le Hudson Valley in the Revolution, lecture (Francis Whiting Halsey LN.Y.,Soc. of Order of the Founders and Patriots of America, Dec. 15th, 1907.] 'Y^LE«¥IMII¥]EI^SIir¥o • .oiBia&ESBr - \<\\o No. 20 YALE UNIVEhm S€P~*r ^BRa, The Hudson Valley in the Revolution A Lecture ky Francis ^Wliiting Halsey . before trie New York Society of tne Order or tne Founders and Patriots of America, December 13tt, 1907. This book was digitized by Microsoft Corporation in cooperation with Yale University Library, 2008. You may not reproduce this digitized copy of the book for any purpose other than for scholarship, research, educational, or, in limited quantity, personal use. You may not distribute or provide access to this digitized copy (or modified or partial versions of it) for commercial purposes. No. 20 Tne Hudson V alley in the Revolution A Lecture by Francis Whiting Halsey before tne New York Society of tbe Order of tbe Founders and Patriots of America, December 13tb, 1907. Officers of tbe New York Society Order of tbe Founders and Patriots of America Governor EDWARD HAGAMAN HALL, Tribune Building, New York. Deputy Governor GEORGE CLINTON BATCHELLER, 696 Broadway, New York. Chaplain REV. FREDERICK W. CUTLER, Yonkers, N. Y. Secretary WILLIAM WHITE KNAPP, 289 Fourth Avenue, New York. Treasurer MATTHEW HINMAN, 416 Broadway, New York. State Attorney EDGAR ABEL TURRELL, 76 William Street, New York. Registrar THEODORE GILMAN, SS William Street, New York. Genealogist JOHN ELDERKIN, Lotus Club, New York. Historian CLARENCE ETTIENNE LEONARD, 44 East 23rd Street, New York. Councilors 1905- 1908 COL. RALPH EARL PRIME, Yonkers, N. Y. WILLIAM ALLEN MARBLE, New York. CHARLES W. B. WILKINSON, New York. 1906-1909 MAJOR-GEN. FREDERICK D. GRANT, New York. HENRY WICKES GOODRICH, New York. RICHARD H. ROBERTS, New York. 1907-1910 GEN. STEWART L WOODFORD, New York. THEODORE FITCH, New York. COL. HENRY W. SACKETT, New York. Clio, G7/0 k'jpp) Tne Hudson Valley in tne Revolution The American Revolution is a very large subject. Across those eight years of conflict passes a panorama which I will not ask you to contemplate in a single lecture. Let us con sider one aspect only of it ; but that is the central and critical ground of the whole momentous struggle — the struggle here in the middle colonies for control of the navigation of the Hudson River. Around that contest revolve the battlefields of Long Island and Harlem Heights, Princeton and Trenton, the Brandywine and Germantown, Monmouth and Stony Point, Oriskany and Saratoga, and last of all, though by no means least, in the tremendous issues involved, the treason of Benedict Arnold. The Revolution had its first battlefields near Boston. Its closing strife took place far to the South, and there at York- town the war ended when Cornwallis gave up his sword. But these battlefields in the Middle States, this struggle for the Hudson Valley, formed the central, most vital, ground of this conflict. We may not have heard too much of Concord and Lexington, of Bunker Hill and the Boston Tea Party — as Americans we can never tire of those inspiring themes — but we have heard far too little of what was done in New York, Pennsylvania and New Jersey during that war for the rights of man. All the more honor belongs to these states because here had been flourishing centres of life completely dominated by Eng lish influence. This city had long been the centre of a small court modeled after the court of London. Society and public life thus derived their tone from a royal example. Men and women in New York and Philadelphia conformed in dress to London fashions. Their clothes were imported. Gorgeous coats with lace and gold, brilliant waistcoats of silk, breeches 4 The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. of satin, and silver shoe buckles abounded in festive gather ings. Women dressed as we see them dress in Sheridan's plays— in " The Rivals " or " The School for Scandal." Re splendent were their costumes. No fine lady was completely attired unless she had plumes in her hair and paint, powder and beauty spots on her face. The aristocracy of New York, then as now, was the richest in America. These London fash ions prevailed not only in this city and Philadelphia, but along the Hudson River and far up the Mohawk, on the very borders of civilized life. On occasions of ceremony with the Indians, Sir William Johnson gave equal delight to the savage eye, whether he appeared in the costume of the Indian or in a London coat with its lace and gold. And here I must tell a story — not strictly true as applied to Johnson, it having been told of other white men also, — but true in other ways as an illustration of the facility with which white men often secured from the Indians vast tracts of fertile land. Two radiant London coats arrived at Johnson's home, where the old Mohawk chief, King Hendrick, beheld them with staring eyes. One day he said to Sir William " I dream." " And what does the King dream ? " "I dream," said Hen drick, " you gif me one them coats." " Ah," said Johnson, " you would look fine in such a coat. Please take one." Some weeks later, when the old King again came to Johnson Hall, Sir William casually remarked, " Oh, King Hendrick, I have had a lovely dream." " And what did brother dream ? " asked the king. " I dreamed," said Sir William, " that all this land lying down on the river here, two miles wide and five miles long, you gave to me." " Ah," said the king, " you gif me one of them fine coats, now I gif you all this land. Well, take the land, brother, but please don't dream any more." Wherever an official was found in Pennsylvania and New York he was almost certain to be a Tory. If not a Tory he was a neutral man. He was never a patriot. Well might it be believed in London that the Middle colonies, and especially New York, could be held fast for the King's cause — that with this Island and the Hudson valley controlled by an English army, revolted New England and the patriotic South, to which The Hudson V alley in the Revolution. 5 Patrick Henry had given a voice, could be divided from each other, and in their isolation destroyed. But George III knew not what stuff existed in these colonies. Beneath the outward signs of official life were the great masses who were thor oughly patriotic — men who earned livelihoods not by holding office, but through enterprise, industry and laborious toil — the true Americans of that time, the Philip Schuylers of New York, and the Benjamin Franklins of Pennsylvania. Ten years before Pitcairn fired the first shot at Lexington, patriots in these middle colonies had defied the tyrant across the sea. When the Stamp Act paper reached New York they boldly seized it and locked it up in the old City Hall, where now stands the sub-Treasury building. Throughout the city was scattered in derision mock paper in which a death's head took the place of the royal arms. Cadwallader Colden, the acting governor, threatened to fire on the people, but was told that if he did so, he would be beautifully hanged. One night a crowd broke into Colden's carriage house and, after placing images of Colden and Satan on the back seat of a gorgeous state vehicle, they hauled the carriage with its con tents to Bowling Green, where then stood the Battery, close to the water's edge. Under the very eyes of Colden and the British garrison they sent this vehicle and its two images up in smoke. General Gage, commanding the British garrison, gazed on this scene with Colden in sullen silence, daring not to lift his hand while these patriots of New York thus set at defiance an act of the British Parliament. When a Stamp Act congress was called together, all the colonies did not respond, but Pennsylvania, New Jersey and New York were among those that did ; and here in New York that congress met, in that old City Hall, from the. site of which now rises the statue of George Washington. Neither the gar rison of General Gage nor the ships of war anchored in the harbor dared to take a step to disturb the proceedings of this memorable gathering. New York state eleven years before this had been the place where had met that other congress — the Congress of Albany — in which was unfolded an early plan of federation for the colonies. Here white men in deliberative 6 The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. assembly sought to form a group of united states — on that hill where now rises the imposing edifice reared by the state as its capitol. England had demanded that New York should provide sup plies for General Gage's troops quartered here, but the New York assembly boldly declined to provide them. England then deprived the assembly of its functions. New York's re sponse was the organization of that band of patriots known as the Sons of Liberty. Before blood was shed in Boston these Sons of Liberty had a street fight here in New York with British soldiers, the memory of which has come down to us all too vaguely ; and yet in this battle of Golden Hill, fought in John street, was shed the first blood of the revolution. Al though fought in John street, the incident leading to the battle had occurred elsewhere, — on the site of the Post Office, where had been set up a liberty pole. By repeatedly cutting down this emblem, the British had fanned the discontent of the peo ple into white heat, and the Golden Hill battle was the result. In commemoration of this event, a tablet a few years ago was placed upon one of the inner walls of the Post Office building. We cannot understand these events in New York, prelim inary to actual war begun near Boston, unless we turn now to public life in England at this time. Our quarrel with the Mother country was the same quarrel in which the opposition party over there was engaged with Parliament. Parliament did not truly represent the English people. Great towns went wholly unrepresented. Parliament was a packed body and the king controlled it. Popular government there was none. And thus when we recall the sympathy given to our cause by Burke, Fox and Chatham, we must remember how well they understood that we were fighting their battles as well as our own. They knew that should England grant the American demand, the same principle would have to be applied to great disfranchised English towns like Birmingham and Leeds. Well might Chatham declare in the House of Lords : " Were I an American as I am an Englishman, I never would lay down my arms ; never, never, never ! " And here we are to remember how much mbre true it is The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. 7 that George Washington fought not only the battles of Amer ica, but the battles of the English people. Not of one land simply was he the hero, nor in one world alone did he become a founder of free, states ; but in two lands and two worlds. On the banks of the Potomac we have raised to his memory the tallest shaft in all our territory. Well might a monument equally imposing be set up in everlasting honor of him on the banks of the river Thames in London. Early in this strife events occurred which were to make Boston for a time the centre of war. Near Boston actual war began, and the cause of this was the tea tax. The crisis finally came in December 1773. Boston threw the odious tea into the harbor. Plaudits for the act resounded from every quarter. Now indeed, had the gauntlet been definitely thrown down to England. England's response was the sending of General Gage, the commander of her forces in America, to Boston as governor of Massachusetts. Regiments of soldiers followed him, and in June he was directed to close the port. Finally, in April 1775, on a village green at Lexington and at a bridge in Concord, the red coats of England and the embattled farmers of New England met in conflict, and then was fired the famous " shot heard round the world." The wiser minds among Americans understood that this fight was not a revolt, but a revolution, and that not Boston, but the Hudson River valley, must be its central ground of action, just as that valley had been the centre in the old war with France. Between French Canada and the English colo nies, the Hudson valley from the first settlement had been the great highway of trade and travel. In war it was the key by which control of territory alone was to be held. But to the English mind at the outset, nothing but a revolt had occurred, and British soldiers, it was believed, would soon suppress that. The influential portion of the population was thought to be overwhelmingly loyal, while the discontented element would soon yield to force. Strange was this infatuation, and strang est of all is it that England fondly harbored the notion as late as the Burgoyne campaign. First among Americans to see the importance of the Hudson 8 The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. valley was a man whose name will often be heard in this lec ture — a name which until six years afterwards was repeatedly covered with martial glory ; one of the bravest of the brave ; the trusted friend of Washington; but a name remembered now almost wholly for an act of infamy — Benedict Arnold. Eight days after the fight at Lexington, Arnold proposed sending an army to the upper Hudson for the capture of Ti conderoga and Crown Point, and in May went out himself as its leader. Ethan Allen with his Green Mountain boys joined him on the way and together they pressed on to demand surrender " in the name of the Great Jehovah and the Con tinental Congress." Crown Point was next taken and then St. John. The scene shifts now to Boston again, where on a day in June raw recruits met the trained soldiers of England on the heights where Warren fell, and if they did not win this fight, they made it so much a drawn battle that the moral effect at home and in England, alike, of Bunker Hill was very great. A few weeks later came another scene near Boston of much pith and moment in this story. Beneath an elm tree that still stands there, command of the American army was formally assumed by George Washington. And now, in September another army set out for the upper Hudson Valley, and Benedict Arnold with a small force trav ersed the forests of New England, bound also for Canada, meeting on arrival General Montgomery, who had already forced his way from New York territory to Montreal. The two men pressed on to Quebec, on whose heights sixteen years before Wolfe had gained a renown that can never die, — " the happy warrior's death," death in victory. Here, in scaling these heights, Arnold was wounded, and Montgomery killed — that soldier of New York who died all too soon for his country, who lies buried under the portico of St. Paul's church, with the roar of Broadway above him chanting his eternal requiem. Washington that winter laid siege to Boston, and in the spring General Howe, who had taken the place of Gage, evacu ated the city and made his way to New York, — a small and The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. 9 third-rate town at that time, scarcely giving promise of the skyline we now have with the skyscrapers. The English at last began to understand the importance of the Hudson Valley. Henceforth, for many years action was to be confined to campaigns for its control — campaigns in which were fought these battles in the Middle States. The battles near Boston had been only preliminary events in a greater war. This rebellion was now no longer local. A continent was in revolt, — not one colony but thirteen. The new world from Maine to Georgia had taken up arms, and instead of " embattled farmers " the British thenceforth were to meet enlisted soldiers, and at their head George Washington. Here in New York the British well might hope for success. The Tory party was in control. New York commanded the Lower Hudson Valley. Its military position was unsurpassed. It was a town easily taken and easily held by an enemy pos sessed, as the British were, of ships of war. The Americans had no ships of war. Our navy was yet to be born. Not only did New York lay open to the British, but the whole Hudson Valley seemed easily theirs. It was the plan that Howe should come on and capture this island while Carleton was to descend from Canada by Lake Champlain. New England was thus to be cut off from the south and west, and the middle colonies from necessity would lay down their arms and the rebellion be ended. Howe came through the Narrows and landed on Staten Island. Washing ton well understood that to hold the city was impossible, but wisdom demanded that it be not given up without a struggle. If the British wanted it they must fight for it. To the north lay an open and friendly country, and Washington knew how to conduct a successful retreat — he understood nothing better — and he knew also the virtue of patience — a quality without which he never could have won his great success as a com mander. As his first defensive step in New York, he took possession of Brooklyn Heights, which commanded Manhattan Island, and there waited the movements of Howe. Howe crossed to Gravesend and then followed the Battle of Long Island — a dis- io The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. astrous defeat in the field for the Americans, who retired to their fort on the Heights and were saved from complete dis aster only by the masterly skill of Washington. Under cover of the night and a morning fog, he gathered along the shore every ship and boat in the East River and before the sun rose his entire army was safely ferried across from the site of the Bridge to the New York shore. When the surprised British entered the fort that morning, they found left there not so much as a biscuit or a flask of rum. We have now reached that memorable summer of 1776, when on the 4th of July in Philadelphia the Declaration of In dependence was signed — an event duly marked from the tower of Independence Hall when the old bell rang out the glad tid ings. News of the signing came speedily to New York, and here, on the site of the present City Hall, with the army as sembled, Jefferson's immortal document was publically read. A bronze tablet under a window of the Mayor's office now commemorates this event. The joyous crowd with tumultuous enthusiasm then rushed down to Bowling Green, where they hauled from its pedestal the leaden statue of George III, afterwards cast into bullets to pelt British soldiers with. Near the spot where the Declara tion had been read stands now a cherished monument. In that year a young patriot soldier, newly graduated from Yale Col lege, had died in upper Third avenue at the hands of a British hangman, regretting to his dying words that he had only one life to lose for his country — Nathan Hale. The next step in the defense of New York was the Battle of Harlem Heights. Washington took up his headquarters at the Morris, or Jumel House. Howe crossed at 34th Street. Put nam meanwhile had remained at the Battery with a large force, and his escape from capture by Howe was due to a woman — Mrs. Murray of Murray Hill, mother of the grammarian, she entertaining Howe and his officers at luncheon and thus giv ing Putnam time to march safely north to join Washington. Whether this act was due to patriotism or to simple hospitality, is a debated point, but Mrs. Murray's sympathies seem to have been Tory rather than American. The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. ii This battle of Harlem Heights was fought on the slope rising from Manhattanville to Columbia University. There were three actions — the chief and final one occurring in a buckwheat field lying just west of the college buildings. Here victory was won. Great was the enthusiasm aroused by Washington's suc cess. He had gained his first victory in the field, and British regulars had fought against his untrained soldiers. In this battle fell a brave and patriotic man, — one of the heroes of Bunker Hill, a man deeply mourned by his commander and the site of whose grave along St. Nicholas Avenue is still unmarked and unknown, — Col. Knowlton. Later in the season came dis aster. Fort Washington, of which a few remains are seen to this day on the slope among the trees, was forced to surrender and 3,000 men fell into British hands — a disaster due to the meddling of Congress, and which would have been averted had the wishes of Washington been carried out. All that summer of 1776 Benedict Arnold had been busy on the shores of Lake Champlain, building an American fleet of war boats — the first navy of the United States. It was no match for Carleton's fleet, nor was Arnold's army a match for Carleton's 12,000 men, but the brave Arnold engaged him in battle, — a desperate naval fight this was, in waters where thirty-eight years afterwards another British fleet was to be de stroyed by MacDonough. Arnold escaped with part of his flo tilla intact, and conveyed nearly all his men to Ticonderoga, with Carleton so discouraged that he retired for the winter to Montreal. Praises of Arnold resounded from all over the country. He had added new laurels to those so bravely won at Quebec, and so strong was he at Ticonderoga that he spared 3,000 men to aid Washington who was now about to enter upon his campaign in New Jersey. Having sent a garrison to defend West Point, Washington crossed the Jerseys and then the Delaware, capturing every boat on the river in order to make it impossible for the British to reach him. When Howe arrived at Trenton, finding no boats available, he decided to leave his army there until the river should freeze over and the men could cross on the solid ice. With Cornwallis, he returned to New York and so con- 12 The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. fident that his army would be able to destroy the Americans at its first opportunity, that Cornwallis packed his trunks and prepared to sail for home. But events delayed that homeward voyage of Cornwallis. Ice came in the Delaware, but it was not smooth, solid ice on which the British could cross. It was floating ice and Wash ington, seeing the helpless state of the British and having all the boats, made his famous crossing, losing not a man nor a gun in doing so. At Trenton he surprised the British and a thousand Hessian soldiers fell into his hands. Cornwallis gave up his trip to England and started for Tren ton with 8,000 reinforcements, remarking on arrival : " Now we have run down the old fox; in the morning we will bag him." But Cornwallis was again to be disappointed — and not for the last time, as the, event at Yorktown several years later was to show. Under cover of the night, and keeping his camp fires still burning to deceive Cornwallis, Washington moved his main army on to Princeton, where lay a part of the British force, and the next morning by a surprise completely routed these men. He then retired to his " lair " — which was Morris town, leaving the surprised Cornwallis to spend the winter studying out a new scheme for bagging old foxes. Thus ended a campaign lasting three weeks, in which two successful battles had been fought, 2,000 prisoners taken, and New Jersey recovered. The eyes of Europe centered on Washington. Frederick the Great, old and infirm, after a life of campaign and victories, said he had entered the rank of great commanders. Here had ended the first attack on the central ground of the Revolution. Howe could boast of nothing more than that he still held New York Island, while Carleton maintained his position along Lake Champlain. But Ticonderoga and the whole Hudson River remained in the hands of the Americans. A second contest for capture of this key now ensued, and the most desperate of all. It was ' destined, however, like the other, to an inglorious end for the British. It was more than a defeat. It ended in the surrender of Burgoyne. A vast military enterprise was formed, elaborate and various The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. 13 in design, and it really invited the dismal failure that over whelmed it. From this island one part of the British force was to go north. From Montreal another under Burgoyne was to go south. From Oswego a third by way of the Mo hawk Valley was to go east. Uniting at Albany the three forces were expected to secure the much coveted valley. But success came not to any one of them. Howe, instead of going north, sailed away for the Chesapeake. Orders for Howe to go north had been drawn up in London, and were ready for mailing; they lacked only the signature of Lord George Germaine. But Lord George went off into the coun try, forgetting to sign them, and when again he thought of them, it was too late, for Burgoyne had surrendered. Saint Leger, once he had reached the Mohawk Valley, found himself confronted first, with a siege, the siege of Fort Schuy ler, which stood on the site of Rome, Oneida County, and then with a battle. St. Leger's foes, like the men at Concord, might well have been called " embattled farmers." They were the frontiersmen of the Mohawk Valley. That battle of Oris- kany has been called the decisive battle of the Revolution, and a stately monument worthily commemorates it. Combined with John Stark's glorious victory at Bennington, fought on what is now New York soil, it seriously crippled Burgoyne and made inevitable his surrender. Burgoyne descended from Montreal as if on parade. Never did army set out with greater confidence in success. He soon captured Ticonderoga, and when George III heard of this suc cess, he rushed joyously into the apartments of his Queen, ex claiming, " I have beaten them — I have beaten all the Ameri cans." But other news was soon to follow. After Burgoyne reached Fort Edward, there came the awful disaster to his arms at Bennington, followed by the effective check at Oris- kany. At Oriskany Arnold appeared once more on the scene, and to his fullest honor. General Schuyler, encamped on the upper Hudson, had asked which of his Brigadiers would go out against St. Leger, but his answer was silence until Arnold spoke out : " Washington sent me here to be useful. I will 14 The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. go." When Arnold reached the battle ground on the New York frontier, panic ensued among the enemy. St. Leger fled and his army of Indians, regulars and Tories rapidly dispersed. Fort Schuyler was then taken and on its ramparts was raised the newly adopted stars and stripes, — a flag rudely con structed out of blue from a soldier's jacket, white from an old shirt, and red from the petticoat of a soldier's wife. This was the first unfurling of the stars and stripes in the face of an enemy of which we have record. The flag had been only re cently adopted in Philadelphia, where the first copy had been made by Betsy Ross. We will now take our thoughts to other events in this drama of the Hudson River. Howe, by way of the Chesapeake, had moved on Philadelphia, then called "the rebel capital." A letter from London had reached him there, showing that he was expected to cooperate with Burgoyne. But this was now an impossible thing to do, for here in front of him lay the army of Washington, and the distance to Burgoyne was 300 miles. Washington's sole purpose therefore was to hold Howe in Pennsylvania — hold him at any price. In fulfilling this pur pose he fought two battles — the Brandywine and Germantown, both of which were defeats, the latter being fought around that historic Chew house, which still remains to attest the shots it received. But Washington had success in another sense. He kept Howe from joining Burgoyne. Burgoyne saw defeat gathering around him, and yet could not retreat, for he believed Howe was on his way up the river. Meanwhile, the American army had been constantly gaining recruits until it outnumbered Burgoyne three to one. As a last desperate effort, Burgoyne attempted to break through the American lines. The result was the two battles known col lectively as the Battle of Saratoga. Here again Benedict Ar nold won military glory. By a brilliant dash he swept down upon the British and cleared the field. Then followed the sur render, and yet in that monument commemorating this great event, the statue of Arnold is absent. Only a vacant niche is seen there — pathetic witness alike of Arnold's glory and his The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. is shame. Arnold was wounded at Saratoga and saved the life of the man who had wounded him — a magnanimous deed which a monument erected elsewhere on that field properly commemorates. Meanwhile Clinton had been advancing from New York with British reinforcements, doing what Howe ought to have done. He overcame Putnam at Peekskill, passed the High lands and virtually gained control of the entire river from New York to Albany. But all this was too late, for Burgoyne hav ing surrendered, Clinton's success came as naught. The tide at last had turned, and big with meaning was the overthrow of Burgoyne. Not only had England lost an army, but America had gained the confidence of Europe, and the practical assistance of a great power. From this event we must reckon the loan we got from France, the soldiers she sent us, and greatest of them all, Lafayette. France had found that an American alliance was well worth having. She had just lost to England an empire in the east. She still hoped to re cover it, and hence was glad to aid this new and rising power in the west in its conflict with her own enemy. Still more was due to that victory — what has been called the " somersault " of Lord North's parliament, by which Eng land offered to grant the repeal of the Tea tax and to renounce forever the right to raise revenue in America. George III was too late with his repentance. He was like a man John B. Gough used to tell about — a man with three hands — a right hand, a left hand and a little behind hand. The winter which followed Burgoyne's surrender was the winter of Valley Forge, that winter of suffering, cold and gloom. The British still remained in possession of Philadel phia and it was Washington's task to keep them there. Hence this winter at Valley Forge. Howe's failure to reach Burgoyne had been widely con demned in England and he resigned to go home and defend himself. Clinton took his place, and a great and curious party called the " Mischianza " — a sort of mediaeval tournament, took place as a farewell to Howe. Oh that festive scene ap peared two characters, afterwards famous in our story — John 16 The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. Andre, who took a leading part in the management, and the belle of Philadelphia, Miss Margaret Shippen, soon to become the wife of Benedict Arnold. With the return of spring, Clinton found Philadelphia would be hard to hold. Its defense was difficult and supplies were uncertain and so he decided to return to New York. New work for Washington was therefore at hand. Placing Arnold in command of Philadelphia, he followed Clinton, and thus came about the Battle of Monmouth — that battle in which Molly Pitcher, when her husband was shot, raised herself to a heroine's place by taking his post at the gun. Clinton lost many men in this battle and 2,000 Hessians de serted him, but he finally made his way to New York, which was the only spot in all the north the British now held. With all speed, Washington advanced to the Highlands, and here he was to remain until the very last scene of the war, three years later, — his headquarters at Newburgh. Vigorous war hence forth was to take place in the south. No longer had England any hope of conquering the north. George III merely aimed to save what he could elsewhere. But the Hudson Valley and the Mohawk saw not a few picturesque incidents in these later years. The Hudson saw that brilliant exploit of Anthony Wayne at Stony Point — " mad Anthony Wayne," who was mad only in courage and patriotic zeal, otherwise the sanest and bravest of men. An other success was the assault at Paulus Hook, now Jersey City, where, with the loss of two men killed and three wounded, 300 British were taken and 160 pieces of artillery. Here the hero was a famous son of that Lowland Beauty of Virginia, who, years before, had inspired in Washington an early and un requited love — Light Horse Harry Lee. The fame of Lee as man and soldier was widely familiar in our annals ere it was eclipsed in recent times by that of his more brilliant son, Robert E. Lee. This Lowland Beauty, as an early sweetheart of Washington, preceded the New York sweetheart, Mary Philipse, and was long antecedent to the incomparable Martha Custis. A new kind of warfare had now arisen in New York and The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. 17 entered Pennsylvania — a warfare of arson, massacre and am bush fighting, such as Indians were masters of, and the guiding spirit of which, under direction of the English, was Joseph Brant. These border wars, conflicts between frontiersmen and Indians, laid desolate the territory then called Tryon County, which comprised a vast region along the Mohawk and upper Susquehanna. From the battle of Oriskany in 1777 until peace settled over the land, this was a region of terror. It finally became a land of complete desolation. Twelve thousand farms ceased to be cultivated. Two-thirds of the population died or fled, and among those who remained were 300 widows and 2,000 orphans. It is a record of battles in the open, battles in ambush, massacre and child murder. Among its incidents were the massacres of Wyoming, and Cherry Valley — hor rible scenes of which the details are more shocking than any other tales one could tell of the Revolution. Brant was a bet ter man than he has been painted. Tories urged him on and went with him. He truly said they were more savage than many savages. Brant was a civilized Indian, humane and mer ciful. A descendant of his living to-day in Canada is an es timable and honored citizen. No man who writes or talks of one event in the Revolution for which the Hudson supplied the scene, can approach the subject without pain and a tendency to shudder. The war had only a year to last when all the fruits of it came near being lost in an act of treason. By gaining a name for consummate infamy, Benedict Arnold lost a name that would have been held in lustrous honor. Except for his conduct at West Point, he would have ranked in revolutionary annals next after Wash ington and Greene. He would have died one of our national heroes. Statues in marble and bronze would rise to his mem ory. Instead of these things a traveller on the Hudson River by the day boat is shown " Treason Hill," the place where Arnold plotted with Andre for the surrender of West Point, which was commanded by him. It is matter for much marvel that so ignoble an act — an act which in its success would have com pletely undone all that Arnold had fought six years to gain — 18 The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. was possible to so brave and patriotic a soldier. We may at tempt to explain his course, but no explanation would enable us to understand it clearly. If there was no excuse for it, there were causes. Arnold had long been discontented, and had thought of leaving the service to take up land in the Western wilderness, or to offer his service to England. The pity of it all is that he followed neither impulse. He was justly angry that Congress had failed to advance him along with others less deserving than himself. He had been publicly accused of defects in his ac counts. He had ruined himself and fortune by extravagant living in that Philadelphia home to which he took his bride. Finally he lost all sense of public duty, that he might have re venge — an awful kind of revenge he chose which meant treason for the cause he had served so long and so well. Apologists have said that Arnold regarded the American cause as hope less, and honestly attempted to act a great and humane part by ending the war without further bloodshed. But all this is as sumption and special pleading. His conduct was deliberate treason, and the blackest sort. Opposite West Point, until lately, stood the Robinson House where Arnold learned at his breakfast table that his treason had been discovered. Further down the river, in a town for ever associated with the life of Irving, stands the monument erected to the men who captured Andre — the spot where they found in his boot the fatal papers Arnold induced him to deposit there, and which thus became the proof of his guilt. Arnold was a man of impulses, generous and improvident, daring and adventurous — one of those mercurial natures which in great crises often seem endowed with the highest kind of manhood. Adversity combined with temptation and false am bition more often give us the true measure of natures like his. Fatal weakness then is shown. Arnold had all the personal bravery of Washington and Greene, of Putnam and Wayne. What he lacked in woeful degree was the supreme endowment of the friend he wronged — that final test of all excellence, char acter. Pathetic stories of his later career abound. During the last The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. 19 year of the war while serving in the British army, he one day asked an American prisoner what his own fate might be should the Americans capture him. " That leg of yours," said the soldier, " which was wounded at Quebec and Saratoga, they would bury with all the honors of war, but the rest of you they would hang on a gibbet." Talleyrand, afterwards the great war minister of Napoleon, while on his way to America, during the French Revolution, accidentally met Arnold in England. He was charmed by his friendly manner, and not knowing his American history, ven tured to ask for letters of introduction in this country. " Un happily," said Arnold, " I am the only American in England who could not possibly introduce you in his own country." We may contemplate with real pleasure one of the last scenes in Arnold's life. He always kept his American uniform, and when seriously ill, and about to die, he one day put it on, with the epaulets and sword knots which Washington gave him after his brave conduct at the Battle of Saratoga. " Let me die in this," said he, " the uniform in which I fought my battles. May God forgive me for ever putting on any other." The war was nearing its end, but success for Arnold's trea son would have put the end far longer off. Control of the Hudson must, then have passed to British hands and no man can say how then this conflict could have been won. On the banks of this river, one other scene remains to be chronicled, that meeting in the Livingston House at Dobbs Ferry, where Washington and the French General, Rocham beau, planned a new and secret campaign in the south. Cross ing the river with his army, Washington made his way inland, and thence southward through New Jersey. Clinton supposed he was about to attack New York from Staten Island, and Washington's own men thought the same. But further south he went — on to Philadelphia, on to the head of the Chesapeake, and thence to Yorktown, where lay Cornwallis, with water on three sides of him, and land on the fourth. As Washington suddenly arrived, the surprised Cornwallis wisely gave up his sword. It was Washington now who had bagged the fox. 20 The Hudson Valley in the Revolution. Back to New York came Washington — to the town he had left seven years before, and unspeakable was the joy of the lib erated people. Here finally he said farewell to his officers, in that building still standing in Broad Street, Fraunce's Tavern. And here in New York, where the first blood of the Revolution had been shed in that Battle of Golden Hill, nearly fourteen years before, the last redcoat now sailed away — sailed from the Battery on that late November day we still celebrate as Evacu ation Day. Several years ago Lord Coleridge, Chief Justice of England, came to this country, and with Secretary Evarts, went to Mount Vernon. Standing on the hill, and looking across the river, Coleridge said : " Is it true that Washington was so strong a man physically that he once took a silver dollar and threw it across the Potomac ? " " Yes," said Evarts, with a twinkle in his eye, " but he did more than that. He once took an English sovereign and threw him across the Atlantic." The war was over. On our soil no longer dwelt the enemy. A nation had been born. New York had held fast to her al legiance — patriotic, imperial New York. And thus was begun that new and grander empire, of which New York now forms so glorious a part, — that empire of stable democracy, stretch ing from the stormy sea that divides our land from Europe to the placid waters that lave our western shores, from the great unsalted seas of the north to the tropic gulf. Out of this war and out of the town meeting, and the little red school-house, has been raised up the happiest condition of man, the earth anywhere has known, and over this empire, as you all believe and I believe, for millions of freemen, shall forever wave this " Flag of the free heart's hope and home By angel's hands to valor given." Publications of tbe New York Society ' The Settlement oe New York," by George Rogers Howell, March 18, 1897. ' The Battle of Lexington," by Hon. John Winslow, May 13, 1897. ' George Clinton," by Col. R. E Prime, December 15, 1902. 'Washington, Lincoln and Grant," by Gen James Grant Wilson, April 6, 1903. ' Early New York," by Hon. Robert B. Roosevelt, January 15, 1904. ' Thomas Hooker, The First American Democrat," by Walter Seth Logan, February 19, 1904. 'Early Long Island," by Hon. Wm. Winton Goodrich, March 16, 1904. ' Banquet Addresses," May 13, 1904. 'The Philippines and The Filipinos," by Maj. Gen. Fred'k D. Grant, December 10, 1904. Some Social Theories of the Revolution," by Theodore Gilman, January 31, 1905. ' Banquet Addresses," May 13, 1905. ' The Story of the Pequot War," by Thos. Egleston, LL. D., Ph. D., December 15, 1905. ' Distinctive Traits of a Dutchman," by Col. John W. Vrooman, February 23, 1906. ' An Incident of the Alabama Claims Arbitration," by Col. Ralph E. Prime, March 23, 1906. ' Banquet Addresses and Memoir of Hon. Robt. B. Roosevelt," May 14, 1906. ' Constitution, By-Laws and Regulations of the Order, and List of Members of the General Court, with By-Laws and List of Members of the New York Society," November 1, 1906. ' Some Municipal Problems that Vexed the Founders," by Rev. Wm. Reed Eastman, December 14, 1906. 'A Vanished Race of Aboriginal Founders," by Brig. Genl. Henry Stuart Turrill, U. S. A., February 14, 1907. ' List of Officers and Members of the New York Society," Novem ber 15, 1907. 'The Hudson Valley in the Revolution," by Francis Whiting Halsey, December 13, 1907. ' American Territory in Turkey ; or, Admiral Farragut's Visit to Constantinople and the Extra-territoriality of Robert Col lege," by Ralph E. Prime, LL. D., D. C. L., February 14, 1908.