|" "J give theft B The course of the British fleet, which had caused so much perplexing specula tion, had been directed, not according to any wily schemes of General Howe, but by the caprice of the weather, and the force of circumstances beyond his control. 67 The army had embarked on the 5th of July, but was detained by a head-wind at Sandy Hook until the 23d, and after sail ing did not make the capes of Delaware until the 30th. It was Howe's intention to have sailed up the Delaware to Phila delphia, but, receiving intelligence that the Americans had raised prodigious im pediments on that river, he changed his mind and stood for the mouth of the Elk, which opens into Chesapeake bay. He was now so baffled by the prevalent south erly winds of the season, that he did not succeed in entering the Chesapeake until this late period (the 2 1st of August). His troops, both cavalry and infantry, crowded into the holds of the transports, during the hottest season of the year, and unpro vided with the necessaries and comforts for a long voyage, suffered greatly. The soldiers were weakened by the protracted confinement on shipboard, and the horses became nearly useless. Washington now changed the direction of his march, and determined to proceed from Germantown, where he was then en camped, in a southerly direction along the western bank of the Delaware, in or der to meet and oppose the approach of 14 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. the enemy. He also sent for General Sul livan, who was at that time on the North river, to join him with his division. With the view of exerting " some influence on the minds of the disaffected there, and those who are dupes to their artifices and opinions," Washington marched his army through Philadelphia. The whole force amounted to nearly nine thousand men, and that their march through the city produced the impression desired may be inferred from the account given by Graydon, who from " the coffee house corner" beheld them as they passed. "These," he says, "though indifferently dressed, held well -burnished arms, and carried them like soldiers, and looked, in short, as if they might have faced an equal number with a reasonable prospect of suc cess." Passing on through Philadelphia without halting, the army continued its march through- Derby and Chester, to Wilmington. Sir William Howe, in the meantime, had landed on the banks of the Elk river, , at the head of Chesapeake bay, Aug. 25. F J' and moved his troops to within two miles of the town of Elk (Elkton), in Maryland, where he encamped them up on the hills. Howe had lost so many horses during his long voyage, that he was unable to send out those mounted parties by which he had hoped to scour the country, and secure supplies. The Americans were thus enabled to frustrate him; and, being now provided with an excellent cavalry-force, they succeeded not only in securing a good portion of the public stores deposited at the head of the Elk, but in greatly harassing the British advanced pickets. Young Harry Lee, with his lighthorse, did great ser vice in these skirmishes. Lee was a young Virginian — at this time only twenty years of age. His name sake, General Charles Lee, declared that "he came forth a soldier from his mother's womb." Washington warmly welcomed the youth when he first offered his ser vices, gave him the command of a com pany of lighthorse, and watched ever af ter with fond admiration his spirited ca reer. " Perhaps," says Irving, " there was something beside his bold, dashing spirit, which won him this favor. There may have been early recollections connected with it. Lee was the son of the lady who first touched Washington's heart in his schoolboy days, the one about whom he wrote rhymes atMount Vernon and Green- way Court — his lowland beauty." Lee's gallantry, in fact, was noticed by the en tire army, and his services as a cavalry- officer were so remarkable, that he was popularly known as "Lighthorse Harry." Washington took care to record the deeds of his youthful compatriot : " Ten o'clock. — This minute twenty-four British prison ers arrived, taken yesterday by Captain Lee of the lighthorse," is a postscript to his letter to the president of Congress, dated Wilmington, 30th of August. General Sullivan, in obedience to Wash ington's orders, had joined the army with his division. He came back, however, with some imputations resting upon his con duct in an unsuccessful enterprise against Staten island. It was resolved to appoint a court of inquiry to investigate the mat ter, while in the meantime he was left in revolutionary.] POSITION OF THE HOSTILE ARMIES. 15 full command. Sullivan was frequently exposed to charges of ill conduct ; but, as he always brought forward proof of his courage and the sincerity of his patriot ism, he never failed to reinstate himself, if not in public opinion, at any rate in his rank in the army. Washington's army now amounted to fifteen thousand men, although the effect ive force, from sickness and other causes, was calculated at only eleven thousand. He had determined, however, to give the enemy battle, though the latter were es timated to possess the greatly superior strength of eighteen thousand. There were not wanting those who considered Washington's resolution to fight under the disadvantage of such inferior num bers as imprudent. He believed, never theless, that, with the choice of a good position, he might make an effective re sistance. Moreover, he thought that, to retreat before General Howre, and allow him to march to Philadelphia without op position, would dispirit the country and injure the cause even more than a de feat. Washington was indefatigable in pre paring for the contest. He was constant ly in his saddle, riding about the country, in spite of the heavy rains, to reconnoitre the position of the enemy, and to select proper ground for opposing their advance. It was finally concluded to move from Wilmington to Newport, where the army was posted in a line along the bank of the Red-Clay creek. The British, in the meantime, had advanced within eight miles, and taken their posi tion on Iron hill. Skirmishes ensued be- Sept. 8. tween the advanced pickets of both ar mies, but with little advantage to either side. General Howe now made another for ward movement, with the appa rent intention of attacking the Americans. Washington waited for him the whole day ; but finding that- he had halted at Milltown, within two miles of the American encampment, and it appear ing probable that the enemy only intend ed " to amuse us," says Washington, " in front, while their real intent was to march by our right, and by suddenly passing the Brandywine, and gaining the heights up on the north side of that river, get be tween us and Philadelphia, and cut us off from that city," he judged it expedient to move his position immediately. Washington accordingly retired, and, crossing the Brandywine, posted his army on the heights, near to Chad's ford. The Brandywine, rising by two branches, that unite at what is called the Fork, flows in a small stream from west to east, and empties into the Dela ware, about twenty-five miles south of Philadelphia. The principal ford of the river was Chad's, on the direct road to the north, although there were others above and below. Having crossed the Brandywine, Wash ington posted his centre along the east ern bank, near Chad's ford, where, expect ing the main attack of the enemy, he com manded in person. His right wing, un der General Sullivan, was moved two miles above, on the same side of the riv er ; and his left, consisting of Pennsylva nia militia, under General Armstrong, to Sept. 9. 16 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. the same distance at a ford below Chad's. The main body, with the general-in-chief, was composed of Wayne's brigade, Wee- don's and Muhlenberg's, under General Greene, together with a body of lightin- fantry commanded by General Maxwell, and the artillery. Sullivan, on the right, had his own division and those of Lord Stirling and General Stephen. With Arm strong, on the left, where the position was considered of less importance, there were no troops but militia. On the following day, the en- sept. 10. ...... emy had advanced to Kennet Square, within seven miles of the Bran dywine. Washington, in the meantime, sent General Maxwell and his lighbin- fantry across the stream, to post them selves on the high ground on both sides of the road leading to Chad's ford, the passage of which they were ordered to resist to the utmost. Sullivan, too, was directed to be on the alert in watching the fords above. This officer was appa rently vigilant, but only extended his watchfulness to some four miles to his right, as far as the fork where the two branches of the Brandywine unite, and beyond which it was thought there was no likelihood of the enemy attempting to cross. After halting a night at Kennet Square, the British moved on early on the morn- ing of the next day, in two col- &ept» ii. r. umns. One, under the command of the Hessian general, Knyphausen, ad vanced in a direct line along the road to Chad's ford. The other, commanded by Lord Cornwallis, and accompanied by General Howe, diverged to their left, and Sept. 11. proceeded by way of the Lancaster road, which ran nearly parallel to the principal stream of the Brandywine, and crossed the two branches or forks which form it at its rise. As soon as General Knyphausen was discovered advancing toward him, Wash ington prepared to give him bat tle, thinking that his column was the main body of the enemy. Knyphau sen came on, firing his artillery, but was soon checked by General Maxwell, who from the heights on each side of the road poured down upon the advanced guards such a severe fire, that they were forced to fall back until reinforced by the rest of the troops. So large a force now came pushing on to their aid, that the Ameri cans were obliged to retire across the ford and join their main body under Washing ton. Three hundred of the enemy were supposed to have been killed and wound ed in this preliminary skirmish, while the loss of Maxwell was only about fifty men. Knyphausen held back his troops, halting them on the heights from which the Amer ican lightinfantry had retired. He did not seem anxious to renew the engage ment, though frequently provoked to do so by -skirmishing-parties from the other side. Maxwell crossed the ford a second time with his lightcorps, and drove an advanced party from their ground, with a loss to the British of thirty men left dead on the spot, and a number of in- trenching-tools with which they were en gaged in throwing up works for a battery. Knyphausen still held back, and some of the Americans on the other side of the river began to indulge in the belief that revolutionary.] APPROACH AND MANCEUVRES OF THE BRITISH. 17 they had effectually put a stop to his fur ther progress. The wary Hessian gener al, however, had a part to perform, as we shall see, and designedly resisted all prov ocations to engage. While Washington was speculating up on the probable manoeuvres of the Brit ish in his front, he received a despatch, at about twelve o'clock, from General Sullivan, informing him that one of his officers had reported that a large body of the enemy, supposed to amount to five thousand, with sixteen or eighteen field- pieces, was marching along the Lancas ter road. Washington immediately sent orders to Sullivan to cross the Brandy wine and attack this division, while he himself proposed to advance by Chad's ford against the other. The former was the main body of the British, which, as we have seen, had marched under Gener al Howe and Lord Cornwallis to the left, with the view of taking a long, circuitous route, leading across the unguarded fords of the branches of the Brandywine, and thus gaining the rear of the Americans. The division in front of the commander- in-chief, though supposed by him to be the main body of the enemy, was only a smaller column sent under Knyphausen to divert the Americans in front, while the main attack should be made by Howe and Cornwallis against their right flank and rear. Washington, having thus discovered the march of the British column under Howe and Cornwallis, was in a fair way of thwarting their designs, when another messenger arrived in all haste with intel ligence from Sullivan, contradicting the information which he had sent but a few moments before. Major Spear, of the mi litia, had come in from the fork of the Brandywine, and, having heard nothing of the enemy, "was confident" that they were not in that quarter. The orders for crossing the Brandywine were now coun termanded ; but Washington took care to secure more certain intelligence by send ing Colonel Bland, with a troop of cav alry, to reconnoitre the country beyond General Sullivan's position, and report at the earliest moment to that commander the result. In the meantime, one Thomas Cheyney, a farmer of that neighborhood, and a firm patriot, came riding in upon his " spirited mare all in a foam," and declared that he had seen the British, in a large body, on the north side of the river. Washington affirmed that it could not be, for he had just received contrary information. " My life upon it," answered Cheyney, with a round oath, to give emphasis to his dec laration, " it is true !" He was, however, listened to incredulously, when his story was confirmed a moment after by the fol lowing despatch, received by Washing ton: — " Two o'clock, P. M. " Dear General; Colonel Bland has this moment sent me word that the enemy are in the rear of my right about two miles, coming down. There are, he says, about two brigades of them. He also says he saw a dust back in the country for above an hour. I am, &c, "John Sullivan." Howe and Cornwallis had thus carried out their design with success. They had 18 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. succeeded, by a long circuit of seventeen miles, in crossing the Brandywine at the fords over the two branches of the river, and gained the rear of the right wing of Washington's army without opposition. They now took an advantageous position on the high ground near the Birmingham meetinghouse, which Sullivan's delay in waiting for orders gave them an oppor tunity of doing without the least show of resistance. The order to attack came from Washington as soon as he learned the approach of the enemy. General Sullivan was directed to bring his "whole right wing to bear at once against Howe and Cornwallis;" while Wayne was.ordered to keep Knyphausen in check at Chad's ford ; and General Greene to post himself with the Virginia brigades in a position between the two, and hold himself in reserve and ready to assist either as might be required. Some absurd misunderstanding about etiquette delayed Sullivan's troops in get ting into line of battle after marching to meet the enemy. General Deborre, a veteran Frenchman, who had a command in Lord Stirling's division, assumed the post of honor, on the extreme right. Sul livan claimed this as his own position, and, while manoeuvring his men to take it, the British began the attack, andcame upon the Americans while in the confu sion of the change. The'consequence was, an almost immediate rout of the right and left wings. The centre resisted spirited ly for awhile, but it soon gave way, and fled with the rest through the woods in their rear. While the enemy got somewhat bewil dered among the trees, in the course of their pursuit, the American officers strove to rally their men. Among them was L a- fayette, who had hurried from the side of Washington to join Sullivan's division so soon as he found that it was likely to be in the hottest of the fight, and had been engaged in the struggle as long as the centre held its ground. Now that it had given way, he dismounted, and, with Sullivan and Lord Stirling, was striving to bring back the men to the attack, when he was wounded by a musketball in the leg. His aid-de-camp was, fortunately, near by, and, lifting the marquis upon his horse, hurried him off Knyphausen, as soon as he heard the first gun from General Howe's column, which was the signal agreed upon, strove in earnest to. push his way across Chad's fbrd. Wayne, however, succeeded in keep ing him pretty well in check. Washington, who found that the right wing would be hard pressed, ordered Gen eral Greene to the relief of Sullivan ; and that q^^ moved with such speed, that his d|ipRm marched four miles in forty minutes ! He came up'however, only in time to meet the Americans in full flight, closely followed by the British. He then, by skilfully opening his ranks to allow the fugitives to pass, and closing them afterward, succeeded in protecting their retreat. While checking the pursuit of the enemy by his artillery, Greene retired to a narrow defile at a short distance be yond Dilworth, where he made a gallant stand with his Virginians. The British repeatedly attempted to force him from his position, but were constantly foiled t"s P° tl •' o -: r ',:• s ;¦ '"j ^ !i © •- >-¦i-4 f3 £ ^H9e ¦ SB! 5-vM? ¦ i ' _ _iij^i 4 ! /m.* «« revolutionary.] BATTLE OF THE BRANDYWINE. 19 by the stubborn resistance they encoun tered. Greene was thus enabled to cover the retreat of the whole army. General Howe finally drew off his troops from the pursuit. In the meantime, General Wayne strug gled manfully against Knyphausen, at Chad's ford, until the defeat of Sullivan, when he ordered a retreat. This, how ever, soon became a confused flight, in the course of which his baggage and ar tillery fell into the hands of the enemy. The Pennsylvania militia, under General Armstrong, had been too far removed from the scene of conflict to be engaged, and ¦retired early in safety. The whole American army was now in full retreat. " Fugitives, cannon, and bag gage," wrote Lafayette, " crowded with out order along the road leading to Ches ter." It was the young marquis's first taste of actual war, and the impression of its horrors was naturally very strong. In spite of " that dreadful confusion," and the " darkness of the night," of which he speaks, having had his bleeding wound bound up by a surgeon, he was, however, as he tells us, indefatigable in trying to check the flight of the fugitives at Ches ter bridge, where he posted a guard. On reaching this place, Washington reformed his scattered troops, and halted until the next morning, before continuing the re treat toward Philadelphia. The number of the killed and wound ed has never been accurately ascertained. The loss of the Americans, however, was declared by General Howe to be three hundred killed, six hundred wounded, and four hundred taken prisoners ; while his Sept. 12. own was estimated by him at only ninety killed, four hundred and eighty- eight wounded, and six missing. On the day after the battle, the British gen eral wrote to Washington, in forming him that the wounded Ameri cans were so numerous, that his own sur geons could not attend them. The French officers took a prominent share in the Brandywine battle. The young Lafayette, as we have seen, gal lantly sought the place of danger, and was wounded. The veteran Deborre — who had insisted upon the command of Sullivan's right — had, in consequence of the flight of his troops, been the first to yield to the enemy. Congress voted to inquire into his conduct on the occasion. At this resolution he was greatly indig nant, and wrote to that body, resigning his appointment, while he declared that, if the Americans did run away, it was not his fault. His resignation was readily accepted ; for, whatever may have been his military qualities, he had become so personally unpopular in the army, that Congress was rejoiced to get rid of him. Captain Louis de Fleury fought so brave ly, that he won Washington's admiration, and was rewarded by Congress with the gift of a horse, to compensate him for the one that he had lost in the engagement. The baron St. Ouary (or Ovary) was less fortunate, having been taken prisoner. General Conway (who was a Frenchman by adoption) had stood among the fore most with his eight hundred men in the centre, while the right and left had given way. General Greene complained that the 20 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. Virginia regiments of Weedon and Muh- lenburg, which, under his command, had so gallantly defended the pass at Dil- worth, were not noticed by Washington in his report to Congress. The command er-in-chief explained that he had been more reserved in praise of them because they were Virginians, and lest it might be supposed that he was prejudiced in their favor. General Sullivan was held responsible by public opinion for a large portion of the disasters of the day at the Brandy wine. A resolve was passed by Congress, recalling him from the army until a court of inquiry should be held. Washington, however, declared that he could not spare him at such a crisis in the public affairs, and Sullivan was accordingly left undis turbed in his command. CHAPTER LVI. General Burgoyne in Receipt of Bad News. — The British Commanders mutually in the Dark. — Burgoyne determines to advance. — General Gates proposes to meet Him. — His Resources. — General Lincoln hanging on the Rear of the Enemy. — Successes of Colonel Brown. — The Americans at Stillwater. — Bemis's Heights and their Fortifications. — Burgoyne willing to risk All. — " A Victory, and an Empire !" — A Brilliant Plan. — The Arrival of the Enemy. — A Halt. — The Opposing Lines. — Arrival of General Stark. — A Hearty Welcome. — The First Battle at Saratoga. — Morgan " ruined." — The Impetuous Arnold. — Progress of the Struggle. — Burgoyne claims a Victory. — The Baroness Reidesel and Lady Harriet Ackland. — Their Devotion and Fortitude. — Life in a Camp. — Following the Drum. Battle Horrors. 1777. When the discouraging intelli gence of the defeat of Baume at Bennington and the flight of St. Leger from Fort Schuyler reached General Bur goyne at Battenkill, on the Hudson, he would have fallen back with his troops to Fort Edward, within reach of his mag azines on the lakes, and there waited the progress of events. He had, however, been positively ordered by the British government to form a junction with Sir William Howe, and he determined at all hazards to perform his part. He never theless looked in vain for the co-opera tion of Howe. That general, in conse quence of his long delay on the coast, after leaving New York, did not receive his despatches in time to pursue the plan of operations laid down by the govern ment. He was already in Chesapeake bay before the orders to co-operate with Burgoyne reached him. He was then too far engaged in his expedition to Phil adelphia to obey them. Burgoyne, how ever, having no intelligence from Howe, still looked for a junction from New York, and determined to push on toward Alba ny, in order to do his part toward effect ing it, so soon as he should receive from the north the necessary supplies for a march. The American army, having retired be fore the British to Van Shaick's island, where the Mohawk unites its waters with revolutionary.] GENERAL BURGOYNE CROSSES THE HUDSON. 21 those of the Hudson, was now so strength ened by reinforcements, and encouraged by the late reverses of the enemy, that General Gates determined to march his troops back to meet the advance of Bur goyne. Gates felt confident in his means. His army now numbered about six thousand strong. With him was General Arnold, restless and eager for action, who had re turned after his successful ruse against St. Leger. With him, too, was the famous Colonel Morgan, with his five hundred riflemen, to whose ranks were added two hundred and fifty picked soldiers from the line, under the command of Major Dearborn, who had marched with Arnold through the wilderness of Maine, and was an old comrade of Morgan. Colonels Van Cortlandt and Livingston had lately come in with their two New- York regiments. Arnold was Gates's major-general ; Poor, Learned, Nixon, Glover, and Patterson, were his brigadiers. Morgan, Cook, Van Cortlandt, Henry and James Livingston, Cilley, Scammel, Hale, Brooks, Butler, Bailey, Wessen, Jackson, and Marshall, were the colonels. Morris, Dearborn, and Hull, were among the majors. General Wilkinson was deputy adjutantgeneral, and Colonel Morgan Lewis quartermas ter-general. General Lincoln was now in the New- Hampshire grants, with the militia, which was daily gathering in force, hanging on the left and rear of Burgoyne's army, and watching an opportunity for action. This soon offered. While Burgoyne was kept in forced inactivity, waiting supplies, Lin coln gained his rear and sent forward a 68 Sept. 18. detachment of five hundred men, under Colonel Brown, against the British posts on the lakes. This enterprise was con ducted with such secrecy and address, that Brown succeeded in surprising and gaining possession of all the out posts between the landing at the north end of Lake George and the for tress of Ticonderoga. Mount Defiance, Mount Hope, the old French lines, two hundred batteaux, an armed sloop, several gun-boats, and two hundred and ninety- three prisoners, were captured, almost without a blow. The fortresses at Ticon deroga and Mount Independence were too strongly garrisoned for Brown to mas ter with his small force ; but he succeed ed in releasing a hundred Americans held as prisoners, and bringing off as a trophy the continental flag which had been left by St. Clair on his retreat. He still con tinued in Burgoyne's rear. The American army began to retrace its steps toward the enemy on the 8th of September, and next day reached Still water. Here Kosciusko, who was the chief engineer, traced a line for intrench ments, and set a thousand men to work ; but the position being discovered to be untenable, Gates moved his army to Be- mis's heights, and began to fortify his ground by breastworks and redoubts. Burgoyne, having finally received his baggage, artillery, military stores, and thirty days' provisions, from Lake George, on the 13th and 14th of September he crossed the Hudson with his whole army to Saratoga. He had now risked all up on the chance of forcing his way to Al- ¦ bany. He had concentrated his troops, 22 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. he had abandoned his communication with the lakes, and his only hope was now to move forward. " There was much to dis courage and positively nothing to encour age " such an advance, but Burgoyne was determined to obey orders ; and, more over, there was something so enticing to a military leader in a plan, the successful execution of which it was believed would not only secure a victory, but an empire, that it is not surprising he should have risked all on the chance, however remote, of such a prize. The British ministry believed that Bur goyne's force by moving southward along the banks of the Hudson, and Sir William Howe's by advancing northward, could form a junction at Albany. Here there would be gathered a great army, which would cut off all communication between the eastern and southern provinces, and crush out all further opposition. " With out question," says an English writer,* " the plan was ably formed ; and had the success of the execution been equal to the ingenuity of the design, the recon- quest or submission of the thirteen Uni ted States must in all human probability have followed; and the independence which they proclaimed in 1776 would have been extinguished before it existed a second year." Burgoyne, after crossing the Hudson to Saratoga, moved forward toward the American encampment. As the country was rugged, and seamed with creeks and water-courses, his progress was necessa rily slow, for he was forced to construct bridges and build temporary causeways * Creary. before his army could move. Gates, too, took care to harass the British working- parties, by sending out the ever-active Arnold, with fifteen hundred men, who so greatly annoyed Burgoyne, that he was forced to advance whole regiments be fore he could get a bridge con structed. The enemy at length came to a halt within two miles of Gates's army. The ground upon which the two oppo sing forces were encamped may be thus described : On the north was what is now called Wilbur's basin, where the main body of Burgoyne's army was encamped. On the east was the Hudson, with its nar row alluvial flats. Westward from the flats were the river hills and an elevated plateau, terminating in Bemis's heights. Through the plain, branching in various directions, ran Mill creek, along the main channel of which was a ravine. South of this was a second ravine ; and again a third and larger one, still more to the south. Between these two latter were the principal American defences. The whole ground was covered with a dense forest, except the flats and some cleared fields called Freeman's farm, which was situated toward the middle of the plain, between the two encampments .* The American defences consisted of a line of breastworks along the brow of the hills, toward the river, about three quar ters of a mile in extent, forming a curve, with its convexity toward the enemy. A strong redoubt was raised at each extrem ity, and one near the centre, so as to com mand the flats. From the base of the * A. B. Street. revolutionary.] THE AMERICANS AND BRITISH AT SARATOGA. 23 hills was an in frenchmen t, reaching across the flats to the Hudson, with a battery on the margin of the river, guarding a float ing bridge. In advance, on the western border of Mill creek, near where it emp tied into the Hudson, were also a breast work and battery. On the morning of the 19 th of Septem ber the following was the position of the two armies : General Poor's brigade, con sisting of three New-Hampshire regiments under Colonels Cilley,Scammel,and Hale ; two of New York, under Colonel Philip Van Cortlandt and LieutenantColonel Henry Livingston; Colonels Cook and Latimer's Connecticut militia; Colonel Morgan with his rifle-corps, and the two hundred and fifty infantry under Major Dearborn, composed the left wing of the American army, under the command of Major-General Benedict Arnold, and rest ed on the heights, nearly a mile from the river. The centre, composed of General Learned's brigade; three Massachusetts regiments, under Colonels Bailey, Wes- sen, and Jackson ; and one of New York, under Colonel James Livingston, occu pied the elevated plain. The main body, consisting principally of the brigades of Nixon, Patterson, and Glover, and com manded by General Gates in person, com posed the right wing, extending across the river hills and flats toward the Hud son. The American army was greatly en couraged by the arrival of General Stark, with those troops which had so gallantly won the day at Bennington. Loud huz zas from the lines welcomed them as they entered the camp, aud great service was expected from them in the approaching engagement, They were, however, inde pendent militia, and did not seem disposed to submit to discipline. They swaggered about in loose array from tent to tent, peering curiously into everything, and apparently undetermined whether to stay or to go. They now began to collect in groups, and whisper mysteriously togeth er. Finally, with their knapsacks still on their backs, they boldly reminded their officers that their time of service had expired that day, and that they had resolved to go home. Stark urged them to remain, but his appeals were in vain ; and the heroes of Bennington marched back again, on the very day they had arrived. Rapidly as they hurried off, they could not have got beyond the sound of the guns when the action began ! The left wing of the British, with the large train of artillery, under General Phillips and the baron de Reidesel, occu pied the flats toward the river. The cen tre and right wing, of which most were Germans, commanded by Burgoyne in person, extended across the plains to the west. Their position was covered by the grenadiers and lightinfantry, under Gen eral Fraser and Colonel Breyman. On the flanks and in front was a miscellane ous throng of American loyalists, Cana dians, and Indians* About eight o'clock in the morning the officer commanding an Amer ican picket reported that the en emy had struck most of their tents on the plain, and that Burgoyne with his centre was passing westwardly in the direction * Street. Sept. 19 24 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. of the American left. Soon a more gen eral movement was observed. Fraser, with his light-infantry, was marching, by a circuitous route, from the right of the British, in the same direction as Bur goyne; and Phillips and De Reidesel were bringing up the artillery from the left, along the flats bordering the Hudson. The Indians and Canadians, in front of the British line, were also moving toward the outposts of the American centre. Bur goyne's object was, while the Indians and Canadians should divert Gates in front, and Phillips and De Reidesel on his right, to move round through the woods, and get to the rear of the American left. General Gates remained impassive, ap parently determined to await the attack ; but Arnold, in command of the left, grew so impatient, that he sent aid-de-camp af ter aid-de-camp to Gates, urging him to be allowed to send out a detachment, in order to check the advance of the enemy. The general finally consented, when about noon Arnold ordered out Morgan and Dearborn, with their riflemen, to the at tack. They soon came upon a body of Indians and Canadians in the woods, and scattered them at the first fire. The rifle men now pushed on in pursuit, when they found themselves suddenly brought to a check by being confronted with the whole British line. A complete rout of the Americans en sued, and Morgan's corps was so scattered, that he himself was left with only two of his men ! As the old forest-hunter was striving with his shrill "turkey-call" (from the conch-shell which he wore suspended from his neck) to whistle back his dis persed troops, Wilkinson, the adjutant general, rode up. " I am ruined, by G-d !" exclaimed Morgan, with tears in his eyes. " Major Morris ran on so rapidly with the front, that they were beaten before I could get up with the rear, and my men are scattered God knows where !" Mor gan, when marching into action, always brought up the rear himself, " to see," as he said, "that every man did his duty; and that cowards did not lag behind while brave men were fighting." Several officers and men of Morgan's corps had been taken prisoners. Major Morris, who had led them on so impetu ously, only saved himself by dashing his horse through the ranks of the enemy, who surrounded him, and making off by a circuitous route. The "turkey -call" soon brought back the fugitives, and Mor gan with his corps reformed, and being joined by Colonels Cilley, Brooks, and Scammel, and Major Hull, with their New Hampshire regiments, is now again pre pared for action. It is renewed with great spirit on both sides ; now the Brit ish are gaining ground, and again the Americans ; and so the contest is contin ued, with fluctuating result, until each party finally retires within the intrench ments, while neither claims the advan tage. Arnold, in the meantime,keeping watch over the movement of General Fraser — who is attempting to turn the American left — determines to thwart him by cut ting him off from the main body of the British. He accordingly pushes on rap idly with Colonel Hale's New-Hampshire regiment, three of New York under Van revolutionary.] BATTLE OF BEMIS'S HEIGHTS. 25 Cortland and Livingston, and a body of Connecticut militia, with the view of turn ing Fraser's left. As, however, he is stri ving to carry out his manoeuvre unob served, under the cover of the forest, he suddenly comes upon Fraser with his whole force, and a struggle ensues ; but General Phillips soon making his appear ance with his artillery, gave the enemy so greatly the advantage, that the Amer icans prudently retired. There was now a pause in the action. It was, however, soon renewed. The British stood in line, in advance of their encampment, upon the slope of a rising ground, amid scattered pines. The American ranks, formed ready for battle, were opposite, but closely hid from their enemy, in a thick forest. Between the two was "Freeman's farm," a cleared field, once cultivated by the hand of the peace ful husbandman, now choked with weeds and abandoned to the tramp of the sol dier. This Freeman's farm, between the opposing armies, was now the field of bat tie. The British provoke the conflict by a discharge of artillery. The Americans, however, remain unmoved. Soon the smoke clears away, and the ranks of the enemy are seen in motion, hurrying down the slope with apparent irregularity, as the sight is confused by the scattered pines. They now show themselves, how ever, in close and well-ordered array, ad vancing in the cleared ground below. They come on quickly, nearer and near er ; they halt, level their muskets, firing a volley, and then rush forward, charging with their bayonets. The Americans with hold their fire until the British are close up, and then with a sure aim pour upon them such a discharge, that their ranks, reeling with the shock, finally break and give way. The Americans now rush from their forestcovert and follow the enemy in close pursuit across the field. The British, reaching the high ground, and being covered by their artillery, now ral ly, and again charging with the bayonet, drive the Americans in their turn back to the woods. The marksmen once more with their deadly fire compel the enemy to flee, and again pursue them to the cov er of their encampment. The British rally and charge as before ; and thus did " the battle fluctuate, like waves of a strong sea, with alternate advantage, for four hours, without one moment's inter mission." Gallantly they fought on both sides, and night alone ended the conflict. Neither the British nor the Americans could justly claim the victory. The loss was nearly the same, amounting to more than three hundred each ; while the num ber engaged was also about equal, though some have stated that the Americans on ly brought twenty-five hundred into the field against three thousand of General Burgoyne's troops. In the course of the struggle, the Amer icans succeeded in gaining possession of some of the British artillery, but they had to fight hard for it. The captain and thirty-six men, out of a company of forty- eight, were struck down before their gun could be taken, so manfully did they cling to their piece. The cannon taken, how ever, for want of horses to bring them off, were left upon the field, and conse- 26 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. quently again fell into the hands of the enemy. General Burgoyne claimed the victory, as appeared by some letters found in the pouch of an Indian, who was shot dead by one of the American scouts on the lookout throughout the whole country around for British spies and messengers. The letters were written by Burgoyne to Sir Guy Carleton, in Canada. In one he wrote : " I take the first opportunity to inform you we have had a smart and very honorable action, and are now encamped in the front of the field, which must de monstrate our victory beyond the power of even an American newspaper writer to explain away." In another letter he declared: "We found five hundred of their [the Americans'] bodies the morn ing after." There were two women of rank in the British camp, whose noble devotion to their husbands and spirited endurance of the trials of affection and fortitude to which they were exposed in the course of the terrors and horrors of actual war, have given a romantic interest to Bur goyne's campaign. No historian has failed to record the remarkable adventures of the baroness Reidesel and Lady Harriet Ackland. The former has, in her own natural narrative, left the best history of her sad experience in America. The baroness Reidesel was the wife of the Hessian general in command of the Germans. Lady Harriet Ackland was the sister of the earl of Ilchester, and the wife of Major Ackland, of the grenadiers. They had accompanied their husbands to Quebec, where they were urged to remain during the campaign. Lady Ackland, however, having heard that the major had received a wound in the affair at Hubbardton, she hurried to join him in spite of the risks and trials of the jour ney. She could not be prevailed upon afterward to leave him, and accompanied the army during the dreary and tedious march to Fort Edward. Here the tent in which she lodged took fire, and she barely escaped with her life. She still resolutely persevered in clinging to her husband, and followed each advance of the British army, driving in " a small, two- wheeled tumbril, drawn by a single horse, over roads almost impassable."* The baroness Reidesel, equally devo ted, followed her husband also. "I or dered," she writes, " a large calash to be built, capable of holding my three chil dren, myself, and two female-servants ; in this manner we moved with the army in the midst of the soldiery, who were very merry, singing songs and panting for ac tion." She thus followed the army, gen erally remaining about an hour's march in the rear, where she received daily vis its from her husband the baron. When Burgoyne encamped opposite to Gates, Major Williams of the artillery proposed, as the frequent change of quarters was in convenient, to have a house built for her, " with a chimney," quite an unusual lux ury in that hard campaign. As it would cost "only five or six guineas" — some twenty-five dollars — the baroness con sented, and the dwelling was constructed, and named "The Blockhouse," from its square form, and the resemblance which * Thacher. revolutionary.] THE BARONESS REIDESEL AND LADY ACKLAND. 27 it bore to buildings so called, erected for purposes of defence. On the bloody day of the 19th of Sep tember, however, the " Blockhouse" was abandoned; and the baroness Reidesel, together with L ady Ackland and the wives of Major Hamage and Lieutenant Rey- nell, being advised to follow the route of the artillery, took refuge, when the en gagement commenced, in a small hut near Freeman's farm, the ladies retiring into the cellar as the danger increased. "I was an eye-witness," says the bar oness, " to the whole affair ; and as my husband was engaged in it, I was full of anxiety, and troubled at every shot I heard. I saw a great number of the wounded, and, what added to the distress of the scene, three of them were brought into the house in which I took shelter." One was Major Hamage, who was very badly wounded; and, soon after, word came that Lieutenant Reynell was shot dead ! The wives of both were in the hut, with the baroness Reidesel and Lady Ackland. " Imagination wants no help," wrote Burgoyne, " to figure the state of the whole group." CHAPTER LVII. A Gloomy Morning. — Gayly to Arms ! — Anxious Expectation. — Attack postponed. — Another Delay. — News from Sir Henry Clinton. — General Burgoyne's Only Hope. — The Treacherous Iroquois. — Nothing more from Sir Henry. — Im patience of Burgoyne. — Fortifies. — No Sleep. — The Provincials in High Spirits. — Trouble in the American Camp — Generals Arnold and Gates. — Their Quarrel. — Arnold resigns. — A Second, Sober Thought — Arnold without Com mand. — Blustering about the Camp. 1777. The morning after the battle of Bemis's heights opened dull and gloomy. A thick mist rose from the river, and, overspreading plain and forest, hung in heavy folds about the sides of the hills. The dead and the wounded had been gathered during the night from the field of battle. Sufferers were groaning with pain in tent and hos pital ; mourners were weeping over the fresh graves of their buried comrades; surgeons with probe and knife were busy at their bloody but merciful work ; and priests were uttering the solemn words of prayer. Yet, amid the gloom of Na ture, the groans of the dying, and the mourning for the dead, the drums beat gayly to arms in the British camp, and soldiers were briskly stepping into the ranks. . The thick fog hid the two armies from each other, but both were ready to renew the bloody struggle of yesterday. A de serter came into the American camp, his mouth all smutched with the biting of cartridges. He had been, he said, in the whole of the action of the previous day. The night was spent in removing the wounded and the women to the encamp ment and hospital tents near the river. 28 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. Fresh ammunition had been served out to the troops ; his own cartridge-box was now crammed with sixty rounds ; and he declared that when he left the British ranks, only a quarter of an hour before, the whole of the enemy's force was un der arms, and orders had been given to attack the American lines. In ten min utes more, he added, Burgoyne would march. Trusting to this report, General Gates ordered his lines to be manned immedi ately; and he and his officers exhorted the troops to show themselves, in the com ing conflict, worthy of the cause for which they fought. The men, though wearied with a struggle which had lasted until night of the previous day, readily obeyed the summons for another day's work ; and eagerly, as they stood in rank, strove to pierce with their straining eyes the thick mist, and catch a glimpse of the approach ing enemy. Gates, however, did not share in the enthusiasm of his troops. Each minute, as it passed, was one of anxious solicitude. He was ill prepared that day (as he and some of his officers only knew) to meet the enemy. His ammunition was nearly exhausted, and he was anxiously awaiting a supply from Albany. An hour of excited expectation and anxious suspense passed, during which hope and fear played with the imagina tion. Some thought they could hear the movement of the enemy, and others that through the floating mist they could catch a sight of the advancing British troops. The sun, now dispersing the vapor, shone out — not flashing upon the arms of a threatening enemy, but only revealing in its bright reflection the sparkling surface of the Hudson, and the verdure of the forest, still freshly green in the early au tumn, upon hill and plain. Gates now gladly dismissed the troops. Burgoyne had drawn up his army, and was about ordering it to march to the at tack, when General Fraser (whose ability and dauntless courage had gained for him great and well-deserved influence with his commander) besought him to post pone the assault, as the grenadiers and lightinfantry, who were to take the lead, seemed wearied by the hard work of the day before. Burgoyne accordingly or dered his troops back to camp, and de termined to postpone the attack until the next morning. Burgoyne's design was, however, again put off His anxious desire to hear from New York was now gratified. In the mid dle of the night a spy entered his camp, with a letter in cipher from Sir Henry Clinton, in which that general stated that he was about making an attack upon the forts on the North river. The American scouts were everywhere so much on the alert, that the ingenuity of the British commanders was greatly taxed to keep up a communication. Let ters were often copied in duplicate, and even in triplicate, and, although each was sent by a separate messenger, it was sel dom that either arrived. Burgoyne now heard from Sir Henry Clinton for the first time. Greatly disappointed as he was to find that General Howe with his whole force was not coming to Albany, revolutionary.] HOPES AND FEARS OF BURGOYNE. 29 to co-operate with him, as he had been led to expect when the plan of the cam paign was laid down by the English gov ernment, he was still encouraged by the mere show of an advance of a British force, however small, from New York. In answer to Sir Henry Clinton, Burgoyne wrote : " An attack, or the menace of an attack, upon Montgomery [the fort of that name on the North river], must be of great use, as it will draw away a part of this force, and I will follow them close. Do it, my dear friend, directly." He now determined to wait a few days, in order to give Sir Henry Clinton an op portunity to begin operations, before ma king his attack. His provisions could not last beyond the 20th of October ; and, as his communication with Canada was so completely cut off, that he could not re ceive a man or a biscuit from that quar ter, his only hope was, with the aid of General Clinton, to be able soon to move forward. He could wait until the 12th, he declared, and no longer. Colonel St. L eger had succeeded, after his flight from Fort Schuyler, in making his way back to Ticonderoga with a mea ger remnant of troops, and would have joined Burgoyne had he been able to reach him. Colonel Brown was in his way with a detachment of General Lin coln's New-Hampshire troops, which, af ter retiring from an unsuccessful attempt upon Fort Diamond, was now hanging in the rear of the British encampment, and completely cutting it off from all commu nication with the north. Burgoyne's Indians, too, had suffered so terribly from Morgan's sharpshooters, 69 and their propensities for scalping and plundering been so checked by the hu mane restrictions of the British command er, that they lost all inducement to serve, and could no longer be prevailed upon to remain. A baTid of Iroquois, amount ing to more than a hundred and fifty, treacherously transferred their uncertain fealty to what they believed to be the stronger side, that of Gates. The Cana dians and American loyalists likewise lost heart, and deserted in numbers. General Burgoyne, however, was still firm ; and his regulars shared in the resolute spirit of their undaunted commander, who de clared to his men that he would either force his way to Albany or leave his bones on the field of battle. Burgoyne heard nothing more from Sir Henry Clinton, but cheered himself and his army with the hope that intelligence would soon arrive of a successful result to the promised ef forts at co-operation from New York. While Burgoyne was awaiting news from Sir Henry Clinton, he began to for tify his encampment. He raised breast works on the flats by the river to his left, on the plain at his centre, and up the ac clivity of the hills on his right, strength ened here and there by abattis of heaped- up rails and by redoubts. His men were kept constantly at work, and on the alert. " From the 20th of September to the 7th of October," wrote Burgoyne, in his nar rative of the expedition, "the armies were so near, that not a night passed without firing, and sometimes concerted attacks upon our advanced pickets. I do not be lieve either officer or soldier ever slept in that interval without his clothes ; or 30 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. that any general officer or commander of a regiment passed a single night without being upon his legs occasionally at differ ent hours, and constantly an hour before daylight." Gates and his arnry "although equally on the alert, had less labor and anxiety. Their defensive works had already been raised, and nothing was now left but to strengthen them here and there. The Americans were in high spirits; for, al though they did not claim the victory on the 19th of September, they had been able, with equal if not with fewer num bers, to fight a drawn battle with the choicest of the British troops, and were thus encouraged to further effort. Rein forcements, too, came thronging in : Gen eral Lincoln had arrived, with two thou sand New-Hampshire men ; and the mili tia offered themselves freely from the sur rounding country, which was now inspir ited by the perils threatening Burgoyne, and the triumphs awaiting Gates. Sup plies also of food and ammunition were daily brought into the American camp in great abundance, while the scanty rations of Burgoyne's soldiers were rapidly di minishing. There was, however, trouble brewing in the American camp. The impetuous Arnold, never very submissive, had been vexed into a great rage by the somewhat arbitrary cond uct of General Gates. On the opening of the battle of the 19th, Ar nold had repeatedly and urgently sent to the general-in-chief for reinforcements be fore his demand was complied with, and he attributed the delay to an envious spir it on the part of Gates. The next day, Arnold importunately insisted Sept. 20. upon Gates giving battle to the enemy ; but his advice, very intrusively and persistently urged, was finally reject ed, although the reason was left unex plained. Gates's reason was a good one (his supply of ammunition having given out), but he did not deign to state it — leaving Arnold to put his own construc tion upon his motives. The latter attrib uted it to envy, and gave vent to his feel ings of indignation. " I have lately ob served," he wrote to Gates, " little or no attention paid to any proposals I have thought it my duty to make for the pub lic service ; and when a measure I have proposed has been agreed to, it has been immediately contradicted. I have been received with the greatest coolness at headquarters, and often huffed in such a manner as must mortify a person with less pride than I have, and in my station in the army." Arnold began to talk freely in camp of Gates's opposition to him, and succeeded in gaining the sympathy of some of the officers, among whom there were those who were attached to General Schuyler, and were indignant that he should have been superseded. He was thus encour aged in the indulgence of his spirit of in subordination. General Wilkinson, on the other hand, was at that time a great par tisan of Gates ; and, being unfriendly tow ard Arnold, he lost no opportunity of grat ifying the one and vexing the other. He accordingly, with apparently no better motive than piquing Arnold, induced the commander-in-chief to issue the following order : " Colonel Morgan's corps, not be- revolutionary.] QUARREL BETWEEN GATES AND ARNOLD. 31 ing attached to any brigade or division of the army, he is to make returns and re ports to headquarters only, from whence alone he is to receive orders." This greatly angered Arnold, for he declared it was notorious to the whole army that Colonel Morgan's corps had done duty "for some time past" with his division. He hastened to headquarters, and, confronting the commander-in-chief, " asserted his pretensions to the command of the elite, and was ridiculed by General Gates. High words and gross language ensued."* In the course of this interview, Gates told Arnold that he did not know that he was a major-general, or had any command in the army ! Arnold retired in a great rage, and immediately wrote a letter to Gates, in which he said : " As I find your observation very just, that I am not or that you wish me of little conse quence in the army, and as I have the in terest and safety of my country at heart, I wish to be where I can be of most ser vice to her. I therefore, as General Lin coln is arrived, have to request your pass to Philadelphia, with my two aids-de-camp and their servants, where I propose to join General Washington ; and may possibly * Wilkinson. have it in my power to serve my coun try, although I am thought of no conse quence in this department." Gates was well pleased thus easily to get rid of one who, by his brilliant talents and his dashing courage as a soldier, was likely to throw into the shade the more sober qualities of his superior. The pass was immediately written and sent to Ar nold, in accordance with his request. Sev eral formal notes subsequently passed be tween them, mutually recriminatory ; but Arnold still lingered in camp, and finally wrote to Gates, saying, " I am determined to sacrifice my feelings, present peace, and quiet, to the public good, and con tinue in the army at this critical junc ture, when my country needs every sup port." Arnold, therefore, remained without a command, Gates, himself having taken his division on the left. It was, however, freely rumored that General Lincoln was to assume the command, which he finally did. In the meantime, Arnold blustered about the camp, and de clared that it would be death to any offi cer who should venture to interfere with his division in the expected battle.* * Irving. Sept. 25. 32 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. CHAPTER LVIII. Sir Henry Clinton prepares for an Expedition. — The American Forts on the Hudson. — The Patriotic Clintons. — General Putnam at Peekskill. — Sir Henry Clinton sails up the River. — " Old Put" astir. — Mistaken Calculations. — Landing of the British. — Governor George Clinton at Fort Montgomery. — A Traitorous Messenger. — Sir Henry Clinton lands at Stony Point. — The Plan of Attack. — An Unexpected Resistance. — Hard but Unsuccessful Struggle of the Ameri cans. — Demands for Surrender. — The Refusal. — Desperate Assault. — The Americans overpowered. — Escape of the Clintons. — The Loss on Both Sides. — Count Gabrowski. — Died like a Soldier. — Burning of the American Vessels. — A Sublime Scene. — Booms and Chevaux-de-Frise all gone. — The Victorious Advance of the British. — The Clintons rallying again. — A Spy, and the Effects of Tartar-Emetic. — Sir Henry's Letter from Fort Montgomery. — Esopus in Ruins. — Old Put discouraged. 1777. Although General Burgoyne was ignorant of the movements of Sir Henry Clinton, that spirited officer was losing no time in doing all and even more than he had promised. The reinforce ment from England of two thousand men, under General Robertson, having been " shipped in Dutch bottoms," did not ar rive at New York until the end of Sep- tember,after a protracted voyage of three months. On their arrival, Sir Henry was ready to set out on his expedition up the North river. He had already prepared everything in advance. A fleet of trans ports and flatbottomed boats had been anchored off the upper end of the island of New York ; troops had been gathered together at Kingsbridge ; a supply of hard bread had been baked ; and as soon as General Robertson and his troops land ed to garrison New York in his absence, Sir Henry Clinton embarked three thou sand men and sailed up the Hudson. General Putnam was still at Peekskill — with a force, however, reduced to the small number of twelve hundred conti nental troops and three hundred militia, in consequence of the drafts made upon him by Washington to reinforce the army in Pennsylvania. The forts, too, on the river were but feebly garrisoned. Fort Independence, on the east side of the Hudson, was near Putnam's post at Peeks- kill ; but he could spare only a few men from his meager force to defend it. Forts Clinton and Montgomery, on the west side and above, were manned by not more than six hundred militia, divided between the two. George Clinton, the governor of New York, commanded Fort Montgom ery, while his brother had charge of Fort Clinton, which was situated a hundred yards or so to the south, and separated from the northern fort by a deep inlet from the Hudson, called " Peplopenkill." From a short distance above the kill to Anthony's Nose, opposite, were stretched a chevaux-de-frise, a boom, and a huge iron chain, which, wdth the armed galleys, the two frigates anchored above, and the guns of the forts, wrere supposed to be an effect ual obstacle to the ascent of the river. General Putnam, at Peekskill, was on the alert. He had received information REVOLUTIONARY.] SIR HENRY CLINTON UP THE HUDSON. 33 of the arrival of British reinforcements at New York, and of Sir Henry Clinton's preparations for his expedition. The de signs of the enemy he supposed to be either "against the posts of the High lands, or some part of the counties of Westchester or Dutchess." He had sent due notice to Governor Clinton, who was absent at the time from his military post, and engaged in the performance of his civil functions elsewhere. The governor immediately returned to Fort Montgom ery, having first ordered out the militia of the state of New York. The farmers, as it was nearly seedtime, and they had not yet sown their grain, did not muster very readily at the call of the governor. A considerable force was, however, finally gathered ; part of which was stationed at the forts, and the rest sent to Peekskill. But the men be came " extremely restless and uneasy ;" and General Putnam, who in his old age was becoming quite the reverse, gave ear to the grumblings of the discontented yeomen, and allowed them to return to their fields. The governor, however, who was disposed to be more exacting, called one half of them back again, with the un derstanding that, after they had served a month, they should be dismissed, and the other half called in to take their places. While this plan was being carried into effect, there was so much delay in set tling who should serve first and who last, that neither got ready in time to be of service in the approaching emergency. The wind having been unfavorable, Sir Henry Clinton was detained till the night of Saturday the 4th of October, when, with a fair breeze, the fleet, under the command of Commodore Holtham, stood up the river. In advance sailed two men- of-war, three tenders, and a large flotilla of flatbottomed boats. Soon after fol lowed a frigate, five square-rigged vessels, and a number of small craft. Putnam was on the watch at Peekskill, and, hav ing stationed guard-boats along the river, soon heard of the enemy's approach. His next intelligence was, that Sir Henry Clinton had landed at Tarrytown, some thirty miles from New York. This being on the same side of the river, and below Peekskill, " Old Put" quite made up his mind that his post was Clinton's object, and he accordingly sent off parties to harass him, " if prudent," on his march. Sir Henry, however, at that moment had no designs upon Peekskill, and had merely landed at Tarrytown in order to divert Putnam from his real purpose. He accordingly, after marching his men five miles into the country,marched them back again, re-embarked them on board his ves sels, and sailed farther up the river. Clin ton, still bent upon concealing his object from Putnam, proceeded up the Hudson as far as Verplanck's Point, on the east side, wrhere he again landed with a con siderable force, only eight miles below Peekskill. Putnam was now still more confident that his post and Fort Indepen dence were threatened; and while con sulting with General Parsons, and cau tiously reconnoitring the supposed posi tion of the main body of the British, Sir Henry Clinton, taking advantage of a fog gy morning, crossed over next day at an early hour from Verplanck's Point, with 34 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. two of his three thousand men, to Stony Point opposite, and marched for Forts Clinton and Montgomery. Putnam's scouts brought in word that some of the enemy had landed on the west side of the river, where a building had been set on fire ; but it was supposed that those who had crossed composed only a small force, whose object was to burn the storehouses at Stony Point, and that the principal body still remained at Ver planck's Point. Putnam was not unde ceived until he heard " a very heavy and hot firing, both of small-arms and cannon, at Fort Montgomery," which immediately convinced him that the British had gone over in the morning with a large force. He then, at this late moment, detached five hundred men to reinforce the garri sons at Forts Montgomery and Clinton. Before they could cross the river, howev er, Sir Henry Clinton, as we shall see, had gained his object. Governor Clinton, at Fort Montgome ry, was aroused to the danger threatening the forts ; and, having first sent a messen ger to General Putnam, asking for a rein forcement, he ordered out Major Logan, an alert officer, well acquainted with the ground, with thirty men, to reconnoitre and gain intelligence of the enemy. The major did not return until nine o'clock the next morning, when he declared that, from the sound he had heard of the row ing of boats, he believed that the British had crossed with a considerable force, but, as the morning was foggy, it had been impossible to see them and compute their numbers. The governor, on hearing this intelligence, despatched Lieutenant Jack son, with a small party, to watch their movements, and anxiously awaited a re sponse to his message to General Putnam asking reinforcements. These, however, never came ; for the messenger proved a traitor, and went over to the enemy. Sir Henry, on landing at Stony Point, left a strong guard there to secure his communication with the war-ships, and marched by a circuitous route toward the forts, which were in a direct line, about twelve miles distant. While the trans ports were anchored offStony Point, three of the British men-of-war (the Tartar, the Mercury, and the Preston) moved a short distance up the river, and moored near Fort Independence, in order to keep the Americans in check on that side of the Hudson, and prevent Putnam from send ing aid to the garrisons opposite. The British, guided by a tory, well ac quainted with the country, proceeded through a narrow and rugged defile skirt ing the western base of the Dunderberg or Thunder mountain, which rises with rocky cliffs abruptly from the border of the Hudson. On reaching a ravine at the north, between Dunderberg and Bear hill, Sir Henry Clinton divided his force. One division, under Lieutenant Colonel Campbell, was ordered to proceed to Fort Montgomery, while Sir Henry himself led the other against Fort Clinton. With Campbell's division were nine hundred men, some of whom were American loy alists, under the command of Colonel Bev erly Robinson, of New York ; some Brit ish grenadiers, led by the youthful Lord Rawdon, who was accompanied by his friend Count Gabrowski, a Pole ; and the revolutionary.] FORTS CLINTON AND MONTGOMERY STORMED. 35 rest of the force was composed of Hes sians. LieutenantColonel Campbell was or dered to make a circuitous march to the west around Bear hill, and the rear of Fort Montgomery, which he was directed to attack when Sir Henry himself was pre pared to begin upon Fort Clinton, toward which he now led his division. Sir Henry had but a small distance to march, as Fort Clinton was the nearer of the two fortresses, and could be reached by a shorter circuit. While Campbell's route led off to the left of Bear hill, that of Sir Henry Clinton was to the right, through a ravine, and thence in a direct line to the fort, between a pond called Sinipink lake and the river. Sir Henry advanced cautiously, though he deluded himself with the hope that his movement was unsuspected. He soon had reason to know that the Americans were on the alert ; for his advance-guard, on reaching Doodletown, on the Haver- straw road, fell in with Lieutenant Jack son and his scouting-party, who had been sent out to reconnoitre. The British fired as Jackson came up, who, after giving them a volley in return, was forced to re treat with his handful of men. The firing was heard at Fort Clinton, and General James Clinton, who was in command there, immediately despatched fifty continental troops, under Lieuten antColonel Bruyn, and the same num ber of militia, under LieutenantColonel M'Claughrey, to meet Sir Henry and op pose his approach. They soon became engaged in a hot struggle, but the Brit ish were too numerous for them, and they fell back — disputing the rough ground, however, inch by inch, to the walls of the fort. LieutenantColonel Campbell's march to Fort Montgomery, through the defile on the west side of Bear hill, was no less disputed than Sir Henry's advance to Fort Clinton. Colonel Lamb (he who had so gallantly served his battery at Quebec, under Arnold) had been sent out with a covering-party of sixty men from the fort, to plant a fieldpiece in an advantageous position,commanding the narrow and rug ged path through which the enemy would be obliged to advance. A second detach ment of sixty were also ordered to follow Lamb and sustain him. Campbell came leading on his men at a quick pace, when he was suddenly brought to a check by a discharge of grapeshot from Lamb's gun and a well-directed fire of musketry from the Americans posted on the high ground on a border of the defile. The shock was so severe, that the whole British force was driven back, and at each effort to push forward again was so effect ually checked, that Campbell was obliged to withdraw his men. He now, however, divided his troops, and filing them off by the right and the left through the woods, attempted to surround the Americans, who, seeing his purpose, abandoned their fieldpiece, after first spiking it to render it useless to the enemy, and then retired. Governor Clinton, in order to cover their retreat and harass the foe, ordered out a twelve-pounder, which, being well served with grapeshot, greatly annoyed the Brit ish, and gave the Americans an opportu nity of reaching the fort with very little 36 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. loss, except the capture of Captain Fen- no, who commanded the gun. It was now about two o'clock in the afternoon, and the enemy continued to push on toward the forts. They were, however, so checked in their advance by the abattis of felled trees and the opposi tion they met, that they were not ready to begin the attack till nearly five o'clock. Lieutenant- Colonel Campbell now ap proached with a flag, when Lieutenant Colonel Livingston was sent out to meet him, and demand his rank and business. Campbell, having announced who he was, said that he came to demand the surren der of the fort in five minutes, to prevent the further effusion of blood ; and he de clared that, if the garrison would give themselves up as prisoners-of-war, they might depend upon being well treated. Livingston rejected the proposition with scorn, and informed Campbell that he might begin his attack as soon as he pleased, as it was determined to defend the forts to the last extremity. In about ten minutes the enemy at tacked both posts with desperate energy. They met with spirited resistance on the part of the meager garrisons in the forts. The numbers of the assailants, however, were overwhelming. With fixed bayo nets they came rushing against the forti fications, mounting on one another's shoul ders, and climbing through the embra sures by the sides of the guns, hot with incessant firing. They crowded in upon the ramparts, but the brave garrison still resisted, fighting desperately in a hand- to-hand struggle. Seeing themselves,how- ever, surrounded on all sides, and night coming on, the Americans found it use less to dispute the possession any longer. Most were obliged to throw down their arms and surrender; but others fought their way through the enemy, and thus escaped. Among these were Governor Clinton and his brother James. The lat ter, though wounded in the thigh, slid down a precipice one hundred feet high, into the ravine between the forts, and got off through the woods. His brother, the governor, let himself down the steep rocks and reached the river-side just as a boat was pushing off with a number of other fugitives. They pulled back to take him in ; but as the boat was loaded down to the gunwale, he declined to go, for fear of risking their safety. They, however, having insisted, and declared that the boat could easily hold him, he was induced to get in, and succeeded in crossing the Hud son in safety. He now hastened to join General Putnam* The loss of the Americans in killed, wounded, and prisoners, amounted to al most three hundred ; that of the enemy, in killed and wounded,.to only a hundred and forty. The British loss in officers was, as usual, disproportionately large. Among those who fell were Lieutenant Colonel Campbell, who led the division against Fort Montgomery ; Major Grant, of the New- York loyalists ; Captain Stew art, of the grenadiers ; and Major Lile, of the sixty-third regiment. The gallant count Gabrowski likewise fell, mortally wounded by three balls. He had ad vanced to the storming of the fort by the side of his young friend Lord Raw- * Irving. revolutionary.] THE BRITISH TRIUMPHANT ON THE HUDSON. 37 don (afterward the marquis of Hastings), at the head of the British grenadiers. As they became entangled among the felled trees, and each man was obliged to find a path for himself, Gabrowski was sepa rated from his lordship, when he received the fatal shot. As he fell, he took the sword from his side, and, handing it to a grenadier, begged him to deliver it to Lord Rawdon, and tell him that he had died like a soldier. It was dusk when the struggle ceased, and dark night before the fall of the forts became known to those on board the American vessels which were stationed above the chevaux-de-frise across the river. As they feared that Admiral Holtham — who, during the contest on shore, had moved up, and while cannonading the forts had brought his ships within gun shot of the American frigates and galleys — would now direct his attention to them, an attempt was made to get them so far above the chevaux-de-frise as to be out of reach. The officers accordingly called all hands to slip the cables, hoist sail, and get under weigh. The vessels, however, being badly manned, the tide on the ebb, and the wind having died away, it was found impossible to manage them. The frigate Montgomery, which was nearest to the chain, lost her headway and drift ed down so close to the enemy, that the captain and his crew were forced to set fire to and abandon her. The other frig ate, the Congress, got aground near Fort Constitution, and was burnt, as were also the two galleys and the sloop. " The flames," says Stedman,the British annalist, " suddenly broke forth, and, as 70 Oct. 7. every sail was set, the vessels soon be came magnificent pyramids of fire. The reflection on the steep face of the oppo site mountain, and the long train of rud dy light which shone upon the water for a prodigious distance, had a wonderful effect; while the ear was awfully filled with the continued echoes from the rocky shores, as the flames gradually reached the loaded cannons. The whole was sub limely terminated by the explosions,which left all again in darkness." The next day, the boom, chain, chev aux-de-frise, and all, which had cost a quar ter of a million of dollars, Avere destroyed by the English sailors ; and a flying squadron of small frigates, under Sir James Wallace, with a detach ment of British troops on board, com manded by General Vaughan, moved tri umphantly up the Hudson. On land, Fort Constitution, opposite West Point, and Fort Independence, near Peekskill, were abandoned. General Vaughan now land ed his force and marched against Esopus (now Kingston), and, having put to flight a small band of militia, burnt the village to the ground, together with a large sup ply of military stores. General Putnam, after the fall of the forts, retired from Peekskill, and, march ing along the east side of the Hudson, posted himself in a defile in the mount ains near Fishkill. Governor Clinton, in the meantime, having collected two con tinental regiments and a straggling force of militia, moved along the western side of the river, with the view of keeping be tween the enemy and Albany, where he hoped to be joined by General Putnam, 38 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii Oct. 9. who was to proceed along the eastern bank. On reaching New Windsor, Governor Clinton's advanced guards brought in a couple of British spies, on their way from Sir Henry Clinton to General Burgoyne. One of them, as soon as caught, was ob served to put something into his mouth and swallow it. A severe dose of tartar-emetic was at once admin istered, which brought from him a small silver bullet. In the hollow of it was found this letter: — " Fort Montgomery, Oct. 8, 1777. "Nous y void, and nothing between us but Gates. I sincerely hope this little success of ours may facilitate your opera tions. In answer to your letter of the 20 th Sept., by C. C, I shall only say I can not presume to order or even advise, for reasons obvious. I heartily wish you suc cess. Faithfully yours, "H Clinton." The spy, moreover, confessed that Cap tain Campbell, who had brought despatch es from General Burgoyne, was on his re turn, with the news of the fall of Forts Clinton and Montgomery. He started on the 8th of October. Governor Clinton now followed close upon the heels of Gen eral Vaughan, but reached Esopus only in time to find it in ruins. He then, af ter hanging the British spies to an apple- tree, moved forward, spiritedly resolved to do his best to frustrate the enemy in their endeavor to reach Albany before him. " Old Put" was evidently very much discouraged. On the 8th of October, he wrote to General Gates, saying, " I can not flatter you or myself with the hopes of preventing the enemy's advancing; therefore, prepare for the worst." The next day his words are still less cheerful : " The Connecticut militia came in yester day and the day before in great numbers, but I am sorry to say they already begin to run away. The enemy can take a fair wind, and, with their flatbottomed boats, which have all sails, go to Albany or Half- Moon with great expedition, and I be lieve without opposition." In the meantime, we shall see that great events were occuring in the North, destined to change the relative prospects which seemed so dismal for the Ameri cans and so encouraging to the British on the North river. Let us now go back to the hostile camps near Saratoga. revolutionary.] BURGOYNE'S STRAITS— ARNOLD IMPATIENT. 39 CHAPTER LIX. Battle of Bemis's Heights continued. — The Opposing Armies. — General Burgoyne in the Dark. — His Diminishing Sup- plios. — His Impatience. — General Gates strong, confident, and patient. — Arnold in a Hurry. — " To Arms !" — The Game begun. — The Order of Battle. — The Conflict. — Fall of General Fraser. — The Tragic Scene. — Stained with British Blood. — The Wounded Ackland. — The Mad Arnold. — He is down, but up again. — The Victory. 1777. Sept. 19. The two armies of Burgoyne and Gates remained within cannon-shot of each other ; neither having yielded an inch of ground since the bloody conflict of Bemis's heights. Both con tinued busy with their fortifica tions, and the adjoining forest resounded from morning till night with the strokes of the axe. Burgoyne was waiting anx iously for further news from Sir Henry Clinton. It was now the 7th of October, and he had received no intelligence since the arrival of the spy in his camp on the night of the 20th of September. He knew nothing of Clinton's success on the North river — of his capture of the forts Mont gomery and Clinton ; of the advance of the British fleet up the Hudson ; and of the unopposed march of General Vaughan, who was hastening to Albany, to bring hope to Burgoyne of a junction, and of a triumphant result to his eventful cam paign. The necessities, however, of the British commander, made him impatient; and, receiving no intelligence from Sir Henry Clinton, he could wait no longer. His provisions were so rapidly diminishing, that he had been already obliged to re duce the rations of each soldier ; and now that he prepared to give battle, his wants were so urgent, that he was about stri king a blow more from necessity than from policy. General Gates, on the other hand, with his daily increasing strength, and the con stantly diminishing resources of his an tagonist, was not disposed to hurry into action, and put to the hazard of a battle the certainties of a position which were proving so fatal to his adversary. The impatient Arnold, in the meanwhile, was striving, by his importunate communica tions to provoke him to engage the ene my : " I think it my duty," he wrote to Gates, " (which nothing shall deter me from doing) to acquaint you the army are clamorous for action." The general- in-chief, however, wisely gave no heed to Arnold's advice, which was intrusively urged more to irritate than to guide. He prudently waited until Burgoyne should make the first move. He did not wait long. On the afternoon of the 7th of October, the advanced guard of the American cen tre suddenly beat to arms. The alarm at once ran throughout the line, and the troops hurried to their posts. General Gates, who was at his headquarters, ea- 40 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. gerly caught at the sound of the drums, and immediately sent off AdjutantGen- eral Wilkinson to seek out the cause. Wilkinson, mounting his horse, galloped to the guard which had first struck up the alarm, but could learn nothing more than that some person had reported that the British were advancing against the American left. He then rode forward for some distance in front, and as he reached the rising ground he saw several columns of the enemy moving into a field of stand ing wheat to the left, about half a mile from the line of the American encamp ment. After getting into the field, the British troops formed a double line, and the soldiers sat down, with their muskets between their knees, while the foragers began to cut the wheat. Some of their officers in the meantime had mounted a hut, and with their glasses were striving to reconnoitre the American left, which was almost hid from their view by the intervening forests. Wilkinson now galloped back to head quarters, and reported to Gates what he had seen. "What do they seem to be doing?" asked the general. " They are foraging, and endeavoring to reconnoitre your left ; and I think, sir, they offer you battle." " What is the nature of the ground, and what your opinion ?" rejoined Gates. " Their front is open, and their flanks rest on woods, under cover of which they may be attacked ; their right is skirted by a lofty height," answered Wilkinson. " I would indulge them," he added. " Well, then, order on Morgan to begin the game," was the reply ; when Wilkin son immediately galloped off to do as he was bidden. The British commander, having left Generals Hamilton and Specht to guard his line on the plain, and General Gall the fortifications on the flats bordering the Hudson river, had advanced with fif teen hundred men, under the several com mands of Generals Fraser, Phillips, and De Reidesel, and ten pieces of artillery, to the right of his encampment, and about half a mile beyond the American left. Burgoyne was now stationed where Wil kinson had observed him, in the wheat field. The foragers having supplied them selves, and Burgoyne having sent forward a party of Canadians and Indians, began to deploy his troops into line. In his centre were placed some British and Ger man regiments, under Phillips and De Reidesel ; on his left the grenadiers and artillery, under Majors Ackland and Wil liams, bordering a wood and a small ra vine, through which flowed a rivulet ; on his extreme right was Lord Balcarras, with the English light-infantry, and five hundred men in advance led by General Fraser, the latter being covered by the well-wooded heights on the west of the camp, and by a " worm-fence." The Canadians and Indians, being now pushed forward, commenced an irregular attack upon the advanced pickets on the American left. They succeeded in dri ving the guards before them close to the American redoubt called " Fort Neilson," which had been raised by Gates to pro tect his left toward the hills. Colonel Morgan, however, having received orders revolutionary.] SECOND BATTLE OF BEMIS'S HEIGHTS. 41 to march, was leading his riflemen through the woods, in order to' gain the heights to the right of the enemy, when he came upon the Indian and Canadian party, and soon forced it back to the British lines. Morgan now continued his circuitous route through the woods, and was hast ening to begin his attack ; while General Gates, as had been agreed upon, was wait ing for him to come up with the enemy's right before he himself should send out a force against their left. Sufficient time had elapsed for Morgan to make his cir cuit, and Gates now accordingly ordered General Poor's brigade of New- York and New-Hampshire troops to move against Burgoyne's left flank and front. The two attacks were made simultane ously. Morgan had reached the heights in the very nick of time, and from the cover of the woods poured down upon the enemy below a torrent of fire. The English lightinfantry, under General Fra ser, taken on their flank,were manoeuvring to change their front in order to meet the shock, when at this moment Major Dearborn (who was Morgan's second in command) pushed his corps rapidly for ward. -After delivering a close and mur derous fire, the men leaped the " worm- fence," and, charging with a loud shout, forced the British to retire. The young earl of Balcarras, however, coming up to the aid of Fraser, the men were rallied, and renewed the struggle. General Fraser, in the full uniform of a British field-officer, and mounted upon a fine gray horse, was soon a marked object to the American riflemen. One rifle-ball had already cut in two the crupper, and another had passed through the mane of his charger; when his aid-de-camp, observ ing his danger, rode up to his side, and begged that, as the marksmen were cer tainly singling him out, he would take a less exposed position. " My duty forbids me to fly from danger," firmly answered the brave Fraser ; and he fell almost as he spoke. Morgan, having called two or three of his best marksmen to his side, and, point ing to the doomed Briton, had said : " Do you see that gallant officer ? That is Gen eral Fraser. I respect and honor him; but it is necessary he should die !" He fell, as we have seen, mortally wounded, and was carried off the field. Fraser's loss was deeply felt by the British troops ; but Lord Balcarras spiritedly urged them on to revenge his death, and they strug gled manfully to hold their ground. In the meantime, General Poor's bri gade advanced steadily and silently, for each soldier had been ordered not to fire a shot until the first discharge from the enemy. The British grenadiers and ar tillery are drawn up on a rising ground to the left of Burgoyne, and grim as the solemn pines which cover them, stand with poised musket and loaded cannon, ready to begin their work of death upon the approaching columns. The Ameri cans reach the slope, and are rapidly but deliberately marching up, when the ene my open their fire. The Americans now pour back a volley in return, and, with out faltering, push right on, with a loud hurrah. They rush up the hill, driving the grenadiers before them, and strug gling hand to hand with the artillerymen 42 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. for the possession of the cannon. The enemy rally and come back again to the attack, and the conflict is renewed with greater fierceness than ever ; when final ly the Americans gain possession of the ground, and the British are driven within their encampment. The spectacle which presented itself on this part of the field of battle at that moment was a mingled one of tragic hor ror and wild excitement. Upon the earth, within the space of ten or fifteen yards, were stretched eighteen grenadiers in the agonies of death. Three British officers, two of them mortally wounded and bleed ing profusely,lay with their heads propped up against some stumps of trees. Colonel Cilley, of New Hampshire, straddling a brass twelve-pounder, loudly exulted in its capture ; while a surgeon, who was dressing a wound, raised his bloody hands, exclaiming, " I have dipped my hands in British blood !" Such was the scene, as he tells us, wit nessed by General Wilkinson, when he came up with Ten Broeck's brigade of militia, which he had been sent for to reinforce General Poor's division, and aid in the pursuit of the retreating enemy. As he rode on, Wilkinson saw another and sadder spectacle still. " Turning my eyes," says he, " it was my fortune to ar rest the purpose of a lad, thirteen or four teen years old, in the act of taking aim at a wounded officer who lay in the angle of a worm-fence. Inquiring his rank, he answered, ' I had the honor to command the grenadiers.' Of course, I knew him to be Major Ackland, who had been brought from the field to this place on the back of a Captain Shimpton of his own corps, under a heavy fire, and was here depos ited to save the lives of both. I dismount ed, took him by the hand, and expressed the hope that he was not badly wounded. ' Not badly,' he replied, ' but very incon veniently ; I am shot through both legs. Will you, sir, have the goodness to have me conveyed to your camp ?' " Wilkin son, having ordered his servant to alight from his horse, they lifted Ackland into the saddle, and sent him to the American headquarters. When the fresh reinforcement of three thousand New-York militia, under Ten Broeck, together with Learned's brigade, came up, the action became general. Mor gan was slowly but surely forcing the enemy's right before him ; their left had given way before Poor's brigade; but the British grenadiers were disputing ev ery inch of ground as they retired : and now the reserved troops sent forward by General Gates were hotly engaged with Burgoyne's centre, principally composed of Hessians, and led by the commander- in-chief himself. General Arnold, who had remained in the camp, as he declared he would, was without command. When the battle be gan, however, his impetuous nature fret ted greatly against the constraint of his position. On the first beat to arms, he mounted his black horse, and rode about the camp, talking loudly and fiercely of his wrongs, and, brandishing his sword, threatened vengeance against those who had dared to revile and injure him. Such was his state of excitement, that it was believed that, in his attempt to drown his revolutionary.] MAD PRANKS OF ARNOLD.— THE VICTORY. 43 troubles in wine, he had drunk so freely as to lose all self-control. Dashing about thus, in wild agitation, he no sooner saw that the engagement with the enemy had become general, than he spurred his horse furiously into the midst of the fight, where General Learned's brigade on the left — which had belonged to Arnold's own di vision — was bravely struggling with the Hessians, who formed the British centre. Here Arnold assumed the command, and, riding in front along the line, he led the American troops forward again and again, and broke the ranks of the Germans at every charge. But, gallantly as his men pushed on, nothing seemed to satisfy the mad fury of their commander, who con tinued to dash about wildly, spurring his charger to the height of his speed, and, flourishing his sword, fiercely to call upon his troops to come on. In his mad ex citement, he became so beside himself, that he struck one of the officers upon the head and severely wounded him, with out being conscious (as he afterward de clared) of the act. On the impulse of the moment, the officer raised his fusee to shoot Arnold, but, suddenly checking him self, he began to remonstrate ; when the general was off again, digging the spurs into his horse, and riding to another part of the field, like a madman. General Gates being told of the erratic movements of Arnold, sent Major Arm strong after him, with orders. Arnold, however, as soon as he caught a glimpse of him, and probably aware of his object, only quickened the speed of his horse, and led the major such a break-neck chase hither and thither, that he was fain to give up the pursuit. He was now on the American right, and again in a moment to the extreme left, having dashed along the whole length of the line, between the fires of the two armies, without receiving a wound or even the graze of a shot. Morgan and Dearborn, on the Ameri can left, had succeeded in driving Lord Balcarras and his lightinfantry within their intrenchments. Arnold dashed up, and, calling upon a company of riflemen in advance to follow him, strove to force his way into the enemy's camp. Finding his efforts foiled here by the gallant re sistance of Balcarras, he turned his horse and galloped to his left, where Lieuten ant Colonel Brooks was storming the ex treme right of the British fortifications, held by a reserve of Hessians, under Lieu tenantColonel Breyman. In spite oiabat- tis and redoubts, the Germans are obliged to give way, having first lost their spir ited commander; and Arnold is among the first to dash with his horse through a sally-port right in the midst of the en emy, who fire a last volley as they retire, killing Arnold's black charger, and stretch ing his rider upon the ground with a shot in the same knee which was wounded at Quebec. By this success of the Americans on the extreme right, the whole British en campment was laid open ; but, as night was rapidly coming on, and the troops were fatigued by hard fighting, General Gates did not further push his advantage, but remained satisfied with the glorious victory of the day. 44 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part il CHAPTER LX. Comparative Strength of the two Armies. — The Killed and Wounded. — The British retreat. — A Trying Night. — The Baroness Reidesel. — Her Sad Experiences. — Lady Harriet Ackland. — A Wife mourning for her Lord. — The Death of General Fraser. — His Burial. — Honors to a Gallant Enemy. — A Dismal Night. — The Journey of the Baroness Reidesel. — Her Husband and Children. — An Expected Attack. — Saving the Valuables. — The Baroness in Trouble. — General Gates takes Possession of the Abandoned Intrenchments. — Lady Ackland. — Woman's Devotion. — Visit to the American Camp. — A tolerably Comfortable Night. — A Happy Meeting. — Continued Retreat of the British. — Pur suit by Gates. — Headquarters in a Hovel. — Alarm of the Enemy. — Further Trials of the Baroness. — A "Horrid Situation." 1777. The second battle near Bemis's Oct. 7. heights had lasted from noon until night. General Gates had undoubtedly much the superior force, although the numbers on both sides actually engaged in the fight were near ly equal. General Burgoyne's whole ar my amounted to less than six thousand ; that of Gates to two or three thousand more than that number. The loss of the former in killed, wounded, and prisoners, was about seven hundred, among whom were a number of officers of high rank, in cluding General Fraser, LieutenantColo nel Breyman, Sir Francis Clarke, an aid of Burgoyne, and others. Burgoyne him self was greatly exposed ; his hat was shot through, and his waistcoat torn by a ball. The Americans lost but one hun dred and fifty in killed and wounded ; General Arnold was the only commis sioned officer who even received a con tusion, and he was without a command. Burgoyne, finding his position untenable, broke up his camp and moved his whole army in the midst of the night after the battle, to some heights near the river Hudson, and about Oct. 7. a mile to the northward of his former en campment. The trials and incidents of that night have been recorded in affect ing words by the baroness Reidesel, who entered in her narrative the events of the whole day as well as of the night. " Se vere trials," she writes, " awaited us ; and on the 7th of October our misfortunes began. I was at breakfast with my hus band, and heard that something was in tended. On the same day I expected Generals Burgoyne, Phillips, and Fraser, to dine with us. I saw a great move ment among the troops : my husband told me it was merely a reconnoissance, which gave me no concern, as it often happened. I walked out of the house and met sev eral Indians, in their war-dresses, with guns in their hands. When I asked them where they were going, they cried out, ' War ! war !' (meaning that they were going to battle). This filled me with ap prehension, and I had scarcely got home before I heard reports of cannon and mus ketry, which grew louder by degrees, till at last the noise became excessive. " About four o'clock in the afternoon, instead of the guests whom I expected, revolutionary.] THE BARONESS REIDESEL.— DEATH OF FRASER. 45 General Fraser was brought on a litter, mortally wounded. The table, which was already set, was instantly removed, and a bed placed in its stead for the wounded general. I sat trembling in a corner ; the noise grew louder and the alarm increased. The thought that my husband might per haps be brought in, wounded in the same manner, was terrible to me, and distressed me exceedingly. General Fraser said to the surgeon : ' Tell me if my wound is mortal ; do not flatter me.' The ball had passed through his body, and unhappily for the general he had eaten a very hearty breakfast, by which the stomach was dis tended ; and the ball, as the surgeon said, had passed through it. I heard him often exclaim, with a sigh : ' 0 fatal ambition ! Poor General Burgoyne ! 0 my poor wife !' He was asked if he had any re quest to make, to which he replied that, 'if General Burgoyne would permit it, he should like to be buried at six o'clock in the evening, on the top of a mountain, in a redoubt which had been built there.' " I did not know which way to turn ; all the other rooms were full of sick. Tow ard evening I saw my husband coming ; then I forgot all my sorrows, and thanked God that he was spared to me. He ate in great haste, with me and his aid-de camp, behind the house. We had been told that wre had the advantage of the enemy, but the sorrowful faces I beheld told a different tale ; and before my hus band went away, he took me on one side, and said everything was going very bad ; that I must keep myself in readiness to leave the place, but not to mention it to any one. I made the pretence that I 71 would move the next morning into my new house, and had everything packed Up ready. " Lady Harriet Ackland had a tent not far from our house ; in this she slept, and the rest of the day she was in the camp. All of a sudden, a man came to tell her that her husband was mortally wounded, and taken prisoner. On hearing this, she became very miserable. We comforted her by telling her that the wound was only slight, and at the same time advised her to go over to her husband, to do which she would certainly obtain permission, and then she could attend him herself. She was a charming woman, and very fond of him. I spent much of the night in comforting her, and then went again to my children, whom I had put to bed. " I could not go to sleep, as I had Gen eral Fraser and all the other wounded gentlemen in my room ; and I was sadly afraid my children would awake, and by their crying disturb the dying man in his last moments, who often addressed me, and apologized ' for the trouble he gave me.' About three o'clock in the morn ing I was told he could not hold out much longer. I had desired to be informed of the near approach of this sad crisis ; and I then wrapped up my children in their clothes, and went with them into the room below. About eight o'clock in the morn ing he died. . . . . " The corpse was brought out, and we saw all the generals attend it to the mountain ; the chaplain, Mr. Bru- denell, performed the funeral ser vice, rendered unusually solemn and aw ful from its being accompanied by con- Oct. 8. 46 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. stant peals from the enemy's artillery. Many cannon-balls flew close by me, but I had my eyes directed toward the mount ain,where my husband was standing, amid the fire of the enemy, and of course I could not think of my own danger." General Burgoyne had not hesitated to grant the dying request of his brave and true-hearted friend, notwithstanding the delay and inconvenience which it caused to the retreat he contemplated. Burgoyne has also left a touching description of the scene of the burial of General Fraser, and recorded his admiration and love for the gallant soldier : " The incessant cannon ade during the ceremony ; the steady at titude and unaltered voice with which the chaplain officiated, though frequently cov ered with dust which the shot threw up on all sides of him ; the mute but expres sive mixture of sensibility and indigna tion upon every countenance ; these ob jects will remain to the last of life upon the mind of every man who was present. The growing darkness added to the scene ry, and the whole marked a character of that juncture which would make one of the finest subjects for the pencil of a mas ter that the field ever exhibited. To the canvas and to the faithful page of a more important historian, gallant friend ! I con sign thy memory. There may thy tal ents, thy manly virtues, their progress and their period, find due distinction; and long may they survive — long after the frail record of my pen shall be forgotten !" The firing from the American lines was in consequence of ignorance of the object of the gathering upon the height. When it was discovered, the artillery no longer Oct. 8. threw hostile shot, but discharged minute- guns in honor of the memory of Fraser, whose gallantry was acknowledged both by friend and foe. As soon as Burgoyne had paid the last sad duties to his brave comrade, he began his retreat. The fires in the old camp were left burning,and some tents standing ; and orders were given to the troops to move in profound silence. The night was stormy ; the rain poured in torrents, and it was with the greatest difficulty that the weak and half-starved horses could draw the baggage-wagons over the broken roads in which the wheels sank deep into the mire. Constant halts took place, to give the wearied troops moments of rest, and to bring up by the river the lagging boats, laden with the artillery and stores. The sad march con tinued from time to time throughout that dismal night. Burgoyne had left his sick and wound ed behind him, in the hospital in his late camp, with a letter to Gates, commend ing them to the protection " which I feel," wrote the British commander, " I should show to an enemy in the same case." Some of the wounded officers, however, in spite of their injuries, crept from their beds, and determined, rather than stay behind, to suffer all the tortures of a pain ful journey. The officers' wives who were with the army were sent on in advance. The baroness Reidesel's calash was made ready for her, but she would not consent to go before the troops. The baron, see ing her thus exposed to danger by re maining in the rear, ordered the children and servants into the carriage, and inti- REVOLUTIONARY.] GENERAL BURGOYNE RETREATS. 47 Oct. 9. mated to his wife to follow and depart without delay. " I still prayed," says the baroness, " to remain ; but my husband, knowing my weak side, said, ' Well, then, your children must go, that at least they may be safe from danger.' " She then con sented, got into her calash, and drove off At six o'clock the next morn ing there was a full halt. " The delay," says the baroness (whose anxie ties were naturally for her husband and her children), "seemed to displease every body ; for, if we could have only made another good march, we should have been in safety." Burgoyne was, however, pru dently preparing against the chances of attack from his triumphant enemy in the rear. He halted in order to count and range his cannon, and to bring his strag gling troops out of the confusion unavoid able in a hurried retreat. He soon found reason for his discretion ; for he had hard ly begun his march, when the alarm was given that the enemy were in sight. A halt was again immediately ordered ; but it was soon discovered that the fright had come from a small reconnoitring-party of Americans, only two hundred strong. In the meantime, however, the retreat ing army expected an engagement, and prepared for the worst. Some of the Ger man officers collected their valuables, and strove to place them in security, so that their property might have a chance of safety, whatever might be the risks to which their lives were exposed. " Cap tain Willoe," says the baroness, " brought me a bag full of bank-notes, and Captain Geismar his elegant watch, a ring, and a purse full of money, which they request ed me to take care of, and which I prom ised to do to the utmost of my power." The army, nevertheless, soon recovered from its fright,and moved slowly on again. But the poor baroness, with the anxieties for her husband, the care of her little chil dren, and her despairing servants, was overwhelmed with trouble. " One of my waiting-women," she says, " was in a state of despair which approached to madness. She cursed, and tore her hair ; and when I attempted to reason with her, and to pacify her, she asked me if I was not grieved at our situation; and, upon my saying, ' I am,' she tore her cap off her head, and let her hair drop over her face, saying to me : ' It is very easy for you to be composed and talk ; you have your husband with you : I have none, and what remains to me but the prospect of perish ing, or losing all I have ?' " All that the baroness could do was to bid her take comfort, and promise that she should be compensated for all her losses. " About evening," continues the baron ess, " we arrived at Saratoga. My dress was wet through and through with rain, and in that state I had to remain the whole night, having no place to change it. I, however, got close to a large fire, and at last lay down on some straw. At this moment, General Phillips came up to me, and I asked him why we had not continued our retreat, as my hus band had promised to cover it, and bring the army through. ' Poor, dear woman,' said he, ' I wonder how, drenched as you are, you have the courage still to perse vere and venture farther in this kind of weather. I wish,' continued he, ' you were Oct. 9. 48 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. Oct. 9. our commanding general : General Bur goyne is tired, and means to halt here to night and give us our supper.' " On the morning after Burgoyne's re treat, the whole of Gates's army, with the exception of the camp -guards, moved forward and took posses sion of the enemy's abandoned intrench ments. The British commander was still in the position, on the heights, which he had taken on the night of the battle. Du ring the day while he remained, previous to beginning his retreat, a desultory fire was kept up between the pickets of the opposing camps ; and General Lincoln, while reconnoitring, had his leg broken by a shot from the enemy. Burgoyne, as we have seen, was allowed to begin his retreat on the night of the 8th of Octo ber, without interruption ; for Gates pru dently avoided an engagement, and de termined so to surround his enemy as to- force him to a surrender. He according ly, when Burgoyne was retreating, sent off General Fellows, with a detachment of fourteen hundred militia, to cross the Hudson, and post themselves on the high ground, on the eastern bank of the river, opposite to Saratoga, and at a ford where the British would desire to cross. Other troops were also detached to Fishkill; while Fort Edward, on the Hudson, and Fort George, on Lake George, to the north of Saratoga, were already held by Colonel Cochrane, in command of a force which was daily gathering strength from the flocking in of the militia of the whole country round. General Gates, with his main body, re mained quietly for two days in the camp Oct. 9. abandoned by Burgoyne. " The weath er," says Wilkinson, "was unfavorable, the commissariat dilatory, and the men seem ed to prefer repose to action." The delay fretted the young deputy adjutantgener- al, but Gates was unmoved, and was calm ly and discreetly abiding his time. An incident now occurred which brings again to our notice one of the gentle wo men of whom we have already had so much to say, to whose constant heroism of woman's love during these trying times we all eagerly turn, from the hot bravery flushing up in the angry paroxysms of the battle-struggle. Lady Harriet Ackland, when she heard that her husband (Major Ackland, of the grenadiers) was wounded and a prison er, was determined to go to him, as she had done when he was a sufferer before, and by her sympathy and her tender care soothe him whom she loved so deeply. When she sent to Burgoyne, asking per mission to proceed to the American camp, he was greatly surprised. " Though I was ready to believe," he says, " that patience and fortitude, in a supreme degree, were to be found, as well as every other virtue, under the most tender forms, I was as tonished at this proposal. After so long an agitation of spirits, exhausted not only for want of rest, but absolutely want of food, drenched in rains for twelve hours together — that a woman should be ca pable of such an undertaking as deliver ing herself to an enemy, probably in the night, and uncertain of what hands she might fall into, appeared an effort above human nature. The assistance I was en abled to give was small indeed ; I had not REVOLUTIONARY.] LADY HARRIET ACKLAND. 49 even a cup of wine to offer her : but I was told she had found, from some kind and fortunate hand, a little rum and dirty water. All I could furnish to her was an open boat, and a few lines (written upon dirty, wet paper) to General Gates, rec ommending her to his protection." On the " dirty, wet paper" the British commander-in-chief wrote as follows, in a rapid scrawl : — " Sir : Lady Harriet Ackland, a lady of the first distinction by family, rank, and by personal virtues, is under such concern on account of Major Ackland her husband, wounded and a prisoner in your hands, that I can not refuse her request to com mit her to your protection. " Whatever general impropriety there may be in persons acting in your situa tion and mine to solicit favors, I can not see the uncommon perseverance in every female grace and exaltation of character of this lady, and her very hard fortune, without testifying that your attentions to her will lay me under obligation. " I am, sir, your obedient servant, "J. Burgoyne. " October 9, 1777. " Major-General Gates." Lady Ackland, thus provided, set out in the midst of a storm of rain, on her trying journey, in an open boat upon the Hudson. Mr. Brudenell, the chaplain, had offered to accompany her; and he, to gether with a waiting-maid, and her hus band's body-servant (who had still a ball in his shoulder, which he had received while searching for his master on the bat tie-field), were her only companions. It was at dusk in the evening when she be gan her journey, and it was late at night when she reached the American outposts. A sentinel, hearing the oars of the boat, challenged it, when Mr. Brudenell, the chaplain, called out that he bore a flag of truce from General Burgoyne. The sol dier, fearful of treachery, and threatening to shoot them should they land, kept them off until he had sent word to Major Henry Dearborn, who commanded the American advanced guard. The major, upon learning that there was a lady in the boat, immediately pre pared to receive her. His guard occupied a log-cabin, in which there was a back apartment appropriated to his own use. This he had cleared for her reception, and orders were given that the party should be allowed to land. Upon reaching the cabin, Lady Ackland was assured of her husband's safety ; and a fire having been lighted, and a cup of tea made, she was enabled to pass the night with tolerable comfort. Early the next morn- ing, the party again embarked, and sailed down the river to the Ameri can camp, " where General Gates, whose gallantry will not be denied," says Wil kinson, " stood ready to receive her with all the tenderness and respect to which her rank and condition gave her a claim. Indeed, the feminine figure, the benign as pect, and polished manners, of this charm ing woman, were alone sufficient to attract the sympathy of the most obdurate ; but if another motive could have been want ing to inspire respect, it was furnished by the peculiar circumstances of Lady Har riet, then in that most delicate situation, 50 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. which can not fail to interest the solici tudes of every being possessing the form and feelings of a man." Her wounded husband, Major Ackland, had already been conveyed to Albany, where Lady Harriet proceeded immedi ately to join him, and had the happiness of finding that his wound was not mortal, and that he was rapidly recovering from its effects* General Burgoyne did not remain long at Saratoga, but, having refreshed his ar my after its painful march with a few hours of such repose as his troops could obtain by throwing themselves on the wet ground during the pelting rain, he began to continue his retreat to the northward before break of day. A detach ment of Americans had reached the ground, on the bank of the Fishkill, * The subsequent history of Lady Harriet and Major Ack land was thus first told by Wilkinson, and has been adopted by most other writers: "Ackland, after his return to Eng land, procured a regiment ; and at a dinner of military men, where the courage of Americans was made a question, took the negative side with his usual decision ; he was opposed, warmth ensued, and he gave the lie direct to a Lieutenant Lloyd, fought him, and was shot through the head. Lady Harriet lost her senses, and continued deranged two years ; after which, I have been informed," continues Wilkinson, " she married Mr. Brudenell, who accompanied her from General Burgoyne's camp, when she sought her wounded husband on the Hudson's river." This story, however, is now contradicted ; and it is declared, apparently on good authority, that Major Ackland did not fight a duel, and was not killed ; that Lady Harriet did not become insane, and did not marry the chaplain, Mr. Brudenell. " Major John Dyke Ackland," says Lossing, in his Life of Washington, " was the eldest son of Sir Thomas Dyke Ackland. He died from the effects of his wounds received at Saratoga, Novem ber, 1778. His wife, the ' Right Honorable Lady Harriet Ackland,' was sister of the earl of Ilchester, and mother of the late countess of Carnarvon. Lady Ackland survived her husband many years, and, contrary to the generally- received opinion, appears to have remained his widow until her death, on the 21st of July, 1815. . . . Lady Ackland and the eminent Charles James Fox were cousins." — (See Amer ican Historical Magazine, New York, vol. ii., p. 121.) before the British commander; and, al though on his advance, they had retreat ed to the opposite side of the river, where General Fellows was posted on the heights with his fifteen hundred men, they had taken care to break down the bridges. Burgoyne was thus delayed in getting his baggage and artillery over the Fish- kill, which small stream, running into the Hudson from west to east, stretched di rectly across his route. After destroying the buildings on the south bank, among which were the house and mills belonging to General Schuyler, the British crossed over and posted themselves on the heights north of the Fishkill, where they at once began to intrench their camp. General Gates, in the meantime, drew near in pursuit; although, in consequence of the heavy rains, and some delay in wait ing for supplies, he did not march before the afternoon of the 10th of October. By four o'clock, however, he reached Sarato ga, and took his position on the wooded heights, about a mile south of the Fish kill, separated from Burgoyne's camp by this small stream. The general's own quar ters were humble enough, being in a small hovel about ten feet square, situated at the foot of a hill, out of which it had been partially scooped. The floor was simply the ground, and Gates's pallet was spread upon rude boards, supported by four fork ed pieces of timber, with cross-pieces, in one corner; while Wilkinson, with his saddle for a pillow, lay upon the straw in another. Finding the enemy still busy in moving their stores, Gates ordered out two light fieldpieces, to disperse a fatigue- party engaged in unloading the batteaux revolutionary.] THE BARONESS REIDESEL IN A CELLAR. 51 which had followed Burgoyne up the Hudson. The object was attained ; but Major Stevens, who was serving the field- pieces, was soon obliged to withdraw, by a severe cannonade from the whole park of the enemy's artillery. To the baroness Reidesel's narrative we must again recur for a true impression of passing events in the British camp. " The greatest misery," she says, " at this time prevailed in the army, and more than thirty officers came to me, for whom tea and coffee was prepared, and with whom I shared all my provisions, with which my calash was in general well supplied ; for I had a cook who was an excellent caterer, and who often in the night crossed small rivers and foraged on the inhabitants, bringing in with him sheep, small pigs, and poultry, for which he very often for got to pay, though he received good pay from me, as long as I had any, and was ultimately handsomely rewarded. Our provisions now failed us for want of prop er conduct in the commissary's depart ment, and I began to despair. " About two o'clock in the af ternoon, we again heard a firing of cannon and small-arms. Instantly all was alarm, and everything in motion. My husband told me to go to a house not far off I immediately seated myself in my calash with my children, and drove off; but scarcely had we reached it, be fore I discovered five or six armed men on the other side of the Hudson. Instinct ively I threw my children down in the calash, and then concealed myself with them. At that moment the fellows fired, and wounded an already wounded Eng- Oct. 11. lish soldier, who was behind me. Poor fellow ! I pitied him exceedingly, but at that moment had no means or power to relieve him. " A terrible cannonade was commenced by the enemy, which was directed against the house in which I sought to obtain shelter for myself and children, under the mistaken idea that all the generals were in it. Alas ! it contained none but wound ed and women. We were at last obliged to resort to the cellar for refuge ; and in one corner of this I remained the whole day, my children sleeping on the earth with their heads in my lap, and in the same situation I passed a sleepless night. Eleven cannon-balls passed through the house, and we could distinctly hear them roll away. One poor soldier, who was ly ing on a table, for the purpose of having his leg amputated,* was struck by a shot which carried away his other. His com rades had left him, and when we went to his assistance we found him in a corner of the room, into which he had crept more dead than alive, scarcely breathing. My reflections on the danger to which my husband was exposed now agonized me exceedingly; and the thoughts of my children, and the necessity of struggling for their preservation, alone sustained me. " The ladies of the army who were with me were, Mrs. Hamage, a Mrs. Kennels, the widow of a lieutentant who was killed, and the wife of the commissary. Major Hamage, his wife, and Mrs. Kennels, made a little room in a corner, with curtains to it, and wished to do the same for me ; but I preferred being near the door, in case of fire. Not far off my maid slept, and 52 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. opposite to us three English officers, who, though wounded, were determined not to be left behind ; one of them was Captain Greene, an aid-de-camp to Major Phillips, a very valuable officer and most agreea ble man. They each made me a most sacred promise not to leave me behind ; and, in case of a sudden retreat, that they would each of them take one of my chil dren on his horse : and, for myself, one of my husband's was in constant readi ness. " Our cook, I have before mentioned, procured us our meals, but we were in want of water ; and I was often obliged to drink wine, and to give it to my chil dren. It was the only thing my husband took — which made our faithful hunter (Rockel) express one day his apprehen sions that ' the general was weary of his life, or fearful of being taken, as he drank so much wine.' The constant danger which my husband was in, kept me in a state of wretchedness ; and I asked myself if it was possible I should be the only happy one, and have my husband spared to me unhurt, exposed as he was to so many perils. He never entered his tent, but lay down whole nights by the watch-fires. This alone was enough to have killed him, the cold was so intense. "The want of water distressed us much. At length we found a soldier's wife, who had courage enough to fetch us some from the river, an office nobody else would un dertake, as the Americans shot at every person who approached it ; but, out of re spect for her sex, they never molested her. " I now occupied myself through the day in attending the wounded. I made them tea and coffee, and often shared my dinner with them, for which they offered me a thousand expressions of gratitude. One day, a Canadian officer came to our cellar, who had scarcely the power of holding himself upright, and we con cluded he was dying for want of nourish ment. I was happy in offering him my dinner, which strengthened him, and pro cured me his friendship. I now under took the care of Major Bloomfield, anoth er aid-de-camp of General Phillips. He had received a musketball through both cheeks, which in its course had knocked out several of his teeth and cut his tongue. He could hold nothing in his mouth ; the matter which ran from his mouth almost choked him, and he was not able to take any nourishment except a little soup or something liquid. We had some Rhenish wine, and, in the hope that the acidity of it would cleanse his wound, I gave him a bottle of it ; he took a little now and then, and with such effect, that his cure soon followed. Thus I added another to my stock of friends, and derived a satis faction which, in the midst of sufferings, served to tranquillize me, and diminish their acuteness. "One day, General Phillips accompa nied my husband, at the risk of their lives, on a visit to us, who, after having wit nessed our situation, said to him : ' I would not for ten thousand guineas come again to this place ; my heart is almost broken !' In this horrid situation we remained six days." REVOLUTIONARY.] BURGOYNE'S DESPERATE SITUATION. 53 CHAPTER LXI. Desperate Situation of General Burgoyne. — Desperate Expedients. — A Masked Movement. — The Americans tricked. — A Skirmish with the Pickets. — The British surrounded. — Despair of Burgoyne. — Proposals to negotiate. — The Terms settled. — Surrender of Burgoyne. — Convention not Capitulation. — News from Sir Henry Clinton. — Too late. — Fresh Beef. — The Baroness Reidesel refreshed. — The Convention signed. — Meeting of Burgoyne and Gates. — Splendor and Simplicity. — The Formalities of the Surrender. — The British Commander pleads Illness. — The " Stars and Stripes" for the First Time. — The Adventures of the Baroness continued. — Courtesy of General Schuyler. — French Gallantry. — Kindness of Schuyler. — The Numbers surrendered. — The News of Victory reaches Congress. — Gates moves toward the Hudson. — Retreat of General Vaughan. — The Result of the Surrender at Saratoga. — Its Effect in France, Eng land, and throughout Europe. — The Earl of Chatham. — "You can not conquer America!" 1777. General Burgoyne was now in a desperate position, with a powerful body of Americans under General Fellows extending beyond his left flank, on the eastern bank of the Hudson; with the country before him, toward the north, filled with provincials, who held Fort Ed ward, and swarmed in every mountain- pass and forestpath which led to Fort George, and even to the borders of Lake Champlain ; and with a triumphant ene my behind him. His situation was des perate, and his plans for extrication equal ly so. He proposed to ascend the Hud son, along the western bank, where he was now posted, to Fort George, at the southern end of the lake of that name. A rugged country, with mountains, mo rasses, ravines, and deep streams, was be fore him. Roads were to be made and bridges built by an army half famished and threatened on all sides by a numer ous and triumphant enemy. Great as were the obstacles, the British general made the attempt to overcome them. He sent out working-parties to open roads and construct bridges ; but the American 72 riflemen were everywhere on the alert, and from each rocky defile and forest covert came the fatal bullets : and, after one day's trial, Burgoyne's artificers were forced to retire to the cover of the camp, and give up all hope of the route to Fort George by the western bank of the Hud son. Burgoyne now hit upon the desperate expedient of marching his army a short distance along the Hudson, and forcing his passage across that river in the very face of the large body of Americans on the eastern bank. Making up his mind to abandon the artillery, and giving each man his share of the few days' provisions which were all that were left to carry in his knapsack on his back, he hoped that his troops, by dint of personal daring and physical endurance, might succeed in working their way to Fort Edward and the lakes, and thence by a circuitous route find safety in Canada. With this object in view, Burgoyne sent a detachment up the river in ad vance, intending to follow with the whole. of his army in the course of the night. Oct. 10. 54 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. This movement almost proved fatal to Gates. Intelligence was brought late at night into the American camp that the main body of the British had abandoned their intrenchments on the north side of the Fishkill, and were marching to Fort Ed ward. Gates accordingly ordered Mor gan, with his rifle-corps, and Nixon and Glover, with their brigades, to cross the Fishkill at break of day, and attack the enemy's encampment, supposed to be de fended merely by a rear-guard. Oct. 11. , Ine morning, as is common at that season of the year, opened with a dense fog ; but the alert Morgan had at the earliest hour groped his way across the stream, and was soon engaged with an advanced picket of the British on their right. The firing brought the brigades of Patterson and Learned to his support. Nixon, too, had crossed the Fishkill, to move against the centre of the enemy's camp ; Glover was about doing the same ; and General Gates had moved his whole army forward, prepared to follow, when a British soldier came wading through the water. He proved to be a deserter, and brought intelligence that Burgoyne was still in camp, with the main body of his troops. Glover immediately checked the march of his brigade, and strove to call back Nixon from the other side of the stream. At this moment the fog suddenly lifted and rolled away, and the day became clear, revealing the whole British army, drawn up in formidable array before their camp on the heights. Fifteen hundred Americans, under Nixon, had crossed the river, and were now brought face to face with the full force of the enemy, who im mediately began a heavy fire of artillery and musketry, which soon drove him back, and sent him with his scattered brigade across to the American encampment. Morgan and his riflemen, after their engagement with the advanced picket of the enemy, had warily moved, under cover of the fog, around Burgoyne's right, and taken their position on some heights in its rear, which they firmly held. The brigades of Patterson and Learned, which had gone to the support of Morgan, also succeeded, after a slight skirmish with an advanced party of the British, in gaining a strong position under the cover of a wood, and maintaining it, though on the same side of the Fishkill with Burgoyne's encampment. The two armies, thus drawn close to each other, kept up an incessant cannon ade ; but the British commander, finding himself completely hemmed in, and all resources of escape cut off but the chance of relief from Sir Henry Clinton (of which, after lingering so long in anxious expec tation, he now at last abandoned all hope), was in despair of saving his army. " A series of hard toil," wrote Burgoyne himself; " incessant effort, and stubborn ac tion, until disabled in the collateral branch es of the army by the total defection of the Indians ; the desertion or the timidity of the Canadians and provincials,some indi viduals excepted ; disappointed in the last hope of any co-operation from other ar mies; the regular troops reduced by losses from the best parts to thirty-five hundred fighting men, not two thousand of which REVOLUTIONARY.] SURRENDER OF GENERAL BURGOYNE. 55 Oct. 13. were British ; only three days' provisions, upon short allowance, in store ; invested by an army of sixteen thousand men, and no appearance of retreat remaining, I called into council all the generals, field- officers, and captains commanding corps, and by their unanimous concurrence and advice I was induced to open a treaty with Major-General Gates." While the council was in session, an eighteen-pound ball passed over the table, as there was not a spot of ground in the whole British camp which was not exposed to the fire of the Americans. It having been determined to open a treaty, Burgoyne imme diately wrote a note to General Gates, saying that he was desirous of sending a field-officer " upon a matter of high mo ment to both armies," and requesting to be informed at what time General Gates would receive him the next morning. A note in reply was promptly sent, in which Gates appointed ten o'clock as the hour. Accordingly, next morning, at the hour appointed, Major Kings ton presented himself at the American advanced post, and, being blindfolded, was led to headquarters, where he delivered the following message from the British to the American commander: "After hav ing fought you twice, Lie utenantGeneral Burgoyne has waited some days in his present position, determined to try a third conflict against any force you could bring against him. He is apprized of the supe riority of your numbers, and the disposi tion of your troops to impede his sup plies, and render his retreat a scene of carnage on both sides. In this situation he is impelled by humanity, and thinks himself justified by established principles and precedents of state and war, to spare the lives of brave men upon honorable terms. Should Major-General Gates be inclined to treat upon that idea, General Burgoyne would propose a cessation of arms during the time necessary to com municate the preliminary terms by which, in any extremity, he and his army mean to abide." Gates was prepared with his answer in advance ; and, as soon as Major Kingston had done, the general put his hand into his side-pocket, and, pulling out a paper, said, " There, sir, are the terms on which General Burgoyne mustsurrender."* The major was somewhat taken by surprise at the promptness of the reply, but read the paper, while Gates surveyed him cu riously through his spectacles. Kingston was not pleased with the terms, which proposed, " as Burgoyne's retreat was cut off," an unconditional surrender of his troops as prisoners-of-war ; and he at first objected to convey them to the British commander, but was finally prevailed up on. Kingston soon came back with a neg ative answer, and word from his general that he would never admit that his re treat was cut off while his troops had arms in their hands. Hostilities in the mean time ceased; and other proposals were then made, and passed backward and for ward, when finally, after a two or three days' delay, the following terms were agreed upon : — General Burgoyne's troops were to march out of their camp with all the hon- * Wilkinson. 56 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. Oct. 15. ors of war ; and the artillery to be moved to the banks of the Hudson river, and there left, together with the soldiers' arms, which were to be piled at the word of command from their own officers. It was agreed that a free passage to Great Britain should be granted to the troops, on condi tion of their not serving again in the pres ent contest ; that all officers should retain their baggage and side-arms, and not be separated from their men ; and that all, of whatever country they might be, fol lowing the camp, should be included in the terms of capitulation. The conditions of the surren der being settled, the two gener als were preparing to sign and carry out the terms of the treaty, and about to ex change signatures, when Burgoyne sent word to Gates that it had been unguard edly called a treaty of capitulation, while his army only meant it as a treaty of con vention. Gates, without hesitation, admit ted the alteration ; and the next day (the 16th) he was expecting to receive from the British commander a copy of the con vention, properly signed, when instead a note arrived, in which Burgoyne, having heard of the departure of some of the American militia (who, with their usual in dependence, had gone off without leave), declared he had "received intelligence that a considerable force had been de tached from the army under the command of Major-General Gates" during the ne gotiation, and in violation of the cessation of arms agreed upon. This gave rise to another delay; and, in the meanwhile, word was at last received at the British headquarters from Sir Henry Clinton. Burgoyne immediately called a coun cil of war, and submitted to it the ques tion " whether it was consistent with pub lic faith, and if so, expedient, to suspend the execution of the treaty, and trust to events." At this anxious moment there were those in the British camp who, hav ing, during the cessation of hostilities, mo mentarily enjoyed the blessings of repose and security, were in fearful alarm lest they should soon be again awakened to the horrors of the battle-field. " One day," says the baroness Reidesel, " a message was sent to my husband, who had visited me and was reposing in my bed, to attend a council of war, where it was proposed to break the convention ; but, to my great joy, the majority was for adhering to it. On the 16th, however, my husband had to repair to his post, and I to my cellar. This day fresh beef was served out to the officers, who until now had only salt provision, which was very bad for their wounds. The good woman who brought us water, made us an excel lent soup of the meat, but I had lost my appetite, and took nothing but crusts of bread dipped in wine. The wounded offi cers (my unfortunate companions) cut off the best bit and presented it to me on a plate. I declined eating anything ; but they contended that it was necessary for me to take nourishment, and declared they would not touch a morsel until I afforded them the pleasure of seeing me partake. I could no longer withstand their pressing invitations, accompanied as they were by assurances of the happiness they had in offering me the first good thing they had in their power ; and I par- ¦¦"'¦' . '¦¦¦iii & s m & A A i revolutionary.] INTERVIEW BETWEEN BURGOYNE AND GATES. 57 took of a repast rendered palatable by the kindness and good will of my fellow- sufferers, forgetting for the moment the misery of our apartment and the absence of almost every comfort." The British commander-in-chief, though himself inclined to believe that he might honorably withdraw from the convention, yielded to the majority of his officers, and signed it on the 17th of October. This was a happy moment for the baroness Reidesel. " General Burgoyne and the other generals," she says, " waited on the American general ; the troops laid down their arms, and gave themselves up pris- oners-of-war. And now the good woman who had supplied us with water, at the hazard of her life, received the reward of her services. Each of us threw a hand ful of money into her apron, and she got altogether about twenty guineas. At such a moment as this, how susceptible is the heart of feelings of gratitude !" The deputy adjutant-general, Wilkin son, was the master of ceremonies chosen to conduct the formalities of the surren der. He accordingly visited General Bur goyne in his camp, and returned with him to present him to Gen eral Gates. The British commander came dressed in a rich royal uniform, and sur rounded by a brilliant staff of officers, all mounted on horseback. On reaching the American headquarters, General Gates, in "a plain. blue frock," was on the ground, ready to receive his visiters, who, having approached within about a sword's length of him, reined up their horses. At this moment, General Burgoyne, " raising his hat most gracefully, said, ' The fortune of Oct. 17. war, General Gates, has made me your prisoner ;' to which the conqueror, return ing a courtly salute, replied, ' I shall al ways be ready to bear testimony that it has not been through any fault of your excellency.' " General Gates acted with great courte sy throughout, during these occurrences, so trying to the sensibilities of the brave soldier. Wilkinson was the only Ameri can who was allowed to witness the sur render of the British army. The spot having been first selected by him, Gener al Burgoyne's troops were drawn up on the level ground in front of Fort Hardy, on the north bank of the Fishkill, where that stream joins with the Hudson. Here the soldiers emptied their cartridge-boxes and grounded their arms at the word of command from their own officers. The place was, within sight of the American encampment; but Gates, with a courteous regard for the feelings of his gallant ene my, took care to order every man to keep within the lines, that there should be no exulting witness of the humiliation of the British troops. In the afternoon, the American army was drawn up in two lines, bordering the road which led to their encampment to the extent of a mile. The British troops now crossed the river, and, escorted by a company of light dragoons, were marched between the American soldiers, preceded by two American officers, unfurling for the first time the "stars and stripes;"* * In June, 1777, Congress first resolved that "the stars and stripes" should be uSed, but not unfurled until Septem ber. Previously the flag was the union one, with the com bined crosses of St. George and St. Andrew, and thirteen stripes, alternately red and white. 58 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. while the bands struck up the lively tune of " Yankee Doodle? Burgoyne, attended by his staff, was with Gates, in front of his marquee ; and, at the moment when his troops were filing between the Ameri can lines, he stepped back, drew his sword, and presented it to his victorious oppo nent. Gates received the sword with a courteous acknowledgment, and immedi ately returned it, when the two generals retired within the tent. The foreign soldiers, especially those of Germany, who had been drilled in all the stiff formalities of Prussian military regulation, were struck with the undress appearance of the American troops ; they observed that none of them were uniform ly clad, but that each had on the clothes he had worn in " the fields, the church, or the tavern." They could not, however, withhold their admiration of the natural good looks of "such a handsome, well- formed race," and were surprised at their conduct. "The men all stood so still, that we were filled with wonder. Not one of them made a single motion as if he would speak with his neighbor," was the testimony of one of the Brunswick- ers* The officers, in their motley dres ses — some in brown turned up with sea- green, some in buff-and-blue, some in home ly gray,but most in old-fashioned unkempt wigs and every-day dress, with only a white belt to distinguish their rank in the army — were the objects of great won der and hardly-suppressed merriment to the German military martinets.f Let us again trace the fortunes of that gentle and noblest of camp-followers, the * Quoted by Irving. t lb. baroness Reidesel: " My husband's groom," she says, " brought me a message to join him with my children. I seated myself once more in my dear calash, and then rode through the American camp. As I passed on, I observed (and this was a great consolation to me) that no one eyed me witli looks of resentment, but that they all greeted us, and even showed compas sion in their countenances at the sight of a mother with her children. I was, I con fess, afraid to go over to the enemy, as it was something quite new to me. When I drew near the tents, a handsome man approached and met me, took my children from the calash, and hugged and kissed them, which affected me almost to tears. ' You tremble,' said he, as he offered me his arm ; ' be not afraid.' — ' No,' I replied, ' you seem so kind and tender to my chil dren, it gives me courage.' He then con ducted me to the tent of General Gates, where I found Generals Burgoyne and Phillips on the most friendly footing with him. General Burgoyne said to me, 'Nev er mind now, your sorrows are all over.' I replied that I should be much to blame to have anxieties when he had none, and was on such friendly terms with General Gates. "All the generals remained to dine with General Gates. The same gentle man who had received me so kindly now came and said to me : ' You may feel em barrassed in dining with all these gentle men; come with your children to my tent, where you will find a frugal meal offered with the best will.' I replied, ' You must certainly be a husband and a father, you show me so much kindness.' He now revolutionary.] THE BARONESS REIDESEL AND GENERAL SCHUYLER. 59 told me that he was General Schuyler. He regaled me with excellent smoked tongue, beefsteaks, potatoes, and good bread and butter. I could not have de sired a better dinner. I was happy and contented, and saw that those about me were so likewise ; and, what was best of all, my husband was out of danger. "After dinner, General Schuyler told me that his residence was at Albany, that General Burgoyne had promised to be come his guest, and invited myself and children also. I consulted my husband, and he advised me to accept the invita tion. General Schuyler politely sent me back under the escort of a French gen tleman, who, after leaving me at the house where I was to remain, went back. "In the house I found a French sur geon, who had under his care a Bruns wick officer, who was mortally wounded, and died a few days afterward. The Frenchman boasted a good deal of his treatment of his patient, and possibly was skilful enough as a surgeon, but otherwise a great fool. He seemed delighted when he discovered I could speak his language. He began to address many empty and impertinent speeches to me. Among oth er things, he said he could not believe I was a general's wife, as he was certain a woman of such rank would not follow her husband. He expressed the wish that I would remain with him, as he said it was better to be with the conquerors than the conquered. I was shocked at his impu dence, but dared not show the contempt and detestation I felt for him, because it would deprive me of a place of safety. Toward evening he begged me to take part of his chamber. I told him that I was determined to remain in the room with the wounded officers, when he at tempted to pay me some stupid compli ment. At this moment the door opened, and my husband with his aid-de-camp en tered. I then said, ' Here, sir, is my hus band !' and at the same moment looked at him with scorn, when he retired abashed. He was, however, polite enough to offer us his chamber. " Soon after, we arrived at Albany — where we had so often wished ourselves — but we did not enter it as we expected we should, victors. We were received by the good General Schuyler, his wife, and daughters, not as enemies but kind friends, and they treated us with the most marked attention and politeness, as they did Gen eral Burgoyne, who had caused General Schuyler's handsome house to be burned. In fact, they behaved like persons of ex alted minds, who were determined to bury all recollection of their own injuries in the contemplation of our misfortunes. "General Burgoyne was struck with General Schuyler's generosity, and said to him — "'You show me great kindness, al though I have done you much injury.' " ' That was the fate of war,' replied the brave man. 'Let us say no more about it.' " Burgoyne was not unmindful of Schuy ler's generous hospitality and chivalrous courtesy, and took occasion on his return to England, where he resumed his place in the Parliament, to acknowledge, in the presence of the assembled British senate, his sense of gratitude. 60 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. The whole British force which surren dered at Saratoga amounted to five thou sand seven hundred and ninety-one men, of whom two thousand four hundred and twelve were Germans. A train of brass artillery, consisting of forty-two cannon, howitzers, and mortars, and four thousand six hundred and forty-seven muskets, to gether with a large supply of ammunition, fell into the possession of the Americans. Among the British officers who had sur rendered were some of the most distin guished Englishmen. There were six among them who were members of Par liament. The prisoners were subsequent ly removed to Boston, where they re mained under the especial guard of Gen eral Heath and the garrison under his command. In the meanwhile, Gates hastened to Albany, in order to encounter the British troops advancing up the Hudson under the command of General Vaughan. But when Sir Henry Clinton heard of Bur goyne's surrender, he immediately re called Vaughan (who had reached within only four hours' sail of Albany), and with drew all his force from the river to New York. Major Wilkinson was despatched with the report of the American triumph to Congress, then in session at Yorktown. He was received with great honor, and had the rank of brigadier-general imme diately bestowed upon him, in accordance with the recommendation of Gates, who also received every tribute which a grate ful people could give. Gates's military reputation was now at its height, and the esteem of his friends and his own vanity led him to entertain hopes of the chief command of the patriot armies. The success at Saratoga was a great triumph for the American cause. Creasy has justly ranked Gates's victory as one among " the fifteen decisive battles of the world." The Americans themselves were now more sanguine than ever of achiev ing their independence, and their luke warm advocates in Europe at once be came staunch friends. When news first reached France of the triumphant march of Burgoyne from the North, the French government immediately despatched in structions to Nantz and other seaports of the kingdom, that not an American pri vateer should be allowed to enter them, except in case of indispensable necessity, for repairs or provisions. Franklin, Ad ams, and Deane, the American commis sioners at Paris, were about leaving that city in. disgust with the selfish conduct of the French government, when the in telligence arrived of Burgoyne's surren der. Now all was changed, and France unhesitatingly came to the aid of a peo ple who had proved that they were so well able to defend themselves. She was ready to make a treaty, lend her money, send a fleet and troops, or do anything by which to strengthen the power of her new ally in striking the destined blow against her old enemy. In December following the memorable month of Sep tember a treaty was arranged, and in Feb ruary, 1778, the minister of Louis XVI. signed it, and acknowledged the independ ent United States. French fleets, and troops, and money, soon gave proof of the sin cerity of French promises, and hastened revolutionary.] EARLS COVENTRY AND CHATHAM ON AMERICA. Cl the consummation of the hopes of Amer ica. Spain and Holland, soon afterward, acknowledged the independence of the "United States;" and England wras left alone to struggle in her obstinate pride against the inevitable fate which was to sever for ever the American colonies from her dominion, but only to bind the great nation of the West in firmer ties of inter est, if not of friendship, with Great Brit ain. Even in England, the steadfast friends of the American cause saw its final tri umph in the failure of Burgoyne's cam paign, and boldly declared it. " Attend," said the earl of Coventry, in the house of lords, with the spirit and solemn utter ance of a prophet, " to the vast extent of the one [America], and the diminutive figure of Britain ; to their domestic situ ations ; to the increase of population in the one, and the inevitable decline of it in the other ; the luxury, dissipation, and all the concomitant effects, in this coun try, and the frugality, industry, and con sequent wise policy, of America. These, my lords, were the main grounds on which I presumed to trouble you from time to time on this subject. I foresaw then, as I continue to do, that a period must arrive when America would render herself independent; that this country would fall, and the seat of empire be removed beyond the Atlantic !" The great earl of Chatham rose feebly upon his crutch, but there came from his ardent heart and eloquent lips the same full gush, as of old, of generous sentiment and burning words. " You can not," he 73 exclaimed, " I venture to say it, you can not conquer America You may swell ev ery expense, and every effort, still more extravagantly ; pile and accumulate ev ery assistance you can buy or borrow; traffic and barter with every little pitiful German prince, that sells and sends his subjects to the shambles of a foreign po tentate : your efforts are for ever vain and impotent — doubly so from this mercena ry aid on which you rely ; for it irritates to an incurable resentment the minds of your enemies, to overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder — devoting them and their possessions to hireling cruelty ! If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country, 1 never would lay down my arms — never — never — never! .... You can not conciliate America by your present measures; you can not subdue her by any measures. What, then, can you do ? You can not conquer, you can not gain : but you can address — you can lull the fears and anxieties of the mo ment into an ignorance of the danger that should produce them. But, my lords, the time demands the language of truth : we must not now apply the flattering unc tion of servile compliance or blind com plaisance. In a just and necessary war, to maintain the right or honor of my coun try, I would strip the shirt from my back * to support it ; but in such a war as this, unjust in its principle, impracticable in its means, and ruinous in its consequences, I would not contribute, a single effort or a single shilling !" 62 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. CHAPTER LXII. Retreat of Washington to Germantown. — Slow Advance of General Howe. — He crosses the Schuylkill. — Storm versus Battle. — Success of General Grey, and Defeat of Wayne. — The British ahead. — A Forced Contribution. — The Scru pulous Washington. — Forts and Obstructions on the Delaware. — Franklin's Ingenuity. — Entry of the British into Philadelphia. — The Show. — The Officers described. — Adjournment and Removal of Congress. — The British Fleet in the Delaware. — General Howe sends out a Force to co-operate. — Attack on Germantown — Washington's Plans. — Pre liminary Skirmish. — The Enemy driven back. — Musgrave in Chew's House. — General Knox on Tactics. — Panic of the Americans. — Their Retreat. — Almost a Victory. — Pursuit by the British. — The Losses on Both Sides. 1777. Washington, after the battle of the Brandywine, collected his scat tered troops at Chester, and then contin ued his retreat, marching through Derby, crossing the Schuylkill, and finally halt ing to refresh his army at Ger- Sept. 13. B , .... • ., f mantown, within six miles of Philadelphia. Sir William Howe, as usu al, was dilatory, and for several days con tented himself with merely sending for ward detachments to take possession of Concord, Chester, and Wilmington. While in camp at Germantown, Wash ington detached a part of the militia, un der General Armstrong, with the aid of General Joseph Reed (who had volun teered his services, as he was familiar with the country), to throw up redoubts on the banks of the Schuylkill, and occupy the eastern or Philadelphia side of the river, while he himself should cross with his main body, to oppose the advance of the enemy. The commander-in-chief re mained but twenty-four hours in German- town ; and then, having ordered General Putnam to send him a detachment of fif teen hundred continental troops from his post on the Hudson, he returned across the Schuylkill river, and, taking the Lan caster road, determined to offer battle to General Howe. The British commander, however, had suddenly become unusually alert, and by a quick movement had reached the Schuyl kill, and crossed it, on his way to Phila delphia, after Washington had advanced to give him battle on the opposite side. The two armies were, in fact, upon the point of coming to an engagement pre vious to Howe's crossing the river, but were prevented by a most violent storm of rain, which continued a whole day and night. When the weather cleared, it was discovered that all the muskets were un fitted for service, and that the ammuni tion, of which each man had been supplied with forty rounds, was entirely ruined ! Nothing now was to be done but to seek out a strong piece of ground where the troops might be secure, while the arms were being put in order, and a fresh sup ply of ammunition obtained. Washing ton had encamped for this purpose near Warwick, on French creek, when General Howe succeeded in his manoeuvre of cros sing the Schuylkill; not, however, without an attempt to harass his rear. General Wayne, with fifteen hundred men, was sent off in the night, in order to take the enemy by surprise. But his purpose hav ing been detected^Howe detached a large force under General Grey, who, coming suddenly upon the Americans, and charg ing them with the bayonet, drove them from their covert in the woods, with the loss of two or three hundred men. " They had so far got the start/' wrote Washington, " before I received certain intelligence that any considerable num ber had crossed, that I found it in vain to think of overtaking their rear with troops harassed as ours had been with constant marching since the battle of Brandywine." The men were so destitute of clothing, and particularly of shoes, that the want of this last essential article was a very se rious obstruction to the progress of the army. No less than one thousand of the American soldiers were barefooted, and forced to march in that condition ! Shoes and blankets were now the great deside rata, and to obtain them Washington was (painful though he confesses it to have been) obliged to extort a forced contri bution from the inhabitants of Philadel phia. His young aid-de-camp, Colonel Alexander Hamilton, was sent forward as the agent in this unpleasant business; but the commander-in-chief took care to en join upon him the utmost delicacy and discretion in its execution. General Howe was now sure of Phila delphia, toward which city he immediate ly marched; but Washington strove to make his situation there as little " agree able" as possible. He hoped to cut off Howe's supplies by land and by water, and was disposed to think that the acqui sition of Philadelphia might prove his ruin instead of his good fortune. The American army now crossed the Schuyl kill at Parker's ford, and encamped near Pottsgrove, to refresh and await the rein forcements expected from General Put nam at Peekskill. In the hope of check- ' ing the advance to Philadelphia of the British fleet, at that time anchored in the Delaware, and of preventing the co-oper ation of Admiral Lord Howe with his brother the general, Washington was very solicitous about the fortifications and ob structions which had been constructed in the river. Benjamin Franklin, before proceeding to Paris in his diplomatic capacity, had already exercised his manifold ingenuity in planning works to be raised on the Delaware, to protect his adopted city. Subsequently, rows of chevaux-de-frise, con structed of immense beams of timber, bolted together and stuck full of iron spikes, were sunk in the channel of the Delaware, near where it forms its junc tion with the Schuylkill. Above these, and about seven miles from Philadelphia, was a battery, with heavy cannon, called Fort Mifflin, situated upon the flat and marshy ground of Mud or Fort island; while opposite, at Red bank, on the New- Jersey shore, was a strong redoubt, with intrenchments, called Fort Mercer, pro tected in front by another fortified island. Below, there was a further series of chev aux-de-frise in the channel of the Delaware between Billing's island and Billingsport, at which latter point, on the New-Jersey 64 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. side, there was also a strong redoubt. There were, moreover, several American armed vessels, a number of row-galleys, some fire-ships, and floating batteries, an chored to defend the chevaux-de-frise, and prevent the approach to Philadelphia by water. General Sir William Howe had in the meanwhile encamped at Germantown, whence he sent a large body of troops,- under Earl Cornwallis, to take possession of Philadelphia. Their entry into the city was impressive. The inhabitants, natu rally in expectation of violence and rap ine, were greatly relieved by the orderly conduct of the enemy. Their houses and shops were closed, but the people, dressed in their best apparel, did not fear to show themselves in the streets. The British grenadiers, of " tranquil look and digni fied appearance," led the van, Lord Corn wallis at their head, who, with his some what short and thick-set person, his ami able face, and affable manner's, had no very formidable look. The grenadiers, howev er, were followed by some of the dreaded Hessians, and in the eyes of the citizens they appeared terrific. Their " brass caps, their mustachios, their countenances, by nature morose,and their music, that sound ed better English than they themselves could speak, 'Plunder! plunder! plunder!' gave," says an eye-witness of the scene, " a desponding, heartbreaking effect, as I thought, to all." The meager, erect, and sharp-featured Hessian general, Knyphau sen (a stiff formalist and military marti net, though courtly in his way), was not calculated to relieve the inhabitants from their excited apprehensions of his merce- Sept. 30. nary troops. Some of the more thought ful of the citizens appeared sad, and the timid frightened ; but to the great mass the entry of the British troops, with their gay accoutrements and, lively music, was a show upon which they looked, if not with pleasure, certainly with a cheerful curiosity. Congress had, on the advance of the British, adjourned to Lancaster, and sub sequently to Yorktown, beyond the Sus- quehannah river, where its members as sembled, and continued to hold their sessions as long as Phila delphia .remained in possession of the enemy. Sir William Howe, desirous of a co-op eration with the fleet, in order to secure supplies for his army, first directed his attention toward the attainment of that object. His army was, therefore, no soon er encamped, than he began to erect bat teries on the Delaware, near Philadelphia. At the same time, he sent out a detach ment of troops, with orders to cross the river and make an attempt upon the American works at Billingsport, on the New-Jersey side, which commanded the chevaux-de-frise^, and interfered with the advance of the British fleet to Philadel phia. Washington, discovering this move ment of the enemy, and being reinforced by fifteen hundred men detached by Gen eral Putnam, determined to at tack them in their encampment at Germantown, as, in consequence of their force being weakened by the detach ment sent out against Billingsport, it was thought a favorable opportunity offered. Sept. 27. revolutionary.] WASHINGTON PLANS AN ATTACK ON HOWE. 65 The commander-in-chief was now at Pen- nibacker's mill, on the Skippack road, within fourteen miles of Germantown; and he proposed to march that distance in the night, and if possible take General Howe by surprise. To understand Washington's plan of attack, it is necessary to call to mind the position of Germantown. This place, now as it were a suburb of Philadelphia, was then a small town or village, about six miles nor ua west from that city. It was chiefly composed of two rows of small houses, extending over a mile in distance, one on each side of the Skippack road, which ran (forming one street, bordered with peach-trees) directly through Ger mantown from north to south, and, before reaching the village, passing over the two eminences of Chestnut hill and Mount Airy. On the outskirts of Germantown, to the north, and situated on the Skip- pack road, was a large stone-house, be longing to Chief-Justice Chew, a distin guished Pennsylvanian, inclined to be whiggish, but rather vacillating in his po litical principles. Wissahickon creek, that empties into the Schuylkill, was, together with that river, at that time a rather re mote western boundary of the village. In addition to the Skippack road, which ran directly through the centre of Ger mantown, there were three other roads which approached it from the north : the Limekiln and Old York roads were on the east of the central or Skippack road, and the Manatawny or Ridge road to the west, which,leading between Wissahickon creek and Schuylkill river, crossed the former at the southern border of the town. Howe'g encampment stretched diago nally across the lower part of German- town,, being thus divided as it were by the main street, or the Skippack road; to the west of which lay the left wing, under General Knyphausen, extending to the banks of the Schuylkill ; while to the east stretched the right, commanded by General Grant. The British centre occu pied the houses in the main street or the Skippack road — the village itself, in fact. To the north, there was posted on this road an advanced guard, consisting of a battalion of lightinfantry and the fortieth regiment of the line. The left wing was covered by the German chasseurs, horse and foot, who were stationed at "Van Deering's mill," on the Schuylkill ; and the right was guarded by the Queen's Rangers, posted on the Old York road, and by the lightinfantry on the Limekiln. Washington's plan of attack, as de scribed by himself, was, to march a divis ion of his army by each of the four roads which, as we have seen, led to German- town. The divisions of Generals Sullivan and Wayne, supported by Conway's bri gade, were to enter the town by the Skip- pack road from the north, to attack the British centre. The divisions of Greene and Stephen were to take the Limekiln road, and attack their right wing in front ; while Generals Smallwood and Forman, with the Maryland and New-Jersey mili tia, were to march by the Old York road, and fall upon their rear. The enemy's left, on the Schuylkill, was reserved for General Armstrong and the Pennsylvania militia, who were to proceed by the Man atawny road. Lord Stirling, with Nash's 66 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. Oct. 3. and Maxwell's brigades, was to form a corps de reserve. The march began at. seven o'clock in the evening, Washing ton accompanying Sullivan's division in person. The distance was long, the night dark, and the road rough ; and it was con sequently daybreak before Sullivan's ad vanced guard emerged from the woods on Chestnut hill. Here it was expected to find an advanced picket of the enemy, but none made its appearance. A detach ment was now sent forward under Cap tain M'Lane, who led his men on cautious ly, as the morning was foggy, and noth ing could be seen in the distance until he reached "Allen's house," on Mount Airy, where he fell in with an advanced picket of the enemy posted there with two six- pounders. M'Lane attacked it, and drove it down the hill and back to the body of lightinfantry stationed in its rear, and about two miles on the road in advance of General Howe's centre in the town. This preliminary skirmish soon aroused the enemy, and the whole British encamp ment was immediately astir, with the drums beating to arms. General Wayne hastened for ward to sustain M'Lane, as the British lightinfantry presented itself, in full force, to dispute the passage of the road. Wayne's troops came on so impet uously, that the enemy broke before the encounter. Their officers, however, re formed them, and a fierce firing ensued. They were nevertheless forced from their ground; but, being supported by the grenadiers, they came up once more, and renewed the struggle with great spirit. Oct. 4. Sullivan's division and Conway's brigade now arrived to the aid of Wayne, when the British were unable to hold their po sition, and were forced back, struggling awhile as they retired ; but Wayne's men charged them so fiercely with the bayo- jiet, that they finally fled for their lives, hard pushed by the Americans, and beg ging for mercy, but receiving none. At this juncture, however, Colonel Musgrave, with six companies of the fortieth regi ment, succeeded as he retreated in get ting possession of Chew's large stone- house. While Wayne, with the advanced body, continued to pursue the retreating British into Germantown, the remainder of the Americans were brought to a halt by Colo nel Musgrave. This officer had barricaded the doors of Chew's house, and from the windows his lightinfantry kept up a mur derous fire upon their pursuers. A dis cussion now took place among the Ameri can officers. Some were in favor of storm ing the house, and others were opposed to the consequent delay. General Reed was for pushing on ; General Knox, of the ar tillery, however, contended that it was contrary to all military precedent to leave " a fort," possessed by the enemy, in the rear. " What !" exclaimed Reed, " call tlmt 'a fort,' and lose the happy moment?" Knox's opinion, nevertheless, prevailed ; and, that everything might be done ac cording to the " rules of war," it was de termined to send a summons to the com mander of "the fort" to surrender. A youth was therefore sent with a flag in due form ; but he had no sooner reached within musket-range, than he was shot revolutionary.] BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 67 dead. The artillery was now brought up, but even cannon-balls proved ineffectual. Attempts were at last made to set fire to the house. Some Avith bundles of straw, and others with firebrands of pine-wood, made their way amid a shower of bullets to the lower part of the building, where they strove to effect their purpose ; but Musgrave's men were on the alert, and, getting into the cellar of the house, shot down each man before he could accom plish his object. A half-hour was thus lost in these vain and absurd efforts to carry out Knox's formal tactics, and the rear of Sullivan's division was prevented from giving that aid to General Wayne which might have proved of effective service. General Sullivan, however, in spite of this delay of a part of his troops, being reinforced by Nash's and Conway's bri gades, succeeded, by leaving the Skip- pack road, crossing a field, and marching rapidly for a mile, in coming up with the left of the enemy, and by a vigorous at tack forcing it to retire. The divisions of Generals Greene and Stephen had, in accordance with Wash ington's plan, gained the Limekiln road ; but the latter having diverged, to assist in the attack on Chew's house, Greene was left to march against the enemy's right with none but his own troops, con sisting of Scott's and Muhlenberg's bri gades. He succeeded, however, in dri ving an advanced guard of lightinfantry before him, and in making his way to the markebhou#e in the town, where the Brit ish right wing, under General Grant, was posted. Greene began the attack with spirit; and, as Forman and Smallwood, with the militia of .New Jers.ey and Ma ryland, were rapidly getting by the Old York road to the rear of the British right, there was every prospect of success. At this moment, however, whether from the complicated nature of the plan, the thick fog, or the mere nervous excitement of the troops, a general panic seized upon the Americans. A great confusion now prevailed, and friend was mistaken for foe. General Wayne's division, in the heat of pursuit, was suddenly turned and put to flight by the approach on its flank of some American troops which were be lieved to be those of the enemy. Ste phen's division, too, was thrown into dis order by making the same mistake in re gard to Wayne's corps. Sullivan's men, having shot their last round of ammuni tion, had also been panic-struck by the cry that the enemy were surrounding them. " In the midst," said Washington, " of the most promising appearances, when everything gave the most flattering hopes of victory, the troops began suddenly to retreat, and entirely left the field, in spite of every effort that could be made to rally them." It was not known until afterward how near the Americans were of gaining a com plete victory. The action had lasted two hours and forty minutes, and the enemy had been so hard pressed, that they were about retreating to Chester. Washington succeeded in bringing off all his artillery, but lost, in killed, wounded, and missing, nearly a thousand men ; while the ene my, according to their own account, lost but about five hundred. General Nash 68 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. of North CaroLina was killed, and Colonel Mathews of Virginia taken captive, to gether with a large number of prisoners which he had obtained in the beginning of the engagement. The British general Agnew was mortally wounded, together with other officers. It was during the retreat, after the sin gular panic which seized upon the army, when the loss of the Americans was the greatest. As soon as the British discov ered how strangely the advantage of the day was turning in their favor, they pur sued it with great promptitude. Their left wing was brought up by General Grey, and, being joined on the road by Lord Cornwallis with a detachment of lighthorse from Philadelphia, the fugi tives were followed in hot pursuit. Gen erals Greene and Wayne, however, cov ered the retreat with great skill, and often brought their pursuers to a stand. Wash ington continued to retire until the close of the day, when he reached Perkimen creek, some twenty miles distant from Germantown. CHAPTER LXIII. General Howe's Works on the Delaware.— Destruction of the American Ships.— Success of the Britisli at Billingsport. Gaps in the Chevaux-de-Frise.— A Clear Run.— Attack on Fort Mercer.— Its Gallant Defence.— Repulse of the Hes sians.— Death of Count Donop. — A Victim of Ambition and Avarice.— Attack on Fort Mifflin.— Repulse of the Brit ish.— Burning of a Ship-of- War.— Effect of the American Triumph.— Another Effort for the Command of the Dela ware.— A Second Attack upon Fort Mifflin.— Its Heroic Defence.— Desperate Straits of the Garrison.— Showers of Bombs and Balls.— Fall of Fort Mifflin.— Washington in want of Reinforcements.— Dilatoriness of Generals Gates and Putnam. — Effect of Age upon Putnam. 1777. General Slr William Howe no sooner reached Germantown, and took possession of Philadelphia, than he strove to obtain the command of the Del aware, in order to secure the co-operation of the fleet commanded by his brother, Admiral Lord Howe. For this purpose, as we have seen, he had begun to con struct three batteries near the city, and prepared to attack the American forts on the river. Philadelphia, being a seaport, and at that time the largest town in the United States, presented the greatest facilities for constructing and fitting out naval vessels. The few armed cruisers, both public and private, then employed, had accordingly been for the most part built and prepared for sea on the Delaware, where they remained until ordered for service. Although, on the approach of the British fleet off the mouth of that river, some of the vessels had succeeded in making their escape to sea, there were others which had been left, and had now sought refuge above the forts and obstruc tions in the stream. Some of these were at this time above and othets below the city ; and when General Howe began to erect his three batteries, it was obvious revolutionary.] DEFENCES OF THE DELAWARE.— FORT MERCER. 69 that the communication between them woidd be cut off. The Delaware, a twen ty-four, and the Doria, a fourteen-gun ves sel, together with several smaller armed craft, accordingly moved in front of the British works and opened a cannonade. The Delaware, however, was so unfortu nately placed, that she took the ground on the ebb of the tide ; and her guns be coming unmanageable, she was obliged to strike to the enemy, who had brought some fieldpieces to bear upon her. Her consorts then retired, and General Howe was allowed to continue the construction of his batteries without interference. The detachment of British troops, un der Colonel Stirling, that had crossed the Delaware to attack the American works at Billingsport, on the New-Jersey side of the river, had succeeded in carrying them. The works having been disman tled, the British frigate Roebuck broke through the chevaux-de-frise which crossed the channel of the Delaware at that point, and made a gap sufficiently wide to ad mit the largest man-ofwar. The enemy's next attempt was upon the forts and che vaux-de-frise above. Great preparations were made for their defence, as they were deemed of the utmost importance by the Americans. Washington himself declared that the enemy's hopes of keeping Phila delphia, and "finally succeeding in the present campaign," depended upon them. Efforts to carry them were made by the British corresponding with those which were put forth in their defence. After the redoubt at Billingsport was taken and the chevaux-de-frise broken by the enemy, the defence of the Dela\Hare 74 depended upon the works above — Fort Mercer, at Red bank, on the eastern or New- Jersey side ; and Fort Mifflin, on Mud island, on the western or Pennsylvania side. The fortifications of both were fair ly constructed, and consisted of redoubts and outworks. Two Maryland regiments, commanded by LieutenantColonel Sam uel Smith, garrisoned Fort Mifflin ; and two of Rhode Island, under Colonel Chris topher Greene, occupied Fort Mercer. With Greene was a young Frenchman, Captain Manduit Duplessis, who was serv ing in the American army, and who, in consequence of his skill as an engineer, had been sent down to superintend the construction of the additional fortifica tions supposed to be necessary. The che vaux-de-frise in the channel below the isl ands, which were his work, having been finished, he was now busy in strengthen ing the defences at Fort Mercer. While a party of men, under the super intendence of Duplessis, was engaged, on the morning of the 22d of October, at work on the outer defences, which were still incomplete, a large force of Hessians was seen suddenly to come through the woods, and form almost within cannon- shot. The garrison amounted to only four hundred men. The enemy were twenty- five hundred strong. The outworks of the fort, . as before remarked, were unfin ished, and the redoubt within the enclo sure was mounted with only fourteen guns. Colonel Greene, however, deter mined upon defending his post to the last extremity. When the Hessians came to a halt, Count Donop,who commanded them,' or- 70 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. Oct. 22. dered a parley to be beaten by the drums, and sent forward an officer with a flag, who summoned the garrison to surrender, and threatened that, in case of refusal, no quarter would be given. " Tell your com mander," replied Greene, " that we ask no quarter, and will give none !" Count Do- nop now advanced his men within a short distance of the fort, and began to raise a battery. Colonel Greene was aware, from the incomplete state of his outworks, that it would be in vain to attempt to defend them, and therefore resolved upon con centrating his whole strength within the inner redoubt. Here, with his little gar rison, he resolved to hold his ground, and if possible beat off the superior force of his antagonist. In the afternoon, Count Donop, having completed his battery, began a severe cannonade, and under the cover of the fire marched forward his troops in two divisions. One was to take the works on the north side ; while the other, led by himself, was to make the assault by the south. The Americans awaited the approach of the enemy, and gave one fire before retiring to the redoubt. The Hessians suffered severely ; but as they advanced, and found the outworks suddenly aban doned, they believed that the garrison had fled in fright. With one triumphant shout, the enemy then pushed on, from both the north and south sides. Passing through the abattis, crossing the ditches, and leaping the pickets, they hurried for ward, with flag in hand, to plant it exult ingly upon the ramparts. Greene waited until the scattered Hessians had closed in together from the surrounding outworks, and crowded toward the central redoubt ; and, while they were thus concentrated in a dense throng, he opened his artillery upon them with terrible effect. The assailants quailed before the unex pected shock, and, as their comrades fell thickly about them, would have fled, had not the brave Count Donop sprung for ward and rallied them. They came on again impetuously, but a second cannon ade from the redoubt checked their on set, and caused them to waver. Rallying once more, they were again pushing for ward to the assault, when another mur derous fire drove them back, and they fled in confusion from the works. As they were retreating from the outer defences, the American flotilla of gun-boats and gal leys, under Commodore Hazelwood, di rected its guns upon the fugitives, and galled them severely. The loss of the Hessians amounted to nearly four hundred, while that of the Americans was only eight killed and twen ty-nine wounded. • While the young en gineer, Captain Duplessis, was out with a small detachment, making a survey of the results of the engagement, he heard a voice from among the dead and dying : " Whoever you are, draw me hence." It was that of Count Donop. Duplessis had him instantly borne into the fort, where he lingered for three days, and finally died, at the age of thirty-seven. " This is finishing a noble career early," said he, shortly before his death, " and I die the victim of my ambition and of the avarice of my sovereign."* * The elector of Hcssc Cassel. revolutionary.] BURNING OF BRITISH SHIPS.— FORT MIFFLIN. 71 The second in command of the Hes sians, LieutenantColonel Mingerode,was also severely wounded in the assault, and Lieutenant -Colonel Linsing succeeded. He strove to reform his troops, but, in spite of his efforts, they fled in confusion to Haddonfield. Simultaneously with the attack by land on Fort Mercer, the British vessels in the Delaware made an attempt upon Fort Mifflin, on the opposite side of the chan nel. Admiral Howe sent up from below (where his fleet was anchored off the Pennsylvania shore, between Ruddy isl and and Newcastle) a squadron, consist ing of the Augusta, a sixty-four, the Mer lin sloop-of-war, the Roebuck, a forty-four, and several smaller ships. They succeed ed, after the successful attack at Billings port, in readily passing through the gap in the chevaux-de-frise which had been con structed ; but, while sailing up toward the fort, the Augusta and the Merlin got fast aground, in consequence of the channel having been altered by the obstructions placed above. This delayed the attack, and it was put off until the fol lowing day. When the morning opened, the men-of-war began a heavy cannonade upon Fort Mifflin, which was returned by both the fort itself and from the American galleys in the river. In the meantime, every effort was made by the English to get off the Augusta and the Merlin, but they stuck so fast, that it was found impracticable. The Americans now sent down some fire-ships, in order to destroy them, but without effect. Soon after, however, the Augusta took fire from some pressed hay which had been secured Oct. 23. on her quarter to render her shotproof The rest of the squadron dropped down the river, and abandoned the attack, to avoid the dangerous neighborhood of the burning ship, which, after blazing a short time, and the fire having reached her magazine, blew up with a terrific ex plosion. Most of her crew succeeded in saving themselves, but the second-lieuten ant, the chaplain, a gunner, and several sailors, perished. The Merlin being still fast, the British determined to leave her to her fate; and accordingly the crew, having set fire to her, took to their boats, and pulled off to the other vessels. The successful resistance of the forts on the Delaware was a source of great satisfaction to the country, and Congress gave expression to the feeling by voting thanks and swords to Colonels Smith and Greene and Commodore Hazelwood. As General Howe's security at Phila delphia (where he now proposed to make his winter-quarters) depended upon his wresting the command of the Delaware from the Americans, he and his brother resolved to persist in their efforts, in spite of their first fruitless attempts. Washing ton, too, was equally determined to throw every obstacle in their way within his power. But he was greatly crippled for want of troops, General Gates having withheld the reinforcements which the commander-in-chief had expected from the northern army ; and, until their arri val, it was with difficulty that a single man could be spared from his camp for operations elsewhere. Small detachments of troops were, however, sent to both Fort Mifflin and Fort Mercer; and General Var- 72 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii; num was despatched with his brigade to Red bank, in order to be in readiness to give any aid that might be required by either garrison. Between the Pennsylvania shore and Mud island, upon which Fort Mifflin was situated, was Province island, an oozy bit of land, mostly under water. There were, however, two dry spots upon it. only about four or five hundred yards from the west ern side of Fort Mifflin, where the de fences, consisting only of palisades, a sin gle cannon, and two blockhouses, were exceedingly weak. Lieutenant- Colonel Smith, in command of the garrison of Fort Mifflin, strove to provide against the danger from this quarter. He erected a two-gun battery on Mud island (where his fort was), to command the dry place on Province island. The enemy, in the meantime, had marched down in consid erable force from Philadelphia, in order to take possession of this ground, with the view of operating against Fort Mifflin. They had sent a party, under an officer, to make a preliminary survey of Prov ince island, preparatory to the erection of their works, when LieutenantColonel Smith brought such a well-directed fire to bear upon them from his new battery, that they were forced, after the loss of their commander, to retreat to the main land. The British, however, crossing over in larger numbers, soon made good their po sition upon Province island, and were en abled to erect no less than five batteries within only five hundred yards of Fort Mifflin. This looked so formidable, that LieutenantColonel Smith began to give up all hopes of a successful resistance, and wrote to this effect to Washington ; but he was urged, in reply, to defend the post to the last. Smith, accordingly, did his utmost. The British at length had everything in readiness for an attack, and began to open their batteries from Prov- nice island, rhe garrison of Fort Mifflin returned the fire with spirit; but the heavy guns of the enemy, firing both shell and ball, were doing irreparable mis chief. On the first day, the blockhouses and the new two-gun battery, on the out side of the fort, were demolished, and Lieutenant Treat killed. On the next, away wrent the strong palisades, a cannon in one of the embra sures, and the barracks shattered into ru ins. LieutenantColonel Smith was now disabled. He was engaged in writing a note to General Varnum, in command of the reserve force on the New- Jersey side of the Delaware, when the chimney of the barrack-room, being struck by a cannon- ball, fell, scattering the bricks in every direction, one of which knocked the com mander senseless to the ground. He was then borne away and taken across to Red bank. LieutenantColonel Russell was the next in command, but he was unable, from ill health and fatigue, to take charge ; and Major Thayer, of Rhode Island, vol unteered to assume the duty. On the third day the garrison still held out ; but the British, by their incessant cannonade, having demolished the outer works, it was found ne- °V* ' cessary to keep within the fort. Colonel Fleury, the French engineer, made every revolutionary.] FALL OF FORT MIFFLIN. 73 Nov. 13. effort to repair the works, but without success. The enemy kept up their fire night and day. Fleury, however, declared that the fort could still be defended, pro vided reinforcements should arrive. The reinforcements came from General Var- num, and the garrison still persisted in their gallant resistance. During the night of the third day, the British fleet succeeded in co-operating with their land-force. A merchantman was cut down, and, being made into a floating battery, was towed within gun-shot of the fort, and early in the morning began a heavy cannonade ; but before noon its guns were silenced by a welbdirected fire from the still-re sisting garrison. On the following day, several men-of-war also bore up to the attack : two passed into the channel be tween Province island and the fort ; two took position in front; and others an chored toward the New-Jersey shore, that their guns might bear upon Fort Mercer. In spite of this formidable force, the brave garrison, exhausted as it was with fatigue, still held out. The enemy continued to pour in their shot and bombshells from land-battery and ship's broadside, and yet not a sign of surrender from those reso lute men. The fort was in ruins, many of the guns dismounted, and almost every ¦wall beaten down level with the marsh of the island. The British ships had com pletely surrounded the place, and closed in so near, that hand-grenades were flung into the fort, and men were killed upon the platforms by 'sailors in the maintops ; and yet the garrison struggled manfully on through the whole day against fate. In the evening, Major Thayer deter mined to give the survivors a chance of escape, and accordingly sent most of the garrison ashore. He, together with Cap tains Fleury and Talbot (although the two latter were wounded), remained with thirty men until midnight, in order to re move the military stores. This being ac complished, they retired to Red bank, having first set fire to what was left of the woodwork of the fort. The loss of the Americans during this gallant struggle of the little garrison.at Fort Mif flin against such overwhelming odds, was two hundred and fifty in killed and wound ed. The loss of Fort Mifflin led to a good' deal of invidious remark on the part of the censorious, and Washington thought it necessary to justify his conduct. It was contended that he should have given greater relief to the fort, but it was clear that he had done all that his resources enabled him to do. He had thrown such a garrison into Fort Mifflin as had been found before sufficient to defend it to the last extremity ; and he had likewise sta tioned General Varnum's brigade at Fort Mercer, opposite, to be in readiness to give his aid. The only other practicable mode of giving relief to the beleaguered fort would have been to dislodge the en emy from Province island. To have done this, however, it would have been neces sary to remove the whole or a consider able portion of the army to the western bank of the Schuylkill. There wrere many and very forcible reasons against such a movement. The stores at Easton, Beth lehem, and Allentown, would have been 74 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. uncovered, and the post at Red bank un protected. It was also shown that, with the army on the west side of the Schuyl kill, the British would have been able to throw over such a force into New Jersey as to overpower the garrison at Red-bank, and so cut off all supplies from Fort Mif flin, opposite ; and " thus we should," said Washington, " in all probability, have lost both posts by one' stroke." The enemy, too, by taking possession of the fords up on the Schuylkill, after Washington had crossed, might have rendered the expect ed junction of the northern army imprac ticable ; and " should any accident have happened to them," continued the com mander-in-chief, " we should have stood a very poor chance of looking General Howe in the face through the winter, with an inferior army." The chief diffi culty in the way of energetic operations was the delay of the march of the troops from the North. . The want of the reinforcements from General Gates's army greatly embarrassed all Washington's measures ; and so anx ious was he for their arrival, that he de spatched Colonel Alexander Hamilton, to do his best to push them forward. It was not only Gates, at Albany, who was so dilatory, but Putnam also, at Peekskill. Both of these generals were evidently anxious to do something on their own account, and were not disposed to dimin ish the forces under their commands, and thus lessen the hopes of striking a blow which might resound to their glory. Both may have been actuated by the best of motives, although it was supposed that Gates was influenced by an ignominious desire of thwarting Washington, whom he was suspected of intriguing to supersede in the chief command. The patriotism of General Putnam was beyond suspicion, but in the course of increasing years he had become self-willed, and, having enter tained the project of an attack upon New York, was not inclined to give up his pet idea, which he nursed with all the fond ness of dotage, however chimerical and absurd. Young Hamilton, nevertheless, though he found "many unaccountable delays thrown in his way," succeeded by his prompt energies in overcoming them, and soon extorted from the aged Putnam and the unwilling Gates those reinforce ments from Albany and Peekskill, which, had they come at an earlier day, might have saved the forts on the Delaware, and rendered Philadelphia at least "a very ineligible situation for the enemy" during the winter. revolutionary.] FORT MERCER SURRENDERS TO LORD CORNWALLIS. 75 CHAPTER LXIV. Fall of Fort Mercer. — Washington too late. — The British command the Delaware. — A Gallant Naval Exploit. — The Raleigh and the Alfred. — Their Cruise. — Successful Attack upon a Fleet. — Success of American Privateers. — Wash ington at Whitemarsh. — Arrival of the Northern Army. — Its Miserable Plight. — Shoes wanted. — A Substitute proposed. — Raw-Hide a Failure. — Plans of Attack. — Sir William Howe on the Move. — General -Greene ordered to march. — The Marquis Lafayette finds a Chance for Glory. — His Extensive Designs. — Martial Fancies. — Lafayette gets into Danger, but gets out of it. — His own Account of the Affair. — He is rewarded with the Command of a Division. — Gen eral Stephen superseded. — Howe offers Battle. — Washington remains on the Defensive. — Howe returns to Philadel phia. — Washington in search of Winter-Quarters. 1777. Fort Mercer, situated, as before described, at Red-bank, on the New- Jersey side of the Delaware, was still in possession of the Americans. The fort was held by the garrison which, under the command of Colonel Greene, had so gal lantly repulsed Count Donop and his Hes sians ; and General Varnum with his bri gade was stationed in the neighborhood. As this post partially commanded the Del aware, thus embarrassing the movements of the British fleet, and protecting the few American armed vessels in the river, it was determined to make an effort to hold it. With this view, Generals St. Clair and Knox, and Baron de Kalb, were sent down by Washington to take a survey of the ground, and to endeavor to form a judgment of the most probable means of securing its possession. Soon afterward intelligence was received that a large Brit ish force; commanded by Lord Cornwal lis, had crossed the Delaware from Phila delphia to New Jersey ; and it being in ferred that his object was Red-bank, Wash ington ordered Generals Greene and Hun tingdon, together with Glover's brigade, to march to its support. They were, how ever, too late. Cornwallis approached with so large a force, before the reinforce ments sent by Washington could arrive, that it was futile to attempt resistance ; and Red-bank was thus abandoned to the enemy, leaving the Delaware, from the capes to Philadelphia, in the full posses sion of the Howes. The Americans now destroyed the few sea-vessels which they had in the river, consisting of the Andrea Doria, of fourteen guns, and the Hornet and the Wasp, of ten and eight respect ively. The galleys, by keeping close in to the New-Jersey shore, were enabled to make their escape to the shallow water above the city. While these occurrences were taking place on the Delaware, there was a gal lant little exploit effected at sea, which proved that there was still some spirit left among American naval men, although their character for daring had been some what tarnished by the conduct of Com modore Hazelwood and his officers, who were thought to have been less efficient than they might have been during the brave but unsuccessful struggle to hold the forts on the Delaware. 76 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. The Raleigh, a twelve-pounder frigate, having been fitted out at Portsmouth, in New Hampshire, was put under the com mand of Captain Thompson, and sailed in company with the Alfred, a twenty-gun vessel, commanded by Captain Hinman. Their first commission was to proceed to France, in order to bring thence military stores that were awaiting transportation to America. They got to sea, and made a good run of the coast, when they fell in with the Nancy, a trader, and captured her.. From her captain it was discovered that she had been left the day before by the Windward-island fleet of merchant men, bound to the West Indies, which was under the convoy of four British men-of- war, the Camel, the Druid, the Weasel, and the Grasshopper. Captain Thomp son, having learned their probable posi tion, resolved to give chase. In twenty- four hours he got sight of them from his masthead, and before night he was close enough to count the sixty sail composing the convoy, and to discover the positions of the men-of-war. Thompson, having obtained from his prize (the Nancy) the signals of the enemy, sig nalled his consort as if she belonged to the convoy. The two were astern, and to the windward of the British fleet ; and at night Thompson spoke the Alfred, and told her commander to keep near him, as he intended to run in among the enemy and lay the commodore aboard. In the course of the night the wind came round to the northward ; and the fleet having hauled by the wind, the Ra leigh and the Alfred were brought to the leeward. At break of day the breeze freshened ; and as, in order to effect his purpose, it was necessary to carry more sail, Thompson ordered the canvas to be spread. Unfortunately, the Alfred could not bear it, and fell to the leeward a long distance; while the Raleigh, under double- reefed topsails, fetched handsomely into the fleet. Thompson could not shorten sail, lest he might be detected as a stran ger ; and, giving up all hope of aid from his consort, he boldly steered in among the enemy's ships, and hove to, in order that the merchantmen astern might draw more ahead of him. He now filled away, and, steering directly through the con voy, made for the vessel-of-war most to the windward. As he passed, he spoke some of the merchantmen; and, in order to keep up his deception, he gave them orders about their course, and continued to use the enemy's signals. With her guns housed and her ports lowered, and there being no visible preparations for action, none as yet suspected the true character of the Raleigh. Captain Thompson now ran his ship alongside the Druid, of twenty guns, com manded by Captain Carteret, and, running out his guns and setting his ensign, or dered the enemy to strike. The Druid was so taken by surprise, that everything on board of her was thrown into confu sion, and even her sails got aback. The Raleigh at this moment threw into her a heavy broadside, which served to increase the disorder. Thompson continued firing, and with such rapidity, that in twenty minutes he had poured into his enemy a dozen broadsides, without receiving hard ly a shot in return. A squall coming on, revolutionary.] CAPTAIN THOMPSON'S GALLANT NAVAL EXPLOIT. 77 closed in the two vessels from all view of the rest ; but, when it cleared away, the convoy was seen scattered, and making off in all directions. The other vessels- of-war, however, were coming up to the rescue of the Druid, and Thompson found it necessary to leave his adversary. He therefore ran to the leeward and joined his consort, the Alfred. Shortening sail, the two ships waited for the British men- of-war to come up ; but, night ap proaching, the latter hauled in with the fleet again. Thompson followed them for some days,but did not succeed in provoking them to a combat. The Druid was so greatly damaged in the encounter, that she was obliged to return to England for repairs. Her loss was six killed and twenty-six wounded ; that of the Raleigh was only three men killed and wounded* During the whole year 1777, the loss of the British commercial marine was no less than four hundred and sixty-seven sail, principally taken by American pri vateers, though seventy men-of-war were kept on the American coast alone to pro tect English vessels.f Washington's present encamp ment was at Whitemarsh, within fourteen miles of Philadelphia. While here, the northern army at last arrived, and in such wretched condition in regard to clothing, that a large part of Morgan's corps had to remain in camp for want of shoes, and only a hundred and seventy were sufficiently well shod to be able to march when Washington was sending those reinforcements to Red-bank which * History of the Navy of the United States, by J. Fenni- more Cooper. t lb. 75 Nov. 22. arrived too late to save it. Shoes had become so scarce in the camp, that the commander-in-chief was induced to offer a reward for a substitute. Accordingly, the following was posted about, as a stim ulus to the inventive genius of the army : "The commander-in-chief offers a re ward of ten dollars to any person who shall, by nine o'clock on Monday morn ing, produce the best substitute for shoes, made of raw-hides. The commissary of hides is to furnish the hides, and the ma jor-general of the day is to judge of the essays, and assign the reward to the best artist." What the result was, has never been recorded ; although it is probable that, as shoes remained for a long time subse quently a pressing want in the army, the raw-hide substitute never came into use. While Lord Cornwallis was marching against Red-bank, a council of war was held in the American camp, to consider the propriety of taking advantage of the occasion of his absence, to make an attack on Philadelphia. Four of the fifteen gen eral officers were in favor of it, but eleven opposed it, and the idea was abandoned. This, no doubt, was a judicious resolve ; for, although the enemy left at Philadel phia were not greater in number than Washington's army, now that he was re inforced by the northern troops, their dis cipline and condition were much better. Sir William Howe, too, having concentra ted his troops within the city, had pro tected them by skilfully-constructed de fensive works. His lines on the north side of Philadelphia stretched from river to river, and were defended by a chain 78 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. of fourteen strong redoubts, with here and there abatlis and circular works, while his flanks were each protected by a river, and his rear by the junction of two. General Howe, finding that Washing ton was not disposed to attack him in his encampment at Philadelphia, resolved up on a forward movement himself, hoping, as he said in his despatch to the British minister, that it would " be attended with the success that is due to the activity and spirit of his majesty's troops." Washing ton had been well informed of the inten tions of the enemy, and as early as the 28th of November declared that he wrould "not be disappointed if they come out this night or very early in the morning." He accordingly wrote to General Greene (who was now returning from his futile march into New Jersey, where he had ar rived too late to thwart Cornwallis's ex pedition against Red-bank), urging him to push forward the rear brigades with all despatch, and hasten on himself to the camp. During this march of Greene, the young marquis de Lafayette had an opportunity, for which he was ever eager, of gratifying his desire for military glory. After his wound at the battle of the Brandywine, he had been conducted to Bethlehem, in Pennsylvania, where he remained, under the nursing care of the kindly Moravians, for nearly two months. While listening to the sermons of the peace-loving breth ren, the marquis, with the ardor so natu ral to youth, was concocting all kinds of military schemes. He planned a descent upon the English Westlndiaislands,which he proposed to attack with the connivance of the French commander of Martinique, to whom he wrote, explaining his design. He also conceived an extensive expedi tion against the British possessions in the East Indies, and solicited permission from the French prime minister to conduct an American force to the Isle of France, whence he proposed to strike his great blow against the English power in the East. The marquis found the good Mo ravians as little disposed to concur with his grand views of stirring up the whole world to contention as he was to follow their precepts of universal love. They ceased not to deplore " his warlike poli cy," but he continued to indulge in his martial fancies. They preached peace, but his voice was " still for war." Lafayette now became impatient, and determined, although not yet completely cured of his wound, to seek an opportu nity of carrying his martial theories into practice. When General Greene's trum pets, therefore, sounded in his ears, he bade good-by to the peaceful Moravians, and buckled on his sword again. Greene welcomed the young marquis, and grati fied his eagerness for fight, by allowing him, in accordance with his own request, to reconnoitre Cornwallis on the earl's re turn from Red-bank, and to make an at tack if the circumstances should justify it. Lafayette accordingly went off in high spirits, with ten lighthorse, about a hundred and fifty riflemen, and two pick ets of militia. Lord Cornwallis was just on the point of sending his troops across the Delaware at Gloucester, when Lafayette, in his ea gerness to reconnoitre, came so close to revolutionary.] LAFAYETTE SUPERSEDES GENERAL STEPHEN. 79 the enemy, that he was near being cut off by a company of dragoons sent to inter cept him. He escaped, however, and lived to engage in a skirmish, and to describe it, which he did as follows in a letter to General Washington : — " After having spent," wrote the mar quis, " the most part of the day in making myself well acquainted with the certainty of the enemy's motions, I came pretty late into the Gloucester road, between the two creeks. I had ten lighthorse, almost one hundred and fifty riflemen, and two pickets of militia. Colonel Armand, Colonel Launney, and the chevaliers Du plessis and Gimat, were the Frenchmen with me. A scout of my men, under Duplessis, went to ascertain how near to Gloucester were the enemy's first pick ets ; and they found, at the distance of two miles and a half from that place, a strong post of three hundred and fifty Hessians, with fieldpieces, and they en gaged immediately. As my little recon noitring-party were all in fine spirits, I supported them. We pushed the Hes sians more than half a mile from the place where their main body had been, and we made them run very fast. British rein forcements came twice to them, but, very far from recovering their ground, they always retreated. The darkness of the night prevented us from pursuing our ad vantage. After standing on the ground we had gained, I ordered them to return very slowly to Haddonfield." The young marquis had only lost one man killed and six wounded, a^id was so charmed with the good conduct of his troops, that he thus emphatically praised it in the conclusion of his letter : " I take the greatest pleasure in letting you know that the conduct of pur soldiers was above all praise. I never saw men so merry, so spirited, and so desirous to go on to the enemy, whatever force they might have, as that small party, in this little fight."* When the account of the skirmish was transmitted to Congress by Washington, with this acknowledgment of Lafayette's gallantry — " I am convinced he possesses a large share of that military ardor which generally characterizes the nobility of his country" — that body appointed the mar quis to the command of the division in the continental army lately vacated by the dismission of General Stephen, of Vir ginia, who had unfortunately acquired habits which rendered him -unfit for ser vice, and threw a shade over the bright reputation of his earlier days. The movement of General Howe did not occur quite as soon as was expected, and it was not until the 4th of December that word was brought into Washington's camp at Whitemarsh that the enemy were about attacking it that night. A detach ment of one hundred men, under Captain M'Lane, was immediately sent out to re connoitre. They soon discovered a van guard of the British on the Germantown road, and managed to harass and check its approach during the night. At break of day the next morn ing, the enemy appeared in full force up on Chestnut hill, on the Skippack road, only three miles from Washington's en campment. Brigadier-General Irvine was sent forward with six hundred Pennsyl- * Sparks. 80 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. vania militia, to harass the British light advanced parties. A skirmish ensued, in which Irvine was wounded and taken prisoner, his men having given way after the first encounter, and left their disabled commander, with a half-dozen of his sol diers in the same plight, on the field. Nothing more occurred during the day, but General Sir William Howe with his staff of officers was seen to reconnoitre the ground. During the night, the British advanced still closer, and took a position on the left, and only a mile from Washington's encampment. Here they remained for two days, and then moved a little farther to the left, with the evident purpose of provoking battle. Washington, however, was on strong ground, and was not dis posed to pit his ill-disciplined and suffer ing troops against the well-conditioned regulars of General Howe's army, and so throw away the advantage of his position on the hazard of an unequal conflict. Notwithstanding, some skirmishes took place between the advanced parties of the two armies. On one occasion, Colonel Morgan with his rifle-corps, and Colonel Gist with the Maryland militia, had a short but hot engagement with the ene my on Edge hill, in which both parties suffered severely, but the Americans were compelled to retreat before the superior force of their antagonists, after a loss of nearly fifty killed and wounded. Among the latter was Major Morris, of Morgan's rifles. €n the following day, the manoeuvres of General Howe induced the Americans to believe that he con- Dec. 8. Dec. 9. templated a general assault. Washing ton was not only prepared for him, but, as he always was on the approach of an engagement, eager for the attack. He was constantly on horseback, riding along his lines, and exhorting his men to duty. He earnestly entreated the,m to stand firm, and to rely mainly upon their bayo nets to resist the assault of the enemy. His resolute presence, and earnest though calmly-spoken words, served to bind each man in faithful obedience to their great leader's commands. The day passed, how ever, without the occurrence of the ex pected event. The next day it was discovered that the enemy had taken occasion of the night, after having lit up all their camp-fires, to retire silently toward Philadelphia. They had gone too far to be pursued, and Washington's disappoint ment at the change in the purpose of the British is strongly expressed in these words to the president of Congress : " I sincerely wish that they had made an at tack, as the issue in all probability, from the disposition of our troops and the strong situation of our camp, would have been fortunate and happy. At the same time, I must add that reason, prudence, and every principle of policy, forbade us from quitting our post to attack them. Nothing but success would have justified the measure, and this could not be ex pected from their position." General Howe's reason for not making the attack was equally well founded. He saw that Jhe American army was too strongly posted, and feared lest the issue which Washington anticipated would be revolutionary.] WASHINGTON SELECTS VALLEY FORGE. 81 so happy and fortunate to the Americans, should prove quite the reverse to the British. There seemed little prospect now of further active hostilities during the pres ent campaign, and Washington was anx iously considering how to dispose of his army for the rest of the winter. The great question with all was, " Where to look for winter-quarters ?" CHAPTER LXV. The Question of Winter-Quarters.-Valley Forge selected by Washington.-Description of Valley Forge.— Motives for the Selection.-The Winter of 1777-'78.-Destitution of the Army.-A Day of Praise and Thanksgiving—Construc tion of Huts.— Rewards of Labor.— Hunger and Cold.— Remissness of Congress.— The Commissariat Department in Fault— Not a Hoof.— Twelve Thousand Hungry Men.— No Soap.— No Shirts to wash.-The Soldiers barefoot and naked.-No Blankets : no Sleeo.-Cry of the Destitute : " No Pay, no Clothes, no Provisions, no Rum !"-Famine, Disease, and Death.— Washington still hopeful.-Washington in Prayer.-He rebukes the Intermeddlers of Pennsyl vania.— Occasional Murmurs and Disobedience.— Coercive Measures.— Their Danger.- — Putrid Camp-Fever.— Dissolution of the Army imminent. -Resistance of the Inhabitants. 1777. The question of a proper place for winter-quarters for his army was submitted by Washington, with his usual modest regard for the opinion of his mili tary associates, to a council of war. The officers, however, differed widely in their views. Some were in favor of quarter ing the troops at Wilmington ; some were for cantoning them in the valley of Tre- dyfine, a few miles west of the Schuylkill river ; while others argued in favor of sta tioning them in a line from Reading to Lancaster. Such was the diversity of opinions, that Washington, as frequently happened, was left to decide the matter according to his own judgment. He de termined to winter the army in Valley Forge. Valley Forge is a small and shallow valley in Chester county, Pennsylvania, about twenty miles from Philadelphia, formed between some rugged hills con taining iron-ore, from the working of which it derived its name. It is situated on the western bank of the Schuylkill river. There is now a town of some im portance on the site of the old camping- ground, but during the Revolution there were only a few scattered settlers on the banks of the little stream which flows through the bottom of the valley. On the sides of the hills Washington now proposed to encamp his troops, and there winter them in huts to be built out of the foresttimber growing wildly about, and having their interstices filled with clay from the unfilled soil. The motive which governed the commander-in-chief in selecting this position was explained by him in the following order to his ar my previous to taking up his march : — " The general," he said, " ardently wish es it were now in his power to conduct the troops into the best winter-quarters. 82 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. But where are these to be found ? Should we retire to the interior parts of the state, we should find them crowded with virtu ous citizens who, sacrificing their all, have left Philadelphia, and fled thither for pro tection. To their distresses, humanity for bids us to add. This is not all : we should leave a large extent of fertile country to be despoiled and ravaged by the enemy." Washington believed Valley Forge to be the position which would enable his army to inflict the least distress and give the most security ; and there " we must make ourselves," he said, " the best shel ter in our power." While the huts were yet unbuilt, Washington, conscious of the trials to which his badly-clothed troops, unprovided with shelter in the midst of winter, would be subjected, expresses, in an appeal to their fortitude, the hope that " the officers and soldiers, with one heart and one mind, will resolve to surmount every difficulty, with a fortitude and pa tience becoming their profession, and the sacred cause in which they are engaged. He himself," adds the general, " will share in the hardships and partake of every inconvenience." Never was human endurance more se verely tasked than in the trials of the whole American army during the hard winter of 1777-78. When the troops moved from Whitemarsh to Valley Forge, they were already so des titute of shoes and stockings, that their footsteps might be tracked in blood on the hard, frozen ground. It seemed al most mockery that on the very day be fore the army entered the valley which was destined to be the scene of so much Dec. 11. suffering, was that which, m ac- _ , . , , . Dec. 18. cordance with the appointment of Congress, was to be kept as " a day of praise and thanksgiving." The army halt ed, and the solemnities of the day being reverentially observed by every officer and soldier, the whole body of troops, on the followfhg morn ing, resumed the march to Valley Forge, where they arrived the same day. The troops were at once scattered over the rugged hills, and, being divided into parties of twelve men each, were busily occupied in constructing those rude huts which were to be their only shelter from the severity of a North American winter. The very orders of the army, giving uni formity to misery, show the hard neces sities to which all alike were now com pelled to submit. The huts were to be fourteen feet by six ; the sides, ends, and roofs, to be made with logs ; the roofs to be made tight with split slabs, or in some other way; the sides to be made tight with clay ; a fireplace to be made of wood, and secured with clay on the inside, eigh teen inches thick ; the fireplace to be in the rear of the hut ; the door to be in the end next the street ; the doors to be made of split oak-slabs, unless boards could be procured ; the side-walls to be six and a half feet high. One such hut was ap portioned to each twelve soldiers, while no person under the rank of a field-officer was entitled to the privilege of a hut to himself. The whole were to be arranged, as is usual with an encampment, in regu lar streets. Should necessity alone not prove a suf ficient stimulus to labor, the soldiers were revolutionary.] DESTITUTION AND SUFFERING IN THE ARMY. 83 encouraged " to industry and art" by the promise of a reward of twelve dollars to the party in each regiment which should finish its hut in " the quickest and most . workmanlike manner." And, as boards for the covering of the huts were difficult to be got, a provocative to the exercise of ingenuity was offered in the prize of a hundred dollars to any officer or soldier who, in the opinion of three gentlemen appointed to be judges, should devise a substitute equally good, but cheaper, and more quickly made. With a little ingenuity and much labo rious perseverance, it was found practi cable to raise huts ; but there were other necessities which no industry or skill of the soldier could provide or power of en durance surmount. The men must be fed and clothed. Hunger and cold are too severely extortionate to be resisted by any conscientous appeals to the vir tue of self-denial. Congress, by some un wise changes, had so completely disorgan ized the commissariat department, that it failed almost entirely in providing for the wants of the army. Colonel Joseph Trum bull, who had been appointed commissary- general by Washington, resigned at the beginning of the year, in consequence of the officious meddling of Congress with the department, and ever since the com missariat had been at the mercy of im provident folly and cunning dishonesty. " I do not know," wrote the commander- in-chief, " from what cause this alarming deficiency, or rather total failure of sup plies, arises." Again, he says : " Unless some great and capital change takes place in that line, this army must be inevitably reduced to one or other of these three things — starve, dissolve, or disperse, in order to obtain subsistence in the best manner they can." But few days had passed in Valley Forge when this " melancholy and alarm ing truth" was discovered, that the com missary in the camp had not " a single hoof of any kind to slaughter, and not more than twenty-five barrels of flour" to feed some twelve thousand hungry men ! " The soap, vinegar, and other ar ticles," wrote Washington, "allowed by Congress, we see none of, nor have we seen them, I believe, since the battle of Brandywine. The first, indeed, we have now little occasion for ; few men having more than one shirt, many only the moi ety of one, and some none at all. In ad dition to which, as a proof of the little benefit received from a clothier-general, and as a further proof of the inability of an army, under the circumstances of this, to perform the common duties of soldiers (besides a number of men confined to hos pitals for want of shoes, and others in farmers' houses on the same account), we have, by a field-return this day made, no less than two thousand eight hundred and ninety-eight men now in camp unfit for duty, because they are barefoot and otherwise naked." Thousands of the soldiers were without blankets, and many kept cowering and awake the whole night about the camp- fires, for fear lest, if they went to #sleep, they might be frozen for want of cover ing. It was with the greatest difficulty that a sufficient number of men eould be found in a condition fit to perform the 84 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. ordinary routine of camp^duty ; and men able-bodied but naked, were, often obliged, when ordered out, to borrow clothes from those who happened to have any. One of the foreign officers, while walking with Washington through the encampment, looked with such alarm upon the miser able soldiers (as their famished frames, scantily covered with a dirty blanket, slunk in the wintry air from hut to hut), and heard with such dismay, through the open crevices between the logs of their wretched dwellings, the woful cry, " No pay, no clothes, no provisions, no rum!" that he despaired of the independence of the country. "The unfortunate soldiers," declared Lafayette, " were in want of everything ; they had neither coats nor hats, shirts nor shoes. Their feet and legs froze till they became black, and it was often necessary to amputate them. From want of money, the officers could obtain neither provis ions nor any means of transport ; the colo nels were often reduced to two rations, and sometimes even to one. The army frequently remained a whole day without any provisions whatever !" Washington now found himself encum bered with a great mass of starving men, so weakened by famine and pinched by the winter's cold, that they were capable of little beyond that last effort of nature, crying for a supply of the necessities for its existence. Ever on the alert for the performance of his duty as a military com mander, Washington, hearing of a move ment of the British, would have sent out a force to check it. He accordingly or dered some of his troops to" be ready to march ; when from General Huntingdon, who commanded one division, came a let ter, saying : " I received an order to hold my brigade in readiness to march. Fight ing will be far preferable to starving. My brigade are out of provisions, nor can the commissary obtain any meat. I am ex ceedingly unhappy in being the bearer of complaints to headquarters. I have used every argument my imagination can invent to make the soldiers easy, but I despair of being able to do it much long er." From General Varnum, too, came a let ter. "According to the saying of Solo mon," wrote the general, "hunger will break through a stone-wall. It is there fore a very pleasing circumstance to the division under my command, that there is a probability of their marching. Three days successively we have been destitute of bread ; two days we have been entire ly without meat. The men must be sup plied, or they can not be commanded. The complaints are too urgent to pass un noticed. It is with pain that I mention this distress. I know it will make your excellency unhappy ; but, if you expect the exertion of virtuous principles, while your troops are deprived of the necessa ries of life, your final disappointment will be great in proportion to the patience which now astonishes every man of hu man feeling." Washington, always trustful in the ho liness of his cause, never despaired of its ultimate triumph. We can readily be lieve that, in these times of trial, with the piety which never forsook him in adver sity or prosperity, he often on his knees revolutionary.] WASHINGTON REBUKES THE INTERMEDDLERS. 85 implored in prayer the mercy of God up on his suffering troops. It is recorded by a contemporary witness that, on one oc casion, while strolling along the stream which flowed through the bottom of the valley, he heard a voice, as of one in sup plication and prayer, coming out of a se cluded spot. On approaching the place, Washington's horse was found tied near by. The intruder immediately turned his steps homeward ; and, as he told his wife what he had seen, he said, with a burst of tears, " If there is any one on this earth whom the Lord will listen to, it is George Washington."* The commander-in-chief would, howev er, have been more or less than human, if his patience had not been disturbed by the officious intermeddling of the Penn sylvania legislature with his plans, and its censorious strictures in a "Remon strance" against his conduct. " We find gentlemen," said Washington, " without knowing whether the army was really going into winter-quarters or not (for I am sure no resolution of mine would war rant the remonstrance), reprobating the measure as much as if they thought the soldiers were made of stocks or stones, and equally insensible of frost and snow ; and moreover, as if they conceived it ea sily practicable for an inferior army, un der the disadvantages I have described ours to be, which are by no means exag gerated, to confine a superior one, in all respects well appointed and provided for a winter's campaign, within the city of Philadelphia, and to cover from depreda tion and waste the states of Pennsylvania - * Lossing. 76 and Jersey. But what makes this matter still more extraordinary in my eyes is, that these very gentlemen — who were well apprized of the nakedness of the troops from ocular demonstration, who thought their own soldiers worse clad than others, and who advised me near a month ago to postpone the execution of a plan I was about to adopt, in conse quence of a resolve of Congress for seiz ing clothes, under strong assurances that an ample supply would be collected in ten days agreeably to a decree of the state (not one article of which, by-the-by, is yet come' to hand) — should think a winter's campaign, and the covering of these states from the invasion of an ene my, so easy and practicable a business !" Washington then proceeds to rebuke these intermeddlers of Pennsylvania with a warmth of feeling excited not only by their reckless disregard of the sufferings of his troops, but by his own humane sympathy with them : " I can assure these gentlemen," he wrote, " that it is a much easier and less distressing thing to draw remonstrances in a comfortable room, by a good fireside, than to occupy a cold, bleak hill, and sleep under frost and snow, without clothes or blankets. However, although they seem to have little feeling for the naked and distressed soldiers, I feel superabundantly for them* and from my soul I pity those miseries which it is neither in my power to relieve nor to prevent." That the army, in the state of destitu tion and suffering in which it was, should occasionally break out in mutinous com plaints, and refuse to do duty, was natu- 80 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. 1778. rally to be expected. The long for bearance of his soldiers surprised Washington himself, and won from him a grateful tribute to their patient endu rance. " Naked and starving as they are," he said, " we can not enough admire the incomparable patience and fidel ity of the soldiery, that they have not been, ere this, excited by their suf ferings to a general mutiny and deser tion." In order to make up for the deficien cies of its ill-managed commissariat, Con gress authorized Washington to resort to the desperate expedient of exacting sup plies from the people by force. Wash ington unwillingly consented to avail him self of this legal authority, in the pressing necessities of his army, but declared that it would never do to procure supplies of clothing or provisions by coercive meas ures. "Such procedures," he emphatic ally adds, " may give a momentary relief; but, if repeated, will prove of the most pernicious consequence. Besides spread ing disaffection, jealousy, and fear, among the people, they never fail, even in the most veteran troops, under the most rigid and exact discipline, to raise in the sol diery a disposition to licentiousness, to plunder and robbery, difficult to suppress afterward, and which has proved not on ly ruinous to the inhabitants, but, in many instances, to armies themselves. I regret the occasion that compelled to the meas ure the other day, and shall consider it among the greatest of our misfortunes if we should be under the necessity of prac tising it again." _ Was there ever a leader of armies who 1778. thus spoke and acted like a brother-man and fellow-citizen ? When this reserve in regard to private property was observed, too, in a country hostile to American in terests, how much greater appears Wash ington's honorable fastidiousness ! When, in order to save his men from absolute famine, he reluctantly exercised the pow er conferred upon him by Congress, the inhabitants resisted his authority even unto arms. Washington issued a procla mation, in which he required all the farm ers within seventy miles of Valley Forge to thrash out one half of their grain by the first of February, and the other half by the first of March, under the penalty of having the whole seized as straw. Many of the disaffected Pennsyl vanians, who abounded in that quarter, refused to comply with the requisition ; and when troops were sent out for sup plies, and a fair price offered for them, the farmers defended their grain and cat tie with violence, and in some instances burned what they could not protect, so resolutely hostile were they to the Amer ican cause. Without the necessities of life, man and beast soon began to sicken. The horses died for want of forage ; and the poor, famishing soldiers were forced "to yoke themselves to wagons and sledges, to bring in what fuel and scanty stores could oc casionally be obtained. There was as yet no improvement in the commissary de partment. The suffering army was con stantly being tantalized with accounts from all quarters of the prodigious quan tity of clothing which was purchased and forwarded for their use, while little or revolutionary.] AMERICANS STARVING— BRITISH LUXURIATING. 87 none reached them, or that little so badly sorted as to be totally useless. The poor soldier had a pair of stockings given him without shoes, or a waistcoat without a coat or blanket to his back. The little man had a large pair of trousers, and the large one, like the big boy in the Cyro- pcedia, a small coat ; so that none were benefited. " Perhaps by midsummer," said Washington, with bitter irony„ " he [the soldier] may receive thick stockings,shoes, and blankets, which he will contrive to get rid of in the most expeditious man ner. In this way, by an eternal round of the most stupid management, the pub lic treasure is expended to no kind of purpose, while the men have been left to perish by inches with cold and naked ness i" A putrid camp-fever was the natural consequence of this terrible destitution Feb. 12. of all the necessities of life ; and so many sickened, while such numbers deserted daily, that the army was thought to be in danger of dissolution. "The situation of the camp," wrote General Varnum to General Greene, " is such, that, in all human proba bility, the army must soon dis solve. Many of the troops are destitute of meat, and are several days in arrear. The horses are dying for want of forage. The country in the vicinity of the camp is exhausted. There can not be a moral certainty of bettering our circumstances while we continue here. What conse quences have we actually to expect? Our desertions are astonishingly great; the love of freedom, which once animated the breasts of those born in the country, is controlled by hunger, the keenest of necessities." CHAPTER LXVI. The British revelling in Philadelphia.— Plenty of Money.— Plenty of Friends.— Gold versus Paper.— Six Hundred Dol lars for a Pair of Boots.— The British waxing fat.— -Luxury and Dissipation.— Loyally drunk.— The Effect.— Tho Profligates among the Quakers.— " A Housekeeper wanted."— Gambling.— Run of 111 Luck.— Penniless Officers.— A Jolly Parson.— General Howe in "High Jinks."— May Pemberton's Coach and Horses.— Old Men wag their Heads. —Admiral Lord Howe in Philadelphia.— British and Hessian Generals.— Major Andre in Franklin's House.— A Com plimentary Theft.— Deserters from the American Camp.— Their Tale of Misery.— The Sock and Buskin.— British Officers turned Players.— The Mischianza.— The Pageant described.— Regatta.— The Tournament.— Fair Ladies and Brave Knights.— The Queen of Beauty.— Ball and Banquet.— The Victorious Miss Franks.— A Single and Signal Defeat. 1778. From the starving camp of Wash ington at Valley Forge we turn to the winter-quarters of the British army at Philadelphia, where Sir William Howe, his officers, and men, were revelling in the midst of abundance. Provisions were, indeed, scarce and dear, and many of the inhabitants were obliged to curtail the luxuries if not the necessities of life ; but the army-chest, being always kept well replenished by the prodigal mother-coun try, the British troops enjoyed both. The inhabitants of the surrounding country were inclined in favor of the royal inter ests, and particularly well disposed tow ard their own. They preferred selling their hay, corn, and cattle, to General Howe, not only because he was apparent ly in the ascendant, but because he could pay in sterling gold for what Washing ton was only enabled to give them in ex change the almost valueless continental money. When an American commissary presented himself with his worthless pa per, the farmer, with his rusty musket to his shoulder, resolutely fought for each grain of his harvest and starveling of his flock, and yielded neither until forced to comply ; while barns were readily emp tied out, and whole herds driven forth, at the demand of the British agents, sup plied with* gold. Congress might issue its millions of bits of paper, and call each a dollar ; but when half a thousand could be readily bought for two golden guineas, it was natural that the trader, whatever might be his love for political freedom, should prefer to pocket the latter, even with its insult ing impress of the hated King George, to taking the former with all its eloquent flourishes of liberty and independence. Thus, a man with a guinea in his pocket was often a more welcome customer than he who had hundreds of continental dol lars ; and, while the one could purchase a pair of boots, the other was forced to go barefoot. Six hundred dollars in con tinental currency were not seldom paid for'a single pair of boots, and a skein of silk was thought cheap at ten dollars of the depreciated currency ! Waxing fat with the abundance and in the indolence of their winter encamp ment, the British yielded themselves up to luxury and dissipation. Their own his torians have declared that they reversed the standing maxim of Marshal Turenne, and seemed to think the more drinking, gaming, and licentiousness, in a garrison, the better.* The whole winter of 1777- '78 was spent in indolence, or in dissipa tion and revelry. Every regimental mess was a scene of nightly orgies. When op portunity offered, the men, whether on or off duty, got most loyally drunk. A want of discipline and proper sub ordination pervaded the whole British force ; and if famine and sickness thinped the American army encamped at Valley Forge, abundance and indulgence perhaps did no less injury to the British troops. During the winter, a very unfortunate in attention was shown to the feelings of the inhabitants. They experienced many of the horrors of civil war. Some of the leading inhabitants, and many of these, too, of the orderly sect of .Quakers, were forced to quarter reckless young officers, who were even indecent enough to intro duce their -mistresses into the mansions of their compulsory hosts, f A pair of youthful profligates had the audacity to advertise in the public journal : "Wanted to hire with two single gentlemen, a young- woman to act in the capacity of house keeper, and who can occasionally put her hand to anything. Extravagant wages will be given, and no character required. * Pictorial History of England. f Stedman. revolutionary.] GENERAL HOWE'S " HIGH JINKS."— MAJOR ANDRE. 89 Any young woman who chooses to offer, may be further informed at the bar of the City Tavern."* Gaming of every species was permit ted, and even sanctioned. This vice not only debauched the mind, but, by seden tary confinement and the want of season able repose, enervated the body. A for eign officer held the bank at the game of faro, by which he made a very consid erable fortune ; and but too many respect able families in Britain had to lament its baneful effects. Officers who might have rendered honorable service to their coun try were compelled, by what was termed a " a bad run of luck," to dispose of their commissions, and return penniless to their friends.f It is some satisfaction to find that these graceless fellows "very frequently attend ed different places of worship," although " Friends' meetinghouses were not much to their tastes."J They naturally pre ferred to attend the service of their own chaplains, who seemed to be on very ex cellent terms with their reprobate listen ers. A "jolly parson Badger," who was billeted with a demure Quaker, was in the habit, after parades, of bringing a set of rollicking young officers into his "front room up-stairs," who rather disturbed the staid propriety of .the small, quiet house hold of his broad-brimmed host. General Howe himself also kept such " high jinks," that he scandalized the older officers, although he only grew more pop ular with the younger ones. He took possession of one of the finest houses in * Watson's Annals of Philadelphia t Stedman. j: Watson. town, in High street, afterward occupied by General Washington, and drove about with " May Pember ton's coach and horses," which he had seized and kept for his own use. His conduct was so free, with a set of jolly young officers, that some of the veterans shook their heads, and declared that, before his promotion to the chief command of the army, he always sought for the company and counsels of officers of experience and merit ; while now his companions were usually mere boys and the most dissipated fellows in the whole army* His brother, Admiral Lord Howe, be haved himself with more sobriety of de meanor. Having moved his fleet to the city, he too now resided in Philadelphia, taking possession of an imposing mansion in Chestnut street. Earl Cornwallis and General Knyphausen were also lodged in accordance with their dignity ; and Major Andre dwelt in Doctor Franklin's house, which had been vacated by his daughter, Mrs. Bache, on the entrance of the British into Philadelphia. Andre seems to have conducted himself generally with a prop er regard to the rights of the owner of the dwelling ; for Mrs. Bache, in writing afterward to her father, in Paris, confesses that she found the house and furniture upon her return in better order than she had reason to expect from " such a rapa cious crew." The major, however, carried off the renowned philosopher's portrait ; but, as the theft is presumed to have been intended as a compliment to the scientific attainments of the great original, it may be ranked among the pardonable sins. * Watson. 90 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. Franklin, though his own house, with his pet books, his ingenious mechanical toys, and his scientific apparatus, was ex posed to the rude handling of a vandal enemy, received the news of the posses sion of the city by the British with won derful equanimity. " General Howe," he said, " has not taken Philadelphia : Phila delphia has taken General Howe !" And the luxury and wantonness which demoral ized both officers and soldiers, while in winter-quarters in that city, confirmed the shrewd remark of the philosopher. Thus the winter passed in all gayety in the city of Philadelphia, while it was all gloom on the rugged hills of Valley Forge. In the British camp there was no reminder of the possibility of suffering and misery, except when some hungry, barefooted, half-naked deserter, covered only by a dirty blanket bound around his lean loins with a leathern belt, stole away from the famishing camp of Washington, and fled to the well-fed ranks of the ene my. These poor wretches gave a doleful account of the sufferings of the Ameri cans, of which they themselves were the most expressive illustrations ; and yet the British commander, much to the vexation of some of his more martial associates, never moved from his comfortable quar ters to strike the blow against the Ameri can army in its distress which they be lieved would have crushed it at once, and thus paved the way to a speedy subjec tion of the whole country to the royal authority. "Had General Howe," said one, " led on his troops to action, victory was in his power and conquest in his train." In this dark hour of the Ameri can Revolution, it was perhaps fortunate for the safety of Washington's army, if not for the ultimate triumph of liberty itself, that the chief command of the Brit ish forces devolved upon the indolent and procrastinating Howe instead of the active Cornwallis or the vigilant and energetic Clinton. Every one in the British camp, howev er, was now absorbed in the pursuit of pleasure. The officers no longer troubled themselves about winning or losing bat ties : they were far more intent upon the chances of the faro-table. They cared not to have the roar of the cannon thundered in their ears, while they could listen to the voluptuous tunings of the sweet voices of the " tory ladies " of Philadelphia. The glory and real tragedies of the battle-field were gladly exchanged for the mock he roics and the melodramatic horrors of the stage. As an officer of the army presided over the gaming-table, so British colonels, majors, captains, lieutenants, and ensigns, turned players, and got up theatrical per formances. They enacted tragedy, and comedy, and pantomime ; and won more decided triumphs on the stage than they had ever hoped for on the field of battle. Major Andre, with his ready accomplish ments with the pen and the pencil, was in great requisition. He wrote farces, and painted scenes. His " waterfall " drop- curtain was a masterpiece of theatrical art, and 'hung in the Southwark theatre, at Phil adelphia, long after the unfortunate mili tary artist ceased to live. The New- York loyalist captain, Delancey, was one of An dre's most active coadjutors in the dra matic department. In the grand balls, revolutionary.] GENERAL HOWE RESIGNS— THE "MISCHIANZA." 91 as in all the gayeties of the season, these two officers shone also as chief masters of ceremonies. The revels of the British army reached their climax in the ever-memorable Mis chianza. This, as its Italian name indi cates, was a " medley" entertainment. We must, however, somewhat anticipate the progress of events, in order to understand the occasion of this splendid folly. The British government, having become dis satisfied with Sir William Howe's conduct of the campaign, was free in its censures. The general was no less ready to justify himself, declaring that his plans had been thwarted by the obstructions thrown in his way by the ministry. They both con tinued to indulge in mutual recrimina tion, until finally Sir William resigned his command. His resignation was accepted, and the general was about departing for England, when his officers, with whom he was a great favorite from the suavity of his manners (and probably also from his too lax discipline), determined to express their regard for him by getting up the Mischianza in his honor. The entertainment took place on the 18th of May, 1778, and consisted of two principal parts — a regatta on the water, and a tournament on land. For the ex penses of the occasion, all the army would have joyfully contributed, as Sir William was a universal favorite ; but it was final ly agreed that they should be defrayed by twenty- two field-officers. Sir John Wrottlesey, Colonel O'Hara, Major Gar diner, and Montressor, the chief-engineer, were the managers appointed. Major An dre, however, who wrote a glowing ac count of all the glories of the occasion, might have said, " Quorum magna pars sui;" for he, together with his dramatic coad jutor Delancey, bore a prominent part in the preparations and celebration of the Mischianza. He painted the scenery, sug gested the decorations, and planned the pageant. The very cards of invitation, in their preliminary display, gave promise of the brilliancy of the coming show. These were as large as playing-cards, and upon them was engraved in a shield a view of the sea, with the setting sun, Sir William Howe's crest and motto, "Vive vale!" and the complimentary words, "Luceo disce- dens, aucto splendore resurgam : I shine even WHILE SETTING, AND SHALL ARISE WITH IN CREASED splendor !" — alluding to the .gen eral's popularity at his departure, and prophesying his future glory. Around the shield was a wreath of laurel; while such military insignia as flags, sword shan non, and field-batons, completed the pic ture. A grand regatta began the entertain ment. It consisted of three divisions. In the first was the Ferret galley, with Sir William and Lord Howe, Sir Henry Clin ton (who had arrived from New York as Howe's successor in the command), the officers of their suites, and some ladies. The Cornwallis galley brought up the rear, having on board the earl himself, General Knyphausen and his suite, three British generals, and a party of ladies. On each quarter of these galleys, and forming their division, were five flatboats, lined with green cloth, and filled with la dies and gentlemen. In advance of the 92 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. whole were three flat-boats, with a band of music in each. Six barges rowed about each flank, to keep off the swarm of boats that covered the Delaware from side to side. The galleys were dressed out in a variety of colors and streamers, and in each flatboat was displayed the flag of its own division. In the stream, opposite the centre of the city, the armed ship Fanny, magnifi cently decorated, was placed at anchor ; and at some distance ahead lay his maj esty's frigate Roebuck, with the admiral's flag hoisted at the fore-topmast head. The transport-ships, extending in a line, the whole, length of the town, appeared with colors flying, and crowded with specta tors, as were also the opening of the sev eral wharves on shore, exhibiting the most picturesque and enlivening scene which the eye could desire to look upon. The rendezvous appointed for the whole was at Knight's wharf, at the northern extremity of the city. By half-past four o'clock in the morning the whole company was embarked, and the signal being made by the ship-of-war Vigilant, the three divis ions rowed slowly down, preserving their proper intervals of distance, and keeping time to the music, which led the fleet. Arrived between the Fanny and the Mar ket wharf, a signal was made from one of the boats ahead, and the whole lay upon their oars, while the bands played " God save the King!" and three cheers giv en from the vessels were returned from the multitude on shore. By this time the flood-tide became too rapid for the gal leys to advance; they were therefore May 18. quitted, and the company disposed of in different barges. The landing-place was at the old fort, near the present navy-yard, a little to the southward of the town, before Wharton's mansion, from which a broad greensward, lined with rows of tall trees, stretched in a gentle descent for four hundred yards down to the water-side. As soon as the general's barge was seen to push from the shore, a salute of seventeen guns was fired from the Roebuck, which was followed, after a short interval, by the same num ber from the Vigilant. The company, as they disembarked, arranged themselves in aline of procession, and advanced through an avenue formed by two files of grena diers, and a line of lighthorse supporting each file. The avenue led to a square lawn of one hundred "and fifty yards on each side, lined with troops, and properly prepared for the exhibition of a tilt and tournament, according to the customs and ordinances of ancient chivalry. The pro cession marched through the centre of the square. The music, consisting of all the bands of the army, moved in front. The managers, with favors of blue and white ribbons on their breasts, followed next in order. The general, the admiral, and the rest of the company, proceeded promiscuously. In front appeared Wharton's large and elegant mansion, which bounded the view through a vista formed by two triumphal arches erected at proper intervals in a line with the landing-place. Two pavil ions, with rows of benches rising one above another, and serving as the "ad vanced wings" (as Andre, in his military revolutionary.] THE GRAND TOURNAMENT. 93 phrase, describes them) of the first tri umphal arch, received the ladies ; while the gentlemen arranged themselves in convenient order on each side. On the front seat of each pavilion were placed seven of the principal young ladies of the country, dressed in Turkish habits, and wearing in their turbans the favors with which they designed to reward the sev eral knights who were to contend in their honor. These arrangements were hardly com pleted, when the sound of trumpets was heard at a distance ; and soon a band of knights, dressed in ancient habits of white and red silk, and mounted on noble gray horses, richly caparisoned in trappings of the same colors, entered the lists, attend ed by their esquires on foot, in suitable apparel, in the following order: four trum peters, properly habited, their trumpets decorated with small pendent banners ; a herald, in his robe of ceremony, with a device of his band on it, consisting of two white roses intertwined, with the motto, " We drop when separated." Lord Cathcart, mounted on a superb horse led by grooms, appeared as chief of these knights. Two young black slaves, with sashes and draw ers of blue and white silk, wearing large silver clasps round their necks and arms, their breasts and shoulders bare, held his stirrups. On his right and left walked his two esquires, one bearing his lance and the other his shield, upon which was the device of Cupid riding a lion, with the motto, " Surmounted by Love." His lord ship appeared in honor of Miss Auchmuty. Then followed his six knights, each splen didly accoutred and mounted, accompa- 77 nied by his esquire bearing his shield, and prepared to do service for his " lady e love." Among these "Knights of the Blended Rose" appeared Andre himself, then hold ing the rank of captain, with his youth ful brother, only nineteen years of age, a lieutenant in the army. After the knights had rode up and made the circuit of the square, they sa luted the ladies as they passed before the pavilions, and then ranged themselves in a line wdth the seat of the dames of the "Blended Rose," whose pre-eminent beau ty, wit, and accomplishments, they were prepared to prove by their arms, as their herald declared, against all who should dare to deny them. Three times the chal lenge was sounded. At the third, a her ald, with four trumpeters, dressed in black and orange, galloped into the lists. He was met by the herald of the " Blended Rose," and, after a brief parley, he of the " Knights of the Burning Mountain" loud ly sounded his trumpet, and proclaimed defiance to the challenge, declaring that the knights of the " Burning Mountain " came to disprove by deeds, and not by words, the vainglorious assertions of the knights of the " Blended Rose." The knights of the " Burning Mount ain" now rode in, headed by their chief Each had his squire, shield, and device, and was ready to do service for his espe cial dame. They, having made the cir cuit of the lists, and their obeisance to all the ladies, reined up their horses defi antly in front of the knights of the "Blend ed Rose." The chief of the latter then threw down his gauntlet, which was or dered to be taken up by the esquire of 94 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. the chief of the "Burning Mountain." Each knight now took his lance and shield from his esquire ; and the two opposing bands, after making a general salute to each other by a graceful movement of their lances, turned to take their career, and, encountering in full gallop, shivered their spears. In the second and third en counters they discharged their pistols. In the fourth they fought with their swords. At length the two chiefs, spurring for ward into the centre, engaged furiously in single combat, till the marshal of the field rushed in between the champions, and declared that the fair damsels of the "Blended Rose" and "Burning Mount ain" were perfectly satisfied with the proofs of love and the signal feats of val or given by their respective knights, and commanded them, as they prized the fu ture favors of their mistresses, that they would instantly desist from further com bat. Obedience being paid to this order, the chiefs joined their respective array of knights. A passage being now opened between the two pavilions, the knights, preceded by their squires and the bands of music, rode through the first triumphal arch, and arrayed themselves to the right and left. This arch was erected in honor of Lord Howe. It presented two fronts, in the Tuscan order. The pediment was adorned with various naval trophies, and at the top was the figure of Neptune, with a trident in his right hand. In a niche on each side stood a sailor with a drawn cutlass. Three plumes of feathers were placed on the summit of each wing, and in the entablature was a Latin inscription, saying that praise was his due, but that his soul was above praise. From this arch led an avenue three hundred feet long and thirty-four broad, lined on each side with troops; while beyond all the colors of the army were planted at prop er intervals, between which the knights and squires took their stations. The bands struck up a succession of martial tunes, and the procession then moved forward. The ladies, in thfeir Turkish habits, led the way ; and, as they passed, they were saluted by the knights, who dismounted and joined them. Thus the whole com pany passed through a second triumphal arch into the garden which fronted the " Wharton mansion." The second arch, like the first, was of the Tuscan order, and was dedicated to Sir William Howe. On the interior part of the pediment was painted a plume of feathers, and various military trophies. At the top stood the figure of Fame, and in the entablature was this Latin inscrip tion : UI, bono, quo virtus tua te vocal ; I pede fausto : Go, good one, where thy virtue SHALL CALL THEE; MAY PROSPERITY ATTEND thy steps !" On the right-hand pillar was placed a bomb, and on the left a flaming heart. The front of the arch next to the house was covered with fireworks, ar ranged in ornamental forms, ready to be fired in the course of the night. From the garden a flight of steps cov ered with carpet led to a spacious hall, which was adorned with panelling paint ed in imitation of Sienna marble, cleverly executed by Captain Andre himself, who had transferred his brush from the canvas of the theatre to the walls of the Whar- revolutionary.] THE BALL AND THE BANQUET. 95 ton house for this grand occasion. In the hall and in the adjoining apartments were prepared tea, lemonade, and other cooling drinks, to which the company seated them selves according to the comfortable prac tice of those good old-fashioned times. While they were thus regaling them selves, the knights came in, and on bend ed knees received their favors from their respective ladies. There was one apartment of the man sion especially devoted to the most ab sorbing interest of that time. Here was the faro-table ; and, as if mocking at their own vice, these reckless debauchees had painted on a panel over the chimney, so that it might be the first object seen on entering the room, a cornucopia, filled to overflowing with flowers of the richest colors, while over the door of exit was represented another, which was shrunk, reversed, and emptied ! Thus was sym bolized the doom of the gamester, who, en tering with abundance, was destined to go away empty from that fatal hall. Above these lower apartments were ball and refreshment rooms, illuminated with hundreds of wax-lights, hung with rose-colored drapery, painted with grace ful forms and rich devices, festooned with wreaths of natural flowers, and all reflect ed brilliantly from the numerous mirrors on the walls. The ball was opened by the knights and their ladies, and the dance was kept up until ten o'clock, when the windows were thrown open on that warm spring night, and a magnificent bouquet of rockets began the display of fireworks, which had been prepared under the su pervision of Captain Montressor, the chief- May 18. engineer. As the rockets shot into the air, and the fire-balloons burst into a blaze of light, the interior of the triumphal arch was illuminated. The military trophies shone out resplendently in variegated col ors ; and Fame appeared at the summit, spangled with stars, and blowing from her trumpet in letters of light, "Les lauriers sont immortels : His laurels are immortal." At twelve o'clock at night, sup per was announced; and large folding-doors, until this moment artfully hidden, were suddenly thrown open, dis covering a magnificent saloon of two hun dred and ten feet by forty, and twenty- two feet in height, with three alcoves on each side, which served as sideboards. The ceiling was the segment of a circle ; and the sides were painted of a light straw- color, with vine-leaves and festoons of flowers, some in a bright, some in a dark ish green. Fifty-six large pier-glasses, or namented with green-silk artificial flow ers and ribbons ; one hundred branches, with three lights in each, trimmed in the same manner as the mirrors; eighteen lustres, each with twenty-four lights, sus pended from the ceiling, and ornamented as the branches ; three hundred wax-ta pers, disposed along the supper-tables; four hundred and thirty covers ; twelve hundred dishes ; twenty-four black slaves in oriental dresses, with silver collars and bracelets, ranged in two lines, and bend ing to the ground as the general and the admiral approached the saloon, formed together " the most brilliant assemblage of gay objects, and appearing at once as we entered by an easy descent," wrote Captain Andre, in his glowing account of 96 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. the scene, " exhibited a coup oVceil beyond description magnificent." Toward the close of the ban quet, the herald of the " Blended Rose," habited in his robes of ceremony, and attended by his trumpeters, entered the saloon, and proclaimed the health of the king, the queen, and the royal fami ly ; the army and the navy, with their re spective commanders^ the knights and their ladies ; and the ladies in general — each of the toasts being followed by a flourish of music. After supper, the dan cing was resumed, and was kept up until four o'clock the next morning. The ladies present on the occasion were all Americans, with the exception of Miss Auchmuty, the subsequent bride of Cap tain Montressor. They became memora ble ever after as the "Mischianza ladies" and a rigid patriotism frowned awhile up on them, but it soon yielded to the smiles of beauty ; and Americans, in their pro verbial gallantry toward the other sex, forgot all distinctions between "tory" and " whig." Miss Shippen, one of the fairest damsels of the Mischianza, became after ward the dashing bride of General Ar nold. Miss Franks, rendered famous by General Charles Lee's witty letter ad dressed to her, was the reigning belle on the occasion. She attracted all by the blaze of her beauty, only to wither them in the fire of her wit. " Give us 'Britons, strike home !' " shouted Sir Henry Clinton to the musicians. " The commander-in- chief has made a mistake," exclaimed Miss Franks; he meant to say, 'Britons — go home!'" She is acknowledged to have been beaten only once in those martial days, in the war of words, which she wras ever ready to wage with whig or tory, general or subaltern, and then by that old campaigner,, in the letter to which al lusion has been made, and which she re ceived with anger, a sure sign of defeat. " Paine," observes Lossing, " in one of the numbers of his paper called ' The Cri sis', 'gave a laughable account of this farce" (of the Mischianza). "Alluding to Gen eral Howe, he says, ' He bounces off, with his bombs and burning hearts set upon the pillars of his triumphant arch, which, at the proper time of the show, burst out with a shower of squibs and crackers, and other fireworks, to the delight and amaze ment of Miss Craig, Miss Chew, Miss Red man, and all the other misses, dressed out as the fair damsels of the Blended Rose, and of the Burning Mountain, for this farce of knighterrantry.' How strange that such sensible men as these two com manders were, should have consented to receive such gross adulation !" revolutionary.] THE CONSPIRATORS AT WORK.— CONWAY AND GATES. 97 CHAPTER LXVII. Washington and his Slanderers. — General Gates in Opposition. — General Conway. — Letter from Washington. — Conway made Inspector-General. — The Anti-Washington Faction in the Ascendant. — The Cabal. — Intrigue. — Exposure. — General Wilkinson. — His Account of the Affair. — Lord Stirling in his Cups. — A Challenge. — No Blood shed. — Con way detected and exposed. — His Resignation. — His Duel with General Cadwallader. — Atonement of a Dying Man. — An Immortality of Dishonor. — Improvement at Valley Forge. — Supplies. — Arrival of Mrs. Washington. — Visiters. — General Charles Lee exchanged. — His Arrival in the American Camp. — Ethan Allen. — Lafayette appointed to com mand an Expedition to Canada. — The Marquis remains faithful to Washington. — He is flattered in vain by the " Ca bal." — To Albany and back again. — Baron Steuben. — His Life and Character. — He is appointed Inspector-General. — Anecdotes. — The Baron's Services. 1778. There were not only the trials of the command of an army of fam ishing soldiers, constantly on the verge of mutiny, to which their crying wants provoked and almost justified them in yielding, to perplex the head and wound the heart of Washington; he was now tormented by the stings of scandal, and harassed by the opposition of the factions in the army and in Congress. The com mander-in-chief had long been conscious that there were some who were disposed to depreciate his military character, and elevate their own at his expense. He saw that General Gates, forgetful of his old friendship, and though bound to him by every tie of gratitude, had become dis affected, and neglected no opportunity of wounding his sensibilities and thwarting his purposes. Gates was a vain man, and his triumph at Saratoga, and the flatte ries which followed, seem to have raised him to such a giddy height in his own esteem, that his head turned. After the surrender of Burgoyne, ordinary courtesy should have impelled General Gates to write to Washington, but he was guilty of the indignity of neglecting this obvi ous duty. The commander-in-chief, with conscious dignity, either left these marks of disrespect and indications of opposition unnoticed, or remarked upon them as the usual accompaniments of high trust and position. When, however, he discovered that his enemies were seriously organi zing into a party to overthrow him, and to take the lead in the conduct of affairs, he was resolved to check them, if not for his own sake, yet for the sake of the cause which he loved too much to expose to the mercy of such guides. The first notice which the general-in- chief deigned to take of the intrigues of his enemies, was this note from him to General Conway : — " Camp, Nov. 16, 1777. "Sir: A letter which I received last night contained the following paragraph : "'In a letter from General Conway to General Gates, he says, "Heaven has deter mined to save your country, or a weak general and bad counsellors would have ruined it." ' " I am, sir, your humble servant, " George Washington." 98 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. Dec. 16. General Conway, on the receipt of this, without denying the words which were attributed to him, strove immediately, by letter, or an interview with the command er-in-chief, to explain them away; but the result was so unsatisfactory, that, appa rently in conscious guilt, he offered his resignation. This was not accepted, and in the course of a month, and near the close of the year 1777, Conway was appointed inspector-general of the army, with the rank of major-gen eral. The bitterest opponent of Wash ington was thus elevated by Congress to this high position even after his intrigues against the commander-in-chief had be come known, and when Washington had already (before he was aware of Conway's personal attacks upon him) written these words while the question was being agi tated months before about such an ap pointment : " It will be as unfortunate a measure as ever was adopted ; I may add, and I think with truth, that it will give a fatal blow to the existence of the army." The faction opposed to Washington, however, was now in the ascendant in Congress. A board of war was appoint ed, in which those suspected of intrigues against the commander-in-chief formed the majority, and were the most promi nent members. General Gates became president; General Mifflin, supposed to be leagued with Gates and Conway in an effort to supplant Washington, and place one of the three in the chief command, was a member ; Timothy Pickering, late adjutantgeneral, Joseph Trumbull, the former commissary, and Richard Peters, composed the rest of the new board. Si multaneously with the creation of this board, Conway received his appointment as inspector-general, with the rank of major-general, and was thus promoted above all the brigadiers of older date ! The army, by whom Washington was be loved above all, became indignant, and the officers and soldiers freely denounced the faction which they did not hesitate to de clare controlled the action of Congress, to the injury of the great interests of the country. But faction continued awhile to govern that body, and some of its mem bers strove by secret as well as by open means to accomplish their partisan ends. Anonymous letters were written to the governors of the states and to the officials of Congress, to sound them and to gain them over, by attacks upon the military conduct of Washington and his favorite officers, by laudatory accounts of the tri umphs of Gates, and of the ability of that general and his friends. The letter of Washington to Conway, however, brought the whole intrigue to an issue; and when the army and the country showed their indignation at this attempt to destroy the character of the commander-in-chief, there was not one of those suspected who was not anxious to clear himself of all suspicion of being a participator in the disreputable scheme. On hearing of Washington's letter to Con way, General Gates at first seemed only eager to discover the person who had be trayed his confidence ; but when popular indignation was excited, his subsequent efforts, in the course of which he wrote several prevaricating and contradictory letters to Washington, were directed tow- REVOLUTIONARY.] WILKINSON AND LORD STIRLING. 99 ard explaining the offensive passage quo ted, which, having been repeated in the course of conversation, may not have been literally given, though it is now general ly believed to have presented the spirit of the original words. Wilkinson, who was a heedless, loqua cious youth, at that time, and much given to vaunting his intimacy with the then "great man" of the day (General Gates), was the one to whom was traced the abuse of confidence of which Gates so strongly complained. It will be recollect ed that Wilkinson was sent to Congress, to "present Gates's report of his triumph at Saratoga. In the course of his jour ney, his progress was so slow (whether from a desire of prolonging the glory re flected upon him by his message, or from the mere distractions of pleasure natural to youth), that when it was proposed in Congress, upon his arrival, that a sword should be voted him as the bearer of such good news, Doctor Witherspoon, then a member, shrewdly observed in his native Scotch, "I think ye'll better gie the lad a pair o' spurs !" While Wilkinson was leisurely pursuing his way, big with the importance of his commission, he put up at Reading, in Pennsylvania. But we shall let him tell his own story : — " I arrived," says Wilkinson, " the even ing of the 27th [of October], and was vis ited by General Mifflin, with whom I had been acquainted at the siege of Boston. He wished me to take tea with him, and I found two eastern members of Congress at his house. I was minutely questioned by them respecting the military opera tions in the North; General Washington's misfortunes were strictured severely by them, and General Conway's criticisms again mentioned. General Mifflin ap peared exceedingly despondent, and ob served that he considered the insurance of buildings at Reading against the dep redations of the enemy worthy reflection. " This evening it began to rain, and the next day it fell in torrents. Lord Stir ling was confined at this village [Read ing], in consequence of a fall from his horse ; and being myself detained by the weather, for I dared not ride in the rain, I consented at his earnest request to take a potluck dinner with him, and was hap py to meet my friend Major Monroe (af terward president), in capacity of aid-de camp to his lordship. With a noble de portment and dignified manners, Lord Stirling combined sound education and respectable talents. I speak of his foibles with reluctance, for he was an officer of conspicuous gallantry. His addictions were notorious, and his fondness for a long set not the least remarkable, for no man could be more strongly disposed to fight his battles over again. The earl had another aid-de-camp, by the name of M'Williams, whom I had never seen be fore. "We dined agreeably, and I did not get away from his lordship before mid night, the rain continuing to pour down without intermission. In the course of the day, his lordship fought over the bat tie of Long island in detail, and favored me with recitals of all the affairs in which he had subsequently performed a part ; and I reciprocated information of such transactions in the North as could inter- 100 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. est or amuse him. The conversation was too copious and diffuse for me to have charged my memory with particulars, and from the circumstances of it was confi dential." His lordship, notwithstanding his " ad dictions," did not seem on that occasion to have poured down wine of sufficient potency to steal away his brains ; for his memory remained in such full possession, that he distinctly recollected that Wilkin son had said that General Gates had re ceived a letter in which were these words, written by Conway : " Heaven has deter mined to save your country, or a weak general and bad counsellors would have ruined it." The earl immediately wrote the words down, and sent them to Wash ington, with his authority ; and the com mander-in-chief, as we have seen, sent them back to Conway, and thus brought the " Conivay cabal" (as it has been called) to light, and subsequent dishonor. Wilkinson was provoked at being dis covered as the cause of the excitement which ensued, and being made the object of the indignation of his patron, General Gates. In the fretting of his youthful spirit, he declared, " My lord shall bleed for his conduct !" but he first determined that the blood of Gates should flow, the general having denounced him in strong terms for his abuse of confidence. A chal lenge was given and accepted, and the preliminaries for the duello were all ar ranged, when Wilkinson, according to his own report of the occurrence, being fully armed and accompanied by his seconds, on proceeding to the ground, was called aside by Captain Stoddert, and informed that General Gates desired to speak with him. "I expressed my astonishment," says Wilkinson, " and observed it was impos sible. He replied, with much agitation : : For God's sake, be not always a fool ! Come along, and see him !' Struck with the manner of my friend, I inquired where the general was. He answered, ' In the street, near the door.' The surprise robbed me of circumspection. I requested Colo nel Ball [his second] to halt, and followed Captain Stoddert. I found General Gates unarmed and alone, and was received with tenderness but manifest embarrassment. He asked me to walk, turned into a back street, and we proceeded in silence till we passed the buildings, when he burst into tears, took me by the hand, and asked me how I could think he wished to injure me. I was too deeply affected to speak, and he relieved my embarrass ment by continuing : 'I injure you ? It is impossible ! I should as soon think of injuring my own child.' This language not only disarmed me, but awakened all my confidence and all my tenderness." Wilkinson went away satisfied, but still bent upon carrying out his bloody de signs against Lord Stirling. Wilkinson wrote a letter to his lord- ship, in which he did not pretend to deny having quoted the words sent to Wash ington, although in his explanations with Gates he appeared to be entirely uncon scious of having done so, but merely re quired from Stirling a statement that the conversation he had published "passed in a private company during a convivial hour." The earl could not refuse so rea- revolutionary.] CONWAY'S " CABAL."— DUEL WITH CADWALLADER. 101 sonable a request, and readily certified to the fact ; which was so satisfactory, that it not only proved a balm to the wound of Wilkinson's nice sensibility, but a pre ventive of the mischief threatening his lordship. General Conway was deemed the main instigator of these disgraceful intrigues against Washington; and the country soon began to discover, as the command er-in-chief had predicted, that he was " a secret enemy, or, in other words, a dan gerous incendiary." Sustained by a ma jority in Congress, Conway enjoyed a short triumph ; but, as he became inso lent and overbearing in success, he soon disgusted even those who had been his warmest friends. Not satisfied with wri ting letters to the commander-in-chief, which the latter did not hesitate to term " impertinent," demanding the command of a division in the army, he ventured to complain to Congress of ill treatment, and to offer his resignation, in such terms of contemptuous disrespect, that even his friends did not oppose the vote that it should be accepted. Conway himself was sorely displeased at being taken at his word, and afterward strove, by letter and personal interview, to withdraw his resig nation, but without effect. Without em ployment, he still lingered in America, venting his spleen upon Washington and his army, when he was called to account by General Cadwallader. A duel was the consequence ; and Conway received the ball of his antagonist, which passed into his mouth and through the upper part of his neck, in its course justly lacerating that "unruly member" which had villified 78 the character and motives of the great chief. He believed himself to be a dying man, and had the grace to write the fol lowing letter to Washington : — " Slr : I find myself just able to hold the pen during a few minutes, and take this opportunity of expressing my sincere grief for having done, written, or said any thing disagreeable to your excellency. My career will soon be over ; therefore justice and truth prompt me to declare my last sentiments. You are, in my eyes, the great and good man. May you long en joy the love, veneration, and esteem, of these states, whose liberties you have as serted by your virtues. " I am, " With the greatest respect, &c, "Thomas Conway." The wounded general, however, sur vived his injuries, and returned to France, his adopted country ; leaving behind him, as an immortality of dishonor in America, the ill-favored association of his name with the disreputable " Conway cabal." Toward spring, the aspect of the Amer ican camp became more encouraging. A committee of Congress had been sent to Valley Forge, to confer with Washington upon the organization of a better system for the army. The commander-in-chief, in conjunction with his officers, prepared a document, in which a plan of reform was laid down, which subsequently was for the most part adopted. There was yet much suffering, before the new sys tem could be thoroughly carried out ; but already supplitfe began to arrive, and the troops, if still deprived of comforts, were 102 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. no longer in imminent dread of frost and famine. The camp was also enlightened by the arrival of some distinguished visiters. Mrs. Washington had come to solace with her presence the trials and anxieties of the general, and was cheerfully submit ting to the rude hospitalities of the log- huts of Valley Forge. General Greene, Lord Stirling, and General Knox, likewise had their wives now in camp. Bryan Fair fax, his old Virginia friend and neighbor, who, though still loyal to his king, did not fail to show his warm attachment to the American general by a cordial visit on his way from the banks of the Poto mac to New York, and again on his re turn. General Charles Lee, by an ex change for the British general Prescott (captured on Rhode island), was now re instated in his old position as second in command, and, although still tenacious of his oddities, was observed to be more sub dued in the exhibition of them. During the later days of his captivity he had had little to complain of in his treatment. He enjoyed, as he tells us, the full liberty of the city of New York and its limits ; had horses at his command, furnished by Sir Henry Clinton and General Robertson; and had lodged with two of " the oldest and warmest friends" he had in the world, Colonel Butler and Colonel Disney, of the forty-second regiment. With this taste of the conventional comforts of life and of the pleasures of society, Lee seemed temporarily sweetened to a better humor, and his return was cordially welcomed. He soon recurred, however to his old bit terness of temper. The brawny Colonel Ethan Allen was also restored to liberty, and was flashing out, in his stormy eloquence, the lightning of his indignation against the tyrants of his country. He found ready listeners, in the camp at Valley Forge, to his rude oratory and to the wondrous story he had to tell of his strange adventures and daring feats during his long captivity and compulsory travels. He was, he declared, ready again to meet the foes of his coun try ; and Washington having obtained for him a colonel's commission, it was expect ed that he would still have remained to do doughty deeds, but he preferred to return to his adopted country (Vermont), where he lived to tell over and over, in swelling words, the history of his strange experience. The young marquis Lafayette had been temporarily withdrawn from the camp. The new board of war, under the presi dency of General Gates, had proposed an expedition against Canada. This was supposed to have been devised for the es pecial glory of the " Conway cabal ;" and an appointment in the enterprise was of fered to the young Frenchman, with the hope of securing his adhesion to that fac tion. Lafayette accepted the offer — not, however, until he had consulted Washing ton — and soon proved that all attempts upon his fidelity to the commander-in- chief were futile. His first rebuke, ad ministered to the conspirators, was at Yorktown, where he had gone to receive from Congress his instructions. Here he was welcomed by the " cabal," and flat tered by every possible attention. Dining with General Gates, who was surrounded REVOLUTIONARY.] ARRIVAL OF THE BARON STEUBEN. 103 by a circle of his particular friends and admirers, the wine passed freely, and, as was usual in those days, toasts were given. As the company were about rising, Lar fayette filled his glass, and, reminding those at the table that they had forgot ten one toast, gave deliberately, "The commander-in-chief of the American ar mies." It was received with a coolness which proved what he had suspected — that he was not surrounded by the friends of Washington. Lafayette, however, proceeded on his journey ; but, on reaching Albany, where he had been led to believe that at least three thousand men and a large supply of military stores were in readiness for the expedition to Canada, he met with a great disappointment, which is emphatic ally described in his letter to Washing ton : "I don't believe," he writes, "I can find, in all, twelve hundred men fit for duty, and the greatest part of these are naked, even for a summer campaign. I was to find General Stark, with a large body; and, indeed, General Gates told me, ' General Stark will have burned the fleet be fore your arrival! Well, the first letter I receive in Albany is from General Stark, who wishes to know what number of men, from where, what time, and for what ren dezvous, I desire him to raise? The young marquis, with the nice sense of ridicule peculiar to a cultivated French man, was heartily ashamed of the affair, and, with rather unnecessary sensitive ness, was fearful that he was disgraced in the eyes of the world for the failure of an expedition so fruitful in promise but so abortive in issue. He wrote to Wash ington, expressing his anxieties, and re ceived an answer, in which he was judi ciously told that his fears respecting his reputation were " excited by an uncom mon degree of sensibility." The young Frenchman soon returned to the camp at Valley Forge, where he resumed his com mand of a division of the army, and his frequent intercourse with Washington, by whom he was greatly beloved. There was another arrival in the camp, of more importance than all. It was that of the baron Frederick William Augustus Steuben, a distinguished Prussian officer. An old aid-de-camp of the great Freder ick, he had learned and practised war un der the first military tactician of Europe, and now came with a singular vicissitude to impart to a people struggling for in dependence the lessons which he had ac quired in the service of the most arbitra ry of kings. Steuben's repute in Europe was so high, that crowned heads competed for him as an officer in their armies. The emperor of Austria and the king of Sar dinia both liberally bid for his services ; and he was created grand marshal of the court of Prince Hohenzollern-Heckingen, and lieutenantgeneral and knight of the order of Fidelity under the prince-mar grave of Baden, and in the enjoyment of other dignities, with an emolument which amounted to about three thousand dollars annually, when he resolved upon going to America. While visiting Paris, the baron listened with interest to the accounts which he heard from the French ministers of the American cause, and they succeeded in persuading him to join his fortunes with 104 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. it. Franklin and Deane, then the Ameri can agents in France, gladly welcomed the acquisition of the baron, from whose thorough practise as a military disciplina rian they expected good service in the training of the loosely-ordered American army, and gave him strong letters of rec ommendation. The versatile Beaumar- chais, the author of "Figaro" — by turns watchmaker, playwright, courtier, and financier — was just then, while perform ing in the last capacity, under the aus pices of the French court, supplying the United States with money and military stores. Under the assumed mercantile names of " Roderique, Hotales, and Com pany," the ever-active Beaumarchais had got ready a ship and a cargo for his cus tomers in America, and he now offered the baron Steuben a passage. Le Heureux (for that was the well-omened name of the vessel) made a rough and dangerous voyage, but finally landed the baron in safety at Portsmouth, in New Hampshire, on the 1st of November, 1777. On his arrival, he sent forward his letters from Franklin and Deane, with one from him self, to Washington : — " The object of my greatest ambition," wrote the baron, " is to render your coun try all the service in my power, and to deserve the title of a citizen of America, by fighting for the cause of your liberty. If the distinguished ranks in which I have served in Europe should be an obstacle, I had rather serve under your excellency as a volunteer than to be an object of dis content among such deserving officers as have already distinguished themselves among you. " I could say, moreover, were it not for fear of offending your modesty, that your excellency is the only person under whom, after having served under the king of Prussia, I could wish to pursue an art to which I have wholly given myself up." Franklin, in his letter, spoke warmly of the claims of Steuben. " He goes to America with a true zeal for our cause, and a view of engaging in it, and render ing it all the service in his power. He is recommended to us by two of the best judges of military merit in this country, M. le comte de Vergennes and M. le comte de St. Germain, who have long been per sonally acquainted with him, and inter est themselves in promoting his voyage, from the full persuasion that the knowl edge and experience he has acquired by twenty years' study and practice in the Prussian school may be of great use in our armies." Steuben, on presenting himself to Con gress, offered his services as a volunteer, which were accepted with expressions of acknowledgment for his generous disin terestedness. He then proceeded to the camp at Valley Forge. The baron made a favorable first impression upon Wash ington, who thus wrote : " He appears to be much of a gentleman, and, as far as I have had an opportunity of judging, a man of military knowledge, and acquaint ed with the world." He had not been many days in camp, when Washington so highly appreciated his abilities, that he recommended Congress to appoint him inspector-general of the army, an office to which the faction had raised General Con way, but who never fulfilled its duties. revolutionary.] CHARACTER AND SERVICES OF STEUBEN. 105 The baron Steuben was accordingly ap- pointed inspector-general of the army, with the rank of major- general, and immediately assumed his new position. Other inspectors were ap pointed, subordinate to him. Of these were Ternant and Fleury, both of whom were gallant and efficient officers, who had been disciplined in the armies of France, and who, being fair English schol ars, were enabled to act as interpreters to the baron, of whose aid in this respect he stood greatly in need, as his own Eng lish vocabulary was as yet very limited. Steuben was also glad to avail himself of the assistance of Captain Walker, who un derstood French, and whom he appointed his aid. The baron, with his portly form, his somewhat venerable appearance (though he was but forty-eight years of age), his rich uniform, his splendid diamond-and- gold order of Fidelity hanging from his neck, and his military formalities of man ner, made a great impression upon the raw troops whom he now undertook to teach the tactics of war. He was a rigid disciplinarian, and exacted the most mi nute obedience to orders. His scrutini zing eye was everywhere along the line, and upon each soldier, closely inspecting every position and every article of accou trement and dress. He required that the musket and bayonet should exhibit the brightest polish ; not a spot of rust, or defect in any part, could elude his vigi lance. He was as severe in his exactions of duty from the officers as from the men. His attention was directed to every de partment. From the surgeons he re quired lists of the sick, a statement of their accommodations and mode of treat ment, and did not hesitate to visit the hospitals himself. His trials may well be conceived to have been severe, with the rude, inde pendent material which he was striving to form into an orderly soldiery ; and on some occasions his patience and his vo cabulary were alike exhausted. " Viens, Walker ; vien, bon ami, curse ! G-d d — n de gaucherie of dese badauts ! je ne puis plus — I can curse dem no more !" cried out the baron one day to Captain Walker, his aid- de-camp, when the stupidity of some raw recruits had drawn so liberally upon his polyglott vocabulary of oaths as to leave him destitute of resource. Severe, however, as Steuben was as a military disciplinarian, he wras the kindest of human creatures. He was so charita ble, and gave away his money so freely, that he never had a dollar for himself! Washington said that if any specific sum, however large, were bestowed upon Steu ben, his generous heart would keep him poor, and he would die a beggar. He was simple in his habits, an early riser, and a moderate man at the table ; but he was so socially inclined, that he always kept open house for all who came. He was so generous, that he was known to have sold his watch, to supply the wants of a sick friend ; and his horse, to enter tain a guest ! He was only careless of his own interests ; and while his own ex chequer was empty, and his accounts in confusion, he was so regardful of the pub lic property confided to his trust, that, while inspector-general, only three mus- 106 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. kets were found deficient, and these ac counted for in his return to the war de partment. Before his appointment, five thousand muskets were always the allow ance made in the estimate for loss, in the number actually supplied. Steuben's services in organizing and drilling the American army were so great, that the regulars who had been formed under his eye were said never to have been beaten in a fair engagement with the enemy. CHAPTER LXVIIL Occasional Skirmishes. — "Light-Horse Harry." — A Successful Defence. — Wayne and Pulaski. — Successful Encounters. — Captain Barry and his Row-Boats. — A Prize. — Sir Henry Clinton in Danger. — The Play not worth the Candle. — Fortification of West Point. — Kosciusko. — The British Forayers. — The Queen's Rangers. — Hay and Corn. — Sir Henry Clinton in Command at Philadelphia. — He proposes to retire. — Lafayette set to watch the British. — He is caught in a Critical Position. — A Skilful Manoeuvre and Fortunate Escape. — The Enemy return to Philadelphia. — A Successful Raid by the British over the Delaware. 1778. Few occurrences, of a strictly military character, took place while the two armies were in winter-quarters. There were, however, occasional skirmish es between parties sent out to forage. Captain Henry Lee, as usual, did good service with his lighthorse, and cheered the heart of Washington (who was so much attached to him) by his frequent feats of gallantry. While stationed with his troop of cavalry as an advanced guard at Derby, Lee was attacked by a party of the enemy's dragoons, nearly two hun dred in number, who endeavored to sur prise him. About daybreak they made their appearance. Lee was on the alert, and manned the doors and windows of the large stone-house where he was quar tered. The British dragoons, trusting to their vast superiority in numbers, attempt ed to force their way into the building. The contest became very warm, but the spirit of Lee's men baffled the enemy, and they were driven off from the house. They made an attempt to carry off the horses, but they were also forced from the stables, without being able to take a single animal. The British had one com missioned officer, a sergeant, and three soldiers wounded, and three privates ta ken prisoners. The Americans lost four privates, who belonged to the patrol- guard, and who, being stationed outside of the building, were overpowered while struggling manfully against the whole troop of dragoons. A sergeant was also taken prisoner, and a lieutenant and two soldiers wounded. A small force had been stationed by Washington during the winter at Tren ton, to keep in check the foraging-parties of the enemy. While Wayne and Count Pulaski were in command of their respect ive troops in this quarter, three thousand revolutionary.] BARRY'S EXPLOIT.— PLAN TO CAPTURE CLINTON. 107 British crossed the Delaware and attempt ed to surround them. The Americans, however, succeeded in escaping, and har assed the enemy severely on their return across the ferry. Pulaski behaved with great daring on the occasion, and during a smart skirmish had his horse wounded. After the British returned to their camp in the city, General Wayne crossed the Delaware, laid waste the forage in Phila delphia and Bucks counties, and retired over the river, driving before him the horses and cattle. On the water, too, Captain Barry, of the navy, had by his gallantry won a small triumph. Having manned four boats at Burlington, in New Jersey, he rowed down the Delaware with muffled oars, and took two British transports and an armed schooner by surprise. They were from Rhode Island, and bound to Philadelphia. The transports were laden with forage, and the schooner was well mounted with four-pound cannon and howitzers. The exploit was gallantly ex ecuted, as the river was in full possession of the enemy's ships. Barry, in fact, had no sooner seized his prizes, than he was obliged to burn one, to prevent its being retaken ; and " I fear the other," he wrote to Washington, " will share the same fate after discharging her; but I am deter mined to hold the schooner at all events." There was another affair which would probably have been successful, had it not been concluded that " the play was not worth the candle." While Sir Henry Clin ton was in command in New York, he occupied the house of Captain Kennedy, of the British navy, near the " Battery." General Washington had learned the ex act position of all the approaches to the dwelling, and even of the bedchamber of Sir Henry ; and it was proposed to carry him off Eight or ten light whale-boats, manned by a hundred and fifty Marble- head seamen (dressed in red, that they might pass for British soldiers), were to move down the Hudson with muffled oars from the Highlands to New York, where the men were to land and seize the Brit ish general. Everything was in readiness for carrying out the enterprise, which gave every promise of success, when Colo nel Hamilton took occasion to ask Wash ington, " Have you examined the conse quences of it?" — "In what respect?" re plied the general. " Why, it has occurred to me," rejoined Hamilton, " that we shall rather lose than gain by removing Sir Henry Clinton from the command of the British army, because we perfectly un derstand his character; and, by taking him off, we only make way for some oth er, perhaps an abler officer, whose char acter and disposition we may have to learn." The good sense of this remark was immediately acknowledged by Wash ington, and the scheme abandoned. The importance of holding the High lands of the Hudson was never disregard ed; and, after the fall of Forts Clinton and Montgomery, it was determined to select some other position, and strongly fortify it. General Putnam's attention was directed to this important matter, and he, together with the Clintons of New York, carefully reconnoitred the banks of the river, with the view of selecting a proper site for a fort. West Point was 10S BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. Mar. 20. deemed most eligible by them, as well as by a committee of the legislature of New York ; although Radiere, the French en gineer, did not approve of the site. There was some delay in constructing the works in consequence of the absence of General Putnam from his command on the Hud son. Brigadier-General Parsons, of Mas sachusetts, who succeeded him tempora rily, not feeling authorized to act, noth ing was done until the arrival of General M'Dougall, who assumed the eommand. As Radiere had objected to the site of West Point, which it was now determined to fortify, Kosciusko was chosen in his place ; and the works were begun, and pushed on with great vigor. The chief redoubt, constructed of logs and embankments of earth, was finished before the month of May. It was large, and well placed upon a cliff rising nearly two hundred feet above the water. Fort Clinton was the name given to it, in hon or of the governor of New York. There were other redoubts planned and finally erected upon the eminences in the neigh borhood, while connected with the works were barracks and quarters for nearly six hundred men. There was also a heavy chain stretched across the river, to pre vent the passage of vessels. Although Sir William Howe was inac tive with the main body of the British army at Philadelphia, some of his fora ging-parties showed great enterprise and alacrity. Colonel Mawhood and Major Simcoe, with the corps of America loyal ists called the " Queen's Rangers," made themselves memorable by their success ful activity at Salem and at Quintian and Hancock's bridges. " They generally suc ceeded in their petty objects," says one of their own historians. " The fighting was chiefly for hay and corn, clothes and blankets." As it was rumored that Sir Henry Clin ton (who had taken command of the Brit ish army on the resignation of Sir Wil liam Howe) was about to evacuate Phila delphia, the young marquis Lafayette was detached with twenty-four hundred of the choicest of the American troops and five fieldpieces, " to move," as Washington said, " between the Delaware and the Schuyl kill, for restraining the enemy's parties and procuring intelligence, and to act as circumstances may require." Lafayette accordingly marched from headquarters, and took post at Barren hill, on the east side of the Schuylkill river, about half way be tween Philadelphia and Valley Forge. Here his troops were encamped on com manding ground, with the artillery in front, the Schuylkill and rocky precipices on the right flank, and wooden and some strongly-built stone houses on the left. In advance of the left wing was posted Captain M'Lane with his company, and about fifty Indians. On the roads lead ing to Philadelphia, videttes and pickets were stationed ; and six hundred Penn sylvania militia were ordered to watch those which led to Whitemarsh. At a short distance from the left of the en campment was a church, where two roads joined, both of which led to Valley Forge, one by Matson's ford and the other by Swedes' ford, leading across the Schuyl kill. REVOLUTIONARY.] SKILFUL RETREAT OF LAFAYETTE. 109 May 20. Early on the second morning after encamping, while Lafay ette was conversing with a young girl, who was about setting out for Philadel phia, to collect information, under the pre text of visiting her relatives, intelligence was brought to him that some cavalry, dressed in red, had been seen at White- marsh. The marquis was expecting some American dragoons; and at first he in ferred that, as they were to come in that direction, those reported to have been seen were his own men. To make sure, however, he sent out an officer to recon noitre, who soon returned with the alarm ing intelligence that one column of the enemy was in full march from White- marsh to Swedes' ford, and that their front had already gained the road which led from Barren hill to Valley Forge; while another column was approaching by the Philadelphia road. The Pennsyl vania militia, whose duty it was to watch at Whitemarsh, had shifted their position without orders, and thus exposed Lafay ette to a surprise. The young marquis now found himself in a critical position ; but, without losing for a moment his presence of mind, he calmly yet rapidly set about extricating himself. He first changed the front of his troops, and, having so disposed them as to bring them under the cover of the woods and stone-houses, in case of a sud den attack from the approaching enemy, he then strove to seek out a way of re treat. The direct road to Valley Forge, by Swedes' ford, was in possession of a large force of the British. The only route left was the somewhat circuitous one by 79 Matson's ford. This was his only chance of escape, and this he availed himself of. He first sent off the advanced guard, un der the command of General Poor, and followed himself with the rear. To conceal his intention, however, from the enemy, who, as the road to Matson's ford was hidden by an intervening hill covered with trees, could not see the re treating Americans, Lafayette now and then despatched small parties through the woods to make a demonstration, as if they were heads of columns marching to an attack. The enemy were completely de ceived. General Grant, who commanded the detachment of British advancing in that direction, halted and prepared for action. This gave the young marquis an opportunity of accomplishing his purpose ; and he succeeded in throwing his main body across the Schuylkill at Matson's ford, without the least interruption, and posting it on some stony ground on the opposite bank. The artillery naturally lagged behind, and, before it could pass the river, some skirmishing occurred with the enemy, who came up, undeceived, at the last moment. The Americans lost nine killed and taken prisoners, and the British two or three in all. General Grant, finding himself outma noeuvred, pushed on toward Swedes' ford, where he joined the other British detach ment, which Sir Henry Clinton himself commanded. They reached the river, and took a survey of the marquis and his troops on the other side; but, finding them too securely posted to be dislodged, they turned and marched back to Phila delphia. 110 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. When Washington heard the firing, he was in great anxiety for the safety of the marquis. He and his officers ascended some rising ground beyond the camp at Valley Forge, and with their field-glasses watched the movements of the troops with the deepest solicitude, which was not relieved until Lafayette arrived in camp, bringing the report and proof of his clev erly-managed escape from the enemy. The British were more successful in a raid which they made upon the water. A party ascended the Delaware in flat bottomed boats, and set fire to the small American vessels which had sought ref uge in the shallow part of the river above, and destroyed the storehouses at Borden- town, on the New-Jersey side. There was little else accomplished, wor thy of record, until the beginning of sum mer. There were, however, other events occurring in the meantime, which were of more importance in their effect upon the cause of American independence than any of the inglorious feats of arms that we have had occasion to narrate in this chapter. To these matters let us now turn our attention. CHAPTER LXIX. Good News at Valley Forge. — Treaty between France and the United States. — Celebration. — Brilliant Appearance of the American Army. — Public Dinner. — Huzzas! — Simeon Deane. — His Arrival at Yorktown. — French Diplomacy. — Lord North's " Conciliatory Bills." — British Commissioners. — Free Circulation of the Bills. — Counter-Statements. — Warm Reception of the Bills in Rhode Island. — Arrival of the Commissioners. — The " Dandy Carlisle." — His Asso ciates. — Secretary Ferguson. — Departure of Sir William Howe. — Evacuation of Philadelphia. — Discouragement of the Inhabitants. — The Commissioners refused a Passport. — British Address to Congress. — No Negotiation without Independence. — Intrigue. — Attempt at Corruption. — Memorable Reply of Reed. — Justification of Johnstone. — Appeal to the People. — Lafayette challenges Lord Carlisle. — A Sensible Answer. 1778. Wednesday, May 7th, was a day of such exulting joy in the camp at Valley Forge as the most sanguine, du ring that winter of privation and suffer ing which had just passed, never ventured to hope for. " Our independence is un doubtedly secured — our country must be free !" was now the feeling which glad dened the hearts of even the most de sponding patriots, on learning that a trea ty had been signed between France and the United States. It was proper that such an occasion should be marked by every observance and ceremonial which could fix it in the memories of all. Ac cordingly, Washington determined to cel ebrate the auspicious day. With that reverence for religion which was a strong characteristic of the com mander-in-chief in his public as well as private conduct, the first part of the day set apart for the celebration of the occa sion was devoted to a grateful acknowl edgment of the Divine goodness, " it hav ing pleased the Almighty Ruler of the universe to defend the cause of the Uni- revolutionary.] REJOICINGS AT THE TREATY WITH FRANCE. Ill ted American states, and finally," in the words of Washington's order for the day, " to raise us up a powerful friend among the princes of the earth, to establish our liberty and independence upon a lasting foundation." The brigades were all as- sembled at nine o'clock in the morning; and the intelligence of the treaty having been communicated to them by the chaplains, prayer, thanks giving, and a " discourse suitable to the occasion," followed. At half-past ten o'clock, a cannon was fired, as a signal for the men to be under arms. The dress and accoutrements hav ing been inspected, the battalions formed, and, the order to load and ground arms given, a second cannon was fired as a sig nal to march. The whole army then pa raded. A discharge of thirteen cannon now took place, followed by a feu-de-joie of musketry running along each line. A signal having been given, the entire ar my burst forth, shouting, "Long live the king of France !" A second discharge of thirteen cannon, and a feu-de-joie of mus ketry, followed. Then another shout — "Long live the friendly European powers!" Again, a third discharge of artillery and musketry, closing with a loud huzza for " The American States !" The army made a most brilliant appear ance on parade, and entered with great spirit into the celebration. In the after noon, Washington dined in public, with all the officers of the army, and attended by a band of music. " I never was pres ent," wrote one of the American officers, "where there was such unfeigned and perfect joy as was discovered in every April 13. countenance. The entertainment was concluded with a number of patriotic toasts, attended with huzzas. When the general took his leave, there was a uni versal clap, with loud huzzas, which con tinued till he had proceeded a quarter of a mile, during which time there were a thousand hats tossed in the air. His ex cellency turned round with his retinue, and huzzaed several times." The treaties of commerce and alliance between France and the United States were signed as early as the 6th of Feb ruary. They were brought to the Uni ted States by Simeon Deane, the brother of Silas Deane, one of the American com missioners in Paris. He arrived at Fal mouth (now Portland),in Maine, on board the French frigate Sen sible, of thirty-six guns, which Louis XVI. had expressly ordered to convey him. Deane did not present himself to Con gress, at Yorktown, until the 2d of May ; and five days more passed before the im portant intelligence which he bore was received at the camp at Valley Forge. The French government strove to con ceal from England the fact of the signing of the treaty with the United States un til it had made some progress in carrying out its objects. The British cabinet, how ever, though not directly informed, had received such intelligence as to induce its members to believe it, and act accord ingly. L ord North, the prime minister, in order to counteract the French alliance, immediately introduced his " conciliatory bills," which were rapidly passed through Parliament. These conceded more than was ever asked by America as a colony, 112 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. and would have been thought generous in 1774. In 1778, all concessions offered by Great Britain to the United States were considered as gratuitous insults to an independent nation, and were thrown back with indignant contempt. British ministers, however, were still hopeful ; and, having secured the passage of the conciliatory bills, they sent copies of them to be industriously circulated in America, and appointed three commissioners to car ry out their purpose. There was some anxiety felt even in the United States about the possible ef fect of these measures of the English gov ernment. Lafayette declared he feared the arrival of the commissioners more than that of ten thousand men. Wash ington himself was fearful that Congress might not be equal to the emergency. " This more than ever," said he, " is the time for Congress to be filled with the first characters from every state, instead of having a thin assembly, and many states totally unrepresented, as is the case at present." The British agents spared no exertions in distributing copies of the conciliatory bills ; and Tryon, the tory governor of New York, was, as usual, among the most prominent of them. He sent Washing ton a supply, impertinently asking him to circulate them among his officers and men. " They were suffered," wrote the American general, in answer, " to have a free currency among the officers and men under my command, in whose fidelity to the United States I have the most perfect confidence." He also returned Tryon a Roland for his Oliver, in the shape of sev eral printed copies of a resolution of Con gress, offering pardon to all who had taken up arms against the United States, with the request that he would be instrumental in communicating its contents, as far as it might be in his power, to the persons who were intended to be the objects of its op erations. " The benevolent purpose it is intended to answer," added Washington, sarcastically, " will, I persuade myself, suf ficiently recommend it to your candor." The popular feeling in reference to the " conciliatory bills" was in character with that so emphatically expressed by the peo ple in Rhode Island, who seized and burnt them under the gallows. Congress, as well as the nation, was proof against the British bills. That body unanimously re solved "that these United States can not with propriety hold any conference or treaty with any commissioners on the part of Great Britain, unless they shall, as a preliminary thereto, either withdraw their fleets and armies, or else in positive and express terms acknowledge the inde pendence of the said states." This did not promise very favorably for the com ing commissioners. In accordance with the provisions of the "conciliatory bills," three commission ers were duly appointed, who arrived at Philadelphia in the early part of the summer. They were all no table men, though perhaps not the best adapted for such an embassy. The earl of Carlisle was well known as an aristo cratic dandy — or maccaroni, as he would have been called in those days. No one had fluttered his ruffles more gayly on the mall in St. James's park. He was fresh June 6. revolutionary.] THE BRITISH COMMISSIONERS IN PHILADEPHIA. 113 from exchanging scandal with Walpole at "Arthur's," and from playing hazard at " Brooke's," where his companions may have been statesmen, but he knew them only in their pleasures, and not in their business. His intimate friend was George Selwyn, the man of fashion, of whom he was a correspondent; and not Charles James Fox, the statesman and orator, who condemned his appointment — declaring that Governor Johnstone was the only member of the commission "who could have the ear of the people in America."* Johnstone, who had been governor of Florida, was prominent in Parliament as an advocate for the American cause, and was believed to be a firm friend of the colonies. He, however, like the earl of Chatham and others, who boldly stood forward, at the beginning of the struggle, for political concessions to the Americans as colonists, was strenuously opposed to their acknowledgment as an independent nation. The third commissioner was Wil liam Eden, afterward Lord Auckland, the brother of the colonial governor of Ma ryland. The secretary of the commission was Doctor Adam Ferguson, who was at that time about fifty-five years of age, and, by his "Essay on the History of Civil Socie ty" had obtained a high rank, among the Humes and Smiths of his native Scotland, as a philosophical writer. He subsequent ly became still more famous by his pro found and learned "History of the Progress * " Lord Carlisle was a young man of pleasure and fash ion ; fond of dress and gaming, by which he had greatly hurt his fortune ; was totally unacquainted with business ; and, though not void of ambition, had but moderate parts and Ibss application." — Hokace Walpole. and the Termination of the Roman Republic." Ferguson had a most gallant spirit in a martial frame of body, and was as well fitted to fight battles as to describe them* When the commissioners reached Phil adelphia, the easy, indulgent Sir William Howe had been gone a fortnight. His departure was deeply regretted, for he was greatly beloved by both his officers and men ; having been, as is sarcastically observed by an English writer, " on all occasions extremely careful of their lives" and attentive to their comforts. The parting was tender and affecting. The bravest of the band are said to have shed tears when the general stepped into his barge. Admiral Lord Howe would have accom panied his brother home to England, but he had been urged to stay by the British ministers, who anticipated that a French war, which was imminent, would soon fur nish an occasion for the active services of him and his fleet. Although their names were included in the commission, the Howes resolved not to act under the leadership of Lord Carlisle, from some feeling of pique or jealousy toward him, or from discontent with the conduct of the ministers. The commissioners were received by the inhabitants of Philadelphia with ev ery manifestation of ioy ; and +L 1JL v. ¦ Juue 6« they would have been sanguine of the success of their embassy, had they not found, much to their surprise and vex ation, that orders had been sent out to Sir Henry Clinton, unknown to them, to evacuate the city. Everything was in great confusion as the British army was * Pictorial History of England. 114 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. about leaving; and thousands of Philadel phia tories were crowding on board the transportships, as they did not care to trust their loyalty to the tender mercies of the patriots. The inhabitants, loath to leave their homes, clung to the com missioners with earnest appeals for pro tection. " Why were you so long in com ing ? Do not abandon us !" they cried, and entreated that the army should be retained and sent against Washington. They were also liberal of promises, and declared that twenty thousand men were ready to arm as soon as they were sup plied with the means and the British gen eral should take the field. Johnstone was inclined to believe them, and said after ward in Parliament, " I am persuaded, if we had been at liberty to have acted in the field, our most sanguine expectations would have been fulfilled." But General Howe could have told them that the American loyalists were more liberal in promise than in execution. The commis sioners, however, had no power to alter the destination of the army, as Sir Henry Clinton's orders to evacuate Philadelphia were peremptory. The first act of the commissioners was to charge their secretary with despatches for Congress ; and Sir Henry Clinton ad dressed a letter to Washington, asking for Ferguson a passport to Yorktown, where that body was in session. English writers have declared that this request was harshly refused. Washington's let ter on the occasion to Sir Henry Clinton disproves the charge. Nothing can be more courteous than the terms in which it is couched : — " Headquarters, June 9, 1778. " Sffi : At nine o'clock this evening I had the honor to receive your excellen cy's letter of this date. I do not conceive myself at liberty to grant the passport you request for Doctor Ferguson, without being previously instructed by Congress on the subject. I shall despatch a copy of your letter to them, and will take the earliest opportunity of communicating their determination. " I have the honor to be, sir, &c, " George Washington." Without waiting for the decision of Congress upon the application of Sir Hen ry Clinton for a passport for Ferguson, the commissioners forwarded their de spatches. Among these was an "address" to Congress, which the president was de sired to read immediately. He began at once, and continued reading till he came to a passage containing strong expres sions of disrespect to the king of France, when he was interrupted ; and the house, directing him to seal up the papers, ad journed. At a subsequent session, the subject was resumed ; when Congress or dered a reply to be sent to the commis sioners, in which their previous resolution was reiterated, not to enter into negotia tions with Great Britain for peace with out an explicit acknowledgment of the independence of the United States, or a withdrawal of British fleets and armies. The commissioners, now giving up all hope of formal negotiation, made a vain effort to effect by intrigue and bribery what they had failed to obtain by honest means. Governor Johnstone wrote a let ter to Robert Morris, the financier, in revolutionary.] BRITISH ATTEMPTS AT BRIBERY. 115 which he said : " I believe the men who have conducted the affairs of America in capable of being influenced by improper motives. But in all such transactions there is a risk, and I think that whoever ventures should be secured at the same time ; that honor and emolument should naturally follow the fortunes of those who have steered the vessel in the storm and brought her safely into port. I think Washington and the president [of Con gress] have a right to every favor that grateful nations can bestow, if they could once more unite our interests, and spare the miseries and devastations of war. I wish above all things to see you, and hope you will so contrive it." Morris was an acquaintance which Johnstone had formed while living in America as governor of West Florida. Henry Laurens, of South Carolina, who was now president of Congress, was an other old friend, to whom a similar epis tle was addressed. A correspondence also took place with General Joseph Reed, but a still bolder attempt was made upon his integrity, as he stated in Congress, of which he was a member. A " married lady of character, having connections with the British army," intimated to Reed that ten thousand pounds in money, and any office in the colonies which the king could bestow, awaited his exertions toward the reconciliation of the colonies with the mother-country. Reed's memorable an swer was : " I am not worth purchasing ; but, such as I am, the king of Great Brit ain is not rich enough to do it." It is but just to Johnstone to state that Adam Ferguson, who was the soul of honor and truth, declared that Johnstone denied (and confirmed the assertion by proofs and documents) that the bribe proffered to Reed was authorized by him. He could not, however, deny the letters to Laurens and Morris, although his as sociates in the commission (Lord Carlisle and Eden) disclaimed all responsibility for or even knowledge of them, until they appeared in the newspapers. Congress had declared these letters of Johnstone to be atrocious attempts upon its integrity, and resolved that no further correspond ence should be held with the commission er who had been guilty of them. Finding all their efforts to negotiate with the members of Congress in their private or public capacity fruitless, the commissioners appealed to the people, and artfully strove to bring the prejudice against the French, which the Americans shared in common with their English rel atives, to bear in opposition to the alli ance with France. Lafayette's Gallic sen sibility was greatly wounded by the at tacks upon his native land, and in his youthful ardor he challenged Lord Car lisle ; but his lordship coolly answered that he did not hold himself responsible to any but his king and country for his public conduct, and refused to accept the challenge* * "Lord Carlisle, before he left that quarter of the world, had received a challenge from the marquis de Lafayette, a. young Frenchman of quality, married into the powerful family of Noailles, and who, from enthusiasm for liberty, had resorted to America seemingly without the approbation of his court, though certainly with its connivance, as at his return he received only a short exile ten miles from Paris, and had been very active in the service of the Congress. This young adventurer had taken offence at expressions reproachful to his country in the proclamation of the com missioners, and very absurdly had addressed himself to Lord 116 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. This last effort of the British commis sioners, however, proved no less unsuc cessful than their previous attempts ; and being thus totally balked, they finally left the country — with a feeling of con tempt on the part of the American peo ple toward them, and an ill-concealed dis gust with themselves for having engaged in an embassy that proved to be a fool's errand. CHAPTER LXX. Evacuation of Philadelphia. — Secrecy of Sir Henry Clinton. — Washington in the Dark. — A Divided Council. — Opinion of Washington. — The Retreat of the British to be harassed. — Washington crosses the Delaware. — General Lee in Op position. — He gives up his Command to Lafayette, and retreats. — Sir Henry Clinton changes his Line of March.— Lee ordered to the Advance. — His March. — Washington's Eagerness. — Lee ordered to attack. — Contradictory Orders. — Bewilderment. — Plans. — Lee in High Spirits. — General Wayne's Charge. — Altercation between Lee and Lafayette. — Washington summoned. — Retreat of Lee. — Meeting with Washington. — Fierce Words. — Nothing further to do. — The Struggle at Monmouth. — Hot Engagement. — Check of the British. — Formation of the American Line. — The Enemy beaten back.— Fall of General Monckton. — The Day over. — Washington sleeps on the Field. 1778. June 18. Sir Henry Clinton, in pursuance of his orders from the British min istry, was about evacuating Philadelphia ; but so adroitly had he made his prepara tions, that even on the very day of his march, his destination and route were unknown in the American camp. " As yet," wrote Washington, on the morning of that day, " I am not fully ascertained [informed] of the enemy's des tination ; nor is there wanting a variety of opinions as to the route they will pur sue, whether it will be by land or sea, ad mitting it to be New York." On the previous day a council of war was held, in which the question as to the policy of attacking the British army on Carlisle for satisfaction. The latter, in a very sensible let ter, told him that he did not at all think it became him to answer for his conduct as a public minister to a private man, and that he thought the national quarrel would be best decided by Admiral Byron and Comte D'Estaing." — Horace Walpole. its march from Philadelphia (should New Jersey be the route) was submitted. A great variety of opinion was entertained, but most of the officers considered it too hazardous to make a general attack ; for, although the Americans had, including the militia, nearly fourteen thousand men, and the British numbered less than ten thousand, the latter were effective troops. General Lee was opposed to doing any thing beyond skirmishing with the out guards, and harassing the enemy as cir cumstances would permit. His influence in the council was great, and he carried with him many of the other officers. The decision of the majority was therefore in accordance with Lee's views. After the council broke up, however, Generals Greene, Lafayette, and Wayne, wrote to Washington, explaining more fully their opinions, which differed from those of the majority.- They did not de- revolutionary.] LEE AND LAFAYETTE.— THE BRITISH MOVING. 117 clare in favor of pushing the enemy at all events to a general action, but they strongly urged an attack upon their rear with a large detachment, and such a dis position of the main body of the army as to be ready for an engagement should cir cumstances seem favorable. Washington's own opinion being in accordance with this plan, he determined (if the British gave him an opportunity) to adopt it. He, how ever, as soon as he was well assured of Sir Henry Clinton's movement across the Delaware, sent out General Maxwell with his brigade to co-operate with the New- Jersey militia in obstructing the march of the British. In accordance also with the decision of the council, Washington ordered a detachment of fifteen hundred men, under General Scott, to act on the enemy's left flank and rear, preliminary to carrying out the more general plan of attack which he anticipated, in further ance of his own views, and those of Gen erals Greene, Wayne, and Lafayette. Washington now broke up his camp at Valley Forge, and, crossing the Delaware at Coryell's ferry, marched with his main body to Cranberry. Having here learned that the British were taking the route toward Monmouth courthouse, he deter mined to carry out his plan, and ordered a thousand of his choicest troops under Brigadier-General Wayne to advance im mediately, and, having formed a junction with Maxwell's brigade, the force under Scott, and the other detachments which had already been sent forward, to attack the enemy's rear and flanks. As General Lee was second in rank, the whole advanced corps fell under his com- 80 mand. Lafayette, however, always eager for an opportunity to distinguish himself, was glad to take advantage of Lee's sup posed reluctance to execute a plan which he had so strenuously opposed. Accord ingly, the young marquis, suggesting to Washington the probability of Lee's em barrassment, offered himself as a substi tute. The commander-in-chief answered that such an arrangement would be agree able to him, but that it was necessary to obtain General Lee's consent. Lafay ette's desire met with no opposition from Lee, who immediately resigned the com mand to him, with an emphatic denunci ation of the plans of Washington, which he was sure, he declared, would fail, and that he was therefore glad to be rid of any responsibility in their execution. General Lee, on reflection, however, repented of the readiness with which he had granted the request of Lafayette, and strove to get back his«ommand. He wrote to Washington, and, acknowledg ing that he had been rash, asked to have his command restored to him. But the commander-in-chief declared that he could not reinstate him without the consent of Lafayette. Lee appealed to the young marquis, who said that, as the command had been yielded to him freely, he wras very reluctant to give it up. Lee, how ever, becoming urgent, Lafayette finally consented, provided (as he was now on his march) he did not come up with the enemy during that day. In the meantime, Sir Henry Clinton, on marching from Allentown, had changed the disposition of his army, by placing the baggage in advance, under the guard 118 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. of Knyphausen and his Hessians, and his best troops, consisting of the British gren adiers, lightinfantry, and chasseurs of the line, under the command of Earl Cornwal lis, in the rear. Washington, on discov ering this, found it necessary to strength en his advanced corps, and immediately detached Major- General Lee, with two brigades, to form a junction with Lafay ette at Englishtown. This at once set tled all difficulty between these fjvo offi cers; as Lee, being the higher in rank, on being ordered to reinforce the ad vanced troops, necessarily assumed the general command. Washington's object, in sending Lee with the reinforcement, was, to relieve him of his " uneasiness," which was " rather increasing than aba ting At the same time that I felt for General Lee's distress of mind," observed Washington, writing to L afay ette, " I have had an eye to your wishes, and the deli cacy of your s^uation ; and have there fore obtained a promise from him that, when he gives you notice of his approach and command, he will request you to prosecute any plan you may have already concerted for the purpose of attacking or otherwise annoying the enemy." Washington, in the meantime, having lightened his march by leaving his baggage behind, moved on with the rest of the troops, and encamped within three miles of Englishtown, where the advanced corps, now consisting of five thousand men, under the command of General Lee, was posted. Sir Henry Clinton, on reaching Allen- town, found Washington almost in front ; and, not wishing to hazard a battle, he June 25. June 27. changed his original purpose of marching his troops to the Raritan, and embarking them at Brunswick or South Amboy for New York. He now turned to the right, and took the road toward Monmouth, with the intention of proceeding in all haste to Sandy Hook. The British, being hindered by their immense baggage and camp-appurtenan ces, fagged by their fatiguing marches in the hot summer weather, and harassed by the skirmishing of the country militia, were slow in their movements. They encamped in a strong po sition, with their right extending about a mile and a half beyond Monmouth court house, and their left along the road from Allentown to the village of Monmouth. Their right flank lay on the skirt of a small wood, while their left was secured by a very thick one. There was a morass in their rear, and again another, together with a wood, in their front. The position of the enemy was deemed too strong for an attack, and Washington awaited the moment when they should begin to march, to commence operations. He accordingly ordered General Lee to make his disposition for the assault on the British rear as soon as they should get in motion from their present ground. Lee was directed to keep his troops con stantly lying upon their arms, in order to be in readiness at the shortest notice ; for Sir Henry Clinton had only ten or twelve miles to march in advance, to reach the heights of Middletown, where it would be impossible to attempt anything against him with a prospect of success. The at tack, to be made at all, must be made in revolutionary.] WASHINGTON'S ANXIETY.— LEE'S BEWILDERMENT. 119 the interval of time between his march from his present strong ground to the still stronger one beyond. The greatest alertness was therefore necessary, to seize upon the critical moment. Washington not only enjoined this upon Lee, but took care to secure it on the part of the troops under his immediate command, which he kept in reserve at Cranberry, several miles distant, and was prepared to bring up to sustain the advanced corps so soon as it should have begun its attack on the ene my's rear. Washington was so anxious lest the British should escape him by decamping unobserved before the break of day, that at midnight he sent word to General Lee to order out a corps of observation. The New- Jersey militia, under General Dick inson were accordingly sent forward, to lie as close as possible to the enemy, in order to watch their movements. At five o'clock the next morning, an ex press from Dickinson came into Washington's camp, with the intelligence that Sir Henry Clinton's front had begun to move. The day had no sooner broken, than General Knyphausen marched with his long train of baggage and bathorses, extending ten or twelve miles along the narrow read. It was about eight o'clock when Sir Henry Clinton followed with the rear, composed of the main body of the army and the choicest troops, under the immediate command of Lord Cornwallis. As soon as he received intelligence of the enemy's march, Washington sent one of his aids to General Lee, with orders to move on and attack them, " unless there should be very powerful reasons to the June 28. contrary." The commander-in-chief him self, having ordered his men to throw off their packs and blankets, that they might march with the greater rapidity and com fort during that sweltering summer day, immediately advanced to the support of Lee, to whom he had sent due notice of his approach. General Lee, on receiving Washing ton's orders, despatched a body of light troops in advance to skirmish with the enemy, while he moved forward with the brigades of Wayne and Maxwell to sus tain it. In the course of his march, Lee received a variety of contradictory re ports. Now one aid-de-camp rode back with the intelligence that the main body of the British was marching to attack him ; and, again, another brought word that Sir Henry Clinton had moved off in precipitation, and left only a covering- party to protect his retreat! Lee was obliged to manoeuvre accordingly ; and, skirmishing as he went, he advanced and retired again and again. At one time, hoping to find the enemy in small force, he crossed the bridge over the morass on his route, in order to attack them ; at an other, fearing that their main body was approaching, he rapidly retired, lest he should be caught in the dangerous posi tion, with a morass in his rear, and only a narrow bridge to cross it. While thus bewildered, Lafayette came up with the main body of Lee's division, which, when united with the advanced troops, formed a force (exclusive of Morgan's corps and the New-Jersey militia, then out skirmish ing) of about four thousand men. Thus reinforced, Lee pushed forward until he 120 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. reached the plains of Monmouth, on the edge of which, and within the cover of a wood, he formed his line, that it might be concealed from the view of the Brit ish. General Lee, accompanied by Wayne, now rode out to reconnoitre ; and, from his own observations, and the intelligence received from his scouts, he concluded that the troops of the enemy which he saw were only a covering-party, and that there was a sufficient distance between them and their main body to allow of a chance to cut them off Lee formed his plans accordingly. He sent off Wayne, with seven hundred men and two field- pieces, to attack them in the rear, but not with such impetuosity as to drive them either to seek safety by a junction with their main body in advance, or to cause : reinforcements to be sent to their aid. Lee himself proposed to take them with a strong force in front, and strove accord ingly to carry out his purpose by leading his men along a short and cross route by which he expected to intercept the en emy. Full of confidence in his plan, the gen eral was riding at the head of his troops, and hurrying on their march, when he was accosted by an aid-de-camp of Wash ington, who rode up for intelligence. L ee was in high spirits, and his face beamed with an expression of confident success, while with a firm tone of voice he told the aid-de-camp to inform his excellency that the rear of the enemy was composed of only fifteen hundred or two thousand men, and that they did not seem to un derstand the roads ; that the route he was on cut off two miles of distance ; that he expected to fall in with them, and felt great certainty of cutting them off; and that General Wayne and Colonel Butler were amusing them with a few loose shot while he was marching to the attack. As Wayne approached and prepared to skirmish with the rear of the enemy, a party of British dragoons were seen pa rading as though they were about charg ing the American lighthorsemen in ad vance, when General Lee's aid-de-camp rode forward and suggested to the officer in command of the latter, to appear to await the attack, and then at the last moment to retire toward General Wayne and allow him to receive it. This ma noeuvre succeeded : the British dragoons made the charge, and, while in pursuit of , the retreating American horsemen, came within the fire of Wayne's troops, when they were suddenly compelled, to wheel round and gallop back. General Wayne's men now pushed on with fixed bayonets, and charged the en emy with such spirit, that Lee sent word, in order to check his impetuosity, that he (Wayne) was only to feign an attack, or otherwise he would spoil his game. Colo nel Oswald, in command of the artillery, observing the impression whic^ Wayne's charge had made upon the British, be lieved that they were about retreating, and hurried forward with his two field- pieces across the morass in front, and, planting them on some high ground on the other side, commenced a cannonade. Wayne was disappointed by the check which he received in the orders of Lee, but he obeyed them ; although, with his IS^Bill C p f L-~ p s : ; ^! i .0 t=.i 3 : revolutionary.] GENERAL LEE'S DISGRACEFUL RETREAT. 121 usual sanguineness of temper, he believed that his obedience had cost him an almost certain victory. He, however, waited in the hope that Lee, by a vigorous blow in front, would retrieve the loss. General Lee, however, was proceeding with caution ; and, as he approached the British, instead of coming forward at once with his whole force and striking a rapid blow, his troops made their appearance emerging from the woods in separate de tachments. The enemy were drawn up to receive him, and, as Lee was forming his line, their cavalry began to manoeuvre in the direction of the American right. Lafayette's ardent and youthful spirit was much chafed by General Lee's cautious movements, and, eager for action, he at this movement begged to be permitted to try to get to the rear of the enemy. "Sir," answered Lee, "you do not know British soldiers ; we can not stand against them ; we shall be certainly driven back at first, and we must be cautious." — "It may be so, general," responded the young marquis, " but British soldiers have been beaten, and may be beaten again ; at any rate, I am disposed to make the attempt." Lee so far yielded to the desire of the impulsive Frenchman as to allow him to wheel his column to the right, for the purpose of attacking the enemy's left flank. Lafayette seems to have been so much dissatisfied with Lee's conduct, that he took the occasion of the riding up of one of Washington's aids-de-camp to send back word to the commander-in-chief that his presence on the ground was absolutely necessary. Lee continued to act with the same deliberate circumspection, and seemed by no means impatient for action. While reconnoitring, the enemy were dis covered to be in so much greater num bers than he expected, that Lee acknowl edged that he had been mistaken in their strength. Sir Henry Clinton, moreover, was making preparations for a vigorous attack upon the Americans in his rear, with the view of forcing them to call to their aid Dickinson with his militia and Morgan with his rifle-corps, who were se verely harassing the British van, which was marching with the baggage. While Lee was cautiously manoeuvring, to pre pare to meet the enemy, a confusion took place, either in his orders or in the under standing of them by his subordinate offi cers : one whole brigade having retreat ed when it had been ordered merely to fall back, the rest of the troops followed in disorder, pursued by the British. General Washington, in the meantime, was pushing on to the support of Lee. When he reached the church at Free hold, where two roads joined, General Greene with the right wing took one, in order to prevent a flank-movement on the part of Sir Henry Clinton ; while Wash ington led the rest of the force along the other directly to the rear of General Lee, who was supposed to be at that time en gaged with the enemy. This disposition having been made, the march had hardly been resumed, when a countryman was met, with intelligence that the continen tal troops were in full retreat. Washing ton could not believe it, as he had re ceived from Lee such an encouraging ac count of his prospects, and there had been 122 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. June 28. no indication of an engagement, beyond the sound of a cannon or two. Soon, how ever, others came up with the same report ; and finally the re treating troops themselves followed. " The conviction that Lee was a trai tor," says Lossing, " and that this retreat was the first bitter fruit of his treason, now flashed upon the mind of Washing ton. Already the belief that he was un true, and a dangerous man in the army, had been forced upon the consideration of many officers ; but, until the previous evening, the generous heart of the com mander-in-chief would not harbor such a suspicion. Late at night, the Reverend David Griffiths, a Welshman, and chap lain of the third Virginia regiment, had repaired to headquarters, and warned the chief, in presence of Hamilton, Harrison, and Fitzgerald, not to employ General Lee in commanding the advance on the ensuing morning. Washington received the warning doubtingly ; when the rev erend gentleman, on retiring, observed, ' I am not permitted to say more at present, but your excellency will remember my warning voice to-morrow, in the battle !' Now that warning voice, Lee's opposition to attack ing Clinton at all, and his changefulness respecting the command of the advance, all combined to make Washington feel that Lee had ordered this retreat for the purpose of marring his plans, and disgra cing him by the loss of a battle, so as to fulfil the traitor's own predictions of its failure." Washington accosted each officer as he rode up, ordering him to halt his men, and asking him for an explanation of what seemed so incomprehensible. He could get no satisfactory answer, and therefore determined to seek out General Lee him self. Putting spurs to his horse, he gal loped rapidly along the road until he reached an ascent, from which he caught a glimpse of Lee, with the remainder of his troops, coming on in full retreat. The commander-in-chief was greatly troubled at what had occurred, and, holding Lee responsible, could not, on meeting him, contain his indignation. " What is the meaning of this, sir ?" he demanded of Lee, looking at him sternly, and speaking with angry emphasis. " I desire to know, sir, the meaning of this disorder and confusion !" repeated Wash ington, before the recreant general could sufficiently recover himself from the ef fect of being thus accosted, to reply. Lee now in turn gave issue to his own temper, and answered fiercely, while he hurriedly strove to justify his conduct, saying that he had not been disposed to face the whole British army with such a force as he had. "I have certain information," replied Washington, " that it was only a cover ing-party." " Covering-party or not," declared Lee, "it was stronger than mine, and I was not disposed to run the risk." " I am very sorry, then," rejoined Wash ington, "that you undertook the command, unless you meant to fight the enemy." " I did not think it prudent to bring on a general engagement," retorted Lee. "Whatever your opinion may have been, I expected my orders would have been obeyed," said Washington. During revolutionary.] BATTLE OF MONMOUTH. 123 this brief interview, the enraged chief is said, on the authority of Lafayette, to have called Lee "a damned poltroon;" and the marquis observed that this was the only instance in which he ever heard the general swear. The ardent Hamil ton, too, who also remembered the chap lain's warning, here dismounted, and, un sheathing his sword, addressed Washing ton : " Your excellency and this army are betrayed ; and the moment has arrived when every true friend of America and her cause must be ready to die in their defence !"* There was no time for further alterca tion, as the British were rapidly pressing forward in pursuit of the fugitives. Wash ington rode off hastily to the extreme rear of the retreating troops. Taking a rapid survey of the ground, and finding it favorable for forming, the chief ordered the battalions of Colonel Stewart and LieutenantColonel Ramsay to face about and march to the left, where, under the cover of the wood, they might be some what protected from the enemy's artille ry, and also be enabled to check their ad vance. General Lee, on being told by one of his aids that Washington had taken the command of his division, said, "Then I have nothing further to do ;" and, turning his horse, he rode back to where the com mander-in-chief was forming a front out of the rear of the retreating troops to op pose the enemy's approach. As he came up, Washington asked : — " Will you command on this ground or not ? If you will, I will return to the * Lossing. main body, and have them formed on the next height." "It is equal with me where I com mand," was Lee's reply. " I expect you will take proper meas ures for checking the enemy," said Wash ington, emphatically. " Your orders shall be obeyed," prompt ly answered Lee, "and I will not be the first to leave the field !" Washington now hurried back to the main body, which he formed on a height, with a morass in front, and between him and Lee's advanced division. He had hardly gone, when the British brought up their artillery, and began a severe can nonade on Lee's right, which was, howev er, well returned by the Americans. At the same time the enemy pushed forward their lighthorse, which, making an im petuous charge, followed by a large body of lightinfantry, drove the battalions of Stewart and Ramsay before them. The engagement now became hot be tween the British and Varnum's brigade united with Livingston's regiment, which had been stationed in front of the bridge across the morass, in order to cover the retreat of the artillery and the advanced troops. They, too, were obliged to give way before a charge of the enemy, but retired in good order. Lee, having post ed Colonel Ogden in a wood near the bridge, ordered him to defend it to the last extremity, and remained in person on the ground until the orderly retreat of his whole force was secured, when he himself crossed the bridge, and rode up to Washington. "Sir," said Lee, "here are my troops : how is it your pleasure 124 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. June 28. that I should dispose of them ?" As they were jaded by the day's work, the com mander-in-chief ordered them to to be marched to the rear, in the neighborhood of Englishtown, that they might be refreshed by repose. While the enemy were thus checked by Lee's division, Washington had an op portunity of forming his line, with care ful deliberation. L ord Stirling command ed the left wing, where he had posted some heavy artillery ; and Greene, when he discovered Lee's early retreat, had changed the direction of his march, and was now posted with his whole force on his lordship's right. The British continued to advance in front, but Earl Stirling soon checked them with his artillery, and by detachments of infantry pushed forward to oppose them. They then attempted to turn his flank, but were repulsed. A movement toward the American front proved equally un successful; for Greene had advanced a body of troops, and Knox with his artil lery, to take possession of some rising ground in advance, by which the design of the enemy was checked, and their en tire front enfiladed. General Wayne, as usual, among the most active with his brigade, having been posted in an orchard close to the foe, when Colonel Monckton, of the British grenadiers, determined to make an effort to drive him off. So, form ing his men in close ranks, he ordered them to charge with the bayonet. Wayne bade his men withhold their fire until the enemy should be close up. On they came, with their colonel at their head, waving his sword, and shouting to his men, when the Americans opened their fire, and the brave Monckton fell amid heaps of his slaughtered grenadiers. The British now fell back to the posi tion occupied by General Lee in the morning. Here their flanks were secured by thick woods and morasses, while their front could only be approached through a narrow pass. Washington was not dis posed, however, well covered as they ap peared to be, to let them escape without another attempt to get at them. He ac cordingly ordered General Poor, with his own and the Carolina brigade, to move toward their right, General Woodford to their left, and the artillery to be brought up so as to gall them in front. But be fore this disposition could be made, the day was well spent ; and the men were so fatigued by their marching and coun termarching in the sandy Jersey soil, and so prostrated by the excessive heat (the day being one of the most sultry of the whole season), that it was determined to postpone the attack till the next morning. The troops were ac cordingly ordered to lie upon their arms, in order to be in readiness for action at the earliest moment ; while the general- in-chief himself wrapped his cloak about him and lay down, with the young mar quis de Lafayette by his side, at the foot of a tree, talking over the events of the day, until they both sought, in a short night's sleep, refreshment for the expect ed struggle of the coming morning. Thus ended the battle of Monmouth, which was one of the most hotly-contest ed of the war, and in which great skill was exhibited on both sides. June 29. revolutionary.] RETREAT OF THE BRITISH.— LOSSES AT MONMOUTH. 125 CHAPTER LXXI. Tho Dawn of Morning. — The Enemy gone. — Pursuit impracticable. — Fresh Graves. — Losses on Both Sides. — Loss of the British from Heat and Desertion. — Their March through New Jersey. — Washington moves toward the North River. — A Painful March. — Horses dying in Troops. — A Refreshing Halt at Brunswick. — Court-Martial on General Lee, — His Letter to Washington. — He complains of " Cruel Injustice." — Washington's Answer. — Lee's Rejoinder. — Postponement of the Trial.— Lee's Skilful Defence.— He is found guilty.— The Verdict.— Confirmed by Congress.— Lee's Duel with Laurens. — Version of Lee. — His Retirement to Virginia. — His Morose and Secluded Life. — His Eccentricity. — His Death. — His Singular Will. — A Traitor? — Justification of Washington. 1778. June 29. The morning came, and the Amer ican troops were aroused to arms by the early beat of drum ; but the ene my had disappeared. Sir Henry Clinton, having employed the early part of the night in burying some of his dead, and collecting his wounded, marched off at twelve o'clock, and with such cautious silence, that the most advanced of the American outposts had not the least sus picion of the movement. Nothing was left of the whole army in the morning but four officers and for ty soldiers, who had been so severely wounded, that they could not be carried off The extreme heat of the weather, the continued fatigue of the men from their march through a low, sandy country, al most destitute of water, and the distance which the British had gained by their se cret march in the night, made a pursuit impracticable. Washington was particu larly apprehensive of the fatal effects of the excessive heat. Many of the men in both armies had fallen dead on the field, without a shot, while exposed to the hot glare of the noonday sun. 81 The enemy left two hundred and forty- five non-commissioned officers and pri vates dead on the field of Monmouth, and four officers, among whom was the gal lant Colonel Monckton, of the grenadiers. There were also several fresh graves ob served, where in their haste they had bu ried some of their dead ; and more than a hundred prisoners were taken. " Fifty- nine of their soldiers," says Lossing, " per ished by the heat. They were found un der trees and by rivulets, whither they had crept for shade and water, without a wound." A large number of wounded were carried off with them during the action, and until midnight, when, as Wash ington said, " they stole off as silent as the grave." The American loss was, seven officers and fifty-two rank and file killed, and sev enteen officers and a hundred and twen ty privates wounded. The only two im portant officers who suffered were Lieu tenantColonel Brumer, of Pennsylvania, and Major Dickinson, of Virginia. The British, in their march through New Jersey, suffered a loss, including the desertions, which was estimated in all at 126 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. about two thousand men. More than six hundred deserters went back to Philadel phia, and many joined the American ar my. One of the German regiments was considered so disaffected, that Sir Henry Clinton did not venture to trust it on land, and accordingly sent it to New York by sea from Philadelphia, while he took up his march through New Jersey. The British were now left almost uninterrupt ed to pursue their way to Sandy Hook, and thence to New York, where they en camped in the vicinity of the city. Washington, having left the New-Jer sey brigade, Morgan's corps, and some other light parties behind him, to hover about the enemy, in order to countenance desertions from their ranks, and as far as possible to prevent depredations, moved on the rest of his army through New-Jer sey toward the North river, with the in tention of forming a junction with Gen eral Gates, then in command at Fishkill. The march from Englishtown to Brunswick was " inconceivably distressing to the troops and horses." The route lay for twenty miles through a deep sand, during the extremest heat of the season, while there was but one shallow stream, throughout the whole distance, where a drop of water could be obtained. Some of the men died and many were dis abled in consequence, and the horses fell dead in troops. Upon the "airy, open grounds" in the neighborhood of Bruns wick, Washington, though eager to pur sue his march, now halted his army for a week, that his men might obtain the re pose and refreshment they so greatly re quired. June 30. July 4. At Brunswick the courtmar- tial first assembled which was appointed to try General Lee on the fol lowing charges : — "First. Disobedience of orders, in not attacking the enemy on the 28th of June, agreeably to repeated instructions. " Secondly. Misbehavior before the ene my on the same day, by making an unne cessary, disorderly, and shameful retreat. "Thirdly. Disrespect to the command er-in-chief, in two letters, dated the 1st of July and the 28th of June." The irascible Lee was so provoked by the angry reprimand of Washington for his retreat at Monmonth, that, unable to control his temper, he wrote a letter to the commander-in-chief, in which he in dulged in personal reflections such as no superior officer could, with a proper re gard to his own dignity, pass by without rebuke. "From the knowledge I have of your excellency's character," wrote Lee, "I must conclude that nothing but the misinformation of some very stupid or misrepresentation of some very wicked person could have occasioned your ma king use of so very singular expressions as you did on my coming up to the ground where you had taken post. They implied that I was guilty either of disobedience of orders, want of conduct, or want of courage. Your excellency will therefore infinitely oblige me by letting me know on which of these three articles you ground your charge, that I may prepare for my justification, which I have the happiness to be confident I can do to the army, to the Congress, to America, and to the world in general." revolutionary.] TRIAL AND CONVICTION OF GENERAL LEE. 127 Lee then, with his usual self-sufficiency, having not only justified his retreat, but claimed for it the merit of having saved the day, took occasion, after telling Wash ington that he thought him "endowed with many great and good qualities," to complain that he had been " guilty of an act of cruel injustice toward a man who certainly has some pretensions to the re gard of every servant of this country And I think, sir," added Lee, "I have a right to demand some reparation for the injury committed ; and, unless I can ob tain it, I must in justice to myself, when this campaign is closed, which I believe will close the war, retire from a service, at the head of which is placed a man ca pable of offering such injuries. But at the same time, in justice to you, I must repeat that I from my soul believe that it was not a motion of your own breast, but instigated by some of those dirty ear wigs, who will for ever insinuate them selves near persons in high office." Washington wrote firmly in answer, telling Lee that his letter was, as he con ceived, expressed in terms highly improp er, and that he was not conscious of hav ing made use of any very singular ex pressions at the time of meeting him du- ing his retreat. " What I recollect to have said," added Washington, "was dictated by duty and warranted by the occasion." He closed by promising him the oppor tunity which he had asked for justifying himself. Lee petulantly rejoined, saying : " You can not afford me greater pleasure than in giving me the opportunity of showing to America the sufficiency of her respec tive servants. I trust that temporary power of office, and the tinsel dignity at tending it, will not be able, by all the mists they can raise, to obfuscate the bright rays of truth." General Lee was now arrested and tried. The courtmartial was convened as early as the 4th of July, but its ses sions were interrupted by the movement of the army, and it did not come to a de cision until the 12th of August. Lord Stirling was president, and the rest of the court was composed of a major-general, four brigadiers, and eight colonels. Lee defended himself with great skill. He contended that, as his orders were discre tionary, he could not be justly charged with disobedience. In regard to the re treat, he declared that he did not wish or give any orders for a retrograde manoeu vre from the first point of action, adding : " Even when I was informed of our left being abandoned, the retreat, however necessary, was, I am ashamed to own it, done contrary to my orders and contrary to my intentions. He claimed that, in falling back and taking the ground that he intended when his division was reti ring, the enemy would probably have been drawn from a good position, and the advantage given to the Americans. The weak point in Lee's conduct was the fact of his not having sent word to Wash ington of the retreat of his troops — by which neglect the safety of the whole army was hazarded. This looked either like premeditated injury or uncontrolla ble confusion. General Lee was found guilty of all the charges, though in the second the ex- 128 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. Dec. 5. pression " shameful" was omitted, and the term " disorderly" mitigated by the inser tion of " in some instances." The sentence was, suspension from all command in the armies of the United States for the term of twelve months. The finding of the court was now re ferred to Congress for its action. Lee went to Philadelphia at the time, and was not a little wounded in spirit to find his old popularity so much on the wane, that, although he had still strong friends, the majority of the members were evidently against him. He strove to better his cause, by writing a clever defence, which he termed " General Lee's Vindication to the Public." The opinion of Congress was, however, unfavorable ; and in an exceedingly thin house, fifteen voted in the affirmative and seven in the negative, thus confirming the decision of the courtmartial. General Lee's temper was not improved by these adverse circumstances. He be came greatly embittered against Wash ington, and took every occasion to rail at him and his military conduct. The lat ter remained in stoical indifference ; but one of his aids, Colonel Laurens, was hot and young enough to take up the quar rel, and wrote to Lee, declaring that, in contempt of decency and truth, he had " publicly abused General Washington in the grossest terms," and that the relation in which he (Laurens) stood to him for bade him to pass such conduct unnoticed. He therefore demanded the satisfaction which he was entitled to ; and desired that, as soon as General Lee should think himself at liberty, he would appoint time and place for a hostile meeting, and name his weapons." Lee did not hesitate to accept the chal lenge, and, taking advantage of his privi lege, as the challenged party, of choosing his weapons, he selected pistols instead of the smallsword, in the use of which he was a great adept, but which he now de clined in consequence of being in a some what weak state of body, on account of a fall from his horse, and a recent fit of the gout. His courage was undoubted, and Lee bore himself in the encounter with cool intrepidity. His antagonist, however, proved the better shot, and wounded him slightly in the side. Lee was especially envenomed against the members of Congress who were prom inent in favor of confirming the decision of the courtmartial ; and William Henry Drayton, of South Carolina, drew upon himself the most concentrated bitterness of the wrathful general, who tells him in a letter, " I find that you are as malignant a scoundrel as you are universally allowed to be a ridiculous and disgusting coxcomb." Again, he says : " You tell me the Ameri cans are the most merciful people on the face of the earth. I think so too ; and the strongest instance of it is, that they did not long ago hang you up, and every advo cate for the stamp-act. And do not flatter yourself that the present virtuous airs of patriotism you may give yourself, and your hard-labored letters to the commis sioners and the king, will ever wash away the stain. If you think the terms I make use of harsh or unmerited, my friend Ma jor Edwards is commissioned to point out your remedy." revolutionary.] RETIREMENT AND DEATH OF GENERAL LEE. 129 Lee was not indulged in his wish for another duel, but was allowed to retire to his plantation in Berkeley county, in Virginia, and there in solitude nurse his discontent. But he nevertheless still ex hibited his malevolence toward Washing ton, by publishing his " Queries, Political and Military," in which there was a labored attempt to depreciate the military quali fications and conduct of the commander- in-chief. When the " Queries" were sent to the publishers of the Philadelphia pa pers, they refused to publish them ; but they were finally printed in the "Mary land Journal," of Baltimore. Their publi cation caused a storm of indignation, and the deeply-incensed people insisted upon the name of the author of the gross li bels. Lee now became an object of al most universal scorn* The spirit of the fallen general contin ued to grow more and more irritable and morose. Having heard a rumor that he was to be deprived of his commission at the close of the term for which he was suspended, Lee, without waiting to ascer tain the truth or falsity of the report, wrote an insulting letter to the president of Congress, saying : " Sir, I understand that it is in contemplation of Congress, on the principle of economy, to strike me out of their service. Congress must know very little of me, if they suppose that I would accept of their money, since the con firmation of the wicked and infamous sentence * Among the " Queries," twenty-five in number, are the following, showing the malignant spirit which animated the whole: "Whether it is salutary or dangerous, consistent with or abhorrent from the spirit and principles of liberty and republicanism, to inculcate and encourage in the people an idea that their welfare, safety, and glory, depend on one man ? Whether they really do depend on one man V which was passed upon me."* This was re ceived in high dudgeon by Congress, and provoked that body to do the very act which it been unjustly suspected of in tending: Lee was summarily dismissed from the army. He now hid himself from all public observation, slinking away in his half-ruined house on his Virginia es tate, and avoiding all companionship but that of his horses and dogs. " His dwel ling," says his biographer, "was more like a barn than a palace. Glass-windows and plastering would have been luxuri ous extravagance, and his furniture con sisted of a very few necessary articles." Without partitions, the one apartment of the house was divided into parts by lines of chalk ; and the eccentric old cam paigner, as he looked upon his bed in one corner, his guns, whips, and saddles, in another, his library in a third, and his kitchen in a fourth, congratulated him self that he could sit and oversee the whole without moving from his chair! Thus he lived for several years, until he found that hoeing tobacco, as he termed it, was rapidly bringing him into debt. He now removed to Philadelphia, where he took lodgings at an inn in Market street, known by the sign of " The Connes- tijoe Waggon? A few days after his arri val, he was attacked by a fever, which proved fatal, and he died on the 2d of October, 1782. The last words which the veteran was heard to utter in his delirium (doubtless inspired by the flickering re membrance of his European campaigns) were, "Stand by me, my brave grenadiers !" * Subsequently, however, on learning that the report was without foundation, he offered an apology to Congress. 130 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. In his will, General Lee showed his gratitude to those friends who had been faithful to him through all the vicissitudes of his strange career. Among his old aids- de-camp he divided his landed estate and distributed most of his horses, his " brood mares and his fillies," of which he had a choice variety. To his " old and faithful servant, or rather humble friend, Guiseppi Minghini," he bequeathed three hundred guineas, to his housekeeper one hundred and his stock of cattle, with all his negroes to be divided equally between the two. He also took care to leave money to buy "rings of affection" for this and that friend in whose memory he desired still to lin ger. This characteristic request closed the will : " I desire most earnestly that I may not be buried in any church or church yard, or within a mile of any Presbyterian or Anabaptist meetinghouse ; for, since I have resided in this country, I have kept so much bad company when living, that I do not choose to continue it when dead.* " I recommend my soul to the Creator of all worlds and of all creatures ; who must, from his visible attributes, be indif ferent to their modes of worship or creeds — whether Christians, Mohammedans, or Jews ; whether instilled by education or taken up by reflection ; whether more or less absurd; as a weak mortal can no more be answerable for his persuasions, notions, or even skepticism, in religion, than for the color of his skin." * Notwithstanding this expressed wish, Lee was interred in Christ churchyard, at Philadelphia, with military honors, and in presence of a large assemblage of the people, drawn together more by curiosity than veneration, to look upon the remains of one whose life had been so eventful. Lee passed away under a cloud which has perhaps for ever obscured his charac ter and motives. His conduct at Mon mouth has been differently appreciated. At the time, most men were of the opin ion that it was actuated by envy of Wash ington, whom he had hopes of supplant ing in the chief command, if, by thwarting his purposes, he could make it appear that the general-in-chief was unequal to his position. Others have not hesitated to charge Lee with treasonable designs, and have connected with his conduct at Monmouth an incident which occurred a short time previously: — "Soon after General Lee rejoined the army at Valley Forge," says Sparks, " a curious incident occurred. By order of Congress, General Washington was re quired to administer the oath of allegi ance to the general officers. The major- generals stood around Washington, and took hold of a bible together, according to the usual custom ; but just as he began to administer the oath, Lee deliberately withdrew his hand twice. This move ment was so singular, and was performed in so odd a manner, that the officers smiled, and Washington inquired the meaning of his hesitancy. Lee replied : ' As to King George, I am ready enough to absolve myself from all allegiance to him ; but I have some scruples about the prince of Wales.' The strangeness of this reply was such, that the officers burst into a broad laugh, and even Washington could not refrain from a smile. The ceremony was, of course, interrupted. It was re newed as soon as a composure Avas re stored proper for the solemnity of the oc- revolutionary.] CHARACTER OF LEE.— HIS TREASON PROVED. 131 casion, and Lee took the oath with the other officers."* While most men attributed Lee's con duct at Monmouth to envy, and some to treason, there were others who justified it, as the general himself strove to do, on the score of its propriety. Even Marshall, the impartial judge, declares that the rea- # A document, found among the papers of Lord and Sir William Howe, has lately come into the possession of the New- York Historical Society, which proves that Lee was guilty of an act of treason while a prisoner at New York, whatever may have been his conduct before or after. This document is in the handwriting of the general, and is en dorsed "Lee's Plan, 1777," by Strachey, the secretary of Lord and Sir William Howe. It contains an elaborate plan for a campaign against the Americans, by which the war, as the writer of the document says, " may be effectually put an end to." The paper was evidently drawn up for the benefit of the enemy, and submitted to the Howes, while Lee was a captive in New York. He proposed an expedi tion against New England, so as to keep the inhabitants there at home, and make it an easy matter for the British to hold possession of New York and the Jerseys. He suggest ed that, simultaneously with this movement eastward, a con siderable force should be sent up the Chesapeake bay, to land at and take possession of Annapolis, and march into the interior of Maryland as far as Queen Anne county. An other was to be despatched up the Potomac, and take pos session of Alexandria, when the two invading armies might form a junction ; while a third should ascend the Delaware and capture Philadelphia. The middle states would now be in subjection, and New England and the southern states would be too wide apart to act in efficient concert. " These things accomplished," adds Mr. Lossing, " and the system of resistance dismembered, all that would be necessary, to insure a complete subjugation of the revolted states to the crown, would be the issuing of proclamations of pardon to all who should desert the republican standard, and return to their allegiance to King George." The paper seems to have had its effect, for the subsequent southern campaign of the British accorded with the views set forth by Lee in his plan, upon the success of which he emphatically declares that he is ready to stake his life. With this document the treason of General Lee is proved beyond a donbt ; and his conduct at Monmouth was doubtless prompted by a desire to throw the game into the hands of the enemy, to whose interest while at New York he had pledged himself. (This " plan" of Lee was discovered at the close of 1857, among some papers said to have been brought from Nova Scotia, and offered for sale in New York. It was published in 1859 under the auspices of Professor George H. Moore, the libra rian of the Historical Society.) sons given by Lee for his retreat were such that, " if they do not absolutely es tablish its propriety, they give it so ques tionable a form as to render it probable that a public examination never would have taken place, could his proud spirit have stooped to offer explanation instead of outrage to the.commander-in-chief." It has been inferred, from the fact that Washington, after Lee's retreat, and hav ing temporarily deprived him of his com mand, should have immediately reinstated him on the field, that therefore it was his intention to have overlooked his conduct, until he was provoked into noticing it by Lee's insolent letters. This supposition, however, seems so to belittle the motives of Washington, by giving them a person al character, that it is surprising that his torians have ventured thus to dishonor the great man. " I will defy any person out of my own family," said Washington himself, " to say that I have ever mentioned his name, if it was to be avoided ; and when not, that I have studiously declined expressing any sentiment of him or his behavior." Lee did his utmost to provoke recrimination, but Washington passed by his malevo lence without notice, declaring : " I have neither the leisure nor inclination to en ter the lists with him in a newspaper; and, so far as his production points to personality, I can and do from my inmost soul despise it." Lee having by will left his papers in charge of Mr. Goddard, the editor of the "Maryland Journal?' who in 1785 proposed to publish them, and wrote to Washington, to know if he wished to examine them previously ; but the latter 132 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. declined, solemnly averring : " I can have no request to make concerning the work. I never had a difference with that gen tleman but on public grounds ; and my conduct toward him, on this occasion, was such only as I felt myself indispensably bound to adopt in discharge of the public trust reposed in me. Jf this produced in him unfavorable sentiments of me, I can never consider the conduct I pursued with respect to him either wrong or improper, however I may regret that it may have been differently viewed by him, and that it excited his anger and animadversions. Should there appear in General Lee's wri tings anything injurious or unfriendly to me, the impartial and dispassionate world must decide how far I deserved it, from the general tenor of my conduct." In passing judgment upon the charac ter of General Lee, it must be borne in mind that from the beginning he seems to have acted from interested and selfish motives. Thus, when on the 1 9 th of July, 1775, the continental Congress appointed a committee to wait upon him and notify him of his appointment, they reported that Lee gave for answer : " That he had the highest sense of the honor conferred upon him by the Congress ; that no effort in his power shall be wanting to serve the American cause ; but, before he en tered upon the service, he desired a con ference with a committee, to consist of one delegate from each of the associated colonies, to whom he desired to explain some par ticulars respecting his private fortune." A committee having been appointed, and reporting favorably, Congress "resolved that the colonies will indemnify General Lee for any loss of property which he may sustain by entering into their service ; and that the same be done by this or any future Con gress, as soon as such loss is ascertained." This was in marked contrast to the con duct of Washington, who, though incur ring a pecuniary risk far greater than that of Lee, not only required from Congress no surety for the safety of his private for tune, but nobly served throughout the war without personal reward. General Charles Lee "must hereafter be deservedly ranked with Church and Arnold, among the traitors whose deeds stain the annals of the American Revo lution Reckless and unprincipled, he was willing to be a traitor to both par ties ; but, fortunately for the republican cause, he was deprived of opportunities for doing mischief at a most critical time. — As a military adventurer, he was con tinually aiming to secure personal advan tages. Proud of his abilities, and puffed up by flatterers, he aspired to be the com mander-in-chief of the American armies. His ambition was checked at the outset. His meteoric light was dimmed by the steady planetary lustre of a greater than he ; and, chafed by disappointment, and hopes deferred, and a jealous spirit of ri valry, he was ready to betray the people who confided in his honor, and to seek preferment, fame, and fortune, through the dark lanes of treason and its abiding infamy."* * Lossing. revolutionary.] THE BEAUTIFUL VALLEY OF WYOMING. 133 CHAPTER LXXII. Description of the Vale of Wyoming. — An Indian Paradise. — "Delightful Wyoming." — A Change. — Quarrel of the Shawnees and the Delawares. — The Lords of Wyoming. — The First White Man. — Count Zinzendorf. — An Unbeliev ing Audience. — A Miracle. — Conversion. — Yankee Adventurers. — The Susquehanna Company. — Peace and Happi ness. — A Sudden Change. — Indian Massacre. — The Pennsylvania Company. — The Quarrel with Great Britain. — The Patriots of the Valley. — Wyoming in Danger. — Colonel Zebulon Butler. — Preparations for Defence. — Approach of the Enemy. — The Butler Rangers. — Encingerachtan. — The Battle. — Fratricide. — Massacre. — Suffering. — Horror upon Horror. — Surrender of Fort Forty. — Savage Orgies. — Tragic Laughter. — Flight of the Inhabitants. — Adventure and Suffering. — Desolate Wyoming. — A Metamorphosis. 1778. Among the mountains of Pennsyl vania, between the Blue Ridge and the Alleghanies, lies the valley of Wyo ming. Through a gap in the rugged wall of mountain which encloses it, the river Susquehanna bursts, and then winds in a gentle flow among the rolling fields and level meadows which, for more than a score of miles in length and three miles in breadth, form the fertile area of the vale. As the river turns and turns in its tortuous course through groves of wil low, sycamore, and maple, it widens here and there into lake-like expanses, where its waters are increased by the flow of other and smaller streams, which gush in noisy torrents from the mountains on all sides, but soon subside into gentle rivu lets as they course smoothly through the level meads. The scene of beauty pre sented by Wyoming is unsurpassed in Nature. The mountains, often precipi tous and rugged, and jagged here and there with wild ravines, either choked with the forestgrowth or flooded with turbulent torrents, increase by contrast the gentle beauties of the valley which they enclose. 82 Inviting, however, as is this beautiful valley to repose and happiness, it had hardly been the abode of either at the time of which Ave write. Long before the white man, attracted by its promise of generous reward to labor, sought to fix his home upon its fertile soil, the Indian had made it his favorite resort. The sav age may have been unconscious of the beauties, but he was familiar with the advantages, of the valley. Its seclusion offered comparative security to his wig wam, his squaw, and his children, hidden from a vindictive enemy among the ma ples on the river-bank, while he roamed beyond the mountains in pursuit of the elk. The stream which flowed close by his door was filled with fishes of all kinds — with the perch, the pike, the bass, the catfish, the roach, and the shad. Small game, too, abounded everywhere in the valley. The quail whistled in the mead ow ; the pheasant rustled in its leafy cov ert ; the wild-duck reared her brood and bent the reed in every islet ; and even the red deer ventured to browse upon the acclivities of the surrounding hills* * Miner's History of Wyoming. 134 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part ii. With nothing but the rude culture of the Indian, the maize grew abundantly on the fertile land ; while the wild plum, the grape, the hazelnut, and the butter nut, yielded a profuse harvest, without the care or labor of man. Such was "delightful Wyoming" by Na ture ; but it was never long a scene of peace and repose. Different tribes of In dians came to build their villages in the valley. There was plenty of room for all. The Nanticokes had settled on the east side of the Susquehanna, and the Shawnees in the meadows on the west ; when the Delawares, driven away from their native river by the warlike Iroquois, came also to settle in the valley, on the banks of the firstnamed stream. For awhile, peace reigned among them. The Delawares, however, being away up on the mountains, on a hunting-expedi tion, some of their squaws with their chil dren went to gather wild fruits along the banks of the river, when they came upon a company of Shawnee mothers and little ones. A Shawnee boy (so runs the tradi tion) having caught a large grasshopper, a quarrel arose between him and some of the little Delawares as to whom it be longed. The mothers now took part in the dispute, and from words they came to blows; when, after several had been killed in the strife, the Shawnees were forced to take to their canoes and paddle across to the side of the river where they belonged. When the Delaware warriors returned from the mountains, and heard of the quarrel and its fatal consequences, they resolved upon revenge. A fierce conflict ensued, in which nearly one half of the whole tribe of the Shawnees were killed, and the rest were driven for ever from the valley* In the course of time, the Delawares became the sole lords of Wy oming. The first white man who penetrated through the mountains to this secluded valley was Count Zinzendorf, who came with pious enthusiasm to convert the In dians.-}- He arrived in 1742, accompanied only by an interpreter, and boldly set up his tent on the outskirts of the village. He told the Indians, as they gathered threateningly about him, that he had crossed the great waters, and was a mes senger from the Great Spirit sent to teach them the true worship. They listened, but did not believe his word ; and, think ing that his object was to take their lands from him, they determined to destroy the intruder. With the genuine nature of Indians, they chose the night for the pur pose, and, with their tomahawks in their hands, groped their way to the good man's tent. As they lifted its folds, and were stealing in with cautious steps, they saw # They migrated to North Carolina, thenco to Ohio, and were finally removed to the " Indian reservation" in Kansas, where they now remain, in charge of Quakers. t Count Nicholas Louis Zinzendorf, the restorer of the sect of Moravians, was born at Dresden, in 1700. He was son of the elector of Saxony's chamberlain ; and was educated at Halle and Wittenberg. He early manifested an enthusiastic turn of mind with respect to religious concerns. In 1721, having given an asylum on his estate to some of the persecuted Moravian brethren, he espoused their doc trines, and became the head of their church. To spread those doctrines, and procure toleration for the professors of them, he travelled over a large part of continental Europe, visited England, and made two voyages to America. He died in 1760. The Moravians, and their head, were long the subject of many gross calumnies, from which, however, their meritorious conduct has amply vindicated them. — Cy clopaedia of Biography. revolutionary.] COUNT ZINDENDORF.— MASSACRE OF WHITES. 135 Zinzendorf seated upon a bundle of reeds which he had cut from the margin of the river, and writing in a book before him. At that moment a huge rattlesnake, which had been enlivened by the warmth of the fire that the count had lighted, came out of the hollow of a tree, and crawled over his feet, apparently without his being con scious of it. The deadly purpose of the savages was at once arrested ; and, believ ing that their visiter was under the pro tection and truly a messenger of the Great Spirit, they stole quietly back to the vil lage, and told of the wonder which they had beheld. This secured a favorable re ception for Zinzendorf among the Dela wares ; and the Moravians date their suc cess as missionaries among the Indians from this event. Other white visiters, however, soon came, with very different objects from those of the benevolent Zinzendorf. In 1750, a band of shrewd New-Englanders crossed the mountains, and, gazing from the summits of the surrounding hills upon the fertile valley of Wyoming, were at once impressed with the advantages it offered for a profitable enterprise. On contrasting the rugged hills of their na tive Connecticut with the fat lands which had gladdened their eyes from the mount ain-tops of the Susquehanna, they became dissatisfied with their home, and deter mined to emigrate. The " Susquehanna Company" was accordingly formed, for the purpose of trading with the Dela wares for their beautiful valley, and ma king arrangements for the proposed set tlement. The Indians were readily per suaded to part with " delightful Wyoming" for the sum of " two thousand pounds of current money of the province of New York." It was not, however, till the year 1762, after the close of the French War, that the New-Englanders took possession of their purchase, when some two hundred men entered the valley, and commenced clearing farms. They had cut down the timber, built their log-houses, and, before the winter frosts set in, had sown broad fields with wheat. They now concealed their implements of husbandry, that they might be secure from the depredations of the Indians, who still preserved their villages in the valley, and returned to pass the winter in Connecticut. In the spring of 1763 they came back with their wives and their children, their cattle and their household furniture, intending to make Wyoming their permanent home. The season had been favorable ; their crops had proved abundant, and the set tlers were looking forward with hope to a life of peace and happiness, when sud denly a large party of their savage neigh bors burst upon them with a loud war- whoop, and began an indiscriminate mas sacre. Twenty fell at the first attack, and the rest of the white settlers fled in fright to the mountains. The Indians, fearful that they would suffer a severe retribution from the hands of the whites, disappeared altogether from the valley ; when again, after an interval of six years, another hardy band of settlers came from Connecticut. There were no longer any red men to oppose them, but some hardly less savage whites now disputed posses sion of the valley. 136 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. A Pennsylvania company, in the mean while, had prevailed upon the Indians to sell their land over again, and repudiate the purchase of the New-Englanders. Accord ingly, when forty of the latter, under the authority of the Susquehanna Company, came to take possession of Wyoming, they found a formidable number of represen tatives of the rival association prepared to dispute it with them. A fight ensued, and the " Yankees" were driven off; but, coming back with a reinforcement, they finally, after a prolonged struggle,succeed- ed in securing possession of the ground. The dispute, however, still remained un decided, when the breaking out of the Revolutionary War diverted the inhabit ants of the valley from their own quarrel to that with Great Britain. The people, with prompt patriotism, eagerly came forward to sustain the cause of liberty. Two companies, of eighty-two men each, were raised in the town of Westmoreland, as the chief settlement in the valley of Wyoming was called. These readily obeyed the summons of Congress to join Washington, and aid in fighting the battles of the country. They were with the continental army in its camp at Brunswick, when their homes on the Sus quehanna were threatened with devasta tion by the savage allies of the British. Letters came from aged fathers, mothers, from wives and sisters, urging their nat ural protectors to hasten to the defence of all they loved. The summons was heard, but could not'' be obeyed. The men begged for permission to leave the army, and go to Wyoming, but were re fused. Congress and their own state of Connecticut were appealed to, but in vain. At the last moment, some twenty men, willing to risk all, deserted, and five com missioned officers resigned, and hastened to Wyoming, with the sad foreboding that they might be too late, and even power less if in time, to avert from their beloved vale the impending blow, but determined to share the common peril with their kin dred. Colonel Zebulon Butler, a continental officer, had been successful in his appli cation for leave of absence from the army, and, being chosen leader, now prepared to make every resistance which the val ley with its diminished population was capable of. On each side of the Susque hanna were several old forts, rudely con structed of logs. The principal one on the west, about two miles above Wilkes- barre, was " Fort Forty," so called from having been raised by the forty pioneers who came into the valley in 1769. This had been strengthened when the Revo lutionary War began, and blockhouses were now added to it, to shelter the wo men and children when forced to seek refuge from the enemy. Colonel Zebulon Butler now mustered all the force that he could gather. This amounted but "to two hundred and thirty enrolled men and seventy old people — boys, civil magistrates, and other volun teers." Most of the able-bodied men were with Washington's army, and those who had been left in the valley were the few whose labor was necessary to cultivate the land ; while the rest of the male in habitants were the aged and the sick. They all now came forward in the urgen- revolutionary.] WYOMING- INVADED BY TORIES AND INDIANS. 137 cy of danger. The strong men abandoned the fields; the old men and the feeble left their retreats beneath the sweet shades of the honeysuckled porch; the boys played no longer about the school- house. Age, youth, and sickness, were nerved to unusual vigor ; and every one, with musket on his shoulder, prepared to strike a blow for the defence of his home. While the men were being drilled from morning till night at the fort, the women and the girls cheerfully went forth into the fields to plant seed, make hay, or gar ner corn. They also bore a share in the mili tary preparations. A " pounder" was brought into the settlement ; " and the women took up their floors, dug out the earth, put it in casks, and run water through it (as ashes are leached) ; then took ashes in another cask, and made lye ; mixed the water from the earth with weak lye, boiled it, set it to cool, and the saltpetre rose to the top. Charcoal and sulphur were then used, and powder pro duced for the public defence."* The expected foe finally approached. On the last day of June, 1778, Colonel John Butler, a tory of Tryon county, in New York, an ally of Sir William and Sir Guy Johnson, and like them famous as a leader of the Indians, entered the head of the valley of Wyoming. The force with him numbered about eleven hun dred men, and was composed of the But ler Rangers, a detachment of Johnson's Royal Greens, and about six hundred In dians, led on by Encingerachtan, a chief of the "Turtle" tribe of theSenecas. Among Butler's troops were some tories who be- * Miner's History. longed to Wyoming valley, and who, hav ing been driven away from their homes, burned to revenge themselves upon the patriots, although they had been their old neighbors, and among them were their kindred. At the head of the valley there were still some settlers left who clung to the tory interests ; and as soon as Butler pre sented himself, his plans were facilitated by their connivance. Fort Wintermost was in the control of a family of that name, who, being loyalists, did not hesi tate to yield it up at once ; while another fort was forced to surrender. Butler then sent a summons to Fort Forty, which the resolute patriots who held it answered by a prompt refusal. As soon as the enemy had entered the valley, Colonel Zebulon Butler mustered all his force at the fort, where the settlers had fled for refuge. The summons to sur render having been refused, a council was held, to consider what next was to be done. The majority were for marching out against the foe, and giving them bat tle at once. Butler and some of the old er officers were in favor of delay, in the hopethatsome reinforcements which they had urgently entreated might be sent to their aid, would arrive. The impatience of the rest, however, could not be con trolled ; and Colonel Butler, though still opposed to the march, mounted his horse, exclaiming, " I tell you we go into great danger, but I can go as far as any of you !" and led forth his meager band of " three hundred men, old men, and boys." They set out on their march at three o'clock in the afternoon ; and, as JulyS. 138 BATTLES OF AMERICA. [part II. they advanced toward the head of the val ley, they saw Fort Wintermost in flames, which had been set on fire by the enemy, to give the impression that they were re tiring. /WVSu The colonel pushed on until he came within sight of the enemy, posted on a plain between the river Susquehanna and a marsh, when, selecting his ground, he drew up his little force. On the right of "Indian Butler" (as he was called, to dis tinguish him from the commander of the patriots) were his savage allies and the tories of Wyoming, while on his left were his own Rangers and Johnson's Royal Greens. The patriot Butler formed his line of the same extent, directly opposite, posting his right near the river, and his left, under Colonel Denison, toward the marsh. " Men, yonder is the enemy !" exclaim ed the patriot colonel. " We come out to fight, not only for liberty, but for life itself; and, what is dearer, to preserve our homes from conflagration, and our women and children from the tomahawk. Stand firm the first shock, and the Indi ans will give way. Every man to his duty!" — "Be firm! everything depends on resisting the first shock," repeated Colo nel Denison on the left : and the whole line was ordered to fire, and at each dis charge to advance a step. The men behaved themselves wdth cool ness, and kept up the fire steadily and with such effect, that at one moment the enemy appeared to waver ; but the Indi ans now came to their rescue. These sav ages plunged into the morass, to turn the left flank of the patriots ; while others, skulking behind the bushes and the pine- trees which grew near the river, kept up a galling fire on the right. Colonel Deni son strove to prevent the Indians from outflanking him, and ordered the left wing to fall back, that it might present a front to them. His raw militia, however, mis understood the order, and began to re treat. "Don't leave me, my children," cried their colonel, " and the victory is ours !" But it was too late. The great est confusion prevailed, and the patriots finally turned and fled in all directions, with the savages in fierce pursuit. Few escaped the merciless tomahawk ; no quar ter was shown, and many of those taken prisoners were put to death with cruel tortures. The Indians counted two hundred and twenty-seven scalps as their barbarous trophies of the day, and only spared the lives of five of the captives, who were saved with the greatest difficulty by the interposition of their white leader, Butler. Great as were the horrors of the massa cre, they were much exaggerated by the contemporary reports, which have been repeated by most ^y^ lent historians. Two well-authenticas>«i-cf incidents, howev er, were of a nature sufficiently terrible to set the imagination brooding, until hor ror accumulated upon horror. Several of the fugitives, having thrown away their arms, succeeded in swimming to an island in the river called Monocko- nock, and hid themselves amid the brush wood. The enemy were in hot pursuit, and followed them across the stream, and, having deliberately wiped their muskets, which had been wetted by the water, re- -=; m, o So