TS 
 
 735 
 
 IC-NRLF 
 
 SB 577 
 
 l nd Series 
 
 COLONIAL 
 
LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 OF 
 
 Received 
 Accession No. 
 
 . Class No. 
 
The Towle Mfg. Company 
 <*?> ^ SILVERSMITHS **> ^ 
 
 Newburyport, Mass. "^ Chicago, 111. 
 
 Copyright, 1899, by The Towle Mfg. Company. 
 
 STERLING 
 
900110, forftg 
 
 anb all otljer pieces of *&*t)le 
 
 in tl)i fioofe, in 
 
 i afeo gitoen an account of tljc ttjirt 
 
 of tljcJllar of tfte Krtiolutfon 
 
 anb t^e act^ of oppreion toljiclj prcccUcti 
 
 anti probofteb tt;i^ to tol^icl) are attocti #untirp 
 
 anti 
 
 i&entifteti 
 
 i# momentous conflict >anti in 
 
 exemplifying tfte (folonfal, or mo^t 
 
 property calleb 
 
 of 
 
 tecture, from toljicft t^e fcegign of t^ pattern 
 
 beribeti; tofticfj #tple toa# ftr^t protmcefc to 
 
 to tdcrigtjtrrnt)) tentuta? anb 
 
 toa^tftere^ult of an adaptation of cla##ical 
 
 element^ to neto condition^ of application, anb 
 
the KING, 
 
 A PROCLAMATION, 
 
 For fupprefllng Rebellion and Sedition. 
 GEORGE R. 
 
 HERE AS many ot Our Subjects in divers Parts of Our Colonies and Plantations 
 in Nanh America, milled by dangerous and iil-dcfigning Men, and forgetting 
 the Allegiance which they owe to the Power that has protected and fuftained 
 them, after various diforderlv Acts committed in Difturbance of the Publiclc 
 Peace, to the Obftruction of lawful Commerce, and to the OpprelTton of Our 
 loyal Subjects carrying on the fame, have at length proceeded to an open and 
 avowed Rebellion, by arraying themfelves in hoftile Manner to withftand the 
 Execution of the Law, and traitoroufly preparing, ordering, and ' levying War 
 againft Us; And whereas there is Reafon.to apprehend that fuch Rebellion hath 
 been much promoted and encouraged by the traitt rous Correfpondence, Counfels, and Comfort of 
 divers wicked and defperate Perfoiis within this Realm : To the End therefore that none of Our Subjects 
 may neglect or violate their Duty through Ignorance thcreot, or through any Doubt 'of the Protection 
 which the Law will afford to their Loyalty and Zeal ; We have thought fit, by and with the Advice of 
 Our Privy Council, to ilTue this Our Royal Proclamation, hereby declaring that not only all Our 
 Officers Civil and Military are obliged to exert their utmoft Endeavours to fupprefs fuch Rebellion, and 
 to bring the Traitors to Juftice; but that all Our Subjects of this Realm and the Dominions' thereunto 
 belonging are bound by Law to be aiding and a(Tifting,ii\ the Suppreffion of fuch Rebellion, and to 
 difclofe and make known all traitorous Confpiracies and Attempts againft Us, Our Crown and Dignity; 
 And We do accordingly ftrjctly charge and command all Our Officers as well Civil as Military, 
 and all other Our obedient and loyal Subjects, to ufe their utmoft Endeavours to withftand and 
 fupprefs fuch. Rebellion, and to difclofe and make known all Treafons and traitorous Confpi- 
 r.icics which 'they /hall know to be againft Us, Our Crown and Dignity; and for that Purpofe, 
 That they tranfmit to One of Our Principal Secretaries of State, or other proper Officer, due and 
 full Information of all Perfons who fhall be found carrying on Correfpondence with, or in any 
 Manner or Degree aiding or abetting the Perfons now in open Arms , and . Rebellion againft Our 
 Government within any of Our Colonies and Plantations ii> North America, in order to bring to 
 condign PunifKment tht Authors, Perpetrators, and Abettors of fuch traitorous Defigns. 
 
 Given at Our Court at St Jamets, the Twenty-third Day of Augufl, One ihoufand 
 feven hundred and feventy-five, in the Fifteenth Year of Our Reign. 
 
 God fave the King. 
 
 LONDON, 
 
 Printed by Charlei Ejrt and William Siralaa. Printers to the King's moil Excellent Majefly, 
 
11111111111 ..... \\r- 
 
 111 "= N the outskirts of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, by the water's edge, 
 
 r ~" : stands a picturesque old mansion that will, if we are so minded, carry 
 us backward, at one step, to the "Old Colony days" when George 
 \\r- Ill ruled over the English people on both sides of the Atlantic. 
 
 It was built by Governor Benning Wentworth, and from under its roof 
 issued those first edicts of oppression that stirred the people to revolt. Within 
 its walls one needs but little help from fancy to people it again with loyal re- 
 tainers, assembled, perhaps, in its ancient council chamber, with ample chim- 
 ney-piece, the carven heads of which might, could they exercise the privilege of 
 their sex, reveal many a bit of inner history. We are prosaic indeed if we do not 
 feel the menace of sudden alarms suggested by the grim array of muskets on either 
 side of the stoutly barred door ; and the discovery of a prisoner's ward, tucked away 
 in a remote corner, should complete a realization of the stern conditions of life in the 
 eighteenth century. 
 
 It is not our purpose, however, to linger in this house, fascinating though it be, 
 but to pass through it from the world of to-day to the times it so vividly recalls. 
 Two names that are intimately connected with it will readily take us across the 
 ocean, and back through a century and more, to the court of the king whose mis- 
 guided policy was the birth-warrant of our nation. One of these we find in New- 
 castle, separated by a devious inlet from Little Harbor where Governor Wentworth 
 built and reminiscent of the Duke of Newcastle who was prime minister of 
 England and leader of the Whig party at the beginning of the Revolutionary period. 
 A few years later, after the turn of events had deprived him of power, he again 7 
 entered the cabinet with the post of privy seal under the leadership of the Marquis of 
 Rockingham, a member of the Wentworth family, for whom Governor Wentworth 
 had named the county back of Portsmouth and Newcastle. 
 
 Although nominally representative of the people, Parliament was in those days 
 the creature of its leaders, or the King, as successive complications favored one or the 
 other ; boroughs were bought or bullied by the dominant party, and thus the mo- 
 mentous enactments that goaded the colonists to revolt were the results of contested 
 
 intrigue, a game with living 
 played by the government 
 which the English people 
 The conception of the 
 to Jenkinson, secretary to 
 vored minister; but Parlia- 
 
 pieces and tremendous stakes, 
 and the opposition, and in 
 had little real voice, 
 odious Stamp Act is credited 
 Lord Bute, the King's fa- 
 ment rejected it when first 
 
 Stamp 
 
1766 
 
 proposed, although it was universally conceded that America should contribute to the 
 payment of the enormous public debt contracted in the protection of the colonies 
 from the French and Indians. Even Americans acquiesced in this sentiment, but 
 they proposed to pay it by grants from their assemblies and in their own way. 
 George, however, had been exhorted by his mother, the Princess Dowager, to "be 
 a king" and encouraged to assert his individuality advice which conditions did not 
 favor, nor the King's ability warrant, but which he persistently endeavored to carry 
 out in spite of its disastrous effect. Under these circumstances the proposition to 
 
 J 7^5 levy a stamp tax was revived and the act passed in February, 1765. William Pitt, 
 the constant champion of the colonies, was ill at the time, and greatly deplored its 
 passage. Throughout the remainder of his life, which ended while the war was in 
 
 J 77& progress, Pitt, afterwards Lord Chatham, was an ardent advocate of the liberties of the 
 colonists ; but his efforts were of little avail, and although he was at one time urged 
 by the King to form a ministry, many concessions being made to induce him to do 
 so, personal ambition and the resulting internal friction had so divided his party 
 that he was unable to unite the leaders, and the policy then in force was suffered to 
 continue. 
 
 In America the Stamp Act was resented as a measure of arbitrary domination, an 
 irritating and unreasonable form of taxation with no compensatory representation. 
 Virginia was the first colony to voice the opposition to this measure, and was imme- 
 diately followed by Massachusetts, which proposed a congress of delegates from the 
 
 T 7^5 assemblies of all the colonies to take united action in protest. The congress met in 
 1765, and as a result of this, and Pitt's scathing denunciation in England, the Stamp 
 Act was repealed early in the following year. 
 
 The King from this time lost no opportunity of strengthening his party in 
 Parliament, and by the patronage he could dispense and the intimidation of country 
 boroughs, was able to control both houses and secure the enactment of his policy. 
 His next measure was the levying of import duties on colonial commerce, which was 
 
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 ftct 
 
7767 
 
 <j0utmt (BHmufcer 
 
 " . vVs."..'-'..'.;;: .V'' 
 
 7770 
 
 growing rapidly in importance, espe- 
 cially with the West Indies ; and with 
 England alone amounted to about six 
 million pounds per year, nearly equal- 
 ling the total of British commerce with 
 the world at the beginning of that 
 century. This also met with bitter 
 protest and was later repealed on every- 
 thing but tea, which was made to bear 
 the burden of the principle of English 
 sovereignty. This principle was as 
 clearly discerned in America as hi Eng- 
 land, and the renunciation of tea be- 
 came a test of patriotism. Philadelphia 
 had publicly denounced all traffic in 
 tea, and the act had been endorsed by 
 Boston when three ships laden with 
 the obnoxious commodity arrived at 
 the latter port. Their arrival was fol- 
 lowed by indignant gatherings in Fan- 
 euil Hall, and the consignees were 
 forced by public opinion to promise 
 that the ships would be sent back with- 
 out unloading ; but this the Royal Gov- 
 ernor refused to permit, and declared 
 that no clearance papers would be is- 
 sued until the cargoes were discharged. 
 At the close of a particularly demon- 
 strative meeting held at the Old South Church on the afternoon of December 
 sixteenth, 1773, a party of fifty citizens, disguised as Indians, led the way to the 
 wharf, and, boarding the vessels, scattered into the harbor the contents of three 
 hundred and forty-two chests, the property of the East India Company, valued in the 
 neighborhood of one hundred thousand dollars. 
 
 In consequence of this action and lesser excuses, Massachusetts was subjected to *774 
 a repressive policy which deprived the colonists of many liberties and was intended 
 to precipitate a struggle, which the King believed would be short and decisive, for 
 
 the purpose of finally settling the dependence of the 
 colonies and the sovereignty of England. 
 
 The effect of this "Port Bill," as the chief of 
 these measures was called, was as was expected 
 to confirm the colonists in their resistance, but not in 
 the rash and isolated way that was hoped for. Keen, 
 powerful intellects guided the people, in the persons 
 of Samuel Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, 
 and others, and they immediately set about to secure 
 the cooperation of the other colonies, many of which 
 were ripe for action, notably Virginia, where Patrick 
 
 Stamp 
 
 Uoston 
 
17&5 Henry had some years earlier openly denounced British oppression, but had lacked 
 the clear issues prevalent in the Bay State. They organized a Committee of Corres- 
 pondence, and, authorized by the General Assembly of Massachusetts, urged each 
 i774 colony to send delegates to a congress at Philadelphia on the first of the following 
 September. 
 
 In June of that year, 1774, the port of Boston, then under the military rule of 
 General Gage who had superseded Governor Hutchinson was closed to com- 
 merce, causing a complete stagnation of business of all kinds, and much deprivation 
 and suffering among the people. 
 
 A considerable element in Parliament was strongly opposed to this cruelty, 
 and champions of the cause of America were not lacking who predicted the ultimate 
 ruin England would suffer from this unwarranted oppression of her own sons, to 
 whom, as they urged, the sentiments of liberty were as precious, and whose strength 
 of purpose was as great, as though no ocean separated them from the free institutions 
 of the mother country. They were powerless, however, to check the wave of vin- 
 dictiveness that now, under the fostering care of the King's favorites, was extending 
 even to the people. 
 
 The large cities, always the strongholds of advanced ideas, were still in sympathy 
 with the colonists, and the spectacle is presented of the city of London, in its corporate 
 capacity, subscribing one hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the relief of suffering 
 in Boston, caused by the acts of Parliament. These were eventful days in the New 
 England town, for although the people suffered, their enthusiasm was in no way 
 diminished, and they overthrew all civil institutions emanating from the crown. 
 
 Many prominent people who had until this 
 time reserved the right to support the King's 
 government and hoped for a peaceful settle- 
 ment of all troubles, now saw the serious- 
 ness of the situation, and realizing the near 
 approach of inevitable division, sank their 
 personal regrets in love of country and joined 
 heartily in the cause of liberty. 
 
 On the fifth of September, fifty-three 
 delegates assembled in Carpenter's Hall, 
 Philadelphia, and under the presidency of 
 Peyton Randolph, of Virginia, formed a Con- 
 tinental Congress. While recognizing the 
 necessity of united action, these delegates, as 
 a whole, had not yet reached a realization of 
 the need of aggressive rebellion. The habit 
 of loyalty was too strong to be put off at 
 once, and it was with a certain deference, 
 albeit firmness, that they appealed to the 
 King, and to the people of Great Britain, to 
 withdraw the odious measures that threat- 
 ened to alienate the colonies. Georgia, the 
 especial prot6g6 of the King, was alone un- 
 represented at this gathering, and though at 
 
 '77 
 
 Continental <an0vrss 
 
JFaneuttffcaU 
 
 Boston 
 
 heart the delegates dreaded 
 the culmination of events 
 which their acts were for- 
 warding, the congress 
 adopted measures to 
 strengthen the union and 
 co-operation of the states, 
 indorsed Massachusetts in 
 its resistance, and planned 
 and appointed a second 
 congress to meet the fol- 
 lowing May. Although 
 independence was not yet 
 declared, and, in the minds 
 of many, was only a re- 
 mote possibility, it was in 
 reality inaugurated on that 
 twentieth of October, 
 1774, when the "Dec- 
 laration of Colonial 
 Rights," a comprehensive document which recited the injustices of Parliament and 
 asserted the right of self-government, was signed by the "American Association," 
 the forerunner of the confederacy later announced as the "United States of 
 America." 
 
 As seed cast on fertile ground germinates and develops of its innate powers, so 
 the American Revolution needed but the lightest sanction of administrative authority. 
 Its real life was the unwavering determination of individuals and communities to meet 
 squarely every issue, to see great principles behind even small aggressions, to neither 
 palliate nor compromise, to rise above considerations of policy and to act from the first 
 with no provision for failure and no desire for qualified victory. 
 
 Separation from the mother country was but incidental to this struggle, and was 
 only determined upon when in the progress of events it was recognized as inevitable. 
 The principles of liberty for which the patriots contended were no less applicable here 
 than in England itself, where their kinsmen had declared and enacted them nearly a 
 century before. 
 
 This spirit was manifest, but it was King George, with his succession of blundering 
 provocations, who nourished the Revolution. Had he realized the quality of the 
 resistance and listened to the entreatings of Franklin and the other colonial agents at 
 Parliament, he could easily have retained that loyalism which was dear to the colon- 
 ists, and the price of which was only the extension of equal liberty to his subjects at 
 home and abroad. 
 
 Although at this time the Americans were endeavoring to obtain a peaceful estab- 
 lishment of their rights, they clearly perceived the need of military organization, and 
 in November the "Provincial Congress" of Massachusetts, the General Court 
 under a new name voted to enroll twelve thousand "minute men" who were to 
 be prepared to respond immediately when the conflict should begin ; later it declared 
 its wish for peace, but advised preparations for war. Other colonies took similar 
 
 '774 
 
 *774 
 
*774 /~v^_^ *> r~" action and many minor episodes took place which are locally held 
 to be the initiative of the Revolution. December sixth, the peo- 
 ple of Rhode Island seized a large quantity of ordnance in the 
 batteries at Newport, in anticipation of its employment by the 
 King's troops, and the same action was taken on the thirteenth 
 by the people of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, who seized and 
 removed a large quantity of ammunition and ordnance then in 
 the keeping of the garrison of Fort William and Mary, at New- 
 
 f 775 fefrVJfiff HHS^^J cast l e - I n the following February, the people of Salem, Mas- 
 sachusetts, taking heed from the warning of their governing body, 
 began preparations for defense. These were met by an expedi- 
 tion from Gage's forces at Boston, and an engagement was 
 narrowly averted. The real uprising, however, from which 
 armed rebellion dates, was to come later at Concord and Lex- 
 ington. 
 
 Parliament had officially declared a state of rebellion existent 
 in Massachusetts and embarked large reinforcements to the three 
 thousand British troops in Boston, while the patriots watched 
 every movement of the British and prepared to meet their first 
 advance, which in the nature of things could not long be de- 
 layed. General Gage, the British commander, realized it to be 
 his duty to break up these preparations, and planned a secret 
 raid on the stores and munitions which the Americans had con- 
 centrated at Concord, some miles from Boston, in order that they 
 might be safely outside the line of fortifications which the British 
 were erecting. The plan also included the capture of John 
 Hancock and Samuel Adams, who were believed to be in that 
 neighborhood, and who were justly regarded as most dangerous to British interests. 
 With this object troops to the number of eight hundred left Boston for Cambridge 
 shortly before midnight of April eighteenth, and with such speed as was possible, 
 marched toward Lexington, on the road to Concord. They had counted on the 
 secrecy of their movements to make the attainment of their object easy, but in this they 
 underestimated the watchfulness and penetration of their opponents, for their purpose 
 was understood in advance and measures taken to spread the alarm when they should 
 actually start. 
 
 Paul Revere had obtained the information, and he repaired to Charlestown that 
 evening, there to await the signal which he had directed to be shown from the spire 
 of the North Church when the soldiers were known to have started. The two 
 lights, telling him that they had gone by water to Cambridge, shone out at eleven 
 o'clock and started Revere on his momentous ride. He was obliged to take a cir- 
 cuitous route to escape British sentinels, who challenged him and who would have cap- 
 tured a less alert man. In spite of this he gained a great 
 advance over the attacking force, and alarmed the country to 
 Lexington, where he awakened Adams and Hancock, and 
 was joined by two others in his ride toward Concord. 
 They were hardly started when they were intercepted by 
 British officers and Revere and Dawes were taken prisoners, 
 
 ISaviy 
 
 New England Flag 
 
while Dr. Prescott, the 
 third member of the party, 
 jumped his horse over a 
 wall and escaped to carry 
 the alarm the remainder of 
 the way. 
 
 What it meant to the 
 farmers was evident when, 
 early in the morning, the 
 regulars reached Lexington 
 and found the minute-men 
 drawn up on the green to 
 meet them. Compared 
 with the British, the patriots 
 were few and were poorly 
 equipped and drilled, but 
 their cause was righteous 
 and they believed in it in 
 the face of death. They, 
 therefore, paid no heed to 
 the demand that they dis- 
 perse, but met force with force and shed the first blood of the Revolution. Eight 
 Americans were killed and others wounded, and the British then continued their 
 march to Concord. Their commander, Lieutenant- Colonel Smith, alarmed by the 
 evidences of resistance that he encountered, had sent back to Boston for reinforce- 
 ments, which were hastening to his assistance. 
 
 Their mission at Concord was accomplished ingloriously to the extent of destroy- 
 ing such few stores and guns as the Americans had been unable to secrete, and they 
 were about to return when they discovered the minute-men advancing from the farther 
 side of the North Bridge. They essayed to cut off the approach of the Americans 
 by removing the bridge, but were too late, and, being obliged to retreat or fire, chose 
 the latter, and were answered by a volley which drove them from their position. This 
 was the beginning of the first real fight, the passage at Lexington being hardly main- 
 tained to an extent to justify that title. The farmers withdrew to such shelter as they 
 could find and awaited further movements of the regulars, who started about noon 
 for their return to Boston. Their march was the signal for renewed firing by the 
 Americans, who followed them, and from the shelter of stone walls and trees de- 
 livered a harassing and destructive fire. 
 
 Thoroughly routed, they were fast being reduced when they were met by 
 the advancing reinforcements, one thousand men under Lord Percy, and for a while 
 they rested under this protection. The remainder of the retreat, even with the 
 greatly increased force, was a repetition of the beginning, and when they finally 
 arrived in Charlestown, and under the guns of the British ships, they were in 
 almost a panic. 
 
 Thus began the Revolution; and the alarm carried by Paul Revere was extended 
 in all directions until every road leading to Concord was filled with minute-men 
 hastening to reinforce their compatriots. They remained in waiting a few days, 
 
 1775 
 
 ConrorV 
 
but no further attack being made they returned to their homes for completer organ- 
 ization and equipment. They realized that the struggle which was now begun meant 
 systematic operations of defense, for which they were as yet unprepared, and an 
 army was recruited and established in Cambridge to be ready for such action as 
 might be necessary. 
 
 In the meantime the Massachusetts delegation to the second Congress had 
 journeyed, in a succession of ovations, to Philadelphia, and were assured of the approval 
 and support of the intervening colonies. May tenth, the day this Congress opened, 
 *775 was signalized, though the members knew not of it, by the capture of Ticonderoga 
 by an expedition from Connecticut under Colonel Ethan Allen, and a large quantity 
 of ammunition and ordnance was turned over to the army. Events were moving 
 rapidly without Congress, but it was essential that there be a central authority to out- 
 line the policy to be pursued and provide means for effecting it. Even now Con- 
 gress distrusted its own right to be, and repeated its supplications to George III to 
 settle without further bloodshed the differences that existed. 
 
 These entreatings evidence the reluctance of the delegates to forswear their 
 allegiance to England, but the fact that they nevertheless took such measures as were 
 possible to organize and equip an army is proof also of their steadiness of purpose and 
 desperate belief in the worthiness of their cause. 
 
 The first important act of Congress was the appoint- 
 ment of George Washington, one of the delegates from 
 Virginia, commander-in-chief of the American army, 
 which was then, to the number of upwards of fifteen thou- 
 /P00t0tl ll san d men, encamped in the vicinity of Boston. 
 
 This army, recruited by the Provincial Congress 
 of Massachusetts, was made up of the minute-men who 
 had risen on the alarm of Lexington, but* who had, in the 
 meantime, returned to their homes for reorganization, and 
 later volunteers, with considerable reinforcements from 
 neighboring states, notably New Hampshire and Con- 
 necticut ; and under the leadership 
 of officers whose names are now the 
 foundations of Revolutionary history, 
 was besieging Boston and planning to 
 drive out the British, or at least to 
 prevent them from increasing their 
 holdings. 
 
 '775 ._\^ %:5f2&3&. While Washington was preparing 
 
 to start for New England, events in 
 Boston were rapidly shaping them- 
 selves for the active operations of war. 
 General Gage, the British commander, 
 was forced to take measures to 
 
 maintain his position, and determined to forestall the Americans in the occupation of 
 Charlestown, across the river, and so near his headquarters that he was liable at any 
 time to be subjected to a harassing fire. His plans were disturbed, however, by the dis- 
 covery, on the morning of June seventeenth, of fortifications which the Americans had 
 
 
 Sccoufc <ongrr0s 
 
Bedford | 
 
 thrown up on Bunker Hill in one short night. 
 It had become known to the American 
 commanders that Gage contemplated moving 
 on the eighteenth, and over a thousand hardy 
 and intelligent men, under skillful direction, 
 worked with pick and shovel from the settling 
 of darkness on the sixteenth to the dawn of 
 the seventeenth, and then, with slight rein- 
 forcements, awaited the attack of the British. 
 Prescott, Warren, Stark, and Knowlton 
 were among the American commanders, and 
 by their personal bravery and perseverance 
 they sustained the courage of their men, with 
 the result that the British attacking force of 
 three thousand, with all its perfect equip- 
 ment, was twice repulsed with fearful loss, 
 and only yielded to after a third destructive 
 charge, and when the last round of their 
 meagre ammunition was exhausted. Under the cover of a protecting fire from a line 
 of auxiliary defense, a part of the original plan, the Americans retreated and left the 
 British in possession of one of the most dearly bought battle-fields of history. The 
 British loss was enormous, and this engagement prevented further aggression beyond 
 the limits of their original holding. It also resulted in the superseding of Gage by 
 General Howe, as commander of all the British forces. The news of this battle 
 reached Washington soon after he had left Philadelphia, and aroused in him con- 
 fidence in the eventual success of the American cause. He arrived in the vicinity 
 of Boston on July second, and on the third took command of the troops drawn up on 
 Cambridge common. 
 
 This army, though considerable in numbers and overflowing with patriotism, was 
 lacking in military organization, and to the task of drilling and uniting it, and also 
 supplying ammunition and further equipment, Washington applied himself through the 
 summer and following winter, while maintaining a close siege over the British in 
 Boston. Early in March, 1776, under the cover of a bombardment from his base 
 of operations, Washington secretly marched a large body of men to Dorchester 
 Heights, a commanding position on the opposite side of Boston, and one of ex- 
 treme menace to the British. The latter awoke on the morning of March fifth, to 
 find a repetition of the frowning embankments that had spurred them to action on 
 Bunker Hill, this time on the landward side of the town, though separated from it 
 by a small bay. 
 
 Realizing the seriousness of the situation, Howe made preparations for attack, but 
 unfavorable weather prevailed for a day or two, giving the Americans opportunity for 
 
 strengthening their position, and after 
 some days of hesitation, the British 
 evacuated Boston, sailing away on March 
 seventeenth, and carrying with them 
 about a thousand Tories, whom they 
 
 Lexington 
 
 JMMTYOISR GR.crjjtrn) 
 
 OONT F, til UNLESS. ttHlED UPON" 
 THEY MAN Tb HAVEM WAR 
 
 '775 
 
 7im 
 
transported with their goods to Halifax. 
 
 l??6 WlU<^riaitrPfV\l&C New England, the birthplace of the 
 
 Revolution, was thus saved to the Ameri- 
 cans, and freed, for the most part, from 
 further strife in the barely awakened 
 cause. 
 
 Washington, from time of taking com- 
 mand of the army, was the centre of inter- 
 est, and the course of the Revolution was 
 chiefly with the troops under his personal 
 direction ; but it is necessary, in even an 
 outline of the war, to note certain secon- 
 dary expeditions and lesser incidents in 
 progress at the time when Washington 
 was encamped before Boston. 
 
 Canada was recognized from the first, 
 by the American leaders, as a menace to 
 the unity of the colonies by reason of 
 the possibilities it offered as a base for 
 operations through the valley of the Hud- 
 
 \ r- -ffi^SSJ-^Biff-^^I^^JlS ~ son to .the sea-coast, which would isolate 
 
 New England and prevent its intercom- 
 munication, either offensive or defensive, 
 with other sections. To obviate this 
 danger, Washington early decided to at- 
 tempt the conquest of Canada, and organized two expeditions, to travel different 
 routes and meet at Quebec for a joint assault. 
 
 One under Montgomery passed up Lake Champlain and captured Montreal and 
 intervening points. The other under Benedict Arnold embarked at Newburyport, 
 and then, following the Kennebec River, and through the wilderness beyond, reached 
 Quebec in December, 1775, a ^" ter a journey of extraordinary difficulty and hardship. 
 Montgomery, with but a remnant of his forces, soon arrived, and with those of Arnold 
 also greatly diminished formed an attacking body of but little over a thousand 
 men, to assault a city noted for its strong situation and elaborate fortifications. The 
 attempt, though gallant and for a time encouraging, failed with the death of Mont- 
 gomery and wounding of Arnold ; and although held besieged by the latter for 
 the rest of the winter, the city remained in the possession of the British, and 
 in the spring the Americans were forced, by the approach of a powerful relief 
 6 expedition under Sir Guy Carleton, to abandon their advantage and leave Canada 
 for good and all. 
 
 At this time the British were using their ships, against which we could as yet 
 oppose none, to harass outlying ports, and with apparently no plan other than the 
 resulting terror and apprehension in all coast towns. Falmouth, Maine, now Port- 
 land, was bombarded and then burned ; and the British, at the instigation of Lord 
 77 J Dunmore, Governor of the Province, attacked Hampton, Virginia, and later Nor- 
 folk. At both places they were repulsed, but Norfolk suffered heavily from bombard- 
 ment and fire. Patriotism in the South was further stimulated by an attack on 
 
n 
 
 Charleston, South Carolina, a few months later. A large fleet under Admiral Parker, 
 with General Clinton for military commander, was organized to take that city 
 and subdue the surrounding country ; news of this plan reached South Carolina, and 
 active preparations were made to resist the invasion. Troops of militia, local and 
 from neighboring states, occupied all available positions, and a fort of palmetto-wood 
 was erected on Sullivan's Island and manned by five hundred men under Colonel 
 Moultrie. This fort was the chief defense of the city and was relied upon to with- 
 stand the brunt of the attack, although it was by some considered entirely inadequate 
 for the purpose. 
 
 Early in June the British, in upwards of thirty vessels, arrived at the entrance to 
 the harbor, but with characteristic delay, it was four weeks before they were ready to 
 attack. Clinton's forces were rendered ineffective by being stupidly disembarked on a 
 sand-bar from which they expected to cross to Sullivan's Island, but to which there was 
 no practicable ford. Parker opened fire on Fort Sullivan with six ships, and after 
 an engagement lasting all day, was obliged to withdraw what remained of his fleet 
 and give up the attempt. It was a most notable victory for American courage and 
 perseverance under almost overwhelming odds, and it raised Colonel Moultrie to 
 a place among the greatest heroes of the war. An incident of this battle was the 
 heroism of Sergeant Jasper in replanting on the bastion the colors which had been 
 shot away. 
 
 As the evacuation of Boston had practically ended the war in New England, so 
 the defeat at Charleston freed the South from further molestation for some years, and 
 removed the centre of strife to the Middle States, where less determined resistance 
 was to be feared. Washington, realizing that the British would turn to New York as 
 their logical base of operations, removed his army to that place soon after the taking 
 of Boston, and made preparations to defend the city as well as his inadequate and 
 poorly equipped army might be able to. Congress, which had mainly directed its 
 efforts to additional attempts to secure peaceful recognition from King George, had 
 utterly failed, through inability or inattention, to provide for the increase or sustenance 
 of the army, and was at any time liable to disruption from the growing differences of 
 delegates as to the policy to be pursued. There was, as yet, no union, and therefore 
 no responsible government which could organize internal affairs and collect funds. 
 This condition, coupled with the vanishing of hope of any concession from the King, 
 who had declared the colonists rebels and announced his determination to crush them, 
 emphasized the need of a basis for a permanent government ; and after some hesitation 
 
 on the part of representatives of a few states, 
 it was voted, on the second of July, 1776, to 
 announce to the world the principles for which 
 the American people were contending. A com- 
 mittee, of which Thomas Jefferson, a delegate 
 from Virginia, recently arrived, was chosen 
 chairman, was appointed to formulate the declara- 
 tion, the writing of which was entrusted to Jef- 
 ferson. The result of his labor and the delib- 
 erations of the committee, was the Declaration of 
 Independence, laid before Congress on the fourth 
 of July and unanimously accepted. 
 
 Massachusetts 
 
^ 
 
 This forceful and inspiring document attracted the 
 attention of the civilized world, and made possible the 
 union subsequently effected. It has maintained, and will 
 ever hold, its position as the most revered and precious 
 relic of American history ; and it is one of the evidences 
 of the quality of mind and character which the early 
 patriots brought to the cause of liberty. 
 
 From Philadelphia, where the people awaited breath- 
 lessly the peal of the State House bell, which should 
 " Proclaim Liberty throughout all the land, to all the 
 inhabitants thereof"; through New York, where the 
 message was read to the troops drawn up on the Common, 
 and was boisterously celebrated by the populace, which 
 demonstrated its patriotism by tearing from the pedestal 
 on Bowling Green an equestrian statue of George III, of 
 gilded lead, that from glorifying the King was turned 
 against him in the form of rebel bullets; to Boston, 
 where, in some ways it meant more than it elsewhere 
 could the acceptance by the united colonies of the 
 cause nurtured on Boston's wrongs the country hailed 
 with enthusiasm this brilliant crystalization by its ablest 
 representatives, in solemn congress assembled, of the sen- 
 timents which for months had fired individuals every- 
 where, but had lacked the official approval of the leaders. 
 A large measure of this unanimity was due to the wide- 
 spread appreciation of Paine' s "Common-Sense," pub- 
 lished the previous winter, in which Thomas Paine, an 
 Englishman who had been in this country but a short 
 time, grasped and set forth in convincing style, the prin- 
 ciples involved in the struggle with the mother country, 
 and the reasons why rebellion was just and right. Paine 
 
 showed the people what they sought and needed ; Congress declared it an accom- 
 plished fact and bestirred in its defense. 
 
 Meanwhile the cause in the field was experiencing misfortunes and disasters cal- 
 culated to weaken its popularity, and was only saved from extermination by Wash- 
 ington's ability to successively extricate his army from seemingly overwhelming 
 situations. He had established himself in New York and Brooklyn with the ten 
 thousand troops that represented all that was available 
 many of that number for but a short period only of 
 the army brought from Boston, and -endeavored to hold 
 in check the large and powerful armies under Howe and 
 Clinton, the latter having reached there from his defeat 
 at Charleston, supported by powerful ships of war. 
 His detachments on Long Island under Sullivan and Stir- 
 ling were badly routed, and the situation there was 
 strongly against him, when Washington brought over 
 
 c&tatitc of 
 Captain i^atftan 
 IIJ a I e 6 
 
 irclaratfott of 
 Kwtt t v t ti ft t n 
 
 New Hampsh 
 
 i re 
 
Offtte, f ct 
 
 7776 
 
 reinforcements and en- 
 gaged in preparing for- 
 tifications, as though 
 intending a continu- 
 ance of operations ; but 
 the next morning, Au- 
 gust twenty-ninth, 
 found the place utterly 
 deserted, his army hav- 
 ing been ferried across 
 to New York under 
 cover of the night and 
 a beneficent fog. Colo- 
 nel Glover's Marblehead fishermen accomplished this feat for Washington, and the 
 British, who surrounded the Americans and expected an easy and decisive victory, 
 were doomed to disappointment. They, however, knew their strength and Wash- 
 ington's weakness, and assailed him on all sides of the stand taken in New York, 
 driving him in a few days to Harlem Heights. Washington's personal bravery as 
 he rode among his panic-stricken men was the slender thread by which he was 
 enabled to finally withdraw his troops. 
 
 It was especially desirable at this time that some knowledge be obtained of the 
 intended movements of the British, and Washington accepted the services of Captain 
 Nathan Hale of Connecticut, who volunteered to visit the enemy's camp as a spy. 
 He penetrated the British lines and obtained the information without discovery, but 
 on his way back was recognized and arrested by a Tory relative. He was taken 
 before Howe and sentenced to death, and was executed September twenty-second. 
 Every benefit of humanity and religion was denied him, yet he met his death with 
 high courage, and his last words, " I only regret that I have but one life to give 
 for my country," have' become immortal. 
 
 In the face of his retreat, Washington sent detachments to check the advance of 
 the enemy's outposts, and after sharp fighting drove them back to the main lines. 
 The American position was here fairly strong, but not strong enough to warrant 
 Washington in risking his army ; so on the further advance of the British, he seized 
 favorable points and held them in check until he could again retreat, this time to 
 White Plains, on the bank of the Bronx River. 
 
 Once more the British under Howe thought to crush the American forces and 
 end the war, and once more, after a sharp engagement, the Americans succeeded in 7776 
 
 escaping and establishing themselves in a stronger 
 position at North Castle. Forts Washington and 
 Lee, which defended the Hudson River at Harlem, 
 were left garrisoned with the expectation of their 
 being able to hold the position; but the British 
 having obtained, through the treachery of a deserter 
 from Fort Washington, complete information as to 
 the strength and arrangement of that fortification, 
 it was successfully assaulted on November sixteenth, 
 
 Co nnecticut 
 
 Xattyan ftalc 
 
1776 
 
 and two thousand men taken pris- 
 oners. This loss, with General 
 Lee's disobedience in withholding, 
 on the other side of the Hudson, 
 the large body of troops under his 
 command, left Washington in a 
 desperate situation. His army was 
 reduced through these causes, and 
 the expiration of the terms of enlist- 
 ment of many of the militia, to the 
 neighborhood of three thousand 
 men, and continual discharges and 
 desertions, with the failure of efforts 
 to secure re-enlistments or fresh re- 
 cruits, threatened to leave but a 
 fraction of that number. Fortu- 
 nately at this time General Lee's 
 troops were brought in by General 
 Sullivan, the former having been 
 taken prisoner while at a distance 
 from his army. 
 
 The British, holding all the 
 important points captured, contin- 
 ued their advance to Trenton and 
 occupied that place preparatory to 
 marching on Philadelphia, but later 
 abandoned that part of the plan. 
 The fear of this disaster was intense 
 in Philadelphia, and Congress con- 
 sidered it necessary to adjourn to Baltimore, after vesting the entire control of the 
 war in Washington; a compliment which would have been more appreciated had it 
 brought greater opportunities instead of adding to the perplexities of that general. 
 He watched the enemy from a safe distance while exerting himself strenuously to 
 strengthen his army, though with little success. The misfortunes which made the 
 necessity most urgent operated against his efforts, and no enthusiasm could be aroused 
 for an apparently failing cause. Little as the prospect offered, he realized that some- 
 thing must be done, and done quickly, or the new year would find him almost with- 
 out men. 
 
 Bold as the plan seemed when the possibilities were considered, Washington 
 made up his mind to attack Trenton, and despatched several detachments to diverse 
 points to ensure the surrounding of the enemy. Christmas night was the time settled 
 upon for the assault, and Washington, with twenty-four hundred men, arrived at the 
 bank of the Delaware in a fierce storm of snow and sleet, to find the river swollen 
 and filled with swiftly-moving ice. To a lesser man the difficulties would have been 
 insuperable, as they appeared to his aides, to whom the duty was intrusted of attacking 
 from other points, and who failed to cross. To Washington it meant but the call 
 
 wrvtrau 
 
NC 
 
 NY! 
 
 SC 
 
 UNITE OR DIE 
 
 1776 
 
 for greater effort, and, 
 encouraged by his ex- 
 ample and guided by the 
 hardy fishermen of Mar- 
 blehead, the troops were 
 safely, though with great 
 difficulty, transported to 
 the Trenton side, where 
 they set out upon an ex- 
 hausting march to the 
 town, regardless of the 
 storm and the pains of 
 travel on the frozen 
 ground. Colonel Rahl 
 
 had been warned that Washington was planning an attack, but, as usual, affected to 
 despise his opponent, and the twelve hundred Hessians were in the midst of a 
 characteristic Christmas celebration from which all thought of the enemy was 
 banished, when the foot-sore and wearied Americans burst upon them. Rahl's men, 
 thoroughly panic-stricken, offered little or no resistance, and in attempting to rally 
 them their commander was shot down. A few were killed and some escaped, but 
 about one thousand, with all their artillery and stores, were made prisoners and taken 
 in triumph to Philadelphia. 
 
 Washington lost no time, after this inspiring victory, in following up the advantage 
 gained, and returning with fresh troops, re-occupied Trenton. Howe felt heavily the 
 loss of prestige and men resulting from the defeat of Christmas night, and once more 
 determined to overwhelm the meagre army of Washington and terminate the harassing 
 rebellion. To this end Lord Cornwallis, with seven thousand men, set out from 
 Princeton, January second. They were met on the road by detachments of Americans *777 
 sent out to retard their movement, and slowly driving the skirmishers before them, 
 made their way to Trenton. 
 
 The main body of the American army was entrenched just outside the town, on 
 the further bank of the Assanpink, and here the British prepared to attack. An at- 
 tempt to cross the bridge was repulsed, and Cornwallis contented himself for that day 
 with cannonading the enemy from the opposite shore, and planning to assault them on 
 the following morning when reinforced. The British habit of delay at critical junc- 
 tures had before given Washington opportunity to extricate his army from dangerous 
 situations, and he took advantage of it on this occasion to abandon his position on the 
 Assanpink and march on Princeton where Cornwallis had left three regiments of his 
 army from whence he hoped to pass to Brunswick and capture the large quantity of 
 British stores known to be there. With his usual adroitness, Washing- 
 ton withdrew undetected by the army on the opposite bank, which 
 regarded the brightly burning camp-fires, kindled for the purpose, as 
 undoubted evidence of the continued presence of the Americans. 
 Princeton was reached early on the morning of January third, and 
 
 the British troops were encountered 
 just as they were leaving to join 
 
 General Putnam^ 
 Plough 
 
 n 
 
<t>ia jftfu 
 
 3ft. 
 
 Cornwallis. A battle en- 
 sued, which, though at 
 times apparently in favor 
 
 '777 &g ^l'~--l -^.'^aSa of the British owing to 
 
 the inability of the Ameri- 
 cans, through lack of 
 equipment, to meet bay- 
 onet charges resulted 
 finally in a splendid vic- 
 tory for Washington, 
 whose personal valor and 
 encouragement strength- 
 ened his men and turned 
 the balance to his side. 
 The British fled to Bruns- 
 wick, but the day was so 
 far spent that Washington 
 deemed it unwise to at- 
 tack that place, and after 
 destroying the bridges be- 
 tween his army and that 
 
 of Cornwallis, withdrew to Somerset Court House, and thence to Morristown, 
 where he went into winter quarters. Cornwallis, discomfited at his failure at Tren- 
 ton and the defeat of his troops at Princeton, returned to Brunswick to protect his 
 magazines, and suspended operations for the winter. 
 
 The effect of these victories on the country and the outside world was to raise the 
 American cause from the lowest ebb of discouragement to enthusiastic support at home 
 and increased respect abroad. France, though yet unwilling to openly favor this coun- 
 try, was secretly sending supplies, and from that country and Germany and Prussia 
 came able and devoted officers to assist our cause. Recruiting became easier and re- 
 '777 enlistments frequent, enabling Washington to greatly strengthen his army and prepare 
 for a renewal of the struggle with the coming of spring. 
 
 Events moved slowly at this time, a condition to which the American cause in the 
 field was frequently indebted, and yet the forces at work were making for results soon 
 to place the struggle for independence on a basis of international recognition and 
 eventual support. After declaring independence, Congress had dispatched emissaries to 
 the courts of Europe, and especially to France, where the sympathy of progressive 
 leaders established the cause in substantial favor. Many of the ablest members were 
 thus employed, or were called to their homes to direct the sustaining operations of the 
 war, so that the representation left was appreciably inferior as 
 a whole, and of little real assistance as an executive body. It 
 was inadequate to the task of supporting the army or of adding 
 materially to its numbers, and its financial system, lacking 
 bassi and credit, was a failure from the start. To the army 
 it commissioned officers in many cases incompetent ; and 
 through a misunderstanding of facts, or unduly influenced by 
 
 Rhode Island 
 
astvitvgto n*$ 
 
 Interested parties, it superseded competent generals at critical times and placed inferior 
 men in command. Lacking official support, the Revolution was sustained by 
 popular contribution through the state leaders, the work of Robert Morris, of Phila- 
 delphia, being especially memorable, and of inestimable service to Washington in 
 his efforts to hold together and strengthen his army. 
 
 Connecticut bore a generous share in equipping and sustaining the troops, and at 
 this time suffered locally from the proximity of the British quartered at New York. 
 On April twenty-sixth, 1777, Governor Tryon of New York, with two thousand 
 British and Tories, attacked and burned Danbury, and destroyed a large quantity of 
 American stores. On the following day the militia, under Generals Wooster, Arnold, 7777 
 and Silliman, forced Tryon to the coast after an engagement at Ridgefield, and the 
 British embarked under heavy fire. General Wooster, a veteran of seventy years, 
 was mortally wounded. A month later the Americans under Colonel Meigs retal- 
 iated by crossing from Connecticut to Sag Harbor, on Long Island, where they 
 burned twelve British vessels and destroyed stores, bringing back ninety prisoners with- 
 out the loss of a man. 
 
 Another incident illustrative of the daring and adroitness of the American soldiers 
 was the capture of General Prescott, commander of the British forces in the neighbor- 
 hood of Rhode Island, whose tyranny had excited the indignation of the people. On 
 the night of July tenth, Lieutenant Barton of Providence, with forty men, stealthily 
 approached Prescott' s headquarters by water, and, overpowering the sentinel, 
 secured Prescott, who was in bed, and escaped before the alarm spread to the troops. 
 
 in <ounrctfcut 
 
1777 
 
 Congress recog- 
 nized this act by 
 promoting Barton 
 to the rank of colo- 
 nel and presenting 
 him a sword. 
 
 Spring brought 
 a renewal of activ- 
 ity in the armies 
 facing each other in 
 the South, and in 
 the North it saw 
 the development of 
 a plan to effect the 
 separation of New 
 England from the 
 other states. This 
 had long been rec- 
 ognized as an im- 
 pending possibility, and the division of the North under General Schuyler, though 
 weak in numbers, was so placed as to offer the utmost resistance to the anticipated move- 
 ment. Lake Champlain, the natural path of such invasion, had, the previous sum- 
 mer, been the scene of a strenuous, if not mighty, struggle with the same object, when 
 
 1776 Benedict Arnold had, by .dint of extraordinary effort, created a flotilla, effectively armed 
 and manned, with which he vigorously contested Sir Guy Carleton's ascent of the 
 lake ; and, while ultimately forced to retreat, so delayed and crippled the enemy that 
 the British expedition was fruitless for that season, so far as the main object was con- 
 cerned. The ground thus gained was held, and served Sir John Burgoyne, the suc- 
 cessor of Carleton, to launch with great pomp in June, 1777, an army of eight 
 thousand men, including Indians now for the first time employed which main- 
 tained its triumphant progress only so long as the waters of the lake formed the line 
 of passage. They erected fortifications on Mt. Defiance, near Ticonderoga, from 
 which commanding position they were able to throw a destructive fire into the fort ; 
 and General St. Clair, who occupied the post with somewhat less than three thou- 
 sand ill-armed troops, abandoned it on the night of July fifth, and undertook to join 
 Schuyler at Fort Edward. The British started after him and several times engaged 
 his rear guard, but at the end of a week the Americans succeeded in reaching 
 
 1777 Schuyler, though with the loss of some men and a considerable amount of baggage, 
 captured by the British at Skenesboro. At this point the struggle with natural con- 
 ditions began, which offered, difficult as it was, the only means by which Burgoyne 
 could pass to Albany, where he hoped to meet forces under Howe, which were to 
 come up the Hudson and thus dominate the line from Canada to Long Island. 
 Schuyler, realizing the overwhelming force of the invading army, fell back in slow 
 retreat, destroying the only road as he passed, burning bridges and clogging streams, 
 besides devastating the country of everything that could be utilized to sustain an army. 
 Under these circumstances Burgoyne' s progress, with all the facilities of a thoroughly 
 equipped army, was only about one mile a day, and the Americans were enabled to 
 
keep well out of reach until reinforcements and a favorable situation should enable 
 them to make a stand. 
 
 A strong detachment of the invaders, under St. Leger, had been sent to the west- 
 ward to take Fort Stanwix, held by General Ganesvoort. They met with determined 
 resistance, and vigorous fighting took place at the fort, and at Oriskaney, where ^777 
 General Herkimer, who had come to the relief of Ganesvoort with a large following 
 of frontiersmen, fell into an ambush of the enemy. The brave general was mortally 
 wounded early in the engagement, but with great fortitude continued to direct the 
 battle and succeeded in routing the British, who, however, continued to maintain the 
 siege. After some weeks ineffectually spent, they were frightened into a precipitate 
 retreat by news of the approach of Arnold with reinforcements, and made their way 
 to Canada, minus everything that tended to impede flight. 
 
 Burgoyne, experiencing to the full the difficulties imposed by Schuyler, felt the 
 need of provisions, and detached a party of six hundred, under Colonel Baum, to raid 
 the country in what is now Vermont, and capture stores held at Bennington. This 
 party was met near Bennington by the farmers, who had hastily gathered under 
 General Stark, and defeated with the loss of their baggage and artillery. Another 
 party of equal numbers which had been sent out a few days afterward to reinforce 
 the first, came up a few hours later and suffered like defeat. More than half the 
 British were taken prisoners, and upwards of two hundred killed, leaving but a third 
 to make its way back to the main army. These misfortunes were rapidly bringing 
 Burgoyne to a realization of the doubtfulness of final success, which success would 
 have appeared still more remote could he have known, as he did later, that Howe's 
 orders had been so delayed that no help could reach him from that quarter in season 
 to avail. 
 
 The American victories at Oriskaney and Bennington spread confidence through- 
 out the country, and troops gathered to the support of the northern army, which 
 Congress, with great injustice to Schuyler, now placed under the command of 
 General Horatio Gates, a soldier much inferior to the former in ability and attain- 
 ments. Gates reaped the benefit of all the hard work done by Schuyler, and entered 
 upon his command under most favorable conditions. Burgoyne, pressed for supplies 
 and threatened in his rear by General Lincoln who with two thousand troops was 
 even then retaking Ticonderoga was on the downward slope of effectiveness, while 
 the American army was constantly receiving reinforcements, among which were 
 Morgan's Virginia riflemen sent by Washington, and with Arnold returned from 
 Fort Stanwix, was daily gaining strength and courage, and numbered about three 
 thousand men to thirty-five hundred of the British. Gates, after a delay of several /777 
 
 weeks, established himself at Bemis Heights, 
 on . the west bank of the Hudson, and awaited 
 the enemy. They arrived on September nine- 
 teenth, and on the following day attacked the 
 Americans in their full strength. Gates proved 
 utterly inefficient, watching the battle from the 
 rear without taking part in it, and the conduct 
 of the fight devolved upon the regimental com- 
 manders, among whom Arnold was the dom- 
 inant figure. The battle continued until dark- 
 
 New York 
 
 Urnnfufltou 
 
'777 
 
 '777 
 
 
 Id Senate ISou^e 
 
 ness, when the Ameri- 
 cans drew off to their in- 
 trenchments, leaving the 
 British in possession of 
 their ground, but suffer- 
 ing from a severe repulse, 
 their loss being double 
 that of the Continentals. 
 
 This was the begin- 
 ning of the end with Bur- 
 goyne. On October 
 seventh he made another 
 attempt to break the 
 American lines, taking 
 fifteen hundred of his best 
 troops ; but his columns 
 were stubbornly met, and 
 finally, with Morgan, Dearborn, and Arnold leading, the Americans routed the 
 British and drove them to their intrenched camp, where the fighting was continued 
 until stopped by darkness. Arnold was on the field without authority, he having 
 been deprived of his command by Gates, but was unable to restrain his ardor, and 
 placed himself at the head of his old division, which he inspired to brilliant service ; 
 he was badly wounded in the later attack. 
 
 The British were now in a desperate situation; beaten and hopeless of reinforce- 
 ment they sought to retreat through Saratoga, but found themselves surrounded by 
 the gathering Americans, and a few days later Burgoyne gave up the attempt and 
 opened negotiations for surrender. The document was signed October sixteenth, 
 and by it an army of nearly six thousand, with all equipments, was turned over to 
 Gates, and the long-cherished plan to control the line from Canada to the mouth of 
 the Hudson came finally to naught. Clinton, in pursuance of belated orders, had 
 started to Burgoyne' s assistance, but his enthusiasm waned after capturing Forts Mont- 
 gomery and Clinton, and contenting himself with sending a detachment to raid King- 
 ston, which was burned October thirteenth, he returned to New York, leaving the 
 North, when rid of Burgoyne, in undisputed possession of the Americans. News of 
 this triumph was of inestimable help to the American cause in Europe, and created a 
 prestige that made possible the French Alliance. 
 
 Washington, though not active in this northern campaign, was none the less a 
 factor in its success, as his watchfulness and employment of Howe and his army in 
 the Middle South was largely for the purpose of maintaining the separation of the 
 British forces, which he knew to be essential to Ameri- 
 victory on the Hudson. While Burgoyne was 
 
 can 
 
 embarking, with so much clat, his ill-fated expedition, 
 Washington, who had removed from his winter 
 quarters at Morristown, New Jersey, to Middlebrook, 
 was endeavoring to check Howe's advance without 
 hazarding his small army in open battle. Howe, 
 tiring of these tactics, returned to New York, where, 
 
 a x* a t o a 
 
 New Jersey 
 
r^3B9paaffigs2S-fc-'* i<! *^' 
 
 to ^udtV* capture 
 omu 
 
 on July twenty-third, he embarked eighteen thousand men with a view of reaching 
 Philadelphia by water. Washington discovered his motive and immediately marched 
 his troops to that place, hoping to reassure the people before engaging the enemy. 
 His army in point of effectiveness numbered about ten thousand, though in actual 
 numbers several thousand more, and among his officers was the Marquis de Lafayette, 
 a young French nobleman, who, filled with sympathy and enthusiasm for the cause 
 of the colonies, had, in spite of the disapproval of his king, reached this country with 
 Baron de Kalb, a German veteran, and was by Congress commissioned Major- 
 General. Lafayette endeared himself to Washington and to the army, and became, 
 next to Washington, one of the most prominent figures in the war. 
 
 Howe, rinding the Delaware fortified against him, entered Chesapeake Bay and 
 landed his army at Elkton, Maryland, about fifty miles from Philadelphia. From 
 this point he marched toward the city, reaching Chad's Ford, on the Brandy wine 
 where the Americans were encamped September eleventh. The resulting battle 
 was disastrous to the patriots, and although well planned and bravely fought, ended 
 at night in their retreat to Chester, and later to the neighborhood of Philadelphia. 
 Count Pulaski, a Polish volunteer, distinguished himself in this action and was sub- 
 sequently commissioned Brigadier General by Congress, in recognition of his gal- 
 lantry. . 
 
 Washington, though defeated, still hoped to keep the British from Philadelphia, 
 and prepared to engage them again near Goshen, but was prevented by a severe 
 storm, and was then forced to withdraw to Reading to protect his stores, which were 
 threatened by the enemy. He left General Wayne with fifteen hundred men to 
 check the advance on Philadelphia, but the latter was surprised by a midnight attack 
 and driven back with considerable loss, leaving the city open to the invaders, who 
 
 1777 
 
ft* ertij 
 
 entered September twenty-sixth. 
 Fearing this result, Congress had 
 removed, some days before, to Lan- 
 caster, from which a few days later 
 
 '777 ^Si&imiBMil) it moved to York, where it remained 
 
 during the British occupancy of the 
 capital. 
 
 The danger to Reading having 
 passed, Washington resolved on an- 
 other attack, and with two thousand 
 five hundred reinforcements he en- 
 gaged the British troops stationed at 
 Germantown, near Philadelphia; 
 but through the failure of militia on 
 which he relied, the effort was de- 
 feated after a severe struggle, in 
 which the American loss was heavy. 
 Forts Mifflin and Mercer, the for- 
 mer on Mud Island, in the Dela- 
 ware, and the latter at Red Bank, 
 New Jersey, were still held by the 
 Americans, who had established 
 them to protect Philadelphia from 
 naval attack. These the British as- 
 saulted with the aid of the fleet from Chesapeake Bay, and after a determined 
 but hopeless resistance the Americans were forced to evacuate, November eighteenth, 
 leaving the harbor unobstructed for the passage of British ships. To close a season 
 disastrous in its immediate results, Washington, early in December, went into win- 
 ter quarters at Valley Forge, on the Schuylkill, and struggled to maintain the organ- 
 ization of his army under conditions which would have been insurmountable to 
 another general, or with an army striving for a lesser end. 
 
 The cause of independence experienced its darkest days in that memorable camp. 
 Thousands of men were unable to leave the rude huts they had built for shelter, for 
 J 777 lack of clothing to cover them; they were reduced to the barest extremity for food, 
 and yet their patriotism and faith in their commander triumphed over these miseries 
 and sustained them until spring, when a turn of fortune brought once more the neces- 
 saries of life and comfortable equipment. During the long winter, Washington 
 suffered not only the anguish of sympathy for his starving troops, but from the ma- 
 chinations of envious and disgruntled subordinates, and the criticism of some of the 
 leaders in Congress. It was hoped, by a considerable faction, to supersede Wash- 
 ington by Gates the latter' s victory over Bur- . 
 goyne being contrasted with Washington's cam- 
 paign about Philadelphia and sufficient support 
 was obtained to secure control of the Board of 
 War, which, with Gates at the head, was a 
 source of annoyance and affront to Washington, 
 while it utterly failed in its duties of providing for 
 the army. 
 
 D el a w are 
 

 
 While these conditions existed at the seat of war, forces were elsewhere working 
 for speedy and permanent improvement. The King of France, overborne by his 
 ministers, had signed early in February a treaty of alliance and commerce, acknowl- 
 edging the independence of the American Colonies. This meant money and ships 
 and ready supplies, besides establishing the United States on a recognized footing at 
 the capitals of Europe. The victory at Saratoga, which had encouraged France to 
 this action, had startled England into a belated concession of privileges, which a peace 
 commission was sent over to propose; but the time for such measures was past and 
 they were rejected by Congress, which declared that no proposals would be enter- 
 tained except on a basis of complete independence and the withdrawal of British 
 troops. This, of course, was not contemplated, and the commission ingloriously re- 
 turned. The action of France was regarded by England as a declaration of war, and 
 preparations were made for strengthening the situation of the troops in America. 
 General Howe, who, it was realized, had done nothing more than seize upon com- 
 fortable winter quarters for his army, was recalled and superseded by General 
 Clinton. Philadelphia being of no military value to the British without a line of 
 communication with the main army at New York, it was decided to abandon it ere 
 the French fleet could come to the assistance of Washington's army and force the 
 evacuation. In pursuance of these orders Clinton, who had assumed command the 
 latter part of May, so hastened preparations that on June eighteenth he left the city 
 and started his army across New Jersey. 
 
 Washington, whose patience and endurance the winter had so severely tried, was 
 now well equipped, thanks to the efforts of Greene, who in March, as quartermaster - 
 general, succeeded the incompetent Board of War ; the spring levies had filled his 
 ranks, and best of all, his army, which had been drilled all winter by Baron Steuben 
 a distinguished Prussian officer was now for the first time in perfect training. 
 Under such gratifying conditions it is not strange that Washington wished to inter- 
 cept Clinton and 
 match his strength <5fC^i*f ^?f"t 
 
 Tl 1 -"" *^ ^ * ^^ 
 
 against the British ; 
 but a council of his 
 officers by their dis- 
 approval so delayed 
 him, that, though 
 he finally overruled 
 their decision, Clin- 
 ton was then so far 
 advanced that to 
 overtake him re- 
 quired extraordin- 
 ary effort, and 
 forced the troops to 
 a fatiguing march, 
 which at the last 
 became so hurried 
 that many threw 
 away their knap- 
 
 n 
 
 Alliance 
 
sacks in their desire to reach the enemy. 
 The British were advised of Washing- 
 ton's approach, and though numbering 
 seventeen thousand, were headed for the 
 coast by the most direct route, their 
 march fast becoming flight under the 
 vexations of climate and the harassing 
 attacks of the New Jersey militia. On 
 the twenty-sixth of June they encamped 
 at Monmouth Court House with Wash- 
 ington but a few miles behind, and a de- 
 tachment under Lee, which had been sent 
 in advance, within striking distance. The 
 latter, Washington ordered to attack as 
 soon as the enemy should resume the 
 march in the morning, promising sup- 
 port as soon as he could come up. Lee, 
 an Englishman who had been a source 
 of trouble to Washington all through the 
 war, was impressed with Clinton's in- 
 vincibility, and fearing to engage him, 
 contented himself with unimportant man- 
 oeuvers, until Clinton, seeing his oppor- 
 tunity, charged, and had started the 
 Americans in retreat when Washington, 
 whom the incredible news found strain- 
 ing every nerve to reach the field of battle, 
 galloped on the scene, and overcome with 
 rage, demanded of Lee an explanation of 
 his course. This Lee was unable to 
 give, and ordering him to the rear, where 
 the next day he was court-martialed and 
 
 suspended from his command, Washington rallied the troops, that had failed wholly from 
 the lack of efficient ordering, and with the arrival of the main army recovered the 
 ground and drove the British in retreat. Under the cover of the night the retreat was 
 kept up, and Clinton succeeded in reaching the coast and embarking before the Ameri- 
 *77& cans could again come up with him. His army was reduced by two thousand, in the 
 march and battle, and had it not been for the incompetence of Lee, would have been 
 utterly destroyed. As it was, he was beaten, and the campaign which Washington had 
 lost at Brandy wine and Germantown, was redeemed at Monmouth. An incident of this 
 battle was the bravery of Molly Pitcher, the wife of an American artilleryman. 
 She was bringing water to her husband when she saw him fall, and heard an order for 
 withdrawing his gun ; determined that it should not be silenced, she took his place 
 and served the gun throughout the fight. In recognition of her patriotism Washington 
 appointed her a sergeant in the army, where she became widely known and popular. 
 During the summer of 1778 the war made little progress, so far as the main 
 armies were concerned. The British were now confined to New York, with an out- 
 
 toljerc firt 
 tan flag to a 
 
 m a & e 
 
post at Newport, Rhode Island, and evinced little inclination for aggressive measures. 
 Early in July the French fleet, under Count d' Estaing, appeared off" Sandy Hook, but 
 owing to their greater draught were unable to approach the British fleet. In lieu of 
 this, a plan was arranged for destroying, in conjunction with a land force, the British 
 garrison and ships at Newport. D' Estaing arrived there with his fleet August eighth, 
 and his presence with the forces under Sullivan, Greene, and Lafayette caused 
 the British to destroy their men-of-war and other vessels in the harbor. While 
 preparations for the attack were being made, a British squadron appeared, and the 
 French went outside to engage it, but a very severe storm arose and scattered the 
 fleets, injuring the vessels so that the British were forced to return to New York, and 
 the French went to Boston, to refit. Upon this the land forces, which also suffered 
 from the storm, were obliged to withdraw without accomplishing their purpose, 
 though a sharp engagement took place between four thousand reinforcements, which 
 Clinton had brought from New York, and a division under Green, in which the 
 British were repulsed. Clinton occupied himself in ravaging the surrounding country 
 and burning shipping at New Bedford, returning to New York soon afterward and 
 subsequently abandoning Newport. 
 
 One of the particularly disturbing features of the summer were the Indian 
 raids, made at the instigation of British agents and participated in by many Tories. 
 Wyoming, Pennsylvania, and Cherry Valley, New York, suffered frightfully in 
 this way, hundreds of men, women, and children falling victims to the tomahawk, 
 while in many instances the torture was much more severe. Further west the British 
 had seized old French trading posts and garrisoned them with regulars and Indians, to 
 ensure the unlimited extension of British territory when the victory should be won. 
 They also sought to uproot the settlement in what is now Kentucky, but were 
 tenaciously resisted by the hardy pioneers under the lead of Boone, Logan, 
 
 Kenton, and other intrepid woodsmen. 
 
 Among these was one who realized the 
 value of the outposts that the British had 
 seized, and determined that the vast terri- 
 tory dominated by them should be held by 
 Americans. Kaskaskia, Vincennes, and 
 Cahokia, in the Illinois country, were the 
 
 Pen nsy Iv ani a 
 
 1778 
 
C t) r to Jttansion < r v tu a n t o to n 33,1. 
 
 coveted settlements, and George Rogers Clark, a native of Virginia, the far-seeing 
 frontiersman who set out to take them with less than two hundred men, raised by his 
 personal efforts under the authority of Governor Patrick Henry of Virginia. Over- 
 coming all obstacles, they reached Kaskaskia on the evening of July fourth, and Clark 
 by skillful manceuvers took the garrison completely by surprise, and overpowering the 
 guards, compelled the surrender of forces two or three times greater in number than 
 777<? his own. Vincennes and Cahokia followed with little trouble, but the difficulty was 
 to hold the posts with his small following, of which many of the men were anxious 
 to return to their homes. At this time the British arrived with a strong force and 
 retook Vincennes, but owing to the lateness of the season hesitated about attacking 
 Kaskaskia, held by Clark with the main body of his command. Neither the season 
 nor the condition of the country had any terrors for Clark, and getting together one 
 hundred and seventy men who could be depended upon, they started for Vincennes 
 early in February, undertaking fearlessly a journey of over two hundred miles, in which 
 they experienced hardships of every kind, including hunger, and a march through miles 
 of icy water, waist high, but, in spite of these, arrived at their destination on the 
 twenty-second of the month, and after a short fight forced the fort to again surrender. 
 
 The importance of this exploit was far-reaching, as it not only secured to the 
 United States vast territory in the West, but it broke, from that time, the alliance 
 with the Indians, which the British had created with difficulty, and upon which they 
 largely depended. 
 
 The British, from their only stronghold, New York, kept up their devastating 
 raids on the surrounding country, descending early in September on Buzzards Bay, 
 where they destroyed shipping and privateers to the number of seventy sail, continu- 
 
ing through New Bedford and Fairhaven the pillage and destruction, and finally re- 
 turning to New York with a large number of cattle and sheep captured at Martha's 
 Vineyard. On the thirtieth of the same month they sailed to Little Egg Harbor, 
 New Jersey, where they captured a considerable quantity of American stores. 
 
 This employment of his army, while perhaps a degree more creditable than ab- 
 solute inaction, would never win for Clinton the control of America; and having 1778 
 tried and failed in successive attempts to hold the Northern and Middle States, the 
 British turned again to the South, as offering the only remaining opportunity for lasting 
 victory. Driven out of Boston, defeated and destroyed on the Hudson, balked at 
 Philadelphia, and menaced at New York, they with some reasonableness hoped, by 
 gaining a foothold in a thinly populated country, where loyalism was undoubtedly 
 stronger, to extend operations on a permanent basis until they could unite with the 
 Northern forces. The South, unmolested since Clinton and Parker's inglorious at- 
 tack on Charleston, was unprepared for resistance and was divided by party differ- 
 ences that under the strain of war developed into serious civil conflict. 
 
 To this promising field, then, Clinton turned his attention, with immediate results 
 that seemed to fully justify his deductions, and warranted confidence in the success of 
 his ultimate plan. A partially successful raid under General Provost came out of 
 Florida and pillaged the coast towns of Georgia, but the first important move was 
 against Savannah. On the twenty-ninth of December, Colonel Campbell landed 
 with an army of three thousand and attacked the city, which was defended by Gen- 
 eral Robert Howe with less than a thousand men, and those without experience in 
 action. The British were easily victorious, and completely scattered the opposing 
 force, taking some five hundred prisoners and capturing valuable stores. Following 
 this, Provost returned and captured Sunbury, which had repulsed his first raid, and 
 Campbell with a division of his troops advanced successfully on Augusta. Thus 
 Georgia, the last to renounce the royal authority, was the first to again feel its yoke, 
 the British being now in virtual possession of the State. 
 
 General Benjamin Lincoln was sent by Congress to command the Southern de- 
 partment, but met with little success. He succeeded in raising a small army, but '779 
 attempting prematurely to recover Augusta and Savannah, his force was seriously re- 
 duced without the attainment of his object, and he was obliged to retire to the hills 
 
 at I an ir 
 
 JCtjr ZflEft&f in ttjr 
 
with but a handful of men, leaving the British in full possession of Georgia. The 
 direct results of his campaign were the gallant repulse of the British at Fort Royal by 
 General Moultrie, the defeat and dispersal at Kettle Creek of a band of seven hun- 
 dred Tories under Colonel Boyd, who was shot in the engagement, and the preser- 
 J 779 vation of Charleston, which Provost had set out to attack, but from which he was 
 compelled by Lincoln's advance to withdraw. 
 
 Encouraged by their progress in the South, the British resumed with greater 
 boldness their periodic raids in the North. Under Sir George Collier and General 
 
 .3 r u o I tr 
 
 i a 
 
 Matthews they entered Hampton Roads, May ninth, ravaging Norfolk and Ports- 
 mouth, and then sailed for New York, where they assisted Clinton in capturing the 
 unfinished fortifications at Stony Point, by which the Americans had hoped to control 
 King's Ferry. An expedition had been sent against West Greenwich, Connecticut, 
 the previous March, which is memorable chiefly on account of General Putnam's 
 bold escape from what seemed certain capture. He had rallied a company to oppose 
 the British, who were on their way to destroy the salt-works at Horse Neck, but 
 was unable to offer effective resistance to the fifteen hundred invaders, and his men 
 were soon dispersed. Putnam sought to reach Stamford, but was pursued by the 
 British, who were fast gaining on him, when he turned his horse over the edge of a 
 steep, rocky bluff and rode safely to the bottom, leaving his astonished pursuers 
 
 Central 39utnam'0 
 
daunted and baffled at the top. An- 
 other expedition, under Governor 
 
 Tryon, left New York for Connecticut ^JtfMP^^^^^^?MHfc^ '779 
 
 early in July, and sailing along the coast 
 plundered New Haven, East Haven, 
 Fairfield and Norwalk, which latter 
 place was also burned. 
 
 These measures were met by the 
 Americans with movements against 
 Stony Point and Verplank's Point, and 
 later against the British garrison at 
 Paulus Hook. These were not wholly 
 retaliatory, as Washington feared from 
 the capture of Stony Point the exten- 
 sion of British occupation through a 
 series of such posts, which would ac- 
 complish all that was striven for in Bur- 
 goyne's campaign, and cut off his army 
 and the Southern states from the recruits 
 and supplies so generously furnished by 
 New England. He therefore deter- 
 mined to retake the fort at once, and 
 entrusted the work to General Wayne, 
 one of his most intrepid aids. General 
 Wayne with a few hundred men reached 
 the precipitous slopes in the rear of the 
 fort on the evening of July sixteenth, 
 and in a dashing assault, upon which the 
 heavy fire of the garrison made no im- 
 pression, they mounted the breast-works and compelled a speedy surrender. Nearly 
 five hundred prisoners were taken, and guns and munitions of great value captured. 
 After training the guns of the fort on Verplank's Point, opposite, and compelling 
 its evacuation, the Americans leveled the works and returned to the main army. 
 Their achievement is looked upon as one of the most brilliant of the war. 
 
 Paulus Hook, now the site of a part of Jersey City, was one of the strongest 
 natural positions held by the British; nearly surrounded by water, it was approach- Z 779 
 able only by the post road, of which it originally formed the terminus and landing 
 place of the ferry from New York. Major Harry Lee undertook the capture, and 
 
 surprised it early on the morning of August nine- 
 teenth. The British had little time for resistance 
 before they were overpowered by the attacking 
 party, which secured upwards of one hundred 
 and fifty prisoners a number greater than that 
 of the Americans and quickly withdrew, lest 
 the alarm spread to the main body of the enemy 
 and retreat be cut off. 
 
 Another undertaking, though carefully planned 
 
 Maryland 
 
 2D o o r to a p 
 a u e 3H 
 
 I^artuooti 
 
and fitted out at great 
 expense, met with dis- 
 
 '770 ^fiaSWT'^i-V &r m . ,, '**&& aster and utterly failed. 
 
 This was the expedition 
 against the British post 
 at Castine, near the 
 mouth of the Penobscot 
 River, organized in 
 Massachusetts, in which 
 thirty-seven vessels were 
 engaged, and had en- 
 tered the river, when, 
 on August thirteenth, 
 they were hemmed in 
 
 O It TV t 39 C V TV TV by a British fleet of su- 
 
 perior force which sud- 
 denly appeared. The Americans, rather than see their ships fall into the hands of the 
 British, beached and burned them, making their way back to Boston overland. 
 
 The American navy, from the poverty of national resources an inconsiderable 
 power heretofore, received at this time a memorable accession in the fleet under John 
 Paul Jones, fitted out at L' Orient, France, by the American and French govern- 
 ments. Jones, by birth a Scotchman, had already shown high ability in the service 
 of America, and when, after many tedious disappointments, he found himself in 
 command of an effective if not powerful fleet, he lost no time in making his presence 
 felt among the shipping of Great Britain. He intercepted and captured many 
 merchant vessels, in some cases boldly entering harbors to destroy them, and spread 
 terror of his name throughout the British Isles. These exploits, while of importance 
 in a scheme of warfare, were far from sufficient to the aggressive character of Jones, 
 and he eagerly sought an encounter with armed vessels, though the conditions might 
 apparently be against him. Such an opportunity came to him off Flamborough Head, 
 September twenty-third, when he overtook two British ships of war, the Serapis and 
 Countess of Scarborough, convoying a large fleet of merchantmen. Jones com- 
 manded the Bonhomme Richard, his flagship, and had with him but two other 
 7 779 vessels of his squadron, the Alliance and Pallas, the others having been lost sight 
 of in a gale. The British ships were greatly superior in size and armament, the 
 Serapis being the larger, and a much newer and stouter vessel than the Bonhomme 
 Richard, with which she engaged. The Countess of Scarborough soon struck to her 
 opponents, the Alliance and Pallas, and the three remained in a group apart, leaving 
 the two larger vessels to struggle for mastery. The 
 battle that ensued is renowned in history as an example 
 of the triumph of personal invincibility in the face of 
 apparent ruin. 
 
 The Bonhomme Richard and the Serapis fought at 
 
 close range until both were badly battered and pierced, |jfw ifr W\ 
 
 and then, grappled together, the guns of each touching 
 the other' s side, they continued their fearful work of car- 
 nage and destruction. On several occasions the Richard 
 
 (Kotntnoaotc 
 JJaul 
 
 Washington' s 
 Coat of Arms 
 
r n o tx 
 
 was reported to be 
 sinking, but by ex- 
 traordinary effort 
 was kept afloat, 
 and at last Pear- 
 son, the captain 
 of the Serapis, 
 yielded to his an- 
 tagonist at a mo- 
 ment when, as far 
 as material evi- 
 dence was credi- 
 ble, the vie tor y 
 might well have 
 been his own. 
 The Alliance, 
 which should have 
 helped the Rich- 
 ard, remained 
 
 aloof during the greater part of the engagement, and when at last she came up, 
 nearly ruined Jones's chance by firing broadsides which swept the deck of the Richard. 
 This action was excused on the ground of mistaken identity, but Landais' jealousy 
 of Jones and his restiveness under the latter' s superior authority, give color to a pre- 
 sumption of traitorous intent, and he was soon afterwards dismissed from the navy. 
 The prizes were taken to Holland, and Jones, after a short stay in Paris, where his 
 achievement was enthusiastically honored, returned to America, and received the 
 thanks of Congress for his eminent services. 
 
 While Jones was receiving his vessels from France, the French fleet under D' Es- 
 taing, which had been cruising in West Indian waters, suddenly returned to the 
 coast and captured four British men-of-war at Savannah. The French commander 
 resolved to follow up this victory by recovering the town, and sought the help of the 
 militia in the undertaking. Several weeks elapsed before the South Carolinians with 
 Lincoln, who came to their aid, could complete an effective organization, and in this 
 time the British had received reinforcements and erected formidable defences. D'Es- 
 taing, chafing under the delay, demanded an immediate attack, and on October ninth,' 
 the allies gallantly assaulted the works and succeeded in planting the flags of America 
 and France on the ramparts, but they could not maintain their position, and finally 
 were repulsed with great loss. The brave Pulaski was killed in this action, as was 
 Sergeant Jasper, the hero of Fort Moultrie ; and Count d'Estaing, who led his troops 
 in person, was severely wounded. The French fleet put to sea, and Lincoln, with 
 about two thousand men, withdrew to Charleston, where the people, desirous of pro- 
 tection, urged them to remain. 
 
 The British, encouraged by their victory, appeared off the coast of Georgia early 
 in 1780 with a fleet under Admiral Arbuthnot, bringing Clinton and eight thousand 
 men, who were placed in commanding positions about Charleston, where they were 
 joined by Cornwallis with troops to the number of three thousand. General 
 Lincoln, who had remained in the city, had been reinforced by a considerable body 
 
 '779 
 
 afc an n al) 
 
32 
 
 JT o o I 3 
 o ttti t 
 
 a tt 
 
 of Virginia veterans, but his forces could 
 offer no effective ^resistance to an army 
 numbering four to his one. Aided by 
 the fleet, which ran Fort Moultrie 
 without difficulty, the British instituted 
 an aggressive siege which resulted in the 
 capitulation of the city on May twelfth ; 
 General Lincoln and all his men were 
 taken prisoners. 
 
 With the loss of the last remnant of 
 Lincoln's army, organized defense was 
 obliterated in the South. The British 
 spread over and devastated South Caro- 
 lina as they did before in Georgia, 
 plundering all not avowedly loyal, and 
 committing outrages calculated to embit- 
 ter the patriots and strengthen them in 
 their later resistance. 
 
 A detachment of two thousand men 
 under DeKalb had been sent South to 
 augment the forces there, and this was 
 now utilized as a nucleus of a new army. 
 As many more were soon added by 
 enlistment and the accession of isolated 
 
 bands, and Gates, in whom Congress had great confidence, based on a misconception 
 of his part in the capture of Burgoyne, was sent, against the judgment of Washington, 
 to take command. Under conservative leadership this army would have grown and 
 developed into an effective force, but without waiting for these processes, and appar- 
 ently without consideration of its weakness, Gates led it to Camden, then an import- 
 ant center for the British. The despair resulting from the loss of Savannah and 
 Charleston had been broken by minor though brilliant successes at Fishing Creek and 
 Hanging Rock, and the patriots rallying under Marion, Sumter, and Pickens were 
 harassing the British with a partisan warfare destructive of their sense of security, 
 though lacking in effective organization. These leaders joined forces with Gates ; 
 but they added nothing to the strength of the attack on Camden, as both Marion 
 and Sumter were detached for special operations, the latter taking four hundred of 
 the best troops in addition to his own. 
 
 The British under Lord Rawdon, knowing of Gates' advance, set out to intercept 
 and surprise him, and on August sixteenth, the armies came suddenly together, neither 
 being aware of the proximity of the other. A battle 
 was immediately ordered, and a line of militia, ^ never 
 before under fire, was marched in the first charge 
 against the perfectly drilled regulars of the British. 
 The natural result was, that the Americans, frightened 
 by the solid fire of the enemy, broke and fled, leaving 
 to DeKalb and his Continentals the whole burden of 
 resistance. The latter fought with remarkable couf- 
 
 Vir gini a 
 
 in ttje Sotttf) 
 
ISntranct 
 Jttottnt 
 
 n 
 
 age, but they were hope- 
 lessly outnumbered, and, 
 after losing eight hundred 
 men, including DeKalb, 
 were obliged to retreat 
 and save themselves as 
 best they could. Sum- 
 ter's detachment, which 
 had captured the British 
 wagon train, was over- 
 taken by Tarleton and 
 routed with the loss of half 
 its men, killed or captured. 
 The re-formed southern 
 army, barely started in its 
 mission, was thus effec- 
 tually scattered, and once 
 more the British were free 
 to extend their lines and 
 prosecute their plan of 
 northward conquest. 
 
 This immunity was of short duration, however, the rigorous measures adopted by 
 Cornwallis quickly bearing fruit in an uprising fatal to British supremacy. Wishing 
 to free himself from the annoyance of local attacks, Cornwallis sent a division under 
 Colonel Ferguson to range the western borders of the Carolinas and intimidate the 
 inhabitants. The threats of the invaders roused the mountaineers, who had hitherto 
 contented themselves with repressing Indian aggression, and gathering under favorite 
 leaders, they assembled on the Watuga, late in September, to the number of nearly 
 twelve hundred. They chose Colonel Campbell leader of the Virginians chief 
 commander, and under his direction were more closely united and instructed in 
 methods of attack. They were later joined by upwards of three hundred from North 
 Carolina, and started to crush the detachment under Ferguson. The British com- 
 mander had word of their coming, and undertook to elude them ; but being unsuc- 
 cessful in this, took up a strong position on Kings' Mountain and awaited the con- 
 flict. To shorten the pursuit the backwoodsmen had divided their force, the pick of 
 men and horses to the number of seven hundred entering on a forced march, leaving 
 the rest to come up as they could. Riding night and day in their impatience to at- 
 tain their object, the Americans arrived in the vicinity of the British camp on the 
 morning of October seventh, and immediately arranged the attack. The British had 
 more men, and a strong position on the top of a wooded hill ; but every man in the 
 attacking force was a trained Indian fighter and thoroughly at home in such a situ- 
 ation. They charged from opposite sides of the hill, and a repulse on one side was 
 immediately followed by an assault on the other, thus keeping the British in constant 
 motion, and gradually reducing the intervening space, until arriving at the top they 
 surrounded and overpowered the enemy, forcing unconditional surrender. Ferguson 
 and fully one-third of his men were killed, and the victors secured a large store of 
 arms and ammunition, the lack of which was everywhere a serious hindrance to the 
 struggling patriots. 
 
 Jftountufn 
 
The tide of war thus ebbing and flowing, rose perceptibly for the Americans from 
 this time, the people, encouraged by the destruction of the merciless foe that dom- 
 inated the frontier, rising in scattered bands to pick off isolated British posts and even 
 driving the main army to seek security nearer the sea-coast. Marion and Sumter ap- 
 peared in unexpected quarters, cutting off supplies and routing loyalist militia, leading 
 Tarleton hither and thither in futile attempts to reach them. He finally came up 
 with Sumter at Blackstocks and was severely repulsed. The British, once more on 
 1780 the defensive, were checked in their northward march, and all that was needed to 
 permanently cripple them was an organized army to which the roving bands could 
 rally. This Congress undertook, for the third time, to supply ; but depleted ranks 
 and bankrupt finances were conditions not lightly subjected, and Greene, whom 
 Washington was privileged to appoint to this command, could obtain but little in 
 material equipment, either of men or outfittings, and was obliged to depend on ap- 
 peals to the Southern States, backed by recommendations of the central government. 
 In some aspects Greene's expedition was in the nature of a forlorn hope. Two 
 armies had been sacrificed in the same cause, exhausting the resources of the northern 
 division, which could now spare but a mere body-guard to the departing general. 
 Disaffection was rife in the Continental army on account of the worthlessness of the 
 currency with which it was paid, and enlistments were correspondingly difficult to 
 obtain. In the face of this discouraging outlook Greene went resolutely to his task, 
 rousing the country as he traveled through it and importuning the governors for aid 
 of any kind. His energetic measures brought him some immediate assistance, and 
 more followed as he journeyed South, leaving a train of activity where apathy had 
 
 <Br*n*r*l 
 
 Soutfj 
 
before prevailed. He reached Charlotte, North Carolina, December second, and 
 relieved Gates, who had since his defeat at Camden gathered the available militia of 
 the state to the number of two thousand, to replace his lost army. These troops 
 were raw and undisciplined, but with Steuben and Lee, whom Congress had assign- 
 ed to the Southern department, Greene set about the work of fitting them for service, 
 while they also formed a nucleus for gathering recruits. 
 
 In appointing Greene to the command of the Southern division, Washington had 
 deprived his army of a strong general, but he was content in the knowledge of the 
 special fitness of Greene for the duty to which he was assigned. His notable service 
 as quartermaster-general after the failure of the Bo.ard of War, and his eminent abil- 
 ity in the field, were considerations that impelled Washington to urge his appoint- 
 ment to this post after the destruction of Lincoln's army at Charleston; but Congress, 
 enamoured of Gates, chose the latter. In the interval since that time the contrast of 
 ability in the two men had become 
 apparent even to Congress. While 
 Gates hurried to destruction in the 
 South, Greene gained fresh honors in 
 New Jersey, where he checked Clin- 
 ton's advance at Springfield and sent 
 him in retreat to Staten Island. 
 
 Incursions of this character were 
 the extent of British activity in the 
 North during the spring and summer 
 of 1780. Washington had moved 
 into New Jersey and driven out Knyp- 
 hausen, whose force was greatly su- 
 perior, before Clinton arrived from 
 Charleston ; and while the latter was 
 engaged in his abortive raid, the Ameri- 
 can commander defended his position 
 on the Hudson. His army, impover- 
 ished and reduced in numbers through 
 the incapacity of Congress, was re- 
 inforced by the arrival at Newport, 
 Rhode Island, July tenth, of a power- 
 ful French fleet under Admiral Ternay, 
 bringing Count de Rochambeau with 
 six thousand soldiers. The strength 
 of the allied forces was thus sufficient 
 to imperil the British at New York, 
 and their outlying posts were finally 
 abandoned for the better protection of 
 the larger interests. 
 
 At the British headquarters, and 
 in the heart of the American councils, 
 events were making for one of the 
 saddest burdens that Washington, in 
 
 1780 
 
 1780 
 
 .JT 
 
 of jFtttuf) 
 
all the misfortunes of the Revolution, was called upon to bear. Benedict Arnold, whose 
 name is now identified with treachery, was at that time one of the most valiant officers 
 in the patriot army. Impetuous and ardent, he was ever at the forefront of action, and 
 his self-ignoring courage inspired those about him to victorious effort in the face of 
 impending disaster. He had led a starving army through the northern wilderness to 
 
 Z 775 Quebec, his energetic struggle for the control of Lake Champlain had delayed by a 
 
 7776 year the British advance to the Hudson and operated for its final defeat, and his re- 
 surgent valor at Saratoga turned the tide of battle in favor of his cause. The elements 
 of character that contributed to these worthy ends were equally potent in self-seeking 
 
 ^777 baseness, when the high impulse of .patriotism had given place to one of personal gain 
 and revenge. The wound received by Arnold in the charge at Saratoga incapacitated 
 him, temporarily, for active service, and when sufficiently recovered he was put in 
 
 7 77^< command of Philadelphia, which the British had then recently evacuated. Here he 
 married the daughter of a Tory, and formed associations that opened the way for 
 later operations. Life at the capital developed the weaknesses of his nature, and he 
 became involved in difficulties that brought him successively before a committee of 
 
 '779 Congress and a court-martial ; the former exonerated him, but the latter, though 
 acquitting him of the charges preferred, qualified the verdict by directing Washington 
 to administer a formal reprimand. The harshness of this measure was greatly miti- 
 
 arter* 
 
 sirnolir 
 
gated by the implied praise which 
 Washington, who admired Arnold 
 and believed him wronged, incor- 
 porated in the rebuke ; but to 
 Arnold it was no less a rebuke, 
 and it weighed in turning him from 
 a life of honor to one of ignominy. 
 Smarting under his wrong, real 
 or fancied, and looking to the possi- 
 bilities of personal emolument, he 
 opened cautious communication 
 with the British, who saw in this 
 an opportunity of acquiring by 
 treachery what they could not take 
 by force of arms. The American 
 fort at West Point, on the Hudson, 
 was coveted, and Arnold set out to 
 obtain the post of commandant that 
 he might work its ruin, for which 
 he was to receive a large money 
 consideration and a commission as 
 brigadier-general in the British 
 army. Though Washington had 
 other plans for Arnold's employ- 
 ment, such was his regard for the 
 man, that he deferred to the lat- 
 
 of 
 Cucftaijoe 
 
 anfc 
 
 ter' s wishes, and the first requirement of the plot was effected. From possession it 
 was but a step to .delivery; but that step was carelessly executed by Major Andre, 
 the British emissary sent to meet Arnold and arrange the details, and while on his 
 way back to the Vulture, a sloop-of-war which had brought him up the river, he 
 was captured at Tarrytown and the full import of his mission discovered. John 
 Paulding, David Williams and Isaac Van Wart, the vigilant rangers who seized 
 Andr6, took him, in spite of liberal offers for liberty, to the American headquarters 
 at Northcastle ; and a few days later he was hanged at Tappan, after having confessed 
 to being a spy, and notwithstanding strenuous efforts on the part of Clinton to save 
 his officer's life. Through a blunder of the officers to whom Andre was delivered, 
 Arnold was notified of the failure of his conspiracy and succeeded in escaping to 
 the British on the day, September twenty-fifth, that the surrender was to have 
 taken place. 
 
 To Washington, who arrived unexpectedly at West Point on the morning of 
 Arnold's flight, the moral disappointment was particularly severe. Arnold was a 
 valuable officer, but the gap which he left could, in a way, be filled. The real 
 calamity was the shaken confidence in human integrity engendered by the perfidy of 
 one so highly esteemed, and who owed so much to the kindly consideration of his 
 superior. It opened unconsidered possibilities of defeat, and such was the improba- 
 bility in Arnold's case that no limit could be set to unwelcome suspicion. Happily 
 no further cause for such existed, and the treason of Arnold remains the one blot on 
 the record of patriotism. 
 
t o ti e t 
 
 In the North the year 1780 closed as it had passed, without important aggression 
 by either side. To Washington, in his quarters in New Jersey, the outlook was 
 cheerless in the extreme. All the old familiar besetments of failing men and scant 
 supplies harassed him with stubborn persistence. As an executive body Congress 
 was a failure, and Washington's strenuous entreaties were received with indifference 
 and apathy. The lack of funds was the most serious difficulty, and after its own 
 conspicuous failure in this field, Congress, with unusual discernment, shifted the 
 burden to an individual of large means and earnest patriotism, by appointing Robert 
 Morris, of Philadelphia, to be Superintendent of Finances. In the early days of the 
 war, Morris had answered Washington's appeal with fifty thousand dollars raised on 
 his personal credit, and, though the task was one that few men would have cared to 
 undertake and fewer still have succeeded in, he now applied his ripe business ability 
 to the problem, and with the cooperation of Gouverneur Morris, of New York, 
 established a bank and raised the credit of the government on the strength of his own 
 acceptance of the trust. The money thus available was of immense assistance to 
 Washington, enabling him to recoup his army at a most critical time, when, as later 
 developments proved, unreadiness would have been fatal. 
 
 Benedict Arnold, with his commission from King George, had been sent to ravage 
 
 i-j8i Virginia, and with Cornwallis and Tarleton in the Carolinas, the importance of the 
 
 British strength in the South was clearly apparent to the American commander. He 
 
 dispatched Lafayette with twelve hundred men to meet Arnold, who was burning and 
 
 lioferrt 
 
pillaging with the energy that had been characteristic of his worthy efforts. Early 
 in March, Lafayette reached Annapolis, at which place he was to join the French 
 fleet which had been sent from Newport to convoy him to Portsmouth, where 
 Arnold was entrenched. The plan was frustrated by the appearance of a British 
 fleet under Arbuthnot near the entrance to Chesapeake Bay, and as a result of the 
 ensuing action the French were obliged to return to Rhode Island, leaving Lafayette 17%* 
 without the means of reaching Arnold. Clinton, though yet with no plan beyond 
 disconnected raids, sent General Phillips with two thousand men to join Arnold, 
 whom the former was to relieve of command. His mission thus rendered hopeless, 
 Lafayette was ordered to join Greene, who was beginning to make his presence felt 
 in the farther South. 
 
 One of the typical figures of the war was Daniel Morgan of Virginia. Born to 
 humble station, he served as private in the early Indian wars, and at the outbreak of 
 the Revolution raised a regiment of Virginia riflemen and hurried to the front. 
 His men formed an important part of the expedition to Quebec and were prominent 
 in many later actions, notably at Saratoga, where they won the praise of the enemy. 
 Morgan had not received the recognition his achievements merited and had with- 
 drawn to his Virginia plantation, when Gates' s defeat at Camden revealed the desper- 
 ate situation of the cause in the South. Repressing personal considerations, he made 
 haste to join Gates, and soon received from Congress a commission as brigadier-general. 
 He was engaged in organizing his troops when Greene arrived, and with the approval 
 of the latter he moved to the westward, and gathering the militia, stopped the ravages 
 of loyalists in that section. Cornwallis 
 watched with apprehension Morgan's 
 growing power, and sent Tarleton, with 
 his light infantry, to check his operations. 
 Morgan retreated before him until he 
 reached a favorable position at Cowpens 
 on the boundary between North and 
 South Carolina where he established 
 himself, and instructing and encouraging 
 his men, he waited in battle order for the 
 British to come up. They arrived on 
 the seventeenth of January and dashed 
 upon the Americans with an impetuosity 
 calculated to break the ranks of the lat- 
 ter; but they were prepared for this and 
 met the assault boldly, changing forma- 
 tion to bring fresh troops to the front, 
 and then by a partial retreat led the British 
 forward, enabling a division under Colo- 
 nel Washington to attack them in the 
 rear. Met by fire before and behind, 
 the enemy soon succumbed in uncondi- 
 tional surrender. Tarleton himself es- 
 caped^ but upwards of six hundred of 
 his men fell into the hands of the Ameri- 
 
 1781 
 
 at 
 
1781 
 
 t 
 
 cans, with all the arms 
 and baggage of the com- 
 mand. Morgan's victory 
 was a brilliant one, his 
 force being inferior to 
 that of his adversary, and 
 was largely the result of 
 clear judgment and care- 
 ful planning, backed by 
 experienced troops. 
 
 Although Tarleton's 
 command was destroyed, 
 it was dangerous for Mor- 
 gan to remain within 
 reach of Cornwallis, who 
 was sure to retaliate for 
 the loss of his favorite 
 regiment; and as soon as 
 the battle was over a rapid 
 retreat was begun, which, 
 before the next morning, had carried the Americans well beyond the Broad 
 River. Events proved the wisdom of this course, and the advantage thus gained 
 barely sufficed to save them from the pursuing army, which was lightened by burning 
 its heavy baggage, that the chase might be unimpeded. Greene also realized the 
 importance of outwitting Cornwallis, and on learning of the victory started at once 
 to join Morgan, at the same time sending messengers ahead to gather boats at all the 
 rivers on the line of march, that everything might be in readiness when the troops 
 arrived. Without this foresight all the strenuous efforts of Morgan would have come 
 to naught, as successively at the Catawba and the Yadkin the Americans had only 
 the river between them and their pursuers. 
 
 Greene's army, following close upon its general, joined Morgan's division at 
 Guilford, the ninth of February, and together they continued the flight to the Dan, 
 where Kosciuszko, sent ahead by Greene, was preparing defences. The British 
 were so close behind that it was only by employing a rear guard to engage them in 
 skirmishes that the Americans succeeded in crossing the river ; when this was safely 
 accomplished the skirmishing party followed rapidly, leaving the enemy baffled at the 
 bank. The British had no boats, and as it was out of the question to ford under 
 the fire of the Americans, they withdrew and gave up the chase. 
 
 Greene soon returned to the country south of the Dan, and for some weeks har- 
 rassed Cornwallis by raids on outlying divisions, and by intercepting his recruits and 
 supplies. Every attempt to reach the Americans was frustrated by a rapid change of 
 position, and after seriously fatiguing his army to no purpose, Cornwallis withdrew 
 to rest his men and seek recruits. This gave Greene a like opportunity, and the 
 militia, for which his aides had scoured the neighboring states while the British were 
 being held in check, began to arrive in appreciable force. When sufficiently strength- 
 ened, Greene, who saw the necessity of a battle which should cripple his adversary, 
 even though himself obliged to retreat, marched to Guilford Court House, which he 
 
had selected as an advantageous position. The next day, March fifteenth, the British 
 accepted the challenge and boldly opened the attack. Greene's forces, which number- 
 ed somewhat over four thousand, were largely untrained militia, and at the first 
 charge of the enemy, the firing line, thus constituted, broke and fled without offering 
 any effective resistance. The Continentals, who were next behind, fought with 
 steady regularity and twice repulsed the British, who only saved the day by the reck- 
 less use of artillery fired through their own ranks. Greene withdrew in good order, 
 but minus a large part of the militia, which failed to return after the first rout. 
 
 Cornwallis, who lost in the neighborhood of six hundred men, took up his march to 
 Wilmington to refit before coming northward. Greene immediately followed him, 
 although defeated and with his force reduced by desertion his loss in battle being less 1781 
 than a third that of the British; but he was compelled by the continued desertion of 
 militia to abandon the pursuit at the Deep River when almost up with the enemy. 
 
 With the British forces divided, as they were by Cornwallis's expedition to Virginia, 
 it became necessary for Greene to choose between following the former to the North, 
 and the alternative of moving against Lord Rawdon, who held Camden and a chain 
 of fortified posts in South Carolina. He chose the latter plan, and quickly with- 
 drawing from the vicinity of Cornwallis, that the latter might not detect his purpose in 
 time to obstruct his movement, he marched for Camden, April second, and arrived that 
 night at Hobkirk's Hill, within a short distance of the enemy's works. Rawdon, think- 
 ing to surprise Greene, whom he knew to be as yet without artillery, led an attack early 
 on the morning of April 
 seventh, and succeeded 
 in dislodging the Ameri- 
 cans. Greene was sur- 
 prised, but not unpre- 
 pared, as he had camped 
 his army in battle form to 
 guard against this possi- 
 bility. The struggle was 
 sharp, and for some time 
 the advantage appeared 
 to be with the Ameri- 
 cans, but at a critical 
 moment one of those 
 unnecessary weakenings, 
 which had turned the 
 scale against them on 
 many other occasions, 
 broke the formation, and 
 seeing the inevitable re- 
 sult, Greene withdrew 
 his men while yet pos- 
 sible to do so without 
 sacrifice. 
 
 Reinforcements 
 reached Rawdon a few 
 
42 
 
 1781 
 
 weeks later, in spite of Lee and Marion, who, at the first inception of the plan, had 
 been sent to cut off* his supplies. With this added force, Rawdon started out early 
 in May to reach, by a detour, a position in Greene's rear, which he hoped to find 
 unguarded. The sagacious general was not to be caught in such a simple manner, 
 however, and changed his position for one so strong that the British feared to attack. 
 Unable to dislodge Greene, and threatened by the latter' s outlying divisions, which 
 had already taken Fort Watson, one of his important posts, Rawdon abandoned 
 Camden, May tenth, and moved to the sea-coast. On his way he hoped to 
 strengthen the garrison at Fort Motte, but he was too late, and arrived May twelfth, 
 just in time to witness its surrender. Sumter had taken Orangeburg the day before, 
 and Neilson's Ferry and Fort Granby fell within a few days. Lee and Pickens 
 with their divisions entered Georgia and captured Fort Galphin, May twenty-first, 
 reaching Augusta, their objective point, a few hours later. Here they met deter- 
 mined resistance. The two forts, Grierson and Cornwallis, were besieged, and 
 the former, which was the weaker, was soon taken by Pickens, enabling him to go 
 to the assistance of Lee, whose operations had so far had little effect on the strong 
 garrison of Fort Cornwallis, which fought gallantly and held out with stubborn 
 tenacity. The Americans were no less determined, however, and gradually weak- 
 ening the defense by daily engagements, they finally assaulted the fort on June fifth, 
 and forced its surrender. 
 
 One of the strongest British posts in the South, and after the fall of Augusta the 
 only one in that section remaining in their control, was Ninety-Six, Georgia. To 
 this Greene directed his attention after recuperating his army, and opened systematic 
 
 jFattninflton t &l) av'l o ttea fo t II* 
 Stttnur, He* an* tftcfccus 
 
 Designed by 
 Thomas J e f f e r s o n 
 
tt s* t 
 
 Designed by Sir Christopher Wren 
 
 Ta* 
 
 siege operations, which, with the help of Lee, who had joined him after the victory 
 of Augusta, had reduced the strong garrison to a point where surrender could not be 
 long delayed, when the Americans received word of the approach of Lord Rawdon, 
 who had again left the seaboard to come to the relief of the besieged post. Greene, 
 who was too weak- to cope with such a force, reluctantly withdrew and led Rawdon 
 a futile chase from point to point, until the latter, unable to disperse the Americans, 
 and fearing to remain in the position he had come so far to sustain, withdrew from 
 Ninety-Six, taking the garrison and loyalists, and returned finally to the coast. 
 Thus the purpose of Greene's campaign, apparently frustrated, was accomplished by 
 the force of conditions his earlier work had created. 
 
 Detachments of the American troops followed the retreating British to the out- 
 skirts of Charleston, harassing them and preventing scattered raids and pillage. They 
 also, as a result of engagements with outlying commands, captured upwards of one 
 hundred and fifty prisoners, among whom were a number of officers. 
 
 Lord Rawdon embarked for England early in July, and his successor, Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Stewart, undertook to reoccupy the country from which Rawdon had been 
 driven. He started, late in August, with between two and three thousand men, and 
 camped on the Santee near Fort Motte. Greene, who was encamped in the neigh- 
 boring hills, had rested and strengthened his army, and he set out on receipt of in- 
 
for m a t i o n of 
 Stewart's move- 
 ments, to inter- 
 cept the latter 
 and at the same 
 time to assail his 
 communications 
 by detachments 
 in his rear. This 
 plan was so suc- 
 cessful that the 
 British were 
 obliged to with- 
 draw to Eutaw 
 Springs, some 
 twenty miles 
 down the river. 
 Here they se- 
 lected a strong 
 
 position and awaited the Americans, who reached that vicinity September seventh, but 
 were undiscovered until the morning of the eighth, a short time before they were ready 
 to attack. The armies were evenly matched, and although the Americans pressed 
 steadily forward and easily destroyed the enemy's outer lines, the resistance was able and 
 determined, and for a while seemed sufficient to hold the ground. At this point 
 Greene's superior tactics prevailed, and the Continentals, being formed in to replace 
 the exhausted militia, which had so far borne bravely the brunt of the battle, charged 
 *7 Sl the British before they had time to recover from the fire of the militia, and pene- 
 trating their line, drove them in disorder to the shelter of a brick building about 
 which the camp was set. Unfortunately the victors were over-confident of suc- 
 cess and scattered in search of plunder, with the result that the British were enabled 
 to gather sufficient strength to render the final outcome doubtful, and Greene, bit- 
 terly disappointed, yet ever watchful of the safety of his army, felt compelled to 
 withdraw and trust to the severity of the blow he had inflicted to force the enemy 
 to retreat. He took with him five hundred prisoners, making the British loss, with 
 those left on the field, nearly a thousand; which, as was anticipated, decided Stewart 
 to return to the coast, where the protection of the British ships formed their only 
 stronghold. As before, detachments under Marion and Lee followed and harassed 
 the retreating army, which, to be less encumbered, destroyed large quantities of 
 stores, and left behind more than a thousand stands of arms. Greene retired, 
 according to his custom, to gather reinforcements, and later moved to the vicinity of 
 Charleston, where his presence served to restrain the British and check their raids on 
 the surrounding country; but his work was practically done, and the South, the most 
 cruelly devastated section of the Union, was, with the exception of a few points on 
 the coast, freed from British dominion. 
 
 Simultaneously with these victories in South Carolina came the master-stroke of 
 the Revolution, the operations about Yorktown which led to the surrender of Corn- 
 wallis. The successive raids into Virginia had attracted attention to that quarter, 
 
 Sutato 
 
but the expedition under Phillips that added two thousand men to Arnold's already 
 strong force, and Cornwallis' s approach from the South, gave to the situation there 
 an importance not hitherto possessed. 
 
 Washington, in his survey of existing conditions, realized the necessity of a decisive 
 engagement that should successfully terminate the Revolution, which otherwise stood 
 in grave danger of dissolution as a result of the apathy and incompetence of Congress, 
 and the failure of the states not directly menaced, to continue the much-needed 
 supplies of money and men. To this end he sought the cooperation of Rochambeau 
 and his French troops, and the fleet under De Barras, recently arrived at Newport. 
 The choice lay between New York and Yorktown, at either of which places the 
 ships could cooperate with the land forces, an essential condition to the complete 
 victory that Washington desired to ensure. His preference at first was for New 
 York as offering the greater opportunity, and early in July a combined attack was 
 made on the forts at the upper end of Manhattan. The attempt was fruitless as to 
 its main issue, but it served to alarm Clinton, and caused him to withdraw further 
 aid from Cornwallis ; it also served as a feint and enabled Washington to make un- 
 suspected preparations for carrying out the alternative plan, to attack the forces now 
 combined and entrenched at Yorktown. This plan gained opportune encouragement 
 by the receipt of assurance of cooperation from Count De Grasse, who was on his 
 way from the West Indies with another and larger fleet. 
 
 Lafayette, whom Cornwallis unsuccessfully endeavored to isolate, had been joined 
 by Wayne with his command, and together they had driven the British from the interior, 
 
 engaging them at Williamsburgand Green Spring, and 
 held them at bay at Yorktown. Neither Cornwallis 
 nor Clinton had any idea that Washington would 
 abandon New York with his main army, and this, 
 with the operations already attempted, and the elabor- 
 ate preparations made by the latter with the appar- 
 ent purpose of continuing on the same lines, enabled 
 the allied armies to slip away, leaving only a detach- 
 ment to hold the British to Manhattan, and get 
 well out of reach before Clinton discovered their 
 absence. When he became aware of the move- 
 ment he vainly endeavored to divert them from 
 their purpose by sending Arnold, who had been un- 
 appreciatively ordered north by Cornwallis, into 
 Connecticut to ravage and excite the country. Forts 
 Trumbull and Griswold, near New London, were 
 taken, and at the latter, Colonel Ledyard and nearly 
 a hundred of his men were murdered, after having 
 surrendered in good faith. New London was burned 
 to complete the wanton destruction. 
 
 The armies under Washington crossed the Hud- 
 son August nineteenth, and marching through Phila- 
 delphia, arrived September eighth at the head of 
 Chesapeake Bay, where they gathered transports 
 and awaited the French fleet. De Grasse had 
 
 jFtranftfotrt 
 
 1781 
 
 Designed by 
 Thomas J eff e r s o n 
 
 of 3UU9 
 
arrived at the entrance to 
 the Chesapeake and was 
 landing troops sent to re- 
 inforce Rochambeau, when 
 a British fleet under Ad- 
 miral Graves appeared off 
 the capes, and the French 
 at once went out to meet 
 it. The ensuing action, 
 while not eminently de- 
 cisive, was severely felt by 
 the British, who lost one 
 ship and were obliged to 
 sail north to refit. On his 
 return, De Grasse found 
 awaiting him the squad- 
 
 l ci t* It p? o tt 8 e ron under De Barras > wh 
 
 had eluded the English fleet 
 
 * * If ^f^ A ^+ A+ ** *5^ % * ^[ft- -%% 
 
 W I 41 * 17 V Jf 7*? I 4 I xfr J? * sent to intercept him, and 
 
 arrived safely with trans- 
 ports and siege tools, and together they proceeded up the bay and brought down 
 the troops, which were landed at Williamsburg, September twenty-sixth. Joined 
 by Lafayette and the French reinforcements, the combined armies, numbering in 
 the neighborhood of sixteen thousand men, took up positions about Yorktown, Sep- 
 tember twenty-eighth, and laid down the first lines of the siege. 
 
 With the river, against which the town was set, and Gloucester Point, opposite, 
 in the hands of the enemy, Yorktown was ill-adapted to successful defense, and 
 Cornwallis soon found himself surrounded with steadily approaching armies. His 
 first position was in trenches outside the town, but he was soon obliged to withdraw 
 to the inner fortifications, while the besiegers occupied his abandoned works. Day 
 by day the lines contracted and the heavy guns battered the defenses with steady ef- 
 fectiveness. October fourteenth two outlying redoubts were taken, one by the 
 Americans and one by the French, and Cornwallis, realizing the desperateness of his 
 situation, resolved to stake all on an attempt to escape by the river. On the night of 
 the sixteenth he embarked a detachment of his men which reached the opposite bank 
 in safety, but the sudden advent of a storm frustrated his plan, and the troops already 
 over were with difficulty brought back the following day. 
 
 His last hope gone, Cornwallis sought terms of surrender, and on the eighteenth 
 the articles were signed. The next day eight thousand men laid down their arms to 
 the Americans, and the British ships with a thousand more were delivered to the 
 French. The ceremony was very imposing, the conquered army assuming all the 
 dignity permitted by the articles of surrender. Cornwallis remained in his quarters 
 under plea of sickness, presenting his apologies to Washington through General 
 O'Hara, who also delivered the British commander's sword to General Lincoln, 
 whom Washington, as a slight recompense for the former's like humiliation at Char- 
 leston, had appointed to receive it. 
 
 The careful plan had been wrought out, the overwhelming blow had been struck; 
 
 CTorntoaUts sttr rentiers 
 
t palace Iteto-J&ertte 
 
 and although it could not be immediately known, the end of the Revolution had 
 come. To Washington there yet appeared much need of continued effort, and great 
 exertion was required on his part to prevent an easy relaxation after such a notable 
 victory. King George was still insistent for war, and the British still held New York 
 and Charleston. 
 
 Further reinforcements were sent to Greene, who continued to watch Stewart at 
 the latter place, and Washington withdrew his army to the highlands of the Hudson. 
 Clinton, with late awakening to the danger of Cornwallis's position, had started with 
 a relief expedition and arrived at the entrance to the Chesapeake five days after the 
 surrender. He immediately returned to New York, where the winter was quietly 
 spent, and in the spring was succeeded by Sir Guy Carleton, whose appointment 
 marked the accession of the peace party in Parliament, and whose mission was as 
 much diplomatic as belligerent. 
 
 Washington's fear of further aggression and his appeals for continued vigilance, 
 while justified by considerations of ordinary caution, and the unchanged attitude of 
 King George, were happily unfounded, and events slowly but inevitably forwarded 
 the termination of the war. 
 
 In England, irresistible surgings of public opinion were steadily decreasing the bal- 
 ance of power held by the King and his party, and by the first of March following 
 the surrender at Yorktown they were reduced to a minority. King George, whose 
 every measure in the history of the war had been too late for its opportunity, still 
 clung to the hope of crushing the rebels, but he was practically alone, and before the 
 month had passed, Lord North, his prime minister, was forced by the opposition in 
 Parliament to dissolve his cabinet and resign the government to the Whigs. Rock- 
 
 ingham came in at the head of the dominant party, 
 but he was broken in health and died soon after, his 
 place being taken by Lord Shelburne, then secre- 
 tary of state. 
 
 Franklin, to whose victories of diplomacy America's 
 standing abroad was chiefly due, had already opened 
 negotiations with Shelburne; and with Richard Oswald, 
 the latter' s agent, had drafted at Paris the terms of 
 peace. After much diplomatic contention, in which 
 
 1782 
 
 North Carolina 
 
 JCijc ISutr of UK 
 
Franklin was joined by John Adams, Henry 
 J Laurens, and John Jay; and Oswald by Henry 
 
 Strachey, the preliminary articles were signed the 
 thirtieth of November. It was nearly a year 
 later, September twenty-third, 1783, when the 
 final treaty was signed, but the work was done 
 when the first draft was agreed to, and this country 
 is indebted to the keenness and ability of its rep- 
 resentatives, especially to 
 Franklin, for much more 
 advantageous terms than 
 could reasonably, have 
 been expected. 
 
 The troubles of the 
 embryo nation having 
 diminished with regard to 
 England, the looseness 
 and insufficiency of the 
 central government be- 
 came alarmingly apparent, 
 and the army, the only 
 real power, from being 
 the instrument of liberty, 
 
 threatened oppression of another form. All through the war the inability of Congress to 
 provide for the army had been an almost paralyzing difficulty, but in one way or another 
 Washington had been able to bridge this condition and maintain an effective organi- 
 zation. With the war ended and the urgency of action less apparent, Congress was 
 at the point of abandoning the soldier with no provision for arrears of pay, and no as- 
 surance of even remote recompense for the hardships endured and the battles won. 
 ^783 The disaffection thus engendered permeated the entire army and needed but the lead- 
 ership of an active spirit to rise to organized revolt. This leader was at hand in the 
 person of Major John Armstrong, and through him the grievances of officers and men 
 were declared in the form of a written address, in which the army was called upon to 
 rise in its power and assume the government. Early in the previous year a some- 
 1782 what similar movement had resulted in a proposition to crown Washington and de- 
 clare him king ; but though touched by this evidence of devotion, his high character 
 was proof against all allurement, and he unhesitatingly rejected the offer, denouncing 
 the principle, and pointing out the priceless benefits of the liberty for which they had 
 fought. This later and more determined demonstration called for more decisive ac- 
 tion, as it was approved by the general body of officers, and a day appointed for in- 
 augurating the plan. 
 
 Filled with grief, alike for the necessities of his men and the danger of the nation, 
 Washington rebuked the movement in general orders, and then, calling his officers to 
 r 7 8 3 meet him, he reviewed the seriousness of the step contemplated, and with deep 
 emotion appealed to them to stand by him and their country, trusting to the final 
 triumph of justice and the righting of their wrongs. Promising his continued efforts 
 in their behalf, the general withdrew, and the officers, yielding to his entreaties, 
 
 Xnsutrtrrction imminent 
 
3F mne* <oo$e (Treett Jtdt. 
 
 formally resolved against 
 the uprising. Alarmed 
 by the imminence of this 
 peril, Congress was stirred 
 to action, and by partial 
 payment, and land war- 
 rants, succeeded in paci- 
 fying the troops, prepara- 
 tory to disbandment. 
 
 Wayne, whom Greene 
 had sent, soon after his 
 arrival from Yorktown, to 
 operate in Georgia, drove 
 the British out of Savan- 
 
 nah the following July, and on the fourteenth of December the same year, two 
 weeks after the preliminary treaty was signed at Paris, they evacuated Charleston. 
 New York was now the only port held, and Carleton occupied that uneventfully 
 during the following year, until the signing of the final treaty, September twenty-third, 
 was announced. He departed in state, November twenty-fifth, and as. the British 
 marched to their boats, Washington, with Governor Clinton, entered from the north 
 and took possession. By this final act the United States were freed from British sover- 
 eignty, and the independence declared in 1776 was accomplished before the world. 
 
 His work finished, Washington called his officers about him, and bade them fare- 
 well with the simple dignity that had characterized his communion with them, but 
 with deep emotion and fervent wishes for their future prosperity. In silence and in 
 tears he embraced each one, and then, departing, made his way to the ferry, followed 
 by the company, and, entering his barge, he raised his hat in final salute and began his 
 homeward journey. What the Revolution could have been without Washington, is 
 difficult to imagine. Through it all he stands preeminent, and continued study of 
 his life serves but to further impress his greatness. To the wisdom and courage that 
 planned his operations and effected them, were added nobleness and virtue that bound 
 his army to him in bonds of love, that held when duty was forgotten. 
 
 George III, to whose unwise activity the independence of the United States is 
 due, was, with all his deficiencies in statecraft, an honest and patriotic ruler. Sur- 
 rounded by scheming and intriguing politicians, with only here and there a straight- 
 forward leader, it is little wonder that he became irretrievably committed to a policy 
 in which there was, from his point of view, room for honest belief, and which his 
 fawning courtiers were ever ready to extol. A complicated and disproportionate 
 
 system of representation placed undue power 
 in the hands of a few, while the great body of 
 the people was very inadequately represented. 
 These conditions, in times so degenerate, made 
 it impossible for the King to gain his ends ex- 
 cept by barter and intrigue, and we find him 
 often the distracted victim of unfriendly and 
 exacting cliques whose temporary strength 
 forces recognition. 
 
 South Carolina 
 
 
 an* 
 
 TSTtto 
 
Believing fully in his divine right to govern, with every sentiment of hereditary 
 prejudice outraged by the resistance of the colonists, King George, in his policy of 
 subjection, was at least true to his natural instincts, for which we must allow while 
 condemning the vindictive and oppressive measures resulting from it. Strong and 
 unrelenting as was his enmity in war, his right-heartedness is evidenced by the 
 equal sincerity of his friendliness when finally he realized the failure of his cause ; 
 his prayer to this end expressed before Parliament, when, with emotion, he 
 acknowledged England's defeat, that "religion, language, interest and affection 
 might prove a bond of permanent union between the two countries," is a worthy 
 tribute of magnanimity, but it has been tardy of fulfillment, and the century 
 now closing has, from the beginning, witnessed strife, and jealousy, and unworthy 
 suspicion. 
 
 Recent events, however, have clearly revealed the underlying kinship and natural 
 sympathy of the two nations, and notwithstanding the contention which must result 
 from the conscientious discharge of duty by representatives of these governments, 
 a warmer friendship is assured, which it is hoped will ultimately realize the contrite 
 benediction of King George III. 
 
 G e o r g i a 
 
ON THE FOLLOWING PAGES A FEW OF THE SMALLER 
 PIECES OF THE GEORGIAN PATTERN ARE REPRESENTED. 
 IT IS MADE IN STERLING SILVER ONLY .(925-1000 FINE) 
 AND INCLUDES EVERY ARTICLE OF TABLE FLAT WARE. 
 A CATALOGUE FULLY ILLUSTRATING THIS LINE 
 MAY BE HAD FROM LEADING JEWELERS, OR WILL 
 BE MAILED TO ANY ADDRESS ON REQUEST. 
 
 IN adopting the Georgian Style as a motive for this 
 design, we recognize the wide and still growing appre- 
 ciation of every manifestation of colonial architecture. 
 While this style is more nearly indigenous than any other 
 that the changing tastes of recent years have approved, its 
 precedent being identified with so much that is vital in the 
 early history of our country, and its characteristics so 
 amenable to existing conditions, we must remember that 
 plans and fittings were first brought from England, where, 
 early in the reign of George III, the reproduction of 
 classical designs became fashionable. 
 
 Inigo Jones and Sir Christopher Wren had long before 
 revived and adapted the teachings of Palladio and other 
 Italian masters, and their influence prepared the way for 
 popular acceptance of the promulgations of James Stewart, 
 who returned, in 1762, from extended residence and study 
 in Greece. The first fruits of the application of a style 
 developed by the needs of public and religious life in a mild 
 climate, to the domestic requirements of England, were 
 absurd in the extreme; but a growing recognition of its 
 limitations evolved the charming if not pure style with 
 which we are familiar. 
 
 In the search for novelty its merits were for many years 
 overlooked ; but gradually the beauty of the old work has 
 become apparent, and there is every reason to believe that 
 the favor in which this style is now established will be 
 lasting. 
 
 of 
 
 OF THK 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 ^ 
 
Dessert 
 
Chow Chow -. 
 
 Bouillon 
 
Horse Radish 
 
 Preserve 
 
Sugar 
 
 Jelly 
 
Butter Spreader 
 
 Butter Knife 
 
 Butter Pick 
 
 Hollow Handle Butter 
 Spreader 
 
Individual Fish 
 
 Hollow Handle Dessert 
 
Pastry 
 
 Sardine Fork 
 
f 
 
 Oyster 
 
 Beef 
 
Cream Ladle 
 
Chow Chow 
 
 Orange 
 
Confection Spoon 
 
Sugar Sifter 
 
* A COPY OF THE 
 
 Colonial iiootu 
 
 FIRST SERIES, IN 
 WHICH ARE PICTURED 
 AND DESCRIBED MANY 
 HISTORIC PLACES IN 
 NEWBURYPORT AND 
 NEIGHBORING CITIES, 
 WILL BE SENT, ON 
 REQUEST, BY THE 
 TOWLE MFG. COM- 
 PANY, SILVERSMITHS, 
 NEWBURYPORT, MASS., 
 AND CHICAGO, ILL. 
 
 
 COMPILED AND ARRANGED BY GEORGE P. TILTON, 
 
 OF THE TOWLE MFG. COMPANY. 
 PRINTED BY CARL H. HEINTZEMANN, BOSTON, MASS. 
 
UNIYER ' 
 
 
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 (J6057slO)476 A-32