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NRPREFACE

Tue design and plan of the present work are entirely new.
[ts object is to exhibit the spirit and character of the Revolu-
tionary period; to portray, as far as possible in so brief a
record, the social and domestic condition of the times, and
the state of feeling among the people, with something of the
services and experience of a class not usually noticed among
those whose names live in historical remembrance. With
this view, a short and comprehensive narrative of the succes-
sive events of the war is interspersed with domestic details
and anecdotes illustrative of the state of the country at va-
rious intervals.

My researches during some years past in collecting authen-
tic materials for ‘The Women of the American Revolution,”
have brought to light many interesting incidents connected
with the war, so strikingly characteristic of the times, that
they should not be suffered to pass into oblivion. These are
sparingly used, because more of them would have swelled the

volume to an unsuitable size ; and all that possessed merely a
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v1 PREFACE.
personal interest have been excluded. It has also been found
necessary to omit the minor details of military movements,
which form the bulk of almost every history of the war.
This omission, I think, will prove an advantage. The
most attentive reader of history seldom retains in his memory
more than the prominent incidents, losing sight of minute
and complicated particulars as soon as he rises from his
studies; it may be questioned, therefore, whether it be not
useless to perplex the learner with a multitude of details com-
paratively unimportant. I cannot help believing, too, that a
really better idea of the Revolution may be obtained from
anecdotes that exhibit the spirit which was abroad among all
classes, and which prompted to action, than from the most
accurate transcript of the manceuvres by which different
battles were lost and won, and the most precise statement of
the number engaged, or of killed and wounded on either side.
Accordingly I have given in general merely the date and
locality of the principal battles, with the names of the leaders
who were most conspicuous.

Wherever account is given of individual experience, it is
for the purpose of showing what many did or suffered. An
inadequate conception of the character of that heroic age of
the Republic is afforded by general tradition, and it is only by
collating such authentic records of individual action and endur-
ance as have been preserved, that a correct idea may be formed
The great Duke of Marlborough once said he had learned

English history from the dramas of Shakspeare ; and we all

SS SE SOU EER SSR CES ESO EES SNPREFACE. Vil

know the effect of a historical romance in impressing events
on the memory; how much greater should be the advantage
derived from domestic pictures drawn from actual life over
those which are at best but admirable imitations!

To guard against misapprehension, it is proper to say, that
in this attempt to present in a new and interesting light the
history of our struggle for national existence, there is nothing
of fanciful embellishment. I hold in just aversion the ro-
mancing trash under which, at the present day, the simple
and picturesque—because simple—realities of our American
story seem in danger of being buried. Not only has no aid
of fiction been employed, but no traditional matter has been
introduced, unless sustained by indisputable authority.

It will be observed that I have entered rather closely into
the story of the war in the upper districts of South Carolina.
One reason for this is—that no history has ever yet done jus-
tice to that section of country, or to the actors who there
bore their part in the struggle; another—that its partisan
warfare was eminently domestic. Not only were neighbors
divided and arrayed against each other, but the demon of civil
discord invaded dwellings, and scowled neside the sacred
hearthstone ; in many cases it was literally true that a man’s
foes were those of his own household. ‘This state of things
gave rise to an unusual variety of picturesque and romantic
incidents, from a large store of which but few are selected,—
those which merely display the patriotism, fortitude, or

prowess of individuals, not being suited to my purpose.Cnet

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Vill PREFACE.

In recording incidents of the war at the South, I have not
relied on unsupported tradition. The military movements in
that region are detailed in some manuscript records prepared
by prominent actors in the scenes described. For a sight of
these valuable documents I am indebted to Daniel G. Stinson,
Esq., of Chester District, South Carolina, whose aid I have
had occasion to acknowledge in another work.

I have not thought it best, by enumerating authorities, to
embarrass the volume with notes ; but it is not proper to pass
without acknowledgement the assistance derived from Mr.
Willson’s and Mr. Henry’s general compendiums, among
others, and my obligations to Henry Onderdonk, Jr., Hsq.,
for the notices of the British prisons and prison ships at New
York, with the account of the Illicit Trade on Long Island
Sound, and the Whaleboat Warfare ; as well as for other mat-
ters of interest gleaned from his work. Collins’ History of
Kentucky, with other books on the subject, has been consult-
ed in the brief sketch of early settlements at the West.CON PENT 8.

 

CHAPTER I.
PaGes
nue titan Colonies in North Am@rics.” ssc sis k 6é'w 6206 60 oe ck-ok scan

CHAPTER II.

Viticnities wita Groat Britain: 22. : oe 6...

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Pommencement of tha Ware =] 26 Oh os sees we Wee was We elakere of old's ave wists Ae

CHAPTER IV.
State of Society—Female Influence—Evacuation of Boston—Attempt at the

Bonin— Battie of VMoorée7s. Creek .4..5 6 5 fs tes & oehe oo style ose a ses GG oe

CHAPTER V.

Declaration of Independence—Female Spy—Battle of Long Island....... . 49

CHAPTER VI.

Occupation of New York—State of the Country—Retreat through New Jer-

sey —American Successes. .....«.-. ee a ahs she ay ae ee a eee eety
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CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VII.

PAGE
Sentiment of Europe— Winter Quarters—New Attempt on Philadelphia—Oc-

cupation— March of Burgoyne—Murder of Jane WiGG reac 2 swe tus pepecsss te

CHAPTER VIII.

The Battles of Saratoga—the Prisoners at Cambridge. ...+eescecesecees 85

CHAPTER IX.

Female Agency—Valley Forge—State of Philadelphia... ,.cccevcccecices 96

CHAPTER X.

Rritiel: Prisons in New York. .... 0s cscees ccc ce vetscveneeces csc ell

CHAPTER XI.

British Prison Ships—The Illicit Trade on Long Island Sound—Whaleboat

RM od ee fn eee Sees Nan WaG sine Oe et ee s Serene

CHAPTER XII.

The French Alliance—The Mischianyza—Battle of Monmouth—Condition of

the Country...... ee Ce oy Weak 6 N.S © RR eee ee nee ee eee

CHAPTER XIII.

Indian Depredations—The Massacres at Wyoming and Cherry Valley...e. 14€

CHAPTER XIV.

Attack on the South—Subjugation of Georgia—Scenes in South Carolina—

Siege of Savannah—Close of the Campaign of 1779... 4... e+ seeseeree 151

CHAPTER XV.

/ampaign of 1780—Surrender of Charleston—Conquest of South Carolina

First Outbreak of Renewed Resistance... 2... ee eee eee eee eee ees 16€CONTENTS,

CHAPTER XVI.

Pa@r
\ Scotch-Irish Settlement—Result of Martin’s Preachin g—Battle at Mobley’s

BROCE RIOUSG 5 65 50 ca n'a a Sian 3 ewes o eA a bee ba ea eb ee ee

CHAPTER XVII.

incursions of Huck—Battle at Williamson’s—* Bloody Bill Cunningham.?’’, , .184

CHAPTER XVIII.

Battles of Rocky Mount and Hanging Rock—Surprise at Fishing Creek... 195

CHAPTER XIX.

Surprise of Steel—Condition of the Country. ....ccccscccecvecsceeces 200

CHAPTER XxX.

The Warning at Green Spring—Battle of King’s Mountain—Blackstocks—

Statevof Charleston ond the Country s<< soe. soe cae castes couse lle

CHAPTER XXI.

State‘of the Country in other Districts. .:..< <0 ss 605 cece ues woelc so eee

CHAPTER XXII.

Incursion into New Jersey—Indian Ravages in the Valley of the Mohawk. .239

CHAPTER XXIII.

Treason of Arnold—Contributions in Philadelphia—Revolt of Pennsylvania

Troops—Greene at the South—Battle of the Cowpens. .......c+e+00. 249

CHAPTER XXIV.

kKatreat of Greene—Return—Battles of Guilford and Hobkirk’s Hill—Fort

Woatte) 6.8 ce ee Bk ee an a Oe es ea esL

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXV.

Pace

Attack on Ninety-Six— Battle of Eutaw—March of Cornwallis into Virginia—

Siege of Yorktown—Burning of New London—Surrender of Cornwallis. 278

CHAPTER XXVI.

Karly Settlements at the West—Kentucky—Tennessee. «1... eee eee eee 2029)

CHAPTER XXVII.

PO RUISI OVE © ce eng eb oem aly coals Gale or ole Garage. Orb ee Wt A BICMIE 6 Roe ee & enue. ete $03DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

 

CHAP TE Bf.

THE BRITI8H COLONIES IN NORTH AMERICA

Ir is well known that Christopher Columbus discovered the
New World in 1492. The first navigators who reached the
American continent were John Cabot and his son Sebastian,
who sailed from England and arrived at the coast of Labrador
in June, 1497. The French employed discoverers and took
possession of lands chiefly in the northern part of the country,
while the Spaniards claimed Florida, and finally established
the first permanent European settlement on our shores.

The several attempts made to plant colonies within the
limits of the United States, in the sixteenth century, proved
unsuccessful, and no permanent settlement was made before
1607. Sir Walter Raleigh, having received from Queen Khi-
zabeth a transfer of the patent granted to Sir Humphrey Gil-
bert, in 1584 visited a portion of the coast. The report

brought by the navigators tothe queen was so flattering thatcea ETE EOE EEE EEE

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i4 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

she gave the new country the name of Virginia, in honor of a
virgin sovereign. The whole region between the thirty-fourth
and forty-fifth degrees of north latitude was thus called. In
the reign of James I. it was granted by royal charter to two
companies formed to settle it; the southern part, named
South Virginia, to a company of merchants called the London
Company ; and the northern, or North Virginia, to a corpo-
ration called the Plymouth Company.

In 1607 the colonization of Vircinra was commenced un-
der the auspices of the London Company. The first settle-
ment was made at Jamestown. Captain John Smith was the
‘eader in this enterprise, and had many adventures. Being
taken captive by the Indians, he was condemned to death by
Powhatan, the chief of the savage confederacy, but saved by
Pocahontas, the chief’s young daughter. Smith learned much
from the Indians, gained their confidence and good will, and
supported his companions by his energy and activity. His ge-
nius and wise management established the colony. After his
return from Virginia, he explored the north-eastern coast of
the United States, and Prince Charles, at his suggestion, gave
that country the name of New England.

The Dutch began to settle New York in 1613. They
established themselves on the island of Manhattan, now New
York. A naval force from Jamestown, under Capt. Argall,
in the same year compelled the Dutch to submit to the au-
thority of the British monarch. In 1664 the English finally
conquered and took possession of the colony.

Two unsuccessful attempts were made in the beginning of

the century, to form settlements in New England, by the Ply-CHAPTER I. 15

mouth Company and Capt. Smith; but the first permanent
one—the colony of PLymourn—was formed by the Pilgrims
in 1620. These were Puritans, dissenters from the Church
of England. Being by laa required, under the heaviest pen-
alties, to attend the established worship, they quitted their
country, and sought in Holland “ freedom to worship God”
according to their own consciences. The distresses suffered
there determined them to remove to the wilds of America.
They procured a patent from England, sailed from Plymouth
in a small vessel called the May Flower, and landed on Ply-
mouth rock, Dec. 21st, 1620. They suffered much from hard-
ship and sickness, yet trusted in the protection of the God for

whose sake they had left home and friends, and who was to

 

make of them a great people.

The settlement of New Hampsurre was begun in 1623, at
the mouth of the Piscataqua River, and afterwards at Dover,
Portsmouth and Exeter. In 1628 the colony of Massacuu-
seTTS Bay was established under a grant of Jands from the
Plymouth Company. Salem was first settled, and afterwards
Charlestown, Boston, and other towns in the vicinity. This
colony in 1641 received under its government the settlements
in New Hampshire; but in 1679 New Hampshire was made
a separate province by royal ordinance. In 1692 the Ply-
mouth and Massachusetts colonies were incorporated into one. |
Maine, settled in 1629, was united to Massachusetts in 1652. | \

New Jersey was settled by the Danes about 1624. Some |
Dutch families soon afterwards planted themselves near New | | :
York. The country was conquered in 1655 by Peter Stuyve- |

sant, the Dutch governor of New York, and finally came into16

 

DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

the possession of the English on their conquest of New York
in 1664.

The king of Sweden, Gustavus Adolphus, sent over a co-
lony of his subjects, who settled in. DeLawarein 1627. The
Dutch settlers on the other side of the Delaware river disputed
the possession of the country with the Swedes. They obtain-
ed it in 1655, and in 1664 yielded it to the English. Manry-
LAND was settled by English Roman Catholics, in 1634. Lord
Baltimore, who had explored the country, obtained the terri-
tory by royal patent, and it was called Maryland in honor of -
Queen Henrietta Maria.

Both Connecticut and RuopE Isianp were first settled
by companies from Massachusetts ; the settlement of the for-
mer province being commenced at Hartford, 1635, and that
of the latter at Providence in the following year. Providence
was established by Roger Williams, a Baptist, who had been
4 persecuted in Massachusetts on account of his religion. . The
followers of Mrs. Anne Hutchinson, whose religious opinions
were condemned by the Puritans, also sought homes in Rhode
| Island.

Md 3 NortH CAROLINA was occupied by settlers from Virginia
about the middle of the century; SourH CaroLina some
years later. In 1680 Charleston was founded, and about ten

“~ years afterwards came the French Protestants, or Huguenots,
driven from their country by religious persecution, after the

| revocation of the edict of Nantes. They made their home
ehiefly in South Carolina.

PENNSYLVANIA was settled in 1682, under a grant made by

Charles II. to William Penn, the great Quaker, after whom7

  

CHAPTER I. 1?

the provimee was named. He drew the plan of Philadelphia
and gave it its name, which signifies “ brotherly love.” Thus
all the colonies composing the original thirteen States, except
Georgia, were established before the close of the seventeenth
century.

Georcra became a colony in 1733. It was settled under a
patent granted to twenty-one trustees, for the purpose of giv-
ing land gratuitously to the poor of Great Britam. A num-
ber of benevolent persons in England sent over the new colo-
nists, and provided them with necessaries to begin the set-
tlement. The province was named Georgia in honor of the
British monarch.

The limits of this volume will not permit us to enter into the
history of the separate colonies. Hach had its peculiar and
separate government, subject to the jurisdiction of Great Bri-
tain. In 1643 the four colonies of Plymouth, Massachusetts,
Connecticut, and New Haven, formed a union by articles of
confederation, and adopted the style of ‘‘ The United Colonies
of New England.” ‘The object of this union was to protect
themselves against the Indians and against the encroachments
of the Dutch of ‘“‘ New Netherlands,”’ as New York was then
called. New England suffered much in 1675, ina war with
the Indian tribes called ‘‘ King Philip’s war,”’ after the great
Indian Sachem.

The rebellion of Bacon in Virginia, which broke out
about the same time, was caused by oppressive restric-
tions on commerce, and heavy taxes imposed by the governor
The New England colonies were severely oppressed in the

reign of James IT., under the tyrannical administration of tha
Btsean eater eae aemaetaamai EI oe.

adm tepaanie

 

18 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

sovernor appointed by him, Sir Edmund Andros. The trou-
bles and discontents in New York arose from the same causes.
Jacob Leisler was at the head of the disaffected. All thesc
commotions tended to develope the spirit which in time aspir-
ed to national independence.

The English Revolution, which in 1689 placed Willian:
and Mary on the throne, delivered the colonies from the op-
pressions they had suffered. Massachusetts received a new
charter in 1692. In this year occurred the trials for witch-
craft, in which so many unfortunate persons were accused,
imprisoned and executed. These scenes were enacted chiefly
in Salem and the neighboring towns.

The colonies were involved in the war between France and
Kngland, commonly called King William’s War—which last-
ed from 1690 to the peace of Ryswick, 1697. It was follow-
ed in 1702 by “‘ Queen Anne’s War,” which was ended by
the treaty of Utrecht, 1713. Bythis France ceded Newfound-
land and Nova Scotia to England. In 1744 war was again
declared by England against France, and the colonies were
plunged into hostilities with the French and their savage al-
lies. This war was most disastrous to the colonies, involving
them in losses and debt. It was closed in 1748 by the peace
of Aix-la-Chapelle. The conflicting claims, however, of
France and Great Britain to the possession of territories in
America in a short time rendered another war inevitable
Chis brings us to what is called ‘‘The French and Indian
War.”

The French had possession of Canada and Louisiana, and were

engaged in connecting these territories by a chain of militaryCHAPTER I.

 

19

posts along the Lakes and Ohio River, to prevent the encroach-
ments of the Hnglish. The Ohio company in 1750 obtained
from the English government a grant of a large tract of land
on the Ohio, where they designed to open a trade with the
Indians. ‘The French governor in Canada, who claimed the
whole country between the Ohio and the Alleghanies, inter-
fered with their proceedings. Goy. Dinwiddie, of Virginia,
after complaints of acts of violence to the traders, in 1753
determined to send a remonstrance to the French command-
ant stationed near the Ohio, and require him to withdraw
his troops from the territory, which he regarded as belonging
to the charter limits of Virginia. The bearer of this des-
patch was Greorce Wasurneron, who, then a youth, thus
entered first on his career of public service.

The French commandant refused to comply with the demand ;
the British government determined to resist the French claim
by force, and in 1754 Washington conducted a hostile expe-
dition into the disputed territory. He was obliged by the
French to capitulate, and returned with his troops to Virginia.
The British government now recommended the colonies to
unite for their common defence. At this period their general
history may be said to commence. Before this time they had
been distinct and separate ; bound to each other only by a
common origin and language.

A convention of delegates from the northern colonies met
at Albany in 1754, a 1a plan of union, drawn up by Benja-
min Franklin, was adop ed. It was rejected, however, both
in England and America; the British conceiving that it gave

too much power to the people, and the colonists, too much to20

 

DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

the crown. Hostilities went on, and the English forces gained
possession of Nova Scotia. An expedition under Gen. Brad-
dock against Fort Du Quesne was less fortunate. His troops
were surprised on the banks of the Monongahela, and defeated
by an inferior force of French and Indians. Braddock fell,
mortally wounded, and Col. Washington, who, though shot at
repeatedly by the Indians, had been wonderfully preserved in
the battle, conducted the retreat, and saved the army from
destruction.

A victory over the French on the borders of Lake George,
in which their commander, Baron Dieskau, fell, followed in a
few weeks, and revived the spirits of the Americans. In
1756 war was formally declared between Great Britain and
France, and what is called “‘ the seven years’ war’? began in
Europe. This year’s campaign in America was extremely
disastrous to the colonists, and they accomplished little. The
French, on the other hand, took Fort Oswego, and thus gain-
ed command of Lakes Ontario and Erie. Jn 1757 Montcalm,
the French commander, besieged and took Fort William
Henry, on the southern shore of Lake George. This fort
was defended by Col. Munroe. The British troops, after the
capitulation, were treacherously massacred by the Indians in
Montcalm’s army.

The campaign of 1758 was more successful. The great states-
man, William Pitt, afterwards Harl of Chatham, became prime
minister, and took the guidance of public affairs. The colo-
nies answered his call by new supplies of men, and the tide of
success turned in favor of Britain. Fort Du Quesne was oc-

cupied by the English and named Pittsburgh ; Fort FrontenaoCHAPTER I. 21

at the outlet of Lake Ontario was captured, and in the fol
lowing year the other French strongholds in Canada, with
Ticonderoga, Crown Point, and Niagara, fell into the hands
of the British. The celebrated Gen. Wolfe led the British
and colonial troops against Quebec, defeated the French un-
der Montcalm on the Plains of Abraham, and died on the
field in the moment of vietory. In less than a year from
the fall of Quebec, the French were dispossessed not only
of the disputed territories, but of their ancient provinee of
Canada.

By the treaty of peace signed at Paris in 1763, France
ceded to Great Britain her northern possessions, and Spain
gave Florida in exchange for Havana. England was now
almost sole mistress of the northern continent, and had three
millions of loyal subjects in the colonies. These colonies had
increased in wealth as well as population, had made rapid pro-
gress In commerce, and poured agricultural riches into the lap
of the mother country. They loved and revered England,
but her avarice and desire of power led her to oppress her
dutiful children. For more than a century restrictions had
been imposed on colonial trade and manufactures discouraged,
to compel the Americans to buy and sell exclusively in the
British markets.

These enactments of Parliament were regarded as op-
pressive and unjust, and produced much dissatisfaction.
Respectful remonstrance, however, passed unnoticed, and the
right of the home government to legislate for and tax the
colonies was maintained by the universal sentiment in Britain.

Thus grew and ripened the discontent which, with progressive22 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

encroachments, led the way to a final rupture. On the other

hand, the necessity of uniting for their common defence, and
concerted action against the enemy, had created a national

spirit, and strengthened the ties of friendship between the
colonies.x
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Page 23.C HAP T © RF I.

DIFFICULTIES WITH GREAT BRITAIN.

Tue Edinburgh Review says of the Declaration of Amert-
can Independence, that it is the most important event in the
history of mankind Certainly the great Act by which thir-
teen colonies shook off the British yoke, and sprang into
being as independent States, had remarkable consequences on
both sides of the Atlantic. The war was one of principle—of
principle involving the welfare of all nations ; for it decided
whether or not men were to be ruled without their own con-
sent ; whether or not one privileged class was to trample at
will on the rights of another. It declared the common rights
of mankind. It proved a warning to oppressors, and an en-
couragement to the oppressed, throughout the world. We
are now to trace, as briefly as possible, the causes which led
to this Revolution.

In 1764 it was proposed in England to replenish the ex-
hausted treasury by taxing the colonies. George Grenville
gave notice that at the ensuing session he should propose a
duty on stamps. Great dissatisfaction prevailed in America

at these proceedings. The people urged that as the coloniesiether

ta dees Mar GREECE

 

24 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

were not represented in parliament, they should not be taxed
Remonstrances were addressed to government, and agents
were sent to prevent the passage of the Stamp Act. It pass-
ed in March, 1765. By this act, no instruments of writing—
deeds, bonds, notes, ete., could be legal unless drawn on stamp-
ed paper, for which a duty was to be paid to the crown.

The night after the passage of this bill, Dr. Franklin wrote
to Charles Thomson, “ The sun of liberty is set; you must
light up the candles of industry and economy.” The next
day, Dr. Fothergill, on a visit to Miss Graeme, a young Ame-
rican lady in London, said— Betsy, yesterday you were
inade a slave of.”” She imagined he was jesting on the sub-
ject of matrimony, and answered—“ No, sir, I am slave to no
man ; my heart is my own!” The physician replied, “Heart
has nothing to do with it! you and all your country-people
were yesterday enslaved, for the bill passed the House for the
American Stamp Act.”

The passage of the Stamp Act was the entering wedge to
the dismemberment of the British empire. The news was re-
seived in America with a perfect storm of opposition. Pat-
rick Henry, the first to hurl the gauntlet, introduced resolu-
tions against it into the Virginia Assembly ; Massachusetts
was moved by a kindred spirit, and a congress of deputies
from several of the colonies, forming the first Colonial Con-
gress, was convened in October. The popular feeling became
inflamed to the utmost, and all classes were excited: The
daughter of Dr. Franklin wrote to her father— The subject
aow is Stamp Act, and nothing else is talked of. The DutchCHAPTER II 95

talk of the ‘Stamp tack’—the negroes of the ‘ tamp’—in short
everybody has something to say.”

The first of November, the day on which the Act was to go
into operation, was kept asa day of mourning. The shops were
shut, the flags of the vessels were at half mast, and the bells
were tolled as if fora funeral. At Portsmouth a coffin in-
scribed with the name of “‘ Liberty”? was buried with a funeral
procession. In New York the Act was printed and paraded
through the streets, with a death’s head and cross-bones substi-
tuted for the royal arms, and the title “‘ England’s Folly and
America’s Ruin.” Popular detestation of the measure was
further manifested by destroying and sending back large quan-
tities of the stamped paper. The merchants of New York,
Boston, and Philadelphia entered into engagements not to
import goods from Great Britain till the Act should be repeal-
ed, and individuals gave up foreign luxuries to support these
measures for suspending trade.

In March, 1766, the Stamp Act was repealed, and a tem-
porary calm succeeded the storm. But the flame of diseord
was soon fanned anew by other encroachments. It seemed,
indeed, at this dreary period of British history, that the mo-
narch and his ministry were laboring hard to tear from its
socket and cast away forever, the brightest jewel of the impe-
rial crown. At this interval, even Chatham’s voice was pow-
erless to arouse the nation, and induce Parliament to pause.
By the revival of the scheme of taxation, the varied vexations
of obnoxious duties, and the display of military force to compel

submission, did penny-wise politicians, in the happy phrase
2 cpio

crept serena eauadmriin

mete emer ee
Z ~ y Z

 

26 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

of the day, ‘‘ tease America into resistance,” and hasten thu
great catastrophe.

There were not wanting some, even in England, who
sought by moderate and constitutional means to stay the
hand of misgovernment and oppression. Yet onward, step
by step, the monarch and his ministers—he, if possible,
more infatuated than they, advanced in the career of tyran-
nical folly. Remonstrance was vain; they could not be
persuaded that it would ever become resistance. In 1769 and
1770, after five years of folly, the crisis was almost reached.
The duties on tea being still imposed, while others were re-
moved, the ports of New York and Philadelphia were closed
against the tea ships, and that Janded in Charleston was not
permitted to be sold, but was stored in damp cellars, and
spoiled. Associations in every part of the country were
formed against the use of tea, and the women showed them-
selves ready to give up this much loved luxury, when it could
only be procured at the sacrifice of their country’s honor and
liberties. The Boston Gazette, the leading ‘rebel newspa-
per,”’ mentions an agreement signed by the Boston women in
February, 1770, not to drink any tea till the revenue acts
were repealed. Similar movements were made in New York
and Virginia, and few ventured to sell the prohibited article.
Mrs. Adams, in a letter to Mrs. Warren, calls the tea “ that
baneful weed,” and hopes opposition will be made to its
landing in Boston.

In December, 1773, a party of several men, in the cos-
tume of Mohawk Indians, went after dark, followed by a

multitude of people, to the wharf where the tea ships wereCHAPTER II. 27

lying, boarded the vessels, broke open the chests of tea,
and threw their contents into the sea. Three hundred
and forty-two chests of tea were thrown overboard in
three hours. After this exploit they marched back quietly
These proceedings excited the anger of the British govern-
ment, and in March, 1774, a bill was passed prohibiting all
commercial intercourse with Boston, and forbidding the land-
ing and shipping of goods at that port. This was called the
‘ Boston Port Bill,” and was followed by other violent mea-
sures. Well might one of the women of that day write—
“Qh, America! you have reason to tremble and arouse, if
we on this side the Atlantic are not able to say to this royal
vengeance—‘ hitherto shalt thou come and no further ; here
shall thy proud waves be stayed !? ”

All the colonies sympathized in the common cause. The
tyranny of Goy. Tryon of North Carolina had inflamed the
love of liberty in that province. The association of Regula-
tors had spread over the western counties of the Carolinas,
and kept alive a spirit of resistance to governmental oppres-
sion. Jn the spring of 1771 Gov. Tryon proceeded against
them with an armed force, a battle ensued, and the cruelties
practised by Tryon towards the vanquished, for the purpose
of awing the people, planted more deeply the seeds of discon-
tent.

The general Congress met at Philadelphia, 1774, in the full
determination to effect, if possible, a reconciliation with the
mother country. It was not their wish to rush madly into an
unnatural contest. They declared their rights and grievances,

and appealed to the King and people of Great Britain for re

     
   
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
  
   
    
 
 
 
 
  
  
 

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28 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOL"ITION.

dress. These peaceful measures, however, were ineffectual,
and the approach of the storm was perceived by the sagacious
on both sides of the Atlantic. Ships of the line and troops
were ordered by the British government to America to reduce
the rebels to obedience, and hostile preparations were made
in Massachusetts and other colonies to meet determined op-
pression by resistance The people practised military tactics ;
the fife and drum were heard on every side, old and young
being engaged in martial exercises, and stores of arms and
ammunition were collected. The crisis had arrived, and
there was a general waiting for the signal of open war.

One manifestation of the general feeling in Boston, the
winter after the arrival of the British troops, was remarkable.
Some of the crown officers who thought the public gloom dis-
loyal, got up a series of dancing assemblies, in hopes, by
engaging the higher classes in festivity, to contradict the as-
sertions of prevailing distress, and undermine the stern reserve
maintained towards the army. But out of their own limited
circle they could not induce any ladies to attend. Elegant
manners, gay uniforms, animating music—all were resisted by

the women, who refused to join in gaieties while their country

was in mourning.tease HEE EEE EEE

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BATTLE OF LEXINGTON.
Page 29.(RAP YT ERLE!

COMMENCEMENT OF THE WAR.

Ar length the storm burst forth. On the night of April
18th, 1775, Gen. Gage, the royal governor of Massachusetts
and commander of the British forces in Boston, sent a detach-
ment of eight hundred soldiers to destroy some military stores
at Concord. His design became known to patriots in the
city, and early on the following morning the firmg and ring-
ing of bells spread the alarm that the royal troops were in
motion. A number of provincial militia were found assem-
bled at Lexington, on the road to Concord, when the British
appeared on the morning of the 19th. Major Pitcairn rode
up and ordered them to throw down their arms and disperse.
Not being obeyed, he ordered his men to fire upon them.
Hight of the militia were killed, and the detachment proceed-
ed to Concord and destroyed the stores. But the spirit of
the people was roused, and on the return of the British troops
to Boston they were continually fired at along the way from
behind bushes, fences, and buildings, suffering severe loss.
The American loss was much less.

The affair is thus described, in a letter written at the tim»,

by a lady of Cambridge:

o*a diascsatg ci agesates dannii aii OEE sear =
s Le g Lip g oe Sol Plo, ee

LLL LT

 

 

 

30 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

‘¢ Nor will old time ever erase the horrors of that midnight
ery, preceding the bloody massacre at Lexington, when we
were roused from the benign slumbers of the season, by beat
of drum and ringing of bells, with the dire alarm that a thou-
sand of the troops of George the Third had gone forth to
murder the peaceful inhabitants of the surrounding villages.
A few hours, with the dawning day, convinced us the bloody
purpose was executing ; the platoon firing assuring us the
rising sun must witness the bloody carnage. Not knowing
what the event would be at Cambridge, at the return of these
bloody ruffians, and seeing another brigade dispatched to the
assistance of the former, looking with the ferocity of barba-
rians, it seemed necessary to retire to some place of safety, till
the calamity was passed. After dinner we set out, not know-
ing whither we went. We were directed to a place called
Fresh Pond, about a mile from the town; but what a dis-
tressed house did we find it, filled with women whose husbands
had gone forth to meet the assailants, seventy or eighty of
these (with numberless infant children,) weeping and agoniz-
ing for the fate of their husbands! In addition to this scene
of distress, we were for some time in sight of the battle; the
glittering instruments of death proclaiming by an incessant
[fire] that much blood must be shed ; that many widowed and
orphaned ones [must] be left as monuments of British barba-
rity. Another uncomfortable night we passed ; some nodding
in their chairs, some resting their weary limbs on the floor.
The welcome harbingers of day gave notice of its dawning

Kght. [It] bringsno news It is unsafe ta return to Cam-CHAPTER III. 3]

bridge, as the enemy were advancing up the river, and fixing
on the town to stay in.

‘‘ Thus with precipitancy we were driven to the town of
Anderson, followmg some of our acquaintance—five of us to
be conveyed with one poor tired horse and chaise; thus we
began our pilgrimage, alternately walking and riding, the
roads filled with frighted women and children ; some in carts
with their tattered furniture, others on foot fleeing into the
woods. But what added greatly to the horrors of the scene,
was our passing through the bloody field at Monotong, which
was strewed with the mangled bodies. We met one affec-
tionate father with a cart, looking for his murdered son, and
picking up his neighbors who had fallen in battle, in order
for their burial.”

Intelligence of this event spread rapidly through Massachu-
setts and the adjoining provinces, and everywhere the militia
of the country took up arms, and hastened to the scene of
action. Col. Prescott, the grandfather of the American his-
torian, heard the news at Pepperell about nine o’clock the
same morning, and immediately gave orders to his companics
in Pepperell and Hollis, to march: to Groton, proceeding
thence to Concord and Cambridge. Rumors were flying
abroad that the regulars were approaching, and frightful
stories of slaughter flew rapidly from place to place, and from
house to house. It is said that a number of women, clothed
in the apparel of their absent husbands, and armed with mus-
kets, pitchforks, and such other weapons as they could find,
collected at the bridge over the Nashau, between Pepperell

and Groton, to arrest any ‘‘ foe to freedom” who might pass.

    
  
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
    
 
 
 

 

  

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32 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

A Capt. Whiting, bearing despatches from Canada to the
British in Boston, was arrested by them, unhorsed and search-
ed, and sent prisoner to Oliver Prescott of Groton.

Matthew Bucll, a farmer of Connecticut, was plowing in
the field when news came that blood had been shed; he in
stantly unyoked his cattle, and leaving his plow standing in
the furrow, repaired to the house to take leave of his wife and
family. Putnam, who was also at work in the field, did the
same, starting for Cambridge without waiting to change his
apparel. Stark was sawing pine logs without his coat; he
shut down the gate of his mill, and commenced the journey to
Boston in his shirt sleeves. The same spirit prevailed far and
near. In New York, the mechanics of the city had a pro-
cession, and having deposited their tools in a large coffin
made for the purpose, marched to the solemn music of a
funeral dirge, and buried the coffin in Potter’s Field, returning
to present themselves, each with musket in hand, in readi-
ness for military service.

The volunteers waited not to be supplied with arms, but
seizing on whatever rude weapons were at hand, hastened
away to fight for home and liberty. The women, lacking not
their share of patriotic zeal, were active in preparations to
encourage, assist, and sustain them. One, the wife of Capt
Draper, living on a farm at Dedham, Massachusetts, exhorted
her husband to lose no time in hastening to the scene of ac-
tion, and with her own hands bound knapsack and blanket on
the shoulders of her only son, a stripling of sixteen, bidding
him depart and do his duty. To the entreaties of her daugh-

ter that her young brother might remain at home to be theirCHAPTER III. 33

protector, she answered that every arm able to aid the cause
belonged to the country. “He is wanted, and must 20
You and IJ, Kate, have also service to do. Food must be
prepared for the hungry; for before to-morrow night, hun-
dreds, [ hope thousands, will be on their way to join the can-
tinental forces. Some who have travelled far will need re-
freshment, and you and I, with Molly, must feed as many as
we can.”
This undertaking, though of no small labor, was presently
commenced. Capt. Draper was a thriving farmer; his gra-
naries were well filled, and his wife’s dairy was her special
care and pride. Assisted by her daughter and the domestic,
she spent the whole day and night, and the succeeding day in
baking brown bread. The ovens of that day were not the
small ones now in use, but suited for such an occasion, each
holding bread sufficient to supply a neighborhood. By good
fortune two of these monster ovens appertained to the estab-
lishment ; these were soon in full blast, and the kneading
trough was plied by busy hands. At that time of hurry and
confusion none could stop long enough to dine. The people
were under the influence of strong excitement, and all were
in such haste to join the army, that they stayed only to relieve
the cravings of hunger, though from want of food, and faticue,
many were almost exhausted. With the help of a disabled
veteran of the French war, who had for years resided in her
family, Mrs. Draper had soon her stores in readiness. A Jone
form was erected by the road-side ; large pans of bread and
cheese were placed upon it, and replenished as often as wag

é 5 Sir ee ° ¢ ° = ] a
pecessary ; while old John brought cider in pails from the
o*cereal gap eee

ee LE Oe — ae .
SL, ig pasate aies aan eae aN bE EEE

 

34 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

cellar, which, poured into tubs, was served out by two lads
who volunteered their services. Thus were the weary patriots
refreshed on their way. Mrs. Draper presided at the enter-
tainment, and when her own stock of provisions began to
fail, applied to her neighbors for aid By their contributions
her hospitable board was supplied, till im a few days the ne-
cessity for extraordinary exertion had in a measure passed.
When each soldier carried his rations, the calls on private be-
nevolence were less imperative.

Another anecdote will show the spirit that was abroad.
On the morning after the battle of Lexington, a company of
nearly a hundred halted before the house of Col. Pond of
West Dedham. They had marched all night, and were cov-
ered with dust, and faint from fatigue and want of food.
Their haste was urgent, and the mistress of the house, whose

hospitality they claimed, was unprepared for the entertain-

ment of so large a party. Her husband was absent, and she

had only one female assistant and a hired man. But the wil-
ling heart can do wonders. In a few minutes she had a large
brass kettle, holding ten pails full, over the fire, filled with
water and Indian meal for hasty pudding. In the barn-yard
were ten cows ready to contribute their share to the morning
meal. Near the farm-house was a store well supplied with
brown earthen dishes, and pewter spoons tied in dozens for
sale. The military guests volunteered their aid. Some milk-
ed the cows, others stirred the pudding; while the two do-
mestics collected all the milk in the neighborhood. Thus, in
the short space of an hour, by the energetic efforts of one

kind-hearted woman, a hundred weary, hungry soldiers wereCHAPTER III. ao

provided with refreshment.

place of their destination.

They ate, and marched on to the

In a few days a large army was thus collected, and the
British forces in Boston were closely environed.
Other portions of the country sympathized in the genera]

movement. Associations were formed to Support any mea-
sures that should be recommended by the Continental Con-
gress to oppose the execution of the arbitrary acts of Parlia-
ment. Arms found in the possession of persons who had not

signed the Association were impressed for the use of the

Continental troops. In distant colonics the same feeling was
exhibited. The Southern women formed themselyes into
associations renouncing the use of teas and imported luxuries,
and engaging to card, spin, and weave their own clothing.
In Mecklenburg and Rowan counties, North Carolina, young
ladies of the most respectable families, pledged themselves not
to receive the addresses of any suitors who would not obey
the country’s call for military service.

It was in Mecklenburg County that the idea of National Inde-
pendence was first proclaimed to the world. A large concourse
of people was assembled in the frontier settlement of Charlotte,
on the 19th of May, 1775, agitated with the excitement which
had plunged the whole land into commotion. On that day
came the first intelligence of the commencement of hostilities at
Lexington, and when the convention and the people were
addressed, the universal ery was—“ Let us be independent !
Let us declare our independence, and defend it with our lives
and fortunes!” Dr. Brevard drew up resolutions, unani-

mously adopted on tha following day by the convention andSate = es

 

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36 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

the approving multitude, by which the citizens of Mecklen
burg declared themselves a free and independent people.

The Americans next took the important fortresses of Ticon.
deroga and Crown Point, which commanded the entrance inte
Canada. The British troops were reinforced by troops frou:
England under Generals Howe, Clinton and Burgoyne, and
Gen. Gage issued his proclamation, declaring those rebels
who were in arms, and offering pardon to all who would re-
turn to their allegiance, except Samuel Adams and John
Hancock. Congress again met in Philadelphia in May, and
issued a large amount of bills of credit, to defray the ex-
penses of the war. They again addressed the King and people
of Britain, and published to the world the reasons of their
appeal to arms. On the 15th of June they elected Grorce
Wasnincron Commander-in-Chief of the army of the United
Colonies. He accepted the appointment, and set out at ones,
accompanied by the best citizens of the liberal party, to enter
on his duties at Cambridge.

The memorable battle of Bunker’s Hill was fought on the
17th of June. Col. Prescott took the most conspicuous and
efficient part in this action, the moral effect of which was
favorable to the American cause, though the Continental

troops, their ammunition failing, were obliged to retreat.
Among the killed was Gen. Joseph Warren. While the bat-
tle was going on, @ young lady in Boston, by whose house
of the wounded brought from the field of action were

many
freshing beverage, and standing at her

carried, mixed a re
door with a female domestic, offered it to the sufferers. Some
of the British, supposing her a loyalist, expressed their gra-CHAPTER III. oF

titude for the relief by telling her how her countrymen had
been beaten. One young officer said: ‘+ Never mind, my
brave young lady, we have peppered them well !” thus wound-
ing her feelings while she was showinz compassion for his.
While the British troops advanced to the attack, Gen. Gage
had ordered the village of Charlestown to be burned. By
the execution of this order multitudes were deprived of their
homes, and that, too, after they had given shelter to the
wounded British soldiers on their return from Concord.

While Boston was blockaded, several of the inhabitants
were obliged to remain in the city. A besieging army without
and an insolent soldiery within, while provisions and fuel were
scarce-——for a long time their sufferings were great. A letter
says :—‘‘ The desk, the pews, and other incumbrances are
taken down in the Old South church to make it convenient
for the accommodation of Gen. Burgoyne’s light horse ;
while the infamous Dr. Morrison reads prayers in the church
in Brattle street to a set of banditti, who, after the rapines,
robberies and devastations of the week, dare, some of them,
to lift up their sacrilegious hands, and bow before the altar of
mercy.”

It should be noticed that there was still a large number of
Americans who favored the royal cause, and joined the Bri-
tish against their countrymen. These were called tories, or
loyalists, while those’of the other party were known by the
name of whigs, or patriots.

The summer of this year may be said to have end-
ed the royal authority in the colonies. Congress planned

an expedition against Canada, and Generals Montgomery
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38 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

and Schuyler commanded the troops sent. St. Johns
and Montreal were sucecssively taken. During the siege
of the first, Col. Ethan Allen, a brave officer in the army,
was captured and sent in chains to England. Gen. Ar-
nold joined Montgomery, and their forees enyironed Que-
bec; but the siege, though prosecuted three weeks, was un-
successful; and in the attempt made to storm the city on the
31st of December, Gen. Montgomery fell beneath its walls.
The Americans, for want of forces, were compelled to retire,

and by the ensuing June, 1776, had evacuated Canada.CHART EH EB: PV.

STATE OF SOCIETY—FEMALE INFLUENCE—EVACUATION OF

 

BOSTON-—ATTEMPT AT THE SOUTH BATTLE OF MOORE’S

CREEK.

Berore the Revolution, the state of society was such as
might have been expected under a monarchical government
The story of the courtship and marriage of Gen. Knox gives
some idea of the aristocratic distinctions then prevalent, and
the embarrassments growing out of them. He moved in an
humble sphere, his energies having been early called into
action by the necessity of supporting his mother and young
brother ; but formed an engagement with the daughter of a
gentleman high in office, and prominent among the aristocra-
ey of the land—Thomas Flucker, Secretary of the Province
of Massachusetts. It was a grief to this proud family when
Miss Flucker was known not only to favor the addresses of
young Knox, but to have espoused his republican opinions.
Both arguments and entreaties were used to dissuade her
from a course which they believed must be destructive to all
her worldly prospects. But when the time arrived for her
decision, she cast her all upon the die that was to decide the

nation’s fate, and pledged herself to the fortunes of a soldier’sre

eae

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AAA OE Ls SA heen Leen

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40 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

wife. Her father believed she had consigned herself to an
unworthy destiny, and predicted that she would suffer in the
troubles that were to come, while her sisters were enjoying
the luxury and station she had unwisely renounced. How
dimly did they discern the future! The proud loyalists who
had borne honors conferred by the British government, were
compelled to fly from their country, forfeiting the wealth they
deemed secure—or inadequately compensated for the sacrifice
after long delay—to die in voluntary exile. The poor and
self-denying patriots, who gave up affluence and ease for their
country’s sake, were rewarded by her lasting gratitude.

It was the habit of Washington, at the close of each cam-
paign, to despatch an aid-de-camp to escort Mrs. Washing-

ton to head-quarters, where shs usually remained till the

)
opening of the succeeding one in the spring. She was accus-
tomed afterwards to say that it had been her fortune to hear
the first cannon at the opening, and the last at the closing, of
all the campaigns of the Revolutionary war. Her arrival in
camp was a noted event ; the plain chariot, with the neat pos-
tillions in their scarlet and white liveries, was always welcomed
with great joy by the army, and brought a cheering influence,
which relieved the general gloom in seasons of disaster and
despondency.

An incident occurred as she passed through Philadelphia,
Noy. 21st, 1775, on her way to Cambridge, which shows the
depressed state of popular feeling on the breaking out of the
war. A ball was in preparation, to be given on the twenty-
fourth, and it was expected that both she and the wife of Coil.

Hancock would grace the entertainment with their presenceCHAPTER Iv. 4]

But from some threats that were thrown out, it was feared
that a commotion would be made, which might result in dis-
turbance of the peace of the city. A large and respectable
committee was held at the Philosophical Hall, called together
for the purpose of considering the propriety of allowing the
ball to be given that evening ; and after mature consideration
it was concluded that no such entertainment should take
place, either then, or during the continuance of those melan-
choly times. A committee was appointed to inform the
managers that they must proceed no further in the prepara-
tions ; and also to wait upon ‘ Lady Washington,’ and request
her not to attend at the assembly to which she had been invit-
ed. The committee acted agreeably to directions ; and reported
that Lady Washington had received them with great polite-
ness, thanked the committee for their kind care and regard in
giving Ler timely notice, and assured them that their senti-
ments on this occasion were perfectly agreeable to her own.
The example of Mrs. Washington was followed by the

wives of many of the g

general officers, who spent the winters
with their husbands, passing the active season of the cam-
paign at home. The wife of Gen. Greene, when the army
went into winter quarters, always set out to join him, sharing
cheerfully the narrow quarters and hard fare of a camp.
The cheerful manners of the ladies enlivened dreary scenes,
dissipating the gloom that might have weighed down many 2
bold heart. Mrs. Greene’s home was at Coventry, a village
of Rhode Island, where her husband had erected a forge, and
built himself what then passed for a princely house on the

banks of one of those small streams that form so beautiful a
D*ae pei ee
SLL 7 ?

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42 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLOTION.

feature in Rhode Island scenery. When the army besieging
Boston was inoculated for the small pox, she gave up her house
for a hospital.

At this period, and throughout the war, the influence and
exertions of women in all parts of the country contributed to
promote a spirit of patriotism. They animated the courage,
and confirmed the self-devotion of those who ventured all in
the common cause. ‘They frowned upon instances of cold-
ness or backwardness, and in the period of deepest gloom,
cheered and urged onward the desponding. They willingly
shared inevitable dangers and privationsy relinquished without
regret prospects of advantage to themselves, and parted with
those they loved better than life, not knowing when they were
to meet again. [tis almost impossible now to appreciate the
vast influence of woman’s patriotism upon the destinies of
the infant republic. We have no means of showing the im-
portant part she bore in maintaining the struggle, and in lay-
ing the foundations on which so mighty and majestic a struc-
ture has arisen. We can only dwell upon individual instances
of magnanimity, fortitude, self-sacrifice and heroism, bearing
the impress of the feeling of Revolutionary days, indicative of
the spirit which animated all, and to which, in its various and
multiform exhibitions, we are not less indebted for national
freedom, than to the swords of the patriots who poured out
their blood.

A. letter written by a lady of Philadelphia to a British offi-
cer in Boston, says: ‘‘ My only brother I have sent to the
camp with my prayers and blessings. I hope he will not dis-

grace me; | am confident he will behave with honor, andCHAPTER: IV.

43

emulate the great examples he has before him; and had I

twenty sons and brothers they should go. I have retrenched

every superfluous expense in my table

not drunk since last Christmas, nor

gown since your defeat at Lexington ;

and family ; tea I have
bought a new cap or

and what I never did

before, have learned to knit, and am now making stockings of

American wool for my servants; and t

his way do I throw in

my mite to the public good. I have the pleasure to assure

you that these are the sentiments of all my sister Americans.

Ihey have sacrificed assemblies, parties of pleasure, tea-

drinking and finery, to that great spirit of patriotism that ac-

tuates all degrees of people throughout this extensive conti-

rent.”
The patriotic sacrifices of the women

enthusiasm. Some gave their own pr

were made with a deep

operty, and went from

house to house to solicit contributions for the army. Colors

were embroidered by fair hands, and presented with the

charge never to desert them, and arms
provided with the same liberal zeal.

fruit of their industry and economy, a

and ammunition were
The needy shared the

nd their firmness and

intrepidity supplied every persuasive that could animate to

perseverance and secure fidelity. A lady in Ulster County,

New York, studied medicine that she might he qualified, while

the physicians were absent with the ar

poor families in the country around her.

‘my, to attend to the

When, after the battle of Bunker Hill, Gen. Washington

called on the inhabitants of the country

to send to head-quar-

ters every ounce of pewter or lead at their disposal, few with-

held their portion, and the weights of clocks and window-

 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 

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44 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

 

sashes, as well as cups and dishes, were melted down and sent
as willing offerings. At this time the more precious metals
had not found their way to the tables of New Englanders,
and throughout the country services of pewter, scoured to the
brightness of silver, covered the board, even in the mansions
of the wealthy. Some who had moulds for casting bullets
melted all their platters, pans and dishes into balls.

When the approach of winter this year brought fears that
the resources of the country would hardly yield supplies for
the pressing wants of the army, the women were active in
benevolent efforts. The supply of domestic cloth, designed
for families, was in a short time converted by the labor of the
females into coats for the soldiers; sheets and blankets were
fashioned into shirts; and even the flannel already made up
was altered into men’s habiliments. Such aid was rendered
by many whose deeds of disinterested generosity were never
known beyond their own immediate neighborhood!

In March, 1776, Washington executed a plan for driving
the British from Boston. He built fortifications on Dorches-
ter heights, which commanded the city and harbor. Gen.
Howe’s troops and shipping being exposed to the fire of the
batteries, on the 17th the royal forces evacuated the town
and sailed for Halifax. The Americans entered in triumph,
with drums beating and colors flying, and were welcomed with
joy by the citizens, who for ten months had endured the
severest privations. All necessary articles of food had risen
to enormous prices. Vegetables were not to be procured ; and
it was so difficult to obtain wood that the pews and benches were

taken out of churches, and houses were pulled down for fuel.CHAPTER: IV, 4?

The popularity of the whig cause meanwhile increased
throughout the country. Volunteer troops had been raised,
and money in large quantities had been sent from Philadel-
phia for the relief of the sufferers in New England. In Suf-
folk County, Long Island, at the first outbreak of rebellion
the people assembled in almost every town, and voted resolu-
tions of aid and sympathy for their brethren. When the
militia was organized, such as were royalists, or from pruden-
tial considerations wished to remain neutral, refused to train,
and secreted themselves. Many repaired to the recesses of
swamps, and several expeditions were set on foot to drive
them thence

General Washington suspected that New York would be
the next point of attack, and leaving Boston ina state of de-
fence, moved with the main body of his army towards that
city, arriving early in April. Sir Henry Clinton, with the
British fleet, sailed south, his plan being to attack Charleston.
Having been joined at Cape Fear River by Sir Peter Parker,
with a large squadron from Hurope, in June he advanced
against Fort Moultrie on Sullivan’s Island, which commanded
the channel leading to Charleston. The British were repulsed
in this attack, the enterprise was abandoned, and the fleet
shortly after sailed for New York. On the third day after the
battle, which took place on the 28th, the wife of Col. Barnard
Elliott presented to the second regiment, commanded by Col.
Moultrie, a pair of richly embroidered colors, wrought by her-
self. They were planted, three years afterwards, on the
British lines at Savannah, by Sergeant Jasper, who in plant-

ing them received his death-wound.i LOE Tet EE TEER

 

 

46 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

Shortly before these events, North Carolina had been the
theatre of tumult. The colonial governor, Martin, in Feb-
ruary, 1776, collected the Highland emigrants, under Gen
McDonald, with a large number of rough backwoodsmen.
He expected to be joined by regular troops from England,
under Lord Cornwallis, who were to land at Wilmington. The
patriots of Newbern and Wilmington Districts, on their part,
were not idle. Col. Richard Caswell called his neighbors
hastily together ; the county rose in mass, and scarce a man
was left in the Neuse region. The united regiments of Colo-
nels Lillington and Caswell encountered Gen. McDonald at
Moore’s Creek. On the 27th of February the battle—one of
the bloodiest of the Revolution—was fought, and proved dis-
astrous to the royal forces. The unhappy Gen. McDonald,
who had been prevented by illness from commanding his
troops in the engagement, was found, when it was over, sitting
alone on a stump near his tent. As the victorious American
officers advanced towards him, he waved in the air the parch-
ment scroll of his commission, and surrendered it into their
hands.

Flora McDonald, the celebrated Scottish heroine, who
saved the life of ‘‘ the Pretender,” Prince Charles Edward,
after the battle of Culloden, was living among the Highlanders
at, Cross Creek-—now Fayetteville—at this time, and it is said
went among the soldiers, animating their courage, when on the
ave of their march. An American heroine certainly figured
on the field at Moore’s Creek; the wife of Lieut. Slocumb,
whose home was more than sixty miles distant. After her

husband, with the men of the neighborhood, had gone to theCHAPTER IY. 47
battle, she dreamed of seeing him lying dead on the ground,
and was so much alarmed that she rose in the night, saddled
her horse and rode at full gallop in the direction the troore
had taken. At sunrise she came upon a group of women an]
children, standing and sitting by the roadside, anxious to ob-
tain intelligence. Riding on through a thinly-settled, poor
and swampy country, at about nine in the morning she came
near enough to hear the firing. She dashed on in the direc-
tion of the noise, drew near the battle ground, and saw the
wounded lying under a cluster of trees. There lay a body, in-
deed, wrapped in her husband’s guard-cloak ; but it was an-
other person. Mrs. Slocumb dismounted, gave the wounded
man water, washed his bloody face, and bound up his wound
with leaves; she then dressed the wounds of the others, and
was thus employed when Caswell and her husband came up.

They were, of course, much surprised to see her. She
would not tell them of her dream, but thought her visit had
been a fortunate one for those who needed nursing. She in-
terceded for the prisoners, and Caswell told her none should
be hurt but such as had been guilty of murder and house-
burning. In the middle of the night she again muunted and
started for home, declining the offer to send an escort with
her; for she said—‘‘I wanted to see my child, and J told
them they could send no party who. could keep up with me.”
This resolute woman thus rode alone, in the nicht, through a
wild, unsettled country, a distance—going and returning—of
a hundred and twenty-five miles, and that in less than forty
hours, and without any interval of rest! Her husband was

among the brave officers of the Revolution to whom history

 

 

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48 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

ha&’ done no justice. He bore a gallant part in the action at
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| Page 49.

Oe eeeCHAP TER ¥

BECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE—FEMALE SPY—BATTIE
OF LONG ISLAND.

Tue most formidable preparations were made by Great
Britain to carry on the war. By a treaty with German
princes, seventeen thousand German or Hessian troops were
engaged, while additional English troops, with a large fleet,
were ordered to America. The colonies seeing that their
grievances were not likely to be redressed, now began to
abandon the sentiment of loyalty, and desire nothing less than
absolute independence. A committee was instructed by Con-
gress to prepare a declaration in accordance with the object
of a resolution offered on the 7th of June by Richard Henry
Lee, of Virginia. Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin
Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert R. Livingston, formed
the committee. The Declaration of Independence was drawn
up by Jefferson, and on the 4th of July, 1776, was adopted
by the delegates of all the thirteen colonies. They thus de-
clared themselves free and independent, assuming the name of
the Unirep States or AMERICA.

The Declaration was received with every demonstration of

public rejoicing. It was read in public from the platform of
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50 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

an observatory in the rear of the State House. On the same
day a brilliant féte was given in honor of the nation’s birth,
on board the frigate Washington in the Delaware, the fes-
tivities terminating with a ball in the evening. The Decla-
ration was read at the head of each brigade of the Continen-
tal army stationed at New York, and received with joyful
huzzas. On the same day all the imprisoned debtors were
released. In the evening the equestrian status of George
slI., raised in the Bowling Green in 1770, was thrown ‘down
It was determined that the lead of which it was composed
should be run into bullets. On the 10th of July it was
read in the Court House at White Plains by order of the
convention, then in session. The King’s coat of arms was
brought from the hall where his courts were held, and burned
amid the acclamations of the multitude.

Meanwhile General Sir William Howe, who had sailed from
Halifax, arrived at Sandy Hook, June 25th, and soon after
took possession of Staten Island. Joined by his brother, Ad
miral Lord Howe, and the repulsed forces of Clinton from
the south, he was at the head of a large army of the best
troops of Europe. His design was to seize New York, keep
possession of the Hudson, open a communication with Canada,
eut off the Eastern from the Middle States, and have the ad-
jacent country wholly in his power. The American forces,
on the other hand, were composed of undisciplined militia—
and many were unprovided with arms. Lord Howe made an
attempt at negotiation, and sent a letter, with that view, di-
rected to “‘ George Washington, Esq.”? Washington refused

to receive a letter not addressed to him in his public capacityCHAPTER V. iy]

saying that asa private individual he could hold no inter-
course with the enemies of his country. A further attempt at
accommodation failing—the British generals resolved to lose
no time in prosecuting the war.

We have a picture of female occupation in an American
oilicer’s family, in a journal of the daughter of Major Mon-
crieffe, of the British engineers. She was boarding at Eliza-
bethtown, New Jersey, when the appearance of Gen. Howe
at Staten Island compelled the inhabitants to seek refuge in
the interior. Having been frightened afterwards by a party
of riflemen, she appealed to Gen. Putnam. He answered by
a kind invitation to his house, and sent one of his aids to con-
duct her to New York: ‘¢ When I arrived in the Broadway,”
she says, “‘ I was received with the greatest tenderness both by
Mrs. Putnam and her daughters, and on the following day
was introduced by them to General and Mrs. Washington,
who likewise made it their study to show me every mark of
regard ; but I seldom was allowed to be alone, although some-
times indeed I found an opportunity to escape to the gallery
on the top of the house,* where my chief delight was to view
with a telescope our fleet and army at Staten Island.

‘¢ My amusements were few ; the good Mrs. Putnam employ-
ed me and her daughters constantly to spin flax for shirts for
the American soldiery ; indolence in America being totally dis-
couraged, One day after dinner, the Congress was the toast.
General Washington viewed me very attentively, and said—
‘ Miss Moncrieffe, you don’t drink your wine.’ Embarrassed

* Many of the gentlemen’s houses in New York had then a gallery,

with a summer house, on the top.Fate anee Nee

eae en nea
PELLET EDEL RELLY LEED

Oe ROO
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CE TOLD

 

  

52 DOMESTIC’ HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

by this reproof, I knew not how to act; at last, as if by a
secret impulse, I addressed myself to the American com-
mander, and taking the wine, I said—‘ General Howe is the
toast.? The whole company censured‘ me; but my good
friend Gen. Putnam, as usual, apologised, and assured them
I did not mean to offend. General Washington then said.
‘Well, Miss, I will overlook your indiscretion, on condition
that you drink my health, or Gen. Putnam’s, the first time
you dine at Sir William Howe’s table, on the other side of
the water.’ ”

Not very long afterwards this young lady played the part
of a spy, during her visit at the house of a Mr. Wood, near
Peckskill. Among the visitors who came to pay their re-
spects to her were frequently a number of young officers of the
American army. Most of these speedily became enslaved to
the charms of Miss Moncrieffe, who entered with apparently
warm interest into the discussions she heard, expressing un-
bounded friendship for the whig cause, and a generous indig-
nation against the oppressors of her native country. The
young officers were enchanted to hear her professions of pa-
triotism, and felt no restraint in conversing with her upon the
state and prospects of the country, the occurrences of the
day, and the plans and movements by which they expected to
circumvent the enemy.

Like many women of that day, she was a capital equestrian.
One morning she took her accustomed ride without any
companion. On passing a farm house, the barking of a dog
that suddenly sprang into the road frightened her horse. The

animal started aside ; she was thrown to the ground, and soCHAPTER V 52

severely stunned as to be entirely insensible. There were no
men about the house to render assistance ; but the women ran
out, lifted her in their arms, carried her in and laid her on a
bed. While they were using means for her restoration, one
of them unbuttoned her vest to allow her to breathe more
freely. A letter dropped out, which was picked up and put
on the table. Jt was not long before she began to recover
consciousness ; meanwhile the man who lived in the farm
house happened to come in, and was informed of the accident.
In a few minutes Miss Moncrieffe was fully restored to hei
senses. Suddenly starting and seizing the open flaps of ber
vest, she sprang up, and asked for the letter, in tones that be-
trayed the utmost agitation and alarm. One of the women
took it up, and was about to hand it to her quietly, when the
man, suspecting from her strange behavior that something
was wrong, started forward and seized it. Perceiving that
the letter was directed to New York, he refused to give it up,
feeling convinced that there was more in the affair than she
was willing to admit. There was no resource for the young
lady but to adjust her dress and ride back to Mr. Wood’s
house. She immediately commenced preparations for return-
ing to the city. But before she could get ready to start, in-
formation of her proceedings had been carried to the proper
quarter; a party of soldiers rode up and entered the house ;
the officer announced to Miss Moncrieffe that she was their
prisoner, and she was conveyed under their escort across the
river to a public house, where a guard was placed over her.
It was ascertained that the letter in question contained in-

formation respecting some intended movement of the Conti-
E*a ar ae ee ean

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CPL IGLOS OLDE DIL AOE Ag

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54 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

   

nental forces. It came out upon examination that the young
lady had been in the habit of sending her British friends the
information she obtained from the young officers, who, not sus-
pecting any sinister motive in the interest she evinced, con-
fided their plans to her. When she wrote a letter, she con-
ceaicd it beneath her yest, and in her solitary rides contrived
to drop the missive in a certain spot by the road-side. A
man who waited, hid among the bushes, came out directly,
cautiously picked up the letter, and conveyed it to another
secret agent some distance down the river, by whom it was
safely forwarded to its destination. All this was brought to
light by the confession of the man himself. He had a family
in the neighborhood, and fearing discovery of his agency,
judged it most prudent to throw himself on the mercy of the
Americans by a voluntary confession, hoping to be let off as a
reward for his evidence against Miss Moncrieffe. He was
kept a long time in custody, but there is no reason to believe
he ever received any other punishment.

The baggage of Miss Moncrieffe was examined, and several
papers relating to military affairs were found in her trunks.
While she remained a prisoner, some of the British officers
appealed to the Americans in her behalf. Her countrymen
were by no means disposed to deal harshly with a youth-
ful female, especially one so beautiful, accomplished and
highly connected, and it was finally decided to give her up to
her friends. The crime for which a man would have suffered
on the gibbet was pardoned to one of her sex and age, and

she was escorted toa place agreed upon, adjoining the BritishCHAPTER V

lines, where she was delivered into the charge of those who
undertook to conduct her in safety to her father.

This curious story, related by a person who lived in Mr.
Wood’s house at the time, is confirmed by a letter from a
British officer, preserved in the London Universal Maga-
zine. The woman who so early showed herself an adept in
deception, ended her career in England in poverty and dis-
grace.

The vicinity of the royal fleet to New York alarmed the
inhabitants, and many removed from the city. The British
landed on the south-western shore of Long Island, August
22d, divided their army into three divisions, and commenced
a circuitous march to the American camp at Brooklyn. The
battle took place on the 27th of August. The Americans
were defeated with severe loss, and their strength was still
further impaired by the discouragement that ensued. The
day following, Gen. Woodhull, President of the Convention
of the State of New York, was captured at Jamaica, and
barbarously treated by a British scouting party, under Capt
Oliver Delancey. When he was brought, wounded and bleed-
ing, to Mrs. Hinchman’s inn, and laid on her best bed, he beg-
ged her not to leave him alone with his enemies. ‘' Don’t be
alarmed, General,” said the patriotic hostess, “ I shall not
leave you; I don’t expect to go to bed to-night.” The next
morning Woodhull, with his head and arm bandaged, was
taken westward and left under the horse-shed, with a guard,
at Howard’s inn. The landlady went out, and invited the
weak and fainting General to partake of some refreshment.

‘ ta :
She then gave him some bread and butter, smoked beef, and56 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

wine sangaree. When the guard asked if she had nothing for
them, she replied, “I give to prisoners, you can Juy.% The
General was next conducted to a prison-ship, and as his
neglected wounds grew worse, he was removed to a Lospita
at New Utrecht, whither his wife hastened, but reached hi
bedside only in time to receive his parting sigh. She dis
tributed the wagon-load of provisions she had brought, among
the suffering, starving American prisoners, and had the melan-
| choly consolation of conveying his remains to a private ceme-
i tery on his farm, at Mastic.
On the night of the 29th, Washington secretly withdrew
his troops from Brooklyn to New York. This retreat of the

defeated Americans had well nich been frustrated by the vigi-

 

| lance of a female tory—Mrs. Rapalje—who lived at Brooklyn
ferry. She suspected what was going on, and sent her negro
slave to inform the British General of the intended movement.
i i The negro fell in with a Hessian guard, who could not under-
stand the importance of his errand, and detained him until
the next morning. He arrived, in consequence, at head-
pi! quarters just in time to be too late; the American army,
ie with nearly all their baggage, was safely across the river. This
lady had been irritated against the whigs, by the conduct of
ii l some of the lawless militia, who had lodged a cannon ball in
ia } her wall, a few feet over her tea-table, to show their disappro-
bation of her drinking the prohibited tea.

After the battle of Long Island, the Americans, finding the

et British slowly enclosing New York on all sides, withdrew from

este Ate aE EEE

He | the city, and removed their stores far up on the shore of the

ee

Hudson. Gen. Putnam, with his troops, was the last to leaveCHAPTER V. 57

New York. To avoid any parties of the enemy that might
be advancing towards it, he made choice of a road along the
river, from which, at a certain point, another road would con-
duct him in a direction to join the main army. It happened
that a force of British and Hessians more than twice as large
as his own, was advancing on the road at the same time, and
but for a fortunate occurrence, would have encountered his
before he could have reached the turn into the other road.
In ignorance that the enemy was before them, the British
officers halted their troops, and stopped at a small country
seat belonging to Robert Murray, a Quaker. Mrs. Murray,
by means of refreshments, and her agreeable conversation,
beguiled them to stay a couple of hours—Gov. Tryon jesting
with her occasionally about her American friends. She might
have turned the laugh upon him ; for one half hour, it is said,
would have enabled the British to secure the road at the turn,
and cut off Putnam’s retreat. The opportunity was lost;
and it became a common saying among the officers, that Mrs.

Murray had saved this part of the American army.CANIM MAKE

Seale nee ee ea ae ee

ee

Doe

SSS

 

 

  

CHAPTER Vd

OCCUPATION OF NEW YORK-—-STATE OF THE COUNTRY—
RETREAT THROUGH NEW JERSEY—AMERICAN SUCCESSES,

Tue British took possession of New York without oppo-
sition. Gen. Howe left troops in the city, and advanced
northward with his main force, endeavoring to gain the rear
of the American army, and cut off their communication with
the Hastern States. The movement of the two armies was
marked by devastation of the country through which they
passed. The Hessians were the peculiar terror of the de-
fenceless people. The wife of Capt. Whetten, who had re-
moved his family from New York to New Rochelle, one day
observed that black colors were hoisted in a field near her
house, and asked a British officer what it meant. ‘‘ Heaven
help you, madam,” was the reply ; “‘ a Hessian camp is to be
set up there.” It turned out better, however, than was an-
‘icipated. A good feeling was speedily established between
her and the Hessians, who came almost daily to the house ;
for her acquaintance with the low Dutch dialect, then fami-
liarly spoken in many families in New York, enabled her to
converse readily with them. In consequence of this partiality,

her house was exempted from depredations to which many ofCHAPTER VI. 59

her neighbors were subjected, and she was sometimes enabled
to save their property from destruction.

At one time, when the village was laid waste, the house of
Capt. Whetten escaped destruction, being protected by a guard
set by a Hessian officer, at that time quartered in it. Mrs.
Whetten, however, not trusting entirely to the enemy’s favor,
had sent away several articles of value for concealment. A fa-
mily near them, compelled to fly and leave a dying father in their
house, entreated her to take care of the helpless invalid, and,
if possible, save their property from the rapacious soldiers.
The sacred trust was accepted and fulfilled, but she was not
able to protect all the articles left by the fugitives. An iron
chest that stood in the piazza, was plundered while the old
man was expiring, and while her cares and those of her daugh-
ters were in requisition for him, The following evening, Mrs.
Whetten requested her daughters to go some distance, to the
place were her store had been deposited, for clean sheets to
furnish a bed for the Hessian officer. The young girls object-
ed, expressing their opinion—for they supposed that the
officer, who was prescnt, could not understand English—that
what they had was good enough for their unwelcome guest.

The discussion, after being continued some time, was ended

 

by the officer’s saying—to the no small consternation of the

 

ladies—‘ Do not trouble yourself, madam ; straw is a good
enough bed for a soldier.” It may be conjectured that there
was no further delay in procuring the shects.

But the family was not always so much favored as to be ex-
empted from aggression. On one occasion, after having

plundered the house of her mother, heaped her china toge-ey eso

ie ie ed ames ate EEE

 

 

ei

 

 

    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
   
  
  
   
  
 
   

60 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

ther and broken it in one crash, the Hessians came to Mrs.
Whetten’s to finish their work. They snatched a handkerchief
from the neck of her daughter, for the purpose of tying up

. various articles they had found about the house. An officer

soon entered, however, and called them off. At another time,
when soldiers were robbing the house, a British officer inter-
posed, beating off his men with his own sword.

One night, after the family had retired, Mrs. Whetten was
awakened by a noise, and called her husband, supposing some
of the Americans had come to the village for provisions. The
captain rose, and going to open the door, was assailed by
oaths and cries from soldiers demanding entrance. The in-
truders spread themselves through the house to seize whatever
plunder they might find. Several came into the chamber of
Mrs. Whetten, who was keeping guard over her infant lying
asleep on a pillow. They rudely snatched the pillow, throw-
ing off the child on the floor, and demanded money. The
mother had put her purse in one of her pockets, and hid it
under the bolster. One of the robbers snatched a pocket
from under the pillow, which she strove to get away from him.
Presently, perceiving the man had not taken the pocket con-
taining her purse, and, that the one in his possession held
only her snuff-box, she relinquished it after some further show
of resistance. The soldier bore away his prize, while she
took care to secrete her treasure.

The scarcity of provisions caused great suffering among the
inhabitants of the village, supplies that might reach the con-
tinental troops being intercepted by the enemy. The little

the people had was often taken from them. At one time aCHAPTER VI. 61

resident sent word to his neighbors that they could have some
milk, as he had been lucky enough to procure a cow. By the
next morning nothing was left of the cow but the head and
skin—the Hessians having landed and left the usual tokens of
their presence. The cattle taken were often slaughtered in
the most wasteful manner—butchered, perhaps, on the road,
the best parts being cut out, while the rest was left, a fire
kindled with rails from the fence, and the meat cooked in a
row of camp-kettles by the roadside.

Such things were common; but they did not crush the
spirit of patriotism. One mother in New Rochelle, after
melting all the pewter she had into bullets for her two sons,
sent them forth to join the continental army. As she stood
in the door to bid them farewell, one turned back, saying he
had no gun ; but she bade him go on, for he would find a gun
to spare in the army. When she had lost sight of both, she
went back, weeping, into the house, to pray for their safety.
At this time some thirty of the most respectable ladies in East
Haddam, Connecticut, met and husked, in a few hours, about
two hundred and forty bushels of corn. The harvests of
Connecticut and New Jersey had been got in by the women
and old men, while the militia of those States were waiting at
New York and on Long Island, for the landing of the enemy.
Their noble example was followed by others whose fathers and
brothers were fighting the battles of the nation.

While portions of the British army were ranging through
Westchester, the peaceful inhabitants were exposed to much
annoyance. One family who left their home for safety, and

returned after a day’s absence, found it a scene of desolati %.reer,

 

 

sin eee oe eee

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62 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION,

Not an article of furniture was left, except a bedstead; a
single glass bottle was the only drinking utensil, and one ham
was all that remained of the provisions ; having, by good for-
tune, been hung in an obscure part of the cellar. At another
ime, in broad day, and in sight of the family, a horse was
prought up with baskets fastened on either side, and a deliber-
ate ransacking of the poultry-yard commenced. The baskets
were presently filled with the fowls, and the turkey-gobbler, a
noisy patriarch, was placed astride the horse, the bridle being
thrown over his head. His uneasiness when the whip was
used, testified by clamorous complaints, made the whole scene
so amusing, that the depredators were allowed to depart with-

out a word of remonstrance. One day, when the British were

in the neighborhood, a soldier entered the house, and walked

unceremoniously towards the closet. The lady asked what he
wanted. ‘Some brandy,” was his reply. When she reproved
him for the intrusion, he presented his bayonet at her breast,
and calling her a rebel, swore he would kill her, but left the
house on her threat of sending information to his officer.

One morning a British captain rode up to a house, and
asked for the mistress. When she appeared, he told her he
was much in want of something to eat. She left the room,
and soon returning, brought a loaf of bread anda knife. This,
she assured him, was all she had, the soldiers of his army hav-
ing taken away everything else. ‘‘ But I will divide this,”
she said: “‘ you shall have one half, and I will keep the other
for my family.” ‘This magnanimity so struck the officer, that

he thanked her cordially, and requested her to let him knowCHAPTER VI. 63

if in future any of his men ventured to annoy her, promising
that the offence should not be repeated.

The action at White Plains took place on the 28th of Oc-
tober. The British general, discontinuing his pursuit, then
directed his attention to the American posts on the Hudson,
with the apparent design of penetrating into New Jersey.
Fort Washington and Fort Lee were successively taken, and
other reverses befel the Americans. The army of General
Washington then retreated across New Jersey before the pur-
suing enemy for nearly three weeks, and finally across the
Delaware into Pennsylvania. This retreat was, indeed, “ the
darkest hour of the Revolution.” The American forces,
crippled and disheartened by misfortune, diminished daily, till
but a bare remnant remained. They were exposed during the
inclement November weather in an open country, without
tools or camp equipage, and almost destitute of clothes, blan-
kets, shoes, or provisions. So close was the pursuit, that the
rear of the army was often in sight of the van of the British,
who, in their triumphant march, took possession successively
of Newark, New Brunswick, Princeton and Trenton, and early
in December found the Delaware the only barrier between
them and Philadelphia.

On this march through New Jersey, the beautiful residence
of Richard Stockton, at Princeton, was directly in the route
of the British army. Warned of the approach of the victo-
rious invaders, he had barely time to remove his wife and
family to a place of safety. His eldest son, Richard, then a
boy twelve years of age, with an old family servant, remained

in the house, while everything was left to the mercy of theie eee re
RAI ee AT EET EERE c
7 - a a AM AIA GFL Df fd Afr phi

Wale CE.

 

 

 

624 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

enemy. The house was pillaged, the horses and stock were
driven away, and the estate was laid waste. The furniture
was converted into firewood; the old wine, stored in the cel-
lar, was drunk up, and the valuable library, with all the papers
of Mr. Stockton, committed to the flames. The plate, and
other valuable articles belonging to the family, had been
packed in three boxes and buried in the woods, at some dis-
tance from the mansion. Through treachery, the place of
concealment was discovered by the soldiers, and two of the
boxes were disinterred and rifled of their rich contents. As
there were no banks for keeping money, every one at that time
took eare of his own. It was usual to bury money as well as
plate ; to conceal it under stones, or in the sand at the bottom
of springs of water ; to thrust it behind joists, or between the
roof and rafters; lay it under the hearth, put it in teakettles,
or secrete it in any way ingenuity could devise. Sometimes
these treasures were forgotten or left by the owners, and it
was not unusual, years afterwards, to find money on tearing
down old houses, removing fences, or digging in cellars.

On the same day that Washington was driven across the
Delaware, the British took possession of Rhode Island. They
now held in their power New York and New Jersey, and it
was the general expectation that they would cross the Dela-
ware as soon as the ice was firm, and take possession of the
capital. Congress adjourned to Baltimore, and many of the
‘nhabitants of Philadelphia sought refuge in the country, at no
great distance from the edge of the Pines.

We, contented citizens of a peaceful land, can form but a

faint conception of the horrors and desolation of those ancientCHAPTER VI. 65

times of trial, The terrors of invasion are things which now-
adays imagination can scarcely compass; but then, it was
rugged reality. The unbridled passions of a mercenary sol-
diery, compounded not only of the brutal element that forms
the vigor of every army, but of the ferocity of Hessians, hired
and instigated to violence and cruelty, were let loose on the
land. The German troops, as if to inspire especial terror,
had been sent in advance, occupying, in December, a chain of
posts extending from Trenton to Mount Holly—Rhal com-

while Gen. Howe

 

manding at the first, and Donop at the other
and his main army were rapidly advancing by the great route
to the Delaware. On the other hand, the river was filled with
American gondolas, whose crews, landing from time to time
on the Jersey shore, by their lawlessness and threats of re-
taliation, kept the peaceful inhabitants in constant alarm.
The continental army, meanwhile, if it deserved the name, was
literally scattered along the right bank of the Delaware.
Family tradition has described the anxious hours passed by
one sorrowing group of women and children at a little farm-
house near Evesham—the family of Gen. Reed. Their only
male attendant was a boy of fourteen, and the wagon was kept
ready to be driven by him. In case of a sudden advance of the
British, which would cut them off from the ordinary avenues
of escape, their plan was formed to cross the river near
Salem, and push on to the westward settlements. The wives
and children of American patriot soldiers thought themselves
safer on the perilous edge of an Indian wilderness, than in the

neighborhood of the soldiers who, commanded by noblemen—

liers,” for such, according to all

by ‘“ men of honor and cava
fCe eee

NR eg AeA =

Se ae ae

 

 

 

 

66 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

heraldry, were the Howes and Cornwallises, the Percies ana
9 3

4

 

Rawdons of that day—were sent by a ‘‘ gracious monarch”? to
y J g

lay waste this land. The British campaigning of our Revolu-
tion—and no part of it more so than this—is the darkest
among the dark stains that disfigure the history of the
eighteenth century. There was, in the one colony of New
Jersey, and in this single year, blood enough shed, and misery
enough produced, to give a sanguinary character to the whole
war.

The following extract from the private journal of a lady
who lived at Burlington, New Jersey, shows something of the
condition of that part of the country:

Dec. 16th, 1776.

* About noon this day, a terrible account of thousands

coming into town. My incautious son caught up the spy-

vlass, and was running towards the mill to look at them. He
returned much dissatisfied, for no troops could he see. As
he came back, poor Dick took the glass, and resting it
against a tree, took a view of the fleet. The people on board
suspected it was an enemy who was watching their motions.

A loud knock-

I was a little fluttered. and

They manned a boat and sent her on shore.
ing at my door brought me to it.
kept locking and unlocking that I might get my ruffled face a
little composed. At last I opened it, and half a dozen men
all armed, demanded the key of the empty house. I asked
what they wanted there ; they replied—‘ to search for a tory
who had been spying at them from the mill.?

“The name of a tory, so near my own door, seriously

alarmed me: for a poor refugee, dignified by that name, hadCHAPTER VI. 67

claimed the shelter of my roof, and was at that very time
concealed. I rang the bell violently—the signal agreed upon
if they came to search ; and when I thought he had crept into
the hole, I put on a very simple look and exclaimed— Bless
me! I hope you are not Hessians!’ ‘ Do we look like Hes-
9

sians ?? asked one, rudely. ‘ Indeed, I don’t know.’ ‘ Did

you never see a Hessian ‘No—never in my life; but they
are men ; and you are men; and may be Hessians for aucht I

know! But I’ll go with you into Col. Cox’s house ;

> thouch

indeed it was my son at the mill; he is but a boy, and meant
no harm ; he wanted to see the troops.’

‘‘ So I marched at the head of them, opened the door and
searched every place; but we could not find the tory. We
returned—they greatly disappointed; I pleased to think’ my
house was not suspected. They left us and searched James
Verree’s and the two next houses; but no tory could they
find. In the evening I went to town with my refugee, and
placed him in other lodgings. I was told to-day of a design
to seize upon a young man in town, as he was esteemed a tory.
J thought a hint would be kindly received; and as I came
back, called upon a friend of his, and told him. Next day
he was out of reach of the gondolas.”

The journal continues, at a later period:

‘‘ By a person from Bordentown, we hear that twelve ex-
presses came in there to-day from the camp. Some of the
gondola-men and their wives being sick, and no doctor in town
to apply to, they were told Mrs. Morris was a skillful woman,

and kept medicines to give to the poor ; and notwithstanding

 

 

SEO cette caine his ieee: og
a ™

 

 

Pe as68 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

their late attempts to shoot my poor boy, they ventured ta
come to me, and ina very humble manner begged me to come
and do something for them. At first I thought they might
Ati design to put a trick on me, get me aboard their gondola and
then pillage my house, as they had done some others ; but on
asking where the sick folks were, I was told they were lodged
in the Governor’s house. So I went to see them; there
were several, both men and women, very ill with a fever; |
ih treated them according to art, and they all got well. J thought
I had received all my pay when they thankfully acknowledged
my kindness ; but lo! ina short time afterwards a very ill-
looking man came to the door and asked for me. When |
went to him he drew me aside, and asked me if | had any
friends in Philadelphia. The question alarmed me, suppos-

ing there was some mischief meditated against that poor city ,

 

however, I calmly said-‘I have an ancient father, some

sisters, and other near friends there.’

 

al ““¢ Well,’ said the man, ‘do you wish to hear from them,
or send anything by way of refreshment to them? If you
do, I will take charge of it, and bring you back anything you
may send for.’ I was very much surprised, and thought, to
be sure, he only wanted to get provisions to take to the gon-
dolas; but when he told me his wife was one of those TI had
given medicine to, and this was the only thing he could do to
pay me for my kindness, my heart leaped with joy, and I set

about preparing something for my dear absent friends. <A

 

quarter of beef, some veal, fowls and flour, were soon put up.

and about midnight the man salled and put them aboard hi:CHAPTER VI. 69

boat. He left them at the Point—whence my beloved friends
took them to town.

‘* Two nights afterwards, a loud knocking at our front door
greatly alarmed us, and opening the chamber window, we
heard a man’s voice, saying, ‘Come down softly and open
the door, but bring no light.’ There was something myste-
rious in such a call; but we concluded to go down and set
the candle in the kitchen. When we got to the front door we
asked, ‘Who are you?’ The man replied, ‘ A friend ; open
quickly.’ So the door was opened: and who should it be
but our honest gondola-man, with a letter, a bushel of salt, a
jug of molasses, a bag of rice, some tea, coffee and sugar, and
some cloth for coats for my poor boys; all sent by my kind
sisters !

‘© How did our hearts and eyes overflow with love to them,
and thanks to our Heavenly Father, for such seasonable sup-
plies! May we never forget it! Being now so rich, we
thought it our duty to hand out a little to the poor around us,
who were mourning for want of salt; so we divided the
bushel, and gave a pint to every poor person who came for
it—having abundance left for our own use.”

In the midst of the universal gloom, when the hopes of the
country were on the verge of utter extinction, a sudden and
unexpected turn was given to affairs. Washington conceived
and executed the daring plan of crossing the Delaware, and
making an attack on the advanced posts of the enemy. He
crossed, accordingly, on the night of December 25th, sur-
prised the Hessians at Trenton by an attack, and took a

thousand prisoners, their commander, Col. Rhal, being killed70 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

| This brilliant success was inspiriting. The battle of Prince-
| ton, fought on the 3d of January, 1777, was also fortunate
for the Americans, and Philadelphia was relieved from
i further alarm.

When news of the passage of the Delaware was brought to
the mother of Washington, she expressed pleasure at the in-
telligence, but disclaimed praise for her son, and listened
calmly to the congratulations of her visitors. She was then

ri residing in the village of Fredericksburg, whither she had
| been removed by Washington before he took the command of
the American army at Cambridge. She remained there dur-
ing nearly the whole period of the Revolution.

One little incident illustrates the spirit of the women at
th this time. A lady of New Jersey, at whose house several
American officers were quartered, occupied herself before the
battle, with other women, in preparing bandages and wrappings

for the use of the soldiers—every article of linen in the house

 

| 1 °
ee a haying been torn up for that purpose. Her husband was
|

absent, but returned just in time to join the troops, only

ee ee ee

stopping at home to change his wearied horse for another
aE As he galloped down the lane leading from the house, he
Bi heard his wife’s voice calling after him, and saw her leaning
a from a window. He turned and rode back to hear her part-

Ne ing words—which were—‘‘ Remember to do your duty! J

mee EE ee

aan would rather hear that you were left a corpse on the field, than

that you had played the part of a coward !”

aD

Gen. Mercer was mortally wounded at the battle of Prince-

ton His death-bed was attended by two females of the So-

eosepitza spt

 

ciety of Friends, who inhabited the house to which he wasCHAPTER VI. el

carried, and refusing to fly during the action, were there when
he was brought wounded and dying to the threshold. The
effect of these American successes was decisive. In a short
time Washington had overrun the northern part of New Jur-
sey, and the people rose in every direction to drive out the

invaders from whose cruelty they had suffered so much.

 

The British army was soon restricted to two posts—New
Brunswick and Amboy. Congress returned to Philadelphia,
and agents were sent to France and other courts to negotiate
for the acknowledgment of American Independence, and for

aid in the struggle.oe eee ee

eee

(i ieataena tie AA EEE ET

EEE,

 

 

CHAPTHR ¥ 2d.

SENTIMENT OF EUROPE

 

WINTER QUARTERS—NEW ATTEMP1
ON PHILADELPHIA—-OCCUPATION—-MARCH OF BURGOYNE
——MURDER OF JANE MCCREA.

Tue powers of Europe had regarded the struggle, so far,
with wonder and sympathy. The novelty of the spectacle of
a new nation suddenly rising up to dispute the possession of
America with proud and powerful Britain—the grandeur of
the idea of an independent empire in the New World—had
awakened universal attention ; and jealousy of England, as well
as respect for the common interests of mankind, caused a
general wish to prevail for the success of the American cause
France was deeply interested in its favor; and the high repu
tation and popularity of Dr. Franklin, who was at the court,
inereased the general enthusiasm. Several gentlemen of rank
and fortune proffered their services. The young Marquis de La
"ayette, having fitted out a vessel at his own expense, arrived
in the spring of 1777, and received from Congress the appoint-
ment of Major-General.

There was a suspension of important operations in both
armies till the latter part of May, varied only by a British
expedition up the Hudson to Peekskill, for the purpose ofCHAETER VII. to

destroying stores; a similar one under Tryon against Dan-
bury, Connecticut, in which the town was burned; and one by
some Connecticut militia against Sag Harbor, on Long Island.
Washington took the opportunity of having his army inoculated
for the small-pox, and went into winter quarters in Morristown.
It was probably while he was at Pluckemin, that Mrs. Washing-
ton arrived. When the carriage stopped, and a female in a plain
russet gown, with white handkerchief neatly folded over her
neck, was seen, the lady whose house was the chief’s head-
quarters, imagined her to be a domestic. But she was unde-
ceived when the General went forward to receive her, assisted

erecting, began to

©

her from the carriage, and, after the first
inquire after his pet horses. A ball was given in honor of the
arrival of ‘‘ Lady Washington,” at which her brave husband
himself condescended to lead a minuet ; it being the first oc-
casion, in a long time, on which he had been known to dance.

The life in camp, with all its privations and trials, was
sometimes pleasant enough, even to the ladies. Mrs. Knox
often remarked that she dived more in one year at this period
of excitement, than in a dozen of ordinary life. Trying as
were some scenes through which patriotic wives were called
to pass, there were times when care was cast aside, and a brief
repose was granted from the fears of war. Yet they knew not
what an hour might bring forth. At one time, when the ladies
remained later than usual in camp on the Hudson, an alarm
was given that the enemy was approaching from New York
The aids-de-camp proposed sending them away under an escort.
But Washington would not consent, saying that their presence

would inspire courage for a brave defence. The night was
4 6

pamtinesinensGee oe Ee

eee

Ven AME CEE

CA RE ei i ae re ea ee ene ere

ee

 

74 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

dark, and the words of command from the officers, the march-
ing of the troops, the dragging of artillery into the yard, and
the noise of removing the windows, the house itself being filled
with soldiers, gave “dreadful note of preparation.”? The
enemy, however, probably finding there was no hope of a sur-
prise, withdrew without coming to blows.

The description given by Chastellux of head-quarters at
Newburgh, may show how plainly the great American chief
was often lodged. ‘‘ They consist of a single house, built in
the Dutch fashion, and neither large nor commodious. The
largest room, converted by Gen. Washington into his diniig-
room, is tolerably spacious; but it has seven doors and oaly
one window. ‘The chimney is against the wall, so that there
is but one vent for the smoke, and the fire is in the room itself
I found the company assembled in a small room, which served
as a parlor. At nine, supper was served ; and when bed-time
came, I found that the chamber to which the General con-
ducted me was the very parlor spoken of, wherein he had
made them place a camp-bed. We assembled at breakfast
the next morning at ten, during which interval my bed was
folded up, and my chamber became the sitting-room for the
whole afternoon. The smallness of the house, and the incon-
venience to which I saw that General and Mrs. Washington
had put themselves to receive me, made me apprehensive Jest
M. Rochambeau might arrive on the same day.”

Another incident, remembered by an aged veteran, exhibits
the kindness of Mrs. Washington towards those in the humblest
sphere. It occurred when she came to spend the cold seasen

with her husband in winter-quarters. There were but twoCHAPTER VII. 75

frame-houses in the settlement, and neither had a finished
upper story. The General was contented with his rough
dwelling, but wished to prepare for his wife a more retired and
comfortable apartment. He sent for the young mechanic, and
desired him and one of his fellow-apprentices to fit up a room
in the upper story for the accommodation of Lady Washington
through the winter. She herself arrived before the work was
commenced. ‘‘ She came,” says the narrator, ‘‘ into the place

and said to

 

—a portly-looking, agreeable woman of forty-five
us: ‘Now, young men, I care for nothing but comfort here ;
and should like you to fit me up a beauffet on one side of the
room, and some shelves and places for hanging clothes on the
other.? We went to work with all our might. Every morn-
ing about eleven Mrs. Washington came up stairs with a glass
of spirits for each of us; and after she and the General had
dined, we were called down to eat at their table. We worked
very hard, nailing smooth boards over the rough and worm-
eaten planks, and stopping the crevices in the walls made by
time and hard usage. Then we consulted together how we
could smooth the uneven floor, and take out, or cover over
some of the huge black knots. We studied to do everything
to please so pleasant a lady, and to make some return, in our
humble way, for the kindness of the General. On the fourth
day, when Mrs. Washington came up to see how we were get-
ting along, we had finished the work, made shelves, put up the
pegs on the wall, built the beauffet, and converted the rough
varret into a comfortable apartment. As she stood looking
round, I said, ‘ Madam, we have endeavored to do the best we

could; I hope we have suited you.’ She replied. smiling, ‘I

    
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

it iii a aee a

ee

EE EEE,

Ne pean ee ce

iter OMIM cE REEL

 

= aati ciation Einstein

 

76 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

am not only satisfied, but highly gratified with what you have
done for my comfort.’ ”’
~ The English Generals, deeply mortified at their discomfiture
in New Jersey, resolved on a new and more elaborate attempt
on Philadelphia, and in July, 1777, set sail, with the most
complete equipment they had yet been able to prepare, for
the capes of the Chesapeake. The army landed near the
head of the Elk, in Maryland, August 28th, and marched to
encounter the continental forces, which were withdrawn across
the Brandywine to make a stand for the defence of the capital.
A little incident that occurred while the Americans were
encamped here, shows the part taken by the ladies. A Mrs.
Biddle chanced to hear that a large British foraging party was
within the distance of a few miles; that orders had been is-
sued for a party to start before day for the purpose of cutting
off their retreat, and that, as an engagement might be expected,
the women were directed to leave the camp. Not willing to
consider herself included in the order, she sent word to General
Washington that as the officers would return hungry and fa-
tigued from the expedition, she would, if allowed to stay, make
provision for their refreshment. He assured her she might
remain in safety, but recommended that she should hold her-
self in readiness to remove at a moment’s warning. She im-
mediately despatched her servant through the neighborhood to
collect provisions. At a late hour the American troops re-
turned, after a fatiguing march. Mrs. Biddle had the pleasure
of giving the dinner she had provided to at least a hundred

officers ; each remarking, as he entered, ‘‘ Madam, we hearCHAPTER VII fb)

that you feed the army to-day,” which she really did, till not a
crust remained.

The disastrous battle of Brandywine, September 11th, war
followed by the retreat of the American army to Philadelphia,
and the adjournment of Congress to Lancaster. The mas-
sacre of three hundred American soldiers under Gen. Wayne,
surprised at night near Paoli, took place at this time. The
efforts of the American Commander-in-chief failed to arrest the
advance of the British, and he was obliged to withdraw with his
army. The British entered Philadelphia on the 26th of Sep-
tember, and the main body of their army encamped at German-
town. The battle of Germantown, so disastrous to the patriots,
was fought October 4th, and after that Gen. Howe removed
into the city. His army, on its first entrance, was received
with a welcome apparently cordial, by some timid or interested
citizens. A private letter from a lady to her friend, gives an
account of the taking possession.

‘We had for a neighbor, and an intimate acquaintance, a
very amiable English gentleman, who had been in the British
army, and had left the service on marrying a rich and exeel-
lent lady of Philadelphia some years before. He endeavored
to give my mother confidence that the inhabitants would not
be ill-treated. He advised that we should be all well dressed
and that we should keep our houses closed. The army marei-
ed in, and took possession of the town in the morning. We
were up stairs, and saw them pass to the State House. They
looked well—clean and well-clad ; and the contrast between
them and our poor barefooted and ragged troops was very

creat, and caused a feeling of despair. It was a solemn and
25 Rod ie
G*78 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

impressive day; but I saw no exultation in the enemy, nor
indeed in those who were reckoned favorable to their success.

“Early in the afternoon Lord Cornwallis’s suite arrived, and
took possession of my mother’s dwelling. But my mother
was appalled by the numerous train in her house, and shrank
from having such inmates ; for a guard was mounted at the
door, and the yard filled with soldiers and baggage of every
description ; and I well remember what we thought of the
haughty looks of Lord Rawdon and the other aid-de-camp, as
they traversed the apartments. My mother desired to speak
with Lord Cornwallis, and he attended her in the front parlor.

“She told him of her situation, and how impossible it would
be for her to stay in her own house with such a train as com-
posed his lordship’s establishment. -He behaved with great
politeness to her ; said he should be sorry to give trouble, and
would have other quarters looked out for him. They with-
a | drew that very afternoon. But it did not last long; for di-
il | rectly the quartermasters were employed in billeting the
troops, and we had to find room for two officers of artil-
lery, and afterwards for two gentlemen, secretaries of Lord
| Howe. Gen. Howe, during the time he stayed im Philadel-
phia, seized and kept for his own use, Mary Pemberton’s

he coach and horses, in which he used to ride about the town.”’

eben sai TERE eo

The neighborhood of the city was infested by gangs of

HH armed loyalists, who threatened the safety of every patriot

they met. ‘Tempted by the hard money which the British

Te

maser

promised, they dared any danger, and were willing to commit

   
 
 

any enormity.

CASE EEE

Howe’s first care was to reduce the fortifications on theDelaware, and remove the obstructions prepared by the Ame-
ricans to prevent the British fleet from ascendine the river.
While Fort Mifflin, at Mud Island, and Fort Mercer, at Red
2¢ v TATA IR rn1OC y vs + -

Bank, were occupied by theit garrisons, he could have no

communication with his fleet, and was in danger of being soon

compelled to evacuate the city.

Hessian troops to take possession of the fort at Red Bank,
was repulsed and mortally wounded.
however, triumphed ; the Americans were finally driven from
their posts, and the, British gained free communication be-
tween their army and the shipping.

While these reverses cast a gloom over the whole country,
In the

xen. Burgoyne arrived at Quebec, having

events of importance were transpiring at the North.

<e
\

spring of this year

been commissioned to invade the

CHAPTER Vit.

ry

/

  
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
  

 

9

Count Donop, detached with

The invader’s fortune,

ites by the way of Lake

Champlain and the Hudson, with a view to form a communi-

cation between Canada and New York, and cut off New Eng-
land from the more southern States.
British service several tribes of Indians in the country be-
tween the Mohawk and Lake Ontario.

and Germans, Canadians and savages, advanced triumphantly

He had secured for the

His army of British

southward, spreading dismay and terror as they came, and

driving the pacific inhabitants from their homes.

The inha-

bitants of the village of Tomhanick, terrified by the news that

the enemy were at hand, burning
them, fled to a place called Stony

crowded with carriages loaded with

and murdering all before
The roads were

women and children ; dis-

tress and weeping were everywhere ; no one spoke to another,

and the tramping of horses and the dismal creaking of bur-Fe

EE ED . z
gsigys OA EE
5 z eee

 

RE

 

 

    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  

80 DOMESTIG HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

One

matron obtained a place for her children in one of the wagons,
But when she

dened wheels, alone interrupted the mournful silence.

and herself performed the journey on foot.
reached the place where she hoped to find friends, no door was
open to her. She wandered from house to house, and at
length obtained an asylum in the garret of a rich acquaint-
ance, where a couple of blankets, spread on boards, were
given her asa bed. The night was passed in tears; but the
next day her husband came and brought them to Albany,
whence they set off with several other families by water.

Gen. Schuyler, who occupied Fort Edward on the Hudson,
was forced to retreat, but embarrassed the enemy’s march by
destroying bridges and felling trees. During this retreat,
Mrs. Schuyler went herself in her chariot from Albany to
Saratoga, to see to the removal of her furniture. While there,
she received directions from the General to set fire, with her
own hand, to his extensive fields of wheat, and to require his
tenants and others to do the same, rather than suffer them to
be reaped by the enemy.

Burgoyne reached Fort Edward, July 30th, and despatch-
ed Col. Baum, a German officer, to sieze some stores at Ben-
nington, where he was defeated by Gen. Stark at the head of
the New Hampshire militia. Immediately before this battle,
Stark, with several of his officers, stopped to obtain a
draught of milk and water at the house of Mr Munro, a
loyalist, who chanced to be absent. One of the officers walk-
ed up to Mrs. Munro, and asked where her husband was
She replied that she did not know; whereupon he drew his

sword, and endeavored to intimidate her into a more satisfac-CHAPTER VII 8]

tory answer. The General. hearing the commotion, severely
reproved the officer for his uncivil behavior to a woman; and
the offender went out, apparently much abashed. Mrs.
Munro always remembered Stark’s words—‘‘ Come on, my
boys,””—as they marched to battle. The firing continued till
late ; and after a sleepless night, Mrs. Munro and her sister

repaired with the earliest dawn to the battle-field, carrying

 

pails of milk and water—and wandering among the heaps of

slain and wounded, relieved the thirst of sufferers, of whom

 

some—the Hessians—were unable to express their thankful-

ness, save by the mute eloquence of grateful looks. Towards

)
noon wagons were sent to convey them to hospitals, and to
bring away the dead for burial.

ry

The consequence of this battle was the delay of the British
at Fort Edward for nearly a month. The tragedy of the
murder of Miss McCrea, which caused so deep a sensation
both in Europe and America, occurred while Burgoyne’s army
was approaching the fort. The young lady was on a visit to
a widow, Mrs. McNiel. Her house stood near the foot of the
hill, a little northward from the fort, which was surrounded
by a cleared and cultivated plain. The hill-side was covered
with bushes, while a quarter of a mile above, on the summit
of the hill, a huge pine tree shadowed a clear spring.

Jane McCrea was friendly to the English, having formed a
matrimonial engagement with a young man, David Jones, who
had taken part with them. It is supposed she had been coun-
selled by her lover not to leave Mrs. McNiel’s house till the
advance of the British troops should enable both to join him

This may account for her remaining unprotected in so ex-
4*aguapaepeepseep iat

LEST Io

Ge EEE EEE EE

 

 

 

  

82 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

posed a situation, although alarmed by rumors of the approach
of the Indians, and reminded of her danger by the Americans
at the fort.

parties, it would have been dangerous for her lover to attempt

The woods being filled with American scouting

a visit to her.

The timid but confiding girl expected, from hour to hour,
intelligence from her betrothed, and awaited the long desired
She and

her friend were at last alarmed by seeing a party of Indians

moment when they should meet to part no more.
advancing towards the house. The savages had been a terror
to all that part of the country, and the tales told of their un-
sparing cruelty were fresh in remembrance. Their first im-
pulse was to endeavor to escape ; but the Indians made signs
of a pacific intent, and one of them held up a letter, intimat-
ing that it would explain their business.* This removed all
apprehensions, and the letter was taken from the messenger.
It proved to be from Capt. Jones. He entreated Jane and
her friend to put themselves under the protection of the In-
dians, whom he had sent for the purpose of taking charge of
them, and who would escort them in safety to the British
camp.

The two women, notwithstanding some misgivings, lost no
time in preparation, and set off under the guidance of the
savages. It happened that two separate parties of Indians,
commanded by two independent chiefs, had come forth on

this enterprise. ‘They had another object in view—an attack

* Mr. Lossing says they were taken forcibly from the house by the
Indians. The particulars of the murder were told Mr. Sparks by

Standish.CHAITER VII. 83

upon a picket guard stationed in the woods on the hill. This
arrangement, it is probable, was not known to Jones, or he
would hardly have trusted the safety of Miss McCrea to the
contingencies of such an expedition.

The party attacking the guard rushed upon it through the
woods from different points, making the forest resound with
their horrible yelling ; killing the lieutenant and five others,
and wounding four more. One of the guard was Samuel
Standish, whose post was near the pine tree. He discharged
his musket at an Indian, and ran down the hill towards the
fort ; but being intercepted on the plain by three Indians,
who rushed from the thicket, fired at and wounded him
slightly, and then secured him, he was forced to re-ascend the
hill, where he saw several Indians at the spring beneath the
pine tree.

Here he was left alone, bound, and expecting death every
moment, to witness, at a short distance, the appalling scene
that ensued. Another party of Indians came in a few min-
utes up the hill, bringing with them Miss McCrea and her
companion. ‘The two parties of savages here met; and it
was presently apparent that a violent altercation had arisen
between them. The dispute was about the division of the
reward they were to receive for the service rendered. The
savages to whom the mission had been entrusted, it appears,
were not aware of the relation in which the girl stood to their
employer, and looked upon her rather as a prisoner, decoyed
by a stratagem into their power. This supposition accounts
for their conduct, consistently with the usages of the Indians

in the case of captives whom they feared to lose. The quar-ices A se een ee ee gee

POI OE OE OED Le
3 et es EE SOU EE ET
C Z ate taae

 

 

 

 

a4 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

uy

rel became furious; violent words and blows ensued, and in
the midst of the fray, one of the chiefs fired at Miss McCrea.
The shot entered her breast; she sank to the ground and in-
stantly expired. The Indian grasped her long, flowing locks,
drew his knife and took off the scalp; then, leaping from the
eround with a yell of savage exultation, he brandished it in
the air, and tossed it in the face of a young warrior who stood
near him.

This murder terminated the quarrel, and the Indians, fear-
ful of being pursued by men from the fort, where the alarm
had already been given, hurried away with their two prison-
ers, Standish and Mrs. McNiel, towards Gen. Frazer’s en-
campment on the read to Fort Anne. The body of the
murdered cirl was left under the tree, gashed in several places
hy a tomahawk or scalping knife, and was found, with the
others who had been slain, by the party in pursuit. A mes-
senger was immediately despatched with the dreadful tidings
to her brother, who soon after arrived and took charge of his

sister’s corpse. It was buried on the east side of the river,

 

about three miles below the fort.C BA BR oN de

£HE BATTLES OF SARATOGA——THE PRISONERS Aq CaM-

BRIDGE.

GrNERAL Burcoyrne, in the midst of a wilderness, and
surrounded by enemies, had litt.e reliance on his savage allies.
Before the middle of September he broke up his encamp-
ment, crossed the Hadson and took his position on the heights
and plains of Saratoga. Gen. Gates, who had recently been
appointed to the command of the northern American army,
had removed from the mouth of the Mohawk, and occupied
Behmus’ Heights, near Stillwater. By the 18th of September
Burgoyne had advanced within two miles of the American

5

camp, and on the 19th was fought the bloody battle of Still-
water. Burgoyne then determined to await the co-operation
of Gen Clinton from New York ; but his Canadian and In-
dian forces began to desert him on the prospect of a reverse.

After frequent skirmishes, another general battle was fought
on the 7th of October. This, though a fierce and desperate

: ce os : . ANI. eee
conflict, proved decisive in favor of the Americans. The jouw nal

IO

of the Baroness Riedesel, the wife of one of the German officers

in the royal army, who, with her three children, had followed its

le scenes. On thatday the Hng-

march; describes these memorab
He

MANOA
e SORE e Soeee Ee

CLI LLEEEID PEND AUDEN ee aarti erring s

sem eee eee

ae

 

 

 

 

86 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVQLUTION.

lish generals, Burgoyne, Phillips, and Frazer, were invited to
dine with her and the Baron. She had observed in the morning
an unusual movement in the camp ; and had seen a number
of armed Indians in their war dresses, who answered ‘‘ War!
war !?? to her inquiries whither they were going. As the din
ner hour approached, an increased tumult, the firing, and the
yelling of the savages, announced the approaching battle.
The roar of artillery became louder and more incessant. At
four o’clock, instead of the guests invited, Gen. Frazer was
brought in mortally wounded. ‘The table already prepared
for dinner, was removed to make room for his bed.

The Baroness, terrified by the noise of the conflict raging
without, expected every moment to see her husband also led
in pale and helpless. Towards night he came to the house,
dined in haste, and desired his wife to pack up her camp fur-
niture, and be ready for removal at.an instant’s warning. His
dejected countenance told the disastrous result. Lady Ack-
land, whose tent was adjoining, was presently informed that
her husband was wounded and a prisoner! Thus through the
long hours till day, the kind ministries of the Baroness were
demanded by many sufferers. ‘I divided the night,” she
says, ‘“‘ between her I wished to comfort, and my children,
who were asleep, but who I feared might disturb the poor
dying General Several times he begged my pardon for the
trouble he thought he gave me. About three o’clock I was
informed he could not live much longer; and as I did not
wish to be present at his last struggle, I wrapped my children
in blankets, and retired into the room below. At eight in the

morning he expired.??CHAPTER VIII 87

All day the cannonade continued, and the women attended
the wounded soldiers who were brought in. Trazer’s last re-
quest had been that he should be buried at six in the evening
in the great redoubt on the hill, and the retreat of the British
was delayed for this purpose. The generals, with their reti-
nues, followed the corpse to the spot in the midst of a heavy
fire from the Americans; for Gen. Gates knew not that it
was a funeral procession. The women stood in full view of
the scene, while the deepening shadows of evening closed
around the group thus rendering the last service to one of
their number, while each might anticipate his own death in
the next report of artillery. ‘‘ Many cannon balls, said the
Baroness, “‘ flew close by me; but I had my eyes directed
towards the mountain where my husband was standing amidst
the fire of the enemy, and I did not think of my own danger.”

The story of female heroism and fidelity with which the
name of Lady Harriet Ackland is associated, belongs to this
time. She was the wife of Maj. Ackland, one of Burgoyne’s
officers, and like Madame de Riedesel, had accompanied the
army from Canada to Saratoga, her vehicle of conveyance a
small two-wheeled tumbril, drawn by one horse, over almost
impassable roads and through extensive forests. The women
generally followed in the rear of the artillery and baggage, but
heard all the uproar in encounters with the enemy.

When the fate of Ackland was announced, his unhappy
wife, sustained by the counsels of her friend the Baroness,
determined to join him in the American camp. She sent a
message to Gen. Burgoyne, to ask permission to depart. The

WwW

British commander was astonished at this application; heeee ee

 

Saanich oe eee

ease ATE ROE UEC

 

 

fore

88 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

could hardly understand the courage of a woman, who after
suffering so long the agitation of suspense, exhausted by want
of rest and want of food, was ready to brave the darkness of
night and the drenching rain for many hours, and to deliver
herself to the enemy, uncertain into what hands she migh#
fall! “ The assistance I was able to give,’? he says, ‘* was
small indeed. [had not even a cup of wine to offer her
All I could furnish was an open boat, and a few lines written
on dirty and wet paper to Gen. Gates, recommending her to
his protection.”’

She set out in an open boat, accompanied by the British
chaplain Brudenell, her own maid, and her husband’s valet,
who had been severely wounded in the search for his master
when first missing from the field of battle. They went down
the river during a violent storm of rain and wind, and arrived
at the American outposts in the night, having suffered much
from wet and cold. The sentinel of the advance-guard heard
the sound of oars, and hailed the boat. What must have been
his surprise to hear that a woman had brayed the storm on
such an errand! He sent for Maj. Dearborn, the officer of
the guard, who invited Lady Ackland to his guard house,
offered her a cup of tea and every accommodation in his
power, and gave her the welcome intelligence of her husband’s
safety. In the morning she experienced the kindness of Gen.
Gates, receiving every attention which her circumstances re-
yuired. She was conveyed, under a suitable escort, to the
quarters of Gen. Poor on the heights, to her wounded hus-
band ; and there remained till he was taken to Albany. Her

resolution and devotion to him touched the feelings of theCHAPTER VIII. 89

Je

Americans, and won the admiration of all who heard her
story.

That night the British army commenced its retreat, leay-
ing the sick and wounded; a flag of truce waving over the
hospital thus abandoned to the mercy of the foe. The rain
fell in torrents all day of the 9th,
reached Saratoga. Madame de Riedesel suffered cruel sus-

a :
and it was dark when they

pense as to the fate of her husband. She had taken charge
of some valuables belonging to the officers, and having no
place to change her drenched apparel, lay down with her
children upon some straw by the fire. Her provisions were
shared the next day with the officers; and being insufficient
to satisfy their hunger, she made an appeal to the Adjutant-
General in their behalf.

Again the alarm of battle, and reports of muskets and can-
nons, drove them to seek shelter in a house, which was fired
at under the impression that the generals were there. It was
occupied by women and crippled soldiers. They were obliged
at last to descend into the cellar, where the Baroness laid her-
self in a corner, supporting her children’s heads on her knees.
The night was passed in the utmost terror and anguish ; and
ib

ie cannonade commenced anew.

with the morning the terr
So it continued for several days. But in the midst of the
dreadful scenes, when the Baron spoke of sending his family
to the American camp, the heroic wife declared that nothing
would be so painful to her as to owe safety to those with whom
he was fighting. He then consented that she should continue
to follow the army. ‘‘ However,” she says, ‘‘ the apprehen-

sion that he might have marched away, repes tedly entered

H*MRM AM HARA AA_ USN

 

     
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  

90 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

i | my mind; and I crept up the staircase more than once to
dispel my fears. When I saw our soldiers near the watch-
fires, I became more calm, and could even have slept.”
‘““The want of water continuing to distress us, we were
extremely glad to find a soldier’s wife so spirited as to fetch
some from the river, an occupation from which the boldest
might have shrunk, as the Americans shot every one who ap-
proached it. They told us afterwards that they spared her
on account of her sex. I endeavored to dispel my melancholy
by continually attending to the wounded. I made them tea
and coffee, and often shared my dinner with them. One day
a Canadian officer came creeping into our cellar, and was
hardly able to say that he was dying with hunger. I felt
lappy to offer him my dinner, by eating which he recovered

his strength.”

 

AAU EEE

Bae At length Burgoyne and his officers decided on surrender.

ta On the 17th the capitulation was carried into effect. The

generals waited upon Gates, and the troops yielded themselves
ee | prisoners of war. ‘ At last,” writes Madame de Riedesel,
| “my husband’s groom brought me a message to join him with
cn the children. I once more seated myself in my dear calash ,
| and while driving through the American camp, was gratified
to observe that no one looked at us with disrespect, but on

the contrary, greeted us, and seemed touched at the sight of

 

a captive mother with three children When I drew near the

I tents, a fine-looking man advanced towards me, helped the

are ses i MIRA ered SRI BME TEE EE
Zs a y TE
LL

 

children from the calash, and kissed and caressed them. He

 

then offered me his arm, and tears stood in his eyes. ‘ You

Real aig,

ana ee oe

SametCHAPTER VIII. 9]

tremble, madam,’ said he; ‘do not be alarmed.’ He then
ushered me into the tent of Gen. Gates, whom I found en-

gaged in friendly conversation with Burgoyne and Phillips

 

Gen. Burgoyne said to me—‘ You can now be quiet and free
from all apprehension of danger.’

‘¢ All the generals remained to dine with the American com-
mander. The gentleman who had received me with so much
kindness, came and said to me: ‘ You may find it embarrassing
to be the only lady in so large a company of gentleman. Will
you come with your children to my tent, and partake of a
frugal dinner ?? ‘ You show me so much kindness,’ replied
J, ‘I cannot but believe that you are a husband and a father.’
He informed me that he was Gen. Schuyler. The dinner wa:
of excellent smoked tongues, beefsteaks, potatoes, fresh butter,
and bread. After our dinner, Gen. Schuyler begged me to
pay him a visit at his house near Albany, where he expected
that Gen. Burgoyne would also be his guest. I sent to ask my
husband’s directions, and he advised me to accept the invita-
tion.

‘‘ Our reception at Albany, from Gen. Schuyler and his wife
and daughters, was not like the reception of enemies, but of
the most intimate friends. They loaded us with kindness ;
and they behaved in the same manner towards Gen. Burgoyne,
though he had without any necessity ordered their splendid
country-seat near Saratoga to be burnt. All their actions
proved that at the sight of the misfortunes of others, they
quickly forgot their own. Burgoyne was so much affected by
this generous deportment, that he said to Schuyler: ‘ You

> ne
are too kind to me, who have done you so much injury.i I AMS pee REL REED ee oe ee

Mae

 

 

 

AAA AAAS

pes

92 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

‘Such is the fate of war,’ Schuyler replied; ‘let us not
dwell on this subject.? We remained three days with that
excellent family, and they seemed to regret our departure.”
Tt was one of the most picturesque incidents of the war, that
the captive British general with his suite, should be entertained
by those whose property he had wantonly laid waste. Gen.
Schuyler had written from Saratoga to his wife, to make every
preparation for giving the prisoners the best reception. This
narrative teaches us one of the great lessons belonging to the
story of battle and victory. In the midst of admiration for
the brilliant achievement of Saratoga, we should not lose pity
for the disasters that accompanied the triumph. We may see
humanity and courtesy prevailing in the midst of tha strife.
“Tf the fivures of the victure are florce and repulsive—the
firures of brethren armed against brethren—of mercenary
Germans and frantic savages—Oanadian rangers and Ameri-
can ploughmen—all bristling torether with the horrid front of
war, what a charm of contrast is presented, when among
these stern and forbidding groups is beheld the forms of

Christian women moving to and fro, softening the misfortunes

sates eT ee : oe A Ae e ee aS et .

of defeat, and checking the elation of victory.??
mn c ayy * urar Ann  TWATTAL Le een ps es L . ia =
The prisoners were conveyed to Boston, and, after a stay

of three weeks, were removed to Cambridge. A letter written
by a Cambridge lady, dated Nov. 11, 1777, thus describes
their entrance: “ Last Thursday, which was a very stormy
day, a large number of British troops came softly through the
town by Watertown to Prospect Hill. On Friday we heard
the Hessians were to make a procession in the same route.
To be sure the sight was truly astonishing. J never had the

ACCHAPTER VIII. 93

least idea that the creation produced snch a sordid set of erca-
tures in human form—poor, dirty, emaciated men, and great
numbers of women, who seemed to be the beasts of burden,
having bushel baskets on their-backs, by which they were bent

double. The contents seemed to be pots and kettles, various

sorts of furniture, children peeping through gridirons and other
utensils—some very young infants, who were born on the road
—the women barefoot, clothed in dirty rags. Such effluvia
filled the air while they were passing, that had they not been
smoking all the time, I should have been apprehensive of being

contaminated. After a noble-looking advanced guard, Gen.

rm

Burgoyne headed this terrible group on horseback. The
other generals, also clothed in blue cloaks—Hessians, Wal-
deckers, Anspackers, Brunswickers, ete.—followed. The
Hessian generals gave us a polite bow as they passed. Not
so the British. Their baggage-wagons were drawn by poor,
half-starved horses. But to bring up the rear, another fine,
noble-looking guard of American brawny victorious yeomanry
—some of our wagons drawn by fat oxen, driven by joyous-
looking Yankees—closed the cavalcade. The generals and
other officers went to Bradish’s, where they quarter at present.
The privates trudged through thick and thin to the hills, where
we thought they were to be confined. But what was our sur-
prise when, in the morning, we beheld an inundation of those
disagreeable objects filling our streets, in a manner demanding
our houses and colleges for their accommodation! Did the
brave General Gates ever mean this? Is there not a degree
of unkindness in loading poor Cambridge, almost ruined before

this great army scemed to be let loose upon us :”ae tae gee EE ETE

ee

Crs a Omnia ogee ees

oe eee

 

 

 

 

 

  

94 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

“Gen. Burgoyne dined on Saturday in Boston with
Gen. —. He rode through the town properly attended,
down Court street and through the main street; and on
his return walked on foot to Charlestown Ferry, followed by
a great number of spectators as ever attended a Pope; and
generously observed to an officer with him, the decent and
modest behavior of the inhabitants as he passed ; saying, if he
had been conducting prisoners through the city of London,
not all the guards of Majesty could have prevented insults.
He likewise acknowledges Lincoln and Arnold to be great

generals. It is said we shall have not less than seven thousand

oO

persons to feed in Cambridge and its environs, more than its
inhabitants. Two hundred and fifty cords of wood will not
serve them a week. Think, then, how we must be distressed !
Wood has risen to five pounds ten shillings a cord, and but a
little to be purchased. I never thought I could lie down to
sleep surrounded by these enemies ; but we strangely become
jured to those things which appear difficult when distant ”
The ladies belonging to Burgoyne’s army received many
courtesies from Mrs. Hancock and others in Cambridge. Gen.
Riedesel and his family were lodged in one of the best houses,
and the Baroness occasionally visited whig ladies in the village
and Boston. <A ball given by her was so brilliant and so nu-
merously attended, that the house was surrounded with people,
who began to suspect a conspiracy. She noticed thesAmerican
method of telegraphing by lighting torches on surrounding
heights, when they wished to call troops together, and called
to mind that when Gen. Howe attempted to rescue the troops

detained in Boston, the inhabitants planted their torches, andCHAPTER VIII. OF

a crowd of people, without shoes or stockings, their rifles on
their shoulders, flocked together.

The British general, Sir Henry Clinton, had proceeded up
the Hudson early in October, in hopes of making a diversion,
oy his devastations, in favor of Burgoyne. Two important
forts (Horts Clinton and Montgomery) were captured, and
Ksopus, now Kingston—one of the earliest Dutch settlements
mm New York, and a populous and wealthy town—was laid in
ashes.

A spy, sent after the capture of Fort Montgomery, carried
a letter from Clinton to Burgoyne, enclosed in a silver bullet,
which, when taken prisoner, he swallowed. The action was
observed, and an emetic administered to the messenger, who
was afterwards executed. On the news of Burgoyne’s sur-
render, Gen. Clinton withdrew to New York.

The intelligence of the brilliant victories of Saratoga raised
the hopes of the country, which had been deeply depressed by
the reverses of Washington’s army. ‘The necessity for some
bond of union between the States had begun to be felt, and, in
November, the articles of confederation proposed by Franklin
more than a year before, were adopted by Congress. ‘‘ This
confederation amounted to little more than a league of friend-
ship between the States ;” but its deficiencies were hardly
noticed while a common sense of danger bound all together.
After the close of the war it was found necessary to revise the

system for a permanent government.ee 5 -
ee AGAMA EE EEE EE
GLEE ye ie ge Cai Sipe

eae

Cee Ee

 

 

 

 

CHAP Tb Ra:

FEMALE AGENCY—VALLEY FORGE—STATE OF PHILADELPHIA

Wuite the American army remained encamped at White
Marsh, the British being in possession of Philadelphia, Gen.
Howe made some vain attempts to draw Washington inte
an engagement. An incident of female agency is well remem-
bered by many aged persons. The house opposite the head-
quarters of Gen. Howe, in the city, tenanted by William
and Lydia Darrah, members of the Society of Friends, was
the place selected by the superior officers of the army for
private conference, whenever it was necessary to hold consul-
tations. On the afternoon of the 2d of December, the British
Adjutant-General called and informed the mistress that he and
some friends were to meet there that evening, and desired that
the back room upstairs might be prepared for their reception.
‘And be sure, Lydia,” he concluded, “ that your family are
all in bed at an early hour. When our guests are ready to
leave the house, I will myself give you notice, that you may
let us out, and extinguish the fire and candles.”

Having delivered this order, the Adjutant-General departed.

Lydia betook herself to getting all things in readiness. ButCHAPTER IX 97

the words she had heard, especially the injunction to retire
early, rang in her ears; and she could not divest herself of
the feeling that something of importance was in agitation.
The evening closed in, and the officers came to the place of
meeting. Lydia had ordered all her family to bed, and her-
self admitted the guests, after which she retired to her own
apartment.

But sleep refused to visit her eyelids. She became more
and more uneasy, and at last slid from the bed, and taking
off her shoes, passed noiselessly from her chamber and along
the entry. Approaching cautiously the apartment in which
the officers were assembled, she applied her ear to the key-hole.
lor a few moments she could distinguish but a word or two
amid the murmur of voices. At length there was profound
silence, and a voice was heard reading a paper aloud. It was
an order for the troops to quit the city on the night of the
4th, and march out to a secret attack upon the American
army at White Marsh.

Lydia retreated softly to her own room, and laid herself
quictly on the bed. It seemed to her that but a few moments
had elapsed, when there was a knocking at her door. She
knew well what the signal meant, but took no heed. It was
repeated again and again; and then she rose quickly, and
opened the door. It was the Adjutant General, who came to
inform her they were ready to depart. Lydia let them oat,
fastened the house, and extinguished the lights and fire.
Again she returned to her chamber; but her mind was
more disquieted than ever, for she thought of the danger

that threatened the lives of thousands of her countrymen.
5 ISe oe nS eee |
te es AMATI IIe ANON Tce EEE EEE
y GY Z a iy poh pe oz

 

 

98 DOMESTIC HISTORY .9F THE REVOLUTION

   

Her resolution at length was formed, and at dawn of day she
waked her husband, and informed him flour was wanted for the
use of the household, and that it was necessary she should go
to Frankford to procure it. Taking the bag with her, she
walked through the snow, having first obtained a written per-
mission to pass the British lines. She reached Frankford,
distant four or five miles, and deposited her bag at the mill.
Now commenced the dangers of her undertaking, for she
pressed forward with all haste towards the outposts of the
American army. Her determination was to apprise General
Washington of the danger.

She was met on her way by an American officer, who had
been selected by General Washington to gain information re-
specting the movements of the enemy. He inquired whither
she was going, and she disclosed the secret, after having ob-
tained from him a solemn promise not to betray her, since the
British might take vengeance on her and her family. He
thanked her for her timely warning, and directed her to go to
a house near at hand, where she might get something to eat.
out Lydia preferred returning at once ; and did so, carrying
her bag of flour, while the officer made all haste to the Com-
mander-in-chief. Preparations were immediately made to
give the enemy a fitting reception.

None suspected the grave, demure Quakeress of having
snatched from the English their anticipated victory ; but after
the return of the British troops, a loud knocking was heard at
Lydia’s door. The visitor was the Adjutant General, who sum-
moned her to his apartment, locked the door with an air of

maystery, and motioned her to a seat. After a moment of si-CFYAPTER IX. 99

lence, he said—‘ Were any of your family up, Lydia, on the
nizht when I received company in this house ?”

“No,” was the reply. ‘ They all retired at eight o’clock.”’

“Tt is very strange,” said the officer, and mused a few
minutes. ‘* You, I know, Lydia, were asleep, for I knocked
at your door three times before you heard me—yet it is cer-
tain that we were betrayed. I am altogether at a loss to con-
ceive who could have given the information of our intended
attack to General Washington! On arriving near his encamp-
ment we found his cannon mounted, his troops under arms, and
s0 prepared at every point to receive us, that we have been
compelled to march back without injuring our enemy, like a
parcel of fools.”’

The American army now went into winter quarters at
Valley Forge. This was a dreary, rugged valley, about twenty
miles north-west of Philadelphia. The army encamped on its
mountainous borders. The condition of the troops was de-
plorable enough to change hope into despair, and presented a
spectacle unparalleled in history. During one of the most
rigorous winters ever experienced in the country, the soldiers
were without shoes, blankets, clothing, or provisions; and
their rude log-huts, built to accommodate twelve men each,
scarcely covered them from the fallmg snow, or sheltered them °
from the cutting blasts. Their feet, cut by the ice, left their
tracks in blood, and their only bed was straw, on the damp
ground. Marshall’s MS. journal, after describing their des-
titution and suffering, says: “‘ Our enemies revelling in balls,
attended with every degree of luxury and excess in the city ;

° ° vir = re aa ay 1 Y 7 99
rioting and wantonly using ow houses, utensils, and furniture.BPI ELI

een a =
i , ; ‘ i ARENA ee ET

 

 

100 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

 

The farmers of the country refused to exchange their produce
for the depreciated paper currency, and hard money was ex-
tremely scarce. ven the officers were so destitute of decent
clothing, it was afterwards jocosely remarked that a single suit
of dress uniform served them all for dining in, when invited
by turns to head-quarters.

The ladies did not shrink from their share in these priva-
tions, or from labors of kindness. Mrs. Knight was one of
many who aided to relieve the horrible sufferings of the army
—cooking and carrying provisions to them through the snow,
alone ; even passing through the outposts of the British army
in the disguise of a market woman. Mrs. Washington, with
others, by her cheerful endurance of hardship, strenethened
the fortitude of many who would have complained, and gave
hope and confidence to the desponding. She soothed the dis-
tresses of many sufferers, seeking out the poor and afflicted
with benevolent kindness, extending relief wherever it was in
her power, and with graceful deportment presiding in the
Chief’s humble dwelling. Ina letter to a friend she says,
“The General’s apartment is very small; he has had a log
eabin built to dine in, which has made our quarters much more
tolerable than they were at first.” Their table was scantily
furnished ; but the soldiers fared still worse, sitting down at a
board of rough planks, set with horn spoons and a few cups,
the food being often salt herrings and potatoes, without other
vegetables, or tea, coffee, or sugar. The stone jug passed
round was filled with water from the nearest spring ; and rare
was the privilege of toddy, in which to drink the health of the

nation. Yet here, forgetful of herself, the patriot wifea

    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    

CHAPTER IX. 101

anxiously watched the aspect of affairs, and was happy when
the political horizon brightened. She writes to Mrs. Warren
—‘‘ Jt has given me unspeakable pleasure to hear that Gen.
Burgoyne and his army are in safe quarters in your State.
Would bountiful Providence aim a like stroke at Gen.
Howe, the measure of my happiness would be complete.”
Some of the whig families who remained in Philadelphia
were plundered by the soldiers, and often wanted the comforts
of life. Many ladies here visited the American prisoners,
carrying them provisions from their own tables. They also
took food and medicines to the soldiers who were brought to
the city ill with the camp-fever and placed in empty houses,
often ministering themselves to their wants. An anecdote of
an American farmer, Israel Israel, who came from Wilmington
to bring provisions and money to his mother, entering Phila-
delphia at night, may give some idea of the state of the times,
A tory neighbor at Wilmington having given him the counter-
sign for the night, he was permitted to pass by the sentinel at
the ferry, and went to his mother’s house. There he found
his younger brother, who served in the army, and had also
ventured on a secret visit to his relatives. At eleven o’clock,
while the family was seated at supper, the tramp of horses was
heard without, and the rough voices of soldiers at the door.
These, with a Hessian officer, had been quartered upon the
family, and of course entered the house at what hours they
pleased. The terrified mother and sisters entreated the
brothers to fly, and followed the younger upstairs, where he
made his escape from the roof. The knocking and shouting

continued below; Israel descended, accompanied by the fe-
1*SoS

 

     
 
  
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
  
  

102 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

|

|

| males, and opened the door. ‘The soldiers rushed in, at their

head the Hessian sergeant, who seized the young man, ex

claiming, ‘‘ We have caught the rebel!” A black slave be-
longing to the household had given information, under threats,
of his young master’s visit.

Israel, with great presence of mind, explained that his
brother was the person meant, produced his uniform, and
showed that it did not fit him. The sergeant then shook
hands with him, assuring him that he was convinced of his
being a loyal subject, and seated himself at the supper-table.
The ladies were obliged to take their places, and listen in si-
lence to the coarse remarks of their unwelcome guest, and his
boastful details of his exploits in slaughtering “‘ the rebels,”

ie especially in the affair at Paoli. At length he bade the
| family good-night, saying he was on duty, and quitted the
house. Israel then set out on his journey homeward, but ar-
Wt rived only to be made a prisoner. ‘The loyalist who had given
( | i] him the countersign, had betrayed the secret of his expedition.

He and his wife’s brother were seized and carried on board

SO ee ON

the royal frigate Roebuck, lying in the Delaware, a few miles

 

from the then borough of Wilmington—and directly opposite
his farm—in order to be tried as spves.

Being one of the ‘‘ Committee of Safety,” his position un-
nye) der such an accusation, was extremely critical. On board
et the ship he was treated with the utmost severity. His watch,
Hee silver shoe-buckles, and various articles of clothing were taken
from him; his bed was a coil of ropes on deck, without cov-

ering from the bitter cold of the night air; and to all appear-

pai did dani G ia EEE

ence his fate was already decided. The testimony of his toryCHAPTER IX. 103

neichbors was strong against him. Several were ready to
swear to the fact, that while the loyal population of the coun-
try had willingly furnished their share of the provisions needed
by the ships of war, he had been heard to say repeatedly,
that he ‘‘ would sooner drive his cattle as a present to Gen-
eral Washington, than receive thousands of dollars in British
gold for them.”

On being informed of this speech, the commander gave orders
that a detachment of soldiers should proceed to drive the
rebel’s cattle, then grazing in a meadow in full view, down to
the river, and slaughter them in the face of the prisoners.
The farm was a mile or more from the river; but there was
nothing to intercept the view—the ground from the meadow
sloping down to the water.

Mrs. Israel saw the soldiers land from the ships, shoulder
arms, and advance towards the meadow. In an instant she
guessed their purpose ; and her resolution was taken. With
a boy eight years old, whom she bade follow her, she started
from the house, determined to save the cattle at the peril of
her life. Throwing down the bars, and followed by the boy,
she ran to drive the herd to the opening. The soldiers called
out repeatedly to her to stop, and threatened, if she did not,
to fire upon her. She heeded not, and they fired. The
frightened cattle ran in every direction over the field, but not
one escaped! The little boy fell; Mrs. Israel seized him by
the arm, lifted him over the fence, and herself drove the cat-
tle into the barn-yard. The assailants, probably not daring,
for fear of the neighbors, to invade the farm-houses, retraced

their steps and returned disappointed to the ship. All thises te alas TS IA ieee Deg EEE

NI

) pas

104 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

scene passed in sight of the officers of the “ Roebuck” and
the two prisoners.

A kind-hearted sailor sought an opportunity of speaking
with Israel in private, and asked him if he were a free-mason.
The answer was in the affirmative. The sailor then informed
him that a lodge was held on ship-board, and the officers, who
belonged to it, were to mect that night. The trial was held
the same day on board; the tory witnesses were examined in
due form ; the prisoners were called up before their judges,
and permitted to answer to the accusations against them.
Israel, in bold but respectful language, related his story, and
acknowledged his secret visit to Philadelphia, not in the cha-
racter of a spy, but to carry relief to his suffering parent and
her family. Afterwards, watching his opportunity, he made
to the commanding officer the secret sign of masonic brother-
hood. The effect was instantly observable. The officer’s
stern countenance softened ; his change of opinion, and that
of the other judges, became evident ; and after some further
examination, the court was broken up. The acquitted prisoners
were dismissed, loaded with presents of pins, handkerchiefs, and
other articles not to be purchased at that time, for the intrepid
wife, and were sent on shore in a splendid barge, as a mark of
special honor from the officer in command.

An anecdote of a female spy is related in the journal of
Maj. Tallmadge. While the Americans were at Valley Forge,
he was stationed in the vicinity of Philadelphia with a detach-
ment of cavalry, to observe the movements of the enemy, and
limit the range of British foraging parties. His duties re-

quired the utmost vigilance ; his squad seldom remained allCHAPTER IX. 105

night in the same position, and their horses were rarely un-
saddled. Hearing that a country girl had gone into the city
with eges—having been sent by one of the American officers

ge advanced towards the British

©

to gain information—Tallmad
lines, and dismounted at a small tavern within view of their
outposts. The girl came to the tavern, but while she was
communicating her intelligence to the Major, the alarm was
given that the British light-horse were approaching. Tall-
madge instantly mounted, and as she entreated protection,
bade her get up behind him. ‘They rode three miles at full
speed to Germantown, the damsel showing no fear during the
ride, though there was much firing of pistols, and some wheel-
ing and charging.

Tradition relates that some of the women in Philadelphia,
whose husbands were in the American army, used to procure
intelligence through a market boy, who came into the city to
bring provisions, and carried the dispatches sent by his friends
in the back of his coat. One morning, when there was some
reason to fear he was suspected, and his movements watched,
a young girl undertook to get the papers. She went to mar-
ket, and in a pretended game of romps, threw her shawl over
the boy’s head, thus securing the prize. She hastened with
the papers to her friends, who read them with deep interest,
after the windows had been carefully closed. When news
came of Burgoyne’s surrender, the sprightly girl, not daring
to give vent openly to her exultation, put her head up the

chimney and gave a shout for Gates.
5%
5

AOA Oate te oe ec teat ie ag ag eee ae

CRE TR EEE

 

Cao 2 BR. ae

BRITISH PRISONS IN NEW YORK.

Some notice of the British prisons in New York will be
here appropriate ; the more so, as no account of them is given
in any general history.

At the battle of Long Island twelve hundred Americans
fell into the hands of the enemy. These prisoners were dis-
tributed into the churches of Brooklyn, Flatbush, Flatlands,
and New Utrecht, while some were put on board the British
shipping in Gravesend Bay. Here the sick and wounded suf-
fered much from neglect of cleanliness, breathing an infected
air, and want of medical attendance. Ten days after the battle,
Dr. Richard Bailey, of New York, a loyalist, was appointed to
the charge of them. He was assisted by Dr. Silas Holmes, of
Norwich, a prisoner. Dr. Bailey procured a sack-bed, sheet
and blanket for each patient, put them into the adjacent
barns, and permitted them to visit the neighboring houses to

When the British occu-

pied New York, the prisoners were removed thither, and

buy milk and other refreshments.

The tide of war was now turned
The action at White Plains, and the

capture of Fort Washington, combined with the defeat at

placed in the city prisons.

in favor of the royalists.»

CHAPTER X. 107

Brooklyn, placed in their power upwards of four tLousand
men. If to these we add the private citizens who were ar-
rested for political considerations in the vicinity of New York
and on Long Island, we may safely conclude that the British
commander had at least five thousand souls to provide for.

The sudden influx of so many prisoners, the recent capture of
the city, and the unforeseen conflagration of a fourth part of
it, threw the commandant’s affairs into such confusion, that the
captives must of necessity have suffered much from want of food
and other comforts. To these privations were superadded the
wanton cruelty of Capt. Cunningham, the Provost-marshal,
and his deputies, and the criminal negligence of Sir William
Howe. The ordinary places of confinement were totally in-
adequate to contain so vast a number of prisoners. Accord-
ingly the Sugar House, the North and Middle Dutch Churches,
the Brick Church, King’s (now Columbia) College, the New

3ridewell, the Old City Hall, and the New Jail, were appro-
priated to their use.

Till within a few years the Sugar House stood in Liberty
street, south of the Middle Dutch Church; a dark, stone
building, with small, deep, port-hole looking windows, rising
tier above tier, exhibiting a dungeon-like aspect. It was five
stories high, and each story was divided into two dreary
apartments. On the stones and bricks in the walls were to
be seen initials and dates, as if done with a prisoner’s pen-
knife or nail. There was a strong, jail-like door opening on
Liberty strect, and another on the south-east, descending into
a dismal cellar, also used as a prison. There was a walk

nearly broad enough for a cart to travel around it, where,

ee

Pe eeSs

 

  

108 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

|

| | night and day, two British or Hessian guards walked their

| weary rounds. The yard was surrounded by a close board

1 fence, nine feet high. ‘ In the suffocating heat of summer,”

Hh says Dunlap, “I saw every narrow aperture of those
stone walls filled with human heads, face above face, seeking
a portion of the external air.’? While the jail-fever was
raging, in the summer of 1777, the prisoners were let out, in
companies of twenty, for half an hour ata time, to breathe fresh
air; and inside they were so crowded, that they divided their
numbers into squads of six each. Number one stood for ten
minutes as close to the window as they could crowd, and then
number two took their places; and so on. Seats there were
none ; and their beds were but straw infested with vermin.
For many weeks the dead-cart visited the prison every morn-
ee ing, into which eight to twelve corpses were flung and piled
| up, like sticks of wood, and thrown into ditches in the out-
it skirts of the city.
| The North Dutch Church, corner of William and Fulton
Hi streets, was made to hold eight hundred prisoners; its pews
were ripped out, and used probably for fuel; its mahogany pulpit
was sent to London, and put in a chapel there, and a floor was
i | | laid across from one gallery to the other. Bayonet marks are
Hit yet discernible on the pillars ; and thuse walls that had rever-
neil berated with the praises of the Most High, then resounded with
| li curses and blasphemy. In the Middle Dutch Church, says

Pintard, ‘‘ the prisoners taken on Long Island, and at Fort

ee AIT VIE Oe nie en eee eR Coe cn

Me Washington, sick, wounded and well, were all indiscriminately

l
eH |
| | huddled together, by hundreds and thousands. Large numbers
i) i e.
}

eae

of them died by disease—and some were undoubtedly poisoned

We eeCHAPTER X. 105

by inhuman attendants, for the sake of their watches or silver

buekles. Soon afterwards it was turned into a riding-school

to train dragoon horses.

The floor was taken up and the

ground covered with tan bark. A pole ran across the middle

for the horses to leap over.

The glass was taken from the

windows, and the shutters unhung.”
A prisoner taken at Fort Washington, who was confined in

the New Bridewell, says—‘On Thursday morning they

brought us a little provision, which was the first morsel we

got to eat or drink after eating our breakfast on Saturday

morning. We never drew as much provision for three days’

allowance as a man would eat at a common meal. Iwas there

three months during that imclement season, and never saw

any fire except what was in the lamps of the city. There was

not a pane of glass in the windows, and nothing to keep out

the cold except the iron grates.” The old City Hall stood on

the site of the present Custom House, and was converted into

a guard-house, for the main cuard of the city. It had dun-

geons and prisons below ;

and a court room on the second

floor, where the refugee clergy preached during the latter part

of the war. At first, civil offenders were confined here ; but

subsequently whaleboatmen and robbers.
The New Jail, or ‘‘ the Provost, now the Hall of Records,

was

destined for the more notorious rebels, civil, naval and

military. An admission into this modern bastile was enough

to appal the stoutest heart.

door was Capt. Cunningham’s quarters ;
At the entrance door two sentinels

was the guard-room.

were always posted, by day and night.
4* K

On the right hand of the main
opposite to which

Two more on the firstaA eg Ae LEE UU EE EERE LED E LIE I EL IES:

nA

 

110 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

and second barricades, which were grated, barred and chained
also at the rear door, and on the platform at the grated door;
at the foot of the second flight of steps leading to the rooms
and cells in the second and third stories. When a prisoner,
escorted by soldiers, was led into the hall, the whole guard
was paraded, and he was delivered over with all formality to
Capt. Cunningham or his deputy, and questioned as to his
name, rank, age, &c., all of which were entered in a record
book. What with the bristling of arms, unbolting of bars
and locks, clanking of enormous iron chains, and a vestibule
dark as Erebus, the unfortunate captive might well shrink as
he crossed the threshold of that door which possibly closed
on him for life. The northeast chamber, turning to the left,
on the second floor, was appropriated to officers, and charac-
In the

day time the packs and blankets of the prisoners were sus-

ters of superior rank, and was called Congress Hall.

pended around the walls—every precaution being used to keep
the rooms ventilated, and the walls and floors clean, to pre-
vent jail fever ; and as the Provost was generally crowded with
American prisoners or British culprits of every description,
it is really wonderful that infection never broke out within its
walls. In this gloomy abode were incarcerated at different
periods, many American officers and citizens of distinction,
awaiting, with sickening hope, the protracted period of their
liberation. Could these dumb walls speak, what scenes might
they not disclose! The Captain and his deputies were enabled
to fare sumptuously, by dint of curtailing the prisoners’ ra-
tions, exchanging good for bad provisions, and other embezzle-

ments.’: CHAPTER X. 11]

Many of the American officers who were prisoners in New
York, were paroled in January, 1777, and billeted on the
inhabitants of Flatbush, New Lots, Flatlands and Gravesend
on Long Island, Congress agreeing to pay two dollars a
week for their board. The British soldiers also, who in sum-
mer encamped in tents, when the army retired, on the ap-
proach of winter, from active service in the field, were usually
distributed in the dwellings of the inhabitants within the
British lines. An officer first visited each house, and in pro-
portion to its size, chalked on the door the number of soldiers
‘+ must receive. The first notice the hostess received of this

‘ntrusion was the address: ‘¢ Madam, I have come to take a

eA T

billet on your house.” Their hammocks, made of boards
stripped from some fence or outbuilding, were ranged around
the room, one tier above another. The best houses were re-
served as quarters for the officers. In this way American

women were forced into the society of British officers, and in

OEE ee AL

order to conciliate their good will and protection, would invite
them to tea, and show them other civilities. Some of them
thus obtained influence which they used to alleviate the hard-
ships suffered by their countrymen.

Col. Graydon, a prisoner taken at Fort Washington, thus
describes the living at Flatbush, where he was billeted on a
Dutch family : “‘ Though we were in general civilly enough
received, it cannot be supposed we were very welcome to our
Low Dutch hosts, whose habits were extremely parsimonious
and whose winter provision was barely sufficient for them-
selves. Had they been sure of receiving the two dollars a

week, it might have reconciled them. They were, however, 4112 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

people who seemed thoroughly disposed to submit to any power

that might impose upon them: and whatever might have

been their propensities at an earlier stage of the contest, they

were now the loyal subjects of His Majesty George III. Their

houses and beds we found clean ; but their living extremely

poor. A sorry wash made of a sprinkling of bohea, and the

darkest sugar on the verge of fluidity, with half-baked bread,

(fuel being among the scarcest articles at Flatbush,) and a

little stale butter, constituted our breakfast. At our first

coming, a small piece of pickled beef was occasionally boiled

| for dinner, but to the beef, which was soon consumed, there
succeeded clippers or clams; and our unvaried supper was

| supon or mush, sometimes with skimmed milk, but more gen-

| : | erally with buttermilk blended with molasses, which was kept
i | for weeks in a churn, as swill is saved for hogs. I found it,
ion however, after a little use, very eatable ; and supper soon

became my best meal.”

ae

i ih The mother of Col. Graydon came from Pennsylvania and
waited on Sir William Howe, to solicit permission for her son
i il to go home on his parole. The General, influenced by sym-
Rn pathy for her feclings, after some hesitation gave the desired

| permission. ‘T'he captives who remained having been kept in
the dark as to the state of public affairs, one of them furnish-
ed Graydon with a kind of cypher by which intelligence could

can be conveyed to him. For instance, a lady named was to sig-

 

a nify the American army; if that was prosperous, the fact
Hak was to be indicated by announcing her health and charming

looks ; and there was a scale in the key by which intelligence

ela sti das aginst TE ETE EEE EE

might be graduated. Others of the prisoners owed their re-CHAPTER X. 113

lease to female influence. Dr. Z. Platt, imprisoned in New
York in 1777, was restored to liberty through the application
of his daughter to Sir Henry Clinton ; and in many instances
clothing and provisions were brought to the captives by their
anxious female relatives.

The women of New York did their part bravely in reliey-
ing the wants and sufferings of the prisoners. The case of the
Quakeress, Deborah Franklin, who was banished from the city
by the British commandant for her liberality in thus doing,
was but one among many. The services of Mrs. Whetten
are noticed in some of the public journals, and were ac-
knowledged after the war with gratitude by Washington
himself. The British were sometimes quartered upon her,
and she was required to board many of the prisoners,
who had reason to remember her generous kindness. She
made it her daily business to prepare food for the American
soldiers, and sent it regularly to the prisons, as well as mush
to the hospitals, using thus all the Indian meal she could ob-
tain. She went sometimes with her daughters to see the
prisoners, and encouraged them by cheerful conversation.
Occasionally they visited the Provost, where the marshals
Cunningham, would now and then show his displeasure by
kicking over the baskets of food or vessels of soup they
brought, and beating the unfortunate prisoners with his keys.
Sometimes he received them with a surly courtesy, making
himself amends, however, by indulging in boastful language.
He told a gentleman that these ladies were the “‘ worst rebels
in New York.” They continually provided not only provisions

but clothes for the use of the captive soldiers, not heeding the
K*114 DQMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

surliness of their jailors, or the risk of indignity to themselves

i Sometimes they went to a guard-house close to the old Sugar-
house, and the sergeant permitted them to sit at the window
while the prisoners came into the yard below and talked with
them. Not satisfied with such daily ministrations, Mrs

Whetten often had provisions conveyed to the unfortunate
inmates of the prison ships. A boat was usually sent to re-
ceive the supplies,

fe | The wife of a prisoner thrown into the Provost in 1777,
Hi came alone from Nyack to the city to visit him and bring provi-
sions, leaving six children at home. She was detained four
months, and every day took her husband his meals, which he
: shared with other prisoners. Such and other acts of kind-
| ' {| ness were continually performed by women, not only in New
York, but wherever their good offices were needed. They
visited hospitals daily, and provisions were carried from their
stores to the captive whose only means of recompense was
the blessing of those who were ready to perish. Many in the

country raised grain, gathered it, made bread, and carried it

See eee ee ee

eh to their relatives in prison or in the army, accompanying the
‘supply with exhortations never to abandon the cause of their
country.

The prisoners who had been taken at the battle of Sara-

 

toga fared comparatively well. They were ordered to set out
for Virginia at the approach of the winter of 1778-9.
ei : : : .

al || Madame de Ricdesel mentions in her letters several instances

ve in which the republicanism of the inhabitants of the country

EE
7g sl AEG Gen Ser be ep eugene p enema

through which they passed put her to much inconvenience

At one place the hostess refused to sell the royalists fresh. OTT EI LS LE ON eee Bi - ~ a bt
a _ SSS eee - isda» 5 4 a, : bio

      
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER X. 115

meat, but was softened by the offer of a paper of tea. A day
or two before they reached their place of destination, their
stock of provisions gave out. Coming to a house, they begged
for some dinner ; but all assistance was denied them, with
many imprecations upon the royalists. “ Seeing some maize,
I begged our hostess to give me some of it to make a little
bread. She replied that she needed it for her black people.
‘They work for us,’ she added, ‘ and you come to kill us.’
Capt Edmonstone offered to pay her one or two guineas for
a little wheat, but she refused.”

The captive army was quartered in the neighborhood of
Charlottesville, Virginia—a few miles from the town. Bar-
racks were built for them on the summit and brow of a ridge,
and the surrounding land was laid out in several hundred
gardens—each enclosed with a paling, and cultivated. The
officers rented houses and settled their families, most of them
purchasing cows and sheep, and occupying themselves in farm-
ing. Their society was sought by gentlemen residing in that
portion of country ; they cultivated the arts and amused them-
selves with literature, and the time passed not without enjoy-
ment. The region was remarkably healthy, and the soldiers
were generally quiet and contented. The Baroness was much
visited, and remembered long afterwards the hospitality and
kindness received on a subsequent journey northward. ‘‘ The
loyalists,’’ she says, “‘ received us with frank hospitality from
political sympathy, and those of opposite principles gave us a
friendly welcome, merely from habit ; for in that country it
would be considered a crime to behave otherwise towards

strangers.”no Eanes

Mcimuaionnneemnn Lami

ee aes
GZ ee ee re ae

 

CHAPTESE xt

BRITISH PRISON SHIPS——-THE ILLICIT TRADE ON LONG

ISLAND SOUND—WHALEBOAT WARFARE:

Tue Prison ships were intended for sailors taken on the
high seas, while the landsmen were generally confined in
churches and jails. The transports that brought the soldiers
of Britain to Staten Island in 1776 were the first prison-
ships. On board these, as they lay in Gravesend Bay, the
American prisoners taken at the battle of Long Island were
kept for a few weeks, till the British were in possession of
New York. They were then removed thither, and the vessels
were anchored in the North and East Rivers. In a year or
two the prison ships were mostly moored a few rods from the
Long Island shore, in a retired nook called the Wallebocht.
Here, sheltered from wind and wave, lay in succession a dozen
such as the Whit-

 

old hulks, usually two or three at a time
by, Good Hope, Falmouth, &c. Two were burned by the pri-
soners themselves, either in the extremity of despair, or the
vain hope of liberty. In 1780 the Jersey was stationed in
the Wallebocht. The large numbers confined in her, the
great mortality among them, and the length of time she was

used as a prison ship, have given such notoriety to her inglo-faith oc’ Lb Stas ak, Gis sl Bn EE z a ee Seat

     
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   

CHAPTER XI. 117

rious name, that in popular story she seems to have been tho
only prison ship during the whole war ; while the accumulated
horrors and miseries of all the others have been laid on the
ill-fated Jersey alone. The number that perished was doubt-
less fearfully great, and needed no exaggeration.

It would be impossible to convey an idea of the sufferings of
the prisoners, whether occasioned by sickness, neglect of
cleanliness, or the want of wholesome food and comfortable
clothing. Although hospital ships were provided to which the
sick were removed, yet from the malignity of disease, des-
pondency, or the want of good nursing and proper medical
attendance, they perished by scores. It does not appear that
there was any systematic plan of charity formed by the people of
New York for their relief. No female ever visited those pes-
tilential hulks to administer aid, or bestow encouragement, or
sympathy. All was solitary, sullen gloom, varied only by
the taunts and imprecations of their unfeeling guards.

During the whole war there was more or less difficulty in
exchanging prisoners, each party fearing the other would get
some advantage. The captives, meanwhile, suffered, lan-
guished and died. The long detention of prisoners must be
in part attributed to Congress, who were unwilling to release
healthy British soldiers for emaciated Americans, mostly, too,
privateersmen, and not engaged in the Continental service ;
for this would give the enemy permanent strength without an
equivalent. Often, too, the balance was against the Ameri-
cans ; they had no prisoners to give in exchange ; for although

their privateers captured numbers of British vessels, yet theirLAAN SS

 

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

  
 

118 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

|
| |
| | | crews often enlisted in the American vessels, or were suffered
to go at large.
The Jersey was originally a sixty-gun ship ; but becoming
unfit for sea service, she was dismantled in 1776, and lay as a
| store ship at New York. In 1780, when the Good Hope was
burned, she was removed to the Wallebocht and used as a
prison ship till the close of the war. She was then suffered to
go to decay; worms destroyed her bottom, and she sank.
| i Her ribs lay exposed at low water for more than twenty years,
and are now covered by the United States Navy Yard.

ll The crew of this vessel consisted of a captain, two mates,
a steward, cook, and a dozen sailors. There was also a ouard
of about twelve old invalid marines, and about thirty soldiers.
Near her lay three hospital ships—the Scorpion, Strombolo
and Hunter. When a prisoner was first brought on deck, his
name and rank were registered, and he was searched for money
and weapons, but allowed to retain his clothes and bedding.

| He was then ordered down into the hold, where he found

Mh \ perhaps a thousand human beings, generally covered with

Hl { ib i rags and filth, their faces pale with disease and emaciated

iv i] with hunger and anxiety, He joined a “ mess” of six per-

ie sons, who every morning, at the ringing of the steward’s bell,

oan received their allowance of biscuit, peas, and beef, or pork,

He i which was cooked in a large copper boiler. Oatmeal, flour,

butter, and suet were occasionally added, but no vegetables.

The food was usually deficient in quantity and quality; the

mene biscuit mouldy and crawling with worms; the peas damaged
y 5 ) Aen

 

the butter rancid, the meal and flour often sour, the pork and

 

beef unsavory; yet the highest prices were charged to theCHAPTER XI. 119

King by the rapacious commissaries, who exchanged good for
bad provisions, and by curtailing the rations, and other em-
bezzlements, amassed large fortunes, at the expense of the
health and life of the helpless captives.

Those who contrived to conceal a little money were enabled
to procure, at exorbitant prices, such small articles as bread,
sugar, tobacco, thread, needles, combs, &e., sold by an old
woman, who daily approached the ship in her little boat.
Every morning the prisoners brought up their bedding to be
aired, washed the floors, and spent the day on deck. At sun-
set the cry was, “ Down, rebels, down!” the hatches were
fastened, and the prisoners lay down in rows to sleep, if sleep
they could, amid the mingled horror of sighs and groans, of
putrid air and stifling heat.

When a prisoner died, his companions sewed up the body
in a blanket, (if he had one,) lowered it into a boat, and were
allowed to go on shore under a guard. There they made a
slight excavation in the bank, or on the shore, in which the
body was hastily buried. Many of these bodies were after-
wards uncovered by the action of wind or wave, and the bones
lay for years whitening in the sun. In 1808, nearly twenty
hogsheads were collected and deposited in one common se-
pulchre.

The prisoners were at first allowed the free use of the deck,
till a successful attempt at escape, after which they were
generally kept below, only a few being allowed to come up at
a time for fresh air and exercise. They were under the
watch of a guard who constantly paced the deck, yet escapes

= * ry hn 4
were not unfrequent. One evening, in 1777, a boat happenedMie eae

Crete poe ee

pee pee ee

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

120 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

to be fastened to the vessel’s side. Three or four prisoners
quietly let themselves down into her, cast her off, and let her
drift astern of the ship. They were lucky enough to get
clear unperceived, and to reach the Jersey shore in safety.
Then flight was soon discovered, but the darkness rendered
pursuit uvavailing.

There vere several other instances of the kind. Jn 1779,
at midnight, nine sea captains and two privates escaped from
the Good Hope in the North River. They confined the mate,
disarmed the sentinels, and hoisted out the boat, which was on
deck. They had scarcely got clear when the alarm was given,
and they were fired on by three ships, but not hurt. In the
cold winter of 1780 fifteen prisoners escaped on the ice in the
Kast River. Others made the attempt, but being unable to
endure the cold were retaken and carried back. One was
frozen to death before he reached the shore. A prisoner on
board the Falmouth, having as if by accident thrown his hat
overboard, begged leave to go after it in a small boat which
lay alongside. A sentinel with only his side-arms on got into
the boat with four of the prisoners. Having reached the hat,
they secured the sentinel, and made for the Jersey shore,
which they gained, though pursued by several armed boats,
and fired at from the shipping.

The prisoners in the Jersey, it is said, had obtained a crow
bar, which was kept concealed in the berth of a trusty officer,
and used to break off port gratings in stormy nights. A
number who were good swimmers thus escaped. The Rey.
Thomas Andros, of Berkley, Mass., when a young man, en-

listed on board an American privateer, but was soon afterCHAPTER XI. 12]

captured and incarcerated in the Jersey. Hence he made
his escape by obtaining leave to go on shore for water, and
straying away from his guard. In his wanderings to the east
end of Long Island, he gratefully acknowledges the protection
he received. ‘‘ I came,” he says in his Journal, ‘‘ to a re-
spectable dwelling-house and entered it. Among the inmates
were a decent woman and a tailor. To the woman I express-
ed my want of something to nourish my feeble frame, telling
her if she would give me a morsel, it would be a mere act of
charity. She made no objection, asked no questions, but
promptly furnished me with the dish of light food I desired

Expressing my obligations to her, I rose to depart. But
going round through another room, she met me in the front en-
try, placed a hat on my head, put an apple pie in my hand, and
said, ‘ You will want this before you get through the woods.’
She would not stay to hear my thanks, and I supposed she
was satisfied that I had escaped from prison, and if she grant-
ed me any succor, knowing this, it might cost her family the
confiscation of their estate. She did not therefore wish to ask
any questions, or hear me explain who I was, in the hearing of
the tailor, who might turn informer.

“¢ Some time after, in Suffolk County, being repulsed from
one dwelling, I entered another, and informed the mistress
of the house of my wants. By the cheerfulness and good
nature depicted in her countenance and first movements, I
knew my suit was granted, and I had nothing more to say
than to apprise her I was penniless. In a few moments she
placed on the table a bowl of bread and milk, a dried blue
6 Leae ee ee

 

Ti rl es Unger agg ee ge enti

 

 

  

122

 

DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

fish roasted, and a mug of cider—and bade me sit down and
eat. It was now growing dark, so I went but a short distance
further, entered a house and begged the privilege of lodging
by the fire. There was no one in the house but the man and
his wife. Before it became late in the evening the man took
his Bible and read a chapter. He then arose and offered up
his grateful acknowledgments and supplications to God
through the Mediator.

a safe and hospitable retreat.

I now began to think I had got into
They had before made many
inquiries such as indicated that they fult tenderly and took an
interest in my welfare. I confessed my situation to them.
All was silence. It took some time to recover themselves
from a flood of tears. At last the kind woman said, ‘ Let us
go and bake his clothes.’ No sooner said than the man
seized a brand of fire and threwit into the oven. The woman
provided a clean suit of clothes to supply the place of mine
till they had purified them by fire. The work done, a clean
bed was laid down on which I was to rest, and rest I did as in
a new world, for I had got rid of a swarm of cannibals that
were eating me up alive! In the morning | took my leave
of this dear family, with a gratitude that for fifty years has
suffered no abatement. Ina week after I reached Sag Har-
bor, where I found others of. my fellow prisoners who had also
escaped, and were waiting for an opportunity to cross the
Sound undiscovered by British guard-boats.

We happily
succeeded, and reached home in October, 1781.’*
* For a detailed account of the sufferings of American prisoners, the

reader is referred to the History of the British prisons and prison-shi ps

at New York, in “Revolutionary Incidents of Long Island? by HenryCHAPTER XI. 123

The escape of seven prisoners in March, 1781, from a.
prison-ship at Charleston, furnishes another illustration. The
boat was sent some distance up Cooper River for fresh water,
two British soldiers acting as a guard. The prisoners rose on
the guard, disarmed them, and effected their escape. After
encountering many difficulties, they reached a plantation be-

longing to Col. Pinckney, and were received with the most

 

cordial hospitality by Mrs. Pinckney, who, though alone—her
husband not daring to venture home—and plundered of every-
thing by the royalists, so that she depended on her negroes
for daily supplies, was ready to share what she had with them.
From this place they made their way to the residence of Mrs.
Motte, who gave them lodging in an outhouse, where they
were hid during the day, for it was thought unsafe to let the
blacks on the premises know of their presence. She sent them
provisions every day, and often paid them visits, accompanied
by a young lady whose residence was on the north side of the
Congaree River, and who was ona visit to her house. ‘* These
ladies,” said one of the prisoners, ‘‘ were elegant and polished
in their manners; we were ragged, dirty, rough-looking fel-
lows; yet, notwithstanding our forlorn condition, they treated
us as equals, spoke to us kindly, and made us feel that we had
not served our country in vain.”

The young lady at length proposed to assist the men in
getting across the river. She told them she and Mrs. Motte

had decided that she was to go home the next day, and make

Onderdonk, Jr., Esq. The same work gives a full account of the ade

ventures of the whaleboatmen,emer a a

ee

eer aide TEE EEE

 

 

 

124 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

arrangements to send some of her negroes to the river side on
the following night with canoes to convey them across. Ac-
cordingly, on the appointed night Mrs. Motte’s trusty house
servant came and conducted them to the landing. Several
blacks were there with canoes; they were taken over the
river, and led up to the overseer’s house, where a table was
set out, covered with abundance of provisions. Bedclothing
was also furnished, so clean and fresh, that the hardy travel-
lers would not soil the snow-white shects and quilts by sleep-
ing in them, but stretched themselves before the fire In the
morning, before they had all risen, breakfast was on the table,
and they were invited to take for the journey as much as they
could conveniently carry. In two days more they were safely
sheltered in the upper country.

The associations that had existed for many years against
the use of foreign goods, and in favor of wearing homespun,
instead of foreign silks and calicoes, had so discouraged their
importation that the Revolution found the country almost des-
titute of all articles of dress and luxury. But after the line
of separation had been drawn between Britain and her colo-
nies, there existed no longer the same reasons of patriotism
for abstaining, and people felt disposed to indulge their taste
and vanity in the use of articles so long prohibited. Tea
from China was found to be more fragrant than that prepared
from sage and sassafras. Silks, calicoes, gauzes, and ribbons
resumed their former place in woman’s estimation, and the
portraits and satires of the day show that her affections were
as much set on dress as before or since.

Those within the British lines had no difficulty in procuringCHAPTER XI. 125

imported articles in exchange for the products of the soil,
which were in unprecedented demand for the armies quartered
by the King in our country. With those outside the lines the
case was different. An occasional prize taken by some New
England privateer might enliven some seaport for a day or
two by the display of foreign tinsel and finery, but the supply
was totally inadequate. Although it was the policy of the
contending parties to prohibit any and all intercourse with
their enemies, yet the calculating avarice of the trader over-
came the dictates. of patriotism. Accordingly, a new line of
business sprung up, called the Illicit Trade, which prevailed
extensively on Long Island Sound during the whole war.

Every device which the cunning of smugglers could con-
ceive, was resorted to. Goods were bought in the city of
New York, ostensibly for the purpose of retailing to the
King’s subjects on Long Island. These were carted to some
solitary harbor on the Sound, and secretly put on board small
vessels that lay there concealed. With the same secresy these
goods were “run” into Connecticut, and being quietly dis-
posed of to petty dealers, found a ready sale at large profits.
The vigilance of keen-eyed smugglers was too active for the
drowsy watch of government officials, who also too often con-
niyed at what they could not prevent, and shared in the pro-
fits. In 1783 a patriotic Connecticut mob seized a boat. be-
longing to an American officer, who had engaged in the illicit
trade, dragged it to the public market place, and burnt it in
sicht of a large concourse of spectators, who closed the bon-
fire with three hearty cheers.

In the Revolutionary war the American navy was merely
L*SSO

 

     
   
  
 
  
  
    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
    

126 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

|

|
| | nominal. Its place was partially supplied by privateers and

| whaleboats. New York city, and Staten and Long Islands
being in the enemy’s possession, the partisan warfare carried
on by American whaleboats against the King’s subjects resid-
i ing there, forms an episode in our history.

These boats were a sharp-built craft, twenty or thirty feet
long, and without decks, impelled by from four to thirty-two
oars. Being light, they could be borne on the shoulders and
i | concealed in bushes along the shore. In a calm they would
| shoot out from their lurking places on the Jersey or Connec-
ticut shore, intercept a coasting vessel, and by the velocity of
their oars elude the pursuit of British guard-ships. They
were commissioned by the States to cruize against British
vessels, and were limited to high water mark; but this line
on various pretexts was overpassed.
ith | A party of “rebels” was often accustomed to cross by
| \ ie night from the main to Long Island, transport their light
He i | boats to some neighboring thicket, march inland, plunder a
store, surprise a British outpost, or seize some distinguished

ne loyalist; then hasten back to their boats ere the day dawned,

EE a Se
oe S Sg -

I
eared | or the alarm could be spread. Sometimes the British retali-

ated ; as when they surprised and burned all the whaleboats in

 

the Raritan, or carried off Gen. Silliman and other prominent

whigs. One Sunday they made prisoners of a whole congrega-
tion of worshippers at Darien, leading forty men, with the
pastor, into captivity. Those national and very important
expeditions from Connecticut to Setauket, Lloyd’s Neck, Sag

mene te [farbor, Fort St. George and Slongo—all on Long Island,

Cane i aes ue EEE

8 were accomplished by means of whaleboats. But in timeCHAPTER XI. 127

their crews became freebooters, who plundered public and
private property, without distinction of friend or foe, till whig
and tory made common cause against them. Several bloody
encounters thus ensued. After this, the system was abandon-
ed by the States, though pursued by a few daring outlaws till
the close of the war. After the war it was ascertained that
some of these illicit traders had been spies in the secret ser-
vice of General Washington, who often boasted that he had
better intelligence of the enemy’s movements on Long Island
than at any other place:

The frauds and robberies growing out of this system were
numerous, as might be expected. Sometimes the owner of a
well-filled store on the Island would arrange with some
friendly whaleboatman from the main to cross the Sound by
night, march inland, and carry off his goods, which were then
transported and sold in Connecticut for their mutual benefit
T'o save appearances, reports were spread next day of an ex-
tensive robbery by rebel whaleboats, the goods were described
and rewards offered! Even the State of New York, in want
of clothing for her soldiers, was forced to stoop from her dig-
nity so far as to purchase British cloth procured in a clandes-
tine way by means of her secret agents. The State of Con-
necticut, too, connived for a time at this illicit traffic, till the
abuses that grew out of it became too wide-spread for longer
toleration, and the permission was revoked in November, 1781.

The British, also, allowed this trade when it suited their
interest. In 1778, when they were in want of provisions for
carrying on the war, Gov. Tryon proposed throuzh the Kev.

Mr. Buell, to give rum, sugar, tea, and whatever might pleaseSAS

 

  

128 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

the ladies, in exchange for American beef. It is certain that
a the constant want of cattle and farming produce for the Bri-
tish army, and of silks and India goods for the people of New
England, kept up a very active illicit trade during the whole
i war.

| Kver and anon the British commandant at New York, the
great entrepot for foreign goods, issued his proclamations, and
did all in his power to restrict this trade. No countryman
was allowed to buy and carry out of the city any articles,
unless he was known to be a loyal subject. Even then, the
| quantity of every article purchased must be distinctly speci-
fied in his permit, which was examined by a guard as he left
the city. Stories are told of country girls who went shopping
i | vi in New York, and being tempted to buy some finery not pre-
me viously enumerated in their permit, were forced to leave it at
the ferry, a prize to the wife or sweetheart of the ungallant

I NN guard,
All prohibited goods, when seized, were confiscated, and
part given to the informer as an encouragement to watchful-

ness. But here, too, there was collusion. The owner of a

eet oe

ist Wire | boat laden with Huropean and India goods would set out from

 

the Long Island shore and allow himself to be captured by

 

some seemingly vigilant American cruiser. The goods were
| then taken to New England, condemned in a court of Admi-

ralty, sold at exorbitant prices, and the profits divided be-

nr pion Aine a in ne Pane

tween the partners in this nefarious trafic. In this way British

| merchandise became so abundant, that in 1783 there were

 

ee ict auction sales at Norwich, Connecticut, ‘‘ twice a week, of a

CLO

° e 99
variety of European and other goods by piece or pattern.OF AE Bk iL,

THE FRENCH ALLIANCE—THE MISCHIANZA—BATTLE OF

MONMOUTH—CONDITION OF THE COUNTRY.

Tue British ministry had expected that the war would soon
be terminated by the conquest of the rebellious colonies. But
the news of Burgoyne’s defeat lowered their hopes, and dis-
posed them to more conciliatory measures. Commissioners
were sent to America to propose an amicable adjustment of
difficulties. It was too late, however, to offer full redress of
the grievances formerly complained of. Congress refused even
to negotiate till the national independence should be acknow-
ledged. The gloom that had brooded over the country was
now turned into joy by the news that a treaty of alliance had
been concluded with France, that power recognizing the inde-
pendence of the United States. The daughter of Lord Stin-
ling writes from Valley Forge to a friend— We have nothing
here but rejoicings ; every one looks happy, and seems proud
of the share he has had in establishing the name of America
as a nation.”? The event was publicly celebrated in various
parts of the country.

This treaty, which was ratified by Congress May 4th, 1778,

secured the aid of France to the United States, and was of
6*

 

 
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
   

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aime caddie ee

 

 

SESE ASS

 

i30 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

course equivalent to a declaration of war on her part against
Great Britain. Preparations were made by those two nations
for the impending contest. It was determined in England
immediately to evacuate Philadelphia, and concentrate the
royal forces in the city and harbor of New York.

The officers of Sir William Howe, in Philadelphia, gave
him a splendid entertainment as a parting compliment, just
before his relinquishment of the command to Sir Henry Clin-
ton, and his departure for England. This singular fete was
called the Mischianza—an Italian word signifying a medley or
mixture, applied to a series of entertainments. It was given
on the 18th of May. The following description of it is
abridged from one said to have been written by Maj. André:

It commenced with a grand regatta in three divisions. In
the first was the Ferret galley, on board of which there were
several general officers and ladies. In the centre, the Hussar
galley bore Sir William and Lord Howe, Sir Henry Clinton,
their suite, and many ladies. The Cornwallis galley brought
up the rear—Gen. Knyphhausen and suite, three British gen-
erals, and ladies being on board. On each quarter of these
galleys, and forming their division, were five flat boats lined
with green cloth, and filled with ladies and gentlemen. In
front were three flat boats, with bands of music. Six barges
rowed about each flank, to keep off the swarm of boats in the
river. The galleys were dressed in colors and streamers ; the
ships lying at anchor were magnificently decorated ; and the
transport ships with colors flying, which extended in a line
the whole length of the city, were crowded, as well as the

wharves, with spectators. The rendezvous was at Knight’sCHAPTER Xt. 131

wharf, at the northern extremity of the city. The company

embarked at half-past four, the three divisions moving slowly

down to the music. Arrived opposite Market wharf, at a
signal all rested on their oars, and the music played “ God
save the King,” answered by three cheers from the vessels.

The landing was at the Old Fort, a little south of the

town, and in front of the building prepared for the company,
a few hundred yards from the water. The regatta was
gazed at from the wharves and warehouses by the unin-
vited population of the city. When the general’s barge push-
ed for shore, a salute of seventeen guns was fired from his
Majesty’s ship Roebuck; and after an interval, seventeen
‘rom the Vigilant. The procession advanced through an ave-
nue formed by two files of grenadiers, each supported by a
line of light horse. The avenue led to a spacious lawn, lined
with troops, and prepared for the exhibition of a tilt and tour-
nament. The music, and managers with favors of white and
blue ribbons in their breasts, led the way, followed by the
generals and the rest of the company.

In front, the building bounded the view through a vista
formed by two triumphal arches in a line with the landing
place. Two pavilions, with rows of benches rising one above
another, received the ladies, while the gentlemen ranged them-
selves on each side. On the front seat of each pavilion were
seven young ladies as princesses, with Turkish habits, and
wearing in their turbans the favors meant for the knights who
contended. The sound of trumpets was heard in the dis-
tance ; and a band of knights in ancient habits of white and

red silk, mounted on gray horses caparisoned in the same

   
 
    
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 

DR OeCee eet

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Sena crc ae ee ce eee

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132 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

colors, attended by squires on foot, herald and trumpeters,
entered the lists. Lord Cathcart was chief of these knights,
and appeared in honor of Miss Auchmuty. One of his es-
quires bore his lanee, and another his shield; and two black
slaves in blue and white silk, with silver clasps on their hare
necks and arms, held his stirrups. The band made the cir-
cult of the square, saluting the ladies, and then ranged them-
selves in a line with the pavilion in which were the ladies of
their device. Their herald, after a flourish of trumpets, pro-
claimed a challenge ; asserting the superiority of the ladies of
the Blended Rose, in wit, beauty and accomplishment, and
offering to prove it by deeds, according to the ancient laws of
chivalry.

At the third repetition of the challenge, another herald and
trumpeters advanced from the other side of the square, dress-
ed in black and orange, and proclaimed defiance to the chal-
lengers, in the name of the knights of the Burning Mountain.
Capt. Watson, the chief, appeared in honor of Miss Franks ;

his device—a heart with a wreath of flowers; his motto

 

 

Love and Glory. This band also rode round the lists, and
drew up in front of the White Knights. The gauntlet was
thrown down and lifted ; the encounter took place. After the
fourth encounter, the two chiefs, spurring to the centre, fought
singly, till the marshal of the ficld rushed between, and de-
elared that the ladies of the Blended Rose and the Burning
Mountain were satisfied with the proofs of love and valor
already given, and commanded their knights to desist. The
bands then filed off in different directions, saluting the ladies

as they approached the pavilions.CHAPTER X.1. 133

The company then passed in procession through triumphal
arches built in the Tuscan order, to a garden in front of the
building ; and thence ascended to a spacious hall, painted in
imitation of Sienna marble. In this hall and apartment ad-
joining, were tea and refreshments ; and the knights, kneeling,
received their favors from the ladies. On entering the room
appropriated for the faro table, a cornucopia was seen filled
with fruit and flowers ; another appeared in going out, shrunk,
reversed and empty. The next advance was to a ball-room
painted in pale blue, pannelled with gold, with dropping fes-
toons of flowers ; the surbase pink, with drapery festooned in
blue. Highty-five mirrors, decked with flowers and ribbons,
reflected the light from thirty four branches of wax lights.
On the same floor were four drawing rooms with sideboards
of refreshments, also decorated and lighted up. The dan-
cing continued till ten; the windows were then thrown open,
and the fireworks commenced with a magnificent bouquet of
rockets.

At twelve, large folding doors, which had hitherto been
concealed, were suddenly thrown open, discovering a splendid
and spacious saloon, richly painted and brilliantly illuminated ;
the mirrors and branches decorated, as also the supper table,
which was set out, according to Major André’s account, with
four hundred and thirty covers, and twelve hundred dishes.
When supper was ended, the herald and trumpeters of the
Blended Rose entered the saloon, and proclaimed the health
of the king and royal family—followed by that of the knights

and ladies; each toast being accompanied by a flourish of
M

a oe A OL LL CDE POO DO POE TOI134 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

| | music. The company then returned to the ball-room, and
the dancing continued till four o’clock.

This was the most splendid entertainment ever given by
officers to their general. The next day the mirrors and lus-
tres borrowed from the citizens were sent home, with their
ornaments. The pageant of a night was over; Sir William
Howe departed. The folly and extravagance displayed were
apparent not only to the foes of Britain; it did not escape
i satire in England as well as America. It is interesting to
| contrast the situation of the two hostile armies at this time,
| and to follow the destiny of the revellers. In one month
knights and army marched from the city they had occupied.
Gen. Wayne writes, on the 12th of July: “ Tell those Phi-
ladelphia ladies who attended Howe’s assemblies and levees,
that the heavenly, sweet, pretty redcoats—the accomplished
| gentlemen of the guards and grenadiers, have been humbled
i i on the plains of Monmouth. The knights of the Blended
et Roses, and of the Burning Mount, have resigned their laurels
HS to rebel officers, who will lay them at the feet of ¢hose virtuous
at daughters of America who cheerfully gave up ease and afflu-

ence in a city, for liberty and peace of mind in a cottage.”

ei ee

 

But the empire of beauty was not to be overthrown by

political changes. The belles who had graced the féte found

 

the reproach cast on them by indignant patriots speedily for-

LA A AAMT IO Mpeg wegen een

i
Hi : “ ‘
. | | gotten. When the Americans, on their return to the capital,

ait gave a ball to their own and the French officers, and it was

egestas

debated whether the ladies of the Mischianza should be honor-

 

ed with invitations, the question was soon decided by the re-Sa ana ata Ai inet SAS ge [See eee

     
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

CHAPTER XII. 13

flection that it would be impossible to make up an agreeable
company without them.

One of the commissioners sent under parliamentary author-
ity to settle the differences between Great Britain and Ame-

rica—Goy. Johnstone,

 

employed Mrs. Ferguson, a most
accomplished lady, whose husband was in the British service,
to confer with Gen. Reed on the subject. He requested her
to inform Gen. Reed, that if he would exert his influence to
settle the dispute, “he might command ten thousand guineas
and the best post in the government.’? Mrs. Ferguson was
desirous of seeing an end put to the horrors of civil war, and
when the British left the city, sent for Gen. Reed, and re-
peated the proposition to him. His reply has become cele-
brated: ‘ I am not worth purchasing; but such as I am, the
King of Great Britain is not rich enough to do it.”? Congress
was indignant at this attempt at private bribery, and declared
it incompatible with their honor to hold any communication
with Johnstone.

The troops of General Washington followed the British
army as it retreated towards New York, and the battle of
Monmouth took place on the 28th of June. The Ameri-
cans had the advantage. Gen. Clinton drew off his troops
at night and proceeded rapidly. In this action Gen. Lee’s
inadvertence endangered the American army; he was re-
buked by Washington, and replied with disrespect. A court-
martial suspended him from his command, which he never
resun ed.

At this time, and throughout the war, the country, even at

a dis‘ance from the seat of actual warfare, was continuallyi er Se eee EE EEO ER EEE

Zee

 

 

 

 

       
    
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
  
   
 
 
   

136 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

disturbed by bands of lawless marauders, who made plunder-
ing their vocation, and greatly distressed the defenceless in-
habitants. During the two years following, the Cowboys
infested the country between the hostile armies, their robbe-
ries abounding chiefly between Peekskill and Kingsbridge.
These lurking miscreants were called Cowboys, from their
stealing cattle near the lines, which they drove to the British
in New York. They were mostly refugees, friendly to the
royal cause, and were encouraged by the British, who found
their advantage in doing so, since the whigs near the lines
often retaliated on the tories, and thus strife was kept up be-
tween neighbors and acquaintances.

The Skinners were another order of banditti, and, living
within the American lines, pretended affection for the whig
cause, though they often proved as perfidious as cruel. It
was a common remark that those who professed allegiance to
the State of New York were plundered by the Cowboys,
while those who avowed loyalism were sure to have their pro-
It is said, too, that they

often leagued for the exchange of their goods—the Skinners

perty pillaged by the Skinners.

pretending to capture the other robbers, and selling for their
mutual benefit the articles brought from New York.

During the time that the British kept. possession of New
York, the adjacent country, with the whole of Staten and
Long Island, was held under military rule. The leading whigs
were driven away, or thrown into prison, their property in
many cases being seized, and the defenceless families who re-
mained were obliged to submit to depredation and insult.

2 | e . ° > 7 . e e
Sometimes female spirit rose successfully in opposition. TheCHAPTER XII. 137

house of Mrs. Jackson, who lived on Staten Island, while her
husband was a prisoner in the Provost, was for a long time
the abode of British officers and soldiers. On one occasion a
soldier, carrying through the house a tin pail, used for milk-
ing, was asked by her what he meant to do with it. ‘‘ My
master wants to bathe his feet,’? was the insolent reply.
‘Carry it instantly back,” said she, authoritatively ; ‘‘ not
for your master’s master shall you touch what you have no
business with !”? By the exhibition of such spirit she saved
herself much inconvenience. When the Americans were on
the opposite shore, she was in the habit of sending them pro-
visions from time to time. This she was obliged to do with
the utmost secrecy ; and many a time would she set going the
mill which belonged to her husband—to allow the black man
she employed to cross the water unsuspected by the watchful
enemy. At one time, having a calf which she was anxious
to send, she kept it concealed all day under her bed, having
muzzled it to prevent its cries. She sometimes came to New
York, with friends, to visit prisoners in the Provost. They
were received on such occasions at Whitehall by a gentleman
who accompanied them to the prison, and directed them,
when they wished to give money to the captives, to drop it
silently as they went past, while he would walk just behind,
so as to screen them from the observation of the Provost-
marshal.

Some British officers quartered themselves at the house of
Mrs. Dissosway, at the west end of Staten Island. Her
husband was a prisoner; but her brother, Capt. Randolph,

who was in the American army, gave much annoyance to the
Meae

LEE L LGB OLLI SELLS BOSE GLE Es

 

  

138 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

loyalists by his frequent incursions. A tory colonel once pro-
mised her to procure the release of her husband, on condition
of her prevailing upon her brother to stay quietly at home.
‘And if I could,’’ she replied, with a look of scorn, and
drawiag up her tall figure, ‘‘ think you that General Wash-
ington has but one Capt. Randolph in his army ?”

When the house of Hendrick Onderdonk, at Roslyn, was
robbed by British soldiers, his wife resolutely went after them
about the house, telling them not to enter such a room, as her
daughter slept there. They picked up some rolls of fine goods
and hurried away—Mrs. Onderdonk following and pulling away
now and then a piece, till they were out of the house.—When
a robber grasped the throat of Martin Schenck at Manhasset,
to make him say where his treasures were hid, his wife caught
up a bellows, and so belabored the soldier that he let go his
hold and her husband escaped. When a foraging officer at
Cedar Swamp demanded of the wife of Jotham Townsend the

keys of her corn-crib, and on her refusal drew his sword, she

 

flourished an oven-peel—for she was preparing to bake bread
—at the representative of the Crown, and asked, scornfully,
“if he drew his sword upon women??? ‘The disconcerted
officer smiled, and was soon out of sight.

When the house of John Burtis, in Manhasset Valley, was
attacked by a gang of whaleboatmen, his wife measured out
and handed the charges of powder to those that fired, and the
party was driven off.—Sarah Amberman, daughter of a miller
at Foster’s meadow, when her father was brutally attacked by
two drunken British officers, in 1780, endeavored to defendCHAPTER XII. 139

him at the risk of her life, while men who witnessed the cra-
elty dared offer no assistance.

These few instances are but fragments of a vast store of
experience ; but from them we may form some idea of the
condition of the whole country in those days of bloody peril,
when households were broken up by war in its worst form—

the conflict of brothers in arms against each other.

si
ny

.y

\
‘
SY
NY
\
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wsaE ee

Ee,

 

el eee er ae eet ce ee EEE

 

 

CHAP TE Raw riF.

INDIAN DEPREDATIONS—THE MASSACRES AT WYOMING AND

CHERRY VALLEY.

For a long time before the Revolution, the people in
various parts of the country had been harassed by Indian de-
predations. During the war many of the savage tribes were
incited and employed against the Americans by the policy of
Great Britain. The history of this warfare, and of the suffer-
ings of the inhabitants in these hostile incursions, by far too
extensive for a single volume, may be found in different works
devoted exclusively to the subject. It forms but a repetition
of the same story of barbarities and massacres, of burning
and devastation, of captivity and torture. In some sections,
the men at work in the field were obliged to have riflemen
stationed near to guard them. Some romantic incidents are
related of the attacks on the Scoharie forts. The commander
of one ordered the women and children who had taken refuge
there, to go into the cellar. One woman refused to go; but
took a spear, and stood at the pickets to assist in the defence.
At another fort, a number of women stood ready at the
pickets, armed with spears, pitchforks, poles, &¢., to await the
attack.CHAPTER XIII. 141]

Leaving such scenes and incidents, we will direct our at-
tention to a tragedy, the record of which forms one of the
darkest pages in history. In the summer of 1778, a consider-
able force of tories and Indians, under the command of Col.
John Butler and an Indian chief, appeared in the beautiful
valley of Wyoming on the Susquehannah. The valley had
been drained of its strength to supply the continental army.
The band of four hundred fighting men, who marched out to
meet the enemy on the 3d of July, were totally defeated, but
a few surviving the battle. The forts were then taken, the
inhabitants massacred, and the settlements ravaged with fire
and sword. A nearer view of the picture may be given by
the mention of one or two sufferers.

On the night of the 3d of July, a Mrs. Gould, with the
women who still remained in Wyoming, sought refuge in the
fort. Her brother-in-law, one of the brave men who survived
the massacre, was with her family, but many of the terrified
inhabitants had already fled. It was quite dark when they
entered the fort, and so great were the terror and confusion,
that it was not perceived till they went in that a boy four
years old, one of Mrs. Gould’s children, was missing! The
effect on the mother of this fearful discovery may be more
readily imagined than described. Disregarding all remon-
strances and entreaties not to expose herself to deadly peril,
she set out immediately, alone and in the darkness, to search
for the missing child. For more than an hour she wandered,
secking him in every spot where it was likely he could have
strayed ; taking her way across the plain strewed with the

dead and dying of the recent battle—where the savages, eagerFa i te ee ieee,

LONELY LLES DED L ALLE GOES

Sorin reas

” ee

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

142 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

for blood, were still lurking

 

fearing only for her child, lest he
might be lost in the river, or might have faller. into the hands
of the merciless red-men! At last the little truant was found
playing with some other children on the banks of the river
The young mother clasped to her bosom her recovered trea-
sure, and hurried back with him to the place of partial safety.
The night, measured through its hours by so many mourners,
at length passed. In the morning all within the fort was a
scene of confusion. Not a moment was to be lost, for all
knew too well the mercy they must expect from their foes
when they should fall into their power, and that their only
hope lay in immediate flight. Preparations for this were going
forward on all sides. Mrs. Gould’s brother-in-law assisted
her in the few and hurried arrangements she made for depar-
ture. A fine horse belonging to her husband was laden with
a bed, on which she was placed with her four children, the
youngest an infant.

The writer of “‘ The Hazleton Travellers” says, describing
the flight after the massacre— What a picture for the pen-
cil! Every pathway through the wilderness thronged with
women and children, old men and boys. The able men of
middle life and activity were either away in the general ser-
vice, or had fallen ; and in one drove of fugitives, consisting
of a hundred persons, there was only one man. Let the
painter stand on some eminence, commanding a view at once
of the valley and the mountain. Let him paint the throng
climbing the heights ; hurrying on, filled with terror, despair,
and sorrow. ‘Take a single group; the affrighted mother,
whose husband has fallen, an infant on her boscm, a child byon EY

CHAPTER XIII. 143

the hand; an aged parent slowly climbing the rugged way
behind her ; hunger presses them sorely; in the rustling of

every leaf they hear the approaching savage ;

the valley, all
in flames, behind them ; their cottages, their barns, their har-
vests, all swept in the flood of ruin.”

In this pilgrimage over the rugged wilderness of the moun-
tains, where the sick and wounded, the young and the aged,
took their weary way, Mrs. Gould was moved beyond endur-
ance by the sights of weakness and misery every where sur-
rounding her. With the prospect of a long and _ perilous
journey before her, she dismounted, took down the children,
and with the youngest in her arms, pursued her way on foot,
jeaving the horse she had rode for the use of those fugitives
who, from sickness or old age, were unable to accomplish a
journey of any lencth on foot, or even to make good their
escape. With a heart filled with forebodings of evil, she
turned her face towards the rising sun, and with her young
children resumed the toilsome march seventy miles in length ;
sleeping at night under the canopy of heaven, subsisting on
fruits of the forest and the handful of spoiled meal which was
all she had been able to secure in the way of provision for the
journey. But her unfaltering trust was fixed on Him who
feedeth the young ravens when they ery. Sustained and
guided by His protecting care, they at length reached the
Delaware in safety.

One young man who escaped after the battle, plunged
into the water for safety, and swam toasmall island. Here,
immersed in water, protected by the bushes at the water’s

edve, and screened by the darkness of night, he happilyaa aa a

Cercle deli ideica « eda a IEEE EEE,

 

144 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

eluded the search of the pursuing foe, thirsting for blood ,
while about twenty of his companions, who had retreated to
the same spot, were all massacred within a few yards of him.
He heard the dismal strokes of the tomahawk, and the groans
of the dying, expecting every moment himself to become the
next victim. One savage foot trod upon the very bush to
which he clung. A solitary individual besides himself was
left, at the departure of the savages, to weep with him over
the mangled bodies of their friends.

One among the company of women who fled amid the hor-
rors of the conflagration, with her six children, the youngest
but five years of age, hastened to the water-side, where boats
were prepared for their conveyance down the river. The lit-
tle ones, half destitute of clothing, were ready to ery with
the anguish of their bruised and lacerated feet ; but the chid-
ines of the mother, and the dread of being heard by the lurk-
ing savage, repressed their weeping. The widow’s thoughts
were turned towards the land of her birth, formidable as the
journey was on foot, without money, clothes, or provisions
Her way lay in part through Dutch settlements, where she
eould only by signs tell the story of her sufferings, or make
known her wants. The tale of woe, however, swifter in its

flizht, had spread far and wide, and she received many kind-

nesses from the people of a strange lancuage. Sometimes
indeed, she was refused admission into their houses; ‘ but,”
she would add in her narration, “‘ they had nice barns, with
clean straw, where my children lodged very comfortably.”

After travelling one hundred miles by water, and nearly threeCHAPTER XII. 145

hundred by land, she arrived in safety at the place of her
former residence in Connecticut.
Another, who had lost five brothers in the battle, made her
escape with six others in a canoe, on hearing of the issue of
the conflict and of the enemy’s approach—and pushed off
into the river, without provisions, to seek safety from the
murderous tomahawk, Meeting a boat coming up with stores
for Capt. Spalding’s company, the sufferings of hunger were
relieved ; and the distressed fugitives, not knowing the fate of
their friends, after a dangerous navigation of one hundred and
twenty miles, landed near Harrisburg, where being hospitably
received and kindly treated, they remained till Gen. Sullivan’s
army came to Wyoming and rendered it safe to return,

The sufferings of numberless families in the frontier scttle-
ments were hardly exceeded even by those of Wyoming. In
Wawasink the women bore their share in the efforts made
for defence—loading guns for their defenders, and carrying
water to extinguish the flames of their dwellings. In an
attack upon the house of the widow Bevier, after it was fired,
the two women sought refuge in the cellar, the daughter
taking with her the Dutch family Bible. When the flames
approached them, they decided to deliver themselves up to
the savages, and made their way throuzh the cellar window—
the mother in advance. The daughter threw her apron over
her head, fearing to see her parent killed. As she feared,
the widow fell a prey to the cruel tomahawk, while the Bible
was wrested from Magdalen’s hands and stamped in the mud,

she herself being retained a prisoner. In another house—

Bevier’s—defended by its inmates, the powder was laid iu
7. N

   
 
  
  
  
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 

 

 

ee

Oe re146 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

basins on the table, and the women helped to load the pieces.
| till at length the old log house was fired at a point where they
sould not bring their guns to bear. Their situation now be-
same most alarming, and they applied every drop of liquid in
the house to check the progress of the flames; taking milk,
and even swill, in their mouths, and spirting it through the
cracks of the logs, in hopes thus to protract existence till re-
lief might come. At this crisis, when death appeared nevi
table, the prayers of the pious mother seemed to b> answ red
by direct interposition from Heaven. The brother of Bevier,
warned of danger by the mute appeal of the dog belonging to
the house, came with another to his assistance, and the In-
dians and tories, not knowing, when. they heard the firing of

their sentry, how large a force was coming, withdrew from

 

ss the house just as the flames had extended to the curtains of
ie the bed.
In October an American expedition was undertaken against

the Indians on the upper branches of the Susquehanna. Tn

 

a November there was a repetition of savage barbarities at
Cherry Valley in New York. A part of the same force that
bi had desolated Wyoming, invaded and utterly destroyed the

settlement. The tragedy here enacted stands next in atrocity

viene ene

eee

| to the destruction of Wyoming. Some instances of individual
suffering are recorded. One young girl was barbarously
iy murdered by an Indian near a pile of wood, behind which
We she had endeavored to screen herself. Another woman fled
with her children into the woods, where she lay concealed

Vee under a large log during a cold rainy day and night, hearing

iat hatee seein baaamadaeiien

 

the yells of the savages as they triumphed in the work of

OOCHAPTER XIII. 147

death, and secing them pass so near that one of them trailed
his gun on the log that covered her. The father of Mrs.
Campbell, who was in her house, attempted almost single-
handed to oppose the enemy, and refused to yield till he was
wounded and overpowered. The mother and her children
were dragged away as prisoners, and the house was presently
in flames,

Leaving the settlement a scene of desolation, the enemy
took their departure the same night, with their prisoners, of
whom there were between thirty and forty. That night was
passed in a valley about two miles south of the fort. “A
large fire was kindled, around which they were collected, with
no shelter to protect them from the storm. Around them at
a short distance on every side, gleamed the watchfires of the
savages, who were engaged in examining and distributing the
punder. Along up the valley they caught occasional glimpses
of the ruins of their dwellings, as some sudden gust of wind,
or falling timber, awoke into new life the decaying flame.”

Mrs. Campbell and her children were considered important
captives, and while most of the other women and little ones
were released, after the detention of a day or two, and per-
mitted to return to their homes, she was informed that she
and her children must accompany their captors to the land of
the Senecas. On the second day after the captivity her
mother was killed by her side. The aged and infirm matron
was unable to keep pace with the rest ; her daughter was sup-
porting her faltering steps, and encouraging her to exert her
utmost strength, when the savage struck her down with his

tomahawk. Nota moment was the daughter suffered to lin-ore,

Ce ae

ee ne ee

RI eee ee eee

 

148 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

ger, to close the dying eyes, or reccive the last sigh of her
murdered parent ; the same Indian drove her on with his up-
lifted and bloody weapon, threatening her with a similar fate
should her speed slacken. She carried in her arms an infant
eighteen months old; and for the sake of her helpless little
ones, dragged on her weary steps in spite of failing strength,
at the bidding of her inhuman tormentors.

This long and melancholy journey was commenced on the
llth of November. Mrs. Campbell was taken down the
valley of the Susquehanna to its junction with the Tioga,
and thence into the western part of New York, to the Indian
Castle, the capital of the Seneca nation, near the site of the
present beautiful village of Geneva. The whole region was
then an unbroken wilderness, with here and there an Indian
settlement, and the journey was performed by Mrs. Campbell
partly on foot, with her babe in her arms. Heer other children
were separated from her on the way, being given to Indians
of different tribes ; and on her arrival at the village, her in-
fant also was taken fromher. The helpless babe clung to her
when torn away by savage hands, and she could hear its piercing
cries till they were lost in the distance.

Long and dreary was the winter that followed. In
one respect Mrs. Campbell was fortunate. She was placed
in an Indian family, composed chiefly of females and began
at once to make herself useful; thus early securing the
confilence and even the admiration of these daughters of
the furest. She taught them some of the arts of civilized life,

and made garments not only for the family to which she be-CHAPTER XIII. 149

longed, but for those in the neighborhood, who sent corn and
venison in return. In acknowledgment of these services, she
was allowed the command of her own time, and freedom from
restraint, and was permitted to abstain from her usual labors
on the sacred day of rest.

The proposed exchange of Mrs. Campbell and her children

for the wife and sons of Col. John Butler

 

the noted partisan
leader—being agreed upon by Gov. Clinton and Gen. Schuy-
ler, early in the spring Col. Campbell despatched an Indian
messenger to Col. Butler at Fort Niagara. Butler came soon
after to the village of Canadaseago, to confer with the Indian
council on the subject of giving up their prisoners. The
families who adopted captives in the place of deceased rela-
tives were always unwilling to part with them; and Butler
had some difficulty in obtaining their assent. It was neces-
sary also to procure the consent of a family in the Genesce
village, with whom Mrs. Campbell was to have been placed in
the spring. They were kinsfolk of the king of the Senecas ;
and it is no small proof of the esteem Mrs. Campbell had won
from the Indians, that he volunteered to go himself, and per-
suade them to yield their claim. Though aged, the kind-
hearted savage performed the journey on foot; and returning
informed Mrs. Campbell that she was free, bade her farewell,
and promised to come and visit her when the war was over.
In June, 1779, she was sent to Fort Niagara, but was not
finally released till more than a year afterwards.

The story of Frances Slocum, captured in Wyoming, has a

wide celebrity. Her father was a member of the Society of

Friends, and haying always been kind to the Indians, was at
; ne

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

ee Tea le

ee a eT
ide Ter ee

 

150 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

 

first left unmolested ; but when they learned that one of his
sons had been in the battle, the family was marked out for
vengeance. Soon after, the savages entered the house, seized
Frances, then about five years old, and carried her off to the
mountains. The alarm was instantly given, but the Indians
cluded pursuit, and no trace of their retreat could be discov-
ered. Nothing was heard of the captive till fifty-nine years
afterwards, when an aged white woman, living with the Miami
tribe of Indians in Indiana, was discovered to be the same
person. She had become attached to Indian life, having been
adopted as a daughter of their people, and living as a queen
among them.

The atrocities committed by hostile Indians form so promi-
nent a feature in a kistory of Revolutionary times, that they
should not pass entirely unnoticed. The few incidents de-
scribed will give some idea of what occurred in various por-
tions of the country—north, south and west—in a thousand
similar instances.

The events above noticed were the only prominent ones that
took place in the northern section of the country during the
latter part of 1778, Washington had proceeded with the
army as far as White Plains, and late in the autumn went inte

winter quarters at Middlebrook, New JerseyCHAS PAT BR XY...

 
 
  
     
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

ATTACK ON THE SOUTH—SUBJUGATION OF GEORGIA—
SCENES IN SOUTH CAROLINA—SIEGE OF SAVANNAH—
CLOSE OF THE CAMPAIGN OF 1779.

SHortTxy after the conclusion of the alliance with France,
the Frenclrfleet, under the command of Count D’Hstaing, had
been sent te America. The commander was prevented from
an attack on the British fleet at New York, by the difficulty
of crossing the bar at the entrance of the bay. He then
sailed for Newport, designing an attack on the British foree a x
stationed there, co-operating with an attempt by land, to he
made at the same time by troops under the command of Gene-
rals La Fayette, Greene and Sullivan. On the 10th of
August, 1778, Lord Howe’s fleet appeared, and D’Estaing
sailed out to engage him ; but the battle was prevented by 4
sudden and viclent storm. The French commandant then
sailed to Boston to repair the damages his vessels had sustain-
ed, and the British fleet returned to New York.

From this time the South was to be the principal field of
military operations. In November, Count D’istaing sailed
with his flect for the West Indies, designing there to attack
the possessions of Great Britain. Sir Henry Clinton, on his

part, despatched Col. Campbell from New York on an expedi-eee ee ee enema

TR eS

i

 

 

P52 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

 

tion against Georgia, the feeblest of the Southern provinces
His troops landed late in December near Savannah, defeated
the American commander, and obtained possession of that
capital. This was the first step in the British plan of con-
quering Georgia and South Carolina. But little, however,
had been accomplished in the last two years, towards the com-
pletion of the great enterprise of reducing the colonies to sub-
jection.

The military operations of 1779 were not of great impor-
tance. The British were bent on vigorously prosecuting their
scheme of conquest at the South. Shortly after the fall
of Savannah, Gen. Prevost, with troops from East Florida,
took possession of Sunbury, the only military post in the
State held by Americans, and joining his forces to those of
Col. Campbell, assumed the chief command of the royal army
at the South. The loyalists who came along the western fron-
tier of Carolina to join his standard, committed great devasta-
tions on their way. Gen. Lincoln, who commanded the conti-
vental forces in the southern department, sent a detachment
under Gen. Ashe across the Savannah, to repress the incur-
sions of the enemy. ‘The surprise and defeat of this detach-
ment by Prevost, completed the subjugation of Georgia.

The war swept with violence over this State, the country
being overrun with irregular marauders after Col. Campbell
took possession of Savannah. As many of the inhabitants as
could retire from the storm did so, awaiting a happier time to
renew the struggle. One of those who sought refuge in Flo-
rida, was Mr. Spalding, whose establishments were on the

river St. John’s. Hehad the whole Indian trade from theCHAPTER XIV. 153

Altamaha to the Apalachicola. His property, with his pur-
suits, was destroyed by the war, yet his heart was ever with
his countrymen, and the home he prepared was the refuge of
every American prisoner in Florila. Mrs. Spalding twice
during the war traversed the two hundred miles between
St. John’s River and Savannah in an open boat, with only
black servants, when the whole country was a desert, without
a house to shelter her and her infant son. The first of these
occasions was when she visited her father and brothers while
prisoners in Savannah.

By great exertions on the part of the whigs, the American
General Lincoln was enabled to recommence operations by
the middle of April. Leaving Gen. Moultrie to watch the
movements of Prevost, he began his march up the Savannah,
intending to cross into Georgia near Augusta. Gen. Prevost
on his part, attacked Moultrie and Pulaski, compelling them
to retreat, and then hurried, early in May, to place him
self before Charleston. His approach caused great terror
and disturbance among the inhabitants. Mrs. Wilkinson,
who lived at Yonge’s Island, thirty miles south of Charles-
ton, describes, in her letters, some of the scenes that oc-
curred. She was in Charleston when news came that a
large party of the enemy had landed near Beaufort. With a
few friends, she went over to her father’s plantation, but
did not remain long ; for upon receiving information that a
body of British horse was within five or six miles, they
crossed the river to Wadmalaw, and went for refuge to the
house of her sister. A large boat-load of women and chil-

dren hurrying for safety to Charleston, stayed with them a
Sete ae i / © ©

7
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ys, gies VAN y
SAI eee en154 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

Jay or two, and presented a sad spectacle of the miseries
brought in the train of war.

The surrounding country was waiting in a distressed con-
dition for the coming of Gen. Lincoln, to whom the people
looked for deliverance. Many painful days of suspense passed
before tidings were received. All trifling discourse was laid
aside—the ladies who gathered in knots talking only of politi-
cal affairs. At last the joyful news was brought of the ap-
proach of Lincoln. Mrs. Wilkinson was then with her sister
at an inland country-seat. They were called on by parties of
the Americans, whom they always received with friendly hos-
pitality. ‘“‘ The poorest soldier,” says she, ‘‘ who called at
| any time for a drink of water, [ would take a pleasure in giv-
Hl ing it to him myself; and many a dirty, ragged fellow have I

| attended with a bowl of water, or milk and water; they really
Bi] | merit everything, who will fight from principle alone ; for
from what [ could learn, these poor creatures had nothing to
pith protect, and seldom got their pay ; yet with what alacrity will
ue they encounter danger and hardships of every kind!”
et Gen. Prevost was compelled to retire from his position on
| the approach of Lincoln. He proceeded to the island of St.
John’s, separated from the mainland by an inlet called Stono
River; and leaving a division at Stono Ferry, retired with a
part of his foree towards Savannah. On the 2d of June,
two men belonging to his army, rode up to the house occupied
i) by the lady already mentioned, and asked many questions,

saying that Col. M’Girth and his soldiers might be presently

ieee ee eae IEG EEE EEE

| looked for, and that the inmates could expect no mercy. The

ee

family remained in a state of cruel suspense for many hoursCHAPTER XIV. 155

The following morning a party of the whigs called at the gate,
but did not alight. One of them in leaping a ditch, was hurt,
and taken into the house for assistance; and while they were
dressing his wound, a negro girl gave the alarm that the
‘“ king’s people” were coming. The two men mounted their
horses and escaped; the women awaited the enemy’s ap-
proach. Mrs. Wilkinson wrote to a friend :

‘‘T heard the horses of the inhuman Britons coming—the
riders bellowing out the most horrid oaths and imprecations.
I had no time for thought—they were up to the house—
entered with drawn swords and pistols in their hands, crying
‘Where are those women rebels?”?_ The moment they espied
us, off went our caps, to get a paltry stone and wax pin, which
kept them on our heads; at the same time uttering abusive
language, and making as if they would hew us to pieces with
their swords. They had several armed negroes with them,
who also threatened us. They then began to plunder the

house of everything they thought worth taking ; our trunks

oy
were split to pieces, and each mean wretch crammed his bosom
with the contents. I ventured to speak to the monster who
had my clothes. I represented to him the times were such
we could not replace what they had taken from us, and begged
him to spare me only a suit or two: but so far was his callous
heart from relenting, that casting his eyes towards my shoes,
‘‘T want them buckles,” said he, and immediately knelt at
my feet to take them out. While he was doing this, a brother
villain bawled out, “‘ Shares there, I say! shares!” So they
divided my buckles between them. The others were employ-

s ky _ 3 os _
ed in the same manner; they took my sister’s carrings from

 

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Sarena

nencnranenn ie

SEBS Toe ak awe

SCH eer

ety

aeacmeetl156 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

her ears, her and Miss Samuells’ buckles; demanded her ring
from her finger, and, after bundling up all their booty, mount-
ed their horses; each wretch’s bosom stuffed so full, they ap-
peared to he all afflicted with some dropsical disorder.”

This outrage was followed by a visit from M‘Girth’s men,
who treated the ladies with more civility ; one of them promis-
ing to make a report at camp of the usage they had reecived.
Yet they were not content without their share of plunder,
though more polite in the manner of taking it. ‘‘ While the
British soldiers were talking to us, some of the silent ones
withdrew, and presently laid siege to a beehive, which they
soon brought to terms. The others perceiving it, cried out,
‘Hand the ladies a plate of honey.’ This was immediately
done with officious haste, no doubt thinking they were very
Hi generous in treating us with our own. There were a few
a horses feeding in the pasture. They had them driven up.
i ‘Ladies, do either of you own these horses?? ‘No; they
| partly belong to father and Mr. Smilie!’ ‘ Well, ladies, as
i they are not your property, we will take them.’?” The aged
He father was visited the same day by another body of troops,
who plundered the house. ‘‘ After drinking all the wine, rum,
i &c. they could find, and inviting the negroes they had with
ul them, who were very insolent, to do the same—they went to
il their horses, and would shake hands with father and mother
before their departure !”

After such unwelcome visitors, it is not surprising that the

CEE EEE ETE ECE

 

unprotected women could not eat or sleep in peace. They

cee

We] lay in their clothes every night, alarmed by the least noise ;

SO ae

while the days were spent in anxiety and melancholy. One

ee Oapelesctth halal le anti tay sk Bs ET ae

     
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 

CHAPTER XIV. 157

morning, when Mrs. Wilkinson was coming out of her cham-
ber, her eyes fixed on the window—for she was always on the
watch—she saw something glitter through a thin part of the
wood bordering the road. It proved to be the weapons of a |
large body of soldiers. She concluded they were British |

troops ; and every one in the house took the alarm. ‘ Never

 

was there such a scene of confusion. Sighs, complaints,
wringing of hands, one running here, another there, spreading
the dreadful tidings; and in a little time the negroes in
the field came running up to the house with a hundred
stories. Table, tea-cups—all the breakfast apparatus—were
immediately huddled together and borne off; and we watched
sharply to see which way the enemy took. In a minute
or two we saw our avenue crowded with horsemen in uniform.
Said I, ‘ That looks like our uniform—blue and red’—but I
immediately recollected to have heard that the Hessian
uniform was much like ours; so out of the house we went,
into an out-house.” Their excessive fright prevented the
explanation attempted from being understood. While the
officer was endeavoring to reassure the terrified ladies, a negro
woman came up, and tapping Mrs. Wilkinson on the shoulder,
whispered, ‘‘I don’t like these men; one of them gave me
this piece of silver for some milk; and I know our people
don’t have so much silver these times. ”’

The horsemen were a party of Americans, under the cum-
mand of Maj. Moore. The mistake had been mutual—the
listress shown at sight of them having caused the officer im
ommand to conclude himself and his men unwelcome visitors

to some tory family. The discovery that they were friends158 DOMESTIC HISTORY UF THE REVOLUTION.

changed fear into delight. Word was presently brought that
a number of the enemy were carrying provisions from a plan-
tation about two miles distant. The whigs marched to the
place, and returned with seven prisoners. T'wo of these were
of M'Girth’s party, who had treated the ladies so cruelly ; yet
notwithstanding the injuries received, the kind heart of Mrs.
Wilkinson relented at the siyht of them. She expressed pity
for their distress, and inquiring if they would like anything to
drink, supplied them with water, holding the glass to their
lips, as their hands were tied behind them. ‘ An officer had
ee a ball through his arm; we could find no rag to dress his
wounds, everything in the house being thrown into such con-
fusion by the plunderers; but Miss Samuells took from her
neck the only remaining handkerchief the Britons had left her,
and with it bound up his arm.”
Hi Their friends having left them, Mr. Yonge sent for his
ne daughter to his own plantation. The ladies were obliged to
i walk three miles in the overpowering heat, the horses haying
M been taken away ; but umbrellas were sent for them, and they

ih were attended by two of Mr. Yonge’s negro men armed with

ee ee ee

i clubs. While crossing a place called the Sands, the blacks
| captured and wounded a negro belonging to the loyalists, who
| came out of the woods. Mrs. Wilkinson interfered to save
| his life. They arrived safe at their father’s, whence they
| were driven ere long by another alarm. This time their flight
was in darkness, through bogs and woods, stumbling against

ta the stumps or each other. In their new abode they had more

Cael tea eee EEE

security. Parties of friends were out continually, keepin

eo
oS

the enemy quiet ; and sometimes in the night soldiers wouldCHAPTER XIV. 159

ride up, and bid the negroes tell the ladies they might sleep
soundly, for they were to maintain’a patrol during the night. iN

At length the arrival of Gen. Lincoln was announced ; |
and he was joyfully welcomed by the inmates of the house
That night two or three hundred men were quartered on the
plantation—some of the officers sleeping in the hall. They

refused to have their beds made. ‘“ Beds were not for sol-

 

 

diers ; the floor or the earth served them as well as any where
else.” At daybreak they moved to camp.

Gen. Lincoln, with Col. Pickens, attacked the division
at Stono Ferry on the 20th June, but was repulsed with loss.
The British shortly after established a post at Beaufort, and
the main body of the army retired to Savannah ; the hot and
sickly season preventing further action on either side for some
months.

An incident that occurred at this time illustrates the cha- i \
racter of some of the American women, as well as the condi-
tion of the country. The residence of Robert Gibbes on
Stono River, upon John’s Island, was known as the seat
of hospitality and elegant taste. The rumor of its luxu-
rious living probably attracted attention, and a battalion of
British and Hessians, determined to quarter themselves in
so desirable a spot, arrived at the landing at the dead of
night, and marching up in silence, surrounded the house.
The day had not dawned, when an aged and faithful servant
tapped softly at the door of Mrs. Gibbes’ apartment. The
whisper— Mistress, the redcoats are all around the house,’’
was the first intimation given of their danger. Her prepara.

tions were instantly commenced to receive the intrudersA ei Ete Le ice ie ttl a tt ae ee

ee

 

 

160 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

Having dressed herself quickly, she went up stairs, waked
several ladies who were guests in the house, and requested
them to rise and dress with all possible haste. In the mean
time the domestics were directed to prepare the children, of
whom, with her own eight, and those under her care, there
were sixteen. ‘These were speedily dressed and seated in the
spacious hall. Mrs. Gibbes then assisted her husband, who
was a cripple, to rise and dress, and had him placed in his
rollmg chair. All these arrangements were made so silently
that the enemy had no idea any one was awake within the
house. The object of Mrs. Gibbes was to prevent violence
by showing them that the mansion was inhabited only by thos«
who were unable to defend themselves. When the door was
thrown open, and the stately form of the invalid was seen,
surrounded by women and children, they drew back, startled
into an involuntary expression of respect. The officers took
immediate possession of the house, leaving the premises to
their men, and extending no protection against pillage. The
soldiers roved at their pleasure about the plantation, helping
themselves to whatever they chose ; breaking into the wine-
room, drinking to intoxication, and seizing and carrying off the
negroes. A large portion of the plate was saved by the pru-
dent care of a faithful servant, who secretly buried it. Within
the house the energy and self-possession of Mrs. Gibbes still
protected her family. Maintaining her place as mistress of
her household, and presiding at her table, she treated her un-
invited guests with a dignified courtesy that ensured civility
while it prevented presumptuous familiarity.

When the news reached Charleston that the British hadCHAPTER XIV. 161

encamped on this plantation, the authorities in that city des-
patched two galleys to dislodge them. These vessels ascend-
ed the river in the night, and arriving opposite, opened a
heavy fire upon the invaders’ encampment. As soon as the
firmg began, Mr. Gibbes proposed to his wife that they should 7
take the children and seek a place of greater safety. Their
horses being in the enemy’s hands, they had no means of con-

veyance ; but Mrs. Gibbes set off to walk with the children to

 

 

an adjoining plantation in the interior. A drizzling rain was
falling, and the weather was extremely chilly ; the fire was
incessant from the American guns, and sent, in order to
avoid the house, in a direction which was in a range with the
course of the fugitives. The shot, falling around them, cut I
the bushes, and struck the trees on every side. Exposed i
each moment to this imminent danger, they continued their |
fight with as much haste as possible for about a mile, till h
beyond reach of the shot.

Having reached the houses occupied by the negro laborers
on the plantation, they stopped for a few moments to rest.
Mrs. Gibbes, wet, chilled, and exhausted by fatigue and men-
tal anxiety, felt her strength fail, and was obliged to wrap
herself in a blanket and lie down upon one of the beds. It
was then that, on reviewing the group to ascertain if all had
escaped uninjured, it was found that a little boy, in the hurry
and terror of their flight, had been fergotten and left behind !
What was to be done? The servants refused to risk their
lives by returning for him. The roar of the distant guns was
still heard ; the chilly rain was falling, and the darkness was

ny

profound. In this extremity Mary Anna, the eldest daughter,
o*eee ee
oom

Ns MII Nh feet Meese es MA hp tet iam ee

ee

oD ae

 

 

-62 DOMESTIC FISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

only thirteen years of age, determined to venture back alone
Hastening along the path, she reached the house, still in the
possession of the enemy ; entreated permission from the sen-
tinel to enter, and searching anxiously, found the child in a
room in the third story. Lifting him joyfully in her arms she
carried him down, and fled with him to the spot where he:
anxious parents were awaiting her return. The shot flew
thickly around her, frequently throwing up the earth in her
way; but protected by the Providence that watches over
innocence, she joined the rest of the family in safety.

The anniversary of the alliance with France was celebrated
by an entertainment given in the camp near Middlebrook, New
Jersey. On this festive occasion Mrs. Washington, Mrs. Greene
and Mrs. Knox, with the wives of several officers, were present ;
and ladies and gentlemen from a large circuit around the
camp, attended the celebration. It was opened by a discharge
of cannon , and dinner was prepared in a building used for an
academy. There was dancing in the evening, and a grand
display of fire-works. The ball was opened by General
Washington. As this was a festival given by men who had
not enriched themselves by the war, the illuminations were on
a cheap scale, being entirely of their own manufacture ; the
seats were adorned with no armorial. blazonry, but were the
work of native, and rather unskilful artizans. ‘“‘ Instead of
knights of different orders, such as pageants like the Mischi-
anza could boast, there were but hardy soldiers ; happy, how-
ever, in the consciousness that they had contributed to bring
about the auspicious event they had met to celebrate.”

Among the lively sallies of the belles of this entertainment.ann le ns te te A CNRS

    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 

CHAPTER XIV. 163

one is recorded, that caused no inconsiderable amusement
A young lady, when asked if the roaring of the British lion
in his late speech had not somewhat depressed the spirit of
the dance—replied : ‘‘ No, it should rather enliven it; for I
have heard that such animals always increase their howlings
when frightened.”

During this year the forces of Sir Henry Clinton were em-
ployed at the north in various incursions from New York, for
the purpose of ravaging the coasts and laying waste the
country. The object was to impoverish and distress it. An
expedition was sent to Virginia ; Gov. Tryon plundered New
Haven, Connecticut, and wantonly burned other towns in that
State. Their inhabitants were treated with great cruelty.
The Americans on their part accomplished little, with the ex- \
ception of Gen. Wayne’s brilliant exploit—the recapture of =
Stony Point, and an expedition under Gen. Sullivan against i
the Six Nations of Indians. Sullivan chastised their depreda-
tions upon the border settlements by laying waste the Indian
country to the Genessee River, and destroying their fields and
villages. Some of the tribes abandoned the country on his
approach, and fled within command of the British forts in
Canada, promiscuously settling there. They frequently inva-
ded the frontier settlements, burning and murdering, and
carrying off prisoners.

Great difficulties, meanwhile, had been growing out of the
rapid depreciation of the Continental currency, or the bills of
credit issued by Congress. A dollar in specie was frequently
exchanged for forty, or even eighty, in bills. The common

necessaries of life were enormously high; four month’s pay ofLEE:

ee

LLORES VELL LEL SY

Sera cman

poe

ee

164 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

a soldier, it was said, would hardly procure his family a) shel
of wheat. The bill of a party of travellers in Pennsy! -ania,
after six weeks’ lodging, amounted to thirty-two thousand dol-
lars in paper money. The daughter of Dr. Franklin wrote to
him that she had to pay two hundred pounds for a winter cloak
and hat, and gauze was fifty dollars a yard. The time came
when her domestics were obliged to take two baskets to mar-
ket—one empty to contain the provisions they purchased, the
other full of continental money to pay for them. Yet in
spite of the continued rise of prices, she says in January
1779, “‘ there never was so much dressing and pleasure going
on in the capital.”

The Count D’Estaing returned with his fleet from the West
Indies, and in concert with the troops of Gen. Lincoln, pro
ceeded early in September to the siege of Savannah. Marion
was at this siege, which continued a month. The celebrated
Count Pulaski also was with the Americans. On one occa-
sion, when the dragoons commanded by him were ordered to
charge a party of British approaching the camp, that noble-
man, who was a splendid horseman, was seen riding up and
down the lines on his black charger, chapeau in hand, ex-
claiming now and then, in his imperfect English, ‘I am sorry
for your country ! I am sorry for your country!” He fell in
the assault upon the city on the 9th of October. The Ame-
ricans were driven back, and the enterprise was abandoned.
The French fleet shortly after departed from the coast, and
Gen. Lincoln retreated into South Carolina.

A cloud of despondency hung over the close of this year

[t was true that Great Britain was threatened by a combina-CHAPTER XIV. 165

tion of power, Spain having declared war against her ; but her

resources seemed to increase with the demand on them. In
the United States the flattering hopes inspired by the alliance
with France had not been realized. The continental army
reduced in numbers and wretchedly clothed—the treasury
empty—the paper currency rapidly diminishing in value—dis-
tress was brought on all classes, and the prospect seemed
more than ever dark and discouraging. It needed all the pru-
dence and the exertions of General Washington to keep the

army from dissolution.GIGI

pause

Se

Sefer ieee A EEE

 

CHAPTER XY.

 
   
     
   
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
 

CAMPAIGN OF 1780—-sURRENDER OF CHARLESTON—CON-
QUEST OF SOUTH CAROLINA—FIRST OUTBREAK OF
RENEWED RESISTANCE.

Tue successful defence of Fort Moultrie had secured for
South Carolina a long exemption from the horrors of civil war :
but she was now to become the most important theatre of
operations. Sir Henry Clinton planned the campaign of
1780 on an extensive scale. In this transfer of the scene of
action, military operations were nearly suspended at the North.
Late in December, 1779, Gen. Clinton sailed with the bulk of
his army from New York, arrived in about a month in Georgia,
and on the 10th of February, quitted Savannah for the slege
of Charleston, then defended by Gen. Lincoln,

The islands south of the city were captured, the fleet of
Admiral Arbuthnot was anchored in the Charleston harbor,
and on the 9th of April, the besiegers opened their bat-
teries. The American militia, for the purpose of succoring
the city, had assembled a force commanded br Gen. Huger,
at Monk’s Corner, on the upper part of Cooper river. Gen.
Clinton sent a detachment, April 14th, which surprised and

dispersed them—a number of the mounted militia escapingCHAPTER XV. 167

with the loss of their horses. The British overran the coun-
try, often venturing beyond their lines, when the inhabitants suf-
fered much from their depredations. An anecdote is related of
Mrs. Izard, who resided near Dorchester, within the range of
their excursions. Her husband, who was aid to the com-

manding officer of the Light troops, was at home, when the

 

 

 

alarm was suddenly given by the appearance of a party of
British soldiers. He hastily concealed himself in a clothes-
press, while his wife awaited the entrance of his enemies. <A
search proving unsuccessful, the soldiers threatened to fire the
house; they robbed his wardrobe, and several of the ma-
rauders arrayed themselves in his best coats ; valuable articles
were seized in the presence of the lady, and an attempt was
even made to force her rings from her fingers. Yet she be-
trayed no apprehension, knowing that her husband’s safety
depended on her self-possession. No sooner were the plun- cf
derers gone, than Mr. Izard made his escape, and quickly
crossing the Ashley, gave notice to the Americans on the
other side of the river of the proximity of the enemy. The
British soldiers were intercepted by a body of cavalry that
had pushed across Bacon’s bridge, and so completely routed,
that but a few of their number returned within their lines to
relate the disaster.

Before this time, much difficulty having arisen from the
want of ammunition, Gov. Rutledge had sent a supply from
Charleston to the regiments throughout the State, to be m
readiness for any disturbances that might arise. Many of
these supplies were secured by the patriots in the back coun-

try, by secreting them in hollow trees and the like hiding-ea

Cate

Ae EE REE EEE

ee ee

168 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

places. The wife of Col. Thomas, of Spartanburg district,
preserved a portion stored in her house, by defending it, with
the aid of. two young men, against the assault of a party of
tories. When the loyalists came to secure some in the charge
of Mrs. Bratton, she was informed of their approach, and
immediately laid a train of powder from the depot to the spot
Where she stood. When the detachment came in sight, she
set fire to the train and blew it up. The wife of Maj. Otter-
son, who lived on Tyger river, and chanced to know where a
barrel of gunpowder was concealed in the woods, also prepared
a train and blew it up, on hearing that a party of loyalists
were coming for the treasure.

The whole country sympathized in the suffering and appre-
hension endured within the beleagured city. Theson of Capt.
Wade, who was at the time only five years old, was then with
his grandmother, Mrs. Martin, in one of the western districts.
He recollects walking in the piazza on a calm evening, when a
light breeze blew from the east, and the sound of heavy can-
non was distinctly heard in that direction. As report after
report, which they knew must be from the city, reached their
ears, the agitation of Mrs. Martin increased. She knew not
what evils might be announced ; she knew not but the sound
might be the knell of her sons, three of whom were then in
Charleston. Their wives were with her, and partook of the
same heart-chilling fears. They stood still for a few minutes,
each wrapped in her own painful and silent reflections, till the
mother at length, lifting up her hands and eyes, exclaimed
fervently—“ Thank Heaven, they are the children of the Re-
public !”CHAPTER XV. 169

Charleston surrendered on the 12th of May, and Gen.
Lincoln and the American army became prisoners of war
This suecess seemed to insure the recovery of the southern
section of the Union, and it was followed up by vigorous
movements. The stronghold of Ninety-Six was taken, with
Georgetown; and posts were established at different points
throughout the State, which now lay at the mercy of the con-
queror. Severe measures were adopted to overawe the
inhabitants, and secure a return to their allegiance.

A body of four hundred militia, under the command of
Col. Buford, retreating towards North Carolina, was pursued
by Col. Tarleton, overtaken at the Waxhaws, and inhumanly
cut to pieces, even while the men were entreating quarter
This bloody slaughter was an earnest of what those who ven-
tured resistance might expect. For some weeks all military
opposition ceased ; and it was the boast of Sir Henry Clinton
that here, at least, the American Revolution was ended. A
proclamation was issued, denouncing vengeance on all who
should dare appear in arms, save under the royal authority,
and offering pardon to those who would accept British pro-
tection by enrolling their names as loyal subjects of King
George. The great body of the people, believing resistance
unavailing, took the offered protection. Those in whose breasts
the love of liberty was unconquerable, sought refuge in North
Carolina. Sir Henry Clinton set sail early in June for New
York, leaving Lord Cornwallis to command the army and re-
establish the royal government.

But the spirit of a gallant people, brought for a season under

subjection by the arm of power, was not extinct. A. few re-
8 Pee eee ee

GRIER RE EOE

eee aa ee

 

 

170 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

solute spirits, scattered over the country, were ready to seize
the earliest opportunity of resistance. The first movement
towards an outbreak occurred in Chester District. An aged
patriot, named John Gaston, who resided on Fishing Creek,
not far from Catawba River, had nine sons whom he had
brought up in the love of political freedom. He had been in
the habit of sending one of them weekly to Camden, a dis-
tance of nearly fifty miles, for the only newspaper published
in the State—‘‘ The South Carolina and American General
Gazette.” His sons and his nephews often met at his house
to speak together of the aspect of affairs, and consult what
steps were to be taken. While they were assembled one day,
a messenger brought intelligence of the slaughter of Buford’s
men by Tarleton’s cavalry. At this news, the young men
rose with one accord, grasped each other by the hand, and vo-
luntarily pledged themselves to suffer death rather than sub-
mit to the invader. This spontaneous vow was confirmed by
a solemn oath, and thenceforward they continued in arms.
The wounded had been carried to Waxhaw Church as a
hospital. The two daughters of Justice Gaston lost no time
in repairing thither, and beheld a scene of misery. The floor
was strewed with the wounded and dying American soldiers,
suffering for want of aid; for men dared not come to minister
to their wants. It was the part of woman to bring relief to
the helpless and perishing. Day and night they were busied
in aiding the surgeon to dress their wounds, and in preparing
food for those who needed it; nor did they regard fatigue or

exposure, going from place to place about the neighborhond toCHAPTER Xv. 17]

procure such articles as were desirable to alleviate the pain
or add to the comfort of those to whom they ministered.
Rocky Mount had been selected by the British as a strong-
hold, and a body of the royal forces was there stationed.
Handbills were then circulated, notifying the inhabitants of
the country, that they were required to assemble at an old
field, where Beckhamyille now stands, to give in their names as
loyal subjects, and receive protection. After this proclama-
tion was issued, Col. Houseman, the commander of the post
at Rocky Mount, was seen with an escort wending his way to
the residence of Justice Gaston. He was met on the road by
the old man, who civilly invited him into the house. The
subject of his errand was presently introduced, and the
Justice took the opportunity to animadvert, with all the
warmth of his feelmgs, upon the recent horrible butchery, and
the course pursued by the British government towards the
American Colonies, which had driven them into the assertion of
their independence. In despair of bringing to submission so
strenuous an advocate of freedom, Col. Houseman at last left
the house ; but presently returning, he again urged the mat-
ter. He had learned, he said, from some of His Majesty’s
faithful subjects about Rocky Mount, that Gaston’s influence
would control the whole country ; he observed that resistance
was useless, and that true patriotism should induce the Jus-
tice to reconsider his determination, and by his example
persuade his sons and numerous connections to submit to law-
ful authority, and join the assembly on the morrow at the old
field. To these persuasions the old man gave only the stern

reply — Never !”172 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

No sooner had Houseman departed, than the aged patriot
took further steps. He immediately despatched runners to
various places in the neighborhood, requiring the people to
meet that night at his house. The summons was obeyed

Before midnight thirty-three men of active and powerfu.

 

frames—men trained and used to the chase—were assembled.
They had been collected by Capt. John McClure, and were
under his command. Clad in their hunting-shirts and moc-
casins, with their wool hats and deer-skin caps, the otter-skin
shot-bag and the butcher’s knife by their sides, and armed
with the rifle, they were ready for any enterprise in the cause
of liberty. arly in the morning they paraded before the
door of Justice Gaston. He came forth, and in compliance
with the custom of that day, brought with him a large case
bottle. Commencing with the officers, he gave each a hearty
shake of the hand, and then presented the bottle. he men
then took their course noiselessly along the old Indian trail
down Fishing Creek, to the field, where many of the people
were already gathered. Their sudden onset took by surprise
the promiscuous assemblage, about two hundred in number,
and the enemy was defeated.

Two mere youths—William Stroud and Joseph Wade—
who had enrolled their names with the British, at the begin-
ning of the fight threw themselves on their faces upon the.
ground. But when McClure’s party took possession, they
rose from among the dead, and joined the ranks of their coun-
trymen. Both were afterwards so unfortunate as to be cap-
tured by the royalists, who showed no mercy to those found

in arms after having taken protection. Stroud was hung byCHAPTER XV. 178

the roadside, a placard forbidding his burial being fastened to
the body, and Wade, it is said, received a thousand lashes.
This encounter was the first effort to breast the storm after
the suspension of military opposition ; the opening wedge to
the recovery of South Carolina. Before the evening of that
day, Justice Gaston was informed of the success of the enter-
prise, and judging wisely that his own safety depended on his
immediate departure, his horse was presently at the door, with
holster and pistols at the pommel of the saddle. The shot-
bag at the old man’s side was well supplied with ammunition,
and his rifle, doubly charged, lay across the horse before him.
Bestowing his parting blessing on his wife and grandchildren,
he left home with his young son, Joseph, who was armed and

mounted on another horse. On his way, he made a visit to

Waxhaw church, where his daughters were still occupied with -

their labor of kindness, to carry the news of what ‘‘ the boys,”
as he called them, had done. He then pursued his way till
he could consider himself beyond the danger of pursuit.
Loud and long were the curses of Houseman levelled against
him. The arch rebel, he declared, must be taken, dead or
alive; and the King’s loyal subjects were called upon to vo-
lunteer in the exploit of capturing and bringing to Rocky
Mount a hoary headed-man, eighty years of age. Before the
sun rose, about twenty redcoats were fording Rocky Creck,
and wending their way towards Gaston’s house. Mrs. Gaston
and her little granddaughter, providentially advised of their
approach, had quitted the house. Their place of concealment
was so near, that they could distinctly hear the frightful oaths

of the disappointed soldiers, and could see the redcoats pas-
p*

 

BRI one eeeee

ae ee

te tensa EPS EEE EO

 

 

174 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

sing to and fro through the yard. The aged matron, clasping
her grandchild’s little hands between her own, knelt upon the
ground, and in that glen, sheltered by bushes, poured out her
petition not only for her husband and children, but for the
liberty of her country and its deliverance from evil and blood-
thirsty men, who had not the fear of their Creator before their
eyes. In the fervor of her supplication she prayed aloud.
Her granddaughter, in describing the scene, said she might
have been heard as far as the house, and it was fortunate that
the soldiers did not discover her.

One of her grandsons, who was employed at work not far
from the spot, heard the noise of the soldiers, and ascended a
steep bluff within a short distance of the house, where he was
concealed from view by the thick foliage. He heard the
heavy strokes of their broadswords on the chair usually occu-
pied by the Justice, with the wishes that he were in it to re-
ceive the cleaving blows. The house was plundered of every-
thing and the stock carried off. The only article saved was
the Family Bible, which Mrs. Gaston had taken with her in
her flight. It is still kept in the familyCHAPTER © VI

A 8sCO:rCH IRISH SETTLEMENT—RESULT (F MARTIN’S

PREACWHING—BATTLE AT MOBLEY’S MEETING-HOUSE.

Ir will be mteresting to take a glimpse into what passed at
this time in # yuict little settlement on Rocky Creek, another
branch of the Catawba River. This settlement was composed
of a congregation of recent emigrants from the North of Ire-
land—commonly called Scotch Irish. They had come to
America about the year 1773, accompanied by their pastor
the Rev. William Martin. Bounty lands had been bestowed
by the government ag inducements to emigration, and those
who received such warrants, on their arrival took care to fix
their location as near as possible to a central point, where it
was their intention to build a meeting-house. Here, in the
summer of 1773, the pious Covenanters might be seen from
day to day, felling trees and clearing a space of ground, on
which they reared a large log church, many of them living in
tents at home, till a place was provided in which they could
assemble for religious service.

A number of log cabins soon rose in the neighborhood,
each with a patch of ground in which Indian corn was planted.

The Irish emigrants were ignorant of the manner of cultivat-

 

 
 
   
   
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

pt LILI

PS Cte REee eee

em ier Ieee REG LEE

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176 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

‘* country-borns”’ were

ing this grain; but the first settlers, or
ready to offer assistance, and took pains to instruct them
The wants of small families were supplied with small crops,
for corn was then only used for making bread, the woods af-
fording abundant supplies of grass, cane and wild pea vines
to serve their horses and cattle for provender the year round.
The streams abounded in shad and various other fish in their
season, and the trusty rifle that hung on the rack over the
door, was never brought back without having performed its
duty in slaying the deer, or whatever small game might be
sought in the forest. Often have the old men who lived at
that day spoken of the abundance that prevailed; a good
hunter, when he chose, making five dollars a day in deer
skins and hams, while, if generous, he might give away the re-
mainder of venison to the poor. The hams and skins were
sent to Charleston and exchanged for powder, lead, and other
necessary articles. The wealth of these primitive planters
consisted in stock, their labors in tilling the earth, felling the
woods and fencing their fields, while they were disturbed by
none of the wants or cares created by a more advanced state
of civilization. Such was the condition of the Covenanters
who had left their native Ireland for the relizious liberty found
in the wilds. During seven years after their settlement in the
woods, they enjoyed a life in which nothing of earthly comfort
was wanting. Every Sabbath morning the parents, in their
Sunday clothes, with their neatly-dressed and well-behaved
little ones, might be seen at the log mecting-house ; their
pocket Bibles containing the old Psalms in their hands

Turning over the leaves, they would follow the preacher in al]
ad 9the passages of Scriptur
his text. Their simple,
to rejoice.

But this happiness co

war which had gone over

  
  
 
 
   

CHAPTER XVI. 177

e cited by him, as he commented on

trustful piety caused the wilderness

uld not be lasting. The rumor of

the land, was heard even in this re-

mote section, and these refugees who had found peace could

not but sympathize with their oppressed brethren. Some, it

is true, from the vicinity, had been out in what was called

“the Snow Campaign,”—an expedition undertaken towards

the close of 1775 agains

t the fierce Cherokee Indians, and

certain loyalists in the upper districts ; Some had been present
at the attack on Sullivan’s Island in 1776, and brought a report

to those remaining at home. Yet, so far, this pleasant neigh-

borhood had been spared

; 1ts families were unmolested, and

the pure ordinances of the gospel were regularly administered,

with none to make them afraid. This immunity was of short

duration. Intelligence was brought of the surrender of

Charleston. Still worse was the news from across the river

—of the massacre at the
alline announcement. sp1
Pp g )

of British was posted at

Waxhaws. Directly after this ap-
‘ead the rumor that a strong party

Rocky Mount, that the people of

Wateree were flocking to take protection as loyal subjects, and

that the conquerors were sending forces in every direction to

reduce the province to submission. Such was the aspect of

affairs up to a certain Sabbath in June of this year.

On the morning of this memorable Sabbath, the different

paths leading to the log meeting-house were unusually throng-

ed. The old country folk

ness, especially the women, whose braw garments, brought
Gs

were dressed with their usual neat-ee ee

ee eee

Cae

pre aati hanes

ae

a ae

saitn

Co ene

 

178 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

from Treland, were carefully preserved, not merely from thrift,
but as a memorial of the green isle of their birth. Their
dresses of silk, chintz, or Irish calico—and the fine broad-cloth
coats, many colored hose, and silver knee-buckles worn by the
men—gave the congregation assembled to worship in that rude
sanctuary, a strange and motley appearance—Huropean
finery being contrasted with the homespun gowns, hunting-
shirts and moccasins of the country people. It was always
insisted on as a point of duty among the Covenanters, that
children should be brought to church with their parents. The
little ones sat between the elders, that they might be kept
quiet during divine service, and be ready at the appointed
hour for the catechism. The strict deportment and piety of
this people had already done much to change the customs
formerly prevalent; men and women who used to hunt or fish
on the Sabbath now went regularly to meeting, and some noto-
rious ones, whose misconduct had been a nuisance to the com-
munity, left the neighborhood.

On this particular day the whole neighborhood seemed to
have turned out, and every face wore an expression of anxiety.
Groups of men might be seen gathered together under shade-
trees in every direction, talking in loud and earnest tones;
some laying down plans for the assent of their friends; some
pale with alarm, listening to others telling the news, and some
transported with indignation, stamping the ground and gesti-
culating vehemently as they spoke. Everywhere the women
mingled with the different groups, and appeared to take an
active part in what was going on. At eleven o’clock the

venerable form of Martin, the preacher, came in sight. Heacne Ta Mle nana Hat nied Din ss Bhp TES

     
 
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 

SHAPTER XVI. 17S

was about sixty years of age, and had a high reputation for
learning and eloquence He was a large and powerful man,
with a voice which it is said might have been heard at a great
distance. As he walked from the place where he had hitched
his horse, towards the stand, it being customary, when the
congregation was too large to be accommodated in the mect-
ing-house, to have the service in the open air, the loud and
angry voices ceased, and the congregation was soon seated in
silence upon the logs around the stand.

When he arose to speak, every eye was fixed upon him.
Those who had been most noisy expected a reproof for their

desecration of the Sabbath ; for their faithful pastor was never

Fee

known to fail of rebuking those whose deportment was unsuit-
ed to the solemnity of the day. But at this time he too
seemed absorbed with the subject that agitated every bosom.
‘* My hearers,”’ he said, in his broad Scotch Trish dialect—
‘talk and angry words will do no good. We must fight !
As your pastor—in preparing a discourse suited to this time
of trial—I have sought for all light, examined the Scriptures
and other helps in ancient and modern history, and have con-
sidered especially the controversy between the United Colo-
nies and the mother country. Sorely have our countrymen
been dealt with, till forced to the declaration of their inde-
pendence. Our forefathers in Scotland made a similar one,
and maintained that declaration with their lives; it is now
our turn, brethren, to maintain this at all hazards.”

After the prayer and singing of the Psalms—he calmly
opened his discourse. He cited many passages from Scrip-

ture to show that a people may lawfully resist wicked rulers;yt
LL

ee eee

iiss UME HIE AE TLE EE

EO

 

180 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

pointed to historical examples of princes trampling vn the
people’s rights ; painted in vivid colors the rise and progress
of the Reformation, and finally applied the subject by fai: ly
stating the merits of the Revolutionary controversy. Giving
a brief sketch of the events of the war from the first shedding
of blood at Lexington, and warming with the subject as he
went on, his address became eloquent with the fiery energy of
a Demosthenes. In a voice like thunder, frequently striking
with his clenched fist the clapboard pulpit, he appealed to the
excited concourse, exhorting them to fight valiantly in defence
of their liberties. As he dwelt on the recent tragedy, his
indignation reached its height. Stretching out his hand to-

‘““the tender mercies

 

wards Waxhaw-—“ Go see,’’ he cried
of Great Britain! In that church you may find men, though
still alive, hacked out of the very semblance of humanity ;
some deprived of their arms, some with one arm or leg,
and some with both legs cut off. Is not this cruelty a pa-
rallel to the history of our Scottish fathers, driven from their
conventicles, hunted like wild beasts, &c. ?”?

To this stirring sermon the whole assembly responded.
Hands were clenched and teeth set in the intensity of feeling ;
every uplifted face expressed the same determination, and
even the women were filled with the spirit that threatened
vengeance on the invaders. During the interval of divine
worship they went about professing their resolution to do thei:
part in the approaching contest; to plough the fields and
gather the c.ops in the absence of the men. Inthe afternoon
the subject was resumed and discussed with renewed energy,

while the appeals of the preacher were answered by even more~ ETT EET TT ee a ae

      
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
  

CHAPTER XVI. 18}

energetic demonstrations of feeling. When the worship was
concluded, and the congregation Separating to return home-
ward, the manly form of Capt. Ben Land was seen walking
among the people, shaking hands with every neighbor and
whispering in his ear the summons to the next day’s work.
On the way home from meeting, one of the Covenanters—
William Anderson—was unusually silent, as if some weighty
matter engaged all his thoughts. His wife spoke first, after
she too had been reflecting. ‘TI think, William, little Lizzy
and I can finish the crop, and gather it in if need be, as well
as take care of the stock.””—“T am glad of that, Nancy,” was
the reply. “I was silent, for I did na ken how to let you
know it, but to-morrow morning I leave home. The way is
now clear ; the word of God approves, and it shall ne’er be
said that the Covenanters, the followers of the reformers of
Scotland, would na lend a helpin’ hand to the renewal of the be
Covenant in the land of America! Now, Nancy, Capt. Land
will be out before day, giving notice that up at the cross road
hard by, he will drill the men who are willing to fight; this
was agreed upon as [ left.”” Their conversation through the
day was in the same strain. That Sunday evening wore away,
and early on Monday morning the plough stood still in the
furrow, and the best horse, saddled and bridled, was at the
door. Mrs. Anderson had been up since a little after mid-
night, making hoe cakes on the hoe, and corn dodger in

the oven, and while the cooking of meats was going on, busily

Repent en

plying the needle, running up sacks and bags to Lold provi-

ee

sion for man and horse on a long journey. As soon as he
Q

4

 

atthe

SRST S.

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Se ne ee

eee.

ee ar re

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182 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

had taken his breakfast, William bade his wife farewell,
mounted and rode off.

The effect of Martin’s eloquence was speedily apparent.
Karly on that mornmg many of the Covenanters were seen
drilling on the musterground, seven miles from Rocky
Mount, under Capt. Land, while two miles above, at the
house of a negro blacksmith, half a dozen more were getting
their horses shod. Those at the musterground were charged
upon by a party of British dragoons and dispersed, a traitor
having carried news of them to the enemy. The Captain was
overtaken and surrounded, and being attacked with their
broadswords, defended himself bravely to the last. The
party at the blacksmith’s shop was also surprised, and one
man killed. The dragoons then crossed Rocky Creek, and
soon made their way to the rude stone hut which was the
preacher’s dwelling. They found the old divine in his study,
preparing a sermon which was to be a second blast, made him
their prisoner, and carried him like a felon to Rocky Mount.
The country was daily scoured for the purpose of discovering
and destroying the whigs, and the unoffending inhabitants
were plundered. Meanwhile, the loyalists were collecting and
strengthening the royal post.

The victory at the Old Field was followed by a battle at
Mobley’s Meeting-house, on the banks of Little River in
Fairfield District. This attack was proposed by Col. Wins
of Fairfield. A number of people from the vicinity had
assembled in obedience to a summons from the comman-
der at Rocky Mount, to take protection and enlist in the

royal army ; a suitable person being sent from headquartersCHAPTER XVI. 183

with a force sufficient to sustain him in any necessary movement.
This functionary after a while became wearied in the per-
formance of his duties, and indulged himself in a nap; on
awakening from which, some one accosted him with the ques-
‘ion: “What if McClure should come upon us?” He re-
plied—‘“ T wish he would, for I am full of fight.” This same
redoubtable champion was found after the battle ensconced in
the chimney corner.

In making his attack on this place, McClure surrounded
three sides of the house, the fourth being guarded by a precipice
down which it was supposed no one would venture. to leap,
though more British and loyalists perished in the attempt to
escape this way than by the rifles of his sharp-shooters. The
success of the Americans was as decided as it had been at
Beckhamville.SENNA!

 

   
   
  
   
 
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
  
   

OMAP THR x-VIr

INCURSIONS OF HUCK—BATTLE AT WILLIAMSON ’s—

‘BLOODY BILL CUNNINGHAM.”?

Tue “ outlyers” in the middle country gathered under the
command of Colonels Pickens and Williams, were not slow in
| doing their share of service. Many, too, of the patriots of
Hl York, Chester, and other border districts, who had fled to
North Carolina, organized themselves in companies, and under
brave leaders, began to collect on the frontier. McClure
spread his men in small parties over the country. They

harassed the enemy by sudden and desultory attacks. They

ere ee 2

depended on their own exertions for everything necessary to

i carry on the warfare ; tabernacled in the woods and swamps,

neers

with beasts of the forest, and frequently wanted both for food
5 | and clothing.

The report of the disaster at Mobley’s Meeting-house being

Taree ERE EERIE

carried to Rocky Mount, the commander of that post sent out

ecueeameencammeene ee

| | a strong party under Capt. Christian Huyck or Huck, in pur-
) suit of the whigs, who retreated across the Catawba, as far as

Lincoln County in North Carolina. On this incursion of the

Ft

royal troops, many outrages were committed on the helplessCHAPTER XVII. 185

Oo

famihes where they passed. On Sunday morning, June 11th,
the troops under Huck arrived at the house of the sister of
John Gaston, near Fishing Creek Church. They immediately
entered and plundered the house of everything, carrying away
also the corn and wheat. Some of the grain being acciden-
tally spilled in the yard, a tame pigeon flew down and picked
it up. The brutal captain struck the bird, cutting off its
head at a blow with hissword. Some of Huck’s men then went
to the barn, where Mrs. Strong’s son had gone shortly before
their arrival. He had taken his Bible with him, and was engag-
ed in reading the sacred volume. They shot him dead upon the
spot, and dragged him out of the barn. The officers then
began to cut and hack the dead body with their broadswords,
till the mother rushed from the house, and threw herself upon
the bleeding and mangled corpse, resolving to perish by the
cruel hands of her enemies, rather than see her child cut to
pieces before her eyes.

On that Sabbath morning, the wife of the Rev. John
Simpson, pastor of the church, while sitting at the breakfast
table with her children, heard the report of the gun at her
neighbor’s. On the Friday previous, Mr. Simpson had
shouldered his rifle and marched to the field under the com-
mand of Capt. McClure, who had been reared from infancy
under his ministry. There the pastor, taking .his place in
the ranks with the brave men of York and Chester, en-
couraged and stimulated them by his counsel no less than
his services. He had been marked out for vengeance, being

supposed active in encouraging the enterprise at the Old
Q*

   
  
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
  

 

TO oe ee- St tae ee ees es

5a EEE EE

 

186 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE: REVOLUTION.

Ficld and Mobley’s; and the enemy expected to find him on
this oceasion with his assembled congregation.

While the destroyers were at the church, some of the
negroes overhearing them declare their intention to go to Mr.
Simpson’s house and “‘ burn the rascal out,” hastened to carry
information to his wife, urging her to save herself and family
by immediate flight. She looked out, and saw a body of men
coming down the lane. Stopping only to gather up a set of
silver tea-spoons, most valued as a gift from her mother, she
took her four children and went out at the back door, conceal-
ing herself in the orchard in the rear. Here she was enabled
to watch the movements of her enemies, without being herself
discovered

They rifled the house of everything valuable, took out four
feather beds, and ripped them open in the yard; collected all
the clothing, from which they selected such articles as they
fancied for their own keeping, and having exhausted their in-
vention in devising mischief, finally set fire to the house,
which was soon burned to the ground. Just as they were
going away, they noticed an outhouse, which contained a valu-
able library, and was usually occupied by Mr. Simpson as a
study. This was soon also in flames. The men now left the
premises, and as soon as they were out of sight, Mrs. Simpson
hastened back to the house, rushed into the study and carried
out two aprons’ full of books. She could save no more, and
in doing this, was much burned. The feathers in the yard
had taken fire, but she succeeded in saving enough for one
bed. She then went to the house of one of her neighbors,

where she remained for four weeks, returning then to her own— TE ET OT EES IS RL

      
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 

CHAPTER XIIV.

   

187

place, and taking up her residence in a small outhouse which
haa escaped the enemy’s vengeance. Here she contrived to
live with her five children and a young friend, receiving con-
tinual assistance from the people of her husband’s charge, but
not yet free from depredation and danger. Atone time, when
she had procured some cloth, out of which to make clothing
for her children, she had cut out and was making up the gar-
ments, when a company of tories came along and plundered
her also of these. She complained to the leader of the party,
and he ordered his men to give them back. Some of the
gang were dressed in Mr. Simpson’s clothes, and strutting be-
fore her, tauntingly asked if they were not better looking men
than her husband; telling her at the same time, that they
wonld one day make her a present of his scalp! This ma-
rauding party took off her stock of cattle. Mrs. Simpson
begged them to leave her one milch cow for her little children,
but her request was refused. The property was restored,
however, in an unexpected manner ; after going two miles
further on their way, the robbers put the cattle in a pen till
morning; two large steers broke out during the night, opening
a way for the rest, and the whole flock returned home.

About this time a force of volunteers and militia assembled
under Gen. Rutherford, defeated a large party of loyalists
under Col. Moore, at Ramsour’s Mill. This battle, though
it was much spoken of by aged men of Rowan and Mecklen
burg, and deserves attention as the first American victory in
North Carolina, has not been particularly noticed by any his-
torian. Rutherferd’s cavalry, under the command of Col.

Falt, was in advance, and charged with great impetuosity,ge ee

en

ascents aed I ieee te eee ee EEE

 

 

188 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

but was met with so much firmness by the enemy, that the
column began to recoil. In the effort to restore order the
colonel fell from his horse mortally wounded. Col. Locke
was rapidly advancing meanwhile with his regiment to sustain
the charge, but the confusion in the cavalry, with riderless
horses dashing through the ranks, caused a panic among the
infantry. An authoritative voice called out from the midst
of the faltering ranks—‘‘ Retreat, men, and keep good order!”
The tories pressed on vigorously, and would have won the
day, but for the boldness of Capt. Dickey, who in a stentorian

voice asked—‘* Who was the villain who ordered a retreat ?”’

 

threatening to shoot him instantly through the heart. He
then called on the men to follow him and charge through the
tory lines, already somewhat disordered from their eager pur-
suit. The whigs rallied manfully, and rushed boldly to the
charge, those who had no bayonets using their guns for clubs.
Col. Fall, though near death, continued to cry out— Fight
on, my brave boys, ] die for liberty !’? The loyalists were
corapletely routed, and many prisoners taken, the leader being
captured afterwards by John Haynes, who was on guard at
an outpost. He came with a white flag to request leave to
visit his wounded, and was detained within the lines from tear
that his men would renew the attack on learning how small a
force had defeated them.

The whigs, gaining strength every day, and watchful for
an opportunity favorable to their return, at length passed
down the north side of the Catawba, and formed their camp
near a stream called Clem’s Branch, on the edge of Lancaster
District. This district and that of Chester lay in front, be-en Sle ee aliia a Se ea a Ta

         
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER XVII. 189

tween them and the British posts at Rocky Mount and
Camden. On one hand were the whigs of York, on the
other those of Mecklenburg County, which lay on the east,
the Catawba forming a defence on the west. No position
could have been more judiciously selected than this in, the
heart of a whig population, and in time came encouraging re-
inforcements. It was here that Thomas Sumter, after his
home had been burned and his family driven out shelterless,
when he came forth to action, found the men who had been
chased into North Carolina, resting upon the soil. of South
Carolina ; the line of division probably passing through the
camp.

During the weeks they occupied this encampment, the
patriots were not idle. Sergeant Ben. Rowan, with a few
men, went back into North Carolina nearly two hundred miles,
for the purpose of procuring lead, and drove pack-horses be-
fore them laden each with about two hundred and fifty pounds’
weight. Others were sent out after powder. The smiths
were busy in every direction, manufacturing swords, and mak-
ing and repairing those twisted rifles which did such destruc-
tive execution in the battles of the South. The active and
enterprising John McClure, with his company of mounted
riflemen, was constantly in the field, and others were out in
different directions through the country, encouraging the de-
sponding partizans, collecting recruits, and putting down the
loyalists wherever they could. These movements annoyed
and alarmed the British, who regarding the province as sub-
dued, were not disposed to brook disrespect from a few

stragglers Col. Floyd, a loyalist of York District, madeee ee a

ee

ULE LILLIE ILL LLL LN LASN DIEU EEE

Re

ae

 

190 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

grievous complaint at Rocky Mount, in consequence of which
the commander again sent out Capt. Huck with an order to
proceed to the frontier, and “ push the rebels.” With his
band of redcoats and tories he scoured the country, punishing
he ‘obnoxious, enlisting loyalists, and plundering property ;
everywhere, it is said, cursing Presbyterians, and burning those
Bibles which contained the old version of the psalms. In this
second progress he visited the house of the mother of Capt.
McClure. Her son James and a son-in-law had just returned
from Sumter’s camp. When the British drew near, both were
busily employed in running bullets, having melted up for this
purpose their mother’s pewter dishes. So occupied were they,
that the enemy had entered the lane before they were aware
of their presence. To escape was out of the question, but
James climbed the wall of a new house, and perched himself
upon some plank lying on the windbeams. Here he was soon
discovered and brought down, and with his brother-in-law,
taken out into the yard and searched. Their pockets were
full of pewter bullets, furnishing proof‘of their murderous de- —
sions against the King’s men, and the sentence was pronounced
that they were to be hanged at sunrise on the morning of the
12th of July. When the young men were secured, Huck step-
ped up to Mrs. McClure, and rudely asked where were her
other sons. She bade him seek them in Sumter’s camp.
Huck then seized the Family Bible, and threw it into the fire.
The matron sprang forward to recover it, and succeeded in
dragging it from the flames, though one corner of it was badly
burned. The captain struck her with the flat of his sword

for her interference, and the soldiers set fire to the house;CHAPTER XVII.

 

19]

but the women extinguished the flames. Others were busily
engaged in destroying her property, carrying off whatever ar-
ticles it suited their inclination to take. At length they
departed, driving their prisoners before them.

As soon as the intruders were gone, Mrs. McClure despatch-
ed her daughter in all haste to Sumter’s camp, to carry the
news of the outrage she had suffered and the captivity of the
young men. The young woman made her way to the camp,
arriving late in the evening. The Americans had heard for
several days previous of the march of Huck’s party through the
country, their progress being marked by cruelty and spolia-
tion, and some from the vicinity had fled to the camp for
safety. The news of the capture hastened their preparations
for the expedition against him, and just after sunsct the com-
panies of John McClure and John Bratton—the York and
Chester men—headed by their captains and under the com-
mand of Col. Neil, left Sumter’s camp. The distance to be
marched was thirty miles, and from the intelligence they had
received, it was supposed that the enemy would be found at
White’s (now Crawford’s) Mills, engaged in grinding the
wheat and grain they had been for several days gathering
throughout the country. The little band of patriots, only
seventy-five in number, but resolved to peril their lives in
avenging their neighbors’ injuries, made directly for the mill—
but did not find the enemy. The march was resumed, and a
little before day they passed the house of old Mr. Adair.
Observing the door ajar and light shining from the fire place,
Bratton went up gently to the door and tapped. The old

man was sitting up at the fire, two British officers having takenee ee

aartads

Fe ee

aa eee

 

 

192 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

his bed From him they learned the disposition of the enemy
at Williamson’s.

Huck’s party had stopped at Adair’s house on their way
to Williamson’s. After they had robbed Mrs. Adair of her
neckhandkerchief, rmgs and shoebuckles, and threatened to
hang her husband, one of the officers commanded her to bring
her sons into the King’s service, promising to obtain for each
a commission in the army. After they were gone, except the
two officers who had quartered themselves there, Mr. and
Mrs. Adair left the house quietly, and gained the shelter of a
thicket , for they knew there would shortly be fighting at their
neighbor’s. These were the parents of Goy. Adair, of Ken-
tucky, who acted so prominent a part at the battle of New
Orleans, a third of a century afterwards.

On the preceding evening, Huck had stopped at Col. Brat-
ton’s house and endeavored to persuade Mrs. Bratton to in-
fluence her husband to join the royalists. On the matron’s
indignant refusal, the tradition is, that one of his officers
seized a reaping hook that hung in the piazza, and brought it
to her throat. Another interfered to protect her. She was
then ordered to prepare supper for the men, after which they
left her dwelling.

The troops of Huck lay encamped around Williamson’s
house. A fenced lane, along which sentinels were posted,
vassed the door. About daylight the party of Americans, hav-
ing arranged their plan of attack, divided to enclose the enemy

McClure taking one division, went off to enter the lane at
the further end, where the attack was to be commenced, Neil

and Bratton entering at the near end, to take the enemy in7 ETT ET Oe ME ORL Rae

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  

CHAPTER XVII. 193

rear McClure took a nigh cut, and came on the side of the
lane, where he threw down the fence as he leaped over. It
was now so light that his brother James, who was confined
with other prisoners, in a corn crib, recognized him ; but when
the guard placed over them called out, ‘ Who is there >”? he
replied, indifferently, “‘ Oh, it is some of your tory friends.”’
The drums and fifes of the enemy now began to play for
morning parade. In an instant the sharp crack of McOlure’s
rifle announced that his part of the game had commenced.
Capt Huck instantly mounted, and several times rallied his
men; but the determined spirit of the patriots carried all
before them. The brief though bloody battle lasted about
an hour. The rout was complete. Huck and Col. Ferguson
fell,and their soldiers fled in all directions. Col. Bratton:s
house, around which the conflict raged, was open to the
wounded of both parties, and Mrs. Bratton humanely attended
the sufferers. Mrs. Adair also came to the battle ground, and
going to a tent where the captain, who had spoken with her
the night before, was lying, helped to dress his wounds, and
reminded him that he had ordered her to bring in her rebel
sons. ‘“‘ Here are two of them,” she said, ‘‘and if the third
nad been within a day’s ride, he would have been here also.”
The reply was—“‘ It is a little too late.”

McClure, mounted at the head of his men, pursued the fly-
ing enemy for nearly thirty miles. The bushes were the only
places of safety between Williamson’s and Rocky Mount.
many prisoners were taken in the pursuit, and some were hid

for weeks in the woods. The effect of this victory was of

CSO en

lasting advantage. From all the surrounding country men
9 BEpanache parame aa

se ei ner ire nL EEE

 

194 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

flocked to Sumter’s camp. It was about this time that “ the
Bloody Scout,” under the notorious Col. Cunningham, was
committing unprecedented cruelties on the inhabitants of
Union and Spartanburg Districts. This tory acted a promi-
nent part also in the partisan warfare of Laurens, Newberry,
and Edgefield Districts. He was commonly called “ Bloody
Bill Cunningham.’’ Plundering and murder were his voca-
tion, and his ruthless band was the terror of the country. A
nephew of Judge Gaston was inhumanly butchered in his own
yard, where he was occupied in shelling corn. His family
fled back to Chester, while others, repairing to Sumter’s camp
with a supply of powder, brought intelligence of “ Bloody
Bill’s” whereabouts. Another of John McClure’s services
was the driving of this notorious murderer from the vicinity
IIe was sent out by Sumter in pursuit of him, and having un-
derstood that he had crossed Broad River to the western side of
York District, he soon struck his trail, and chased him across
the district of Union. Cunningham fled some thirty miles
towards Nincty-Six, and barely escaped, while four of his men
were captured by McClure. The night he brought in these
prisoners, Sumter broke up his camp at Clem’s Branch, and

marched down to Col. Davie’s camp in the Waxhaws.CHAPLR ER LVEF

  
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
  
 

BATTLES op ROCKY MOUNT AND HANGING ROCK—~SURPRIS&

AT FISHING CREEK.

Tue attention of Gen. Sumter was now directed to the
royal post at Rocky Mount. On the 30th of July, the
troops took up their line of march. ol. Davie, with his
cavalry, took the road leading down the east side of the Ca-
tawba, to harass the British outposts at Hanging Rock, while
Sumter took the road to Landsford, crossed the river at sun-
set, and marching all night, at sunrise next morning invested
Rocky Mount.

The daughters of Justice Gaston, near whose house they
marched, mounted early and gallopped towards the scene of
action. While approaching, they met two or three fugitives,

whom they stopped, and bade them return. When they wa-

 

vered, one of the young women cried— Give us your guns,
then, and we will stand in your places !”? The men wheeled
about and returned. The females busied themselves during
the action in rendering whatever services were required ;
helping to dress the wounds of the soldiers, and bringing
water to allay their thirst. The action continued a great part

of the day ; the whigs firing from behind trees and rocks atCEE Ee

aan eee

eer

 

 

196 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

every crevice of the log houses occupied by the enemy’s gar-
rison. Attempts were also made to set fire to the buildings
by throwing faggots from the rocks, and by building brush-
heaps from the rocks to the houses ; but a heavy rain put out
the fire, and late in the evening, as it was very dark, Sumter
drew off his men. His want of success was compensated by
a brilliant exploit of Davie on the other side of the river, who
had charged upon a party of cavalry on their way to succor
Rocky Mount, and captured sixty horse.

That night Sumter encamped on the very ground where he
was surprised eighteen days afterwards. On the 6th of Au-
cust he again crossed the river, marched all night, and a little
after daylight commenced the battle of Hangmg Rock.
Hanging Rock is in Lancaster District, and remarkable not
only for its association with that eclebrated battle, but as a
natural curiosity. On the east side of the creek many rocks
are piled in an irregular group along the declivity of a steep
hill. That called Hanging Rock is a single mass twenty feet
m diameter, which on the side nearest the stream to which it
gives its name, is scooped into a regular arch, under which
several persons might be sheltered. Another boulder is
poised on the edge of a larger rock, resembling a ship resting
on the summit of a cliff, and looking as if a slight foree would
hurl it into the waters below. The battle ground is near this
spot. Sumter’s force, in three divisions, advanced on the
camp of the tories under the command of Col. Morgan Bryan.
His lines were posted on the brow of a steep hill beyond the
creek, while the British camp lay nearly half a mile distant.

Sumter’s centre line, led by the intrepid Capt. McClure,CHAPTER XVIII. 197

came first within the enemy’s view, and received the first fire.
The contest then raged fearfully ; bullets poured like hail;
McClure was wounded in the thigh, but plugging the wound
with wadding, dashed on in front of his men, his voice urging
them forward heard above the din of battle and the shricks
of the wounded. After firing, they clubbed their guns, rushing
into the camp and grappling with the foe. Where dead and
wounded lay in heaps, McClure fell, pierced with several
wounds, while at the same time his cousins, the four Gastons,
lay bleeding around him. Some near him ran to his relief ;
but he ordered them back to the fight, and as he lay weltering
in blood, his voice was still heard urging them on. As the
tories fled towards the British camp, many of the whigs rush-
ed pell-mell with them. One named Walker, hurrying along
in their midst, was about to fire on those before him, when a
tory close to him caught his arm, crying, ‘‘ Those are on our
side!” and then, as if struck with a sudden suspicion, asked
‘‘ What is that green leaf in your hat for??? The whigs had
taken the precaution to put each a leaf in their hats that
morning before going into battle. The soldier pulled out the
token, but the discovery was already made; one of the tories
seized his gun, the other ran a bayonet through his hunting
shirt. Letting the weapon go, he turned and fled back. ‘“* It
appeared to me,” he said, “‘ that they fired fifty guns after me ,
every leap I gave, I heard something fall on the leaves which
' took for blood, and thought I must be badly wounded, and
would soon fall exhausted. I thought of the intolerable thirst
[ had witnessed in those bleeding to death, and my mouth

bavan to feel parched. I had now reached the branch, and
g p aeCee ee

heard OTT Sei he SA REE EEO

 

 

198 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

stooped to drink. On examination I found I was not hurt,
but my powder horn was severely wounded, being pierced
through with a rifle ball, and having lost the greater portion
ut its contents.”

This battle was thought one of the most spirited and best
tought actions by raw militia,—all volunteers—against British
regulars, that took place during the war. It has not received
due attention from American historians. The engagement
lasted somewhat less than four hours, and was terminated by
the British sounding a retreat, and sending in a cag with over-
tures for a truce, to bury the dead and succor the wounded
McClure’s command sustained the largest share of the whole
loss. He himself, thus stricken down in the bloom of life,
was borne from the field to Waxhaw church, where the next
day his mother came to nurse her gallant son. In a day or
two the wounded were carried to Charlotte.

The news that a strong force, under the command of Gen.
Gates, was approaching for the relief of the Southern pro-
vinces, gaye a new impulse to the zeal of the patriots, and
brought recruits to the standard of Gen. Sumter. Lord
Rawdon concentrated his forces at Camden. By the 13th of
August Gen. Gates rested at Clermont, thirteen miles from
that town. He gave orders to Gen. Sumter to attack Carey
Fort. On the 15th, Gates commenced his night march, and
on the following day encountered the army of Lord Rawdon
near Camden. He suffered a disastrous defeat, and imme-
diately retreated into North Carolina.

The attack of Gen. Sumter on the convoy and Carey Fort

was crowned with success, and with his three hundred prison-CHAPTER XVIII. 139

ers and forty-four wagons loaded with munitions of war. he
hastened to join Gen. Gates. On the way he received the
news of his defeat, and also retreated, to place the stores he
had captured in safety. His march was slow, for he was en-
cumbered with prisoners and baggage-wagons—and a, large
part of his force was on foot. The march was kept up during
the nights of the 16th and 17th ; yet it was not more than
forty miles above Camden that he pitched his camp on the
ill-fated morning of the 18th of August. His encampment
was in the stronghold of Fishing Creek, two miles from its
junction with the Catawba, where a bend in stream and river
leaves a ridge of elevated ground between them, from which
both canbe seen. In front and rear of this space deep ravines
run from the river and the creck, leaving a narrow strip along
which the road passes, while below, the road left the ridge and
catered a valley with steep hills on either side. In this strong
position, guarded by the Catawba on the east, and the creek
on the west, the army feared no enemy’s approach.

When the army halted and struck their tents, the guard,
being mounted, repaired to their posts. The men in the
camp who had no duty to do, and were not too hungry, were
soon fast asleep in their tents, having had no rest for two
nights. Some were engaged in slaughtering beeves, and every
tew moments the crack of a rifle might be heard, while some
were cooking before the tents. The sentinels posted down
the road towards the ford of the creek, were marching up and
down the line appointed, while others of the guard made for
the river, desirous of a bath, as the weather was oppressively

warm, and intending to be back at the station in time to take200 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

their turn The British, under Tarleton, meanwhile, came
up the road from the stream unperceived, and found nene to
dispute their advance Each dragoon had a foot soldier
mounted behind him, and these dismounted near the camp.
The first intimation given of their approach, was a general fire
from Tarleton’s dragoons, instantly followed by a bold charge
into the midst of the camp.

In front, a short distance from the tents, Mrs. Peay, of
Fairfield District, was seated upon a log feeding her two chil-
dren. Her husband had gone into North Carolina after Gates’
defeat, to join his force, and she, having to leave home because
her neighbors were loyalists, thought it safest to travel with
the army. She had with her a negro boy and two horses.
As she sat upon the log, the British dragoons charged past
her, and she would have been run over had not the log been
large and furnished with branches, so that they were obliged
to pass round it. With the assault, resistance and endeavors
to escape, the wildest confusion ensued. She sat still, her

eyes fixed on the terrible spectacle, and saw the defenceless or

Se ee ee

sickening from the scene of massacre. See saw a few-of the

|

|

|

|

|

|

| slumbering men shot down or cut to pieces, till she turned
| regulars rallying behind the wagons, and returning the fire,

! and presently the bullets whistling near brought her to her re-

ee ee

collection. Slipping down from the log, she pulled the child-

SY,

dren after her, and kept them close by her side till the firing

PL EET

ceased. When the British left the ground they took her ser-

ees

vant and horses, and she was left with her children, alone with

: the dead and wounded. Next day she went with the little

Ee

ones, who were crying for bread, to the house of a tory livingTERE TR Re ORCL

    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     

CHAPTER XVIII. 201

in the neighborhood, to beg some food for them. We coolly
told her there was the peach orchard, and she might take what
she wanted ; it was good enough for a rebel.

Gen. Sumter had stripped off his coat and boots, for he
was in need of repose, and was lying fast asleep in his
marquée. In the moment of alarm Capt. Steel’s first thought
was for him. Regardless of his own safety, he ran directly
to the marquée, caught Sumter in his arms, and had carried
him out through the back part of the tent before he was fully
awake. He also seized the pormanteau in which, as he knew,
valuable public papers were carried, and brought it with him.
He bore the General to a horse ready saddled, and hastily
assisted him to mount, bareheaded as he was. His rangers
were already mounted and clustering round him, and under
their protection he brought Sumter through a shower of bul-
lets, while in all directions around them the soldiers were
running, as many as could catch horses mounting and making
off. Steel’s party was hotly pursued ; but whenever the
British came too near, the rangers would wheel suddenly and
fire upon them. As the foremost dragoons fell, their horses
running loose were caught and mounted by the flying soldiers,
and this proving a losing business, they soon abandoned the
pursuit and returned to the disordered camp. One of Steel’s
company, a noble-looking youth of eighteen, rode up by the
side of Sumter, took off his hat, and with a gesture of grace-
ful courtesy, presented it to the General, tying a handkerchiel
round his own head.

At the time of the surprise, it is supposed that between

one and two hundred young men were bathing in the river

Q*apne help

aortas

SEE

a

end

eee ee

 

 

202 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

The dragoons, pursuing those who fled, came in among them,
aud an indiscriminate slaughter ensued. One had his hair
‘ut with a bullet, and was so stunned he would have been
drowned, had not another dragged him upon arock. Three
were making for the opposite bank, when one of them called
vut that he was shot. His companions dragged him to a rock,
and then hid themselves till the British had left the river.
Many of the soldiers stood on the east bank of the river with
uo covering from the burning sun. Some of them went to
the house of McMeans, whose wife gave them all her husband’s
clothes, and even exhausted her own wardrobe ; so that more
than one of the survivors of that disastrous day went home in
petticoats !

Ben Rowan, “ the hoxer of the army,” heard the firing of
the sentinels in the direction of the creek, but supposed it to
be the killing of beeves a little further from the camp. He
was startled by the enemy’s broadside, and seein

In an in-

g
stant that all was lost, ran for safety to the place where the
three hundred prisoners were under guard. They were shout-
ing for joy and flinging up their hats, when with his Hercu-
lean strength he foreed himself a pathway through and over
them. Just as he got through them, he saw a loose horse
grazing, and flung himself upon the animal without saddle or
bridle, slapping first with one hand and then with the other to
direct his course. The horse went off at a brisk pace through
the woods, and Ben made good his escape, to be an actor in
every subsequent battle of the South.

Joel McClemore, as he ran through the camp, picked up a

rifle, not knowing if it were leaded or not ; he was presentlyCHAPTER XVIII. 203

 

pursucd by a dragoon, and after dodging from tree to tree
for some time, got near the fence and succeeded in crossing it.
It then occurred to him that the open field was not so safe ue
the woods in case of continued pursuit, and turning round, he
said to the dragoon, in his Virginia vernacular, “I'll cat fire
if you cross that fence but I’ll shoot you!”’ The dragoon put
spurs to his horse, and as he leaped Joel drew trigger at a
venture. The gun went off, and the man fell, while the horse
leaped the fence Joel lost no time in mounting, and thus
escaped with a fine horse, holster and pistols. A few regulars
who contended for a time behind the wagons against over-
powering numbers, were forced to yield. Everywhere up the
river and creek the woods were full of men flying for their
lives, while some who escaped butchery were driven back to
the camp by the troopers

The prisoners were placed under a strong guard, having to
do without dinner as well as breakfast, with the prospect of the
gibbet before many who had taken British protection, when
they should reach Camden. Tarleton remained master of
the field of slaughter, for it could not be called a battle. By
his order the wagons for which they could not find horses were
collected together and consumed, with such articles as could
not conveniently be taken away. Long before sunset the
British commenced their return march towards Camden, leay-
ing the dead unburied, and the wounded who could not be
removed, to perish. The march was continued several hours
after dark. Some of the prisoners effected their escape by
dropping off on the way and lying down till they were passed.

The scattered men of Sumter’s army with one accord madeae

ea ee re et

Rae a REI

Mee

ee ee oe ee

 

 

204 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

their way to Charlotte, as if that destination had been previ-
ously appointed. Those who went home stayed only long
enough to procure such articles of clothing as they had lost,
and went on. They might be seen the next day upon every
road leading towards Charlotte. Sumter himself went on the
same night.

Capt. Berry, who with some of his men had escaped after
the defeat of Gen. Gates, on the night of the 17th wandered
up the river as far as George Wade’s house.* Wade, who
came home in the night, gave him three hundred pounds of
flour for his soldiers, and informed him that Gen. Sumter
would be on the other side of the river the next morn-
ing. Berry crossed the next day with his command, and had
not been an hour in camp before the surprise took place, in
which he was captured; thus leaving one disastrous field to
meet misfortune in another.

* Arecord cf the military movements of this time is extant in a

manuscript written by George Wade, then one of the wealthiest

planters on the CatawbaNee

   
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
     

CirA PR BX EX:

ZEURPRISE OF STEEL—CONDITION OF THE COUNTRY.

Wuite Gen. Sumter proceeded to Charlotte after the sur-
prise, Capt. Steel returned by his order, with some fifteen
men. His business was to collect recruits, and send them to
join the General, who intended to rally his forces at Charlotte.
On this mission he traversed the country day and night.
Another object was to find the valise containing the publie
papers, which had been dropped by the man to whose care it
was entrusted, shortly after they left the camp, and was sup-
posed to be lost somewhere in the woods. Stcel recovered it
from a tory who had found and carried it to Wateree Creek.
On his way back he chanced to meet the wife of one of his
acquaintances, and stopped to bid her tell her husband that al’
patriots were summoned to meet their General at Charlotte,
and that he must come and join him the next morning at
Neely’s on Fishing Creek, whence he could go on with his
party. He was not aware that the man to whom he sent this
message had turned loyalist. The woman, of course, imme-
diately carried the news to her husband, who set out to collect

tories for the purpose of intercepting Capt. Steoi, travelling
8epee.

ee

ee ete

flee eae ean ee

 

206 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

all night through the neighborhood, for the attack was to be
at Neely’s on the following morning,

Meanwhile the brave captain, suspecting no treachery,
reached his home late that night, and once more embraced the
excellent mother who had trained him to his present career of
duty. Early the next morning he set off for Neely’s, about
four miles distant, Mrs. Steel accompanying him on horseback
When they arrived, Mrs. Neely and her daughters imme-
mediately busied themselves jn preparing breakfast. The

horses were hitched to trees in the yard, and two other daugh-

ters of the landlady: went out into the cornfield to keep watch.

All was silent for some time ; at length aman named Lock-

art left the premises, followed by a young lad, to get his

horse from the pasture. While going through the field, he

saw a body of tories, in two divisions, approaching through the

standing corn. The leader, wl

10m he recognized as one of
his near neighbors and a noted loyalist, waved his hand at
him in token that he should keep silence

- Lockart paid no
heed to the signal, but hall

oed with all his might to give the
alarm at the house. Thereupon another of the advancing
party snapped his gun at him ; Lockart then taking d

aim at the leader, fired and cut off his

eliberate
bridle reins, crippling
one of his fingers, and stopping not to see the effect, turned
and fled precipitately. In his flight he fell into a de
which probably saved him, for the tories’ shots passed over
him as he lay still. The leader's horse in the me
fright, ran away with him before he could recover his control

vf the bridle. This accident in all likelihood saved the party

ep gully,

antime taking

at the house.Beg hh ee esi SEE SS SN ete ed

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER XIX. 207

Mrs. Steel was engaged at the time in combing the cap-
iain’s hair. He boasted a remarkably fine head :f hair ; it
was very long and of raven blackness, and was usually worn
tied in a queue behind. John’s important services to the
xhig cause, employing him both night and day, had of late
teft him little leisure for attention to his locks; they had been
long uncombed, and probably showed very plainly the neglect
they had experienced. The personal appearance of her son
was a matter of pride to the matron, only less than her de-
light in his gallant conduct. While thus occupied, they heard
the sharp crack of the rifle, followed immediately by Lockart’s
warning shouts, and the screams of the young girls who had
been stationed in the field. Ina moment after, several guns
were fired in quick succession, and the girls were seen running
towards the house, while the two divisions of the enany, wb no
great distance behind them, could be perceived advancing
through the standing corn. Not an instant was to be lost;
yet such was the effect of sudden surprise on the brave men
who, only two days before, had been taken unawares on Fish-
ing Creek, that they seemed utterly at a loss what todo. Mrs.
Steel alone retained perfect self-possession. Starting up, she
called to them, “‘ You must fight!” but directly, seeing the
confusion that prevailed, she shouted an order for them to
“ clear themselves” as fast as possible. She urged her son to
mount his horse at once, and save the public papers in his
charge, while she pulled down the bars to let out him and his
men. John was quick in all his movements, and it may easily
be conceived that no time was wasted. Trst in the saddle,

he spurred his noble horse towards the bars which he eiearedee oe

I a

eee

2's DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

at a bound—his mother having had no time yet to let them
down—and galloped off. He was followed by the greater
number of his men, for whom Mrs. Steel removed the bars as
fast as she could ; some, however, were slower m getting off,
and paid the penalty of their delay, being now exposed to the
fire of the advancing tories.

About fifty guns were discharged at the bars, and two of
the whigs fell dead from their horses, bearing Mrs. -Steel
under them to the ground. One who could not get his horse,
in leaping had part of his foot shot off. Another’s hunting-
shirt filling with the wind as he rode, was riddled through and
through with bullets that missed his body. Capt. Steel, de-
termined to cut his way through the assailants, rode foremost
up the lane at full speed, his long hair, unfastened, streaming
in the wind, his rifle in one hand, held high above his head in
defiance of the foe. He was closely followed by those of his
company who had escaped. The tories, startled by the fury
of their onset, gave way and scattered from the road, nor were
they able to rally till the fugitives were beyond their reach.
The whigs who were taken prisoners were carried to Camden ;
one or two died in the jail there, while others languished for
seven months, suffering incredible cruelties.

Meanwhile the first thought of Mrs. Steel, as she struggled
to release herself from the weight of the dead bodies, rising from
the ground covered with their blood, her dress pierced in dif-

 

ferent places with bullet holes—was for “‘ John and the
papers.”” When she heard they were safe, she burst into an
exclamation of thankfulness, and as she was fortunately un-

hurt, turned her attention to the relief of others. Theaa a a al wn aos teeta = Gin St LAN MEER

      
  
  
  
 
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
  
  
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

CHAPTER XIX. 209

<

tories, enraged at their disappointmeat, with one accord
turned their course tv Mrs. Steel’s house. This they burned
to the ground, and destroyed her property of every descrip-
tion, wherever they could find anything belonging to her.

The captain often related this adventure, and said ths:
while flying along the lane with his hair streaming, he thought
of Absalom, and vowed, if he escaped his fate while passinz
under the trees, to sacrifice the hair which had brought him
into such peril. A youth in his company who also wore his
hair in a queue, had it cut off by a rifle ball as he leaped the
bars. The vow he then made was different from the captain’s ;
for he resolved to wear it long while he lived, in defiance of
British or tories, and religiously kept his resolution for more
than half a century.

While the men flying from the disastrous field of Gen.
Gates’ defeat, were continually coming to Charlotte, and pass-
ing on, the gallant Capt. McClure was approaching the termi-
nation of his brief and brilliant career. The hero drew his
last breath in Liberty Hall—-the room in which the Mecklen-
burg Declaration was penned by Dr. Brevard—probably at the
very hour when his compatriots under Sumter were routed
fifty miles below. At the time there was a report that the
British were coming, and everybody was leaving Charlotte.
It was proposed to bury the corpse without a coffin. but his
mother insisted on having him decently interred.

There were no men to render the last offices to the
dead on the field of Sumpter’s defeat, and it devolved upon
the women to go down to the battle ground and see

that they received sepulture. Mary Johnston, accomem

eee

a

gota <

Raa E

ee

Oe OO

210 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

panied by Miss McClure, went the same night to Justice
Gaston’s, and found at home only the Justice, Mrs. Gaston
ad their granddaughter, Margaret McCreary. The house
had been plundered of everything, and that night the
aged couple slept upon cowhides, the two young women and
Margaret occupying hides stretched on the floor. The next
morning they prevailed on Margaret to accompany them to
the field. As they drew near the spot of the disaster, with a
natural reluctance to go alone where they must encounter so
appalling a spectacle, they called at the house of a loyalist, _
and with some difficulty persuaded him to accompany them.
Mrs. Johnston found the corpse of her father, hastily buried.
Some of the bodies lay uncovered, and several were slightly
covered with earth, which the hogs had partly rooted away.

Many of the women went to Charlotte to carry clothes and
provisions to their friends. On their return, they were met
by anxious inquiries from those who were uncertain as to the
fate of their kindred. They also carried supplies to Camden,
whither the unfortunate prisoners had been conveyed, driving
pack-horses laden with the different articles. One Mary Gill,
on a journey thither with a friend, chanced to stop for the
night at a small cabin in the pine woods. She had suspicions
of the place, which were confirmed when she saw a man £0
out at the back door as they asked admittance ; but they were
unable to go further, and concluded to avail themselves of the
shelter. She determined, however, to keep watch, and tying
her horse to the hasp of the door, she seated herself on the
step, holding the reins in her hand. A tory within the

cabin, not long afterwards, having parched some corn on theCHAPTER XIX. ot

hearth, invited her with much importunity to come and
take some. She left the horse for a moment to do so; but on
returning to the door found the rope cut and the horse gone
She charged the tory with having a hand in this piece of vil-
lany, and being of masculine strength, threatened to punish
him ; but he protested his innocence, and her companion in-
terceded for him. On her arrival at Camden, Miss Gill com-
plained to a British officer, who promised to attend to the
matter ; but the horse was never recovered.

One striking instance of devotion and heroism should be
mentioned. Thomas McCalla, a soldier in Capt. Steel’s com-
pany, had been taken a prisoner to Camden. For a month his
wife could obtain no tidings of him. In the midst of her dis-
tress, her children fell ill with the small-pox—that dreadful
scourge of the whole country—-and after their recovery she
determined to go to Camden to seek her husband. Having
set her house in order, she was in the saddle long before day,
taking the road leading down on the west side of the Catawba.
The mountain gap on Wateree Creck was passed ere the sun
rose, and by two o’clock she had crossed the river, pass-
ing the guard there stationed, and entered Camden. Desiring
to be conducted to the presence of Lord Rawdon, she was
escorted by Major Doyle to the head-quarters of that com-
mander, who then occupied a large ancient-looking house on
the east side of the main street.

Her impression at first sight was favorable ; he was a fine-
looking young man, with a countenance not unprepossessing.
Being desired to explain the object of her visit, she pleaded

lier cause with the eloquence of nature and feeling; makingpieieeindciciec nar naan meccnmcameermerencetecre

pesdnias

gee

ee

212 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

known the distressed situation of her family at home, the
anxiety of mind she had suffered on account of the absence
of her husband and her ignorance of his fate, and her urgent
need of his care and protection. From Major Doyle she had
at length learned that he was held a prisoner by his lordship’s
orders. She had come, therefore, to entreat mercy for him ;
to pray that he might be released and permitted to go home
with her.

Lord Rawdon heard her to the end. His reply was—“I
would rather hang such rebels than eat my breakfast.” This
insulting speech was addressed to his suppliant while her eyes
were fixed on him in the agony of her entreaty, and the tears
were streaming down her cheeks. His words dried up the
fountain at once, the spirit of an American matron was
roused, and she turned on him a look of the deepest scorn.
A moment after, with a struggle to control her feelings, she
said, “ T crave of your lordship permission to see my hus-
band.” Doyle now interposed, and requested his lordship to
step with him into another apartment. When they returned,
Rawdon said to his visitor, with a stately coldness— Major
Doyle, madam, has my permission to let you go into the prison.
You may continue in the prison ten minutes only. Major,
you have my orders.” So saying, he bowed politely both to
her and the officer, as intimating that the business was ended,
and they were dismissed. They accordingly quitted the room.

Thus ended the interview from which she had hoped so
much. What had been granted seemed a mockery rather
than an alleviation of her sorrow. But even this indulgence,

the Major informed her, had been reluctantly granted at hisCHAPTER XIX. 213

earnest intercession; and he took occasion to blame her own
exhibition of spirit. “It was with great difficulty,”
he observed, “that 1 got this permission for you. Ils
lordship said, ‘She can ery, and I believe she can fight, too!
did you see what a look she gave me? Major, such a woman
might do harm; she must not be permitted to pass and re-
pass, unless some one of the officers is with her. She must
stay only ten minutes, and it must be in your presence.’ ”’

The sight of the prison-pen almost overcame the fortitude
of the resolute wife. An inclosure like that constructed for
animals, guarded by soldiers, was the habitation of the unfor-
tunate prisoners, who sat within on the bare earth, many of
them suffering with the prevalent distemper, and stretched
on the ground, with no shelter from the burning sun of Septem-
ber. “Isit possible,” cried she, turning to Doyle, “ that you
shut up men in this manner, as you would a parcel of hogs !”’
She was then admitted into the jail, and welcome indeed was
the sight of her familiar face to MeCalla. When the ten
minutes had expired, she again shook hands with him, assur-
ing him ske would shortly return with clothes for his use, and
what provisionsshe could bring ; then turning, she walked away
with a firm step, stopping to shake hands with young John
Adair and the other captives with whom she was acquainted.
The word of encouragement was not wanting, and as she bade
the prisoners adieu, she said, “‘ Have no fear ; the women are
doing their part of the service.” ‘‘T admire your spirit,
madam,” Doyle observed to her, “‘ but must request you to be
a little more cautious.”

Mrs. McCalla was furnished by the Major with a pass,

SR eee oe

Oe aae en

Seen ee tae meme endeaaae

214 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

which she showed to the officer on duty as she passed the
guard on her return, and to the officer at the ferry. She
rode with all speed, and was at home before midnight ; having
had less than twenty-four hours for the accomplishment of
her whole enterprise ; in that time riding one hundred miles,
crossing the river twice, and passing the guard four times

It is proper to say that she met with kind treatment from
other British officers at this time, for they were favorably im

pressed by her courage and strength of affection. yen the
soldicrs, as she passed them, paid her marks of respect. The
tories alone showed no sympathy nor pity for her trials ; it be-
‘ag constantly observed that there was deeper hostility towards
the whigs on the part of their countrymen of different politics,
than those of English birth.

Mrs. MeCalla began her work immediately after her arrival
at home; making new clothes, altering and mending others,
and preparing the provisions. Her preparations being com-
pleted, she again set out for Camden. This time she had
the company of one of her neighbors, Mrs. Nixon, whose bro-
ther, John Adair, has been mentioned as among the prisoners.
Each of the women drove before her a pack-horse, laden with
the articles provided for the use of their suffering friends.
From this time she made her journeys about once a month,
carrying clean clothes and provisions; being often accom-
panied by other women bound on similar errands, and convey-
Ing articles of food and clothing to. their captive fathers,
husbands and brothers.

One of the patriotic efforts of the women of Fishing Creek

neighborhcod is worth remembrance. The rich lands wereEET ET ES NE

       
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
    

CHAPTER XIX. 215

well adapted for the growth of wheat, which was extensively
cultivated by the ‘ Pennsylvania Irish’ settlers. The har-
vest was in June; but all the men able to bear arms having
taken the field, none remained to secure the crop, on which
the support of their families depended. The young women,
with spirit equal to that of their gallant brothers, formed a
company of reapers for cutting and garnering the grain
They went day after day from one farm to another, and
reaped the crop with the assistance of the matrons and a few
old men. The only question they asked was, “ Is the owner
out with the fighting men?” and an affirmative answer was
sufficient to engage them at once in the labor. It was no
gmall undertaking, five or six weeks of unceasing toil being
necessary to gather in the harvest through the country. It
seemed that Providence smiled on the generous enterprise ;
there were no storms during that period to ravage the fields,
and it was related for years afterwards as very remarkable,
that some of the erops of 1780 were secured several weeks
after the grain was fully ripe. Scarcely was the work ac
ofore British and tories were plundering every

complished, b
stermined to vanquish

where aud laying waste the country, de
the spirit of resistance by distressing rebel families.

During the summer, families through the country, near the
scene of warfare, lived chiefly on roasted corn, without bread,
meat, or salt. Hickory ashes were used, with a small quan-
tity of salt, for preserving beef when it could be had. Leather
ags sewed round the feet, and

The beds were gene-

shoes were replaced by woollen r

of beds and bedding nothing was left.

rally ripped open by the depredators, the feathers scattered
ov Lee ee

ee

a eee ee

a em

could ; sometimes depositing or

216 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

and the ticking used for tent cloths. The looms were robbed
of the cloth found in them; and hence the females of the
country resorted to various expsdients to manufacture cloth-
Ing, and preserve it for their own and their friends’

family living on Pacolet River buil

use. A
t a loom between four treeg
in the forest, and wove in fair weather, covering the loom and

web with cow-hides when it rained. On one occasion, when

the whigs had obtained a quantity of salt by taking a fort, it
was sent up by wagons to York District, to be distributed by
pecks among the widows of those who had fallen in battle.

The women went on horseback for their necks. At anothe
I

time, one rode eighty miles for a bush

appropriated for the purchase, in tl

of her head.

‘1, concealing the guinea

1e hair braided on the top

Not only did the labors of the field devolve on the women

during this period, but they frequently had to devise means

of assisting or sheltering the hunted whigs. Their friends

could not venture on a visit home without watching their op-

portunity. North of Fishing Creek settlement lay the black-

jack region, at that time an Open prairie, on which persons

could be seen ata great distance. The patriots coming to

visit their families, always endeavored to pass over this plain

by night, though to do so they were often under the necessity
y Hight, 5 ) iy

of lying by all day. Ag they approached their homes, they

usually discovered some signal hune out by the women, b
Ny = oO Vy: 3 iy.

which they understood whether or not they could enter their

houses with safety.
The whigs concealed as much of their property as they

ain for the use of their familiesCHAPTER XIX. SAF.

ow

mm the barns of kind-hearted loyalists. A cave, still to be

seen in a deep ravine on Rocky Creek, was a place of deposit

for many articles, hidden from.the cruel marauders who took
advantage of the state of confusion to plunder helpless fami-
lies. Gangs of robbers went about through the country, and
it might truly be said that spoliation and murder were the

urder of the day. Well ran the old song--

“ Carolina, South and North,
Was filled with pain and woe:
The tories took their neighbors’ worth.

And away u whty inust go.’’ee

ae

Cee a

 

a ANP Ee ee

      
    
   
 
 
 
  
  
 
   
   
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
 

THE WARNING AT GREEN SPRING—BATTLE OF KING’s

MOUNTAIN-—BLACKSTOCKS—STATE OF CHARLESTON
AND THE COUNTRY
Tue late succession of disastarg had completely prostrated

But the dark hour was the har-
binger of brighter prospects ; far up among t
¢ Cc a i Cc

the country’s rising hopes

he mountains

were gathered bands of patriots, ere long to descend like the

mountain torrent from their heights, It is said that more

than three thousand were collected at Gilberttown, Ruthe rford,
North Carolina. In September, Lord Cornwallis iespweued

Col. Ferguson to the fronti er, to sweep the country, and en-

courage the loyalists to take up arms. A number of aban-
o J

doned outlaws hung around his camp, committing depredations

and eruclties wherever they passed ; bbing whigs of their

negroes, horses, cattle, and every valuable article of property

The militia of the country assembled to interrupt their march,

and several skirmishes took place between the straggling par-
ties,

One battle of considerabl le importance was fought in
tanburg District, at the “Green Spring.”” About two hun-

dred men, commanded by Col Clarke, of tke Georgia volun-

Spar-CHAPTER XX. S19

teers, having received intelligence that a larger body of tory
militia was recruiting for the horse service, under the eom-
mand of Ferguson, determined to attempt to rout them. The
Americans stopped for refreshment at the house of Capt.
Dillard, who was with them as a volunteer, and were cuter-
tained with milk and potatoes. They marched on, hearing
that a scouting party was in advance of Ferguson’s station,
and encamped for the night at Green Spring. The same
evening Ferguson, with a party, arrived at Dillard’s, and made
inquiries respecting Clarke and hismen. Mrs. Dillard replied
that they had been gone a long time, and at the bidding of
the officers prepared supper. Going to and from the kitchen,

she overheard much of their conversation, and ascertained

eee

that they knew where Clarke was encamped, and were to pur-

sue him, with a view to a surprise, as soon as they had taken

vs REGS
SOCAL IA DL os

their meal. No time was to be lost. She hurried the supper, a
and as soon as the officers had sat down, slipped out by a back
way. Late and dark as it was, her determination was to go
herself and apprise Clarke of his danger, in the hope of being
‘1 time for him to make a safe retreat; for she believed that
the enemy were too numerous to justify a battle.

She went to the stable, bridled a young horse, and without
saddle, mounted and rode with all possible speed to the place
described. It was about half an hour before day when she
came in full gallop to one of the videttes, by whom she was
immediately conducted to Col. Clarke. She ealled to the
colonel, breathless with eagerness and haste, ‘‘ Be m readi

ness either to figkt or run; the enemy will be upon you im-

 

mediately, and they are strong !”ee
ee ee ele

a a eT

 

 

 

220 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

In an instant every man was up, and no moments were lost
In preparing for action. The intelligence came just in time
to put the whigs in readiness. Ferguson had detached Dun-
fap, with two hundred picked mounted men, to engage Clarke
tnd keep him employed till his arrival. These rushed in full
sharge into the American camp ; but the surprise was on their
part. ‘l’hey were met hand to hand, with a firmness they had
not anticipated. Their confusion was increased by the dark-
ness, which rendered it hard to distinguish friend from foe.
The battle was warm for fifteen or twenty minutes, when the
tories gave way.

Col. Ferguson hastened to secure himself an advantageous
position for contending with the mountaineers collected to
oppose him. He left one of his men concealed in the cellar
of a house on the road side, whose business it was to ascertain
the number and character of those who were pressing on his
tear. This spy making himself rather conspicuous, was taken
by the pursuing whigs, and forced to give the information they
desired. The practice among their riflemen of picking off
the officers in an engagement, had produced much confusion

in the British ranks, and it being known to the leaders, some

had adopted the expedient of disguising themselves before

going into action. This prisoner was asked if Ferguson went

to battle in disguise, and said, ‘“ He has a large check shirt

which he wears over his uniform.” This information being

spread among the soldiers, it is easy to account for the fact

that Col. Ferguson was shot through the arm at the com-

mencement of the battle of King’s Mountain ; his fine whiteRe nei Ps Boe ng ait; S SS
a ie Ae Se Ee RE I eR ee eT ET EARP RST AYRE: Pe

    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 
   

CHAPTER XX. 221

horse being seen not long after, dashizg down the hill without
a rider

While the “liberty men,” of the frontier districts had fled
to the mountains, the women, busily occupied in the labors of
the house and field, were harassed by visits from marauding
A notorious robber, one Edmund Russell, was
After the battle

loyalists.
known to have his retreat at Sandy River.
of King’s Mountain, a party of twenty whigs, headed by
White had ventured
home to see how matters were going on, and finding his wife
and sisters in the field with a basket of wheat which they

were beginning to sow, he alighted from his horse to show

William White, went in quest of him.

them ‘the cast of the hand,” as he called it,—not venturing
more, for he knew his movements were watched. The enemy
heard, indeed that he “‘ was at home sowing wheat,”’ and sent
men to capture him after he had gone after Russell.

The robber, afraid to live above ground, had made himself
a den in the earth some distance from his house, where he had
provisions brought to him. This den was in the woods, and
so covered as to be undistinguishable from the ground above
it. When the whigs were approaching his house they met
two children carrying a bottle of milk, but could obtain from
them no information as to his whereabouts. One of the party
suddenly exclaimed—‘‘ Here is smoke issuing from the
ground ;”? and presently Russell sprang out and ran away.
Fear lent him wings, but it was of no avail, seventeen guns
being fired at him in rapid succession.

The battle of King’s Mountain was soon followed by the

retreat of Lord Cornwallis from Charlotte to W innsbore
re

 

Sarre
FD AP

Sacha:

Semerceeeeaniateoe

 

 

 

ee

Sales

Sime
omen

eee a a Ae ee

2232 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

The militia of the county took toll as the British army passed,
at every suitable thicket ; a single whig sometimes riding up,
picking off his object, and making good his escape. Col.
Tarleton for a short time halted his legion at White’s Mills on
Fishing Creek, midway between Charlotte and Winnsboro, on
a lookout for the mountain men on their return from the scene
of the battle. Cornwallis encamped on the plantation of John
Service, a shrewd fellow, who succeeded in making the British
commander believe him an idiot. On being told his lordship’s
name, he asked “if he was related to John Wallis the sho >-
maker up the road.” Lord Cornwallis gave orders that not-
thing of the simpleton’s should be molested.

On the 12th of November, Col. Wemyss, who attacked
Sumter’s band of volunteers, was defeated and taken prisoner.
After this action, Gen. Sumter, aware that Tarleton had been
despatched in pursuit of him, with a view to another sur-
prise like that on Fishing Creck—made a hasty retreat, and
took up his position at Blackstock’s, near Tyger River. On
the retreat he sent Col. Taylor, with a detachment of fifty
ron, to fetch flour from a mill in the vicinity. Taylor ex-
pected the General to remain where he was til] his return ; but
shortly after his departure information was brought of the
near approach of Tarleton’s cavalry, and Sumter moved off to
secure his position. Taylor knew nothing of Tarleton’s a
proach, and was not a little displeased when

the flour and did not find the General.

pP-
he returned with
His men were hun.

gry, and he allowed two or three hogs to be cleaned and con]

ed, and some of the flour made into bread.

{=<
While the sol-

diers were baking the bread, in the fashion of Johnunyeake, onCHAPTER XX. 293

 

pieces of pine bark, two officers who had been sent back by
Sumter to watch the enemy’s movements, dashed up in fiery
haste to bring the news that Tarleton was just at hand. The

and the men drove the wagon into camp ata full gallop. Ag

oy
©

hogs and the dough were thrown into the wagon uncorked, \
f
HI

they turned the corner of a little stable the firme commence”.

In this action Sumter received a severe wound, and was ¢ai-

 

ried on a litter the same night into North Carolina. Capt
Steel returned home in November, and by the aid of his ran-
gers, reduced his neighborhood to order, organizing the militia
bringing some of the tories to trial and execution for murder,
driving others of the worst from the country, and pardoning
less culpable offenders who promised reformation. The con-
dition of the times demanded such summary measures; a
fatal disease threatened destruction to the body of the state,
and it needed a sharp weapon and an unshrinking hand to
eradicate it.

The deplorable sufferings of the unfortunate prisoners m
Charleston had moved the sympathy of the people of Western
Carolina; for news came that many were perishing of want
and disease. The men could not go thither ; but the women
gathered clothing, medicines, and provisions, and travelled
long journeys, encountering danger as well as hardship, to
minister to them. The mother of Andrew Jackson, return-
ing to the Waxhaws, after a journey to Charleston to carry

clothing and other necessaries to some friends on board the
oO

 

prison ship, was seized with the prison fever, and died in a
tent, in the midst of the wide, sandy wilderness of pines. She

apd her children had quitted their home after the slaughter

UvDeen eee

eee te ee ee

ee

Dees

este

ee eer

   

224 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

of Buford’s regiment, when the women and children fled from

the ravages of the merciless enemy, and had found a place of
g Y>

refuge in Sugar Creek congregation, where they remained

during part of the summer.

In Charleston many cruelties were exercised, not only on

t:2 imprisoned soldiers, but on the unoffending inhabitants—

women and children.

The patriotic ladies refused to join in

the amusements of the city while in the hands of the British ;

but gave their energies to the relief of their friends, being the

more active when military efforts were suspended.

Many and

ingenious were the contrivances they adopted, to carry sup-

plies to the defenders of their country.

Sometimes cloth for

a coat, fashioned into an appendage to female attire, would be

borne away, unsuspected by the vigilant guards, and after-

wards converted into regimental shape.

Boots, ‘‘a world too

wide” for the delicate wearer, were often transferred to the

partisan who could not procure them for himself.

A horse-

man’s helmet has been concealed under a well-arranged head-

dress ; and epaulettes delivered from the folds of a matron’s

simple cap.

Other articles in demand for military use, ax

feathers and cockades, more easily conveyed, were regularly

brought by some stratagem or other.

Mr. Simms says, “ The women would often procure

passes to go to their farms or plantations in the country.

They seized these occasions for carrying forth supplies of

cloth, linen, and even gunpowder and shot, to their countrymen

in the brigade of Marion.

These commodities were concealed

beneath their garments ; and, in preparation for their depart-

ure, the dimensions of the good women were observed sensi-CHAPTER XX. 225

~

PETRIE TA

 

bly to increase. At length it was noticed by the officers on

 

     
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
    

guard, that the lady, who when she left the city was of enor- iii
mous bulk, would return reduced to a shadow. Strange sus- | |
picions naturally ran in their heads as to the causes of a i
change so surprising ; at length a jury of spinsters was pro- |
vided, and the fat ladies were taken into custody. The dis- i

 

covery was amazing ; bales of blue broadcloth were unrolled
‘rom about the slenderest waists; and swan and duck shot,
and gunpowder and ball, rolls of duck, cotton flannels, &c.,
appeared from beneath the ample petticoats. This put a stop
to their growth, as well as their peregrinations.”’

One lady who visited the city relates in her letters that she

went on board the prison ship, and drank coffee with the pri-

 

soners awaiting an exchange. Another was accustomed to
wear a bonnet decorated with thirteen small plumes, as a token
of her attachment to republican principles. Some would not
attend church, as they had been accustomed, in the city, while
prayers were offered there for the success of the British arms
It might have been said of many female patriots who evinced
zeal in support of the cause which then appeared the worse,
that they appeared to consecrate every thought to the interests
of America. They received under their hospitable roof the
sick and wounded, gave them their personal attention and syim-

pathy ; and divided of their substance among those who needed

 

 

aid. The prisoners were visited at regular intervals and favors
were solicited in their behalf from. the British officers, which
were sometimes granted to female intercession. Their suf-
ferings appealed to female benevolence also among the loyal-

ists Some of those most attached to the royal cause were
LO*ere nars

oe ee ees

ee

 

226 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

indefatigable in their attentions tv the sufferers, whom many
feared to visit in consequence of the prevalence of a contagious
fever in the hospitals. The English were well supplied with
necessary stores; the Americans were destitute, and there-
fore experienced their kindness and bounty. Their servants
were continually employed in carrying them nourishment and
articles needed; and in some cases they paid the hire of
nurses, where personal services were indispensable. Thoy
soothed the death-bed of many with the consolations of reli-
vion, prayed with those who were in danger, and joined with
the convalescent in returning thanks.

When the British took possession of Charleston, the house
in which Mrs. Motte resided, was selected as the head-quar-
ters of Colonels Tarleton and Balfour. From this abode she
dotermined not to be driven; and presided daily at the head
of her own table, with a company of thirty British officers.
The duties forced. upon her were discharged with dignity
and grace, while she always replied with becoming spirit to
the discourteous taunts frequently uttered in her presence
«gainst her “‘ rebel countrymen.”

A beautiful country-seat, called Accabee, seven miles from
Charleston, was noted during the war as a place of refuge ;
being unmolested because Mrs. Elliott, its owner, had nc
male relative to be obnoxious to the British. The mansion
was of brick, solidly built; with a piazza in front, and a gar-
den and lawn extending to the Ashley River. The grounds
were covered with grass, on which sheep might be seen lying
under the magnificent live oaks decorated with the floating

silvery moss so beautiful in the low country. The gracefulCHAPTER XX. DD;

fringe tree and magnolia grandiflora, with other ornamental
trees, grew in clumps in front and on either side. In the
rear, a portico looked on an avenue of flowering locusts, nearly
a mile in length. At one time, when Col. Lewis Morris was
ona visit here to the daughter of Mrs. Elliott, whom he after-
wards married, the attention of the family was drawn to the
windows by an unusual noise, and they perceived that the
house was surrounded by the Black Dragoons, in search of
the young officer, who had no time to escape. Miss Elliott
went to one of the windows, opened it, and presenting her
self to the view of the dragoons, demanded what they wanted
‘“ We want the rebel!” was the reply. ‘‘ Go and look for
him in the American army!” answered the young girl.
‘How dare you disturb a family under the protection of
both armies ?”? Her firmness and resolution conquered; and
the enemy departed without further molestation.

The daring exploits of Marion have not been noticed, ba-
Cause cuey are not so intimately connected ‘vith oromincat
movements of the war as those of Sumter. After the fall of
Charleston, when all seemed lost, and parties of British were
laying waste the country in every direction, he collected a tittle
band of bold and active troopers at Lynch’s Creek, and drill-
ed them regularly for service. He now held a general’s com-
mission from Gov. Rutledge. With this band, called ‘¢ Mari-
on’s brigade,” he commenced his forest warfare, taking
refuge in swamps and fastnesses known only to themselves,
and harassing the enemy from his impenetrable retreat, till
the very name of the brigade became a terror throughout the

country to British and loyalists. No vigilance could guard228 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

ayvainst his attacks; no effort could force him to open conflict
Yhe enemy was astonished at his feats, and the success of his
gallant deeds greatly aided the cause.

Marion’s favorite retreat on Snow’s Island, at the confluence
H of Lynch’s Creek and the Pedee, was wild and solitary enough
for a scene of romance. Deep swamps formed the border ot
the island, enclosed with running water; there were cane-
brakes in which game was to be found, and the central
elevated ground was covered with tall forest trees. Marion
and his men lived here on the plainest fare. It is related
that towards the close of 1780, a British officer from George-
town came to his camp to negotiate for an exchange of
prisoners. Marion invited him to dinner, which consisted of
roasted potatoes, served on pieces of bark. The Briton asked

it their ordinary fare was no better, and was told it was not ;

ees

if they drew good pay: not a cent. On his return to his
yi oO P oe

ees aeie

friends, be observed that he had little hope of conquering a
OW suantry waose defenders could thus submit to toil and priva-

tion simcly for the love of liberty.

ee re eres3 Ra kc lc a ES SRS a a a ae ae ee eee ete eT

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XXI

 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

STATE OF THE COUNTRY IN OTHER DISTRICTS

Many incidents might be mentioned to show the condition

:

of the country, and the state of popular feeling, while the
British were making efforts to establish an undisputed control |

over the State. But space permits only one or two examples.

eee

It should be borne in mind that the experience of an indivi-

 

dual is always described as illustrative of many others in simi-

0 ee

lar circumstances The wife of Col. Thomas, who was a
prisoner at Ninety-Six, went to visit him and her two sons,
his companions in rigorous captivity. By chance she heard a
tory woman say to some others: “ To-morrow night the loyal-
ists intend to surprise the rebels at Cedar Spring.” She was
thrilled at alarm with this intelligence; the Cedar Spring
was within a few miles of her house; the whigs were posted
there, and among them were some of her own children. Her
resolution was taken at once; she determined to apprise them

of the enemy’s intention, before the blow could be struck.

 

Bidding a hasty adieu to her husband and sons, she was upon

 

the road as quickly as possible ; rode the intervening distance

of nearly sixty miles the next day, and arrived in time to

 

bring information to her sons and friends of the impending
Uapo IE CIITA

ee

eee

panna,

 

 

230 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

danger. The moment they knew what was to be expected, a

brief consultation was held; and measures were immediately

taken for defence. The soldiers withdrew a short distanee

from their camp fires, which were prepared to burn as brightly

as possible. ‘The men selected suitable positions in the sur-

rounding woods.

Their preparations were just completed, when they heard

in the distance, amid the silence of night, the cautious advance

of the foe. Slowly and warily they advanced. till they were
y y . » y

already wiitin the glare of the blazing fires; they supposocd

the mtended victims wrapped in heavy slumber; they heard

but the crackling of the flames, and the hoarse murmur cf the

vind as it swept through the pine trees. Giving the sigu:l

for the onset, they rushed towards the fires, eager for slaughter ;

)

but suddenly the flashes and shrill reports of rifles revealed

the hidden patriots. To their consternation, they found them-

selves assailed in the rear by the party they had expected to

strike unawares. Thrown into confusion by this unexpected

reception, overwhelming defeat was the consequence to the

loyalists.

The wife of Captain Richardson, who lived in Sumter Dis-

trict, sustained more than her share

woman’s lot in the midst of the s

of the trials which fell to

torm and struggle. Her

husband had been taken prisoner at the fall of Charleston,

and sent to a military station on John’s Island, where he

nearly fell a victim to the small-pox. The British having

failed to observe the conditions on which he had surrendered,

as soon as he recovered sufficiently to move about, he made

his escape, and returned to his home, where he concealed him-ARR S Sees

     
  
 
 
 
  
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
  
  
  
    
  
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
 
 

CHAPTER XXI. ao

 

self in theSanteeSwamp. This extensive swamp-land borJers i
the river for many miles, presenting to the view a vast plain |
of dense woods which seem absolutely impervious. The re-

cesses of those dark thickets, where the trees grow close

together, and are interlaced by a luxuriant growth of giant
creepers, often afforded hiding-places for the hunted Araer-

icans. At this time the British troops having overrun the
State, Col. Tarleton had made the house of Capt. Richardson,
with some oa a station for his regiment of cavalry. They
lived luxuriously on the abundance of his richly-stocked and
well-cultivated plantation ; while Mrs. Richardson and her
children, it issaid, were furnished with but a scanty share of pro-

visions. Yet every day she sent food from her small allowance

 

by an old and faithful negro, to her husband in the swamp.

She had expected the seizure of her. horses and cattle, and

had sent Richardson’s favorite riding horse into the swamp

for concealment, with a few cattle which she wished to save
for future necd The horse was shut up in a covered pen in
the woods, which had once been used for holding corn. Some-
times also, Mrs. Richardson ventured to visit ber husband,

7
4

taking with her their little daughter. These stolen tar he

were full of cons solation to the fugitive. The sp | he had
chosen for his retreat was a small knoll or elevation in the

heart of the swamp, sled «, John’s Island,” by way of dis-

tinction from another in the neighb orhood, occupied by other
whigs, which bore the name of ‘¢ Beech Is Jana.”

It was not long before the British had information of his

 

escape. They naturally concluded that he was somewhere in

 
   

the vicinity of his family and relatives. A diligent searchSMELL.

Eee

=

er ree,

iy ci ene ih thay ne ED

 

232 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

was instituted, and they watched to surprise him, or find some
clue to his retreat. Not unfrequently did the men boast in
the presence of the wife, of what they would do when they
should capture him. On one occasion some of them display-
ed in her sight their swords reeking with blood—probably that
of her eattle—and told her it was the blood of Capt. Richard-
son, whom they had killed. At another time they brought
intelligence that he had been taken and hanged. In this state
of cruel suspense she sometiies remained for several succes-
sive days, not knowing whether to believe or distrust the hor-
rible tales brought to her ears

One day, when the troops were absent on some expedition,
Before he

thought of returning to his refuge in the forest, a patrolling

Capt. Richardson ventured home on a visit.

party of the enemy appeared unexpectedly at the gate. Mrs.
Richardson, with great presence of mind, secing the British
soldiers about to come in, pretended to be intently busy
about something in the front door, and stood in the way, re-
tarding their entrance, till her husband had time to retire
through the back door, into the Swamp near at hand. The
captain was not idle in his seclusion; but collecting around
him the whigs of his acquaintance, he trained them daily in
cavalry exercise. When Tarleton ravaged the plantation and
burnt the dwelling of his deceased father, Gen. Richardson
he passed so near the ruins as to see the extent of the deso
lation.
Several times did he peril his life to Visit his amiable family

At one time, after he had joined the forces of Marion, 3

and some of his friends had scarcely reached his house whenCHAPTER XXI. ao

a varty of British and tories was seen advancing rapidly down

the avenue. To remount in all haste their wearied steeds,

 

and ride down the bank at the rear of the house, seeking con- |
ccalment in the swarep, offered the only chance for escape. (

Tu this they all sueceedcc, except a young man with whom i
Mrs. Rickardson was wel acquainted. In vain aid gke in-

tercede for him wich the officers, and with streaming eyes 1m-

 

plore them to spare his life. They hanged him on a walnut
tree only a few paces from her door. When she complained
with tears of this cruelty to herself, and barbarity towards one ui
who had risked his life in defence of her husband, they jeeringly
told her they ‘‘ would soon have him also, and then she should

see him kick like that fellow.” To such atrocities could the

LB IL A AIO

passions of brutalized men lead them, even in an age and na-

 

tion that boasted itself the most enlightened on earth !
The portion of the State comprising Spartanburg and Union

4?

Districts witnessed many deeds of violence asd ‘leod, ana

many bold achievements of the hardy partisans. So prevalent
was loyalism in the darkest of those days, so bitter was the
animosity felt towards the whigs, and so eager the determina-
tion to root them from the soil, that the very recklessness of
hate gave frequent opportunities for the betrayal of the plans
of their enemies. Often were the boastings of those who

potted some midnight surprise, or some enterprise that pro-

 

mised rare pillage—uttered in the hearing of weak and de-

spised women——unexpectedly turned into wonder at the secret

avency that had disconcerted them. The tradition of the

country teems with accounts of enterprise in this kind of ser

vice. u?OL Le ite,

ey

Cee en gee

 

LEAL ELLIE DY UME

234 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

One young girl, Miss Langston, residing in Laurens Th.
trict, having heard by accident that the “Bloody Scou*
were about to visit the “ Elder settlement’? where her brothe:
ond some friends were living, determined at all hazards to give
them warning. She was obliged to leave her home alone, b by
stealth, and at the dead hour of nigits.

be traversed, and the road lay through wovds, aud crossed

Many miles were to

marshes and creeks where the conveniences of bridges and
walked ee on, heedless of

heart almost failed

foot-logs were wanting. She 4
slicht difficulties ; but her |}

came to the banks of the Tyger—a deep and rapid stream,

her when she

rendered more dangerous by the rains that had lately fallen.
But the thought of personal danger weighed not with her;
she resolved to accomplish her purpose, or perish in tbe at-
tempt. She entered the water; but when in the middle of
the ford, became bewildered, and knew not which dircction to
take. he hoarse rush of the waters, which were up to her
neck-—the blackness of the
her
past help, confused her, and she wandered some time in the
But the

energy of a resolute will, under the care of Providence, sus-

night—the utter solitude around

       

ertainty lest the next step should ingulph her
channel without knowing whither to turn her steps.

tained her.

Having with difficulty reached the other side, she lost uo
time in hastening to her eat informed him and his frieucs
of the preparations made to surprise and destroy them, aad
urged him to send his men instantly in different directions to
arouse and warn the ane The soldiers had just

returned from a fatiguing excursion, and complained that theyCHAPTER XXI. D5

were faint from want of food. The noble girl, not satisfied
with what she had done, was ready to help them still further
by providing refreshment immediately. Though wearied, wet
and shivering with cold, she at once set about her prepaia-
tions. A few boards were taken from the roof of the house,
a fire was kindled with them, and in a few minutes a hoe-cake,
partly baked, was broken into pieces, and thrust into the shot-
pouches of the men. Thus provisioned, the little company
hastened to give the alarm to their neighbors, and did so in
time for all to make their escape.

At a later period, the father of Miss Langston incurred the
displeasure of the loyalists in consequence of the active ser-
vices of his sons in their country’s cause. A party came to
his house with the desperate design of putting to death all the
men of the family. The sons were absent, but the feeble old
man was in their power. One of the company drew a pistol
and deliberately levelled it at his breast. Suddenly a shriek
was heard, and his young daughter sprang between her aged
parent and the fatal weapon. The brutal soldier roughly
ordered her to get out of the way, or the contents of the pis-
tol would be instantly lodged in her own heart. She heeded
not the threat, but clasping her arms tightly around the old
man’s neck, declared that her own body should first receive

the ball aimed at his heart! There are few human beings,
even of the most depraved, entirely insensible to all generous

im pulses. On this occasion the conduct of the daughter, so

determined to shield her father’s life by the sacrifice of her

of the ‘* Bloody

] a)
own, touched the heart even of a member

Scout,”’ and Langston was spared.pp
ee rer,
ee os ti

236 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

The state of a half savage region of country near the fron-
tier in Georgia, may be illustrated by the following anecdote,

well remembered in that State.

 

Ina portion of Wilkes—now
{ibert County—called by tories, “The Hornet’s Nest,” on
account of the number of whigs among the inhabitants, a
stream named “* War-woman’s Creek,” joined Broad River.
lt was so called on account of a zealous tory-hating heroine
wo lived onits banks. On the occasion of an excursion froin
the British camp at Augusta, into the interior for the pur-
pose of pillage and murder, five loyalists separated from their
party, and crossed the river to examine the neighborhood and
pay a visit to their old acquaintance, Nancy Hart. When
they arrived at her cabin, they unceremoniously entered it,
and informed her they had come to learn the truth of a story,
that she had secreted a noted rebel from a party of ‘ king’s

men,”’

hung him. Nancy undauntedly avowed her agency in the

who, but for her interference, would haye caucht and

fugitive’s escape. She had heard at first, she said, the tramp of
a horse, and then saw a man on horseback approaching her
cabin. As soon as she knew him to be a whig flying from
pursuit, she let down the bars in front of her cabin, and mo-
tioned him to pass through both doors and take to the swamp
She then put up the bars, entered the cabin, and closed the
doors. Presently some tories rode up to the bars, calling
vociferously for her. She muffled up her head and face, and
opening the door, inquired why they disturbed a sick, lone
woman. ‘They said they had traced a man they wanted to
catch near to her house, and asked if any one on horseback

had passed that way. She answered no, but that she saw someCHAPTER XXI.

237

one on a sorrel horse turn out of the path into the woods,

two or three hundred yards back.

‘That must be the

fellow !”? said the tories ; and asking her direction as to the

way he took, they turned about and went off, ‘ well fooled,”

concluded Nancy, ‘ in an opposite course to that of my whig

boy, when, if they had not been so lofty minded, but had

looked on the ground inside the bars, they would have seen

his horse’s tracks up to that door, as plain as you can see the

tracks on this floor, and out of t’other door down the path te

the swamp.”’

This bold story did not much please the tory party, but

they contented themselves with ordering her to prepare them

someting to eat. She replied that she never fed traitors and

king’s men if she could help it—the villains having put it out

of her power to feed even her own family and friends, by

stealing and killing all her poultry and pigs, ‘‘ except that one

old gobbler you sec in the yard.” *

And that you shall cook

for us,?? said one who appeared to be a leader ; and raising

his musket he shot down the turkey, which another brought in

and handed to Mrs. Hart to be cleaned and cooked without

delay. She stormed awhile, but seeming at last disposed to

make a merit of necessity, began with alacrity the arrange-

ments for cooking, assisted by her daughter, a little girl ten

oO

or twelve years old.

The spring—of which every settlement had one near—was

just at the edge of the swamp ; and

a, short distance within

the swamp was hid among the trees a high snag-topped stump,

on which was placed a conch-shell.

used by the family to convey information, by variations in its

This rude trumpet was

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    

 

 

ee

 

Z ea, ‘
SELLA LSD MID GD238 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

notes, to Hart or his neighbors, who might be at work in a
field or “‘ clearing”? at hand—to let them know that the
‘‘ Britishers” or tories were about—that the master was want-
ed at the cabin—or that he was to keep close, or “ make
tracks” for another swamp. While cooking the turkey, Nancy
sent her daughter to the spring for water, with directions to
blow the conch in such a way as should inform her father
there were tories in the cabin; and that he was to keep
close with his three neighbors until he should again hear the
signal.

While the men, who had become merry over their jug of
liquor, were feasting upon the slaughtered gobbler, Nancy
waited on the table, and occasionally passed between them
She had contrived that there should be

no water in the cabin; and when it was called for, despatched

and their muskets.

Sukey a second time to the spring, with instructions to blow
ruch a signal on the conch as should call up Hart and his
aighbors immediately. Meanwhile she had managed by
-ipping out one of the pieces of pine which form a “ chink-
‘ug’ between the logs of a cabin, to open a space through
which she was able to pass to the outside two of the five guns.
She was detected in the act of putting out the third. The
men sprang to their feet; when, quick as thought, Nancy
brought the piece she held, to her shoulder, declaring she
would kill the first man who approached her. The men ar-
riving from the field, the tories were taken prisoners, and, sad
to relate ! received no more mercy than had some of the whigs

at the hands of their enemies.CHAS TRE 3 XY,

{INCURSION INFO NEW JERSEY—INDIAN RAVAGES IN THE

VALLEY OF THE MOHAWK.

Some events that occurred at the North during the summer
of 1780, demand our attention. One of these is an incursion

into New Jersey. On the 7th of June some British troops

SR a

left Staten Island, under the command of the Hessian Gene-

 

ral Knyphausen, and landed at Elizabethtown before daylight.
Their design was to strike terror into the country, and their
march into the interior was marked by pillage and devasta-
tion. Several houses were fired and the inhabitants left desti-
tute of provisions or shelter. As they approached the village
of Connecticut Farms, four miles from Elizabethtown, many
families fled to Springfield, driving their cattle before them.
In a predatory incursion of British and tories, in January

of this year, they had burned the church at Elizabeth

 

town, then used as a hospital for the sick and wounded

of the American army. The weary soldiers were accustomed
tosleep upon its floor, and eat their hurried and scanty meals Uh
fom the seats of the pews; so that worshippers on the Sab- |
bath were not unfrequently compelled to stand through the

service. The pastor, James Caldwell, was extremely obnox:SS

240 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

ious to the British and loyalists, on account of his zeal and
activity in the cause of his country, and his great popularity
m the community. No effort was spared to do him injury; a
price was set upon his head, and it is said that while preach-
ing the gospel of peace to his people, he was often forced to
lay his loaded pistols bv his side in the pulpit. At this time
his temporary residence was at Connecticut Farms

When informed of the enemy’s approach, Mr. Caldwell put
his cller children into a baggage waggon in his possession
as commissary, and sent them to some of his friends for pro-
tection. Three of the younger ones, one an infant, remained
with their mother in the house. Mr. Caldwell had no fears
for the safety of his wife and young family ; for he believed
it impossible that resentment could be extended to a mother
watching over her little ones. He had that morning taken an
carly breakfast, intending to join the force collecting to op-
pose the enemy. Having in vain endeavored to persuade his
wife to go with him, he returned to make a last effort to in-
duce her to change her determination ; but she remained firm
Sle handed him a cup of coffee, which he drank as he sat on
horschack. Seeing the gleam of British arms ata distance,
he put spurs to his horse, and in a few minutes was out of
sivht.

Mrs. Caldwell herself felt no alarm. She had hid several
articles of value in a bucket and let it down into the well,
and had filled her pockets with silver and jewelry. She saw
that the house was put in order, and then dressed herself with
care, that, should the enemy enter her dwelling, she might, to

use her own expression—“‘ receive them as a lady.”” SheCHAPTER XXII. 24]

took the infant in her arms, retired to her chan ber, the win-
dow of which commanded a view of the road, and seated her-
self upon the bed. The alarm was given that the soldiers

ere at hand. But she felt confidence that no one could have
the heart to do injury to the helpless inmates of her house
She had just nursed the infant and given it to the nurse, who
was in the room. A soldier left the road, and crossing a
space of ground to reach the house, came to the window of
the room, put his gun close to it, and fired. Two balls en-
tered the breast of Mrs. Caldwell; she fell back on the bed,
and in a moment expired. After the murder, her dress was
cut open, and her pockets were rifled by the soldiers. Her
relnains were conveyed to a house on the other side of the
road ; the dwelling was then fired and reduced to ashes with
all the furniture. The ruthless soldiers went on in their
work of destruction, pillaging and setting fire to the houses,
piling beds and clothing in the street and destroying them,
till the villace was laid waste.

This deliberate and barbarous murder had a great effect on
public feeling, exciting a universal sentiment of horror, and
filling all with one desire to drive the invaders from their soil.
‘“The Caldwell tragedy,” says one of the journals of the
day, ‘‘ has raised the resolution of the country to the highest
pitch.” The advance of a body of troops from Morristown
compelled the invaders to retire; and a second advance
met with repulse at Springfield.

The history of the Scoharie settlements and the valley of
the Mohawk is full of interest, but would occupy an entire

volume by itself. The Mohawk Valley was one of the richest
11 Vv

   
  
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

Sag Roma ete

 

 

CA ep a ieSOBER IIIT ape
J y GON

PE em

sp cepa ALE ALI ILO INO DIE LIED EDIE

eee

 

242 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

agricultural districts in the country, and one of the most po-
pulous at the period of the Revolution. It presented an in-
viting aspect to the plundering savages and the refugees who
shared a precarious subsistence among them and in the wilds of
Canada. Searcely any other section was so frequently invaded
and overrun by the enemy. Month after month during seven
years its villages and settlements were attacked or destroyed,
its farms laid waste, and the inhabitants driven from their
homes, or killed and captured. The settlers in each neich-
borhood were obliged to band together for their mutual
defence, forming parties to serve as scouts through the coun-
try, for the traveller from place to place was liable to attack
in the lonely forest, or to a bullet or arrow aimed from the
covert of rocks or bushes.

During the summer of 1778, the Indians and tories being
sufficiently employed in the destruction of Wyoming and
Cherry Valley, the Mohawk Valley remained unmolested,
with the exception of adescent upon the German Flats. In
the spring of 1779, Gen. Clinton moved up the Mohawk and
encamped at Canajoharie, and in this summer also little mis-
shief was done. But in the spring of 1780 the Indians again
appeared, infuriated at the destruction of their villages by
Gen. Sullivan, and eager to wreak vengeance on the unoffend-
ing inhabitants. In August, Brant, with an army of Indians
and loyalists, burst upon the defenceless settlements, plunder-
ng, burning, and desolating the country - whilein the autumn
Sir John Johnson ravaged the north side of the river. Thus
oe destruction of the Mohawk settlements was almost com-

plet< «nd if here and there a small one escaped, it affordedett

S ee
eS ea

cae ‘ate es Sa Sse, Pa aha
eRe aM Si gs os See a ae Bares

         
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 

CHAPTER XXII. 243

 

but a temporary shelter, being likely to be destroyed by the
next storm that should sweep over the land.

By way of showing what numbers suffered, we will trace a
few incidents in the experience of a single family—that of
Martin Van Alstine, then living in the neighborhood of Cana-

joharie. While the enemy, stationed at Johnstown, were

 

laying waste the country, parties continually going about to
murder the inhabitants and burn their dwellings, this neigh-
borhood remained in comparative quiet, though the settlers
trembled as each sun arose, lest his setting beams should fall
on their ruined homes. Most of the men were absent, and
when at length intelligence came that the destroyers were ap-

proaching, the people were almost distracted with terror

 

Mrs. Van Alstine called her neighbors together, endeavored
to calm their fears, and advised them to make immediate ar- le
rangements for removing to an island belonging to her husband Hy
near the opposite side of the river. She knew that the spoil- ia \

ers would be in too great haste to make any attempt to cross,

 

and thought if some articles were removed, they might be in-
duced to suppose the inhabitants gone to a greater distance.
The seven families in the neighborhood were in a few hours
upon the island, having taken with them many things neces-
sary to their comfort during a short stay. Scarcely had they
secreted themselves before they heard the dreaded warhoop,
and descried the Indians in the distance. It was not long be-

fore one and another saw the homes they loved in flames.

 

 

When the savages came to Van Alstine’s house, they were
about, to fire that also, but the chief, interfering, informed

them that Sir John would not be pleased if that house wereESSERE ee

244 DCMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

burned—the owner having extended civilities to the baronet
before the commencement of hostilities. Mrs. Van Alstine
was thus enabled to give shelter to the houseless families who
had fled with her. The fugitives, however, did not deem it
prudent to leave their place of concealment for several days,
the smoke seen in different directions too plainly indicating
that the work of devastation was going on.

Later in the following autumn an incident occurred pro-
ductive of trouble. Three men from the neighborhood of
Canajoharie, who had deserted the whig cause and joined the
British, came back from Canada as spies, and were appre-
hended and executed. Their prolonged absence causing
uneasiness to their friends in Canada, some Indians were sent
to reconnoitre and learn something of them. They returned
immediately, and a party was dispatched to revenge the death
of the spies upon the inhabitants. In their progress they
came to the house of Van Alstine, where no preparations had
been made for defence, the family not expecting an attack.
Mrs. Van Alstine was personally acquainted with Brant, and
it may have been owing to this circumstance that the members
of the family were not killed or carried away as prisoners.
The Indians came upon them by surprise, entered the house
without ceremony, and plundered and destroyed everything in
their way. The most valued articles, brought from Holland,
were broken one after another, till the house was strewed with
ragments. As they passed a large mirror without demolish-
ng it, the family hoped it might be saved; but presently
two of the savages led in a colt from the stable, and the glass

being laid in the hall, compelled the animal to walk over itCHAPTER XXII. 245

The beds which they could not carry away they ripped open,
shaking out the feathers and taking the ticks with them.
They also took all the clothing. One young Indian, attracted
by the brilliancy of a pair of inlaid buckles on the shoes of
the aged grandmother seated in the corner, rudely snatched
them from her feet, tore off the buckles, and flung the shoes
in her face. Another took her shawl from her neck, threaten-
ing to kill her if resistance were offered. They then broke
the window glass throughout the house, and unsatisfied with
the plunder they had collected, bribed a man servant to show
them where some articles had been hastily secreted. He
treacherously disclosed the hiding-place, and the winter cloth-
ing of the family was soon added to the rest of the booty.

The provisions having been carried away, the family sub-
sisted on corn, which they pounded and made into cakes
They felt much the want of clothing, and the mother gathered
the silk of milk-weed, of which, mixed with flax, she spun
and wove garments. The inclement season was now approach-
ing, and they suffered severely from the want of window glass,
as Well as their bedding, woollen clothes, and the various ar-
ticles, including cooking utensils, taken from them. The most
arduous labors could do little towards providing for so many
destitute persons; their neighbors were in no condition to
help them, the roads were almost impassable, besides being in-
fested by Indians, and their finest horses had been taken. In
this deplorable situation, Mrs. Van Alstine proposed to her
husband to join with others who had been robbed in like man-
ner, and make an attempt to recover their property from the

Indian castle, eighteen or twenty miles distant, where it hadmena Me

cones

a

 

 

246 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

been carried. But the idea of such an enterprise against an
enemy superior in numbers and well prepared for defence, was
soon abandoned.

As the cold became more intolerable and the necessity for
doing something more urgent, unable longer to witness the
sufferings of those dependent on her, she resolved to venture
herself on the expedition. Her husband and children en-
deavored to dissuade her, but firm for their sake, she left home,
accompanied by her son, about sixteen years of age. The
snow was deep and the roads in a wretched condition, yet she
persevered through all difficulties, and by good fortune arrived
at the castle at a time when the Indians were all absent on a
hunting excursion, the women and children only being left at
home. She went to the principal house, where she supposed
the most valuable articles must have been deposited, and en
entering was met by the old squaw who had the superintend-

She asked for food ;

the squaw hesitated; but on her visitor saying she had never

ence, who demanded what she wanted.

turned an Indian away hungry, sullenly commenced prepara-
tions for a meal. The matron saw her bright copper tea-
kettle, with other cooking utensils, brought forth for use.
While the squaw was gone for water, she began a search for
her property, and finding several articles gave them to her

o, asked

son to put into the sleigh. When the squaw, returning,
by whose order she was taking those things, Mrs. Van Al.
stine replied, that they belonged to her; and seeing that the
woman was not disposed to give them up peaceably, took
from her pocket-book a paper, and handed it to the squaw,

who she knew could not read. She asked whose namewas affixed to the supposed order, and being told it was that of

** Yankee Peter”?

 

savages, dared not refuse submission.
Van Alstine secured, without opposition, all the articles she
could find belonging to her.
were kept. The squaw refused to show her, but she went to
the stable, and there found those belonging to her husband
in fine order—for the savages were careful of their best
horses. She bade her son cut the halters, and finding them-

selves at liberty they bounded off and went homeward at full

speed.

The mother and son now drove back as fast as possible
They reached home late in the evening

less night, dreading instant pursuit and a night attack from

the irritated savages.

given that the Indians were within view, and coming towards
the house. Van Alstine saw no course to escape their ven-
geance, but to give up whatever they wished to take back ;
but his intrepid wife was determined on an effort, at least, to
retain her property. As they came near she begged her hus-
band not to show himself—for she knew they would imme-
diately fall upon him—but to leave the matter in her hands.
The intruders took their course first to the stable, and bid-
ding all the rest remain within docrs, the matron went out
alone, followed to the door by her family, weeping and entreat

ing her not to expose herself. Going to the stable, she in

CHAPTER XXII.

aman who had great influence among the

=

O

Soon after daylight the alarm was

quired in the Indian language what the men wanted. Th

reply was ‘‘ our horses.

9

She said boldly— They are ours

vou came and took them without right ; they are ours, and we

247

By this stratagem Mrs.

She then asked where the horses

and passed a sleep-

    
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

 

 

(2 gM IAINSN

  

248 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

mean to keep them.”? The chief now came forward threaten-
ingly, and approached the door. Mrs. Van Alstine placed
herself against it, telling him she would not give up the
animals they had raised. THe succeeded in pulling her from
the door, and drew out the plug that fastened it, which she
snatched from his hand, pushing him away. He then stepped
back and presented his rifle, threatening to shoot her if she
did not move ; but she kept her position, opening her neck-
handkerchief and bidding him shoot if he dared. It might
be that the Indian feared punishment from his allies for any
such act of violence, or that he was moved with admiration of
her intrepidity ; he hesitated, looked at her for a moment,
and then slowly dropped his gun, uttering in his native lan-
guage expressions implying his conviction that the evil one
must help her, and saying to his companions that she was a
brave woman and they would not molest her. Giving a shout,
by way of expressing their approbation, they departed from
the premises, On their way they called at the house of Col.
Frey, and related their adventure, saying that the white
woman’s courage had saved her and her property, and were
there fifty such brave women as the wife of ‘ Big Tree,” the
Indians would never have troubled the inhabitants of the

Mohawk Valley.CHAP THH 2x iit

TREASON OF ARNOLD—CONTRIBUTIONS IN PHILADELPHIA-—
REVOLT OF PENNSYLVANIA TROOPS—-GREENE AT THE

BATTLE OF THE € JWPEENS

 

SOUTH

One of the most remarkable incidents of the war occurred
in September of 1780. Benedict Arnold, who held the rank
of Major-General in the American army, and had served with
high distinction, had been appointed commandant of Phila-
delphia after its evacuation by the British. His extravagance
had impaired his fortune, and being destitute of moral princi-
ple, he did not seruple to supply himself with the means of
maintaining his ostentatious style of living by fraud and dis-
honest use of the public funds. For this he was tried by a
eourt martial, found guilty, and sentenced to receive a repri-
mand from the Commander-in-Chief. This painful duty
was discharged by Washington with all possible delicacy,
but Arnold’s pride was deeply wounded, and he formed a
secret purpose of revenge.

While residing in Philadelphia, his accomplishments and
the splendor of his equipments, with perhaps his insolent op-
position to the local authorities, had won favor for him in what

mizht be called the exclusive and aristocratic cirele of loyalSS

     
   
   
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
    

250 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

ists. The daughter of one of the most prominent families in
this circle—Margaret Shippen—became his wife. She was
Hi young, beautiful and gay, and had been greatly admired by
i the British officers. It is likely that her taste for luxury and
a display encouraged her husband’s propensity to extravagance,
ul but not at all probable that she was the instigator of his crime
Va against his country. Nor can it be supposed that he even
iH confided to her the perilous scheme he was pondering ; for it
was neither necessary nor safe to do so. She was made the
i instrument, however—in all probability an unconscious one—
| of the intercourse carried on while the iniquitous plan was ma-
i) turing. A letter from Maj. André to her, offering to procure
tHe supplies from New York of certain millinery articles for her
| use, 1s supposed to cover a meaning understood by Arnold
alone. He and André had kept up a correspondence under
feioned names from the spring of 1779.
The American post at West Point was a formidable bar-
i | rier to British incursions northward from New York. The
ui Hi command of this im portant position was given by Washington

to Arnold at his earnest solicitation. He occupied as his

ee
— Pr OL GE LOL ID eee
De ee a if

headquarters the house of Beverley Robinson, a loyalist-—

situated on the east side of the Hudson, a little below West

| Point. Maj. André, aid-de-camp to Sir Henry Clinton, and
Adjutant-General of the British army, was instructed to ne-
gotiate with. him for the surrender of this fortress. Their
communications were carried on through an American named
Joshua Smith. An interview at length took place between
the two officers—André coming on shore and accompanying

o
Arnold to Robinson’s house. The agreement was then finally

?CHAPTER XXIII. 251

concluded. Arnold promised to deliver the post into the
hands of the British, having stipulated for a large sum of
money and a high rank in the royal army.

When Maj. André wished to return to New York he found
himself unable to get on board the Vulture, whence he had
landed. He therefore set out by land, accompanied by Smith,
and bearing a passport signed by Gen. Arnold, which served
for his protection in passing the American posts, representing
him ag a person employed by the General on important busi-
ness. On the borders of the neutral ground—a region of
country between the two hostile lines—Smith bade his com-
panion farewell. André, now feeling almost secure, pressed
on towards New York. He was stopped near Tarrytown by
three men belonging to the whig militia, John Paulding,
David Williams, and Isaac Van Wart. Their suspicions
were awakened by some inconsistency in his answers ; they
arrested and searched him, and found the treasonable dis-
patches of Arnold in his boots.

By this providential discovery the country was saved from
a train of disasters. The captors took their prisoner to Col.
Jameson, the commander of -he American outposts. He had
implicit confidence in Gen. Arnold, and wrote to inform him
of the arrest of a person called Anderson, travelling un-
der his passport. This was an indiscrect procedure ; for it
enabled the traitor to save himself by timely flight to the
enemy.

General Washington, on his way from Hartford, stopped
with his officers at West Point. His aids-de-camp—among

them La Fayette—were at breakfast with Gen. Arnold hen

a eee

 

Pips

=

ae SN pei cn RR IE

Saopeenaec
tee See

aesane EEE yp

iD? DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVYULUTION.

the let’er arrived which bore to the traitor the first intellj-
gence of André’s capture. He left the room immediately,
went 1o his chamber, sent for his wife, and briefly informed
her of the necessity of his instant flight to the British. The
news overwhelmed her, and she fell in a swoon on the fioor,
while Ler guilty husband made his escape on board the Vul-
ture, then lying in the river.

The utmost horror and indignation was felt through the
whele country and in Europe at this heinous treason. John
Jay, writing from Madrid to Miss Livingston, says—‘ All the
world here are cursing Arnold, and pitying his wife.” The
unfortunate André was tried by a court martial, and con-
demned to death as a spy. The bravery and excellent cha-
racter of this amiable young officer appoaled to general sym-
pathy, and his sad fate was much commisserated. But the
publie safety required the rigid execution of the penalty im-

posed by the usages of war, and the sentence was exccuted.
Arnold escaped the vengeance of his indignant ¢ ountrymen ;
but he was regarded with contempt even by those who had
expected to profit by his crime, and his name descended to

after ages under a load of infamy,
The American peuple, in their generous sympathy for
André, have almost forgotten the daring and self-devotion of
one of Connecticut’s noblest sons—Capt. Nathan Hale. In
September, 1776, when Washington, after his retreat from
Long Island, was encamped on Harlem Heights, it became
important for him to know the situation of the British army, and
the indications of its future movements. Hale offered to devote

himself to the perilous enterprise. He crossed the SoundCHAPTER XXIII. 253

from Norwalk to Huntington in the disguise of a schoolmaster,
and travelling westward at length entered New York. Hav
ing gained the desired information, he set out on his return,
passing through the Island to a spot previously designated,
where a boat was to receive him. As he approached the
shore he mistook a British craft for the one he expected.
Discovering his error, he attempted to retrace his steps; but
it was too late ; several muskets were levelled at him, and he
was obliged to surrender. Being searched, it was ascertained
that he was a spy. He was taken immediately to New York,
and the next morning hung upon a tree. His execution was
attended with circumstances of aggravated cruelty ; the con-
solations of religion were denied him ; he was refused a Bible
and the attendance of a clergyman. The letters he had writ-
ten to his friends were destroyed. Yet the zeal of the patriot
was strong in death. His last words, as he stood friendless
and alone beneath the tree, were: ‘‘I only regret that I have
but one life to give for my country.”

It should not be forgotten that in the autumn of this year
the ladies of Philadelphia united in their memorable contribu-
tion for the relief of the suffering American soldiers. The
diminished resources of the country scarcely allowed the scan-
tiest supply of clothing and provisions, and the ability if not
the benevolence of the citizens seemed almost exhausted by
repeated applications. An association was formed and a lady
president appointed, with a committee to collect the contribu-
tions. The work was charity in its genuine form, and from
its purest source—the voluntary outpouring of the heart.

They solicited money and other gifts from house to house, and

 

rerarth

tT OT Si 2 Rm ee254 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

sacrificed their trinkets and jewelry to swell the fund. The
result was remarkable. The aggregate amount of contribu-
tions in the city and county of Philadelphia was not less than
| seven thousand five hundred dollars in specie ; much of it,
too, paid in hard money at a time of the greatest appreciation.
‘All ranks of society seem to have joined in the liberal ef-
fort, from Phillis, the colored woman, with her humble seven
shillings and sixpence, to the Marchioness de La Fayette, who
contributed one hundred guineas in specie, and the Countess
de Luzerne, who gave six thousand dollars in continental
paper.” Ta Fayette sent the offering in his wife’s name,
with a graceful letter to the president of the association.
The Marquis de Chastellux, describing a visit paid to
Mrs. Bache, at whose. house many of the shirts provided for
| the soldiers were cut out, says: “‘ She conducted us into a
aa room filled with work lately finished by the ladies of Philadel-
i phia. This work consisted neither of embroidered tambour

waistcoats, nor of network edging, nor of gold and silver bro-

a ee ee a

sade. It was a quantity of shirts for the soldiers of Penn-

rangers

sylvania. The ladies bought linen from their private purses,

ood

and took a pleasure in cutting them out and sewino them.

|
. . .
| On each shirt was the name of the married or unmarried lady
{ who made it, and they amounted to twenty-two hundred.”
, This seasonable aid did more than simply remove the pres-

sure of want; it had a moral effect in stimulating the soldiers
to perseverance, and inspiring them with confidence. Gen.
Washington, in his letter of acknowledgment to the committee
of ladies, says: “‘ The army ought not to reeret its sacrifices

or its sufferings, when they meet with so flattering a rewardCHAPTER XXIII. 255

as in the sympathy of your sex.” Nor was such generosity
or zeal limited to a single city or State. Among examples
too numerous to mention, is one of a lady of New Jersey,
whose gates on the public road bore the inscription—‘‘ Hospi-
tality within to all American officers, and refreshment for their
soldiers ;” an invitation not likely to prove a mere form of
words on the regular route between the northern and southern
posts of the army. Instances, too, occurred in which re-
spectable strangers, who had taken quarters at the public
house, were invited to the comforts of a private table and fire-
side. A gentleman taken ill at the tavern was brought by
Mrs. Wilson’s domestics to her dwelling, the best medical aid
and nursing secured for him, and hospitality extended to the
friends who came to visit him during a long illness.

The same lady was visited by General and Mrs. Washing-
ton, a short time after the execution of Maj. André. Their
approach, with the General’s staff, and the escort of a troop
of horse, was announced to her in time to have dinner in
readiness for a party of thirty or forty. Before these distin-
guished guests took their departure, a concourse of people
from the adjacent country and the towns in the vicinity had
crowded round the house to catch a glimpse of the idolized
Chief. A few members of the legislature, and the prominent
gentlemen of the neighborhood were admitted and formally
‘ntroduced. As it was impossible for the multitude to obtain
entrance, a little stratagem was devised by one of the gentle-
men, by which those without could be gratified without sub-
jecting the General to the annoyance of a mere exhibition ot

himself. Knowing his admiration of a fine horse, he ordered

 

oo
he256 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

an animal remarkable for its beauty to be brought into the
street, and then invited him out to inspect it. Thus an op-
portunity was afforded to the whole assemblage to gaze upon
and salute him with their cheers.

At the commencement of 1781 the balance of success—
notwithstanding the immense expenditure of blood and toil—
seemed as likely to turn in favor of Great Britain as Amer
ica. The former power, it was true, was involved by the
Revolution in a war with three European nations—Holland
having also become her enemy. Yet the army of Sir Henry
Clinton was abundantly supplied, not only with men but with
munitions ; while that of Washington still suffered terribly from
the want of pay, clothes, and provisions. The necessity be-
came so pressing as to cause discontent among the soldiers,
which on the Ist of January, 1781, broke out in a revolt of
the Pennsylvania troops. The mutineers abandoned their
camp, and determined to present themselves before Congress
to demand redress of their grievances. They were met at
Princeton by emissaries of the British Commander-in-chief—
Sir Henry Clinton—who sought to entice them by alluring
promises into. the service of His Majesty. The men, how-
ever, had not lost their love of country, although driven to
sedition by distress ; they indignantly scized the British agents
and delivered them as prisoners to Gen. Wayne. The diffi-
culties of which they complained were adjusted by prudent
concessions, their most pressing wants being relieved, and they
then returned to their duty.

The suffering condition of the troops in general calling

loudly for relief, Congress found it necessary to adopt enerCHAPTER xXIII. oor

getic measures. At this crisis, Robert Morris, a wealthy

merchant of Philadelphia, was appointed superintendent of
the treasury, and established the bank of North America. It
was chiefly the beneficial influence of hig financial operations
that saved the army from disbanding, and enabled Congress
to prosecute the war with renewed vigor.

In January the traitor Arnold, in command of the Bri
tish forces, made a descent on Virginia, ravaging the coasts,
and destroying public and private property. Gen. La Fayette
was ordered with troops into that State for the purpose of in-
tercepting and capturing him, and the French flect stationed
at Rhode Island sailed to take part in the expedition. The
British Admiral Arbuthnot prevented its success by sailing
from New York, attacking the French fleet, and driving it
back to Rhode Island. Arnold thus escaped from the dan-
ger that had threatened him, and his countrymen were disap-
pointed in the hope of making an example of a traitor. In
March he was joined by Gen. Phillips of the British army,
and their work of devastation was continued.

When Arnold left New York, Colonels Dundas and Simcoe
—officers who possessed the entire confidence of Sir Henry
Clinton—were sent with him. He could adopt no measure of
importance without consulting them. It has been said that the
Knglish General gave them a “ dormant commission,’’ author-
izing them to supersede and arrest him, should they suspect
nim of sinister intent. It is evident that he was not impli-
citly trusted by the commander

The breezes of fortune which had fanned into life the ex-

piring embers of opposition to English tyranny at the South,
w*

  
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
  
   
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 

 

 

 

a eae

Sa ieagite

Sa

rapa

tema aes

eos
eT| | : 258 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

had been so variable that the hopes of the people, raised at
times by success, were often trembling on the verge of extinc-
tion. On the other hand, the reverses that had befallen the
British arms had exasperated the loyalists, and embittered the
enmity felt towards the stubborn people who refused to be
conquered. The whigs were hunted like deer, and chased
from one place of shelter to another. Such was the condi-
tion of things, when the destiny of the South was committed

to the hands of a soldier of consummate genius, in whom all

EE EEE

had implicit confidence. The following verse of a popular

Revolutionary song was appropriate :

eee Meee eee eee Pp

“General Greene, Rhode Island’s son,
Commissioned from on high,

In that distressed hour did come,

eer

ia And away our fears did fly.”

SSID SIE

After his defeat near Camden, Gen Gates was removed

uO from the cominand of the army at the South, and Gen. Greene,

Leeper tery

| i of Rhode Island, appointed in his place. When he took the

Pedec, opposite Cheraw. From the first outbreak in June,

ee ee

| Hi command he established his encampment on the banks of the
|
{

the Whigs had endeavored to hold the upper part of the State
| | . —returning continually when driven back. Greene extended
his posts across the country ; Gen. Morgan resting at the “‘ Big
Springs,” and further west Col. Lacy at Fort Lacy, on Turkey
Creek. The first movement of Greene was to send Morgan
across the Catawba westward that he might check the devas-
, tations of the British and loyalists. Lord Cornwallis had fox
/ | a long time projected an expedition into North Carolina; but
|

the first attempt had been baffled by the fall of Col. FergusozCHAPTER XXIII. 259

° 9 . . .
at King’s Mountain. He now determined a second time

upon advancing against that State, and being unwilling to
leave Morgan in his rear, despatched Tarleton to encounter
him. Morgan at first retreated, and was closely pursued by
Tarleton. Just before their encounter, a party of loyalists
came to the house of a widow who lived near Grindal Shoal,
a little south of Pacolet River, and committed some depreda-
tions. They burned the straw covering from a rude hut in
which the family lodged, while a relative ill of the small-pox
occupied the house. Mrs. Potter and her children had built
this lodge of rails, for their temporary accommodation. The
soldiers attempted to take off her wedding-ring, which, as it
had been worn for years, became imbedded under the skin in
the effort to force it from her finger. They swore it should be
cut off, but finally desisted from the attempt. On the same
march, Tarleton encamped at the house of John Beckham,
whose wife saw for the first time this renowned officer while
standing in her yard, and ordering his men to catch her poul-
try for supper. She spoke civilly to him, and hastened to
prepare supper for him and his suite, as if they had been
honored guests. When about to leave in the morning, he
ordered the house to be burned, after being given up to pil-
lage, but on her remonstrance recalled the order. All her
bedding was taken, except one quilt, which soon shared the
same fate.
Near the Catawba, a woman, supposed to be a tory, was
taken and brought for examination to Gen. Morgan. It
proved to be our old acquaintance, Mrs. McOalla, on her way

home from Charlotte Tord Cornwallis had expressed a260 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

willingness to release her husband on his parole, provided
Sumter would be security that the parole should be kept.
The wife, accordingly, had made her way to the American
general, and was now returning with the paper which she fan-
cied would secure the captive’s freedom. She was much
amused at being taken for a loyalist, and after producing
the paper in Sumter’s handwriting to remove suspicion, gave
Gen. Morgan an account of her visit to the headquarters of
Cornwallis at Winnsboro’ on New Year’s day, and her sight of
the review of the troops.

Gen. Morgan halted his force at the Cowpens, near the
line of division between North and South Carolina. Here,
on the evening of the 16th of January, it is said that
he called a council of war, summoning all his commissioned
officers, and stating the circumstances in which they were
! placed, asked if they would burn their hard-earned bacon
Aa and flour, and fly across the mountains, or would stand by and
i defend it. Col. Washington replied—‘ No burning—no fly-
Nn oO ing—but face about and give battle to the enemy, and acquit
| i ourselves like men!’’ The tradition is also that when Col
Tarleton took leave of Lord Cornwallis, he desired him to put
| i off dinner on the third day till after three o’clock, and Gen
Morgan should be his guest at table ; for he expected to take
him and his men prisoners without difficulty.

The battle of the Cowpens—one of the most celebrated in
| the Revolution, was fought on the 17th of January, and re-
: | sulted in the total defeat of the British. Col. Pickens, who
fo like Marion and Sumter, had kept up a guerilla warfare by

night and day, commanded the militia, and had a large shareCHAPTER XXIII. . 261

in winning the victory. He obtained from Congress the ap-
pointment of Brigadier-General.

One incident has been frequently mentioned.- Col. Tarle-
ton, flying at full speed, for he feared that his retreat would
be cut off, was closely pursued by Col. Washington. Coming
up with his foe, Washington struck him, and wounded two of
his fingers—his sword passing through the guard of Tarleton’s.
This gave occasion for a severe repartee by a Carolinian lady.
In reply to a sarcastic observation of the British Colonel, that
he should like to have an opportunity of secing this favorite
hero, Col. Washington, Mrs. Ashe, of Halifax, said, “if you
had looked behind you, Col. Tarleton, at the battle of the
Cowpens, you would have had that pleasure.”

This event revived the spirits of patriots throughout the
country. Everywhere, as the news spread, men who had be-
fore been discouraged flew to arms. On the 22d of January
six wagons were loaded with corn at Wade’s Island, sixty
miles down the Catawba, for the use of Gen. Davidson’s di-
vision. The whig country of Chester, York, and Lancaster,
may be said to have risen in mass, and was rallying to arms.
Mecklenburg, North Carolina, was again the scene of warlike
preparation ; for the whigs hoped to give the enemy another
defeat at Cowans or Batisford on the Catawba. On the 24th
of January Gen. Sumter crossed this river at Landsford, and
received a supply of corn from Wade’s Island. His object was
to cross the districts to the west, in the rear of the advancing
sritish army, to arouse the country and gather forces as he
went, threaten the English posts at Ninety-Six and Granby,

and go on to recover the State.

    
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
   
    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

TSS Se

ee anaes
ate‘262 DOMESTIC’ HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

While Cornwallis marched from his encampment on Ser-
vice’s plantation, the whigs of Chester were hovering near,
watching the movements of the hostile army as keenly ag the
eagle watches his intended prey. One of their bold exploits
brought about the liberation of the unhappy prisoners of
Chester District, who had languished in jail at Camden so
many months. Eleven of them were given in exchange for
two British officers. Thus McCalla and Adair were released

They were waited for by the faithful women—the wife and

 

OL pti Ee,

sister—and as they marched with the companions of their
long imprisonment through the streets of Camden, passing

the British guard, they sang at the tap of their voices the

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songs of the liberty men.

 

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CHAPTER XAT.

RETREAT OF GREENE—RETURN—BATTLES OF GUILFORD

AND HOBKIRK’S HILL—FORT MOTTE.

Arrer the battle of the Cowpens, Gen. Morgan hurried on
with his prisoners towards Cowan’s Ford on the Catawba,

followed by the British, who hoped to prevent his crossing the
river. At this juncture Gen. Greene arrived, having left the
main body of his army at his camp near Cheraw, and took the
The retreat was continued,

command of Morgan’s division.
On the issue of that tie

while Cornwallis eagerly pursued him.
memorable retreat hung the fate of the South. The British
al well knew that the destruction of that army would

gener
While Cornwallis was crossing the
oO

secure his conquests.
Catawba, Greene was approaching the village of Salisbury,
North Carolina. The prisoners taken at the Cowpens were

conveyed with the army—the intention being to take them to

Virginia. Greene waited till midnight for the arrival of a
body of militia under Gen. Davidson, who had been sta-
tioned at the ford to dispute the passage of the river. The

news reached him at length of their defeat and dispersion by

the British troops, and the death of Davidson.

His aids having been despatched to different parts of the iee ne

a ere aaa

264 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

retreating army, he rode on with a heavy heart to Salisbury.
It had been raining during the day, and his soaked and soiled
garments and appearance of exhaustion, as he wearily dis-
mounted from his jaded horse at the door of the principal
hotel, showed that he had suffered much from exposure to the
storm, fatigue, and harassing anxiety. Dr. Reed, who had
charge of the sick and wounded prisoners, was engaged in
writing paroles for such of the officers as could not g0 on.
From his apartment overlooking the main street, he saw his
friend, unaccompanied by his aids, ride up and alight; and
hastened to receive him as he entered the house. Startled
by his dispirited looks—he could not refrain from noticing

them with anxious inquiries; to which the wearied soldier

 

replied: ‘ Yes—fatigued—hungry—alone, and penniless !”
The melancholy reply was heard by one determined to
prove, by the generous assistance proffered in time of need,
that no reverse could dim the flame of disinterested patriotism.
Gen. Greene had hardly taken his seat at the well-spread
table, when Mrs. Steele, the landlady of the hotel, entered the
room, and carefully closed the door behind her. Approach-
ing her distinguished guest, she reminded him of the despond-
ent words he had uttered, implying, as she thought, a
distrust of the devotion of his friends, through every
calamity, to the cause. Money, too, she declared he should
have, and drew from under her apron two small bags full of
specie, probably the earnings of years. ‘‘ Take these,” said
she, ‘ for you will want them, and I can do without them.”
The General resumed his journey, continuing the retreat.
The evening after the battle at Cowan’s Ford, the BritishCHAPTER XXIV. 265

troops passed by the farm of James Haynes, which the soldiers
pillaged, plundered his house, and made the owner, sixty years
of age, and in feeble health, a prisoner. They boasted to
him and his family that they had killed his son-in-law, Capt.
Scott, and intimated that his sons, who were with the repub-
lican army, were either killed or prisoners. They emptied the
bedticks, filled them with all the meal found in the house, and
carried them off. Having stripped the old man of his coat,
over-coat, and silver buckles, they drove him before them.
Mrs. Haynes sent for a friend, who, having been driven from
home with her children, was living in one of the outhouses on
her plantation, to come and stay with her. The afflicted
matron, conducting family worship that night, prayed fervently
for the deliverance and freedom of her country, and the inter-
position of a protecting Providence for the rescue of her hus-
band. ‘‘ God prosper the right !”? was frequently repeated by
her in the prayer. The next morning, as nothing in the way
of provisons remained on the premises, Mrs. Brown went into
the meal-room and swept up the meal scattered on the floor,
from which she prepared a little hasty pudding for the chil-
dren. The family tradition is, that the daughter of Haynes
made her way forty miles through the country, infested with
marauders, to inform her brothers of their father’s capture,
and that the sons pursued and found him, nearly exhausted,
by the roadside, and bore him to his home.

Both armies hurried on to the Yadkin River, but Cornwallis
was there again disappointed in the hope of overtaking his
enemy ; the sudden rise of the waters, as in the Catawba, pre

venting his immediate passage. The superstitious deemed

12 -

L Ad266 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

these remarkable occurrences a special interposition of Provi-
dence in favor of the American cause. So near were the
adverse parties, that a race for life within speaking distance
was not an uncommon occurrence. John Haynes, sent out as
a scout with three others, was pursued through a lane a mile
long by Tarleton’s dragoons, who had suddenly emerged from
a clump of trees near them. In this pursuit the royalists
destroyed the property of the widow Brevard, the mother
of the Brevard who had drawn up the Mecklenburg Decla-
ration of Independence, ‘She hag seven sons in the rebel
army,’’ was the reason given by the officer for permitting
her house to be burned and her farm plundered.

Gen. Greene, now joined by the rest of his army, retreat-
ed yet further towards Virginia. On the 15th of February
Cornwallis, still in vigorous pursuit, a third time reached the
bank of a river (the Dan) just as the rear guard of the Amer-
ican army had crossed. Mortified at his repeated disapoint-
ments, he then gave up the pursuit, and turned his course
slowly southward.

For some days his army was encamped within the bounds
of the congregations under the pastoral care of the Rev.
David Caldwell—the oldest and largest Presbyterian congre-
gations in the county of Guilford. This eminent scholar and
divine, like his namesake of New Jersey, had become obnox-
lous to the royalists on account of his efforts and influence in
the cause of national independence. He had been repeatedly
harassed by the British and tories ; a price had been set on
his head, and a reward offered for his apprehension. On the
11th of March, while he, like most of the men of the neigh-Me ee SSH

  

CHAPTER XXIV. 267

borhood, was with Greene’s army, the British marched to his
plantation and encamped there—the officers taking possession
of his house. Mrs. Caldwell was at home with her children
when they arrived. They at first announced themselves as
Americans, and asked to see the landlady ; but a female do-
mestic who had ascertained, by standing on the fence and
sseing redcoats at a distance, that they belonged to the army
of Cornwallis, quickly communicated her discovery to her
mistress. Excusing herself by saying that she must attend to
her child, Mrs. Caldwell retired within the house, and imme-
diately gave warning to two of her neighbors who happened
to be there, that they might escape through the other door and
conceal themselves. She then returned to the gate. The
party in front, when charged with being British soldiers,
avowed themselves such, and said they must have the use of
the dwelling for a day or two. They immediately established
themselves in their quarters, turning out Mrs. Caldwell, who
with her children retired to the smoke house, and there passed
a day with no other food than a few dried peaches and apples,
till a physician interposed, and procured for her a bed, some
provisions, and a few cooking utensils. The family remained
in the smoke house two days and nights—their distress being
frequently insulted by profane and brutal language. To a
young officer who came to the door for the purpose of taunt-
ing the helpless mother, by ridiculing her countrymen, whom
he termed rebels and cowards, Mrs. Caldwell replied, ‘ Wait
and see what the Lord will do for us.” “If he intends to do
anything,” pertly rejoined the military fop, “‘ ’tis time he had

begun.” In reply to Mrs. Caldwell’s application to one of

   
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
   
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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A a ERE ON
Cee268 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

the soldiers for protection, she was told she 2ould expect no
favors, for that the women were as great rebels as the men.
After remaining two days, the army took their departure
from the ravaged plantation, on which they had destroyed
everything ; but before leaving Dr. Caldwell’s house, the
officer in command gave orders that his library and papers
should be burned. A fire was kindled in the large oven in
the yard, and books which could not at that time be replaced,
and valuable manuscripts which had cost the study and labor
of years, were carried out by the soldiers, armful after armful,
Hl and ruthlessly committed to the flames. Not even the family
/ Bible was spared, and the house, as well as plantation, was
: left pillaged and desolate.
Gen. Greene having received reinforcements in Virginia,
now recrossed the Dan into North Carolina. Gen. Pickens
and Col. Lee at this time encountered a body of loyalists on

Hi their way to join Tarleton, who mistaking his soldiers for

 

i) i Britons, were captured while waving their caps and shouting

“¢ God save the King.”? Greene’s army being still further

i augmented, he no longer avoided an engagement with the
|
i}

ee Pre See ee

enemy, but advanced to Guilford Court House, and there

awaited the arrival of Cornwallis.

On the 15th of March was heard the roar of that battle

which was to compel the retreat of the invaders, and achieve

the deliverance of North Carolina. Two collections of wo-
7 | men, belonging to Dr. Caldwell’s congregations in Buffalo
and Alamance, assembled, and while the conflict was raging
fiercely between man and man, engaged in earnest prayer for

their defenders, their families, and their country. ManyCHAPTER XXIV. 269

others sought the divine aid in solitary places. One pious
woman sent her son frequently, during the afternoon, to the
summit of a little hill near which she spent much. time in
prayer, to listen and bring her word which way the firing
came—from the southward or the northward. When he
oing northward— Then,” ex-

returned and said it was g

3
claimed she, ‘‘ all is lost! Greene is defeated.”? But all was
not lost ; the God who hears prayer remembered his people.

After the cold, wet night which succeeded the action, the
women wandered over the field of battle to search for their
friends, administer the last sad rites to the dead, and bear
away the wounded and expiring. One officer who had lain
thirty hours undiscovered, was found in the woods by an old
lady, and carried to his house, where he survived long enough
to relate how a loyalist of his acquaintance had passed him
the day after the battle, had recognized him, and bestowed a
blow and an execration, instead of the water he craved to
quench his consuming thirst. Conscience, however, some-
times avenged the insulted rights of nature; the man who
had refused the dying request of a fellow creature, was found
after the officer’s death, suspended on a tree before his own
door.

The British, who were left in possession of the field, claim-
ed the victory in this battle, and an order was issued in
Charleston for a general illumination in honor of it. It is re-
lated of a Mrs. Heyward that she refused to permit lights to
be placed in her windows, and when an officer called to de-
mand the reason of this mark of disrespect, replied that her

husband was a prisoner at St. Augustine, and she would not
x*270 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

joi in celebrating a victory gained by his enemies, even if
the consequence must be the destruction of her dwelling.
Yet although the loss of the Americans was great, the result
was unfavorable to Lord Cornwallis. He retired soon after-
wards to Wilmington. After remaining there nearly three
weeks, while Greene advanced to the encounter with Lord
Rawdon, he set out on his march from Wilmington, bent on
his cherished purpose of achieving the conquest of Virginia.
On his march towards Halifax, he encamped for several
days on the river Neuse, in what is now called Wayne County,
North Carolina. His headquarters were at Springbank,
while Col: Tarleton, with his renowned legion, encamped on
the plantation of Lieutenant Slocumb. These level and eX-
tensive fields presented an inviting view of fresh verdure from
the mansion house. Lord Cornwallis himself gave it the
name of ‘‘ Pleasant Green.” The owner of this fine estate—
already mentioned as figuring in the action at Moore’s Creek
—was in command of a company of light horse raised in his
neighborhood, whose general duty it was to act as rangers,
scouring the country for many miles round, watching the
movements of the enemy, and punishing the loyalists when
detected in pillage and murder. At the present time Slocumb
having returned to the vicinity, had been sent with twelve or
fifteen recruits to act as scouts in the neighborhood of the
British general. He reconnoitred the army of Cornwallis,
and then with his party pursued his way slowly along the bank
of the river towards his own house, little dreaming that his
beautiful and peaceful home was then in the possession of the
terrible Tarleton.CHAPTER XXIV. Ti

Col. Tarleton, when he selected this spot for his encamy -
ment, rode up to the front piazza accompanied by two aids,
and followed by a guard of some twenty troopers: Mrs. Slo-
cumb was sitting there with her child and a relative, and a
few house servants. To the British officer’s announcemen
that the service of His Majesty required the temporary occu-
pation of her property, she replied that the family—consist-
ing only of herself, her sister and her child, with a few negroes
—were his prisoners. Tarleton then ordered one of his aids
to pitch the tents and form the encampment in the orchard
and field on their right; desiring the other aid to detach a
quarter guard and station piquets on each road. The piazza
commanded a view of the ground on which the camp was ar-
ranged. An avenue half a mile in length, stretched to the
road. On one side of this avenue. was a fence and a thick
hedge-row of forest trees ; on the other the common rail fence
seven or eight feet high. The encampment was completely
screened by the fences and hedge-row from the view of any
one approaching from down the country.

While orders were given to different officers who came up
at intervals to make their reports, a tory captain was directed
to take his troop and patrol the country for two or three miles
around. This order, given in Mrs. Slocumb’s hearing, greatly
alarmed her; for she expected her husband that day. By
way of precaution, she sent for an old negro, and gave him
directions to take a bag of corn to a mill about four miles dis-
tant, on the road her husband must travel, and warn him of
the danger of approaching his home. With the indolence and

curiosity natural to his race, however, the black remained

fe eySoS LEED:

eee ae aan

272 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVCLUTION.

loitering about the premises, lurking under the hedgerow to
admire the red coats, dashing plumes, and shining helmets of
the British troopers.

Meanwhile dinner was prepared and set before the royal
oficers. The dessert was suddenly interrupted by the rapid
discharge of fire-arms, appearing to proceed from a wood a
short distance eastward. Tarleton ordered a captain to take
his troop in the direction of the firing, and walked out into
the piazza, followed by the anxious ladies. From Mrs. Slo-
cumb’s answers to his questions, he became apprehensive that
the skirmish in the woods was only the prelude to a concerted
attack on his camp by some of the forces of Col. Washington
He hastened to mount his horse, and giving a loud order to
form the troops on the right, dashed down the avenue to a
breach in the hedge-row, leaped the fence, and in a moment
was at the head of his regiment.

The firing in the wood was from the party of Slocumb, who
had encountered and routed the tory captain sent to reconnoi-
tre the country. Some of the tories were presently seen in
the open grounds east of the plantation, closely pursued by
four of the Americans, while a running fight was kept up
with different weapons, in which four or five broadswords
gleamed conspicuous. The pursuers were too busy to see
anything else, and entered the avenue at the same moment
with the party pursued. With what horror and consternation
did Mrs. Slocumb recognize her husband, her brother, and
two of her neighbors, in chase, already half-way down the
avenue, and unconscious that they were rushing into the

enemy’s midst!CHAPTER XXIV 273

About the middle of the avenue one of the tories fell ; and
the course of the young officers was suddenly arrested by
the negro, who Sprang directly in front of their horses,
crying, ‘‘ Hold on, massa! Look yon!” <A glance to the
left showed the young men their danger: they were within
pistol shot of a thousand men drawn up in order of battle.
Wheeling their horses, they discovered a troop already leap-
ing the fence in the avenue in their rear. Quick as thought
they again wheeled their horses, and dashed down the avenue
directly towards the house, where stood the quarter-guard to
receive them. On reaching the garden fence, they leaped
that and the next, amid a shower of balls from the guard,
cleared the canal at one tremendous leap, and scouring across
the open field to the northwest, were in the shelter of the
wood before their pursuers could clear the fences of the en-
closure.

A platoon had commenced the pursuit ; but the trumpets
sounded the recall before the flying Americans had erogsed the
canal. This forbearance was caused by the belief that the
men who so fearlessly dashed into the camp, were supported
by a formidable force at hand. Had the truth been known,
the fugitives must have been captured and secured. This
little incident may afford some idea of scenes that were of fre-
quent occurrence during the continuance of warfare at the
South,

Slocumb and his companions passed rapidly round the plan-
tation, and returned to the ground where the encounter had
taken place, collecting on the way the stragglers of his troop.

Near their bivouac he saw the tory captain’s brother, who had
12*

ONS Sees aa274 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

been captured by the Americans, hanging by a bridle rein
from the top of a sapling bent down for the purpose, and
struggling in the agonies of death. Hastening to the spot he
severed the rein with a stroke of his sword, and with much
difficulty restored him to life.

The dignified and liberal courtesy of Mrs. Slocumb towards
her unbidden cuests, was acknowledged by strict orders that
no depredations should be committed, though not even military
authority could save the farm-yard poultry and stock from a
hungry soldiery. Her plate and other valuables, on the news
of the army’s approach, had been buried at the edge of a
marsh near at hand; the soldiers suspected the place of de.
posit, and plunged their pike staffs into the ground about the
spot till they discovered the treasure; but they were com-
pelled to restore it. When the army broke up their encamp-
ment, ample remuneration was offered by Col. Tarleton for
the trouble given, and a sergeant with a guard was ordered to
remain till the last soldier had departed, to insure protection
to a lady whose noble bearing had inspired them all with pro-
found respect.

In the meantime Gen. Greene, who had been bold enough
to return to South Carolina, after several changes of position,
entrenched his army at Hobkirk’s Hill, a mile from the Bri-
tish post at Camden. On the 25th of April, Lord Rawdon
attacked him. The British had the advantage in the battle
which ensued ; yet as before, its consequences were favorable
to the Americans. Soon afterwards Rawdon evacuated Cam-

len, and anxious to maintain his posts, directed his firstCHAPTER XXIV. 21D

effort to relieve Fort Motte, at that time invested by Marion
and Lee.

This fort, which commanded the river, was the principal
dépot of the convoys from Charleston to Camden and the
upper districts. It was occupied by a garrison, under the
command of Capt. M‘Pherson, of one hundred and sixty-five
men, having been increased by a small detachment of dra-
goons from Charleston, a few hours before the appearance of
the Americans. The large new mansion-house belonging to
Mrs. Motte, which had been selected for the establishment of
the post, was surrounded by a deep trench, along the interior
margin of which was raised a strong and lofty parapet. Op-
posite, and northward, upon another hill, was an old farm-
house, to which Mrs. Motte had removed when dismissed
from her mansion. On this height Lieut. Col. Lee had taken
position with his force ; while Marion occupied the eastern
declivity of the ridge on which the fort stood ; the valley run-
ning between the two hills permitting the Americans to ap-
proach it within four hundred yards.

M‘Pherson was unprovided with artillery, but hoped to be
relieved by the arrival of Lord Rawdon to dislodge the assailants
before they could push their preparations to maturity. He
therefore replied to the summons to surrender, which came on
the 20th of May, that he should hold out to the last moment in
his power. In the night a courier arrived from Gen. Greene to
advise the besiegers of Rawdon’s retreat from Camden, and
urge redoubled activity ; and Marion persevered through the
hours of darkness in pressing the completion of their works.

The following night Lord Rawdon encamped on the highest

 

Cee OR LI

a enna ORES ecarme

sh mn SERS
TA eR SONAR Some AEE

276 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

ground in the country opposite Fort Motte ; and the despair-
ing garrison saw with joy the illumination of his fires ; while
the Americans were convinced that no time was to be lost.

The large house in the centre of the encircling trench, left
but a few yards of ground within the British works uncovered ;
burning the mansion, therefore, must compel the surrender of
the garrison. This expedient was reluctantly resolved upon
by Marion and Lee, who found himself compelled to inform
Mrs. Motte of the unavoidable necessity of the destruction of
her property. Mrs. Motte not only assented, but declared
that she was ‘‘gratified with the opportunity of contributing
to the good of her country, and should view the approaching
scene with delight.” Shortly after she sent for Lec, and pre-
senting him with a bow and arrows, which had been imported
from India, requested that they might be used to convey com-
bustible matter to the house.

iverything was now prepared for the concluding scene.
The lines were manned, and an additional force stationed at
the battery, to meet a desperate assault, if such should be
made. The American entrenchments being within arrow shot,
M‘Pherson was once more summoned, and again more confi-
dently asserted his determination to resist to the last.

The scorching rays of the noonday sun had prepared the
shingle roof for the conflagration. The return of the flag
was immediately followed by the shooting of the arrows, to
which balls of blazing rosin and brimstone were attached.
They struck, and set fire in different quarters of the roof.
M‘Pherson immediately ordered men to repair to the loft of

the house, and check the flames by knocking off the shingles ,OF

CHAPTER XXIV. OCt

but they were soon driven down by the fire of the six pounder ;
and no other effort to stop the burning being practicable,
the commandant hung out the white flag, and surrendered the
garrison at discretion.

If ever a situation in real life afforded a fit subject for
poetry, by filling the mind with a sense of moral grandeur—
it was that of Mrs. Motte contemplating the spectacle of her
home in flames, and rejoicing in the triumph secured to her
countrymen—the benefit to her native land,—by her surrender
of her own interest to the public service. After the captors
had taken possession, M‘Pherscn and his officers accompanied
them to her dwelling, where they sat down to a sumptuous
dinner.

The ladies of Charleston showed their good wishes for the
success of the American general, by dressing in green, and
wearing green feathers and ribbons ; thus retaliating the pro-
vocations of their invaders. Jt had previously been the cus-
tom of the whig ladies to wear deep mourning. One of them
passing the house of Gov. Rutledge in company with an
English officer, took a piece of crape that had been acci-
dentally torn from the flounce of her dress, and tied it to the
front railing, expressing at the same time her sorrow for the
Governor’s absence, and her opinion that his house, as well as

his friends, ought to wear mourning.CAP TER XxX.

sTTACK ON NINETY-SIX—BATTLE OF EUTAW—MARCH OF
CORNWALLIS INTO VIRGINIA—SIEGE OF YORKTOWN—
BURNING OF NEW LONDON—SURRENDER OF CORNWAL—°
LIS.

Harty in June, the successes of the Americans had been
such that the posts of Hutaw Springs, Ninety-Six, and Charles-
ton, were the only ones held by the British. Gen. Greene
proceeded against the strongly fortified one at Ninety-Six.
After a siege of nearly four weeks the approach of Lord Rawdon
rendered it necessary to attempt carrying the place by storm.
When he had determined on this, Greene, with characteristic
humanity and delicacy, gave notice of his intention to Mrs.
Cruger, the wife of the commander of the garrison, with whom
he was acquainted. He also dispached a sergeant and guard
of eight men to protect the house in which she resided from
dangers that might be apprehended in the heat of the assault.
When the cannonading commenced, she was engaged in sew-
ing up guineas in a girdle ; an occupation which she continued
in spite of the alarm occasioned by the successive reports.
The assault was made on the 18th of June, but the assail-
ants were driven back, and the army retreated before the Bri-

tish commander had arrived.CHAPTER XXV. 279

Miss Moore, a young lady who had lodged in the house with
Mrs. Cruger, returned to her home on Saluda River the day
before Lord Rawdon’s troops passed along the road, not far
from the dwelling of her parents. A sanguinary skirmish took
place here between Rawdon’s men and a body of Col. Wash
ington’s cavalry, sent to impede their progress. Soon after,
one of the royal officers came to the house, where there were
none but women, and advised the family to take care of their
property. The caution was not unnecessary, for they were
presently intruded upon by several British soldiers. In their
search for plunder, they rolled down from above stairs some
apples that had been gathered and stored for the use of the
family. The soldiers below began picking them up as they
fell on the floor; Miss Moore commanded them to desist, and
gathering some of the fruit in her apron, offered it to a non-
commissioned officer who stood by. Struck with the cool
courage and determination of so young a girl, he made some
remark expressive of his admiration, and ordered the soldiers
instantly to desist from their rude trespass. He then inform-
ed her that the men were killing her father’s sheep in the lot.
Miss Moore hastened thither, followed by him. Two men
were in the act of slaughtering one of the sheep; but at the
officer’s bidding, with the threat of reporting them to the
commander, they were compelled to let them go.

After Greene had thus fallen back, some of the whig fami-
lies near Saluda River, fearing to remain, fled to his camp for
protection. Among these was the family of Gen. Pickens,
who was then with Greene’s army. Instead of providing

for their safety, Pickens immediately sent them back to share280 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

the common sufferings of the country, thereby to show that
the spirit of resistance was undying.

The enthusiasm which prevailed among the people and
prompted to so many acts of personal risk and sacrifice, was
fostered by Gen. Greene. A daring exploit of two young
women in this district has been often mentioned among the
traditions of South Carolina. It is said that the wives of two
officers, absent with the army, having heard that a British
courier conveying despatches was to pass along the road that
night, disguised themselves in their husbands’ clothes, pro-
vided themselves with arms, and took their station among the
bushes by the roadside. When the courier appeared, cuarded
by two officers, they leaped from their covert, presented their
pistols at the officers’ breasts, and demanded the instant sur-
render of the party. Then men, taken by surprise, yielded
immediately, and were put on their parole. The women,
having secured the papers, hastened home by a short cut
through the woods, and sent the documents by a trusty mes-
senger to Gen. Greene.

Another traditional anecdote of female agency is character-
istic. After Greene had passed Broad River he was desirous
of sending an order to Gen. Sumter, then on the Wateree, to
jom him, that they might attack Lord Rawdon, who had di-
vided his force. The country to be passed through was full
of blood-thirsty loyalists, and it was difficult to find a man
willing to undertake a mission so dangerous; but a young
girl—Emily Geiger—offered to act as messenger. Greene
gave her the letter, at the same time informing her of the

contents, to be communicated to Sumter verbally in case ofCHAPTER XXV 281

accident. On the second day of her journey she was inter-

cepted by one of Rawdon’s scouts. Coming from the diree-

 

tion of Greene’s army, and blushing a good deal as she at-
tempted to give an account of herself, she was suspected and
placed in confinement, while the officer sent for a tory matron
to search her. As soon as the door was closed, Emily ate up
the letter, piece by piece. After the search, nothing of a sus-
picious nature being found about the prisoner, she was per-
mitted to depart whither she said she was bound. She took a
route somewhat circuitous to avoid detection, arrived at Sum-
ter’s camp, and delivered her messaye.

It was now Lord Rawdon’s turn to retreat, and he retired
to Orangeburg. Not venturing to attack him here, Greene
withdrew with his main army, for the unhealthy season, to the
hills that border on the Santee. It was not long before Lord ;
Rawdon took his departure for England, leaving Col. Stewart
in command of his forces. At this time was enacted the |
melancholy tragedy of the execution of Col. Isaac Hayne, in

Charleston. He was a patriot who had submitted to British ip

rule to avoid being thrown into prison, but afterwards had ii
taken up arms against the invaders. Being captured, he was ¥

  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
   

condemned to death by Col. Balfour, the commandant of

 

Charleston. Many petitions were sent for mercy in his be-
half, and his children, with tears, besought his life; but in
vain.

In September, Gen. Greene proceeded against the British

forces, pursued them to Hutaw Springs, and on the 8th, en-

Cee OL I

gaged them in that bloody battle. This action may be said

to have elosed the war in the Carolinas, the British being
y*282 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

forced to retire to Charleston, which city and Savannah, were
all they retained of their conquests in South Carolina and
Georgia. The happy issue of the campaign, and the deliver-
ance of the South, after a long and bloody contest, are to be
ascribed to the energy and genius of General Greene.

The celebrated Col. Washington was wounded and taken
prisoner at the battle of Hutaw Springs, and sent to Charles-
ton. In the hospital there he first saw Jane Elliott, a young
and beautiful girl, who, not content with giving a large por-
tion of her property to establish hospitals and aid the wounded
American soldiers, herself visited the sufferers in certain
wards. His gratitude, and her sympathy for his misfortunes,
laid the foundation for a lasting regard between them ; they
pledged their faith to each other, and were married in the
spring of 1782.

In the meantime Lord Cornwallis marched on to Halifax

While in this neighborhood, it is said, the influence of one of

his ofacers—Col. Hamilton—-who had resided there before the
war, did much to mitigate the evils usually attendant upon the
march of a hostile force. He showed aregard to his old ac-
quaintances, by inducing the commander to forbid the molesta-
tion of the persons or property of non-combatants. One of
the most cruel tragedies enacted this summer was the murder
of Dr. Alexander Gaston at Newbern He was one of the
most zealous patriots in North Carolina—being a member of
the committee of safety for the district where he resided, and
serving in the army at various periods of the war ; and his
devotion to the cause of freedom, while it secured the confi-

dence of the whigs, gained him the implacable enmity of thei ic ie citi Saks Sate Pr eps aed. Sse aa on

CHAPTER XXV 283

opposite party. On the 20th of August, a body of tories en-
tered Newbern, some miles in advance of the regular troops,
who had, marched with a view of taking possession of the
town ‘The Americans, taken by surprise, were forced to give
way after an ineffectual resistance. (Gaston, unwilling to sur-
render, hurried his wife and children from their home,
hoping to escape across the river, and thus retire to a planta-
tion eight or ten miles distant. He reached the wharf, and
seized a light scow for the purpose of crossing the river. But
before they stepped on board, the tories came galloping in
pursuit. There was no resource but for him to push off from
the shore where his wife and little ones stood—she alarmed
only for him. Throwing herself in agony at the feet of their
enemies, she implored his life, but in vain. They sacrificed

him in the midst of her cries for merecy—and the musket

 

which found his heart was levelled over her shoulder! Even
then the indulgence of grief was denied her; for she was
compelled to exert herself to protect his remains. In her
lonely dwelling she kept watch beside the beloved and lifeless
form, till it was deposited in the earth.

Proceeding northward, Cornwallis was met at Petersburg by
Arnold with the troops of Gen. Phillips, who had died a few
days before. Gen. La Fayette was employed in the defence
of Virginia, but from want of sufficient force could do nothing
to check the enemy’s progress. Cornwallis moved into the
interior and harassed the country, destroying much property.
Col. Tarleton, with his corps of cavalry, made a secret expe-
dition to Charlottesville, intending to capture the Virginia

Legislature, and the Governor, Thomas Jefferson. His SUC-~

 
      
  
 
 
 
   
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

de NOREee ae ge” ee ee I

284 DGMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

cess was prevented by a patriotic stratagem. At the time of his
march, it chanced that some of the members were at the house
of Col. Walker, twelve miles from the town. This was di-
rectly on the route, and the first intimation the family had of
the enemy’s approach, was the appearance of Tarleton’s
legion at their doors. Having secured a few of the legislators
the British Colonel ordered breakfast. Mrs. Walker delayed
the preparations for the meal, for the purpose of enabling the
members who had escaped to reach the town, give the alarm,
and remove such portions of the stores as could be saved.
Tarleton, thus baffled in the object of his expedition, returned
to join the main army.

In the midst of these movements towards the subjugation
of the State, Lord Cornwallis was suddenly called to the sea-
coast by Sir Henry Clinton. The Commander-in-Chief ex-
pected that the combined French and American forces would
attack New York, and wished Cornwallis to remain near the
coast, that if necessary he might come speedily to his assist-
ance. Cornwallis proceeded accordingly to Portsmouth, and
thence to Yorktown, on the south side of York River. This
place he proceeded to fortify.

It was true that General Washington had designed to attack
New York; but he changed the plan in August, and after
deceiving Clinton with the belief that New York was threat-
ened, till it was too late to arrest his movements, marched
southward with the allied army, and on the 30th of Septem-
ber completely invested Yorktown A French fleet, eom-
manded by the Count de Grasse, had before this entered
Chesapeake Bay, and blocked up the mouths of James andCHAPTER XXV 285

York Rivers; thus cutting off all communication between
Yorktown and New York. la Fayette, joined by a large
French force, was ready to prevent a retreat southward by
land. Cornwallis was thus enclosed without prospect of re-
lief. An attempt to send him succor from New York was
defeated.

Sir Henry Clinton made a vain effort to check the advance
of Washington in the beginning of his march, by sending Ar-
nold, who had returned from Virginia, to ravage Connecticut.
On the 6th of September, New London was burned, and a
large amount of property was destroyed. A detachment was
directed to attack Fort Griswold at Groton, on the opposite
side of the river. When it was taken by assault, no mercy
was shown by the conquerors. Col. Leydard, who command-
ed the fort, was slain in the act of surrender, with the sword he
had placed in the hand of the commander of the assailants—
and after an indiscriminate butchery, such of the prisoners as
showed signs of life, were thrown into a cart, which, heaped
with mangled bodies, was started down a steep and rugged
hill towards the river. Its course being interrupted by stones
and logs, the victims were not precipitated into the water ;
and, after the enemy had been driven off by the roused inha-
bitants of the country, friends came to the aid of the wound-
ed, and several lives were preserved. But their sufferings, be-
fore relief could be obtained, were indescribable. Thirty-five
men, covered with wounds and blood, trembling with cold and
parched with thirst, lay all night upon the bare floor, almost
aopeless of succor, and looking to death as a deliverance from

intolerable anguish.286 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

One instance of compassion is worthy of remembrance
The morning after the massacre, a young woman left her
home, three miles distant, and came in search of her uncle,
who had joined the volunteers on the first alarm of invasion,
and was known to have been engaged in the disastrous con-
flict. He was among those wounded unto death. His niece
found him in a house near the scene of slaughter, where he
had shared the attention bestowed on the rest. His wounds
had been dressed, but it was evident that he could bear no
further removal, and that life was fast departing. Still per-
feet consciousness remained, and with dying energy he en-
treated that he might once more behold his wife and child.
Such a request was sacred, and the sympathizing girl lost no
time in hastening home, where she caught and saddled the

| horse used by the family, placed upon the animal the delicate
i wife, whose strength could not have accomplished so long a
walk, and taking the child herself, bore it in her arms the
whole distance, and presented it to receive the blessing of its
expiring father.

The progress of the siege of Yorktown has been fully de-
scribed in other works. An attempt to retreat on the part of
the besieged was frustrated, and on the 19th of October the
yn (Cf posts of Yorktown and Gloucester, with more than seven
thousand soldiers, were surrendered to Washington, the ship-
ping being delivered into the hands of De Grasse. Five days
afterwards, Sir Henry Clinton arrived with an armament of
seven thousand at the mouth of the Chesapeake, but being in-
formed of the surrender, returned to New York. The alliec

forces then separated. The Count De Grasse sailed for theCHAPTER XXV: 287

West Indies; the French army, under Rochambeau, was
cantoned during the winter in Virginia, and the main body
of the American army returned to its late position on the
Hudson. A strong detachment, under Gen. St. Clair, was
sent to the South to strengthen the forces of Gen. Greene.

Thus the year 1781, which had commenced with disasters
in different parts of the country, ended in decisive success.
The victory of Yorktown in effect recovered the whole coun-
try. British power was now reduced to merely defensive
measures, and limited to the posts of New York, Charleston,
and Savannah. The people manifested the greatest joy at
this deliverance. The auspicious event was celebrated in va-
rious places throughout the country. In acknowledgment of
the Divine Power that had protected America, the members
of Congress went in procession to the principal church in
Philadelphia to return thanks, and the 13th of December was
appointed a day of public thanksgiving and prayer.

In the midst of exultation, however, courtesy to the van-
quished was not forgotten. After the capture of Yorktown,
the superior officers of the American army, with their allies,
vied with cach other in acts of civility and attention to the cap-
tive Britons. Entertainments were given to them by nearly
all the Major-Generals, and the other officers freely aided by
contributing such means as they possessed. In allusion, pro-
bably, to expenditures of this kind, Col. Stewart, of New Jer-
sey, said to his daughter on his return home—‘t Well, Martha,
my dear, I come to you a thousand dollars out of pocket by
the surrender of Yorktown. But I care not The struggle

is over, and my country is free !”a cree MEE

PIBGB ILL ILPLII IID

ee a ee era ra

 
 

288 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

The meeting of Gen. Washington with his venerable
mother, after the victory which decided the fortune of Amer-
ica, is thus described by Mr. Custis: ‘‘ After an absence of
nearly seven years, it was at length, on the return of the
combined armies from Yorktown, permitted to the mother
again to see and embrace her illustrious son. So soon as he
had dismounted, in the midst of a numerous and brilliant
suite, he sent to apprise her of his arrival, and to know when
it would be her pleasure to receive him. She was alone—her
aged hands employed in works of domestic industry, when the
good news was announced ; and it was further told that the
victorious chief was in waiting at the threshold. She wel
eomed him with a warm embrace, and by the well-remembered
and endearing names of his childhood. Inquiring as to his

aealth, she remarked the lines which mighty cares and many

 

wials had made on his manly countenance—spoke much of
yid times, and old friends ; but of his glory, not one word !

‘Meantime, in the village of Fredericksburg, all was joy
and revelry. The town was crowded with officers of the
French and American armies, and with gentlemen from all
the country around, who hastened to welcome the conquerors
of Cornwallis. The citizens made arrangements for a splen-
did ball, to which the mother of Washington was specially in-
vited. She observed, that although her dancing days were
pretty well over, she should feel happy in contributing to the
general festivity, and consented to attend.

‘“‘ The foreign officers were anxious to see the mother of
their chief. They had heard indistinct rumors respecting her

remarkable life and character ; but forming their judgmentCHAPTER XXV. 289

from Kiatpran examples, they were prepared to expect in
her that glaro wd show which would have been attached to
the parents of the great in the old world. How were they
surprised when the matron, leaning on the arm of her son,
entered the room! She was arrayed in the very plain, yet
becoming garb worn by the Virginia lady of the olden time.
Her address, always dignified and imposing, was courteous,
though reserved. She received the complimentary attentions
which were profusely paid her, without evincing the slightest
elevation ; and at an early hour, wishing the company much
enjoyment of their pleasures, and observing that it was time
for old people to be at home, retired, leaning as before on the
arm of her son.”

Many of the French troops marched to Boston before they
embarked, in December, for their own country. Count Segur
thus mentions their entrance and reception: “ Before we en-
tered Boston, our troops changed their dress in the open air,
and in a short time appeared so well attired, it seemed incred-
ible that this army, marching from Yorktown, could have
travelled over such an extent of country, and have been cx-
posed to all the inclemency of a rainy autumn, and a prema-
ture winter. No review or parade ever displayed troops in
better order, presenting a more imposing and brilliant ap-
pearance. A large part of the population of the town came
out to meet us. The ladies stood at their windows and wel-
comed us with tho most spirited applause. Our stay was en-
livened by contiaual rejoicings, fétes and balls succeeding
each other day after day. The attentions paid us showed

with equal sincerity sentiments of joy at the triumph of
13 xee ek cre tee

ee ae a ee

290 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

the allied armies, and of sorrow at our approaching depart
ure,”

He says of Boston: ‘‘ It may there be seen that refinement
and republicanism are not incompatible; for in no part of the
country is a more agreeable society to be found. Europe no
where offers to our admiration women adorned with greater
beauty or elegance, with superior education, or more brilliant
accomplishments, than the ladies of this place, such as
Mesdames Jarvis, Tudor, and Morton. Mrs. Tudor, who
was afterwards seen and admired in France, has become
celebrated for her writings, so full of talent and wit. One of
these, written in French, and remarkable for its elegance of
style, was addressed to the Queen of France, Marie Antoi-
nette, and was brought over and presented to that princess by
the Marauis de Chastellux.”CEA 28 Ei XX Fs

EARLY SETTLEMENTS AT THE WEST—KENTUCKY—

TENNESSEE.

Tue Western and North-western territory of the United

States was an almost pathless wilderness at the commence-

ment of the Revolution. <A few hardy adventurers had ex-’

plored its forests; they were followed by a few woodsmen,
who shouldered their rifles and plunged into the wilderness,
and then came a wagon or two, slowly breaking its rough way,
bearing families whom the hardships of frontier life had em-
boldened to seek anew home. ‘These enterprising pioneers,
whose adventures shed a coloring of romance over the early his-
tory of the whole region, braved perils we nowadays shudder
even to hear of; for they were forced to dispute the grounds
they occupied with fierce tribes of Indians. The Shawanees,
Delawares and Wyandots of the North, and the Chero-
kees, Creeks, and Catawbas of the South, who often wagea
bloody wars against each other, were alike disposed to meet
with ferocious hostility the white men who dared invade the
country they claimed.

Kentucky was first explored about the middle of the

vighteenth century. It was the red man’s favorite huntingPee Rie ear EE

Sree ae reas

ee eae

292 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

 

ground; the stronghold of fierce and warlike tribes. Daniel
Boone, who penetrated the country in 1769, may be regarded
as the earliest pioneer. The reports spread by his party
through Virginia and North Carolina, of the fertility of the
soil and other advantages excited much attention, and in 1772
and 1773 permanent settlements began to be made west of
the Alleghanies. In the summer of 1774, Harrcd built a log
cabin on the spot where Harrodsburg now stands—the foun-
dation of the earliest station. Boonsborough was founded in
the following spring, and within two months the wife and

daughters of the pioneer—the first white women who ever stood

 

upon the banks of the Kentucky River—came to take up
their residence in the fort. This station, with Harrodsburg,
became the nucleus of emigration and settlement, and the
central object of Indian hostilities.

Other families came in the same year to join the little colo-
ny—and other cabins and forts were erected. The dangers to
which the new settlers were exposed in the ‘‘ dark and bloody
ground,” as the name ‘‘ Kentucky” was interpreted—soon
became apparent. In July, 1776, three young women were
surprised by a party of Indians, carried captive, and recovered
at a distance of forty miles. This was but the beginning of
troubles. An invasion of the savages, shortly after Kentucky
had been erected into a county by the legislature of Virginia
drove the hunters and surveyors from the woods to take refuge
in the forts. These withstood their assaults; and “ after
sweeping through Kentucky like a torrent for several weeks,
the angry tide slowly rolled back to the north.” But these

perils did not prevent the continual arrival of reinforcementsCHAPTER XXVI 293

of settlers from North Carolina and Virginia. Even among
the women, fear was less strong than the love of adventure.
The wife of Whitley, one of the most distinguished of the
early pioneers, to his observation that he had heard a fine re-
port of Kentucky, and thought they could live there with less
hard work—answered ; ‘‘ Then, Billy, I would go and see!”
In two days he was on his way with axe and plough, and gun
and kettle. Thus the stream of settlement flowed year after
year.

The pioneers were chiefly men who had encountered the dif-
ficulties experienced in settling the frontiers of the colonies,
and who were accustomed to deal with the Indians. Their
primitive condition was scarcely less simple than that of the
savages. The men built cabins, blockhouses, and forts ;
hunted, cleared land and planted grain; while the women
milked, cooked the meat, pounded the corn or ground it in
hand mills, and occasionally run bullets. Deer skins were
used for garments. The hunting shirt, worn universally by
the men, was made sometimes of this material, dressed, but
generally of linsey or coarse linen. A wallet was stitched in
the bosom, to carry bread or ammunition, and the belt or girdle
held the bullet bag, and the tomahawk, or scalping-knife, worn
by each hunter, who carried his long rifle in his hand. The
leggins and moccasins were made of deer skin, and the com-
mon shirt and jacket, and caps of native fur, completed the
ordinary attire.

Buffalo and bear skins served for beds. There being no

shops or stores, almost every article in use was of home man-

ufacture. The table furniture consisted of wooden vessels and
Ze uha ee er

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OPTI:

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2394 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

utensils, made or turned in the rudest manner. Iron forks ot
tin cups were extremely rare. The slab that served for a
table was made of a flat piece of timber, split and roughly
hewn, and rude benches formed the seats. If one desired his
bed elevated above the floor or the ground, the bedstead was
made by laying slabs across Jong poles, supported by forked
poles driven into the ground ; or pieces of hewn timber were
let into the sides of the cabin. The cradle was a small roll-
ing trough like those used in collecting sap for maple sugar.
Yet notwithstanding this simplicity in furniture, their food
was the choicest of game, and the richest of milk and butter,
partaken with a relish health and labor alone can give. The
luxuriant pastures of the woods, where the pea vine and the
wild cane abounded, supplied the cattle with provender, and
game was so abundant that buffaloes were frequently shot
merely for the tongues. But for this bountiful provision of
nature the country could not have been maintained against the
Indians, whose frequent depredations destroyed the fields.
Hospitality, too, that virtue of a primitive society, was always
cheerfully exercised.

The West, thus filling with a hardy population, became
year after year more interesting to the parties contending dur-
ing the Revolutionary war. The different expeditions into
that country soon aroused British jealousy ; for the govern-
ment dreaded the influence of the pioneer leaders on the minds
of their savage allies. The English commandant at Detroit
sought to bring all the savage tribes under his control, and to
incite them against the Americans, He urged them to hostile

inroads by every incentive, and paid a price for the scalpsCHAPTER XXVI. 294A

brought ; while an expedition of Indians and Canadians was
prepared against the forts and stations. The fierce spirit of
the barbarians of the forest thus stimulated by abundant sup
plies of ammunition and liquors, furnished from north-western
military posts of the British—the terrors of their incursion
were increased tenfold. The men, women, and children were
driven from their homes to take shelter in the forts, and these
were kept in a continual state of alarm. The narrative of
the perils and trials of the inhabitants, and of frequent scenes
of bloody strife, embraces incidents of personal adventure
more surprising than any romance.

The name of George Rogers Clark, called by Randolpn
‘(the Hannibal of the West,” is conspicuous in the history of
the conquest and settlement of the whole country. The bril-
liant expedition planned by him was undertaken in the begin-
ning of 1778, and conducted successfully by his heroism and
perseverance. His party marched through trackless forests,
over the region that now forms the State of Illinois, to the
ancient French village of Kaskaskias, and took the town, with
the British commandant. The French inhabitants submitted
to the new power—transferring their allegiance to the govern-
ment of the United States. The governor of the British force
in the north-west, furious at this invasion, collected an army
of savages, and made preparations to advance upon his ad-
venturous enemy ; but before his project was ripe for execu
tion, Col. Clark marched boldly through the wilderness to his
citadel at Vincennes, and captured the governor and his gar
rison. The whole country was then subjected, and the con-

quest achieved, which has been said to be the true basis of the

 

ae a eree ee ee ee

DD Dae IOI ALOT OLE:

rea arrepeneeneseeeo oeeen

296 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION

claim of the United States to a northern boundary on the
Lages.

In 1779, many families removed to Kentucky from Virgi-
nia and the neighboring States; the hunters of the elk and

buffalo being sueceeded by more eager hunters for land.

Their pursuits were carried on in the midst of Indian hosti-
lities. The tide of emigration flowed yet more copiously in

the two following years, notwithstanding that every portion of

the country was continually kept in alarm by Indian ambushes,

and their fields were often laid waste. The hostilities of the

savages were not checked by the approach of peace. In

August, 1782, a large army of warriors traversed the northern

part of Kentucky, and appeared unexpectedly before Bryant?s
Station, near Lexington. An ineident of this Siege strikingly

displayed the intrepidity of the western women.

The garrison was sup lied with water from a ring at some
g PI pring

distance from the fort, near which a considerable body of the

Indians had been placed in ambush. Another party in full

view was ordered to open a fire at a given time, with the hope

of enticing the besieged to an engagement without the walls,

when the force at the spring could seize the opportunity of

storming one of the gates. The more experienced of the gar-

rison felt satisfied that Indians were

concealed near the spring,
but conjectured that they would

not show themselves until
the firing on the opposite side of the fort sl

10uld induce them
to believe that the men had come out, and were engaged with
the other party. The need of water was u

rgent, and yielding
to the necessity of the case, tl

ley Summoned all the women.

Explaining to them the circumstances in which they wereCHAPTER XXVI!. 297

placed, and the improbability that any injury would be offer-
ed them, until the firmg had been returned from the opposite
side of the fort, they urged them to go in a body to the
spring, and bring up cach a bucket full of water. They
had been in the habit of bringing water every morning, and
should the men go at this time, it was feared that the Indians
would suspect that their ambuscade was discovered, and would
instantly rush upon them or shoot them at the spring.

The boldest of the women at once declared their readiness
to brave the danger, and the more timid rallying in their rear,
they all marched down to the spring, within shot of hundreds
of the enemy! ‘The steadiness and composure of their move-
ments completely deceived the savages ; not a shot was fired,
and having filled their buckets, they brought them into the
fort in safety.

Ohio was in part settled by pioneers from New England
An anecdote of a young widow, afterwards the wife of one of
the early adventurers in the valley of the Ohio River, may
serve for a picture of the common experience of those days.
She was living in the spring of 1774 with her brothers on
Grave Creek, and kept house alone while they were absent on
their hunting excursions. Having been on a visit to her sister
who resided at a distanc> of fifty miles upon the banks of the
Ohio, opposite Yellow Creek, she returned home, as she had

gone, in a canoe by herself. Setting out in the afternoon she

?
paddled till dark ; then, knowing when the moon would rise,
she landed, fastened her boat to the willows, and lay in a
clump of bushes near the shore, till the moon had cleared the

tree tops. As she waded a few paces in the water to reachwoe

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298 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

the canoe, she trod on the dead body of an Indian, not leng
killed, whom she had not before seen. She did not scream,
knowing it might be dangerous ; but stepping quietly into the
boat, went on, and reached the mouth of Grave Creek early
the next morning.

Not long afterwards, while on her knees blowing the fire
one morning, she heard steps, and looking round saw a tall
Indian standing by her. He motioned her to be silent, and
shook his tomahawk at her; then looked around the cabin for
plunder, and seeing her brother’s rifle hanging on hooks over
the fire place, seized it and departed. The young woman
showed no fear while he was there, but as soon as he was
gone left the cabin and hid herself in the corn till her brother’s
return. This Rebecca Williams was afterwards famous
among the borderers of the Ohio River for her medical and
surgical skill.

The history of the trials and sufferings of the early settlers
of Tennessee, in their years of border warfare with the Dela-
wares, Shawnees, Creeks and Cherokees, exists only in the
memory of a few of their descendants. Yetin the midst of
these were enacted deeds of heroism and chivalry which might
well challenge a comparison with those of Kentucky. About
the year 1772, a few adventurous spirits in Virginia and
North Carolina, allured by the tales told by hunters and trap
pers of beautiful valleys and meandering streams beyond the
Alleghany mountains, sought new homes in the lovely valley
of the Watauga, now the Holston River, in what is now Sul-
livan County, Hast Tennessee.

Among the earliest of these hardy pioneers were the Bled-CHAPTER XXVI. 298

sces and the Shelbys, who settled twelve miles above the
[sland Flats. These first settlers were harassed continually by
the hostile inroads of their savage neighbors ; scenes of bloody
strife were common, and almost every dwelling was a fort;
yet the population of their settlements rapidly increased. In
June, 1776, more than seven hundred Indian warriors advanc-
ed on the settlements upon the Holston, and a battle, called
the battle of Long Island, was fought near the Island Flats,
in which the militia, commanded by Col. Bledsoe, routed the
savages after a severe conflict. A constant succession of In-
dian troubles marked the years succeeding. In 1779, Bledsoe
and others crossed the Cumberland mountains, and explored
the valley of the Cumberland River. Their alluring report
of the country on their return induced many of the inhabi-
tants of Kast Tennessee to make preparation for striking out
still further into the wilderness, to establish a new colony
west of the mountains.

Gen. James Robertson, of North Carolina, in concert with
Col. Donaldson, started from Watauga about the middle of
December. Robertson led a land expedition, the object of
which was to cross the mountains, proceed to a place then
known as the Big Salt Lick, now Nashville, establish a fort,
build houses and open fields. Donaldson conducted a flotilla
of rudely constructed flat-boats, which, bearing the old men,
women, and children, and the baggage of the pioneers, de-
scended the Holston, for the purpose of following Tennessee
River to some point beyond its pass through the mountains.
The land party was to join the flotilla somewhere on the great

bend of the Tennessee, ana conduct them to their new home

    
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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300 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

in the valley of the Cumberland. It was a dark and fearful
voyage, that descent of the Watauga and Tennessee, through
the hunting grounds of the warlike Cherokees and Creeks.
To daily attacks from the Indians, who from the shores of the
narrow river fired on the voyagers as they descended the
rapid current in their frail open boats, now and then boldly
pushing out in their canoes to assault them, were added the
dangers of the rapid and meandering stream, where sunken
rocks and dangerous rapids threatened to engulf the frail barks
in its boiling eddies. ‘To aggravate these horrors, when the
voyagers, their numbers reduced by disease and the murderous
savages, reached the head of the Muscle Shoals, no sign could
be discovered of Gen. Robertson. Col. Donaldson and _ his
party found themselves environed by dangers which might
have unnerved the stoutest heart. An unexplored wilderness
on either side, seven hundred miles of up-stream navigation
behind them, with thousands of armed warriors ready to fall
upon them, while in advance was heard the roar of the turbid
waters as. they dashed amongst the projecting rocks of the
Muscle Shoals. It was a fearful alternative, but death was
certain in the rear or on either flank, and after weighing well
all the dangers of his situation, Col. Donaldson determined to
descend the Tennessee to its mouth and attempt to reach
the Big Salt Spring by the ascent of the Cumberland.

On the 24th of April, 1780, four months and two days
after leaving Watauga, those who survived of this adventurous
paity of pioneer voyagers reached the spot where Nashville
now stands. Here they met their friends, who had sueceeded

in reaching the same place some weeks before InterestingCHAPTER XXVI. 301

indeed was the re-union, but not without its sorrows; for
many a father, mother, brother, sister, looked in vain for
those they had hoped to meet. These partics of wayworn
travellers, and two smaller ones, constituted the entire colony
of Cumberland Valley, numbering less than five hundred
souls, of whom one hundred and fifty were all that were able
to bear arms. From their arrival, for fifteen years, a bloody
war was waged against them by the Creeks, Cherokees, and
Shawnees. Thus driven at once intoa state of war, every man
became an armed occupant, who held his life and his fort or
blockhouse only by the strength of his arm.

The settlers lived in forts, each containing half a dozen or
more families, and were compelled to work their small fields
with guns by their sides. Books, schools, churches, acade.
mies, they had none. ‘Toil and danger were their only school-
masters, and stern necessity their only pastor and lawgiver
Capt. Ridley had established a small fort near Nashville, ip
which military rule was necessarily preserved, while various
persons, pursuing the bent of their own interest, established
others, in which they rallied their friends and retainers to re-
pel the assaults of Indian marauders. In the space of thirty
miles around Nashville were a dozen such forts, and in and
around these were all the inhabitants of the valley. Of ne-
cessity, social intercourse was kept up by occasional visits
from one to another ; but the road being often rendered dan.
gerous by Indian ambuscades, it required more than a commor
share of bravery for small parties, especially of females, t«
venture, though the distance between the forts was only two

or three miles

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No brief notice like the preceding can convey an adequate
idea of the difficulties and dangers encountered by these early
settlers; but it may awaken curiosity to examine other re-
sords. When hostilities ceased between Great Britain and
the United States, other emigrants of exhausted fortunes, or
who had spent their prime in fighting the battles of their
country, sought homes in the west, in the expectation of peace
and security. But the Indians at intervals continued their

incursions. The settlements, notwithstandine, advanecd in

5?
strength and prosperity, increasing every year, till they were

able to claim admission as States into the: UnionCMA T Hi: 2X VLE

CONCLUSION.

Wuen the news reached England of the event that aad
finished the work of wresting America from British possession,
it was met by a general expression throughout the whole nation
of desire for peace. In May, 1782, Sir Guy Carleton, appoint-
ed to succeed Sir Henry Clinton as Commander-in-Chief,
arrived in New York, with instructions to terminate the war
by amicable negotiation. Active hostilities between the two
armies were suspended during this year; though some skir-
mishes, and many robberies, took place. Congress appointed
John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, John Jay, and Henry Lau-
rens Commissioners for the United States, to negotiate a
treaty of peace. Preliminary articles were signed at Paris
on the 30th of November, 1782. After the adjustment of
affairs between Britain and France, the definitive treaty was
sizned on the third of September, 1783. By the terms of
this treaty, the Independence of the United States was fully
acknowledged, and the extent of territory conceded was equal
to their most enlarged expectations.

On the 19th of April, 1783, eight years from the battle of

Lexington. 2 formal proclamation of the cessation of hostilities

 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

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DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

was made to the American army. The news of peace was
everywhere received with joy. The army was disbanded by
order of Congress on the 3d of November following. The
arrears due the officers and soldiers, and the wretched condi-
tion of the finances, had caused difficulties which it was feared
would inflame the discontent of the army into insurrection.
But the prudence and firmness of General Washington avert-
ed the danger; the soldiers were persuaded to oppose all
illegal proceedings for obtaining redress, and satisfactory ar-
rangements were finally made by Congress. The soldiers
returned peaceably to their homes, to enjoy the blessings the
toils of war had purchased.

Savannah was evacuated by the British in July, 1782, and
Charleston the 14th of December of the same year. It was ex-
pected that New York, the last city oceupicd—where the
British Commander-in-Chief had his head-quarters—would be
} | evacuated by Sir Guy Carleton in August, 1783. But the

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loyalists, remembering the cruelties they had exercised towards
their countrymen—especially those whom the fortune of war

had placed among them as prisoners—feared retribution after

aT ee a alee

| the departure of the British troops. Threats of retaliation,
| and denunciatory resolutions passed at whig meetings held in
| various parts of the country, alarmed them to such a degree,
that they flocked in great numbers to New York, and claimed
the protection of the British General. To transport so vast
a body of exiles, with their families and effects, to Nova
| Scotia, the Bahamas, or Britain, required more shipping than
i lay in port. A delay ensued in consequence, while Car-
leton sent to the Wes. Indies, and even to England for addi-CHAPTER XXVIII. 305

tional transports ; and it was not till the 25th of November

that the last remnant of a foreign soldiery set foot on board

their vessels

Karly on the morning of this day, the American troops,
under the command of General Knox, marched from Hzerlem to
the Bowery Lane, where they took up their position. The
citizens began to throng the thoroughfares, eager to partici
pate in the joyous excitement of the occasion. About ten
o’clock an American guard relieved the British guard at the
city prison, and the latter joined a detachment of British
troops then’ on parade in Broadway, which wheeled into pla-
toons and marched down to the Battery. There they em-
barked in boats to goon board their shipping. At one o’clock,
the British soldiers having abandoned their various posts, tht
American troops moved down the Bowery to take possession of
Fort George at the Battery. General Knox, with a number of
officers and citizens on horseback, then rode up to the Bowery
to receive General Washington and Governor George Clinton,
who, with their suites, made their public entry into the city
on horseback, followed by the Lieutenant-Governor and
Senators. The cavalcade proceeded to the Battery, whither
orders had been sent to hoist the American flag at the Fort,
and fire an appropriate salute. Some British underlings,
however, had unreeved the halyards, knocked the cleats off
the flag staff, and slushed it, so that it might be impossible for
the Americans to hoist their banner before the British ship-
ping should be out of sight.

The Americans on the other hand, were anxious that their

late enemies should see the colurs of the United States wave
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306 DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE REVOLUTION.

over the city. Several persons made ineffectual efforts to
climb the staff; at length a sailor was furnished with a num-
ber of cleats hastily prepared, with which he filled his pockets,
and winding the halyards round his waist, and taking a ham-
mer and nails in his hands, commenced his ascent, nailing the
cleats on either side as ‘he clambered up. Having reached the
top, he reeved the halyards and descended, while amidst
the loud huzzas of congregated thousands, and the thunder of
artillery, in full view of the departing English, the stars and
stripes were hoisted, and floated proudly on the breeze; the
band at the same time striking up the national air of ‘‘ Yankee

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Doodle.”? ‘The intrepid sailor was not only welcomed with ac-
clamations, but received a more.substantial token of appro-
Sation in a contribution for his benefit among those present.
This interesting scene over, the Commander-in-Chief and
other general officers sat down to a public dinner given by the
Governor at Francis’ Tavern, at the corner of Wall and Nas-
sau streets. On the following Tuesday, a brilliant display of
fireworks was exhibited at the Bowling Green.

On the 23d of December, a scene of lofty moral grandeur
was presented, by the appearance of Washington in the Hall
of Congress at Annapolis, to resign his commission as Com-
mander-in-Chief. In the presence of a large concourse of
spectators, he delivered his simple and affectionate farewell
address, commending the interests of his country to the pro-
tection of Heaven, and taking his leave of the employments
of public life. He then retired as a private citizen to his
country-seat at Mount Vernon, followed by the heartfelt gra-

titude and affection of the whole nation.CHAPTER XXVII. 307

Thus was American Independence established. From this
fortunate termination the most beneficial results were antici-
pated, not only for the United States, but for the whole civil-
ized world. The nation newly founded was expected to culti-
vate republican virtues which other nations might emulate.
It was to exhibit the advantages of universal intelligence and
progress. It was to illustrate the great principles which lie at
the foundation of a people’s true prosperity, and thus to over-
throw the ancient systems of error and tyranny.

In reviewing the events briefly sketched, it will be seen at
how vast an expense of blood and suffering, of toil and trea-
sure, was purchased the national freedom which, with its
countless blessings, is our inheritance. The price was paid
with a full reliance on the Divine protection for a righteous
‘ause. Guizot says truly—‘‘ While they rebelled against the
uthority of the King and Parliament of Britain, they were
‘abmissive to the will of God and the precepts of the Gospel ;
while struggling for independence, they were governed by the
same faith which had brought their ancestors to this land.”
[t will be seen, moreover, that the men and women of America
during the Revolution, acted with one heart and one mind.
| whether at the Hast, in
he Middle States, or at the South—one spirit is seen to

(n their entire devotion to the cause

 

3

hey felt and acted like brethren. It is this sanction of right,

rovern them. They thought not of sectional distinctions ;

and this union of feeling and interests, which throw a halo of
moral sublimity around the perilous adventures and daring deeds
so thickly sown in the history of those times. Let all Amer

icans who love their country ponder on the lesson conveyed

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308. DOMESTIC HISTORY OF THE. REVOLUTION.

Yet them cherish the unr N of these States, as they honor

tne memory of those noble men who did and suffered so much
to cement it. Let them never part with that precious legacy
bought, with their fathers’ blood, and transmitted to them to
be kept inviolate for their own children. For the security of
this inestimable possession, let them sacredly preserve the
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