Glass Rnnk 'N4-Z THRILLING INCIDENTS WARS OF THE UNITED STATES: COMPRISING THE MOST STRIKING AND REMARKABLE EVENTS THE REVOLUTION, THE FRENCH WAR, THE TRIPOLITAN WAR, THE INDIAN WAR, THE SECOND WAR WITH GREAT BRITAIN, AND THE MEXICAN WAR. WITH THREE HUNDRED ENGRAVINGS. BY THE AUTHOR OF " THE ARMY AND NAVY OF THE UNITED STATES." PHILADELPHIA: PUBLISHED BY CAREY & HART. 1848. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1848, by CAREY AND HART, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the Eastern District Of Pennsylvania. E\9\ B. B. MEAKS. STEREOTYPER. T. K. AND P. G COLLINS, PRINTERS. PREFACE. The purpose of the writer in the following pages is apparent in the title-page. He has selected, from the various authentic histories, memoirs, and reminiscences which have appeared during the last fifty years, the narratives of those events which were at once the most striking and important in our national annals, and presented them in a col- lective form. The view thus exhibited, bears the same relation to a complete and connected history that a sketch does to a finished picture. The strong points and striking features only are represented; but, at the same time, a vivid conception is afforded of the whole subject. The imagination of the reader receives, perhaps, a livelier impulse from the sketch than it would from the picture. What is delineated suggests more to the active fancy than if the de- lineator had endeavoured to place the whole upon vi PREFACE. his canvas ; and the reader is more agreeably occupied in filling up the vacant parts by his own imaginative or recollective faculty, than if nothing had been wanting to render the picture complete. The author has found his task an agreeable one. The history of our country is filled with incidents which do honour to the American character; and every true patriot must feel gratification in perusing the records of those heroic and disinterested actions which shed light and glory on our national annals. If the following pages fail to render full justice to those who have deserved well of their country by high achievements in the field and on the ocean, it is not from any deficiency of zeal in the cause. So far as his limits would permit, the author has earnestly endeavoured to render all honour to whom honour is due. CONTENTS. REVOLUTIONARY WAR. Opening of the Revolution, , Page 13 The Boston Massacre, 19 Affair of the Sloop Liberty, 25 Affair of the Gaspee, 29 The Tea Riot, 34 The Boston Port Bill, 39 The First Continental Congress — Consequent Parliamentary pro- ceedings, . . . ' 46 Organization of the Minute-Men, 56 Patrick Henry — Second Provincial Congress — First Military En- terprise, ....... 60 Battles of Lexington and Concord, 67 Battle of Bunker's Hill, 80 Capture of Ticonderoga, 97 Second Continental Congress — Washington's Appointment, . . 107 Siege of Boston, . 113 Incidents at the Evacuation of Boston, . . .120 Burning of Falmouth, 130 Arnold's Expedition to Quebec — Siege of Quebec, and Death of Montgomery, 142 Scenes at Quebec during the Siege, 151 Expedition against Charleston, 165 The Declaration of Independence, . . . . .• 172 viii CONTENTS. The Battle of Long Island, 177 Washington's Retreat through New Jersey — Capture of General Lee, 188 Battle of Trenton, 193 Battle of Princeton, 198 Capture of General Prescott, 203 Battle of Brandywine, 205 Battle of Germantown, 210 Battle of Red Bank, 216 Attack on Fort Mifflin — Retirement of the Army to Valley Forge, 219 Battle of Bennington, . 227 Murder of Miss M'Crea, 232 Battle of Stillwater, 236 Batde of Bemis's Heights, and Retreat of Burgoyne, . . 244 Capture of Forts Clinton and Montgomery, 252 Surrender of Burgoyne, 258 The Treaty with France, 261 Attack on Savannah, and Death of Pulaski, .... 267 Storming of Stony Point, 272 General Sullivan's Campaign against the Indians, . . . 276 Tarleton's Quarters, 282 Batde of Camden, and Death of De Kalb, .... 289 Arnold's Treason, 294 The Loss of the Randolph, 312 The British Prison-Ships, 318 Capture of the Serapis, . . ' 325 Putnam's Feat at Horseneck, 33 1 Battle of Eutaw Springs, 334 Wayne's Charge at Green Spring, 343 Capture of the General Monk, 346 The Mutinies, 353 Battle of the Cowpens, # 352 Capture of New London, 357 Massacre of Wyoming, 370 Surrender of Cornwallis, 379 CONTENTS. iX WAR WITH FRANCE. Capture of L'Insurgente, 383 The Constellation and Vengeance, . 386 WAR WITH TRIPOLI. Burning of the Philadelphia, 393 Bombardment of Tripoli, 398 Loss of the Intrepid, 406 Expedition of General Eaton, 413 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. Battle of Tippecanoe, 416 Capture of the Guerriere, 429 Tragical Affair of an Indian Chief, 435 Battle and Massacre at the River Raisin, 441 Captain Holmes's Expedition, 446 Capture of the Caledonia and Detroit, 451 The Wasp and Frolic, 456 Gallant Conduct of Lieutenant Allen at the Capture of the Mace- donian, 463 Capture and Destruction of the Java, 467 Siege of Fort Meigs, 470 Capture of York, and Death of General Pike, .... 473 Defence of Sackett's Harbour, 477 Defence of Fort Stephenson, 481 Battle of Lake Erie, ... 486 Battle of the Thames, 496 Gallant Action of Commodore Chauncey under the guns of Kingston Citadel, 505 The Sacking of Hampton, 508 Capture of the Peacock, 513 Massacre at Fort Mimms, ....... 520 Surrender of Weatherford, 526 Battle of Niagara, 530 Battle of New Orleans, . . . . . . . . 536 X CONTENTS. WAR WITH MEXICO. Battle of Palo Alto, 543 Battle of Resaca de la Palma, 548 Capture of Monterey, . . 555 Battle in the Streets of Monterey, 562 Thrilling Scenes in the Battle of Buena Vista, .... 570 Bombardment of Vera Cruz, 575 Battle of Cerro Gordo, 581 Battles of Contreras and Churubusco, 585 Storming of Chapultepec, 593 LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ILLUSTRATIONS. Battle of Contreras, Frontispiece Boston Massacre, . . Page 19 Samuel Adams, 23 John Hancock, 25 Burning of the Gaspee, . 31 The Tea Riot, 35 Faneuil Hall, .... 39 Lord George Germain, . 43 Carpenter's Hall, Philadelphia 46 Lord Chatham, 50 Colonel Pickering, . 60 Patrick Henry, 62 Battle of Lexington, 67 Battle of Concord Bridge, 72 Retreat from Concord, 74 Earl Percy, 76 Bunker's Hill Monument, 80 Battle of Bunker's Hill, . 81 General Warren, 86 Ruins of Ticonderoga, . 95 Surprise of Ticonderoga, 100 Washington, . 106 Siege of Boston, . 112 Boston as seen from Dorcheste r, 122 Burning of Falmouth, . 132 General Arnold, 135 General Montgomery, . 143 Quebec, .... 150 Sir Guy Carleton, . . 151 Funeral of Montgomery, . 159 Attack on Fort Moultrie, . 164 Sir Peter Parker, . . 165 Independence Hall, Philadelphia, 172 Retreat from Long Island, . 185 General Charles Lee, . . 188 General Knox, . . . 193 Battle-Ground at Trenton, . 198 Washington's Head-Quarters at Morristown, . . .202 Costume of British Naval Offi- cer, 1777, . . .209 General La Fayette, . . 210 Battle of Germantown, . . 214 Battle of Red Bank, . . 216 Encampment at Valley Forge, 219 Fort Mifflin, .... 221 General Stark, . . .226 Battle of Bennington, . . 227 Murder of Miss M'Crea, . 232 General Schuyler, . . . 236 Burgoyne's Encampment on the Hudson, .... 238 General Gates, . . . 243 Burgoyne's Retreat up the Hudson 249 Fort Clinton, . . . .254 Silas Deane, . . . .261 Signing of the Treaty with France 264 Death of Pulaski, . . .267 Storming of Stony Point, . 272 General Sullivan, . . . 276 Sullivan's Expedition against the Indians 278 Tarleton's Quarters, . . 284 Battle of Camden, ... 288 Xll ILLUSTRATIONS. Major Andre", ... 294 Capture of Andre, . . 299 Captain Biddle, . . - . 312 Loss of the Randolph, . . 314 Prison-Ship, .... 320 Commodore Jones, t . 325 Capture of the Serapis, . 327 Putnam's Feat at Horseneck, 331 General Greene, . . . 334 Wayne's Charge, . . 342 General Wayne, ... 343 Commodore Barney, . . 346 Capture of the General Monk, 348 Wayne and the Mutineers, . 352 Battle of the Cowpens, . 360 General Morgan, . . . 364 Burning of New London by Ar- nold, .... 366 Ruins of Wyoming, . . 370 Massacre of Wyoming, . 372 Surrender of Cornwallis, . 378 General Lincoln, . . . 379 Commodore Truxtun, . . 386 Constellation and Vengeance, 388 Burning of the Philadelphia, 392 Commodore Decatur, . . 393 Commodore Preble, . . 398 Bombardment of Tripoli, . 400 Loss of the Intrepid, . . 408 General Eaton, . . . 413 General Harrison, . . 416 Battle of Tippecanoe, . . 425 Constitution and Guerriere, . 429 Commodore Jones, . . 456 Wasp and Frolic, . . . 459 Lieutenant Allen, . . 463 Commodore Bainbridge, . 467 Sortie from Fort Meigs, . 470 General Pike, . . . 473 General Brown, . . . 477 Defence of Fort Stephenson, 481 Commodore Perry, . . 486 Battle of Lake Erie t . . 492 Battle of the Thames, . . 496 Citadel of Kingston, from the St. Lawrence, . . . 504 Commodore Chauncey, . 505 Burning of Hampton, . . 510 Captain Lawrence, . . 513 Sinking of the Peacock, . 516 Weatherford, ... 520 Defence of Fort Mimms, . 523 General Jackson, . . . 526 General Scott, ... 530 General Brown receiving the Communication of Major Jones, .... 534 Battle of New Orleans, . 536 New Orleans, . . . 539 General Taylor, ... 543 Death of Ringgold, . . 547 Captain Walker, ... 548 M' Call's Advance at Resaca de la Palma, ... 550 Cavalry Charge at Monterey, 556 Colonel Jack Hays, . . 557 General Worth, ... 562 Street-Fight in Monterey, . 564 Santa Anna, .... 570 American Fleet saluting the Cas- tle at Vera Cruz after the Surrender, . . . 575 Bombardment of Vera Cruz, 578 Storming of the Heights at Cer- ro Gordo, . . . 583 Guerillas plundering, . . 586 Paredes, .... 593 Storming of Chapultepec, . 596 ThrillLTia & • yep Me OPENING OF THE REVO- LUTION. Long before the passage of Grenville's Stamp Act, Great Britain had given cause of complaint to her colonies by restricting each province to the use of its own manu- Ifpfactures, and preventing the reciprocal importation of their 'respective fabrics — thus com- . pletely discouraging all manu- ^ 'l\ factures. To prevent a whole ;X * people from following any L ii «% N branch of industry, is a mea sure which human nature can- not bear with tame submission. 14 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. Nor was the severity of the act ameliorated by the representations of the ministry that the articles pro- hibited could be imported cheaper from England The injury felt by the measure was not at the time of much consequence ; but the regulation was in itself considered an insult to the understanding, more into- lerable than pecuniary oppression. The discontent arising from this restriction would in all probability have passed away, had it not been succeeded by deprivations of a more serious nature to the colonies. These were the orders of Parliament (1755), restricting the American trade with the West Indies, which had hitherto been a source of large revenue. The prohibition of so profitable a com- merce shook the vitals of American prosperity, and distressed the manufacturers and merchants of Eng- land. The servile complaisance which Great Britain showed to Spain by these orders, and the unwise policy of oppressing her own subjects to oblige for- eigners, were complained of by the people of England as well as by the Americans. But the king and min- istry refused to listen to the voice of justice, and con- tinued to pursue that system which eventually recoiled upon themselves. The peace of 1763 terminated a war, which was both advantageous and glorious to Great Britain. The treaty of Paris, besides ceding to her several islands in the West Indies, and establishing her power in the East, gave her the sovereignty of the vast continent of America, from Florida to the Arctic Seas. The expenses of the previous war had, however, OPENING OF THE REVOLUTION. 15 been immense. In order to meet them and liquidate to some degree the national debt, resolutions were adopted by the ministry to tax the colonies on certain articles of importation. Their ability to pay these taxes was not doubted ; and it was considered proper that those who enjoyed so many advantages should contribute their portion towards bearing the public burdens. The colonists, however, were fully persuaded that whatever might be the necessities of the mother country, yet, exclusive of the restrictions laid during late years on their commerce, the sole enjoyment of their trade was a tax in itself more in proportion than all that were levied on the people of Great Britain. The right of taxing them without their being represented in the British Parliament, they denied as resolutely as their ancestors did the payment of ship- money to Charles I. ; at the same time claiming the privilege of representation as their undoubted birth- right. The ministry expressed astonishment at hearing such language from the colonists, charging them with ingratitude and disloyalty, and with being solicitous only to profit by the generosity of the mother coun- try. The Americans repelled these unfounded charges with indignation. They gloried in calling Britain their mother country ; they had never disgraced the title ; they had ever obeyed her just and lawful com- mands ; and they submitted, for her benefit, to heavy burdens and commercial restrictions. They referred for proof of these assertions to their expeditions against Louisbourg and Spanish America, and to the 16 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. bravery displayed in the war against the French in North America. In their petition they assured the king, that not- withstanding their sufferings, they retained too high a regard for the kingdom from which they derived their origin to request anything which might be inconsistent with her dignity or welfare. " These," they observed, " related as we are to her, honour and duty, as well as inclination, induce us to support and advance." " At the conclusion of the last war, the Genius of England and the spirit of wisdom, as if offended at the ungrateful treatment of her sons, withdrew from the British councils, and left the nation a prey to a race of ministers, with whom ancient English honesty and benevolence disdained to dwell." They did not com- plain of Parliament, for it had done them no wrong, " but solely of the measures of ministers." In 1764, a bill was framed laying heavy duties (payable into the British treasury in specie) on all ar- ticles imported into the colonies from the French and other islands in the West Indies. This was followed by an act restraining the currency of paper money. In 1765, to complete the link so unjustly begun, was passed Grenville's famous Stamp Act, the prelude to the most tremendous and destructive quarrel that had befallen Britain for several ages. It was styled " the folly of England and ruin of America." The colonists were now completely roused ; but at the same time conducted their measures with great wisdom, perseverance, and resolution. They united in a general opposition to the views of ministers, who disregarded their petitions and the statements of their OPENING OF THE REVOLUTION. 17 agents ; and although some acts favourable to the com- merce of the colonies were passed, the people became suspicious, and placed no reliance on the good-will of the British government. They especially mistrusted the king. Resolutions were adopted to make no further importations from Great Britain ; and so far was the encouragement of domestic manufactures persevered in, that the use of all elegancies was laid aside, and the eating of lamb suspended in order to encourage the raising of wool. In 1766 Parliament repealed the Stamp Act ; thus affording unequivocal proof of the folly and short- sightedness under which that measure was passed. Intelligence of the event filled the colonies with exulta- tion ; and the rude domestic articles with which they had long served themselves, were speedily exchanged for the more comfortable ones of British manufacture. But the mother country soon showed that she was by no means disposed to yield her fancied authority. In that year Dr. Franklin was expelled from the Post Office Department ; and in the next, duties were im- posed on tea and other articles of importation. The colonists remonstrated against this new aggression, and petitioned the king in every possible form ; but their efforts were treated with coldness and contempt. The evil star of Britain had arisen, soon to wither her dazzling superiority as a nation, and sever her widely-extended dominions for ever. The colonial remonstrances against this measure were regarded by the ruling powers of England only with anger and indignation. Ministers were equally chagrined and astonished to find that a great portion 2* B 18 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. of the British nation espoused the cause of America. But, disregarding all opposition to Parliament, all re- monstrances of th^ colonists, as well as petitions from the United Kingdom, the government madly proceeded in the prosecution of its impracticable schemes. At this period the fame and grandeur of Great Britain were so great, that no one imagined that the colonies would presume to dispute any measure dictated by the ministry. The splendid triumphs of the British nation in all parts of the world, had excited the jealousy of Europe ; and the idea of the colonists risking a trial of prowess with the armies and fleets which had de- feated the combined strength of France and Spain, was considered presumptuous and visionary. It was, therefore, matter of astonishment to learn the extraor- dinary and resolute conduct of the Americans in op- posing the restrictions on their commerce, and the operation of the Stamp and Tea Acts. From the period of the abolishment of the Stamp Act, in 1766, until the cargoes of the tea-ships were thrown over- board, in December, 1773, included a period of seven years of solemn resistance to arbitrary power. THE BOSTON MASSACRE. N 1768, three British regiments arrived in Boston, for the purpose of assisting the governor and civil powers in main- taining peace. This greatly increased the discontents of the colonists, who looked upon the soldiery as a standing f— ^-— * ^ army, sent to enforce unjust legislation. Mutual jealousies produced unfortunate disputes, which increased to such an extent as to threaten the most serious consequences. Each day gave rise to new occurrences which augmented the animosity. Reciprocal jealousies soured the tempers of the oppo- site parties, and were followed by mutual injuries. Events were verging to a crisis — dark and fearful. At length, a private of the twenty-ninth regiment, passing along (March 2d, 1770) near Mr. John Gray's 20 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. rope-walk, was driven away by the populace in con- sequence of having resented some insulting words. He returned soon after with a dozen soldiers, between whom and the rope-makers an affray ensued, which terminated in the defeat of the former. In the after- noon they armed themselves with clubs, and were on the way to renew the action, but were stopped. Many of the townspeople were so enraged at this, as to determine on a renewal of the engagement the follow- ing Monday. The Rev. Dr. Elliot was informed of this on Saturday, and also that the city bells were to be rung on that day in order to bring the inhabitants together. It does not appear that any militia were called in before the attack upon the people, or that any regular plan was formed for compelling the British troops to move from the town. On the other hand, it is absurd to suppose that there was a settled plot for employing the soldiers to massacre the inhabitants. Yet that some design was in progress, previous to the attack, is evident from the subsequent evidence of Lieutenant-Colonel Marshall : — " The bells were ring- ing, and the people began to collect as they do at the cry of fire. I had a mind to go out ; but I had a re- luctance, because J had been warned not to go out that night /" Between seven and eight o'clock, on the evening of the 5th, numbers of men came from the southern part of the town with sticks and other weapons in their hands ; at the same time about two hundred ran from the north section, armed in the same manner, and uttering loud execrations against the soldiers. Several parties collected in Dock Square, and about nine o'clock THE BOSTON MASSACRE. 21 attacked some soldiers belonging to Murray's bar- racks. An officer immediately appeared, and with much difficulty succeeded in getting the troops under shelter, and restrained them from firing. Part of the mob dared the soldiers to fire; others cried fire, in order to draw more people toward them; and soon after the city bells commenced ringing for the same purpose. As the soldiers were now under shelter, several persons endeavoured to persuade the mob to retire ; but, instead of doing so, they commenced tearing up the stalls of the market place in Dock Square. After this they assembled in the street, and were addressed by a tall man, in a large cloak and white wig ; after which they separated into three divisions, and pro- ceeded by different roads to King Street. Meanwhile an assault was made upon the sentry at the custom-house. It was commenced by a boy, who pointed to the soldier and exclaimed that he had knocked him down. On hearing this, about twenty young men called out, "Kill him! Kill him! Knock him down !" and came so near as to oblige the sentry to load his gun. The mob then pelted him with snow- balls, pieces of ice, and other missiles, and dared him to fire. As they advanced he mounted the steps, and knocked at the door for admittance ; but this not being opened, and the people pressing nearer, he called to the main guard for protection. Captain Preston, who was then officer of the day, being told that the ringing of the bells was the signal for the inhabitants to attack the troops, repaired to the main guard ; and learning the situation of the sentry, despatched a 22 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. corporal and six men, to protect both him and the king's chest in the custom-house. The soldiers march- ed with their pieces unloaded, followed by the captain, to prevent disorder. They were used as the sentry had been, and obliged to load for their own safety. The shouts, threats, screams, and yells of the mob, accompanied by the ringing of bells, alarmed the soldiers, who began exhorting them to keep off. At this moment, a gigantic mulatto, named Attucks, ac- companied by about a dozen persons in sailor habits, reached the custom-house, gave three cheers, sur- rounded the soldiers and struck their guns with clubs, at the same time crying out, " Do not be afraid of them — they dare not fire — kill them, kill them — knock them over," &c. The mulatto aimed a blow at Captain Preston, struck down one of the guns, and seized the bayonet with his left hand. At this moment some one cried, " Why don't you fire ?" and the words were scarcely uttered, before the fallen soldier sprang to his feet, levelled his gun, and fired. Attucks fell dead. In a few seconds another fired, and was followed by five in quick succession. Three persons were killed, five dangerously wounded, and a few slightly. The mob rushed back on all sides, but soon after returned to carry off the dead. The whole town was immediately in commotion. Drums beat to arms, bells were ringing in all direc- tions, and a constant cry was heard — " To arms ! To arms ! Turn out with your guns /" The governor, Mr. Hutchinson, prevailed on the mob to disperse for the night ; but on the following morning the whole town met in full assembly, and appointed a committee THE BOSTON MASSACRE. 23 Samuel Ada ms. to wait upon the governor with the following message : "It is the unanimous opinion of the meeting that nothing can rationally be expected to restore the peace of the town, and prevent blood and carnage, but the immediate removal of the troops." In the afternoon the lieutenant-governor received a similar message from about three thousand people. Mr. Samuel Adams, one of the committee, in his venerable gray locks, and with hands trembling under a nervous affection, told Colonel Dalrymple, "If you can re- move the Twenty-ninth regiment, you can also remove the Fourteenth ; and it is at your peril if you do not !" Governor Hutchinson replied, that nothing should ever induce him to order the troops away ; but agreed 24 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. to leave the matter to Colonel Dalrymple. After much altercation and tumult, the troops were removed. On the 8th of March, the funeral of the first re- volutionary martyrs took place. The shops were closed, and the bells of Boston, Charlestown, and Rox- bury tolled in the most doleful manner. The different processions formed a junction in King Street, where the soldiers had fired. Hence they proceeded through the main street, accompanied by a concourse so large that the ranks walked six abreast, followed by a long train of carriages belonging to the principal gentry of the town. On the 24th of October, Captain Preston's trial commenced, and was followed by that of the eight soldiers. All were acquitted except two, who were convicted of manslaughter. John Adams and Josiah Quincy, two of the most active popular leaders, acted as counsel for the prisoners. The result of this trial was in the highest degree honourable to our judiciary; demonstrating that amid all the tumult of passion, and deep sense of recent suffering, justice was still the only aim of the colonists. John Hancock. AFFAIR OF THE SLOOP LIBERTY. T had been the practice in every quarter of British America for the officers of the customs to allow mer- chants and shipmasters to enter in the custom-house books only a part of their imported cargoes, and to 26 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. land the remainder duty-free. To this practice, which became so inveterate that the colonists regarded the advantage accruing from it as a right, rather than an indulgence, the commissioners resolved to put a stop. A sloop called the Liberty, belonging to Hancock, having arrived at Boston laden with wine from Ma- deira (June 10, 1768), the captain, as usual, proposed to the tidewaiter who came to inspect the cargo, that part of it should be landed duty-free ; but, meeting a refusal, laid violent hands upon him, and, with the assistance of the crew, locked him up in the cabin till the whole cargo was carried ashore. The next morn- ing he entered a few pipes of the wine at the custom- house, as having formed all his lading ; but the com- missioners of the customs, insisting that the entry was deceptive, caused the sloop to be arrested. To secure the capture, it was proposed that the vessel should be removed from the wharf and towed under the guns of the Romney man-of-war; and, by the assistance of the Romney's boats, this was accord- ingly performed, in spite of the opposition of a great assemblage of people, who, finding their remon- strances disregarded, assaulted the custom-house offi- cers with a violence that had nearly proved fatal to their lives. (June 12.) On the following day, the populace, again as- sembling before the houses of the collector, comp- troller, and inspector-general of the customs, broke their windows, and then, seizing the collector's boat, dragged it through the town and burned it on the common. Their violence, whether satiated or not, AFFAIR OF THE SLOOP LIBERTY. 27 was checked at this point by the flight of the com- missioners and other officers of the customs, who, learning that renewed assemblages of the people were expected, and believing or affecting to believe that further outrages were meditated against themselves, hastily left the place, and took refuge, first on board the ship-of-war, and afterwards in Castle William. (June 13.) The city, meanwhile, resounded with complaints of the insult that was offered to the inhabitants in re- moving the sloop from the wharf, and thus proclaim- ing apprehensions of a rescue. These complaints were sanctioned by the assembly, who declared that the criminality of the rioters was extenuated by the irritating and unprecedented circumstance of the seizure ; but added, nevertheless, that, as the rioters deserved severe punishment, they must beseech the governor to direct that they should be prosecuted, and to proclaim a reward for their discovery. The rioters, however, had nothing to fear ; nor was any one of them ever molested. A suit for penalties was afterwards instituted against Hancock in the Court of Admiralty ; but the officers of the crown, finding it beyond their power to adduce sufficient evidence of facts, which, though everybody knew, nobody would attest, abandoned the prosecution and restored the vessel. The conduct of the officers in taxing the people, by implication, with the purpose of rescue, was generally condemned. It was, indeed, remarked by the few who ventured to defend it, that a rescue had actually taken place eigh- teen months before. But to this the advocates of the 28 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. people replied, that the popular temper had undergone a change since then, — as was verified by the fact that no subsequent rescue had been attempted ; — a fact the more certain, though the less significant, as in reality no seizure in the interim had been made. Unluckily, about a month after the arrest of Han- cock's vessel, a schooner, which was seized with a smuggled cargo of molasses, and left at the wharf under the care of the custom-house officers, was boarded during the night by a numerous body of men, who easily overpowered and confined the officers, and carried the cargo on shore. The inhabitants in general were greatly scandalized to find their recent declarations so completely falsified; and the Select- men of Boston, sending for the master of the schooner, ordered him to surrender the molasses directly, under pain of the displeasure of the town. He obeyed this injunction without a moment's hesitation. AFFAIR OF THE GASPEE. >N act of violence committed by the colonists of Rhode Island, excited general attention, from its significance as an indication of the height to which the gene- ral current of American senti- ment was rising (1772). The commander of the Gaspee, an armed British schooner stationed at Providence, had exerted much activity in supporting the trade laws oO REVOLUTIONARY WAR. and punishing the increasing contraband traffic of the Americans ; and had provoked additional resentment by firing at the Providence packets, in order to com- pel them to salute his flag by lowering theirs as they passed his vessel, and by chasing them even into the docks, in case of refusal. The master of a packet conveying passengers to Providence (June 9), which was fired at and chased by the Gaspee for neglecting to pay the requisite tri- bute of respect, took advantage of the state of the tide (it being almost high water), to stand in so closely to the shore, that the Gaspee, in the pursuit, might be exposed to run aground. The artifice succeeded ; the Gaspee presently stuck fast, and the packet pro- ceeded in triumph to Providence, where a strong sen- sation was excited by the tidings of the occurrence, and a project was hastily formed to improve the blow and destroy the obnoxious vessel. Brown, an eminent merchant, and Whipple, a ship-master, took the lead in this bold adventure, and easily collected a sufficient band of armed and resolute men, with whom they em- barked in whale-boats to attack the British ship-of- war. At two o'clock the next morning (June 10), they boarded the Gaspee so suddenly and in such numbers, that her crew were instantly overpowered, without hurt to any one except her commanding officer, who was wounded. The captors, having despatched a part of their number to convey him together with his private effects and his crew ashore, set fire to the Gaspee, and destroyed her with all her stores. The issue of this daring act of war against the AFFAIR OF THE GASPEE 33 naval force of the king was as remarkable as the en- terprise itself. The British government offered a reward of five hundred pounds, together with a par- don if claimed by an accomplice, for the discovery and apprehension of any person concerned in the treasonable attack on the Gaspee ; and a commission under the great seal of England appointed Wanton, the governor of Rhode Island, Peter Oliver, the new chief-justice of Massachusetts, Auchmuty, the judge- admiral of America, and certain other persons, to pre- side upon the trial of the offenders. But no trial took place. Nobody came forward to claim the proffered reward ; some persons, who were apprehended in the hope that they might be in- duced by threats and terror to become witnesses, were enabled by popular assistance to escape before any information could be extracted from them ; and in the commencement of the following year, the commis- sioners reported to the British ministry their inability, notwithstanding the most diligent inquisition, to pro- cure evidence or information against a single indi- vidual. THE TEA RIOT. N consequence of the pertinacious and successful exclusion of tea, that article had accumulated in the warehouses of the India Com- pany, occasioning to them great loss. It was accordingly pro- posed, that the British duty of a shilling a pound should be drawn back on the import into America, where one of only threepence was to be imposed. The colonists, who would thus procure it cheaper than the English, might, it was hoped, be gently manoeuvred out of the principle for which they so THE TEA RIOT. 37 obstinately contended. It was almost madness to renew in any shape a contest in which the government had been so repeatedly worsted; though this was really a small measure to issue in a vast rebellion, — a slender spark to kindle such a mighty conflagration. We must reproach the parliamentary friends of America, that they sounded no note of alarm, and this momentous vote passed in the usual silent and unregarded manner. The intelligence, when it reached the colonies, strongly roused the determination of the popular lead- ers. They were sensible, as is admitted by all their advocates, that if the tea were once landed and offer- ed for sale at the cheap rate which these arrange- ments allowed, nothing could prevent its being bought and consumed ; a circumstance whifch by no means indicates a very fervid zeal among the mass of the people. Large vessels, however, were already cross- ing the Atlantic, laden with this commodity, the in- troduction of which on so extensive a scale would completely break up their grand principle of non- taxation. They therefore determined to exert their utmost efforts to prevent the landing ; and possessing a paramount influence in the mercantile ports, ex- torted a promise from the consignee to refuse it, and thus oblige the vessels to carry back their lading. Unfortunately, the agents at Boston rejected this de- mand, and appealed to the governor, who promised protection ; but a mob was quickly collected, their houses were broken into, and themselves compelled to take refuge in Castle William. On the other hand, the governor and custom-house officers even 4 38 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. refused to permit the vessels which had arrived to depart without landing the tea. A general meeting of the inhabitants was then called, when resolutions were entered into to oppose such a proceeding ; and a guard was appointed, who watched night and day to prevent any portion of the cargo from being sent ashore. Some time after, another great assemblage met at Faneuil Hall, where one party recommended moderate measures ; but the majority discovered a violent spirit, and some undoubtedly desired to urge on steps which might issue in a total rupture. Mr. Quincy warned them, that a spirit was now necessary different from any hitherto displayed ; they were ad- vancing to " measures which must bring on the most trying and terrible struggle this.* country ever saw." The captain, who now sought to extricate himself from the affair, was allowed to make a last application to the governor for permission to depart ; but having returned and reported a refusal, the meeting separated. Immediately after, the harbour was thronged by a vast multitude, seventeen of whom, disguised as Mo- hawk Indians, went on board the ships, took full possession of them, and deliberately emptied the whole of their cargoes into the sea. Fanueil Hall. THE BOSTON PORT BILL. HEN intelligence of so fla- grant an outrage as the destruction of government stores by a lawless mob reached Parliament, mea- sures of extreme severity were immediately adopted. These were not akin to Lord North's disposition ; but he was probably goaded on by others, reproached for his previous concessions, and keenly sensible to 40 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. this total failure of his own favourite scheme. Now, he said, was the time to stand out, to defy them, to proceed with firmness and without fear. Boston was the centre whence all the present disorders emanated. It had been the ringleader in every riot, and set always the example which others only followed. To inflict a signal penalty on this city would be to strike at the root of the evil. He quoted several instances, as the murder of Dr. Lamb in London, under Charles II., and the execution of Captain Porteous by the Edinburgh mob, in which a whole city had been, punished for an offence committed by a large body of its inhabitants. It was proposed, therefore, that the port of Boston should be closed, and no goods allowed to be either shipped or landed. This interdict was to continue till the citizens should express a due sense of their error, and make full compensation to the company ; when the crown, if it should see sufficient reason, might restore its lost privileges. This motion, so big with war and disaster, when made in the House of Commons, met with such eager concurrence, that the very few who attempted oppo- sition could not without extreme difficulty obtain a hearing. Alderman Sawbridge was obliged to tell them, that though he could not speak long, he could sit long. Even Colonel Barre, the standing advocate for America, said he approved of this measure for its moderation. Some zealous supporters of authority indulged in the most imprudent violence of invective against the Americans. Mr. Herbert described them as a strange set of people, from whom it was vain to THE BOSTON PORT BILL. 41 expect any degree of reasoning ; they always chose tarring and feathering. Mr. Montague, second son to Lord Sandwich, attributed their boldness to the tame counsels, the weak and unmanly conduct of ministers, who allowed themselves to be swayed by a faction seeking popularity by clamour, and com- posed of the " vilest excrement of the earth." Mr. Van drew still greater attention, by declaring that the port ought to be knocked about their ears and destroyed, adding the quotation, " delenda est Car- thago.'''' The second reading passed without a division; but a petition was then presented by the lord mayor from a number of American settlers resident in London. It urged that the citizens of Boston had not been heard in their own defence, nor redress sought at common law. The place was not walled, nor held any executive power, and the offence had not even been committed within its limits. They proceeded, in very bold language, to observe that the attachment of their countrymen could not survive the justice of Great Britain, — a violation of which might extinguish the filial sentiments hitherto cherished. Some opposition was now mustered, Mr. Fuller pro- posing merely the imposition of a fine. Mr. Burke began that series of splendid orations which he devoted to the cause of American liberty. He denounced this confounding of the innocent and guilty, and expressed his heartfelt sorrow at the general aspect of affairs; the universal resistance of all America ; one town in proscription, the rest in rebellion ; not a port on its coast where goods could 4* 42 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. be landed and vended. The consequences would be dreadful, nay, he was afraid, destructive ; and he gave the prophetic warning, that ministers would draw upon themselves a foreign enemy at a time they little expected. Two former governors, Johnstone and Pownall, expressed themselves earnestly in favour of the Americans ; the former declaring he had advised the company against sending the tea, and was sure the affair would issue in rebellion. The latter excited the laughter of the house, by extolling the people for their love of order and peace. But it is remarkable, that none of their advocates now disputed the right of taxation. Mr. Dowdeswell referred to a time when this had been doubted by persons of great knowledge,- now there was no such opinion ; the policy only was questioned. It is remarkable that Mr. Fox on this occasion made his first appearance in parliamentary life, by objecting to the power vested in the crown of reopening the port ; a suggestion which was not supported by either party. The bill passed without a division. In the Lords, however, it encountered a stronger opposition from certain noblemen of great eminence and talent, par- ticularly Rockingham, Shelburne, and Richmond ; but the debates have not been preserved, and it passed finally without any protest. However severe this measure, it seems not im- probable that, had the minister stopped there, affairs might yet have been adjusted. Unhappily, the recol- lection of the advices of Bernard and Hutchinson, the long and obstinate opposition of the Massachusetts THE BOSTON PORT BILL. 43 Lord George Germain. government, the recent outrage doubtless supported by some of its members, impelled to a determination of proceeding further, and divesting Boston of those privileges, certainly ample, which it had hitherto enjoyed. The town-meetings were to be prohibited, unless with the consent of the governor, who was also to have the appointment of all civil officers, except the supreme judges." On the suggestion of Lord George Germain, who warmly seconded the motion, the council was to be nominated solely by the crown, and juries to be chosen in a less popular manner. All the advocates of America, including Colonel Barre, and others who had acquiesced in the first bill, encountered the present with decided hos- 44 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. tility. The opposition divided against it, though mustering only sixty-four to two hundred and thirty- nine. In the Lords it was resisted with greater energy, and voted against, though only by twenty to ninety-two ; but eleven signed a protest. While this bill was going through its stages, the minister crowned the whole by a third, respecting individuals charged with offences against the state. According to a law formerly passed, but never exe- cuted, they might be conveyed for trial either to Britain or to some other colony. There was doubt- less little prospect in New England of convicting them by jury for offences in which their countrymen generally sympathized ; still, the being removed for trial to a remote country, the inhabitants of which were generally hostile, was a measure full of hardship and terror. Barre denounced it as big with misery and apprehension to America, and of danger to Great Britain. Let the banner of rebellion be once spread, and the British were an undone people. Ministers were urging this desperate, this destructive issue, and with such violence as if insurrection were their de- liberate purpose. Alderman Sawbridge declared, if the provincials submitted, they would be the most abject slaves that ever the earth produced. Pownall loudly predicted a congress, and perhaps a war. At the same time, another petition was presented by the resident Americans, describing the state to which these bills would reduce their countrymen as one of total slavery. While boasting of their loyal feelings, and their horror at an unnatural contest, they indicated not obscurely that such must be the THE BOSTON PORT BILL 45 result of an attempt to execute these laws. The bill however, passed in a thinner house, but with even a larger majority than the former, one hundred and twenty-seven to twenty-four. In the Lords, though there was a similar opposition, and a protest by eight peers, it was carried by forty-nine to twelve. Carpenter's Hall. FIRST CONTINENTAL CONGRESS -CONSEQUENT PARLIAMENTARY PROCEEDINGS. Mg=**£=SkM^s=* HE Congress, destined to change the face of America, met at Car- penter's Hall, Philadelphia, on the 5th of September, 1774. They determined that their de- liberations should be secret, that the results should be given to the world as unanimous, and no -as- difference of opinion allowed to transpire. A committee was immediately appointed to report upon the rights violated, the injuries sus- tained, and the means of redress. Separate ones FIRST CONTINENTAL CONGRESS. 47 were afterwards named to prepare addresses to the people of Great Britain, to the king, to the colonists, and to the Canadians. These documents being submitted to Congress, and having undergone some revisal and alteration, were produced to the world. The grievances com- plained of were chiefly the imposition of taxes by the British Parliament, the quartering of troops, and the several acts relating to Massachusetts. Their de- mand was, to be replaced in exactly the same state as at the conclusion of the last war. No mention was introduced of the Pennsylvanian conciliatory propo- sitions, — the voluntary grant of a revenue, or com- pensation to the company. No acknowledgment was made of any errors committed by their countrymen, requiring apology or atonement. They merely un- dertook to provide for their civil government, for an effective militia, and in case of war, to exert their most strenuous efforts in granting supplies and raising men. The people of Massachusetts were strictly enjoined not to submit to any act under the new constitution. The time, however, was considered not yet come for resisting by force. They were to make an attempt to gain their objects by a solemn engage- ment, that, after the 1st of December, 1774, no article should be imported from the mother country or her colonies ; and if, by the 10th of September, 1775, their demands were not satisfied, all exports to these quarters should cease. In the petition to the king, their expressions of duty and loyalty were strong, — more so than in the first draft, which, in this respect, was considered 48 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. deficient. To the people of Britain they expressed an ardent desire to maintain the union as their greatest glory and happiness, and to contribute with their utmost power to the welfare of the whole empire. They concluded, however, — " but if you are determined that your ministers shall wantonly sport with the rights of mankind ; if neither the voice of justice, the dictates of the law, the principles of the constitution, or the suggestions of humanity, can restrain your hands from shedding human blood in such an impious cause, we must then tell you, that we will never submit to be hewers of wood or drawers of water for any ministry or nation in the world." The intelligence of most of these proceedings had reached Britain before the meeting of Parliament in November, 1774. The king's speech announced the violences committed in Massachusetts and counte- nanced by the other colonies, declaring a resolution to withstand every attempt to weaken or impair the authority of the British legislature. This was re- echoed by large majorities in both houses, though under a protest by nine lords, a proceeding very unusual on such occasions. Parliament was soon after prorogued ; and ministers do not seem to have formed any fixed resolution, as they made no increase in the votes either for the army or navy. In the course of the recess, however, further intelligence being received, the determination was at length formed to employ coercive measures. As a prelude, Lord North, when the houses met on the 19th of January, 1775, laid before them a large mass of Lord Chaiha PROCEEDINGS OF PARLIAMENT. 51 documents received from the governors of the dif- ferent colonies, and which were submitted to a com- mittee. On the 20th, proceedings were opened by Lord Chatham proposing an address to the king for the removal of the troops from Boston. " Something," he said, " must be done instantly ; there must be no further delay — no, not for a moment ; the thing might be over ; one drop of blood shed, and the wound was incurable." This army could serve no useful purpose, since it could never subdue the whole American people ; it was an army of impotence — an army of irritation. He again justified the colonists in resisting such measures as those imposed on them, and panegyrized the congress as having displayed a higher wisdom than the assemblies of ancient Greece ; he wished the young men of Great Britain would imitate them. The oppressive acts must be repealed. "I pledge myself for it, that you will in the end repeal them. I stake my reputation on it. I will consent to be taken for an idiot, if they are not." It is better then to concede with a good grace, than to hold out till compelled by necessity. Yet he still stood for the legislative supremacy of England, and even conceived that without it the British crown would not be worth the wearing. The motion was supported by Shelburne, Camden, Rockingham, and Richmond; but ministers urged, not without some reason, that to recede at this moment, after having gone so far, and in the face of such a daring re- sistance, would really amount to a complete sub- mission, and involve the loss of all their authority. 52 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. They reproached the mover with sowing divisions, and giving encouragement to the malecontents. The motion was negatived by sixty-eight to eighteen. Chatham, however, immediately followed it up by a bill for settling the transatlantic troubles. It pro- posed to renounce the power of taxation, but to call upon Congress to acknowledge the supreme legislative power of Britain, and invite them to make a free grant of a certain annual revenue, to be employed in meeting the charge on the national debt. All the obnoxious acts were then to be repealed. The Earl of Dartmouth was willing that it should lie on the table ; but this was strongly condemned and opposed by the other members, and, after a warm debate, was negatived, though thirty-two against sixty-one voted in its favour. Lord Camden afterwards bitterly reproached the house, that a plan coming from so high a quarter should, without examination, have been spurned and trampled upon. " Obliterate," said he, " the transaction from your records ; let not posterity know it." The minister, meantime, in a committee of the Commons, intimated his plans for coercing the colo- nies, by sending out an additional force, and by crushing the foreign trade and fisheries of New England. He proposed an address approving these measures, declaring Massachusetts to be in rebellion, and assuring his majesty of full support in main- taining his just rights and those of Parliament. After some stormy debates, in which the usual arguments were reiterated, it was carried in both houses ; in the lower by two hundred and ninety-six to one hundred PROCEEDINGS OF PARLIAMENT. 53 and six; in the upper by eighty-seven to twenty- seven, eighteen peers protesting. This was followed, on a royal message, by an additional vote of two thousand seamen, and four thousand four hundred land troops. The minister then brought into the Commons his anti-commercial bill against New England, afterwards extended to the other colonies. This was represented as a just punishment for their contumacious proceedings, and only a fair retaliation of the similar course adopted by Congress. It en- countered the usual opposition, Lord Camden saying : " It is a bill of war — it draws the sword." Rash and contemptuous expressions were used by members on the government side. General Grant declared that, with five regiments of infantry, he could drive them from one end of the continent to the other. Lord Sandwich described them as a raw, undisciplined, cowardly rabble, who, at the • first sound of cannon, would run off as fast as their feet could carry them ; their real object, he declared, was to defraud their creditors. Lord Suffolk, secretary of state, censured the use of contumelious expressions, and represented the measure to be merely temporary, with the view of bringing the Americans to their duty. It was carried, as usual, by large majorities, — one hundred and eighty-eight to fifty-eight in the one house, and seventy-three to twenty-one in the other. After this series of coercive measures, Lord North, who had occasionally shown some symptoms of re- lenting, surprised the house by a conciliatory propo- sition. Its tenor was, that when the assembly in any colony should propose, besides maintaining its own 5* 54 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. civil government, to raise a certain revenue, and make it disposable by Parliament, it would be proper to forbear imposing any tax unless for the regulation of commerce. To these terms, it was objected by the parliamentary friends of the colonists, and after- wards by themselves, that they remedied no grievance except taxation, and even on that head contained nothing specific. It referred all to a future decision of the British legislature, in whose friendly disposition they were far from confiding. The premier had also to sustain a hot fire from his usual supporters, who branded this step as grossly inconsistent with the address and with all the other measures. He was obliged to represent that the rejection of these terms, admitted as highly probable, would at least increase the number of the well-affected, and divide the male- contents. The proposal was carried by two hundred and seventy-four to eighty-eight. Mr. Burke then brought forward, and eloquently supported, a series of resolutions, in which, without entering into any question of speculative right, a complete practical concession was made of the points in dispute. Their fate might be easily conjectured, being negatived by two hundred and seventy to seventy-eight. The mercantile interest, however, smarting under the cessation of intercourse, adopted with ardour the cause of the colonists. On the 10th of April, an address was presented to the king by the lord mayor, aldermen, and livery of London, condemning all the late measures against the Americans, and pronouncing their resistance justifiable. A stern answer was re- turned, expressing astonishment that any subject FAILURE OF NEGOTIATIONS. 55 should be capable of abetting and encouraging such rebellious courses. The British government appears, after all, to have cherished a strong desire for pacification. Doctor Franklin being still resident in London, two gen- tlemen, with the consent of some of the ministry, earnestly solicited him to suggest some conciliatory plan. He drew up, under the title of " Hints," seven- teen propositions, embracing of course all the de- mands of America, conceding payment for the tea, and certain contributions of revenue. While these were under discussion, Lord Howe procured an in- troduction to him, and expressed an earnest wish for reconciliation, though he was afraid the terms would never be accepted. On the 4th of February, 1775, however, two months after their delivery, an answer was returned, agreeing, in an extent at least likely to be satisfactory, to the whole, except the abolition of the new constitution of Massachusetts. This, it was said, as being a real improvement, and as a standing example of the power of Parliament, must be con- tinued. Franklin answered, that the claim of altering the charters and rights upon which the governments were founded, without the consent of the parties to whom they had been granted, was one which could never be submitted to. Yet another series of pro- posals were on the 16th of February presented from the ministry, but as they did not concede this article, the negotiation was unhappily broken up. ORGANIZATION OF THE MINUTE-MEN. OTWITHSTANDING the numer- ous attempts at pacification, the breach between England and Massa- chusetts was daily widening. Al- though allegiance to the mother country was professedly maintained, yet the governor found himself unable to enforce even the slightest commands. Orders for the meeting of an Assembly at Salem, had been issued by General Gage on the 5th of October ; but fearing that, from the condition of popular feeling, they might adopt measures prejudicial to the royal authority, he subsequently countermanded the order. This measure gave so much dissatisfaction, that on the day appointed the representatives actually met, MINUTE-MEN. 57 organized themselves into a provincial congress, and adjourned to Concord. Here they made choice of Hancock to be their president, and appointed a committee to present to the governor a remonstrance against all his recent mea- sures, concluding with an earnest request that he would desist from the construction of the fortress which he was erecting at the entrance of Boston, " and restore that place to its neutral state." Gage, who, though capable of dissimulation, possessed a hotter temper than befitted his elevated station and difficult pre- dicament, took fire at this language ; he expressed the warmest displeasure at the supposition of danger from English troops to any but the enemies of Eng- land; and desired the committee to convey to the congress his warning counsel that they should hasten to desist from their illegal proceedings. Disregarding his admonition and defying his power, the provincial congress adjourned to Cambridge, where, relieved from all doubts of the general support of America, they embraced and pursued measures of unexampled boldness and vigour. They appointed a committee to prepare a plan for the immediate defence of the pro- vince ; gave orders for the enlistment of a number of the inhabitants to be in readiness, at a minute' 1 s warn- ing, to appear in arms ; elected three general officers (Preble, Ward, and Pomeroy) to command these minute-men and the provincial militia in case of their being called to active service ; and appointed a coun- cil of safety and a committee of supplies. One of the secretaries whom they elected was Benjamin Lincoln, afterwards a general in the American service, and 58 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. highly distinguished as a gallant and indefatigable partisan of his country's cause. Reassembling after an adjournment of a few weeks (November), the same congress, sensible that their countrymen applauded their measures, and that their constituents were pre- pared to yield implicit obedience to their decrees, passed an ordinance for the equipment of twelve thousand men to act on any emergency, and for the enlistment of a fourth part of the militia as minute- men ; appointed two additional general officers, Thomas and Heath; and sent delegates to New Hampshire, Rhode Island, and Connecticut, to request the co-operation of those provinces in completing an army of twenty thousand men. A committee was likewise appointed to correspond with the inhabitants of Canada ; and circular letters were addressed to all the clergymen of Massachusetts, requesting their assistance to avert impending slavery. And now all America was aroused by expectation of awful conflict and mighty change. New England, upon which the first violence of the storm seemed likely to descend, was agitated by rumours and alarms, of which the import and influence strikingly portrayed the sentiments and temper of the people. Reports that Gage had commanded his troops to attack the Massachusetts militia, or to fire upon the town of Boston, were swallowed with the avidity of rage and hatred, and instantly covered the highways with thousands of armed men, mustering in hot haste, and eager to rush forward to death or revenge. Everything betokened the explosion of a tempest; and some partial gusts announced its near approach, MINUTE-MEN. 59 and proved the harbingers of its fury. In the close of the year, there reached America a proclamation issued by the king, prohibiting the exportation of military stores from Great Britain. The inhabitants of Rhode Island no sooner received intelligence of this mandate, than they removed from the public battery about forty pieces of cannon ; and the assembly of the ' province gave orders for procuring arms and martial stores, and for the immediate equipment of a military force. Colonel Pickering. PATRICK HENRY -SECOND PROVINCIAL CON- GRESS-FIRST MILITARY ENTERPRISE. HE example of Massachusetts in preparing for de- fence was follow- ed by the other ^ provinces ; and warlike coun- $ sels were boldly broached in the provincial assem- blies and con- Patrick Henry. PATRICK HENRY. 63 gresses. When (March 23) some members of the Virginia assembly urged the postponement of these preparations, reminding their colleagues of the power of Britain and the comparative weakness of America, and insisting that it would be time enough to fly to arms when every well-founded hope of peace had entirely vanished, — Patrick Henry, with vehement and victorious eloquence, contended that that time had already come. " It is natural," said he, " to man, to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are prone to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that enchantress till she transforms us into beasts. There is no longer any room for hope. We must fight. I repeat it, sir, we must fight. An appeal to arms, and to the God of Hosts, is all that is left us. They tell us that we are weak, and unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger ? Will it be when our supine- ness shall have enabled our enemies to bind us hand and foot ? Sir, we are not weak, if we make use of those means which the God of nature has placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as ours, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Nor shall we fight our battles alone. That God who presides over the destinies of nations, will raise up friends to aid us. The battle is not to the strong alone ; but to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, we have no longer a choice. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery. Our chains are forged ; 64 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston. The war is inevitable, and let it come ! Gentlemen may cry, ' Peace ! Peace !' — but there is no peace. The war is actually begun. The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms." These last words proved prophetic. The provincial congress, which had now (1775) superseded the General Court of Massachusetts, as- sembling in the beginning of February, published an address acquainting the people, that, from the large reinforcements of troops that were expected at Bos- ton, the tenor of intelligence from Britain, and other indications, they had reason to apprehend that the sudden destruction of the colony was intended ; and urging in the strongest terms the militia in general, and the minute-men in particular, to spare neither time, pains, nor expense, to perfect themselves in military preparation. They also passed resolutions for procuring and making firearms and bayonets, and decreed an issue of provincial bills of credit to the amount of fifty thousand pounds. The military preparations which they recommended were diligently pursued, and artillery and provisions were collected at various places. General Gage was not an inat- tentive spectator of these proceedings. Having learned that some military stores belonging to the colonists were deposited in Salem, he despatched Colonel Leslie from Castle William, on the 26th of February, with one hundred and forty soldiers in a transport to seize them. The troops, landing at Marblehead, proceeded to Salem; but not finding FIRST MILITARY ENTERPRISE. 65 there the object of their expedition, they advanced along the road leading to Danvers, whither the stores had been removed, and reached the drawbridge laid across the river. Here a number of the country people were assembled, and on the opposite side the American colonel, Pickering, had mustered thirty or forty armed men, and, having drawn up the bridge, stood prepared to dispute the passage of the river. Leslie commanded them to lower the bridge ; but, as they peremptorily refused, he was preparing to cross the river in some boats that were moored to the shore, when the people, who had gathered around him, perceiving his intention, sprang into the boats and scuttled them with axes. The day of this oc- currence was a Sunday ; and, as most of the neigh- bouring inhabitants were at church, this circumstance (as Gage was supposed to have anticipated) pre- vented the diffusion of alarm, and diminished the concourse of armed Americans. A conflict, never- theless, was on the point of ensuing, when it was averted by the prudent interposition of Barnard, one of the Congregational ministers of Salem, who, finding Leslie determined to cross the river, but willing, if this point were yielded, to content himself with marching thirty paces beyond it, and then return without at- tempting further progress, prevailed with his country- men to indulge the British with this empty triumph, which, indeed, could have been pushed no further, as the stores were already removed, during the delay that had been created. At length the bridge was lowered ; and Pickering, with his men still facing the British troops, retired to the line they had measured 66 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. and marked. Leslie and his soldiers, after advancing to the stipulated point, returned and embarked for Boston. Thus ended the first military enterprise of the Revolutionary War, without effect and without bloodshed ; but not without additionally kindling the spirit, the vigilance, and the jealousy of the Ameri- cans, and inflaming the bitter animosity progressively created between them and the British soldiery. They declared that Gage and his troops (doubtless en- couraged by secret orders from Britain) had treated them as rebels, before the British government itself dared to affix this stigma upon them; and that the previous seizures of arms on their own part in New Hampshire and Rhode Island, were merely retaliatory measures and defensive preparations. In such cir- cumstances, an expedition as harmless as the last was not likely again to occur ; and it needed less the sagacity of Patrick Henry to foresee, than his spirit and intrepidity firmly to contemplate, the more serious trial which the resolution of the people of Massa- chusetts was soon to undergo. BATTLES OF LEXINGTON AND CONCORD. CONSIDERABLE quantity of military stores having been de- posited at Concord, an inland town, about eighteen miles from Boston, General Gage purposed to destroy them. For the exe- cution of this design, he, on the night preceding the 19th of April, detached lieu- tenant-Colonel Smith and Major Pitcairn, with eight hundred grenadiers and light infantry ; who, at eleven o'clock, embarked in boats at the bottom of the 68 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. common in Boston, crossed the river Charles, and, landing at Phipps's farm in Cambridge, commenced a silent and expeditious march for Concord. Although several British officers, who dined at Cambridge the preceding day, had taken the pre- caution to disperse themselves along the road lead- ing to Concord, to intercept any expresses that might be sent from Boston to alarm the country; yet mes- sengers, who had been sent from town for that pur- pose, had eluded the British patrols, and given an alarm, which was rapidly spread by church bells, signal guns, and volleys. The march of the British was so cautious, that they remained undiscovered till within a mile and a half of Lexington meeting-house, and time was scarce left for the last messenger to return with the tidings of their approach. The new alarm is now given ; the bell rings, alarm guns are fired, the drum beats to arms. Some of the militia had gone home, when dismissed ; but the greater part were in the neighbouring houses, and instantly obeyed the summons. Sixty or seventy appeared on the green, and were drawn up in double ranks. At this moment the British column of eight hundred gleaming bayonets appears, headed by their mounted commanders, their banners flying and drums beating a charge. To engage them with a handful of militia of course was madness, — to fly at the sight of them, they disdained. The British troops rush furiously on ; their commanders, with mingled threats and execrations, bid the Americans lay down their arms and disperse, and their own troops to fire. LEXINGTON AND CONCORD. 69 A moment's delay, as of compunction, follows. The order with vehement imprecations is repeated, and they fire. No one falls, and the band of self- devoted heroes, most of whom had never seen such a body of troops before, stand firm in the front of an army, outnumbering them ten to one. Another volley succeeds ; the killed and wounded drop, and it was not till they had returned the fire of the overwhelming force, that the militia were driven from the field. A scattered fire now succeeded on both sides while the Americans remained in sight ; and the British troops were then drawn up on the green, to fire a volley and give a shout in honour of the victory. On arriving at Concord, it was the first care of the British commander to cut off the approach of the Americans from the neighbouring towns, by destroying or occupying the bridges. A party was immediately sent to the south bridge and tore it up. A force of six companies, under Captains Parsons and Lowrie, was sent to the north bridge. Three companies un- der Captain Lowrie were left to guard it, and three under Captain Parsons proceeded to Colonel Barrett's house, in search of provincial stores. While they were engaged on that errand, the militia of Concord, joined by their brave brethren from the neighbouring towns, gathered on the hill opposite the north bridge, under the command of Colonel Robinson and Major Buttrick. The British companies at the bridge were now apparently bewildered with the perils of their situation, and began to tear up the planks of the bridge ; not remembering that this would expose their 70 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. own party, then at Colonel Barrett's, to certain and entire destruction. The Americans, on the other hand, resolved to keep open the communication with the town; and perceiving the attempt which was made to destroy the bridge, were immediately put in motion, with orders not to give the first fire. They draw near to the bridge, the Acton company in front, led on by the gallant Davis. Three alarm guns were fired into the water, by the British, without arresting the march of our citizens. The signal for a general discharge is then made; — a British soldier steps from the ranks and fires at Major Buttrick. The ball passed between his arm and his side, and slightly wounded Mr. Luther Blanchard, who stood near him. A volley instantly followed, and Captain Davis was shot through the heart, gallantly marching at the head of the Acton militia against the choice troops of the British line. A private of his company, Mr. Hosmer, of Acton, also fell at his side. A general action now ensued, which terminated in the retreat of the British party, after the loss of several killed and wounded, toward the centre of the town, followed by the brave band who had driven them from their post. The advance party of British at Colonel Barrett's was thus left to its fate; and nothing would have been more easy than to effect its entire destruction. But the idea of a declared war had yet scarcely forced itself, with all its consequences, into the minds of our countrymen ; and these advanced companies were allowed to return unmolested to the main band. LEXINGTON AND CONCORD. 73 It was now twelve hours since the first alarm had been given, the evening before, of the meditated ex- pedition. The swift watches of that eventful night had scattered the tidings far and wide ; and widely as they spread, the people rose in their strength. The genius of America, on this the morning of her emancipation, had sounded her horn over the plains and upon the mountains ; and the indignant yeomanry of the land, armed with the weapons which had done service in their fathers' hands, poured to the spot where this new and strange tragedy was acting. The old New Eng- land drums, that had beat at Louisbourg, at Quebec, at Martinique, at the Havana, were now sounding on all the roads to Concord. There were officers in the British line that knew the sound ; they had heard it, in the deadly breach, beneath the black, deep-throated engines of the French and Spanish castles. With the British it was a question no longer of protracted hostility, nor even of halting long enough to rest their exhausted troops, after a weary night's march, and all the labour, confusion, and distress of the day's efforts. Their dead were hastily buried in the public square ; their wounded placed in the vehicles which the town afforded ; and a flight commenced, to which the annals of British warfare will hardly afford a parallel. On all the neighbouring hills, were multitudes from the surrounding country, of the unarmed and infirm, of women and of children, who had fled from the ter- rors and the perils of the plunder and conflagration of their homes ; or were collected, with fearful curiosity, to mark the progress of this storm of war. The 7 74 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. Retreat from Concord. panic fears of a calamitous flight, on the part of the British, transformed this inoffensive, timid throng into a threatening array of armed men ; and there was too much reason for the misconception. Every height of ground, within reach of the line of march, was covered with the indignant avengers of their slaughtered breth- ren. The British light companies were sent out to great distances as flanking parties ; but who was to flank the flankers ? Every patch of trees, every rock, every stream of water, every building, every stone wall, was lined (I use the words of a British officer in the battle), was lined with an unintermitted fire. Before the flying troops had reached Lexington, their rout was entire. An English historian says, the British soldiers were driven before the Americans like LEXINGTON AND CONCORD. 75 sheep ; till, by a last desperate effort, the officers suc- ceeded in forcing their way to the front, " when they presented their swords and bayonets against the breasts of their own men, and told them if they ad- vanced they should die." Upon this, they began to form, under what the same British officer pronounces " a very heavy fire," which must soon have led to the destruction or capture of the whole corps. At this critical moment, it pleased Providence that a reinforcement should arrive. Colonel Smith had sent back a messenger from Lexington, to apprise General Gage of the check he had there received, and of the alarm which was running through the country. Three regiments of infantry, and two divisions of marines, with two field-pieces, under the command of Brigadier-General Lord Percy, were accordingly de- tached. They marched out of Boston, through Rox- bury and Cambridge, and came up with the flying party, in the hour of their extreme peril. While their field-pieces kept the Americans at bay, the reinforce- ment drew up in a hollow square, into which, says the British historian, they received the exhausted fugitives, " who lay down on the ground, with their tongues hanging from their mouths, like dogs after a chase." A half-hour was given to rest; the march was then resumed; and under cover of the field-pieces, every house in Lexington, and on the road down- wards, was plundered and set on fire. Though the flames in most cases were speedily extinguished, several houses were destroyed. Notwithstanding the attention of a great part of the Americans was thus 76 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. Earl Percy. drawn off, and although the British force was now more than doubled, their retreat still wore the aspect of a flight. The Americans filled the heights that overhung the road, and at every defile the struggle was sharp and bloody. At West Cambridge the gallant Warren (never distant when danger was to be braved) appeared in the field, and a musket-ball soon cut off a lock of hair from his temple. General Heath was with him, nor does there appear till this moment to have been any effective command among the American forces. Below West Cambridge, the militia from Dor- chester, Roxbury, and Brookline, came up. The British field-pieces began to lose their terror. A sharp skirmish followed, and many fell on both sides. LEXINGTON AND CONCORD. 77 Indignation and outraged humanity struggled on the one hand, veteran discipline and desperation on the other ; and the contest, in more than one instance, was man to man, and bayonet to bayonet. The British officers had been compelled to de- scend from their horses, to escape the certain de- struction which attended their exposed situation. The wounded, to the number of two hundred, now presented the most distressing and constantly in- creasing obstruction to the progress of the march. Near one hundred brave men had fallen in this dis- astrous flight ; a considerable number had been made prisoners; a round or two of ammunition only re- mained ; and it was not till late in the evening, nearly twenty-four hours from the time when the first de- tachment was put in motion, that the exhausted remnant reached the heights of Charlestown. The boats of the vessels-of-war were immediately employed to transport the wounded ; the remaining British troops in Boston came over to Charlestown to pro- tect their weary countrymen during the night ; and, before the close of the next day, the royal army was formally besieged in Boston. It was one of those great days, one of those ele- mental occasions in the world's affairs, when the people rise, and act for themselves. Some organi- zation and preparation had been made ; but, from the nature of the case, with scarce any effect on the events of that day. It may be doubted whether there was an efficient order given the whole day, to any body of men as large as a regiment. It was the people, in their first capacity, as citizens and as 78 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. freemen, starting from their beds at midnight, from their firesides, and from their fields, to take their own cause into their own hands. Such a spectacle is the height of the moral sub- lime ; when the want of everything is fully made up by the spirit of the cause, and the soul within stands in place of discipline, organization, resources. In the prodigious efforts of a veteran army, beneath the dazzling splendour of their array, there is something revolting to the reflective mind. The ranks are filled with the desperate, the mercenary, the depraved ; an iron slavery, by the name of subordination, merges the free will of one hundred thousand men in the unqualified despotism of one; the humanity, mercy, and remorse, which scarce ever deserts the individual bosom, are sounds without a meaning to that fearful, ravenous, irrational monster of prey, a mercenary army. It is hard to say who are most to be com- miserated, the wretched people on whom it is let loose, or the still more wretched people whose sub- stance has been sucked out to nourish it into strength and fury. But, in the efforts of the people — of the people struggling for their rights, moving not in organized, disciplined masses, but in their spontaneous action, man for man, and heart for heart, — though I like not war nor any of its works, — there is something glorious. They can then move forward without orders, act together without combination, and brave the flaming lines of battle without intrenchments to cover, or walls to shield them. No dissolute camp has worn off from the feelings LEXINGTON AND CONCORD. 79 of the youthful soldier the freshness of that home where his mother and his sisters sit waiting, with tearful eyes and aching hearts, to hear good news from the wars; no long service in the ranks of a conqueror has turned the veteran's heart into marble ; their valour springs not from recklessness, from habit, from indifference to the preservation of a life knit by no pledges to the life of others. But in the strength and spirit of the cause alone they act, they contend, they bleed. In this, they conquer. The people always conquer. They must always conquer. Armies may be defeated ; kings may be over- thrown, and new dynasties imposed by foreign arms on an ignorant and slavish race, that care not in what language the covenant of their subjection runs, nor in whose name the deed of their barter and sale is made out. But the people never invade ; and, when they rise against the invader, are never subdued. If they are driven from the plains, they fly to the mountains. Steep rocks and everlasting hills are their castles; the tangled, pathless thicket, their palisado ; and Nature — God, is their ally. Now he overwhelms the hosts of their enemies, beneath his drifting mountains of sand ; now he buries them be- neath a falling atmosphere of polar snows ; he lets loose his tempests on their fleets ; he puts a folly into their counsels, a madness into the hearts of their leaders ; and never gave, and never will give, a full and final triumph over a virtuous, gallant people, resolved to be free. BATTLE OF BUNKER'S HILL. HE traveller who vis- its Boston, cannot fail to associate in his mind the field of battle where the early heroes of the revolu- tion first established the character of that BATTLE OF BUNKER'S HILL. 83 event, marked as it was by undaunted resolution, the offspring of a determined purpose. From the State House of Massachusetts, conspicuously seated on an eminence, the eye ranges over Charlestown, a con- siderable town that now adjoins Boston by a spacious bridge. The patriot will scarcely content himself with a remote view of this impressive scene, designated by the celebrated Bunker's Hill Monument. At a distance of about two miles, some hills are discerned, viz: — Prospect Hill, Plowed Hill, Breed's Hill, and Bunker's Hill. As you advance on the road in the rear of the navy yard at Charles- town, Breed's Hill rears its venerable brow on the left. Here it was, that a detachment from the American army of one thousand men, under Colonel Prescott, began at twelve o'clock in the night of the 16th of June, 1775, to throw up some works, extending from Charlestown to the river which separates that town from Boston. They proceeded with such secrecy and despatch, that the officers of a ship-of-war then in the river expressed their astonishment, when in the morning they saw in- trenchments reared and fortified in the space of a few hours, where, from the contiguity of the situation, they least expected the Americans would look them in the face. The alarm being immediately given, orders were issued that a continual fire should be kept playing upon the unfinished works, from the ships, the floating bat- teries in the river, and Copp's Hill, a fortified post of the British in Boston, directly opposite the American redoubt; but, with extraordinary perseverance, the 84 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. Americans continued to strengthen their works, not returning a shot till noon, when a number of boats and barges rilled with regular troops from Boston ap- proached Charlestown. The day was exceedingly hot. Ten companies of grenadiers, ten of light in- fantry, with a proportion of field-artillery, landed at Moreton's Point, the whole commanded by Major- General Howe and Brigadier-General Pigot. These troops having formed, remained in that position till joined by a second detachment of light infantry and grenadier companies, the 47th regiment, and a bat- talion of marines, making in the whole near three thousand men. The Americans had not a rifleman amongst them, not one being yet arrived from the southward, nor had they any rifle pieces ; they had but common muskets, and these mostly without bayonets; but then they were almost all marksmen, being accustomed to sport- ing of one kind or other from their youth. A reinforce- ment of Massachusetts troops was posted in a redoubt, and in part of the breastwork nearest it. The left of the breastwork, and the open ground stretching beyond its point to the water side, along which time did not admit of accomplishing the work, were occu- pied partly by the Massachusetts, and partly by the Connecticut men under Captain Knowlton of Ashford, and the New Hampshire under Colonel Stark, the whole amounting to about one thousand five hundred men. By direction of the officers the troops upon the open ground pulled up the post and rail fence, and carrying it forward to another of the same kind, and placing BATTLE OF BUNKER'S HILL. 85 some clods of grass between, formed a slight defence in some parts. A critical scene now opened to the view. The British regulars, formed in two lines, advanced slowly, frequently halting to give time for the artillery to fire. The light infantry were directed to force the left point of the breastwork, and to take the American line in flank. The grenadiers advanced to attack in front, supported by two battalions, under General Howe, while the left, under General Pigot, inclined to the right of the American line. As the British advanced nearer and nearer to the attack, a carcass was discharged from Copp's Hill, which set on fire an old house in Charlestown, and the flames quickly spread to others. The houses at the eastern end of Charlestown were set on fire by seamen from the boats. The whole town, consisting of about three hundred dwelling- houses, and nearly two hundred other buildings, speedily became involved in one great blaze, being chiefly of timber. The large meeting-house, by its aspiring steeple, formed a pyramid of fire above the rest. The houses, heights, and steeples in Boston were covered with spectators of this anxious scene, and the sur- rounding hills were occupied by others. The slow movement of the British troops ad- vancing to the attack, afforded to the Americans the advantage of taking a surer and more deliberate aim. The wind having shifted, carried the smoke from the conflagration in such a direction that the British had not the cover of it in their approach. The destruc- tion of the place, however, served to prevent their opponents from effecting a lodgment in the houses, 8 86 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. whence they might have annoyed to advantage. General Warren, who had been appointed by Con- gress a major-general in their armies only four days before, was everywhere aiding and encouraging his men. General Pomeroy commanded a brigade, and General Putnam, a brave and meritorious officer, directed the whole on the fall of General Warren. The troops were ordered to reserve their fire until the close approach of the British. They strictly obeyed, with a steadiness and composure that would have done honour to the most approved veterans; and when the enemy had arrived within ten or twelve rods, poured in a discharge of small arms, which arrested and so staggered their foes that they could BATTLE OF BUNKER'S HILL. 87 only for a time return it, without advancing a step. Finding the stream of the American fire so incessant as to mow down whole sections, they retired in dis- order to the river. Rallying as well as their extra- ordinary loss of officers would admit of, the British again advanced, with an apparent resolution of forcing their way, whatever loss of lives it might cost them. The Americans again reserved their fire till the enemy arrived within five or six rods, when, discharging their pieces, which were admirably pointed, they threw the opposing ranks again into confusion. General Clinton, who, with General Gage, the commander-in-chief of the British forces in Bos- ton, was on Copp's Hill, observing the events of the day, when he perceived the disconcerted state of the troops, passed over and joined just in time to be of service. The united and strenuous efforts of the different officers were again successful, and the columns were advanced a third time to the attack, with a desperation increased by the unshaken oppo- sition they experienced. It is probable, from the nature of the resistance, that every effort to dislodge the Americans would have been ineffectual, had not their ammunition failed ; on sending for a supply, none could be procured, as there was but a barrel and a half in the magazine. This deficiency prevented them from making the same defence as before ; while the British enjoyed a further advantage, by bringing some cannon to bear so as to rake the inside of the breast- work from end to end, upon which the Americans were compelled to retreat within their redoubt. The British now made a decisive movement, covered by 88 REVOLUTIONARY "WAR. the fire of the ships, batteries, and field-artillery. The Americans disputed the possession of the works with the butt-ends of their muskets, until the redoubt, easily mounted and attacked on three sides at once, was taken, and their defences, the labour of only a few hours, had been prostrated by artillery. Whilst these operations were going on at the breastwork and redoubt, the British light infantry were engaged in attempting to force the left point of the former, through the space between that and the water, that they might take the American line in flank. The resistance they met with was as formidable and fatal in its effects as experienced in the other quarter ; for here also the Americans, by command, reserved their fire till the enemy's close approach, and then poured in a discharge so well directed, and with such exe- cution, that wide chasms were made in every rank. Some of the Americans were slightly guarded by the rail fences, but others were altogether exposed, so that their bravery in close combat was put to the test, independent of defences neither formed by military rules or workmen. The most determined assaults of their regular opponents, who were now brought to the charge with redoubled fury, could not, after all, compel them to retreat, till they observed that their main body had left the hill, when they retrograded, but with a regularity that could scarcely have been expected of troops newly embodied, and who in general never before saw an engagement. Over- powered by numbers, and seeing all hope of rein- forcement cut off by the incessant fire of the ships BATTLE OF BUNKER'S HILL. 89 across a neck of land that separated them from the country, they were compelled to quit the ground. The staunch opposition of this band of patriots saved their comrades, who must otherwise have been cut off, as the enemy, but for them, would have been in rear of the whole. While these brave heroes retired, disputing every inch of ground, and taking up every new position successively that admitted of de- fence, their leader, the gallant Warren, unfortunately received a ball through the right side of the skull, and mechanically clapping his hand to the wound, dropped down dead. The British, taught by the experience of this day to respect their rustic adversaries, contented them- selves with taking post at Bunker's Hill, which they fortified. The Americans, with the enthusiasm of men determined to be free, did the same upon Pros- pect Hill, a mile in front. It was here that General Putnam regaled the precious remains of his army, after their fatigues, with several hogsheads of beer. Owing to some unaccountable error, the working parties, who had been incessantly labouring the whole of the preceding night, were neither relieved nor supplied with refreshment, but left to engage under all these disadvantages. This battle was generally admitted, by experienced officers of the British army who witnessed it, and had served at Minden, Dettingen, and throughout the campaigns in Germany, to have been unparalleled for the time it lasted and the numbers engaged. There was a continued sheet of fire from the breastwork for near half an hour, and the action was hot for about 8* 90 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. double that period. In this short space of time, the loss of the British, according to General Gage, amounted to one thousand and fifty-four, of whom two hundred and twenty-six were killed ; of these nineteen were commissioned officers, including a lieutenant-colonel, two majors, and seven captains; seventy other officers were wounded. The battle of Quebec, in the former war, with all its glory, and the vastness of the consequences attending it, was not so disastrous in the loss of officers as this affair of an American intrenchment, the work of but a few hours. The fact was, the Americans, accustomed to aim with precision, and to select objects, directed their skill principally against the officers of the British army, justly conceiving that much confusion would ensue on their fall. Nearly all the officers around the person of General Howe were killed or disabled, and the general himself nar- rowly escaped. At the battle of Minden, where the British regiments sustained the force of the whole French army for a considerable time, the number of officers killed, including two who died soon after of their wounds, was only thirteen, and the wounded sixty-six ; the total loss of the army on that occasion was two hundred and ninety-one in killed, and one thousand and thirty-seven wounded. The British acknowledged the valour of their op- ponents, which, by no means new to them, surpassed on this occasion what could have been expected of a handful of cottagers, as they termed them, under officers of little military knowledge, and still less experience, whom they affected to hold in contempt. BATTLE OF BUNKER'S HILL. 91 They pretended to forget that many of the common soldiers who gained such laurels by their singular bravery on the Plains of Abraham, when Wolfe died in the arms of victory, were natives of the Massa- chusetts Bay. When Martinique was attacked in 1761, and the British force was greatly reduced by sickness and mortality, the timely arrival of the New England troops enabled the British commander to prosecute the reduction of the island to a happy issue. A part of the troops being sent on an expedition to the Havana, the New Englanders, whose health had been much impaired by service and the climate, were embarked in three ships for their native country, with a view to their recovery. Before they had com- pleted their voyage, they found themselves restored, ordered the ships about, steered immediately for the Havana, arrived when the British were too much weakened to expect success, and by their junction contributed materially to the surrender of the place. Their fidelity, activity, and good conduct, were such as to gain the approbation and unbounded confidence of the British officers. Of such elementary principles were the heroes of Bunker's Hill composed. It surely was a misguided policy to rouse the opposition of men made of these materials. A spot so fertile in great associations, could not but attract the special notice of President Monroe, during his tour to the eastward. It was precisely where Warren fell that his excellency met the citizens of Charlestown on the occasion, and addressed them as follows : " It is highly gratifying to me to meet the com- 92 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. mittee of Charlestown upon a theatre so interesting to the United States. It is impossible to approach Bunker's Hill, where the war of the revolution com- menced with so much honour to the nation, without being deeply affected. The blood spilt here roused the whole American people, and united them in a common cause, in defence of their rights. — That union will never be broken." Whether, indeed, we consider the action of the 17th of June in itself, or as the prelude to succeeding events, we must pronounce it to be the most glorious of our history, for the numbers engaged and the de- fences made use of. If we except that of New Orleans, no parallel is to be found to it, in the extent of impression produced upon the enemy. But there, time had been afforded for maturing the works, which were constructed under the superintendence of skilful engineers, and extended across a position that could not be outflanked. Twelve hours only were gained for those on Breed's Hill, formed, during a great part of the time, under a heavy fire from the enemy's ships, a number of float- ing batteries, beside fortifications which poured upon them an incessant shower of shot and shells, and left incomplete, owing to the intolerable cannonade. We shall close this account with an extract from General Wilkinson's Memoirs, vol. 1. "In the temper of the colonists, the deliberate attack on the provincials at Breed's Hill, the 17th of June, 1775, under the orders of General Gage, be- came the signal for a general appeal to arms. These, indeed, were times which tried men's souls, but they BATTLE OF BUNKER'S HILL. 93 have passed away, and may they never be forgotten. The personal services and sufferings of those days, ought ever to obtain that consideration which the blessings of liberty and independence secured should inspire. " On the evacuation of Boston by the enemy, I accompanied Colonels Stark and Reed to take a view of Bunker's Hill, — that memorable theatre of action, where the sword dissevered the ties of consanguinity, and cut asunder the social bonds that united the American colonies to the parent state. "Arrived on the field of battle, where those officers had performed conspicuous parts, with anx- ious inquiry I traced the general disposition of our yeomanry on that eventful day, and the particular station of each corps ; I marked the vestiges of the post and rail fence on the left, and the breastwork thrown up on the beach of Mystic river, which covered our armed citizens. I paced the distance to the point from whence the British light infantry, after three successive gallant charges, were finally repulsed. I examined the redoubt, the intrenchment, the land- ings and approaches of the enemy, and every point of attack and defence. Resting on the parapet, where nine months before ' valour's self might have stood appalled,' I surveyed the whole ground at a glance, and eagerly devoured the information im- parted by my brave companions. "With a throbbing breast I stepped from this ground of unequal conflict, where American farmers, contending for the rights of nature, for their wives and children, and posterity unborn, bared their 94 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. bosoms to the bayonets of veteran mercenaries — where victory so long balanced between native courage and disciplined bravery, between freemen who contended for liberty, and the armed ruffian who fights for bread ; and following my leaders, we traversed the ruins of Charlestown, lately the abode of thousands animated by the buzz of active industry and social happiness, now buried in its own ashes. " The resolution displayed by the provincials on this memorable day, produced effects auspicious to the American cause, and co-extensive with the war ; for, although compelled by superior numbers to yield the ground, the obstinacy of their resistance put an end to that confidence with which they had been first attacked, and produced measures of caution bordering on timidity. There can be no doubt that we were indebted to these causes for the unmolested occu- pancy of our position before Boston, which, to com- plete the investment, was necessarily extended from Roxbury on the right, to Mystic river on the left, a rectilinear distance of about four miles. " To the cool courage and obstinacy displayed on the occasion, and the moral influence of the bloody lesson which Sir William Howe received on that day, we must ascribe the military phenomenon of a motley band of undisciplined American yeomanry, scarcely superior in number, holding an army of British veterans in close siege for nine months ; and hence it might fairly be inferred, that our inde- pendence was essentially promoted by the conse- quences of this single battle." Ruius of Ticonderoga. CAPTURE OF TICONDEROGA. HE necessity of se- curing Ticonderoga was early attended to by many in New England; but some Connecticut gentle- men were first in attempting the mea- sure. Secrecy was essential to success ; and delay might be dangerous. There was no waiting to consult 96 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. the Continental Congress ; beside, it would not have been safe to have communicated the scheme to that body, as it was known there would be individuals in it on whose fidelity the Americans could not rely. Messrs. Deane, Wooster, Parsons, and others un- dertook the affair. They applied to the assembly for a loan, which was furnished, to the amount of about eighteen hundred dollars, on which they gave bonds to be accountable. General Gage had set the example of attempting to seize upon military stores, and by so doing had commenced hostilities ; so that retaliation appeared more than warrantable, even an act of self- defence. The expedition went on with rapidity. Several militia captains pushed forward to Salisbury to ac- quaint Messrs. Blagdens with the design, and to pro- cure their assistance. One was ill, the other joined in the proposed manoeuvre. After a little deliberation, they concluded upon spending no time in obtaining men; but, having provided a sufficient quantity of powder and ball, set off on horseback for Bennington to engage Colonel Allen. They conferred with him upon their arrival ; and then remained with others to bake bread, and prepare other necessaries, while the colonel went on to raise the men who were wanting, and who were to meet the managers at Castleton. While these were on their way to the place of ren- dezvous, they were met by a countryman, apparently an undesigning honest traveller, but who was either himself well-skilled and a principal, or had been well- tutored by some one or other, that had either suspect- ed or gained knowledge of the expedition, and meant CAPTURE OF TICONDEROGA. 97 to render it abortive. They addressed him, " From whence came you ?" " From Ty ; left it yesterday," at such an hour. "Has the garrison received any reinforcement ? " " Yes ; I saw them ; there were a number of artillery men and other soldiers." " What are they doing ? Are they making fascines ?" " Don't know what fascines are. They are tying up sticks and brush in bundles, and putting them where the walls are down." Mr. Samuel Blagden put many ensnaring questions about the dress and trimmings of the men, &c. The answers tended to confirm the man's story. The company was staggered ; and it being debated in council, whether they should not return, as they had no cannon, it was determined by a majority of one only to proceed. At Castleton they met Colonel Allen with his men, and altogether made two hundred and seventy persons ; two hundred and thirty of them were Green Mountain boys, so called from their residing within the limits of the Green Mountains, as the Hampshire grants are denominated, from the range of green mountains that runs through them. They are a brave hardy gen- eration, chiefly settlers from New Hampshire, Massa- chusetts, and Connecticut. Sentries were placed im- mediately on all the roads, to prevent any intelligence being carried to Ticonderoga. After the junction at Castleton, Colonel Arnold ar- rived, with only a single servant. The day after his getting to Cambridge with his volunteer company, he attended on the Massachusetts committee of safety, and reported that there were at Ticonderoga, eighty pieces of heavy cannon, twenty of brass from four to 9 G 98 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. eighteen-pounders, ten or a dozen mortars, a number of small arms, and considerable stores ; and that the fort was in a ruinous condition, and as he supposed garrisoned by about forty men. Upon this the com- mittee, on the 3d of May, appointed him a colonel of four hundred men, whom he was to enlist and march for the reduction of Ticonderoga. The colonel was known only to Mr. Blagden. A council was called ; his powers were examined ; and at length it was agreed, that he should be admitted to join and act with them, that so the public might be benefited. It was settled, however, that Colonel Allen should have the supreme command, and Colonel Arnold was to be his assistant ; with which the latter appeared satisfied, as he had no right by his commission, either to command or interfere with the others, who were not only out of the Mas- sachusetts line, but the subjects of another colony. The names of the leaders, besides what have been mentioned, were Messrs. Motte, Phelps, (two brothers) Bigelow, Bull, and Nichols, beside Colonels Easton, Brown, and Warner, and Captain Dickinson. After it had been determined in a council to set off the next morning early for "Ty," and some of the man- agers had retired, a second council was held, and it was concluded to proceed that very night, leaving Messrs. Blagden, Bigelow, and Nichols, with a party of men, thirty in all, officers included, to march early in the morning for Skeensborough, and secure Major Skeen, his negroes and tenants. This council might have been occasioned by the return of Captain Noah Phelps, who the day before, having disguised himself, entered the fort in the character of a countryman CAPTURE OF TICONDEROGA. 101 wanting to be shaved. In hunting for a barber, he observed everything critically, asked a number of rustic questions, affected great ignorance, and passed unsuspected. Before night he withdrew, came and joined his party, and in the morning guided them to the place of destination. Colonel Allen, with his two hundred and thirty Green Mountain boys, arrived at Lake Champlain, and opposite to Ticonderoga, on the 9th, at night. Boats were procured, with difficulty, when he and Colonel Arnold crossed over with eighty-three men, and landed near the garrison. Here a dispute took place between the colonels ; the latter became assuming, and swore he would go in first; the other swore he should not. The gentlemen present interposed, and the matter was accommodated, upon the footing that both should go in together. They advanced alongside of each other, Colonel Allen on the right hand of Colonel Arnold, and entered the port leading to the fort, in the gray of the morning, (May 10.) A sentry snapped his fusee at Colonel Allen, and then retreated through the covered way to the parade ; the main body of Americans followed, and immediately drew up. Captain De la Place, the commander, was sur- prised abed in his room. He was ordered to give up the fort ; upon his asking by what authority, Colonel Allen replied, " I demand it in the name of the great Jehovah, and the Continental Congress." The Con- gress knew nothing of the matter, and did not com- mence their existence till some hours after. When they began their session, they chose the Honourable Peyton Randolph president, and Mr. Charles Thom- 9* 102 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. son secretary, each with a unanimous voice; and having agreed " That the Reverend Mr. Duche be requested to open the Congress with prayers to- morrow morning," and appointed a committee to acquaint him with their request, adjourned till the next day. Had Captain De la Place been upon the parade with his men, he could have made no effectual resistance. The fort was out of repair, and he had but about thirty effectives. Could he have gained timely intelligence, he might have procured a re- inforcement from St. John's. After Colonel Allen had landed, the boats were sent back for the remainder of the men under Colonel Seth Warren ; but the place was surprised before he could get over- Immediately upon his joining the successful party, he was sent off to take possession of Crown Point, where a sergeant and twelve men performed garrison duty ; but the greatest acquisition was that of more than a hundred pieces of cannon. The complete command of Lake Cham- plain was of high importance to the Americans, and could not be effected without their getting possession of a sloop-of-war lying at St. John's, at the foot of the lake. It was determined to man and arm a schooner lying at South Bay, and that Colonel Arnold should command her ; and that Colonel Allen should command the batteaux, a name generally affixed to boats of a particular construction, calculated for navigating the lakes and rivers, and drawing but little water, though heavily laden. The wind being fresh from the south, the schooner outsailed the batteaux, and Colonel Arnold surprised the sloop. The wind CAPTURE OF TICONDEROGA. 103 shifting suddenly to the north, and blowing fresh, in about an hour's time Colonel Arnold sailed with the prize and schooner for Ticonderoga, and met Colonel Allen with his party. The surprise of Skeensborough was so conducted that the negroes were all secured, and Major Skeen, the son, taken while out shooting, and his strong stone house possessed, and the pass completely gained, without any bloodshed, the same as at Ticon- deroga. Had the major received the least intimation, the attempt must have miscarried ; for he had about fifty tenants near at hand, besides eight negroes and twelve workmen. Colonel Allen soon left Ticonderoga under the command of Colonel Arnold, with a number of men, who agreed to remain in garrison. When the news of Ticonderoga's being taken reached the Continental Congress, they earnestly recommended it to the committees of the cities and counties of New York and Albany, immediately to cause the cannon and stores to be removed from thence to the south end of Lake George; but that an exact inventory should be taken of them, "in order that they may be safely returned, when the restoration of the former harmony between Great Britain and these colonies, so ardently wished for by the latter, shall render it prudent, and consistent with the overruling law of self-preservation." Whatever may have been the drift of a few in Congress, that body wished to keep the door open for an accommodation. This was apparent in the advice they gave the New Yorkers, three days before the preceding recommen- 104 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. dation. The city and county of New York applied to them for information how to conduct towards the troops expected there. The Congress resolved, " That it be recommended, for the present, to the inhabitants of New York, that if the troops which are expected should arrive, the said colony act on the defensive, so long as may be consistent with their safety and security ; that the troops be permitted to remain in the barracks, so long as they behave peaceably and quietly, but that they be not suffered to erect fortifi- cations, or take any steps for cutting off the commu- nication between the town and country ; and that if they commit hostilities or invade private property, the inhabitants should defend themselves and their property, and repel force by force ; that the warlike stores be removed from the town; that places of retreat, in case of necessity, be provided for the women and children of New York ; and that a suf- ficient number of men be embodied, and kept in constant readiness for protecting the inhabitants from insult and injury." Washington. SECOND CONTINENTAL CONGRESS -WASHING- TON'S APPOINTMENT. ^y-^EANTIME Congress, having ^J met on the 10th of May, re- ceived a report of these trans- actions, which called for their most earnest consideration. Some, it is said, were unprepared for so serious a result; but the general resolution was to follow it up, and place all the colonies in a pos- ture of military defence. Still, before adopting any active measures, they determined, though with some dissentient voices, to make fresh appeals to the king and people of Great Britain. To his majesty they professed as strongly as ever their devotion to his person, family, and government ; their deep regret at any event which could weaken their connexion with 108 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. his crown, and their ardent desire for the restoration of harmony. To the people they strenuously repelled the charge of aiming at independence, which none of their actions were said to justify. They had never made overtures to any foreign power, nor availed themselves of the weak state of the cities, to become masters of them. The late hostilities had been merely the repulse of a wanton attack; they had lamented the wounds they were obliged to give, and had not yet learned to rejoice at a victory over Englishmen. The armies were said to be raised with objects purely defensive, and the fortresses seized merely as a preventive against invasion from Canada. Complaining, however, that the clemency of their sovereign was diverted, that their petitions were treated with indignity, and that their prayers were answered by insults; they dreaded that the nation wanted either the will or the power to assist them. In that case, they expressed a firm determination that, " while we revere the memory of our gallant and virtuous ancestors, we never can surrender those glorious privileges for which they fought, bled, and conquered ; — your fleets and armies can destroy our towns and ravage our coasts ; these are inconsiderable objects, — things of no moment to men whose bosoms glow with the ardour of liberty. We can retire beyond the reach of your navy, and, without any sensible diminution of the necessaries of life, enjoy a luxury, which from that period you will want, — the luxury of bein£ free." Having emitted these declarations, Congress pro- ceeded to make military arrangements which should APPOINTMENT OF WASHINGTON. 109 comprehend the whole range of the colonies. All the troops within their limits were to be now called the Continental Army; committees were appointed to devise ways and means for supporting and supplying it with arms and stores, and preparing regulations for its government. An issue of paper-money was voted to the amount of three millions of dollars. The first object was considered to be the choice of a command- er, and in this respect they were singularly fortunate. There had at this time sprung up among them an un- common number of men of distinguished abilities ; and though some were in this respect superior to him, it was generally agreed that the fittest person was George Washington. Without very brilliant talents, or even very extensive information, he possessed sound sense, comprehensive views, a deep and devoted patriotism. These had been displayed in a manner so firm, simple, and manly, as rendered it impossible even to entertain a doubt of the thorough dependence which might be placed on his fidelity to the cause. A bold and enterprising spirit was tempered with a feeling of actual difficulties, sometimes even extreme, which prevented it from degenerating into rashness. His steady honour and humanity softened the horrors of a contest, which among the lower class of states- men excited the most imbittered feelings. Appre- hensions were entertained that Massachusetts, in virtue of her great exertions, would claim the nomi- nation ; but Mr. Adams, her leading deputy, was the first to propose the Virginian, and the recommen- dation, being submitted to ballot, was unanimously approved. Next day the choice was announced to 10 110 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. him, when, in a plain, modest reply, he expressed his high sense of the honour, not concealing the pain which arose from a consciousness that his abilities and military experience might not be equal to so mighty a trust. Yet he assured them he would enter on the momentous duty, and exert every power he possessed in so great a cause. Five hundred dollars monthly had been voted for his pay and expenses ; but being possessed of an ample fortune, he declined anything beyond the reimbursement of his actual outlay. SIEGE OF BOSTON. rPHE colonists had thus expe- rienced an almost uninter- rupted career of success, and, with the exception of Boston, England had not a spot left in the whole range of their territory. Yet reflecting men easily saw, that they had prevailed only against an advanced guard and scattered detachments, and that the struggle had not yet commenced with the main force of the British empire. Washington, meantime, on proceeding to the army, was received in the most cordial manner, and without the smallest symptom of jealousy ; the provincial congress sending a committee to meet him at Springfield on the frontier, and escort him to Boston. He there found fourteen thousand five hundred men, able-bodied, 10* H 114 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. zealous in the cause, and personally courageous, but destitute of almost every element of military organi- zation. A great proportion wanted bayonets, and the alarming discovery was soon made that they had not above nine rounds of gunpowder. There were no tents, and clothes extremely deficient ; there was neither commissary nor quartermaster-general. No combination existed between the troops drawn from different colonies ; and the officers, mostly chosen by the men, could exercise scarcely any authority. These evils were the more difficult to remedy, as the army, enlisted only for a short period, would disband in a few months, and be replaced by one composed of raw recruits. In these circumstances, Washington anxiously desired to make an attack upon Boston, and dislodge the troops before the large expected reinforcements should arrive, when the prospects could not but be- come gloomy. Yet a council of officers decided, seemingly on good grounds, that such an attempt could have no chance of success ; and he was obliged, very reluctantly, to await the turn which events might take. In the meantime, Washington laboured under accu- mulated difficulties in prosecuting the blockade of Boston. The scarcity of ammunition, notwithstanding every effort of Congress, continued almost unabated; while the want of money, as well as of necessary equipments, was deeply felt on the advance of the rigorous season. With all his energy and firmness, he seems to have been exceedingly sensitive to troubles and opposition. He describes his situation as inexpressibly distressing, — the winter approaching SIEGE OF BOSTON. 115 on an army at once naked and without a dollar ; and declares that unless some remedy were devised, the force must be broken up. Amid all these distresses, it was necessary to keep up a good face towards the enemy, while many on his own side, exaggerating both the numbers and efficiency of his troops, wondered he should remain inactive, and not have already driven the English out of Boston. These criticisms touched him sensibly ; yet, as a true patriot, he care- fully concealed the explanation, which, reaching the opposite party, would have produced fatal effects. Even Congress, with a jealousy of military power, in his case very unjust, were indisposed to measures most requisite for the success of his army. As none of any importance could be taken without their con- currence, as well as that of the provincial assemblies, they were always delayed, and often obstructed. An imminent danger now impended ; December approached, when the troops, having been enlisted for only one year, were all entitled to return home. To this subject the commander earnestly solicited the attention of Congress, and on the 18th of October a committee of their number, Franklin, Lynch, and Harrison, arrived at his head-quarters. Being per- sons of judgment, they arranged matters very satis- factorily. Authority was given to levy twenty-six regiments, estimated at somewhat above twenty thousand men, independently of militia. Congress would not consent, however, to the enlistment for more than a year, nor would they, till the next January, agree to grant a bounty. Washington made the strongest appeals to the men, entreating them by 116 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. every motive of honour and patriotism to adhere to those standards under which they had gloriously fought. But that ardent impulse which had called them to arms w r as now sensibly cooled ; and when the time arrived, not above five thousand had engaged. These were afterwards reinforced ; but this disso- lution of one army and assemblage of another, in the face of an enemy whose force was constantly in- creasing, placed the commander in a very critical situation. He was also harassed from another quarter. The English in Boston, being straitened for provisions, sought to procure them by descents on different parts of the coast, treating the inhabitants, who were uni- formly hostile, with very little ceremony. Falmouth suffered such a severe cannonade and bombardment as to reduce it to ashes, and it was reported or dreaded that a similar fate impended over the other seaports. Urgent applications were made to the commander-in-chief for aid ; but he represented that his army was barely adequate to blockade Boston, and could not be broken down into detachments for local objects, which ought to be provided for by the militia of the districts. His views were sanctioned by Congress. He endeavoured, however, to protect the shore by forming a small marine, placing troops on board the vessels; and in a few weeks six schooners were fitted out. They were fortunate enough soon to capture a ship laden with military stores, most valuable for the supply of the army. In other respects this force was for some time inefficient, and its dis- cipline very imperfect ; but it was gradually improved; SIEGE OF BOSTON. 117 prize courts and regulations were formed, and its privateering operations proved ultimately very harass- ing to the British. Meantime, General Gage remained inactive at Boston; a course generally condemned by historians as at Once unaccountable and shameful. Yet, besides being by no means fully aware of Washington's weakness, he assigned other reasons which appear conclusive. Though he might have dislodged the Americans from their position, little would have been gained by marching into the interior of New England, a territory full of people animated with peculiar zeal in the cause of independence, and which, though containing many small towns, offered no central or leading point of attack. He must merely have moved from place to place, continually harassed by that desultory warfare in which they had shown themselves to excel. In the beginning of October he was recalled, without any expression of displeasure, yet probably under the impression of the disasters which the cause had sustained in his hands, and the hope that it might be more fortunate in those of another. The command then devolved upon Howe, who concurred with his predecessor as to the inex- pediency of advancing into the interior of New England. He submitted to the cabinet another plan, by which Boston should be held only till the close of the winter, and the troops there, with all those ex- pected from the mother country, be then concentrated at New York, and the main attack made from that quarter. The inhabitants were more loyal, and by striking at the heart of the Union he would separate 118 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. the northern and southern states, and then, according to circumstances, carry on operations against either. Washington, meantime, was very slowly recruiting his army, which, at the beginning of February, did not reach quite nine thousand men. Being at that period permitted to offer a bounty, he had in a month collected above fourteen thousand, reinforced by six thousand Massachusetts militia. He considered this force sufficient to attack the city ; but a council of officers decided, probably with reason, that such an attempt offered no chance of success. They pro- posed rather to seize and fortify the peninsular point named Dorchester Neck, whence the harbour would be in a great degree commanded, and the place, it was hoped, rendered untenable. To this he con- sented, though with great chagrin ; and the exe- cution of the movement was intrusted to General Ward. The British were amused two days by an incessant cannonade and bombardment, — till at night- fall of the 4th of March, General Thomas, with a working body of twelve hundred, a covering force of eight hundred, and three hundred carts of materials, marched undiscovered, and took possession of the most elevated part of the heights. The Americans, being chiefly practical farmers, were extremely skilful in intrenching, and laboured with such diligence, that in the morning the English with astonishment beheld them in a strongly fortified position. The admiral then gave notice to Howe, that the harbour could not be deemed secure as long as this post was held by the Americans. Lord Percy, with three thousand men, was employed to dislodge them j but a violent storm SIEGE OF BOSTON. 119 rendered the operation impossible, and before it dis- persed the works were considered beyond the reach of assault. Washington had prepared a select corps to attack the town, while its main force should be directed against the heights ; but this project, never very feasible, was now of course given up. The British commander then prepared to evacuate the place. On the 17th the enemy embarked in their ships, and after remaining a few days in Nantasket roads, sailed towards Halifax. General Putnam immedi- ately entered Boston, which was found strongly fortified, and quite uninjured. Washington enter- tained great apprehension that the city would be destroyed, though the English seem never to have entertained any such idea; and some cannon and stores, which could not be carried away, became available to him. INCIDENTS AT THE EVACUATION OF BOSTON. HE circumstances which led to the evacuation of Boston, and a lively description of that joyous event, are given as follows by Dr. Thacher, one of the surgeons of Gene- ral Washington's army, in his Military Journal of the Revolutionary War. March 4th. — The object in view is now generally understood to be the occupying and fortifying the ad- vantageous heights of Dorchester. A detachment of our troops is ordered to march for this purpose this evening ; and our regiment, with several others, has ~=$v£? t£T) at -^ r T&S^i -^ * EVACUATION OF BOSTON. 123 received orders to march at four 'clock in the morn- ing, to relieve them. We are favoured with a full bright moon, and the night is remarkably mild and pleasant; the preparations are immense; more than three hundred loaded carts are in motion. By the great exertions of General Mifflin, our quartermaster- general, the requisite number of teams has been pro- cured. The covering party of eight hundred men advance in front. Then follow the carts with the intrenching tools ; after which, the working party of twelve hundred, commanded by General Thomas, of Kingston. Next in the martial procession are a train of carts, loaded with fascines and hay, screwed into large bundles of seven or eight hundred weight. The whole procession moves on in solemn silence, and with perfect order and regularity ; while the continued roar of cannon serves to engage the attention and divert the enemy from the main object. 5th. — At about four o'clock our regiment followed to the heights of Dorchester as a relief party. On passing Dorchester Neck I observed a vast number of large bundles of screwed hay, arranged in a line next the enemy, to protect our troops from a raking fire, to which we should have been greatly exposed, while passing and repassing. The carts were still in motion with materials; some of them have made three or four trips. On the heights we found two forts in considerable forwardness, and sufficient for a defence against small arms and grape-shot. The amount of labour performed during the night, considering the earth is frozen eighteen inches deep, is almost incredible. The enemy having discovered our works 124 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. in the morning, commenced a tremendous cannonade from the forts in Boston, and from their shipping in the harbour. Cannon-shot are continually rolling and rebounding over the hill ; and it is astonishing to ob- serve how little our soldiers are terrified by them. During the forenoon we were in momentary expecta- tion of witnessing an awful scene ; nothing less than the carnage of Breed's hill battle was expected. The royal troops are perceived to be in motion, as if embark- ing to pass the harbour, and land on Dorchester shore, to attack our works. The hills and elevations in this vicinity are covered with spectators to witness deeds of horror in the expected conflict. His excellency General Washington is present, animating and en- couraging the soldiers, and they in return manifest their joy, and express a warm desire for the approach of the enemy; each man knows his place, and is reso- lute to execute his duty. Our breastworks are strengthened, and among the means of defence are a great number of barrels, filled with stones and sand, arranged in front of our works ; which are to be put in motion and made to roll down the hill, to break the ranks and legs of the assailants as they advance. These are the preparations for blood and slaugh- ter ! Gracious God ! if it be determined in thy provi- dence that thousands of our fellow-creatures shall this day be slain, let thy wrath be appeased, and in mercy grant, that victory be on the side of our suffering, bleeding country. The anxious day has closed ; and the enemy has failed to molest us. From appear- ances, however, there are strong reasons to suppose that they have only postponed their meditated work EVACUATION OF BOSTON. 125 till another day. It is presumed that the martial fire, which has been enkindled in the breasts of our sol- diery, will not be extinguished during the night, and that they will not rest quietly under their disappoint- ment. Early in the morning of the 6th, our regiment was relieved from its tour of duty, and I bade adieu to Dorchester Heights, without being called to dress a single wound. Not more than two or three men were killed or wounded during the twenty-four hours. Some of the British troops were seen to embark, and pass down towards the Castle last evening, to be in readiness, as was supposed, in conjunction with others to attack our works this morning ; but a most violent storm came on in the night, and still continuing, obliges General Howe to abandon his enterprise, and thus has a kind Providence seen fit to frustrate a design, which must have been attended with immense slaughter and blood- shed. General Howe must now be sensible of his exposed situation, and be convinced of the immediate necessity of evacuating the town of Boston, if he would prevent the sacrifice of his fleet and army. 7th. — There are strong indications in Boston that the king's troops are preparing to evacuate the town ; and that no attempt will be made to dispossess our people of the works, which we have constructed on Dorchester Heights. 8^. — A flag of truce has come out of Boston with a message from the selectmen, acquainting General Washington that General Howe has come to the de- termination to evacuate the town, and that he would leave it standing, provided his army should be permit- ted to retire without being molested. At the same 11* 126 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. time intimating, as is reported, that in case he should be attacked by our army, the town should be set on fire in different places, in order to secure his retreat. We are unacquainted with the determination of his excellency respecting this proposition; but it is well known that he has been in favour of making an attack on the town; and that the necessary preparations were made, and the plan arranged, to be put in execu- tion, in the event of the enemy's meditated attack on our works at Dorchester Heights. Four thousand troops, the first division commanded by General Sulli- van, the second by General Greene, were ordered to be in readiness, in case the enemy had advanced and been defeated on the heights of Dorchester ; this force, at a given signal, was to have rushed into the town and taken possession. It is credibly reported from Boston, that on the morning when the British officers discovered our newly erected works, which, on account of a fog, loomed to great advantage, and appeared larger than the real- ity, General Howe, on viewing them, was heard to say in astonishment, " I know not what I shall do ; the rebels have done more in one night than my whole army would have done in weeks." His admiral soon assured him that if the rebels were permitted to hold possession, he should not be able to keep a single ship in the harbour in safety. Nothing of consequence occurred to observation till Sunday morning, March 17th, when at an early hour it was perceived that the royal army commenced their embarkation on board of transports. In the course of the forenoon we enjoyed the unspeakable EVACUATION OF BOSTON. 127 satisfaction of beholding their whole fleet under sail, wafting from our shores the dreadful scourge of war. It was in the power of the provincials by a cannonade to have annoyed the enemy's shipping and transports, as they passed Dorchester Heights, and to have oc- casioned great embarrassment and destruction among them ; but no orders were given for this purpose, and they were suffered to pass unmolested. By this event we are happily relieved of a force consisting of seven thousand five hundred and seventy-five regulars, ex- clusive of the staff, which, with the marines and sailors, may be estimated at about ten thousand in the whole. This force greatly exceeds the five regi- ments, with which General Grant vauntingly boasted in England that he could march successfully from one end of the American continent to the other. A con- siderable number of tories, who had joined the royal standard, took passage with their families on board of the transports with the army, and bade adieu to their native country, without knowing what part of the world is to be their destiny. Immediately after the enemy sailed from Boston harbour, General Washington ordered the major part of his army to march to New York, to secure that city against the apprehended invasion of General Howe. It was not till Wednesday, the 20th, that our troops were permitted to enter the town, when our regiment, with two or three others, were ordered to march in and take up our quarters, which were provided for us in comfortable houses. While march- ing through the streets, the inhabitants appeared at their doors and windows ; though they manifested a 128 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. lively joy on being liberated from a long imprison- ment, they were not altogether free from a melancholy gloom which ten tedious months' siege had spread over their countenances. The streets and buildings present a scene which reflects disgrace on their late occupants, exhibiting a deplorable desolation and wretchedness. Boston, March 22d. — A concourse of people from the country are crowding into town, full of friendly solicitude; and it is truly interesting to witness the tender interviews and fond embraces of those who have been long separated, under circumstances so peculiarly distressing. But it is particularly unfortu- nate on this occasion, that the small-pox is lurking in various parts of the town, which deters many from enjoying an interview with their friends. The pa- rents and sister of my friend Dr. Townsend have continued in town during the siege ; being introduced to the family by the doctor, I received a kind and polite invitation to take up my abode with them, where I am enjoying the kindest attentions and civilities. I accompanied several gentlemen to view the British fortifications on Roxbury Neck, where I observed a prodigious number of little military en- gines, called caltrops, or crow-feet, scattered over the ground in the vicinity of the works, to impede the march of our troops in case of an attack. The implement consists of an iron ball, armed with four sharp points about one inch in length, so formed that which way soever it may fall, one point lies upwards to pierce the feet of horses or men, and are admirably well calculated to obstruct the march of an enemy. EVACUATION OF BOSTON. 129 23c?. — I went to view the Old South Church, a spacious brick building near the centre of the town. It has been for more than a century consecrated to the service of religion, and many eminent divines have in its pulpit laboured in teaching the ways of righteousness and truth. But during the late siege, the inside of it was entirely destroyed by the British, and the sacred building occupied as a riding-school by Burgoyne's regiment of dragoons. The pulpit and pews were removed, the floor covered with earth, and used for the purpose of training and exercising their horses. A beautiful pew, ornamented with carved work and silk furniture, was demolished ; and by order of an officer, the carved work, it is said, was used as a fence for a hog-sty. The North Church, a very valuable building, was entirely demolished, and consumed for fuel. Thus are our houses, devoted to religious worship, profaned and destroyed by the subjects of his Royal Majesty. His excellency the commander-in-chief has been received by the inhabi- tants with every mark of respect and gratitude, and a public dinner has been provided for him. He re- quested the Rev. Dr. Eliot, at the renewal of his customary Thursday lecture, to preach a thanks- giving sermon, adapted to the joyful occasion. Ac- cordingly, on the 28th, this pious divine preached an appropriate discourse from Isaiah xxxiii. 20, in pre- sence of his excellency and a respectable audience. I.J., BURNING OF FALMOUTH. ONGRESS having intimated to General Washington that an attack upon Boston was much desired, a council of war was called (October 18), but unanimously agreed that it was not expedient, at least for the present. On the same day Captain Mowat destroyed a hundred and thirty-nine houses, and two hundred and seventy-eight stores and other buildings, the far greatest and best part of the town of Falmouth, (now Portland, Maine), in the northern part of Massachusetts. The inhabitants, in compliance with a resolve of the provincial congress to prevent tories carrying out their effects, gave some violent ob- struction to the loading of a mast-ship, which drew upon them the indignation of the admiral. BURNING OF FALMOUTH. 133 Captain Mowat was despatched in the Canceaux of sixteen guns, with an armed large ship, schooner and sloop. After anchoring toward the evening of the 17th within gun-shot, he sent a letter on shore, giv- ing them two hours for the removal of their families, as he had orders to fire the town, they having been guilty of the most unpardonable rebellion. A com- mittee of three gentlemen went on board, to learn the particular reasons for such orders. He answered, that his orders were to set on fire all the seaports between Boston and Halifax ; but agreed to spare the town till nine o'clock the next morning, would they consent to send him off eight small arms, which was immediately done. The next morning the committee applied afresh ; he concluded to spare the town till he could hear from the admiral, in case they would send him off four car- riage guns, deliver up all their arms, ammunition, &c. and four gentlemen of the town as hostages. That not being complied with, about half-past nine he began to fire from the four armed vessels, and continued it till after dark. With shells and carcasses, and about thirty marines whom he landed, he set the town on fire in several places. About a hundred of the worst houses escaped destruction, but suffered damage. The inhabitants got out a very considerable part of their furniture, and had not a person killed or wounded, though the vessels fired into the town about three thousand shot, beside bombs and carcasses. , General Lee reprobates their cowardice, in admit- ting such a paltry party to land with impunity, and set their town in flames, when they had at least two hundred fighting men, and powder enough for a battle. 12 134 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. In the private letter wherein he expressed these sen- timents, he made no mention of the sailors being re- pulsed with the loss of a few men ; though this might happen in the close of the day, and give occasion for its being related by others. The burning of Falmouth spread an alarm upon the sea-coast, but produced no disposition to submit to the power and mercy of the armed British agents. The people in common chose rather to abandon the seaports that could not be defended, than quit their country's cause ; and there- fore removed back, with their effects, to a safe distance. Arnold. ARNOLD'S EXPEDITION TO QUEBEC. ASHINGTON having obtained pleasing accounts from Canada, being assured that neither Indians nor Canadians could be prevailed ' upon to act against the Ameri- cans, and knowing there was a design of penetrating into that province by Lake Champlain, concerted the plan of detaching a body of troops from head-quarters, through the province of Maine, across the coun- try to Quebec. He communicated the same to General Schuyler, who approving it, all things were got in readiness. The corps was to be commanded by Colonel Arnold, aided by Colonels Christopher 136 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. Green and Roger Enos, and Majors Meigs and Bigelow, and was to consist of ten companies of mus- ketmen and three companies of riflemen, amounting to eleven hundred. In the evening of September 13th, 1775, the de- tachment marched from Cambridge for Nevvburyport, where, six days after, they embarked on board ten transports bound to Kennebec, fifty leagues distant. They entered the mouth of the Kennebec in the morn- ing, and, favoured with the wind and tide, proceeded up to Gardner's town. It was only fourteen days from first giving orders for building two hundred batteaux, for collecting provisions, and for draughting the eleven hundred men, to their reaching this place. — Such was the despatch ! On the 22d of September the troops embarked on board the batteaux, and proceeded to Fort Western on the east side of the river. From thence, Captain Morgan, with three companies of riflemen, was sent forward by water, with orders to get on to the great carrying-place in the most expeditious manner, and to clear the road, while the other divisions came up. The second division embarked the next day, and the third the day after. As they advanced up the river the stream grew very rapid, and the bottom and shores were rocky. (Sept. 29.) By eleven in the morning, Major Meigs, with the third division, arrived at Fort Halifax, standing on a point of land between the rivers Kenne- bec and Sebasticook. In their progress up the river, ey met with two carrying-places, over which they were obliged to carry their batteaux, baggage, and every other article, till they came again to a part of EXPEDITION TO QUEBEC. 137 the river which was navigable, and no longer obstruct- ed by water-falls, rapids, rocks or other incumbrances, as was that which they avoided. (October 3.) They got to Norridgewock, where the major's curiosity was entertained by the sight of a child fourteen months old, the first white one born in the place. After crossing over more carrying-places, he and his men encamped at the great carrying-place, (October 10,) which was twelve miles and a half across, including three ponds that they were obliged to pass. These ponds had plenty of trout. Two days after Colonel Enos arrived at the same place with the fourth division of the army, consisting of three companies of musket-men. Colonel Arnold meeting with an Indian, wrote to General Schuyler, and enclosed his letter to a friend in Quebec. Though he had no knowledge of the Indian, he ven- turously intrusted the packet with him, to be carried and delivered according to order. This strange con- fidence might have ruined his expedition, beside involving his friend in great trouble. (October 15.) The provision was so reduced, that the men were put to allowance, three-quarters of a pound of pork and three-quarters of a pound of flour a day for each. The next day they reached Dead river. Colonel Enos having got up with his division in about three days, was ordered to send back the sick, and those that could not be furnished with provision ; but, contrary to Colonel Arnold's expectation, re- turned to Cambridge with his whole division a few days after. Major Meigs received orders to push on with his division (October 19) for Chaudiere Head, with the greatest expedition. But they proceeded 12* 138 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. very slowly, by reason of falls, carrying-places, and bad weather. Their course was only three miles. (October 22.) The rains made the river rise the preceding night in some parts eight feet perpen- dicular ; and in many places it overflowed its banks, and rendered it very difficult for the men on shore to march. The next day the stream was so rapid, that, in passing it, five or six batteaux filled and overset, by which they lost several barrels of provisions, a number of guns, clothes, and other articles. Such was the rapidity of the stream, and interruptions by carrying-places, that it was with much fatigue they got on twenty-one miles within the three following days. To their great satisfaction they reached the carrying- place, (October 27,) which lies across the height of land that runs through the colonies to Georgia, and on the further side of which the streams run the reverse of the river they had ascended. They crossed the heights to Chaudiere river, and continued their march by land to Quebec. (November 1.) The marching through the woods was extremely bad. Major Meigs passed a number of soldiers who had no provisions, and some of whom were sick. It was not in his power to help or relieve them. But one or two dogs w r ere killed, which the distressed soldiers ate with a relishing appetite, without sparing either feet or skin. A few ate their cartouch-boxes, breeches, and shoes, being several days without pro- vision. The major and his men marched on upon the banks of the Chaudiere, (November 3,) and at twelve o'clock met with supplies, to the inexpressible joy of the soldiers, who were near starving. EXPEDITION TO QUEBEC. 139 Colonel Arnold, with a small party, made a forced march, and returned with provisions purchased of the inhabitants, on which the hunger-bitten adventurers made a voracious meal. (November 4.) The next day at eleven, Major Meigs and his men arrived at a French house, and were hospitably treated. It was the first house he had seen for thirty-one days, having been all that time in a rough, barren, and uninhabited wilderness, where he never saw a human being except those belonging to the detachment. He and his party were immediately supplied with fresh beef, fowls, butter, pheasants, and vegetables, at this set- tlement, called Sertigan, twenty-five leagues from Quebec. They were kindly entertained while march- ing down the country. When Colonel Arnold got within two leagues and a half of Point Levi, (November 8,) he wrote to General Montgomery, that as he had received no answer either from General Schuyler or his friend, he made no doubt but that the Indian had betrayed his trust, — and that he was confirmed in it, upon finding that the inhabitants of Quebec had been some time apprised of his coming, and had destroyed all the canoes at Point Levi, to prevent the detachments from passing over. The fact was, the Indian, instead of delivering the packet as directed, carried it to the lieutenant-governor, who, on reading the letters, se- cured Mr. Mercier, the merchant, and began imme- diately to put the city in the best state of defence he could ; whereas before it was wholly defenceless, and might easily have been carried by surprise. On the 9th of November Colonel Arnold arrived 140 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. at Point Levi, where we leave him to remove, if possible, the embarrassments into which his own im- prudence has brought him, by needlessly trusting an unknown Indian with despatches of the utmost con- sequence. The detachment suffered hardships beyond what can well be conceived of, in the course of the expedition. The men had to haul their batteaux up over falls, up rapid streams, over carrying-places, and to march through morasses, thick woods, and over mountains, for about three hundred and twenty miles. In many places they had to pass over the ground and the mountains several times, as without it they must have left much of their baggage behind, and have failed in the enterprise. They lost all their powder, except what was in cartridges and horns, while pene- trating through the woods. But what proved the greatest trial to them, was the starving condition to which they were reduced when approaching the end of their tedious and distressing march. The pork being gone, they had for four days only half-a-pound of flour a day for each man. Their whole store was then divided, which yielded about four pints of flour per man — a small allowance for men near a hundred miles from any habitation or prospect of supply. It was used sparingly; but several, when they had baked and eaten their last morsel, discovered, to their great confusion, that they had thirty miles to travel before they could expect the least mouthful more. But their dread of consequences was soon removed, by the unexpected return of Colonel Arnold, with cattle. The soldiers exercised the greatest fortitude and patience under the difficulties and sufferings that EXPEDITION AGAINST QUEBEC. 141 occurred; and when again in the midst of plenty, and an easy situation, soon lost all painful remembrance of what had happened, and gloried in having accom- plished, by their indefatigable zeal and industry, an undertaking above the common race of men in this debauched age. Let us attend to Colonel Enos. His return to camp excited both astonishment and indignation. (December 1.) A court martial was ordered to sit upon him ; when it appeared that he had but three days' provision, and was about one hundred miles from the English settlements ; that a council of war was called, which agreed upon the return of the colonel's whole division ; and that he was for going on without, but that it was opposed. It was the unanimous opinion of the court that Colonel Enos was under a necessity of returning, and he was acquitted with honour. A number of officers, of the best character, were fully satisfied and persuaded that his conduct deserved applause rather than censure. Had he not returned, his whole division must have been starved. SIEGE OF QUEBEC AND DEATH OF GENERAL MONTGOMERY. HE Americans, finding all their proposals of alliance rejected, determined to view Canada as a hostile country. They ob- served that the British, almost entirely occupied in the attempt to put down the insurrection, had left this country very slightly defended. In September, 1775, two expeditions were fitted out, which were distinguished by tragical events, as well as by the brilliant and romantic valour of their chiefs. While the main body, under Mont- gomery, marched by Lake Champlain upon Montreal, Arnold, with eleven hundred men, sailed up the Ken- nebec, and proceeded through the vast forest that stretches between it and the St. Lawrence, hoping to General Montgomery. SIEGE OF QUEBEC. 145 surprise Quebec. His march through the wilderness we have already described. The sufferings of the party were extreme, being obliged to eat dog's flesh and the leather of their cartouch-boxes. Yet they arrived, on the 9th of November, at Point Levi, with- out any alarm having reached the capital ; but all the shipping had unfortunately been removed from that side. Arnold was thus unable to cross, and in twenty-four hours the inhabitants were apprised of the danger. On the 14th that active officer contrived to pass the river and occupy the heights of Abraham, though his force was too small for active movements, till joined by Montgomery. This commander sent forward a reconnoitring party under Colonel Ethan Allen, who made a brave but rash attempt on Montreal, in which he was taken, with his party, and afterwards sent in irons to England. Montgomery, however, having reduced the posts of St. John and Chambly, and made prisoners of their garrisons, which included a large proportion of the regular force in Canada, that city was quite unable to resist ; and General Carleton, the governor, with difficulty escaped in a boat with muffled paddles. The American leader then advanced upon Quebec, and took the command of the united force. Carleton had under arms only eighteen hundred men, of whom not more than seventy were regulars ; two hundred and thirty of Fraser's Highlanders, who had settled in the country, were re-embodied under Colonel M'Lean ; the rest were British and Canadian militia, seamen, and others. The summons to surrender, how- ever, was at once rejected; and Montgomery, after 13 K 146 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. pushing the siege during the month of December without any prospect of success, determined to carry the place by a night-assault. On the 31st, two storm- ing parties were formed, — one under himself and the other under Arnold. They were to advance from op- posite sides, and meet at the foot of Mountain Street, then force Prescott Gate, and reach the Upper Town. The first battery encountered by Montgomery was de- fended chiefly by a party of Canadian militia, with nine British seamen to work the guns. Having re- ceived some previous notice, they were on the watch j and, about daybreak, saw amid the snow a body of troops in full march from Wolfe's Cove. Orders were given by the British commander to make no move- ment ; and the Americans having halted at the distance of fifty yards, sent forward an officer to reconnoitre, who found everything perfectly still. On his return the assailants rushed forward in double quick time to the attack. When they were close to the spot, Captain Barnsfare, at the critical moment, gave the signal for a general discharge of guns and musketry. It told with unexpected and fatal effect ; for, among many others, Montgomery himself, the gallant chief, fell to rise no more. The troops, on witnessing this disaster, made a precipitate retreat. Meantime Arnold, from the opposite side, pushed on his attack with desperate resolution. In assaulting the first barrier, he received a severe wound in the leg, which obliged him to quit the field. But his party, led on by Captain Morgan, carried the post, and pushed on to a second. Here, however, their efforts were vain ; and General Carleton having sent a detachment upon SIEGE OF QUEBEC. 147 their rear, they were surrounded, and finally, to the number of four hundred and twenty-six, obliged to surrender. Neither of the parties thus reached the main point of attack at Prescott Gate, where the gov- ernor was stationed, with the determination to main- tain it to the last extremity. The British were not yet aware of all the results of the contest. As soon as the retreat of the first party was ascertained, they went out and collected, from under the snow which had already covered them, thirteen bodies. The surmise soon arose that one of them was that of the commander; yet some hours elapsed before an officer of Arnold's division identified him, with the deepest expressions of admiration and regret. Montgomery, a gentleman of good family in the north of Ireland, had served under Wolfe, but having afterwards formed a matrimonial connexion in America, he had adopted with enthusiasm the cause of the United States as that of liberty. His military character, joined to his private virtues, inspired general esteem, and has secured to him a place on the roll of noble and gallant chiefs who fell beneath the walls of Quebec. Arnold succeeded to the command, and attempted still to maintain his ground ; but the dispirited state of his men, still more than his actual loss, rendered him unable to keep up more than an imperfect blockade, at the distance of three miles. In April, 1776, his place was taken by General Wooster, who brought a reinforcement, and made some fresh at- tempts, but without success. Early in May, several vessels arrived from England with troops and supplies, 148 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. on which the Americans raised the siege, and fell back upon Montreal. Thence they retired from post to post, till, on the 18th of June, they finally evacuated the province, on which they never made any further attempt. Sir Guy Carleton. SCENES AT QUEBEC DURING THE SIEGE. UDGE HENRY, who was one of the prisoners taken by the British at Quebec, and whose opportunities of information ap- pear to have been excellent, gives in his narrative of the cam- paign an account of the death of Montgomery, different from that which is given above on the authority of Murray, a British writer. Judge Henry's account is addressed to his children, and the extract given below commences after his account of 152 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. his own capture, which happened on the 31st of December, 1775, when Montgomery fell. General Montgomery had marched at the precise time stipulated, and had arrived at his destined place of attack, nearly about the time we attacked the first barrier. He was not one that would loiter. Colonel Campbell, of the New York troops, a large, good- looking man, who was second in command of that party, and was deemed a veteran, accompanied the army to the assault ; his station was rearward, General Montgomery, with his aids, were at the point of the column. It is impossible to give you a fair and complete idea of the nature and situation of the place solely with the pen — the pencil is required. As by the special permission of government, obtained by the good offices of Captain Prentis, in the summer following, Boyd, a few others and myself, reviewed the causes of our dis- aster ; it is therefore in my power, so far as my abilities will permit, to give you a tolerable notion of the spot. Cape Diamond nearly resembles the great jutting rock which is in the narrows at Hunter's Falls, on the Sus- quehanna. The rock, at the latter place, shoots out as steeply as that at Quebec, but by no means forms so great an angle, on the margin of the river ; but is more craggy. There is a stronger and more obvious difference in the comparison. When you surmount the hill at St. Charles, or the St. Lawrence side, which to the eye are equally high and steep, you are on Abraham's Plains, and see an extensive champaign country. The bird's-eye view around Quebec bears FORTIFICATIONS OF QUEBEC. 153 a striking conformity to the sites of Northumberland and Pittsburg, in Pennsylvania ; but the former is on a more gigantic scale, and each of the latter wants the steepness and cragginess of the back ground, and depth of river. This detail is to instruct you in the geographical situation of Quebec, and for the sole purpose of explaining the manner of General Mont- gomery's death, and the reasons of our failure. From Wolf's Cove, there is a good beach down to and around " Cape Diamond." The bulwarks of the city came to the edge of the hill, above that place. Thence down the side of the precipice, slantingly to the brink of the river, there was a stockade of strong posts, fifteen or twenty feet high, knit together by a stout railing, at bottom and top with pins. This was no mean defence, and was at the distance of one hundred yards from the point of the rock. Within this palisade, and at a few yards from the very point itself, there was a like palisade, though it did not run so high up the hill. Again, within Cape Diamond, and probably at a distance of fifty yards, there stood a block-house, which seemed to take up the space between the foot of the hill and the precipitous bank of the river, leaving a cartway or passage on each side of it. When heights and distances are spoken of, you must recollect that the description of Cape Diamond and its vicinity is merely that of the eye, made as it were running, under the inspection of an officer. The review of the ground our army had acted upon, was accorded us as a particular favour. Even to have stepped the spaces in a formal manner would have been dishonourable, if not a species of treason. 154 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. A block-house, if well constructed, is an admirable method of defence, which in the process of the war, to our cost, was fully experienced. In the instance now before us (though the house was not built upon the most approved principles), it was a formidabb object. It was a square of perhaps forty or fifty feet. The large logs, neatly squared, were tightly bound together by dove-tail work. If not much mistaken, the lower story contained loop-holes for musketry, so narrow that those within could not be harmed from without. The upper story had four or more port- holes, for cannon of a large calibre. These guns were charged with grape or canister-shot, and were pointed with exactness towards the avenue at Cape Diamond. The hero Montgomery came. The drowsy or drunken guard did not hear the sawing of the posts of the first palisade. Here, if not very erro- neous, four posts were sawed and thrown aside, so as to admit four men abreast. The column entered with a manly fortitude. Montgomery, accompanied by his aids, M'Pherson and Cheeseman, advanced in front. Arriving at the second palisade, the general, with his oivn hands, sawed down two of the pickets, in such a manner as to admit two men abreast. These sawed pickets were close under the hill, and but a few yards from the very point of the rock, out of the view and fire of the enemy from the block- house. Until our troops advanced to the point, no harm could ensue but by stones thrown from above. Even now there had been but an imperfect discovery of the advancing of an enemy, and that only by the intoxicated guard. The guard fled ; the general SCENES AT QUEBEC. 155 advanced a few paces. A drunken sailor returned to his gun, swearing he would not forsake it while un- discharged. This fact is related from the testimony of the guard on the morning of our capture, some of those sailors being our guard. Applying the match, this single discharge deprived us of our excellent commander. Examining the spot, the officer who escorted us, professing to be one of those who first came to the place after the death of Montgomery, showed the position in which the general's body was found. It lay two paces from the brink of the river, on the back, the arms extended — Cheeseman lay on the left, and M'Pherson on the right, in a triangular position. Two other brave men lay near them. The ground above described was visited by an inquisitive eye, so that you may rely with some implicitness on the truth of the picture. As all danger from without had vanished, the government had not only permitted the mutilated palisades to remain, without renewing the enclosure, but the very sticks, sawed by the hand of our commander, still lay strewed about the spot. Colonel Campbell, appalled by the death of the general, retreated a little way from Cape Diamond, out of the reach of the cannon of the block-house, and called a council of officers, who, it was said, justified his receding from the attack. By rushing on, as military duty required, and a brave man would have done, the block-house might have been occupied by a small number, and was unassailable from with- out, but by cannon. From the block-house to the centre of the Lower Town, where we were, there was 156 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. no obstacle to impede a force so powerful as that under Colonel Campbell. Cowardice, or a want of good-will towards our cause, left us to our miserable fate. A junction, though we might not conquer the fortress, would enable us to make an honourable retreat, though with the loss of many valuable lives. Campbell, who was ever after considered as a poltroon in grain, retreated, leaving the bodies of the general, M'Pherson and Cheeseman, to be devoured by the dogs. The disgust caused among us, as to Campbell, was so great as to create the unchristian wish, that he might be hanged. In that desultory period, though he was tried, he was acquitted ; that was also the case of Colonel Enos, who deserted us on the Kennebec. There never were two men more worthy of punish- ment of the most exemplary kind. On the 3d or 4th of January, being as it were domesticated in the sergeant's mess in the rcguliers, a file of men, headed by an officer, called to conduct me to the seminary. Adhering to the advice of Colonel M'Dougal, the invitation was declined, though the hero Morgan had solicited this grace from Governor Carleton, and had sent me a kind and pressing message. My reasons, which were explained to Morgan, in addition to the one already given, operated forcibly on my mind. Having lost all my clothes in the wilderness, except those on my back ; and those acquired by the provident and gratuitous spirit, of General Montgomery having remained at our quarters, and become a prey to the women and invalids of the army; nothing remained fitting me to SCENES AT QUEBEC. 157 appear in company anywhere. Additionally, it had become a resolution, when leaving Lancaster, as my absence would go near to break the hearts of my parents, never to break upon my worthy father's purse. Dire necessity compelled me to rescind this resolution in part, in the wilderness, but that circum- stance made me the more determined to adhere to the resolve afterwards. Again, my intimate friends were not in the seminary. Steele was in the hospital, and Simpson, by previous command, on the charming Isle of Orleans, which, from its fruitfulness, had be- come as it were our store-house. Add to all these reasons, it could not be said of the gentlemen in the seminary, "they are my intimates," except as to Captain Morgan, and Lieutenant F. Nichols of Hen- drick's. Besides, my leather small-clothes, all in fritters, had been cast away, and a savage covering adopted until more auspicious times came. But even now, an idea of escape and vengeance inflamed the breasts of many, and we were here in a much superior situation for such a purpose than that of the seminary. All these facts and circumstances, induced me to decline the friendly solicitation of the kind-hearted Morgan. On the third day after our capture, the generous Carleton despatched a flag to Arnold, to obtain what trifling baggage we had left at our quarters. Mine was either forgotton, or, miserable as it was, had been plundered ; but as good luck would have it, the knapsack of one Alexander Nelson, of our company, who was killed when running to the first barrier, was disclaimed by all of our men. I, in consequence, laid 14 158 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. violent hands upon the spoil. It furnished my com- panion and myself with a large but coarse blue blanket, called a "stroud," and a drummer's regi- mental coat. The blanket became a real comfort, the coat an article of barter. It was on this day that my heart was ready to burst with grief at viewing the funeral of our beloved general. Carleton had, in our former wars with the French, been the friend and fellow-soldier of Mont- gomery. Though political opinion, perhaps ambition or interest, had thrown these worthies on different sides of the great question, yet the former could not but honour the remains of his quondam friend. About noon the procession passed our quarters. It was most solemn. The coffin, covered with a pall, surmounted by transverse swords, was borne by men. The regular troops, particularly that fine body of men, the seventh regiment, with reversed arms, and scarfs on the left elbow, accompanied the corpse to the grave. The funerals of the other officers, both friends and enemies, were performed this day. From many of us it drew tears of affection for the de- ceased, — and speaking for myself, tears of greeting and thankfulness towards General Carleton. The soldiery and inhabitants appeared affected by the loss of this invaluable man, though he was their enemy. If such men as Washington, Carleton, and Mont- gomery, had had the entire direction of the adverse war, the contention, in the event, might have happily terminated to the advantage of both sections of the nation. M'Pherson, Cheeseman, Hendricks, and Hum- phreys, were all dignified by the manner of burial. SCENES AT QUEBEC. 161 On the same or the following day, we were com- pelled (if we would look) to a more disgusting and torturing sight. Many carioles, repeatedly one after the other, passed our dwelling loaded with the dead, whether of the assailants or of the garrison, to a place emphatically called the "dead-house." Here the bodies were heaped in monstrous piles. The horror of the sight, to us southern men, principally consisted in seeing our companions borne to in- terment, uncoffined, and in the very clothes they had worn in battle, — their limbs distorted in various di- rections, such as would ensue in the moment of death. Many of our friends and acquaintances were apparent. Poor Nelson lay on the top of half-a-dozen other bodies, his arms extended beyond his head, as if in the act of prayer, and one knee crooked and raised, seemingly, when he last gasped in the agonies of death. A flood of tears was consequent. Though Montgomery was beloved, because of his manliness of soul, heroic bravery, and suavity of manners — Hendricks and Humphreys, for the same admirable qualities, and especially for the endurances we under- went in conjunction, which caused many a tear — still my unhappy and lost brethren, though in humble station, with whom that dreadful wild was penetrated, and from whom came many attentions towards me, forced melancholy sensations. From what is said relative to the " dead-house," you might conclude that General Carleton was in- humane or hard-hearted. No such thing. In this northern latitude, at this season of the year, ac- cording to my feelings (we had no thermometer), the 14* L 162 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. weather was so cold as usually to be many degrees below zero. A wound, if mortal, or even otherwise, casts the party wounded into the snow; if death should follow, it throws the sufferer into various attitudes, which are assumed in the extreme pain accompanying death. The moment death takes place, the frost fixes the limbs in whatever situation they may then happen to be, and which cannot be reduced to decent order until they are thawed. In this state the bodies of the slain are deposited in the "dead-house," hard as ice. At this season of the year the earth is frozen from two to five feet deep, impenetrable to the best pickaxe, in the hands of the stoutest man. Hence you may perceive a justification of the " dead-house." It is no new observation, that "climates form the manners and habitudes of the people." Sir Peter Parker EXPEDITION AGAINST CHARLESTON. HARLESTON, the capital of v South Carolina, stands on a h ^j point of land which lies be- iyCs* tween the rivers Cooper and Ashley, which fall into a bay of the Atlantic; and in the bay there are several islands. The people re- solved to fortify the capital of the province ; and for that purpose erected a fort on Sullivan's Island, which lies in the bay, about six miles below the town, and near the channel leading to it. The fort was con- 166 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. structed with the wood of the palmetto, a tree peculiar to the Southern States, which grows from twenty to forty feet high without branches, and terminates in a top resembling the head of a cabbage. The wood of the tree is remarkably spongy ; and a ball entering it makes no extended fracture, but buries itself in the wood, without injuring the adjacent parts. The fort was mounted with about thirty cannon — thirty-two, eighteen, and nine-pounders. In the latter part of the year 1775 and beginning of 1776, great exertions had been made in Britain to send an overwhelming force into America; and on the 2d of June the alarm-guns were fired in the vicinity of Charleston, and expresses sent to the militia officers to hasten to the defence of the capital with the forces under their command. The order was promptly obeyed ; and some continental regi- ments from the neighbouring states also arrived. The whole was under the direction of General Lee, who had been appointed commander of all the forces in the Southern States, and had under him the conti- nental generals, Armstrong and Howe. The utmost activity prevailed in Charleston. The citizens, abandoning their usual avocations, em- ployed themselves entirely in putting the town into a respectable state of defence. They pulled down the valuable storehouses on the wharves, barricaded the streets, and constructed lines of defence along the shore. Relinquishing the pursuits of peaceful industry and commercial gain, they engaged in incessant la- bour, and prepared for bloody conflicts. The troops, amounting to between five and six thousand men, EXPEDITION AGAINST CHARLESTON. 167 were stationed in the most advantageous positions. The second and third regular regiments of South Carolina, under Colonels Moultrie and Thomson, were posted on Sullivan's Island. A regiment, com- manded by Colonel Gadsden, was stationed at Fort Johnson, about three miles below Charleston, on the most northerly point of James's Island, and within point-blank shot of the channel. The rest of the troops were posted at Haddrel's Point, along the bay near the town, and at such other places as were thought most proper. Amidst all this bustle and preparation, lead for bullets was extremely scarce, and the windows of Charleston were stripped of their weights, in order to procure a small supply of that necessary article. While the Americans were thus busily employed, the British exerted themselves with activity. About the middle of February, an armament sailed from the cove of Cork, under the command of Sir Peter Parker and Earl Cornwallis, to encourage and support the loyalists in the southern provinces. After a tedious voyage, the greater part of the fleet reached Cape Fear, in North Carolina, on the 3d of May. General Clinton, who had left Boston in De- cember, took the command of the land forces, and issued a proclamation, promising pardon to all the inhabitants who laid down their arms ; but that pro- clamation produced no effect. Early in June, an armament, consisting of between forty and fifty ves- sels, appeared off Charleston Bay, and thirty-six of the transports passed the bar, and anchored about three miles from Sullivan's Island. Some hundreds of 168 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. the troops landed on Long Island, which lies on the west of Sullivan's Island, and which is separated from it by a narrow channel, often fordable. On the 10th of the month, the Bristol, a fifty-gun ship, having taken out her guns, got safely over the bar ; and on the 25th, the Experiment, a ship of equal force, arrived, and next day passed in the same way. On the part of the British everything was now ready for action. Sir Henry Clinton had nearly three thousand men under his command. The naval force, under Sir Peter Park- er, consisted of the Bristol and Experiment, of fifty guns each ; the Acteon, Solebay, and Syren frigates, of twenty-eight guns each ; the Friendship, of twenty- two, and the Sphinx, of twenty guns ; the Ranger sloop, and Thunder bomb, of eight guns each. On the forenoon of the 28th of June, this fleet ad- vanced against the fort on Sullivan's Island, which was defended by Colonel Moultrie, with three hun- dred and forty-four regular troops, and some militia, who volunteered their services on the occasion. The Thunder bomb began the battle. The Acteon, Bristol, Experiment, and Solebay followed boldly to the attack, and a terrible cannonade ensued. The fort returned the fire of the ships slowly, but with deliberate and deadly aim. The contest was carried on during the whole day with unabating fury. All the forces col- lected at Charleston stood prepared for battle; and both the troops and the numerous spectators beheld the conflict with alternations of hope and fear, which appeared in their countenances and gestures. They knew not how soon the fort might be silenced or passed by, and the attack made immediately upon them- ATTACK ON FORT MOULTRIE. 169 selves ; but they were resolved to meet the invaders at the water's edge, to dispute every inch of ground, and to prefer death to what they considered to be slavery. The Sphinx, Acteon, and Syren were ordered to attack the western extremity of the fort, which was in a very unfinished state ; but as they proceeded for that purpose, they got entangled with a shoal, called the Middle Ground. Two of them ran foul of each other ; the Acteon stuck fast ; the Sphinx and Syren got off, the former with the loss of her bowsprit, the latter with little injury ; but, happily for the Ameri- cans, that part of the attack completely failed. It had been concerted that, during the attack by the ships, Sir Henry Clinton, with the troops, should pass the narrow channel which separates Long Island from Sullivan's Island, and assail the fort by land ; but this the general found impracticable ; for the channel, though commonly fordable, was at that time, by a long prevalence of easterly winds, deeper than usual. Sir Henry Clinton and some other officers waded up to the shoulders ; but finding the depth still increasing, they abandoned the intention of attempting the passage. The seamen who found themselves engaged in such a severe conflict, often cast a wistful look towards Long Island, in the hope of seeing Sir Henry Clinton and the troops advancing against the fort ; but their hope was disappointed, and the ships and the fort were left to themselves to decide the combat. Although the chan- nel had been fordable, the British troops would have found the passage an arduous enterprise ; for Colonel Thomson, with a strong detachment of riflemen, reg- ulars, and militia, was posted on the east end of Sulli- 15 170 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. van's Island to oppose any attack made in that quarter. In the course of the day the fire of the fort ceased for a short time, and the British flattered themselves that the guns were abandoned; but the pause was occasioned solely by the want of powder, and when a supply was obtained the cannonade recommenced as steadily as before. The engagement, which began about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, continued with unabated fury till seven in the evening, when the fire slackened, and about nine entirely ceased on both sides. During the night, all the ships except the Acteon, which was aground, removed about two miles from the island. Next morning the fort fired a few shots at the Acteon, and she at first returned them ; but, in a short time, her crew set her on fire and abandoned her. A party of Americans boarded the burning vessel, seized her colours, fired some of her guns at Commodore Parker, filled three boats with her sails and stores, and then quitted her. She blew up shortly afterwards. In this obstinate engagement both parties fought with great gallantry. The loss of the British was considerable. The Bristol had forty men killed, and seventy-one wounded ; Mr. Morris, her captain, lost an arm. The Experiment had twenty-three men killed, and seventy-six wounded ; Captain Scott, her commander, also lost an arm ; Lord William Camp- bell, the late governor of the province, who served on board as a volunteer, received a wound in his side, which ultimately proved mortal ; Commodore Sir Peter Parker received a slight contusion. The ATTACK ON FORT MOULTRIE. 171 Acteon had Lieutenant Pike killed, and six men wounded. The Solebay had eight men wounded. After some days the troops were all reimbarked, and the whole armament sailed for New York. The gar- rison lost ten men killed, and twenty-two wounded. Although the Americans were raw troops, yet they behaved with the steady intrepidity of veterans. In the course of the engagement the flag-staff of the fort was shot away ; but Sergeant Jasper leaped down upon the beach, snatched up the flag, fastened it to a sponge staff, and, while the ships were incessantly directing their broadsides upon the fort, he mounted the merlon and deliberately replaced the flag. Next day President Rutledge presented him with a sword, as a testimony of respect for his distinguished valour. Colonel Moultrie, and the officers and troops on Sul- livan's Island, received the thanks of their country for their bravery ; and, in honour of the gallant com- mander, the fort was named Fort Moultrie. The failure of the attack on Charleston was of great importance to the American cause, and con- tributed much to the establishment of the popular government. The friends of Congress triumphed ; and numbers of them, ignorant of the power of Britain and of the spirit which animated her counsels, fondly imagined that their freedom was achieved. The diffident became bold ; the advocates of the irre- sistibility of British fleets and armies were mor- tified and silenced ; and they who from interested motives had hitherto been loud in their professions of loyalty, began to alter their tone. The brave defence of Fort Moultrie saved the Southern States from the horrors of war for several years. Independence Hall, Philadelphia. THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. was HE part taken by Adams and Jefferson in bringing about the Declaration of |J Independence, is thus de- scribed by Mr. Everett : In 1774, and on the 17th of June, a day des- tined to be in every way illustrious, Mr. Adams elected a member of the Continental Congress, DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 173 of which body he was signalized, from the first, as a distinguished leader. In the month of June in the following year, when a commander-in-chief was to be chosen for the American armies, and when that appointment seemed in course to belong to the commanding general of the brave army from Massa- chusetts and the neighbouring states, which had rushed to the field, Mr. Adams nominated George Washington to that all-important post, and was thus far the means of securing the blessing of his guidance to the American armies. In August 1775, Mr. Jefferson took his seat in the Continental Congress, preceded by the fame of being one of the most' accomplished and powerful cham- pions of the cause, though among the youngest mem- bers of the body. It was the wish of Mr. Adams, and probably of Mr. Jefferson, that independence should be declared in the fall of 1775 ; but the coun- try seemed not then ripe for the measure. At length the accepted time arrived. In May 1776, the colonies, on the proposition of Mr. Adams, were invited by the General Congress to establish their several state governments. On the 7th of June the resolution of independence was moved by Richard Henry Lee. On the 11th a committee of five was chosen, to announce this resolution to the world ; and Thomas Jefferson and John Adams stood at the head of this committee. From their designation by ballot to this most honourable duty, their elevated standing in the Congress might alone be inferred. In their ami- cable contention and deference each to the other of the great trust of composing the all-important docu- 15* 174 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. ment, we witness their patriotic disinterestedness and their mutual respect. This trust devolved on Jeffer- son, and with it rests on him the imperishable renown of having penned the Declaration of Independence of America. To have been the instrument of expressing, in one brief decisive act, the concentrated will and reso- lution of a whole family of states ; of unfolding, in one all-important manifesto, the causes, the motives, the justi- fication of the great movement in human affairs which was then taking place; to have been permitted to give the impress and peculiarity of his own mind to a charter of public right, destined, or rather let me say, already elevated to an importance, in the estimation of men, beyond everything human, ever borne on parchment, or expressed in the visible signs of thought, this is the glory of Thomas Jefferson. To have been among the first of those who foresaw, and foreseeing broke the way for this great consummation ; to have been the mover of numerous decisive acts, its un- doubted precursors ; to have been among many able and generous spirits, that united in this perilous ad- venture, by acknowledgment unsurpassed in zeal, and unequalled in power ; to have been exclusively associa- ted with the author of the declaration ; and then, in the exercise of an eloquence as prompt as it was over- whelming, to have taken the lead in inspiring the Congress to adopt and proclaim it, this is the glory of John Adams. Nor was it among common and inferior minds, that these men enjoyed their sublime pre-eminence. In the body that elected Mr. Jefferson to draft the Declaration of Independence, there sat a patriot sage, than whom DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 175 the English language does not boast a better writer, Benjamin Franklin. And Mr. Adams was pronounced by Mr. Jefferson himself the ablest advocate of inde- pendence, in a Congress which could boast among its members such men as Patrick Henry, Richard Henry Lee, and our own Samuel Adams. They were great and among great men ; mightiest among the mighty ; and enjoyed their lofty standing in a body of which half the members might with honour have presided over the deliberative councils of a nation. All glorious as their office in this council of sages has proved, they beheld the glory only in distant vision, while the prospect before them was shrouded with darkness and lowering with terror. " I am not trans- ported with enthusiasm," is the language of Mr. Adams, the day after the resolution was adopted ; "lam well aware of the toil, the treasure, and the blood it will cost, to maintain this declaration, to support and defend these states. Yet through all the gloom, I can see a ray of light and glory. I can see that the end is worth more than all the means." Nor was it the rash adven- ture of uneasy spirits, who had everything to gain and nothing to risk by their enterprise. They left all for their country's sake. Who does not see that Adams and Jefferson might have risen to any station in the British empire ! They might have revelled in the royal bounty ; they might have shared the imperial counsels ; they might have stood within the shadow of the throne which they shook to its base. It was in the full un- derstanding of their all but desperate choice, that they chose for their country. Many were the inducements which called them to another choice. The dread voice 176 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. of authority; the array of an empire's power; the pleadings of friendship ; the yearning of their hearts towards the land of their fathers' sepulchres — the land which the great champions of constitutional liberty still made venerable ; the ghastly vision of the gibbet, if they failed ; all the feelings which 'grew from these sources were to be stifled and kept down, for a dearer treasure was at stake. They were anything but ad- venturers, anything but malecontents. They loved peace, they loved order, they loved law, they loved a manly obedience to constitutional authority ; but they chiefly loved freedom and their country ; and they took up the ark of her liberties with pure hands, and bore it through in triumph, for their strength was in Heaven. THE BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND. N evacuating Boston, General Howe retired with his forces to Halifax, and General Wash- ington started for New York, where he soon arrived with his army. In that city the British interest had been more powerful than in any other place in the provinces; and the struggle between the friends of British domination and of American freedom had been more doubtful there than in any other quarter. But, by superior numbers and more 178 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. daring activity, the adherents of Congress had gained the ascendancy. On his arrival in the city, General Washington endeavoured to put it into a posture of defence ; and as the British, by means of their fleet, had the command of the waters, he attempted to obstruct the navigation of the East and North Rivers, by sinking vessels in the channels. He also raised fortifications at New York, and on Long Island; and made every preparation in his power for giving the British army a vigorous reception. General Howe remained some time at Halifax ; but after the recovery of his troops from the fatigue and sickness occasioned by the blockade of Boston, he em- barked, sailed to the southward, and on the 2d of July landed, without opposition, on Staten Island, which lies on the coast of New Jersey, and is separated from Long Island by a channel called the Narrows. His army amounted to nine thousand men ; and his brother Lord Howe, commander of the British fleet, who had touched at Halifax expecting to find him there, arrived soon afterwards, with a reinforcement of about twenty thousand men from Britain. Thus General Howe had the command of nearly thirty thousand troops, for the purpose of subjugating the American colonies ; a more formidable force than had ever before visited these shores. General Washington was ill prepared to meet such a powerful army. His force consisted of about nine thousand men, many of whom were ill-armed, and about two thousand more without any arms at all; but new levies were daily coming in. On his arrival, Lord Howe, by a flag, sent ashore to Amboy a circular letter to several of the late royal BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND. 179 governors, and a declaration mentioning the powers with which he and his brother the general were invested, and desiring their publication. These papers General Washington transmitted to Congress, who ordered them to be published in the newspapers, that the people, as they alleged, might be apprised of the nature and extent of the powers of these commissioners, with the expect- ation of whom it had been attempted to amuse and disarm them. General Howe wished to open a corres- pondence with General Washington, but without acknowledging his official character as commander- in-chief of the American armies ; and for this purpose he sent a letter to New York, addressed to " George Washington, Esquire." That letter the general refused to receive, because it was not addressed to him in his official character. A second letter was sent, addressed to " George Washington, &c. &c. &c." That also, the general declined to receive ; but acted in the most polite manner towards Adjutant-General Paterson, the officer who bore it ; who, on his part, behaved himself in a manner becoming his character as a gentleman. Congress approved of the conduct of General Wash- ington on the occasion ; and ordered that none of their officers should receive letters or messages from the British army unless addressed to them according to their respective ranks. But this dispute about a point of form was soon succeeded by the din of arms and the horrors of active warfare. The American army was not very formidable. In the month of July, indeed, it amounted to about seventeen thousand men, but a much greater number had been expected ; of fifteen thousand new levies, that had been ordered, only five 180 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. Washington declining Howe's Letter. thousand had arrived in camp. But the quality and equipment of the troops were more discouraging than their numbers: they were ill-disciplined, ill-armed, and little accustomed to that subordination and prompt obedience, which are essential to the efficiency of an army. They were as deficient in ammunition as in armour ; and, instead of being cordially united in the common cause, they were distracted by provincial jea- lousies, prejudices, and animosities. This raw and ill-armed multitude was opposed to thirty thousand troops, many of them veterans, all of them excellently equipped, and provided with a fine train of artillery. The Americans soon had the mor- tification to find that all their endeavours to obstruct BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND. 181 the navigation of the rivers were ineffectual ; for several British ships-of-war passed up the North River, with- out receiving any considerable damage from a heavy cannonade directed against them from the shore. The American army was posted partly at New York, and partly on Long Island. General Greene commanded in the latter place ; but that officer being taken ill, General Sullivan was appointed in his room. General Howe, having collected his troops on Staten Island, and finding himself sufficiently strong to com- mence active operations, on the 22d of August crossed the Narrows without opposition, and landed on Long Island, between two small towns, Utrecht and Gravesend. The American division on the island, about eleven thousand strong, occupied a fortified camp at Brooklyn, opposite New York. Their right flank was covered by a marsh, which extended to the East River near Mill Creek ; their left, by an elbow of the river named Wallabach Bay. Across the peninsula, from Mill Creek to Wallabach Bay, the Americans had thrown up intrenchments, secured by abattis, or felled trees with their tops turned outwards, and flanked by strong redoubts. In their rear was the East River, about thirteen hundred yards wide, separating them from New York. In front of the fortified camp, and at some distance from it, a woody ridge obliquely intersected the island; and through that ridge there are passages by three different de- files — one at the southern extremity near the Narrows, another about the middle on the Flatbush road, and a third near the northeast extremity of the hills on 16 182 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. the Bedford road. Those defiles General Greene had carefully examined ; and as it was evident that the British army must debark on the further side of the ridge, he resolved to dispute the passage of the defiles. General Sullivan, who succeeded to the command on the illness of General Greene, was not equally sensible of the importance of those passes. On the landing of the British, however, he sent strong detachments to guard the passes near the Narrows, and on the Flatbush road ; but the more distant pass he did not duly attend to, merely sending an officer with a party to observe it, and give notice if the enemy should appear there. That was no adequate precaution for the security of the pass ; and the officer appointed to watch it discharged his duty in the most slovenly manner. General Howe soon learned that there would be little difficulty in marching by the most distant defile, and turning the left of the Americans. Accordingly, early in the morning of the 27th of August, assisted by Sir Henry Clinton, who had joined him some time before with the troops that had been employed in the unsuccessful attack on Sullivan's Island, he marched with a strong column towards that defile. In order to divert the attention of the Americans from that movement, he ordered Generals Grant and Heister, with their respective divisions, to attack the passes near the Narrows and on the Flatbush road. General Grant proceeded to the southernmost defile. The American advanced guard fled on his approach ; but the commander of the detachment appointed to guard that pass afterwards occupied an advantageous po- BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND. 183 sition, and bravely maintained his ground. General Heister, with the Hessians, skirmished on the Flat- bush road. While the attention of the Americans was engaged by the operation of those two columns, the main body of the British army proceeded without interruption through the most remote pass ; and the American officer appointed to observe that road, performed his duty so ill, that General Howe's column had nearly gained the rear of the American detachment who de- fended the pass on the Flatbush road, before he gave the alarm. That division had hitherto steadily resist- ed the Hessians ; but being apprised of the progress of the hostile column on their left, and being appre- hensive of an attack on their rear, they began to re- treat. That movement, however, was too late ; for they were met by the British who had now gained their rear, and who drove them back on the Hessians, who, in their turn, compelled them to retreat towards the British. Thus they were driven backward and forward between two fires, till, by a desperate effort, the greater part of them forced their way through the British line, and regained their camp. The division which opposed General Grant fought bravely, and maintained their ground until informed of the defeat of the left wing, when they retreated in confusion ; and, in order to avoid the enemy, who were far advanced on their rear, the greater part of them attempted to escape along the dike of a mill-dam, and through a marsh, where many of them perished, but a remnant regained the camp. This division suf- fered severely, and the loss was much regretted, be- 184 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. cause many young men of the most respectable families in Maryland belonged to it, and fell on the occasion. The British soldiers behaved with their usual courage, and it was with difficulty that they were restrained from instantly attacking the American camp: but General Howe, who always exercised a laudable care of the lives of his men, checked their impetuosity ; perceiving that, without any great loss, he could compel the Americans to surrender, or to evacuate their camp. On that disastrous day the Americans lost two thousand men, in killed, wounded, and prisoners ; among the latter were Generals Sulli- van, Woodhull, and Alexander, titular Lord Stirling. They also lost six pieces of artillery. The British and Hessians had between three and four hundred men killed or wounded. To attempt the defence of the islands against an enemy with a triumphant navy was an error in the American plan of the campaign ; but the loss of the battle, or at least the easy victory of the British, was owing to the incapacity of General Sullivan. He was full of confidence, and paid no due attention to the more distant pass ; but the issue of the day showed him, that confidence was not always the harbinger of success. Had Greene commanded, the result would probably have been somewhat different. In the evening, the victorious army encamped in front of the American works; and on the morning of the 28th, broke ground about six hundred yards from the redoubt on the left. The Americans soon BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND. 187 became sensible that their position was untenable, and a retreat was resolved on; but the execution of that measure presented great difficulties. The East River, nearly a mile broad, and* sufficiently deep to float vessels of war, was in their rear; the British had a strong fleet at hand ; and the victorious army was in front. Escape seemed impracticable ; but in the face of all those difficulties, the Americans, to the number of nine thousand men, with their am- munition, artillery, provisions, horses, and carriages, on the evening of the 29th and morning of the 30th of August, passed over from Brooklyn to New York, without the loss of a man. The retreat took thirteen hours, during part of which time it rained ; and, on the morning of the 30th, a thick fog hung over Long Island, and concealed from the British the operations of the Americans, while at New York the atmosphere was perfectly clear. The fog disappeared about half an hour after the American rear-guard had left the island. Thus, by great exertions and a fortunate combination of circumstances, the American army escaped from the perilous situation in which it had been placed. General Charles Lee. WASHINGTON'S RETREAT THROUGH JERSEY CAPTURE OF GENERAL LEE. N the 12th of November, General Washington had crossed the North River with part of his army, and taken a position not far from Fort Lee, having left up- wards of seven thousand men at North Castle, under the command of General Lee. RETREAT THROUGH JERSEY. 189 At that time, the American army was in a critical and alarming state. It was composed chiefly of militia, and of men engaged for a short time only. The term of service of many of them was about to expire ; and the republican military force was on the point of dissolution, in the presence of a well-dis- ciplined, well-appointed, and victorious enemy. In that threatening posture of public affairs, Gen- eral Washington applied to the state of Massa- chusetts for four thousand new militia; and Gen- eral Lee besought the militia under his command to remain for a few days after their term of service was expired. But the application of the commander-in- chief was not promptly answered ; and the earnest entreaties of General Lee were almost utterly disre- garded. On the fall of Forts Washington and Lee, General Washington, with his little army, of about three thou- sand effective men, ill armed, worse clad, and almost without tents, blankets, or utensils for cooking their provisions, took a position behind the Hackensack. His army consisted chiefly of the garrison of Fort Lee, which had been obliged to evacuate that place with so much precipitation as to leave behind them the tents and most of the articles of comfort and accom- modation in their possession. But although General Washington made a show of resistance by occupying the line of the Hackensack, yet he was sensible of his inability to dispute the passage of that river ; he there- fore retreated to Newark. There he remained some days, making the most earnest applications in every 190 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. Retreat through quarter for reinforcements, and pressing General Lee to hasten his march to the southward and join him. On the advance of Earl Cornwallis, General Washington abandoned Newark, and retreated to Brunswick, a small village on the Raritan. While there, the term of service of a number of his troops expired, and he had the mortification to see them abandon him. From Brunswick the Americans re- treated to Trenton. There General Washington re- ceived a reinforcement of about two thousand men from Pennsylvania. He had taken the precaution of collecting and guarding all the boats on the Delaware from Philadelphia for seventy miles higher up the river. He sent his sick to Philadelphia, and his heavy artillery and baggage across the Delaware. Having taken these precautionary measures, and being somewhat encour- aged by the reinforcements which he had received, he RETREAT THROUGH JERSEY. 191 halted some time at Trenton, and even began to advance towards Princeton ; but being informed that Earl Corn- wallis, strongly reinforced, was marching against him, he was obliged to seek refuge behind the river Del- aware. On the 8th of December he accomplished the passage at Trenton ferry, the van of the British army making its appearance just as his rear-guard had crossed. General Washington was careful to secure all the boats on the south side of the river, and to guard all those places where it was probable that the Brit- ish army might attempt to pass; so that his feeble army was secured from the danger of an immediate attack. The British troops made demonstrations of an intention to cross the river, and detachments were stationed to oppose them ; but the attempt was not seriously made. In this situation the American com- mander anxiously waited for reinforcements, and sent some parties over the river to observe and annoy the enemy. While General Washington was retreating through the Jerseys, he earnestly desired General Lee, who had been left in command of the division of the army at North Castle, to hasten his march to the Delaware and join the main army. But that officer, notwithstanding the critical nature of the case, and the pressing orders of his commander, was in no haste to obey. Reluctant to give up his separate command, and subject himself to superior authority, he marched slowly to the southward, at the head of about three thousand men ; and his sluggish move- ments and unwary conduct proved fatal to his own 192 REVOLUTIONARY WAR, personal liberty, and excited a lively sensation through- out America. He lay carelessly, without a guard, and at some distance from his troops, at Baskingridge, in Morris county, where, on the 13th of December, Colonel Harcourt, who, with a small detachment of light horse, had been sent to observe the movements of that division of the American army, by a gallant act of partisan warfare made him prisoner, and conveyed him rapidly to New York. For some time he was closely confined, and considered not as a prisoner of war, but as a deserter from the British army. The capture of General Lee was regarded as a great misfortune by the Americans; for at that time he enjoyed, in a high degree, the esteem and confidence of the friends of Congress; on the other hand, the British exulted in his captivity, as equal to a signal victory, declaring " that they had taken the American palla- dium." General Knox. BATTLE OF TRENTON. TN that alarming state of affairs which pre- sented itself in the winter of 1776, the American leaders still maintained an erect posture, and their brave and per- severing commander- in-chief did not des- pair. Congress actively employed all the means in their power for supporting their independence, and General Washington applied in every quarter for 17 m 194 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. reinforcements. He perceived the security of the British commander-in-chief, and the advantages which the scattered cantonment of his troops presented to the American arms. " Now," exclaimed he, on being informed of the widely dispersed state of the British troops, " is the time to clip their wings, when they are so spread ;" and, accordingly, he resolved to make a bold effort to check the progress of the enemy. For that purpose he planned an attack on the Hessians at Trenton. General Putnam, who was stationed in Philadelphia, might have been useful in creating a diversion on that side ; but in that city the disaffection to Congress was so great, and the friends of Britain so strong, that it was deemed inexpedient to withdraw, even for a short time, the troops posted there. But a small party of militia, under Colonel Griffin, passed the Delaware near Philadelphia, and advanced to Mount Holly. Count Donop marched against them, but, on their retreat, he returned to Bordentown. General Washington formed his troops into three divisions, which were almost simultaneously to pass the Delaware, at three different places, on the evening of the 25th of December, hoping to surprise the enemy after the festivities of Christmas. One division, under General Cadwalader, was to pass the river in the vicinity of Bristol, but failed through inattention to the state of the tide and of the river, as they could not land on account of the heaps of ice accumulated on the Jersey bank. The second division, under General Irving, was to pass at Trenton ferry, but was unable to make its way through the ice. The third and main division, under the command of BATTLE OF TRENTON. 195 General Washington in person, assisted by Generals Sullivan and Greene, and Colonel Knox of the artillery, accomplished the passage, with great dif- ficulty, at M'Konkey's ferry, about nine miles above Trenton. The general had expected to have his troops on the Jersey side about midnight, and to reach Trenton about five in the morning. But the difficulties arising from the accumulation of ice in the river were so great, that it was three o'clock in the morning before the troops got across, and nearly four before they began to move forwards. They were formed into two divisions, one of which proceeded towards Trenton by the lower or river road, and the other by the upper or Pennington road. Colonel Rhalle had received some intimation that an attack on his post was meditated, and probably would be made on the evening of the 25th. Captain Washington, afterwards much distinguished as an officer of cavalry, had for some days been on a scouting party in the Jerseys with about fifty foot soldiers ; and, ignorant of the meditated attack on the evening of the 25th, had approached Trenton, exchanged a few shots with the advanced senti- nels, and then retreated. The Hessians concluded that this was the threatened attack, and became quite secure. Captain Washington, in his retreat, met the general advancing against Trenton by the upper road, and joined him. Although some apprehensions were entertained that the alarm excited by Captain Washington's appearance might have put the Hessians on their guard ; yet, as there was now no room either for hesitation or delay, the Americans 196 REVOLUTIONARY WAi. steadily continued their march. The night was severe : it sleeted, snowed, and was intensely cold, and the road slippery. But General Washington advanced firmly, and at eight o'olock in the morning reached the Hessian advanced posts, which he instantly drove in ; and, so equal had been the progress of the columns, that in three minutes afterwards the firing on the river road announced the arrival of the other division. Colonel Rhalle, who was a courageous officer, soon had his men under arms, and prepared for a brave de- fence ; but, early in the engagement, he received a mortal wound, and his men being severely galled by the American artillery, about one thousand of them threw down their arms and surrendered themselves prisoners of war; but a considerable body of them, chiefly light horse, retreated towards Bordentown and made their escape. In this attack not many Hessians were killed, and the Americans lost only four or five men, some of whom were frozen to death by the intense cold of the night. Some of General Washington's officers wished him to follow up his success, and he was much inclined to pursue that course ; but a council of war was averse from the measure, and he did not think it advisable to act contrary to the prevailing opinion. On the evening of the 26th he repassed the Dela- ware, carrying his prisoners along with him, and their arms, colours, and artillery. This enterprise, although it failed in several of its parts, was completely successful in so far as it was under the immediate direction of the commander-in- chief, and it had a happy effect on the affairs of BATTLE OF TRENTON. 197 America. It was the first wave of the returning tide. It filled the British with astonishment; and the Hessians, whose name had before inspired the people with fear, ceased to be terrible. The prisoners were paraded through the streets of Philadelphia to prove the reality of the victory, which the friends of the British government had denied. The hopes of the Americans were revived, and their spirits elevated ; they had a clear proof that their enemies were not invincible, and that union, courage, and perseverance, would insure success. 17 Battle Ground at Trenton. BATTLE OF PRINCETON. LTHOUGH General Cad- walader had not been able to pass the Delaware at the appointed time, yet, believing that General Washington was still on the Jersey side, on the 27th he crossed the river «=5KP^ BATTLE OF £EMIS' HEIGHTS, AND RETREAT OF BURGOYNE. FTER the battle of Stillwater, the safety of the British army lay only in retreat. It was un- able to advance ; to fall back on the lakes and return to Canada, although difficult, was not then impossible. But every hour lessened the probability of victory, and rendered retreat more impracticable. General Burgoyne, however, could not at once dismiss all the splendid visions of conquest and glory V- General Gates. BATTLE OF BEMIS' HEIGHTS. 245 which had so long dazzled his imagination ; and he flattered himself with the hope of a powerful co- operation on the side of New York, which had not. been concerted, and was not to happen. Under those delusions he lingered in his strong camp from the 20th of September till the 7th of October. During that interval daily skirmishes happened, which ac- customed the raw troops of America to the face of an enemy. General Gates, sensible that delay was in his favour, meditated no immediate attack on the hostile camp, but diligently took measures to prevent the escape of the royal army from the toils in which it was entangled. General Burgoyne's difficulties were great, and daily increasing. His army was reduced to five thousand regular troops ; his provisions were almost exhausted, and his men put on short allowance ; his horses were perishing for want of forage ; he was so environed by his enemy that he could procure no fresh supplies, and he had received no recent intel- ligence from Sir Henry Clinton. He could not long remain in the position which he then occupied, and he was not ignorant of the difficulty and danger of a retreat. In these circumstances, he resolved to try the fortune of another battle ; as a victory would enable him either to advance, or to retreat with safety. Accordingly, on the 7th of October, he led out fifteen hundred men, well provided with artillery, and, accompanied by Generals Philips, Reidesel, and Frazer, marched against Gates, leaving his camp on the high grounds under the care of Generals Hamilton and Specht, and the redoubts and posts 21* 246 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. adjacent to the river under General Gell. General Burgoyne's detachment had scarcely formed within about half a mile of the American intrenchments, when its left, where the grenadiers were posted, was furiously assailed. The Germans, who were on the right of the grenadiers, were also soon engaged. Three regiments, under General Arnold, proceeded to attack the right of the British detachment in front, while another division endeavoured to turn its flank and gain its rear. In order to frustrate this intention, General Frazer, with the light infantry and part of the 24th regiment, was ordered to cover the right ; but, while he was making a movement for that purpose, the left was overpowered and gave way. To save it from destruction, Frazer hastened to its assistance; but met with an American corps of riflemen, which briskly attacked him, and he was mortally wounded in the conflict. The whole royal detachment now gave way; and, with the loss of most of its artillery, retreated to the camp. The Americans closely pursued, and, under a tremendous fire of grape-shot and musketry, fiercely assaulted the works throughout their whole extent. Arnold, who conducted the assault, urged on his men ; but was ultimately repulsed by the British under the immediate orders of General Burgoyne, after having had his horse shot under him, and being wounded in the same leg which had been injured at Quebec. The left of the American detachment, under Colonel Brooks, was more successful. It turned the right of the royal encampment, stormed the works of the German re- serve, under Colonel Brehman, who was killed, and BATTLE OF BEMIS' HEIGHTS. 247 his troops retreated, with the loss of nil their artillery and camp equipage ; while Brooks maintained the ground which he had gained. Darkness, as on the 19th of September, put an end to the bloody conflict ; and the Americans lay all night on their arms, about half a mile from the lines, with the intention of renewing the assault in the morning. The advantage which they had gained was great. Without any considerable loss, they had killed many of the enemy, made upwards of two hundred prisoners, among whom were several officers of dis- tinction, taken nine pieces of brass artillery, all the baggage and camp equipage of a German brigade, obtained a large supply of ammunition, of which they stood much in need, and had entered the royal lines, and gained a position which threatened their rear. About midnight, General Lincoln with his division marched from the American camp to relieve the troops who had been engaged, and to occupy the ground which they had won. General Burgoyne's situation was now critical and distressing. Since he had come fairly into contact with his enemy he had met with an obstinacy of resist- ance and a vigour of attack wholly unexpected. In the late encounters, the Americans had shown them- selves a match for the best veteran troops, and capable of improving any advantage which they might obtain. Sensible, therefore, of the danger of encountering the events of next day on the ground which he then occu- pied, General Burgoyne resolved on a total change of position. Accordingly, in the course of the night, in a silent and orderly manner, and without any interrup- 248 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. tion from the Americans, he moved his camp to the hills, extending his right up the river. The entire change of front extricated him from the immediate danger with which he was threatened; and induced the Americans to make new dispositions. On the 8th, General Burgoyne made some attempts to provoke General Gates to attack him in the strong position which he had taken : but those attempts were ineffectual ; for General Gates, fully aware of his own advantages and of the difficulties to which his adver- sary was reduced, declined an immediate attack ; but was active in taking every precaution to prevent the escape of the royal army. He posted fourteen hun- dred men on the heights opposite the ford of Saratoga, and sent strong detachments to guard the fords higher up the river. The 8th of October was spent in skirmishing and cannonading. About sunset, the body of General Frazer, who had been mortally wounded on the pre- ceding day, was, agreeably to his own desire, carried up the hill, to be interred in the great redoubt, at- tended only by the officers who had lived in his family. Generals Burgoyne, Philips, and Reidesel, in testi- mony of respect and affection for their late brave companion in arms, joined the mournful procession, which necessarily passed in view of both armies. The incessant cannonade, the steady attitude and unfaltering voice of the chaplain, and the firm de- meanour of the company during the funeral service, though occasionally covered with the earth torn up by the shot from the hostile batteries ploughing the ground around them, the mute expression of feeling BURGOYNE'S RETREAT. 251 pictured on every countenance, and the increasing gloom of the evening, all contributed to give an affecting solemnity to the obsequies. General Gates afterwards declared, that if he had been apprised of what was going on, he would at least have silenced his batteries, and allowed the last offices of humanity to be performed without disturbance, or even have ordered minute-guns to be fired in honour of the deceased general. General Burgoyne being informed that an American column was advancing with the intention of gaining his right flank, resolved immediately to retreat to Saratoga, about ten miles up the river. He began his march about nine in the evening of the 8th, leaving behind him several boats loaded with pro- visions and baggage, and his hospital, containing about three hundred sick and wounded men, towards whom General Gates behaved with his usual hu- manity ; but the roads were so bad, and the heavy rain so incessant, that it was the evening of the next day before the British army, much fatigued, reached Saratoga; and it was not till the forenoon of the 10th that the rear passed the fords of Fishkill Creek, a little further north. On arriving at the ground which he intended to occupy, General Burgoyne found a party of the Americans already in possession of it; but on his approach they retreated, and joined their countrymen on the east of the river. CAPTURE OF FORTS CLINTON AND MONT- GOMERY. f*p HE attack on Forts Clinton and Montgomery, which had been delayed till the arrival of reinforcements from Europe, had been successfully made. The voyage of those reinforce- ments was tedious; but they arrived at New York in the end of September, and Sir Henry Clinton without delay embarked three thousand men in vessels of different descriptions, and, convoyed by some ships-of-war under Com- modore Hotham, sailed up the Hudson. Forts Clinton and Montgomery, against which the expedition was directed, were situated on high ground of difficult access, on the western bank of the river, about fifty miles above New York. They were sepa- rated by a rivulet, which, flowing from the hills, empties itself into the Hudson. Under cover of the guns, a boom was stretched across the river from bank to bank, and strengthened by an immense iron chain in front, as well as supported by chevaux-de-frise sunk behind it. Above this strong barrier, a frigate and galleys were V CAPTURE OF THE FORTS. 255 moored, so as to be able to direct a heavy fire against any vessels that might attempt to force a passage. This seemed to present an insuperable obstacle in the way of the British shipping towards Albany. Fort Inde- pendence stood four or five miles below, on a high point of land, on the opposite side of the river. Fort Constitution was six miles above the boom, on an island near the eastern bank: Peekskill, the head- quarters of the officer who commanded on the Hudson, from Kingsbridge to Albany, was just below Fort In- dependence, on the same side. General Putnam then held that command, and had about two thousand men under him. On the 5th of October Sir Henry Clinton landed at Verplanck's Point, a little below Peekskill, on the same side of the river. General Putnam, appre- hending that the enemy intended to attack Fort Independence, and to march through the highlands on the east of the river towards Albany, retired to the heights in his rear ; and, entertaining no suspicion of the real point of attack, neglected to strengthen the garrisons of the fort on the western bank. The British fleet moved higher up the river, in order to conceal what was passing at the place where the troops had landed ; and, on the evening of the day on which he had arrived at Verplanck's Point, Sir Henry Clinton embarked upwards of two thousand of his men, leaving the rest to guard that post. Early next morning he landed at Stony Point, on the west side of the river, and immediately began his march over the mountains towards the forts. The roads were difficult, and the enterprise perilous ; for 256 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. a small body of men, properly posted, might not only have arrested his progress, but repulsed him with much loss. He, however, reached the vicinity of the forts before he was discovered ; there he fell in with a patrole, who immediately retreated, and gave warning of the approaching danger. Between four and five on the afternoon of the 6th of October, the British appeared before the forts, which they summoned to surrender ; and, on receiving a refusal, instantly advanced under a heavy fire to the assault. Both forts, garrisoned by about six hundred men, were attacked at the same time ; Fort Montgomery, by Colonel Campbell at the head of nine hundred men ; and Fort Clinton, the stronger of the two posts, by Sir Henry Clinton with twelve hundred men. Fort Montgomery was soon taken ; but Colonel Campbell fell in the attack. Most of the garrison, favoured by the darkness and by their knowledge of the passes, made their escape. At Fort Clinton the resistance was more obstinate ; but that fort also was stormed, and a considerable number of the garrison killed or made prisoners. General Putnam had no suspicion of the real point of attack till he heard the firing, when he despatched five hundred men to the assistance of the garrisons ; but the forts were taken before they arrived, and consequently they returned to camp. In storming the forts, the British had about one hundred and fifty men killed or wounded. Besides Colonel Campbell, Captain Stewart, Major Still, and Count Grabousky, a Polish nobleman who served as a volunteer in the royal army, were among the slain. The Americans CAPTURE OF THE FORTS. 257 lost three hundred men in killed, wounded, and prisoners. The American vessels-of-war in the river, being unable to escape, were burnt by their crews, in order to prevent them from falling into the hands of the British, who removed the boom and chain, and opened the navigation of the river. Fort Inde- pendence was evacuated; and Fort Constitution, where the navigation was obstructed by a boom and chain, was also abandoned, without any attempt to defend it. The British proceeded up the river, destroying everything in their power. They ad- vanced to Esopus, which they laid in ashes; but proceeded no further. In this expedition they took or destroyed a large quantity of American stores. General Putnam retreated up the river, informed General Gates that he was unable to arrest the progress of the enemy, and advised him to prepare for the worst. But although his rear was threatened, General Gates was eager in improving the advantages he had gained over the British army, which was now reduced to the most distressing circumstances. 22* r SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. NDER the pressure of his misfortunes, General Bur- goyne, having been de- feated in his intention of repairing the road to Fort Edward, called a council of war, which adopted the desperate resolution of abandoning their baggage, artillery, and stores, and, with their arms only, and such provision as they could carry on their backs, marching in the night to Fort Edward, crossing the river at the ford there, or at one a little above it, and forcing their way to Fort George. The distance was only about thirty miles; but the SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 259 scouts who had been sent out to examine the route, reported that the two fords were already guarded by strong detachments provided with artillery, so that the resolution which had been taken could not be executed. In these hopeless circumstances, General Burgoyne again summoned his council of war, and, by the unanimous advice of the members, opened a cor- respondence with General Gates, on the 13th of Octo- ber j and, on the 16th, terms of capitulation were agreed on, by which it was stipulated that the troops under General Burgoyne should next day march out of their camp, with the honours of war, and the artil- lery of the intrenchments, and pile their arms at the verge of the river; that a free passage should be granted them to Great Britain, on condition of not serving in North America during the war, unless exchanged ; and that they should embark at Boston. To these a number of articles of less importance were added, relating to the property of the officers, Canadi- ans, and loyalists, the march of the troops though New England, and other similar points. On the 17th, the British army piled their arms agreeably to the capitu- lation. When the British army left Ticonderoga it con- sisted of about ten thousand men, exclusive of Indians ; but, by the casualties of war, and by desertion, it was reduced to about six thousand at the time of the sur- render. It contained six members of parliament. General Gates had then under his command upwards of nine thousand continentals and four thousand militia. On this occasion the Americans gained a remarkably fine train of brass artillery, amounting to forty pieces 260 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. of different descriptions, and all the arms and baggage of the troops. Such was the fate of that army which had excited high expectations in Britain, and which, at first, spread alarm and dismay throughout the United States of America. In consequence of the capitulation at Saratoga, the British were unable to retain possession of the forts on the lakes. They therefore destroyed the works of Ticonderoga and its dependencies, threw the heavy artillery into the lake, and retreated to Isle aux Noix and St. John's. Hi mlttl mitllmmliM. Silas Deune. THE TREATY WITH FRANCE. O EVENT could be more grati- fying to the Americans than the treaty with France. On the 16th of December, 1777, the preliminaries of a treaty between France and America were agreed on ; and the treaty itself was signed at Paris, on the 5th of Febru- ary, 1778, — an event of which the British ministry got information in little more than forty-eight hours after 262 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. the signatures were affixed. The principal articles of the treaty were, that if Britain, in consequence of the alliance, should commence hostilities against France, the two countries should mutually assist each other; that the independence of America should be effectually maintained ; that if any part of North America, still possessing allegiance to the crown of Britain, should be reduced by the colonies, it should belong to the United States ; that if France should conquer any of the British West India Islands, they should be deemed its property ; that the contracting parties should not lay down their arms till the inde- pendence of America was formally acknowledged, and that neither of them should conclude a peace without the consent of the other. Lord North's conciliatory bills reached America before the news of the French treaty, and excited in Congress considerable alarm. There were a number of loyalists in each of the colonies : many, though not unfriendly to the American cause, had never entered cordially into the quarrel ; and the heavy pressure of the war had begun to cool the zeal and exhaust the patience of some who had once been forward in their opposition to Britain. Congress became apprehensive lest a disposition should prevail to accept of the terms proposed by the British government, and the great body of the people be willing to resign the advantages of independence, in order to escape from present calamity. The American legislature referred the bills to a committee of their number, which, after an acute and severe examination, gave in a report, well calculated TREATY WITH FRANCE. 265 to counteract the effects which it was apprehended the bills would produce on the minds of the timid and wavering. They reported as their opinion, that it was the aim of those bills to create divisions in the states; and " that they were the sequel of that insidious plan, which, from the days of the stamp act down to the present time, hath involved this country in contention and bloodshed ; and that, as in other cases, so in this, although circumstances may at times force them to recede from their unjustifiable claims, there can be no doubt but they will, as heretofore, upon the first favour- able occasion, again display that lust of domination which hath rent in twain the mighty empire of Britain." They further reported it as their opinion, that any men, or body of men, who should presume to make any separate or partial convention or agreement with commissioners under the crown of Great Britain, should be considered and treated as open and avowed enemies of the United States. The committee further gave it as their opinion, that the United States could not hold any conference with the British commission- ers, unless Britain first withdrew her fleets and armies, or in positive and express terms acknowledged the independence of the states. While these things were going on, Mr. Silas Deane arrived from Paris, with the important and gratifying information that treaties of alliance and commerce had been concluded between France and the United States. This intelligence diffused a lively joy through- out America ; and was received by the people as the- 23 266 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. harbinger of their independence. The alliance had been long expected ; and the delays thrown in the way of its accomplishment had excited many uneasy appre- hensions. But these were now dissipated ; and, to the fond imaginations of the people, all the prospects of the United States were gilded with the cheering beams of prosperity. Like Penn's famous treaty with the Indians, that of the United States with the French government was destined to be faithfully observed. The misunderstanding which subsequently followed, was with the revolutionists who had over- thrown the ancient government. Death of Pulask ATTACK ON SAVANNAH AND DEATH OF PULASKI. O the American arms, the 9th of October, 1779, was a day of misery, dis- aster, and defeat. For five days, nine mortars and fifty-two cannon had poured their iron showers upon the English lines ; but now the allied ar- mies gathered their le- gions for a closer and more terrible struggle. Forty-five hundred men 268 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. arranged themselves in two columns, and moved to the attack. On the left o( the enemy's line was the flower o( the troops, led on by D'Estaing and Lincoln: the other column was led by Count Dillon; while a third movement was made against the enemy's centre and left, to attract attention, and press any advantage which might be derived from the assault on the left. The morning was dark and lowering. A dense mist bung over the city and river, shrouding the opposing forces from sinlit : while the thick, damp air, clogged with the exhalations of night, depressed each spirit as it contemplated the work before it. Under this thick cloud the Americans advance^ to the attack. Onward through thick darkness they move, with nothing to disturb the harrowing silence but their muffled tread. Led on by D'Estaing and Lincoln, the first column presses forward, until the enemy's fortifications, magnified through the sur- rounding mist, are dimly seen in the distance. They have advanced undiscovered ; but at that moment a fierv sheet flashes through the gloom, a roar like thunder follows, and iron showers are crushing and tearing among their ranks. Then there was a pause — the words of command rung out, the broken lines united, and the column moved on. Nearer and nearer they draw, until the frowning batteries of the enemv are distinctly seen. The artillery reopens, and the long lines reel and stagger before it. Yet still the two commanders hurry from point to point, the stern column recloses. the soldiers press on. Then the British open all their guns — full in front of the ATTACK OX SAVANNAH. 861 moving mass that dark fortification glares and thunders like a volcano, and troop and company wither before it. Yet over the uproar of battle the shouts of command rang along the line, and kept each man to duty. Fear had given way to callous in- difference — a stern resolution of vengeance. They sweep along under the iron hurricane, face the guns, and stretch forward to leap the parapet. In that terrible moment, while victory is oscillating in the balance, no one pauses to look for the other column — no one knows that it has been bewildered in the darkness, lost its path, and failed in co-operation. Those iron men leap the breastwork, plant their standards, and close with the foe. Xow began the fierce stru^rrle for conquest. The British were commanded at that point by the gallant Colonel Maitland, whose voice could drive the troops upon the hottest batten". Xow it rancr with thrilling energy along the battlements, and invited each soldier to his post. The cannon was hushed ; then a loud roll of musketry died away; then bayonet crossed with bayonet, and all was still. It was not the silence of repose or expectation — but of gloom and horror, and racking energy. At this moment the grenadiers and marines were brought up to charge the American flank. Full of ardour and resolution, these fresh troops poured upon our worried column, sweeping away all resistance, and hurling the former shouting victors into the ditches or through the abattis. Then they encountered the rear, and there was a period of wild and obstinate struggling. The commanders of France and America "23* 270 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. still called their broken legions round them, and vied with each other in feats of daring. Undismayed by- heavy loss, the troops closed with the enemy, and fought with a heroism unsurpassed in the annals of our country. At this critical moment, two hundred horsemen came dashing through the works, crushing and blasting everything that opposed them. The British commander grew dark at the sight, for he knew that Pulaski was heading that resistless avalanche. There was a moment of fearful excitement — of outcry and confusion ; then those furious riders swept on against the British rear. Pulaski sprung upward in his stir- rups, his sword flashing through the smoke of battle, and his terrible voice ringing like a spirit's through the stirring uproar. The next moment he fell from his horse, his bosom torn and shattered. Then a cry of horror went up to heaven, the iron hoof ceased its tramplings, the charge was stayed. Loud shouts went up from the British line, fresh troops poured in overwhelming torrents on the exhausted Americans, till slowly and sadly they commenced their retreat. Then the artillery reopened, tearing and scattering their drooping regiments until the camp was gained. Seven hundred Frenchmen, and two hundred and fifty Americans, were left dead and wounded around the works of Savannah. The retreat of the Americans was conducted in good order. No attempt to convert it into a rout was made by the British general, who, having gained his object, wisely refrained from hazarding by this measure the safety of the town and garrison. Being protected ATTACK ON SAVANNAH. 271 by skilfully constructed works, his total loss was but about one hundred in killed and wounded. In this attack, everything was done by the assail- ants which brave men could do. The darkness of the morning produced the loss of punctual combination between the columns, which unfortunate occurrence probably led to the repulse. The daring effort of Pulaski to retrieve the day, with his much regretted fall, presents additional proof of the high spirit which actuated the besiegers, and demonstrates that every difficulty was encountered, every danger braved, to crown the enterprise with success. The real causes of defeat are to be found in the character of the opera- tions previous to the assault. Storming of Stony Point, STORMING OF STONY POINT. ERHAPS the most brilliant event of our revolutionary struggle was the storming of Stony Point ; and indeed it has few equals in the whole history of offensive warfare. It was a source of as great astonishment to the British as of exultation to the Americans, and raised the character of our troops in the estimation of all Europe. As the position of the enemy at Stony Point ena- bled them to do much mischief, General Wayne re- quested of Washington permission to form a corps STORMING OF STONY POINT. 273 of light infantry, with which he should march against it. To this the commander agreed, and drew up for the intrepid general a plan of attack. Early on the evening of the 15th of July, Wayne arrived within a mile and a half of the fortress, and commenced a final reconnoissance. The steep hill that supported the fort, was washed on two sides by the Hudson, while on a third was a deep marsh. The only ascent was rugged and precipitous ; while high over all, as though defying the utmost efforts of the assailant, the fort commanded every advance, and was glittering with cannon and musketry. The evening was beautiful ; and as the cloudless heavens looked on that frowning height, and on the little band below, they formed strange contrast with the warring, jarring passions of man. The orders issued to the soldiers that night were in keeping with the stern and terrible nature of their duties. They were to march with empty muskets, utter no word, make no attempt at retreat under pain of death. And they were strictly obeyed — the as- sault was a triumph of military discipline. At half- past eleven, when all around was wrapped in slumber, the troops moved up in perfect silence. The army was divided into two columns, each preceded by twenty men acting as a forlorn hope. All command was given in a whisper; the tread of heavy columns was soft as falling snow ; and a stillness, more thrilling than the grave, brooded over their march. On arriving at the marsh, it was found flooded with water; but the officers waded through, followed by their troops. Then a sentry-gun broke amid the 274 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. gloom, followed by another and another. Our troops had been discovered. In a moment there was a rushing of confused preparation, of alarm-guns, and shouts of command ; the next instant the rock was blazing and heaving with artillery. But each soldier remembered his orders ; there was no more whis- pering orders ; Wayne's dreadful voice came pealing through the lines, and each soldier sprang forward through the withering sleet with renewed energy. Still those raging batteries poured down their blasts, and a sheet of livid fire leaped along the ramparts from six hundred muskets ; but over rocks and preci- pices, and dead and dying, the wildly shouting hero leads his men. The advance reach the parapet, and employ their picks and axes to open a passage ; man after man falls, yet silently they continue their work. Now the troops have gained the last ascent — but a little before them is the object of their dreadful labour. But the struggle to win it is terrible. The balls bore through and through their column, piling the dead and dying on every rock and every eminence. Wayne falls ; but supporting himself on one knee, he exclaims, " March on ! carry me into the fort, for I will die at the head of my column." Snatching him in their arms, they bore him to the rampart, and leaped among the enemy. The artillery ceased, and British valour recoiled before the iron shower that swept the breastwork. On, on through the fort the stern Ameri- cans charged, until the columns from either side met in the centre. Then the work of death was over; the fort was gained ; Wayne had triumphed : and one wild, uproarious shout told this and much more, as it STORMING OF STONY POINT. 275 was repeated again and again among those towering cliffs. In this assault the Americans lost sixty-three killed, and about forty wounded. General Wayne's wound in the head, believed at first to be mortal, proved but slight. The garrison had twenty killed and seventy-four wounded, including six officers. Our troops captured five hundred and forty-three soldiers and officers, besides a considerable quantity of ordnance and military stores. General Sullivan. GENERAL SULLIVAN'S CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE MOHAWKS. ]j? N sundry expeditions carried on against the Indians, du- ring the revolutionary war, ample vengeance had been taken on some of them ; but these partial successes pro- duced no lasting benefit. The few who escaped had it in their power to make thou- sands of our settlers miser- the permanent security of the frontier, SULLIVAN'S EXPEDITION. 279 it was resolved, in the year 1779, to carry a decisive expedition into the Indian country. Accordingly, a considerable body of continental troops was selected for this purpose, and placed under the command of General Sullivan. Upon receiving intelligence of this movement, the Indians collected their forces, upon advantageous ground, and fortified themselves with strength and precision. In the latter part of August, Sullivan arrived in the neighbourhood of their fort, having marched several hundred miles through an utter wilderness, and experienced hardships both numerous and formidable. The enemy were now in sight, but intrenched behind extensive works, from which no- thing could drive them but a fierce exterminating battle. On the 29th, battle was given. It was an action re- plete with ferocity and bloodshed. One by one, friend and foe were picked off, by the unerring rifle, while a wail of sorrow pierced lamentably through the dread confusion. Dashing the dead from their stations, the Indians stood by their defences with loud shouts, and for two hours defied every effort of their assail- ants. Exasperated by mutual outrages, each party fought with a desperation worthy of victory. But at length the discipline of regular troops prevailed. The works were reached, the trenches forced, and the savages obliged to flee on all sides. The consternation occasioned by this defeat, was so great that the Indians abandoned all their settle- ments, and fled towards Canada. General Sullivan advanced through rows of the richest corn fields, bloom- ing orchards, and thriving villages. Over these the with- 280 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. ering hand of retaliation was spread, and ruin and deso- lation blasted the labour of years. Towns and settle- ments were broken up, vegetation levelled with the ground, and all portable property captured. At night the glare of fire reflected from the sky, showed where the cottage was consuming ; while in the dis- tance the wretched red man was chafing in wild, but impotent fury, or casting one sad look on his ruined home. The quantity of corn destroyed was immense. Or- chards in which were several hundred fruit trees, were cut down — many of these had been planted for a number of years. The Indians were made to feel the calamities they had so often inflicted upon others ; and the sufferings they experienced, together with a fear of their repetition, should they recommence their depre- dations, rendered their invasions cautious and timid. Meanwhile (July 23d), a party of sixty Indians and twenty-seven whites, under the infamous Brandt, at- tacked the Minisink settlement, fired a fort, two mills, and a number of other dwellings, and carried off some prisoners and booty. About one hundred and fifty militia assembled and pursued them ; but acted with so little caution, that they were defeated by the Indians. Another defeat experienced by the Indians about this time, contributed, in no little degree, to prevent for a short time the numerous outbreaks which they had so long carried on. General Williamson and Colonel Pickens entered the Indian country adjacent to South Carolina, burned and destroyed the corn of eight towns, pursued the warriors from post to post, SULLIVAN'S EXPEDITION. 281 and finally insisted upon their removing immediately from their habitations into the more remote settle- ments. In 1781, the Cherokee Indians commenced hostili- ties in the district of Ninety-Six, burning some houses, and murdering several families. General Pickens promptly collected a party of three hundred and ninety-four horsemen ; and, after a march of fourteen days, arrived in their country. To the savages his progress was terrible. Forty were killed, a large number taken prisoners, and thirteen of their towns and villages destroyed. In this expedition, the troops fought in a manner altogether unique — the horsemen rushing forward on horseback, and charging the In- dians with drawn swords. This was the most rapid and decisive of all the in- vasions of the Indian country during the war. Not an American was killed, and but two wounded. The vanquished Cherokees sued for peace in the most sub- missive manner, promising to deliver to the United States all royalists who should hereafter instigate them to hostilities. Some other disturbances happened with various tribes, previous to the close of the war. The suffering produced in some of these was fearful. Not only warriors, but women and children were indiscrimi- nately massacred, and whole settlements involved in flames. Each party was a scourge to the other ; and war was rendered doubly distressing, by the dispersion of families, the breaking up of settlements, and a savage devastation of those objects which conduce to the comfort of life. 24* TARLETON'S QUARTERS. MMEDIATELY after the fall of Charleston (May 12th, 1780), Lieut. Colonel Bu- ford, commanding the remnant of the conti- nental force in the south, broke up his camp near Camden, and retired hastily toward North Carolina. At this time all who still adhered to the American cause were in alarm. The royalists over- ran the country ; British garrisons were stationed at every important post, and the lives and property of the patriots were in continual danger. At this time Cornwallis was near the Santee ; and having heard of Buford's precipitate retreat, de- termined to push a detachment after him. This command, consisting of one hundred and seventy cavalry, aided by one hundred mounted infantry, was intrusted to Lieutenant-Colonel Tarleton. This im- petuous officer entered upon his duty with alacrity; and fearing lest his prey should escape, hurried for- ward with the cavalry alone. One hundred and fifty miles were passed in fifty-four hours; while terror and flight ever preceded the approach of that fierce cavalry. On the 29th his jaded horses reached the friendly settlement of the Waxhaws, where Buford TARLETON'S QUARTERS. 285 with his force was stationed. Tarleton immediately demanded a surrender, on the same terms which had been offered to the garrison at Charleston. During the negotiation, Tarleton made preparations for an attack; and the moment a refusal was sent to his request, he ordered his cavalry to charge. The Americans were totally unprepared for battle, and beheld the coming of the furious horsemen with the wildest terror. Beneath that headlong charge, led by Tarleton himself, the ground trembled, and the militia sent up a cry of terror that echoed dreadfully along the plain. Before the first rude shock, man and horse and rider were flung to earth, mashed, distorted, lifeless. On those iron men drove, grinding the shrieking wretches into the sand, and over- throwing everything in their course. The cry for quarter rose above the ringing conflict ; but it was met by jeers, and imprecations, and fiendish laughter. Youth and age, the suppliant wailing on his knees, and the soul too proud, too patriotic to bend, went down together. Throbbing hearts that but an hour ago were bounding with youth and buoyancy, now were crushed from their bosoms by the charger's iron heel. Still the trampling, the shouting, the ringing of sabres, and life's last piteous appeal went up, and satiated the ear of Death with savage butchery. Riding backward and forward over the mangled companies, Tarleton glutted his eyes on the terrible spectacle, and cheered on his men to their work. The prayer for mercy was music to his ears; and his haughty eye grew more bright, more intensely thrilling, as he saw the blood of the helpless oozing 286 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. among the parched sands. Through and through the ranks were those horsemen driven, until their jaded steeds could no longer leap the piles of dead that obstructed their course. Gradually the battle shout was hushed, and low agonizing moans, with yells of insufferable anguish, grew more and more distinct. On that dreadful plain the taunts of the cruel Briton sharpened the horrors of the last mortal hour, and filled up the measure of that day's iniquity. Of four hundred American infantry engaged in this affair, but eighty or ninety escaped ; a few cavalry, under Colonel Bufofd, accompanied them. One hundred and thirteen were killed, one hundred and fifty so badly wounded as to be left on the ground, and fifty-three taken prisoners. Most of the wounded died upon the field. This tragic event filled the Americans with the utmost indignation, and afforded a precedent for many acts of retaliation which subsequently disgraced the proceedings of the Southern war. It was stigmatized by the appellation of Tarleton's Quarters, and caused the character of that officer to be held in universal abhorrence. i^S BATTLE OF CAMDEN AND DEATH OF DE KALB. HE defeat of Gates at Cam- den (August 16, 1780), was the most terrible of all the disasters experienced by our Southern army during the war of the Revolution. It annihilated the army, ruined the fame of its general, filled the country with alarm, and, but for the genius of Greene, would have won the Southern States to Great Britain. At dawn of day, the American artillery opened, and the left of the line, under General Stephens, was ordered to advance. Exhorting his soldiers to rely principally on the bayonet, this officer advanced with his accustomed intrepidity. Lieutenant-Colonel Otho Williams preceded him with a band of volunteers, in order to invite the fire of the enemy before they w r ere in reach of the militia, so that experience of its ineffi- ciency might encourage the latter to do their duty. Upon discovering this movement, the British general gave orders to Lieutenant-Colonel Webster to lead into battle with the right. That gallant officer entered upon his duties with his accustomed judgment and courage; and, in a few minutes, General Stephens had the mortification to observe his brigade flying before overpowering numbers. The North Carolina brigade followed the shameful example ; Stephens, Caswell, 25 T 290 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. Gates himself, struggled to stop the fugitives ; but every feeling was absorbed in a desire to preserve life. The only troops left to oppose the enemy, were the continentals, and Dixon's regiment of North Caroli- nians, of which every corps acted with the most de- termined resolution. Meanwhile, the Baron de Kalb, enveloped in the hottest of the battle, was struggling for victory on the right. A corps of the enemy who advanced against Lieutenant-Colonel Howard, were met and nobly driven out of line ; and for a moment victory inclined with the Americans. Then Lord Rawdon collected the strength of his wing and came down like an avalanche upon the brigade of General Gist. But, calling his little band around him, that officer pointed to the coming storm, and ordered each man to his post. For days and nights he had toiled with his brave Marylanders, in every hardship and every danger ; he had stood the hottest of the battle, and now, heedless of fatigue, he sternly awaited the living mass that was poured upon him. On they came — hun- dreds of muskets flashed before them, and their artillery tore and withered his ranks like a hurricane. Then came the fearful charge — and in a moment the disappointed foe were rolling back, repulsed, disheartened. High over the uproar, De Kalb's iron voice pealed along, and each soldier knew that victory or death was near. Again and again, Lord Rawdon rushed on the devoted brigade, while at each time a confused rush, a fearful silence, and then the hurryings of retreat, announced that patriotism was still triumphant. Chafing like a wounded lion, Rawdon dashed from point to point, BATTLE OF CAMDEN. 291 driving his worried legion on the foe ; while, on the other side, the voice of Gist, buoyant with hope and victory, thrilled the bosom of every American. Dense and resistless, his band commenced their onward move- ment, and the terrified British shrank at their ap- proach. But the moment of triumph was short. The flight of the militia on the other wing having left Colonel Webster unemployed, he detached some light troops with Tarleton's cavalry in pursuit, and opposed himself to the reserve brought up by Smallwood to replace the fugitives. The languor of repulse was succeeded by the renewed shock and terrible wrestling for victory. All alone, opposed to overwhelming num- bers, the Mary landers threw themselves into a square, and received the hurried rush of the enemy's artillery. Rank sunk down upon rank, until but a remnant was left. These the baron rallied around him, and, ignorant of Gates's disaster, prepared for a final effort. That charge was not the slow deliberate advance, when whole columns sink down before they reach the foe. It was hurled on the British like a whirlwind, sweeping away all resistance. Part of the enemy broke in confusion, with the loss of many prisoners. It was a moment of high hopes, and bounding exulta- tion — and but a moment. So inferior was the force of the Americans, that while Smallwood covered the flank of the second brigade, his left became exposed ; and Lieutenant-Colonel Webster, ever on the alert to seize an advantage, turned against this devoted flank his light infantry and the 23d regiment. But though almost surrounded by superior numbers, the first 292 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. brigade maintained the conflict until literally pushed from the ground. But the next moment they rallied, and advanced to the desperate struggle ; again they were driven back, and again rallied, rushing over bleed- ing masses, to the very bayonets of the enemy. Near them De Kalb, with his Maryland veterans, was fighting hand to hand with the disciplined hosts of Britain. At length Lord Cornwallis concentrated his forces, and ordered a decisive charge. Then there was a period of wild rushing, of confused uproar, and racking suspense. Even the tones of command died in the intensity of that terrible moment. Then the cloud of battle dispersed, and De Kalb had dis- appeared. Pierced with eleven wounds, he had fallen beneath the trampling armies. Long rows of bayo- nets sprang madly toward him ; but his aid, Lieu- tenant-Colonel du Buyssen, threw himself upon his friend, — and while crying out, " Spare the Baron de Kalb," received the keen weapon intended for his friend. Our troops were broken ; and after having wrestled all day against the flower of the enemy's army, were compelled to fly to the neighbouring woods and swamps. The pursuit was continued until not a fugitive could be seen ; the road was heaped with the dead and dying ; and arms, artillery, horses, and articles of baggage, were strewn in every direction. The baron was treated with every attention by the victors, but he survived the battle only a few days. His last moments were spent in dictating a letter DEATH OF DE KALB. 293 to General Smallwood, his successor in command, breathing in every word his sincere and ardent affection for officers and soldiers ; expressing his admiration of their late noble though unsuccessful stand; reciting the eulogy which their bravery had extorted from the enemy, and the lively delight which such testimony of their valour had excited in his own mind. Then, feeling the pressure of death, he ex- tended his quivering hand to his friend Du Buyssen, and breathed his last in benedictions on his faithful, brave division. 25* ARNOLD'S TREASON. HE most disgraceful event of the revolutionary war, and one which, but for its timely discovery, would have been productive of the most direful conse- quences, was the treason of General Arnold. Brave as was this officer, and capable, through his influence among the soldiers, of sweeping the hosts of a superior army like a whirl- ARNOLD'S TREASON. 295 wind, he yet possessed qualities of mind that tarnished most of his actions, and stamped him as a man dan- gerous alike to civil and military government. Proud, ambitious, unable to control his passions, he frequently became involved in difficulties from which he found it impossible to extricate himself. His extravagance and pomp of living were far beyond his means, and consequently he was often embarrassed in pecuniary concerns. These circumstances were aggravated by the neglect and ingratitude of Congress, who refused to bestow upon him that distinction which his great services merited, and which had been extended to officers inferior to him in even military accomplish- ment. The consequence was, deep rancour toward that body, a determination of revenge, and a discon- tent and heartlessness with the service. After the capture of Burgoyne, in which he acted a splendid part, he suddenly became inactive, and re- quested of Washington the command of West Point, a station of entire ease. This petition was urged in a manner so entirely in contrast with all his former conduct, as to excite astonishment in the commander, and even cause belief that Arnold was in jest. In order, therefore, to afford him an opportunity for mili- tary display, Washington gave him command of the left wing in the main army, during the excursion of Sir Henry Clinton up the Hudson. He continued, however, restless and dissatisfied, alleging inability for active duty on account of his wounded leg, and con- tinued his application for West Point. His request was then granted, and, in the summer of 1780, he took command of that important station. 296 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. Previous to this, Sir Henry Clinton had received letters through his aid, Major Andre, from an un- known correspondent, conveying important informa- tion relative to the American forces. After much reflection, he became convinced that the writer was no other than General Arnold. This conviction was strengthened, when, upon the latter taking command at West Point, Sir Henry received a proposal to deliver up a valuable portion of the American army to Great Britain. The affair had now assumed a complexion of the utmost importance ; and though the British commander managed his part with the utmost secrecy, yet he contrived to assure himself beyond doubt that his correspondent was General Arnold. West Point was at that time the most important military station held by the Americans. Besides containing a large amount of valuable military stores, provisions and vessels, it was the proposed depot of the French and continental armies during their in- tended attack upon New York, and the key of com- munication between the Middle and Northern States. It also commanded the navigation of the Hudson. By a surrender of this place to the British arms, a fine garrison and stores would be lost, the attack upon Sir Henry frustrated, the combination between Washington and Rochambeau rendered ineffective, and all intercourse with the north made hazardous if not impossible. Accordingly, Clinton determined to use every effort in order to accomplish events of so much magnitude. At the suggestion of Arnold, Major Andr6 was ARNOLD'S TREASON. 297 despatched across the Hudson for the purpose of having a personal interview with him, and arranging matters which could only be hinted at under the disguise of a mercantile correspondence. On the 21st of September he was conveyed from the Vulture sloop-of-war to Arnold's presence, and the plot, together with the necessary plan of operations, was matured. The conspirators were unable to finish the conference before morning; and in the meantime the Vulture was obliged to change its position, in consequence of being fired on by the Americans. During the whole of the 22d, therefore, Andre re- mained on the American side, and at last was totally unable to obtain conveyance across the river. Arnold then furnished him with a passport and horse, in order to reach New York by land, con- cealing in his boots important papers intended for Sir Henry Clinton. Leaving behind him his military coat, and accompanied by one Smith, who had hitherto been the dupe of Arnold's proceedings, he rode to King's Ferry, crossed the river from Stony Point to Verplanck's Point, and pushed on toward the White Plains. After passing several parties, Smith left his companion, and the latter pursued his journey alone. Instead, however, of pursuing his original route across the White Plains, he moved off toward the Hudson river, and entered the Tarrytown road. The region in which Andre was now travelling, had lately become notorious on account of the frequent plunderings from parties on both sides, which left no security to either person or property. Several young men had been on the alert to arrest some of these 298 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. marauders, dividing themselves into small parties, and remaining concealed among the woods or bushes. When near Tarrytown, Andre was stopped by three of these, and instead of immediately showing his pass ? he commenced a hurried conversation with them, which resulted in his capture. The particulars of this affair were given in their subsequent evidence during the trial of that unfortunate officer, of which the following are extracts. "Myself (John Paulding), Isaac Van Wert, and David Williams, were lying by the side of the road about half a mile above Tarrytown, and about fifteen miles above King's Bridge, on Saturday morning between nine and ten o'clock, the 23d of September. We had lain there about an hour and a half, as near as I can recollect, and saw several persons we were acquainted with, whom we let pass. Presently one of the young men who were with me said, ' There comes a gentlemanly-looking man, who appears to be well dressed, and has boots on, and whom you had better step out and stop, if you don't know him.' On that I got up, and presented my firelock at the breast of the person, and told him to stand. Then I asked him which way he was going. 'Gentlemen,' said he, 'I hope you belong to our party.' I asked him what party ; and he replied, ' The lower.' I told him I did, and he said, 'I am a British officer out of the country on particular business, and I hope you will not detain me a minute.' To show he was a British officer, he pulled out his watch, when I told him to dismount. He then said, 'My God, I must do anything to get along,' and seemed to make a kind of laugh of it, and pulled ARNOLD'S TREASON. 299 Capture of And rfe. out General Arnold's pass, which was to John Ander- son, to pass all guards to White Plains, and below. Upon that he dismounted. Said he, ' Gentlemen, you had best let me go, or you will bring yourselves into trouble ; for your stopping me will detain the general's business. I am going to Dobb's Ferry, to meet a person there, and get intelligence for General Arnold.' Upon that I told him not to be offended, that we did not mean to take anything from him ; and I told him there were many bad people going along the road, and I did not know but perhaps he might be one." " We took him into the bushes," said David Wil- liams, in his evidence, "and ordered him to pull off his clothes, which he did ; but, on searching him narrowly, we could not find any sort of writings. We told him 300 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. to pull off his boots, which he seemed to be indifferent about ; but we got one boot off, and searched in that boot, and could find nothing ; but we found that there were some papers in the bottom of his stocking, next to his foot, on which we made him pull his stocking off, and found three papers wrapped up. Mr. Paulding looked at the contents, and said he was a spy. We then made him pull off his other boot, and there we found three more papers at the bottom of his foot, within his stocking. "Upon this, we made him dress himself, and I asked him what he would give us to let him go. He said he would give us any sum of money. I asked him whether he would give us his horse, saddle, bridle, watch, and one hundred guineas. He said, 'Yes ;' and told us he would direct them to any place that we might pitch upon, so that we might get it. Mr. Paulding answered, ' No ! if you would give us ten thousand guineas, you shall not stir one step.' I then asked the person who had called himself John Ander- son, if he would not get away if it lay in his power, and he answered that he would. I told him that I did not intend he should. While taking him along, we asked him a few questions, and we stopped under a shade. He begged us not to ask him questions, and said when he would come to any commander he would reveal all." There can be little doubt that, had Andre showed his pass immediately on being arrested, he would have been permitted to continue his journey. His neglect to do so will appear the more excusable, when we re- member that he was now near Clinton's head-quarters, ARNOLD'S TREASON. 301 and that he had been informed on the previous even- ing of a large party of British marauders being near Tarrytown ; and, in consequence of this very informa- tion, he had changed his route in the morning. Andre was conveyed by his captors to North Castle, where a party of dragoons was stationed under Lieutenant-Colonel Jameson. The six papers found about his person were also delivered to that officer. These were writings of the utmost importance, de- fining the force and positions of the garrison; a return of th'e different forts, batteries, &c. ; detached sketches of Washington's designs during the remainder of the campaign ; with other valuable information. Lieutenant-Colonel Jameson acted in a manner both foolish and reprehensible. The captured papers were in Arnold's hand-writing, with which he was well acquainted, and contained most indubitable marks of treachery; yet he determined to send his prisoner to Arnold, together with a letter, detailing the circumstances of his arrest. Washington observed subsequently that, in consequence either of his " egre- gious folly, or bewildered conception, he seemed lost in astonishment, and not to know what he was doing." Andre" was accordingly despatched towards West Point ; while the papers found about his person, were sent by express to General Washington. Immediately after the departure of the prisoner, Major Tallmadge, second in command, arrived at North Castle, from an excursion to White Plains ; and on being informed of what had transpired, expressed his utter astonishment at the conduct of his superior. The representations of the major had no other effect with Jameson, than the 26 302 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. obtaining of an order for Andre's return to North Castle ; yet the notice to Arnold was still permitted to proceed. Andre was brought back to Jameson's quarters before daylight of the following morning. It was de- termined to send him to Lower Salem, a place of greater security than North Castle, and the head-quar- ters of Colonel Sheldon. He was escorted by Major Tallmadge, and on arriving at the colonel's station, requested permission to write a letter to General Washington. In this he declared his real name and station, gave the reasons of his being within the Amer- ican lines, with the circumstances of his capture, and asked permission to write to Sir Henry Clinton. Not a word was said of Arnold, or that could in the least involve any one in the conspiracy. Before folding the letter, he presented it to Major Tallmadge, who perused it with the strongest emotion. The first sight of Andre had convinced him of his being a military man ; but he had not imagined him to be an officer of such high rank. His former suspicions of Arnold's fidelity were now strengthened, and the folly of Colonel Jameson rendered more inexplicable than ever. Jameson's want of sagacity was the the first cause of Arnold's escape ; but there were several others, and 'indeed, so fortu- nately did circumstances combine in his favour, as to appear little less than miraculous. On the 24th of September, General Washington arrived within eighteen miles of West Point, and after stopping to partake of some refreshment, rode forward until within three miles of Arnold's head-quarters. Here he unex- pectedly met with the French minister, Monsieur de la ARNOLD'S TREASON. 303 Luzerne, who prevailed on him to return to his place of stoppage (Fishkill), for the purpose of laying before him matters of importance. This prevented him from reaching West Point that evening, as he had intended. On the following morning, Washington, accom- panied by La Fayette, and other officers, set out for Arnold's quarters; but on the road the commander seems to have changed his mind, and turned his horse toward the river. Thinking this to be a mistake, La Fayette said, " General, you are going in a wrong direction ; you know Mrs. Arnold is waiting breakfast for us, and that road will take us out of our way." Washington replied in a playful manner, stating that he wished to see the redoubts on the river, but gave the party permission to proceed to Arnold's station. This they declined, and accompanied the general, after sending two aids to apprise their host of the change of intention. Slight as was this incident, it probably saved Arnold. While his family and the two aids were at breakfast, Jameson's letter arrived, giving the stunning intelligence of Andre's capture. It was a moment of terrible feeling ; yet, so perfectly was Arnold master of himself, that while reading it he betrayed no unusual excitement. Informing the aids that a sudden and unexpected event required his presence at West Point, he rose hastily from the table, ordered a horse, and retired to Mrs. Arnold's apartment. He then sent for her, and revealed the plot, telling her they must part for ever, since his life depended on his escape to the enemy. She immediately fainted ; but, 304 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. reckless of everything in the wild hurry for life, he left her senseless, rushed from the house, mounted his horse, and dashed toward the Hudson. Here he found a boat containing six men, whom he ordered to row as for life, telling them that he was bearing a flag of truce, and wished to get back in time to meet General Washington. By displaying a white hand- kerchief, Arnold escaped the suspicions of both British and Americans, and reached the Vulture in safety. He was mean and cruel enough to detain as prisoners the men to whom he owed his life; but on their arrival at New York, they were set at liberty by Sir Henry Clinton. Meanwhile, Washington arrived at Arnold's house ; and ascertaining that he had gone to West Point, he hurried breakfast, and, accompanied by all the officers except Hamilton, set out for the fort. As he drew near the shore with his barge, the officers ex- pected to hear Arnold's cannon by way of salute ; but all was silent. Their astonishment was increased when the commandant hurried to the shore, and began to apologize for not making any preparations to receive such distinguished visiters, as he had been totally ignorant of their approach. " How is this, sir ?" replied Washington ; " is not General Arnold here ?" " No, sir ; he has not been here these two days, nor have I heard from him within that time." Astonished at this unexpected intelligence, Wash- ington entered the fort, and though evidently waiting for Arnold, commenced a review of the works. After spending more than an hour in this manner, he re- entered the barge, and set out for Robinson's house. ARNOLD'S TREASON. 305 On the way they were met by Hamilton, who took the commander aside, and spoke to him in a quick hurried tone. Those few hurried words were of fearful power, fraught with the news of Arnold's treason. The bearer of Jameson's despatches had missed Washington, in consequence of the latter changing his route. On reaching Robinson's house he handed them to Colonel Hamilton, with the remark that they contained intelligence of the utmost importance. That officer opened them, and, on discovering their contents, rode immediately to meet the commander. On perusing the papers, Washington ordered Hamilton to ride with all haste to Verplanck's Point, to arrest Arnold, if possible, before he could cross the river ; and then calling La Fayette and Knox, he calmly disclosed to them the conspiracy, merely re- marking — " Whom can we trust now ?" The same dignity and forbearance characterized him throughout the day. When dinner was announced, he took the head of the table, and said — "Come, gentlemen; since Mrs. Arnold is unwell, and the general is absent, let us sit down without ceremony." Meanwhile, the situation of Mrs. Arnold was truly deplorable. " For a considerable time," says Hamilton, " she entirely lost herself. The general (Washington) went to see her, and she upbraided him with being in a plot to murder her child. One moment she raved, and then she melted into tears. Sometimes she pressed her infant to her bosom, and lamented its fate, occasioned by the imprudence of its father, in a manner that would have pierced insensibility itself. All the sweetness of beauty, all the loveliness of. 26* u 306 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. innocence, all the tenderness of a wife, and all the fondness of a mother, showed themselves in her appearance and conduct. We have every reason to believe that she was entirely unacquainted with the plan, and that the first knowledge of it was when Arnold went to tell her he must banish himself from his country, and from her, for ever. She instantly fell into convulsions, and he left her in that situation." The arrest of Andre entirely frustrated the conspi- racy ; and though Arnold made good his escape, and everything was in readiness for an immediate attack upon West Point, yet far from attempting it, the British commander turned his whole attention to the safety of his friend. Hamilton received a letter from Arnold to Washington, boasting of his rectitude of in- tention, and requesting that Mrs. Arnold might be at- tended to. It was accompanied by another from one Beverly Robinson, on board the Vulture, request- ing the release of Andre. After writing to Greene to advance with the left wing of the army, and taking other precautionary measures, orders were sent to Colonel Jameson to despatch Andre to Robinson's house. He arrived there on the 26th of September, under the care of Major Tallmadge, having travelled all night through a heavy rain. He was subsequently removed to Tappan. On the 29th, Washington summoned a court of in- quiry, to investigate the subject of Andre's capture, and report their opinion concerning him. It was com- posed of six major-generals, eight brigadiers, and General Greene as president. All necessary docu- ments were laid before them, and every effort made ARNOLD'S TREASON. 307 by the commander-in-chief to insure a correct and unbiassed verdict. After the names of the officers had been read to him, Andre was informed that it was optional with him to answer any question which might be asked, and that he might have his own time to reflect upon them. After having acknowledged .the identity of certain papers with those found about his person when captured, and also given the board a short account of the circumstances attending his landing from the Vulture, he was asked whether he considered himself as having acted under a flag. He replied that it was "impossible for him to suppose, that he came on shore under the sanction of a flag," adding, " that if he came on shore under that sanction, he might certainly have returned under it." His whole behaviour throughout the investigation was open, dignified, and manly ; he offered no excuse, not even a palliating remark for his conduct; and on being asked at the close if he had anything to remark, he replied in the negative. The hearing was long and tedious, and after a careful summary of all the facts presented to them, the board arrived at the conclusion " that Major Andre, adjutant-general to the British army, ought to be considered as a spy from the enemy, and that agreeably to the laws and usages of nations, it is their opinion he ought to suffer death." In this opinion Washington concurred, and appointed five o'clock, P. M., October 1st, as the time of execution. On that day, however, a last effort was made by Sir Henry Clinton to save his friend. He informed Washington that a committee of gentlemen would 308 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. be sent from the army to confer with him, and present facts to prove the major's innocence. Only one of these deputies (General Robertson), was permitted to come on shore. He was met by General Greene on the part of Washington, every exertion Avas made to prove that Andre was not a spy, and to influence the feelings of the American commissioner in his behalf. A letter was presented from Arnold to General Wash- ington, and Robertson further offered to refer the decision of Andre's true position to General Knyp- hausen and Count Rochambeau. Greene listened with the deepest attention, promising to lay these views before General Washington ; and Robertson seems to have believed that he had effected his pur- pose, as he immediately wrote to Clinton that Andre would not be harmed. In the morning he was stunned by the intelligence from Greene, that after weighing the facts presented during the conversation, Washing- ton's opinion was still unchanged. All efforts to ameliorate Andre's fate having failed, he was executed on the 2d of October, 1780. In the morning he received the communication of his fate without emotion, and while all present were affected with gloom, his mind was composed, and his counte- nance firm. When his servant entered in tears, he exclaimed, " Leave me, till you can show yourself more manly." His breakfast being sent him from Washington's table, as had been done every day of his confinement, he partook of it as usual, and having shaved and dressed himself, he said to the guard offi- cers, " I am ready at any moment, gentlemen, to wait on you." He then walked from the house, arm in arm ARNOLD'S TREASON. 309 with two subaltern officers. A large detachment of troops was paraded, amid an immense concourse of people. Nearly all the general and field-officers were present on horseback, except General Washington and staff. Gloom and melancholy pervaded all ranks, and the scene was deeply affecting. The major betrayed no want of fortitude, retaining a complacent countenance, and occasionally bowing to gentlemen whom he knew. The method of his death had been concealed from him until the last moment ; for although in a touching letter he had requested to be shot, yet Washington wished not to wound his feelings by informing him the request could not be granted. When in sight of the gallows, he involuntarily started; but recovered himself, with the remark — " I am reconciled to my death, but I detest the mode." While stepping into the wagon, he appeared to falter for a moment ; but suddenly rallying himself, he exclaimed, " It will be but a momentary pang ;" and taking from his pocket two white handkerchiefs, he tied one over his eyes, and permitted his hands to be pinioned with the other. The rope being appended to the gallows, he slipped the noose over his head, and adjusted it to his neck without the aid of the executioner. Colonel Scammel now informed him that he had an oppor- tunity to speak ; when, raising the bandage from his eyes, he said — " I pray you to bear me witness, that I meet my fate like a brave man !" — then, readjusting the handkerchief, the wagon was removed, and after a momentary pang the gallant and accomplished Andre was no more. 310 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. At his death Major Andre was about twenty-nine years of age, well-proportioned, tall, and graceful, with a countenance indicative of amiability and intelligence. His talents were of a highly respectable order, and being cultivated in early life, he had become proficient in literary and other attainments. As an officer he was skilful, brave, and enterprising, and is reported to have been humane to the American prisoners in New York. The main spring of his actions, the sole object of his youthful aspirations, was military glory ; and he was advancing rapidly in the gratification of his ambitious views, when a misguided zeal blasted all prospects, and stained him as the victim of a traitor's guile. The heart of sensibility mourns when a life of so much worth is sacrificed on a gibbet ; yet was it in strict accordance with the laws of war, by which every spy is doomed to the gallows. The circumstances attending the entrance of Andre into the army, heightens the sympathy oc- casioned by his fate. In early life he had become enamoured of a young lady, who returned his affection, and agreed upon marriage. This, however, was frus- trated by the opposition of her father, and four years afterward she married with another gentleman. This was a terrible blow to Andre. He had ever kept her picture about his person, and hoped that time would at length unite them ; but now his happiness was blasted for ever, and he resolved to join the army. In 1775 he was taken prisoner by Montgomery, at St. John's, and deprived of everything except the picture of his Honora, executed by his own hand, and which he concealed in his mouth. He met with various ARNOLD'S TREASON. 311 adventures, until exchanged, when he joined the family of Sir Henry Clinton, by whom he was greatly es- teemed. While awaiting execution, he requested of Sir Henry Clinton that his commission might be sold for the benefit of his mother and sisters. This was immediately done by his friend, who also petitioned the king in the most faithful manner, that something further might be granted to these bereaved relatives. The monarch granted a pension to his parent, and the order of knighthood to his mother. Arnold received the stipulated reward of his treachery, being appointed colonel of a regiment in the British service with the rank of brigadier-general, and receiving six thousand three hundred and fifty pounds sterling. Captain Biddle. THE LOSS OF THE RANDOLPH. HE name of Capt. Nicholas Biddle will ever stand con- spicuous on our military journals, not only as that of a man among the first of our patriotic seamen, but as distinguished alike for his brilliant successes, LOSS OF THE RANDOLPH. 315 and his tragic end. During the early part of the Revolution, he performed the greatest service in cap- turing British merchantmen ; and for the rapidity and success with which he managed all such affairs, he had acquired a decided superiority among all our naval officers. In February, 1777, he sailed from Charleston with three hundred and five men, in the frigate Randolph, of thirty-six guns, and accompanied by the smaller vessels Polly, Fair American, General Moultrie, and Notre Dame. On the evening of the 7th of March, he was descried by the British ship Yarmouth, of seventy-four guns, commanded by Captain Vincent. At nine o'clock the latter came up with the Randolph,, and ordered her to hoist colors, or he would fire, Biddle ran up the American flag, and poured a broad- side into his enemy, which was immediately returned. The stirring scene of a naval action by night now commenced. Not knowing the strength of his ad- versary, Captain Biddle poured forth one broadside after another of heavy ordnance, which the British commander, confident of victory, answered. It was a sight wild and imposing. The thick, curtain-like darkness, would suddenly be broken by a quick sheet of flame, then a dazzling meteor flew from ship to ship, sparkling and whizzing in the air, and then crashing through masts, spars, and timber. The surges dashed and foamed under the stunning reports, and each vessel reeled heavily amid the pitchy night. Then one low, stifled wail would come riding through the interim of confusion, with a strange unearthly 316 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. tone, that jarred discordantly with the uproar of battle. Soon after the commencement of the action, Captain Biddle was wounded in the leg. Instead of retiring, he called for a chair, and seating himself amid the havoc around, exhorted his men to their duty. Nobly did they fulfil it. Three broadsides were fired by the Randolph to one of the Yarmouth, and during the greater part of the action she appeared in an entire blaze. For a few minutes the captain and crew of the Fair American believed that the enemy were on fire, and bore down to salute their commander. This brilliant commencement was succeeded by a fearful end. The Randolph blew up with an explosion that shook the air for miles around, scattering deck, spars, and mangled limbs, far abroad among the waters. Of that gallant captain and his crew nothing more was ever seen. Four men clung to a piece of wreck, on which they floated for four days, subsisting on rain-water, which they sucked from a piece of blanket. These men were picked up by Captain Vincent, and treated by him with the greatest at- tention and kindness. The Yarmouth was so much injured in the action, as to be unable to pursue the small ships of the squadron, which accordingly made their escape. Captain Biddle was twenty-seven years old at the time of his death, and had given ample promise of one day becoming a bright ornament to his profession. Notwithstanding his disparity of force, he would pro- LOSS OF THE RANDOLPH 317 bably have escaped, but for the unfortunate explosion; for the British ship was in a shattered condition at the close of the action. But one of the other ships took an active part, and it was placed»in so unfavourable a position as to inflict as much injury upon the Ran- dolph, as upon her adversary. THE BRITISH PRISON-SHIPS. N many instances during their wars with the United States, the British have behaved with a degree of cruelty and ferocity, which must ever stamp their character with a heartlessness, suitable only for the savage. This was the case, in an especial manner, during the revolutionary contest, when they considered themselves warring against rebel mobs, entitled to no respect and no quarter. Even when the stormy battle had rolled by, and the passions had had time to subside, the ran- cour of established malice broke forth upon the unfor- tunate ones, whom the vicissitudes of war had placed BRITISH PRISON-SHIPS. 321 in their hands. In all countries and armies, prisoners of war have a just claim on the duties of humanity. From the moment of their capture, the sword should be sheathed; hostilities should cease. Being them- selves disarmed, no arm can of right be lifted against them ; but while they conduct themselves in a manner becoming their condition, they are entitled to lenient treatment, and every necessary comfort. To obtain a correct idea of the situation of the prisoners in British ships, we must imagine them torn from home, from the felicity of health, comfort, and domestic enjoyment, in the very prime of life, and when the mind was buoyant with wild dreams of hope and ambition. They had gazed on the prospect of liberty, on the blessings it would bestow upon their trampled country, until the fervour of patriotism thrilled their bosoms ; and they rushed to the battle- field in order to wrestle and suffer for the glorious treasure. They were the men who had sternly faced death at Lexington and Concord, and drove back the emissaries of oppression before their withering fire. But the price of victory was to be paid. They were captured, one by one, party by party, some at Boston, some at their homes, and others by the quiet road- side. They were eagerly seized by the minions of Bri- tain, and hurried to General Howe, at New York. Here every sympathy turned from them. Friends who had smiled in happier hours now frowned with scornful ven- geance ; and a traitor's name, precursor of a traitor's fate, followed their weary journey. Without trial or hearing, they were packed in the holds of vessels, pri- sons of the vilest of the vile, of the felon and midnight 322 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. assassin. The atmosphere of these awful abodes, thick and dark with stagnation, and blazing with the fires of dissolution, insinuated itself among the delicate textures of vitality, and at the first inspiration blasted health and spirits. Here, amid utter darkness, com- pany after company of those brave young spirits, the unfortunate defenders of their country's liberty, were crowded, and the doors closed. Then arose a scene at which humanity shudders. Accustomed to active movements in the open air, some sank at once amid heaps of putrefaction, and expired. Others crowded and crushed toward the air-holes, withering their last energies in fruitless efforts. Some sat down and wept ; while in another place a convict would smile in demo- niac despair at the vain exertions which he himself had so often tested. In a few hours disease and fever commenced their work, and the sufferings were terrible beyond description. Here and there were wretches moaning for water, while shrieks, imprecations, and the howlings of agony, mingled in one frightful uproar. Amid the dead and dying, a hw bowed down their heads and wept for home ; and then that same deep meaning word of home came wildly out amid the ravings of the maniac. Hearts that had nerved up against all suffering until that word was pronounced, now were crushed and broken. Gradually they sank down, the dying and the dead together. In the last wild struggle with death, the groaning spirit prayed and agonized for one gasp of air, one ray of light. The wretch tossed and foamed amid putrid bodies, while suffocation stifled his utterance, and the fevered blood tore and rattled along his shattered lungs. Afar BRITISH PRISON-SHIPS. 323 from this scene the cheering heavens were making to the giddy world the changes of night and day ; but no night, no day visited the American sufferers. Lor seventy-five hours many lay in those charnel-houses amid every variety of misery, without having one drop of water or a particle of bread. In a few weeks fifteen hundred died. Their bodies were dragged from the ships, and placed in piles, each about large enough to fill a cart. One pile after another was dragged away, thrown into ditches, and covered with mud and offal. Over that grave no sister was present to weep, nor clergyman to dedicate the soul to heaven. Youth and manliness, and early pride, and the high throbbings of manhood's early dream, were there buried in dis- grace, and buried for ever, because they had been devoted to freedom. For want of opportunity, some of the prisoners were not treated quite so rigorously. There being a scarcity of prison-ships, these were placed in ruined churches, dilapidated dwellings, and open sugar- houses ; where, in consequence of the deficiency of roofing, it was impossible to deprive them of fresh air. Still, without fire, and almost without clothing, they were exposed to piercing cold, heavy rains, hunger and thirst. These bodily sufferings were augmented by the insult and tantalization of British officers, who pronounced them the just punishment of rebellion. These honourable assurances were seconded by the tories, whose common language was: " You have not yet received all you deserve, nor half you shall receive ; but if you will enlist in his majesty's service, you shall have victuals and clothing 324 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. enough." In one instance, four wounded American officers of respectable rank were placed in a common cart, and paraded through the streets as objects of derision, amid the jeers of the beholders. Such were the sufferings of the American captives in the commencement of the struggle for independence. Menaced by hostile armies, and threatened with the halter, they rose to maintain their rights. Citizens as they were, they commenced their preparation for a campaign on the battle-field; and, after rolling back the enemy, prepared to follow up their victory. When captured, they were offered life and affluence to forsake their cause ; but scornfully refused, and marched to prison and slavery with proud independence. The sequel has been told. Now no monumental epitaph marks their graves, nor have even their names been handed to us. Yet with them were buried the hopes and happiness of families, the long-cherished ex- pectations of parents and relatives ; and their fearful sufferings have stamped their oppressors with ever- lasting infamy. Commodore Jones. CAPTURE OF THE SERAPIS. jjjJI^N the 17th of September, 1778, Commodore Paul Jones, with the two ves- sels, Bon Homme Richard, and Pallas, came in sight of a fleet of merchantmen, escorted by the Serapis, and Countess of Scarbo- rough. At seven in the evening, after a tedious 28 326 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. chase, Jones, in the Bon Homme Richard, was hailed by the commander of the Serapis, when within pistol- shot, and immediately answered by a whole broadside. He then ran his ship across the enemy's bow, seized the bowsprit with his own hands, and lashed both vessels together. Sails, yards, rigging, all became eventually entangled, and the opposing cannon touched each others' muzzles. In that fearful position was fought one of the most terrible battles on naval record. The batteries of each vessel now opened. Red- hot iron flew through and through the hulls, tearing everything in their maddening course. The water broke and dashed around them, and then rolled off in glittering waves, until lost'in the surrounding dark- ness. But, like the hurried shock of two thunder- clouds, those ships clung to each other, pouring sheets of widening flame along their sides, and strewing each deck with mangled victims. One by one the Ameri- can batteries became useless, until but three cannon were fit for service. Every gun of the British was in full blast. But the iron heart of the bold sailor could not yield. Pacing on deck, from point to point, he shouted his men to their duty. Showers of death were shrieking around him, and spar after spar went down in crashing ruin. Yet still, over all that uproar, and over the groans of agony, and thunder of battle, his voice pealed like a spectre's, and sternly bound his men to duty. The waves were rushing in at every seam, until the pumps were useless, and then one appalling cry of^re, told that long resistance was impossible. Jones gazed around. On every side ■HurflHIMiii CAPTURE OF THE SERAPIS. 329 smothered flames were struggling to break forth. Yet on, on, like a fretted tiger, he spurned along that shattered deck, his arms folded, his face like rigid iron, and his stern shout ringing fearfully through the darkness. Once only did he pause. Three under officers, overcome by the awful scene, had called to the British commander, who now demanded if Jones had struck. " No," was the response ; and the conflict reopened. During all this time, the soft rays of the full moon were sleeping on the rippling water, mellowing every- thing beneath their silvery shroud. Hundreds and thousands of spectators gazed in breathless and struck wonder, at the uproar on the waters; men of ordinary mould grew pale and nervous, at the spirit-like wres- tlings of giant souls. At half past nine o'clock, another ship hove in sight. It was the Alliance, a vessel lately deserted from Jones's squadron. Joy was diffused over the gallant crew — but it was of short duration. A broadside came rush- ing over the waters, splitting and rending the stern ofj Jones's vessel. He called to them for God's sake to forbear; but the false one swept like lightning through the waters, hurling shot after shot at the devoted ship, killing and wounding the men, and opening leaks in every direction. Cries vf fear and despair rose from the little crew ; the master at arms turned loose all the prisoners; and the officers crowded around their com- mander, praying him to surrender. But with startling energy he stamped on the burning deck, and ordered each man to his post. Then the calmness of sub- dued energy returned, his voice again rang out, and 28* 330 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. his men forgot to fear. Gradually the British fire slackened, their mainmast began to shake, and at half past ten they struck. Scarcely was there time to transport the wounded to the prize, when the Bon Homme Richard sank. The Serapis was herself on fire, and had five feet of water in the hold. " A per- son," says Jones himself, " must have been an eye- witness to form a just idea of the tremendous scene of carnage, wreck, and ruin, which everywhere appeared. Humanity cannot but recoil from the prospect of such finished horror, and lament that war should be capable of producing such fatal consequences." The Serapis was a new ship of forty-four guns, constructed in the most approved manner, with two complete batteries; one of them eighteen-pounders. She was commanded by Commodore Richard Pearson. PUTNAM'S FEAT AT HORSENECK. URING the invasion of Connecticut by Governor Tryon, General Putnam, with the main body of his force, was stationed at Reading, in that state. On one occasion, while superintending a picket of one hundred and fifty men at Horseneck, he was suddenly surprised by a body of fifteen hundred troops, both cavalry and infantry, led by Tryon himself. His situation was perilous. The picket were on the brow of a hill, so steep that nearly one 332 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. hundred steps had been cut in its sides for the accommodation of foot passengers. On each side of this steep path was a swamp impervious to cavalry. Undismayed by the vastly superior force of his opponent, Putnam drew up his little band in front of the morass, and, exhorting them to be cool and fearless, he commenced a cannonade of the enemy with two small field-pieces. Enveloped in flame and smoke, that iron heart bore up against the fearful odds, and moved like a giant spirit amid his faithful followers. For a little while the British were fairly held at bay ; while the Americans, elated by success, poured their blasting volleys in quick succession amid the astonished foe. At length the cavalry prepared for a charge ; and, foreseeing the fatal consequences, Putnam ordered his men to conceal themselves in the swamp. They had scarcely time to do this, when the dragoons were within pistol-shot. Every eye was now turned to their commander. He could not follow them, and destruction appeared inevitable. Calm and dignified he sat on his horse, until the last soldier had gained the thicket, and all was safe. Sure of their prize, the dragoons spurred desperately forward, and rose in the stirrup to cut down the warrior with a decisive blow. But Putnam^s plan had been formed. Urging his horse to the precipice, he hung one moment on its verge, and in the next was dashing headlong down the steps. Involuntarily the bewildered cavalry dis- charged their pistols, and reined upon the giddy brink. Not one of that host durst follow where PUTNAM'S FEAT AT HORSENECK. 333 Putnam led. Their prey had slipped from their grasp; and, as they gazed at his furious riding, exe- crations deep and vengeful were pressed between their teeth. One momentary hope remained — that horse and rider might tumble headlong. Indeed, it ap- peared inevitable. But the daring horseman fell not. Buoyed above fear, he sat as upright as though on parade; while his steed seemed gifted with super- natural power. The whirl of excitement, the period when none dared breathe, was but for a moment. Putnam gained the plain unharmed ; and, after stopping long enough to bestow one meaning smile on the spectators above, hurried forward to his main army. After receiving reinforcements, he faced about and pursued Tryon on his return. General Greene. BATTLE OF EUTAW SPRINGS. HERE is often a parallel to be ob- served in the fortunes of great men. As Washington, after a pe- riod of long and vexatious inaction, crowned his military course with the capture of Cornwallis ; so his most active officer, Gen. Greene, his brilliant course by the victory of rings. That great man found the BATTLE OF EUTAW SPRINGS. 335 South a conquered province. A fine army led by an indefatigable general, and flushed with victory, was ready to crush the least signs of rebellion or opposition ; and so sure did Cornwallis consider his conquest, that he was ready to march into Virginia before Greene had arrived to supersede General Gates. How the American general rose as difficulties pressed him, — how his comprehensive mind embraced in one sweep, all the plans and requisites for a successful campaign, — how he gave spirit and discipline to the defeated Americans; led them cheerfully into battle; made them veterans, and wrung from his astonished oppo- nent the long-worn laurels of the South — are familiar to all. The reward of his brilliant career, the natural consequence of his toil and suffering and anxiety, was the action at Eutaw Springs. The evening of the 7th of September, 1781, was serene and beautiful. On the wide stretching plains of the South, the blue sky with her thousand stars looked down with a stillness and solemnity, that lent a magic influence to all around, and raised the feelings of man from earth to heaven. Yet, even amid that quiet scene, dark and terrible passions were rankling, for five thousand men lay in arms waiting for the dawn to light, to guide them to death and slaughter. For three days previous to this, General Greene had advanced by easy marches toward the enemy's position. But to his astonishment the latter appeared to have no intimation of his approach, and although the American scouts came within reconnoitering distance, he still remained in the same position. Al- though Greene's march was effected without any 336 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. attempt at concealment, yet, during the night of the 7th, the same dead calm continued; nobody was observed moving. But the morning of the 8th was destined to break this oppressive quietness. At four o'clock Greene put the Americans in motion, arranged in two columns, with the artillery in front. Lieutenant-Colonel Lee formed the advance, and Lieutenant-Colonel Wash- ington the rear. After advancing cautiously to within four miles of the British camp, Lee suddenly encoun- tered a party of the enemy, and halted. The echoing of musketry through the woods, soon gave notice to the American commander that an action had com- menced, and the horse were hurried forward to par- ticipate. The hot fire in front so severely galled the British that they began to give way. At the same moment the cavalry dashed into their rear, driving before them the enemy's horsemen and foragers, scattering the infantry in all directions, and securing about forty with their captain. The soldiers had marched but a little distance after this skirmish, when they encountered a second corps, and the action recommenced. The artillery was now opened on both sides, and, while the soldiers were falling beneath its fire, each army formed its line of battle. The North Carolina militia, with those of South Carolina, made the first line ; the continentals the second. Lee's legion had care of the right flank, and Henderson's corps of the left. Two three-pound- ers were in the front line, and the remainder of the artillery, two sixes, in the rear. The cavalry under Lieutenant-Colonel Washington formed the reserve. BATTLE OF EUTAW SPRINGS. 337 The British formed but one line, drawn up in front of their tents, with two separate bodies of infantry and cavalry in their rear, and their artillery distributed in different roads along the line. While the skirmishing continued, one corps after another came into action, until the greater part of both armies was engaged. The fire ran from rank to rank, raking the long extended lines, and bringing infantry, horse, and artillery-men to the ground. Part of the British centre, with two other regiments, rushed suddenly upon the advance militia, routed them after a short struggle, and hurried on toward the left flank. But the troops composing this part of the army, under Lieutenant-Colonel Henderson, received the shock with firmness, and poured forward their volleys with a rapidity and precision, that stopped pursuit and re- stored the battle. Fired by this spirited conduct, Greene dashed toward his second line, and ordered its centre, under Brigadier-General Sumter, to move into the chasm, left by the retiring militia. These troops poured into action with loud shouts ; the battle grew darker and bloodier, and the enemy in their turn fell back to the first position. Lieutenant-Colonel Stewart, the British commander, hurried into action the infantry in rear of his left wing. The conflict was then terri- ble. Regiments were sweeping along under galling fires ; the hot sun was beaming and dancing over thousands of bayonets, and helmets, and sabres ; cav- alry were thundering from rank to rank, the sheaths of the dragoons ringing across the field : w'hile the ground, air, and woods rocked, with the rushings of angry thousands, the rattling of musketry, the loud 29 y 338 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. roaring of cannon. The plumes of officers were leaping here and there between the volumes of smoke ; charge after charge was crushing scores into the earth; and the love of life, the strong universal tie, was suspended in the whirlings of passion. High over this scene of uproar, General Greene's form was observed, like some powerful spirit, swaying the elements of destruction and terror. His voice rang wildly through the fearful uproar, and his sword flashed with startling energy in the bright sunbeams, as he drove on his brave men to different positions. Observing the closeness of the conflict, he determined upon a decisive movement, and ordered up the Maryland and Virginia men. Their loud shouts announced their coming ; and soon, like the blast of a volcano, their drizzling hail opened upon the British. Whole companies were annihilated, or reduced to skeletons ; horse and rider sunk at once to the earth, and for a moment the veterans of England staggered. At this critical moment, Major Majoribanks hurled his grenadier battalion into action, and sustained his faltering comrades. But, determined on victory, Greene ordered Lieutenant-Colonel Washington to fall upon him ; and, galloping furiously along the line, called for the bayonet. Suddenly the American fire died away, and the long extended line was bending forward to the charge. Blasting volleys were poured into their ranks, and brave fellows sunk down on every side. Every gun was aimed full at their faces, and every cannon glared terribly upon their densely packed ranks. Still they stopped not — swerved not. BATTLE OF EUTAW SPRINGS. 339 The eye of Greene was upon them, and the war-worn defenders of the South were leading them on. The woods resounded with their firm tramp, and the enemy prepared for the terrible encounter. At this moment Lieutenant-Colonel Lee, observing that the line extended beyond the British flank, instantly ordered a company to gain the latter, and give it a raking fire. Assailed in front by the bayonet and in flank by musketry, the enemy recoiled in haste. For a moment they rallied — the armies closed — bayonets plunged at opposing bosoms ; then all was dark. The next moment the British line was broken, the troops flying in all directions, and leaving their camp the undisputed prize of the victors. Had the nature of the ground been favourable to the move- ments of cavalry, the whole British army would have been captured. But, unfortunately, Colonel Wash- ington became involved in a swamp, where he could neither advance nor recede ; and in this position he was exposed to the fire of the whole retreating corps. Many officers were killed, his horse shot under him, and himself bayoneted and taken. One-half of his corps was destroyed. This afforded the British an opportunity of covering their retreat ; while part of them entered a large stone house, adjoining the road. In this pursuit the Americans captured three hun- dred prisoners and two pieces of artillery. Conster- nation prevailed in the British army ; fugitives were hastening toward Charleston ; and the staff were de- stroying stores of every kind. At this critical juncture, when Lieutenant-Colonel Lee had possession of all the roads commanding the 340 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. retreat, he received intelligence that a sustaining corps had failed to come up, and could not be found. This unlooked-for news was not less fatal to the bright prospect of personal glory than to the splendid issue of the conflict. Lee was obliged to withdraw, and immediately Stewart restored his broken line, and renewed the action. He regained his captured camp and artillery, and took two American pieces. Thus closed the battle of Eutaw Springs, in which accident wrested a complete victory from the hands of the American general. It lasted more than three hours, and was fiercely contested, the corps in both armies bravely supporting each other. With the exception of the cavalry, where the advantage lay with the Americans, the armies were about equal, both in numbers and composition. Each numbered twenty- three hundred, with like proportions of irregulars. The loss was uncommonly great. According to official returns, more than one-fifth of the British, and one- fourth of the American army, were killed and wounded, and officers on both sides considered the loss much greater. The enemy made sixty prisoners, all wounded; the Americans about five hundred, including some wounded left in camp by Colonel Stewart at his retreat. Of six regimental commanders, only Williams and Lee were unhurt. Washington, Howard, and Hen- derson were wounded ; and the respected and beloved Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell was killed. Both sides claimed the victory, but the advantages were altogether with the Americans. General Wayne. WAYNE'S CHARGE AT GREEN SPRING. HE name of Wayne is asso- ciated with all that is daring and chivalric in our revolu- tionary struggle. Impetuous as a cataract in battle, and yet cool and calculating, few who leaned upon him for sup- port, in the hour of danger, ever complained of disappointment ; and his conduct at Ger- mantown, Monmouth, and Stony Point, proves his efficiency both in following a leader, and in commanding an assault. J 344 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. During La Fayette's stirring campaign in Virginia, Wayne was despatched by Washington, to assist that nobleman in his efforts against Cornwallis. On the 6th of July, 1781, La Fayette came up with the British general near the Chickahominy Creek, and on learning that the main body of his army had already crossed the river to the northern bank, leaving behind it on the southern only a rear guard, he determined to attack it. The main body of his army had not yet arrived ; yet placing the seven hundred men with him, who were the very flower of his army, under Gen- eral Wayne, he ordered him to attack the supposed rear. Wayne vigorously attacked the pickets, driving them rapidly before him, and pushing for the entire guard. Suddenly a sight terrible as unexpected burst upon him. The information on which he was acting had been false; the whole British army was drawn up in battle array, and he, with seven hundred men, not fifty yards from them. Retreat was utterly impossible, and to remain inactive would have secured destruction. The least show of fear, the least indecision, would have been fatal ; Wayne knew it, and his course was taken. Parties were already on his flanks ; and the enemy pressing forward, certain of undisputed victory. Ral- lying his little band around him, he ordered a charge with the bayonet, and dashed down into the heart of opposing thousands. Instantly a movement was ob- served among them, and in a few moments the flanking parties were recalled, and the first line heaved back be- fore the general's furious shock. Even Cornwallis was deceived by so brilliant a manoeuvre, and, imagining WAYNE'S CHARGE. 345 that the whole American army was approaching, he hastily concentrated his forces, and prepared for the attack. Seeing all obstructions removed, Wayne sud- denly withdrew his troops, and, though in the face of a galling fire, conducted them away in excellent order. Bewildered by so inexplicable a movement, the British commander imagined it to be but a stratagem to draw him into an ambuscade, and accordingly forbid all pursuit. The Americans lost one hundred and eight men, a proof of the dreadful fire under which they made their charge. The British loss is unknown. Wayne received the highest commendations of the marquis, as well as those of Washington and Greene. Commodore Barney. CAPTUEE OF THE GENERAL MONK. N the 8th of April, 1782, Lieu- tenant Joshua Barney commenced his cruise for the capture of the enemy's privateers, which had lately committed great outrages in the vicinity of Delaware Bay. His ship, the Hyder Ally, carried sixteen guns, and had been fitted up by the state of Pennsylvania expressly for this service. While alone near the Capes, he was descried CAPTURE OF THE GENERAL MONK. 349 by a brig and two ships of the enemy, who im- mediately commenced an attack. After permitting the smaller vessel to pass, Barney allowed one of the ships to approach within pistol-shot ; while the other stationed herself toward the west, in order to cut off the retreat of the Americans. The attacking vessel now bore down in haste upon the Hyder Ally, imagining that the latter would strike ; but a wide ringing broadside, whose shot came ripping and splitting among spars and sails, soon corrected the mistake. At such unmistakeable marks of determination, the enemy halted for a moment ; and then commenced ranging alongside of Captain Barney, preparatory to boarding. At this important moment, Barney directed the quartermaster in a loud voice to port the helm, while at the same time he was under secret orders to perform a ma- noeuvre exactly opposite. By this singular stratagem the British were completely deceived, and allowed the Americans to gain a position where they could effectually rake their enemy. The battle now raged with such fury, that in twenty-six minutes twenty broadsides were fired. Amid this scene of death and desolation, while the two ships were rocking under repeated shocks, and the water hissing and boiling with shot, Captain Barney stood upon the quarter- deck, in full view of the enemy's musketeers, and a mark for every discharge. In twenty-six minutes the enemy struck her colours. The prize proved to be the General Monk, for- merly an American vessel, under the title of General Washington. It had been captured by the British, 30 350 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. and fitted up, under a new name, with eighteen nine- pounders, and one hundred and thirty-six men, under Captain Rodgers. The General Monk lost twenty men killed, and thirty-three wounded ; the Hyder Ally four killed, and eleven wounded. Considering the great disparity of force, together with the fierceness of the action and brilliancy of manoeuvring, this is justly considered one of the proudest achievements on our naval record. l x THE MUTINIES. THE sufferings endured by our brave men, during the long struggle for indepen- dence, can scarcely be appreciated by those who live in a more propitious age. Encamped in win- ter amid driving snows, with no shelter except rude huts, without blank- ets or shirts, they frequent- ly passed entire days destitute of any food. Their petitions were rejected by Congress, and their pay was often more than a year in arrears. Disease was added to their other miseries— death in every shape stared them in the face. Should their cause fail, 30* z 354 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. nothing was before them but an ignominious fate; and should they gain their independence, their only reward appeared to be utter destitution. Under these circumstances it is no matter of sur- prise that discontent against Congress, and a dissatis- faction with the service, should have spread them- selves throughout the camp. Men of common mould would not have supported such suffering one week ; and amid all the wonders of that wonderful period, one of the greatest is the patience of the revolutionary martyrs. An unfortunate oversight of Congress, was the enlistment of men for three years, or during the con- tinuance of the war. When the three years expired, the troops claimed their discharge, asserting that the phrase — "during the continuance of the war," was added only as a provision in case of the war ceasing before the expiration of three years. Congress, how- ever, thought differently, contending that the disputed phrase provided for the continuation of the war beyond three years. Considering the construction of Congress as an attempt at fraud, the soldiers became discontented and exasperated, and peremptorily claim- ed their discharge. This was positively refused, and now the forbearance of patriotism itself was ex- hausted. On the 1st of January, 1781, the whole Pennsylva- nia line, except a part of three regiments, paraded under arms, seized provisions, ammunition, and six field- pieces, broke into the stables of General Wayne, and took his horses to transport them. The alarm spread like lightning through the camp, messengers rushed THE MUTINEERS. 355 toward Wayne's head-quarters, and in half an hour wild uproar was revelling where all had been order and quiet. The officers met in groups, pale and un- decided ; men that had charged into the throat of blazing batteries, were now irresolute, and feeble as children. The remainder of the line hurried together, and, gaining courage from their presence, the officers joined them, and confronted the insurgents. Shots were exchanged, and a few fell dead. Then the muti- neers became furious. Sweeping onward with fixed bayonets, they drove everything before them, and called on their opposers to join them, under pain of instant death. Unable to stand before so overwhelm- ing a tide, they complied, and the revolt became general. At this moment a single horseman was seen gal- loping as for life toward the army. Alone, armed only with his pistols, that fierce rider dashed along the ranks, and called for submission. It was General Wayne ; he whose wild battle-shout had led them at Brandywine and Germantown, and Monmouth and Stony Point. But there are moments when love and reverence are flung to the winds, in the struggle for right and honour. Wayne's magic voice had lost its spell. Each soldier sternly grasped his piece, and the march continued. He drew his pistol ; but, with a calmness stern and dreadful, they said, " General, we respect and love you. Often have you led us into the field of battle ; but we are no longer under your com- mand. We warn you to be on your guard. If you fire your pistols, or attempt to enforce your com- mands, you are a dead man !" Unable to stem the 356 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. torrent, he resorted to expostulation. He reminded them of the cause for which they were fighting ; of their former patience, and of the ignominy they would acquire by joining the enemy, who were doubtless on the alert to seize this favourable opportunity. " We are not going to the enemy," was their answer. "On the contrary, were they now to come out, you should see us fight under your orders with as much alacrity as ever. But we will no longer be amused. We are determined on obtaining what is our just due. We have been imposed upon, and deceived respecting our term of enlistment ; we have received no wages for more than a year ; we are destitute of clothing, and have often been deprived of our rations. Now we march to Congress to demand that justice which has so long been denied." They set out for Philadelphia; moving in the strictest military order, and posting pickets, guards, and sentinels, around their night camps. Wayne, with other officers, accompanied them, and, on arriving at Princeton, prevailed on them to halt, and draw up a petition of redress to be presented to Congress. On hearing of this unexpected occurrence, Sir Henry Clinton hastened to turn it to his own advantage. Well assured that the breath of civil war would blast the prospect of independence far more effectually than any effort he could exert, he sent two emissaries to the revolters, with written instructions that, by laying down their arms and marching to New York, they should receive their arrearages and depreciation in hard cash, should be well clothed, have a free pardon for all past offences, be protected by the British THE MUTINEERS. 357 government, and have no military service imposed upon them, unless voluntarily offered. But Sir Henry was unacquainted with the men with whom he was dealing, and had calculated too far on the influence of Arnold's example. His golden offers were spurned with the disdain of true patriotism, and the commis- sioners seized. Soon after a committee redressed the wrongs of the insurgents, the British deputies were executed as spies, and the soldiers returned to duty. The revolt of the New Jersey line was one more deeply tragic. Determined not to temporize with so dangerous an event, Washington despatched Major- General Howe, with five hundred men, to quell the rebellion at all hazards. After four days' marching, through woods and over mountains, in the depth of winter, they reached the huts of the insurgents. Howe then ordered his aid to command the mutineers to appear on parade in front of their camp, unarmed, within five minutes. They hesitated ; a second mes- senger was sent ; and, finding all resistance useless, they paraded without arms. A terrible pause suc- ceeded — the sickening anticipation of unknown evil. Then three of the ringleaders were brought out, court-martialled on the spot, and sentenced to be immediately shot. Twelve of their guilty companions were selected as executioners. Terrible duty ! — each shuddered with horror; and, when ordered to load, shed tears of bitter agony. Overwhelmed by the terrors of death, the victims gazed despairingly from side to side ; but no force was near to wrest them from the stern arm of power. Every heart bled with sympathy, yet none dared speak his feelings. 358 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. The first victim was led to the distance of a few yards, and placed upon his knees. At a signal from an officer, six of the executioners fired, three aiming at his breast, and three at his head. A stifled groan of agony came from the line, and each man involun- tarily closed his eyes. But every gun had missed. The next moment the remaining six fired, and the wretch was hurled into eternity. The second crimi- nal was despatched at the first fire. Half dead with apprehension, the third victim was brought upon the snow. He kneeled down. Already the pieces were aimed, and every muscle shuddered in anticipation of the fatal report. Suddenly he was pardoned. The thrill of joy — of wild relief — at that unexpected moment, was too great even for military discipline. With exclamations of gratitude, all the men rushed toward their officers ; and, while tears streamed from their eyes, swore never again to desert the cause. After the execution was finished, Howe ordered the former officers to resume their stations and com- mand ; and then, in a pathetic manner, addressed the whole line by platoons, endeavouring to impress them with a sense of the enormity of their crime, and of the dreadful consequences which might have resulted from it. After this he commanded them to ask pardon of their officers, and promise to devote them- selves to duty in future. In this affair Sir Henry Clinton again made himself detestable, by sending an emissary to the troops, with similar offers to those formerly extended. His designs were again frustrated ; after which General Howe returned to head-quarters. T1ATTLE OF THE COWPENS. I IE British under Lieu- tenant-Colonel Tarleton, numbering eleven hun- dred men, with two field-pieces, on the 17th of January, 1781, came in sight of eight hun- dred Americans, under General Morgan, posted at the Cowpens. The ground was by no means favourable for defensive warfare, leaving the flanks unprotected, and cutting off retreat by a deep river in the rear. Yet, under all these dis- advantages, Morgan firmly awaited the arrival of his adversary, with the determination of giving battle. His army was drawn up in three lines, — the first composed of militia, the second of continental in- fantry, and a third, constituting the reserve, of Colo- nel Washington's cavalry, and a company of mounted militia. 31 362 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. As the armies hung on the verge of battle, Morgan rode among his troops, praising the unshrinking firm- ness with which they had sustained so many battles, exhorting them not to let the present one diminish their fame, and reminding them that they were fight- ing under a leader never yet defeated. Scarcely were the words of that fiery appeal spoken, when the enemy came bearing down with irresistible fury, sweeping the militia before them, and rushing forward to charge the regulars. Undis- mayed by the repulse of the militia, this little band bore up against the impetuous surge, and received the shock with unshrinking firmness. A terrible conflict began. Spurning their dead and wounded beneath their feet, the British drove on with the bayonet, charging and recharging with fearful rapidity. But, animated by the gallant Howard, the continentals bent forward to the blow, and wrestled with overpow- ering numbers, until they were completely outflanked. Morgan then ordered a retreat to the cavalry; and though in full range of a superior enemy, the whole line effected the movement in the most perfect order. By this means the flanks were relieved and a new order of battle formed. Considering this retrograde movement as the pre- cursor of flight, the British line pressed on with impetuosity and disorder ; but with a rapidity truly astonishing, Howard's troops faced about, and dis- charged their pieces full in their opponents' faces. Stunned by this unexpected shock, the most advanced recoiled in confusion. At that critical moment Howard rushed on them with the bayonet. Wild BATTLE OF THE COWPENS. 363 rout and uproar took the place of pursuit. The ad- vancing reserve shared the fate of the main body — everything broke and scattered beneath Howard's terrible charge. Meanwhile, the militia had rallied, and been attack- ed by the enemy's cavalry ; but, at the same time that the continental infantry charged the British line, Co- lonel Washington, with his dragoons, charged their cavalry. Hurled forward by this impetuous officer, our horsemen burst like an avalanche among the Brit- ish, trampling horse and rider in the dust, and hurrying the others before him in full gallop. In a few mo- ments they were crushing down ranks of their own army, that were fleeing before Howard. Then Mor- gan rallied his militia, and, shouting above the din of battle, drove down amid the disastrous rout. Urged by the sense of their sufferings from that very army, the Americans hurried to vengeance, with shouts of exultation. The clashing of bayonets, the thunder- ings of cavalry, the ringing of sabres, and noise of victory, pealed far and wide along those solitary plains ; while in every direction, swords and bayonets and drums, and horses, and dead and dying, were strewed in utter confusion. Still the flight continued, and behind it the thunderings of pursuit, until the exhausted victors could no longer pursue. Wash- ington followed Tarleton twenty miles ; and, on one occasion, when separated from his command, was in imminent danger from three dragoons, who made a combined attack upon him. By the assistance of a soldier he drove these off, after receiving a wound in • the knee. 364 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. In this decisive action, the Americans lost about seventy men, of whom twelve only were killed. The British infantry, with the exception of the baggage guard, were nearly all killed or taken. One hundred, including ten officers, were killed, twenty-three officers and five hundred privates were taken. The artillery, eight hundred muskets, two standards, thirty-five bag- gage-wagons, and one hundred dragoon horses, remained with the victors. General Morgan. \ CAPTURE OF NEW LONDON. IMMEDIATELY after General Ar- | nold had returned from his infa- mous expedition into Virginia, he was despatched by Sir Henry Clinton on an expedition against New London, Connecticut. After taking undisputed possession of Fort Trumbull, he advanced against Fort Griswold, and summoned the garrison to surrender. Colonel Ledyard, the commandant, replied that he would defend the place to the last. He had with him but one hundred and sixty men, and the works were but moderately strong. 368 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. The British moved to the attack in three columns, and were received by a steady fire from the garrison. As they neared the fort, the quick wide gaps in their ranks showed that death was stalking with rapid strides among them ; but, hurried' on by the daring Arnold, they bared their bosoms to the sweeping fire, and at length gained the works. Then a momentary struggle ensued, and the silence told that our troops had surrendered. Leaping over a parapet, a British officer asked who commanded. Colonel Ledyard ap- peared, and presented his sword. It was taken, and with savage malignity plunged into the patriot's breast. Then commenced a scene fit only for British warfare in America. Imitating the infamous example of their leader, the troops rushed among the unarmed gar- rison, hacking and bayoneting all that came in their way, and flinging all honour or humanity to the wind. Again the savage war-cry went up, while, mingling with it in sickening accents, was the wail of innocence, the unavailing prayer for mercy. Still the awful work went on ; son and brother and bosom companion were butchered together, until piles of corpses were packed along the walls, and the ground ran deep with human gore. But forty remained uninjured. In the assault the enemy lost forty-three killed, and one hundred and forty-five wounded. Colonel Ayre, the commandant, was killed, and Colonel Montgomery wounded. After this proceeding, Arnold resumed his march toward New London. After plundering it of every- thing which his troops could carry, he set. the town on fire, and retired to a neighbouring hill to watch the con- CAPTURE OF NEW LONDON, 369 flagration. Here, amid scenes which should have melted his heart — amid the rocks, and streams, and woods of his childhood — he stood like a demon, glutting his appetite for destruction. Gradually house after house sunk among the smouldering flames, and the fortunes of their owners were ruined. Besides the buildings, an immense amount of moveable property was included in the conflagration. The surrounding country was then ravaged ; and, after doing as much mischief as possible, Arnold returned to New York. Ruins of Wyoming. MASSACRE OF WYOMING. ^jlHE village of jjj Wyoming was ■ a small and IB flourishing set- tlement, situated in a delightful I valley on the eastern branch of the Susquehanna. Unfortunately, the territory was claimed both by Pennsylvania and Connecticut ; and thus, from the collision of contradictory claims, founded on royal charters, the laws of neither state were enforced. Near this peaceful settlement, embosomed amid MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 373 the wildest scenes of nature, and remote from all immediate help, the tory partisans of Britain could assemble, and concert their schemes with perfect security. Having ventured, however, within the bounds of the village, a party of them were arrested by the authorities of Connecticut, and sent to Hartford for trial. They were soon set at liberty ; but the remembrance of their captivity rankled in their bosoms, and produced a determination of vengeance. They visited the different Indian tribes, painted their wrongs in burning colours, and called upon every one to lift the hatchet against his oppressor. Roused by these fiery appeals, the warriors of the vicinity met in council, and resolved the utter extermination of all the Wyoming settlers. In a short time the enemy assembled together, to the number of eleven hundred, of whom two hundred were Indians. As commander, they chose Colonel John Butler, a man notorious for every species of crime. In July, 1778, he appeared in force before a small fort, situated near the village, and demanded its surrender. As the works were in a miserable con- dition, and the garrison but a handful, the demand was obeyed. A part of the garrison had previously retired to Forty Fort, near Kingston ; and before this place Butler now appeared, summoning it to sur- render. Colonel Zebulon Butler, the commander, answered by proposing a conference at the bridge without the works. This was agreed upon, and the commandant, with his officers and the greater part of the garrison, repaired to the spot ; but, not meeting the enemy, they indulged the pleasing hope that the • 32 374 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. latter had fled ; and, instead of returning to the fort, commenced a hurried pursuit. Over three miles they continued their reckless march, when they suddenly came in sight of a few straggling Indians. On these they fired, but in a moment were convinced of the withering fact, that they had been drawn into an ambuscade. With one wild shout the tories and savages commenced their attack, levelling and riddling the crowded masses before their terrible fire. A cry of horror rose, and for a moment the Americans paused ; but the officers rushed forward, restored order, and returned the enemy's fire. Then those brave men stood up against fate, and, though in full view of a hidden foe, exerted long but vain efforts to drive back their assailants. Undismayed by the havoc on all sides, they continued the conflict until the Indians had gained their rear, and cut off all retreat. Then they offered to surrender; but that offer was received with a fiendish laugh, that spoke terribly to those devoted men. Still the cries for mercy went up, and then that savage yell, and the rattling of hundreds of muskets. The sufferers flung away their weapons, and on their knees implored, with lifted hands, for the pittance of life. Then they hurried in crowds from side to side, wild and over- come with terror. Some threw themselves among the mangled dead, and lay as though senseless ; while the fierce wrestlings of the soul, in the agonies of despair, were sent up in broken prayers to Heaven. But all was vain. Shower after shower of iron hail came crashing among them, sweeping everything in its course, and mingling the screams of the wounded with MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 375 the petitions for life. Of four hundred and seventeen who had left the fort, but fifty-seven escaped. After this dreadful scene, the murderers marched to the fort and again demanded its surrender. Ac- cordingly, articles of capitulation were signed, securing to the people in the fort their effects. Thirty men, and two hundred women then crossed the river, and commenced a distressing; march through the woods to Northampton county. The hardships of these unfor- tunate victims of barbarity were great ; many of the women were overwhelmed with grief at the loss of their husbands, brothers, or friends. Most of the provisions had been left behind, and sadness, disease, and hunger, accompanied their weary steps. Unable to support their miseries, several lay down under trees and prayed for death. Mutual sufferings caused the deepest sympathy, and these sorrowful ones were car- ried the remainder of the journey by their compan- ions. At length, emaciated with hunger, sickness, and fatigue, they arrived among the Pennsylvania settle- ments. In November, another massacre was perpetrated at Cherry Valley by one Brandt, who had been active in the former one. Accompanied by Walter Butler, son of Colonel John Butler, and by seven hundred men, he approached the fort at that place on the 9th. The commandant, Colonel Ichabod Alden, had re- ceived numerous intimations of danger; but, instead of concentrating his forces to meet it, he had discour- aged the inhabitants from taking refuge in the fort, and merely despatched a few scouts, to give alarm in case of seeing an enemy. These built a fire, and 376 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. went to sleep. In this condition, they were surprised and captured by Brandt. The settlement was invested on every side, and all the inhabitants put to death — some by shooting, some by fire, others by various tor- tures ; but the greater part were crowded into barns and houses, which were then consumed in one general conflagration. Between thirty and forty prisoners were reserved for future barbarities. After this diabolical act, the assailants proceeded against the fort. But its garrison of two hundred men defended themselves with a desperation which recent scenes had imparted to them, and the savages were obliged to retire. Colonel Alden, however, paid for his carelessness with his life. .■S&s General Lincoln. SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. O officer in the British army did more for the cause of his king, or better deserved suc- cess, than did Lord Corn- wallis. Fertile in stratagem, brave and persevering even to rashness, rapid in the com- bination and execution of his plans, he moved as a superior among all the English generals of the revo- 380 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. lution. During the campaigns in the Jerseys, and around Philadelphia, he was continually in the most arduous and weighty services ; and when the South became the favourite field of the ministry, he was appointed to command in that quarter. There his very name was a terror; and the boldest troops re- laxed from their bearing when it was announced that Cornwallis was their enemy. . The 19th of October, 1781, was the day appointed for the surrender of the garrison at Yorktown. At twelve o'clock, the combined army was drawn up in two lines ; the Americans on the right, commanded by General Washington, in full uniform, and attended by his aids ; on the left, were the French troops under Count Rochambeau, and his suite. The French marched to their stations finely dressed, and with regular dignified step, to the sound of national music. In every direction thousands of spectators, grouped into crowds, were eagerly anticipating a sight of that formidable army, whose presence they had so often fled. Horses, carriages, every kind of vehicle, were extended in long rows, filled in many places with anxious spectators. At length a movement was observed in the town, and soon General O'Hara, mounted on a splendid charger, issued from the gates. Every eye was rivet- ed to the spot, in order to get a view of Cornwallis — the proud conqueror of the South. Slowly and gracefully O'Hara rode toward Washington, and yet the earl appeared not. Then the British general ap- proached the commander, removed his hat, and was referred to General Lincoln. Now the mystery was SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 381 explained. Cornwallis would not appear as a pris- oner of those he had been so long accustomed to conquer. Slowly following their general, came the British troops, with shouldered arms, cased colours, and tread- ing to the solemn tones of a national march. They were met by General Lincoln near the centre of the enclosed space, and conducted to the field where the ceremony was to take place. They were dressed in uniform entirely new, which presented a beautiful appearance ; but their march was irregular and disor- derly, and the ranks frequently broken. But when the last act of their humiliation came, when they were to resign the arms with which they had so frequently swept everything before them, shame and mortified pride could no longer be concealed. The command to ground arms, seemed torn by compulsion from most of the officers ; and was obeyed by many in a manner irritable and sullen. Observing this, Lincoln rode along the line and restored order. At the same time the troops at Gloucester Point surrendered in a similar manner to General de Choise. The whole number that capitulated at Yorktown, was seven thousand two hundred and forty-seven; seventy-five brass, and one hundred and sixty-nine iron cannon ; seven thousand seven hundred and ninety-four muskets ; eighteen German standards and ten British ones, with a large amount of provisional and other stores were taken. The military chest contained two thousand one hundred and thirteen pounds six shillings, sterling. The news of the capture and surrender of Corn- 382 REVOLUTIONARY WAR. wallis, produced an effect throughout the country unappreciable by those who live at a later day. When the panting messenger announced to Congress, that Comwallis had fallen, the door-keeper swooned at his station ; the voice of the orator was hushed ; all business was suspended, and the members hastened to the temple of God, to return public thanks to Almighty Providence. The workman left his tools ; the student his closet; and even ladies their seclu- sion ; crowds rushed through the streets and lanes, or assembled in groups, reading the news to the un- learned. The rich and the poor, the slave and his master, the gentleman and the mendicant, were for a moment equal ; and one wild shout — the burst of a nation's exultation, pealed up throughout the land. The Hector of the British host had fallen, and all felt that his cause could not long survive. CAPTURE OF L'INSURGENTE. N the 9th of February, 1799, Com- modore Truxtun, in the Constellation, came in sight of a large ship, and im- mediately gave chase. The stranger hoisted American colours ; but, unable to answer the Constellation's private signals, she ran up the French ensign, and fired a challenge. For the first time since the Revolution, one of our national vessels was in sight of an enemy. We had fought and triumphed on land ; now we were to meet the powers of the Old World upon sea. Every man was eager to engage ; and, as the gallant 384 WAR WITH FRANCE. ship moved down upon the enemy, her speed seemed too small to meet the anxious longing of her crew. They were not disappointed. The Insurgente waited calmly for her opponent ; and, when the latter opened her fire, returned it with spirit. The silence was broken; the eager antagonists had their wish; and one loud cannonade roared across the solitary waters, rocking the surface of ocean like an earthquake, and heaving the ships to and fro with mighty energy. Nearer and nearer they drew to each other, and louder and fiercer the conflict grew, until nothing was heard but the roar of heavy ordnance, and nothing seen except a thick black pall, shooting forth columns of flame. Volleys of heavy shot were poured into the American foretopmast, until it reeled and swung backwards under the terrible blows. The young midshipman who commanded it (David Porter), called again and again to. his superior for leave to lower the sail and relieve the pressure ; but his voice was lost in the uproar of battle. Feeling that the mast must fall, unless this were done, he assumed the responsibility, and thus saved the ship from a serious misfortune. Her broadsides now raked the enemy from stem to stern, crashing masts, sails, and rigging, and strewing the deck with dead and dying. The Constellation then glided from the shrond of smoke, sailed round to her opponent's rear, and was on the point of raking her again, when the latter struck her colours. The Insurgente was one of the fastest sailers in the French navy, and was under the command of Captain Barreault. She carried forty French twelve- CAPTURE OF L'INSURGENTE. 385 pounders, and four hundred and nine men. Her loss was twenty-nine killed, and forty-one wounded. The Constellation had thirty-eight guns (English calibre), three hundred and nine men, and had three of her crew wounded. An incident subsequent to the battle deserves men- tion. The first lieutenant of the Constellation, Mr. Rodgers, with Midshipman Porter and eleven men, were placed on board the prize to superintend the re- moval of prisoners. While engaged in this duty, the wind arose almost to a hurricane, night set in, and one hundred and seventy-three of the crew still remained on board. So strong was the action of the waves, that the ships were often widely separated, and then driven with fearful violence almost to a collision. At length, notwithstanding every exertion, the prize was driven completely out of sight. At this opportunity, so unexpectedly offered, the prisoners began to exhibit unequivocal signs of revolt. To the handful who watched them this movement would have been fatal ; but the intrepid Rodgers showed himself equal to the emergency. Ordering all the prisoners to the hold, he secured the fire-arms, and placed a sentinel at each hatchway, with positive orders to shoot every man who should attempt to mount the deck. In this unenviable situation he remained three days, watching his prisoners with sleepless vigilance, and exhorting his men never to surrender their prize. At the end of that time he arrived safely in St. Kitt's, where the Constellation was already anchored. 33 Bb Commodore Truxtun. THE CONSTELLATION AND VENGEANCE. 1 i^MM jHE battle between the Constellation jjj and Vengeance (February 2d, p 1800), is one of the most indu- jj bitable proofs in history of the American naval superiority, both in manoeuvring and action. The French frigate had been descried on the previous day, when Commodore Truxtun hoisted English colours. I THE CONSTELLATION AND VENGEANCE. 389 These, however, were disregarded, and a chase com- menced, which continued all night, and through the following day. At eight in the evening, Truxtun was about speaking his opponent, when the latter suddenly- commenced firing. Flight and pursuit were now abandoned, and each commander prepared for a violent struggle. The night was dark ; and the sullen dashings of the waters seemed in unison with the terrible storm that was soon to hurry man into con- flict with his fellow man. At a few minutes past eight, the Constellation poured a heavy broadside into her antagonist, which was answered by a wide sheet of flame, followed by another and another, until the pitchy gloom was lighted up by the incessant volcanic glare. Side by side those two ships sat upon the waters, flinging out their crashing hail, and rolling with terrific violence upon the heaving ocean. Minutes and hours rolled on ; the night grew deeper and blacker, and the wind howled and shrieked along the heavens. But man heeded not the elements. Far over the ocean was that red dismal glare beheld ; and the distant mariner started from his dreaming berth, and bent forward to catch the faint lingering of that wild revel. At intervals each crew heard the shouts of opposing officers and the cheers of battle. The same voice that had rung out against the Insurgente was driving the Americans to battle ; while, as though in stern mockery, the French commander poured his thrilling appeals to his sailors. That night battle was a scene terrible and sublime. At one o'clock, the French vessel drew from the combat, and spread sail. Sure of victory, Truxtun 33* 390 WAR WITH FRANCE. ordered a chase, but at that moment received the disheartening intelligence, that every shroud had been shot from the mainmast, which was supported only by its wood. But, anxious to risk everything in order to secure the prize, he ordered his men to secure it long enough to come up with the enemy. But no ex- ertion could obviate the calamity, and the mast went by the board, in a few minutes after the enemy had retired. In this long-disputed action the Constellation lost fourteen men killed, and twenty-five wounded, eleven of whom subsequently died. Her whole crew was three hundred and ten souls. The armament of the Vengeance was twenty-eight eighteens, sixteen twelves, and eight forty-two pound carronades. Her crew was between four and five hundred men, and her loss fifty killed and one hundred and ten wounded. When arriving in Curacoa, she was in a sinking con- dition; and there can be little doubt, that had the action recommenced, her capture would have been inevitable. Commodore Decatur. BURNING OF THE PHILADELPHIA. IHE successful attack on the Phila- .^| delphia (February 16, 1804), laid rajpl the foundation of Decatur's fame. /j^g I The plan of the assault was not more admirable than the chivalric daring with which it was executed, HI or the little loss that attended it. 394 WAR WITH TRIPOLI. Its influence on both belligerents was incalculable, and gave a new complexion to all the subsequent ope- rations of the war. The Siren and Intrepid had sailed on the 3d, under orders to burn the Philadelphia. Stormy weather attended them until the 15th; a calm succeeded; and Decatur, with about eighty men, made his re- connoissances for attack. These were continued until the afternoon of the following day, when the ship became visible. She remained in the same condition as when grounded, except that her lower rigging was standing, and her guns were loaded and shotted. Near her lay two corsairs, a few gun-boats, and two galleys. As the twilight declined, and the shades of evening gathered round, the Intrepid, slowly winding amid rocks and shoals, approached her intended object. The deep blue sky, purified by the late storm, was reflected from the tranquil water, as from a mirror ; while the young moon, like a crescent gem, hung fair and beautiful over the peaceful scene. Gradually, as evening deepened, the wind died away, until scarcely a breath swept across the waters, and the Intrepid lay as immoveable as though founded on a rock. Then a ripple would dim the bright surface, a slight breeze sweep on the vessel, and silently it would continue its swan-like course. How great the contrast of sleeping nature, with the feelings of that crew ! On the deck stood their leader, every muscle rigid with expectation, and his restless eye piercing through the surrounding night. At his feet lay his men in concealment, panting with expectation of the approaching struggle. BURNING OF THE PHILADELPHIA. 395 Not a sound broke the oppressive silence — it was a pause stern and terrible. Suddenly a voice came ringing over the sea. They were hailed by the Moorish crew. A conversation took place, which was maintained under an assumed character on the part of the Americans, until the wind suddenly shifted and brought their vessel within com- plete range of the frigate's guns. Their situation was now perilous — a single broadside would have sent the Intrepid to the bottom. Fortunately no suspicion had as yet been excited, and the Turks even sent a boat to the assistance of the supposed unfortunate stranger. In a few moments the Intrepid was alongside of her prey. Instantly Decatur sprang to the side of the vessel. " Board !" he shouted to his crew, and the astonished Turks beheld their deck swarming with armed troops. Decatur's foot slipped in springing, so that Mr. Charles Morris had the honour of being first on the quarter-deck. In a moment his com- mander and a Mr. Laws were at his side, while heads and bodies appeared coming over the rail, and through the ports in all directions. Never was surprise more complete. The enemy hurried in disordered crowds from place to place, some crying for quarter, others climbing the shrouds, and others leaping overboard. In ten minutes the enemy were swept away, and the gallant Decatur had undisputed possession of his prize. And now a shade of sorrow dimmed the victor's joys. That proud vessel, whose deck he had often paced, in company with his nation's defenders, and for which he had faced such danger, must before 396 WAR WITH TRIPOLI. morning be given to the flames. It would have been happiness to bring her from the sands, and once more restore her to her sister fleet ; but this was impossible. The combustibles were now ordered from the In- trepid, and in a few minutes the flames were sweeping and hissing along her sides. The greedy element licked up the spars and rigging, like chaff, and burst- ing sheets of fire drove the victors to their ketch. The flames burst from the port-holes, glanced like lightning along the sides, and flashed in the faces of the adven- turers. The ketch became jammed against the frigate, and all her ammunition was in danger of igniting. The crew, however, extricated themselves by their swords, and soon escaped from their dangerous position. Then they paused, turned one exulting gaze toward the burning vessel, and poured their feelings in one wild shout of victory. That sound had not yet sub- sided, when the land batteries, the corsairs and galleys, burst forth in one simultaneous roar. Showers of balls and shot came whistling around the men, plung- ing and splashing among the waters, and throwing the spray in all directions. But, elated b} r success, the crew hastened not, heeded not. That spectacle was terrible to sublimity. The Philadelphia was in one wide blaze. Sheets of flame flashed along her rolling hull, danced among her rigging, and, collecting along the masts, fell down with sullen report toward the water. The waves seemed like melted brass. All Tripoli was in uproar. Thousands of people were standing in fearful anxiety, gazing upon the conflagra- tion ; volumes of smoke were unfolding heavily along the heavens ; batteries were roaring on all sides ; BURNING OF THE PHILADELPHIA. 397 ships passing to and fro ; within a few miles all nature appeared convulsed. Yet the little craft bore on, till the balls ceased to whistle near them, and they were free from danger. Then, for the first time, each man thought of what he had accomplished, and gazed in astonishment at his fellows. Steadily the Intrepid bore on, until she met the boats of the Siren, sent to cover her retreat. In a few moments one of these returned to the Siren, bringing a man dressed in a sail- or's jacket. He sprang over the gangway — it was a messenger of victory, Decatur himself. 34 Commodore Preble. BOMBARDMENT OF TRIPOLI. N order to have a cor- rect idea of the terrible scene attending the bombardment of Tri- poli, it will be necessary to take a view of the respective forces of the combatants. The fleet of Commodore Preble consisted of one frigate BOMBARDMENT OF TRIPOLI. 401 (the Constitution), three brigs, three schooners, six gun- boats, and two bombard-ketches ; carrying in all one hundred and sixty-four guns, and one thousand and sixty men. The castle and batteries of the enemy mounted one hundred and fifteen guns, of which forty- five were heavy brass battering-cannon. Beside these, there were nineteen gun-boats, each carrying a heavy twenty-four-pounder and two howitzers ; two schoon- ers of eight guns each, a brig of ten, and two galleys, each of four guns. The regular garrison and crews numbered three thousand men, and they were assisted by twenty thousand Arabs. On the afternoon of the 3d of August, 1804, signal was given for a general attack upon the town. It was commenced by bombs and heavy shot. In a moment two hundred cannon opened upon the American fleet, and Tripoli seemed shrouded in fire. The smoke from the ships meeting that on shore, formed one black canopy, under which the fierce combatants hurled forth their volleys of blasting flame. Through this dense darkness bombs were passing and repassing, scattering red-hot fragments in all directions, and sweeping everything before them as they struck at the desired object. The water ploughed and boiled with the incessant plunges, and the strong-built houses of Tripoli tottered as though in an earthquake. While the main forces were conducting the bom- bardment, Captain Decatur, with his three gun-boats, attacked nine of the enemy's. A few moments, and these little squadrons were rocking with their own cannonadings. These died away as the boats neared 34* cc 402 WAR WITH TRIPOLI. each other, and then succeeded the clash of bayonets and the ringing of sabres. Decatur seized a boat, and boarded her with but fifteen men. Five Turks rushed at him with their scimetars. The moment was big with importance. On his life hung the conduct and fate* of his men. But with the rapidity of thought he parried every blow, and drove back his antagonists unharmed. The captain, a powerful Turk, rushed at him and severed his blade; but Decatur closed with him, and both came to the deck. Although the American was under his antagonist, he managed to draw his pistol, with which he shot the Turk dead. Part of his crew then rushed to his assistance, and soon cleared the boat. With eight men he then advanced against another of the fleet, and carried it after a desperate encounter. The obstinacy of the enemy in these conflicts made the slaughter immense. The two prizes had thirty-three officers and men killed, and nineteen out of twenty- seven prisoners wounded. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Trippe boarded one of the enemy's large boats, with only a midshipman (Jona- than Henry) and nine men. At the moment of boarding his boat fell away, and thus eleven men were left to wrestle with thirty-six. The battle was fearful, but short. Fourteen of the enemy were killed, seven badly wounded, and the rest taken prisoners. Lieutenant Trippe received eleven sabre wounds, and fell while wrestling with his enemy. The lieutenant succeeded in getting his opponent's sword, with which he killed him. In this manner the battle raged for more, than two BOMBARDMENT OF TRIPOLI. 403 hours, the batteries working within pistol-shot, and every gun in uninterrupted blast. At half-past four Commodore Preble gave signal to the smaller vessels to withdraw ; and soon after the whole fleet were retiring from the town, under cover of a fire from the Constitution. The smallness of the American loss in this fierce cannonade must ever remain a matter of astonish- ment. But one man was killed — Lieutenant Decatur, brother of the captain. One man had his arm shattered, and several others were wounded. The Constitution was considerably injured, and the other vessels suffered in their rigging. Vastly different was the effect upon the enemy. Of one hundred and three men on board the captured boats, only thirty were fit for duty. Three other boats were sunk with their entire crews, and the decks of the remaining vessels were swept of numbers. The town itself was considerably damaged, and the inhabitants thrown into the greatest consternation. Many fled into the interior; and, of the thousands who swarmed the house-tops to witness the com- mencement of the battle, not one was left ten minutes after it had begun. On the 7th of August, the second bombardment of Tripoli commenced. The ships opened their fire at half-past two, and continued three hours. Forty- eight shells, and five hundred twenty-four-pound round shot were thrown into the town, one battery silenced, and several boats injured. The Americans lost a prize boat, which blew up, together with twenty-four killed and four wounded. The bashaw being still 404 WAR WITH TRIPOLI. determined to pursue his aggressions against the Americans, a third assault was determined upon. At two o'clock on the morning of the 24th, the work of death recommenced. The moon was shining with uncommon brightness, and all nature lay as though exhausted with the heat of the preceding day. The white buildings of the town, mellowed by the flood of light, seemed still and solitary as the regions of Arabian fairy land. Far away in the distance the palm trees drooped their graceful tops, and further still the mountains of Barbary seemed, Atlas-like, to be supporting the heavens. As the ships glided slowly into station, they seemed strange and unnatural ; in- truders into the sacred repose of so lovely a spectacle. But this hushed tranquillity, this peaceful repose of nature, was destined to a rude awakening. A single bomb burst faintly on the silence, swept across the starry arch, and dropped into the town. Another followed ; and then one tremendous roar burst along the startled fleet, lashing the waters into maddening surges, and stunning the air for miles around. Ranks of liquid fire blazed in every direction, and hundreds of flashing shot rushed through the void, toward the devoted town. Then a pause ; and then the terrible answer, crashing and plunging in and around the vessels, and throwing fountains of spray over the decks and rigging. Again the ships hurled forth their defiance, the batteries replying until intermission failed, and one uninterrupted uproar shook land and sea. The hours rolled dreadfully on ; but that death-work seemed endless ; and the sun had begun careering in BOMBARDMENT OF TRIPOLI. 405 the east before the mad passions of man had ceased to struggle. This bombardment having been productive of little effect, a combined attack upon the town and bashaw's castle was soon after (August 28th) made. The gun- boats and smaller vessels anchored within, among the rocks of the harbour. Thirteen of the enemy's boats engaged eight of the Americans', when the Constitu- tion sailed by, ordered the latter to retire, and deli- vered a fire which sunk a Tripoli tan boat, drove two others on the rocks, and obliged the remainder to retire. The frigate then commenced a fierce attack upon the town and castle, continuing it for three-quar- ters of an hour, with considerable effect. The castle and two batteries were silenced, many houses destroy- ed, and some men killed. A boat of the Americans was sunk, a few men killed, and several badly wounded. On the 3d of September, the fifth and last bom- bardment of Tripoli took place. The action com- menced a little after three P. M., and soon became general. In about half an hour, the battle became divided ; a part of the fleet bombarding the town, and the remainder engaging the enemy's squadron. Taught by former experience, each party seemed to rely principally on manoeuvring, during which many of the vessels were so much injured as to be unfit for sailing. Yet, although the shipping suffered so mate- rially, not a man of the Americans was injured. The action closed at half past four. On the following day, took place the most terrible event of this fierce struggle. We allude to the LOSS OF THE INTREPID. inn FIE name of this ves- sel is associated with some of the most daring deeds of modern warfare ; her fate was in strange keeping with her repu- tation. On the evening of September 4th, she was despatched by Commodore Preble as a fire-ship, to explode among the enemy's cruisers. It was commanded by Captain Somers, and his second, Lieutenant Wadsworth, with ten other men. A deep mist had brooded over the water, and the stars were seen dim, as though half- LOSS OF THE INTREPID. 409 extinguished. A gloom hung over the American seamen ; for those bold comrades whom they were sending forth were to return no more, unless they could escape un perceived from the enemy. The captain had declared his intention of exploding the vessel in case of being boarded by the Tripolitans ; and now those who knew his worth — who had stood by his side in danger as in prosperity — yearned over him with the honest sympathy of sailors. Pale with repressed anxiety, the commodore gave them his parting instructions, and the ketch swept forward through the water toward its object. The manner in which the fire-ship was prepared for her dreadful work, is thus described by Mr. Cooper, in his Naval History : "A small room or magazine had been planked up in the hold of the ketch, just forward of her principal mast. Communicating with this magazine was a trunk or tube, that led aft to another room filled with combustibles. In the planked room, or magazine, were placed one hundred barrels of gun- powder, in bulk ; and on the deck immediately above the powder, were laid fifteen thirteen and a half inch shells, and one hundred nine-inch shells, with a large quantity of shot, pieces of kentledge, and fragments of iron of different sorts. A train was laid in the trunk or tube, and fuses were attached in the proper manner. In addition to this arrangement, the other small room mentioned was filled with splinters and light wood ; which, besides firing the train, were to keep the enemy from boarding, as the flames would 35 410 WAR WITH TRIPOLI. be apt to induce them to apprehend an immediate explosion." And now the fearful voyage commenced. Slowly the canvas of the devoted craft receded into the distance, until she seemed like some shadowy spirit, strugo-ling and writhing with the darkness. Hearts that had swelled to the rigidity of iron, grew chilly and palpitating as the eye hung on the lessening folds ; and a strange restlessness, a solitary pang for the horrors of war, crossed each bosom. Decatur himself, who moved among the mighty as the mightiest, stood like a statue upon the deck, his eye peering through the darkness, and his noble form thrilling with intense feeling. Not a sound was heard ; nature seemed suspended. More and more faint the sails become, until only by turns are they revealed through the darkness. Sometimes a blast of wind strikes the water, heaves the vessel on its bosom, and displays her to the sight; then she suddenly sinks, and all is black. Now the spectators strain and lean from their stations, and pray for one more glance ; but still all is blackness. Suddenly every man started. A report cracked along the strung nerves ; a thick light gleamed through the night ; the enemy had opened their guns. Anxiety changed to agony. One ball would hurl the ketch and her crew into mangled atoms ; and how was such a catastrophe avoidable ? Battery after battery opened, glaring through the blackness, lashing the surges into fury with their iron showers, and filling the spectators with feelings unutterable. Now and then, by the help of one volcanic flash, the LOSS OF THE INTREPID. 411 fearless sail would appear, careering in the jaws of death, like some white spirit of destruction. Time seemed standing still. Yet deeper, louder, more thrilling, the uproar swelled, until earth, sea, air — all nature — seemed battling in convulsions. Tripoli had never witnessed a night like that. Suddenly a column of massive fire, to which the united efforts of every battery seemed like the mockery of tapers, swept up to heaven, tossing the boiling ocean like a ball, and lighting the coast for leagues. Then a report, as if the elements were crashing with each other ; and every vessel shook like a leaf in autumn. After the first stunning blow, men gazed on each other in consternation ; the nerves shrunk and quivered, through fear of a repe- tition. There was no inquiry ; each knew — each felt the truth. Darkness, three-fold dense, succeeded ; every gun hushed, and stillness fell like a mountain upon every heart. Oh, the racking of that moment! The roar of cannon — the struggling of battle — would have been wild, sweet music, to the tortured system. A world of horror was crowded into every moment, and man ceased for a while to breathe. The Intrepid was but a name. The crew ! where were they ? After the first shock had subsided, the sailors leaped over the sides of the vessels, held up their lanterns, and placed their ears to the water to catch the dash of oars. How fearful was the pause ! None could resign hope — that crew could not be lost — they must meet once more with their comrades, and narrate the thrilling tale. Imagination swallowed up judgment ; and " I hear them — they are coming," 412 WAR WITH TRIPOLI, often warmed each bosom with joy. Then there was silence, and the watch was again renewed. Hope again died — time rolled on — the whole truth was being told. Their oars were never again heard. How that vessel exploded, none ever knew; the awful sublimity of her fate was not to be lessened by a disclosure of its cause. Not a single gun was fired after the explosion; both parties seemed bewildered ; and, for a few days, operations against the city were suspended. General Eaton . EXPEDITION OF GENERAL EATON. 35 N the African expedition, the Americans were not confined to naval operations. We have elsewhere remarked that the Tripolitan war was conducted with a chivalry i and display of personal da- f ring rarely equalled in mo- dern warfare. Its conclusion w r as the romantic expedition 414 WAR WITH TRIPOLI. of General Eaton ; an appropriate closing for deeds of such remarkable intrepidity. Jussuf Carawalli, the Bashaw of Tripoli, during hostilities with the United States, was indebted for his eminence to a successful usurpation. Hamet, his elder brother, and the rightful heir, had fled from the dangers of his own country, and, after wandering in the desert for a long while, joined himself to the Egyptian Mamelukes. Among these he was sought and found by Mr. Eaton, American envoy to Tunis, who, having obtained consent of government, deter- mined to reinstate him. The proposal was favoured by the viceroy of Egypt, who permitted Hamet to pass from that kingdom, notwithstanding his con- nexion with the Mamelukes, with whom the govern- ment was at war. In company with the deposed prince, and a small party of adventurers from all nations, Mr. Eaton (under the title of general), commenced his march toward Tripoli. They crossed the desert of Barca from Alexandria, and in April, 1805, arrived before Derne. Having received arms and supplies from part of the fleet under Captain Hull, they attacked this place on the 27th, at two P. M. The adventurers advanced rapidly to the attack, and were received with spirit and firmness. An incessant roll of musketry was kept up for more than an hour, when Lieutenant O'Bannan and Mr. Mann stormed the principal work, hauling down the Tripolitan ensign, and, for the first time, hoisting that of our country on a fortress of the Old World. The whole town surrendered imme- diately after. Fourteen of the assailants were killed EATON'S EXPEDITION. 415 or wounded^ Eaton among the latter. They numbered twelve hundred, and their opponents three thousand. General Eaton was prevented from following up his victory by an attack on Tripoli, through want of supplies ; and, soon after, a permanent treaty between the two nations put an end to his spirited enterprise. General Harrison. BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE. UST about seven months before the United States declared war against Great Britain, the Northwestern Indians, stimu- lated to hostility by British agents, having assailed our i Northwestern frontier, General Harrison, then Governor of Indiana, was sent to chastise them. This he did ef- fectually, at the famous battle of Tippecanoe. The battle is thus described by McAffee in his history : BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE. 417 On the evening of the 5th of November, the army encamped at the distance of nine or ten miles from the Prophet's Town. It was ascertained that the approach of the army had been discovered before it reached Pine Creek. The traces of reconnoitering parties were very often seen, but no Indians were discovered until the troops arrived within five or six miles of the town, on the 6th of November. The interpreters were then placed with the advanced guard, to endeavour to open a communication with them. The Indians would, however, return no answer to the invitations that were made to them for that purpose, but continued to insult our people by their gestures. Within about three miles of the town, the ground became broken by ravines and covered with timber. The utmost precaution became necessary, and every difficult pass was examined by the mounted riflemen before the army was permitted to enter it. The ground being unfit for the operation of the squad- ron of dragoons, they were thrown in the rear. Through the whole march, the precaution had been used of changing the disposition of the different corps, that each might have the ground best suited to its operations. Within about two miles of the town, the path de- scended a steep hill, at the bottom of which was a small creek running through a narrow wet prairie, and beyond this a level plain partially covered with oak timber, and without underbrush. Before the crossing of the creek, the woods were very thick and intersected by deep ravines. No place could be better calculated for the savages to attack with a prospect Dd 418 INDIAN WAR. of success ; and the governor apprehended, that the moment the troops descended into the hollow, they would be attacked. A disposition was therefore made of the infantry to receive the enemy on the left and rear. A company of mounted riflemen was advanced a considerable distance from the left flank to check the approach of the enemy ; and the other two com- panies were directed to turn the enemy's flanks, should he attack in that direction. The dragoons were ordered to move rapidly from the rear, and occupy the plain in advance of the creek, to cover the crossing of the army from an attack in front. In this order the troops were passed over ; the dragoons were made to advance to give room to the infantry, and the latter, having crossed the creek, were formed to receive the enemy in front in one line, with a reserve of three companies — the dragoons flanked by mounted riflemen forming the first line. During all this time, Indians were frequently seen in front and on the flanks. The interpreters endeavoured in vain to bring them to a parley. Though sufficiently near to hear what was said to them, they would return no answer, but con- tinued by gestures to menace and insult those who addressed them. Being now arrived within a mile and a half of the town, and the situation being favour- able for an encampment, the governor determined to remain there and fortify his camp, until he could hear from the friendly chiefs, whom he had despatched from Fort Harrison, on the day he had left it, for the purpose of making another attempt to prevent the recurrence to hostilities. These chiefs were to have met him on the way, but no intelligence was yet BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE. 419 received from them. Whilst he was engaged in tracing out the lines of the encampment, Major Da- viess and several other field-officers approached him, and urged the propriety of immediately marching upon the town. The governor answered that his instruc- tions would not justify his attacking the Indians, as long as there was a probability of their complying with the demands of the government, and that he still hoped to hear something in the course of the evening from the friendly Indians, whom he had despatched from Fort Harrison. To this it was observed, that as the Indians seen hovering about the army had been frequently invited to a parley by the interpreters, who had proceeded some distance from the lines for the purpose ; and as these overtures had universally been answered by menace and insult, it was very evident that it was their intention to fight ; that the troops were in high spirits and full of confidence; and that advantage ought to be taken of their ardour to lead them imme- diately to the enemy. To this the governor answered, that he was fully sensible of the eagerness of the troops ; and admitting the determined hostility of the Indians, and that their insolence was full evidence of their intention to fight, yet he knew them too well to believe that they would ever do this but by surprise, or on ground which was entirely favourable to their mode of fighting. He was therefore determined not to advance with the troops, until he knew precisely the situation of the town, and the ground adjacent to it, particularly that which intervened between it and the place where the army then was — that it was their 420 INDIAN WAR. duty to fight when they came in contact with the enemy — it was his to take care that they should not engage in a situation where their valour would be use- less, and where a corps upon which he placed great reliance would be unable to act — that the experience of the last two hours ought to convince every officer, that no reliance should be placed upon the guides, as to the topography of the country — that, relying on their information, the troops had been led into a situ- ation so unfavourable, that but for the celerity with which they changed their position, a few Indians might have destroyed them : he was therefore determined not to advance to the town, until he had previously reconnoitred, either in person or by some one on whose judgment he could rely. Major Daviess im- mediately replied, that from the right of the position of the dragoons, which was still in front, the openings made by the low grounds of the Wabash could be seen ; that with his adjutant, D. Floyd, he had advanced to the bank, which descends to the low grounds, and had a fair view of the cultivated fields and the houses of the town ; and that the open woods, in which the troops then were, continued without interruption to the town. Upon this information, the governor said he would advance, provided he could get any proper person to go to the town with a flag. Captain T. Du- bois of Vincennes having offered his services, he was despatched with an interpreter to the prophet, desiring to know whether he would now comply with the terms that had been so often proposed to him. The army was moved slowly after, in order of battle. In a few moments a messenger came from Captain Dubois, BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE. 421 informing the governor, that the Indians were near him in considerable numbers, but that they would return no answer to the interpreter, although they were sufficiently near to hear what was said to them, and that upon his advancing, they constantly endeav- oured to cut him off from the army. Governor Har- rison, deeming this last effort to open a negotiation, sufficient to show his wish for an accommodation, resolved no longer to hesitate in treating the Indians as enemies. He therefore recalled Captain Dubois, and moved on with a determination to attack them. He had not proceeded far, however, before he was met by three Indians, one of them a principal counsellor to the prophet. They were sent, they said, to know why the army was advancing upon them — that the prophet wished, if possible, to avoid hostilities ; that he had sent a pacific message by the Miami and Pota- watamie chiefs, who had come to him on the part of the governor — and that those chiefs had unfortunately gone down on the south side of the Wabash. A suspension of hostilities was accordingly agreed upon ; and a meeting was to take place the next day between Harrison and the chiefs, to agree upon the terms of peace. The governor further informed them that he would go on to the Wabash, and encamp there for the night. Upon marching a short distance further, he came in view of the town, which was seen at some distance up the river, upon a commanding eminence. Major Daviess and Adjutant Floyd had mistaken some scattering houses in the fields below, for the town itself. The ground below the town being unfavourable for an encampment, the- army 36 422 INDIAN WAR. marched on in the direction of the town, with a view to obtain a better situation beyond it. The troops were in an order of march, calculated, by a single conversion of companies, to form the order of battle which it had last assumed, the dragoons being in front. This corps, however, soon became entangled in ground covered with brush and tops of fallen trees. A halt was ordered, and Major Daviess directed to change position with Spencer's rifle corps, which occupied the open fields adjacent to the river. The Indians seeing this manoeuvre, at the approach of the troops towards the town, supposed that they intended to attack it, and immediately prepared for defence. Some of them sallied out, and called to the advanced corps to halt. The governor, upon this, rode forward, and requesting some of the Indians to come to him, assured them that nothing was further from his thoughts than to attack them — that the ground below the town on the river was not calculated for an encampment, and that it was his intention to search for a better one above. He asked if there was any other water convenient besides that which the river afforded ; and an Indian with whom he was well acquainted, answered, that the creek which had been crossed two miles back, ran through the prairie to the north of the village. A halt was then ordered, and some officers sent back to examine the creek, as well as the river above the town. In half an hour Brigade Major Marston Clarke, and Major Waller Taylor returned, and reported that they had found on the creek everything that could be desirable in an encampment — an elevated spot, nearly surrounded by BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE. 423 an open prairie, with water convenient, and a suf- ficiency of wood for fuel. An idea was propagated by the enemies of Go- vernor Harrison, after the battle of Tippecanoe, that the Indians had forced him to encamp on a place chosen by them as suitable for the attack they intended. The place, however, was chosen by Majors Taylor and Clarke, after examining all the environs of the town ; and when the army of General Hopkins was there in the following year, they all united in the opinion, that a better spot to resist Indians was not to be found in the whole country. The army now marched to the place selected, and encamped, late in the evening, on a dry piece of ground, which rose about ten feet above the level of a marshy prairie in front towards the town, and about twice as high above a similar prairie in the rear; through which, near the bank, ran a small stream, clothed with willows and brushwood. On the left of the encamp- ment, this bench of land became wider ; on the right it gradually narrowed, and terminated in an abrupt point, about one hundred and fifty yards from the right flank. The two columns of infantry occupied the front and rear. The right flank being about eight yards wide, was filled with Captain Spencer's com- pany of eighty men. The left flank, about one hun- dred and fifty yards in extent, was composed of three companies of mounted riflemen, under General Wells, commanding as major. The front line was composed of one battalion of United States infantry, under Major Floyd, and a regiment of Indiana militia, under Colonel Bartholo- 424 INDIAN WAR. mew. The rear line consisted of a battalion of Uni- ted States infantry, under Captain Baen, commanding as major, and four companies of Indiana volunteers, under Lieutenant-Colonel Decker. The right flank was composed of Spencer's company of Indiana vol- unteer riflemen ; the left flank of Robb's company of Indiana volunteers, and Guiger's, a mixed company of Kentucky and Indiana volunteers — a portion of Uni- ted States troops turning the left front, and left rear angles respectively. The cavalry under Major Da- viess were encamped in the rear of the front line, and left flank, and held in reserve as a disposable force. The encampment was not more than three-fourths of a mile from the Indian town. The order given to the army, in the event of a night attack, was for each corps to maintain its ground at all hazards till relieved. The dragoons were directed in such case to parade dismounted, with their swords on and their pistols in their belts, and to wait for orders. The guard for the night consisted of two captains' commands of twenty-four men and four non-commissioned officers; and two subalterns' guards of twenty men and non-commissioned officers — the whole under the command of a field-officer of the day. On the night of the 6th of November, the troops went to rest, as usual, with their clothes and accou- trements on, and their arms by their sides. The officers were ordered to sleep in the same manner, and it was the governor's invariable practice to be ready to mount his horse at a moment's warning. On the morning of the 7th, he arose at a quarter BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE. 425 Battle of Tippecanoe before four o'clock, and sat by the fire conversing with the gentlemen of his family, who were reclining on their blankets waiting for the signal, which in a few minutes would have been given, for the troops to turn out. The orderly drum had already been roused for the reveille. The moon had risen, but afforded little light, in consequence of being overshadowed by clouds, which occasionally discharged a drizzling rain. At this moment the attack commenced. The treacherous Indians had crept up so near the sentries as to hear them challenge when relieved. They intended to rush upon the sentries and kill them before they could fire ; but one of them discovered an 36* 426 INDIAN WAR. Indian creeping towards him in the grass, and fired This was immediately followed by the Indian yell, and a desperate charge upon the left flank. The guard in that quarter gave way, and abandoned their officer without making any resistance. Captain Barton's company of regulars, and Captain Guiger's company of mounted riflemen, forming the left angle of the rear line, received the first onset. The fire there was excessive ; but the troops who had lain on their arms were immediately prepared to receive, and had gal- lantry to resist the furious savage assailants. The manner of the attack was calculated to discourage and terrify the men ; yet as soon as they could be formed and posted, they maintained their ground with desperate valour, though but few of them had ever before been in battle. The fires of the camp were extinguished immediately, as the light they afforded was more serviceable to the Indians than to our men — except those opposite Barton's and Guiger's com- panies, which the suddenness of the attack left no time to put out. Upon the first alarm the governor mounted his horse, and proceeded towards the point of attack ; and, finding the line much weakened there, he ordered two companies from the centre of the rear line to march up, and form across the angle in the rear of Barton's and Guiger's companies. In passing through the camp towards the left of the front line, he met with Major Daviess, who informed him that the Indians, concealed behind some trees near the line, were annoying the troops very severely in that quarter, and requested permission to dislodge them. BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE. 427 In attempting this exploit he fell, mortally wounded, as did Colonel Isaac White, of Indiana, who acted as a volunteer in his troop. In the mean time, the attack on Spencer's and Warwick's companies, on the right, became very severe. Captain Spencer and his lieutenants were all killed, and Captain Warwick was mortally wounded. The governor, in passing towards that flank, found Captain Rohb's company near the centre of the camp. They had been driven from their post; or, rather, had fallen back without orders. He led them to the aid of Captain Spencer, where they fought very bravely, having seventeen men killed during the battle. While the governor was leading this com- pany into action, Colonel Owen, his aid, was killed at his side. This gallant officer was mounted on a very white horse ; and, as the governor had ridden a gray on the day before, it is probable that Owen was mistaken for him, as it is certain that he was killed by one of the only Indians who broke through the lines, and who are supposed to have resolved to sacrifice themselves in an attempt to insure victory by killing the commander-in-chief. The governor happened not to be mounted on his own gray ; his servant had accidentally tied that animal apart from the other horses belonging to the general staff; and, in the confusion occasioned by the attack, not being able to find this horse as quickly as was desirable, the governor mounted another. Captain Prescott's company of United States infantry had filled up the vacancy caused by the retreat of Robb's company. Soon after Daviess was 428 INDIAN WAR. wounded, Captain Snelling, by order of the governor, charged upon the same Indians, and dislodged them with considerable loss. The battle was now main- tained on all sides with desperate valour. The Indians advanced and retreated by a rattling noise made with deer-hoofs : they fought with enthusiasm, and seemed determined on victory or death. When the day dawned, Captain Snelling's com- pany, Captain Posey's under Lieutenant Allbright, Captain Scott's, and Captain Wilson's, were drawn from the rear, and formed on the left flank; while Cook's and Baen's companies were ordered to the right. General Wells was ordered to take command of the corps formed on the left, and, with the aid of some dragoons, who were now mounted, and com- manded by Lieutenant Wallace, to charge the enemy in that direction, which he did successfully — driving them into a swamp through which the cavalry could not pursue them. At the same time, Cook's and Lieutenant Larrabe's companies, with the aid of the riflemen and militia on the right flank, charged the Indians and put them to flight in that quarter, which terminated the battle. Constitution and Guerriere. CAPTURE OF THE GUERRIERE. HE first of the brilliant achievements of our navy in the late war, was the capture of the frigate Guer- riere by the frigate Consti- §11 tution, Captain Hull, which took place August 19, 1812. The most thrilling descrip- tion we have ever seen of this affair occurs in a modest little volume, published by the Appletons of New York, entitled, "Gallop among American Scenery, by A. E. Silliman.' , It is as follows : the author is 430 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. conversing with an old quartermaster, named Ken- nedy — ' I had previously had the hint given me, that a little adroit management would set him to spinning a yarn which would suit my fancy. So, watching a good opportunity, knowing that the old man had been with Hull in his fight with the Guerriere, I successfully gave a kick to the ball by remarking, " You felt rather uncomfortable, Kennedy, did you not, as you were bearing down on the Guerriere, taking broadside and broadside from her, without returning a shot ? You had time to think of your sins, my good fellow, as conscience had you at the gangway ?" " Well, sir," replied he, deliberately rolling his tobacco from one side of his mouth to the other, squirting the juice through his front teeth with true nautical grace — "Well, sir, that ere was the first frigate action as ever I was engaged in, and I am free to confess, I overhauled the log of my conscience to see how it stood, so it mought be I was called to muster in the other world in a hurry ; but I don't think any of his shipmates will say that Old Bill Kennedy did his duty any the worse that day, because he thought of his God, as he has many a time since at quarters. There's them as says the chaplain is paid for the re- ligion of the ship, and it's none of the sailors' business ; but I never seen no harm in an honest seaman's think- ing for himself. Howdsomever, I don't know the man who can stand by his gun at such time, tackle cast loose, decks sanded, matches lighted, arm-chests thrown open, yards slung, marines in the gangways, powder-boys passing ammunition buckets, ship as still CONSTITUTION AND GUERRIERE. 431 as death, officers in their iron-bound boarding-caps, cutlashes hanging by lanyards at their wrists, standing like statues at divisions, enemy may-be bearing down on the weather-quarter — I say, I does n't know the man at sich time, as won't take a fresh bite of his quid, and give a hitch to the waistbands of his trow- sers, as he takes a squint at the enemy through the port as he bears down. And as you say, at that par- ticular time the Guerriere (as is French for soger) was wearing and manoeuvring, and throwing her old iron into us, broadside and broadside, like as I have seen them Italians in Naples throw sugar-plums at each other in Carnival time. Afore she was through, though, she found it was no sugar-plum work, so far as Old Ironsides was consarned. You obsarve, when we first made her out, we seen she was a large ship close hauled on the starboard tack ; so we gave chase, and when within three miles of her, took in all our light sails, hauled courses up, beat to quarters, and got ready for action. She wore and manoeuvred for some time, endeavouring to rake, but not making it out, bore up under her jib, and topsails, and gallantly waited for us. Well, sir — as we walked down to her, there stands the old man, (Hull,) his swabs on his shoulders, dressed as fine in his yellow nankin vest and breeches, as if he was going ashore on leave — there he stands, one leg inside the hammock nettings, taking snuff out of his vest pockets, watching her manoeuvres, as she blazed away like a house a-fire, just as cool as if he was only receiving complimentary salutes. She burnt her brimstone, and was noisy — but never a gun fires we. Old Ironsides poked her 432 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. nose steady right down for her, carrying a bank of foam under her bows like a feather-bed cast loose. Well, as we neared her, and she wears first a-star- board. and then a-larboard, giving us a regular broad- side at every tack, her shot first falls short, but as we shortened the distance, some of them begins to come aboard — first among the rigging, and cuts away some of the stuff aloft, for them Englishmen did n't larn to fire low till we larnt "em. First they comes in aloft, but by-and-bye, in comes one — lower — crash — through the bulwarks, making the splinters fly like carpenter's chips — then another, taking a gouge out of the main- mast; and pretty soon again — i chit'' — I recollects the sound of that ere shot well — ' chit' — another dashed past my ear, and glancing on a gun-carriage, trips up the heels of three as good men as ever walked the decks of that ere ship ; and all this while, never a gun fires we ; but continues steadily eating our way right down on to his quarter, the old man standing in the hammock nettings, watching her movements as if she was merely playing for his amusement. Well, as we came within carronade distance, them shot was coming on board rather faster than mere fun, and some of the young sailors begins to grumble, and by-and-by, the old men-of-wars-men growled too, and worked rusty — cause why — they sees the enemy's mischief, and no- thing done by us to aggravate them in return. Says Bill Vinton, the vent-holder, to me, ' I say, Kennedy,' says he, ' what 's the use — if this here 's the way they fights frigates, dam'me ! but I'd rather be at it with the Turks agin, on their own decks, as we was at Tripoli. It *s like a Dutch bargain — all on one side. CONSTITUTION AND GUERRIERE. 433 I expects the next thing, they '11 order pipe down, and man the side-ropes for that ere Englishman to come aboard and call the muster-roll.' ' Avast a bit,' says I ; ' never you fear the old man. No English press- gang comes on board this ship — old Blow-hard knows what he 's about.' " Well, by-and-bye, Mr. Morris, our first lieutenant, who all the while had been walking up and down the quarter-deck, his trumpet under his arm, and his eyes glistening like a school-boy's just let out to play ; by-and-bye he began to look sour, 'ticularly when he sees his favourite coxswain of the first cutter, car- ried by a shot through the opposite port. So he first looks hard at the old man, and then walks up to him, and says by way of a hint, in a low tone, ' The ship is ready for action, sir, and the men are getting im- patient ;' — the old man never turns, but keeps his eye steadily on the enemy, while he replies, ' Are — you — all ready, Mr. Morris ?' — ' All ready, sir,' — says the lieutenant — ' Don't fire a gun till I give the orders, Mr. Morris,' — says the old man. Presently up comes a midshipman from the main-deck, touches his hat — ' First division all ready, sir, — the second lieutenant reports the enemy's shot have hurt his men, and he can with difficulty restrain them from returning their fire ;' — ' Tell him to wait for orders, Mr. Morris,' says the old man again — never turning his head. Well — just, you see, as the young gentleman turned to go below, and another shot carries off Mr. Bush, lieutenant of marines — just as we begins to run into their smoke, and even the old gun-boat men, as had been with De- catur and Somers, begins to stare, up jumps the old 37 Ee 434 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. man in the air, slaps his hand on his thigh with a report like a pistol, and roars out in a voice that reached the gunners in the magazines — ' Now, Mr. 'Morris, give it to them, — now give it to them — fore and aft — round and grape — give it to 'em, sir, — give it to 'em,' and the words was scarce out of his mouth before our whole broadside glanced at half pistol-shot — the old ship trembling from her keel to her trucks, like an aspen, at the roar of her own batteries — instantly shooting ahead and doubling across his bows, we gave him the other with three cheers, and then at it we went — regular hammer and tongs. You would a thought you were in a thunder-storm in the tropics, from the continual roar and flash of the batteries. In ten minutes his mizenmast went by the board. ' Hurrah !' shouts the old man ; 'hurrah, boys, we've made a brig of her. — Fire low, never mind their top-hamper! hurrah ! we'll make a sloop of her before we've done.' In ten minutes more, over went her mainmast, carrying twenty men overboard as it went ; and sure enough, sir, in thirty minutes, that ere Englishman was a sheer hulk, smooth as a canoe, not a spar standing but his bowsprit; and his decks so completely swept by our grape and canister, that there was barely hands enough left to haul down the colours, as they had bravely nailed to the stump of their mainmast ' I say, Kennedy,' says the vent-holder, to me, lying across the gun after she struck, looking out at the wrack through the port, and his nose was as black as a nigger's from the powder flashing under it — ' I say, I wonder how that ere Englishman likes the smell of the old man's snuff.' " TRAGICAL AFFAIR OF AN INDIAN CHIEF. OR obvious reasons, we shall pass over, without any par- ticular notice, the leading operations on land of the war of LSI 2 with Great Britain. There is nothing very heroic or thrilling in the surrender of General Hull at Detroit, or in the abortive attempts to invade Canada, on the Niagara frontier. Our notices of this period will be chiefly confined to acts of individual bravery, or the operations of small bodies of men. The first 436 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. we shall notice is the tragical death of Logan, an Indian ally of the United States. Shortly after the expedition by General Tupper to the Miami Rapids, in 1812, a tragical adventure occurred in the left wing of the army, which merits to be minutely recorded. Captain James Logan, a Shawnee chief, by order of General Harrison, pro- ceeded with a small party of his tribe to reconnoitre in the direction of the Rapids. He met with a superior force of \he enemy near that place, by which he was so closely pursued that his men were obliged to disperse for safety in their retreat. Logan, with two of his companions, Captain John and Bright- Horn, arrived safe at General Winchester's camp, where he faithfully reported the incidents of the excursion. But there were certain persons in the army who suspected his fidelity, and reproached him with being friendly to the enemy, and with communi- cating intelligence to them. The noble spirit of Logan could not endure the ungenerous charge. With the sensibility of a genuine soldier, he felt that his honour and fidelity should not only be pure and firm, but unsuspected. He did not, however, demand a court of inquiry ; following the natural dictates of a bold and generous spirit, he determined to prove by unequivocal deeds of valour and fidelity, that he was calumniated by his accusers. On the 22d of November, he proceeded the second time, accompanied only by the two persons named above, firmly resolved either to bring in a prisoner or a scalp, or to perish himself in the attempt. When he had gone about ten miles down the north side of DEATH OF LOGAN. 437 the Miami, he met with a British officer, the eldest son of Colonel Elliot, accompanied by five Indians. As the party was too strong for him, and he had no chance to escape, four of them being on horseback, he determined to pass them under the disguise of friendship for the British. He advanced with con- fident boldness, and a friendly deportment, to the enemy; but, unfortunately, one of them was Winemac, a celebrated Potawatamie chief, to whom the person and character of Captain Logan were perfectly well known. He persisted, however, in his first determi- nation, and told them he was going to the Rapids to give information to the British. After conversing some time, he proceeded on his way ; and Winemac, with all his companions, turned and went with him. As they travelled on together, Winemac and his party closely watched the others ; and, when they had proceeded about eight miles, he proposed to the British officer to seize and tie them. The officer replied, that they were completely in his power ; that if they attempted to run, they could be shot; or, failing in that, the horses could easily run them down. This consultation was overheard by Logan : he had previously intended to go on peaceably till night, and then make his escape ; but he now formed the bold design of extricating himself by a combat with double his number. Having signified his resolution to his men, he commenced the attack by shooting down Winemac himself. The action lasted till they had fired three rounds apiece, during which time Logan and his brave companions drove the enemy some distance, 37* 438 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. and separated them from their horses. By the first fire, both Winemac and Elliot fell ; by the second a young Ottawa chief lost his life ; and another of the enemy was mortally wounded about the conclusion of the combat, at which time Logan himself, as he was stooping down, received a ball just below the breast-bone : it ranged downwards, and lodged under the skin on his back. In the mean time, Bright- Horn was also wounded, by a ball which passed through his thigh. As soon as Logan was shot, he ordered a retreat ; himself and Bright-Horn, wounded as they were, jumped on the horses of the enemy and rode to Winchester's camp, a distance of twenty miles, in five hours. Captain John, after taking the scalp of the Ottawa chief, also retreated in safety, and arrived at the camp next morning. Logan had now rescued his character, as a brave and faithful soldier, from the obloquy which had un- justly been thrown upon him. But he preserved his honour at the expense of the next best gift of Heaven — his life. His wound proved mortal. He lived two days in agony, which he bore with uncommon fortitude, and died with the utmost composure and resignation. " More firmness and consummate bravery has seldom appeared on the military theatre," says Winchester, in his letter to the commanding general. " He was buried with all the honours due to his rank, and with sorrow as sincerely and generally displayed as I ever witnessed," says Major Hardin, in a letter to Governor Shelby. His physiognomy was formed on the best model, and exhibited the strongest marks of courage, intelligence, good humour, and sincerity. DEATH OF LOGAN. 439 It was said by the Indians that the British had offered one hundred and fifty dollars for his scalp. He had been very serviceable to our cause, by acting as a guide and a spy. He had gone with General Hull to Detroit, and with the first Kentucky troops, who marched to the relief of Fort Wayne. Captain Logan had been taken prisoner by General Logan, of Kentucky, in the year 1786, when he was a youth. The general, on parting with him, had given him his name, which he retained to the end of his life. Before the treaty of Greenville, he had dis- tinguished himself as a warrior, though still very young. His mother was a sister to the celebrated Tecumseh, and the Prophet. He stated, that in the summer preceding his death he had talked one whole night with Tecumseh, and endeavoured to persuade him to remain at peace; while Tecumseh, on the contrary, endeavoured to engage him in the war on the side of the British. His wife, when she was young, had also been taken prisoner, by Colonel Hardin, in 1789, and had remained in his family till the treaty of Greenville. In the army Logan had formed an attachment for Major Hardin, the son of the colonel, and son-in-law of General Logan, and now requested him to see that the money due for his services was faithfully paid to his family. He also requested that his family might be removed imme- diately to Kentucky, and his children educated and brought up in the manner of the white people. He observed that he had killed a great chief; that the hostile Indians knew where his family lived, and that 440 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. when he was gone a few base fellows might creep up and destroy them. Major Hardin having promised to do everything in his power to have the wishes of his friend fulfilled, immediately obtained permission from the general to proceed with Logan's little corps of Indians to the village of Wapoghconata, where his family resided. When they reached near the village, the scalp of the Ottawa chief was tied to a pole, to be carried in triumph to the council-house ; and Captain John, when they came in sight of the town, ordered the guns of the party to be fired in quick succession, on account of the death of Logan. A council of the chiefs was presently held, in which, after consulting two or three days, they decided against sending the family of their departed hero to Kentucky. They appeared, however, to be fully sensible of the loss they had sustained, and were sincerely grieved for his death, BATTLE AND MASSACRE AT THE RIVER RAISIN. ONG as our country has been exposed to savage warfare, no event in its history is more atrocious than the massacre of our people cap- tured by the British, at the river Raisin. On the even- ing of the 21st of January, 1812, Colonel Proctor left Maiden with six hundred British and Canadians, and upwards of one thousand Indians under the chiefs Splitlog and Roundhead, and at day-break of the 22d, commenced a furious attack upon the Americans. The left wing of General Winchester's troops, amounting to six hundred, were 442 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. stationed within the pickets, formed in a half circle. The British artillery were in front, the Canadians and Indians on each flank. The right wing, consisting of one hundred and fifty men, were in an exposed situa- tion without the pickets. Large bodies of Indians were stationed in the rear to intercept a retreat. The onset was first made on the right wing, which, after sustaining an unequal contest for twenty minutes, broke and fled across the river ; here they fell in with a body of Indians, and w r ere nearly all massacred. Two companies of fifty men each, which went out from the pickets to their assistance, shared the same fate. General Winchester and Colonel Lewis, in attempting to rally them, and bring them to a more advantageous position, were made prisoners. The left wing maintained their position, and fought with dis- tinguished valour, against treble their number, until eleven o'clock ; when General Winchester, having no hopes of success or escape for this band, capitulated for them ; stipulating for their safety and honourable treatment as prisoners of war, and particularly that the wounded should be protected from the fury of the savages. Three hundred and ninety-seven were slain in battle, or afterwards massacred by the Indians; the remainder all taken prisoners. The British ac- knowledge a loss of only twenty-four killed, and one hundred and fifty-eight wounded. This, however, is altogether short of the real number, as they sustained a constant and heavy fire from the troops within the pickets, from seven to eleven o'clock in the forenoon. Sixty-four wounded Americans were left on the ground ; these, by the aid of the inhabitants, had mostly been MASSACRE AT RIVER RAISIN. 443 removed into the neighbouring houses, and were ieft by the British with the promise that they should be trans- ported in sleighs to Maiden. On the morning of the 23d, a large body of In- dians came in, tomahawked and scalped these sufferers, then stripped them, plundered and set fire to the houses, and consumed the dead and dying in one undistinguished conflagration. The fate of Captain Hart was peculiarly distressing, though similar in many of its circumstances to a number of others. Early in the action he had received a wound in the knee, which prevented his walking. After the capitu- lation, Captain Elliott, an American in the British service, who had been a class-mate and a particular friend of Captain Hart, at Princeton College, came to him, voluntarily offered him his protection, and assured him he should be conveyed to Maiden, and taken care of in Elliott's house until he recovered. With these fair promises, he indulged the hope of speedy relief and recovery. But the next day he found himself in the hands of the savages. They tore him from the bed where he lay ; a brother officer rescued him, and conveyed him to another apartment. Here he was again assaulted. At length he bargained with one of the Indians for a hundred dollars to convey him to Maiden. They set off on horseback, and having travelled a few miles, were met by another band of savages, who claimed Captain Hart as their prisoner. The Indian not giving him up, the others shot and scalped him. Such of the wounded as were able to travel, the Indians carried off with them into the wilderness, and afterwards brought them into Detroit, 444 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. where they were ransomed and furnished with clothing by the inhabitants. Judge Woodward and Mr. M'Intosh, with other inhabitants of the Michigan ter- ritory, exerted themselves for the relief of the sufferers, and procured the release of all who survived of those who had been carried off by the Indians. General Harrison despatched Doctor M'Keehan with two attendants from Sandusky, to assist in dressing the wounded, with an open letter to General Winchester, a nag, and an address to Colonel Proctor, or any other British officer, stating his character and business, and furnished with money to procure necessaries. At the rapids of the Miami they entered a vacant house for a few hours' sleep, and left their flag hoisted in a sleigh at the door. They were soon fired upon by a party of Indians, one of the attendants killed, the doctor and the other made prisoners, and conveyed to Maiden, where they were treated as spies, put in close con- finement, and sent to Quebec; Proctor inhumanly remarking that the Indians were excellent doctors. The rites of sepulture were refused to the slain. On application to Colonel Proctor, for leave to bury the dead, he replied the Indians would not permit it. The few remaining wretched inhabitants privately buried Captain Hart and some others. This being discovered by the Indians, they were threatened with instant death if they buried any more ; and the mangled remains of the slain lay exposed in the fields, by the sides of the road, and in the woods, to the amount of upwards of two hundred, a prey to the wild beasts. Colonel Proctor seems to have permitted and even encouraged the barbarities of the Indians, to MASSACRE AT RIVER RAISIN. 445 induce them to continue the war, and strike terror into the American forces that should be opposed to them. The effect, however, was the reverse of despondence. Though Kentucky was in mourning for the loss of many of her brave sons, yet, on the news of this event, new volunteers, in ample numbers, rallied around the standard of their country, and were eventually suc- cessful in avenging their losses. After the surrender of Detroit, General Brock, having committed the civil and military concerns of the Michigan territory to Colonel PrQctor, and appointed him commandant at Maiden, returned to the defence of the Niagara frontier, and established his head- quarters at Fort George. 38 *Mm4$M*':* ~$m CAPTAIN HOLMES'S EXPEDITION. ARLY in the spring of 1813, a small force, consisting of about one hundred and eighty ran- gers and mounted infantry, under Captain Holmes, was Jjjjp despatched by Lieutenant-Co- lonel Butler, the commander at Detroit, against Delaware, a British post on the river Thames. This detachment had set out with artillery, but the state of the country presenting invincible obstacles in its transportation, it was left behind. By this means, and by sending back the sick to Detroit, HOLMES'S EXPEDITION. 447 Holmes's little force was diminished to about one hun- dred and sixty men. On the 3d of March, intelligence was received that a body of the enemy, nearly double his force, was descending the Thames, one-half of whom were re- gulars, and the remainder militia and Indians. Holmes immediately retreated a few miles, and took an ex- cellent position on the western bank of a creek, which ran through a deep and wide ravine. Captain Gill was left, with a few rangers, to cover the rear, and watch the motions of the enemy ; but hardly had the main body encamped before they were joined by the rangers, who had been driven in after exchanging a few shots with the British advanced corps, in a vain attempt to reconnoitre their forces. During the night of the 3d, the British encamped upon the eastern height, and next morning succeeded in drawing Captain Holmes from his position by a well contrived stratagem, which, had it been skilfully followed up, could hardly have failed to eventuate in the destruction of the American detachment. For- tunately, however, this was not the case. At sunrise the enemy exhibited a small and scattered force on the opposite heights, who retreated after ineffectually firing at the American camp; and the reconnoitering party reported that the retreat was conducted with precipitation, the baggage left scattered on the road, and that, judging from their trail and fires, they could not exceed seventy men. Mortified at having retro- graded from this diminutive force, Holmes instantly commenced the pursuit, and resumed the idea of attacking the enemy's post. He had not, however, 448 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. proceeded beyond five miles, when his advance dis- covered the enemy in considerable force, arranging themselves for battle. The stratagem of the enemy being now apparent, Captain Holmes instantly took advantage of the blun- der which they had committed, in not throwing them- selves in his rear, and thus placing his detachment between a fortified position and a superior force ; and happily, he soon regained his former position. Here, placing his horses and baggage in the centre, he formed his troops on foot in a hollow square, to prevent the necessity of evolution, which such raw troops are incompetent to perform in action. Holmes thus calmly awaited the approach of the enemy, in defiance of the murmurs of his men, who were unanimously in favour of a retreat, thinking it madness to engage with so superior a force. The attack was commenced simultaneously on every front, the militia and Indians attacking the north, west, and south, with savage yells and bugles sounding, and the regulars charging from the ravine on the east. The latter bravely approached to within twenty paces of the American line, against the most destructive fire. But the front section being shot to pieces, those who followed much thinned and wounded, and many of the officers cut down, they were forced to abandon the charge, and take cover in the woods in diffused order, within from fifteen to thirty paces of their antagonists. The charge of the British regulars thus repulsed, they had recourse to their ammunition, and the firing increased on both sides with great vivacity. The American regulars, being uncovered, HOLMES'S EXPEDITION. 449 were ordered to kneel, that the brow of the heights might assist in screening them from the view of the enemy. But the enemy's cover also proved insuffi- cient, a common-sized tree being unable to protect even one man from the extended line of Americans, much less the squads that often stood and breathed their last together. On the other three sides the firing was also sus- tained with much coolness, and with considerable loss to the foe. The troops on those sides being protected by logs hastily thrown together, and the enemy not charging, both the rifle and the musket were aimed at leisure, with that deadly certainty which dis- tinguishes the American backwoodsman. Unable to sustain so unequal a contest, therefore, and favoured by the shades of twilight, the British commenced a general retreat, after an hour's close and gallant conflict. Captain Holmes declined a pursuit, as the enemy were still superior both in numbers and discipline, and as the night would have insured success to an ambuscade. Besides, as the creek would have to be passed, and the heights ascended, the attempt to pursue would have given the enemy the same ad- vantage which produced their defeat, — as it could be passed on horseback at no other point, and the troops being fatigued and frost-bitten, and their shoes cut to pieces by the frozen ground, it was not possible to pursue on foot. Captain Holmes, accordingly, re- turned to Detroit. The American loss, in killed and wounded, on this occasion, amounted only to a non-commissioned 38* 450 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. officer and six privates. The British official account states their loss at fourteen killed, fifty-one wounded, one missing, and one officer wounded and taken. Two of the officers were killed, and the same number wounded. The statement does not include the loss of the Indians. The whole American force in action consisted of one hundred and fifty rank and file, of whom, including the rangers, seventy were militia. The British regulars were from one hundred and fifty to one hundred and eighty strong, and the militia and Indians fought upon three sides of the square. CAPTURE OF THE CALEDONIA AND DETROIT. HIS gallant achievement of Lieutenant (afterwards Com- modore) Elliot, is thus de- scribed in his official letter to the Secretary of the Navy, dated October 9th, 1812 : "Sir: I have the honour to inform you, that on the morning of the 8th instant, two British vessels, which I was informed were his Bri- 452 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. tannic majesty's brig Detroit, late the United States brig Adams, and the brig Hunter, mounting fourteen guns, but which afterwards proved to be the brig Caledonia, both said to be well armed and manned, came down the lake, and anchored under protection of Fort Erie. Having been on the lines for some time, and, in a measure, inactively employed, I determined to make an attack, and, if possible, get possession of them. A strong inducement to this attempt arose from a conviction that, with two vessels added to those which I have purchased, and am fitting out, I should be able to meet the remainder of the British force on the upper lakes, and save an incalculable expense and labour to the government. On the morn- ing of their arrival, I heard that our seamen were but a short distance from this place, and immediately despatched an express to the officers, directing them to use all possible despatch in getting the men to this place, as I had important service to perform. On their arrival, which was about twelve o'clock, I dis- covered that they had only about twenty pistols, and neither cutlasses nor battle-axes ; but on application to Generals Smyth and Hall, of the regulars and militia, I was supplied with a few arms ; and General Smyth was so good, on my request, as immediately to detach fifty men from the regulars, armed with muskets. By four o'clock in the afternoon, I had my men selected and stationed in two boats, which I had previously prepared for the purpose. With those boats, fifty men in each, and under circumstances very disadvantageous, my men having had scarcely time to refresh themselves, after a fatiguing march of five CAPTURE. OF THE BRITISH BRIGS. 453 hundred miles, I put off from the mouth of Buffalo Creek, at one o'clock the following morning, and at three I was alongside the vessels. In about ten minutes I had the prisoners all secured, and the top- sails sheeted home, and the vessels under way. "Unfortunately the wind was not sufficiently strong to get me up against a rapid current into the lake, where I understood another armed vessel lay at anchor ; and I was obliged to run down the river by the forts, under a heavy fire of round, grape, and canister, from a number of pieces of heavy ordnance, and several pieces of flying artillery, and was com- pelled to anchor at a distance of about four hundred yards from two of their batteries. After the discharge of the first gun, which was from the flying artillery, I hailed the shore, and observed to the officer that if another gun was fired I would bring the prisoners on deck and expose them to the same fate we should all share ; but, notwithstanding, they disregarded the caution, and continued a constant and destructive fire. One single moment's reflection determined me not to commit an act that would subject me to the imputation of barbarity. " The Caledonia had been breached in as safe a position as the circumstances would admit of, under one of our batteries at Black Rock. I now brought all the guns of the Detroit on the side next the enemy, stationed the men at them, and directed a *■ fire, which was continued as long as our ammunition lasted and circumstances permitted. During the contest I endeavoured to get the Detroit on our side, by sending a boat (there being no wind) on shore, 454 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. with all the line I could muster ; but the current beino; so strong that the boat could not reach the shore, I hailed our shore, and requested that warps should be made on the land and sent on board ; the attempt to all which again proved useless, as the fire was such as would in all probability sink the vessel in a short time. I determined to drop down the river out of reach of the batteries, and make a stand against the flying artillery. I accordingly cut the cable and made sail, with very light airs ; and, at that instant, discovered that the pilot had abandoned me. I dropped astern for about ten minutes, when I was brought up on our shore on Squaw Island ; got the boarding-boat ready, had all the prisoners put in and sent on shore, with directions for the officer to return for me and what property we could get from the brig. He did not return, owing to the difficulty of the boats getting on shore. Discovering a skiff under the counter, I sent the four remaining prisoners in the boat, and with my officer I went on shore to bring the boat off. I asked for protection of the brig of Lieutenant-Colonel Scott, who readily gave it. At this moment I discovered a boat with about forty soldiers from the British side, making for the brig. They got on board, but were soon compelled to abandon her, with the loss of nearly all their men. During the whole of this morning, both sides of the river kept up alternately a constant fire on the brig, and so much injured her that it was impossible to have floated her. Before I left her she had received twelve shot of large size in her bends, her sails in ribbons, and her rigging all cut to pieces. CAPTURE OF THE BRITISH BRIGS, 455 " To my officers and men I feel under great obliga- tions; to Captain Towson and Lieutenant Roach, of the 2d regiment of artillery, Ensign Priestman, of the infantry, to Cornelius Chapin, Mr. John M'Coub, Messrs. John Tower, Thomas Davis, Peter Overtaks, James Sloan, resident gentlemen of Buffalo, for their soldier and sailor-like conduct ; in a word, every man fought with his heart animated only by the interest and honour of his country. The prisoners I have turned over to the military. The Detroit had six six- pound long guns, a commanding lieutenant of marines, a boatswain and gunner, and fifty-six men, about thirty American prisoners on board, muskets, pistols, and battle-axes ; in boarding her I lost one man, one officer wounded, Mr. John C. Cummings, acting mid- shipman, a bayonet through the leg ; his conduct was correct, and deserves the notice of the department. The Caledonia mounted two small guns, blunderbusses, pistols, muskets, cutlasses, boarding- pikes, twelve men, including officers, and ten prisoners on board ; the boat boarding her was commanded by sailing-master George Watts, who performed his duty in a masterly style ; he had but one man killed, and four badly wounded, I am afraid mortally. I enclose you a list of the officers and men engaged in the enterprise, and also a view of the lake and river, in the different situations of attack. The Caledonia belonged to the N. W. Company, laden with furs, worth, I understand, two thousand dollars. « Signed— JESSE D. ELLIOTT. "Hon. Paul Hamilton, "Secretary of the Navy" Commodore Jones. THE WASP AND FROLIC. ATER achievements of our navy, on a large scale, have not been sufficient to efface the recollec- tion of the brilliant action of pthe United States sloop-of-war ~ Wasp, under the command of Captain Jones, and the British sloop-of-war Frolic. THE WASP AND FROLIC. 457 In 1811, Captain Jones was transferred by the Secretary of the Navy to the command of the sloop- of-war the Wasp, mounting eighteen twenty-four- pound carronades, and was despatched, in the spring of 1812, with communications from our government to its functionaries at the courts of St. Cloud and St. James. Before he returned from this voyage, war had been declared by the United States against Great Britain. Captain Jones refitted his ship with all possible despatch, and repaired to sea on a cruise, in which he met with no other luck than the capture of an inconsiderable prize. He sailed from the port of Philadelphia on the 13th of October, 1812, with a gallant set of officers, and a high-spirited and confident crew. On the 16th of the same month the Wasp encountered a heavy gale, during which she lost her jibboom and two valuable seamen. On the following night, being a bright moonlight, a seaman on the look-out discovered five strange sail, steering eastward. The Wasp hauled to the wind- ward and closely watched the movements of these vessels until daylight next morning, being the 18th, when it was found that they were six large merchant vessels under convoy of a sloop-of-war. The former were well manned, two of them mounting sixteen guns each. Notwithstanding the apparent disparity of force, Captain Jones determined to hazard an attack ; and, as the weather was boisterous, and the swell of the sea unusually high, he ordered down the topgallant yards, closely reefed the topsails, and prepared for action. The convoy sailed ahead and lay to, five or 39 458 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. six miles distant, while the sloop-of-war, with Spanish colours flying, remained under easy sail, the Wasp coming down to windward on her larboard side, within pistol-shot, displaying the American ensign and pennant. Upon the enemy's being hailed, he hauled down the Spanish flag, hoisted the British ensign, and opened a broadside of cannon and musketry. The fire was promptly returned by the Wasp, the vessels gradually neared each other, and each maintained the combat with great animation, the English vessel firing with most rapidity, but, as the result proved, with no great precision. In a few minutes after the com- mencement of the action, the maintopmast of the Wasp was shot away, and falling on the topsail yard, across the larboard fore and foretopsail braces, caused the head yards to be unmanageable during the con- tinuance of the action. In two or three minutes more the gaft and mizen topgallant sail were shot away. Each vessel continued in the position in which the action commenced, and maintained a close and spirited fire. Captain Jones directed his officers not to fire except when the vessel rolled downwards, so that the shot was either poured on the enemy's deck, or below it, while the English fired as soon as they had loaded, without regard to the position of their vessel, and thus their balls were either thrown away, or passed through the rigging. The Wasp now passed ahead of the enemy, raked her, and resumed her original position. It was now obvious that the Wasp had greatly the advantage in the combat, and Captain Jones thought the contest might be speedily decided by boarding, but hesitated because the roughness of THE WASP AND FROLIC. 459 Wasp and Frol i c . the sea might endanger the safety of both vessels if brought in contact. As, however, the braces and rigging of the Wasp were so injured by the shot of the enemy that he was fearful his masts, being unsup- ported, would go by the board, and that the enemy might escape ; he therefore determined at all hazards to board, and thus decide the contest. With this determination he wore ship, and ran athwart the enemy's bow, so that the jibboom came in between the main and mizen rigging of the Wasp. The enemy was now in a position so inviting for a raking broadside, that one was promptly ordered. So closely in contact were the contending vessels, that while loading, the 460 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. rammers of the Wasp struck against the sides of the opposing vessel, so that two of the guns of the former entered through the bow ports of the latter, and swept the whole length of the deck. At this juncture a sprightly and gallant seaman, named Jack Lang, who had once been impressed on board a British man- of-war, jumped on a gun with his cutlass, and was about to leap on board the enemy, when Captain Jones ordered him back, wishing to give a closing broadside before boarding. His impetuosity, however, could not be restrained ; and observing the ardour of the crew generally, Lieutenant Biddle and Booth gal- lantly led them on, but to their great surprise, when they reached the enemy's deck, not a single uninjured individual was found on deck except the seaman at the wheel, and three officers. The deck was covered with the dying and dead, and was slippery with blood. When Lieutenant Biddle reached the quarterdeck, the commander and two other officers threw down their swords, and made an inclination of their bodies, thus affording evidence that they had surrendered. During the early part of the action, the ensign of the enemy had been shot down, upon which a British seaman carried it aloft again and nailed it to the mast. In this state it continued floating, they not being able to lower it until one of the United States officers ascended the rigging and tore it from its attachments. In forty-three minutes from the commencement of the action, full possession was taken of the enemy, which proved to be his Britannic Majesty's sloop-of-war Frolic, commanded by Captain Whynyates. On examining the berthdeck, it was found crowded THE WASP AND FROLIC. 461 with the dead and wounded, there being but an incon- siderable proportion of the crew of the Frolic which had escaped unhurt. Soon after Lieutenant Biddle took possession of the enemy, her masts fell by the board, so that she lay a complete wreck. The contest being now terminated, Captain Jones ordered Dr. New, the assistant surgeon of the Wasp, to visit the wounded enemy, and to carry with him everything on board, which could in any manner contribute to their comfort. The force of the Frolic consisted of sixteen thirty- two-pound carronades, four twelve-pounders on the maindeck, and two twelve-pound carronades. She was, therefore, superior to the Wasp by four twelve- pounders. The officers of the Frolic stated that the number of men on the ship's books was one hundred and ten ; but, as boats were seen plying between the Frolic and some of the convoy, in the morning, before the action, it was believed that she received many volunteers in addition to her regular crew. This belief was strengthened by the circumstance, that one of the vessels in the convoy came alongside the Wasp next morning after her capture, and asked assistance to reef his sails, as he had but two men and a boy on board. It was intimated that he had thus diminished his crew by allowing volunteers to go on board the Frolic. The officers, seamen, marines, and boys on board the Wasp, numbered one hundred and thirty-five; which, from the best information that could be ob- tained, was less in number than that of the enemy. Both vessels, however, had more men than was es- sential to their efficiency ; and the officers of the Frolic 39* 462 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. candidly acknowledged, that they had more men than they knew what to do with. It appears, therefore, that while there was an equality of strength in the crews, there was an inequality in the number of guns and weight of metal — the Frolic having four twelve- pounders more than the Wasp. The exact number of killed and wounded on board the Frolic, could not be ascertained with any degree of precision ; but, from the admissions of the British officers, it was supposed that the number killed was about thirty, including two officers ; and of those wounded, between forty and fifty. The captain and every other officer on board, were more or less severely wounded. The Wasp sustained a loss of only five men killed and five wounded. Lieutenant Allen. GALLANT CONDUCT OF LIEUTENANT ALLEN AT THE CAPTURE OF THE MACEDONIAN. HORTLY after the declaration of war against Great Britain, in 1812, the frigate United States sailed upon a cruise, under the command of Commodore Deca- tur, and on the 25th of October, 1812, in latitude 29° N., longi- tude 29° 3(y W., fell in with his 464 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. Britannic Majesty's ship, the Macedonian, commanded by Captain Carden. She was a frigate of the largest class, mounting forty-nine carriage guns, and reputed one of the swiftest sailers in the British navy. When this frigate first hove in sight, and while orders were given on board the United .States to prepare for action, Lieutenant Allen mounted aloft; and, after watching her closely for some time, at length dis- covered the English pennant. He descended to his comrades, who were impatiently awaiting him below, and jocosely pronounced the frigate a lawful prize. The enemy having the advantage of the wind, fought at his own distance, and the contest was kept up for one hour and fifty minutes. The United States poured such an incessant fire, that the shouts from the crew of the Macedonian were distinctly heard, who, from that cause, apprehended her to be in flames. Her colours were, nevertheless, hauled down shortly afterwards. In the engagement, she lost her mizen- mast, fore and maintopmast, and mainyard. She was likewise much damaged in her hull. Thirty-six were killed and forty-eight wounded. On board the United States five only were killed, and seven wounded. The American frigate received so little damage in this engagement, that she would still have continued her cruise, had it not been necessary for her to accompany her prize into port, on account of the crippled state of the British frigate. Any com- ments on this splendid action — an action so glorious to the arms of our countrymen — would surely now be needless. In the frigate United States, Lieutenant Allen was LIEUTENANT ALLEN. 465 most assiduous in exercising and training the crew to the use of the artillery. The accuracy with which the guns were directed, and the celerity with which they could be fired, evince the improvement of their discipline ; and, indeed, it could not be surpassed. After Captain Carden had gone on board the United States, Lieutenant Allen requested the other officers to go in a boat which was ready for them. The first lieutenant of the Macedonian surlily said, " You do not intend to send me away without my baggage ?" " I hope," replied Allen, " you do not suppose you have been taken by privateersmen?" " I do not know" — replied the other rudely — " by whom I am taken." Lieutenant Allen sternly ordered him instantly into the boat, and he immediately went. Lieutenant Allen placed a guard over the baggage of the officers, and, as soon as the other duties which demanded his at- tention were concluded, he sent the same day all the baggage on board the United States. The surgeon of the Macedonian continued on board; and he fre- quently, in conversation, bore testimony to the kind- ness of Lieutenant Allen, toward that part of the crew remaining in the Macedonian, particularly toward the wounded. The wardroom officers of the Macedonian expressed to the wardroom officers of the United States, a deep sense of the civilities which they had received ; and wished to give jointly another expres- sion of their gratitude, in a writing which might be considered as a letter to all British officers, to secure their good treatment, in case the United States should 466 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. be captured. This certificate of protection was very properly declined. To Lieutenant Allen was intrusted the honourable charge of bringing the prize into port, and she safely arrived in the harbour of New York, amidst the enthusiastic gratulations of our countrymen. His share in this glorious action cannot be better ex- pressed than in the words of Commodore Decatur himself: " It would be unjust," continues this gallant officer, " it would be unjust in me to discriminate, where all met my fullest expectations. Permit me, however, to recommend to the particular notice of the Secretary, my first lieutenant, William H. Allen, who has served with me upwards of five years ; and to his unremitted exertions, in disciplining the crew, is to be imputed the obvious superiority of our gunnery, lexhibited in the result of this contest." The corporation and citizens of New York honoured him and his commander with a splendid and superb festival ; and the legislatures of Rhode Island and Virginia presented him with a sword, as a testimonial of their sense of his gallant services. There was everything in this victory, which could gratify the pride of an American. The individual injury done to our enemy by the loss of a frigate, or the advantage to ourselves, by acquiring one, is nothing. It in- spires a loftiness of feeling, a confidence, that is communicated to other souls, and introduces a strain of patriotic sensations perfectly novel. It breaks the sea-spell that seemed to surround the navy of England. Commodore Bainbridge. CAPTURE AND DESTRUCTION OF THE JAVA. ONG before the commence- ment of the last war with Great Britain, Commodore s|£f Bainbridge had established the highest character for bravery and ability as a naval commander. The United States de- 468 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. clared war against Great Britain on the 18th of June, 1812, and Commodore Bainbridge was not satisfied to remain on shore, comparatively inactive, when danger and glory were to be courted on the sea. He applied for the command of a frigate, and was ap- pointed to the Constellation thirty-eight, with orders to prepare her for sea with all despatch. His arrange- ments were not yet completed, when Captain Hull arrived in Boston with the Constitution, after achieving his splendid victory over the Guerriere. As Hull was obliged to resign his command, on account of some private affairs which required his immediate attention, Bainbridge requested to be transferred to his frigate. This request was complied with, and the Essex and Hornet being also placed under his orders at the same time, he hoisted his broad pennant on board the Constitution, September 15, 1812. The Essex, then in the Delaware, was ordered to rendezvous at the Cape de Verde Isles ; but she was prevented by the events of the cruise from joining the rest of the squadron. The Constitution and Hornet sailed on the 26th October, and arrived off St. Sal- vador on the 13th December. On the 29th, in lati- tude 13° 6' S, and about ten leagues from the coast of Brazil, the Constitution fell in with an enemy's frigate, the Java, bound for the East Indies, with a number of supernumerary officers and seamen for the Bombay station. The commodore, finding the frigate fairly within his reach, prepared with alacrity for action. The stranger showed English colours, and bore down with the intention of raking the Constitution. Bainbridge avoided this, and the CAPTURE OF THE JAVA. 469 enemy having hauled down colours, and left flying a jack only, the commodore gave orders to fire ahead of the enemy to make him show full colours. This was returned with a full broadside, and a general action commenced, both ships striving to rake and to avoid being raked. Soon after the commencement of the action, Bain- bridge received a ball in the hip ; and a few minutes later a shot carried away the wheel, and drove a small bolt with violence into his thigh. These injuries did not induce him to sit down, and he continued on deck, giving orders, until eleven o'clock at night. The action lasted an hour and fifty-five minutes, when the enemy struck her flag, and the American commodore sent Lieutenant Parker to take possession. The Java was commanded by Captain Lambert, a distin- guished officer, who was mortally wounded, and died a few days after the battle. The enemy's loss was not less than sixty killed and one hundred wounded. The Constitution lost nine killed, and twenty-five wounded. The two vessels presented a striking con- trast in appearance, at the close of the action ; the Constitution " actually coming out of the battle as she had gone into it, with royal-yards across, and every spar, from the highest to the lowest, in its place," though some of them were considerably in- jured ; while the Java lay upon the water an unma- nageable wreck, with every spar shot away, and but a few stumps left standing. Bainbridge displayed great kindness in the treatment of his prisoners ; and, having destroyed his prize, he landed his captives at St. Salvador, on parole of honour not to engage in hos- tilities against the United States, until exchanged. 40 > o r 1 1 e from Fort Meij SIEGE OF FORT MEIGS. PON the 23d of January, 1813, the day after the unfortunate, surrender of General Win- chester to the British, General Harrison retreated to Carrying river, about midway between Sandusky and the Miami. In February, he advanced again to the Rapids, where he erected a fort, which, in honour of the governor of Ohio, he called Fort Meigs. It covered about nine acres of ground, and was nearly in an octagonal form. It had strong SIEGE OF FORT MEIGS. 471 block-houses at the corners, with cannon mounted so as to sweep the lines, and command the surrounding country. The intervals were filled up with picketings in the usual style of the frontier forts of the west. In addition to this there were several long batteries mounted with cannon. The term of service of many of Harrison's volun- teers having expired, twelve hundred men from Ken- tucky, under General Clay, were sent to supply their place. Leaving Cincinnati early in April, they arrived in the neighbourhood of Fort Meigs on the 4th of May, when their scouts brought intelligence that the woods were swarming with an immense force of Bri- tish and Indians under General Proctor, who was holding Harrison under close siege in the fort. The siege had already lasted four days ; but Clay had the address to convey intelligence of his approach to Harrison, and to concert with him a plan for striking a severe blow on the enemy. General Clay proceeded down the river in his boats, landed eight hundred men on the left bank of the river, advanced rapidly, and made a dash at the enemy's bat- teries. Taken wholly by surprise, the British never- theless resisted with their usual valour, but the impetu- osity of the Kentuckians carried everything before them ; the cannoneers were bayoneted at their guns — the batteries were carried, and the guns spiked. But the ardour of the men, inspirited by this brilliant success, carried them too far. Instead of recrossing the river, as they should have done, they pursued the flying enemy into the woods, and were soon surrounded by the whole force of the British and Indians. A con- 472 SECOND WAR WITH ENGLAND. siderable part of the detachment were overpowered, and became prisoners. Abandoned by the barbarian Proctor to the tomahawks of the savages, they were rapidly falling victims to their ferocity, when Tecum- seh, the great Indian chief, coming suddenly upon the ground, with a trait of humanity of which the British commander was incapable, instantly exerted his autho- rity to arrest the massacre, and meeting with a Chip- pewa chief who would not desist for persuasion nor threats, he buried his tomahawk in his head. Notwithstanding the unfortunate issue of this part of General Clay's operations, the remainder of his reinforcement, aided by a well conducted sortie on the part of the besieged, succeeded in relieving the fort ; and Proctor, being deserted by the Indians, who could not be prevented from returning to their villages, as is their custom after any battle of consequence, with their prisoners and plunder, made a precipitate retreat on the 9th of May, having previously secured his ordnance on board a sloop. General. Pike. CAPTURE OF YORK AND DEATH OF GENERAL PIKE.