militia. Tarleton came riding up 
 leisurely with his troop; and Lee, per 
 ceiving his approach, turned his force with 
 a rapid wheel, to get closer to the camp. 
 The British took this sudden movement 
 for a retreat, and, firing their pistols, came 
 on at a quick pace, and with a loud shout 
 charged. 
 
 At this moment, Lee brought his dra 
 goons to the right about, and fell with the 
 whole weight of his column upon the en 
 emy. Tarleton sounded a retreat on the 
 instant he discovered that the supposed 
 fugitives had turned upon him. Before 
 he could escape, however, many of his 
 troopers were dismounted, some of them 
 killed, and others made prisoners, while 
 their horses were thrown to the ground. 
 The strong, active, and high-conditioned 
 chargers, with the skilful horsemanship 
 of their Virginia riders, bred to the sad 
 dle, gave Lee s legion much the superior 
 ity in every contest with the cavalry of 
 Tarleton, who was forced to content him 
 self with any sorry animal that he could 
 
R EVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF GUILFORD COURTHOUSE. 
 
 839 
 
 pick up, while his troopers knew nothing 
 of riding but what they had learned in 
 the barrack-school. Not a single Ameri 
 can soldier or horse was injured in the 
 encounter. 
 
 Tarleton fled with rapidity, hard pressed 
 by Lee, w r ho continued in pursuit until he 
 caught sight of the British guards coining 
 up, when he ordered his cavalry to retire. 
 The legion infantry, however, supported 
 by some Virginia riflemen, coming to his 
 rescue, Lee soon came to a stand, and, 
 after a sharp action with the guards (as 
 he found Cornwallis approaching), again 
 withdrew toward the main body. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Greene had drawn 
 up his army in three lines on a wooded 
 height near Guilford courthouse. The 
 first, composed of the North-Carolina mi 
 litia, under Generals Butler and Eaton, 
 was posted behind a rail-fence, with a long 
 and narrow open field in front, and woods 
 in the rear and on either side. At some 
 distance in advance of the militia, on the 
 road along which the enemy were expect 
 ed to approach, stood two six-pounders, 
 under Captain Singleton. Three hundred 
 yards behind the first line, across the road, 
 and under the cover of a deep wood, was 
 placed the second, composed of the Vir 
 ginia militia, under Generals Stevens and 
 Lawson. The third line, made up of the 
 four regiments of regulars, was thrown 
 back several hundred yards to the rear 
 of the second, and posted in a field on 
 the right of the road. The two Virginia 
 regiments formed the right wing, under 
 the command of Huger, and the two Ma 
 ryland the left, under Williams. Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Washington with his cav 
 
 alry, Captain Kirkwood with the Dela 
 ware company, and Colonel Lynch with a 
 battalion of Virginia militia, covered the 
 right flank ; and Lieutenant-Colonel Lee 
 with his legion, together with some Vir 
 ginia riflemen under Colonel Campbell, 
 covered the left. In the rear of the whole 
 was stationed a small park of artillery. 
 
 As the head of the British came up the 
 road, Captain Singleton opened afire from 
 his two six-pounders in front of the Ameri 
 can lines, which was briskly returned by 
 a cannonade from the enemy s artillery. 
 Cornwallis came spiritedly to the attack, 
 rapidly forming his whole force as he ap 
 proached into one line. The seventy-first 
 British regiment,with the Hessian of Boxe, 
 were on the right, commanded by General 
 Leslie, and covered by the first battalion 
 of the guards, under Colonel Norton. The 
 left, under the command of Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Webster, was composed of the 
 twenty-third and thirty-third regiments, 
 and covered by General O Hara with his 
 grenadiers and the second battalion of the 
 guards. The artillery, supported by the 
 lightrinfantry of the guards, and i\\Q yagers 
 (German riflemen), moved along the road 
 in the centre ; and the cavalry in column, 
 under Tarleton, formed a corps of obser 
 vation and reserve behind. 
 
 As the British regulars came steadily 
 up, their undaunted look and confident 
 shouts struck terror to the hearts of the 
 inexperienced North Carolina militia/who, 
 after firing, contrary to orders, some dis 
 tant shots, turned and fled. The officers 
 strove to rally them, but all in vain, al 
 though not a man had been touched by 
 the enemy s shots! Like a torrent they 
 
840 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 rushed headlong through the neighboring 
 woods, throwing away their arms, knap 
 sacks, and even canteens ! The British 
 advance was, however, checked awhile by 
 Lee s legion, which came up to the sup 
 port of the front. 
 
 The second line, composed of the Vir 
 ginia militia, stood their ground manful 
 ly. Their commander, General Stevens, 
 had taken the precaution to station sen 
 tinels behind them, with orders to shoot 
 down the first man that flinched. Open 
 ing their ranks to allow the fugitives of 
 the first line to make their way in their 
 fright to the rear, the Virginians closed 
 again, and presented such a firm front to 
 the enemy, that they were forced to bring 
 up a part of their reserve. The Virgin 
 ians were, however, finally compelled to 
 yield before the British bayonets and the 
 charge of their cavalry ; but not until the 
 brave General Stevens, who had hitherto 
 kept his men so well to their work, was 
 wounded in the thio;h. and while beinw; 
 
 o / o 
 
 carried off the field, ordered a retreat. 
 Supported by Colonel Lee s legion and 
 Campbell s riflemen, the spirited Virgin 
 ians were able to retire in good order to 
 the third line, where the regulars were 
 now prepared to bear the brunt of the 
 battle. 
 
 The British troops, inspirited by their 
 success in their attack on the front lines, 
 came down upon the American regulars 
 in the rear with great impetuosity. Colo 
 nel Webster, however, who led the left 
 wing of the enemy, was so stoutly met by 
 the first regiment of Marylanders on the 
 American right, that he was forced to fall 
 back beyond a ravine in his rear, and take 
 
 post on a height, until the rest of the Brit 
 ish line came up. The second regiment 
 of Marylanders, who were mostly raw re 
 cruits, held their ground less firmly, and 
 gave way before Stewart, leading on the 
 British guards. 
 
 The veterans of the first regiment of 
 Marylanders, however, who had just driv 
 en back Webster, came to the rescue of 
 their flying comrades, and began a ter 
 rific onslaught with fixed bayonets upon 
 their pursuers. The enemy, nevertheless, 
 fought desperately, and the issue seemed 
 uncertain ; when Colonel Washington, ma 
 king a charge with his cavalry, gave the 
 Americans manifestly the advantage. In 
 the ensuing struggle, the guards, having 
 lost their commander (Stewart), turned 
 and fled. 
 
 At this moment, Lord Cornwallis re 
 sorted to a desperate manoeuvre to save 
 the fortunes of the day. He brought up 
 his artillery, and opened a fire indiscrimi 
 nately upon friends and foes ! Brigadier 
 O Hara, among the bravest of the brave, 
 ventured to remonstrate, declaring that 
 it was suicidal. "True," replied his lord 
 ship ; " but it is a necessary evil, which 
 we must endure, to arrest impending de 
 struction." The fire was renewed, and 
 every ball discharged at the Americans 
 endangered the life of a British soldier. 
 Both friend and foe suffered terribly; but 
 Cornwallis, by this desperate expedient, 
 saved the day. The guards had a chance 
 to rally, as their pursuers were checked 
 by the cannonade ; and Colonel Webster, 
 returning in the meanwhile to the attack, 
 came up in time to throw his whole weight 
 in their favor, and thus to gain at last the 
 
REVOLUTIONARY . 
 
 LOSSES AND RESULTS OF THE CONFLICT. 
 
 841 
 
 hard-earned victory. Tarleton, in com 
 mand of the cavalry in reserve, made a 
 faint show of pursuit, but Cornwallis soon 
 recalled his wearied troops. Greene was 
 enabled to draw off his force in good or 
 der to the bank of the Reedy fork (the 
 small stream which ran in the rear of 
 his position) ; and detached parties here 
 and there, under the cover of the woods, 
 as they retired from the field, still kept 
 up a skirmishing fire, by which the ene 
 my suffered severely. 
 
 The conflict, which lasted nearly two 
 hours, was one of the severest of the war. 
 
 Although the enemy remained masters 
 of the field, they were too much crippled 
 to follow up the victory. Their soldiers, 
 as usual, fought with great braver} 7 ; and, 
 as Marshall justly observes, " no battle in 
 the course of the war reflects more honor 
 on the courage of the British troops than 
 that of Guilford." A large part of Gen 
 eral Greene s force was, as we have seen, 
 untried militia; not one thousand of his 
 men had ever seen service ; and the vet 
 eran volunteers under Pickens had, some 
 days previously, been despatched to South 
 Carolina, where they were imperatively 
 demanded to meet the " black brigades" 
 which the British were seeking to em 
 body in that quarter during the absence 
 of the American army. 
 
 The havoc in both armies was great. 
 Of the British, ninety-three were killed 
 in the action, four hundred and thirteen 
 wounded, and twenty-six were missing. 
 Their officers, as usual, suffered greatly. 
 The Honorable Lieutenant-Colonel Stew 
 art, of tho guards, and four other officers, 
 106 
 
 were killed. Brigadier-Generals O Hara 
 and Howard (the latter a volunteer), Lieu 
 tenant-Colonels Webster and Tarleton 
 nine captains, four lieutenants, five en 
 signs, and two adjutants, one of whom was 
 a younger brother of the great Charles 
 James Fox, were among the wounded. 
 Webster s wound proved mortal, and Gen 
 eral O Hara s recovery from his injuries 
 was lon^ doubtful. 
 
 O 
 
 The loss of the Americans was more 
 than four hundred killed and wounded, 
 and eight or nine hundred missing; the 
 latter were principally the North-Carolina 
 militia, who had so disgracefully fled at 
 the beginning of the action. 
 
 Although the British claimed the vic 
 tory, it proved a barren one, and they de 
 plored its results as much as if it had been 
 a defeat. "Another such would ruin the 
 British army," said Fox, in the house of 
 commons. Frightful was the amount of 
 human suffering, as the English them 
 selves admitted, by which they had ob 
 tained their triumph. The wounded were 
 collected as expeditiously as possible; but 
 as they were scattered over the great ex 
 tent of wild ground which composed the 
 field of battle, many perished before the} 7 
 could be reached. The army was also 
 destitute of tents; and there w r as not a 
 sufficient number of houses, in that mea- 
 gerly-settled country, to receive the suf 
 ferers. The night which followed was in 
 tensely dark, the rain poured down in tor 
 rents, and the cries of the wounded and 
 dying, sounding dismally from the field 
 of conflict throughout every hour, struck 
 each human heart with terror. 
 
842 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 CHAPTER XCIX. 
 
 General Greene still hopeful. Retreat of a Conqueror. Colonel Lee hangs on the Rear of Lord Cornwallis. Ureene 
 again in Pursuit. A Precipitate Flight. Greene in South Carolina. Cornwallis at Wilmington. Another Cam 
 paign. The Earl goes to Virginia. Strike the Traitor. Expedition against Arnold. Lafayette on the Move. 
 
 Movements of the French Fleet. Action with the British. Disputed Victory. General Phillips in Virginia. York- 
 town taken. Fire and Devastation. Success of Lafayette. The British at Mount Vernon. Terms. Rebuke of 
 Washington. Movements of Cornwallis in Virginia. His Exultation. His Contempt of Lafayette. Charley. Les 
 sons of Washington. Cautious System of Tactics. Tarleton on the Alert. 
 
 1781. 
 
 GENERAL GREENE was worn in body 
 by the fatigues and anxieties of the 
 hard struggle at Guilford courthouse, but 
 his resolute spirit was undismayed. From 
 the field of battle, where fate had decided 
 against him, he re treated to the iron-works 
 on Troublesome creek. Here he tarried 
 two days, in order to call in his scattered 
 forces, and while awaiting the manoeu 
 vres of the British commander, to make 
 ready to meet or thwart him. "Lord 
 Cornwallis," wrote Greene, " will not give 
 up this country, without being soundly 
 beaten. I wish our force was more com 
 petent to the business." He added, how 
 ever, more cheerfully, "But I am in hopes, 
 by little and little, to reduce him in time." 
 Cornwallis was in no disposition to fol 
 low up his dearly-bought triumph at Guil 
 ford courthouse with any immediate at 
 tempt at another such victory. With 
 nearly a third of his force slain, many of 
 his best officers killed or wounded, and 
 not a single benefit gained, he resolved, 
 conqueror as he was, to abandon western 
 Carolina to the possession of the Ameri 
 cans, and retreat toward the seaboard. 
 Accordingly, three days after his success 
 (having first issued an exultant but inef- 
 
 Mar. 18. 
 
 fectual proclamation, in which he boasted 
 of victory, called upon all good citizens to 
 join his standard, and offered pardon to 
 all " rebels" who should lay down their 
 arms), his lordship destroyed all his bag 
 gage, left his hospital and seventy of his 
 wounded to the vanquished foe, 
 and set out by slow marches, as 
 befitted the condition of his maimed ar 
 my, toward Cross creek. 
 
 Greene was on the alert, and followed 
 the retreating march of Cornwallis, and 
 would have hastened to overtake and give 
 him battle had he not been delayed by 
 the want of ammunition. Lee, with his 
 legion, and a militia-corps of riflemen, 
 however, being sent in advance, hovered 
 about the lagging march of the British 
 army, which was still so prostrated by its 
 disastrous victory, thnt hardly an attempt 
 was made to drive off the pertinacious 
 American skirmishers. 
 
 At length, obtaining the necessary sup 
 plies of ammunition, Greene again moved 
 on in pursuit, and reached liam- 
 say s mills, on the Deep river, in 
 Chatham county, just after Cornwallis had 
 crossed the stream. So precipitately had 
 his lordship decamped, that some of his 
 
 28. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 OPERATIONS IX VIRGINIA. 
 
 843 
 
 dead lay on the ground nnburied ; and a 
 welcome supply of fresh beef had been 
 left behind, upon which the famishing pa 
 triot soldiers fed voraciously. Here the 
 American commander was stayed by the 
 conduct of the militia, who, worn out by 
 their march through a rough country, 
 stripped of its meager supplies by the en 
 emy in advance, now insisted upon their 
 discharge, as their term of service had ex 
 pired. Greene was compelled to forego 
 his eager desire to overtake the earl, and, 
 after a short repose at Ramsay s mills, 
 found it expedient to shift the scene of 
 action to the southward. Accordingly, 
 with only a handful of continental troops 
 left, he marched toward Camden, 
 in South Carolina, where he ex 
 pected the co-operation of those active 
 partisans Sumter, Pickens, and Marion. 
 
 Cornwallis, though among staunch loy 
 alists in the Highland-Scotch settlements 
 on Cross creek, finding that the country 
 was too poor to support his troops, con 
 tinued his march to Wilmington, at the 
 mouth of Cape-Fear river, where Major 
 Craig had been established with a small 
 British force, and a large supply of stores 
 and provisions. 
 
 The earl had no sooner arrived 
 at Wilmington, and refreshed his 
 suffering troops, than he began, with his 
 usual prompt energy, to make ready for 
 another campaign. Hearing of General 
 Greene s movement to South Carolina, he 
 would have gone to the aid of Lord Raw- 
 don, at Camden, to whose danger he was 
 fearfully alive. It was too late, however, 
 to succor him now. To remain at Wil 
 mington was useless. His lordship there 
 
 fore determined to march his small force 
 (now consisting of only fourteen hundred 
 and thirty-five men, so fatal had been the 
 victory at Guilford courthouse and the 
 subsequent retreat) through North Caro 
 lina to Virginia, and there form a junction 
 with Generals Phillips and Arnold. 
 
 Arnold s destructive foray into Virgin 
 ia, and his threatening attitude at Ports 
 mouth, caused every American eagerly 
 to desire to crush the traitor. To extin 
 guish the malevolent power which the 
 ability of the man rendered him so capa 
 ble of exercising, was not the only motive, 
 however. To punish the betrayer of his 
 country was the desire of every patriotic 
 heart. When, therefore, the French fleet 
 was released from the harbor of Newport, 
 in Rhode Island, by a furious storm which 
 scattered the English blockading squad 
 ron, the opportunity of striking a blow at 
 Arnold was gladly welcomed. 
 
 The chevalier de Ternay having died 
 at Newport, M. Destouches, his successor, 
 agreed to send a portion of his naval force 
 to sail up the Chesapeake and blockade 
 Arnold in Portsmouth, while Washington 
 should despatch a detachment from his 
 army, under the command of Lafayette, 
 to enclose the traitor by land. Washing 
 ton subsequently urged the French ad 
 miral to proceed with his whole fleet and 
 a thousand troops (the French infantry 
 had been placed in winter-quarters atNew- 
 port in November, and the cavalry, de 
 tached from the legion of the duke de 
 Lauzun, were sent to the barracks con 
 structed at Lebanon, in Connecticut) to 
 the coast of Virginia; but M. Destouches 
 had already sent M. de Tilly to sea with 
 
844 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA 
 
 LPAKT n. 
 
 Fob, 0, 
 
 Feb. 20. 
 
 one ship of the line and two frig 
 ates, and was now unable, as the 
 British were again off Newport, to get any 
 more ships out of port. 
 
 Lafayette, with twelve hundred men, 
 followed De Tilly, marching by land to 
 form a junction with the baron 
 Steuben, who then commanded 
 in Virginia. " You are to do no act what 
 ever with Arnold," said Washington, in his 
 instructions to the young marquis, " that 
 directly or by implication may screen him 
 from the punishment due to his treason 
 and desertion, which, if he should fall into 
 your hands, you will execute in the most 
 summary manner." 
 
 The ardent Lafayette set out with san 
 guine hopes of success, which were, how 
 ever, dashed on his march by intelligence 
 of the failure of M. de Tilly, who found 
 on his arrival off Portsmouth that the 
 wary Arnold had cautiously moored his 
 vessels out of harm s way, up Elizabeth 
 river. The Frenchman, in attempting to 
 follow him, ran one of his frigates aground 
 
 O O 
 
 and was obliged to give up the pursuit. 
 He now returned to Newport, having the 
 good luck on the southern coast to fall in 
 with the Romulus, a British fifty-gun ship, 
 which he captured. 
 
 In the meantime, Washington, 
 during a personal interview at 
 Newport with the French commanders, 
 had prevailed upon them to send their 
 whole fleet and eleven hundred men, un 
 der Baron de Vionienil, to attack Arnold 
 at Portsmouth. Lafayette s hopes were 
 again in the ascendant when he heard of 
 the grand demonstration which was to 
 be made by his countrymen, and hastened 
 
 II- h ( 
 
 to join and welcome them. Leaving his 
 troops at Annapolis, in Maryland, he sailed 
 down Chesapeake bay in an open boat to 
 Virginia. Having paid a flying visit to 
 Steuben at York, where the veteran was 
 stirring up the whole population to arms, 
 the young marquis pressed forward to Pe 
 tersburg, where he learned that a fleet 
 had indeed arrived in Hampton roads, but 
 that the British admiral Arbuthnot, and 
 not the chevalier Destouches, commanded 
 it ! Lafayette now turned back with his 
 troops, until, receiving orders from Wash 
 ington, he once more took up his march 
 for Virginia. 
 
 The French fleet had sailed from New 
 port two days after the interview 
 
 J March 8. 
 
 between the allied commanders. 
 
 The English squadron, under Arbuthnot, 
 followed in pursuit on the 10th, and on 
 the 16th the two fleets came together ofl 
 Cape Henry, and had a sharp but brief 
 action, which lasted about an hour. The 
 English admiral gained his purpose by 
 driving the French ships away, and flying 
 his flag in triumph in the Chesapeake ; 
 although M. Destouches, forced as he was 
 to return to Newport, claimed the glory 
 of the victory. 
 
 Major-General Phillips, who was among 
 the officers captured at Saratoga, on the 
 surrender of Burgoyne, having 
 arrived at Portsmouth with a re 
 inforcement of more than two thousand 
 men, assumed the chief command. Up 
 to that time, the traitor Arnold had shared 
 neither the honors nor the booty won by 
 his marauding exploits in Virginia. 
 
 The British were now in such force as 
 to justify an inroad into the interior of 
 
 Mar, 2(5. 
 
RE VOLUTIOX A R Y. ] 
 
 THE BRITISH AT MOUNT VERNON. 
 
 April 1. 
 
 the state. After remaining several weeks 
 at Portsmouth, to strengthen the fortifi 
 cations, General Phillips accordingly em 
 barked some twenty-five hundred men in 
 small armed vessels, and, accompanied by 
 Arnold (who was now subordinate in com 
 mand), ascended James river. Williams- 
 burg was taken, and all the public prop 
 erty in it destroyed. Yorktown was also 
 captured, and its shipyard, together with 
 some armed vessels and stores, burned. 
 The whole country about, villages and 
 plantations, were laid waste. Phillips and 
 Arnold next advancedagainstPetersburg, 
 and, after a spirited but ineffectual resist 
 ance on the part of the militia 
 under the command of General 
 Muhlenburg, destroyed its tobacco and 
 public warehouses. 
 
 Dividing their forces at Petersburg, 
 Phillips marched to Chesterfield court 
 house, where he destroyed the barracks 
 and stores. Arnold, in the meanwhile, 
 went to Osbrunes, where he destroyed the 
 tobacco ; and thence proceeded to War 
 wick, where he opened a fire from the 
 bank of James river upon a flotilla of 
 American armed vessels, which caused 
 their crews to scuttle them and fly to the 
 opposite shore. 
 
 Phillips and Arnold, again joining their 
 forces, now marched to Manchester, a vil 
 lage opposite to Richmond, with the view 
 of crossing James river to the latter place. 
 They had previously driven the baron 
 Steuben, with his little army of a thou 
 sand militia, across the Appomattox. The 
 energetic Lafayette, however, had antici 
 pated the invaders, having arrived just 
 the night before, and was now strongly 
 
 posted in the city with two thousand reg 
 ulars and militia, and a company of dra 
 goons. Phillips thereupon gave up his 
 design against Richmond ; and, after de 
 stroying the stores and a great quantity 
 of tobacco at Manchester, he and Arnold 
 retraced their devastating steps to Ber 
 muda Hundred. They soon afterward 
 re-embarked their troops and proceeded 
 down the river, when Lord Cornwallis, 
 who was then at Wilmington, gave them 
 notice that he was about marching into 
 Virginia. The two commanders then re 
 turned to Petersburg, where they await 
 ed the arrival of his lordship from North 
 Carolina. 
 
 It was during these marauds of the 
 British along the rivers of Virginia, that 
 an English cruiser sailed up the Potomac, 
 burning the dwellings, laying waste the 
 plantations, and exacting supplies from 
 the inhabitants. On coming to anchor off 
 Mount Vernon, a party of marines was 
 sent ashore to make a levy (with a threat 
 of destruction if resisted) upon Washing 
 ton s estate; when Mr. Lund Washington, 
 who, in the general s absence, acted as his 
 agent, went on board the frigate with a 
 supply of provisions, conciliated the com 
 mander, and saved the property. When 
 General Washington heard of the trans 
 action, he sternly rebuked his kinsman 
 Lund for making terms "with a parcel of 
 plundering scoundrels," and declared, in 
 his letter to him, " It would have been a 
 less painful circumstance to me, to have 
 heard that, in consequence of your non- 
 compliance with their request, they had 
 burnt my house and laid rny plantation 
 
 m ruins. 
 
846 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 Way 13, 
 
 In consequence of the death 
 of General Phillips, three days 
 after his arrival at Petersburg, Arnold 
 again succeeded to the chief command of 
 
 o 
 
 the enemy s forces in Virginia.* 
 
 Lord Cormvallis, although his march 
 was a long and labrious one from North 
 Carolina, succeeded in completing it al 
 most without opposition, and in less than 
 a month. His journey had been greatly 
 facilitated by two boats mounted on car 
 riages, which were carried along with the 
 baggage of the army. His lordship, on 
 marching into Petersburg, was in 
 a state of high exultation. His 
 anxiety for the safety of the royal forces 
 in South Carolina was relieved by the in 
 telligence of Lord Rawdon s successful re 
 sistance to General Greene; and now r that 
 he had succeeded in forming a junction, 
 he believed his army sufficiently strong 
 to secure him the possession of Virginia. 
 Of the opposition of Lafayette and his 
 force he spoke with contempt. " The boy 
 can not escape me," wrote the earl in his 
 despatch to the British government. 
 
 Cornwallis, relieving Arnold (who re 
 turned to New York) of his command, 
 with his usual promptitude, delayed but 
 a few days at Petersburg, and then set out 
 in pursuit of the young marquis. Cros 
 sing James river, he entered Richmond, 
 which Lafayette, with his inferi 
 or force, was obliged to evacuate. 
 The earl now directed his march through 
 
 May 27 
 
 * It is said that, while on this expedition, Arnold in 
 quired of an American captain, whom he had taken prison 
 er, what the Americans would do with him, if he should 
 fall into their hands. The officer replied that they would 
 cut off his lame leg. and hury it with the honors of war, 
 and hang the remainder of his hody on a gibbet. 
 
 Hanover county, closely watched by his 
 youthful antagonist, though at a guarded 
 distance. While the two generals were 
 on the same side of James river, Cornwal 
 lis formed a plan for taking the young 
 Frenchman by surprise, but was diverted 
 from his intention by an American whom 
 Lafayette had sent into the British camp 
 as a spy, to obtain intelligence. Gordon 
 tells the story : 
 
 " The marquis was very desirous of ob 
 taining full intelligence concerning his 
 lordship; and concluded upon prevailing, 
 if possible, upon one Charles (generally 
 called Charley) Morgan, a Jersey soldier, 
 of whom he had entertained a favorable 
 opinion, to turn deserter, and go over to 
 the British army, in order to his execu 
 ting the business of a spy more effectu 
 ally. Charley was sent for, and agreed 
 to undertake the hazardous employ; but 
 insisted that, in case he should be discov 
 ered and hanged, the marquis, to secure 
 his reputation, should have it inserted in 
 the Jersey paper that he was sent upon 
 the service by his commander. 
 
 " Charley deserted, and, when he had 
 reached the royal army, was carried be 
 fore his lordship, who inquired into the 
 reason of his deserting, and received for 
 answer I have been, my lord, with the 
 American army from the beginning, and 
 while under General Washington was sat 
 isfied; but, being put under a Frenchman, 
 I do not like it, and have left the service. 
 His lordship commended and rewarded 
 his conduct. Charley was very diligent 
 of his military duty, and was not in the 
 least suspected, but at the same time care 
 fully observed all that passed. One day, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 CORNWALLIS AND CHARLEY MORGAN. 
 
 847 
 
 while on particular duty with his com 
 rades, Cornwallis, in close conversation 
 with some officers, called Charley to him, 
 and said, How long will it take the mar 
 quis to cross James river? Charley paused 
 a moment and answered, l Three hours, 
 my lord. His lordship exclaimed, Three 
 hours ! why, it will take three days. 
 f No, my lord, said -Charley; the marquis 
 has so many boats, and each boat will car 
 ry so many men. If your lordship will 
 be at the trouble of calculating, you will 
 find he can cross in three hours. His 
 lordship turned to the officers, and in the 
 hearing of Charley remarked/ The scheme 
 will not do. 
 
 " Charley concluded that this was the 
 moment for his returning to the marquis. 
 He as soon as possible plied his comrades 
 with grog till they were well warmed, and 
 then opened his masked battery. Pie com 
 plained of the wants that prevailed in the 
 British camp, commended the supplies 
 with which the Americans abounded, ex 
 pressed his inclination to return, and then 
 asked, What say you, will you go with 
 me ? They agreed. It was left with him 
 to manage as to the sentries. To the first 
 he offered, in a very friendly manner, the 
 taking of a draught out of his canteen. 
 While the fellow was drinking, Charley 
 secured his arms, and then proposed his 
 deserting with them, to which he consent 
 ed through necessity. The second was 
 served in like manner. Charley Morgan, 
 by his management, carried off seven de 
 serters with him. When he had reached 
 the American army, and was brought to 
 headquarters, the marquis, upon seeing 
 him, cried out, Ha ! Charley, are you got 
 
 back? Yes, and please your excellency, 
 and have brought seven more with me, 
 was the answer. When Charley had re 
 lated the reason of his returning, and the 
 observations he had made, the marquis 
 offered him money ; but he declined ac 
 cepting it, and only desired to have his 
 gun again. The marquis then proposed 
 to promote him to the rank of a corporal 
 or a sergeant. To this Morgan replied : 
 I will not have any promotion. I have 
 abilities for a common soldier, and have 
 a good character ; should I be promoted, 
 my abilities may not answer, and I may 
 lose my character. He, however, nobly 
 requested for his fellow-soldiers, who were 
 not so well supplied with shoes, stockings, 
 and clothing, as himself, that the marquis 
 would promise to do what he could to re 
 lieve their distresses, which he easily ob 
 tained." 
 
 Cornwallis strove in vain to force the 
 young marquis to action, who, under the 
 teachings and example of Washington, 
 had learned to repress his youthful ardor, 
 and was now prudently carrying out a 
 cautious system of tactics. Lafayette s 
 force, moreover, was small ; and, before 
 attempting any offensive operations, he 
 desired to unite with General Wayne, who, 
 sent by Washington, was now on his way 
 with eight hundred troops of the Penn 
 sylvania line, to form a junction with the 
 southern army. The whole force of the 
 marquis hardly amounted to three thou 
 sand men, of whom two thirds were mi 
 litia, 
 
 Lord Cornwallis, on the contrary, rein 
 forced by a detachment of troops from 
 New York, now led an army of four thou 
 
848 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 sand regulars, of whom eight hundred 
 were cavalry, and many of them mounted 
 on the choicest horses from the stables 
 of the rich Virginia planters. Tarle ton s 
 troopers were never before in such fine 
 
 condition for service, and that renowned 
 colonel was ready to make a dash here, 
 there, and everywhere, against the con 
 tumacious " rebels," at the quick bidding 
 of his prompt commander. 
 
 CHAPTER C. 
 
 Colonel Tarle ton in Full Activity. Beating up the Governor. Pouncing upon the Assembly. Bare Escape of Jefferson. 
 Respect for Literature. A sup of Good Wine. Destruction of Stores. Junction with Colonel Simcoe. Steuben 
 deluded. Lafayette reinforced. "The Boy" not easily caught. Increased respect for the Marquis. Lord Cornwal- 
 li-s retreats to Portsmouth. A Drawn Battle. Stratagem of Corn wall is. Impetuosity of General Wayne. Success of 
 his Lordship. Losses. Alarm of Sir Henry Clinton. Orders and Counter-Orders. Lafayette in Credit. Scheme of 
 General Greene. Its Dangers. Cornwallis in Straits. Greene before Camden. Tory Information. Camden unas 
 sailable. Greene strives to provoke Earl Rawdon to Battle. Lee and Marion. A Fighting-Pen.- Mayham s Tower. 
 The Enemy forced to capitulate. His Lordship resolved on an engagement. The Americans at Hobkirk s Hill 
 They are reinforced and supplied. Battle of Hobkirk s Hill. The Order of Battle. The Struggle. Gunby s Veter 
 ans. An Error. Victory of the British. The Pursuit checked. The Losses. 
 
 1781, 
 
 LORD CORNWALLIS found active ser 
 
 vice for the bold Colonel Tarleton. 
 He was detached, with one hundred and 
 eighty of his dragoons and seventy mount 
 ed infantry, to beat up Governor Jeffer 
 son and the members of the state assem 
 bly, who had removed from Richmond to 
 Charloltesvile, to be out of harm s way. 
 Tarleton and his men, with their Virginia 
 racehorses, made a rapid stride across the 
 country from the capital ; destroyed a 
 quantity of supplies for the American ar 
 my on the way ; dashed through the Ri- 
 vanna, a branch of James river, that wash 
 es the ibot of the hill on which Charlottes- 
 ville stands ; dispersed a militia-guard on 
 the opposite bank ; spurred up the hill 
 into the town, and suddenly pounced up 
 on the assembly. Seven only of the mem 
 bers, however, were captured, the rest hav 
 ing made their escape on fresh horses, 
 
 which Tarleton s cavalry, blown by their 
 hard day s run, could not overtake. Gov 
 ernor Jefferson had hardly been gone ten 
 minutes, when some of Tarleton s men 
 entered the dwelling from which he had 
 made his escape on a fleet horse, by a 
 narrow lane leading across the country 
 from the rear of his house at Monticello. 
 The books and papers of the governor 
 were not harmed, but the thirsty troop 
 ers made free with his wine. After de 
 stroying one thousand new firelocks, four 
 hundred barrels of gunpowder, a quantity 
 of military stores, and many hogsheads of 
 tobacco, Tarleton quitted Charlottesville, 
 and led his force down the river, to join 
 Colonel Simcoe, who had been detached 
 with five hundred infantry to destroy the 
 military stores at the Point of York, fifty 
 miles above Richmond, where the Rivan- 
 na and the Fluvanna join their waters. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] CORNWALLIS RETIRES TO THE SEABOARD. 
 
 Baron Steuben, however, was on the 
 alert; and when the British arrived on 
 one side of the stream, they found that 
 he had moved the stores and all his force 
 but a small guard to the other. Simcoe, 
 notwithstanding, who was as cunning as 
 a fox, by extending his encampment, suc 
 ceeded in giving the veteran Steuben the 
 impression that the whole British army 
 was before him. The baron, thus deluded, 
 felt compelled to fly during the following 
 night, and in such haste and confusion, 
 that he left behind him his arms and mil 
 itary stores. A small patrol, however, re 
 mained to watch the enemy; but the next 
 morning a detachment of Simcoe s force 
 crossed the river in canoes, and, dispersing 
 the patrol, destroyed the stores. 
 
 Steuben now hastened to join Lafay 
 ette, who was on a rapid march to meet 
 General Wayne. The junction 
 with Wayne and Steuben being 
 effected, in the valley of the Rappahan- 
 nock, the marquis was enabled to turn 
 and face the enemy. Lord Cornwallis 
 had succeeded in getting between him 
 and a large deposit of military stores at 
 Albemarle Old courthouse, at which his 
 lordship was now aiming. The marquis, 
 however, was able to steal a march upon 
 his antagonist by taking a cross-road, and 
 strongly posted himself at the place sev 
 eral hours before the earl made his ap 
 pearance. Cornwallis, finding that "the 
 boy" was not so easily caught, began to 
 entertain a greater respect for his youth 
 ful adversary. He now evinced his in 
 creased good opinion of him by declining 
 to accept his challenge to battle, and re 
 treated (while followed by Lafayette) to 
 
 107 
 
 June 7. 
 
 June 23, 
 
 Richmond, and subsequently down the 
 peninsula, across the Chickaho 
 miny, until he arrived at Wil- 
 liamsburg. Here his lordship, four days 
 afterward, received a despatch from Sir 
 Henry Clinton, with orders to take post 
 near the seashore, and to send a portion 
 of his troops to New York, as there was 
 great alarm felt by the British command- 
 er-in-chief at the discovery that Washing 
 ton, together with Count de Rochambeau 
 and the French fleet, designed a joint at 
 tack upon that city. 
 
 Followed so closely as he was by the 
 young marquis, whose force now num 
 bered about four thousand men, Cornwal 
 lis felt that he could not prudently re 
 main at Williamsburg, with a diminished 
 force, and he consequently determined 
 to seek the cover of Portsmouth, protect 
 ed by the fleet and fortifications. While 
 preparing to move, he sent out Colonel 
 Sirncoe and his rangers to destroy some 
 stores on the Chickahominy river, and to 
 drive in the cattle from the neighboring 
 plantations. Lafayette resolved to inter 
 cept them, and for that purpose detached 
 a skirmishing-party under the command 
 of Lieutenant-Colonel Butler and Major 
 M Pherson. A struggle ensued, in which 
 both parties fought spiritedly, but with 
 such equal results, that neither could just 
 ly claim the victory. 
 
 Having completed their preparations 
 for departure, the British now inarched 
 
 from Williamsburg to the ford 
 
 T July 4, 
 
 at old Jamestown, across James 
 
 river. Here Cornwallis cunningly made 
 a feint of passing over his whole army ; 
 while, with a great show of bustle, his 
 
850 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 July 6, 
 
 lordship merely sent across a vanguard. 
 On the following day the wheel-carriages 
 were transported, and on the 6th the bat- 
 horses and baggage were all passed over. 
 The object of the earl was, to deceive 
 Lafayette, who had now followed within 
 nine miles, and was watching the oppor 
 tunity to fall upon the British rear-guard 
 after the main body had crossed. To 
 give further efficacy to the stratagem, 
 Tarleton instructed one of his dragoons 
 and a negro to pretend to be deserters, 
 and, throwing themselves in the way of 
 the American sentinels, to give out that 
 the main body of the British army had 
 passed the river. 
 
 The stratagem was successful. 
 General Wayne and his force of 
 eight hundred Pennsylvanians were de 
 spatched in advance, to make the first at 
 tack, while Lafayette held back in reserve 
 to sustain them. As the Americans came 
 up, the British pickets were ordered to 
 allow themselves to be driven in, in or 
 der to further still more the deception. 
 Wayne continued to push on with his 
 usual impetuosity, until he found himself 
 confronted by the whole British army ! 
 Even now, with reckless valor, he ordered 
 his men to charge, and was soon engaged 
 in a desperate encounter with an over 
 whelming force. Lafayette, now discov 
 ering Wayne s danger, rode up and or 
 dered him to retire, which he did in tol 
 erable order, under cover of the militia, 
 though he was obliged to leave his can 
 non behind him. Night was now closing, 
 and the British commander did not pur 
 sue. The conflict, though brief, had been 
 bloody. The English lost five officers and 
 
 seventy-five privates. The American loss 
 in killed, wounded, and prisoners, amount 
 ed to one hundred and eighteen in all, in 
 cluding ten officers. 
 
 On the same evening, Cornwallis, hav 
 ing called in all his detachments, passed 
 
 over to Jamestown island. A few 
 
 , P , , , , T July 12. 
 
 days afterward, tie crossed James 
 
 river with his whole force, and proceeded 
 leisurely by land toward the seaboard. 
 After a march of a little over two weeks, 
 his lordship arrived at Portsmouth, oppo 
 site Norfolk, where he embarked 
 the portion of his troops which 
 Sir Henry Clinton, in his fears for New 
 York, had called for. Before the trans 
 ports had set sail, however, a counter-or 
 der was received, as Sir Henry found that 
 New York was no longer in danger, since 
 Washington and his French allies had 
 changed their plans. 
 
 Lafayette, after the struggle, retired 
 up James river to Green springs, where 
 he halted to refresh his troops and await 
 events. In the meantime, he congratu 
 lated himself with the reflection that his 
 Virginia campaign had not been inglori 
 ous, as he had succeeded in inflicting upon 
 " his lordship the disgrace of a retreat." 
 lie did not fail, however, to acknowledge 
 that Washington s tactics, in drawing the 
 attention of the enemy to New York, and 
 thus weakening Earl Cornwallis, had been 
 more effective than his own military ma 
 noeuvres. The young marquis, neverthe 
 less, earned great credit for the prudence 
 (hardly to be expected from so ardent a 
 youth) with which he had conducted the 
 campaign. Moreover, in consideration of 
 the great military talents which he had 
 
.] DEVASTATIONS. MURDER OF COLONEL GREENE. 
 
 851 
 
 displayed during this short campaign in 
 Yinnnia, Kino; Louis XYI. commanded 
 
 o o 
 
 the French minister of war to express to 
 the marquis his approbation, and assure 
 him that he should he raised to the rank 
 of a field-marshal of France as soon as the 
 American war should terminate. 
 
 The whole British force in Yirginia at 
 this time amounted to about seven thou 
 sand men. In the bold and rapid march 
 of Cornwnllis into the state from North 
 Carolina, which we have detailed, a vast 
 amount of public and private property 
 was laid waste. The growing crops were 
 destroyed upon the ground, the barns 
 were burned, and all the fences and land 
 marks of the plantations were scattered 
 to the winds. It is estimated that in the 
 course of the several invasions of Collier, 
 Leslie, Arnold, Phillips, and Cornwallis, 
 about thirty thousand slaves were carried 
 off from Yirginia, and property destroyed 
 to the amount of fifteen millions of dol 
 lars ! Cornwallis suffered dwelling-houses 
 to be plundered of everything; and it was 
 well known that his lordship s table was 
 furnished with plate thus obtained from 
 private families. His march was more 
 frequently that of a marauder than of an 
 honorable general. 
 
 While these operations were in prog 
 ress at the South, Washington was com 
 pelled to remain comparatively inactive, 
 so far as military movements were con 
 cerned, because of the weakness of his 
 army. According to the resolves of Con 
 gress, there was to have been a little more 
 than thirty-seven thousand men under 
 
 */ 
 
 arms at the beginning of the year 1781 ; 
 yet, in May, Washington s whole force in 
 
 camp, on the Hudson, amounted to only 
 a little more than four thousand effective 
 men ! 
 
 At that time, clouds of danger appeared 
 upon the northern frontier, and among 
 the Six Nations; and Colonel Delancey 
 and other tory leaders were making fierce 
 forays upon American outposts in West- 
 chester county, New York. In one of 
 these, Colonel Christopher Greene, the he 
 roic follower of Arnold through the wil 
 derness of Maine, the brave soldier at Que 
 bec, the admirable defender of Fort Mer 
 cer, on the Delaware, and the humane 
 friend of his opponent, the dying Count 
 Donop, was barbarously murdered, with 
 several of his comrades, by a portion of 
 Delancey s corps. Colonel Greene was 
 beloved by Washington, and this coward 
 ly assassination aroused the chief s hot 
 test indignation. Greene was carried to 
 headquarters, and interred with military 
 honors ; and Washington would have de 
 spatched a sufficient force to chastise the 
 Westchester marauders, had not his atten 
 tion at this time been called to more im 
 portant concerns.* 
 
 Let us now turn our attention to the 
 events transpiring in the far South. Du 
 ring the operations of the contending ar 
 mies in North Carolina, the republicans 
 in South Carolina were everj^where gath 
 ering in arms. The absence of Cornwal 
 lis had withdrawn from the state that su 
 perior body by which he had held it in 
 subjection. Pickens, with his brigade, was 
 operating between Ninety-Six and Augus 
 ta; and Lee, with his legion, and a por 
 tion of the second Maryland regiment, was 
 
 * Lossintr. 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 now advancing to co-operate with Gen 
 eral Marion on the San tee. 
 
 General Sumter, though not yet fully 
 recovered of his wounds received at Black- 
 stock s, had drawn his men to a head, and 
 had penetrated to the Congaree, which he 
 crossed earty in February, and appeared 
 before Fort Granby. Such was the vigor 
 with which he pressed the fort, that his 
 marksmen, mounted upon a temporary 
 structure of rails, had reduced the garri 
 son to the last straits, when it was relieved 
 by the unexpected approach of succor, un 
 der Lord Rawdon, who appeared on the 
 opposite bank of the river. 
 
 Unable to contend with the superior 
 force of the British, Sumter made a sud 
 den retreat; and, two days after, he cap 
 tured an escort of British regulars, going 
 from Charleston to Camden with stores, 
 in wagons, which yielded a booty equally 
 necessary to both parties. Thirteen of 
 the British were slain, and sixty-six made 
 prisoners. The wagons, containing a pro 
 fusion of provisions, clothing, arms, and 
 ammunition, fell into the hands of the 
 victors. 
 
 Proceeding with his accustomed rapidi 
 ty, Sumter swam the Santee river, with 
 three hundred men, and appeared next 
 before Fort Watson. From this point he 
 was again driven by Lord Rawdon, who 
 inarched to its relief. He then retired to 
 the swamps on Black river, where he re 
 mained for awhile to recruit, though not 
 inactive. 
 
 Emerging from this retreat, the parti 
 san general was attacked, near Camden, 
 by Major Fraser, at the head of a consid 
 erable force of regulars and tory militia ; 
 
 but the major was defeated, after a severe 
 handling, in which twenty of his follow 
 ers were slain. After this event, Sumter 
 retired to the borders of North Carolina, 
 where he contrived to increase his force 
 to three small regiments of state troops. 
 His return, with that of the continental 
 army, renewed the war in South Carolina 
 with more regularity and vigor. 
 
 Marion had been as busy in his fast 
 nesses as his great contemporary Sumter ; 
 and while General Greene and the conti 
 nentals gave full employment to the reg 
 ular British army, his little brigade had 
 met the loyalists in a spirit not unlike 
 their own. Their savage murders, wan 
 ton excesses, and bitter cruelties their 
 house-breaking and house-burning, their 
 blasphemies, impieties, and horrors had 
 put them completely out of the pale of 
 military civilization. "No quarter to the 
 torics /" became the cry of the brigade, 
 when going into battle ; and with this 
 spirit, and guided by the skill and intelli 
 gence of their leader, the career of the 
 partisans was as sleepless and rapid as 
 its temper was now unsparing and vin 
 dictive. To conquer, merely, was not to 
 complete the purpose for which Marion s 
 men fought to destroy was their object 
 also; and so resolute had they shown 
 themselves, and so active and vigilant, 
 that to root them out was as difficult as 
 it had become desirable. 
 
 A new and well-concerted attempt to 
 annihilate this body was now arranged be 
 tween Colonels Watson and Doyle. The 
 former was to move down from Camden, 
 along the Santee ; and the latter was to 
 cross Lynch s creek, and follow its course 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 MARION AND COLONEL WATSON. 
 
 853 
 
 on the eastern bank. They were to unite 
 their forces near Snow s island, which was 
 the favorite hiding-place of the "brigade." 
 
 Marion heard first of the approach of 
 Watson, and went out with all his force 
 to meet him. At Taucaw swamp, nearly 
 opposite to the month of the present San- 
 tee canal, he laid an ambush for his ene 
 my, which he placed under the command 
 of Colonel Ilorry. At this time, he had 
 but a few rounds of ammunition for each 
 man. His orders to Horry were, to give 
 two fires and retreat. 
 
 A second ambush was placed in a con 
 tiguous situation, which promised certain 
 advantages. This was a party of cavalry, 
 under the command of Captain Conyers. 
 Horry s ambuscade gave its fires with 
 great effect, but was compelled to retire. 
 Watson, having made good his passage 
 of the swamp, sent a detachment of cav 
 alry, under Major Harrison, in pursuit of 
 Ilorry. This party was encountered by 
 Conyers, who slew Harrison with his own 
 hand. His detachment was dispersed, af 
 ter suffering severe loss from the charge 
 of Conyers. 
 
 Marion, too feeble to assail his oppo 
 nent openly, continued in this way to em 
 barrass his progress and weaken his force, 
 until they had reached nearly to the low 
 er bridge on Black river, seven miles be 
 low King s tree. Here Watson made a 
 feint of taking the road to Georgetown. 
 Too weak to detach a party to the bridge, 
 Marion took an advantageous position on 
 that road. 
 
 Suddenly wheeling, Watson changed 
 his course, and gained possession of the 
 bridge on the western side. This gave 
 
 him the opening to a very important pass, 
 leading into the heart of Williamsburg 
 district and to Snow s island. The river, 
 on the west, runs under a high bluff; the 
 grounds on the east side are low, and the 
 stream, though generally fordable, was at 
 that time swollen by freshets, so as near 
 ly to reach the summit of the opposite 
 shore. This prospect seemed to appal the 
 British colonel. While he hesitated, the 
 less wary partisan led the way for his 
 troop, plunged in, and, safely reaching the 
 opposite bank, marched forward to occu 
 py the eastern end of the bridge. Ma 
 rion now detached Major James, with for 
 ty musketeers, and thirty riflemen, under 
 M Cottry, to burn the bridge. 
 
 The riflemen were posted to advan 
 tage, and under cover, on the river-bank. 
 The attempt of the musketeers to burn 
 the bridge drew upon them the fire of 
 Watson s artillery. Against this Marion 
 had provided, and the artillerists of the 
 enemy were picked off by M Cottry s ri 
 fles as fast as they approached to apply 
 their matches to the gun. The bridge 
 was fired and consumed in the face of 
 the enemy, who, baffled and harassed at 
 all points, turned from the pursuit of the 
 wary partisan, and proceeded by forced 
 marches to Georgetown. 
 
 But the British commander was not 
 suffered to leave behind him the foe whom 
 his pursuit had seemed only to awaken. 
 Marion hung upon his progress now up 
 on his flanks, now in front, and now in the 
 rear while his rifles exacted heavy toll 
 from the enemy at every mile in their 
 journey. Watson,atlast,reached George 
 town in safety j but the implacable rifle- 
 
854 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n 
 
 men had followed his flying footsteps till 
 the latest moment. Never had man been 
 more harassed ; and the complaint of the 
 British colonel, that Marion would not 
 "fight like a Christian and a gentleman? has 
 passed, from its ludicrous solemnity, into 
 a proverbial phrase of merriment in the 
 South. 
 
 Colonel Doyle, the coadjutor of Wat 
 son, was encountered in like manner, and 
 with similar results. A single conflict 
 drove him back to Camden, with a con 
 siderable loss in men and a greater loss 
 in baggage. 
 
 This affair was followed, on the part of 
 the brigade, by a sharp rencontre with a 
 body of tories. These were routed, and 
 their captain slain. A nephew of Marion 
 also fell in the conflict. A second descent 
 which Marion made upon Georgetown, 
 about this time, was more successful than 
 the first. It fell into his hands, but was 
 afterward set on fire by an armed party 
 from a British vessel, and upward of forty 
 houses were reduced to ashes. 
 
 After the return of the command er-in- 
 chief of the southern department into the 
 state from his pursuit of Lord Cornwallis, 
 Marion ceased to act independently; and 
 the exploits of his brigade, no longer act 
 ing by itself, became merged in those of 
 the liberating army.* 
 
 General Greene s resolution to carry 
 the war into South Carolina had not been 
 taken without a consciousness of its haz 
 ards. " The manoeuvre will be critical 
 and dangerous," he wrote to Washington, 
 
 * For many interesting details connected with the guer 
 illa warfare in the Carolinas, during the campaigns of 1780 
 and 1781, we are indebted to Simins s admirable "History 
 of South Carolina," revised edition, 1859. 
 
 " but necessity obliges me to commit my 
 self to chance. The troops will be ex 
 posed to every hardship ; but I shall share 
 it with them." The scheme was bold and 
 full of peril, but its apparent temerity was 
 not without justification. Those active 
 partisans, Sumter, Marion, and Pickens, 
 had, by their successful guerilla warfare, 
 as we have already shown, prepared the 
 way, and Greene knew that he could al 
 ways calculate upon their energetic co 
 operation. It is true, he was turning his 
 back upon a weakened enemy; but Lord 
 Cornwallis was in such a position, that, 
 move as he might, he could hardly win 
 his game. If he followed the American 
 general into South Carolina, Virginia and 
 North Carolina would be relieved from 
 the pressure of British influence; and if 
 he carried the war into the latter states, 
 his possession of the first was endangered. 
 
 General Greene, accordingly, 
 broke up his encampment on the 
 Deep river, in Chatham county, North 
 Carolina, where he had given over the 
 pursuit of the British army, and, after a 
 tedious march for one hundred and thir 
 ty miles through an exhausted and hos 
 
 tile country, at length arrived 
 
 7 
 
 before Oamden. He had hoped 
 
 to take the place by surprise. While he 
 was detained, however, for several days 
 on the banks of the Pedee, for want of 
 boats, the active tory emissaries took care 
 to carry information of his approach to 
 Lord Kawdon at Camden. This is a beau 
 tiful village, situated on a plain covered 
 on the south and east sides by the Wa- 
 teree, and a creek which empties itself 
 into that river. On the western and north- 
 
 April 5, 
 
 April 19, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] MARION AND LEE CAPTURE FORT WATSON. 
 
 855 
 
 ern sides it was guarded by six strong re 
 doubts, and Earl Raw don s garrison num 
 bered about nine hundred choice troops. 
 His lordship, now on the alert, placed 
 Camden in such a posture of defence, that 
 General Greene found it futile to attempt 
 to assault it. He accordingly took post 
 on the Wexhaw road, within half a mile 
 of the British lines, with the hope of pro 
 voking the earl from his stronghold. The 
 
 o o 
 
 challenge, however, was not accepted, and 
 the American general thereupon moved 
 his troops to Hobkirk s hill, a mile and a 
 quarter farther away from Camden. 
 
 On his march from North Carolina, Gen 
 eral Greene had detached Colonel Henry 
 Lee, with his legion, to join Marion, and 
 co-operate with that partisan in an expe 
 dition against the British post of Fort 
 Watson, on the San tee. Lee having, with 
 no little difficulty, succeeded in 
 finding Marion "the Swamp- 
 fox" amid the cover of the morasses of 
 Black river, started out with him on the 
 proposed enterprise. The enemy were 
 posted in a stockade fort, erected on one 
 of the largest of the old Indian mounds 
 which skirt the San tee. It was elevated 
 about forty feet above the level of the 
 plain, and far from any eminence which 
 could command it. Its garrison consisted 
 of about eighty regulars and forty loyal 
 ists, commanded by Lieutenant M Kay of 
 the regular troops. Unprovided as were 
 Marion and Lee with artillery and in- 
 trenching-tools, it was impregnable to the 
 besiegers, who despaired of a successful 
 assault, since the steep sides and strong 
 palisades of the eminence discouraged any 
 attempt to storm it. 
 
 April 14, 
 
 One of the first efforts made to subdue 
 the fort was by cutting off the garrison 
 from Scott s lake, by which it was supplied 
 with water. From this danger M Kay re 
 lieved himself by sinking a well within 
 the stockade. Thus foiled, and without 
 cannon, the besiegers must finally have 
 been baffled, but for one of those ingeni 
 ous devices which are perhaps more read 
 ily found by a primitive than by an edu 
 cated people. 
 
 At a short distance from the fort there 
 grew a small wood, which suggested the 
 proper means of annoyance. From this, 
 Major Mayham, of South Carolina, sug 
 gested that they should "cut down a num 
 ber of suitable trees, and with them erect 
 a large, strong, oblong pen, to be covered 
 on the top with a floor of logs, and pro 
 tected on the side opposite to the fort 
 with a breastwork of light timber." The 
 expedient was adopted, and the "pen" 
 forthwith constructed during the night, 
 within a proper distance of the fort, and 
 dignified with the appellation of "May- 
 ham s tower." This enabled the assail 
 ants to command the fort. At earliest 
 dawn the next morning, a party 
 of riflemen took post in the tow 
 er ; and a detachment of musketeers, un 
 der the cover of the riflemen, advanced to 
 make a lodgment in the enemy s ditch, 
 supported by the infantry of Lee s legion 
 with fixed bayonets. When the light en 
 abled the riflemen from their lofty tower, 
 which overlooked the fort, to single out 
 their victims, a shower of bullets drove 
 the enemy from their works. Lieutenant 
 M Kay, being destitute of artillery, was 
 soon forced to capitulate ; and Marion, 
 
 April 23. 
 
856 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAIJT II. 
 
 pushing his prisoners before him, hurried 
 forward to join Greene. Thus a contri 
 vance which the lion-hearted Richard had 
 used with such effect against the Saracens 
 at the siege of Acre, in the days of the 
 crusades, proved no less effective in the 
 hands of those equally chivalrous modern 
 soldiers, Marion and Lee. 
 
 Cblonel Watson, while on his march to 
 succor the fort of his name, had been re 
 called to Camden by Lord Rawdon, who 
 could ill spare any of his small force, now 
 that he was threatened by the energetic 
 Greene. Lee and Marion were on the 
 watch, and so manoeuvred that they them 
 selves were in a position to form a junc 
 tion with Greene long before Watson 
 could effect one with Rawdon. His lord 
 ship, thus discovering that delay would 
 probably benefit his enemy more than 
 himself, determined to give battle to the 
 American commander. 
 
 Hobkirk s hill, where General Greene 
 had taken post, was about a mile and a 
 half in advance of the British redoubts. 
 It is a narrow sand-ridge, of little eleva 
 tion, which divides the head-springs of 
 two small streams, the one emptying into 
 the Wateree river, the other into Pine- 
 tree creek. 
 
 A deserter having come in durin"- the 
 
 o o 
 
 night, with exact information of 
 the American position on Hob- 
 kirk s hill, and also with intelligence that 
 the expected artillery had not yet arrived 
 in the American camp, the British com 
 mander decided upon immediate action 
 on the coming day. 
 
 Accordingly, at nine o clock the next 
 morning, Lord Rawdon, having left Cam- 
 
 April 24, 
 
 25. 
 
 den in charge of his convalescents, led out 
 his nine hundred men (which was all the 
 effective force he could muster) to the at 
 tack. The American camp was 
 
 1 J il L. xl 
 
 cheered that morning by the ar 
 rival of abundant supplies, and of the ar 
 tillery, upon the absence of which his 
 lordship was so greatly calculating. Pro 
 visions had been scarce, and now being 
 plentifully distributed, most of the troops 
 were busy in cooking or feasting; some 
 were washing their clothes, and others 
 were cleaning their muskets. General 
 Greene himself was breakfasting; and al 
 though, in the well-ordered camp, there 
 were all the usual precautions against 
 surprise, there was no suspicion of the 
 approach of the enemy (who had begun 
 their march at dawn, and silently pushed 
 on toward the American position by a cir 
 cuitous way, under the cover of a swamp- 
 forest), until the British vanguard fell up 
 on the republican pickets. These acted 
 with the utmost coolness, gathering in the 
 videttes, and forming with great deliber 
 ation under Colonel Kirk wood s Delaware 
 command. His position formed the Amer 
 ican advance, and met the first shock of 
 the enemy s charge. Here the conflict 
 was maintained for a while with singular 
 obstinacy ; and this little squad retired 
 slowly, fighting with resolute determina 
 tion, step by step, as they receded before 
 the accumulating pressure of the foe. 
 
 The noise of the firing aroused the en 
 tire American camp. The drums beat to 
 arms, and Greene sprang to his saddle, 
 and rapidly formed his army. The Vir 
 ginia brigade, with General linger at its 
 head, having under him Lieutenant-Colo- 
 
UKV OLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF IIOBKIRK S HILL. 
 
 857 
 
 nels Campbell and Hawes, was posted on 
 the right of the road ; the first regiment, 
 under the former, composing the extreme 
 right. The Maryland brigade, led by Colo 
 nel Otho Williams, seconded by Colonel 
 Gunby and Lieutenant-Colonels Ford and 
 Howard, took the left. The three field- 
 pieces, conducted by Colonel Harrison, 
 were placed in the centre ; and the cav 
 alry, under Colonel Washington, together 
 with two hundred and fifty North Carolina 
 militia, under Colonel Reade, were held 
 back as a reserve. 
 
 LordRawdon advanced with the royal 
 American regiment on his right, the New- 
 York volunteers in his centre, and the 
 sixty-third regiment on his left. His right 
 wing was supported by Robertson s corps, 
 and his left by the volunteers of Ireland. 
 The reserve consisted of the tory regi 
 ment raised in South Carolina, with a few 
 dragoons, who composed all the cavalry. 
 Neither force was large, but Greene s pre 
 ponderated, and the Americans felt con 
 fident of victory. The number of Euro 
 pean troops engaged in this conflict was 
 very small. Most of Rawdon s army was 
 composed of Americans by birth or im 
 migration. The front which he advanced 
 was comparatively small, nearly one half 
 of his troops being in reserve. He had, 
 besides, taken a lesson from the American 
 leaders, and employed flanking-parties of 
 picked tory riflemen, who moved abreast 
 of his wing among the trees, and did much 
 toward deciding the issue of the day. 
 
 "Greene," to use the words of Lee, an 
 historian as well as hero of the southern 
 campaign, " examining attentively the 
 British disposition, discovered the very 
 
 108 
 
 narrow front it presented ; and, gratified 
 as he was with the opportunity, so unex 
 pectedly offered, of completing by one 
 blow his first object, he determined to 
 avail himself of the advantage given by 
 the mode of attack. 
 
 " He directed the lieutenant-colonels 
 Campbell and Ford to turn the enemy s 
 flanks; he ordered the centre regiments 
 to advance upon him, ascending the height 
 (Hobkirk s hill, upon which Greene was 
 posted); and detached Lieutenant-Colo 
 nel Washington with his cavalry to gain 
 his rear. Rawdon no sooner cast his eyes 
 on our disposition, than he perceived the 
 danger to which his unequal front ex 
 posed him, and, bringing up the volun 
 teers of Ireland into line, he remedied the 
 defect seized by Greene in time to avert 
 the expected consequences. 
 
 " The battle opened from right to left 
 with a vigor which promised a keen and 
 sanguinary contest; but the superiority 
 of our fire, augmented by that of our well- 
 served artillery, must have borne down 
 all opposition, had the American line 
 maintained itself with becoming firmness. 
 On the right, Huger evidently gained 
 ground; Washington was carrying every 
 thing before him in the rear; and Lieu 
 tenant-Colonel Hawes, with fixed bayo 
 nets, conformable to order, was descend 
 ing the hill, ready to fall upon the New- 
 York volunteers. 
 
 "In this flattering moment, the veteran 
 regiment of Gunby, having first joined in 
 the fire, in violation of orders, paused, its 
 right falling back. Gunby unfortunately 
 directed the disordered battalion to rally 
 by retiring to its right company. Retro- 
 
853 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 grade being the consequence of this order, 
 the British line, giving a shout, pressed 
 forward with redoubled ardor; and the 
 regiment of Gunby, considered as the bul 
 wark of the army, never recovered from 
 the panic with \\ hich it was unaccounta 
 bly seized." 
 
 In forming his line, before the engage 
 ment, Greene, conjecturing that the ene 
 my knew nothing of his having artillery, 
 had closed the two centre regiments, so 
 that it was completely masked. "The 
 effect may well be imagined," observes 
 Simms, " when these two regiments, sud 
 denly retiring from the centre, left (hem 
 free to vomit their showers of grape upon 
 the dense ranks of the enemy preparing 
 for the charge. 
 
 " The confusion and dismay were con 
 spicuous. The British squadrons sank, 
 and wheeled, and fled, beneath the terri 
 ble discharge ; and nothing more seemed 
 to be necessary than to give the command 
 to close upon their flanks with the regi 
 ments right and left, and cut them off 
 from escape. The order was given : Let 
 the cavalry make for their rear ; Colonel 
 Campbell will wheel upon their left; Colo 
 nel Ford upon their right; the whole cen 
 tre will charge charge with trailed arms ! 
 
 "Such were the commands of Greene, 
 which his aids rushed to convey to the 
 several subordinate officers. The roll of 
 the drums announced their tenor; and 
 Washington, at the head of his cavalry, 
 disappeared among the trees which lay 
 between his troop and the rear of the 
 enemy. 
 
 "The American general already be 
 lieved his victory to be secure. But he 
 
 had no ordinary adversary in Rawdon. 
 With the quickness of instinct, this com 
 mander threw out his supporting columns ; 
 and the Americans, but a moment before 
 in the fullest conviction that they had out 
 flanked the enemy, were themselves out 
 flanked. Their wings were enfiladed and 
 their rear threatened. 
 
 "At this crisis, when everything de 
 pended upon the greatest coolness, and a 
 composure which might look undaunted 
 upon the scene, the first Maryland regi 
 ment, by excellence esteemed, in the lan 
 guage of Roman eulogium, the tenth legion 
 of the American army that band to 
 which all eyes were turned for example ; 
 which had conquered the British with 
 their own weapon, the bayonet, at the 
 noble passage of valor at the Cowpens ; 
 which alone had fought half of the battle 
 at Guilford, and obtained more than half 
 of the triumph of that no less bloody day 
 now unaccountably shrank away from 
 the issue, in a panic which could not be 
 overcome ! 
 
 "Greene, at this moment, was leading 
 on the Virginia regiment of Campbell in 
 person, on the extreme right, when he 
 was called away by the confusion of the 
 centre. Vainly, by voice and gesture, did 
 he seek to restore their confidence, and 
 bring them once more into the action. 
 They heard, and halted; but the day was 
 already lost. They were already at the 
 bottom of the hill, and the cheers and 
 clamors of the enemy now commanded 
 his attention in another quarter. Urging 
 his horse up the eminence, he saw for the 
 first time the utmost extent ot his mis 
 fortune. But a single regiment remained 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE DEFEAT. EXPLOIT OF COLONEL WASHINGTON". 
 
 859 
 
 entire. His artillery was uncovered on 
 the summit of the hill. To bring his 
 troops off in order, and to save the artil 
 lery, were the only remaining objects; 
 and, amid a shower of bullets, the Ameri 
 can general delivered his commands with 
 composure, to draw off the right and left 
 regiments and form them on that of Gun- 
 by, which was now rallied; while their 
 retreat should be covered by the second 
 Virginia. 
 
 " This order, well executed, left to 
 Greene the choice of deliberate retreat 
 or a renewal of the battle. During its 
 execution, the main efforts of the British 
 were to secure possession of the artillery. 
 Horse and foot were ascending the hill, 
 and the matrosses were about to fly, 
 when the American general applied his 
 own hand to the drag-ropes. This ex 
 ample was not to be withstood. A little 
 band rallied to their rescue, bearing their 
 loaded muskets in one hand while apply 
 ing the other to the ropes. The fight 
 was renewed in this endeavor. 
 
 " A British corps appeared on the hill, 
 moving to the charge. Dropping the 
 ropes, the little troop, forming in the rear 
 of the artillery, met them with a fire 
 which, repeated with deliberate resolu 
 tion until escape was impossible, was ter 
 ribly destructive. Thrice was the attempt 
 renewed, and with the same effect. The 
 assailants were driven off with loss, until 
 an overpowering force of infantry and ri 
 flemen came to their assistance, and every 
 man of this gallant little band, but forty- 
 five in number, was either killed or ta 
 ken. The artillery now seemed lost ; but 
 at this crisis, Colonel Washington charged 
 
 in upon the road, and put an end to the 
 strife around it. 
 
 " This officer, in addition to the rescue 
 of the artillery, captured more than two 
 hundred prisoners. His humanity is al 
 leged by the British to have been detri 
 mental to his objects. A severe military 
 judgment insists that he should have cut 
 down instead of making captives." This 
 would have been the course of the mer 
 ciless Tarleton under like circumstances. 
 Washington s prisoners encumbered his 
 movements, and the time lost in taking- 
 
 7 O 
 
 them might have been of lasting benefit 
 if it had been employed unsparingly upon 
 the British rear. 
 
 Lord Rawdon was not in a condition 
 to pursue the Americans far. The latter 
 halted at a distance of two miles, in order 
 to recover stragglers and take re 
 freshment. At noon, the retreat 
 was resumed, and the army finally en 
 camped at Saunders s creek, about four 
 miles from the scene of action, to which 
 place Colonel Washington was ordered 
 back to reconnoitre. As he proceeded in 
 obedience to this command, he was told 
 that Earl Rawdon had returned to Cam- 
 den, leaving Captain Coffin with his cav 
 alry and a body of mounted infantry in 
 charge of the field of battle. 
 
 This intelligence suggested to Colonel 
 Washington the prospect of anew achieve 
 ment. Retiring with his cavalry into a 
 thicket on the roadside, he pushed for 
 ward a small detachment, with orders to 
 approach under covert till within a short 
 distance of the enemy s position. His 
 stratagem produced the desired effect : 
 Coffin s whole troop pursued, and fell into 
 
 April 25. 
 
860 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAET II. 
 
 the ambuscade. Washington rose from 
 liis hiding-place as they reached it, and 
 the entire party were either cut to pieces 
 or compelled to save themselves by flight. 
 The field of Ilobkirk thus actually re 
 mained in possession of the Americans.* 
 The loss of the two armies in the main 
 battle was about equal, although that of 
 the British, by reason of the field-pieces 
 which the Americans brought into the 
 
 action, was somewhat greater ; it amount 
 ed to nearly three hundred each. Two 
 .of the bravest of the American officers, 
 Colonel Ford and Captain Beattie, were 
 killed in the beginning of the fight, and 
 their fall was a principal cause of the un 
 fortunate disorder which followed among 
 the troops. The British escaped without 
 the death of a single officer of note, but 
 six were taken prisoners. 
 
 CHAPTER CI. 
 
 General Greene disappointed, but not discouraged. Junction of Colonel Watson with Lord Rawdon. Greene retires.-- 
 Hot pursuit by Rawdon. His Lordship checked. Partisan warfare again. Back to the Mountains. A Gloomy In 
 terview. Good News Rawdon evacuates Camden. Its Destruction. Miserable Fate of the Loyalist Inhabitants. 
 Vigor of the Partisan Leaders. Fall of Posts. Lee and Pickens take Fort Griesson. Desperate Struggle. Honor 
 able Capitulation. Death of Griesson. Reward offered. Greene at Ninety-Six. New- York Loyalists. Judicious 
 Defences. Kosciusko s Parallels. The Star- Fort. A Sally. Its Success. Greene more cautious. Arrival of Lee. 
 The Summons to surrender. Defiant Answer of Cruger. Fire opened. Picking off the Gunners. Night-Sal 
 lies. Desperate Position of the Enemy. Naked Negroes. Flaming Arrows. Attempts to tire. Renewed Hope. 
 A Despatch from Earl Rawdon. His Lordship to the Rescue. Three Alternatives. Storming. The Assault. The 
 Ever-ready Cruger. Desperate Fighting. Greene withdraws from Ninety-Six. 
 
 1781. 
 
 GENERAL GREENE, after his unex 
 pected defeat at Hobkirk s hill, re 
 tired sadly disappointed, though not dis 
 couraged. Ever ready to act as the oc 
 casion demanded, he had hardly gathered 
 his scattered troops, when he prepared to 
 thwart the manoeuvres of his young and 
 spirited antagonist, and to deprive him of 
 the benefits of his victory. 
 
 Another disappointment soon came to 
 the American general, however, in news 
 of the successful junction of Colonel Wat 
 son and his force with Lord Rawdon, at 
 Camden. This union had been effected 
 notwithstanding the vigilance of Marion, 
 
 * Simins. 
 
 Lee, and Sumter, who were beating the 
 country around, and of Greene himself, 
 who, from his camp on the Wateree, was 
 eagerly on the watch. 
 
 Very soon after the battle of Hobkirk, 
 Greene detached a reinforcement to Ma 
 rion on the Nelson s-ferry road ; 
 
 A k A* W * Ma ? 3< 
 
 and he now crossed the Wateree 
 with his main body, and took such posi 
 tions as would enable him to prevent suc 
 cors from going into Camden from that 
 quarter. 
 
 Earl Rawdon, being thus strengthened 
 by Watson and his four hundred men, 
 was emboldened to challenge the Ameri 
 cans to another battle. General Greene, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] LORD RAWDON EVACUATES AND BURNS CAMDEN. 
 
 861 
 
 May 8, 
 
 however, disappointed in not receiving his 
 expected reinforcements from Virginia, 
 a.nd finding his troops fagged and discour 
 aged, thought it more expedient to retire 
 before the enemy. He accord 
 ingly moved several miles far 
 ther into the country. His impetuous 
 young antagonist, nevertheless, seemed 
 determined to provoke an engagement, 
 and, forcing the American pickets, pressed 
 on to strike Greene in his encampment. 
 The earl, however, finding his enemy too 
 firmly posted to be dislodged, prudently 
 withdrew at the last moment. 
 
 The boldly offensive attitude of Lord 
 Rawdon, now that he was reinforced, gave 
 the American commander great anxiety, 
 conscious as he was of the weakness of 
 his own troops. On the evening of the 
 day following his lordship s dar 
 ing demonstration, as the patriot 
 general sat at the table with a map be 
 fore him, Colonel Davie entered. " You 
 see," exclaimed Greene, "that we must 
 again resume the partisan war. Rawdon 
 has now a decided superiority of force. 
 He has pushed us to a sufficient distance 
 to leave him free to act on any object 
 within his reach. He will strike at Lee 
 and Marion, reinforce himself by all the 
 troops that can be spared from the sev 
 eral garrisons, and push me back to the 
 
 mountains You observe our dangerous 
 
 and critical situation. The regular troops 
 are now reduced to a handful, and I am 
 without militia to perform the convoy or 
 detachment service, or any prospect of 
 
 receiving any reinforcement We must 
 
 always calculate on the maxim that your 
 enemy will do what he ought to do. We 
 
 May 9, 
 
 will dispute every inch of ground in the 
 best manner we can ; but Rawdon will 
 push me back to the mountains. Lord 
 Cornwallis will establish a chain of posts 
 along James river; and the southern states, 
 thus cut off", will die like the tail of a snake !" 
 
 After this gloomy interview, Colonel 
 Davie, at the request of Greene, retired 
 to write to some of his friends in Phila 
 delphia, who were members of Congress, 
 and inform them of the imminent danger 
 of the army and its pressing needs. At 
 daylight, the next morning, the colonel, 
 who had been up all night writing his let 
 ters, was summoned to headquarters, when 
 General Greene met him with a beaming 
 face and these encouraging words : " I 
 have sent to inform you that Rawdon is 
 preparing to evacuate Camden ! That 
 place was the key of the enemy s line of 
 posts. They will now all fall, or be evac 
 uated. All will go well. Burn your let 
 ters. I shall march immediately to the 
 Congaree !" 
 
 Lord Rawdon, finding that there was 
 no hope of aid from Cornwallis, of whose 
 march to Virginia he had just received 
 intelligence that his supplies were fail 
 ing daily, and that his force was too small 
 to allow of his detaching any portion of 
 it to strengthen the weaker posts de 
 termined to retire toward Charleston, in 
 order to secure his communication with 
 that city. Cainden was evacu 
 ated, and the jail, mills, and pri 
 vate dwellings of the town, were burned. 
 A great deal of the baggage of the army 
 was also consumed in the flames, that his 
 lordship might move with greater celeri 
 ty. " The British commander," remarks 
 
 May 10, 
 
862 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II. 
 
 Simms, "baffled and disappointed, wreak 
 ed his vengeance upon the town which 
 he had so long garrisoned, but which he 
 felt himself no longer able to maintain. 
 Camden was reduced to ashes, and amid 
 the shrieks of its people, and the * curses, 
 not loud, but deep, of the loyalists whom 
 he could no longer protect, Lord Rawdon 
 prepared to descend the country. The 
 fall of Fort Watson had broken the chain 
 of communication with Charleston, and 
 Marion was even now busy in the leaguer 
 of Fort Motte. Having devastated the 
 country, it no longer yielded support to 
 Rawdon s troops. These the British com 
 mander resolved to save, though by the 
 loss of the post and the confidence of the 
 tories. These miserable people, whose sav 
 age fury had so long hunted their coun 
 trymen with fire and sword, no longer pro 
 tected from their vengeance by the arms 
 of the British, were compelled to abandon 
 their homes and follow the fortunes of the 
 enemy. They dared not await the jus 
 tice of the Americans. Hundreds followed 
 his lordship, scorned and despised by their 
 allies, and hated by their countrymen. 
 Their history may be dismissed in this 
 place. After sharing all the vicissitudes 
 of an army retiring before a pursuing foe, 
 they reached Charleston, and built for 
 themselves a settlement of huts without 
 the lines. This hamlet, by a miserable 
 mockery, was called Rawdontoivn? Here 
 men, women, and children, were crowded 
 together in a wretched condition of pov 
 erty and shame. They had dwelt hap 
 pily on their farms near Camden; and 
 perished in the utmost destitution, utter 
 ly unnoticed and unassisted by those for 
 
 whom they had sacrificed the ties of so 
 ciety and all the first claims of country. 
 The victims equally of disease and want, 
 they died, to use the emphatic language 
 of that time, like rotten sheep, upon the 
 suburbs." 
 
 In the meantime, the American parti 
 san leaders were active. British post 
 after post fell rapidly before them, and 
 completed the recovery of the state to 
 within thirty miles of the* sea. General 
 Greene, concluding, after the evacuation 
 of Camden by Lord Rawdon, that it would 
 be the earl s object to withdraw his posts 
 on the Congaree, and concentrate them 
 below the Santee, despatched expresses 
 to Marion and Sumter to prepare them 
 selves for such an event. He himself, or 
 dering the army to proceed by the Cam 
 den road for the Congaree, took an escort 
 of cavalry and moved down in person 
 toward Fort Motte. 
 
 On reaching M Cord s ferry, Greene re 
 ceived the tidings of the capitulation of 
 Fort Motte. This post lay above the fork 
 on the south side of the Congaree. The 
 works of the British were built around 
 the mansion-house of the lady whose name 
 it bore, and from which, in their savage 
 recklessness of shame, the British officers 
 had expelled her. It was a noble dwel 
 ling, of considerable value, but not of so 
 much worth as to abridge the patriotism 
 of the high-spirited owner. Defended by 
 a strong garrison, under a resolute com 
 mander, the fort promised to baffle for a 
 long time the progress of the besiegers. 
 Under these circumstances, Mrs. Motte, 
 who had been driven for shelter to a neigh 
 boring hovel, produced an Indian bo\v, 
 
RKVOLUTIONAKY.] 
 
 CAPTURE OF BRITISH FORTS. 
 
 863 
 
 May 12, 
 
 which, with a quiver of arrows, she pre 
 sented to the American general. " Take 
 these," she said, " and expel the enemy. 
 These will enable you to fire the house." 
 Her earnest plea that this course might 
 be adopted, prevailed with the reluctant 
 Marion. Combustibles were fastened to 
 the arrows, which were shot into 
 the roof of the dwelling; and the 
 patriotic woman rejoiced in the destruc 
 tion of her property, when it secured the 
 triumph of her countrymen. 
 
 Driven out from their place of shelter, 
 the garrison at Fort Motte was forced to 
 surrender; and the force under Marion 
 was ready for operation in other quarters. 
 A portion of it, under Colonel Lee, was 
 immediately despatched by Greene, as the 
 van of the army, for the reduction of Fort 
 Granby, situated near the present city of 
 Columbia, and at about the centre of the 
 state. 
 
 The fall of Fort Motte increased the 
 panic of the British ; and, two days after 
 that event, they evacuated their 
 post at Nelson s ferry, blew up 
 the defensive works, and destroyed their 
 stores. 
 
 Fort Granby, after a brief conflict, was 
 surrendered, with all its garrison, consist 
 ing of nearly four hundred men. 
 May 15, J 
 
 I he terms oi capitulation granted 
 
 by Colonel Lee were greatly complained 
 of by the Carolinians. These terms gave 
 the enemy the privilege of carrying off 
 their baggage, in which was included an 
 immense quantity of plunder. The ap 
 proach of Lord Rawdon, with his w T hole 
 army, is said to have hastened the opera 
 tions of Lee, and to have led to the lib- 
 
 31 ay 11, 
 
 end concessions which he made to the 
 garrison; but he has incurred the re 
 proach of hastening the capitulation, in 
 order to anticipate the arrival of General 
 Sumter and the main army. The siege 
 had been begun some time previously by 
 Sumter, who had left Colonel Taylor, with 
 a strong party, to maintain his position, 
 while he himself made a sudden descent 
 upon the enemy s post at Orangeburg, on 
 the North Edisto, in which he was thor 
 oughly successful. Sumter himself con 
 ceived that he had suffered injury by the 
 capitulation, in which nothing was gained 
 but the earlier possession of a post which 
 could not have been held many days long 
 er, and must have fallen, without condi 
 tions and with all its spoils, into the hands 
 of the Americans. It was with bitter feel 
 ings that the whig militia beheld the cov 
 ered wagons of the enemy drawn by 
 their own horses, and which they knew 
 to be filled with the plunder of their farms 
 and dwellings driven off before their 
 eyes.* 
 
 On the day after the evacuation of 
 Camden, the garrison at Orange- 
 burg, numbering about one hun 
 dred men, with all their stores and a large 
 supply of provisions, surrendered to Gen 
 eral Sumter, after a spirited assault. A 
 little later, Colonel Lee sent a 
 detachment of his legion, under 
 the command of Major Rudolph, which 
 reduced the British post at Silver Blufls. 
 
 The task of holding Lord Rawdon in 
 check in Charleston was confided to Ma 
 rion and Sumter. In the execution of 
 this duty, they closed in upon him, until 
 
 feiiams. 
 
 May 21. 
 
804 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 he established a line of fortified posts, ex 
 pending from Georgetown, by the way of 
 Monk s Corner, Dorchester, &c., to Coo- 
 sawhatchie. The British were frequent 
 ly harassed by the partisans, who made 
 incursions within this line ; but the force 
 of the assailants was not adequate to any 
 serious attack upon any one of them, that 
 of Georgetown alone excepted. This sta 
 tion, on Winyaw bay, having been left 
 with a small garrison, and being separated 
 from the rest of the line by swamps and 
 water-courses of such magnitude as to 
 prevent any sudden relief from reaching 
 it, was attacked and carried by 
 Marion. The British fled to their 
 galleys ; while the American leader de 
 liberately moved all the military stores 
 and public property up the Pedee, demol 
 ished the fortifications, and returned with 
 out loss to his position in St. Stephens. 
 
 Thus in the space of about three weeks, 
 the British lost six posts, and abandoned 
 all the northeastern extremity of South 
 Carolina. The station at Ninety-Six, and 
 Forts Cornwallis and Griesson, however, 
 at Augusta, in Georgia, still held out. 
 
 From Fort Granby, Lee was detached 
 to join General Pickens, and lay siege to 
 Augusta; and three days after 
 the fall of the former post, his 
 legion was arrayed before the walls of 
 the latter. General Greene reserved the 
 enemy s post at Ninety-Six for himself, 
 against which he now marched with his 
 main body. 
 
 Lee and Pickens were successful at Au 
 gusta, but met with a desperate resist 
 ance. " The garrison," says Ramsay, " bu 
 ried themselves in a great measure under 
 
 May 18, 
 
 June 5, 
 
 ground and obstinately refused to capitu 
 late, till the necessity was so pressing. 
 that every man who attempted to fire on 
 the besiegers was immediately shot down. 
 At length, when further resistance would 
 have been madness, the fort, with about 
 three hundred men, surrendered 
 on honorable terms of capitula 
 tion." During the siege, the Americans 
 lost about forty men. After the surren 
 der, Lieutenant-Colonel Griesson, of the 
 British militia, was killed by an American, 
 who forced his horse into the house where 
 the prisoner was kept, and, without dis 
 mounting, shot him dead, and escaped be 
 fore he could be arrested. A reward of 
 a hundred pounds sterling was offered for 
 the discovery of the perpetrator of the 
 deed, but without avail. 
 
 In the meanwhile, General Greene had 
 encamped within cannon-shot of the fort 
 of Ninety-Six. The reduction of 
 
 ,i f -A 11 K Wa y 22t 
 
 this formidable station was an ob 
 ject of the greatest interest. The village 
 of Cambridge (or, as it was called in that 
 day, the post of Ninety-Six) was at this 
 time the pivot of very extensive opera 
 tions. To possess it, therefore, was to give 
 the finishing blow to the British strength 
 in the interior of the state. 
 
 Greene s whole force consisted of one 
 thousand men. The enemy were but five 
 hundred and fifty strong, three hundred 
 and fifty of whom were royal Americans 
 from New York and New Jersey, who had 
 enlisted at an early period of the war, 
 and were considered among the best sol 
 diers in the British army. The remain 
 ing two hundred were volunteer tory ri 
 flemen recruited from the neighborhood. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE AMERICANS BESIEGE FORT NINETY- SIX. 
 
 805 
 
 These latter were men desperate from 
 their social position, and skilful marks 
 men, who were conspicuous in the suc 
 cessful defence of the place. The whole 
 were under the command of Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Cruger, a brave and zealous New- 
 York loyalist. 
 
 The fortifications of Ninety-Six were 
 old works which had been erected at the 
 commencement of the Revolution, as a 
 protection against the incursions of the 
 Indians, whose settlements were then in 
 its near neighborhood. The place was 
 remarkable as being the scene of the first 
 conflict in the southern war ; for here, in 
 1775, began that sanguinary hostility be 
 tween the whigs and tories which subse 
 quently desolated the beautiful country 
 around it. 
 
 During the invasion of the state by 
 the British, the works at Ninety-Six had 
 been reconstructed, according to all the 
 rules of military art, by some of the ablest 
 of the engineers in the army of Cornwal- 
 lis. On the approach of Greene, Cruger 
 had still further strengthened them by 
 judicious additions and improvements. 
 The principal work was the star-redoubt, 
 with sixteen salient and returning angles, 
 a ditch, frieze, and abattis. This star-bat 
 tery was defended by three pieces of ar 
 tillery, on wheel-carriages, which could 
 be moved readily from one point to an 
 other. There was also a stockade-fort, 
 strongly built on high ground, at conve 
 nient distances within which were erect 
 ed blockhouses of notched logs, that com 
 municated with the star-redoubt ; while 
 Cruger and his garrison had, by the most 
 laborious efforts, succeeded in throwing 
 100 
 
 up parapets of earth, making traverses, 
 and in otherwise increasing and strength 
 ening the works. On the north of the 
 village extends a valley, through which 
 flows a rivulet that supplied the garrison 
 with water. The county jail, lying near, 
 was fortified, and commanded the valley 
 on the side next the village ; its fire also 
 reached to the strong stockade-fort, with 
 its two blockhouses, on the opposite side 
 of the valley, which covered the commu 
 nication with the rivulet from that quar 
 ter. A covert way led from the town to 
 the rivulet. Thus secured, the enemy 
 were bold and defiant. 
 
 General Greene, when he beheld the 
 strength of the place, apprehended the 
 failure of his enterprise ; but this doubt 
 did not discourage him from his design, 
 and he accordingly broke ground on the 
 day after his arrival. Koscius- 
 ko, the skilful Polish engineer, 
 had hardly marked out his first parallel, 
 and the Americans commenced opera 
 tions before the formidable star-fort, which 
 was the first object of attack, than Cruger 
 prepared to interrupt them. He threw 
 out a platform in one of the angles of the 
 fort, mounted it with his three pieces of 
 artillery, and manned it with infantry. 
 Thus prepared, he began a brisk fire of 
 cannon and musketry, under the cover of 
 which a party sallied out of the fort with 
 fixed bayonets, and, making an impetuous 
 rush upon the American guards and work 
 ing-parties, drove all before them, demol 
 ished their works, and returned loaded 
 with their intrench ing- tools. The only 
 loss of the enemy was the death of the 
 gallant lieutenant who led them. Gen- 
 
SCO 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 eral Greene sent a detachment to sustain 
 Kosciusko and liis working-party, but it 
 arrived too late upon the ground to give 
 succor. 
 
 Greene now found it necessary to be 
 more cautious. He therefore ordered the 
 approaches to be commenced at a more 
 respectful distance, and under the cover 
 of a ravine. The star-redoubt was still 
 the sole object of the besiegers, until the 
 the arrival (on the 8th of June) of Colonel 
 Lee, who, after his triumph at Augusta, 
 had hastened to co-operate with Greene. 
 After the completion of the first parallel, 
 a mine, directed against the star-fort, had 
 been begun, under the cover of a battery 
 erected on the enemy s right. The work 
 was prosecuted by the besiegers day and 
 night without intermission. The troops 
 labored alternately in the ditches, some 
 on guard while others toiled, and even 
 sleeping on their arms, to repel the sal 
 lies of the besieged, which were bold and 
 frequent, and resulted in long and spirited 
 conflicts. The American works steadily 
 advanced, however, in spite of these sal 
 lies ; but a fierce strife followed every 
 step in their progress, and not a night 
 passed without the loss of lives on both 
 sides. 
 
 The second parallel having been fin 
 ished, the garrison was summoned to sur 
 render. Cruger defiantly reject- 
 
 JIII16 O 
 
 ed the demand, and continued 
 his daring but ineffective sallies. The 
 third parallel was then begun, when the 
 resolute enemy became still more active 
 and pertinacious in defence. Cruger had, 
 moreover, with timely prudence, incorpo 
 rated with his army his negro laborers ; 
 
 and he was further aided from without 
 by a marauding force under William Cun 
 ningham, which materially interfered with 
 the supplies, the recruits, and the general 
 intelligence, of the Americans. 
 
 The three field pieces from the platform 
 of the star-redoubt were plied by the foe 
 day and night. Greene built lofty tow 
 ers of roughly-hewn logs, mounted them 
 with riflemen, and, by picking off the ar 
 tillerymen, succeeded in silencing theii 
 guns by day, although they still kept up 
 a nightly discharge, and strove by red- 
 hot balls to set fire to the wooden struc 
 tures which were proving so formidable. 
 The enemy, however, finding that these 
 attempts were ineffective, from the uncer 
 tainty of the aim of the artillerymen in 
 the darkness of the night, and the incom 
 bustible nature of the green wood of 
 which the towers were constructed, final 
 ly ceased to throw hot shot. 
 
 On the arrival of Colonel Lee, that of 
 ficer was immediately ordered to 
 begin regular approaches against 
 the stockade-fort on the enemy s left. His 
 ditch was soon ready, his battery erected 
 and mounted with a six-pounder, and his 
 advances under their cover rapidly made. 
 Cruger still continued his nightly sallies 
 with undiminished spirit, striving to pos 
 sess himself of the trenches of the besieg 
 ers, and to " destroy with the spade what 
 ever he might gain by the bayonet." He 
 was, however, constantly foiled by the ac 
 tivity and vigilance of Greene, who was 
 ever on the alert. 
 
 The works of the besiegers were now 
 so near completion, that a further defence 
 of the place was limited to four days. Be- 
 
 Jime 8. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] STUBBORN DEFENCE. APPROACH OF RAWDON. 
 
 8G7 
 
 sides the towers before spoken of, one of 
 which was within thirty yards of the ene 
 my s ditch., the besiegers had several bat 
 teries of cannon within a hundred and 
 forty yards. One of these so completely 
 commanded the star-fort, that the garri 
 son were compelled to shelter themselves 
 behind bags of sand, which increased its 
 elevation by three feet. Through these 
 sand-bags, apertures were left for the use 
 of small-arms by day, and the withdrawal 
 of the sand-bags left embrasures for the 
 employment of the cannon by night. 
 
 Thus, for ten days, the besiegers and 
 besieged lay watching each other. Du 
 ring this time, not a man could show his 
 head on either side without incurring the 
 shot of the riflemen. Cruger s position, 
 however, as his besiegers closed hourly 
 upon him, was becoming desperate. His 
 water, too, was in danger of being cut off 
 by Lee s approach to the stockade-fort, 
 that defended the rivulet from which the 
 supply of the garrison was obtained. The 
 men were already forced to resort to the 
 expedient of sending out naked negroes 
 in the night to procure the water, trust 
 ing that, by the duskiness of the one and 
 the darkness of the other, they would es 
 cape the aim of the American marksmen. 
 Lee, conscious of the importance of pos 
 sessing or destroying the stockade-fort, 
 oy which alone the enemy were able to 
 command the stream, became impatient 
 of the slow siege-operations, and, follow 
 ing the example of Marion in the capture 
 of Fort Motte, strove to set fire to it with 
 flaming arrows. The enemy, however, 
 unroofed their buildings, and averted the 
 catastrophe. 
 
 Lee now sent a sergeant with nine pri 
 vates of the legion, loaded with combus 
 tibles, to burn the fort, under the cover 
 of a dark storm which was threatening. 
 The brave men obeyed the order with 
 alacrity. They approached for awhile, 
 hidden by the nature of the ground ; but 
 when it became more open, they were 
 forced to move along on their bellies, to 
 avoid being seen. The sergeant, with 
 three of his men, succeeded in reaching 
 the ditch, the rest of the party being close 
 behind them, and was in the act of ap 
 plying the fire to the stockade-fort, when 
 he was discovered. In a moment, hun 
 dreds of muskets were aimed and fired. 
 The sergeant and five of his gallant band 
 were shot dead. Four escaped unhurt, 
 and, amid a shower of musket-balls, re 
 tired to the camp. 
 
 Notwithstanding the stubborn resist 
 ance of Colonel Cruger and his loyalist 
 garrison, there seemed little prospect of 
 their holding out much longer, when an 
 event occurred which at once aroused 
 their energies afresh and renewed their 
 hopes : 
 
 " In the evening," says Lee, who de 
 scribes the incident, of which he was an 
 eye-witness, " a countryman was seen ri 
 ding along our lines south of the town, 
 con versing familiarly with the officers and 
 soldiers on duty. He was not regarded, 
 as from the beginning of the siege our 
 friends in the country were in the habit 
 of visiting camp, and were permitted to 
 go wherever their curiosity led them, one 
 of whom this man was presumed to be. 
 At length he reached the great road lead 
 ing directly to the town, in which quarter 
 
868 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 were only some batteries thrown up for 
 the protection of the guards. Putting 
 spur to his horse, he rushed with full 
 speed into town, receiving the ineffectual 
 fire of our sentinels and guards nearest 
 to him, and holding up a letter in his 
 hand as soon as he cleared himself of our 
 fire. The propitious signal gave joy to 
 the garrison, who, running to meet their 
 friend, opened the gate, Avelcoming his 
 arrival with loud expressions of delight. 
 He was the bearer of a despatch from 
 Rawdon to Cruder, communicating his ar- 
 
 o / O 
 
 rival at Orangeburg in adequate force, 
 and informing him that he was hastening? 
 
 o o 
 
 to his relief. This intelligence infused 
 new vigor into the intrepid leader and 
 his brave companions." 
 
 Simms gives the following explanation 
 of this curious incident : "A woman was 
 the instrument employed by the British 
 for encouraging @ruger to protract the 
 siege. Residing in the neighborhood, she 
 had visited the camp of Greene, under 
 some pretence of little moment. The 
 daughter of one tried patriot and the sis 
 ter of another, she had been received at 
 the general s table, and permitted the free 
 dom of the encampment. But she had 
 formed a matrimonial connection with a 
 British officer, and the ties of love had 
 proved stronger than those of any other 
 relationship. In the opportunities thus 
 afforded her, she contrived to apprize the 
 garrison that she had a communication 
 from Lord Rawdon. A young loyalist re 
 ceived it from her lips, at a farmhouse in 
 June 17, tlienL % nl)0rnoo ^nd,underthe 
 fires of the sentinels, dashing suc 
 cessfully and at full speed by the pickets, 
 
 he was admitted with hurrahs into the 
 garrison." 
 
 General Greene had for several da}^s 
 been aware of the approach of Lord Raw 
 don, who, after waiting with anxious im 
 patience at Charleston for expected rein 
 forcements, was finally rejoiced by the 
 arrival of three regiments from Ireland. 
 Conscious of the danger awaiting Cruger. 
 at Ninety-Six, his lordship at the head of 
 twenty-five hundred men hastened for 
 ward by forced marches to the relief of 
 his subordinate. Greene strove to delay 
 his approach, ordering General Sumter 
 (to whose aid he had sent Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Washington with his cavalry and 
 Pickens with his militia) to keep in the 
 earl s front, and check his advance. Ma 
 rion, too, was directed to be on the alert, 
 and hasten from the low country as soon 
 as it should become apparent that Raw 
 don was marchinsr to Ninety-Six. This 
 
 O / 
 
 prospect of succor had, however, by the 
 vigilance of the Americans, been carefully 
 kept from the knowledge of Cruger, who 
 knew nothing of it until the bold push of 
 the countryman into the fort at this late 
 moment. Lord Rawdon had, moreover, 
 succeeded in outmanoeuvring Sumter, and 
 getting between him and Greene. His 
 approach was hourly expected ; and the 
 American commander, therefore, had to 
 choose at once between assailing the fort, 
 meeting his lordship, or retiring. 
 
 Greene decided upon storming the for 
 tress without delay. Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Campbell, of the first Virginia regiment, 
 with a detachment from the Maryland 
 and Virginia brigades, was to lead the 
 assault on the left, and Lieutenant-Colo- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] THE ASSAULT AND REPULSE AT NINETY-SIX. 
 
 869 
 
 nel Lee with the legion infantry, and Cap 
 tain Kirkwood with the remains of the 
 Delaware regiment, on the right. Lieu 
 tenant Duval, with a company of Mary- 
 landers, and Lieutenant Selden, with an 
 other of Virginians, led the forlorn hope 
 of Campbell ; and Major Rudolph, of the 
 legion, that of Lee, which was directed 
 against the stockade-fort. Fascines were 
 made ready to fill in the ditches, and long 
 poles, with hooks, to pull down the sand 
 bags with which the enemy had increased 
 the height of their parapets. The third 
 parallel having been manned, and the 
 sharpshooters stationed on the lofty tow 
 er in front of the star-fort, with orders to 
 clear the parapets of the garrison previ 
 ous to the advance of the storming-party, 
 the first signal was given, when the as 
 sailants entered the trenches, with every 
 manifestation of eagerness to begin the 
 attack. 
 
 At noon, the second cannon was fired. 
 Campbell and Lee rushed to the 
 assault. " Cruger, always pre 
 pared," says Lee, who was on the spot, 
 and relates his own experience, " received 
 them with his accustomed firmness. The 
 parapets were manned with spike and bay 
 onet ; and the riflemen, fixed at the sand 
 bag apertures, maintained a steady and 
 destructive fire. Duval and Selden en 
 tered the enemy s ditch at different points, 
 and Campbell stood prepared to support 
 them, in the rear of the party furnished 
 with hooks to pull down the sand-bags. 
 This party had also entered the enemy s 
 ditch, and began to apply the hook. Un 
 covering the parapet now would have 
 given us victory ; and such was the vig- 
 
 Juue IS. 
 
 orous support afforded by the musketry 
 from the third parallel, from the riflemen 
 in the tower, and from the artillery mount 
 ed in battery, that sanguine anticipations 
 of this happy issue were universally in 
 dulged. The moment the bags in front 
 were pulled down, Campbell would have 
 mounted the parapet, where the struggle 
 could not have been long maintained. 
 Cruger had prepared an intermediate bat 
 tery with his three pieces, which he oc 
 casionally applied to right and left. At 
 first, it was directed against Lee s left; 
 but very soon every piece was applied 
 upon Campbell s right, which was very 
 injurious to his column. 
 
 "Major Greene, commanding ir the 
 star- redoubt, sensible of the danger to 
 which he was exposed, if the attempted 
 lodgment upon his front curtain succeed 
 ed, determined to try the bayonet in his 
 ditch as well as on his parapet. To Cap 
 tains Campbell and French was commit 
 ted this bold effort. Entering into the 
 ditch through a sally-port in the rear of 
 the star/ they took opposite directions, 
 and soon came in contact, the one with 
 Duval, the other with Selden. Here en 
 sued a desperate conflict. The Americans, 
 not only fighting with the enemy in front 
 but with the enemy overhead, sustained 
 gallantly the unequal contest, until Duval 
 and Selden became disabled by wounds, 
 when they yielded, and were driven back 
 with great loss to the point of entry. The 
 few surviving escaped with the hookmen 
 to our trenches, where yet remained Colo 
 nel Campbell, the sand-bags not being re 
 moved. 
 
 " On the left, the issue was very differ- 
 
870 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 ent. Rudolph gained the enemy s ditch, 
 and, followed by the column, soon opened 
 his way into the fort, from which the en 
 emy, giving their last fire, precipitately 
 retreated. Measures were in train, on the 
 part of Lee, to follow up his blow, by pas 
 sing the rivulet, entering the town, and 
 forcing the fortified prison, whence the 
 left might have yielded substantial aid to 
 the attack upon the star, by compelling 
 Cruger to struggle for the town, or forcing 
 him with all his troops to take refuge in 
 the star; a situation not long to be held, 
 crowded as he must have been, and desti 
 tute of water." 
 
 General Greene, however, at this mo 
 ment, sent orders to Campbell to with 
 draw, as his brave men were being sacri 
 ficed without apparent advantage ; and 
 Lee was commanded to hold the stock 
 ade-fort, but to cease advancing. Nearly 
 two thirds of the assailants were struck 
 down in the attack on the star-battery, 
 yet the strife was maintained for almost 
 three quarters of an hour ; and in their 
 retreat, though still under a galling fire 
 from the garrison, the survivors brought 
 off the greater number of their wounded 
 comrades. One hundred and eighty were 
 the killed and wounded on the side of the 
 Americans, and eighty-five on that of the 
 enemy. 
 
 June 18. 
 
 The attempt to carry the works of the 
 foe by assault was thus shown to be fruit 
 less. Moreover, intelligence soon came 
 that Lord Rawdon, with his twenty-five 
 hundred men, having broken through the 
 obstructions offered by the partisan forces 
 under General Marion, had appeared in 
 the neighborhood, and was now rapidly 
 approaching, to give his promised succor 
 to the beleagured loyalists. Under these 
 circumstances, with a far inferior force, 
 and his troops dispirited by their repulse, 
 there was nothing left to the American 
 commander but immediate retreat. As 
 soon, as the night closed in, ac 
 cordingly, Lee was ordered to 
 abandon the stockade-fort which he had 
 so gallantly taken, and Greene withdrew 
 from Ninety-Six with his whole force. 
 
 " Had a few days time been allowed to 
 Greene s approaches on Ninety-Six," ob 
 serves Simms, " or had the supplies of mi 
 litia promised from Virginia reached him, 
 the prize for which he struggled must 
 have been in his possession. Now, baf 
 fled, if not beaten, he fell back slowly and 
 sullenly before the pursuit of Rawdon, 
 until the latter, weary of a chase which 
 promised to be hopeless, and warned by 
 circumstances which called him elsewhere, 
 abandoned equally the pursuit and the 
 country." 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. J EAWDON ABANDONS NINETY-SIX. THE LOYALISTS. 
 
 871 
 
 CHAPTER OIL 
 
 Mortification a General Greene. He resolves to conquer the Country, or die. His Retreat. Lord Rawdon in Pursuit. 
 His Lord.ship back again at Ninety-Six. Retirement of Rawdon. Desertion of the Loyalist Inhabitants. Greene 
 faces about. Pursuit. Challenge to Battle. Bold Stroke of Colonel Lee. Hurry of Rawdon. Arrival at Granby. 
 Orangeburg. Mutinous Soldiers. Another Challenge. Greene among the High Hills of the Santee. His Camp 
 of Repose. Sumter s Expedition. Thundering at the Gates of Charleston. Rapid Movements. Fall of Dorchester. 
 Wade Hampton before the Walls of Charleston. Fright of the Inhabitants. Stolen Thunder. Junction. The 
 Enemy abandon Monk s Corner. Coat.es surprised. Fight at the Bridge. Bold Leap. Success of Coates. Prepara 
 tion for Sumter. Another Conflict. Discord among the Americans. Their Retirement. Earl Rawdon departs for 
 Europe. Inaction. Civil Strife. Blood and Slaughter. Execution of Colonel Isaac Hayne. Inhuman Insult. 
 Want of Reinforcements by the Americans. Victory or Ruin. Services of the Partisan Leaders. General Greene 
 marches to meet the Enemy. Ready for Battle. 
 
 1781, 
 
 IT was exceedingly mortifying to 
 General Greene that, after an ardu 
 ous siege of twenty-eight days, he should 
 be obliged to leave Ninety-Six, defeated 
 in his object, at the very moment that a 
 triumph was about to crown his labors. 
 Some of his friends were so disheartened 
 at the result, and so distrustful of the fu 
 ture in South Carolina, that they urged 
 him to quit the state, and retire with his 
 small force to Virginia, " No," answered 
 Greene, resolutely ; u I mU recover the coun 
 try, or die in the attempt !" He thus began 
 his retreat, vanquished for the moment, 
 but still hopeful. On the second 
 day after his repulse at Ninety- 
 Six, he crossed the Saluda. On the 24th 
 he arrived on the banks of the Guorree, 
 and did not come to a halt until he had 
 crossed that river, as also the Tiger and 
 the Broad. 
 
 Lord Rawdon pursued the retreating 
 Americans until he reached the banks of 
 the Guorree, when, finding it impossible 
 to come up with Greene, he returned to 
 Ninety-Six. His march had served only 
 
 June 20, 
 
 to extricate Cruger from his immediate 
 difficulty. He now determined to aban 
 don that post, as it was too remote to be 
 readily supported ; and the proofs were 
 convincing, all around him, that the day 
 had gone by when a foreign foe could 
 maintain itself among the recovering in 
 habitants. The famous post of Ninety- 
 Six, in defence of which so much blood 
 had been already shed, was accordingly 
 evacuated, and left in possession of the 
 patriots, from whom it had been so lately 
 rescued. The neighboring loyalists, who 
 had so bravely fought for the royal cause, 
 claimed all the s}^mpathy of the English 
 earl, and he so far provided for their safe 
 ty as to leave Colonel Cruger, with one 
 half his force, to escort them, when ready, 
 to Charleston ; while he himself pushed 
 on, with eight hundred infantry and sixty 
 horsemen, toward the Congaree river. 
 
 Piteous, indeed, was the misery of the 
 wretched loyalists, whom this abandon 
 ment of Ninety-Six virtually surrendered 
 to the rage of the long-persecuted patri 
 ots. A fearful day of retribution was at 
 
872 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 hand, which they did not venture to await. 
 At a season when their farms were most 
 lovely in the promise of a plenteous har 
 vest, they were compelled to surrender 
 them and fly. 
 
 Vainly did their chiefs expostulate with 
 the British chief against his desertion of 
 those who, to serve the cause of their 
 sovereign, had incurred the enduring hos 
 tility of their countrymen. But the ne 
 cessity was not less pressing upon Lord 
 Eawdon than upon his wretched allies ; 
 and, with a last look upon their homes, 
 a mournful cavalcade of men, women, and 
 children, prepared to abandon the fields 
 of equal beauty and plenty which their 
 treachery to their country had richly for 
 feited, but for which they were still wil 
 ling to perish rather than depart. 
 
 Sullenly the strong men led the way, 
 while, with eyes that streamed and still 
 looked backward, the women and chil 
 dren followed reluctantly, and with souls 
 full of wretchedness and grief. How bit 
 terly in their ears, at such a moment, must 
 have sounded the notes of that drum and 
 trumpet which had beguiled them from 
 the banners of their country to those of 
 its invader ! AVhat a pang to the bosoms 
 of the fathers ! what a lesson to the sons, 
 guiltless of the offence, yet condemned to 
 share in its penalties I* 
 
 On discovering the retrograde move 
 ment of Lord Rawdon, and the division 
 of his force, General Greene immediately 
 faced about, to pursue in his turn, and 
 provoke his lordship to battle. The ac 
 tive Lee was sent in advance, with his 
 cavalry, to hover about the British, and 
 
 * Simms. 
 
 to harass them in their retreat, should 
 they refuse to stand their ground and to 
 accept the challenge which Greene was 
 proffering them. The earl, however, had 
 no disposition to lose a moment by the 
 way, as his object was to hasten to Gran- 
 by, where he had summoned Colonel Stew 
 art to meet him with a small detachment 
 of troops from Charleston. 
 
 In the advance which Greene contin 
 ued to make upon the retreating foe, an 
 opportunity offered to Lee of striking a 
 blow at his cavalry. Rawdon had with 
 him but a small number of dragoons, his 
 chief strength in this description of troops 
 being engaged in distant operations. 
 
 Major Eagles ton, with a strong body 
 of the American cavalry, throwing him 
 self in advance of the enemy, placed an 
 ambush in reserve, and presented himself 
 with a small number in view of the Brit 
 ish. This drew upon him, as was antici 
 pated, an attack of the whole hostile cav 
 alry. His flight enticed them to the thick 
 et where the rest of the troop was con 
 cealed, and their joint charges completely 
 overwhelmed the foe. Many were slain, 
 and forty-five men and horses, with sev 
 eral commissioned officers, within a mile 
 of the whole British army, fell into the 
 hands of the Americans. 
 
 This bold stroke of Lee s legion, togeth 
 er with the accumulating numbers and au 
 dacity of the Americans, greatly alarmed 
 Earl Rawdon, and gave increased speed 
 to his flight. Indeed, so urgently did he 
 press on his men in their march, that no 
 less than fifty fell dead by the roadside, 
 from fatigue, privation, and the excessive 
 heat of the weather ! His lordship thus 
 
KfJVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 EXPEDITION TO THE LOW COUNTRY. 
 
 873 
 
 succeeded, by his unwonted,, efforts, in 
 reaching Granby before General Greene 
 could come up. The expected reinforce 
 ments from Charleston, however, not hav 
 ing arrived, the earl sought safety by re 
 tiring to Orangeburg, where he posted 
 himself on strong ground, and waited for 
 the junction of Colonels Stewart and Cru- 
 ger. Here he could give a breathing-time 
 to his hard-pressed troops, whose powers 
 of endurance had been at last so exhaust 
 ed, that they were ready to lay down their 
 arms in mutinous disobedience if ordered 
 to continue their march. 
 
 Greene, with the aid of Marion, strove 
 in vain to prevent the junction of Stew 
 art with Rawdon. After this disappoint 
 ment, he moved forward and encamped 
 within five miles of Orangeburg. Here 
 he endeavored to provoke his lordship to 
 battle. The earl, how r ever, refused to be 
 drawn from his strong ground, and the 
 American general was too feeble to justi 
 fy an attack upon him in his works. Sev 
 eral efforts which he made with his cav 
 alry, to arrest the approach of supplies 
 to the British, having proved abortive, 
 and tidings having reached him of the 
 advance of Cruger with fifteen hundred 
 men to the relief of Rawdon, compelled 
 General Greene to retire from a position 
 which he could not have retained after 
 this accession of strength to his antago 
 nist. Finding it thus imprudent to strike 
 a blow, the American command 
 er withdrew to a camp of repose 
 among the "High hills" of the San tee, 
 while he meditated upon other modes for 
 the expulsion of the enemy from their 
 strong position on the Edisto. 
 110 
 
 July 5. 
 
 In the meanwhile, General Pickens and 
 his militia had been equally unsuccessful 
 in preventing the junction of Cruger with 
 Earl Rawdon, which so strength 
 ened his lordship, that he would 
 now have gladly gone out with his pow 
 erful force against the Americans ; but, 
 by his timely and prudent retreat on the 
 previous day, Greene had placed himself 
 out of reach beyond the Congaree. 
 
 While the American general was thus 
 in his " camp of repose," he was not the 
 less active in preparing means for driving 
 out the enemy from South Carolina. The 
 evacuation of Camden having been effect 
 ed by striking at the posts below it, it 
 was now proposed to try the same plan 
 to force the British from Orangeburg. An 
 expedition to the low country was imme 
 diately set on foot for this purpose, con 
 sisting of about a thousand men, most of 
 whom belonged to the Carolinas, although 
 
 o / o 
 
 Lee with his legion, and a small artillery- 
 force with one fieldpiece, were added. 
 This was the famous " raid of the clou;- 
 
 o 
 
 days." It took place in midsummer, when 
 the continentals dared not inarch. The 
 chief command of the expedition was giv 
 en to Sumter, with whom were united Ma 
 rion, Lee, the two Hamptons, Taylor, ITor- 
 ry, Maham, and Lacy, all gallant officers 
 of the South. General Greene well knew 
 the men whom he had intrusted with this 
 enterprise, and spoke to them in sympa 
 thy with their adventurous and energetic 
 spirit. " There is no time to be lost," wrote 
 Greene, in his orders to Sumter. " Push 
 your operations night and day. Keep a 
 party to watch the enemy s motions at 
 Orangeburg, as they move down. Should 
 
874 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 they move in any other direction, I will 
 advise yon. Keep Colonel Lee and Gen 
 eral Marion advised of all matters from 
 above, and tell Colonel Lee to thunder 
 even at the gates of Charleston !" 
 
 These gallant men eagerly strove to 
 obey the spirited instructions of their 
 commander. Sumter at once moved rap 
 idly down with his main body along the 
 south side of the Congaree. Lee, with 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Wade Hampton, was 
 despatched to attack the British post at 
 Dorchester. Colonel Henry Hampton was 
 stationed at Orangeburg, to keep a watch 
 on the main body of the enemy ; and all 
 were to reunite at Monk s Corner, and at 
 tack its strong works, which were held by 
 Colonel Coates. 
 
 On his march, Lee took all the wagons 
 and wagon-horses belonging to a convoy 
 of provisions. He then advanced to Dor 
 chester, which fell at once. The garrison, 
 which had been much reduced, and was 
 in a state of mutiny, no sooner discovered 
 the approach of the small party which had 
 been sent by Lee, under Wade Hampton, 
 to the bridge at Goose creek, in order to 
 cut off the communication with Monk s 
 Corner, than it precipitately abandoned 
 the post. 
 
 While Lee was collecting the spoils at 
 Dorchester, consisting of about two hun 
 dred horses and a large supply of ammu 
 nition, Colonel Wade Hampton dashed 
 down the road to Charleston, captured a 
 party of fifty dragoons by the way, and 
 suddenly appeared so close to the walls 
 of the town, that the inhabitants, in their 
 terror, believed the whole American army 
 had come. The bells of the churches were 
 
 rung, the alarm-guns fired, and every man 
 was up in arms. Hampton had thus sto 
 len a march upon Lee, and robbed him 
 of the " thunder" with which Greene had 
 bidden him knock at the gates of Charles 
 ton. Lee arrived next day, but too late 
 to win any laurels.* 
 
 In this foray, Hampton also burnt four 
 vessels, laden with valuable stores for the 
 British army. Lee and Hampton now 
 hastened to join Sumter, and unite with 
 him in the contemplated attack upon Colo 
 nel Coates at Monk s Corner. 
 
 Meanwhile a detachment of Marion s 
 men, under Colonel Mali am, passing the 
 head of Cooper river and Wad boo creek, 
 penetrated below to the eastward of Big 
 gin church, to obstruct the retreat of the 
 garrison at the church, by destroying the 
 Wadboo bridge. 
 
 The church near Biggin bridge was a 
 strong brick building, about a mile from 
 Monk s Corner, where the British had a 
 redoubt. The church covered the bridge, 
 and secured the retreat at that point by 
 way of the corner. It was strongly gar 
 risoned by a British force of nearly seven 
 hundred men ; and the detachment under 
 Maham did not dare to advance with 
 any confidence w T hile unsupported by the 
 main force of the Americans. 
 
 Lee and Hampton having effected a 
 junction with General Sumter, the latter 
 advanced to support Maham in 
 his attempt upon the bridge. Ke- 
 inforcing his troop with a detachment un 
 der Colonel Peter Horry, the command 
 devolved upon that oflicer, who at once 
 proceeded to the destruction of the bridge. 
 
 * Irving. 
 
 July 16. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 FIGHT AT QUINBY BRIDGE. 
 
 875 
 
 The cavalry of the enemy now advanced 
 boldly to defeat his purpose, but were re 
 ceived by the mounted American riflemen, 
 who broke entirely through them, killing 
 some, and taking a number of prisoners. 
 
 This defeat drew out the British in such 
 force, that the party engaged in destroy 
 ing the bridge was compelled to fall back 
 upon the main body. Sumter, believing 
 that the enemy had marched out to give 
 him battle, retired behind a defile at a 
 little distance in the rear, and prepared 
 to receive the attack in the most advan 
 tageous position. 
 
 But the British colonel had no such 
 purpose. In proportion as the confidence 
 of the Americans rose in the conflict, that 
 of the invaders invariably fell. The de 
 sign of Coates was simply to wear out the 
 day. With the approach of evening, he 
 accumulated the stores of the garrison 
 within the church, and then set them on 
 fire, to prevent their falling into the hands 
 of the Americans. During the night, the 
 British decamped, taking the road to the 
 eastward by Wadboo and Quinby. 
 
 As soon as the flames were ob 
 served bursting through the roof 
 of the sacred edifice, and Sumter had thus 
 discovered the departure of the enemy, 
 he led out his troops in pursuit ; but, un 
 fortunately, Lieutenant Singleton, with a 
 piece of artillery, was ordered to remain 
 upon the ground, that he might not de 
 lay the movements of the infantry. Lee 
 and his legion, with Colonel Hampton, 
 were in advance, until, having passed the 
 Wadboo, they discovered that the cavalry 
 of the enemy had separated from the in 
 fantry, and had taken the route to the 
 
 right. Hampton accordingly diverged in 
 this direction, urging his panting horses to 
 the utmost, in the hope of overtaking the 
 dragoons before they could effect their 
 passage of the river. In this he was un 
 successful, and only returned to witness 
 the equally fortunate escape of the ene 
 my s infantry, the only remaining object 
 of pursuit. 
 
 Marion s cavalry had in the meantime 
 joined that of Lee, and, after a quick run 
 of eighteen miles, they came up, about a 
 mile to the north of Quinby creek, with 
 the rear-guard of the retreating army, 
 consisting of one hundred men. These, 
 being composed of raw recruits, were so 
 frightened at the approach of the cavalry 
 in furious onset, as to be almost incapable 
 of the power of resistance. They threw 
 down their arms without firing a gun, and 
 begged for quarter, which was granted 
 them. 
 
 Colonel Coates, having crossed Quinby 
 bridge with his main body, had already 
 commenced its demolition, and was only 
 awaiting the passage of the rear-guard and 
 his baggage to complete its destruction. 
 The planks which covered the bridge were 
 loosened from their sleepers, and a how 
 itzer, at its opposite extremity, was so 
 placed as to protect the party engaged 
 in throwing them off At this moment, 
 Captain Armstrong, with the advance sec 
 tion of Lee s horse came dashing up. As 
 the rear-guard had been overcome with 
 out any fight, no alarm -gun had been 
 fired, and no express had been sent to ap 
 prize the British commander of his dan 
 ger. Thus taken by surprise, he was al 
 most wholly unprepared for defence. The 
 
876 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPATJT TT. 
 
 panic oy which he had lost one important 
 part of his force, had nearly involved the 
 destruction of the remainder. 
 
 He happened, however, fortunately for 
 himself, to be at the bridge when the cav 
 alry of the Americans came rushing into 
 view. His main body was at this moment 
 partly on the causeway, on the south side 
 of the bridge, and partly pressed into a 
 lane beyond it. Thus crowded, they were 
 wholly disabled for immediate action; but 
 Coates nevertheless coolly prepared him 
 self, as well as he might, to remedy the 
 difficulties of his situation, and make his 
 resistance as effectual as possible. Orders 
 were despatched to his troops on the ad 
 vance to halt, form, and march up. while 
 the artillerists were called to the howit 
 zer, and the fatigue-party to the renewal 
 of their labors for the destruction of the 
 bridge. 
 
 If the situation of the British was thus 
 perilous, that of the pursuing Americans 
 for a time became scarcely less so. The 
 planks sliding into the water, and the 
 open jaws of the howitzer, ready to send 
 destruction into their crowded ranks, left 
 them little time for deliberation. Pres 
 sing upon each other, a dense mass upon 
 a narrow causeway, they felt that the 
 withdrawal of the enemy s fatigue-party 
 from the bridge would be the signal for 
 applying the lighted port-fire to the how 
 itzer. A moment longer, and the iron 
 hail would have mowed down their col 
 umns ! 
 
 Armstrong saw the danger, and availed 
 himself of the single moment that was 
 left him. Dashing across the bridge, he 
 
 O 
 
 drove the artillerists from their gun. In 
 
 the rush of their horses, Armstrong and 
 his troopers had displaced some of the 
 loose planks of the bridge. This left a 
 gap, over which Lieutenant Carrington 
 and the second section of Lee s dragoons 
 were obliged to leap, as they spurred on 
 to the succor of their comrades. Colonel 
 Lee himself now came up with his third 
 section ; but, as the gap had been much 
 enlarged, the horses faltered, and refused 
 to take it. Maham, however, at the head 
 of Marion s men, feeling the halt, charged 
 by the legionary cavalry ; but the death 
 of his steed arrested his progress. Cap 
 tain M Cauley, who led his front section, 
 pressed on, passed over the fearful chasm, 
 and joined in the fierce hand-to-hand melee 
 that was going on upon the causeway be 
 yond. The stream was too deep and the 
 banks too muddy to attempt to ford, and 
 Lee was obliged to retire, while Carring 
 ton, Armstrong, and M Cauley, were thus 
 bravely struggling with the enemy within 
 his sight on the opposite side. 
 
 The narrow causeway was now crowd 
 ed, and a confused and desperate encoun 
 ter ensued. Some of the working-party, 
 snatching up their guns, delivered a sin 
 gle fire, and then fled. Two of Lee s dra 
 goons fell dead at the mouth of the how 
 itzer, and several were badly wounded. 
 Still, the others remained unhurt. Colo 
 nel Coates, with his officers, covered by a 
 wagon, opposed them with their swords; 
 while the British infantry, having formed, 
 hastened forward to find an opening in 
 which they might display. 
 
 In the meanwhile, some of Lee s men 
 were engaged with Maham and Doctor Ir 
 ving, his surgeon, in replacing the planks 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. 
 
 CONFLICT AT SHUBRICK S PLANTATION. 
 
 877 
 
 upon the bridge, so as to enable the rest 
 of the force to cross to the relief of the 
 few brave men who had already effected 
 their passage. 
 
 At this moment, Armstrong, Carring- 
 ton, and M Cauley,found themselves alone. 
 Their men had failed to cross the bridge 
 
 o 
 
 while the passage was available, and, of 
 the few by whom they had been followed, 
 but a single soldier was left. Coates and 
 his officers occupied the causeway, pro 
 tected by a wagon in front, and, until the 
 planks which he had succeeded in casting 
 from the sleepers could be restored, they 
 could hope for no assistance from their 
 countrymen. Had they been promptly 
 followed, the enemy might have been cut 
 in pieces. Now, they beheld nothing but 
 the seeming certainty of their own fate. 
 The resolution of these brave men, in 
 this predicament, was equally prompt and 
 decided with that by which they had be 
 come involved in it, and they saw that 
 their only hope of escape was in instant 
 flight. They knew that they should be 
 safe from the lire of the enemy in front 
 as long as Coates and his officers were in 
 the rear. Accordingly, putting spurs to 
 their horses, they dashed through the con 
 fused thron<>; still flyim*; alonijr the cause- 
 
 O J O O 
 
 way, rapidly passed over it, gained the 
 shelter of the woods, and, wheeling to the 
 left, made their way along the bank of 
 the stream, until they reached a ford, by 
 which they succeeded in returning safely 
 to the opposite side. 
 
 Colonel Coates now completed the de 
 struction of the bridge, and pressed for 
 ward with his whole force to the neigh 
 boring plantation of Shubrick. Here, in 
 
 the dwellinghouse, outhouses, negro-huts, 
 
 and behind the fences, he stationed his 
 
 I men, and awaited the detachment under 
 
 ; Surnter. The Americans, being obliged 
 
 to make a long circuit before reaching; a 
 
 <J o 
 
 ! ford, did not come up until three o clock 
 
 I in the afternoon. Sumter found 
 ,-, , , .. July 17. 
 
 the enemy drawn up and ready 
 
 to receive him. As the American force 
 consisted chiefly of riflemen and cavalry, 
 and very few had bayonets, it would have 
 been madness to advance directly to the 
 attack. The precedent of King s mount 
 ain furnished the partisan with his order 
 of battle. Accordingly, on reaching the 
 ground, he formed his men into three di 
 visions, his own brigade composing the 
 one, and Marion s (at that time much re 
 duced) the other two. The former, led 
 by Colonels Middleton, Polk, Taylor, and 
 Lacy, was ordered to advance under cover 
 of a range of negro-huts, and take posses 
 sion of them ; and the latter to the right, 
 and within short gunshot of the building 
 which the British occupied in force, and 
 there was no shelter against their fire 
 except the open rail-fences. The cavalry 
 of Lee was held back as a reserve, and to 
 cover the retreat should it be necessary. 
 The several parties moved to the attack 
 with alacrity. Sumter s men soon gained 
 their object, took possession of the negro- 
 huts, and under their cover, were enabled 
 to keep up a secure and effective fire with 
 their rifles. Colonel Taylor, with a small 
 command of forty-five men, pressed for 
 ward to the fences on the enemy s left, 
 whence he poured in a volley. This drew 
 upon him the British bayonet, which com 
 pelled him to retire, 
 
878 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [FATCT n. 
 
 Marion s brigade had much harder and 
 more perilous work before it. As the 
 men advanced to the rescue of Taylor s 
 command, under none but the slight cov 
 er of the rail-fences, they were greatly 
 exposed, but kept pushing on spiritedly, 
 until the enemy were driven into the va 
 rious buildings. From within these, and 
 from a picketed garden, the British main 
 tained the conflict till the sun was down. 
 The Americans, having no artillery with 
 them, and finding their ammunition al 
 most entirely exhausted, w r ere obliged to 
 retire, after a contest of three hours, in 
 which they lost forty men in killed and 
 wounded. All those killed in the action 
 were of Marion s men. The British loss 
 was seventy killed. Their force nearly 
 doubled that of the Americans, and was 
 composed chiefly of Irish troops, but for 
 whose inexperience in the use of firearms 
 the loss of Marion s men must have been 
 far more severe than it was. 
 
 Sumter drew ofFhis force in excellent 
 order, and, having repaired the bridge at 
 Quinby, sent for his artillery and a supply 
 of ammunition, with the view of return 
 ing to the attack. In the meantime, the 
 men of Marion s brigade,fmding that they 
 had been the chief losers in the conflict, 
 began to complain loudly that the brunt 
 of the battle had been imposed upon them, 
 while Sumter had favored his own men 
 by placing them under shelter. This gave 
 rise to such discontent, that the separate 
 divisions refused to act any longer togeth 
 er, and Sumter thus found his command 
 entirely disorganized. He would, never 
 theless, have again sought the enemy at 
 Shubrick s plantation, but he was not only 
 
 still short of ammunition, but also feared 
 the approach of Lord Eawdon, who was 
 reported to be advancing from Orange- 
 burg. He therefore made his way, with 
 all speed, to the camp of General Greene, 
 on the " High hills" of the Santee, where 
 Colonel Lee had gone in advance of him. 
 
 The British lost, in the several engage 
 ments of the expedition, apart from the 
 slain and wounded (the numbers of whom 
 could never be accurately known), nearly 
 two hundred prisoners, including nine 
 commissioned officers, a large quantity of 
 valuable stores, wagons, and horses, and 
 a prize no less rare than valuable in the 
 eyes of the starving Americans seven 
 hundred and twenty guineas, taken in the 
 paymaster s chest, with the baggage, at 
 Quinby bridge. 
 
 The expedition of Sumter, though not 
 as successful as it might have been for 
 Coates s entire command might have been 
 captured was of the highest service, as 
 it inspired the country with a wholesome 
 confidence in its native valor. The troops 
 actually engaged in the attack on Colo 
 nel Coates were almost exclusively South- 
 Carolina militia, and they displayed, with 
 the vivacious audacity of the partisan, the 
 firm, collected resolution of the drilled vet 
 eran/ 11 
 
 While General Greene lay at the hills, 
 a large portion of his men were on the 
 sick-list, and repose was therefore abso 
 lutely necessary to their recovery. But 
 this repose did not imply idleness. To 
 discipline his troops, no less than to re 
 store the sick, was a leading object of the 
 commander. His mind was occupied with 
 
 * Simms. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY."] 
 
 DEPARTURE OF LORD RAWDON. 
 
 879 
 
 the necessity of grappling, on better terms 
 of equality, with the two able British gen 
 erals with whom he had already tried his 
 strength. His earnest desire was to drive 
 Lord Rawdon to Charleston, and confine 
 him within the limits of that city. This 
 would enable him to turn his arms against 
 Cornwallis, or at least contribute to the 
 detention of that formidable commander 
 in Virginia, But the business pressing 
 on the hands of Greene proved too vari 
 ous, and his resources too few, for the ac 
 complishment of his designs; and, fortu 
 nately for the cause of American liberty, 
 Cornwallis found other foes, too numer 
 ous for his safety or escape, in the state 
 which he had invaded. 
 
 In the meantime, Marion, with his bri 
 gade, returning to his old field of opera 
 tions, traversed the borders of the San tee 
 with a success and an activity that did 
 not suffer diminution because of the in 
 tense heats of August, He was still the 
 same cautious but enterprising, bold, yet 
 vigilant captain always in motion, and 
 always successful that he had shown 
 himself from the first. His contempora 
 ry, Sumter, at the same time, with equal 
 activity, returned to the Ninety-Six dis 
 trict, where the sanguinary war of whig 
 and tory had been renewed among the 
 inhabitants with great ferocity. 
 
 Sumter s incursion into the low coun 
 try induced Lord Rawdon to give up his 
 command in the field, and proceed rap 
 idly to Charleston, where he only stayed 
 long enough to sully his military honors 
 by many shameful and sanguinary acts, 
 and then, taking his final departure from 
 South Carolina, sailed for Europe. 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Stewart succeeded 
 his lordship in the command at Orange- 
 burg, but toward the close of July shifted 
 his post to the south side of the Congaree, 
 near its junction with the Wateree. Thus 
 the two armies were only fifteen miles 
 apart, and within sight of each other s 
 watch-fires : but two rivers and innumer 
 able swamps intervened, and the exces 
 sive heat during the height of the sum- 
 
 o <~j 
 
 mer served to prevent immediate hostil 
 ities. 
 
 Though the regular soldier was repo 
 sing for awhile on his arms, blood was still 
 flowing freely. " The whole country," 
 wrote General Greene, " is one continued 
 scene of blood and slaughter." The civil 
 strife among the patriots and the royal 
 ists raged with unwonted fury. Houses 
 were burnt, property destroyed, and even 
 the women and children Avere not spared, 
 while the strong men were engaged in 
 their fierce partisan conflicts. " No lan 
 guage," says Simms, " can do justice to, 
 and visit with proper execration, the do 
 ings of that dismal civil war, which deso 
 lated the fair fields of Carolina, and del 
 uged her dwellings with the tears and 
 blood of her children In the single dis 
 trict of Ninety-Six there were no less than 
 fourteen hundred ividows and orphans made 
 by this savage ivarfare /" 
 
 The animosity which prevailed was ex 
 cited to a still greater degree by the cruel 
 execution of Colonel Isaac Hayne,an emi 
 nent and beloved citizen of South Caro 
 lina, a planter of good family and educa 
 tion, and highly esteemed for his amiable 
 manners and unblemished character. At 
 the siege of Charleston, he commanded a 
 
880 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 troop of horse, and served meanwhile as 
 a senator in the state legislature. His 
 corps of cavalry, which operated in the 
 rear of the British army, and not within 
 the city, did not share in the general cap 
 tivity of the citizens in the fall of Charles 
 ton, but was supposed to be included in 
 its terms of capitulation. His men being 
 disbanded, Hayne returned with his fam 
 ily to the privacy of his plantation. The 
 British traversed the state, and declared 
 it to be conquered. In the meantime, a 
 military government was established over 
 it, and successive commandants were ap 
 pointed for the administration of its af 
 fairs, who, under Governor Bull, exercised 
 dictatorial powers. Among the most con 
 spicuous of these was Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Balfour, the commandant of Charleston, 
 a vain man, proud of his authority, and 
 solicitous of its exercise a sycophant to 
 the great, and a tyrant to the humble. 
 
 Under the despotic system of govern 
 ment thus inaugurated, there was only 
 one mode left for safety to those unhap 
 py Carolinians who, still devoted to their 
 country s liberties, were yet liable to be 
 torn and tortured through the bosom of 
 their exposed and suffering families. This 
 was to accept of the protection of British 
 power against the aggravated excesses of 
 their own infatuated countrymen. This 
 protection was granted only to those who 
 claimed it as British subjects. 
 
 To this wretched necessity was Colonel 
 Hayne soon reduced. A mean artifice 
 of a British officer seduced him from his 
 plantation to the city, where he was close 
 ly imprisoned, and obtained his release 
 from this duress, at the call of his dying 
 
 wife and of his children, only by subscri 
 bing a declaration to the British crown. 
 This he did, though not without expressly 
 excepting to that clause which required 
 him with his arms to support the royal 
 government ; and he received a verbal as 
 surance that such services would never 
 be required at his hands. " When the 
 regular forces of his majesty," were the 
 words of the British officers, -need the 
 aid of the inhabitants for the defence of 
 the province, it will be high time for them 
 to leave it." But, owing to the various 
 successes of the Americans, they required 
 this aid much sooner than they imagined. 
 
 Hayne, having made his peace with the 
 British government on the only terms 
 which it would admit, had scarcely re 
 turned to his plantation, where he received 
 the last breath of a dying wife, and buried 
 a second one of his children, when he was 
 peremptorily required to join the royal 
 standard ! 
 
 His resolution was that of the patriot. 
 Forced to draw the sword, he drew it in 
 behalf of his country. He repaired to the 
 American camp, recruited his troop, and 
 commenced a career which was destined 
 to be as short as it was spirited. By a 
 sudden dash which he made upon the 
 quarterhouse, an outpost of the enemy in 
 the immediate neighborhood of Charles 
 ton, he succeeded in making General Wil 
 liamson a prisoner. 
 
 This man was a traitor to the state, and 
 his life was forfeited to the gallows. To 
 rescue him from this probable fate, the 
 British commandant in the city ordered 
 out his whole cavalry, which succeeded 
 in overtaking Hayne s party, dispersed it, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 EXECUTION OF COLONEL IIAYNE. 
 
 881 
 
 and rescued Williamson. Unfortunately, 
 Colonel Hayne also fell into their hands. 
 
 He was carried to Charleston, and kept 
 in close custody until Earl Rawdon, leav 
 ing Stewart at Orangeburg, arrived in the 
 city. Hayne was then brought before a 
 court of inquiry. The members of the 
 court upon this examination were not 
 sworn, nor were the witnesses; yet, in con 
 sequence of this examination, "Lord Raw 
 don and the commandant, Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Nesbitt Balfour, resolved upon his 
 execution, for having been found under 
 arms, and employed in raising a regiment 
 to oppose the British government, though 
 he had become a subject, and accepted 
 the protection of that government after 
 the reduction of Charleston." 
 
 Such were the terms and reasons for 
 this decision, which was ordered to be car 
 ried into effect two days after. This sud 
 den, unlooked-for, and unjust sentence, 
 was equally unexpected by the prisoner 
 himself and by the citizens. It was not 
 supposed that a mere court of inquiry 
 could be resolved into one of final trial 
 and cond-emnation. The men of the city, 
 including many British and loyalist resi 
 dents, with Governor Bull at their head, 
 pleaded in his behalf; the women peti 
 tioned in person, and with his little chil 
 dren implored on bended knees for remis 
 sion of the sentence ; but Raw r don and 
 Balfour were inexorable. It has likewise 
 been suggested that Hayne was only a 
 chosen sacrifice to the manes of the vic 
 tim of Arnold s treachery. Balfour en 
 dorsed one of the petitions, offered in be 
 half of Hayne, with the two words, "Major 
 Andre! The unhappy man was less moved 
 111 
 
 than his fellow-citizens and friends. He 
 expressed no alarm at the event, nnd only 
 requested the existing authorities to ac 
 commodate the mode of his execution to 
 a soldier s feelings ; but this was denied 
 him, and he perished on the scaffold. 
 
 The proceedings in his case were obvi 
 ously parallel to those of Andre. Attend 
 ed by thousands of spectators, gloomy and 
 sad as by an impending calamity to them 
 selves, he walked to the place of doom. 
 His carriage was firm, manly, and unos 
 tentatious. To his eldest son, a lad about 
 thirteen years of age, on the morning of 
 the fatal day, he delivered all the papers 
 which were connected with his fate, and 
 gave his final instructions as to the dis 
 position of his remains. Ascending the 
 scaffold, he parted from his friends with 
 the simple assurance that he would en 
 deavor to show them " how an American 
 should die ;" and, with that unshaken res 
 olution which had distinguished his de 
 portment throughout the painful scene, 
 he himself gave the signal which hurried 
 him into eternity. 
 
 The execution of Hayne greatly an 
 gered the whole country. General Greene 
 himself determined to revenge the out 
 rage, and wrote: "It is my intention to 
 demand the reasons of the colonel s bein; 
 
 O 
 
 put to death ; and if they are unsatisfac 
 tory, as I expect they will be, to publish 
 my intention of giving no quarters to 
 British officers, of any rank, that fall into 
 our hands." 
 
 Unsatisfied by the explanations which 
 were offered by the British commander, 
 Greene subsequently issued a proclama 
 tion, in which he declared it to be his res- 
 
882 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART II. 
 
 olute purpose " to make reprisals for all 
 such inhuman insults as often as they 
 take place." This proclamation was in 
 duced by the voluntary self-devotion of 
 all the officers of the southern army, who 
 met together and addressed a memorial 
 to the general-in-chief, in which, after de- 
 clarino- what had reached their ears of the 
 
 o 
 
 enormous cruelties practised by the Brit 
 ish, and of the bloody execution which 
 has just been recorded, they recommend 
 measures of immediate retaliation by a 
 similar treatment of all British subjects ; 
 avowing their perfect readiness to abide 
 by a recommendation which, in the event 
 of capture, at once placed themselves en 
 tirely without the pale of mercy from the 
 enemy. " But," concludes this noble doc 
 ument, " we had rather commit ourselves 
 to the most desperate situations than pros 
 ecute this just and necessary war upon 
 terms so dishonorable." 
 
 Fortunately for the cause of humanity, 
 but a little time elapsed after this when 
 the policy of the war rendered unneces 
 sary the adoption of such rigorous meas 
 ures. Still, the American general wore 
 the countenance of one who was inflexible 
 in his determination. A very few days 
 after the execution of Ilayne, Marion s 
 cavalry captured three British officers 
 with an enemy s party ; and the affair of 
 the Eutaw placed in the hands of Greene 
 a prisoner sufficiently distinguished to 
 awaken all the apprehensions of Balfour 
 for his safety .* 
 
 General Greene was disappointed of his 
 expected reinforcements. Wayne, with 
 his Pennsylvanians, had been held back 
 
 * Simms. 
 
 by Washington, who reserved him for the 
 more important field of action at York- 
 town. Only five hundred of the three 
 thousand five hundred North-Carolinians 
 promised had come forward, and these 
 were without arms. The seven hundred 
 mountaineers from beyond the Allegha- 
 nies, under Colonel Shelby, of Virginia, 
 had turned back, under the supposition 
 that Greene was too strong to need them. 
 General Sumter, being ill and displeased, 
 had retired from the service, leaving but 
 a small remnant of his band, under the 
 command of Colonel Henderson. The 
 patience of Greene was exhausted. " We 
 must have victory or ruin !" was the em 
 phatic expression of his eagerness to be 
 on the move. 
 
 The partisan corps, however, had not 
 been idle during this repose of the main 
 body upon the " benign" hills of the San- 
 tee. Colonel Washington had been doing 
 effective service in the country bordering 
 on the lower Santee, in which he cap 
 tured two bodies of the enemy s horse. 
 Colonels Lee and Henderson, crossing the 
 Congaree with their cavalry, penetrated 
 between the main body of the British ar 
 my and the post at Orangeburg, and, in 
 sight of the latter place, drove in, dis 
 persed, and captured, several of their de 
 tachments. Equally active with these of 
 ficers were Marion and Maharn, together 
 with Harden and his mounted militia, 
 in covering the low country bej^ond the. 
 Edisto. 
 
 Greene, speaking of his cavalry in these 
 expeditions, asserts it to be unexcelled by 
 any in the world. In this guerilla ser 
 vice the Americans soon proved their su 
 
{EVOLUTIONARY.] MOVEMENTS OF GREENE AND STEWART. 
 
 883 
 
 Aug. 22, 
 
 perior activity. Colonel Stewart, having 
 his communications with the interior thus 
 constantly interrupted, and his provisions 
 cut off, was confined to the sole resource 
 of getting his supplies from Charleston, 
 and this became everyday more and more 
 precarious. For every wagon-load of pro 
 visions he paid the price in blood. 
 
 General Greene, having resolved upon 
 action, broke up his camp on the 
 hills of the Santee, crossed the 
 "Wateree near Camden, then the Conga- 
 ree, and, moving along its southern bank, 
 finally reached Howell s ferry, on the lat 
 ter river. While the American 
 Aug. 28, 
 
 general, in consequence of the 
 
 swollen swamps and water-courses, was 
 obliged to make this extensive circuit of 
 more than seventy miles, Stewart took 
 the occasion to fall back to Eutaw springs, 
 some forty miles from his late post, and 
 within about sixty of Charleston, in order 
 to secure a junction with some reinforce 
 ments and provisions on their route from 
 that city. 
 
 The British commander was followed 
 by Colonel Lee, who was pushed forward 
 to watch his movements ; while General 
 Pickens, with the state militia, and Colo 
 nel Henderson, with the remnant of Sum- 
 ter s brigade, advanced with a similar ob 
 ject to the neighborhood of the enemy s 
 post at Orangeburg. These various corps 
 joined the main army of the Americans 
 as it moved slowly down the south bank 
 of the Congaree, toward the old post at 
 Motte s, where Greene, having resolved 
 upon a discontinuance of the pursuit, de 
 termined to await the progress of events. 
 
 This resolution, as it seemed to indicate 
 
 a want of confidence in the American com 
 mander, encouraged the British. Halting 
 upon his ground at Eutaw, Stewart pre 
 pared to meet and fight his enemy. Hav 
 ing withdrawn his garrison at Orangeburg 
 (which he established at Fairlawn), he re 
 called to his aid that which had been sta 
 tioned at the latter post as a foil to Ma 
 rion. This movement he was enabled to 
 make in consequence of the disappear 
 ance of the " Swamp-Fox," who, in one of 
 his secret expeditions, had rapidly crossed 
 the country to Pon-Pon, where Colonel 
 Harden was closely pressed by a British 
 force of five hundred men. 
 
 To pass through both lines of the ene 
 my s communication with Charleston ; to 
 surprise, defeat, and disperse this force, 
 under Major Fraser, numerically superior 
 to his own ; to return by the same route, 
 pass the Santee, put his prisoners in safe 
 ty, and then to advance upon the Eutaw, 
 where he effected a junction with 
 the main army, was but the work 
 of a few days and of ordinary effort with 
 this able warrior. 
 
 At Lamson s place, the point of junc 
 tion with Marion, General Greene left be 
 hind his baggage and tents, and pushed 
 on with greater rapidity until he 
 arrived at Burdell s tavern, with 
 in seven miles of the enemy, with whom 
 he determined to try his strength on the 
 coming morning. 
 
 The general-in-chief, with his usual read 
 iness to share the hardships of the com 
 mon soldier, lay down that night upon the 
 bare ground, with his head resting upon 
 the protruding root of an " ancient China- 
 tree." 
 
884 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 PART II- 
 
 CHAPTER GUI. 
 
 Battle of Eutaw Springs. Comparative Numbers. Order of Battle. The Attack begins. The British Line. The Ke- 
 serve . The Struggle. The Militia give way. Spirit of the North-Carolinians. A Fierce Charge. The Marylanders 
 and Virginians. Fixed Bayonets. Desperate Resistance of the Enemy. Colonel Washington and his Troopers suf 
 fer. Washington receives a Wound. Heaps of Dead and Wounded. The Militia at the Hum-Casks. Sally of the 
 Enemy. General Greene in Possession of the Field of Battle. A Disputed Victory. Death of Colonel Campbell. 
 "I die content." The Prisoners. Major Barry. An Undignified Lift. "The Very Man." Colonel Stewart at 
 Monk s Corner. Greene on the Hills of the Santee. Close of the Campaign in Carolina. 
 
 1781. 
 
 NEXT morning, at the early hour 
 of four, the American troops were 
 on the march to attack the enemy. Gen 
 eral Greene s force was small, amounting 
 to only two thousand men. That of the 
 British numbered twenty-three hundred. 
 The former had the superiority in caval 
 ry, the latter in general discipline as well 
 as in numbers. 
 
 Greene led on his troops in 
 Sept, 8, 
 
 two columns. Ihe first, com 
 posed of the militia of North and South 
 Carolina,, was commanded by Marion and 
 Pickens, and Colonel de Mulmedy. The 
 second, comprising the continental troops 
 from North Carolina, Virginia, and Mary 
 land, were led on by General Simmer, 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell, and Colo 
 nel Otho Williams. Lee, with his legion, 
 covered the right flank ; and Henderson, 
 with the troops of Sumter, the left. Colo 
 nel Washington, with his cavalry, and Cap 
 tain Kirkwood, with the Delawares, com 
 posed the reserve. Two pieces of artil 
 lery moved at the head of each column. 
 So completely had the detached par 
 ties of the Americans cut off those of the 
 British, that the advance of their army 
 
 was unsuspected. The only patrol had 
 been captured during the night; and so 
 entirely secure did Stewart esteem him 
 self in his position, that an unarmed par 
 ty of a hundred men had been sent out 
 to gather sweet potatoes. 
 
 Two deserters from Greene s army con 
 veyed to the British commander the first 
 intelligence of the approach of the Amer 
 icans ; and Captain Coffin, at the head of 
 his cavalry, was sent out, as well to recall 
 the "potato-rooting" party, as to recon 
 noitre the Americans and cover the par 
 ty. When the American advance had ar 
 rived within four miles of the enemy s 
 camp, it was encountered by the detach 
 ment of horse and foot, about two hundred 
 strong, under Coffin, who charged it at 
 once with a confidence which showed his 
 ignorance of its strength, and of the great 
 er force of which it was the precursor. 
 He was quickly repulsed by the Ameri 
 cans, who charged briskly in turn, killed 
 several, took forty prisoners, and put the 
 rest to flight. The firing alarmed the po 
 tato-diggers, who all fell into the hands 
 of the Americans. 
 
 In the meantime, Stewart pushed for- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 BATTLE OF EUTAW SPRINGS. 
 
 885 
 
 ward a detachment of infantry, in order 
 to keep the Americans employed while 
 he prepared for battle. But Greene, per 
 suaded by the audacity of Coffin that his 
 party formed the van of the British, im 
 mediately halted and formed his troops 
 for action, in two lines, which was readily 
 effected from the line of march. The col 
 umn of militia, when displayed, composed 
 the first ; the South-Carolinians, in equal 
 divisions, being on the right and left, and 
 the North-Carolinians in the centre. Ma 
 rion commanded the right, Pickens the 
 left, and Colonel de Malrnedy the centre. 
 The continentals formed the second line, 
 with the Virginians, under Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Campbell, on the right ; the Ma- 
 rylanders, under Williams and Howard, 
 on the left; and the North-Carolinians, 
 under Sumner, in the centre. Lee and 
 his legion covered the right flank ; and 
 Colonel Henderson, with the state troops, 
 including Sumter s brigade, the left. Colo 
 nel Washington, with his cavalry, and the 
 Delawares of Kirk wood, under cover of 
 the adjoining woods, formed the reserve. 
 Two three-pounders were posted in front 
 of the first line, and two sixes in the same 
 position in the second. 
 
 Thus formed, the troops marched for 
 ward, but slowly, as the ground was cov 
 ered with wood, until within a mile of 
 the enemy s camp, when they encount 
 ered a strong detachment of infantry. 
 The American van, however, spiritedly 
 attacked this advanced body, and drove 
 it back to the British line, which Stewart 
 in the meanwhile had drawn up for bat 
 tle about two hundred rods west of the 
 Eutaw springs. 
 
 The British troops were arrayed in a 
 single line, in a wood. Their right was 
 composed of the third regiment ( " the 
 Buffs"), resting on the Eutaw creek ; the 
 remnant of Cruger s brave royalists was 
 posted in the centre ; and the left, formed 
 of the veteran sixty-third and sixty-fourth 
 regiments, extended across the Charleston 
 road. Major Marjoribanks, with three hun 
 dred choice light-infantry, was posted in 
 the thickets which bordered the Eutaw 
 creek, so as to cover the right, and watch 
 the flank of the Americans, should it be 
 opened at any time to attack. The ar 
 tillery was distributed along the line ; 
 and a corps of reserve, consisting of Cof 
 fin s cavalry and a detachment of infantry, 
 was so posted, under cover of the wood, 
 as to support the left and command the 
 Charleston road. 
 
 At a few hundred paces in the rear of 
 the line were some cleared fields, where 
 the tents of the British encampment still 
 remained standing, and bounded on the 
 north by the creek flowing from Eutaw 
 springs. This creek is a bold one, having 
 a high bank, thickly bordered with brush 
 and undergrowth. From the dwellin-- 
 
 o o 
 
 house on the premises to this bank ran a 
 garden enclosed with palisades ; and the 
 windows of the house, which was two sto 
 ries high, with garret-rooms, commanded 
 the entire adjoining fields. The house 
 was strongly built of brick, and surround 
 ed with the usual tenements of stables, 
 outhouses, and barn, the latter standing 
 
 7 O 
 
 at a short distance to the southeast of the 
 dwelling. 
 
 The Americans approached from the 
 west. Their large superiority in cavalry 
 
880 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 made the house a point of great impor 
 tance to the British commander, who ac 
 cordingly gave orders to Major Sheridan 
 to occupy it at the first symptom of de 
 feat, and to cover the army from the up 
 per windows. 
 
 The American front line pressed on 
 with loud shouts after the enemy s re 
 tiring detachment which it had first met, 
 until it found itself engaged with the en 
 tire British line. The day was fair, and 
 intensely hot ; but the action opened in 
 a wood, the shade of which afforded some 
 relief to the combatants. 
 
 The battle was begun with great spirit, 
 and the carnage was severe. The field- 
 pieces on both sides were dismounted ; 
 and the struggle was manfully sustained 
 by the militia, whose valor and unflinch 
 ing perseverance, amid the continued fal 
 ling of their comrades around them, won 
 the admiration of both armies. Unfalter 
 ingly they stood their ground until they 
 had discharged seventeen rounds, when 
 they gave way before a general move 
 ment of the enemy in advance. 
 
 General Sumner now came up with the 
 North Carolina regulars of the second line, 
 who made such an impression by their 
 spirited onset upon the enemy, that Colo 
 nel Stewart was compelled to bring up 
 the infantry of his reserve on his left 
 The engagement between these two fresh 
 corps now became hot. At length, Sum- 
 ner s brigade, after sustaining the conflict 
 with numbers far superior to its own, also 
 fell back. 
 
 Elated at this result, and conceiving 
 the victory to be sure, the British rushed 
 forward in pursuit, and their line in con 
 
 sequence became deranged. At this im 
 portant crisis, the American commander 
 ordered up Williams and Campbell, with 
 the Marylanders and Virginians, to the 
 rescue, and to sweep the field with their 
 bayonets. This order was obeyed with 
 promptness ; the two brigades received 
 it with a shout, and advanced with a de 
 gree of impatience which scarcely heeded 
 the deliberate and measured guidance of 
 their officers. When within thirty yards 
 of the enemy, they delivered a destruc 
 tive fire, and the whole body, with trailed 
 arms, rushed forward to the charge, ap 
 parently unmoved by the stream of lire 
 that blazed incessantly before them. 
 
 Nothing could surpass the intrepidity 
 of both officers and men on the occasion. 
 They continued to press firmly on with 
 out flinching through a heavy shower of 
 cannon and musket balls, until they bore 
 down all before them. The enemy s ad 
 vanced left recoiled beneath the desper 
 ate resolution of this charge. Their dis 
 order became visible, and was confirmed 
 by the prompt movement of Colonel Lee. 
 Wheeling the legion infantry round from 
 its position on the extreme right flank, he 
 poured in upon the British left and rear 
 a close enfilading fire, and their confusion 
 became irretrievable. 
 
 Colonel Henderson was wounded early 
 in the action, and, while the command was 
 being shifted to Colonel Hampton, the 
 state troops became momentarily disor 
 dered, but soon recovered themselves and 
 made a spirited charge, in which they 
 took a hundred prisoners. 
 
 The British troops on the left were 
 now put to total rout, and, as their officers 
 
REVOLUTIONAKY.] 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED REVERSE. 
 
 strove to rally them, Colonel Washington 
 brought up his reserve and prevented 
 their efforts to reform. The centre and 
 right of the enemy still remained much 
 more numerous than the American, and 
 awaited the threatened charge with a con 
 stancy that seemed unshaken. But the 
 disorder and flight of the left had its ef 
 fect upon the other divisions of the army ; 
 and the pressure of the fugitives from the 
 left upon the centre, imparted a portion 
 of their panic to the rest of their compan 
 ions. The advance of the Marylanders, 
 at this lucky moment, helped to increase 
 the confusion of the foe. The former de 
 livered their fire with deliberation and 
 fatal effect, and the enemy yielded along 
 their whole front. 
 
 Completely triumphant, as they now 
 supposed themselves, the Americans pur 
 sued the enemy back through the open 
 fields, and strove to cut them off from the 
 brick house, to which the fugitives natu 
 rally turned their eyes. Successful in this, 
 the victory would have been complete; for 
 the great loss which the foe had sustained 
 must have compelled his surrender, unless 
 he could secure this shelter, which was 
 now his object. It was in striving to de 
 feat this object that the Americans sus 
 tained their greatest loss; and the affair, 
 which so far had promised a glorious vic 
 tory, ended in the complete disappoint 
 ment of the conquering army, and the 
 temporary defeat of its proudest hopes. 
 
 At this stage of the battle, Major Mar- 
 joribanks. from the cover of the thickets 
 on the borders of the creek, still showed 
 fight, and kept up a harassing fire upon 
 the Americans. General Greene saw that 
 
 he must be dislodged from this position, 
 and despatched Colonel Washington to 
 perform the duty ; but his cavalry got so 
 entangled and separated in the woods, 
 that it was impossible for it to charge, and 
 each horseman was thus left to defend 
 himself apart from his comrades against 
 the whole corps of infantry. An attempt 
 to gain the enemy s rear was still more 
 disastrous. This unequal struggle soon 
 proved fatal to Washington and his dra 
 goons. The colonel himself received the 
 thrust of a bayonet, and would have been 
 slain, had he not been saved by a British 
 officer and taken prisoner. Hardly one 
 of Washington s officers escaped death or 
 a wound ; while the ground was strewn 
 with the horses and troopers, either dead 
 or struggling in the last agonies. Mar- 
 joribanks still held his ground, although 
 Hampton had come up to the rescue of 
 the cavalry. Kirkwood s Delawares now 
 made an impetuous rush with the bayo 
 net, to revenge their fallen companions, 
 and succeeded in expelling the British 
 from this strong position. But Marjori- 
 banks retired slowly, still holding on to 
 the thickets, and making for a new posi 
 tion, of nearly equal strength, behind the 
 palisades of the garden. 
 
 Here the British army had partly ral 
 lied, though nothing could well exceed 
 the terror in its encampment. Every 
 thing was given up for lost. The com 
 missaries destroyed their stores ; and the 
 numerous retainers of the army, mostly 
 loyalists and deserters, who dreaded fal 
 ling into the hands of the American, seiz 
 ing the horses wherever they might be 
 found, lied in terror, carrying consterna- 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART 11. 
 
 tion where they went, even down to the 
 gates of Charleston. Their alarm might 
 not have been groundless, had it not been 
 for the misfortunes of the Americans, in i 
 the losses of Washington s cavalry, and 
 the rash pursuit, by the infantry, of the 
 disordered British. 
 
 By the time that Marjoribanks had 
 gained the palisades, Major Sheridan had 
 thrown his troops into the house ; and 
 some of the routed companies from the 
 British left had made good their retreat 
 into the picketed garden, from the inter 
 vals of which they could fire with secu 
 rity and effect. 
 
 The whole British line was now in full 
 flight before the American bayonet. The 
 retreat of the enemy lay directly through 
 their own encampment, where their tents 
 were all standing, and a thousand objects 
 scattered around in grateful profusion, 
 which, to the famished troops of Greene, 
 were too tempting to be withstood. Fa 
 tigued, and almost naked, panting with 
 heat, and suffering from thirst at the 
 same time believing their victory to be 
 secure the pursuing Americans fell in 
 to acts of insubordination, to which the 
 fire of the British from the contiguous 
 buildings eminently contributed. The 
 shelter of the tents from this fire became 
 an excuse of which these brave men did 
 not scruple to avail themselves : and here 
 happened one of those miserable reverses 
 which so often baffle equally the calcula 
 tions of wisdom and the deeds of valor ; 
 here the American line got into irretriev 
 able confusion. Its officers, nearly aban 
 doned by their soldiers, became conspic 
 uous marks for the British in the house, 
 
 who now poured their fire with deadly 
 aim from its windows. In vain did they 
 seek to rescue their men from the bane 
 ful consequences which had folio wed their 
 entrance into the encampment : they had 
 dispersed without order among the tents, 
 had broken open the casks of rum, and 
 drunk so freely, that they became lost to 
 all sense of discipline, and utterly unman 
 ageable. 
 
 The British officers promptly availed 
 themselves of this miserable condition of 
 things. Marjoribanks and Coffin made 
 simultaneous movements; the one from 
 his thicket on the left, the other with his 
 dragoons from the wood on the right of 
 the American line. General Greene saw 
 the danger which threatened him, and 
 strove to avert it by ordering Lee to fall 
 upon Coffin. That officer, however, not 
 being within reach, having probably dis 
 appeared in pursuit of fugitives, his subor 
 dinate, Major Eggleston, hurried up with 
 a few troopers of the legion, and made 
 an onset upon the enemy s cavalry ; but 
 his force was too small to make the de 
 sired impression, and he was driven back 
 by Coffin, who immediately after hastened 
 to charge the rear of the Americans, now 
 dispersed among the tents. Here, how 
 ever, he encountered Hampton, who was 
 advancing to the relief of Eggleston, and 
 by him was successfully charged and beat 
 en in turn. After a severe struggle, the 
 British cavalry was forced back to its cov 
 er within the wood. 
 
 A moment after, the command of Colo 
 nel Hampton was almost annihilated by a 
 fire from the picketed garden, where Mar 
 joribanks had concealed himself. This 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 KESULTS OF THE BATTLE OF EUTAW. 
 
 889 
 
 skilful officer, to whom the British army 
 chiefly owed its safety, having dispersed 
 the cavalry of Hampton, proceeded to the 
 performance of another movement, which 
 was decisive of the strife. 
 
 The British artillery, which had been 
 captured by the Americans when they 
 swept the field, had been brought up and 
 opened upon the brick house, where the 
 enemy were strongly sheltered. Unfor 
 tunately, in the hurry of the fight, the 
 pieces had been brought too near the 
 house, and were commanded by its fire, 
 which very soon killed or disabled all the 
 artillerists. As soon as Marjoribanks had 
 scattered Hampton s cavalry, he sallied 
 into the field, recaptured the pieces, and 
 hurried them under cover. Then, being 
 reinforced by parties from the house and 
 garden, he charged the Americans, scat 
 tered among the tents, drove them before 
 him, and bayoneted some of the soldiers 
 who were still clinging to the rum-casks 
 lying about. The fugitives found safety 
 only in the cover of the wood, where the 
 army of Greene had rallied ; and the Brit 
 ish, too much crippled to venture into con 
 flict beyond the shelter of the house and 
 outbuildings, slowly fell back upon their 
 position. 
 
 General Greene, having possessed him 
 self of the field of battle, left a strong 
 picket-guard there, and withdrew with 
 the rest of his troops to the encampment 
 (since there was no nearer place to find 
 water), some seven miles distant, whence 
 he marched in the morning. 
 
 Thus ended the severe engagement of 
 the ELI taw, in which both parties claimed 
 the victory. There is no diflicLilty, how- 
 112 
 
 ever, in settling the question of dispute 
 between them : the advantage remained 
 with the patriots. The British were driven 
 from the field of battle at the point of 
 the bayonet, and took refuge in a fortress. 
 So closely had they been pressed, and so 
 narrow was their escape, that a forward 
 party of the Americans was only prevent 
 ed from entering with them by a sudden 
 closing of the doors in the face of some 
 of their own officers and men, who were 
 taken prisoners in consequence, and inter 
 posed by the captors as shields for the 
 protection of their persons while retreat 
 ing under the mouths of the musketry 
 which lined the windows. The results of 
 the action are undoubtedly as we have 
 given them, but the details are subjects 
 of considerable question. " The partisans 
 of the South," says Siinms, " were espe 
 cially dissatisfied with the reports of the 
 affair. That they did their duty well is 
 undeniable. They make, however, an un 
 favorable report of the performances of 
 other parties of whom the official report 
 speaks favorably. It is very certain that, 
 in the management of the conflict, there 
 were many mistakes, if not much bun 
 gling." 
 
 The loss on both sides was very heavy. 
 The Americans lost about five hundred 
 (a fourth of their whole force), including 
 sixty officers ! Among the killed was the 
 brave Colonel Campbell, of Virginia, who 
 fell as he was leading on his brigade. 
 Like the great Wolfe at Quebec, under 
 similar circumstances, he asked with his 
 expiring breath, " Who flies ?" and when 
 told that the British were giving way, hn 
 exclaimed, " I die content " 
 
890 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n, 
 
 The loss of the enemy was about eleven 
 hundred, comprising nearly one half of 
 their entire force ! The loss of British 
 officers was also very severe, but not so 
 great as that of the Americans. Colonel 
 Stewart himself was wounded, and Major 
 Marjoribanks, who had so highly distin 
 guished himself during the day, died of 
 fever during the march to Charleston. 
 The spot where he lies buried is still 
 shown by the roadside. To the descend 
 ants of his enemies he is indebted for a 
 tornb covering his remains. 
 
 General Greene carried off no less than 
 four hundred and fifty British prisoners. 
 Among these was Major Barry, " a dapper 
 little gallant," and the secretary of Bal- 
 four, the commandant of Charleston. His 
 capture is thus humorously related by the 
 biographer of Greene: 
 
 "Barry fell into the hands of Lieuten 
 
 ant Manning, of Lee s legion. 
 
 Manning, 
 
 finding the upper windows [of the brick 
 house] to be full of British musketeers, 
 about to measure his person with their 
 muzzles, did not scruple to seize Barry, 
 and, before the astonished Briton could 
 conceive his purpose, to hoist him upon 
 his shoulders. Thus covered with the 
 scarlet of a British uniform, with the per 
 son of one of their officers completely cov 
 ering his own, the lieutenant reasonably 
 calculated that he should interpose a suf 
 ficient physical as well as moral reason 
 why he should not incur the penalty of 
 a shower of British bullets. It was in 
 vain that Barry interposed in the lan 
 guage of offended dignity : < Sir ! said he, 
 sir, I am Henry Barry; I am deputy- 
 adjutant of the British army; captain in 
 
 Sept, 
 
 his majesty s fifty-second regiment; sec- 
 retary to the commandant of Charleston/ 
 &c. ; major of, &c. The very man Iwaz 
 in search of, answered Manning. I am 
 delighted to make your acquaintance ! 
 Fear nothing, Adjutant Barry, fear noth 
 ing. It is my policy to take care of you. 
 and I am determined you shall take care 
 of me : we must, in times like these, take 
 care of each other. And so saying, the 
 stalwart lieutenant strode off with his 
 captive to the American line."* 
 
 If further proof were needed to estab 
 lish the claim of the Americans to victo 
 ry, it was found in the events of 
 the day succeeding the engage 
 ment. Colonel Stewart, leaving his dead 
 unburied, and seventy of his wounded to 
 the humanity of General Greene, break 
 ing the stocks of one thousand muskets, 
 and destroying his stores, abandoned his 
 position, and retreated with precipitation 
 before his enemy. 
 
 The Americans advanced within five 
 miles of him to Ferguson s swamp, where 
 he made his first halt. It was Greene s 
 intention to have renewed the action the 
 next day ; and he despatched Marion and 
 Lee to watch the line of communication 
 between the Eutaws and Fairlawn, where 
 the British had a strong force, under Colo 
 nel M Arthur, so as to prevent the junc 
 tion of this body with the enemy s main 
 army. The simultaneous movement of 
 the two corps of Stewart and M Arthur 
 enabled them to meet at mid-distance, and 
 to outnumber the American detachment. 
 By this movement, their junction was se 
 cured on the evening of the day after the 
 
 * Simms. 
 
EVOLUTIONARY.] GREENE PURSUES. THE BRITISH AGAIN ADVANCE. 
 
 891 
 
 battle, and their retreat immediately con 
 tinued. 
 
 General Greene pressed the pursuit du 
 ring the whole of one day, but without 
 
 success. The escape of Stewart 
 Sept, 10, 
 
 was secured for the time, and 
 
 the American general was compelled to 
 forego his object, and yield his earnest 
 attention to the prisoners and wounded 
 in his hands. 
 
 The British wounded narrowly escaped 
 capture by Marion. This vigilant parti 
 san, learning that they had been shipped 
 at Fairlawn for Charleston, descended the 
 country rapidly by night, and would have 
 intercepted them, but for a slave of one 
 of the plantations, who gave intelligence 
 of his movements to the British. This 
 brought out a strong detachment against 
 him from the camp, and he was obliged 
 in turn to steal away and avoid intercep 
 tion. 
 
 Returning from the pursuit of Colonel 
 Stewart, Greene recrossed the San tee, and 
 resumed his position at the hills. His mi 
 litia soon left him. Only one hundred of 
 the North-Carolinians now remained, and 
 their term of service had nearly expired. 
 Marion, Pickens, and Hampton, with the 
 South-Carolina militia, were necessarily 
 detached to cover the country ; and with 
 his continentals alone he had to perform 
 all the painful and fatiguing services re 
 quired by six hundred wounded, half of 
 whom were prisoners. There was also 
 
 much sickness in camp : and ten 
 Sept, 18, _ _ J 
 
 days alter the battle or liditaw 
 
 the American general would have found 
 it impossible to muster, at headquarters, 
 a thousand men lit for action. 
 
 In the meanwhile, intelligence reached 
 the South that Cornwallis contemplated 
 a return from Virginia to the Carolinas 
 by land ; and Colonel Stewart, having re 
 cruited his army from below, and made 
 his cavalry far superior to that of his op 
 ponents, once more advanced to the Eu- 
 taws, driving Marion and Hampton across 
 the San tee. But in this movement the 
 enemy exhibited little vigor, and the de 
 tachments of the patriots soon presented 
 themselves tauntingly before their posts, 
 but failed to bring them forth. Subse 
 quently, while the British lay at Monk s 
 Corner, Captain Maham, of Marion s bri 
 gade, captured one of their positions, and 
 took eighty prisoners, in the face of their 
 whole army. 
 
 Dunns;; the illness of Colonel Stewart, 
 
 O s 
 
 who was still suffering from his wound re 
 ceived at Eutaw, the command devolved 
 upon Major Doyle (afterward a general 
 in the British service in India), who took 
 post at Fludd s plantation, three miles 
 above Nelson s ferry, with more than two 
 thousand men, exclusive of the three hun 
 dred under M Arthur at Fairlawn. This 
 force, so superior to that of Greene, gave 
 to the enemy the undivided command of 
 the country to the south of the Santee 
 and Congaree,and westward to theEdisto. 
 But this superiority did not long con 
 tinue. Greene s army was recruited by 
 Colonels Shelby and Sevier with five hun 
 dred riflemen from the mountain region, 
 and a hundred and sixty infantry came 
 from North Caroliiwa. The artillery de 
 stroyed at Eutaw had been replaced from 
 Virginia, and the cavalry (so essential in 
 such a country) was greatly augmented. 
 
892 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 In two months from the battle of Eutaw, 
 the American general was in a capacity 
 to act. Marion, with Sevier, Shelby, Hor- 
 ry, and Mali am, was ordered to operate 
 between the San tee and Charleston; Suin- 
 ter, with his brigade of state troops, and 
 some companies of militia, was ordered to 
 take post at Orangeburg, and defend the 
 country against the loyalists from the 
 city; while Pickens, with two regiments, 
 maintained the frontier from the Indians, 
 and covered it against the predatory war 
 fare still raging in that quarter. 
 
 In the beginning of November, Sumter 
 and Marion crossed the rivers and moved 
 against the enemy. The former soon en 
 countered a strong body of tories, under 
 General Cunningham, who had advanced 
 upon Orangeburg ; and one of his officers, 
 a Major Morris, fell into an ambuscade, in 
 which he sustained some loss. The forces 
 of Sumter and Cunningham, being nearly 
 equal, operated as mutual checks upon 
 each other. The latter, who had issued 
 from Charleston on a predatory expedi 
 tion into the country, was obstructed in 
 his progress ; while the former,, to con 
 tinue this restraint upon his enemy, and 
 secure himself, fell back for the present 
 upon a strong and well-selected position. 
 
 About this period a foray was under 
 taken by William Cunningham, who, by 
 his savage ferocities, had acquired the nom 
 dc guerre of "Bloody Hill" which is gener 
 ally known in Carolina tradition as "The 
 Bloody Scout! Cunningham, with two or 
 three hundred men, made his way from 
 Charleston to the interior. Rendezvous 
 ing at Rogues ford, on the Edisto, his fol 
 lowers spread themselves on every hand, 
 
 and committed the most horrible exces> 
 ses against persons and property. In most 
 cases, they found only defenceless people 
 in their houses. No mercy to age or sex 
 was shown by these wretches. The men 
 were commonly shot or cut down ; the 
 women experienced various brutalities; 
 boys of fifteen were hewn to pieces ; the 
 horses and all moveable property carried 
 off, and, when not moveable, burnt. " The 
 horrid massacres, on Cloud s creek, of Tur 
 ner s troop," says Simnis, from whom we 
 gather the closing details of the southern 
 campaign, " at Edgehill, of Hayes party, 
 where scores of men were butchered at 
 the same moment after capture, are still 
 reported w r ith shuddering by the people 
 of the regions where these terrible atro 
 cities were committed The detailed 
 
 crimes of this bloody scout, as still dwelt 
 upon by the preserving tradition, would 
 crowd a volume." But his banditti was 
 finally dispersed and destroyed, few es 
 caping the red hand of the avenger. The 
 miscreant leader survived the war, and re 
 turned to Europe ; but, in all the region 
 of country thus ravaged, he remains to 
 this day the proverbial monster. His atro 
 cious deeds were indignantly repudiated 
 by the British General Leslie, and also by 
 General Cunningham, the representative 
 of a remote branch of the same family. 
 In the meanwhile, Colonel Stewart was 
 busy ravaging the low country, laying in 
 pro visions for sustaining a siege in Charles 
 ton, and accumulating that plunder with 
 which the enemy s fleet of three hundred 
 sail was laden when they afterward took 
 flight from the waters of Cooper river. In 
 the space of a few weeks, Major Doyle 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] GREENE MOVES TOWARD THE SEABOARD. 
 
 893 
 
 had succeeded in stripping the country on 
 the Santee and Congaree of every negro, 
 and of almost every thing else in the shape 
 of property that could be carried away, 
 and would have extended his ravages be 
 yond those rivers, but that Marion and 
 Hampton guarded their opposite banks. 
 The intelligence of the surrender of 
 Yorktown reached Greene s headquarters 
 about the last of October, and the day 
 w r as observed as a jubilee in the camp, 
 and the grateful tidings increased the de 
 sire of the American general to cross the 
 rivers which separated him from the ene 
 my, and drive them down to the sea. 
 
 The camp at the HiiHi hills of 
 Nov. 18. . 
 
 the ban tee was at length broken 
 
 up, and the American army again put in 
 motion. As the route led away from the 
 support of Marion, who was to guard the 
 left wingon the march, Captain Eggleston, 
 with the legion and a detachment of Vir 
 ginians, was sent to strengthen him. The 
 main army proceeded by the way of Sim- 
 mons s and M Cord s ferries, through Or- 
 angeburg, to Riddlespurger s ; thence by 
 the Indianfield road to Ferguson s mill, 
 where that road crosses the Edisto the 
 intention of Greene being apparently to 
 gain a position on Four Holes, in order to 
 cover the country beyond him, and con 
 trol the movements of the enemy on his 
 right. Another object was to intercept 
 the flight of the British to Savannah, in 
 telligence having been received by Mari 
 on, from Charleston, that such was their 
 design. 
 
 About this time, to the astonishment 
 of all, the mountaineers, in the absence 
 of Colonel Shelby, deserted the camp, af 
 
 ter a service of only three weeks. They 
 had been placed under the command of 
 Marion, who sought to give them suffi 
 cient employment ; but, though his num 
 bers were much inferior, he found it im 
 possible to bring the British into the open 
 field. Detachments of about two hundred 
 of the mountain-men, however, supported 
 by Maham s cavalry, had moved against 
 the redoubts at Wappetaw, which were 
 abandoned at their approach. The same 
 body attacked Fairlawn, while the enemy 
 lay at Wantoot. In passing the latter 
 post, Marion showed himself, but did not 
 succeed in decoying the British cavalry 
 into the field. At Fairlawn, the attack by 
 Colonel Shelby was successful : the place 
 surrendered at discretion ; and the whole 
 garrison, with some three hundred stand 
 of arms, stores, and provisions, fell into 
 the hands of the Americans. The house 
 with its con tents, and the abatiis, were com 
 mitted to the flames. 
 
 The sudden desertion of the mountain 
 eers greatly weakened the army of Gen 
 eral Greene, but he had advanced too far 
 to recede ; Marion had passed the Santee, 
 and any disaster to him would have com 
 pelled an immediate retreat. Greene re 
 solved to act with boldness, and if possi 
 ble force the British commander to retire 
 into Charleston. With this object, he left 
 the army, on its march, under the com 
 mand of Colonel Williams, of Maryland ; 
 and, at the head of two hundred cavalry, 
 and as many infantry, moved briskly tow 
 ard Dorchester. The cavalry consisted 
 of Lee s and Washington s, and one hun 
 dred men drawn from the command of 
 Sumter. The infantry were those of the 
 
894 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PAKT II 
 
 legion, and some of the Virginia and Ma 
 ryland troops. The command of this de 
 tachment was given to Colonel Hampton. 
 
 Greene flattered himself that he should 
 be able to surprise the post at Dorchester; 
 but the enemy, hearing of his approach, 
 lay upon their arms all night. A party 
 which had been sent out to obtain intel 
 ligence was cut to pieces by Hampton s 
 advanced guard, and the survivors hotly 
 pursued close to the enemy s post. The 
 whole British cavalry and a strong force 
 of infantry now issued forth to charge the 
 pursuers, and Greene with pleasure saw 
 their approach; but they recoiled and fled 
 from the fierce onset of Hampton s horse. 
 Twenty or thirty were slain, wounded, or 
 captured ; and such an alarm did the pres 
 ence of Greene in person inspire among 
 them, under the belief that his whole ar 
 my was at hand, that the garrison at Dor 
 chester destroyed everything during the 
 night, threw their cannon into the river, 
 and made a rapid retreat to Charleston. 
 The panic of the enemy increased, their 
 outposts were all abandoned, and their 
 whole force concentrated at the quarter- 
 house, six miles from the city. At this 
 point, where the isthmus is narrow, the 
 fugitives halted, and were joined by Colo 
 nel Stewart, who meantime had been hur 
 rying toward the town by another route. 
 
 General Leslie now succeeded Stewart, 
 and prepared for immediate attack. His 
 force was nearly five thousand men, exclu 
 sive of the negroes which he embodied in 
 regiments, while Greene could not mus 
 ter in all more than eight hundred, but 
 the fears of the fugitives had magnified 
 nis force to more than three thousand. 
 
 Thus driven in from all their outposts, 
 the British were confined in their opera 
 tions to the city, the neck, and the neigh 
 boring islands. The object of General 
 Greene, and all that he could effect, in the 
 feeble condition of his army, was attained; 
 and in January, after an interreg 
 num of nearly two years, Governor 
 Rutledge convened the legislature of the 
 state at Jacksonborough, a little village 
 on the Edisto river, about twenty miles 
 from the sea, and thirty from Charleston. 
 The army, in the meantime, took post at 
 the plantation of Colonel Skirving, some 
 six miles below Jacksonborough, and on 
 the road leading to the city. 
 
 But few military movements occurred 
 during the season. A vain attempt was 
 made to dislodge the British from John s 
 island. In a skirmish on the Combahee, 
 
 the brave Colonel John Laurens 
 
 ,. n TJ T -, . ., Aug. 27. 
 
 fell. He was succeeded in the 
 
 command of the light-troops near Charles 
 ton by Kosciusko.* General Wayne had 
 been sent into Georgia, where he forced 
 the British to abandon their outposts, and 
 
 * After the American war, this illustrious Pole returned 
 to his native country, where he lived in retirement till 17S9, 
 when the diet appointed him. a major-general. In the brief 
 struggle of 1792 he behaved with distinguished valor; hut 
 as soon as the fate of Poland was scaled, he retired into vol 
 untary exile. lie kept up, however, a correspondence with 
 the friends of liberty in his native land; and when, ir. 1794, 
 the Poles resolved to make one more effort to break their 
 chains, they placed Kosciusko at their head. He began his 
 career by defeating the Russian general, Denisoff, at liashi- 
 vice. But the enemy poured in on all sides, and at length, 
 after having for six months delayed the fall of Poland, he 
 was wounded and taken prisoner, on the 4th of October, at 
 the battle of Macciowiee. He was sent to St. Petersburg, 
 and incarcerated until the accession of the emperor Paul, who 
 visited him in prison, embraced him, and set him at liberty. 
 His latter years were spent in America, France, and Swit 
 zerland, but chiefly in France. He died at Soleure, in Swit 
 zerland, October 17, 1817, aged seventy-one years 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 EVACUATION OF CHARLESTON. 
 
 895 
 
 finally to evacuate Savannah, the garrison 
 retiring to Charleston. In September, Sir 
 Samuel Hood arrived, with a convoying 
 fleet, to cover the departure of the British. 
 
 Meanwhile, General Leslie pressed his 
 preparations for the final evacuation of 
 Charleston. Greatly constrained by the 
 cordon which the American general had 
 contrived to maintain around his foe, Les 
 lie, in order to eke out his provisions, suf 
 fered numerous loyalists to leave the city 
 and make their peace with their country 
 men, a privilege of which hundreds readi 
 ly availed themselves. He also expelled 
 from the town all those who were alleged 
 to favor the American cause. 
 
 Having levelled the walls of the town 
 and of Fort Johnson, the British command 
 er opened a communication with General 
 Greene, apprizing him of the intended 
 evacuation, and proposing terms, in order 
 that his departure might be a peaceable 
 one. An arrangement accordingly fol- 
 
 o o / 
 
 lowed, by which the Americans w r ere to 
 take possession as the enemy s rear-guard 
 retired ; the former pledging themselves 
 to forbear all hostile attempts upon the 
 movements of the British, on condition 
 that they should do no injury to the city. 
 On Saturday, the 14th of December, 
 1782, this event took place. The morn 
 ing gun was the signal for the British rear 
 guard to abandon its advanced redoubts. 
 General Wayne, at the head of three hun 
 dred infantry, the cavalry of the legion, 
 and a detachment of artillery, with two 
 six-pounders, having been sent from the 
 American army, had crossed Ashley river 
 the previous night, and was stationed in 
 readiness to follow up the enemy. 
 
 At the sound of the morning gun, the 
 two parties were put in motion, at an as 
 signed distance asunder of two hundred 
 yards. They moved down the King-street 
 road, till they had passed the lines, when 
 the British filed off to Gadsden s wharf, 
 where they embarked in boats that await 
 ed them. " It was a grand and pleasing 
 sight," says General Moultrie in his me 
 moirs, " to see the enemy s fleet, upward 
 of three hundred sail, lying at anchor from 
 Fort Johnson to Five-Fathom Hole, in a 
 curve-line, as the current runs ; and what 
 made it more agreeable, they were ready 
 to depart." 
 
 The reluctance of the one party to leave, 
 and the impatience of the other to succeed 
 them in the possession of the city, led the 
 British, now-and-then during the march, 
 to cry aloud to General Wayne that he 
 was pressing too rapidly upon them a 
 proceeding highly characteristic of "Mad 
 Anthony? who fully sympathized with the 
 natural impatience of the Carolinians to 
 behold those dear homes from which they 
 had been so long exiled.* Wayne moved 
 forward, and halted on the south side of 
 Broad street, nearly opposite to Church. 
 Next to the American advance came Gov 
 ernor Rutledge and General Greene, es 
 corted by two hundred cavalry, and fol 
 lowed by the council and long troops of 
 officers and citizens on horseback, amid 
 the acclamations of the populace."}* 
 
 * At the close of the war, General Wayne retired to his 
 native state of Pennsylvania. In 1737, he was a member of 
 the state convention which ratified the constitution of the 
 United States. In 1792, he succeeded to the command of 
 the western army on the defeat of St. Clair, and gained a 
 comjlete victory over the savages at the battle of the Mi- 
 anris, in 1794. He died iu 1796, at the age of fifty -one. 
 
 \ Simms. 
 
896 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 CHAPTER CIV. 
 
 Lord Cornwallis from Portsmouth to YorUtown.- Description of Yorktown. Its Defences. Confidence of his Lordship. 
 A Change. Arrival of a French Fleet. Skilful Manoeuvres of Lafayette Contemptuous Indifference of Cornwal 
 lis. Arrival of Count de Grasse. Landing of Troops. Junction with Lafayette. Cornwallis shut up by Sea and 
 
 Land. A Desperate Expedient. Hopeful of Aid. Washington s Plans. Proposed Attack upon New York. The 
 
 Scheme abandoned. A Ruse. The March to Virginia. The British at New York kept in the Dark. March of the 
 Allies. Entrance into Philadelphia. Appearance of the American Troops. The "Gay artel Glorious" French. 
 Admiration of the Ladies. A Grand Review. The French Minister. A Public Dinner. Good News. "Long live 
 Louis XVI.!" The Grumbling Americans. Out of Pocket. A Windfall. Progress of the March southward. 
 Arrival at the Head of the Elk, Washington at Mount Vernon. Old Virginian Hospitality. Washington at Wil- 
 liamsburg. The Allies before Yorktown. 
 
 1781, 
 
 LORD CORNWALLIS having, in ac 
 cordance with the instructions of 
 Sir Henry Clinton, again landed at Ports 
 mouth the detachment of troops about to 
 sail for New York, moved his whole force, 
 consisting of about seven thousand men, 
 
 to Yorktown. This small place, 
 Aug. 22, , L 4r i 
 
 situated on I ork river, was se 
 lected as a good defensive post, and one 
 capable of affording protection to ships- 
 of-the-line. Sir Henry, with this purpose 
 in view, had suggested Yorktown, or Old 
 Point Comfort, as a point d appui for the 
 coming campaign in Virginia. By the 
 advice of his naval officers and engineers, 
 the earl chose the former. On the north 
 and opposite side of the river, which was 
 a mile wide, and of sufficient depth for 
 large vessels, was Gloucester Point, which, 
 like Yorktown, had a high and command 
 ing position. His lordship now proceed 
 ed to fortify both places (at the former 
 of which was stationed Colonel Tarleton 
 and a part of his legion), and with such 
 satisfactory progress, that, confident of 
 his security, he soon wrote to Sir Henry 
 
 Aug. 30. 
 
 Clinton, offering to send a detachment of 
 a thousand men to the aid of New York, 
 then threatened, as was supposed, by an 
 attack from Washington. 
 
 Earl Cornwallis was, however, suddenly 
 aroused from his sense of security by the 
 arrival in the Chesapeake of Ad 
 miral Count de Grasse, with a 
 French fleet of twenty-eight sail-of-the- 
 line and several frigates, having upward 
 of three thousand troops on board. The 
 young marquis Lafayette, a ware of Wash 
 ington s designs against the enemy in Vir 
 ginia, and prepared by early intelligence 
 for this arrival of his countrymen, had in 
 the meantime skilfully manoeuvred to co 
 operate with them. His object was to 
 cut off the escape of Cornwallis by land, 
 while the French fleet should close up 
 his egress by sea. 
 
 Lafayette had made every disposition 
 of his force necessary to his purpose with 
 out exciting the suspicion of Cornwallis, 
 who, intent upon his fortifications, regard 
 ed his young antagonist almost with con 
 teinptuous indifference. Having sent the 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 ARRIVAL OF COUNT DE GRASSE. 
 
 897 
 
 Pennsylvania troops, commanded by Gen 
 eral Wayne, to the south side of James 
 river, under the feint of attacking Ports 
 mouth, and collected a large militia-force, 
 the marquis himself inarched to Williams- 
 burg, in order to form a junction with the 
 French troops as soon as they should land. 
 
 On the arrival of Count de Grasse, he 
 was met off Cape Henry by an officer de 
 spatched by Lafayette to inform him of 
 the exact state of affairs in Virginia. De 
 Grasse, guided by this information, imme 
 diately sent four ships-of-the-line to block 
 ade York river, and to convey the land- 
 troops to James river, where Lafayette 
 was awaiting them. Nothing occurred to 
 mar these designs so skilfully laid. Corn- 
 wallis found himself shut up by sea, and 
 obstructed on land by the combined forces 
 of Lafayette and the marquis de St. Si 
 mon, who, taking post at Williamsburg, 
 kept close watch upon his lordship. The 
 earl was at last conscious of his danger, 
 and would have striven to break through 
 the toils which had been so artfully woven, 
 and to force his way into North Carolina, 
 had he not hoped that such aid would 
 soon reach him from Sir Henry Clinton 
 as to render so desperate an expedient 
 unnecessary. In the mean time, Washing 
 ton, in his camp in New Jersey, was seal 
 ing the fate of his unconscious lordship. 
 Let us now turn to the North. 
 
 When intelligence was first received of 
 the intention of Count de Grasse to sail 
 from the West Indies to the United States 
 with his powerful fleet, Count de Rocham- 
 beau, who had also received despatches 
 from the French court, requested a per 
 sonal interview with Washington, to con- 
 113 
 
 May 18, 
 
 cert a plan of action for the approaching 
 campaign. The latter suggested Weath- 
 ersfield, in Connecticut, as the place of 
 meeting, and the 22d of May as the time 
 Accordingly, the commander-in-chief set 
 out from headquarters, at New 
 Windsor, accompanied by Gen 
 erals Knox and Du Portail, and met Ro- 
 chambeau and the marquis de Chastellux 
 at the time agreed upon. A French frig 
 ate had recently arrived at Boston, hav 
 ing on board the count de Barras, who 
 was appointed to succeed the deceased 
 Admiral de Ternay in the command of 
 the French fleet at Newport, and he was 
 expected to join the conference at Weath- 
 ersfielcl, but the appearance of a British 
 squadron off Block island prevented his 
 attendance. 
 
 At that interview, the respective com 
 manders, being as yet ignorant of the in 
 vasion of Virginia by Lord Cornwallis, 
 discussed the propriety of a joint expe 
 dition to the Carolinas. The difficulties 
 of such an expedition, at that time of the 
 year, when the sickly season was about 
 to set in at the South, were fully consid 
 ered, and it was agreed that an effective 
 blow might be made by the combined ar 
 mies for the recovery of the city of New 
 York, which would at the same time re 
 lieve the southern states. It was finally 
 determined, as a preliminary step toward 
 opening the campaign, that the entire 
 land-force of the French (whose infantry 
 had remained in repose at Newport for 
 nine months), with the exception of about 
 two hundred, who were to be left as a 
 guard over their heavy baggage at Provi 
 dence, should march with all despatch to 
 
 i, 
 
898 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPART n. 
 
 join Washington s army at the Highlands 
 of the Hudson, and at a proper time the 
 united force was to move toward New 
 York. 
 
 The commander-in-chief at once sent 
 letters to Governor Livingston, of New- 
 Jersey, and the executive authorities of 
 New England, urging them to provide 
 immediately the quotas of men and sup 
 plies which had been voted by their re 
 spective states. General Rochambeau, in 
 the meanwhile, despatched a messenger 
 to the West Indies, to inform the count 
 de Grasse of the proposed attack upon 
 New York, and to solicit the co-operation 
 of his fleet. 
 
 Toward the close of June, while the 
 French troops were moving through the 
 western part of Connecticut, on their way 
 to the Hudson, Washington made strong 
 preparations to oppose the British on York 
 island and in Westchester county. He 
 planned a joint expedition against Colo 
 nel Delancey s corps of loyalists stationed 
 at Morrisania, and the military works on 
 the upper end of the island. The duke 
 de Lauzun, with his fine cavalry-legion, 
 was to conduct the former; and General 
 Lincoln, with detachments from the main 
 army, had charge of the latter. But the 
 enemy were on the alert. 
 
 Lincoln, with a force of eight hundred 
 men, went down from the camp 
 at Peekskill, in boats propelled 
 by muffled oars. At the same time, leav 
 ing his baggage, Washington followed on 
 land with the main army, and encamped 
 at Phillipsburg, near Dobbs s ferry, nearly 
 twelve miles from the north end 
 
 July 1, 
 
 July 4, 
 
 of York island. Lincoln, accom 
 
 panied by one or two officers, crossed to 
 Fort Lee, on the western bank of the 
 Hudson, to reconnoitre Fort Washington 
 from the cliffs of the Palisades, when he 
 discovered a British encampment on the 
 upper end of the island, and a vessel-of- 
 war lying in the river, off Spuyten-devil 
 creek. He at once saw that a surprisal 
 of the enemy s forts was impossible ; and, 
 accordingly, landing his troops, he took 
 possession of the high grounds lying to 
 the northeast of Harlem river, with the 
 intention of offering aid to the duke de 
 Lauzun. 
 
 In this position, Lincoln was attacked 
 by a fo raging-party, numbering about fif 
 teen hundred men. A desultory skirmish 
 followed ; and De Lauzun, who had just 
 arrived at Eastchester, hearing the sound 
 of cannon, hastened forward to meet his 
 American ally. Washington likewise ad 
 vanced, and the British, believing that 
 the whole force of the Americans was ap 
 proaching, fled to their boats, and retired 
 in haste to their camp. The surprise of 
 Delancey s corps being regarded 
 as improbable, Washington with 
 drew to Dobbs s ferry, at which place he 
 was joined by General Rochambeau. 
 
 The American and French forces now 
 encamped among the verdant and beau 
 tiful hills of Greenburg, near Tarrytown, 
 about thirty miles from New York. The 
 former, who lay in two lines, had their 
 right resting on Dobbs s ferry, and ex 
 tending eastward toward the Neparan or 
 Sawmill river ; and the latter encamped 
 in a single line upon the hills still farther 
 to the east, with their left resting on the 
 river Bronx. In this position they re- 
 
 July 0. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] MOVEMENTS OF THE ALLIES NEAR NEW YORK. 
 
 mained upward of three weeks, without 
 making any movement of importance. 
 
 In the meantime, the invasion of Vir 
 ginia by Lord Cornwallis had caused great 
 alarm throughout that and the adjoining 
 states ; and the American chief received 
 urgent letters, earnestly imploring him to 
 advance southward with a powerful force, 
 and expel the earl and his followers. The 
 time for such an expedition, however, had 
 not yet come. 
 
 Washington, accompanied by Rocham- 
 beau and other French officers, now pro 
 ceeded to the summit of the Pali- 
 July 18, 
 
 sades, for the purpose or recon 
 noitring the British posts on the north 
 end of York island. On the following 
 day, they took a view of those at Kings- 
 bridge ; and it was resolved that a force 
 of five thousand Americans and French, 
 commanded by Generals Lincoln and De 
 Chastellux, should occupy a line across 
 the entire county of Westchester from the 
 Hudson to the East river, in order to cover 
 an extended reconnoissance, break up the 
 haunts of the tories, and confine Colonel 
 Delancey s corps of marauders within the 
 British lines. 
 
 This important movement was begun 
 with great secresy on the evening of the 
 21>st, the three separate columns moving 
 simultaneously toward York island, while 
 detachments of infantry scoured the fields 
 between the lines of march. Before day 
 break the entire force confront- 
 Jtily 22. 
 
 ed the British on the upper end 
 
 of the island. The flashing of the arms 
 of the allies in the beams of the morning 
 sun was the first intimation which the 
 enemy had of the movement. 
 
 While the British were held in check 
 by this strong force, Washington and Ro- 
 chambeau, with their respective attend 
 ants, effected a complete reconnoissance 
 from the Hudson to Long-island sound ; 
 and in the meantime the American light- 
 troops, and De Lauzun s lancers, broke up 
 every post of the loyalists and refugees. 
 Having made a thorough and scientific 
 reconnoissance of the whole ground, the 
 allied troops returned to their respective 
 encampments among the Greenburg hills 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton became alarmed at 
 this movement, and despatched a message 
 to Lord Cornwallis, directing him to order 
 three of the regiments in South Carolina 
 to sail immediately for New York, and to 
 hold a portion of his own troops in readi 
 ness for the same destination. On hear 
 ing of this requisition, Washington made 
 
 the following comment in a let- 
 
 Julv 30, 
 
 ter to Lafayette: "I think we 
 
 have already effected one part of the plan 
 of the campaign settled at Weathersfield ; 
 that is, giving a substantial relief to the 
 southern states, by obliging the enemy to 
 recall a considerable part of their forces 
 from thence." 
 
 With great anxiety, and some degree 
 of impatience, the commander -in -chief 
 had waited for the recruits and supplies 
 which had been voted by several of the 
 state legislatures ; and again he 
 addressed a circular letter to the 
 governments of the New-England states, 
 imploring them in the most urgent man 
 ner to be prompt and generous in send 
 ing on the required aid, for without it the 
 enemy must triumph, and the allies be 
 come disappointed and disgusted. "It 
 
 August 2, 
 
900 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATiT II. 
 
 Avill be no small degree of triumph to our 
 enemies," added Washington, " and will 
 have a very pernicious influence upon our 
 friends in Europe, should they find such 
 a failure of resource, or such a want of 
 energy to draw it out, that our boasted 
 and expensive preparation end only in 
 idle parade." 
 
 About this time, intelligence was re 
 ceived from Lafayette that " thirty trans 
 port-ships, full of troops, most of them 
 red-coats, and eight or ten brigs with cav 
 alry on board," had arrived in Hampton 
 roads. A despatch was also received from 
 Admiral Count de Grasse, stating that he 
 expected to sail from St. Domingo on the 
 3d of August, with nearly thirty ships-of- 
 the-line and a considerable land-force, di 
 rectly for Chesapeake bay, and that his 
 stay must be short. 
 
 On receiving this information, Wash 
 ington changed his plans. The scheme 
 against New York was abandoned, as be 
 ing too perilous without the aid of the 
 expected French fleet and troops. Be 
 sides this, early in the month, 
 Augusts, J 
 
 feir Henry Clinton had received 
 
 a reinforcement of nearly three thousand 
 troops, British and Hessians. Strength 
 ened by this arrival, the baronet, as we 
 have seen, countermanded his orders for 
 Lord Cornwallis to send a portion of the 
 southern troops northward, as he deemed 
 his own force amply sufficient for the de 
 fence of New York. 
 
 It was therefore resolved by Washing 
 ton and Rochambeau to concur with the 
 plans of De Grasse, and, proceeding with 
 the allied armies southward, strike a blow 
 against the British in Virginia. Robert 
 
 Aug. !7, 
 
 Morris, the great financier, and Richard 
 Peters, the active secretary of war, were 
 at headquarters at the time. Af 
 ter informing them of his reso 
 lution, Washington turned to Peters, and 
 asked, " What can you do for me in aid 
 of this expedition ? I may want," he add 
 ed, "a month s pay in advance for some 
 of the troops." " With money, everything 
 without it, nothing" quickly replied Peters, 
 at the same time casting a significant 
 glance at Robert Morris. The financier 
 comprehended the meaning of that look, 
 and said, "Let me know the sum you 
 desire." Washington soon completed his 
 estimates ; and when the troops passed 
 through Philadelphia, not long afterward, 
 Morris, upon his own responsibility, bor 
 rowed twenty thousand dollars in specie 
 from Rochambeau, promising to replace it 
 by the first of October. With assurance 
 of aid, the commander-in-chief prepared 
 immediately for the southward march. ::: 
 This change of purpose was, however, 
 carefully concealed from the enemy; and. 
 to keep up the idea that New York was 
 still his object, Washington wrote mislead 
 ing letters, which he intended should be 
 intercepted ; had ovens built, fuel collect 
 ed, and a large encampment marked out 
 for his army in New Jersey, near Amboy, 
 and opposite to Staten island. In the 
 meantime, the allied armies, having com 
 pleted their preparations to move to Vir 
 ginia, began their inarch. The 
 pretence of an attack upon New 
 York was kept up to the last moment. 
 Reconnoitring and pioneer parties were 
 sent forward to examine and clear the 
 
 * Lossintr. 
 
 luff, 19, 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE ALLIED TROOPS IN PHILADEPHIA. 
 
 901 
 
 roads from the encampment at the Green- 
 burg hills toward Kingsbridge ; and when 
 the troops were paraded for the march, 
 they faced in that direction. They were, 
 however, much to the surprise and per 
 plexity of their own officers, who were in 
 ignorance of the chief s designs, imrnedi- 
 
 o O * 
 
 ately ordered to the right about, and pro 
 ceeded up the Hudson to King s ferry at 
 Verplanck s Point, where they crossed to 
 New Jersey. 
 
 The secret of Washington s design was 
 kept as strictly from his own army as 
 from the enemy. " Our destination," as 
 Timelier records, " has been for some time 
 matter of perplexing doubt and uncer 
 tainty. Bets have run high, on one side, 
 that we were to occupy the ground mark 
 ed out on the Jersey shore, to aid in the 
 siege of New York; and, on the other, 
 that we are stealing a march on the ene 
 my, and are actually destined to Virginia, 
 in pursuit of the army under Lord Corn- 
 wallis." Seven years later, Washington 
 wrote a letter to Noah Webster, in which, 
 after admitting the finesse employed to 
 "misguide and bewilder Sir Henry," he 
 added, "Nor were less pains taken to de 
 ceive our own army, for I had always con 
 ceived when the imposition does not com 
 pletely take place at home, it would never 
 sufficiently succeed abroad." 
 
 Leaving General Heath in command 
 of a sufficient guard for the posts in the 
 Highlands, the allied armies began their 
 movement across New Jersey, under the 
 general charge of Lincoln, the American 
 troops marching one day in ad 
 vance of the French. They pro 
 ceeded by different routes, and were far 
 
 Au.ff, 25. 
 
 Sept, 3, 
 
 on their way in rapid march toward the 
 Delaware before Sir Henry Clinton sus 
 pected their destination to be other than 
 Staten island and New York. 
 
 On the seventh day after leaving the 
 Hudson, the Americans crossed the Dela 
 ware, and entered Philadelphia, followed 
 on the next day by the French. 
 
 "The streets being extremely 
 dirty," says Timelier, " and the weather 
 warm and dry, we raised a dust like a 
 smothering snowstorm, blinding our eyes 
 and covering our bodies with it. This 
 was not a little mortifying, as the ladies 
 were viewing us from the open windows 
 of every house as we passed through this 
 splendid city Our line of march, inclu 
 ding appendages and attendants, extend 
 ed nearly two miles. The general officers 
 and their aids, in rich military uniform ; 
 mounted on noble steeds elegantly capari 
 soned, were followed by their servants 
 and baggage. In the rear of every bri 
 gade were several fieldpieces, accompa 
 nied by ammunition-carriages. The sol 
 diers marched with slow and solemn step, 
 regulated by the drum and fife. In the 
 rear followed a great number of wagons, 
 loaded with tents, provisions, and other 
 baggage, such as a few soldiers wives and 
 children ; though a very small number of 
 these are allowed to encumber us on this 
 occasion." 
 
 The entry of the French troops was 
 characteristically gay and glorious. Hav 
 ing halted a short distance from the city, 
 in order to furbish up their uniforms "of 
 white broadcloth, faced with green" (the 
 colors of the old house of Bourbon), they 
 marched in, with a full band of music pre- 
 
902 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 Sept, 4, 
 
 coding them, to the manifest admiration 
 of the people who crowded the streets, 
 and of the ladies who "appeared at the 
 windows in their most brilliant attire." 
 
 A grand review took place on 
 the following day, when " at least 
 twenty thousand persons, and a vast num 
 ber of carriages, remarkable for their light 
 ness and elegance, added to the lustre of 
 this exhibition which was still height 
 ened," adds the ardent Frenchman* who 
 describes the scene, " by the pleasantness 
 of the situation and the remarkable se 
 renity of the day." 
 
 The day "was destined for favorable 
 omens," continues the same warm color- 
 ist. " M. le chevalier de la Luzerne, who 
 on this occasion received his countrymen 
 with the dignity and generosity of the 
 representative of a great monarch, and 
 the frankness and cordiality of an indi 
 vidual, after the review invited all the 
 officers to dine with him. Hardly were 
 we seated at the table, when, an express 
 arrived. A disquieting silence immedi 
 ately seized every guest ; our eyes were 
 fixed on the chevalier de la Luzerne, ev 
 ery one endeavoring to guess what the 
 message would turn out to be. Thirty- 
 six ships-of-the-line, said he, commanded 
 by Monsieur le comte de Grasse, are ar 
 rived in Chesapeake bay, and three thou 
 sand men have landed, and opened a com 
 munication with the marquis de Lafay 
 ette. Joy and good humor immediately 
 resumed their place on every counte 
 nance." The news soon spread through 
 out the city, and the people hurried in 
 crowds to the residence of the minister 
 
 * Quoted )v Thacher. 
 
 of France, shouting, "Long live Louis 
 XVI. !" 
 
 The American army, however, did not 
 share fully in this gay enthusiasm. The 
 New-England troops grumbled at being 
 marched at such a distance to the South 
 while their pay was in arrears. As be 
 fore related, a loan of twenty thousand 
 dollars was obtained from Rochambeau s 
 military chest, on a promise of repayment 
 on the first of October, which gave tem 
 porary relief. Fortunately, at this mo 
 ment, Colonel John Laurens, who had 
 been sent to France as American agent 
 to solicit a loan, returned with abundant 
 supplies and half a million of dollars in 
 specie. Moreover, he brought intelligence 
 of a successful negotiation with France 
 and Holland for a large sum in addition. 
 The zeal and ability with which the ne 
 gotiation was conducted by the American 
 envoy deserve more than a passing allu 
 sion. 
 
 Colonel John Laurens, a son of Henry 
 Laurens (ex-president of Congress, who 
 was long confined in the Tower of Lon 
 don), was made a prisoner on the surren 
 der of Charleston to the British, and re 
 leased on parole. He arrived in Paris in 
 the spring of 1781, and immediately en 
 tered upon the duties of his mission with 
 all the ardor of his nature. He soon be 
 came impatient of the delays which he 
 experienced on the part of the French 
 ministry. In earnestly pressing his suit 
 one day with Count de Vergenues, that 
 adroit diplomat reminded him that per 
 haps he had forgotten that he was not de 
 livering the orders of his commander-in- 
 chief, but addressing the minister of a 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 WASHINGTON VISITS MOUNT VERNON. 
 
 903 
 
 monarch who had every disposition to fa 
 vor his country. Laurens withdrew to 
 the opposite side of the room, and replied 
 with emphasis : " Favor, sir ! The respect 
 which I owe to my country will not ad 
 mit the term. Say that the obligation is 
 mutual, and I cheerfully subscribe to the 
 obligation. But, as the last argument I 
 shall offer to your excellency, the sword 
 which I now wear in defence of France, 
 as w r ell as of my own country, unless the 
 succor I solicit is immediately accorded, 
 I may be compelled within a short time to draw 
 against France, as a British subject ! I must 
 now inform your excellency that my next 
 memorial will be presented to his majesty 
 in person." This bold reply had a great 
 effect upon Vergennes, for the reconcilia 
 tion of Great Britain and the United States 
 was an event he most dreaded. True to 
 his promise, Laurens attended at the au 
 dience-chamber of the king the next day, 
 and presented his memorial in person to 
 his majesty. It was handed to Count Se- 
 gur, and on the following day Laurens 
 was officially informed that the required 
 aid should be given. That succor, as we 
 have seen, now came to hand at a most 
 important crisis, and in two short months, 
 by the aid of French funds, and French 
 soldiers arid seamen, Lord Cornwallis was 
 to be captured, and the death-blow given 
 to British power in America.* 
 
 While in Philadelphia, Washington re 
 ceived despatches from Lafayette, in form 
 ing him of the destination of Cornwallis s 
 
 o 
 
 flotilla seen in Hampton roads, with the 
 assurance that he should make every ex 
 ertion to prevent the earl from moving 
 
 Sept, 5, 
 
 Sept, 6, 
 
 into the interior. The French minister 
 had as yet received no intelligence of the 
 count de Grasse, and Washington in con 
 sequence felt much anxiety. Yet he did 
 not hesitate to advance. Both 
 armies left Philadelphia in the 
 morning, for the Head of Elk. Toward 
 evening Washington was met by a cou 
 rier, bringing the glad tidings that the 
 
 o O O O 
 
 French admiral with his great armament 
 had arrived in the Chesapeake. The mes 
 senger reached the chevalier de Luzerne, 
 at Philadelphia the same evening, as be 
 fore related, while his guests were at the 
 banquet-table. 
 
 The commander-in-chief arrived at the 
 Head of Elk (the narrow, upper end of 
 Chesapeake bay, which is called 
 Elk river) in the evening, with 
 the intention of embarking the troops, ord 
 nance, and stores, at that point, and send 
 ing them down the bay. There was a 
 great lack of transports for the purpose, 
 and the troops were therefore brought to 
 a halt. While the armies were thus de 
 layed, Washington improved the oppor 
 tunity of making a flying visit to Mount 
 Vernon. Accordingly, attended by Ro- 
 chambeau, he rode to Baltimore, 
 where the two chiefs were greet 
 ed with a public address, and honored by 
 bonfires and illuminations in the evening. 
 
 Early the next morning, Washington 
 set out for Mount Vernon with a single 
 aid-de-camp (Colonel Humphreys), with 
 the determination of reaching his home 
 that night, for upward of six years had 
 passed since he had been beneath its roof 
 "The journey was accomplished," writes 
 Lossing, " and great was the joy at Mount 
 
004 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 Yernon when the news spread over the 
 estate that the master had come home. 
 The servants flocked in from the fields 
 to see him, and among them came Bish 
 op, the venerable body-servant, who had 
 lived with Washington since the bloody 
 battle of the Monongahela, twenty-six 
 years before, but who was now, at the age 
 of almost fourscore years, too decrcpid to 
 follow his master to the field." 
 
 "It was a late hour," says Ir 
 ving, " when Washington arrived 
 at Mount Yernon ; where he was joined 
 by his suite at dinner-time on the follow- 
 
 Scpt. 9, 
 
 ing day, and by the count de Rochambeau 
 in the evening. General Chastellux and 
 his aids-de-camp arrived there on the llth, 
 and Mount Yernon was now crowded with 
 guests, who were all entertained in the 
 ample style of old Yirginia.ii hospitality. 
 On the 12th, tearing himself away once 
 more from the home of his heart, Wash 
 ington with his military associates contin 
 ued onward to join Lafaj^ette at Williams- 
 burg." On this occasion he was attend 
 ed by Mrs. Washington s son. John Parke 
 Custis, who now for the first time went 
 to the field, as one of the chief s aids. 
 
 CHAPTER CY. 
 
 Hoodwinking of Sir Henry Clinton. Aroused too late. Fair Promises. Arrival of Sir Samuel Hood. A British Fleet. 
 Arrival off the Capes of Virginia. Sight of the French Ships. Eagerness of the Count do Grasse. Admiral Graves 
 gives Battle. Manoeuvring. Do Grasse returns to the Chesapeake, and Graves to New York. Inversion by Sir Henry 
 Clinton. Expedition against New London, in Connecticut. General Arnold in Command. Fort Griswold. Colonel 
 Ledyurd. Spirited but Vain Resistance. Fall of the Fort. No Mercy. Massacre. Murder of Ledyard. Losses. 
 New London in Ashes. Last Act of Arnold. His Departure for England. Impatience of De Grasse. Magna 
 nimity of Lafayette. Arrival of Washington. The Villc de Paris. Meeting of the Allied Commanders. Arrival of 
 the Combined Troops at Williamsburg. Their Orderly March. A New and Threatening Danger. De Grasse is in 
 duced to remain. The Siege of Yorktown commenced. 
 
 1781. 
 
 WASHINGTON, by his skilful ma 
 noeuvring, had succeeded in so com 
 pletely hoodwinking Sir Henry Clinton, 
 that the combined armies, as previously 
 shown, had proceeded on their march as 
 far as the Delaware before he was per 
 suaded that Earl Cornwall!* at Yorktown 
 was their object. Sir Henry, in fact, had 
 been so impressed with the delusion that 
 an attack upon New York was intended, 
 that even after Washington and Rocham- 
 beau had crossed the Hudson into New 
 
 Jersey, he believed that this move was 
 only a feint to divert him from their real 
 purpose. When he was fairly conscious 
 of the truth, it was too late for him to 
 send the desired assistance to Cornwallis, 
 although at the last moment he wrote to 
 his lordship, declaring that he would do 
 his utmost for his relief. 
 
 A prospect of aid was, however, pre 
 sented by the arrival of Sir Samuel Hood 
 at New York from the West Indies, with 
 fourteen ships-of-the-line. Hood was now 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] GRAVES AND DE GRASSE. ARNOLD IN CONNECTICUT. 
 
 905 
 
 joined by five ships then lying in the har 
 bor, under Admiral Graves, who, being the 
 senior officer, assumed the general com 
 mand, and bore away without 
 delay, with the intention of first 
 intercepting the count de Barras, with 
 the French squadron from Newport, and 
 then attacking Admiral de Grasse, in the 
 Chesapeake. As Graves sailed down the 
 southern coast, he first looked into the 
 Delaware, but, finding no enemy there, 
 continued his course to the capes of Vir 
 ginia, where he discovered the French 
 fleet, lying just within Lynn-Haven bay. 
 Count de Grasse, slipping and even cut 
 ting his cables, in his eagerness, came out 
 at once ; and when his fleet of twenty-four 
 ships showed itself, Graves, who had only 
 nineteen vessels to oppose him, and knew 
 that De Barras could not be far off with 
 the h wport squadron, became nervously 
 anxiov s. The English admiral, however, 
 gave the signal for battle, and his ships 
 stretched in ; but when his rear was near 
 ly even with the enemy s van, he made 
 the signal for the whole fleet to wear, by 
 which he got upon the same tack with 
 his antagonist, and to windward almost 
 parallel with him. The two fleets now 
 steered to the eastward, and, as they got 
 clear of the capes of Virginia, Graves bore 
 down upon De Grasse. At four 
 o clock in the afternoon, the ac 
 tion commenced, but did not become gen 
 eral, as only a few 7 of the vessels were en 
 gaged, and at night the fleets separated. 
 The French, whose advance-ships had suf 
 fered considerably, bore away to get in a 
 line with their centre. Graves kept the 
 weather-gage during the night; but, as 
 114 
 
 Sept, 5, 
 
 some of his ships had been severely dam 
 aged, he was obliged to lay to for repairs. 
 The Terrible, of seventy-four guns, leaked 
 so badly, that in a day or two after she 
 was abandoned and burnt. It was also 
 with great difficulty that the Ajax was 
 kept afloat, as she made water rapidly. 
 
 The two fleets remained at sea for five 
 days, without renewing the action, when 
 De Grasse again bore away for the Ches 
 apeake, taking two English frigates on his 
 return, and having the satisfaction on ar 
 riving at his old anchorage to find Count 
 de Barras safely moored there with his 
 Newport squadron of seven ships-of-the- 
 line and fourteen transports, laden with 
 artillery and stores. Graves looked into 
 the bay, and, seeing the increased strength 
 of his enemy, returned with his crippled 
 fleet to New York, for he feared the equi 
 noctial gales, that might be daily expect 
 ed, more than the guns of his powerful 
 adversary. In this action, the loss of the 
 French was two hundred and twenty men, 
 and that of the English three hundred 
 and thirty. 
 
 When Sir Henry Clinton discovered the 
 real intentions of Washington, he strove 
 to divert him from his purpose by an at 
 tack upon New London, in Connecticut. 
 Two British regiments, a battalion of loy 
 alist volunteers from New Jersey, and a 
 detachment of Hessian riflemen (yagers), 
 numbering about twenty-three hundred 
 in all, were embarked at New York for 
 the service ; and the command of this ma 
 rauding expedition against the state which 
 had given him birth was intrusted to the 
 arch-traitor, Benedict Arnold, as being an 
 enterprise not only suited to his military 
 
906 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 genius, but also to the malevolence of his 
 heart. 
 
 Arnold accordingly sailed up the river 
 Thames, and appeared off New London, 
 only fourteen miles south of Norwich, the 
 birthplace of the traitor. Here, dividing 
 his forces, he debarked one division, un 
 der Lieutenant-Colonel Eyre, to 
 Sept 6 attack Fort Griswold, on the east 
 side of the harbor ; and landed with the 
 other, under his own command, on the 
 west side, where stood Fort Trumbull, a 
 redoubt, and, three miles below, the town 
 of New London itself. The fort and re 
 doubt were abandoned, on the first ap 
 proach of Arnold, by the few militiamen 
 in them, who crossed the river to Fort 
 Griswold, on Groton hill. The renegade 
 pushed on, and quickly possessed himself 
 of the town, being opposed only by a scat 
 tered fire here and there from small par 
 ties of the inhabitants who were hastily 
 collected in defence of their homes. 
 
 Fort Griswold, which was a strongly- 
 built, square fortification, with all the ac 
 cessories of a regular work, and contained 
 a garrison of nearly two hundred men, 
 commanded by the spirited Colonel Wil 
 liam Ledyard, offered a resistance which 
 was not so easily overcome. The defend 
 ers were inexperienced militiamen, who 
 had been so hastily mustered, that many 
 of them were unprovided with firearms. 
 But, under the inspiration of their brave 
 leader, they fought with great resolution. 
 Colonel Eyre, however, led on his regu 
 lars and loyalists to the assault on three 
 sides with a determination to carry the 
 works at any sacrifice. His men were for 
 a time staggered by the persistent cour 
 
 age of the gallant little garrison. Eyre 
 himself was mortally wounded ; but Ma 
 jor Montgomery, his second in command, 
 continued the assault with equal resolu 
 tion. His men thronged into the ditch, 
 scrambled over the ramparts, and made 
 their way through the embrasures, until, 
 by the force of numbers, they carried the 
 works, though not without a heavy cost, 
 Montgomery was shot dead as he was en 
 tering one of the embrasures, and the loss 
 of the enemy amounted in all to forty-six 
 killed and one hundred and forty-three 
 wounded. 
 
 The Americans had only about half a 
 dozen killed when the enemy thronged 
 into the fort. The assailants, exasperated 
 by the obstinate resistance which they had 
 encountered, and their heavy loss, now 
 showed little mercy. Major Brornfield, a 
 New- Jersey loyalist, who succeeded to the 
 command on the death of Eyre and Mont- 
 gomerv, on entering the fort, asked fierce- 
 
 o ^ ~ 
 
 ly, " Who commands ?" Colonel Ledyard 
 replied, "I did, sir, but you do now," giv 
 ing up his sword as he spoke, which Brom- 
 field took, and with it ran him through 
 and killed him ! The Hessians and tories, 
 following the example of their miscreant 
 leader, immediately began an indiscrimi 
 nate massacre of the disarmed garrison, 
 and the slaughter which ensued increased 
 the American loss to eighty-five killed and 
 sixty wounded. Seventy only were taken 
 prisoners. This horrible butchery justly 
 excited the indignation of the republicans 
 throughout the land, and disgusted the 
 more conservative and humane portion 
 of the loyalists. 
 
 Arnold, on reaching New London, re- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY. J NEW LONDON BURNT. WASHINGTON IN VIRGINIA. 
 
 907 
 
 duced the town to ashes. Several vessels 
 in the harbor were also burnt, while the 
 rest escaped up the Thames. Large sup 
 plies of West-India produce, together with 
 an immense quantity of military stores, 
 were consumed in the general conflagra 
 tion, which not only ruined most of the 
 inhabitants, but proved a serious loss to 
 the public. 
 
 In its spirit and execution, the whole 
 expedition was unworthy of Sir Henry 
 Clinton, but entirely in consonance with 
 the character of the traitor-knave who 
 conducted it. " It has been said." writes 
 his biographer, "that Arnold, while New 
 London was in flames, stood in the belfry 
 of a steeple, and witnessed the conflagra 
 tion ; thus, like Nero, delighted with the 
 ruin he had caused, the distresses he had 
 inflicted, the blood of his slaughtered coun 
 trymen, the anguish of the expiring pa 
 triot, the widow s tears, and the orphan s 
 cries. And what adds to the enormity 
 is, that he stood almost in sight of the 
 spot where he drew his first breath ; that 
 every object around was associated with 
 the years of his childhood and youth, arid 
 revived those images of the past which 
 kindle emotions of tenderness in all but 
 hearts of stone." ::: 
 
 Arnold, having gratified his malignant 
 spirit, and committed all the evil which 
 lay in his power, returned with his Van 
 dal mercenaries to New York. It was, 
 fortunately, one of the closing acts of his 
 career in America, being the last military 
 service of any consequence in which he 
 was employed ; and it served only to ren 
 der still darker the shades which his foul 
 
 * Sparks. 
 
 treason had thrown over his name. He 
 soon went to England,* and quitted the 
 United States for ever, where his memory 
 will probably outlive that of good men ; 
 for nations, like individuals, are more con 
 stant in hate than in love. 
 
 The marauding expedition to Connect 
 icut, however, as we have seen, utterly 
 failed in its object, since Washington was 
 not for a moment stayed in his course by 
 these outrages, but pressed forward to 
 Virginia. 
 
 On the return of Admiral Graves from 
 the coast of Virginia to New York, Count 
 de Barras, at the request of Lafayette, de 
 spatched transports up the Chesapeake to 
 bring down the allied troops which, it will 
 be remembered, were detained at Annap 
 olis and the Head of Elk for the want of 
 vessels. Meanwhile, in the even 
 
 ing, Washington and Rocharn- 
 
 Sept. 14. 
 
 beau, with their respective attendants, on 
 their way from Mount Vernon, arrived at 
 the quarters of Lafayette, at Williams- 
 burg, twelve miles above Yorktown. 
 
 Admiral De Grasse had been so impa 
 tient of delay, that, with St. Simon, who 
 commanded his land-force, he urged La 
 fayette to co-operate with him in an at 
 tack on Lord Cornwallis before the arri 
 val of Washington and Rochambeau, and 
 thus secure a victory for the republicans 
 and imperishable renown for himself. But 
 the young marquis, with a generous and 
 humane spirit, repressed his natural ardor 
 for glory, and declined the proposition ol 
 the count; for he saw that such an at- 
 
 * Sec page 274 of this volume. " To Arnold," says Hor 
 ace Walpole, " no countenance was denied by the king or 
 ministers. The public, more equitable, despised him." 
 
908 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 fPAET II. 
 
 tempt, even if successful, would involve 
 a great sacrifice of life. He perceived, 
 moreover, that a victory at this crisis of 
 the war would in all probability give a, 
 finishing blow to the contest. Yet, with 
 characteristic magnanimity, he resolved 
 to leave that victory to be achieved and 
 all honors to be won by Washington ! 
 
 As soon, however, as the commanders- 
 in-chief of the allied land-forces arrived, 
 Count de Grasse solicited an interview. 
 Washington, therefore, accompanied by 
 Rochambeau, Chastellux, Gener 
 als Knox and Du Portail, sailed 
 from Williamsburg in the Queen Char 
 lotte for the Ville de Paris, the magnifi 
 cent flag-ship of De Grasse, then lying in 
 Lynn-Haven bay. They were received 
 on board at noon the next day, when the 
 admiral, a tall, fine-looking man, heartily 
 embraced Washington, with the exclama 
 tion, in broken English, "My dear little gen 
 eral!" This adjective, applied to the stal 
 wart form of Washington (who was over 
 six feet in height, and weighed at this pe 
 riod upward of two hundred pounds), was 
 quite ludicrous ; and, while the polite and 
 courteous Frenchmen concealed their feel 
 ings, the fat sides of jolly Knox, it is said, 
 shook with his laughter.* 
 
 A council of war was now held 
 on board the flag-ship, and meas 
 ures were immediately concerted for re 
 ducing Earl Cornwallis in Yorktown with 
 the utmost promptness, on the arrival of 
 the allied army, as the French admiral 
 declared that he could not remain long 
 or the station. All the arrangements hav 
 ing been completed in a satisfactory man- 
 
 * Custis s Recollections of Washington. 
 
 Sept, 18, 
 
 ner, Washington and his companions re 
 turned to Williamsburg. 
 
 The last division of the allies finally 
 reached the general rendezvous 
 at V/illiamsburg. The march of 
 this army through a fertile country, from 
 the banks of the Hudson to central Vir 
 ginia, a distance of more than five hun 
 dred miles, was remarkable for its order 
 and discipline. "It was at a season," re 
 marks Ramsay, " when the most delicious 
 productions of nature, growing on and 
 near the public highways, presented both 
 opportunity and temptation to gratify the 
 appetite. Yet so complete was its disci 
 pline, that in this long march scarcely an 
 instance could be produced of an apple or 
 a peach being taken without the consent 
 of the inhabitants." The French were 
 particularly scrupulous. At Rhode island, 
 " the Indians," writes De Rochambeau, in 
 his narrative, " expressed their astonish 
 ment at nothing but to see still laden with 
 fruit the trees that overhung the tents 
 which the soldiers had occupied for three 
 months." 
 
 In the meantime, news arrived which 
 threatened to frustrate all Washington s 
 plans. Graves at New York had been re 
 inforced by Admiral Digby, with six ships- 
 of-the-line. De Grasse, confident that ev 
 ery effort would now be made for the re 
 lief of Cornwallis, and that the combined 
 fleet might soon be expected off the Ches 
 apeake, wrote to Washington that, in or 
 der to meet Graves and Digby, he should 
 put to sea with all his fleet, excepting a 
 few frigates which he would leave behind 
 to blockade York river. Fearful lest in 
 the absence of the French, the English 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 SIEGE OF YORKTOWN. 
 
 909 
 
 might slip into their places, and thus wrest 
 Earl Cornwallis from his grasp, Washing 
 ton earnestly besonght De Grasse not to 
 leave the Chesapeake. The French ad 
 
 miral, by the joint entreaties of the Amer 
 ican chief and Lafayette, was finally per 
 suaded to remain, and the siege of York 
 town was begun without delay. 
 
 CHAPTER CVI. 
 
 Advance of the Allied Force. Washington and De Rochambeau before Yorktown. A Bivouac. Position of the Amen 
 cans. Position of the French. Despatch from Sir Henry Clinton. Concentration of the British Force. Confidence 
 of Lord Cornwallis. Labor on the Works. Description of the Defences. The Besiegers take Possession of the Out 
 works. A Skirmish. Death of Colonel Scamme!. De Lauzun s Legion. Conflict with Colonel Tarleton. Search) 
 of Forage. Dead Horses. Tarleton unhorsed. His Retreat. Investment of Yorktown. The French. Their Troops 
 and Position. The Americans and their Position. Governor Nelson s Patriotism. Coolness of Washington. The 
 Breaking Ground. The First Parallel. Gener 1 Lincoln has the Honor. Opening Fire. Washington at the Guns. 
 The Cannonade. First Salutation to Cormv;illis. Hot Shot. Fire among the Ships. A Sublime Spectacle. The 
 Second Parallel. Redoubled Fury. Assault on the Redoubts. Rivalry of the French and Americans. Colonel Al 
 exander Hamilton in the Van. Fall of the Redoubts. " D Auvergne sans Tache." The British Fire. Washington 
 in Danger. " Billy, my Horse!" Desperate Situation of Cornwallis. No Relief. Sortie of the Guards. Bold Ex 
 pedient of his Lordship. Its Failure. Propositions to surrender. Capitulation of Yorktown. Close of the War. 
 
 ,781, 
 
 Sept, 28, 
 
 AT length, the combined armies, 
 numbering twelve thousand strong, 
 under Washington and De Rochambeau, 
 moved by different roads from their en 
 campment near Williamsburg. General 
 de Choise, with the duke de Lauzun and 
 his legion, the marines from De Barras s 
 fleet, arid a brigade of Virginia 
 militia, under General Weedon, 
 proceeded to invest Gloucester ; and the 
 main allied forces, marching to the right, 
 posted themselves toward evening with 
 in two miles of the outer works at York- 
 town. Washington remained upon the 
 ground with his staff during the whole 
 night, sleeping under the cover of a mul 
 berry-tree, and resting his head upon its 
 root for a pillow. 
 
 Early the next morning, the besiegers 
 cautiously closed in toward the outer 
 
 Sept, 29, 
 
 works : the Americans, forming the right 
 wing, taking their post on the east side ; 
 and the French, forming the left, taking 
 
 O 7 o 
 
 theirs on the west. The British pickets 
 and some squads of horse slowly retired 
 as they approached, but not a gun was 
 fired. 
 
 In the evening, an express arrived in 
 the British camp with despatch 
 es from Sir Henry Clinton atNew 
 York, dated on the 24th of September, in 
 forming Lord Cornwallis that, at a coun 
 cil of war held that day, it was resolved 
 to send upward of five thousand troops, 
 with a fleet, to the relief of his lordship ; 
 and that, as Admiral Digby had just ar 
 rived at New York with a squadron of 
 twenty-three ships, the reinforcements for 
 Yorktown might be expected to sail by 
 the 5th of October. That night, the earl 
 
910 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 withdrew his army from the outer works, 
 and concentrated it within his fortifica 
 tions nearer the town, where he confident 
 ly awaited the issue of the siege. In his 
 reply to Sir Henry Clinton, he boastfully 
 declares : "I have ventured, these last two 
 days, to look General Washington s whole 
 force in the face in the position on the 
 outside of my works, and have the pleas 
 ure to assure your excellency that there 
 is but one irish throughout the army, which is, 
 that the enemy would advance I shall re 
 treat this night within the works; and 
 have no doubt, if relief arrives in any rea 
 sonable time, York and Gloucester will be 
 both in possession of his majesty s troops." 
 Lord Cornwallis had been diligent in 
 the construction of his works, which were 
 extensive, though not entirely complete. 
 Seven redoubts and six batteries, connect 
 ed by in trench men ts, surrounded York- 
 town on the land-side ; while field-works 
 stretched beyond, with redoubts and abat- 
 ti-s along the ravines, the creeks, and the 
 York river. Gloucester Point, situated on 
 the tongue of land on the northern and 
 opposite side to Yorktown, was also forti 
 fied, and occupied by Colonel Tarleton 
 and Lieutenant-Colonel Dundas, with a 
 detachment of six or seven hundred men. 
 The communication between the two posts 
 was commanded by batteries on either 
 side, and also by the small British squad 
 ron at anchor, under the land-guns, in the 
 river, which, although only a mile wide 
 at this point, was of sufficient depth for 
 the largest vessels. 
 
 Sept, 30. 
 
 Next morning, the besiegers 
 hastened to possess themselves 
 of the outworks, which had been impru 
 
 dently abandoned by his lordship, accord 
 ing to some military critics; but, in his 
 own opinion, tl e fortifications were too 
 extensive and too weak to be held by his 
 comparatively small force of little more 
 than seven thousand men. As a detach 
 ment of American light-infantry, with a 
 few French troops, were proceeding to 
 take possession of the abandoned field- 
 works, Colonel Alexander Scamrnel ad 
 vanced to reconnoitre, and was attacked 
 by a small party of Hessians. Finding 
 himself outnumbered, he surrendered, but 
 was shot, though not instantly killed, and 
 carried into Yorktown, whence he was al 
 lowed, at the request of Washington, to 
 be conveyed to Williamsburg, where he 
 died. An active and spirited officer, his 
 loss was universally mourned by his com 
 rades, and particularly by the command- 
 er-in-chief, whom he had served as an aid- 
 de-carnp. 
 
 While the main body of the allies was 
 investing Yorktown, the forces under the 
 duke de Lauzun and General de Choise 
 had proceeded across the river, to keep 
 watch on Dundas and Tarleton at Glou 
 cester Point, A collision soon occurred. 
 Forage had become so scarce with the en 
 emy, that they were obliged to kill their 
 horses in great numbers, the carcasses of 
 which were "almost continually floating 
 clown the river." Dundas determined, in 
 spite of the vigilance of his enemy, to 
 make a bold push for relief, and accord 
 ingly sallied out with a part of his garri 
 son to forage the country adjoining. He 
 had succeeded in gathering a good sup 
 ply of Indian corn, and was returning to 
 the post with his wagons and horses laden 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] DE LAUZUN AND TARLETON. GOVERNOR NELSON. 
 
 with the spoil, when De Lauzun and a 
 party of French hussars suddenly sprang 
 upon him. Colonel Tarleton,with his dra 
 goons, formed the rear-guard of the Brit 
 ish, and, coming to the rescue, a severe 
 struggle ensued, in which the loss of the 
 French was two officers and fourteen pri 
 vates, and that of the enemy one officer 
 and eleven men. Tarleton was unhorsed 
 in the engagement, and obliged to sound 
 a retreat, but soon mounted again, and 
 renewed the conflict- when, seeing De 
 Choise coming up with a reinforcement, 
 he retired within his works at Gloucester. 
 Yorktown was now complete 
 ly invested by the allies, whose 
 lines, with the French on the left and the 
 Americans on the right, extended around 
 the southern and land-side of the town in 
 a semicircle, at a distance of nearly two 
 miles from the British works, and with 
 each extremity resting upon York river. 
 The French wing, under the general com 
 mand of De Rochambeau, was composed 
 of the West-India regiments, under the 
 marquis de St. Simon, and the French 
 light-infantry, under the baron de Viome- 
 
 o / * 
 
 nil, assisted by Montmorenci, Deuxports, 
 Custine, and other Frenchmen of rank 
 and military experience. The American 
 wing, under the command of General Lin 
 coln, was composed of the Virginia, Mary 
 land, and Pennsylvania troops, command 
 ed by the baron Steuben ; the New-York, 
 Rhode-Island, and New-Jersey brigades, 
 including the sappers and miners, under 
 GeneralJames Clinton, of New York; and 
 the light-infantry, under Lafayette. The 
 French artillery was posted in the centre, 
 near the quarters of Washington and Ro 
 
 chambeau. On the right, across a marsh, 
 was the American artillery, under General 
 Knox, assisted by Colonel Lamb and oth 
 er skilful officers. The count De Grasse, 
 with his fleet, remained below, in Lynn- 
 Haven bay, to beat off any naval force 
 that might come to the aid of the British 
 commander. 
 
 Governor Nelson, of Virginia, had also 
 brought into the field a goodly number 
 of the state militia, who might have failed 
 in their duty to their country on that occa 
 sion, had it not been for the generous pa 
 triotism of their commander. The treas 
 ury of the state was empty, and the mi 
 litia were threatening to disband for want 
 of pay, when " Nelson learned that an old 
 Scotchman, named R , had a consid 
 erable sum in gold, which like most other 
 moneyed persons of that period, he kept 
 carefully concealed. The governor wait 
 ed upon the man of gold, a rara avis in 
 those times, and begged and prayed for 
 
 a loan on behalf of the state. R was 
 
 inexorable, saying, l l ken nacthing o your 
 goovernment, but if ye ivutt liae Ihe siller for 
 yourset) general, dell tak me but every bawlec 
 of it is at your service / Nelson accepted 
 the offer, and obtained on his own bond, 
 and by his own personal influence, a loan 
 for the state of Virginia, when that promi 
 nent state had neither a coin in her treas 
 ury nor credit to obtain one. The gov 
 ernor received the gold, and quickly did 
 its circulation give a new and cheering 
 aspect to our destinies at that momentous 
 period. And now," continues Mr. Custis, 
 " it would be naturally asked, Who paid 
 the bond and its accumulated interest ? 
 Posterity would answer, A grateful and 
 
912 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART n. 
 
 admiring country, surely. Say, rather, 
 the impoverished family of the patriot"* 
 
 The erection of two redoubts 
 Oct 2t 
 
 during the night, by the Ameri 
 cans, drew upon them a heavy cannonade 
 from the enemy next morning. While 
 the chaplain, Mr. Evans, was standing by 
 the side of Washington, a ball struck the 
 ground so near as to throw the sand upon 
 his hat. Removing it from his head, the 
 parson exclaimed, in great agitation, "See 
 here, general !" " Mr. Evans," quietly an 
 swered the chief, "you had better carry 
 that home, and show it to your wife and 
 children." 
 
 After a delay of several days in land 
 ing the heavy artillery and military stores 
 from the French ships, the allied armies 
 began to break ground, as the town was 
 now fully invested. Upon Major-General 
 Lincoln devolved the honor of opening 
 
 the first parallel. Under cover 
 
 of a dark and stormy night, he 
 silently advanced to the ground with a 
 large detachment. The armed troops led 
 the way, followed by the working-parties 
 bearing fascines and intrenching-tools on 
 their shoulders, horses drawing cannon, 
 and wagons loaded with bags filled with 
 sand for constructing breastworks. Un 
 disturbed by the foe, the troops worked 
 laboriously that night; and, before day 
 light, they had nearly completed the first 
 parallel line of almost two miles in length, 
 besides laying the foundations of two re 
 doubts within six hundred yards of the 
 enemy s works. 
 
 On the afternoon of the third 
 
 day, several batteries of eighteen 
 
 * Recollections of Washington, p. 337. 
 
 Oct. 6, 
 
 Oct. 9, 
 
 and twenty-four pounders were prepared 
 to open upon the town, " when his excel 
 lency General Washington put the match 
 to the first gun, and a furious discharge 
 of cannon and mortars immediately fol 
 lowed," giving Earl Cornwallis his first 
 salutation.* This cannonade was contin 
 ued through the niucht, and ear- 
 
 Oct, 10. 
 ly the next morning the rrench 
 
 opened three batteries upon the enemy. 
 For eight hours the roar of the big guns 
 was continuous, and hundreds of bomb 
 shells and round-shot were hurled upon 
 the British work. So tremendous was the 
 bombardment, that very soon the cannon 
 of the besieged were nearly silenced. At 
 night the French discharged red-hot shot 
 at the British squadron lying at anchor 
 in the river, setting fire to the Charon, a 
 forty-four gun ship, and to three trans 
 ports. The Hash and thundering of the 
 artillery, the burning of the vessels, the 
 plunge of the balls into the river, followed 
 by great spouts of water, produced, we 
 can well believe, as a spectator declares, 
 " one of the most sublime and magnificent 
 spectacles which can be imagined." 
 
 Throughout the night the allies kept 
 up their cannonade, and the next morn- 
 
 iim another British vessel was 
 
 Oct. 11, 
 
 set on hre by a red-hot ball, and 
 
 was consumed. From the 9th to the 16th 
 the siege continued; and in the meantime 
 the French and Americans increased the 
 number of their batteries, and maintained 
 a tremendous and incessant firing," du 
 ring which Lafayette, Hamilton, Laurens. 
 Ogden, Gibbs, Stevens, Carrington, and 
 other American officers, as well as many 
 
 * Timelier. 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 STORMING OF THE REDOUBTS. 
 
 913 
 
 Oct. 14, 
 
 of their French comrades, distinguished 
 themselves by their bravery. 
 
 On the night of the llth, the second 
 parallel was opened, and batteries were 
 erected within three hundred yards of the 
 British works. Both besiegers and be 
 sieged now began to fire with redoubled 
 fury. The enemy uncovered new embra 
 sures, and were thus enabled to return a 
 more effective cannonade. Two of their 
 advance-redoubts flanked the second par 
 allel, and so greatly annoyed the working- 
 parties of the besiegers, that it was deter 
 mined to take them by assault. 
 
 Two detachments were accord 
 ingly marched out in the even 
 ing, one composed of American light-in 
 fantry, under Lafayette, to attack the re 
 doubt on the left; and the other of French 
 grenadiers and chasseurs, commanded by 
 the baron de Viornenil, to assail the re 
 doubt on the right of the British lines. 
 The advanced corps of the American de 
 tachment was led by Colonel Alexander 
 Hamilton, long the favorite aid-de-camp 
 of the commander-in-chief, but now re 
 stored to his rank and duty in the line.* 
 
 * In the February preceding, General Sullivan had rec 
 ommended the appointment of Colonel Hamilton as secre 
 tary of the treasury. " It was at this time," savs Lossing, 
 " that a misunderstanding occurred between Washington 
 and Colonel Hamilton, which caused the withdrawal of the 
 latter from the military family of the commander-in-chief 
 According to Hamilton s account, the rupture was caused 
 by his being charged with disrespect by Washington. He 
 was passing Washington on the stairs, when the general told 
 Colonel Hamilton that he wished to speak to him. The 
 latter answered that he would wait upon him immediately. 
 He went below, delivered a message to one of the aids, and 
 stopped a minute on his way back, to converse with Lafay 
 ette on matters of business. The general met Hamilton at 
 the head of the stairs, and said, Colonel Hamilton, you 
 have kept me waiting at the head of the stairs these ten min 
 utes. I must tell you, sir, you treat me with disrespect. 
 Hamilton replied, I am not conscious of it, sir ; but, since 
 
 115 
 
 Lafayette had, in the first instance, hon 
 ored his own aid, Colonel Gimat, by giv 
 ing him the command. Hamilton, how 
 ever, had insisted that, as it was his tour 
 of duty, he was entitled to the position. 
 Upon referring the question to Washing 
 ton, he decided in favor of his former aid- 
 de-camp ; and it was finally agreed that 
 Gimat s should take the advance of Ham 
 ilton s battalion, but that the latter officer 
 should take the precedence in command. 
 At a given signal, the detachments ad 
 vanced to the assault. The Americans 
 made an impetuous rush for the redoubt 
 on their side, pulling up the abattis with 
 their hands, knocking down the palisades, 
 leaping over the ditch, and scrambling up 
 the walls into the enemy s works. Ham 
 ilton was the first on the parapet avail 
 ing himself, however, of the aid of one of 
 his soldiers, upon whose shoulder, as the 
 man knelt, the little colonel stepped, and 
 was thus raised to the requisite height 
 for mounting. Not a gun was fired, and 
 the redoubt was taken by the push of the 
 bayonet alone. The assault was so rap 
 idly effected, that the loss of the Ameri 
 cans was trifling, amounting only to nine 
 killed and thirty-two wounded. Major 
 Campbell, in command, with seventeen of 
 his garrison, were taken prisoners. Eight 
 
 you have thought it necessary to tell me so, we part. Wash 
 ington rejoined, Very well, sir, if it be your choice. In 
 less than an hour afterward, one of Washington s aids wait 
 ed upon Hamilton with a tender of reconciliation. This the 
 offended young gentleman would not accept. He seems, by 
 his letter of explanation to General Schuyler, to have been 
 anxious to leave his position in Washington s family, and 
 have the command of a regiment. In that letter he says, 
 I was always determined, if there should ever happen a 
 breach between us, never to consent to an accommodation. 
 This is the key to the whole matter. The affront, of itself, 
 was too slight to have caused the rupture." 
 
914 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 LPATIT IT 
 
 were killed in the heat of the assault, but 
 not a man was touched after he ceased to 
 resist. A New-Hampshire captain threat 
 ened to shoot Campbell, in revenge for 
 the death of Colonel Scammel, who was 
 from his native state ; but Colonel Ham 
 ilton interposed, and saved the major s 
 life. 
 
 " As the Americans were mounting the 
 redoubt," says Custis, "Lieutenant-Colo 
 nel Laurens, aid-de-camp to the command- 
 er-in-chief, appeared suddenly on their 
 flank, at the head of two companies. Up 
 on Major Fish* hailing him with ( Why, 
 Laurens, what brought you here ? the he 
 ro replied, I had nothing to do at head 
 quarters, and so came here to see what 
 you all were about. Bravest among the 
 brave, this Bayard of his age and country 
 rushed with the foremost into the works, 
 making with his own hand Major Camp 
 bell, the British commandant, a prisoner- 
 of-war. The cry of the Americans as they 
 mounted to the assault was, Remember 
 New London ! But here, as at Stony 
 Point, notwithstanding the provocation 
 to retaliate was justified by the inhuman 
 massacres of Paoli and Fort Gris wold, mer 
 cy perched triumphant on our country s 
 colors." 
 
 The French were not so expeditious in 
 their assault. They were determined to 
 do the thing according to the most ap 
 proved rules of art, and would not ad 
 vance till their pioneers had "regularly" 
 cut down the nbattis. In the meantime, 
 they were exposed to a galling fire. The 
 marquis de Lafayette, with the Ameri- 
 
 * Major Nicholas Fish, of the New York line, and father 
 of Hamilton Fish, late governor of the state of New York. 
 
 cans, having accomplished his duty, sent 
 Major Barbour, his aid, to inform De Vio- 
 menil that " he was in his redoubt, and to 
 ask the baron where lie was." Barbour 
 found the French commander, while his 
 pioneers were "systematically" clearing 
 away the abattis, waiting to begin the as 
 sault. " Tell the marquis," he said, in an 
 swer to Lafayette s message, "that I am 
 not in mine, hit will be in five minutes /" 
 
 The assault, once begun, was made with 
 a gallant dash. The regiment of the Gati- 
 nais, mindful of the promise of De Ro- 
 chambeau, fought with great spirit. The 
 French general, who had formerly served 
 as colonel of the D Auversme regiment, 
 
 o o " 
 
 out of which the Gatinais had been formed, 
 had promised them to get back from the 
 king their old name of " D Auvcrgne sans 
 tache" if they proved themselves worthy 
 of it on that night. The name was re 
 stored. The loss of the French was con 
 siderable. Count de Deuxponts received 
 a wound, and Count Charles de Lameth 
 was shot by a musket-ball which passed 
 through both his knees ; while nearly a 
 hundred of the privates were either killed 
 or w r ounded. 
 
 The British kept up an incessant can 
 nonade from all their works during (he 
 assaults upon the two redoubts. Wash 
 ington, with Generals Lincoln and Knox 
 and their suites, having dismounted, stood 
 watching the result. One of Washing 
 
 o o 
 
 ton s aids, observing that his position was 
 an exposed one, became solicitous for his 
 safety, and remarked: "Sir, you are too 
 much exposed here. Had you not better 
 step a little back?" "Colonel," replied 
 the chief, "if you are afraid, you have 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] DESPERATE EXPEDIENTS OF LORD CORNWALLIS. 
 
 915 
 
 liberty to step back." Soon afterward, a 
 musket-ball, after striking a cannon, rolled 
 at Washington s feet, when General Knox, 
 grasping his arm, ventured to remark, " My 
 dear general, we can t spare you yet." 
 " It is a spent ball no harm is done," was 
 the simple reply. When the last redoubt 
 was taken, Washington turned to Knox 
 and said, " The work is done, and well 
 done," and then called to his servant 
 " Billy, bring me my horse."* 
 
 " Washington, during the whole of the 
 siege," says Custis, "continued to expose 
 himself to every danger. It was in vain 
 his officers remonstrated. It was in vain 
 that Colonel Cobb, his aid-de-camp, en 
 treated him to come down from a parapet, 
 whence he was reconnoitring the enemy s 
 works, the shot and shells flying thickly 
 around, and an officer of the New-England 
 line killed within a very few yards. Du 
 ring one of his visits to the main battery, 
 a soldier of Colonel Lamb s artillery had 
 his leg shattered by the explosion of a 
 shell. As they were bearing him to the 
 rear, he recognised the chief, and cried 
 out, God bless your excellency ! save me 
 if you can, for I have been a good soldier, 
 and served under you during the whole 
 war. Sensibly affected by the brave fel 
 low s appeal, the general immediately or 
 dered him to the particular care of his 
 own surgeon; Doctor Craik. It was too 
 late; death terminated his sufferings after 
 an amputation was performed." 
 
 The captured redoubts being now in 
 cluded in the second parallel, which was 
 almost completed, and the heaviest of the 
 guns from the French ships mounted up- 
 
 * Lossin"-- 
 
 Oct. 15. 
 
 on the batteries, together with the artil 
 lery that had been taken, the besiegers 
 were enabled to act with tremendous ef 
 fect upon the town. The situation of 
 Earl Cornwallis was becoming desperate. 
 His works were crumbling to pieces, and 
 nearly all the guns on his left were dis 
 mounted or silenced. It was now 
 ten days since the time appoint 
 ed by Sir Henry Clinton for the sailing 
 of the fleet and troops from New York to 
 his lordship s relief; and yet there was 
 not a sign of their approach, or a single 
 word received to account for the torturing 
 delay. Cornwallis, however, still strug 
 gled against fate. To retard the progress 
 of the second parallel, now nearly com 
 pleted, and to gain still a little time, his 
 lordship ordered a sortie of three hundred 
 and fifty men, composed of guards and 
 light-infantry, under Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Abercrombie, against two of the French 
 batteries, almost finished. 
 
 The assault began a little before day 
 break. Abercrombie divided his 
 force into two detachments, send 
 ing the guards against one battery and 
 the light-infantry against the other. Botb 
 attacks were made with a gallant dash : 
 the French w r ere driven out, with the loss 
 of a hundred killed and wounded, and all 
 their guns spiked. 
 
 A support, however, soon came up from 
 the trenches, and drove the British out 
 of the batteries again. The cannon had 
 been so hurriedly spiked, that the spikes 
 were readily withdrawn ; and before the 
 ensuing night the batteries were finished, 
 and now opened with great effect upon 
 the town. 
 
 Oct. 16. 
 
916 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 Oct. 16, 
 
 On this day, Lord Cornwallis 
 began to despair of being longer 
 able to hold his position. His crumbling 
 works could hardly show a mounted gun ; 
 he was almost reduced to his last shell ; 
 and his troops were so worn by their in 
 cessant watching, exposure, and severe 
 labor, that the hospitals were filled with 
 the sick and wounded. Hopeless now of 
 receiving aid from Sir Henry Clinton in 
 time to save himself, his lordship was re 
 duced to the alternative of surrendering 
 or attempting an escape. The latter was 
 a bold and hazardous expedient, but the 
 earl bravely chose it. 
 
 Looking across York river, and to the 
 
 D 
 
 wide-spreading country beyond, his lord 
 ship hoped to save at least a portion of 
 his troops by a daring and rapid move 
 ment. He would secretly cross the river 
 in the night, before break of day attack 
 General de Choise (who had completely 
 invested Gloucester), cut to pieces or sur 
 prise his force, seize the French cavalry- 
 horses and those he could find on his 
 route, mount his infantry, make with all 
 speed for the fords of the Rappahannock, 
 Potomac, and other great rivers, and force 
 his way through Maryland, Pennsylvania, 
 and New Jersey, thus effecting a junction 
 with the British commander-in-chief at 
 New York. The artillery, military stores, 
 baggage, and the sick and wounded, would 
 have to be left behind ; but his lordship 
 had determined even upon this sacrifice, 
 in order to save himself the mortification 
 of a surrender. 
 
 Accordingly, at a late hour on 
 the same night, the light-infan 
 try, the greater part of the guards, and 
 
 Oct. 16. 
 
 Oct, 17, 
 
 a portion of the twenty-third regiment, 
 were embarked in boats, and landed on 
 Gloucester Point. So secretly was this 
 effected, that the besiegers on neither side 
 of the river were conscious of the move 
 ment. The rest of the army was ready 
 to follow, when a violent storm of wind 
 and rain arose, which prevented the boats 
 from returning, and ruined the whole pro 
 ject. Cornwallis now abandoned all hopes 
 of escape, and recalled the troops from the 
 other side. The day, however, was con- 
 siderabty advanced before they were able 
 to return, when they were seen by the 
 besiegers, and exposed to their fire. 
 
 The allies, in the meantime, had kept 
 up their destructive cannonade. At day 
 break, several new batteries in 
 the second parallel were opened, 
 by which a more terrible tempest of shell 
 and round-shot was poured upon York- 
 town than had yet been sent. It was on 
 this occasion that Governor Nelson, who 
 commanded the first battery, made a, most 
 noble and touching display of patriotism. 
 The incident is best related in the words 
 of Lafayette, himself a prominent actor 
 in the scene, who thus narrated it to Cus- 
 tis, on his last visit to Mount Vernon, in 
 1825:- 
 
 " I had just finished a battery," said the 
 nation s guest, "mounted with heavy pie 
 ces ; but, before I opened on the town, I 
 requested the attendance of the governor 
 of Virginia, not only as a compliment due 
 to the chief magistrate of the state in 
 which I was serving, but from his accu 
 rate knowledge of the localities of a place 
 in which he had spent the greater part of 
 his life. To what particular spot would 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 EARL CORNWALLIS IN THE CAVE. 
 
 917 
 
 your excellency direct that we should 
 point the cannon ? I asked. There/ 
 promptly replied the noble-minded, patri 
 otic Nelson, to that house. It is mine, 
 and is, now that the secretary s is nearly 
 knocked to pieces, the best one in the 
 town ; and there you will be almost cer 
 tain to find Lord Cornwallis and the Brit 
 ish headquarters. Fire upon it, my dear 
 marquis, and never spare a particle of my 
 property so long as it affords a comfort 
 or a shelter to the enemies of my coun 
 try. The governor then rode away, leav 
 ing us all charmed with an instance of de 
 votional patriotism that would have shed 
 a lustre upon the purest ages of Grecian 
 or Roman virtue."* 
 
 " The first headquarters of Earl Corn 
 wallis," adds Custis, " were in the house 
 of Mr. Secretary Nelson, a relative of the 
 governor, and a gentleman attached to 
 the royal cause. It was a very large and 
 splendid brick mansion, and, towering 
 above the ramparts, afforded a fine mark 
 for the American artillery, that soon rid 
 dled it, having learned from a deserter 
 that it contained the British headquar 
 ters. His lordship remained in the house 
 until his steward was killed by a cannon- 
 
 * " When I visited Yorktown a few years ago," says Los- 
 sin^, " Governor Nelson s house was yet standing, and was 
 occupied by his grandson. It was a large, two-storied brick 
 building, fronting the main street of the town, a short dis 
 tance from the river bank. It bore many scars of the can 
 nonade and bombardment alluded to; and in the yard, in 
 front, lay an unexploded bombshell, cast there at the time 
 of the siege. A few feet from the door was a fine laurel-iree, 
 from whose boughs a handsome civic wreath was made, on 
 the occasion of Lafayette s visit there, in 1824. The wreath 
 was placed upon the brow of the nation s guest, when he in 
 stantly removed it and laid it upon that of Colonel Nicholas 
 Fish, of the Revolution, who accompanied him, remarking 
 that no one was better entitled to wear the mark of honor 
 than he." 
 
 ball while carrying a tureen of soup to 
 his master s table. 
 
 " The British general then removed his 
 headquarters to the house of Governor 
 Nelson, and finally to npartments exca 
 vated in the bank on the southern ex 
 tremity of the town, where two rooms 
 were wainscotted with boards, and lined 
 with baize, for his accommodation." The 
 cave, whose entrance was concealed by 
 an old house, was probably made for the 
 hiding of valuables. " It was in that cav 
 ernous abode that the earl received his 
 last letter from Sir Henry Clinton. It was 
 brought by the Honorable Colonel Coch- 
 ran, who, landing from an English cutter 
 on Cape Charles, procured an open boat, 
 and threading his way, under cover of a 
 fog, through the French fleet, arrived safe 
 ly, and delivered his despatches. They 
 contained orders for the earl to hold out 
 to the last extremity, assuring him that 
 a force of seven thousand men would be 
 immediately embarked for his relief. 
 
 " While taking wine with his lordship 
 after dinner, the gallant colonel proposed 
 that he should go up to the ramparts and 
 take a look at the Yankees, and upon his 
 return give Washington s health in a bum 
 per. He was dissuaded from so rash a 
 proceeding by every one at the table, the 
 whole of the works being at that time in 
 so ruinous a state, that shelter could be 
 had nowhere. The colonel, however, per 
 sisted; and, gayly observing that he would 
 leave his glass as his representative till his 
 return, which would be quickly, away he 
 went. Poor fellow ! lie did return, and that 
 quickly, but he was borne in the arms ot 
 his soldiers,not to his glass, but his grave." 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 Oct. 17. 
 
 Under the terrible and inces 
 
 sant cannonade of the besiegers, 
 with which the earth trembled for a great 
 distance around, the British works were 
 so knocked to pieces, that hardly a gun 
 could be fired from them. York town had 
 now become so evidently untenable, that 
 Lord Cornwallis felt that it would be mad 
 ness to await an assault. After consult 
 ing his engineers and officers, he accord 
 ingly beat a parley about noon, and pro 
 posed a cessation of hostilities for twenty- 
 four hours, and the appointment of com 
 missioners on either side, to settle the 
 terms of a surrender. His lordship s ob 
 ject was to gain time, as he was in hourly 
 expectation of the arrival of a naval force 
 from New York. 
 
 Washington, in reply, objected to the 
 long delay ; for he, too, had information 
 of the expected arrival of succor for Corn 
 wallis, and he was fearful his prey might 
 escape. He therefore expressed the de 
 sire that the earl, previous to the meeting 
 of the commissioners, would state in wri 
 ting his proposals, for which purpose a sus 
 pension of hostilities for two hours would 
 be granted. His lordship complied with 
 the request, and sent back his written prop 
 ositions. These, however, not being con 
 sidered admissible, Washington rejoined 
 with a statement of his own terms, which 
 were agreed to by the earl, and made the 
 basis upon which the capitulation was 
 finally adjusted. 
 
 Colonel John Laurens and Viscount de 
 Noailles (the latter Lafayette s brother- 
 in-law) were appointed the two commis 
 sioners in behalf of General Washington, 
 and Colonel Ross and Lieutenant-Colonel 
 
 Oct. 18, 
 
 Dundas on the part of Lord Cornwallis 
 The commissioners met in the morning 
 and discussed the terms of the 
 surrender, on which they could 
 not fully agree, and the entire day was 
 spent in conferences and negotiations. 
 
 Washington would not allow any fur 
 ther delay, and early the next morning 
 he sent a fair transcript of rough articles 
 to Cornwallis, with a letter, in which he 
 informed his lordship that he should ex 
 pect them to be signed by eleven o clock 
 that clay, and that the troops of the gar 
 rison would march out to surrender by 
 two o clock in the afternoon. To this the 
 earl was obliged to submit. The articles 
 were signed by the respective parties 
 (at the house of Mr. Moore, in the neigh 
 borhood), and, at the hour appointed, the 
 garrisons at York town and Glou 
 cester, the shipping in the har 
 bor, and all the ordnance, ammunition, and 
 stores, belonging to the British at York- 
 town, were surrendered to the land and 
 naval forces of France and the United 
 States, after a siege of thirteen days. 
 
 The following is an abstract of the ar 
 ticles of capitulation : I. The garrisons at 
 York and Gloucester to surrender them 
 selves prisoners-of-war; the land-troops to 
 remain prisoners to the United States 
 the naval forces to the naval army of the 
 French king. II. The artillery, munitions, 
 stores, etc., to be delivered to proper offi 
 cers appointed to receive them. III. The 
 two redoubts captured on the 16th to be 
 surrendered, one to the Americans, the 
 other to the French troops. The garrison 
 at York to march out at two o clock, with 
 shouldered arms, colors cased, and drums 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 SURRENDER OF LORD CORNWALLIS. 
 
 919 
 
 beating ; there to lay down their arms, 
 and return to their encampment. The 
 works on the Gloucester side to be deliv 
 ered to the Americans and French ; the 
 garrison to lay down their arms at three 
 o clock. IV. The officers to retain their 
 side-arms, papers, and private property. 
 Also, the property of loyalists found in 
 the garrison to be retained. V. The sol 
 diers to be kept in Virginia, Maryland, 
 and Pennsylvania, and to be subsisted by 
 the Americans. British, Anspach, and Hes 
 sian officers, allowed to be quartered near 
 them, and supply them with clothing and 
 necessities. VI. The officers allowed to 
 go on parole to Europe, or to any part of 
 the American confederacy ; proper ves 
 sels to be granted by Count de Grasse to 
 convey them, under flags of truce, to New 
 York, within ten days, if they choose ; 
 passports to be granted to those who go 
 by land. VII. Officers allowed to keep 
 soldiers as servants ; and servants, not 
 soldiers, not to be considered prisoners. 
 VIII. The Bonetta to be under the entire 
 control of Cornwallis, to go to New York 
 with despatches, and then to be delivered 
 to Count de Grasse. IX. Traders not con 
 sidered close prisoners-of-w r ar, but on pa 
 role, and allowed three months to dispose 
 of their property, or remove it. X. Loy 
 alists not to be punished on account of 
 having joined the British army. (Con 
 sidering this matter to be of a civil char 
 acter, Washington would not assent to the 
 article.) XI. Proper hospitals to be fur 
 nished for the sick and wounded, they to 
 be attended by the British surgeons. XII. 
 Wagons to be furnished, if possible, for 
 carrying the baggage of officers attending 
 
 the soldiers, and of the hospital-surgeons 
 when travelling on account of the sick. 
 
 XIII. The shipping and boats in the two 
 harbors, with all their appendages, arms, 
 and stores, to be delivered up unimpaired 
 after the private property was unloaded. 
 
 XIV. No article of the capitulation to be 
 infringed on pretext of reprisal ; and a 
 fair interpretation to be given, according 
 to the common meaning and acceptation 
 of words. 
 
 These articles were signed, on the part 
 of the British, by Lord Cornwallis, and by 
 Thomas Symonds, the naval commander 
 in York river ; on the part of the allied 
 armies, by Washington, Rochambeau, De 
 Barras, and De Grasse. 
 
 The ceremony of the surrender present 
 ed a scene of imposing interest. News 
 of the defeat and expected capitulation 
 of the British earl had spread throughout 
 the adjoining country, and the inhabit 
 ants by thousands flocked to the allied 
 camp. Doctor Thacher, who was an eye 
 witness, estimated that the spectators on 
 the occasion w 7 ere in number equal to the 
 military who were to capitulate. 
 
 General Lincoln was appointed by the 
 commander-in-chief to conduct the sur 
 render, which was upon the same terms 
 as those prescribed to that officer the pre 
 vious year at the capitulation of Charles 
 ton. Lincoln doubtless felt a natural sat 
 isfaction in being thus made the instru 
 ment in this "humiliation of those who 
 had made him pass under the } r oke." 
 
 At about twelve o clock, the 
 combined army was drawn up in 
 two lines, extending more than a mile in 
 length. The Americans were posted on 
 
 Oct. 19. 
 
920 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PA TIT IT. 
 
 the right side of the road leading from 
 York town to Hampton, and the French 
 on the left. At the head of the former, 
 Washington, mounted on his noble steed, 
 took his station, attended by his aids-de 
 camp.* At the head of the latter was 
 the count de Kochambeau, on a splendid 
 bay horse, accompanied by his suite. The 
 French troops, in complete uniform, pre 
 sented a martial appearance. The Ameri 
 cans, too, though not all in uniform, and 
 many of them shabbily clothed, exhibited 
 a soldierlike bearing. The immense crowd 
 of spectators looked on in silence, but with 
 a manifest expression of joy on their faces. 
 It is also related that when the British 
 soldiers were about to march out and lay 
 down their arms, Washington said to his 
 troops, " My boys, let there be no insults 
 over a conquered foe ! When they lay 
 down their arms, don t huzza: posterity 
 tvill huzza for you /" 
 
 At two o clock, the captive army came 
 out of the intrenchments, and began to 
 advance between the lines of the allies. 
 Every eye gazed eagerly upon that pro 
 cession, to catch a sight of the renowned 
 and long-dreaded Cormvallis, the terror 
 of the South, in this the hour of his ad 
 versity ; but all were destined to disap- 
 
 " On the day of the surrender, the commander-in-rhief 
 rode his favorite and splendid charger, named Nelson, a light 
 sorrel, sixteen hands high, with white face and legs, and re 
 markable as being the first nicked horse seen in America. 
 This famous charger died at Mount Vernon many years af 
 ter the Revolution, at a very advanced age. After the chief 
 had ceased to mount him, he was never ridden, but grazed 
 in a paddock in summer; and was well cared for in winter; 
 and as often as the retired farmer of Mount Vernon would 
 be making a tour of his grounds, he would halt at the pud- 
 dock, when the old war-horse would run, neighing, to the 
 fence, proud to be caressed by the great muster s hands." 
 CUSTIS S Recollections of Washington. 
 
 pointment. His lordship, who so often 
 had boldly confronted the Americans in 
 battle, lacked the courage to meet them 
 on this day of their triumph. Despond 
 ing and humiliated, the earl, affecting in 
 disposition, appointed General ILira to 
 deliver up his sword to Washington, and 
 to conduct the vanquished army to the 
 place of surrender. O Hara, handsomely 
 mounted, walked his horse at the head of 
 the column of conquered troops, as they 
 moved slowly along with shouldered arms, 
 colors cased, and drums beating a British 
 march. On observing Washington, how 
 ever, he immediately rode up to where 
 the chief was standing, in order to pre 
 sent the sword of his superior, and, taking 
 off his hat, apologized for the absence of 
 Lord Cormvallis. Washington courteous 
 ly referred him for directions to General 
 Lincoln, who took the sword from O Hara, 
 and then politely handed it back, to be 
 returned to the earl. The British troops 
 w r ere now conducted by Lincoln into a 
 spacious field which had been selected for 
 them to ground their arms. 
 
 As they advanced, "it was remarked 
 that the British soldiers looked only tow 
 ard the French army on the left, whose 
 appearance was assuredly more brilliant 
 than that of the Americans, though the 
 latter were respectable in both their cloth 
 ing and appointments ; while their admi 
 rable discipline, and the hardy and vet 
 eran appearance of both officers and men, 
 showed they were no carpet-knights, but 
 soldiers who had seen service, and were 
 inured to war. 
 
 " Lafayette, at the head of his division, 
 observing that the captives confined their 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] DELIVERY OF THE ARMS AND STANDARDS. 
 
 921 
 
 admiration exclusively to the French ar 
 my, neglecting his darling light-infantry, 
 the very apple of his eye and pride of his 
 heart, determined to bring eyes to the 
 right. He ordered his nmsic to strike np 
 Yankee Doodle. Then/ said the good gen 
 eral, l they did look at us, my dear sir, but 
 were not very well pleased. "* 
 
 The royal army was in bright array. 
 Every soldier wore a new uniform, for 
 Cornwallis had opened his stores and sup 
 plied each man with a new suit just be 
 fore the capitulation. " But in their line 
 of march," says Thacher, " we remarked a 
 disorderly and an unsoldierlike conduct; 
 their step was irregular, and their ranks 
 frequently broken. But it was in the 
 field, when they came to the last act of 
 the drama,, that the spirit and pride of 
 the British soldier was put to the severest 
 test ; here their mortification could not be 
 concealed. Some of the platoon-officers 
 appeared to be exceedingly chagrined 
 when giving the word Ground arms! and 
 I am a witness that they performed this 
 duty in a very unofficerlike manner; and 
 that many of the soldiers manifested a 
 sullen temper, throwing their arms on the 
 pile with violence, as if determined to ren 
 der them useless. This irregularity, how 
 ever, was checked by the authority of 
 General Lincoln." 
 
 " When ordered to ground arms," says 
 Custis, "the Hessian was content. He 
 was tired of the war ; his pipe and his pa 
 tience pretty well exhausted, he longed 
 to bid adieu to toilsome marches, battles, 
 and the heat of the climate that consumed 
 him. Not so the British soldier: many 
 
 * Custis s Recollections of Washington. 
 116 
 
 threw their arms to the ground in sullen 
 despair. One fine veteran fellow displayed 
 a soldierly feeling that excited the admi 
 ration of all around. He hugged his mus 
 ket to his bosom, gazed tenderly on it, 
 pressed it to his lips, then threw it from 
 him, and marched away dissolved in tears." 
 
 One of the most painful events to the 
 captives w r as the surrender of the twen 
 ty-eight regimental flags. For this pur 
 pose, twenty-eight British captains, each 
 bearing a flag in a case, were drawn up 
 in line. Opposite to them, at a distance 
 of six paces, twenty-eight American ser 
 geants were placed to receive the colors, 
 and an ensign was appointed by Colonel 
 Hamilton, the officer of the day, to con 
 duct the ceremony. When the ensign 
 gave an order for the captains to advance 
 two paces, and the American sergeants to 
 advance two paces, the former hesitated, 
 saying that they were unwilling to sur 
 render their flags to non-commissioned 
 officers. Hamilton, sitting upon his horse 
 at a distance, observed this hesitation ; he 
 rode up, and, when informed of the diffi 
 culty, ordered the ensign to receive all 
 the colors, and hand them over to the ser 
 geants. 
 
 This ceremony being concluded, and 
 the arms and accoutrements laid down, 
 the ca.ptive troops were conducted back 
 to their lines, under a sufficient guard. 
 The number of men thus surrendered as 
 prisoners amounted to seven thousand 
 and seventy-three, of whom five thousand 
 nine hundred and fifty were rank and file. 
 These, added to two thousand sailors, fif 
 teen hundred tories, and eighteen hun 
 dred negroes, made the total British loss 
 
BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PATCT II. 
 
 nearly twelve thousand. Their loss du 
 ring the siege in killed, wounded, and mis 
 sing, was five hund red and fi fty two. The 
 allied force consisted of about seven thou 
 sand regular American troops, more than 
 five thousand French, and four thousand 
 militia, forming a total of sixteen thou 
 sand. The loss of the allies in the siege 
 was only about three hundred. The ar 
 tillery, and military stores and provision 
 surrendered by the British, were of very 
 considerable amount. There were sev 
 enty-five brass and one hundred and sixty 
 iron cannon ; seven thousand seven hun 
 dred and ninety-four muskets ; twenty- 
 eight regimental standards (ten of them 
 English, and eighteen German) ; a great 
 quantity of mortars, bombs, cannon and 
 musket balls, carriages, etc. The military 
 chest contained nearly eleven thousand 
 dollars in specie. 
 
 " The day after the surrender," 
 says Custis, " Earl Cornwallis re 
 paired to headquarters to pay his respects 
 to General Washington and await his or 
 ders. The captive chief was received with 
 all the courtesy due to a gallant and un 
 fortunate foe. The elegant manners, to 
 gether with the manly, frank, and soldier 
 ly bearing of Cornwallis, soon made him 
 a prime favorite at headquarters, and he 
 often formed part of the suite of the com- 
 mander-in-chief in his rides to inspect the 
 levelling of the works previous to the re 
 tirement of the combined armies from be 
 fore Yorktown. 
 
 " At the grand dinner given at head 
 quarters to the officers of the three ar 
 mies, Washington filled his glass, and, af 
 ter his invariable toast, whether in peace 
 
 Oct. 20, 
 
 or war, of All our friends] gave The Brit 
 ish army I with some complimentary re 
 marks upon its chief, his proud career in 
 arms, and his gallant defence of York- 
 town. When it came to Cornwallis s turn, 
 he prefaced his toast by saying that the 
 war was virtually at an end, and the con 
 tending parties would soon embrace as 
 friends ; there might be affairs of posts, 
 but nothing on a more enlarged scale, as 
 it was scarcely to be expected that the 
 ministry would send another army to 
 America. Then, turning to Washington, 
 his lordship continued: And when the 
 illustrious part that your excellency has 
 borne in this long and arduous contest 
 becomes matter of history, fame will gath 
 er your brightest laurels rather from the 
 banks of the Delaware than from those 
 of the Chesapeake. 
 
 "Colonel Tarleton, alone of all the Brit 
 ish officers of rank, was left out in the in 
 vitations to headquarters. Gallant and 
 high-spirited, the colonel applied to the 
 marquis de Lafayette to know whether 
 the neglect might not have been acci 
 dental. Lafayette well knew that acci 
 dent had nothing to do with the matter, 
 but referred the applicant to Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Laurens, who, as aid-de-camp to 
 the commander-in-chief, must of course 
 be able to give the requisite explanation. 
 Laurens at once said : No, Colonel Tarle 
 ton, no accident at all ; intentional, I can 
 assure you, and meant as a reproof for 
 certain cruelties practised by the troops 
 under your command in the campaigns 
 of the Carolinas. What, sir! haughti 
 ly rejoined Tarleton, and is it for severi 
 ties inseparable from war, which you are 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 THE JOYFUL NEWS IN PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 923 
 
 pleased to term cruelties, that I am to be 
 disgraced before junior officers ? Is it, sir, 
 for a faithful discharge of my duty to my 
 king and my country, that I am thus hu 
 miliated in the eyes of three armies? 
 Pardon me/ continued Colonel Laurens, 
 ( there are modes, sir, of discharging a sol 
 dier s duty ; and where mercy has a share 
 in the mode, it renders the duty the more 
 acceptable to both friends and foes. Tarle- 
 ton stalked gloomily away to his quarters, 
 which he seldom left until his departure 
 from Virginia.* 
 
 " Upon the surrender of the post of 
 Gloucester, Colonel Tarleton, knowing 
 himself to be particularly obnoxious to 
 the Americans from his conduct in the 
 South, requested a guard for his person. 
 This was afterward dispensed with ; but 
 he was destined to be sadly humiliated 
 upon his arrival in York town, being dis 
 mounted in the street from a beautiful 
 blood-horse that was claimed by a Vir 
 ginian gentleman as his property. The 
 colonel was on his way to dine with the 
 baron de Viomenil ; and, but for a French 
 officer who was passing, dismounting an 
 orderly, and giving his steed to the unfor 
 tunate colonel, this celebrated cavalier, 
 badly calculated for a pedestrian, from a 
 defect in one of his feet, must have trudged 
 it to the baron s quarters, a distance of 
 more than a mile." 
 
 In the orders of the day suc 
 ceeding the capitulation, Wash- 
 
 * On his return to England, the inhabitants of his native 
 city (Liverpool) elected him their representative in the house 
 of commons. In 1798 he married the daughter of the duke 
 of Ancaster, and in 1817 became a major-general in the Brit 
 ish army. Upon the coronation of George IV., in 1821), 
 General Tarleton was created a baronet, lie died in 1833, 
 ut the age of seventy-nine years. 
 
 Oct. 20, 
 
 ington expressed his approbation of the 
 conduct of both armies, making special 
 mention of several officers, among whom 
 were Knox and Du Porta.il, of the artille 
 ry, who were each promoted to the rank 
 of major-general. Thanks were also ren 
 dered to Governor Nelson; and, that ev 
 ery one might share in the general joy, 
 all offenders under arrest were ordered to 
 be set at liberty. Washington closed his 
 order with a notice that on the morrow 
 (which was the sabbath) divine service 
 would be held in the several brigades and 
 divisions; and he earnestly recommended 
 that the troops, not on duty, should uni 
 versally attend, " with that seriousness of 
 deportment and gratitude of heart which 
 the recognition of such reiterated and as 
 tonishing interpositions of Providence de 
 manded of them." 
 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Tilghman was sent 
 express to Philadelphia with Washington s 
 despatches to Congress, and, as he spread 
 intelligence of the great event on his way, 
 the country became vocal with rejoicings. 
 It was midnight when he entered Phila 
 delphia. He made his way directly to the 
 house of President M Kean, and delivered 
 his despatches. Soon afterward the whole 
 city was in commotion. The watchmen 
 everywhere in proclaiming the hour, add 
 ed, in loud voices, "and Cornwallis islaJccn /"* 
 That annunciation, ringing out upon the 
 frosty night-air, aroused thousands from 
 their beds. Lights were soon seen mov 
 ing in every house ; and before daylight 
 the streets were thronged with people. 
 Anxiously they had awaited this hoped- 
 for intelligence from Yorktown, and now 
 
 * Lossing. 
 
924 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART IT. 
 
 Oct. 24, 
 
 their joy was complete. The old state- 
 house bell rang out its notes of gladness, 
 and the first blush of the morning was 
 greeted with the roar of cannon. 
 
 o 
 
 At an early hour Congress assembled, 
 and the members of that grave body were 
 highly excited when Secretary Thompson 
 read Washington s despatches. During 
 the reading they could scarcely repress 
 huzzas; and at its conclusion they resolved 
 to go in procession at two o clock 
 that day, "and return thanks to 
 Almighty God for crowning the allied ar 
 mies of the United States and France with 
 success." The thanks of Congress were 
 presented to Washington, Rochambeau, 
 and De Grasse, and the officers and men 
 under their respective commands. They 
 also resolved that two stands of colors* 
 taken from Cornwallis should be present 
 ed to Washington, in the name of the 
 United States; that two pieces of the field- 
 
 * "I found in the Philadelphia Sunday Despatch," says 
 Mr. Losing, "in one of a series of articles on the History 
 of Clifstmit Street, from the pen of one of the editors, the fol 
 lowing extract from an old paper, entitled the A/lied Mer 
 cury, or Independent Intelligencer, of the date of 5th Novem 
 ber, 1781, which relates to the British banners surrendered 
 at Yorktown :" 
 
 "On Saturday last (November 3, 1781), between three 
 and four o clock in the afternoon, arrived here twenty-four 
 standards of colors taken witli the British army under the 
 command of Earl Cornwallis. The volunteer cavalry of this 
 city received these trophies of victory at Schuylkill, from 
 whence they escorted and ushered them into town amidst 
 the acclamations of a numerous concourse of people. Con 
 tinental and French colors, at a distance, preceded the Brit- 
 i.-h, and thus they were paraded down Market street to the 
 statchouse. They were then carried into Congress and laid 
 at their feet. 
 
 The crow.l exulting, fills with shouts the sky ; 
 The walls, the woods, and long canals, reply: 
 Base, Britons! tyrant Britons! knock under 
 Taken s your earl, soldiers, and plunder. 
 Huzza! what colors of the bloody foe,, 
 Twenty-lour in number, at the slaleliouse door ! 
 Look: they are, British standards; how they fall 
 At the president s feet, Congress and all ! 
 
 Oct. 19, 
 
 ordnance captured at York should be pre 
 sented to each of the French commanders, 
 Rochambeau and De Grasse ; that a horse 
 should be presented to Lieutenant-Colo 
 nel Tilghman by the board of war, in the 
 name of the United States; and that a 
 marble column should be erected at York- 
 town, in commemoration of the surrender. 
 Congress likewise appointed the 30th of 
 December as a day of general thanksgiv 
 ing and prayer throughout the Union. 
 
 On the very day of Earl Corn- 
 wallis s surrender at Yorktown, 
 the British fleet of twenty-five ships-of- 
 the-line, two fifties, and eight frigates, un- 
 
 J O O 
 
 der Admiral Graves, sailed from New York 
 with Sir Henry Clinton and seven thou 
 sand of his choicest troops on board. On 
 reaching the capes of Virginia, they stood 
 of! the mouth of the Chesapeake until the 
 29th, when, finding that it was too late to 
 be of any service to Cornwallis, they re 
 turned to New York. 
 
 After the surrender of Yorktown, Wash 
 ington strove to persua.de De Grasse to 
 co-operate with General Greene in an ex 
 pedition against Charleston or Wilming 
 ton. The French admiral, however, re 
 fused compliance, on the ground of differ 
 ent orders from his government* The 
 
 * FRANCOIS JOSEPH PAUL, Count de Grasse, a .native of 
 France, was born in 1723. He was the junior, in service, 
 of Count de Barms, but was made his superior in command, 
 with the title of lieutenant-general. His flag-ship, the Ville 
 de Paris, was a present from the city of Paris to Louis XVI. 
 She rated a hundred and ten guns, and carried thirteen hun 
 dred men. " On her arrival in the Chesapeake," savs Cus- 
 tis, " flowers and tropical plants were interspersed upon her 
 quarter-deck, amid the engines of war; while her sides, cov 
 ered with bright varnish, gave to this superb vessel a most 
 brilliant and imposing appearance." On the 5th of Novem 
 ber, De Grasse left the Chesapeake for the West Indies. On 
 the 12th of April, 1782, he was attacked and totally defeated 
 by Admiral Kodney. The Ville de Paris was reduced al- 
 
REVOLUTIONARY.] 
 
 CLOSE OF THE WAR. 
 
 925 
 
 American army (with the exception of a 
 body of men under General St. Clair, who 
 marched southward to reinforce Greene) 
 set out for the North, leaving Count de 
 Rochambeau and three thousand French 
 troops at Williamsburg, in Virginia. 
 
 Within a fortnight, York town was evac 
 uated by both victors and vanquished. A 
 portion of the prisoners were removed to 
 Winchester, in Virginia, and some to Fort 
 Frederick and Fredericktown, in Mary 
 land. The latter were finally marched to 
 Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, and guarded 
 by continental troops. The favor grant 
 ed to Lord Cornwallis, of being allowed 
 to send the Bonetta sloop-of-war to New 
 York unsearched, gave his lordship an op 
 portunity of sending off a number of to- 
 ries to the protection of Sir Henry Clin 
 ton, as he could not prevail upon his con 
 querors to guaranty their safety. The 
 earl himself/ "- with other British officers, 
 
 most to a wreck by the Canada, commanded by Captain 
 Cornwallis, brother of the earl, who seemed determined to 
 avenge his kinsman s fate at Yorktown. Still, DC Grasse 
 refused to yield to any ship carrying less than an admiral s 
 flag. He finally struck to the Barfleur, of ninety-eight guns, 
 commanded by Sir Samuel Hood, having but two men left 
 alive on the quarter-deck ! Four of the prizes taken by the 
 British (the Ville de Paris, Centaur, Glorieux, and Hector, 
 and the English-built ship Ramilics) foundered at sea. On 
 arriving at Portsmouth, the English sailors mounted De 
 Grasse on their shoulders, and carried him in triumph to his 
 lodgings. His later years were unhappy, through the bad 
 conduct of his second wife and the neglect of the king. He 
 died early in 1788, aged sixty-five years. 
 
 * CHARLES, marquis of, and son of the first Earl CORN 
 WALLIS, was born in 1738, and entered the army as soon as 
 he had completed his education at Cambridge. In America, 
 as we have seen, he acted a conspicuous part. In 178G, he 
 was made governor-general and commander in-chief in India. 
 In 1798, he was sent to Ireland as lord-lieutenant; and, in 
 tlin trying and terrible scenes of the rebellion, he so con 
 ducted himself as to gain the good opinion of the public, 
 while vigorously upholding and vindicating the laws. In 
 1804, he was a second time appointed governor-general of 
 India. He died the following year, aged sixty-seven. 
 
 went by sea to New York, on parole, and 
 were finally all exchanged/ 1 "- Soon after 
 ward, Henry Laurens was liberated from 
 the Tower of London, and exchanged foi 
 General Burgoyne, who, though at large 
 in England, and constantly debating in 
 the house of commons against the minis 
 try, was still held as a prisoner on parole. 
 The success of the allies at Yorktown 
 virtually closed the war. No one doubt 
 ed that the United States had not only 
 won its independence, but the tardy ac 
 knowledgment of it from Great Britain. 
 A treaty of peace was not signed, howev 
 er, until the begrinnino; of 1783, 
 
 JAH< 20 
 the British retaining their hold 
 
 upon New York until the 25th of Novem 
 ber following, although not an action oc 
 curred in the meantime (excepting the 
 campaign in South Carolina, already de 
 tailed) of sufficient moment to deserve a 
 record among the " BATTLES OF AMERICA."* 
 Our narrative, therefore of the Revolu 
 tionary War, closes with the decisive tri 
 umph of Washington over Cornwallis, the 
 greatest of the English generals. 
 
 * The operations of the American navy, afror the exploits 
 of Paul Jones (who had been made a rear-admiral in tho 
 Russian service}, were so limited, that we need give them 
 but a passing notice. In June, 1780, the twenty-eight gun 
 ship Trumbull, commanded by Captain Nicholson, attacked 
 the British ship Watt, of much greater force, and was dis 
 abled, but not captured. She lost thirty-two in killed and 
 wounded ; the enemy ninety-two. In October, the sixteen- 
 gun sloop Saratoga, Captain Young, captured a British ship 
 and two brigs, but, while convoying them into port, was over 
 taken by the Intrepid, a seventy-four, and the prizes were 
 retaken. The Saratoga escaped. On the 2d of April, 1781, 
 the Alliance, Captain Barry, captured two Guernsey priva 
 teers ; and, soon after, she captured two British men-of-war, 
 one of which was retaken on its wny to America. In June, 
 the Confederacy, Captain Harding, was taken by two armed 
 British vessels In August, the Trumbull was captured by 
 three British cruisers off the Delaware capes ; and on the 6th 
 of September, the Congress, Captain Geddes, captured the 
 British ship Savage, but the prize was subsequently retaken. 
 
926 
 
 BATTLES OF AMERICA. 
 
 [PART it. 
 
 NOV. 27, 
 
 In England, the intelligence of the ca 
 pitulation of Yorktown produced a pow 
 erful effect, and greatly perplexed the 
 kinn; and his ministers. On the 
 
 O 
 
 assembling of Parliament, its first 
 business was a consideration of American 
 affairs. News of Cornwallis s surrender 
 had reached the ministry at noon on Sun 
 day, the 25th. Wraxall, in his Memoirs, 
 says he asked Lord George Germain how 
 Lord North " took the communication." 
 "As he would have taken a cannon-ball 
 in his breast," Lord George replied ; " for 
 he opened his arms, exclaiming wildly, as 
 he paced up and down the apartment for 
 a few minutes, God! it is all over T 
 words which he repeated many times, un 
 der emotions of the deepest consternation 
 and distress." 
 
 Violent debates upon the subject im 
 mediately ensued in the house of com 
 mons, and Charles James Fox even went 
 so far as to insinuate that Lord North was 
 in the pay of the French ! The minister 
 indignantly repelled the insinuation, and 
 vainly attempted to defend the war on 
 the ground of its justice, and the proper 
 maintenance of British rights. Upon this 
 point, however, he was fiercely assailed by 
 Edmund Burke, who exclaimed : " Good 
 God ! are we yet to be told of the rights 
 for which we went to war ? excellent 
 rights! valuable rights ! Valuable you 
 should be, for we have paid dear at part 
 ing with you. valuable rights! that 
 
 IVov, 30, 
 
 have cost Britain thirteen provinces, four 
 islands, one hundred thousand men, and 
 more than seventy millions of money !" 
 The younger Pitt distinguished himself 
 
 in this debate against the minis- 
 
 . ... 
 
 try. Ihe opposition now pro 
 
 posed the bold measure (last adopted du- 
 ing the Revolution of 1688) of withhold 
 ing supplies till the ministers should give 
 a pledge that the war in America should 
 cease. This motion, however, was lost by 
 a vote of nearly two to one. But every 
 day the war grew more and more unpop 
 ular in England ; and at length a resolu 
 tion offered in the new Parliament by Gen 
 eral Conway, in February, which 
 
 j j j 1 7^9 
 
 was preliminary to an act ordering 
 a cessation of hostilities, was lost by only 
 one vote. Encouraged by this, the oppo 
 sition urgently pressed the subject ; and 
 on the 4th of March, Conway moved that 
 " the house would consider as enemies to 
 his majesty and the country all those who 
 should advise, or by any means attempt. 
 the further prosecution of offensive war 
 on the continent of America." This reso 
 lution was carried without a division, and 
 the next day a plan for a truce with the 
 Americans was introduced by the attor 
 ney-general. After an administration of 
 twelve years, Lord North now resigned 
 the seals of office. Orders were accord 
 ingly issued to the respective British mil 
 itary and naval commanders in America 
 for a cessation of hostilities. 
 
 END OF PART II. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 927 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 COLONIAL AND REVOLUTIONARY. 
 
 ABETCCROMBIE, Col., makes a sortie at Yorktown, 915. 
 
 Abercrombie, Major-Gen., at Albany, in 1756 and 
 1758, 9 J, 10-! ; his expedition against Ticonderoga, 
 104 ; his defeat and retreat to Fort Edward, 105. 
 
 Acadians, expulsion of, from Nova Scotia, in 1755, 90. 
 
 Ackland, Lady Harriet, with her husband in Bur- 
 goyne s army, 542 ; visits her husband in the 
 American camp, 564 ; her kind reception by Gates, 
 565 ; subsequent history of (not! }, 530. 
 
 Ackland, Major, jit the second battle of Bemis 
 Heights, 558 ; death of (not"), 566. 
 
 Adams, John, nominates Washington as commander- 
 in-chii f, 157 ; anecdote told by, of Franklin, 344 ; 
 conversation of, with Lord Howe, 345, 34(5. 
 
 Adam:;, Mrs., describes the cannonades at the siege of 
 Boston, 246, 249. 
 
 Adams Samuel, an early friend of the popular 
 cause in Boston, 141. 
 
 Agnew, Gen., in the expedition to Danbnry, 464. 
 
 Aix-la-Chapelle, Cape Breton and Louisburg ceded to 
 France by the treaty of, in 1748, 32. 
 
 Alden, Col. Ichabod, his negligence at the defense of 
 Cherry Valley, in 1778, 677. 
 
 Alfred and Raleigh, American frigates, cruise of, 593. 
 
 Alfred, American frigate, captured by the British, 666. 
 
 Allen, a clergyman, at the battle of Bennington, 521. 
 
 Allen, Ethan, capture of Ticonderoga undertaken by, 
 15-5 ; a favorite with the " Green-Mountain Boys," 
 155 ; Ic-tt -r of, to the provincial congress of New 
 York, 195 ; superseded in command employed to 
 rais3 recruits in Canada his attempt on Montreal, 
 199 ; made prisoner by the British and sent to 
 England, 200 ; his abuse of his jailers, 442 ; visit 
 of, to Valley Forge, and his return to Vermont, 618. 
 
 Alliance, an American frigate, put at the disposal of 
 Lafayette when returning to France in 1779 diffi 
 culty in finding a crew conspiracy t:> mutiny dis 
 covered on board, 680 ; in the,squadron of Paul 
 Jones in 1779, 702 ; with the Bon Ilomme Richard 
 during her action with the Serapis, 708. 
 
 "American Turtle," attempt made by means of, to 
 sink the ship Eagle, 318 : sunk in the Hudson by 
 the British, 371. 
 
 I a 
 
 Amherst, Lord, his expedition against Louisburg, 100, 
 102 ; takes Ticonderoga and Crown Point retreats 
 from Montreal. 1< 7 ; on Lake Ontario and the 
 St. Lawrence, 133 ; Montreal surrendered to, 134. 
 
 Anderson, Mr. , his plan for the destruction of Howe s 
 fleet, 312 ; plan favored by Putnam, 314. 
 
 Andre, Major John, quartered in Franklin s house in 
 Philadelphia carries off portrait of Franklin, 605 ; 
 theatrical tastes of, 60:> ; advances made by Arnold 
 to Sir II. Clinton through assumed name of , Ju7tn 
 Anderxon biographical notice of, 761 ; efforts of, 
 to obtain an interview with Arnold, 763, 765 ; visits 
 Arnold, 767 ; his adventures after parting with 
 Arnold, 769 ; captured by Cowboys, 772 ; letter 
 written by, to Washington, 775 ; removal of, from 
 North Salem, 781 ; kind treatment of efforts made 
 by Sir H. Clinton to obtain the release of, 782 ; trial 
 of condemned to death letter written by, to Sir 
 H. Clinton, 783 ; conference to consider the case of 
 letter of Arnold to Washington in favor of, 785 ; 
 letter of, to Washington Thacher s account of the 
 execution of, 787 ; remains of, removed to West 
 minster Abbey in 1821 testimony of Clinton to the 
 character of feeling of sympathy for, 788 ; monu 
 ment erected to the memory of, at Tarrytown 
 captors of, rewarded by Congress, 789. 
 
 Angell, Col., bridge over the Railway at Springfield 
 defended by, 750. 
 
 Arbuthnot, Admiral, fleet of, sails past Fort Moultrie 
 into Charleston harbor, 724. 
 
 Armstrong, Col. John, destroys Kittanning in 1756, 
 96. 
 
 Armstrong, Gen. , commands the American left wing 
 at the battle of the Brandy wine, 531. 
 
 Armstrong, Major, at the battle of Camden, 741. 
 
 Armand, Col., bad conduct of the cavalry of, at the 
 battle of Camden, 740. 
 
 Army, American, necessity for the reorganization of, 
 in 1776, 358 ; bounties offered by Congress to 
 encourage enlistments in (note}, 359. 
 
 Arnold, Benedict, after the battle of Lexington, 150 ; 
 his anxiety to lead the expedition against Ticonder 
 oga, 154 ; enters the fort with Ethan Allen, 155 ; 
 St. Johns on the Sorel captured and abandoned by, 
 
928 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 [PARTS 
 
 156 ; on Lake Cliamplain, 193 ; superseded in com 
 mandhis disappointment and irritation desires 
 to attempt the conquest of Canada, 194 ; proposes 
 an expedition against Canada, 195 ; expedition 
 against Canada entrusted to, 196 ; his progress 
 from the Kenuebec to Quebec, 201-206 ; letter to 
 Schuyler intrusted by, to an Indian, 205 ; arrives at 
 Point Levi his approach known in Quebec, 206 ; 
 wounded in his attack on Quebec, 213 ; attempts to 
 blockade Quebec made brigadier -general, 213 ; 
 movements of, after the siirrender of Butterfield at 
 the Cedars, 273 ; convention made by, for an ex 
 change of prisoners, 274 ; retreat of, from Montreal 
 narrow escape of, from Burgoyne, 279 ; fleet 
 equipped on Lake George through the energy of 
 difficulty of, with the goods of Montreal merchants, 
 365 ; his engagement with Carleton s fleet on Lake 
 Cliamplain, 367 ; escape of his fleet pursued and 
 overtaken, fights again, 388 ; abandons his vessels 
 and retires to Ticonderoga, 369 ; sent against the 
 British on Rhode Island, 451; name of, omitted from 
 the list of major-generals, 454 ; efforts of Washing 
 ton in favor of, 455 ; attempts to intercept Tryon, on 
 his retreat from Danbury narrow escape of, 467 ; 
 appointed major-general horse presented to, by 
 Congress letter in relation to his wrongs Richard 
 II. Lee a strong friend of, 469 ; Washington a friend 
 of, 470 ; recommended by Washington for the com 
 mand of New York and New England militia, 497 ; 
 service in the northern army accepted by, 500 ; move 
 ments of, for the relief- of Fort Schuyler proclama 
 tion issued by, 526 ; exaggerated stories of the force 
 under, 527 ; goes to the assistance of Gates, 528 ; ac 
 tivity of, at Bemis heights, 540 ; offended at Gates, 
 548 ; letters of, written to Gates, 546, 547 ; his resig 
 nation accepted by Gates, 547 ; his excitement at the 
 battle of Bemis heights, 559 ; command at West 
 Point obtained by, 756 ; history of the treason of, 757 
 -780; extravagant style of living of, at Philadelphia, 
 758-759 ; tried by court-martial language of Wash 
 ington s reprimand to early insight into the char 
 acter of, 759 ; exorbitant claims of his attempt to 
 obtain a loan from the French embassador, 760; de 
 tested by the people of Philadelphia opens com 
 munications with Sir II. Clinton, 761 ; his interview 
 with Major Andre, 7(57 ; price demanded by, for his 
 treason 769 ; receives intelligence of the capture of 
 Andre, 777 ; escapes on board the Vulture, 778 ; dis 
 covery of his treason by Washington letter writ 
 ten by to Washington, exonerating Mrs. Arnold and 
 others, 779 ; letters written by, in favor of Major 
 Andre, 782, 786 ; scheme for the abduction of, 786 ; 
 proclamation issued by, from New York, 789 ; des 
 pised by the British officers and soldiers, 79:) ; expe 
 dition against Virginia intrusted to, 820 ; reward 
 offered for the capture of, 821 ; plan for blockading, 
 in Portsmouth, 843 ; his escape from Lafayette and 
 
 De Tilley, 844 ; succeeds to the chief command of 
 the British forces in Virginia what an American 
 captain said would be done with, if caught (noti-) 
 returns to New York, 846 ; expedition against New 
 London intrusted to, 905 ; gratification of, at the 
 sight of New London in flames the last military 
 service of, 907 ; publicly insulted in England, 790 ; 
 death of, in obscurity, 791. 
 
 Arnold, Mrs , parting of Arnold with, 777 ; letter of 
 Arnold to Washington, requesting kind treatment 
 for, 779 ; entirely innocent of her husband s treason, 
 780 ; little sympathy felt for in Ph.ladelphia, 791. 
 
 Asdumpink creek, encampment of Washington on 
 arrival of the British at, 429 ; critical position of 
 Washington s army on, 430 ; deception practised on 
 the British at, 432. 
 
 Atlee, Col., taken prisoner at the battle of Long 
 Island, 327. 
 
 Augusta, Ga., taken possession of by the British, 688; 
 surrender of, to Gen Pickens and Col. Lee Col. 
 Griessoii killed at, after the surrender of, 864. 
 
 B. 
 
 BAIKD, Sir James, attack made by, upon the rear of 
 Gen. 11. Howe s forces, near Savannah, 687. 
 
 Balcarras, Lord, gallantry of, displayed at Bemis 
 heights, 557, 559. 
 
 Balfour, Col., tyrannical conduct of, in Charleston, 
 880. 
 
 Ball, Lieut., surrender of, to the French, in 1756, 91. 
 
 Baltimore, Congress adjourns to meet at, in 1776, 414. 
 
 Barre, Isaac, in Wolfe s expedition against Quebec, 
 109. 
 
 Barren hill, skilful retreat of Lafayette from, 624. 
 
 Barrett, Col., at Concord, 144 ; the bridge at Concord 
 defended by, 145. 
 
 Barry, Capt., exploits of, on the Delaware, in 1778, 
 623 ; capture of the Raleigh, commanded by, 671. 
 
 Barry, Major, Simms account of the capture of, 89>). 
 
 Barton, Col., capture of Gen. Prescott by, on Rhode 
 island honors and rewards received by, from Con 
 gress, 501. 
 
 Basking Ridge, capture of Gen. Lee at, 410 
 
 Baume, Col., expedition against Bennington command 
 ed by instructions of Burgoyne to, 518, 521, 522 ; 
 letter written by, to Burgoyne, 519 ; asks reinforce 
 ments from Burgoyne, 520 ; deserted by his Indians, 
 521, 522 ; attacked in his intrenchments, 521 ; his 
 brave defense mortally wounded, 5.2. 
 
 Baxter, Col., position of, in the defense of Fort Wash 
 ington, 389 ; killed in the attack, 390. 
 
 Baylor, Col., surprise and massacre of light-Lorse 
 under, 674. 
 
 Beaumarchais, French financial agent, 620. 
 
 Bellamy, George Anne, anecdote of Braddock told by, 
 52. 
 
 B. lleisle, Count de, death of, at Exilles, 95. 
 
I AND IT.] 
 
 IN DEX. 
 
 929 
 
 Bemis heights, the American army at, 537 ; encamp 
 ments at, 538 ; position of the British and American 
 forces at, 53!) ; battle at, 540 ; victory at, claimed by 
 Burgoyne, 542 ; the ammunition of the Americans 
 nearly exhausted at, 544 ; the second battle at, 556; 
 killed and wounded at the second battle of, 500. 
 
 Beunington, expedition against, under Bauine, 517 ; 
 battle of, 521 ; consequences of the British defeat 
 at, 52:3. 
 
 Bermuda, inhabitants of, and the cause of America, 
 230. 
 
 Bernie, Major, death of. at Monk s Corner, 725. 
 
 Billingsport, works at, taken by Col Stirling, 585. 
 
 Black Mingo swamp, party of tories defeated by 
 Marion near, 812. 
 
 " Bloody Hill," foray made by, from Charleston, 892. 
 
 Bon llomme Richard, engagement of the, with the 
 Scrap is, 704, 710. 
 
 Bordentown, storehouses destroyed at, C26. 
 
 Boston, artillery and ammunition of, seized by Gage, 
 140 ; citizens of, remove to the country, 160 ; dispo 
 sition of the American forces near, 161 ; force and 
 position of the American and British armies at the 
 siege of, 188 ; sufferings of the British army in, 190, 
 
 230 ; hopes of the tory citizens of, 191 ; opinions as 
 to the propriety of an attack upon. 217 ; firewood 
 supplies disturbance of a dramatic performance in, 
 
 231 ; Washington authorized to make an assault 
 upon, 233 ; movements of the British in, 234 ; 
 Washington in favor of an assault upon, over the 
 ice, 243 ; bombardment of the British in, 244 ; plan 
 of Washington for an attack upon, 245 ; insecurity 
 of the British in, 247 ; preparations for the evacua 
 tion of, 248 ; plunder of stores in, 250 ; evacuation 
 of, 252 ; departure of tories fiom, 252, 254 ; taken 
 possession of, by the American forces, 253 ; small 
 pox prevalent in, 254 ; joy caused throughout the 
 colonies by the evacuation of, 256 ; news of the 
 evacuation of, how received in England, 257 ; Brit 
 ish ves<els-of war driven from British transports 
 captured in the harbor of, 281. 
 
 Boston Neck, fortified by Gen. Gage, in 1775, 140. 
 
 Boston port- bill, 138, 139. 
 
 Boston " tea-party," 138. 
 
 Boundbrook. Lincoln driven out of, by Cornwallis, 464. 
 
 Bowling -Green, New York, leaden effigy of George 
 III. in destroyed, 306. 
 
 Boyd, Capt , Major Andre delayed by, at Crowpond, 
 771. 
 
 Braddock, Fanny, biographical notice of, 48 ; suicide 
 of. 50. 
 
 Braddock, Gen., biographical notice of, 47-52 ; a strict 
 disciplinarian, 53, 64 ; arrives in Hampton Roads 
 council of governors called by, at Alexandria, 55 ; 
 slow progress of the army of 63 ; arrival of the 
 army of, at Fort Cumberland, (13; a funeral in the 
 canip of, 64; his treatment of the Indians. 65 ; his 
 
 neglect of Captain Jack, 66, 67; his anger against 
 the provinces, 68 ; his precautions against surprise, 
 73 ; sudden attack upon, at the Monongahela, 76 ; 
 his conduct on the field of battle, 77 ; retreat ordered 
 by mortally wounded, 78 ; his impatience for death, 
 79 ; deserted by his troops joined by Gage, 80 ; his 
 death at Great Meadows funeral services for, read 
 by Washington 81 ; effect of the defeat of, 85. 
 
 Bradstreet, Col., his efforts for the relief of Oswego, 
 91, 94 ; sudden attack upon, by French and Indians, 
 92 ; in the expedition against Ticonderoga, 1U4 ; 
 Fort Frontenac taken by, 105. 
 
 Brandy wine river, position of Washington s army on, 
 before the battle, 531 ; crossed by Howe and Corn 
 wallis rout of Sullivan s division at the battle of, 
 534 ; the American army retreats after the battle of, 
 killed and wounded at the battle of, 535. 
 
 Brant, joins with Walter Butler, in an expedition 
 against Cherry Valley, 676 ; Miuinsink settlement 
 ravaged by, 679. 
 
 Breed s hill, intrenchments thrown up on, 163 ; forti 
 fications on cannonaded from Copp s hill and men- 
 of-war, 164 ; panic among the men on, 1 i5 ; prepa 
 rations by the British for an attack upon, 166 ; 
 attack upon, intrusted to Maj.-Gen. Howe, 167 ; 
 arrival of Warren and Pomeroy at, 169 ; the assault 
 upon, 171 ; repulse of the British at, 172 ; officers 
 picked off at, 173 ; second repulse of the British at, 
 174 ; reinforcements of marines brought to Howe 
 at, Ii5 ; failure of ammunition to the defenders of, 
 175, 176 ; third attack of the British upon, 175 ; 
 retreat from, 176 ; killed and wounded at, 178 ; 
 British officers who fell at, 180. 
 
 Breyman, Col. , at the battle of Bennington, 522. 
 
 Brier creek, Ashe defeated at, by Provost, 690. 
 
 Bromfield, Major, kills Col Ledyard, at Fort Griswold, 
 after its surrender, 906. 
 
 Bronx river, American army encamped on, 375. 
 
 Brooklyn, troops at, reinforced, 322 ; visit of Wash 
 ington to, 325 ; arrival of Mifflin in, with reinforce 
 ments retreat from, determined upon by a council 
 of war, 332 ; American works at, taken possession 
 of by Gen. Howe, 337. 
 
 Brunswick, Franklin and Adams at, on their way to 
 the quarters of Lord Howe, 344 ; retreat of Wash 
 ington to, 399 ; British kept in check at, by Alex. 
 Hamilton, 405 ; march of the army of Washington 
 to, after the battle of Monmouth court martial at, 
 for the trial of Gen. Lee, 642. 
 
 Brush, Crean, stores in Boston plundered by, 250. 
 
 Buford, Col , his troops massacred by Tarleton, 729. 
 
 Bunker s hill, occupation of, advocated, 161 ; the 
 neighborhood of, described, 162 ; breastwork raised 
 on, 166 ; defenses on, 169 ; disposition of the Amer 
 ican forces at the battle of, 171 ; efforts of Putnam 
 to rally the Americans at, 177 ; breastwork raised 
 on, by the British, 178. 
 
930 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 [PARTS 
 
 Burgoyne, Gen., anecdote of (,iote), 160; scene at the 
 battle of Breed s hill described by, 173 ; biographi 
 cal notice of. 483, 484 ; welcomed and aided by (Jov. 
 Carleton. in Canada force under his directions to 
 his Indian allies, 485 ; proclamation issued by, 488 ; 
 approach of, to Ticonderoga, 490 ; breaks through 
 the bridge, boom, and chain, supposed to protect 
 Skenesborough, 494 ; delay of, at Skenesborougli, 
 498, 500 ; proclamation issued by, 500 ; slow prog 
 ress of, towards Fort Anne, 509 ; unable to restrain 
 his Indians, 510 ; greatly in need of horses, 517 ; ex 
 pedition sent by, against Bennington encampment 
 of, opposite Saratoga, 518 ; determination of, to form 
 a junction with Howe, if possible, 536 ; crosses the 
 Hudson to Saratoga operations of Lincoln in the 
 rear of, 537 ; army of, harrassed on its march by 
 Arnold, 538 ; letter of, to Sir G. Carleton, after the 
 battle at Bemis heights, 542 ; letter received by, 
 from Sir H. Clinton, 544 ; deserted by many of his 
 Indians fortifies his camp advises an attack on 
 Fort Montgomery scarcity of provisions in the 
 camp of, 54") ; compelled to fight or starve, 555 ; 
 narrow escape of, at the second battle of Bemis 
 heights camp abandoned by, in the night, 560 ; 
 cautious retreat of, towards Saratoga, 562, 563 ; re 
 treat of, from Saratoga, 566 ; condition of affairs in 
 the camp of, 567 ; desperate plans of, for extrication 
 from his position. 569 ; completely hemmed in, 570 ; 
 negotiates for surrender, and agrees on terms, 571 ; 
 hears too late from Sir II. Clinton, 572 ; the surren 
 der of, 573 ; friendly footing established between, 
 and Gen. Gates, 574 ; a prisoner on parole. 925. 
 
 Burr, Aaron a volunteer in Arnold s Quebec expedi 
 tion. 196 ; way of escape from New York pointed 
 out to Putnam by, 351. 
 
 Burton, Col., at the battle of the Monongahela, 77. 
 
 Bushuell, contrivance of, for blowing up British ships, 
 314 ; plan of, favored by Putnam, 315 ; his "Ameri 
 can Turtle" sent to th:> bottom, 371. 
 
 Butler, Col., yn jcrx surprised by, near Tarry town, 675. 
 
 Butler, Col. John, British and Indians led by, against 
 Wyoming, 653 ; Wyoming abandoned by, G50. 
 
 Butler, Col W., expedition of, against Indians, 676. 
 
 Butler, Col. Zc;b., defense of Wyoming undertaken by, 
 652 ; defeat and massacre of the troops under, 654. 
 
 Butler, Walter, escape of, from prison, at Albany 
 
 expedition of, against settlers in Tryon county, 676. 
 
 C. 
 
 CADWALLADER, Col. Lambert, at the defense of Fort 
 Washington, 389; efforts of, to co-operate with 
 Washington at Trenton, 423 ; march of, to Borden- 
 town, 426; appointment as brigadier general not 
 ace pted by, 452 ; dud of, with Gen. Conway, 617. 
 
 Ctesar and Isis, battle between the, 602. 
 
 Cald\\vll, Mrs., shot dead in her own house, 748. 
 
 Caldwell, Rev. Mr. , shot by a sentinel (note), 748 ; 
 distributes hymn-books to the militia for wadding, 
 751. 
 
 Callender, Capt. , bad conduct of, at Breed s hill, 172. 
 
 Cambridge, commotion created in, by the arrival of 
 General Howe at Charlestown, 168 ; apprehensions 
 of a British attack upon, 181 ; arrival of Washing-ton 
 at, 186 ; centre of the continental army at, 189 ; 
 want of discipline in the army at. 214 ; visit of the 
 committee of Congress to the camp at, 216; sickness 
 in the camp at, 220 ; appearance of the camp at, 
 227 ; copy of the king s speech sent to the camp at, 
 by the British commander, 233. 
 
 Camden, battle of, 740 ; killed and wounded at, 745 ; 
 several prisoners taken at, hanged by order of Corn- 
 wallis, 793 ; march of Gen. Greene towards, 843 ; 
 attempt of Greene to surprise Lord Eawdon at, 854 ; 
 evacuated and burned by Ilawdon, 861 ; miserable 
 fate of the loyalists of, 862. 
 
 Campbell, Col. , of Virginia, at King s mountain, 796 ; 
 at Hobkirk s hill, 857 ; death of, at Eutaw Springs, 
 889. 
 
 Campbell, Lieut.-Col., death of, in his attack on Fort 
 Montgomery, 552. 
 
 Campbell, Lieut.-Col., and British troops, made pri 
 soners on board transports in Boston harbor, 282 ; 
 harsh treatment of, at Concord efforts of Washing 
 ton in favor of, 444 ; expedition sent to the South 
 under the command of, 686 ; tro.ips landed by, near 
 Savannah Gen. Pravost ordered toco-operate with, 
 687 ; Augusta taken possession of by, 688. 
 
 Campbell, Lord W. , governor of South Carolina, mor 
 tally wounded at the siege of Charleston, 294. 
 
 Canada, conquest of, determined on by Pitt, 107 . 
 expedition against, resolved upon by Washington, 
 193 ; desire of Benedict Arnold to attempt the con 
 quest of, 194 ; invasion of, intrusted to Gen. Schuy- 
 ler, 195; expedition against, intrusted to Arnold, 196; 
 efforts of Ethan Allen and Major Brown to obtain 
 recru ts in, 198 ; Gen. Lee ordered to take command 
 of the army in, 258 ; letter of Washington to 
 Schuyler, relative to affairs in, 262 ; commissioners 
 appointed to visit, 263 ; condition of affairs in, as 
 described by the commissioners, 275. 
 
 Canadians, cruelties practised by, on English prison 
 ers, during Wolfe s siege of Quebec, 114. 
 
 Canseau, taken by the French, 7 ; the rendezvous of 
 the expedition against Louisburg in 1745. 13. 
 
 Cape Breton, captured by the provincials, CO ; ceded 
 to France by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, 32. 
 
 Cape Finisterre, French fleet defeated off, in 1746, 32. 
 
 Captain Jack, biographical notice of, 66. 
 
 Carleton, Sir G., in Wolfe s expedition against Que 
 bec, 109 ; at Ticonderoga and Crown Point, 195, 197; 
 defeat of e.-cape of, at Montreal, 201 ; escape of, 
 past the mouth of the Sorel, in disguise arrival 
 of, at Quebec, 207 ; measures taken by, for the 
 
I AND II.] 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 931 
 
 defense of Quebec, 208; humanity of, towards Ameri 
 can prisoners, 2GO ; reinforcements received by, at 
 Quebec, 278 ; fleet launched by, at St. Johns, 366 ; 
 Crown Point taken possession of and abandoned by, 
 370 ; services rendered by, to Burgoyne, 485. 
 
 Carlisle, Earl of, British commissioner, character of, 
 628 ; challenge sent to, by Lafayette, (note) 631. 
 
 Caswell, Gen., in command of North Carolina militia, 
 736 ; forms a junction with Gates, 739. 
 
 Cedars, a fort on the St. Lawrence, surrender of, 272. 
 
 Cedar Springs, attempted surprise of Col. Clark at, 735. 
 
 Champe, Sergt., attempts to abduct Arnold, 786. 
 
 Charleston, preparations for the defense of, 289 ; chief 
 command at, assumed by Gen. Lee, 290 ; aid brought 
 to, by Pulaski, 691 ; propositions for surrender made 
 by the defenders of, to Prevost retreat of Prevost 
 from, on the approach of Lincoln, 692 ; siege of, by 
 Sir H. Clinton, 723 ; surrender of, by Lincoln, 728 ; 
 movements of Clinton after the fall of, 729 ; Lord 
 Rawdon held in check at, by Marion and Sumter, 
 863 ; evacuation of, by the British, 895. 
 
 Charlestown, panic in, 149 ; shelled and set on fire by 
 order of Gage, 173 ; houses in, burned by order of 
 Putnam, 232. 
 
 Charlottesville, state assembly dispersed at, 848. 
 
 Chastcllux, Marquis de, accompanies Rochambeau to 
 America, 753 ; visit of, to Mount Vernon, 904. 
 
 Chatham, Earl of, speech of, in Parliament, on Ameri 
 can affairs, after the surrender of Burgoyne, 577. 
 
 Chaudiere river, arrival of Arnold at narrow escape 
 of Arnold and his party from a cataract on, 205. 
 
 Cherokee Indians, Col. Gist authorized to raise a num 
 ber of, for service against the British, in 1777, 452. 
 
 Cherry Valley, expedition of Walter Butler and Brant 
 against, 676 ; massacre of the inhabitants of, 677. 
 
 Chesterfield, Lord, remarks of, on colonial affairs, 99. 
 
 Cheyney, Thomas, important information given by, to 
 Washington, at the battle of the Brandywine, 533. 
 
 Church, Dr., attempted treasonable correspondence of, 
 with Capt. Wallace, 218 ; subsequent fate of, 219. 
 
 Clarke, Major G. R., biographical notice of expedition 
 of, to recover Vincennes from the British, 693. 
 
 Clinton, Col. and Gen. James, in command of Fort 
 Montgomery and Fort Constitution, 286 ; warned by 
 Washington of the approach of British ships-of- 
 war, 371 ; wound received by, while defending Fort 
 Clinton, 552 ; at the siege of Yorktown, 911. 
 
 Clinton, Gen. Geo. , militia in command of, 807; co-oper 
 ation of, with Heath, in the Highlands, 385 ; appoin 
 ted brigadier-general, 452 ; New York militia called 
 out by, 549 ; his defense of Fort Montgomery, 551 ; 
 narrow escape of, before the surrender, 552 ; move 
 ments of, after the fall of Forts Montgomery and 
 Clinton, 553 ; hangs two British spies, 554. 
 
 Clinton, Sir Henry, arrival of, at Boston, 160 ; bio 
 graphical notice of, 288 ; at the siege of Charleston, 
 291 ; repulse of, 293 ; at the battle of Long island, 
 2-b 
 
 324 ; efforts of, to form a junction with Burgoyne, 
 548 ; lands at Tarrytown and Verplanck s Point, 549 ; 
 sudden attack made by, upon Forts Clinton and 
 Montgomery, 550 ; letter of, to Burgoyne, 554 ; 
 scheme of Washington for seizing the person of, 623 ; 
 Lafayette sent to watch the movements of, 624 ; 
 secrecy of the movements of, 632 ; measures taken 
 by Washington for harassing the retreat of, 633 ; 
 puts his baggage in front and his best troops in the 
 rear, 634; retreat of, after the battle of Monnurath 
 losses sustained by the army of, 641 ; movement of, 
 for the defense of Rhode Island, 6G5 ; attack upon 
 Little Egg Harbor planned by, 674 ; expedition of, 
 against South Carolina, 721 ; movements of, in South 
 Carolina, 729 ; return of, to New York, 731 ; con 
 tempt of, for the meanness of Arnold, 778 ; refuses 
 to exchange Arnold for Andre, 784 ; emissaries sent 
 by, among the mutineers at Morristown, 824 ; delu 
 sion of, as to Washington s proposed attack upon 
 New York, 904. 
 
 Coates, Col., surprised at Quinby bridge, 875; stand 
 made by, at Shubrick s plantation, 877. 
 
 Coffin, Capt., command of, cut to pieces by Col. Wash 
 ington after the battle at Hobkirk s hill, 860. 
 
 Colerus, M. , annoys Washington by importunities, 471. 
 
 Collier, Admiral Sir G., the Massachusetts expedition 
 against McLean, at Penobscot bay, broken up by, 713. 
 
 Commissioners, British, arrival of, at Philadelphia, in 
 1778, 628 ; personal description of, 628, 629 ; re 
 ception of, 629 ; despatches sent by, to Congress 
 reply of Congress to efforts made by, to bribe dis 
 tinguished Americans, 630 ; efforts of, to turn to 
 account the national prejudice against the French, 
 631 ; total failure of all their exertions, 632. 
 
 "Common Sense," Paine s pamphlet, influence of, 30-1. 
 
 " Conciliatory bills," of Lord North, how received, 628. 
 
 Concord, design of Gen. Gage to seize arms and am 
 munition at, 140; as it was in 1775 stores destroyed 
 at, by Col. Smith, 144; the battle at the north bridge 
 of, 145. 
 
 Congress and Montgomery, burning of the frigates, 
 on the Hudson, 553. 
 
 Connecticut Farms, in New Jersey, plundered and 
 burned by Knyphausen Mrs. Caldwell shot dead 
 in her own house at, 748. 
 
 Connecticut, mercenary spirit pervading the troops 
 from, 222 ; troops from, anxious to leave the con 
 tinental army, 224 ; places of troops from, supplied 
 from Massachusetts and New Hampshire, 226 ; body 
 of light-horse from, discharged by Washington, 298 ; 
 desertions from the army in New York, of the 
 militia from, 339. 
 
 Continental army, adoption of, 158 ; generals chosen 
 for, 158, 188 ; constituent elements of, 158 ; com 
 mand of, assumed by Washington, 186 ; description 
 of the camp of, at Cambridge generals appointed 
 for, 187 ; little discipline in, 189, 214 ; hunting-shirts 
 
INDEX. 
 
 [PARTS 
 
 recommended for, 189 ; alarming want of ammuni 
 tion in, 189, 190 ; arrival of ammunition in the camp 
 of, 192 ; condition of, 220 ; characteristics of the 
 Massachusetts officers in difficulty experienced in 
 selecting officers for, 221 ; resolution to reorganize, 
 222; little patriotism displayed by the Massachusetts 
 soldiers in, 225; improved condition of affairs in, 226; 
 necessity for the reorganization of, 358 ; efforts of 
 Congress to procure enlistments in (note), 359. 
 
 Continental money, extreme depreciation of, 720. 
 
 Contrecoeur, the British fort on the Ohio fork taken by, 
 35 ; his fears of the force of Braddock, 82 ; Indian 
 cruelties towards British prisoners witnessed by, 83. 
 
 Conway, Col. and Gen., impression produced upon 
 Washington by, 471 ; at the battle of the Brandy- 
 wine, 535 ; intriguing letter written by, 613 ; at 
 tempt of, to explain away his words to Washington 
 resignation offered by appointed inspector-gen 
 eral of the army officers in conspiracy with, to 
 supplant Washington cabal of, brought to an issue 
 by Washington s letter, 614 ; instrumentality of 
 Wilkinson and Lord Stirling in exposing the cabal 
 of, 615, 616 ; impertinent letters written by, to 
 Washington resignation of, accepted wounded in 
 a duel with Gen. Cadwallader penitent letter writ 
 ten by, to Washington, 617. 
 
 Cook, Capt., the navigator, in the expedition against 
 Louisburg, in 1758, 103 ; in Wolfe s expedition 
 against Quebec, 109. 
 
 Cornwallis, Earl, at the battle of Long island, 324 ; 
 movements of, to attack Fort Lee, 393 ; carelessness 
 of, in New Jersey, 418 ; command in New Jersey 
 resumed by, 427 ; confidence of, at Assumpink creek, 
 432 ; hears thunder from Princeton, 435 ; alarmed 
 for his stores at Brunswick, 437 ; permitted to send 
 money and stores to Hessian prisoners, 448 ; takes 
 possession of Philadelphia, 580 ; arrives at Charles 
 ton, 726 ; left in command in South Carolina, 731 ; 
 night-march of, towards Clermont, 739 ; rigorous 
 measures of, after the battle of Camden, 792; retreats 
 from Salisbury, 802 ; position of his forces, on 
 Greene s taking command in the South, 810 ; bag 
 gage destroyed by, to facilitate his pursuit of Morgan, 
 819, 826 ; crosses the Catawba river, at night 828 ; 
 narrow escape of, while crossing the Catawba, 829 ; 
 retires from the Dan to Ilillsborough, 833 ; leaves 
 Hillsborough for Allamance creek, 836 ; harassed by 
 Col. Williams, and by Pickens and Lee, 837 ; move 
 ment of, to attack Greene at Guilford courthouse, 
 838 ; manoeuvre resorted to by, at Guilford court 
 house, 840 ; retreats to Cross creek, 842 ; marches 
 to Wilmington, N. C., determines to form a junc 
 tion with Phillips and Arnold, in Virginia, 843 ; de 
 terred from attempting to surprise Lafayette, 846 ; 
 deception practiced by, on Lafayette ordered by 
 Sir II. Clinton to send a portion of his troops to New 
 York determines to seek the cover of Portsmouth, 
 
 849; devastations of , in Virginia and North Carolina, 
 851; concentrates his whole force at Yorktown, 896; 
 shut up in Yorktown by Lafayette, St. Simon, and 
 De Grasse, 897 ; ordered by Clinton to send several 
 of his regiments to the North, 899 ; Washington s 
 secret intention to march against, 901 ; reinforce 
 ments promised to, by Clinton, 909 ; confidence of, 
 to hold Yorktown, 910 ; situation of, at Yorktown, 
 915 ; last letter received by, from Clinton, 917 ; pro 
 positions of, for the surrender of Yorktown, 918 ; 
 a guest at the headquarters of Washington, 922 ; 
 subsequent career of, 925. 
 
 Cow-boys, arrest Major Andre near Tarrytown, 772. 
 
 Cowpens, account of Col. Tarleton s defeat at, 814, 818. 
 
 Cressop, "the rattlesnake colonel," roguery of, (J3, 68. 
 
 Crown Point, expedition against, 87 ; capture of, by 
 "Green-Mountain Boys," 155; determination to with 
 draw the army from, 285 ; wretched condition of 
 the American troops at, 364 ; fleet of Arnold at, 365 ; 
 taken possession of, by Carleton, 370. 
 
 Cruger, Col. defense of Ninety-Six by, 865 ; left at 
 Ninety-Six to protect the retreat, 871 ; in command 
 of American royalists, at Eutaw Springs, 885. 
 
 Culpepper volunteers, flag and motto of, 238 ; Gov. 
 Dunmore s attempt on Hampton defeated by, 239. 
 
 Cunningham, (Jen., encounter of a body of tories 
 under, with Gen. Sumter, 892. 
 
 Cunningham, W., foray made by, from Charleston, 892. 
 
 Custis, J. P., with his mother at Cambridge, 225 ; ac 
 companies Washington as aid, 904. 
 
 Custis, Mrs. Martha, marriage of, to Washington, 185. 
 
 D. 
 
 DAXBUKY,Tryon s expedition to destroy stores at Sul 
 livan s efforts for the defense of, 464; stores at, des 
 troyed, 465 ; retreat of Tryon from, 466 ; Gates and 
 McDougall stationed at, 673. 
 
 Dan river, retreat of Gen. Greene to, 831 ; recrossed 
 by Greene after the retreat of Cornwallis, 833. 
 
 D Anville, failure of, to recapture Louisburg, 31. 
 
 Davidson, Gen., defends the fords of the Catawba 
 against Cornwallis, 828 ; shot dead while mounting 
 his horse, 829. 
 
 Dearborn, Major IT., with Gates at Still water, 537. 
 
 De Barras, arrives safe with his squadron in the 
 Chesapeake, 905. 
 
 De Beaujeu, death of, in his attack upon Braddock, 76; 
 the ambuscade for Braddock was contrived by, 82. 
 
 Deborre, Gen., ill conduct of, at the battle of the 
 Brandywine, 534, 535. 
 
 De Bougainville, retreat of, at Quebec, 130. 
 
 Declaration of Independence, adoption of, 303 ; read 
 to the American army in New York, 305. 
 
 De Grasse, Admiral, arrives with a fleet in the Chesa 
 peake, 896 ; fight between his fleet and that of Ad 
 miral Graves, 905 ; Lafayette urged by, to attack 
 Cornwallis, 907; interview of Washington with,908 ; 
 
I AND II.] 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 933 
 
 urged to aid in the siege of Yorktown, 909 ; sub 
 sequent career of (note), 924. 
 
 De Heister, Hessians under, at the battle of Long 
 Island, 324 ; surrender of Lord Stirling to, 329. 
 
 De Kalb, Baron, arrives at Charleston, S. C., 506; 
 made a major-general, 508 ; march of troops under, 
 from Morristown to the South, 736 ; superseded by 
 Gates in command of the Southern army, 737 ; at 
 the. battle of Camden, 741 ; mortally wounded at the 
 battle of Camden biographical notice of (note), 743. 
 
 Delancey, Oliver, biographical notice of, 360 ; efforts 
 of, to raise recruits among the tories on Long Island, 
 361 ; expedition planned by Washington against the 
 loyalists under, at Morrisania, 898 
 
 Delaplace, Capt., Ticonderoga surrendered by, 155. 
 
 Delaware, surrender of the, to the British, 585. 
 
 Delaware river, crossed by the retreating army of 
 Washington arrival of the troops of Cornwallis at, 
 405 ; efforts of Washington to prevent the British 
 from crossing, 416; obstructions placed in, and forts 
 on, 579 ; efforts of Sir W. Howe to secure the com 
 mand of, 580, 584, 587 ; American vessels destroyed 
 on, 591, 626, 671. 
 
 Delawares and Shawnees, singular origin of a war 
 between, 650. 
 
 De Levi, defeats Gen. Murray, near Quebec, 133. 
 
 Denison, Col., surrenders Fort Forty to Col. John 
 Butler, 655. 
 
 De Peyster. Capt. , surrender of, at King s mountain, 
 after the death of Col. Ferguson, 800. 
 
 D Estaing, Count, too late to cage Lord Howe in the 
 Delaware biographical notice of, 658 ; in pursuit 
 of Howe s fleet fears to attack Howe within Sandy 
 Hook sails for Newport single vessels of Byron s 
 fleet escape, 659; swears at the English luck, 660; sails 
 out of Newport to fight the fleet of Howe, 661 ; fleet 
 of, dispersed by a storm, 662 ; returns to Newport 
 determines to return to Boston, to refit indigna 
 tion of Sullivan at the conduct of offence taken by, 
 at Sullivan, 663 ; letter written by, to Congress 
 officers of the fleet of, hooted in the streets of Bos 
 ton, 664 ; co-operates with Lincoln in the siege of 
 Savannah, 714 ; the siege raised through the obsti 
 nacy of, 717 ; returns to France, 718. 
 
 Destouches, M., naval forces sent by, to blockade 
 Arnold in Portsmouth, 843; blockaded by the British 
 in Newport driven away from the Chesapeake by 
 Admiral Arbuthnot, 844. 
 
 DeVaudreuil, his conduct after Montcalm s defeat, 131. 
 
 De Villiers, Fort Necessity surrendered to, 43. 
 
 Dickenson, Gen. Phil., performs a gallant action, 448. 
 
 Dieskau, Baron, approach of, to Lake George, 88 ; de 
 feated by Col. William Johnson, at Lake George, 89. 
 
 Dillon, Count, at the siege of Savannah, 717. 
 
 Dobbs ferry, Gen. Howe with the main body of his 
 army at supplies sent to, by Lord Howe, 384 ; 
 Washington joined by Rochambeau at, 898. 
 
 Donop, Count, defeat and death of, at Fort Mercer, 586 ; 
 flight of the troops of, to Haddonfield, 587. 
 
 Dorchester, S. C., abandoned by the garrison, on the 
 approach of Lee and Hampton, 874; British garrison 
 driven out of, by Greene, 894. 
 
 Dorchester heights, preparations of Washington for 
 an attempt upon, 243 ; description of the occupation 
 of, 244; attempt to dislodge Washington from, 
 given up by Howe, 247. 
 
 Doyle, Major, succeeds Col. Stewart after the battle of 
 Eutaw Springs, 891 ; ravages of, on the Santee and 
 Congaree, 893. 
 
 Drake, sloop-of war, captured by Paul Jones, 669. 
 
 Duchambon, the surrender of Louisburg demanded 
 from, by Pepperell and Warren, 27. 
 
 Ducoudray, M. , claims of, to command American ar 
 tillery drowned while crossing the Schuylkill, 471. 
 
 Dunbar, Col. Thomas, in command of one of Brad- 
 dock s regiments, 54 ; panic in the camp of, after 
 Braddock s defeat, 81 ; cowardly retreat of, 84. 
 
 Dundas, Col. , associated with Arnold in his expedition 
 to Virginia, 820. 
 
 Dunmore, Lord, refuge taken by, on board a ship- of - 
 war his attempt on Hampton defeated joined by 
 tories from Norfolk, 239 ; Norfolk cannonaded and 
 burned by, 240 ; departure of, to St. Augustine, 241. 
 
 Duplessis, strengthens the defenses at Fort Mercer, 585. 
 
 Duquesne, Marquis, forts established by, in 1753, 33. 
 
 E. 
 EDEN, W., British commissioner to the United States, 
 
 629. 
 
 Edge hill, near Philadelphia, skirmish at, in 1777, 596. 
 Edge worth, Maria, notice of (note), 762. 
 Edgeworth, Richard Lovell, notice of (note), 761. 
 Edmondston, Capt., death of , at King s mountain, 800. 
 Eggleston, Major, at the battle of Eutaw Springs, 888. 
 Elizabethtown, British incursion to, from Staten 
 
 Island, 721. 
 
 Elk river, Howe s troops land on the, in 1777, 530. 
 Emerson, Rev. W., describes the camp at Cambridge, 
 
 187. 
 Enos, Col. , deserts Arnold on his Quebec expedition, 
 
 204. 
 Erskine, Sir W., with Try on in his attack on Danbury, 
 
 464. 
 
 Esopus, burned by the British under Vaughan, 553. 
 Eutaw Springs, retreat of the British under Stewart 
 
 to, 883 ; battle of, 884 ; killed and wounded at, 890. 
 Eyre, Col., mortally wounded at Fort Griswold, 906. 
 Eyres, Major, his defense of Fort William Henry, 98. 
 
 F. 
 FAIRFAX, Bryan, visits Washington at Valley Forge, 
 
 618. 
 
 Fail-field, Conn. , laid in ashes by the British, 698. 
 Fairlawn, British at, surrender to Col. Shelby, 893, 
 
INDEX. 
 
 [PARTS 
 
 Falmouth, bombardment and burning of, in 1775, 215. 
 
 Ferguson, Capt., expedition against Little Egg Harbor 
 intrusted to Pulaski s force surprised by, 675. 
 
 Ferguson, Col. Patrick, humanity of, 726 ; defeat and 
 death of, at King s mountain, 800. 
 
 Ferguson, Adam, British commissioner to the United 
 States, 629 ; refused a passport to Congress, 630. 
 
 Fitzgerald, Col., at the battle of Princeton, 434. 
 
 Five Nations, influence of Col. Wm. Johnson with, 88. 
 
 Flatbusli, night-march of Gen. Clinton from, 326. 
 
 Fleury, Capt. Louis, horse presented to, by Congress, 
 535 ; at the capture of Stony Point, 700. 
 
 Forbes, Gen., expedition of, against Fort Duquesne, 105. 
 
 Fordham heights, Howe s army encamped on, 386. 
 
 Fordyce, Capt., death of, at the head of grenadiers, in 
 a conflict with Virginia riflemen, 240. 
 
 Fort Clinton, defense of, against Sir H. Clinton, by 
 Gen. James Clinton, 550 ; surrender of, 552. 
 
 Fort Clinton, at West Point, erected by Kosciusko, 624. 
 
 Fort Constitution, opposite West Point, 286. 
 
 Fort Duquesne, constructed by Mercier, in 1754, 40 ; 
 determination of Gen. Braddock to proceed against, 
 56; feeble garrison of, 82; expedition against, under 
 Gen. Forbes, 105 ; taken by Forbes in 1758, 10G. 
 
 Fort Edward, the Northern army at, after St. Glair s 
 defeat miserable condition of the army at, 489 ; 
 Burgoyne determines to make a road through the 
 forest to, 500 : arrival of Burgoyne at, 512. 
 
 Fort Forty, at Wyoming, capitulation of refuge taken 
 in, by the survivors of the Wyoming massacre, 655. 
 
 Fort Frontenac, capture of, by Col. Bradstreet, 105. 
 
 Fort Granby, near Columbia, surrender of, 863. 
 
 Fort Griswold, defense of, by Col. Wm. Ledyard, 906. 
 
 Fort Hardy, the scene of Burgoyne s surrender, 573. 
 
 Fort Independence, summons of General Heath dis 
 regarded by the garrison of, 439. 
 
 Fort Johnson, near Charleston, 289. 
 
 Fort Lee, evacuation of, by Gen. Greene, 394. 
 
 Fort Levi, on Isle Royale, surrender of, in 1760, 133. 
 
 Fort Mercer, defense of, by Col. Greene death of 
 Count Donop at, 586 ; insufficient reinforcements 
 sent to, 587 ; taken by Cornwallis, 591. 
 
 Fort Mifflin, defense of, by Col. Smith. 587; batteries 
 erected against, on Province island, 588; guns of the 
 British Fleet brought to bear upon killed and 
 wounded at, 589. 
 
 Fort Montgomery, in command of Col. Jas. Clinton, 
 286 ; boom and chain recommended to be placed 
 across the Hudson at, 477 ; defense of, by Gov. G. 
 Clinton, 550 ; service rendered by Col. Lamb, in the 
 defense of, 551 ; surrender of, 552. 
 
 Fort Motte. surrender of, to Gen. Marion, 863. 
 
 Fort Moultrie. (See Fort Sullivan.) 
 
 Fort Necessity, constructed by Washington, 41 ; the 
 attack of the French awaited by Washington at, 42, 
 43 ; surrender of, 43 ; terms of capitulation at, 44 ; 
 destroyed by the French, 45 
 
 Fort Ontario, taken by Montcalm, 95. 
 
 Fort Schuyler, movements of Arnold for the relief of, 
 526 ; siege of, abandoned by Col. St. Leger, 527, 528. 
 
 Fort Stanwix, invested by Col. St. Leger defense of, 
 by Col. Gansevoort efforts to relieve, 512 ; sortie 
 made from, 513. (See Fort Schuyler ) 
 
 Fort Sullivan, in Charleston harbor, erected by Col. 
 Moultrie, 289 ; attack upon, 292 ; British cannonade 
 upon, 295 ; name of, changed to Fort Moultrie, 296. 
 
 Fort Washington, works at, under the superintendence 
 of Gen. Mifflin, 297 ; useless for the defense of the 
 Hudson, 307 ; Col. Magaw left in charge of, 375 ; 
 doiibts as to the utility of holding, 384 ; Greene and 
 Magaw in favor of defending, 385 ; investment of, 
 385, 386 ; condition of force of the defenders of 
 disposition of the British forces when attacking, 887; 
 attempt of Washington to reach, from Fort Lee 
 inadequacy of the defenses of, 388 ; simultaneous 
 attack of the British upon, 390 ; the attack npon, 
 witnessed from Fort Lee, 391 ; surrender of, 392 ; 
 name of, changed to Knyphausen prisoners taken 
 in, sent to New York loss sustained by the British 
 at the capture of, 393 ; treatment of the prisoners 
 taken at, 441. 
 
 Fort Watson, expedition of Marion and Lee agaiust 
 singular expedient adopted by the besiegers of, 855. 
 
 Fort William Henry, Vaudreuil s expedition against, 
 97 ; defense of, by Major Eyres, 98 ; capitulation 
 of, 99. 
 
 France, arrival of arms from, in 1777, 457 ; change in 
 the policy of, after the surrender of Burgoyne 
 independence of the United States acknowledged 
 by, 576 ; arrival at Valley Forge of the news of the 
 treaty with, 626 ; measures taken by the British on 
 becoming aware of the American treaty with, 627 ; 
 anniversary of the alliance with, celebrated in the 
 American camp, 683. 
 
 Franklin, Benjamin, visits Gen. Braddock at Fred- 
 ericktown, 59 ; conversation of, with Braddock 
 undertakes to procure wagons for the British army, 
 60 ; commendation bestowed upon, by Braddock 
 luxuries procured by, for Dunbar s and Halket s 
 subalterns, 61 ; his doubts of Braddock s success, 
 85 ; visits the American camp, at Cambridge, 216 ; 
 payment made to, by the Massachusetts general 
 court, for services in England money sent by the 
 hands of, from England, for the sufferers by the 
 battle of Lexington, 217 ; early intimacy of Admiral 
 Howe with, 309 ; pungent reply of, to a letter of 
 Lord Howe, 342 ; journey of, from Philadelphia to 
 Staten Island, 344 ; sharp remark made by, to Lord 
 Howe, 345 ; remark of, respecting the entrance of 
 the British into Philadelphia, 606 ; aid furnished by, 
 in fitting out Paul Jones squadron in France, 702. 
 
 Fraser, Gen., defeat of Gen. Thompson by, at Three 
 Rivers 277 ; commands a division of Burgoyne s 
 army, 485 ; attacks Francis and Warner, at 
 
I AND II. J 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 935 
 
 Hubbardton, 496 ; mortally wounded at Bemis 
 heights, 557 ; dying request of, 561 ; Burgoyne s 
 description of the burial of American honor to the 
 memory of, 562. 
 
 Fredericksburg, encampment of Washington at, 673. 
 
 Fry, Col. Joshua, in command of troops sent to the 
 Ohio, in 1754, 34 ; death of, at Will s creek, 41. 
 
 G. 
 
 GABROWSKT, Count, killed at Fort Montgomery, 552. 
 
 Gadsden, Col., in command of Fort Johnson, near 
 Charleston, 289 ; refuses liberty on parole, 793. 
 
 Gage, Col. and Gen., with Braddock at the Mononga- 
 hela, 76 ; appointed governor of Massachusetts, 137; 
 American colonists not understood by, 138 ; design 
 of, to seize arms and ammunition at Concord artil 
 lery and ammunition belonging to the city of Boston 
 seized by, 140 ; passes refused by force under the 
 command of, 160 ; proclamation issued by, 161 ; 
 alarm of, after the battle of Breed s hill, 181 ; suf 
 ferings of the army of, 190 ; a comrade of Washing 
 ton in Braddock s campaign correspondence with, 
 in relation to prisoners, 192 ; superseded by Gen. 
 Howe. 215. 
 
 Gainey, Major, surprised by Gen. Marion, 812. 
 
 Gansevoort, Col. P., in command of Fort Stanwix, 512. 
 
 Gardner, Col., death of, at Breed s hill, 177. 
 
 Garth, Gen., ravages of, in Connecticut, in conjunction 
 with Tryon, 697. 
 
 Gates, Horatio, appointed major-general, biographical 
 notice of, 282 ; letter of, to Charles Lee, 283 ; com 
 mand of the Northern army claimed by, 284 ; claims 
 of, resisted by Gen. Schuyler, 285 ; troops sent by, 
 to reinforce Washington, intercepted by Gen. Lee, 
 
 407 ; urged by Washington to hasten to Pittstown, 
 
 408 ; affected by the capture of Lee arrival of, 
 at the Delaware suspicions of, 413 ; junction of 
 his division with that of Washington, 414 ; conduct 
 of, on the eve of the attempt upon Trenton, 417; 
 unwilling to accept the position of adjutant-general, 
 458 ; supersedes Schuyler in command of the North 
 ern army, 459 ; restores the command to Schuyler, 
 481 ; requested to withdraw from the floor of Con 
 gress, 482 ; appointed by Congress to supersede 
 Schuyler in command of the Northern army popu 
 larity of, in New England letter of, describing the 
 condition of his command, 524 ; charges of cruelty 
 made by, denied by Burgoyne, 525 ; army of, large 
 ly reinforced officers under the command of, 537 ; 
 scarcity of ammunition in the camp of, 546 ; urged 
 by Arnold to attack Burgoyne, 555 ; his slow pur 
 suit of Burgoyne, 564 ; follows Burgoyne to the 
 Fishkill, 566 ; mistaken movement ordered by, on 
 Burgoyne s camp, 570 ; his courtesy towards Burg 
 oyne, at his surrender, 573 ; his movements towards 
 Albany, to meet Gen. Vaughan, 576 ; withholds re 
 inforcements from Washington, 587, 590 ; improper 
 
 conduct of, towards Washington, 613 ; appointed 
 to command the forces in the South, 736 ; prophetic 
 caution given to, by Gen. Lee precipitate march 
 of, to meet Lord RaAvdon at Camden, 737 ; priva 
 tions suffered by the troops of, on the march, 738, 
 739 ; detachment sent by, to reinforce Gen. Sumter 
 reinforced by Gen. Stevens, with Virginia militia 
 junction of the army of, with Gen. Caswell s 
 militia, 739 ; unexpected meeting of, with Corn- 
 wallis army, 740 ; total defeat of, 743 ; miserable 
 condition of the wreck of his army, 745 ; British as 
 cendency established in the South by the defeat of 
 humiliation of, 746 ; wretched condition of the 
 army of, at Hillsborough, 801 ; superseded by Gen 
 Greene affected by the kindness of Washington, 
 805 ; subsequent career of (note), 809. 
 George III., destruction of the leaden effigy of, at the 
 
 Bowling-Green, New York, 306. 
 Georgetown, on Winyaw bay, attacked and carried by 
 
 Marion, 864. 
 
 Gerard, M. , arrives in company with Silas Deane, from 
 France, 659 ; grand dinner given to, by Arnold, 758. 
 Germantown, Washington removes his camp to, 503 ; 
 retreat of Washington to, 578 ; encampment of Gen. 
 Howe at, 580 ; position of the British at plan of 
 attack upon the British in, 581 ; night-march to 
 British at, compelled to retreat battle at, lost by 
 delay at Chew s house, 582 ; panic among the 
 American troops at British nearly defeated at, 
 583 ; killed and wounded at retreat of Washington 
 from, to Perkimen creek, 584. 
 Gibbon, Lieut., forlorn hope led by, at the storming 
 
 of Stony Point, 700. 
 
 Gist, Braddock s guide, narrow escape of, 73. 
 Glasgow, a British twenty-gun ship, escape of, 269. 
 Gloucester, Va., investment of, by French and Amer 
 ican troops, 909 ; cavalry skirmish near, 910. 
 Glover, Col , regiment of, from Marblehead, 299 ; at 
 the retreat from Long island, 333 ; services of, in 
 removing the sick and stores, 349 ; resists Sir W. 
 Howe, near White Plains, 375 ; skirmishes with 
 Hessians, 381 ; appointed brigadier-general, 452 ; 
 with Gates at Stillwater, 537. 
 
 Grant, Col. and Gen., his opinion of American courage, 
 139 ; commands British troops on Long island, 324 ; 
 Stirling attacks, at the battle of Long island, 326 ; 
 out-manoeuvred by Lafayette at Matson s ford, 625. 
 Grant, Major, death of, at Ilubbardton, 496. 
 Graves, Admiral, attack by French and Americans 
 upon New York prevented by the arrival of, 754 
 ships of, engage those of Count de Grasse off the 
 capes of Virginia return of, with his crippled fleet, 
 to New York, 905. 
 Gravesend, Long island, landing of Howe s troops in 
 
 the neighborhood of, 322. 
 
 Graydon, treatment of, while a prisoner, 441 ; descrip 
 tion by, of Washington s camp at Morristown, 473. 
 
9 3G 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 [PARTS 
 
 Great Meadows, a position chosen by Washington in 
 1754, 37 ; Fort Necessity constructed by Washington 
 at, 41 ; arrival of Braddock at, 72 ; death of Brad- 
 dock at, 81. 
 Great Portage, formidable obstacles presented by, to 
 
 Arnold, on his way to Quebec, 203. 
 Greenburg, encampment of the French and American 
 
 forces on the hills of, 898. 
 Greene, Col. Christopher, his defense of Fort Mercer, 
 
 586 ; murdered by Delancey s men, 851. 
 Greene, Nathaniel, joins the patriot army at Cam 
 bridge, 151 ; commands the American troops on 
 Long island, 319 ; sickness of, at the time of Howe s 
 landing, 321 ; urgency of, for the evacuation of 
 New York, 340 ; difficulty of, with the New York 
 militia, 383 ; determined to defend Fort Washing 
 ton, 385 ; how consoled for the loss of the fort, 393 ; 
 covers the retreat at the battle of the Brandy wine, 
 535 ; movements of, in New Jersey, on the approach 
 of Clinton and Knyphausen, 749, 750; supersedes 
 Gates in the southern department, 805 ; biographical 
 notice of, 806 ; movements of, in the South, 809 ; 
 efforts of, to join Morgan after the battle of the 
 Cowpens, 827 ; destitute condition of the forces 
 under, 828 ; British pursuit of narrow escape of 
 assistance rendered to, 830 ; object of, in retiring 
 before Cornwallis, 831 ; sufferings of the army of, 
 832 ; receives reinforcements Fabian policy of, 837; 
 attacked by Cornwallis at Guilford courthouse, 838; 
 retreats to Reedy fork, 840 ; retreats to Troublesome 
 creek pursues Cornwallis, 842 ; deserted by his 
 militia, 843 ; marches into South Carolina, 854 ; 
 surprised by Lord Rawdon at Hobkirk s hill, 856 ; 
 gloomy forebodings of cheered by the news that 
 Rawdon had determined to evacuate Camden, 861 ; 
 Ninety-Six besieged by, 864 ; retreat of , pursued by 
 Rawdon siege of Ninety-Six abandoned by, on the 
 approach of Rawdon, 870 ; encampment of, on the 
 High hills of the Santee, 873; activity of the cavalry 
 of , 882 ; movement of, towards Eutaw Springs, 883 ; 
 attacks the British at Eutaw Springs, 884 ; returns 
 to the High hills of the Santee reinforcements re 
 ceived by, 891 ; resumes offensive operations. 892 ; 
 attempts of, to drive the British into Charleston, 
 893 ; panic in the garrison of Dorchester on the ap 
 proach of, 894 ; peaceable evacuation of Charleston 
 permitted by, on conditions, 895. 
 
 " Green Mountain Boys" and the New-Hampshire 
 grants, 152 ; hostility of Arnold towards, 195 ; ser 
 vices rendered by. under Seth Warner, 201. 
 Grenadiers, British, burned alive by Indians, 83. 
 Grey, Sir C., depredations of, at New Bedford and 
 Martha s Vineyard, COS ; light horse under Col. 
 Baylor surprised by, 674. 
 
 Gridley, Col. R., marks out lines on Breed s hill, 103. 
 Griffin, Col., attention of Count Donop diverted by, 
 during the attack upon Trenton, 423 
 
 Griffiths, Rev. David, warning given to Washington 
 by, on the eve of the battle of Mon mouth, 638 
 
 Guilford courthouse, battle at, 838 ; killed and 
 wounded at a dear victory to the British, 841. 
 
 Guiiby, Col., regiment of, at Hobkirk s hill, 858. 
 
 H. 
 
 HACKENSACK, encampment of Washington at, 386. 
 
 Hale, Capt. Nathan, hanged as a spy, 348. 
 
 Hale, Col., flight of, with a militia regiment at Hub- 
 
 bardton surrender of, to British troops, 496. 
 Halket, Sir Peter, colonel of one of Braddock s regi 
 ments, 54 ; death of, and his son, at Braddock s 
 defeat, 78. 
 
 Hamilton, Alexander, biographical notices of, 266, 459; 
 personal appearance of (note), 267 ; good conduct of, 
 at White Plains, 379 ; British held in check at 
 Brunswick by the artillery of, 405 ; received into 
 the military "family" of Washington, 459 ; affec 
 tionate treatment of, by Washington, 460 ; rein 
 forcements for Washington s army obtained by, 
 from Putnam and Gates, 590 ; Washington aband 
 ons the scheme of seizing the person of Clinton by 
 the advice of, 623 ; Arnold s treason made known 
 by, to Washington, 778 ; sympathy of, for Andre, 
 783 ; storms a British redoubt at Yorktown 
 misunderstanding of, with Washington (note), 913. 
 Hampton, Col. Wade, dragoons made prisoners by, 874. 
 Hancock, John, an early friend of the popular cause, 
 141 ; desirous to be made commander-iu-chief, 157. 
 Hand, Col., wheat destroyed by, on Long island, 322 ; 
 
 appointed brigadier-general by Congress, 452. 
 Harlem, position of both armies at the battle of, 353 ; 
 
 death of Col. Knowlton and Major Leitch at, 354. 
 Hartford, Washington visits, to meet Rochambeau, 763. 
 Haslet, Col., conduct of the Dela wares and Maryland- 
 era commanded by, at the battle of Long island, 327. 
 Haw river, party of loyalists under Col. Pyle surprised 
 
 near, 835 ; retreat of Tarleton across, 836. 
 Hayne, Col. Isaac, executed in Charleston, 879; case of, 
 similar to that of Andre proclamation issued by 
 Gen. Greene relative to the execution of, 881. 
 Hazelwood, Commodore, Hessians at Fort Mercer fired 
 
 upon by, 586 ; thanks voted to, by Congress, 587. 
 Heath, Gen , commands the provincials at Lexington, 
 148 ; biographical notice of, 375 ; forts under the 
 command of, 385 ; orders of Gen. Lee disregarded 
 by, 396 ; Lee s attempt to get two of his regiments, 
 401 ; certificate given to, by Lee, 402 ; letter of 
 Washington to, 438 ; movements of, near Fort Inde 
 pendence and Kingsbridge, 439 ; his conduct at 
 Fort Independence criticised, 440 ; appointed to 
 receive Rochambeau at Newport, 754. 
 Heights of Abraham, how ascended, by the army of 
 
 Wolfe, 127. 
 
 Henderson, Col., night-sortie made by, from Charles- 
 ton, 727 ; wounded at Eutaw Springs, 886. 
 
I AND II.] 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 937 
 
 Henley, Major Thomas, death of, in an attempt upon 
 Montressor s island, 358. 
 
 Henry, Patrick, urges a levy of troops in Virginia, 238. 
 
 Herkimer, Gen., efforts of, to relieve Fort Stanwix, 
 513 ; ambuscade laid for the troops of, 514 ; strug 
 gle of the troops of, with the "Johnson Greens" 
 death of, 515. 
 
 Hessians, ferocity of, at the battle of Long island, 
 329 ; surrender of, at the battle of Trenton, 422 ; 
 humanity of Washington towards, 440 ; their slow 
 march to Bennington, 518, 521, 522 ; forbidding 
 aspect of, to the Philadelphians, 580. 
 
 High hills of the Santee, Greene s encampment on, 
 873 , Greene resumes his position on, 891. 
 
 Highlands of the Hudson, militia ordered up to, 372 ; 
 measures taken for the protection of, 673 ; position 
 of Washington s army in, 701. 
 
 Hillsborough, condition of Gates army at, 801 ; 
 attempt of Cornwallis to raise recruits in, 833 ; 
 abandoned by Cornwallis, 836. 
 
 Ilinman, Capt., services of, at sea, in the Alfred, 592. 
 
 Hobkirk s hill, battle at, 856 ; losses at, 860. 
 
 Holland, independence of the United States acknow 
 ledged by, after the surrender of Burgoyne, 577. 
 
 Hood, Sir S., arrives with a fleet at New York, 904. 
 
 Hopkins, Commodore, cruise of, 268 ; censure of. 270. 
 
 Horseneck, salt-works destroyed by Tryon at, 696. 
 
 Howard, Col., charge of, at the battle of the Cowpens, 
 817 ; silver medal presented to, 818. 
 
 Howe, Admiral Lord K., arrives in New York bay 
 biographical notice of proclamation by his early 
 intimacy with Franklin, 309 ; intends to cut off the 
 retreat from Long island, 332 ; committee of Con 
 gress appointed to meet, at Staten island reply of 
 Franklin to a letter of, 342 ; reception by, of the 
 committee from Congress, 344, 345 ; conversation 
 of the committee with, 345 ; success of the proclam 
 ation issued by, 404 ; residence of, in Philadelphia, 
 605 ; prepares to receive D Estaing at Sandy Hook, 
 659 ; arrives off Rhode island, in search of D Estaing, 
 661 ; his fleet dispersed by a storm, 662 ; return of 
 his fleet to New York, to refit, 663. 
 
 Howe, Col. and Gen. Sir W., in Wolfe s expedition 
 against Quebec, 109 ; arrival at Boston, in 1775 160 ; 
 attack on Breed s hill intrusted to biographical 
 notice of character of, 167 ; address to his soldiers 
 at Breed s hill, 171 ; artillery of, at Breed s hill, 172 ; 
 his courage at Breed s hill, 174 ; wounded at Breed s 
 hill, 176 ; assumes chief command in Boston, 215 ; 
 fortifications strengthened by harshness towards 
 the patriots in Boston, 216 ; Boston spared by, 248 ; 
 impatience of, to get away from Boston, 250 ; proc 
 lamations issued by, 251 ; uncertainty of the move 
 ments of, 272 ; arrives in the bay of New York, 301 ; 
 awaits the arrival of Admiral Howe, 302 ; assistance 
 from tories expected by. 306 ; superiority of the 
 forces of, 315 ; plan of attack on Long island, 324 ; 
 
 his movements after the battle of Long island, 329 ; 
 unwilling to believe that the Americans had left 
 the island, 336 ; inactivity within his lines rein 
 forcements from England desired by, 360 ; moves 
 towards Throgg s Point and New llochelle, 372 ; 
 alarmed at the defeat of the Hessians at Trenton, 
 427 ; his movements in the spring of 1777, 453 ; his 
 plan for the campaign of 1777, 461 ; his designs un 
 known to Washington, 462 ; his movements near 
 Brunswick, 478, 479 ; real object of the movements 
 of, 478 ; retreats from Brunswick to Amboy and 
 Staten island, 480 ; perplexing movements of, 502 ; 
 his arrival in the Chesapeake, 529 ; lands on the 
 banks of the Elk river, 530 ; before the battle of 
 the Brandywine, 531 ; encampment of, at German- 
 town, 580 ; indolence of, in Philadelphia, 606 ; com 
 mand of the army resigned by, 607 ; the Mischianza 
 got up in honor of, 607-612 ; careful of the lives 
 and comfort of his men; 629. 
 
 Howe, Earl Edward, death of, at Ticonderoga, 104. 
 
 Howe, Gen. Robert, expedition of, against tories in 
 Florida, 686 ; defeat of, near Savannah tried by a 
 court-martial and acquitted, 687 ; superseded by 
 Gen. Lincoln, 689 ; mutiny at Pompton suppressed 
 by, 824. 
 
 Hudson river, measures taken by the Clintons for the 
 defense of, 308 ; British vessels-of-war sail up, 371 ; 
 Washington s efforts to obstruct, 372 ; forts on, 
 feebly garrisoned at the time of Sir H. Clinton s 
 advance, 548. 
 
 Huger, Gen., surprised at Mark s Corner, 725; junction 
 of, with Greene and Morgan, at Guilford court 
 house, 831 ; at Hobkirk s hill, 856. 
 
 Huger, Maj.B., and twelve men, killed by mistake, 692. 
 
 Huinber river, vessels destroyed in, by Paul Jones, 704. 
 
 I. 
 
 INDIANS, in the camp of Braddock, 65 ; cruelty of, to 
 English prisoners, 83 ; visitors at the camp at 
 Cambridge, 220; humanity of Burgoyne s directions 
 to, 486 ; Burgoyne unable to restrain, 510. 
 
 Isis and Caesar, French and English ships, battle 
 between, in 1778, 662. 
 
 Isle aux Noix, Montgomery and Schuyler at, 197. 
 
 J. 
 
 JACKSON, Col. M. , attempt on Montressor s island, un 
 dertaken by, 356. 
 
 Jameson, Col., his disposition of Major Andre and his 
 papers unwilling to believe Arnold guilty of 
 treason, 774. 
 
 James river, ravages of Arnold on, 820 ; Lafayette 
 and Wayne deceived by Cornwallis at, 850. 
 
 Jasper, Sergeant, courage displayed by, at Fort Sulli 
 van, 295 ; mortally wounded at the siege of Savan 
 nah, 717. 
 
 Jefferson, Thomas, efforts of, to save Richmond from 
 
938 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 [PARTS 
 
 the British under Arnold narrow escape of, from 
 Arnold. 820 : reward offered by, for the capture of 
 Arnold, 821 ; escape from Tarleton s dragoons, 848. 
 
 John s island, Sir H. Clinton lands his troops on Pre 
 vost sends reinforcements to, 722 ; attempt to dis 
 lodge the British from, 894. 
 
 Johnson, Col., attacked by Wayne at Stony Point, 099. 
 
 Johnson, Col., William, biographical notice of, 87 ; 
 Baron Dieskau defeated by, at Lake George, 89. 
 
 Johnson, Sir John, operations of General Schuyler to 
 counteract the plans of, 236 ; Highlanders of, dis 
 armed by Schuyler, 237 ; trick played upon, and St. 
 Leger, by Indians, 528. 
 
 Johnstone, Gov. , his language relative to the battle 
 of Bunker s hill, 178 ; British commissioner, 629. 
 
 Jones, John Paul, biographical notice of, 6GG ; squad 
 ron placed under the command of, by the French 
 government, 702 ; cruise of, before meeting with 
 the Serapis and Countess of Scarborough, 702-704 ; 
 account of his capture of the Serapis, 705-710 ; 
 language ascribed to, on receiving the sword of 
 Capt. Pearson (note), 710. 
 
 Jonquiere, failure of, to recapture Louisburg, 31 ; fleet 
 of, defeated and captured off Cape Finisterre, 32. 
 
 Jumonville, death of, 38 ; claimed to have been assas 
 sinated, 38, 44, 4G ; a spy as well as an embassador, 
 39 ; remains of, buried by Do Villiers, 45. 
 
 K. 
 
 KIVGSBRIDGE, intrenchmcnts thrown up at, by Mifflin, 
 297 ; headquarters of Washington at, 341 ; secret 
 expedition against, proposed by Washington, 477. 
 
 King s mountain, account of the battle of, 795-801 ; 
 monument erected at the scene of the battle of, 801 ; 
 plans of Cornwaliis changed by the battle of, 802. 
 
 Kirkwood, Capt., at the battle of Eutaw Springs, 884. 
 
 Kittanning, destroyed by a force under Armstrong, 96. 
 
 Knowlton, Capt. , battery erected by, at Breed s hill, 
 170 ; mortally wounded at the battle of Harlem, 354. 
 
 Knox, Col. and Gen., arrival of, with artillery, at 
 Cambridge, 243 ; celebrates the anniversary of the 
 French alliance, 683 ; at the siege of Yorktown, 911. 
 
 Knox, Lieut., forlorn hope led by, at Stony Point. 700. 
 
 Knyphausen, Gen., reinforces Sir W. Howe with 
 Hessians, 375 ; sent by Howe to take possession of 
 Kingsbridge, 384 ; at the investment of Fort Wash 
 ington, 387 ; at the battle of the Brandywine, 532, 
 534 : incursion into New Jersey ordered by, 720 ; 
 New York left to the care of, by Sir H. Clinton, 721 ; 
 incursion of, into New Jersey, 747 ; movements of, 
 in New Jersey, 748-750 ; reinforced by Clinton, 749. 
 
 Kosciusko, Thaddeus, impression produced upon 
 Washington by, 471 ; biographical notice of com 
 mended by Franklin to Washington, 472 ; fortifi 
 cation of Mount Independence intrusted to, 486 ; 
 works at West Point put under the supervision of, 
 701 ; Greene s engineer at the siege of Ninety Six, 
 
 865 ; in command of light-troops near Charleston 
 subsequent career of, (note), 894. 
 
 L. 
 
 LAFAYETTE, Marquis de, first meeting of Washing 
 ton with biographical notice of, 504 ; arrives at 
 Charleston his description of Charleston, 506 ; 
 appointed major-general his anxiety for com 
 mand, 507 ; his appearance, 508 ; wounded at the 
 battle of the Brandywine, 534; in charge of the Mora 
 vians impatience of, for action narrow escape of, 
 from British dragoons, 594 ; skirmish of, with 
 Hessians commended by Washington appointed 
 to the command of Stephen s division, 595 ; attempt 
 to make an instrument of, in an expedition against 
 Canada, 618 ; returns to Washington, at Valley 
 Forge, 619 ; retreats from Barren Hill, 624 ; dis 
 satisfied with Lee s extreme caution, 637 ; with 
 Washington, on the night after the battle of Mou- 
 mouth. 630 ; in the expedition against Rhode island, 
 660 ; scheme of, to invade Canada, 679 ; returns to 
 France, G80 ; his reception in France appointed to 
 the command of the dragoons of the king s guard, 
 681 ; returns to America in 1780, 751 ; his reception 
 by Congress, 752 ; equips his corps at his own 
 expense, 755 ; Cornwaliis unable to force him to 
 action, 847 ; junction of, with Wayne and Steuben, 
 849 ; retires up James river to Green springs, 850; 
 his plans to prevent the escape of Cornwaliis by 
 land, 896 ; refuses to attack Cornwaliis before the 
 arrival of Washington and Rochambeau, 907. 
 
 Lake Champlain, movements of Arnold on, 193 ; 
 British fleet on naval engagement on, 367. 
 
 Lake George, encampment of Col. William Johnson 
 on the banks of, described by Bancroft named by 
 Col. Johnson, 88. 
 
 Lamb, Capt., ice battery of, destroyed at Quebec, 210 ; 
 part of his jaw-bone shot away at Quebec, 212 ; 
 wounded during Tryon s retreat from Danbury, 
 468 ; at the siege of Yorktown. 911. 
 
 Laurens, Col. John, envoy to France, 902, 903 ; Major 
 Campbell made prisoner by, at Yorktown, 914; 
 death of succeeded by Kosciusko, 894. 
 
 Laurens, Henry, exchanged for General Burgoyne, 925. 
 
 Lauzun, accompanies Itochambeati to America, 753. 
 
 Learned, Col. and Gen,, Washington and Howe agree 
 to spare Boston, through the agency of, 248 ; ap 
 pointed brigadier-general, 452 ; with Gates at Still- 
 water, 537. 
 
 Lechmere s Point, attack upon British soldiers at, 223 ; 
 fortifications erected on, by Washington, 226. 
 
 Ledyard, Col., killed by Major Bromfield, at Fort 
 Griswold, after its surrender, 906. 
 
 Lee, Gen. Charles, at Prospect hill , 189; biograph 
 ical notice of called "Boiling Water" by tho 
 Mohawks under Burgoyne in Portugal made a 
 brigadier general personal appearance of, 229 ; 
 
I AND IT.] 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 939 
 
 impiety of, 230 ; operations of, against the New York 
 tories, 235, 23G; ordered to take command of the army 
 in Canada sent to the South Washington s opin 
 ion of the capacity of, 258 ; letter of, to Washington, 
 259 ; at the defense of Charleston Fort Sullivan 
 strengthened by, 290 ; remarkable general orders of, 
 290, 291 ; Charleston pronounced defenseless by, 296 ; 
 return of, from the South, 372 ; commands a divis 
 ion at Kingsbridge reputation of, much increased 
 by his success in the South letter of, respecting 
 the probable movement of Howe, 373 ; recommends 
 a change of position of the army opposed to hold 
 ing Fort Washington, 374 ; anecdote of, at White 
 Plains high opinion held by Washington of the 
 military talents of, 377 ; in command at Newcastle, 
 
 385 ; efforts of, to induce his militiamen to remain, 
 
 386 ; mortification of, at the loss of Fort Washing 
 ton, 392 ; urged by Washington to come to his aid 
 in New Jersey, 395 ; reasons given by, for remain 
 ing at Newcastle, 396 ; letters written to, by Gen. 
 Reed and others, 397 ; motives of, in disobeying the 
 orders of Washington letter of, to Reed, read by 
 Washington, 399 ; letter of, from Peekskill, ad 
 dressed to Washington efforts of, to get two of 
 Heath s regiments, 401 ; Hudson river crossed by, 
 402 ; his purpose of acting independently, 403 ; his 
 continued neglect of the summons of Washington 
 Col. Hampton sent to, by Washington, for informa 
 tion impudence of the reply of success of, in 
 recruiting in New Jersey, 406 ; unwillingness of, to 
 leave Chatham regiments intercepted by, 407 ; ac 
 count of the capture of, 410 ; designs of, at the 
 time of his capture letter of, to Gates capture of, 
 supposed to have been made by collusion, 412 ; cap 
 ture of, calmly spoken of by Washington, 413 ; 
 a prisoner in New York, 443 ; requests that dele 
 gates be sent to him from Congress, to receive a 
 communication -non-compliance of Congress with 
 his reqiiest Washington s sympathy for, 449 ; 
 treatment of, while a prisoner exchanged for the 
 British general Prescott, 618 ; opinions of, unfav 
 orable to a general attack on Sir H Clinton, 632 ; 
 resigns his command to Lafayette anxiety of, to 
 resume his command, 633 ; ordered to form a junc 
 tion with Lafayette at Englishtown, 634 ; ordered 
 to attack Clinton s rear contradictory intelligence 
 brought to, respecting Clinton s movements, 635 ; 
 line formed by, on the plains of Monmouth mes 
 sage sent by, to Washington, 636 ; confusion in the 
 orders of movement of Washington in support of 
 intelligence of the retreat of, given to Washing 
 ton, 637 ; a traitor, according to the belief of many 
 Washington warned against, on the eve of the 
 battle of Monmouth language of Washington to, 
 638 ; subsequent conduct of. on the field of Mon 
 mouth, 039 ; court-martial assembled at Brunswick 
 to try, 642 ; letters written by to Washington, 642, 
 
 I-d 
 
 643 ; skilful defense made by, 643 ; sentenced by 
 the court-martial duel fought by, with Col. 
 Laurens hostility of, to W. H. Drayton, of South 
 Carolina, 644 ; malevolence of, towards Washing 
 ton, 644, 645 ; summarily dismissed from the army 
 his eccentric mode of life in Virginia death of, 
 645 ; will left by strange conduct of, at Valley 
 Forge, 646 ; conduct of, at Monmouth, justified by 
 some treason of, proved, (note) Washington s 
 conduct towards, not influenced by personal feel 
 ings, 647 ; ranked with the traitors Church and 
 Arnold, 648. 
 
 Lee, Capt. and Gen., services of, as a cavalry officer 
 biographical notice of, 530 ; skirmish of, at Derby, 
 622 ; his surprise of Paul us Hook, 711 ; medal 
 awarded to, 712 ; bridge at Springfield defended by, 
 750 ; deception practiced by, upon Col. Pyle, 834 ; 
 at the siege of Ninety-Six, 866 ; attempts to set fire to 
 the fort at, 867 ; prisoners taken by, from Rawdon s 
 cavalry, 872 ; at the battle of Eutaw Springs, 886. 
 
 Leitch, Major, death of, at the battle of Harlem, 354. 
 
 Leith, descent upon, proposed by Paul Jones, 704. 
 
 Leslie, Capt. , defeated near Norfolk, by Virginia rifle 
 men, 240 ; death of, at the battle of Princeton, 436. 
 
 Leslie, Gen., arrives at Charleston, with reinforce 
 ments for Cornwallis, 814 ; British under, confined 
 to the neighborhood of Charleston, 894 ; prepares 
 to evacuate Charleston, 895. 
 
 Lexington, battle of minute men fired upon at, 143 ; 
 killed and wounded at the battle of, 149 ; effect in 
 England of the news of the battle of, 157 ; relief 
 from England for the sufferers by the battle of, 217. 
 
 Lincoln, Gen. Ben., appointed major-general, 452; 
 driven out of Boundbrook by Cornwallis, 464 ; joins 
 Gates with New Hampshire militia, 546 ; Gen. R. 
 Howe superseded by, in the Soutli biographical 
 notice of, 689; loss sustained by, at Brier creek, 
 690 ; attack of, on John s island, 694 ; his siege of 
 Savannah, 7L4; his defense of Charleston, against 
 Sir H. Clinton, 723 ; attacked by the British on 
 Harlem river expedition of, against Delancey s 
 corps, at Morrisania, 898 ; opens the first parallel 
 at the siege of Yorktown, 912 ; appointed to con 
 duct the surrender of Yorktown, 919. 
 
 Little Egg Harbor, expedition against, by Capt. 
 Ferguson shipping and buildings burned at, 675. 
 
 Little Meadows, arrival of Braddock at, 70. 
 
 Livingston, Col., with Gates at Stillwater, 537. 
 
 Livingston, Gov., letter of Washington to, anticlpA 
 ting an attack by Howe on Fort Washington, 383 ; 
 assistance requested from, by Washington, 394, 
 404 ; improved organization of the New Jersey 
 militia suggested to, by Washington, 451. 
 
 Long island, intrcnchments thrown up on, 297 ; Gen. 
 Greene in command of the American troops on, 319; 
 Greene s account of the tories in, 320 ; landing on, 
 of the troops of Gen. Howe language of Washing- 
 
940 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 [PARTS 
 
 ton to the troops sent to, 322 ; Howe s plan of at 
 tack on, 324 ; battle of, 325 ; American officers out- 
 generalled at tlie battle of, 327 ; comparative losses 
 at, 329; arrival at, of the battallions of Shee, Magaw, 
 and Glover, 330 ; retreat of the American army 
 from, 333 ; Howe s ignorance of the American re 
 treat from, 335 ; American army demoralized by the 
 defeat in, 338 ; abundance of tories in, 360. 
 
 Loudoun, earl of, sent to America as general -in-chief, 
 93 ; arrives at Albany, 94 ; expedition of, against 
 Louisburg, 98 ; superseded by Gen Amherst, 100. 
 
 Louisburg, fortifications of, 6 ; plan for the capture 
 of, 7 ; arrival of the fleet at, 16 ; coup do main 
 upon, abandoned, 18 ; sufferings at the siege of 
 summoned to surrender, 19 ; plans for a general 
 attack on, 22, 26 ; information given by a deserter 
 from, 24 ; general attack upon, 27 ; surrender of, 
 to Pepperell -ammunition and stores found in, 28 ; 
 deception practised on French ships at effect in 
 London of the news of the capture of, 29 ; influence 
 of the capture of, 30 ; expedition for the recapture 
 of failure of the expedition against, 31 ; ceded to 
 France by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, 32 ; Am- 
 herst s expedition against, 100, 102 ; unconditional 
 surrender of, 103. 
 
 Lovell, Gen., in command of Massachusetts militia 
 men, sent against McLean, at Penobscot bay, 713. 
 
 Luzerne, M. de la, refuses to loan money to Arnold, 
 760 ; interview of Washington with, at Fishkill, 776. 
 
 , Jane, story of the murder of, 510 ; attempt 
 
 of Burgoyne to punish the murderer of, 511 ; Bur- 
 
 goyne charged with procuring the murder of, 525. 
 Macdonald, Capt. , at the siege of Louisburg, 25. 
 Macdonald, Donald, at the heights of Abraham, 127. 
 M Donald, Donald, royal standard unfurled by, in 
 
 North Carolina, in 1776, 241 ; defeat of, at Moore s- 
 
 crcek bridge, 242. 
 M Dougall, Gen., succeeds Heath in command at 
 
 Peekskill, 462 ; ruse practised upon, by Gen. Howe, 
 
 463 ; substituted for Putnam in the command of 
 
 West Point, 696. 
 
 M Leod, Col., death of, at Moore s creek bridge, 242. 
 Macpherson, Allan, escapes Indian torture, 106. 
 Magaw, Col. , in command at Fort Washington, 385 ; 
 
 his reply to Howe s summons to surrender, 388 ; 
 
 compelled to surrender Fort Washington, 392. 
 Mahan, Capt. , British position at Monk s Corner taken 
 
 by, 891. 
 Maitland, Col., at the siege of Savannah, 715 ; death 
 
 of, a few days after the raising of the siege, 718. 
 Malmedy, M., Washington annoyed by the complaints 
 
 of, 470 ; at the battle of Eutaw Springs, 884. 
 Manchester, Va. , stores and tobacco destroyed at, 845. 
 Manly, Capt., commander of one of the schooners 
 
 fitted out by Washington, 220 ; British brig Nancy 
 
 taken by, 223 ; continued successes of, 224. 
 
 Manning, Lieut., Simms s account of his capture of 
 Major Barry at Eutaw Springs, 890. 
 
 Marion, Gen. Francis, biographical notice of, 732 ; 
 miserable equipments of his men, 738 ; exploits of, 
 in South Carolina, 794; title of "Swamp Fox" 
 given to privations endured by men under, 812 ; 
 failure of his attack on the British at Georgetown, 
 on Winyaw bay anecdote of a British officer in 
 vited to dine with camp formed by, on Snow s 
 island, 813 ; operations of, in South Carolina attack 
 upon, by Cols. Watson and Doyle, 852 ; his brigade 
 dissatisfied with Sumter s partiality, 878 ; on the 
 Santee, 879 ; at the battle of Eutaw Springs, 884. 
 
 Marjoribanks, Major, at Eutaw Springs, 885. 
 
 Martha s Vineyard, the inhabitants of, levied on, 065. 
 
 Martin, Gov. of North Carolina, proceedings of, 241. 
 
 Maryland, backwardness of, in affording aid to Brad- 
 dock, 59 ; brigades from, at the battle of Camden, 
 742 ; troops from, at Guilford courthouse, 840. 
 
 Massachusetts, aid from, to the expedition against 
 Louisburg, 8 ; first in resistance to British tyranny, 
 137 ; expedition from, to Penobscot bay, 712. 
 
 Mathew, Gen., at the investment of Fort Wasa- 
 ington, 387 ; ravages of, in Virginia, in 1779, 695. 
 
 Mawhood, Col., collision of, with Gen. Hugh Mercer, 433. 
 
 Maxwell, Gen., at the battle of the Brandywine, 532 ; 
 mutiny on the part of the officers of, prevented, 082. 
 
 Megantic, Lake, arrival of Arnold at, 205. 
 
 Meigs, Col. , stores destroyed by, at Sag Harbor, 475. 
 
 Mercer, Gen. Hugh, at Amboy, on the approach of 
 Sir W. Howe, 302 ; ordered to occupy Forts Con 
 stitution and Lee, 339 ; collision of, with Col. Maw- 
 hood, 433 ; his riflemen overcome by the British, 
 434 ; left for dead on the field of battle, 435, 436 
 biographical notice of, 436. 
 
 Mercier, the constructor of Fort Duquesne, 40. 
 
 Messerve, Col., makes cannon -si edges at Louisburg, 18. 
 
 Middlebrook, American camp shifted to, from Morris- 
 town, 478 ; strength of the American position at, 479. 
 
 Mifflin, Gen. T., biographical notice of, 297 ; at Kings- 
 bridge and Fort Washington, 302 ; takes reinforce 
 ments to Brooklyn, 331 ; at the retreat from Long 
 island, 332 ; retreats from the lines, through mis 
 take, 334 ; sent to make known to Congress the 
 straits of the American army, 394 ; appointed 
 major-general, 452. 
 
 Miles, Col., on the eve of the battle of Long island, 324. 
 
 Militia, opinions as to the inefficiency of, 338, 339 ; 
 bad conduct of, at W T hite Plains, 378 ; order of 
 Washington to encourage, 879 ; their dread of cav 
 alry, 380; unreliability of, 428; Virginia, throw down 
 their loaded arms at the battle of Camden, 742. 
 
 Mininsink settlement, ravaged by Brant, in 1779, 679. 
 
 MiscManza, got up in honor of Sir W. Howe, in Phila 
 delphia, 607-612; language of Paine respecting, 612. 
 
 Mohawks, expedition against,under Gen. Sullivan, 677. 
 
I AND II. J 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 941 
 
 Monakatuca, made prisoner by French and Indians, 
 71 ; his son killed by mistake, by Braddock s men, 74, 
 
 Monckton, Gen. Kobert, in Wolfe s expedition against 
 Quebec, 109 ; Point Levi, taken by, 114 ; death of, 
 at the battle of Monmouth, 640. 
 
 Moncrieff, (engineer) at the defense of Savannah, 716. 
 
 Money, continental, great depreciation of, 604. 
 
 Monk s Corner, Gen. Huger and Col. Washington 
 surprised at, by Tarleton, 725 ; escape of the British 
 under Col. Coates, from Sumter at, 875. 
 
 Monmouth, position of the British before the battle 
 of, 634 ; battle of, 635-640 ; fatal effects of the 
 excessive heat at the battle of killed and wounded 
 at, 641. 
 
 Monongahela, fords of, passed by Braddock, 75 ; de 
 feat of Braddock at the, 76 ; losses at the, 83. 
 
 Monroe, Col. James, at the battle of Trenton, 421. 
 
 Montcalm, Marquis de, biographical notice of, 94 ; 
 operations of, against Oswego, 95 ; expedition of, 
 against Fort William Henry, 99 ; vexation of, at 
 the loss of Point Levi, 115 ; thwarted by Vaudreuil, 
 124 ; letter of, to M. de Mole, 125 ; unwilling to 
 believe the English had attained the plains of 
 Abraham, 127 ; disposition of his forces when at 
 tacking Wolfe, 128 ; his conduct on the field of 
 battle, 129, 130 ; mortal wound received by, 130 ; 
 language of, on the approach of death, 131. 
 
 Montgomery, Gen. Richard ; in command of Ticonde- 
 roga biographical notice of, 197 ; operations of, 
 against St. Johns on the Sorel, 198 ; entrance of, 
 into Montreal surrender of St. Johns to, 201 ; want 
 of discipline among the troops of j unction of, with 
 Arnold, at Point aux Trembles, 208 ; operations of, 
 before Quebec, 209 ; resolves to attack Quebec, 210 ; 
 death of, 211 ; remains of, honorably buried, 213. 
 
 Montgomery, Major, shot dead in the storming of 
 Fort Griswold, New London, 906. 
 
 Montgomery and Congress, American frigates, burned 
 on the Hudson, 553. 
 
 Montmorenci, attempt of Wolfe to cross the river 
 near the falls of, 116, 
 
 Montreal, invested by Gen. Amherst, in 1760, 134 ; 
 entrance of Montgomery into, in 1775, 201. 
 
 Montressor s island, attack upon the British on, 
 planned by Gen. Heath, 356 ; unfortunate result of 
 the attempt upon, 358. 
 
 Moore, Gen., operations of, in North Carolina, 241. 
 
 Moore s-creek bridge, Col. McDonald defeated at, 242. 
 
 Morepang, death of, in defense of Louisburg, 17. 
 
 Morgan, Charley, a spy in the camp of Cornwallis, 
 846 ; returns with deserters to Lafayette s camp, 847. 
 
 Morgan, Gen. Daniel, arrival of, in the camp of Brad- 
 dock anecdote respecting. 67 ; accompanies Arnold 
 against Quebec, 198 ; batteries taken by, at Quebec 
 made prisoner with his command, 212 ; with 
 Gates at Stillwater, 537 ; defeat of his corps at 
 Beniis heights, 540 ; Gen. Fraser shot by the rifle 
 
 men of, 557 ; retires towards Broad river Tarleton 
 sent against, 814 ; ground chosen by, at the Cow- 
 pens, 815 ; addresses his troops, 816 ; gold medal 
 presented to, 818 ; pursuit of, after the battle of the 
 Cowpens, 819 ; encumbered with prisoners and bag 
 gage, 826 ; saved by the swelling of the Catawba, 
 827 ; retires from the army, 832, 
 
 Morris, Capt. , killed at the siege of Charleston, 294. 
 
 Morris, Roger, house of, occupied by Washington, 350 
 
 Morris, Major, at the battle of Bemis heights, 540. 
 
 Morris, Robert, money raised by, for the army 
 treasury, 427 ; patriotic financial operations of, 825; 
 money borrowed of Rochambeau by, 900. 
 
 Morristown, winter-quarters of Washington at, 438 ; 
 the troops at, inoculated, 457 ; description of the 
 camp at, 473 ; desertions from the camp at social 
 enjoyment in the camp at sources of anxiety for 
 Washington at, 474 ; camp shifted from, to Middle- 
 brook, 478 ; camp at, moved to Pompton Plains, 
 497 ; sufferings of the army in winter-quarters at, 
 719 ; inefficiency of the army at, 720 ; mutiny of 
 regiments at sufferings of the army at, 821. 
 
 Motte, Mrs., patriotism of, in South Carolina, 862. 
 
 Moultrie, Col. William, fort erected by, on Sullivan s 
 island, 289 ; honors to, for his defense of Fort 
 Sullivan, 295, 296 ; British driven out of Port Royal 
 by, 689 ; departure of the British from Charleston, 
 in 1782, witnessed by, 895. 
 
 Mount Bigelow, ascent of, by Major Bigelow, 203. 
 
 Mount Defiance, commanding Ticonderoga, fortifica 
 tion of, urged by John Trumbull, 488. 
 
 Mount Hope, taken possession of, by the British, 490. 
 
 Mount Independence, fortified under Kosciusko, 486. 
 
 Mount Vernon, hospitalities to the poor at, 225 ; levy 
 on the estate of, made by a British cruiser on the 
 Potomac, 745 ; Washington visits, on his way 
 towards Yorktown, 903. 
 
 Mowatt, Lieut., bombards and burns Falmouth, 215. 
 
 Mugford, account of his capture of the British ship 
 Hope, 280 ; death of, defending his ship, 281. 
 
 Muhlenberg, appointed brigadier-general, 452 ; hospi 
 talities of, 683. 
 
 Munro, Col., surrenders Fort William Henry to Mont- 
 calm, 99. 
 
 Murray, Gen., defeat of, near Quebec, by De Levi, 133. 
 
 Murray, Mrs. Robert, Putnam s escape owing to, 352. 
 
 Musgrove s mill, British under Col. Innis defeated 
 at, 745. 
 
 N. 
 
 NANCY, a British ship, captured by Capt. Manly 
 anecdote connected with the capture of, 223. 
 
 Nantasket roads, delay of the British fleet in, after 
 the evacuation of Boston, 255. 
 
 Navy, American, early commanders of, 219 ; vessels 
 and officers of, in 1775, 267 ; early attempts to es 
 tablish, unfortunate, 666 ; summary of the opera 
 tions of, after the exploits of Paul Jones (note), 925. 
 
942 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 [PARTS 
 
 Nelson, Gov., money borrowed by, for the state of 
 Virginia, 911 ; touching display of patriotism made 
 by, 916 ; house of, in Yorktown (note), 917, 
 
 " Neutral Ground," prisoners taken by the British, at 
 Young s house on, 721. 
 
 Newark, retreat of Washington to, after the loss of 
 Fort Washington, 394 ; position of the army at, 395. 
 
 New Bedford, depredations of Sir Charles Grey at, 665. 
 
 New Brunswick, New Jersey, Lord Cornwallis at, 447 
 
 Newcastle, duke of, his ignorance and incapacity, 47. 
 
 Newcastle, Gen. Lee left in command at, 385 ; Lee 
 urged to break up his encampment at, 395. 
 
 New England, interest taken by, in the expedition 
 against Louisburg, 8 ; manners of the officers from, 
 according to Gray don and Gordon, 298 ; account of 
 "a riot," illustrating the manners of officers from, 
 300 ; measures taken by Washington for the pro 
 tection of, 673 ; governors of, urged by Washington 
 to forward troops and supplies, 899 ; disaffection of 
 troops from, at being marched into Virginia, 902. 
 
 Newfoundland, ceded to Great Britain by the treaty 
 of Utrecht, 6. 
 
 New-Hampshire grants and the "Green-Mountain 
 Boys," 152. 
 
 New Hampshire, victory obtained at Bennington by 
 militia of, under Gen. Stark, 522. 
 
 New Haven, ravages of Gov. Tryon in, 697. 
 
 New Jersey, proclamation issued in, by the brothers 
 Howe 404 ; outrages of British and Hessians on the 
 people of, 425 ; command of the British forces in, 
 resumed by Cornwallis, 427 ; sufferings of, from 
 the soldiery of both armies, 446 ; efforts of Wash 
 ington to prevent plunder in, 447 ; movements of 
 Sir W. Howe in, in 1777, 453 ; inferiority of Amer 
 ican forces in, 453, 457 ; Americans left in posses 
 sion of, by the retreat of Howe to Staten island, 480; 
 abandoned by Clinton and Knyphausen, 750; mutiny 
 of the troops from, in 1781, 824. 
 
 New London, destruction of, proposed by Sir H. Clin 
 ton, 698 ; expedition against, postponed by Clinton, 
 701 ; expedition against, intrusted to Arnold, 905 ; 
 reduced to ashes by Arnold, 907. 
 
 Newport, Rochambeau and De Ternay at, in 1780, 
 752 ; project of Sir H. Clinton for an attack upon 
 the French at, 754 ; French fleet blockaded in, by 
 Admiral Arbutlmot, 755. 
 
 New York, alarm occasioned in, by the simultaneous 
 arrival of Clinton and Lee, 235 ; condition of the 
 army in, 265 ; the army improving the defenses of, 
 297 ; jealousies existing among the troops at, 300 ; 
 action of the secret committee of the state conven 
 tion of, 306 ; statement of the American force in, at 
 the time of the Howes arrival at Staten island, 317; 
 commiseration felt by Washington for the helpless 
 in Gen. Howe delays the attack on, 321 ; excite 
 ment of the inhabitants of, on the landing of Howe 
 on Long island Washington assures the people of. 
 
 that the city should not be burned, 323 ; evacuation 
 of, contemplated Congress interrogated as to the 
 destruction of, 337 ; urgency of Gen. Greene for the 
 evacuation of Washington directed by Congress to 
 spare in case of evacuation, 340 ; Washington in 
 favor of the evacuation of, 341, 347 ; British cannon 
 ade upon the American works at, 348 ; efforts of 
 Washington to have the sick and stores removed 
 from, 349 ; taken possession of, by the British, 352; 
 great fire in, 355 ; fire in. checked by the exertions 
 of Howe s sailors, 356 ; abundance of tories in, 300; 
 militia of, in a state of mutiny, 383 ; plan of Wash 
 ington for an attack upon, 754 ; joint French and 
 American attack upon, proposed by Washington 
 and Rochambeau, 897 ; southern states relieved by 
 Washington s threatened attack on, 899 ; plan for 
 the attack upon, abandoned by Washington, 900. 
 
 Niagara, surrendered to the British, 107. 
 
 Nielson, Col., Major Stockton and fifty nine New 
 Jersey royalists taken prisoners by, 454. 
 
 Ninety- Six, siege laid to, by Gen. Greene garrisoned 
 by American royalists, 864 ; description of t the 
 fortifications of, 865 ; attempt to take the fortress 
 of, by storm, 868 ; siege of, raised by Greene, on 
 the approach of Rawdon, 870 ; abandonment of, 
 by Rawdon, 871 ; dismal civil war in the neighbor 
 hood of, 879. 
 
 Nixon, Gen., with Gates at Stillwater, 537. 
 
 Nook s hill, attempt of Washington to get possession 
 of, at the siege of Boston, 249 ; second and success 
 ful attempt to take possession of effect of the 
 American occupation of, upon Gen. Howe s move 
 ments, 251. 
 
 Norfolk, defeat of Dunmore at, and burning of, 240. 
 
 North Carolina, loyalists in, under Col Bryan, make 
 their escape to Cheraw hill, 731 ; flight of the mili 
 tia of, at the battle of Guilford courthouse, 839. 
 
 North, Lord, "conciliatory bills" of, how received in 
 the United States, 628 ; how affected by the sur 
 render at Yorktown seals of office resigned by, 936. 
 
 North river, plans for obstructing, 286; Highland passes 
 on, intrusted to M Dougall and Geo. Clinton, 476. 
 
 Norwalk, laid in ashes by the British, 698. 
 
 Nova Scotia, ceded to Great Britain by the treaty of 
 Utrecht, 6; expulsion of Acadians from, in 1755, 90. 
 
 OCHTERLONY, Capt. .killed at the siege of Quebec, 119. 
 
 O Hara, Gen., appointed by Cornwallis to give up his 
 sword to Washington, 920. 
 
 Ohio territory, claims of England and France to, 32. 
 
 Orangeburg, surrender of, to Gen. Sumter, 863. 
 
 Orme, Capt. R., invites Washington, by letter, to join 
 Braddock, 57 ; wounded at Braddock s defeat, 79. 
 
 Oswego, expedition of the French against, in 1756, 91; 
 taken by the French under Montcalm, 95 ; destruc 
 tion of the fort at, 90. 
 
I AND II.] 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 943 
 
 P. 
 
 PATNE, Thomas, influence upon the popular mind, of 
 his pamphlet "Common Sense" biographical notice 
 of, 304. 
 
 Palfrey, Col., sent on board Admiral Howe s ship, to 
 negotiate respecting prisoners, 312. 
 
 Palmer, Edmund, hanged as a spy by Putnam, 502. 
 
 Parker, Admiral Sir Peter, arrival of, at Cape Fear, 
 288 ; attacks Fort Sullivan, 292 ; wounded, 294. 
 
 Parker, Capt., assembles minute-men in Lexington, 
 143. 
 
 Parsons, Gen., at the battle of Long island Lord 
 Stirling sent to the aid of, 325. 
 
 Patterson, Col., sent by Gen. Howe with a flag to 
 Washington 310 ; appointed brigadier-general, 452 ; 
 with Gates at Stillwater, 537. 
 
 Paulding, John, one of the Cow-boys who arrested 
 Major Andre, 773 ; burial-place of, 789. 
 
 Paulus Hook, surprise of, by Major Henry Lee, 711. 
 
 Pearson, Capt., commander of the Serapis in the 
 fight with the Bon Homme Richard, 705 ; obliged 
 to haul down his colors himself made a baronet, 
 (note), 110. 
 
 Peekskill, visit of Washington to, 385 ; concentration 
 of troops at, 460 ; stores destroyed at, by the British, 
 463 ; Putnam retreats from, 553. 
 
 Pellew, in the fight on Lake Champlain, in 1776, 367. 
 
 Pennsylvania, backward in affording aid to Braddock, 
 59 ; influence in, of the success of the brothers 
 Howe, 405 ; intentions of Gen. Howe to confine his 
 operations to, 462 ; the legislature of, interferes 
 with plans of Washington, 601 ; American com 
 missaries repulsed by farmers of, 602, 604 ; mutiny 
 of regiments from, 821. 
 
 Pennytown, outrages in, by British and Hessians, 425. 
 
 Penobscot bay, expedition against Col. M Lean at, 712. 
 
 Pepperell, William, commmander of the expedition 
 against Louisburg, 9 ; biographical notice of, 10 ; 
 great personal influence of, 11 ; superseded by Com 
 modore Warren, 14 ; friendly intercourse of, with 
 Warren, 20 ; letters of, relative to the progress of 
 the siege of Louisburg, 21, 24 ; disheartened by 
 want of success in a night attack, 23 ; reinforcements 
 received by, 25 ; rivalry between, and Warren, 27 ; 
 baronetcy conferred upon, 29. 
 
 Percy, Lord, conversation overheard by, respecting 
 the expedition to Concord, 141 ; penurious character 
 of (note) reinforcements taken by, to Col. Smith, 
 147 ; narrow escape of, at the battle of Lexington, 
 148 ; in command of the force intended to attack 
 Dorchester heights, 246 ; at the battle of Long island, 
 324 ; reinforcements brought by, to Gen. Howe, at 
 White Plains, 382. 
 
 Petersburg, ravages of Phillips and Arnold in, 845. 
 
 Peyton, rescue of, from Indians, at siege of Quebec, 119. 
 
 Phelps, Capt. Noah, Ethan Allen s guide to Ticon- 
 deroga, 154. 
 
 I e 
 
 Philadelphia, people of, unwilling to believe the rumor 
 of Braddock s defeat, 85 ; plans of Washington for 
 the protection of, 405 ; Putnam charged with the 
 fortification of, 406 ; supposed intentions of the 
 British with regard to, 476 ; march of Washington s 
 army through the streets of, 530; shoes and blankets 
 procured from, 579 ; march of troops under Corn- 
 wallis into, 580 ; a council of war decides against 
 attacking Gen. Howe in, 593 ; British army in, well 
 supplied with provisions, 603 ; want of discipline 
 among the British troops in, 604, 605 ; Mischianza 
 got up in, in honor of Sir. W. Howe, 607-612 ; joy 
 ful reception of the British commissioners by the 
 inhabitants of confusion in, on the evacuation by 
 Sir H. Clinton, 629 ; promises made by the tories 
 of, to the commissioners, 630 ; suspicious conduct 
 of Arnold in, while military governor, 757 ; march 
 of American and French armies through, 901. 
 
 Phillipsburg, encampment of Washington at, 898. 
 
 Phillips, Gen., commands Burgoyne s artillery, 485 ; 
 chief command in Virginia assumed by, 844 ; ravages 
 of, in Virginia, 845 ; death of, at Petersburg, 846. 
 
 Pickens, Col., defeats loyalists at Kettle creek, 688 ; 
 biographical notice of, 733 ; sword presented to, 
 for his services at the Cowpens, 818 ; at the battle 
 of Eutaw Springs, 884. 
 
 Pickering, Timothy, adjutant-general, after Reed, 458. 
 
 Pigott, Gen. Sir R., left wing of the British led by, 
 at Breed s hill, 171 ; repulse of, at Breed s hill, 
 172 ; defends Rhode island against Sullivan, Greene, 
 and D Estaing, 660. 
 
 Pitcairn, Major, enters Lexington with British 
 troops, 142 ; fires upon minute-men at Lexington, 
 143 ; his conduct at Lexington disapproved by 
 Gage, 149 ; death of, at Breed s hill, 176. 
 
 Pluckimen, halt of the American army at, 437. 
 
 Point aux Trembles, retreat of De Vaudreuil to, 131. 
 
 Point Levi, taken by Gen. Monckton, 114 ; defenses 
 of, strengthened, 115 ; disastrous night-attack on, 
 by Montcalm, 117. 
 
 Pomeroy, Major, letter of, from before Louisburg, 
 19 ; his gallant conduct at Banker s hill, 177. 
 
 Pompton, Gen. Sullivan stationed at, by Washington, 
 481 ; mutiny of New Jersey troops at, 824. 
 
 Pompton plains, camp of Washington moved to, 497. 
 
 Poor, Gen., with Gates at Stillwater, 537. 
 
 Port Royal, British driven out of, by Col Moultrie, 689. 
 
 Portsmouth, Va. , taken possession of, by Arnold, in 
 1781, 821 ; arrival of Cornwallis at, 850. 
 
 Prescott, Col. William, ordered to fortify Bunker s 
 hill personal appearance of, 162 ; intrenchments 
 thrown up by, on Breed s hill, instead of Bunker s, 
 163 ; observed by Gen. Gage walking on the para 
 pet at Breed s hill, 165 ; narrow escape of, at Breed s 
 hill, 177. 
 
 Prescott, Gen., capture of, at Rhode island treatment 
 as a prisoner, 501 ; exchanged for Gen. Lee, 618. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 [PARTS 
 
 Prevost, Gen., operations of, in Georgia, in 1779, 688 ; 
 Gen. Ashe defeated by, at Brier creek, 690 ; march 
 of, to Charleston, 691 ; rapid retreat of, to John s 
 island, 693 ; his defense of Savannah, 714. 
 
 Princeton, retreat of Washington to, 405 ; march of 
 Washington to, from the Assumpink, 431 ; entrance 
 of Gen. Leslie into battle of, 435 ; retreat of 
 Washington from losses at the battle of, 436. 
 
 Pringle, Capt., British fleet under the command of, on 
 Lake Champlain, 367. 
 
 Prisoners, cruel treatment of, by the British, 441 ; 
 letters of Washington to the Howes, in relation to 
 the treatment of, 443 ; letter of Washington to 
 Congress, in relation to the treatment of, 445. 
 
 Providence, a twelve-gun ship, exploits of, 670. 
 
 Pulaski, Count Casimir, biographical notice of, 508 ; 
 brigadier-general, 509 ; daring of, displayed at 
 Trenton, 623 ; legion of, surprised by Capt. Fergu 
 son, 675 ; aid brought to Charleston by, 691 ; death 
 of, at the siege of Savannah, 717. 
 
 Putnam, Col. Rufus, anecdote of, 266 ; charged with 
 the construction of forts on the North river, 286. 
 
 Putnam, Gen. Israel, with Col. Williams when at 
 tacked by Dieskau, 89 ; joins the patriots after the 
 battle of Lexington, 150 ; at Breed s hill, 168 ; 
 efforts of, to get reinforcements to Breed s hill, 175 ; 
 efforts of, to rally the Americans at Bunker s hill, 
 177 ; Prospect hill fortified by, 181 ; woman con 
 nected with Church s treason arrested by, 218 ; mor 
 tar captured by Capt. Manly christened by, 224 ; in 
 command of the army in New York, 260, 265 ; chevaux- 
 de-frise devised by, to obstruct British ships on the 
 North river, 314, 371 ; plans of Anderson and Bush- 
 nell endorsed by, 318 ; in command on Long island, 
 822, 324 ; visit of Washington to, in Brooklyn, 325 ; 
 favors the evacuation of New York, 341 ; commands 
 the rear-guard, at the evacuation of New York, 349 ; 
 abandons New York, 351 ; attacked by the British on 
 their march to Harlem incident to which his escape 
 was owing, 352 ; charged with the fortification of 
 Philadelphia, 406 ; fails to co-operate with Washing 
 ton at Trenton, 423 ; letter of Washington to, after 
 the battle of Princeton, 437 ; small force under, at 
 Princeton, 450 ; intrusted to place a boom across the 
 Hudson at Fort Montgomery, 477 ; reply sent by, to 
 Sir H. Clinton, on his demanding the liberation of 
 Edmund Palmer, 502 ; in command at Peekskill, 
 549 ; discouraged by the successes of Clinton, 554 ; 
 unwillingness of, to send reinforcements to Wash 
 ington, 590 ; revolt in the division of, at Danby, 683 ; 
 narrow escape of, at Greenwich, 696 ; Lossing s ac 
 count of the escape of (note) subsequent vigorous 
 action of, 697. 
 
 Pyle, Col., deception practiced upon, by Pickcns and 
 Lee, near the Haw river, 834 ; surprise and defeat 
 of left for dying, but survived, 835 ; terror pro 
 duced among the loyalists bv the surnrise of, 836. 
 
 Q. 
 
 QUEBEC, expedition of Wolfe against, in 1759, 109, 
 111 ; fortifications of, 111 ; fire-ships sent against 
 the British fleet at, 113 ; movements of Lieut. 
 Rogers at the siege of, 115 ; failure of Gen. Monck- 
 ton s attack on, at the Montmorenci adventures of 
 Ochterlony and Peyton during the siege of, 118 ; 
 barbarity during the siege of, 122 ; position of the 
 French at. 124 ; surrender of, to the British, in 1759, 
 131 ; expedition of Arnold against, in 1775, 196, 
 201-206 ; summoned to surrender, 206 ; departure 
 of Arnold from, to Point aux Trembles, 207 ; oper 
 ations of Montgomery and Arnold at, 209, 211 ; ice- 
 battery constructed by Montgomery at, 209 ; de 
 struction and abandonment of the ice -battery at, 210 ; 
 united attack upon, by Montgomery and Arnold, 
 211 ; operations of Gen. Wooster at reinforcements 
 received by Carleton in retreat of the American 
 army from, 261. 
 
 Queen s Rangers, prisoners made from, by Lord Stir 
 ling. 376 ; successful foraging expeditions of, 624. 
 
 Quinby bridge, exploits of Sumter, Marion, and Lee 
 at, 875 ; desperate position of American officers at, 
 877 ; killed and wounded at, 878. 
 
 R. 
 
 RAHL, Col. , in the attack on Fort Washington, 390 ; 
 force under, in Trenton, 418 ; twice warned of tho 
 intended attack upon Trenton, 419 ; surprise of, 
 when attacked, 421 ; shot at the head of his men, 
 422 ; Washington visits his death bed, 424. 
 
 Rah way river, bridge across, defended by Col. Angel, 
 against the troops of Sir H. Clinton, 750. 
 
 "Raid of the dog days," in South Carolina, 873. 
 
 Raisin river, battle at Frenchtown, near, 101, 102. 
 
 Raleigh, cruise of, in company with the Alfred, 592 ; 
 command of, given to Capt. Barry, 671 ; chase and 
 capture of, by the Experiment and Unicorn, 671-673. 
 
 Ranger, memorable cruise of Paul Jones in the, in 
 1778, 666 ; action of the, with the Drake, 669. 
 
 Rapelye, Mrs , information sent by. to Lord Howe, of 
 the American retreat from Long island, 335. 
 
 Rathburne, Capt., cruise of, in the Providence, G70. 
 
 Rawdon, Lord, at the storming of Fort Montgomery, 
 550,553 ; at Charleston, with reinforcements for Sir 
 H. Clinton, 726 ; in command of the British at 
 Camden, 731 ; command in South Carolina devolved 
 upon, 802 ; compels Sumter to raise the siege of 
 Fort Granby, 852 ; attempt of Greene to surprise, 
 at Camden, 854 ; Greene surprised by, at Hobkirk s 
 hill, 856 ; force of, at Hobkirk s hill, principally 
 American royalists, 857 ; junction of Col. Watson 
 with, at Camden, 860 ; Camden evacuated and 
 burned by, 861 ; held in check at Charleston by 
 Marion and Sumter, 803 ; Ninety-Six abandoned by, 
 
 871 ; pursuit of, by Greene retreat of, to Granby, 
 
 872 ; junction of Cols. Stewart and Cruger with 
 
I AND II.] 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 945 
 
 strong- ground taken by, near Orangeburg, 873 ; re 
 treats to Charleston, and departs for Europe 
 succeeded by Stewart at Orangeburg, 879. 
 Rawlings, Col., at the defense of Fort Washington, 388. 
 Red-bank, fort at, taken by Cornwallis, 591. 
 Reed, Col. Joseph, correspondence of Washington 
 with, 222; state papers intrusted to, by Washington, 
 323 ; an admirer of Gen. Lee biographical notice 
 of esteem of Washington for nattering letter 
 written by, to Lee. 397 ; letter of Washington to, 
 enclosing the letter of Lee, 400; letter from, to 
 Washington, urging active measures, 416 ; letter of 
 Washington to, informing him of the hour for the 
 attack on Trenton, 417 ; British commissary and 
 foraging party made prisoners by, 428 ; brigadier- 
 general, 452 ; resignation of, as adjutant general, 
 457 ; answer made by, to British offers, 631 ; meas 
 ures taken by, to end the mutiny of the Pennsylva 
 nia troops, 823. 
 
 Reidesel, Baron, in command of Brunswickers, 485. 
 llcidesel, Baroness, with her husband in Burgoyne s 
 army, 542 ; reminiscences of, of the night following 
 the second battle of Bemis heights, 560 ; the 
 British camp on the Fishkill described by, 567 ; her 
 joy at the prospect of surrender, 572; 573 ; conducted 
 to the tent of Gen. Gates by Schuyler, 574 ; taken 
 by Schuyler to his own tent marked kindness of 
 Schuyler s family to, 575. 
 Revolution, battles of the, 137. 
 
 Rhode Island, perfect tent-equipages of, in the conti 
 nental army, 187 ; arrival of ammunition from, in 
 the camp at Cambridge, 192 ; aid demanded by, 
 from Congress, against the exactions of Capt. 
 Wallace, 227 ; Arnold dissuaded by Washington 
 from making an attack upon, 451 ; D Estaing s iieet 
 at expedition against the British on, 660 ; delays 
 in the attack upon, 661 ; want of co-operation in 
 the attack upon, 661-663. 
 
 Richmond, occupied by Arnold, 820 ; buildings burned 
 in, 821 ; designs of Phillips and Arnold against, 845. 
 Riviere aux Boeufs, French fort on, in 1754, 34. 
 Robertson, Gen., arrival of, in New York, with rein 
 forcements for Sir II. Clinton, 548. 
 Robinson, Col. Beverly, headquarters of Arnold at the 
 house of, 756 ; accompanies Major Andre to Dobbs 
 ferry, to meet Arnold, 763 ; correspondence of 
 Arnold with, on board the Vulture, 764. 
 Rochambeau, Count de, news of the coming of, brought 
 by Lafayette, 751 ; instructions of the French minis 
 ter to, in relation to the precedence of American 
 officers, 752 ; biographical notice of lands at New 
 port, 753 ; his reinforcements blockaded in Brest, 
 755 ; conference of Washington with, at Hartford, 
 763 ; interview of Washington with, at Weathers- 
 field, 897 ; money loaned by, to Robert Morris, 900; 
 visits Mount Vernon, 904. 
 Rogers, Major, biographical notice of, 361 ; Dr. Whee- 
 
 lock s account of his interview with, 362 ; arrested 
 at South Amboy the Queen s Rangers recruited by 
 excites the Connecticut people by his threats, 363; 
 Americans anxious to get possession of, 376. 
 
 Rose and Phoenix, British ships of -war, pass the bat 
 teries on the Hudson, 307 ; interrupt communica 
 tions, 312 ; chain forged to prevent their progress, 
 313 ; their conflict with row-galleys, and withdrawal 
 from the river, 317 ; not hindered by Putnam s c7ie- 
 vaux-de frise, 318. 
 
 Roxbury, Winter hill fortified at, 182 ; right of the 
 continental army at, under Gen. Ward, 189. 
 
 Rugely. Col., surrender of, with a wooden cannon, 811. 
 
 Rutherford, Gen., patriot force gathered by, 733. 
 
 Rutledge, Gov. John, patriotic conduct of, 690 ; militia 
 called out by, 723 ; aid for South Carolina promised 
 to, 733 ; with Greene in his camp on the Pedee, 812. 
 
 S. 
 
 SAG HARBOK, stores at, destroyed by Col. Meigs, 475. 
 
 St. Clair, Gen., appointed major general, 452; at 
 Ticonderoga, 487 ; Ticonderoga abandoned by, 492 ; 
 mid-night retreat of, 493 ; pursued by Gen. Fraser 
 and Baron Reidesel, 494 ; retreat of, to Hubbardton 
 Castleton, and Bennington, 495,496; arrival of, at Fort 
 Edward, 498 ; justifies the abandonment of Ticon 
 deroga, 499 ; inquiry into his conduct at Ticonderoga, 
 523 ; suspected of complicity in Arnold s treason, 784. 
 
 St. Clair, Sir John, sent to Virgnia, 54 ; obtains re 
 cruits there, 56 ; threats made by, to the Pennsyl 
 vania commissioners, 58. 
 
 St. John, on the Sorel, capture and abandonment of, 
 by Arnold, 156 ; surrender of, to Montgomery, 201. 
 
 St. Leger, Col., gives up the siege of Fort Schuyler, 
 527 ; trick played upon, by Indians, 528 ; retreats 
 to Ticonderoga, 545. 
 
 Saltonstall, Capt., commands a Massachusetts fleet 
 sent against Col. M Lean at Peuobscot bay, 713. 
 
 Sandy Hook, French fleet under D Estaing at, 659. 
 
 Santee river, encampment of Gen. Greene on the 
 "High hills" of, 873,891. 
 
 Saratoga, Gen. Burgoyne at, 537 ; retreat of Burgoyne 
 to, 563 ; retreat of Burgoyne from, 566 ; British loss 
 at, and consequences of Burgoyne s surrender at, 576. 
 
 Saunders, Admiral, with Wolfe in his expedition 
 against Quebec, 109. 
 
 Savannah, Gen. R. Howe defeated near, 687 ; siege 
 of, 714 ; siege of, raised death of Count Pulaski 
 at the siege of Sergeant Jasper mortally wounded 
 at the siege of, 717 ; losses at the siege of death 
 of Maitland at, 718 ; British evacuation of, 895. 
 
 Scammel, Col., in the retreat from Long island, 334 ; 
 death of, at the siege of Yorkto\vn, 910. 
 
 Schuyler, Gen. Philip, directed to undertake the in 
 vasion of Canada, 195 ; fortifies Ticonderoga, 197 ; 
 operations of, against Sir J. Johnson, 236 ; letter of 
 Washington to, in relation to affairs in Canada, 262 ; 
 
946 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 [PARTS 
 
 dislike of the New England troops towards Gray- 
 don on the manners of, 263 ; letter of Washington 
 to, in relation to imputations on his character 
 biographical notice of, 264 ; resists the claims of 
 Gen. Gates to the command of the Northern army, 
 285 ; irascibility of insinuations of Col. Trumbull 
 against, 458 ; superseded by Gates, 459 ; reinstated 
 in command, 481 ; his ignorance of the fate of St. 
 Clair, 495 ; his account of the Northern army at Fort 
 Edward, 499 ; proclamation issued by, 501 ; retreat 
 of, before Burgoyne, 509 ; efforts of, to obtain rein 
 forcements, 510 ; Congress determines to supersede, 
 523 ; Gates appointed the successor of noble con 
 duct of, when superseded, 524 ; house and mills 
 of, destroyed by Burgoyne, 566 ; kindness of, to 
 Baroness Reidesel -generosity of, to Burgoyne, 575. 
 
 Serapis, engagement of, with the Bon Homme Richard, 
 704-710 ; words said to have passed between Jones 
 and Pearson at the surrender of, 710. 
 
 Sevier, Col., at the battle of King s mountain, 797. 
 
 Seward, Anna, notice of, 762. 
 
 Shelby, Col., at the battle of King s mountain, 797; 
 British at Fairlawn surrender to, 893. 
 
 Sherbourne, Major, troops under the command of, 
 made prisoners near the Cedars, in 1776, 273. 
 
 Shippen, Miss Margaret, one of the "MiacManza" 
 ladies, 612 ; marriage of, with Arnold corres 
 pondence kept up by, with Andre, after her mar 
 riage tory proclivities of her family, 758. 
 
 Shirley, Braddock s secretary, death of, 78. 
 
 Shirley, Gov., his scheme for the capture of Louisburg, 
 7; letter of, to Pepperell, 14; coup de main on Louis- 
 burg abandoned by, 18 ; despatch of Pepperell to, 
 relating to the siege of Louisburg, 28 ; design of, to 
 invade Canada, in 1745, 30 ; expedition of, against 
 Niagara, 86. 
 
 Silliman, Gen., efforts of, to resist Tryon in his attempt 
 on Danbury, 464. 
 
 Silver Bluffs, British post at, reduced by Major Rudolph 
 after the evacuation of Camden, 863. 
 
 Simcoe, Col. , with Arnold in his expedition to Virginia, 
 820 ; despatched to the Point of York, 848 ; decep 
 tion practised by, upon Baron Steuben, 849. 
 
 Six Nations, Gen. Sullivan s expedition against sub 
 sequent history of (note), 677 ; destruction of the 
 houses and gardens of name of Town- Destroyer 
 applied to Washington by, 678. 
 
 Skene, Major, capture of the son of discovery of the 
 body of the wife of, 156 ; Burgoyne advised by, to 
 send an expedition to Bennington, 517 ; accompanies 
 Col. Baume on the expedition, 518. 
 
 Skenesborough, arrival of Burgoyne s gun -boats at 
 efforts of Col. Long for the defense of reinforce 
 ments sent to, 494 ; retreat of Col. Long from, to 
 Fort Edward delay of Burgoyne at, 498, 500. 
 
 Smallwood, Col., appearance of the regiment of, 299 ; 
 Marylanders under, 320 ; regiment of, at the battle 
 
 of Long island, 328; brigade of, at the battle of Cam- 
 den, 741 ; commands militia of North Carolina, 803. 
 Smith, Col. , expedition of, to seize arms at Concord, 
 141, 143 ; severely wounded on his retreat from 
 Concord, 146 ; reinforced by Lord Percy, 147. 
 Smith, Col., defends Fort Miillin, 587. 
 Smith, Joshua Hett, instrumentality of, in procuring 
 a meeting between Andre and Arnold, 766, 767 ; 
 arrested on suspicion of complicity with Arnold, 780. 
 Snow s island, camp formed by Gen. Marion on, 813. 
 South Carolina, ravages of the British in, 694 ; ex 
 pedition of Sir II. Clinton against, 721 ; operations 
 of the patriots in, 851 ; march of Gen. Greene into, 
 854; conduct of militia from, at Quinby bridge, 878; 
 legislature of, convened by Gov. Rutledge, 894. 
 Spain, independence of the United States acknowl 
 edged by, after the surrender of Burgoyne, 577. 
 Specht, Gen., in command of Brunswickers, 485. 
 Springfield, New Jersey, burned by the British, 750. 
 Stacey, sailing-master on the Bon Homme Richard, 
 
 reproved by Paul Jones for profanity, 707. 
 Stark, John, in the garrison of Fort William Henry, 
 in 1757, 98 ; in the expedition against Ticonderoga, 
 104 ; joins the patriots after the battle of Lexington, 
 150 ; his coolness under fire, on his way to Bunker s 
 hill, 171 ; commands New-Hampshire militia 
 biographical notice of, 519 ; refusal of, to obey the 
 orders of Gen. Lincoln, 520 ; in the neighborhood 
 of Bennington, 520, 521 ; his plan of attack upon 
 Col. Baume, 521 ; celebrated speech of, 522 ; good 
 influence of his victory, 523 ; militia under, refuse 
 to remain at the battle of Bemis heights, 539. 
 Staten island, troops of Gen. Howe lauded on, 307 ; 
 great accumulation of British troops at, 316 ; tories 
 in, 360 ; expedition against the British on, 720. 
 Stephen, Gen. Adam, appointed major-general, 452. 
 Sterling, Gen., mortally wounded by a sentinel, 747. 
 Steubeu, Baron F. W. A., arrives at Valley Forge 
 biographical notice of, 619 ; strongly recommended 
 by Franklin and Deane complimentary letter of, 
 to Washington, 620 ; appointed inspector-general 
 of the American army character and personal ap 
 pearance of, 621 ; important services rendered to 
 the American army by, 622 ; evidence of the value 
 of his labors, 684 ; Arnold pursued by, 827 ; driven 
 by Phillips and Arnold across the Appomattox, 845; 
 deception practised upon, by Col. Simcoe, at the 
 point of York junction of, with Wayne and Laf 
 ayette, 849 ; at the siege of Yorktown, 911. 
 Stevens, Gen., at the battle of Camden, 741 ; wounded 
 
 at the battle of Guilford courthouse, 840. 
 Stewart, Col., succeeds Rawdon at Orangeburg, 879 ; 
 retreat of, to Eutaw Springs, 883 ; attacked by Gen. 
 Greene at Eutaw Springs, 884 ; wounded at Eutaw 
 Springs, 890; command of, devolved on Major Doyle, 
 891 ; ravages of, in South Carolina, 892 ; succeeded 
 by Gen. Leslie, 894. 
 
I AND II.] 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 94? 
 
 Stillwater, American army at, under Gates, 512, 537. 
 
 Stirling, Col. , takes the works at Billingsport, 585. 
 
 Stirling, Lord, in command of the troops in New York 
 biographical notice of, 259 ; attacks Gen. Grant, 
 326 ; caught between the troops of Grant and Corn- 
 wallis, 328 ; surrender of, 82!) ; sent to New Jersey 
 with the Virginia and Maryland regiments, 385 ; 
 appointed major-general, 452 ; chosen to conduct an 
 expedition against Staten island, 720. 
 
 Stobo, Capt. R. , left as a hostage at Fort Necessity, 44. 
 
 Stockton, Major, and New-Jersey royalists, made pris 
 oners by Col. Nielson, 454. 
 
 Stony Point, capture of, by Sir II. Clinton, 695 ; history 
 of the capture of, by Wayne, 699 ; losses at 
 abandoned by Washington reoccupied by Sir II. 
 Clinton, 701 ; medals to Wayne and others, engaged 
 in the storming of, 712. 
 
 Sugar-loaf hill, fortification of, urged by Col. Trum- 
 bull, 488 ; importance of, discovered by Burgoyne, 
 491 ; taken possession of, by Gen. Phillips christ 
 ened " Mount Defiance" by the British, 492. 
 
 Sullivan, Gen. John, supersedes Wooster in Canada, 
 262 ; biographical notice of, 274 ; letter of, from 
 Canada, 275; Washington s opinion of Gen Thomp 
 son sent by, to attack the British at Three Rivers, 
 276 ; contradictory dispatches of, 277, 278 ; retreat 
 of, from Canada, 279 ; in charge of troops on Long 
 island, 322 ; negligence of, in not sending out 
 patrols, 326 ; surrender of, 329 ; anxiety of, for the 
 loss of the battle of Long island, 330 ; sent on board 
 Lord Howe s ship, 336 ; sent with a verbal message 
 from Lord Howe to Congress, 336-342 ; Adams 
 opinion of his mission from Howe to Congress, 347; 
 junction of, with Washington, near Coryell s ferry, 
 414 ; letter of Washington to, 456 ; letter conveyed 
 to, urging him to betray the American cause, 482 ; 
 charged with ill conduct at Staten island, 530 ; at 
 the battle of the Brandywine, 531 ; route of the di 
 vision of, at the battle of the Brandywine, 534 ; his 
 conduct at the battle of the Brandywine. 536 ; ex 
 pedition against the British on Rhode island under 
 the command of, 660 ; movements of, without the 
 co operation of D Estaing, 661, 662 ; indignation of, 
 at the conduct of D Estaing, 663 ; deserted by his 
 militia skilful retreat of battle fought by, with 
 the British on Rhode island 664 ; escapes from 
 Rhode island escapes from Sir H. Clinton, 665 ; 
 his expedition against the Mohawks, 677. 
 
 Sullivan s island, fort erected on, by Col. Moultrie, 289. 
 
 Sumner, Gen., at the battle of Eutaw Springs, 884. 
 
 Sumter, Col. and Gen., biographical notice of, 731; 
 scarcity of arms and ammunition among the patriots 
 under royal troops defeated by, 734 ; patriots Mock 
 to the standard of Prince of Wales regiment cut 
 to pieces by, at Hanging Rock patriots encouraged 
 by the enterprises of, 735 ; prisoners and baggage- 
 wagons intercepted by rapid pursuit of, and des- 
 
 l-f 
 
 truction of his force, 744 ; pursuit of, by Tarleton 
 attempt of Major Wemyss to surprise, 803 ; Tarle 
 ton defeated by, near Tiger river, 804 ; severely 
 wounded, 805 ; Fort Granby invested by driven 
 from the investment of Fort Watson attacked by 
 Major Fraser, near Camden, 852 ; " Raid of the Dog- 
 Days, " under the command of, 873 ; attacks Col. 
 Coates, at Monk s Corner, 874 ; attacks Coates. at 
 Shubrick s plantation, 877 ; returns to the camp of 
 Gen. Greene, 878 ; retires from the service, 882 ; his 
 encounter with Gen. Cunningham, 892. 
 
 Sutherland, Major, in command at Paulus Hook, 711. 
 
 " Swamp-Fox," a title given to Gen. Marion, 812. 
 
 T. 
 
 TALLMADGE, Major, conveys Andre to North Salem, 
 775 ; conversation of, with Andre, on his way to 
 Tappan, 781. 
 
 Tanacharisson, his advice to Ensign Ward, 35 ; his 
 message to Washington, 37 ; at the attack on 
 Jumonville, 38 ; at Fort Necessity, 41 ; deserts 
 Washington, 42 ; his opinion of Washington at 
 Fort Necessity, 45. 
 
 Tarleton, Col. B., biographical notice of death of his 
 cavalry-horses on the voyage from New York to 
 Charleston, 722 ; night-attack of, at Monk s Corner, 
 725 ; surprises Col. White at the Santee river, 726 ; 
 his massacre of troops under Col. Buford his 
 ferocity denounced in England, 730 ; pursues militia 
 at the battle of Camden, 742 ; decides the battle of 
 Camden, 743 ; routs Sumter s force, 745 ; defeated 
 by Sumter near Tiger river, 804; sent by Cornwallis 
 against Morgan, 814 ; pursues Davidson s riflemen, 
 829 ; narrow escape of Gen Greene from, 830 ; at 
 tempt of Pickens and Lee to surprise, 834 ; retreats 
 across the Haw river, 836 ; troopers of, driven back 
 at Guilford courthouse, 838 ; rapid ride of, from 
 Richmond to Charlottesville narrow escape of Jef 
 ferson from, 848; unhorsed in a cavalry-skirmish, 
 911 ; not invited to headquarters after the surrender 
 at Yorktown, 922 ; subsequent career of, 923. 
 
 Thayer, Major, obstinately defends Fort Mimin, 588. 
 
 Thomas, Gen., commands the American forces in 
 Canada, 260 ; retreats from before Quebec, pursued 
 by Sir G. Carleton, 261 ; death of, 262. 
 
 Thompson, Col. and Gen., attacks the British at Lech 
 mere s Point, 223 ; sent by Sullivan to attack the 
 British at Three rivers misled by his Canadian 
 guide, 276 ; attacked, routed and taken prisoner by 
 Gen. Fraser, 277. 
 
 Ticonderoga, expedition against, in 1758, 103 ; death 
 of Earl E. Howe at, 104 ; capture of, by Amherst, 
 107 ; expedition for the capture of, 152 ; capture of, 
 154 ; strife between Arnold and Allen for the com 
 mand of, 193 ; operations of Sir G. Carleton against, 
 195, 197 ; placed under the command of Gen. Mont 
 gomery, 197 ; artillery conveyed from, to Cambridge, 
 
948 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 [PATCTS 
 
 243 ; retreat of the American army to, 286 ; pre 
 parations for the defense of, against Carleton rein 
 forcements received at, 364 ; force collected at, by 
 Gen. Gates Carleton retires from small force left 
 at, under Gen. St. Clair, 870 ; threatening move 
 ments in Canada in relation to, 481 ; supposed by 
 Washington to be out of danger, 482, 487 ; St. Clair 
 ordered to, by Schuyler, 482 ; force at, inadequate 
 for its defense working-men and supplies sent to, 
 by Schuyler, 486 ; description of the bridge connect 
 ing, with Mount Independence, 487 ; the works at, 
 commanded by Sugar-loaf hill and Mount Hope, 
 488 ; approach of Burgoyne to, 489 ; weakness of 
 St. Glair s position at, 490 ; useless consumption of 
 powder at, 491 ; intentions of Burgoyne to invest 
 abandoned by St. Clair, 492 ; delight of George III. 
 on hearing of the capture of, 496 ; Washington 
 unwilling to believe the story of the loss of, 497 ; 
 Washington misinformed as to St. Clair s means of 
 defense at, 498 ; abandonment of, justified, 499. 
 
 Townshend, Col. George, in Wolfe s expedition against 
 Quebec, 109 ; suggestions of, adopted by Wolfe, 121 ; 
 assumes command on the death of Wolfe retreat 
 of De Bougainville before, 130. 
 
 Trenton, hour fixed for the attack upon, 417 : Col. 
 Ealil in command at, 418 ; Washington s plan for 
 the attack upon, 419 ; men frozen to death on the 
 march to. 420; names of officers at the battle of, 420, 
 421 ; losses at, 422 ; Washington commends his 
 troops for their conduct at failure of Gen. Putnam 
 to co-operate with Washington at, 423 ; effect of the 
 success at, 424 ; attempt of the British to surprise 
 Wayne and Pulaski at, 622. 
 
 Trumbull, Gov., row-galleys sent to Washington by, 
 to operate against the Rose and Phcsnix, 313 ; New 
 York tories consigned to the keeping of, 320 ; urged 
 to hastily equip the Connecticut troops, 450. 
 
 Trumbull, John, recommends the fortification of 
 Mount Defiance, commanding Ticonderoga, 488. 
 
 Tryon, Gov., heads a tory conspiracy, 287 ; expedition 
 under, to destroy stores at Danbury, 464 ; retreats 
 from Danbury attempt of Arnold to intercept- 
 pursued by Wooster, 466 ; retreats to his ships, 468; 
 sends copies of Lord North s "conciliatory bills" 
 to Washington resolutions of Congress offering 
 pardon sent to, by Washington, 628 ; marauding 
 expeditions of, 696, 697 ; salt-works destroyed by, 
 690 ; proclamation to the inhabitants of Connecticut 
 issued by, 697 ; excuse given by, for his burning of 
 houses in Norwalk thoroughly disliked by the 
 English people-Fairfield and Norwalk, laid in 
 ashes by, 698 ; his conduct approved by Lord 
 George Germain, 699. 
 
 V. 
 
 VALLEY FORGE, description of Washington s reasons 
 for selecting, for winter- quarters, 597 ; destitution 
 
 of the American army at, 598, 599 ; testimony of 
 Lafayette to the sufferings of the army at, 600 ; 
 letters of Gens. Huntington and Varnum, in relation 
 to the sufferings of the troops at anecdote of Wash 
 ington overheard at prayer at, 601 ; patience of the 
 troops at Washington authorized to supply the 
 necessities of the troops at, by force, 602 ; camp- 
 fever in, and desertions from the army at, 603 ; 
 committee of Congress visit, 617 ; Mrs. Washington 
 and other ladies in the camp at arrival of Gen. 
 Charles Lee and Ethan Allen in the camp at, 618 ; 
 arrival of Baron Steuben in the camp at, 619 ; re 
 ception at, of the news of the treaty with France, 
 626 ; rejoicings at 627 ; camp at, broken up, 633. 
 
 Vavtdreuil, Rigaud de, expedition of, against Fort 
 William Henry, 97; capitulates to Gen. Amherst 
 at Montreal, 134. 
 
 Vaughan, Gen., the British under, burn Esopus, 553. 
 
 Verplanck s Point, Sir H. Clinton lands at, 549 ; cap 
 ture of, by Sir H. Clinton, 695 ; guns of Stony Point 
 turned upon, by Gen. Wayne, 701. 
 
 Vincennes, fort at, recovered from the British, 693. 
 
 Viomenil, Baron de, leaves Newport for Portsmouth, 
 894 ; British redoubt at Yorktown stormed by, 913. 
 
 Virginia, levy of troops in, urged by Patrick Henry, 
 238 ; ravages of the British in, 695 ; bad conduct of 
 the militia from, at the battle of Camden, 742 ; ex 
 pedition against, intrusted to Arnold, 820 ; militia 
 from, at the battle of Guilford courthouse, 840 ; 
 ravages of Phillips and Arnold in, 845 ; British de 
 vastations in, 851 ; alarm caused in, by the invasion 
 of Cornwallis, 899 ; Washington and Rochambeau 
 determine to attack the British in, 900. 
 
 Vulture, British sloop-of war, sent to Teller s Point, 
 to facilitate a meeting between Arnold and Andre 
 correspondence of Arnold with Col. Robinson on 
 board of, 764 ; fired upon, from Teller s Point, 768; 
 Arnold escapes on board the, 777. 
 
 W. 
 
 WALLACE, Capt., attempted treasonable correspond 
 ence of Dr. Church with, 218 ; brutality of, 227 ; 
 anecdotes of, 227, 228 ; depredations of, in Rhode 
 island, 228. 
 
 Walpole, Horace, remarks of, on colonial affairs, in 
 1756-7, 96, 99 ; on Wolfe s victory at Quebec, 132 ; 
 on the battle of Lexington, 152; on the character 
 of Burgoyne. 484 ; on Lafayette s challenge to the 
 earl of Carlisle (note), 631. 
 
 Ward, Gen. Artemas, experience of, under Abercrom 
 bie, 159 ; sends aid to Prescott, on Breed s hill, 166 
 
 Warner, Col. Seth, supersedes Ethan Allen in com 
 mand of the " Green-Mountain Boys," 199 ; his op 
 portune arrival at the battle of Bennington, 522. 
 
 Warren, Commodore, refuses aid in the expedition 
 against Louisburg, 12 ; arrives with his fleet, at 
 Canseau, 14 ; friendly intercourse of, with Pepperell. 
 
I AND 11. \ 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 949 
 
 20 ; impatience of, at the slow progress of the 
 siege, 21, 22 ; captures the French ship Vigilante, 
 
 21 ; rivalry between, and Pepperell, 27 ; made an 
 admiral by the British government, 29. 
 
 Warren, Dr. Jos., sends warning to Concord of the 
 approach of Col. Smith, 141 ; at the battle of Lexing 
 ton, 148 ; volunteers as a private soldier, 171 ; death 
 of, at Breed s hill, 177 ; biographical notice of . 179. 
 
 Washington, Capt. William, at the battle of Trenton, 
 421 ; Col. Hamilton and others made prisoners by, 
 723 ; surprise of, at Monk s Corner, 725 ; Col. Rugely 
 and his command made prisoners of-war by, 811 ; 
 body of tories attacked and defeated by, 813 ; at the 
 battle of the Cowpens, 817 ; personal conflict of, 
 with Tarleton silver medal presented to, for his 
 services at the Cowpens, 818 ; at the battle of Guil- 
 ford courthouse, 840 ; at Hobkirk s hill, 857, 859 ; 
 Capt. Coffin s party surprised by, after the battle 
 of Hobkirk s hill, 859 ; on the lower Santee, 882 ; 
 at the battle of Eutaw Springs, 887. 
 
 WASHINGTON, GEORGE, commissioner to the French on 
 Lake Erie, 33; progress of, towards Little Meadows, 
 36 ; attacks the party of Jumonville 38 ; surrenders 
 Fort Necessity, 43 ; little justice done to, in England 
 slandered by the French, 46 ; invited by Braddock 
 to become one of his aids, 57 ; his advice asked by 
 Braddock at Little Meadows, 70 ; his sickness at 
 Great Crossings, 72 ; rejoins Braddock at Thickety 
 Run, 73 ; his escape at Braddock s defeat, 78 ; covers 
 Braddock s retreat, 79 ; horse and negro servant left 
 to, by Braddock reads the service at the burial of 
 Braddock, 81 ; hears the news of the battle of Lex 
 ington, 151 ; nominated as commander in-chief , 157; 
 accepts the appointment, 158 ; biographical notice 
 of, 182 ; school-days of midshipman s warrant ob 
 tained for, 183 ; surveys land of Lord Fairfax 
 initiated into military life visits Barbadoes, 184 ; 
 marriage of called to take command of the army 
 at Cambridge personal appearance of, 185 ; as 
 sumes command of the army, 186 ; desires the com 
 mencement of operations in Boston New England 
 disaffected towards, 214; fits out a fleet of schooners, 
 219; annoyed by the Connecticut troops, 224; ap 
 peals to the patriotism of the army, 232 ; unable to 
 move for want of troops and ammunition, 234 ; 
 honored for his services at Boston, 256 ; his opinion 
 of the British plans for negotiation, 270 ; his cares 
 and perplexities in New York, 271 ; conspiracy to 
 capture the person of influences an increase of the 
 army, 286 ; order issued by, in anticipation of the 
 encounter with Gen. Howe s forces, 302 ; commiser 
 ates the helpless in New York, 321 ; his anxiety on 
 the eve of the battle of Long island his activity 
 during the retreat from Long island, 336 ; has little 
 confidence in his troops, 338 ; annoyed at the bad 
 conduct of militia and Connecticut troops, 350 ; his 
 remarks on the necessity of reorganizing the army, 
 
 358 ; his opinion upon militia his efforts to prevent 
 the practice of plundering, 359 ; his anxiety lest he 
 should be left without troops, 383 ; his perplexity 
 as to Howe s movements, 386 ; letter of, in relation 
 to the loss of Fort Washington unsuspicious of 
 Gen. Lee, 396 ; duplicity of Lee and Col. Reed dis 
 covered by, 399 ; gravity of his manner after cross 
 ing the Delaware his confidence in final success 
 increased powers given to, 414 ; his letter touching 
 the difficulties of his position recommends the 
 formation of a standing army, 415 ; endowed with 
 the powers of dictator, 429 ; resolution conferring 
 the dictatorship upon, 430 ; his dangerous position 
 at Princeton, 434 ; anxiety felt for his safety at the 
 battle of Princeton, 435 ; his perplexity with regard 
 to the claims of foreign officers, 451, 470; his anxiety 
 respecting the recruitment of a new army, 451 ; 
 colonels of the new army appointed by, 452 ; appre 
 ciation of, in Europe, 454 ; affectionate treatment of 
 Hamilton by, 460 ; his preference of natives for 
 places of trust composition of his life-guard, 472 ; 
 his language respecting some of his officers at Mor- 
 ristown, 474 ; his perplexity as to the British on 
 Staten island and the Hudson, 481 ; unwilling to 
 believe the story of the loss of Ticonderoga, 497 ; 
 misinformed as to St. Glair s means of defense at 
 Ticonderoga, 498 ; letter, addressed to Burgoyne, 
 put into the hands of his camp removed to Ger- 
 mantown, 503 ; his first meeting with Lafayette, 
 504 ; his movements before the battle of the Brandy- 
 wine, 531 ; retreats to Germantown, 578 ; overheard 
 in private prayer at Valley Forge his sympathy 
 with the suffering troops at Valley Forge, 601 ; hia 
 encampment at Fredericksburg, 673 ; his remarks on 
 public men, 682 ; his hospitalities in camp, 684 ; hon 
 ors bestowed upon, by Louis XVI., 755 ; conference 
 of, with Count Rochambeau, 763 ; design of Arnold 
 to capture, 769 ; visits Mount Vernon, 903 ; personal 
 exposure of, at the siege of YorktoAvn, 912, 914, 915. 
 
 Washington, Mrs. , arrives at Cambridge, 225 ; leaves 
 New York for Mount Vernon, when Howe lands 
 on Long island, 323 ; at Valley Forge, 618. 
 
 Waterbury, Gen., taken prisoner in the naval engage 
 ment on Lake Champlain released on parole, 360. 
 
 Wayne, Gen. Anthony, brigadier-general, 452 ; his 
 contempt for British soldiers, 473 ; defeated near 
 the Schuylkill, 579 ; attacks the British at German- 
 town, 582 ; Philadelphia and Bucks counties laid 
 waste by, 623 ; at the battle of Monmouth, 636 ; 
 scheme of Cornwallis and Knyphausen to surprise, 
 674; willing to carry out plans of Washington, 696; 
 captures Stony Point, 699 ; wounded in the head, at 
 Stony Point, 700 ; mutiny of his troops, at Morris- 
 town, 821 ; led by a stratagem to make an attack on 
 Cornwallis, 850 ; British driven out of Georgia by, 
 894 ; occupies Charleston on the departure of the 
 British subsequent career of (note), 895. 
 
950 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 [PARTS 
 
 Wemyss, Major, devastations of, on the Pedee and 
 Black rivers, 794 ; attempts to surprise Surnter, 803 ; 
 wounded and a prisoner in the hands of Sumter, 804. 
 
 West Point, selected as a suitable site for a fort, G23 ; 
 fortification of, intrusted to Kosciusko, 624 ; Gen. 
 Putnam stationed at, 673 ; anxiety of Washington, 
 for the preservation of, 696 ; headquarters of Wash 
 ington at, 701 ; command of, solicited and obtained 
 by Arnold, 756 ; plans of, furnished to Major Andre 
 by Arnold troops of Sir H. Clinton embarked for 
 the purpose of capturing, 769. 
 
 Whitemarsh, reinforcements from the Northern army 
 received by Washington at, 593 ; Washington s 
 camp at, threatened by the British, 595 ; withdrawal 
 of the British from, in the night, 597. 
 
 White Plains, approach of Sir W. Howe s army 
 towards Washington s headquarters established 
 at Col. Glover at, 375 ; fortified camp at, 376 ; 
 battle of, 378 ; Alexander Hamilton s gallantry at, 
 379 ; condition of the troops at, 380 ; Howe awaits 
 reinforcements at, 381 ; retreat of Washington from 
 courthouse and other buildings burned at, 882 ; 
 withdrawal of the British from, 383 ; Washington 
 at, in 1778, 673. 
 
 Wilkinson, Maj. and Gen., his account of the capture 
 of Gen. Lee, 408 ; escape of, after the capture of 
 Lee, 413 ; life of Major Ackland saved by, at Bemis 
 heights, 558 ; sole American witness of the sur 
 render of Burgoyne, 573 ; made brigadier-general, 
 576 ; instrumentality of, in exposing Conway s 
 cabal, 615, 616. 
 
 Williamsburg, Va., property in, destroyed by Phillips 
 and Arnold, 845 ; Washington and Ilochambeau 
 arrive at, 907 ; rendezvous of the allies at, 908. 
 
 Williams, Col. Ephraim, sent by Col. Johnson to meet 
 Dieskau, 88 ; routed by Dieskau, 89. 
 
 Williams, Col. Otho Holland, cruel treatment of, as a 
 prisoner, 441 ; advice given by, to Gates, at the 
 battle of Camden, 742 ; covers the retreat of Gen. 
 Greene to the Dan rapid retreat of, to the Dan, 
 832 ; driven across the Haw by Cornwallis, 837 ; 
 at Hobkirk s hill, 857 ; at Eutaw Springs 884. 
 
 Wiuslow, Gen., sent against Fort William Henry, 93; 
 strengthens Forts Edward and William Henry, 96. 
 
 Wolfe, Gen. James, biographical notices of, 100, 107 ; 
 in the expedition against Louisburg, 102 ; expedi 
 tion against Quebec intrusted to personal descrip 
 tion of, 107 ; famous camp song written by, 108 ; 
 men afterwards distinguished, in his expedition 
 against Quebec, 109 ; enthusiasm pervading the 
 army under, 110 ; proclamation issued by, 113 ; ac 
 tivity of, in studying the defenses of Quebec, 117 ; 
 effect upon, of his failure at Moutmorenci, 120 ; 
 news of the successes of Amherst and Johnson re 
 ceived by devises plans of attack, during sick 
 
 ness, 121 ; his despondent letter to Pitt, 123 ; daring- 
 resolve of, to attain the Plains of Abraham obtains 
 information, from a deserter, 124 ; last orders of, 
 to his army, 125 ; disposition of his forces when at 
 tacked by Montcalm, 128 ; his conduct on the field 
 of battle mortally wounded, 129 ; death of, 130 ; 
 honors paid to the memory of, 132. 
 
 Wooster, Gen. David, inactivity of, at Montreal and 
 Quebec, 260 ; disagreement of Arnold with, 261 ; 
 superseded by Gen. Sullivan, 262 ; mortally wound 
 ed, when in pursuit of Gov. Tyron death of, 467 ; 
 biographical notice of, 468. 
 
 Wyoming, description of the vale of, 649 ; frequently 
 the scene of Indian warfare Count Zinzendorf the 
 first white man who visited the valley of, 650 ; orig 
 inally settled by New-Englanders, 651 ; claims of a 
 Pennsylvania company in the vale of volunteers 
 from, for the continental army threatened by the 
 British and Indians, 652 ; efforts made in, for de 
 fense, under the leadership of Col. Z. Butler, 652, 
 653 ; gunpowder made in, by the aid of the women 
 inhabitants of, march to meet the enemy, 653 ; 
 patriots defeated and massacred, 654 ; anecdotes of 
 the massacre of, 654, 655 ; capitulation of the de 
 fenders of, in Fort Forty, 655 ; abandoned by Col. 
 John Butler to his Indians, 656 ; houses of, pillaged 
 and burned by the Indians, 656, 657 ; exodus of the 
 survivors of the massacre at monument erected 
 at, 657. 
 
 Y. 
 
 YADKIN river, a rise in, interrupts the pursuit of 
 Greene by Cornwallis march of Cornwallis to the 
 upper fords of, 830. 
 
 Yorktown, shipyard, vessels, and stores, destroyed at, 
 845 ; fortified by Cornwallis, 896 ; approach of the 
 allied armies to, 909 ; confidence of Cornwallis in 
 his power to defend description of the fortifications 
 of, 910 ; investment of, by the allies, 911 ; opening 
 of the first parallel at the siege of, 912 ; French 
 driven from their batteries at, 915 ; articles of 
 capitulation of, 918 ; imposing scene at the sur 
 render of, 919 ; number of troops surrendered at, 
 922 ; Sir H. Clinton sails from New York for the 
 relief of, on the day of the surrender, 924 ; evacu 
 ated by both armies within two weeks after its sur 
 render the surrender at, virtually closed the War 
 for Independence, 925 ; reception in England of the 
 news of the surrender of Lord North powerfully 
 effected by the fall of, 926 ; operations of Gen. 
 Greene after the surrender of, 893. 
 
 Z. 
 
 ZINZENDORF, Count, the first white man who pene 
 trated the vale of Wyoming preservation of, from 
 Indian murderers biographical notice of (note), 650. 
 
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