r W^BBmA. • i. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS DDD5D51fl7Efl Class_L-2^Q6. Book.^4i © K WASP f^©ir® N. THE ?5T MILITAKY HEROES REYOLUTION; WITH A NAHRATIVE OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. BY CHARLES J. PETERSON. PHILADELPHIA: WILLIAM A. LEARY No. 158 N. SECOND STREET. 1848. 'iZofc Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1546, by JAMES L. GIHON, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvanin JOHN H. GIHON, PRINTER, Comer of Siilh md Chwunl Slreefi. DAVID W. GIHON, BINDER, No. 98 Chesimt Sireet. ^ W Y\6 TO THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES, THIS WORK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR, ^ • PEEFACE. The following work has long been a favorite scheme of the author. When the idea of it first occurred to him, there was scarcely any book of a similar character. Some of the biog- raphies were composed five or six years ago, and were given to the public as fugitive contributions ; others are of a later date ; but nearly all were ready for the press a twelve-month since. Just as they arrived at this point, however, the an- nouncement of a publication somewhat resembling this, in- duced the abandonment of the enterprise, with the natural reflection, that in America at least, the delay recommended by Horace was not always advisable. Subsequently, how- O PREFACE. ever, the writer was .persuaded to prosecute his undertaking, and the result, with but httle alteration, is before the reader ! It was the original intention to have given, in one volume, a complete gallery of the military heroes of the United States, those of the war of 1812, as well as those of the war of Inde- pendence, The war with Mexico, however, frustrated this design, it being found that the material would swell to two volumes. The " Heroes of the War of 1812," and the " He- roes of the War writh Mexico," will together complete a se- cond volume, which is now passing through the press. The design of this work is to furnish brief, analytical por- traits of those military leaders who, either from superior abi- lity, or superior good fortune, have played the most promi- nent parts in the wars of the United States. Each biography is made the frame, as it were, for a battle picture, the combat chosen being that in which the hero of the memoir principally distinguished himself This has always appeared to the author the only true way to give a military portrait. What would a sketch of Hannibal be, without Cannse ; or one of Bruce with- out Bannockburn ? The battle in which a great hero dis- tinguishes himself, becomes a part of his biography. His fame, and sometimes even his character cannot be understood without it. The author has desired, accordingly, to write a book which should not only tell wlien Warren was born, where Putnam spent his youth, or who were the ancestors ot Greene and Wayne, but to enshrine as far as his feeble pen has power, the memory of those immortal heroes with Lex- ington, Bunker Hill, Eutaw and Stony Point. In executing this plan, it became necessary to omit many PREFACE. 7 whose rank wo aid seem to claim admission, and to introduce others whose subordinate positions have caused them hereto- fore to be overlooked. Thus the author has given sketches ot" Colonel Henry Lee, of Captain Kirkwood, of Ethan Allen, and of others ; but none of several Major-Generals. He hesitated for some time, whether Howard and Pickens ought not to be included with Williams and Sumpter ; whether the services of Captain Washington in the cavalry, and those of Clarke on the western frontier, did not entitle them to a place. He has admitted, perhaps, more foreigners than some may think ne- cessary ; but it must be recollected that the army was indebted for most of its discipline and military science to these men. He has also included Hamilton and Burr; but they have never heretofore been assigned their due prominence ; and moreover their biographies allowed the author to bring the history of the nation down to the present century, an import- ant addition to the completeness of his work as a whole. The author does not pretend to claim exemption from er- rors — no annalist can, least of all an annalist of the American revolution ! Many of the details of that period are involved in inextricable confusion. Whether Mercer suggested the march on Princeton ; whether Putnam brought on the battle of Bunker Hill ; whether Montgomery harangued his men be- fore the second barrier of Quebec ; whether Arnold was pre- sent at Stillwater ; whether the legend of Horse-Neck is true ; whether the battle of the Assunpink, so unaccountably neglect- ed by most writers, was a mere' skirmish or a desperate conflict ; whether any of the British, at Brandy wine, crossed the rivei lower than Jeffries' Ford ; whether the name of Wood Creek, 8 PREFACE. in 1777, was extended to the arm of the lake between Skeens- boro' and Ticonderoga ; whether the surprise at Trenton ori- ginated with Washington ; whether Burr intended to dismem- ber the Union — these, and other mooted points, perplex the historical student, and will, perhaps, always, continue to per- plex him. The author has contented himself merely with stating his opinions, discussion being foreign to the character of this work. Asa general rule, however, he has applied to the decision of all such questions, the logical maxim of the law, that, where a fact is distinctly stated by a credible eye- witness, circumstantial testimony against it is of little value. Many anecdotes are used in this narrative wliich have never been in print. The one relating to Washington's ad- dress at Trenton — " Now or never, this is our last chance" — is of this description. It came from the lips of a private soldier, who always had told it in the same way, and whose veracity was unimpeachable ; he was accustomed to say that Washington spoke under evident agitation, and that only him- self, and a few others close at hand, heard the words. The dramatic character of the address may induce some to discre- dit it ; but when the attending circumstances are considered, this becomes a proof of its authenticity. Far be it from the author to invade history with fiction ! Nothing can be more reprehensible than the practice, which has too much prevailed, of inventing anecdotes in relation to historical characters and passing them oif as realities. Forgers in literature should be as infamous as other forgers. But neither can we excuse those who studiously banish everything picturesque from their pages, as if history grew correct in proportion as it became PREFACE. 9 stupid. Rather should we preserve those stirring anecdotes, which illustrate a crisis, and which, to use the metaphor of Coleridge, tell a story " by flashes of lightning." The narrative of the war is intended not so much for a perfect history, as for a short, but as far as possible, compre- hensive review of the contest. It forms, it is believed, a pro- per introduction for a work intended, like this, for the people. The style, in consequence, is different from that which a more pretending narrative should exhibit. Of the various authorities the author has consulted, he has found " Sparks' American Biographies," the most generally correct ; and he desires to acknowledge, in this public man- ner, the assistance he has derived from that series. He would express his obligations in other quarters also, if the list would not swell this preface to an unwarrantable length. CONTENTS THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. PRELIMINARY CHAPTER, BOOK I, - BOOK II, - - _ BOOK III, - BOOK IV, - - - BOOK V, . 19 25 45 73 113 141 THE HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. ' George WASHiuGToif, . - « Joseph Wahhen, . _ - "^- IsHAEL Putnam, - _ _ Richard Montgomery, Lord Stirlino, - . - Ethan Allen, _ - « William MoaLTRiB, - - - 173 207 219 235 243 259 261 U 12 CONTENTS. HcsH Mehceh, Ahthur St. Claih, Philip Schuyler, JoHX Stark, Horatio Gates, Benedict Arnolu, , James Clinton, John Sullivan, Henry Knox, |-/ Baron Steuben, Charles Lee, Benjamin Lincoln, Anthony Wayne, il^^ Count Pulaski, Robert Kihkwood, -"i. Baron Dk Kalb, -^. Marq.ui9 De Lafayette, Nathanael Greene, / Otho H. Williams, Francis Marion, Thomas Sumpter, Henry Lee, Daniel Morgan, Thaddeus Kosciuszko, Alexander Hamilton, Aaron Burr, 269 277 285 295 309 323 343 347 355 359 365 385 391 403 407 409 413 421 443 445 453 457 461 465 469 477 ILLUSTRATIONS. ENGRAVINGS ON STEEL. Portrait of Washington, Frontispiece. Battle of Germantown, ...----•- Page 83 Battle of Guilford Court House, - - 1^5 Battle of Eutaw Springs, ►-- lo9 AVashington at the Battle of Princeton, .....--- 180 IJattle of the Assunpink, at Trenton, ...----- 193 Battle of Bunker Hill and Death of Warren, .__--- 217 Portrait of Major-General Arthur St. Clair, ._._-- 277 Saratoga Battle Ground, .__.------ 317 Portrait of Major-General Benedict Arnold, ------- 323 Fort Putnam, at West Point, ---------- 339 Portrait of Baron Steuben, -.-_----- 359 Battle Ground at Monmouth, .....---- 379 Pulaski Monument at Savannah, Ga., ..----- 406 Portrait of the Marquis La Fayette, (at the age of twenty-two years,) - 413 Portrait of Major-General Otho H. Williams, ..-_.- 443 Portrait of Brigadier-General Thomas Sumpter, .... - 455 Portrait of Brigadier-General Daniel Morgan, ... . _ - 4bl B 13 14 ILLUSTRATIONS. ENGRAVINGS ON WOOD. Residence of General W;iyne Chester Co., Pa., .... - Pa;.'e 5 Washington's Head-Quarters at Brandywine, - ...... 9 Washington's Head-Quarters at Valley Forge, - - - - - - 1 1 Buttle Ground at Stillwater, .--..---- 13 Ornamental Title Page, " The War of Independence," ----- 17 Head Piece, 1^ Tail Piece, 24 .\inericans Harassing the British on their Retreat from Concord, - - - 25 Ornamental Letter — Cap and Sword, ....... 25 Portrait of Patrick Henry, .....29 Reception of tlie News of the Repeal of the Stamp Act, ... - - 32 Fanueil Hall, Boston, ..._.....-- 34 Destruction of the Tea in Boston Harbor, ..._... 37 Carpenters' Hall, Philadelphia, .........40 Battle of Lexington, ....-------43 The Minute Man of the Revolution, ........ 4.') Ornamental Letter — Table and Sword, ....... 4.') Colonel Ethan Allen Summoning the Commander of Fort Ticonderoga to Surrender, 47 Siege of Boston, ...--..--.. 53 Quebec, .............55 Portrait of Admiral Sir Peter Parker, .... ....58 Independence Hall, ....--...--60 Committee Presenting the Declaration of Independence to Congress, ^ - til Portrait of Admiral Lord Howe, - - - fi5 Retreat of the Americans through New Jersey, ...... 68 Battle of Trenton, 7U Bunker Hill Monument, 72 Head Piece — Eagle and Flag. .......-.-73 Ornamental Letter, ._-.....-. 73 Portrait of Lord Cornwallis, ...._..--- 7t3 Birmingham Meeting-House, .........80 Battle of Red Bank, 84 Portrait of General Burgoyne, ....--...87 Burgoyne's Encampment on the Banks of the Hudson, - - - - - 91 Burgoyne's Retreat to Saratoga, ....-..- 95 Encampment at Valley Forge, ...... ..98 Signing the Treaty of Alliance at Paris, ....... 101 Portrait of Sir Henry Clinton, ......... 1U5 Ruins of Wyoming, ......... . 108 Tail Piece — Implements of War, ........ 112 Portrait of Major-General Nathanael Greene, ...... 113 Ornamental Letter, - - - - - - - - -113 Savannah in 1778, 118 Tarleton's Quarters, .-...-.--_. 122 Battle of the Cowpens, -- .....-.-131 Capture of the General Monk by the Hyder Ally, ..... ]4l Ornamental Letter, - .......... 141 Portrait of Commodore John Paul Jones, ....... 143 Capture of Major Andre, ........ .- 148 Continental Money, - - - - - - - - - -152 Portrait of Robert Morris, -.--..-- -- 154 ILLUSTRATIONS. ID Action off Cape Henry, - - Page 156 Y'orktown, in 1782, . - - - 161 Capture of Cornwal lis, - ]b4 Tail Piece— Cannon and Flag, 170 Ornamental Tide Page — " Heroes of the Revolution," ----- 171 Mount Vernon, .------ ----173 Ornamental Letter — Washington, .-------- 173 Washington's Interview with the Commander of the French Fort, - - - 176 Washington's Head-Qnarters at Cambridge, - - - - - - - 181 Copy of a Gold Medal Presented to "Washington by Cou^Tess, - - - 185 Washington Crossing the Delaware, ....---- 18S Washington's Head-Quarters at Morristown, - - - - - -197 Washington's Head-Quarters at Newburg, ------- 202 Tomb of "Washington at Mount Vernon, - - 2U6 Portrait of Major-General Joseph Warren, . - - - . . . 207 Ornamental Letter — Throwing up Intrenchinents, ------ 207 Tail Piece — Cap and Sword, - - - - - - - -- 218 Portrait of Major-General Israel Putnam, - - • 219 Ornamental Letter — Putnam Prepared for the Torture, - - - - 219 Ruins of Old Fort Ticonderoga, - - - - - - - - - 221 Battle of Bunker Hill, - - - - 227 Portrait of M;ijor-General Richard Montgomery, ------ 2.S5 Ornamental Letter, .--. ...-- 235 St. Johns, on the Sorel, ..-------. 2.37 Death of Montgomery at the Storming of Quebec, . - - . - 242 Head Piece — Sword, - - - - - - - - - - -243 Ornamental Letter — Officer taking Observations, ...... 243 Portrait of Major-General William Moultrie, .----.- 251 Ornamental Letter, .....------ 251 Portrait of Major-General Lord Stirling, ...----- 259 Ornamental Letter — Sentinel, .......-_ ^'59 The Retreat of the Americans at Long Island, ...--- v66 Tail Piece, '■^'58 Battle of Princeton, 2fi9 Ornamental Letter, ...-.----- 2G9 Tomb of General Mercer, at Laurel Hill Cemetery, near Philadelphia, - - 276 Death of General Wolfe, 277 Ornamental Letter, ......-..-- 277 Wolfe's Army Ascending the Heights of Abraham, ----- 284 Portrait of Major-General Philip Schuyler, ------- 285 Ornamental Letter — Sentinel, _----- ..- 28,) Massacre at Fort Henry in 1757, - 290 Portrait of Major-General John Stark, -------- 295 Ornamental Letter — Sentinel, ._.--.-- 295 General Abercrombie's Army Crossing Lake George, ----- 299 Portrait of John Langdon, - - - - - - - - - -301 Battle of Bennington, -- - 304 Tail Piece — Sword, -....------ 308 Portrait of Major-General Horatio Gates, ------- 309 Ornainental Letter — Eagle and Flag, - - ----- 309 Surrender of Burgoyne, -.--.--- --316 Medal Presented by Congress to General Gates, - -" - - - - 318 Shippen's House, Philadelphia, in which Gtneial Arnold was Married, - - 323 Ornamental Letter, ..-_---- -- 323 16 ILLUSTRATIONS. Montreal — Place d'Arms, Page 328 Washington's Head- Quarters at Tappan, 340 General James Clintons Escape from Fort Clinton, .----- 343 Ornamental Letter — Tomahawk, .-.------ 3-13 Portrait of Major-General John Sidlivan, and Ornamental Letter, - - - 347 Portrait of Major-General Henry Knox, and Ornamental Letter, - - - 355 Tail Piece — Artillery, ..--.------ 358 Head Piece — Prussian Soldiers, --------- 359 Ornamental Letter, ...-------- 359 Baron Steuben Drilling the American Army, ------- 361 Tail Piece, - - - 304 Portrait of Major-General Charles Lee, ... .... 365 Ornamental Letter, ...-------- 365 Tail Piece, 384 Portrait of Major-General Benjamin Lincoln, -....-- 385 Ornamental Letter, .... ..... 385 Portrait of Major-General Anthony Wayne, -391 Ornamental Letter, ...-- 391 Storming of Stony Point, .---------- 396 General Wayne Attempting to Quell the Mutiny of the Troops, - • - 398 General Wayne's Defeat of the Indians on the Miami, ..... 400 Tail Piece, 402 Head Piece — Pulaski and Polish Soldiers, ....... 403 Ornamental Letter, ....-..---- 403 Death of Count Pulaski, 406 Portrait of Major-General the Baron de Kalb, - - 407 Ornamental Letter, .......---- 407 The Battle of Camden, and Death of the Baron de Kalb, - - - - 410 Head Piece, and Ornamental Letter, - - - - - - - 411 Yorktown Battle-Ground, and Ornamental Letter, - - - - - - 413 Moore's House, Yorktown, in which Cornwallis Signed the Articles of Capitulation, 417 Tomb of General La Fayette, 420 General Greene's Entrance into Charleston, - - - - - - - 421 Ornamental Letter — The Dead Soldier, - - - - - - - -421 The Landlady Offering her Money to General Greene, ... - - 431 Portrait of Brigadier-General Francis Marion. ------- 445 Ornamental Letter — General Marion Inviting the British Otlcer to Dinner, - 44.S Sumpters Assault on the British at Rocky Mount. ...-.- 455 Ornamental Letter, ......-- ... 455 Portrait of Colonel Henry Lee, ......... 457 Ornamental Letter — Lee's Legion, ....-..- 457 Tail Piece, 4G0 Morgan at the Battle of Stillwater, _..----- 461 Ornainental Letter, -- .-.- 461 Portrait of Brigadier-General Thaddeus Koskiuszko, _ - - . - 465 Ornamental Letter, 465 Monument to the Memory of Koskiuszko at West Point, .... 468 Portrait of General Alexander Hamilton, ...-..- 409 Ornamental Letter, ...... .... 469 Tail Piece, - 47r Portrait of Colonel Aaron Burr, .......-- 477 Ornamental Letter, - - 477 Tail Piece, 487 '"^'iV^-i^V PRELIMINARY CHAPTER. I HE American Revolution, in whatever aspect , viewed, forms an epoch in history. That a com- paratively weak confederacy should undertake a war unassisted, against a power which had just humbled the proud- est throne in Europe, appears at first sight little short of madness. Never, perhaps, did England enjoy a more formidable position than at the beginning of the dispute with her colonies. Her armies had been victorious in the old world and the new. Her fleets had chased those of every adversary from the ocean. She had dictated peace to her antagonist. And while these events had been transact- ing in Europe and America, a commercial company had been con- quering for her the vast empire of the Indies. Her flag already floating over Quebec, Gibraltar and Calcutta ; her name heard with terror by distant and savage tribes ; men began to look forward to the day when the British empire, like the sea which she controlled, should circle the habitable globe. It was at this, the very height of her career, that the American Revolution occurred. The colonies contained, at that time, but three millions of people, divided by local prejudices, by difterences 19 / 20 HISTORY OF of religious opinion, and by mutual jealousies. In one sentiment only they agreed, a determination to resist oppression. Without arms, money or credit, they embarked in a contest from which France had just retired in despair. At a very early period of the war, the Americans were so completely overpowered that any other people would have abandoned the contest in despair. The battle of Trenton alone saved the country. The genius and resolution of Washington, in that eventful crisis, interposed to arrest the torrent of disaster ; he checked the flood and rolled it back on the foe. For eight years the conflict was protracted amid financial and military ditflculties almost incredible. At times the Americans were reduced to such straits that it was a greater triumph of military chieftainship, merely to keep an army together, than it would have been, under ordinary circumstances, to have achieved a decisive victory. Battle after battle was lost, city upon city fell into the hands of the foe, domestic treason conspired with foreign hirelings against the liberties of the land ; but the colonies, true to the principles of their immortal declaration, resolved to perish rather than submit. They acted in the spirit of the patriot who swore to demolish every house and burn every blade of grass before the invader. The Senate of Rome, when Hannibal was at the city gates, solemnly sold at auction the land on which he was encamped, the august members of that body competing, in their private capacities, who should pay the highest price : so indomitable was the sentiment of ancient freedom. Wash- ington, not less determined, when asked what he would do if the enemy drove him from Pennsylvania, replied, " I will retire to Augusta county, among the mountains of Virginia, or if necessary beyond the Alleghanies, but never yield." When such heroic reso- lutions are entertained, victory, sooner or later, must ensue ; and thus America, insignificant as she seemed, was able to humble the mistress of the world. But if we would correctly appreciate the American Revolution, we must look, not to the event itself, but to its consequences. The war of Independence was the first ever gained in behalf of the people, using that word as contradistinguished from a privileged class. Magna Charta was obtained for the benefit of a few nobles, while the majority of the population continued slaves to the soil. The boasted revolution of 1 688, was but a struggle between a despot and an oligarchy : the commonalty gaining as little by the elevation of William the Third, as they lost by the exile of James the Second. It was only the nobility, the gentry, the church, and the higher classes of merchants to whom it was of advantage. The govern- THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 21 ment passed from an irresponsible monarch to a landed and monied aristocracy : the people obtaining no share in it, and remaining still subjects and not citizens. But the American Revolution established the great principle of political equality. It elevated the poorest member of the commonwealth to an equal participation with the richest in the choice of his rulers ; and by teaching that the State must rely on the virtue of its citizens, and not on a miUtary force for support, invoked some of the most powerful sentiments of human nature in behalf of the permanency of the republic. The example thus set, has influenced the whole European conti- nent. The knowledge of the freedom of institutions in America, awakening the lethargic mind of the old world, has led to a general amelioration in the social and political condition of its millions of inhabitants. To the American Revolution may be traced, in a great measure, the revolution in France, — an incalculable blessing to man- kind, notwithstanding its excesses ; for if that terrific outbreak had not occurred, the chains of feudalism would probably remain im- broken ; long established customs would still hold the minds of men in thrall ; and Europe, instead of being in motion towards constitu- tional liberty, would lie inert and stupified, careless or ignorant of her inestimable rights. The hand of Providence may be discerned in the settlement, inde- pendence, and subsequent prosperity of the United States. The race of men who came to these shores was of that northern blood which has, in all ages, asserted its superiority over every other with which it has come in contact. Perhaps there never existed its equal in the capacity for material development. The very name of North- man suggests the idea of enterprise and progress. In anew country the genius of the race had free room for expansion, without being checked by old institutions as it was every where in Europe. A bold and hardy people was the consequence, possessing high notions of personal independence, and accustomed from the very first to choose their own rulers and make their own laws. Had a less energetic stock colonized these shores, the destiny of the western world would have been far different. No other people but one formed and nurtured as the early settlers were, could have achieved the inde- pendence of this country. Fortunately the materials for the state were of the best possible kind, nor was any parent community at hand to wither the young commonwealth by its protecting shadow ; but the colonies were suffered to grow into power, and to know their own strength, before the mother country interfered to harass them ; and by that time they were able to conquer their indepeu- 22 HISTOKY OK dence, and to maintain it afterwards. If instead of being three thousand miles away, the yomig republic had started upon European soil, it never would have been allowed to try the experiment of self- government unmolested ; but foreign powers, alarmed at the effect its example might produce, would early have interfered and crushed its development. In that case our liberties could only have been achieved by the blood and horror of a second P'rench Revolution ; and after we had filled Europe with the glare of conflagration, we might at last have proved unworthy of freedom. It is evident to the eye of the philosopher that the old world is worn out. There are cycles in empires, as well as in dynasties ; and Europe, after nearly two thousand years, seems to have fin- ished another term of civilization. The most polished nation in the eastern hemisphere is now where the Roman Empire was just before it verged to a decline : the same system of government, the same extremes of wealth and poverty, the same delusive prosperity characterizing both. Europe stands on the crust of a decayed vol- cano which at any time may fall in. The social fabric, in the old world, is in its dotage. The whole tendency of the philosophic mind abroad, is towards change ; but whence to seek relief, or in what manner to invoke it ? It is not too visionary to believe that from the new world will come the recuperative energy which is to restore the old, and that America is hereafter to return to Europe, in an improved condition, the civilization she borrowed in her youth. The one starts where the other leaves off". The United States begins with an experience of two thousand years. At the same ratio of progress with which it has advanced during the last century, it will attain, by the close of the next, a social and political elevation, at present incredible. Its population, exceeding that of any Empire but China, will all speak the same language, possess the same laws, and boast the same blood ; and history will be searched in vain for an example of such numbers collected into so compact a territory, or possessing equal intelligence and enterprize. It is then that emissaries will go hence to re-model the old world. And the time may even come, as a celebrated English writer has remarked, when Europe will be chiefly known and remembered from her connexions with Amerif^a : when travellers will visit England, as men now visit Italy, because once the seat of art ; and when antiquaries from cities beyond the Rocky Mountains, will wander among the ruins of Lon- don, almost incredulous that there had once been centred the com- merce of the world. With the Roman Empire the seeds of disunion existed in the THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCK, 23 variety of races acknowledging her sway, and in the fact that most of the provinces had originally been conquered nations and were never completely assimilated to her, or to each other. When the irruptions of the Goths occurred, this unwieldy and ill-cemented mass naturally fell to pieces. Even during the existence of the em- pire the government of the distant colonies was more or less imper- fect, as is indeed always the case with the provinces of an extensive monarchy or despotism. The body thrives wliile the extremities wither. But in the republic of the United States, these difficulties are obviated by the federal compact, which bestows on the general govermnent only such power as the states cannot conveniently use themselves, leaving to each common- wealth the right of local legislation. The nation is governed on the wise principle of representing the wishes of the people as a whole ; while each individual state is left to adjust its ov/n aftairs in tlie manner best suited to itself. For the purposes of a free peo- ple occupying an extended territory the federal league is the most wonderful discovery in the whole range of political science. It combines the separate independence of the. municipal system of Rome, with the compactness of a consolidated monarchy such as that of France. Like the magic tent in the fairy tale, it may shelter a family, or cover a continent. It moreover carries within itself the seeds of recuperation, and may be peaceably amended to suit the altered condition of the times. It is the only form of government for an extensive republic that can be relied on as permanent. A cursory observer would suppose, that on the slightest difference of opinion among the States, they would separate into as many hostile and independent nations : but experience has shown, as philosophy prognosticated, that the federal league weathers tempests that wreck even constitutional monarchies. It is the most pliable of all the forms of human government. Like those vast Druidical stones that are still the admiration of the world, though their builders are for- gotton, it is so nicely poised that while rocking under the finger of a child, it yet defies human power to hurl it to the ground. The story of the Revolution, pregnant with such mighty con- sequences, and the lives and characters of the great men who began and successfully completed it against such overwhelm- ing odds, cannot fail to be interesting, especially to the descend- ants of those who shed their blood in that quarrel. It is our purpose to narrate this theme : and we shall do it without further preface. AMERICANS HARASSING TUE BKIXISH 0.\ THEIR RETREAT FROM CONCORD. BOOK I. THE ORIGIN OF THE WAR. rillT HE American Revolution natu- =^" lally divides itself into five peri- ods. The first dates from the ~:^ passage of the Stamp Act to the ^^^ battle of Lexington. This was a period of popular excitement, 1 1 1 mcreasing in an accelerated ratio, until it burst forth with almost irresistable fury at Lexington and Bunker Hill. The second reaches to the battle of Trenton. During this period the popular enthusiasm died aAvay, and recruits were difficult to be obtained for the army : consequently the American forces were made up chiefly of ill-disciplined militia, wholly incapa- ble of opposing the splendid troops of England. As a result of this, the battle of Long Island was lost, and Washington was driven across the Delaware. In this emergency, even the most sanguine of the patriots were beginning to despair, when the commander in chief made his memorable attack at Trenton, and rescued the country from the brink of ruin. The third period brings us up to the important alliance with France. It was during this period that 4 c 25 26 HISTORY OP a regular army, having some pretentions to discipline, was first formed ; that the battles of Brandywine, Germantown and Mon- mouth were fought ; and that Burgoyne surrendered. It was a period when, notwithstanding the fortunes of the country occasion- ally ebbed, the cause of Independence on the whole steadily advanced. The fourth period embraces the war at the south. During this period the military operations of the British at the north were com- paratively neglected ; indeed England now began to regard the con- quest of the whole country as impossible, and therefore resolved to concentrate all her energies on one part, in hopes to subdue it at least. The fifth and last period, which had nearly proved fatal, after all, to Independence, comprises the capture of Cornwallis ; witnesses the deliverance of the nation from a financial crisis ; and finally beholds Independence acknowledged, and the enemy's troops withdrawn from our shores. To each of these periods we shall devote a book : the first we shall now portray. There can be no question but that the colonies would eventually have detached themselves from the mother country, even if the severance had not occurred at the period of which we write. While the provinces were young and feeble, they naturally looked to the parent state for countenance ; but Avhen they grew to manliood, the sentiment of Independence and the consciousness of importance sprang up together in their bosoms. In everything the colonies found themselves pinched and controlled by the supremacy of England. They were not allowed to trade where or when they pleased : they were compelled to pay a certain portion of the product of their mines to the king : and in many other ways they were made continually to feel that their existence was permitted, not so much for their own benefit, as for that of the parent state. Originally seeking a refuge in the new world because of religious and political tyranny at home, their independent spirit had increased, rather than diminished : and this naturally, in consequence of the agricultural life they led, and the democratic character of their colonial governments. There were, long before the Revolution, a few observing intellects who prognosticated, in consequence of these things, an ultimate disruption between America and England. The Swedish traveller, Kolm, twenty years before the contest, has re- corded the prophecies of such minds. But the great body of the people, not yet pressed on directly by the aggressions of the mother country, were insensible of wrong. A wise government wauld have temporized with the colonies and endeavored to avert as long as possible the breach which it THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. ' 27 saw to be inevitable ; but England, at the period of the Revolution, was ruled by a ministry which either could not or would not under- stand America. In an evil hour for Great Britain it was resolved to draw a revenue from the colonies by direct taxation. In vain Burke lifted his warning voice. "The fierce spirit of liberty," he said, " is stronger in the English colonies probably than with any other people of the earth," In vain a few discerning minds in England pointed to the examples of Pitt and Walpole, former prime-ministers, both of whom had refused to tax America. Said the latter shrewdly, " I will leave that measure to some one of my successors who has more courage than I have." The Grenville ministry, brave with the audacity of ignorant folly, resolved to undertake what others had shrunk from, and draw a revenue from America, not only incidentally as of old, but directly by a certain fixed tax. As a preliminary measure, however, two acts were passed, having reference to the trade and finances of the provinces. The first of these imposed heavy duties on indigo, coffee, silk, and many other articles, imported into the colonies from the West Indies, besides requiring the customs to be paid in gold or silver: by this act a very lucrative branch of commerce was at once destroyed. The second declared the paper money, which had been issued by the provinces to defray the expences of the war just closed, not a legal tender in the payment of debts. Each of these laws was equally irritating. But had the ministry stopped here, no immediate opposition would have been aroused ; for the colonies had been too long accustomed to old commercial restrictions to take offence at new ones. But these measures proving insufficient to raise the revenue which the ministers desired to reap from America — a direct tax was resolved upon, and the Stamp Act accordhigly brought forward. It has often been a subject of surprise that Great Britain should ever have entertained the idea of taxing America without her consent, or should have persisted in it after discovering her oppo- sition. But, when we consider the attending circumstances, all astonishment ceases. England had just come out of an expensive war, which though in reality produced by her own aggressions on this continent, she persuaded herself was undertaken for the defence of her colonies ; and therefore it seemed but natural that the pro- vinces should be made to pay a part of the cost. This was un- questionably the first view taken of the subject by the majority of the middle class of Englishmen. As the dispute advanced, this selfish desire to lighten their own burdens, received a new ally in 28 THE WAR OP INDEPENDENCE. the national obstinacy which would not brook opposition. Up to a comparatively late period of the war, these causes, combined with a feeling of contempt for America, as a province, produced a very extraordinary unity of sentiment among the country gentlemen in parliament, and the middle classes out of it, in favor of England persisting in her claim. In further confirmation of this view, is the fact that, from the hour when the dispute first began, up to the breaking out of the Revolution, the parliament, whether in the hands of a tory or whig ministry, never abandoned the assertion of its right to tax America. In 1766, when the Rockingham administration desired to repeal the Stamp Act, it was found necessary to preface it by a declaratory act, asserting the right of the mother country to bind the colonies in all cases whatever. In 1770, when Lord North brought in his bill to remove the obnoxious duties, he retained the duty on tea, expressly to reserve the right of parliamentary taxation. It is a lamentable truth, yet one to which the historian must not shut his eyes, that with the exception of a portion of the whigs, of the merchants engaged in the American trade, and of a few comprehensive mhids like those of Burke and Chatham, the great body even of intelligent Englishmen, regarded the provinces as factious colonies, and sustained, if they did not urge on the government in its domineering course. Moreover, the King, from first to last, was the uncompro- mising foe of conciliation. When these facts are understood, the riddle becomes plain. The coldness with wliich parliament and the people received the various appeals of the American Congress, prior to the war, is no longer a mystery ; the headlong obstinacy of the mother country ceases to astonish, for men are never so guilty of follies as when angry : and the inefliciency of subsequent conces- sions, which the Americans have been blamed for not receiving in a more generous spirit, becomes apparent, since never, during the whole progress of those conciliatory movements, did England aban- don the disputed claim. While the irritating cause is left in the wound, palliatives are but a mockery. The Stamp Act became a law on the 22d of March, 1765. Its direct effect was only the imposition of stamp duties on certain papers and documents used in the colonies. As it however em- bodied a great principle, of which itself was but the entering wedge, the provinces took the alarm the more readily, perhaps, inconsequence of the prevailing irritation in reference to the navigation laws, and the rigor with which they had begun to be enforced. At first, liowever, there was no public expression of discontent. The country THE STAMP ACT. 29 PATRICK HENBY. seemed to stand at gaze, struck dumb with astonishment. Patrick Henry, in the Virginia Assembly, led the way in giving voice to the popular feeling. He introduced into, and passed through that body a series of resolutions declaratory of the right of Virginia to be exempt from taxation, except by a vote of the provincial legis- lature, with the assent of his majesty or substitute : a right which the citizens of Virginia, the resolutions further asserted, inherited from their English ancestors, and had frequently had guaranteed to them by the King and people of Great Britain : a right, to attempt the destruction of which, would be subversive of the constitution, and of British and American freedom. It was, while advocating these resolutions, that the memorable scene occurred which Wirt graphically portrays. The orator was in the full torrent of decla- mation against the tyrannical act, when he exclaimed, " Csesar had his Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the Third" — But here he was interrupted by loud cries of "treason, treason," resounding through the house. Henry paused, drew himself up to his loftiest height, and fixing his undaunted eye on the speaker, 30 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. elevated his voice while he finished the sentence, "and George the Third may profit by their example. If this be treason, make the most of it." The boldness of the man, and of his words, were electric ; not only on the Assembly, but on the people at large. The retort hit the popular nerve, and thrilling through the nation, quickened the pulse and fired the heart of patriotism. It was like the spark of fire to the dry prairie : mstantaneously the whole country was in a blaze. Massachusetts was the next colony to give an impetus to the career of Revolution. The other provincial Assemblies had passed acts similar to that of Virginia ; but shrewd men saw that it required something more to produce a permanent eftect. As early as 1754, the plan of a general league, to carry on the ordinary government of the colonies, had been rejected by the ministry, after having been adopted by the provinces. A similar league suggested itself now as of use in this emergency. Simultaneously, the idea of a Congress of the colonies struck difterent minds in opposite sections of America. It was reserved for Massachusetts, however, to give this sentiment a voice. On the 6th of June, 1765, her legislature resolved it was expedient that a general Congress of deputies from all the provinces should meet at New York on the first Tuesday of October, to consult on their grievances. In the meantime the first riot of the Revolution occurred, and at Boston, from that time forth the head-quarters of turbulence and disaffection. Distributors of stamps had already been appointed for the several colonies, though the Stamp Act was not to go in opera- tion until the 1st of November. On the morning of the 14th of August, an effigy of Andrew Oliver, the distributor of stamps for Massachusetts, was discovered hanging from a tree on the town common, since known as the " liberty tree." At night a large mob assembled, which burned the effigy, and afterwards attacked the stamp office and residence of Oliver. The next day this obnoxious individual resigned. The popular leaders now strove to check further violence : but the mob was not satisfied until it had com- mitted other disgraceful outrages. Before the excitement subsided, the papers of the court of admiralty had been destroyed, the dwell- ings of the collectors of customs had been razed to the ground, and the beautiful garden, the richly furnished mansion, and the valuable library of state papers belonging to the lieutenant governor, Hutch- inson, had been sacrificed to the popular phrensy. In the other colonies the distributors of stamps averted a similar tumult by resigning. , THE STAMP ACT. 3] In October, 1765, the Congress assembled pursuant to recom- mendation. Deputies from nine colonies were in attendance. The attitude of the assembly was firm but conciliatory. A petition to the King, and a memorial to parliament, were prepared and signed by all the members present. In these documents the afiection of the provinces to the person of the King as well as to his government was enlarged on ; but at the same time the determination of the colonies to preserve their liberty was explicitly expressed. It was declared that the constitution guaranteed to British subjects im- munity from taxation, unless by their OAvn representatives ; while it was argued that the remote situation of the colonies practically forbade this representation, unless in their own provincial assem- blies. In conclusion a prayer was made for the redress of their wrongs. This petition and memorial had no effect, for the reasons we have before explained. The only benefit of the Congress was the bringing together leading men frpm the different colonies, by which a certain sort of unity of purpose was obtained, and a way opened for future assemblies of the kuid. In the end, it led to a closer acquaintance between the provinces, gradually removing the local prejudices that had formerly prevailed; and this, ultimately, to that feeling of a common interest almost amounting to nationality, with- out which the war of Independence would have failed in its first year. Thus, from comparatively small beginnings, does Providence work out his great designs. The 1st of November, the day on which the Stamp Act was to go into effect, at last arrived. The colonists had meantime resolved not to wear English goods until the illegal law was repealed. On this occasion, therefore, the citizens were all in homespun, rich and poor alike. At Boston the bells were tolled and the shops closed. At Portsmouth, N. H., a coffin inscribed " Liberty, setat cxlv years," was borne in funeral procession, interred to the sound of minute guns, and an oration pronounced over its grave. Everywhere the people acted as if some great calamity had happened : men spoke of freedom as if she had forever departed from their midst. Mean- time the Stamp Act became practically nugatory. The citizens refused to use the stamped paper. The regularly appointed officers declined the obnoxious duty. The attorneys determined to employ ordinary paper, as of old, in legal documents, in defiance of the law. Vessels were cleared without the stamped papers, no collector being willing to brave the popular odium. Even the royal governors had to bend to the storm and grant dispensations. 32 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. In the midst of the general depression and gloom came a sudden gleam of hope. The Grenville administration went out of office, and was succeeded by that of the Marquis of Rockingham. The new ministry was composed chiefly of whigs. One of its first acts was to agitate the repeal of the obnoxious law. Dr. Franklin, at that time in London, was called before the bar of the House of Com- mons, in order to be interrogated respecting the opinions of his countrymen and the condition of the colonies. His clear and in- telUgent answers, united to the moderation of his sentiments, pro- duced a great eftect on the public mind. After the passage of the declaratory act to which we have before alluded, the Stamp Act itself was repealed, March the 15th, 1766. The intelligence was // ^ "ill RECEPTION OF NEWS OF THE REPEAL OF THE STAMP ACT. received in America with transports of joy. At first the repeal was accepted as a boon, instead of being received as a right. All hostile thoughts were immediately laid aside : importations were renewed, homespun was discarded. But this extravagant joy was of short duration. As soon as the first burst of enthusiasm was over, and men began to comprehend more exactly the true condition of things, it was found that England still asserted her obnoxious claim, though for the time being she waived its exercise. This alarming fact dis- turbed the public mind with fears for the future. The tone of the royal governors, who acted on instructions from the ministry at home, was, moreover, supercilious and domineering to the last degree. In the short space of a year the wor^ suspicions of the colonists were verified. The Rockingham administration was overthrown, and succeeded by one in which Charles Townshend was con- spicuous. That gentleman revived the idea of taxing America. Accordingly, in June, 1767, a bill was signed by the King, imposing THE NEW TAX BILL. 33 duties on glass, tea, paper and colors imported into the colonies. This bill was thought to be such a one as the provinces could not complain of, since they had heretofore made a distinction between external and internal taxes : and the probability is, that, if such a bill had been originally passed in place of the Stamp Act, it would have received little or no opposition. But times had changed. The colonies had been taught to distrust the parent state : they had learned to examine into their own rights. The spirit of resistance which at first had flowed in a feeble and insignificant current, began to widen and deepen with new sources of complaint, until, finally, even greater concessions than it had originally asked, proving in- sufficient to restrain it — it rolled on, bearing down all opposition, and involving everything in its overwhelming torrent. The new tax bill was received in Massachusetts with peculiar disfavor. The legislature addressed a circular letter to the other colonies, requesting their aid in obtaining a redress of grievances. This gave great otfence to the English ministry, which sent out immediately a circular letter to the royal governors, in which the Massachusetts letter was denounced as factious. The governor of Massachusetts was ordered to require the Assembly to repeal the resolution on which the obnoxious epistle had been founded. On receiving a refusal he dissolved the Assembly. In the other pro- vinces the ministerial letter was treated with equal disregard. Meantime other causes of irritation were arising. The ministry had long desired to make the colonists support the royal troops quartered among them, which the colonists had continually refused. Before the dissolution of the Massachusetts Assembly, it had main- tained a triumphant altercation with the governor on this point. In New York, however, the ministry was more successful. In addition to their difficulties about the soldiery, came others in relation to the execution of the laws of trade. It had been usual to evade these laws very generally, but the commissioners now determined to ex- ercise the utmost rigor ; and in consequence, a riot arose at Boston in reference to the sloop Liberty, owned by John Hancock, which had just arrived from Madeira with a cargo of wines. The com- missioners in the end, had to ffy the town. In the very midst of these disorders several transports appeared with troops, and as the selectmen refused to provide for them, they were quartered in Fanueil Hall. More troops kept arriving, until, by the close of the year, the force in Boston amounted to four thousand men. The attitude assumed by JNIassachusetts was particularly exaspe- rating to the ministry. Charles Townshend was now dead, and 5 34 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. FANX'EU, HALL. had been succeeded by Lord North, who contmued to the end of the war, with but a slight intermission, to be prime minister. But the pohcy of England was not altered. In retaliation for what was called the factious spirit of Massachusetts a petition to the King was passed, beseeching him, and in effect authorizing the colonial governor to arrest and send to England for trial all persons suspected of treason. So glaring an outrage on the rights of the colonists was received in America with one general cry of indignation. For its boldness in denouncing this outrage, the Assembly of Virginia was dissolved by the royal governor, Lord Botetourt. But, nothing intimidated, the members met immediately, and recommended to their fellow citizens, again, the non-importation of British goods. Most of the other colonies imitated this example. The popular sentiment warmly seconded the movement : committees were ap- pointed to enforce compliance ; and the names of offenders were published in the newspapers and held up to public scorn as enemies of the country. RIOT AT BOSTON. 35 In the meantime, the people of Massachusetts finding their general court dissolved, boldly elected members to a convention ; the dif- ferent towns choosing the delegates. This act was a virtual declara- tion of independence. The convention, however, did little beyond petition the governor for a redress of grievances, and recommend endurance, patience and good order to the people. In May, 1768, a new general court met, when the old difficulties about the troops were revived. The court began by refusing to sit while Boston was occupied by an armed force. The governor then adjourned the sittings of the body to Cambridge. The court next remonstrated against the quartering of soldiers in the capital. The governor, in return, sent it an account of the expenditures for the support of the troops, and demanded that the sum should be paid, and a provision made for the future. The court refused to comply, and on this the governor prorogued it. The presence of the troops in Boston was naturally irritating to the inhabitants. A free people cannot brook an armed force. Fre- quent quarrels occurred between the townsfolk and the soldiery, but no serious difficulty arose until the fifth of March, 1770. On that day, however, an affray, in part premeditated on the side of the people, took place, in which the troops, as a means of self-preserva- tion, finally fired on the mob. Three men were killed, and several wounded, one of whom subsequently died. This affair has ever since gone by the name of the massacre. A collision Avas, perhaps, inevitable, considering that the very presence of the soldiers was an outrage ; but that the troops were not wholly to blame is proven by the fact that a Boston jury acquitted the captain who gave the order to fire, and that Josiah Quincy and John Adams, both popular leaders, felt it their duty to join in his defence. In all such cases the guilt ought to rest on the government which commands, and not on the officer who executes ; yet great honor is due the jury, since, perhaps, in no other community, under' equally exciting circum- stances, could a similar verdict have been obtained. Events now began to follow each other in rapid succession. The spirit of resistance was visibly on the increase. The ministry at last grew alarmed, and determined to try conciliatory measures. Accord- ingly, the duties on glass, paper and colors were repealed ; but the duty on tea, for the reasons we have stated, was left unaltered. This was a fatal blunder. Its effect was to neutralize all the rest that had been done. Nothing short of a total abandonment of the right of parlia- mentary taxation would now have satisfied the colonies ; and if England really wished to settle the dispute, she ought to have 36 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. yielded this claim at once and forever. But, like a miser from whom a part of his store is demanded in commutation, she haggled for a price, her concessions always falling short of what was desired, imtil finally, by her greediness, she lost all. The southern provinces, however, were less firm than Massachu- setts. In this latter colony the non-importation agreement continued to be observed in all its vigor ; but elsewhere an exception was made in favor of those articles exempted by the new bill. The enthusiasm of many persons had already sensibly declined under the restrictions to v/hich they had subjected themselves, and they were not sorry, therefore, to find an excuse for returning to the old and more comfortable order of things. Had the ministry, at this juncture, repealed the tax on tea, and assumed even the appearance of con- ciliation, there can be no doubt but that the majority of the colonists would have become perfecdy loyal once more : a blind fate, however, an inexplicable perversity, hurried Lord North forward, and, by re- solving to force on the provinces the obnoxious tea, he broke the last link existing between the two countries. Another of those fatal misapprehensions, however, of which the British ministry appear to have been the victims throughout these difficulties, was at the bottom of this new movement. Lord North had been made to believe that the colonies objected to the tax itself rather than to the principle involved in it : in other words, that they feared more for their pockets than for the invasion of their rights. Consequently he resolved to furnish them with tea cheaper than they had been able to purchase it before the existence of the tax, and this he effected by allowing the East India company to export it duty free. But the colonies were not so base as to be caught in this lure. The trick was at once discovered. The public press called on the people to resist this new encroachment on their liber- ties. Never before had all classes been so unanimous during the whole progress of the dispute ; and when the ships, freighted with tea, were announced off" the coast, the enthusiasm passed all bounds. Cargoes had been sent to New York, Philadelphia, Charleston and Boston. New York and Philadelphia refused to suffer the tea to be landed, and the ships returned to London without breaking bulk. At Charleston the tea, though discharged, was put in damp cellars where it spoiled. At Boston, the citizens desired to send the vessels back, but the authorities refused permission : a proceeding which gave rise to one of the most memorable events of the Revolution. We allude to the destruction of the tea in Boston harbor. DESTRUCTION OF TEA. 37 No sooner had the ships approached the wharves, than the people, acting through a committee appointed at a town meeting, gave notice to the captains not to land their cargoes. A guard was posted on the quay, and in case of any insult during the night, the alarm bell was to be rung. The excitement soon spread to the country, from whence the people arrived in large numbers. The consignees, fearing violence, finally fled to the protection of the castle. The governor, again solicited to clear the ships, haughtily refused. On this being declared at the town meeting, whither the inhabitants had collected almost spontaneously, an alarming scene of uproar ensued, in the midst of which a voice from the crowd raised the Indian war-whoop, and the meeting dissolved in confu- sion. As if foreseeing what was to ensue, the crowd hurried to the DESTKUCTIOJJ OF TEA I\ BOaTOM HARBOR. wharf, where the ships laden with tea were moored. In a few mmutes about forty individuals disguised like Indians, and apparently acting on a preconcerted plan, made their appearance in the mob, who opened eagerly to let them pass. A rush was made for the ships, the Indians boarding them, while the populace silently thronged the wharves. The hatches were soon removed, and a portion of the 38 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. patriots descending into the hold, passed up the tea, while the remainder broke open the chests as fast as they appeared, and threw the contents into the sea. It was night, and a profound stillness reigned. There was no cheering from the mob, no disorder, no haste. The only sound heard, was the crash of the chests, and tlie tread of the patriots as they crossed the decks. In two hours three hundred and forty chests were staved and emptied into the harbor. No other property whatever was injured. When all was finished, the disguised citizens left the ships, and quietly losing themselves among the crowd, disappeared, from that hour, from the public eye. Discovery would, perhaps, have led to the scaffold ; and hence those most active concealed their participation even from thefr own families. Tradition narrates one instance in which a good dame discovered, to her dismay, that her husband had been one of the Indians, in consequence of finding his shoes filled with tea the next morning by her bed-side. This memorable act, destined to excite the popular enthusiasm so much in subsequent times, happened on the 16th of December, 1773. On receiving intelligence of this event the British ministry were excessively exasperated ; and the feeling was shared by a majority of all classes in England. A bill was immediately passed through Parliament to deprive Boston of her privileges as a port of entry, and bestow them on Salem : another to revoke, in effect, the charter of Massachusetts, by making all magistrates in the colony be appointed by the King, and at his pleasure : and a third to give the royal go,vernor the power, at his discretion, to send persons charged with homicide, or other criminal offences, to England for trial. To these measures of rigor was added one of conciliation. The gov- ernor of Massachusetts was recalled, and General Gage, a man popular in the colonies, appointed in his place ; the most ample authority being given him to pardon all treasons and remit forfeitures. When the intelligence of these acts arrived in America, the whole country rose in sympathy and indignation. Virginia, as on the passage of the Stamp Act, was the first to sound the tocsin of alarm. The 1st of June, the day on which the port-bill was to take effect, was selected as a day of fasting, humiliation and prayer ; copies of the gfct were printed on mourning paper, and disseminated far and wide ; and popular orators in the public halls, as well as ministers of the gospel in their churches, exhausted eloquence and invective to inflame the minds of the people. The governor of Virginia, alarmed at the bold language of its Assembly, dissolved that body ; but not before the members had resolved that an attempt to coerce THE COLONISTS SEIZE THE PUBLIC ARMS. 39 one colony, should be regarded as an attack on all, and resisted accordingly. And as a pledge of the sincerity of this opinion, another general Congress was recommended,, in order that the colo- nies might deliberate, as one man, on what was best to be done for the interests of America. Thus the two nations, like hostile armies approaching each other, after successive skirmishes, which continu- ally grew more serious, had now met on a common battle-ground, and were marshalling their respective forces into a compact line for a general and decisive assault. The day on which the port-bill went into operation, as on the similar occasion of the Stamp Act, was observed throughout the country as a season of mourning. In Boston tears and lamentations were everywhere heard, mingled with angry execrations and threats ; for by this act whole families were reduced to indigence, and business of all kinds received a fatal blow. But, in the emergency, the sympathy of the country came to their aid. Salem tendered the use of her wharves to the merchants of the persecuted city, nobly refusing to take advantage of her neighbor's misfortunes : while collections for the relief of the sufferers were made in most of the colonies, and promptly forwarded. Ad^ed to this, a league, which was now started in Boston, to stop all commerce with England until the tyrannical acts were repealed, was enthusiastically received in the other colonies, and signed with avidity ; while the Virginia proposition for another general Congress was adopted by the several legislatures, and delegates chosen accordingly. The City of Phila- delphia, from its superior wealth and importance, as well as from its central situation, was designated as the place of meeting. Meanwhile the civil magistrates in Massachusetts suspended their functions, the people, since the law altering the appointment of these officers, interfering to prevent their holding courts, or otherwise ex- ercising authority. In these commotions, not only the irresponsible, but the wealthy took part : the landed proprietors being foremost. An opinion that war was inevitable began to spread. The Assem- bly of Massachusetts having been countermanded by General Gage, ninety of the members met, in defiance of the proclamation, and, among'other things, passed an act for the enlistment of a number of inhabitants to be ready to march at a minute's warning ; and .with such alacrity was this warlike movement seconded by the people, that, soon after, on a false alarm that the royal army had fired Bos- ton, thirty thousand men, in a few hours, assumed arms and pro- ceeded towards the scene of strife. Everywhere throughout the New England states the powder in the public magazines was seized. At 40 THE WAR OP INDEPENDENCE. Newport, R. I., the inhabitants took possession of forty pieces of cannon which defended the harbor. At Portsmouth, N. H., the people stormed the fort and carried off the artillery. The thmrder- bolts of war were rapidly forgmg. carpenters' hall, PHrLADELPHlA, WHERE THE FIRSf CONGRESS MET. The Congress met on the 14th of September, 1774. All the colo- nies were represented. Never before had so august a body assem- bled on the American continent. The members having been chosen for their ability, their prudence, or their large possessions, the confi- dence in them was extreme ; and they were universally regarded as men who, in some way or other, would rescue their country from its difficulties. There was, therefore, as if by tacit consent, a general pause on all sides, every eye being directed to this solemn and mo- mentous assembly. The first act of the Congress was to choose Peyton Randolph, of Virginia, President, and Charles Thomson, of Philadelphia, Secre- tary ; a selection hidicative of its future proceedings, both men being singularly remarkable for prudence and firmness. Its next was to pass a series of resolutions commending the province of Massachu- setts for its patriotic course. After this, it published a declaration of rights. Next it resolved to enter into a non-importation, non- ACTS OF THE FIRST CONGRESS. 41 consumption, and non-exportation agreement. And finally, it adopt- ed an address to the people of Great Britain, a memorial to the inhabitants of British America, and a petition to the King. These several documents were written with a moderation and eloquence which immediately attracted the attention of Europe, and have rendered them models of state papers even to the present time. The address to the people of England displayed particular merit. It avoided, with great tact, any oftence to their prejudices, while it strove to enlist them in the cause of America, by the common bond of interest. The memorial, however, wholly failed of its purpose, as did also the petition to the King : the public opinion in England, excepting with a portion of the whigs, continuing to be as obstinate as ever. The Congress, having executed its task in a manner to win the increased confidence of the country, and extort the applause of unprejudiced Europe, adjourned, after appointing the 10th of JNIay, 1775, for the convocation of another general Congress, by which period, it was supposed, the answers to the memorial would be received. The Legislature of Pennsylvania, which convoked towards the close of the year, was the first constitutional authority which ratified the acts of Congress, and elected deputies for the ensuing. Provi- sion was immediately made of gunpowder, iron, steel, saltpetre and other munitions of war. Maryland, Delaware, New Hampshire, and South Carolina soon after responded to the action of Congress in like manner ; while Massachusetts and Virginia, in which the flame of liberty had first blazed forth, emulated each other in enthu- siastic preparations for the appeal to arms. In the latter colony, the officers of the provincial militia, after expressing their loyalty to the King, signified their determination to embark in the cause of the Congress; while in the former place, regiments were formed at Marblehead, Salem, and other seaports, of men thrown out of em- ployment, and thus doubly exasperated against England. In a word, the whole country suddenly assumed the aspect of a garrisoned camp, about to be beseiged, where all men busied themselves with forging armor, preparing weapons, and disciplining actively against the arrival of the foe. But one exception existed to this unanimity of opinion }■ and that was in the case of the colony of New York. This province had been, from its foundation, less republican in the character of its in- stitutions than the others : and now, whether from this or other causes, it numbered a larger proportion of royalists than any sister colony. Moreover, the merchants of New York city were deeply interested 6 D* 42 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. against the non-importation agreement. In consequence, the recomr mendations of Congress were not responded to m this province. When the English ministry first saw the imposing attitude assumed by the Congress, and the enthusiasm with which the recommenda- tion was received by tlie Americans, the idea was for a moment entertained by Lord North, of making such concessions as would arrest the threatened conflict. The disaifection of New York, how- ever, changed the ministers resolution. Imbibing the idea that the loyalists in this latter colony outnumbered the patriots, and that they were a numerous and increasing body in the other provinces, he determined to abandon all thought of conciliation, believing that the Americans would yet eventuaUy succumb. In this opinion he was sustained by the declarations of General Grant, and others who had been in the provinces, and who boasted, that with five regiments the whole continent could be subdued. > Accordingly, several severe acts were immediately passed against the colonies. Their trade was restricted to Great Britain and the West India islands, and their lucrative fishery on the Newfoundland Banks prohibited ; an exception, however, being made in favor of New York and North Carolina. They also held out inducements for the difierent provinces to return to allegiance separately, hoping thus to break up the league, which was what they chiefly dreaded. They gave orders to embark ten thousand troops to America. And finally, as the crowning act of the whole, they declared the province of Massachusetts in a state of rebellion ; firmly believing that the use of that terrible word, so intimately associated with the axe and scaftbld, would frighten the colonists into submission. But they had to do with men of sterner stufl", and who were not to be moved by such anticipations. The sons of those patriots who had dared Charles the First in the height of his power ; had with- stood even the terrible Cromwell ; and had been willing to share the block with Russell and Sydney, in a gloomier hour, were not to be intimidated by the name of treason, or driven from their course even by the ghastly terrors of Temple Bar. The news of the proceedings of Parliament was received with a burst of indignant enthusiasm. In Massachusetts, as the province most nearly concerned, the flame blazed highest and most intense. The Congress of that colony passed, with acclamation, a resolution to purchase gmipowder and procure arms for a force of fifteen thousand men. The people busied themselves secretly in fulfilling this order. Camion balls were carried through the English post in carts of manure ; powder in the baskets of farmers retm-ning from market : and cartridges in ASSEMBLING OF THE MINUTE MEN. 43 BATTLE OF LEXINGTON. candle-boxes. Watches were posted at Cambridge, Roxbury, and Charlestown, to be on service day and night, in order to give warn- ing to the towns where magazines were kept, in case General Gage should despatch a force to seize them. Like the inhabitants of a feudal frontier in momentary expectation of invasion, the people, as it were, slept on their arms, ready, at the light of the first beacon, to vault into the saddle, and gallop on the foe. An outbreak could not be long averted. On the 18th of April, 1775, an expedition set out secretly from Boston, composed of the gi'enadiers and several companies of light infantry, destined to destroy the provincial stores collected at Concord, about twenty- eight miles distant. Notwithstanding precautions had been taken to preserve the expedition secret, the colonists received intelligence of the projected movement, and fleet couriers were despatched in advance, to alarm the towns along the route, and procure the removal of the stores. The bells rung ; cannon were fired ; beacons blazed on the night ; and everywhere the country was filled with excitement and alarm. The minute men turned out. The people armed. At Lexington a small party had assembled on the green, certainly with no intention of immediate strife, as their number was 44 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. too few, when, at daylight, the British grenadiers appeared in sight, and Major Pitcairn, considerably excited, riding up, exclaimed, "Disperse, you rebels, lay down your arms and disperse." The provincials hesitated to obey. Pitcairn, springing from the ranks, fired a pistol at the foremost minute-man, brandished his sword, and ordered the soldiers to fire. On this the provincials retired, sullenly lighting as they fled. The English commander, now sensible of his imprudence, hurried on eagerly to Concord. Here the inhabitants were found in arms, but, being too few to make a successful stand, they were routed by the light infantry, while the remainder of the royal force proceeded to destroy the stores, which the colonists had not had leisure to remove. This occupied some time, at the end of which the country people began to swarm to the scene. The light infantry, which at first had been victorious, was now in turn compelled to fly, and re- joining the grenadiers, the whole body commenced a precipitate retreat. The country rose with one sentiment, on hearing of the massacre at Lexington, and marched to intercept the fugitives on their retreat. In consequence, the English, on their way back to Boston, had to maintain a rmming fight ; the provincials harassing them from every cross-road, from behind stone fences, and from the windows of houses. But for the timely arrival of a reinforcement under Lord Percy, which joined the fugitives at Lexington, the whole detach- ment would have fallen a sacrifice. Weary, dispirited, and weak from wounds, the royal soldiers reached Charlestown neck at night- fall, and the next day slmik into Boston, where they remained besieged until the evacuation of the town in the succeeding year. In this manner was the first blow struck in the memorable war for American Independence : a war which laid the foundation of a mighty republic, and has since shaken half the habitable globe. THE MINUTE MAN OF THE EEVOLUTION. BOOK 11. TO THE BATTLE OP TRENTON. HE intelligence of the battle of Lex- ington traversed the country with the speed of a miracle. On the first news of the fight, couriers, mounted on fleet horses, started off" in every direc- ! tion, and when one gave out another took his place, so that before midnight : the event was known at Plymouth, and on the next day through all the _ peaceful vallies of Connecticut. Eve- rywhere the information was received as a signal for war. Old and young seized their arms and hastened without delay to Boston. The provincial leaders in the late French war, who had for nearly fifteen years of peace been quietly at work on their farms, re-appeared from their obscurity, resumed their swords, and called on 46 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. their countrymen to follow them in this new and more righteous quar- rel. The summons was obeyed with alacrity. The New Hampshire militia were on the ground almost before the smoke of battle had subsided : the Connecticut regiments followed in little more than a week ; while from Massachusetts the people poured in, with con- stantly increasing numbers, inland as well as sea-coast contributing its quota to the fray. On the day after the battle, the Provincial Congress of Mas- sachusetts ordered a levy of thirteen thousand six hundred men : an example which Avas followed, though of course on a smaller scale, by the other New England states. Before a month an army, fifteen thousand strong, besieged Boston. This imposing force was under the command of General Thomas Ward, of Massachusetts, who fixed his headquarters at Roxbury. General Putnam, of Connecticut, was posted at Cambridge, as his subor- dinate. At first the popular enthusiasm ran so high that the Generals were forced to decline recruits, more presenting themselves than they were authorized to enlist. Meantime, in consequence of the investment, a scarcity of food began to be felt in Boston. Skirmishes between the provincial and royal detachments sent out for supplies, were the frequent result. In this strait the citizens waited on General Gage and solicited permission to leave the town, to which he at first ac- ceded ; but in the end, fearing that the city would be set on fire as soon as the patriots had retired, he withdrew his consent. After this, none of the townspeople were suffered to depart, except in rare instances, and then only by the sacrifice of their furniture, which they were restricted from removing. Not only in New England, but throughout all the Middle and Southern colonies, the intelligence of the battle of Lexington was received with a burst of enthusiastic patriotism. In New York the tory ascendancy was swept away, never again to be recovered; in Virginia the inhabitants rose under Patrick Henry, and drove the governor. Lord Dunmore, to his fleet : in South Carolina a Provincial Congress was convoked, and every man in the colony ofiered for the service of the common cause : while in Maryland, Pennsylvania and New Jer- sey the public arms and treasures were seized, people of all classes, even some of the loyalists themselves, joining in a common cry of vengeance for their slaughtered countrymen. Meantime two bold and original minds, simultaneously, and in different sections of the country, conceived the idea of cap- turing Ticonderoga, a fort at the southern extremity of Lake CAPTURE OF FORT TICONDEROGA. 47 Champlain, commanding the highway to the Canadas. It was thought that not only would the fall of this place supply the colonies with artillery, of which they were deficient, but so bril- liant a feat, thus early in the war, would exercise a powerful moral influence. Colonel Ethan Allen, with a company of Green Mountain boys, had already started on this expedition, when he was overtaken by Colonel Arnold, of Connecticut, who had left the camp at Roxbury, on a like design. The surprise of the latter was ex- treme to find himself anticipated, but not less so than his chagrin. Bold and impetuous, yet haughty and irritable, he at first demurred to serving under Allen, but finally consented, and the two leaders moved on in company, with despatch and secrecy, on which every- thing depended. Arriving at Ticonderoga with but eighty three men, they surprised the fort at day -break on the 10th of May. But one sentry was at his post ; the Americans rushed in, formed into COL. ALLEN SUMMONING THE COMMANDER OF FORI TICONDEROGA TO SURRENDER. squares, and gave three cheers, which awoke the garrison. Some skirmishing ensued, but defence was vain. Hastily aroused from bed, the commander of the fort stepped forward, unable as yet to comprehend why, or by whom, he was assailed. " In whose name am I called on to surrender ?" he asked. " In the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental Congress ! " replied Allen. Pur- 48 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. suing their plan, the provincials sent a detachment immediately to Crown Point, another fort higher up the lake, which also fell into their possession. A British sloop of war was, soon after, captured by Arnold in the most brilliant manner. By these bold achieve- ments a large quantity of artillery and ammunition was obtained, besides the command of the great highway leading from the Cana- das to the Hudson. Arnold was left in command at Crown Point, while Allen retained Ticonderoga. When General Gage found himself besieged, he began to con- cert measures to break the meshes of his net. The provincial army extended in a semi-circle around Boston, on the land side, reaching from the Mystic river on the north, to Roxbury, on the south ; the whole line being twelve miles long, and suitably defended by ramparts of earth. Gage resolved to force this barricade, at Charlestown Neck. To do so it was first necessary to seize and fortify Bunker Hill, an elevation situated just where the peninsula shoots out from the mainland. The design, however, was pene- trated by the colonists, who resolved to anticipate him. Accordingly, at midnight on the 16th of June, a detachment of men, a thousand strong, under the command of Col. Prescott, was marched secretly across Charlestown Neck, with orders to entrench itself on the sum- mit of Bunker Hill. Putnam, however, who went with the detach- ment, being desirous of bringing on a battle, induced the alteration of the original plan, and the fortifications, instead of being erected on Bunker Hill, were begun on Breed's Hill, an elevation further in the peuhisula, and directly overlooking Boston. It was after uiidnight when the first spade was struck into the ground, but be- fore daAvn, which happened at this season at four o'clock, a con- siderable redoubt had risen on the summit of the hill : and when the enemy awoke, he beheld, with astonishment, this fortification tower- ing down upon him like some edifice of Arabian story, the magic exhalation of a night. It was instantly resolved to drive the Americans from the height. Accordingly a cannonade was begun from the royal ships in the river below, which was continued throughout the morning ; but the provincials worked silently on, and before noon had nearly completed their defences. These were a redoubt about eight rods square on the summit of the hill, flanked with a breast-work of earth, and a parapet running down towards Mystic river made of two parallel rail-fences, filled up between with hay. Some reinforcements arrived just as the battle was about to begin, raising the number of the provincials to nearly fifteen limidred, BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL, 49 Generals Pomeroy and Warren both joined the combatants ahnost at the moment of engagement, but dechned to fight except as vohui- teers. Consequently Col. Prescott continued in command. Putnam, though absent during the morning, was present when the crisis came, and by his voice and example contributed materially to the glory of the day. Two plans were proposed to dislodge the Americans. Clinton would have landed at Charlestown Neck, and by interposing between the detachment on Breed's Hill and the main army, compelled the surrender of the former. But Howe advocated a bolder plan. He proposed to storm the entrenchments in front. As this was more agreeable to the pride of the English, and to the contempt in which they held their enemy, it was finally adopted. A little after noon, accordingly, Howe crossed the river with ten companies of grena- diers, as many of light infantry, and a proportionate number of artillery. Having reconnoitered the redoubt, he thought proper to delay his attack until he had sent for reinforcements. It was three o'clock before he began to move up the hill, which he did slowly, his artillery playing as he advanced. The Americans, meanwhile, withheld their fire. " Do not pull a trigger until you can see their waistbands," said Putnam. Volley after volley poured from the British ranks : but there was no reply from the Americans ; the silence of death hung over their line. Some of the English began to think the colonists did not intend to fight. But a glittering array of mus- kets, projecting from their entrenchments, convinced the few who knew them better, otherwise. " Do not deceive yourselves," said one of the bravest of the royal officers to his companions, " when these Yankees are silent in this way, they mean something." At last the assailants were within eight rods of the defences. Suddenly a solitary musket blazed from the redoubt. It was the signal for a thousand others which went ofi' in irregular succession ; a scattering fire first rolling down the line, and then returning ; after which fol- lowed an explosion from the whole front, as if a volcano had burst forth. Each colonist had taken deliberate aim. The eftect was terrific. The English rank and file went down like grain beaten by a tempest. For an instant those who remained unhurt stopped, and ' gazed around as if unable to comprehend this sudden and unexpect- ed carnage : then, as the fire of the Americans, which had slackened, began again, they reeled wildly before it, broke, and fled down the hill. Three times the British troops were led to the assault. Twice they recoiled, broken and in dismav. Between the first and second 7 E 50 ' THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. l charge there was but a slight pause : the troops were rallied almost im- mediately and led to the charge again. As they advanced, the town of Charlestown was fired at the suggestion of Howe, that officer hoping that the smoke would conceal an attack intended to be made simulta- neously on the southern side of the redoubt. The wind, however, was unfavorable, and the colonists detected the manoeuvre ; while the sight of the burning houses inflamed them to new fury. Again the British were sulfered to approach within eight rods : again the colonists poured in their deadly fire : again the assailants broke and fled, this time in uttfer confusion, and in such wild terror that many did not stop until they reached the boats. Half an hour now elapsed before the courage of the British soldiers could be re-animated. At last, Clinton arrived to succor Howe. The troops were now rallied and led once more to the attack, with orders, this time, to carry the redoubt by the bayonet. The fate of the third assault would probably not have diflered from that of the two others, had not the ammunition of the colonists become exhausted. After a fruitless struggle, hand to hand, they were forced from the redoubt. Finding the day lost, a general retreat was ordered. It was during this retreat that the chief loss of the Americans occurred. After performing prodigies of valor, the provincials made good their escape over Charlestown Neck, leaving the enemy masters of the field. But it was a dearly bought victory for the King. The number of killed and wounded in the royal army was fifteen hundred ; while that of the Americans was but little over four hundred.. Though the possession of the field remained with the British, the moral effect of the day was on the side of the provin- cials. That a comparatively small body of ill-disciplined militia should hold in check a force of regular troops twice their number, was something new in military annals, and proved that the people capable of doing this were not to be despised as foes. From that day the English no longer scorned their enemy. Nor was the effect of the battle less powerful in Europe. Military men saw at once that, however protracted the strife might be, the victory must at last rest with the Americans. The whole continent gazed with surprise on this new and striking spectacle. Nowhere in the old world did there exist a country, the common people of which were capable of such heroic deeds. No European peasantry would have ventured to assume so bold an attitude, or to have defended it so obstinately. The battle of Bunker Hill revealed a new social prob- lem. It was as if a thunder-bolt had burst over astonished Europe ; and men stood in silent wonder and amazement, which increased PROCEEDINGS OF CONGRESS. 51 I as the storm rolled darker to the zenith, and the firmament quaked with new explosions. Meantime Congress had met on the appointed day, the 10th of May, when the news of the battle of Lexington being laid officiallv before them, they resolved unanimously that the colonies should be put in a state of defence. They issued instructions to procure pow- der ; passed a resolution to equip twenty thousand men ; and, in order to meet the necessary expenses, emitted bills of credit for which the faith of the united colonies was pledged. They now proceeded to the choice of a commander in chief. The New England states were anxious that one of their officers should be selected, but the more south- ern colonies regarded this proposal with disfavor. In this emergency John Adams suggested Col. George Washington, of Virginia, then a member of the Congress, and favorably known for his moderation, sound judgment, and military skill. The vote in his favor was unanimous. On being notified of the result, Washington made a few modest, yet dignified remarks. He expressed his unworthiness for the task, and begged the Congress to remember, in case of any failures on his part, that he had forewarned them of his incapacity He finished by declaring that, since no pecuniary consideration could induce him to abandon his domestic ease and enter this ardu- ous career, he did not wish to derive any profit from it, and would therefore accept no pay. The Congress next proceeded to issue a manifesto, justifying themselves before the world for the part they were taking. They also voted a letter to the English people, an address to the King, and an epistle to the Irish nation. They resolved fur- ther to thank the city of London for the countenance that she had shown them, as also to address the people of Canada, and invite them to make common cause against Great Britain. All these various documents were distinguished by a moderation and dignity which won the most favorable opinions among the conti- nental nations of Europe. The Congress also undertook measures to secure the neutrality of the Indian tribes, and counteract the machinations of Sir George Carleton, Governor of Canada, who was intriguing to arm them against the defenceless frontier. A general fast day was appointed, and it was considered a favorable omen that Georgia, which had hitherto been unrepresented in Congress, joined the league of the other colonies on the day fixed for this religious observance. Massachusetts was advised to form a govern- ment, for herself, which was accordingly done : and her example was r;eedily followed by New Hampshire, Virginia and Pennsylva- 52 THE WAR OP INDEPElfDENCE. nia. The Congress then devoted itself to the task of drawing up articles of federation, which should bind the colonies during the war : these being prepared, somewhat on the plan of the subsequent con- stitution, were accepted by all the colonies except North CaroUna. In short, matters were daily tending towards a formal separation of the provinces from the mother country, the necessity for such a de- termination hourly becoming more irresistible ; and the convictions of a few leading minds, moving with an accelerated speed in that direction, soon gathered around them the mass of the public senti- ment, and hurried it impetuously to the same conclusion. Washington lost no time in repairing to the army at Cam- bridge, which Congress had already adopted as its own. Here he found everything in confusion. The troops were rather a mob of enthusiastic patriots than a body of efficient soldiery. There was no pretence of discipline in the camp. The men elected their own officers, and consequently did very uiuch as they pleased. Their terms of enlistment were so short, that they had scarcely time to learn the routine of a soldier's duty, before their period expired, and they returned to their homes. There was little powder in the country, much less at camp. Added to this there existed an almost universal dissatisfaction among the higher officers at the Congressional appointments of Major and Brigadier Generals: a result inevitable, since all could not be gratified, and whoever was neglected was sure to complain. An ordinary man would have shrunk at once from this complication of difficulties. But Washing- ton set himself judiciously, yet firmly to correct these evils. Nor did he wholly fail. Jealousies were removed : discipline was strength- ened ; and munitions of war were provided ; but the main evil, the short enlistment of troops, could not be corrected in consequence of the jealousy of Congress against a standing army. It was not until later, when the country rocked on the very abyss of ruin, that Wash- ington's representations prevailed, and an earnest effi)rt was made to enlist soldiers for the war. Meantime the siege of Boston was continued with unabated vigor Congress had placed the army establishment at twenty thousand men; and nearly that number of troops now environed the hostile town. On the sea the colonies were not less active. Vessels had been fitted out by the difterent provinces, which distinguished themselves by their ac- tivity in preying upon British commerce. In this way numerous valu- able prizes were taken at a considerable distance from the coast, while ships, laden with provisions and munitions for the English army, were almost daily captured. In retaliation, the enemy began to LEE SENT TO FORTIFY NEW YORK. 53 SIEGE OF BOSTON. commit depredations on the coast. Frequent skirmishes occurred hi consequence, in which the colonists were not always worsted. This induced one act, at least, unworthy of the British name. About the middle of October, the town of Falmouth, in Massachusetts, was bombarded and reduced to ashes, as a punishment for some of its inhabitants having molested a ship laden Avith the effects of loyalists. The horrors of civil war were now beginning to be felt. Congress had desired that Boston might be stormed, and Wash- ington appears to have entertained the same wish, but a council of war decided against the measure, as calculated to risk too much. In the meanwhile intelligence was received of a secret expedition on the part of the British, under the command of Sir Henry Clinton ; and fearing it might be directed against New York, Major General Lee was despatched to fortify that city, and on his way, to raise troops in Connecticut for its defence. At New York it was discovered that Clinton's destination was the South, and at the request of Congress, Lee followed him thither. In another place we shall speak of the gallant repulse which the ememy's ex- pedition met. Leaving the army around Boston, to watch the straitened foe, and wait the coming in of the ever memorable year E* 54 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 1776, let us now retrace our steps to the preceding September, ui order to carry on, in an unbroken series from its commencement, the narrative of the war in Canada, Congress had early adopted the idea that the assisuince of Canada was necessary to success in the contest against the parent state. The refusal of the Canadians to side with England, though in reality pro- ceeding from inditference to either party, was interpreted as a proof of secret atiection to the colonial cause. Accordingly, one of the earliest measure of Congress was to send an address to the Canadians, backed by an armed force to act against the British authority. The command of this expedition was entrusted to Generals Schuyler and Montgom- ery, but the former falling sick, the latter obtained the sole direction of the enterprize. He was admirably fitted for his task, and advanced with rapidity. On the 10th of September, the Americans landed at St, John's, the first British post in Canada : and in a short time, with but one slight check, they had taken Fort Chamblee, St. John's, and Montreal; driving Sir George Carleton a fugitive to Quebec. Simultaneously with the expedition mider Montgomery, which had advanced by the usual route of Lake Champlain, another expedi- tion, commanded by Arnold, and despatched by Washington, was penetrating to Canada through the wilds of Maine. Never was a more difficult enterprize undertaken, or an apparent impossibility so gallant- ly overcome. Through trackless forests, across rugged hills, over rivers full of rapids, the little army made its way, often without food, more often without rest, and frequently drenched to the skin for days. In six weeks the expedition reached Canada. It burst on the aston- ished enemy, as if it had risen suddenly from tlie earth ; and in the first moments of consternation Quebec had nearly become its prey. But the enemy having been treacherously informed of Arnold's ap- proach, had made themselves ready to receive him; and he was forced to abandon the enterprise at present. On the first of December, how- ever, the forces of Montgomery and Arnold were united, and they resolved now to undertake together what Arnold had found himself incompetent to achieve alone. On the 31st, they made their com- bined attack on that celebrated fortress. Montgomery gained the heights of Abraham, but fell almost in the arms of victory ; and on this fatal event, the troops under him retreated. Arnold made an attack on the other side of the town, but was wounded in the leg at the first onset, and carried otf the field : the darkness of the morning prevented Morgan, who succeeded in the command, from pursuing the advantages he at first gained, and in the end that gallant officer, CANADA ABANDONED BY THE AMERICANS. with his riflemen, was captured. Thus the attack, on all sides, was repulsed. The subsequent story of the war in Canada is soon told. On the death of Montgomery, Arnold succeeded to the chief com- mand, and besieged Quebec ; but the small-pox appeared among his troops, and though he was reinforced, the breaking up of the ice in the succeeding May, enabling the English fleet to ascend the St. Lawrence, compelled him to retire. Meantime, the prejudices of the Canadians had been aroused against the Ameri- cans, partly in consequence of the indiscretions of our troops, so that instead of finding the people their friends, they discovered in them irreconcilable enemies. By the end of May, the British force in Canada amounted to thirteen thousand men. To continue, it was wisely judged, would be to play a losing game, and invite almost certain destruction. Accordingly, on the 15th of June, 1776, Gen- eral Sullivan, who had been sent meantime to take the command, abandoned Montreal, and led his army back to Crown Pomt, with comparative little loss. The enemy did not, at that time, follow the 56 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. receding wave, but in the succeeding year, as we shall find, poured his advancing tide on the track of the fugitives. Meanwhile, in England, preparations had been making to carry on the war with an energy that should at once put down, all further opposition. General Howe was to be sent out to supercede Gage, and Lord Howe was to accompany his brother with a fleet. As great difficulty, however, existed in enlist- ing a sufficient number of recruits in England, overtures were made, at first to Russia, and subsequently to Holland, to furnish soldiers. Great Britain to pay a fixed premium per head. In both cases the application failed. Some of the lesser German principali- ties were, however, found, at last, to consent that their soldiers should enter a foreign service. In this manner seventeen thousand Hessians were procured. The intelligence of this event was received in America with almost universal horror and detestation, and con- tributed materially to increase the exasperation of the colonies, and hasten their separation from the mother country. With this force of Hessians, and an additional one of nearly thirty thousand native born soldiers, the British government pre- pared to open the campaign of 1776. The ministry was the more active in its exertions, because desirous of striking some decisive blow before France should join in the quarrel ; for already it was foreseen that jealousy of her ancient rival would induce that power to assist America, as soon as convinced that a reconciliation was impossible. With these extensive prepara- tions, however, conciUation was not forgotten, and it was resolved to send out commissioners to America to grant individual amnesties, and to declare a colony, or colonies restored to its allegiance to the King, and therefore to be exempt from the hostility of the royal troops. It was hoped in this manner to seduce a portion of the pro- vincials back to loyalty, and thus break the combined strength of the whole. The two Howes were named as these commissioners. While these preparations were making in England, in America things were hastening to a crisis. The year opened with an un- diminished enthusiasm on the part of the continental army besieging Boston. The royal garrison suffered greatly for provisions. Before the end of February, Washington found himself at the head of four- teen thousand men. He had long wished to attack Boston, but had been overruled by his council of officers ; now, however, he resolved to commence offensive operations without delay. He accordingly determined to occupy Dorchester Heights, which commanded Boston on the south. On the 4th of March, 1776, the contemplated works ATTACK UPON CHxVRLESTON. 57 were begun, under cover of a heavy fire from the American battery on the British Hues. Howe, who had meantime arrived to supercede Gage, no sooner saw these fortifications rising on his right, than he resolved to dislodge the Americans ; and everything had been pre- pared for the assault, when a storm suddenly arose and prevented the conflict. The continentals, in the meantime, finished their works, which Howe now considered too strong to render an attack advisable. To remam longer in Boston, with Dorchester heights in possession of Washington, was impossible for the English General. Accordingly, he resolved to evacuate the place ; and Washington, on receiving notice of his intenton, agreed not to molest him. The evacuation was perfected on the 17th of March, on which day the inhabitants beheld with joy the British departing, tfle whole harbor being dotted with the transports that bore away the foe. Large numbers of loyalists followed the retreating army to Halifax. The Americans entered the evacuated city with rejoicings, and immedi- ately proceeded to fortify it ; after which Washington moved the main portion of his force in the direction of New York, where he foresaw the next attempt of the English would be made. We have intimated before that Gen. Lee, who had at first been despatched to fortify New York, had subsequently been sent to the Southern States, where it was expected a descent would be made by the English, at the instigation of the royalists, who, though less numerous than the whigs, were in considerable force there. As the spring advanced it became nearly certain that Charleston was the pro- jected point of attack. Accordingly, measures were taken to strength- en the harbor and place the town in a state of defence. Among other things, Sullivan's Island, six miles below the city, was fortified, as it was placed in a favorable position to command the channel. These hasty preparations had scarcely been completed when the expected English fleet arrived off the coast. The squadron was mider the command of Sir Peter Parker, and comprised two vessels of fifty guns each, four of twenty-eight, one of twenty -two, one of twenty, and two of eight. Besides this, there were nearly forty transports, containing three thousand land forces, under the command of Clinton. On the 25th of June, the English fleet advanced to the attack of the fort on Sullivan's Island ; Clinton, at the same time, intending to disembark on the neighboring island of Long Island, and assail the fort on land. But a succession of easterly winds had so deepened the channel between Sullivan's Island and Long Island, that Clinton found it impossible to ford it, and was compelled to abandon his part of the attack. The fleet nevertheless persisted. 8 58 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. ADMntAL SIR PETER PARKER. Three of the frigates, however, ran aground, and could not take up the positions assigned them. The others, nevertlieless, gallantly began the combat, which, for some horns, raged with awful fury. Never were greater prodigies of valor performed than on that day in the American fort. The city was in full sight across the water, and the inhabitants gazed anxiously on the spectacle. From ten o'clock in the morning until after twilight, the combat was aiain- tained on both sides with fury : the English firing shot and shells incessantly, the Americans replying from their guns with deliberate and deadly aim. All day the sky was black with bombs, whirling and hissing as they flew: all day the roar and blaze of artilleiy deafened DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 59 the ears and blinded the sight of the thousands of spectators. Many of the British vessels were almost cut to pieces ; their crews suffered terri- bly. Night came, but still the strife continued. Fiery missives crossed and re-crossed the heavens ; the smoke that lay along the water grew lurid in the darkness. At last the firing slackened. By eleven at night the fleet slipped cables and retired out of range of the fort. The next morning, one of the royal ships, the Acteon, which had grounded and could not be carried off, was set on fire and deserted, on which she blew up. Seven thousand balls, picked up on the island after the engagement, evinced the fury of the attack. When we consider that the American force consisted of less tlian four hun- dred regulars, with a few volunteer militia, we begin fully to com- prehend the greatness of the victory, which indeed was the Bunker Hill of the South. The loss of the British was two hundred and twenty-two, that of the Americans thirty-two. The. fort was subse- quently called Fort Moultrie, in honor of Colonel Moultrie, who commanded at the island during the battle. General Lee, who had posted himself nearer the city, not expecting the real struggle to occur at the fort, was only present once during the fight, having visited the island to cheer the troops. After his repulse, Sir Peter Parker sailed for Sandy Hook; Clinton, with his land forces accom- panying him : and several years elapsed before the English made a second assault on the South, the history of which attempt, in due time will form a chapter by itself. During the winter the public feeling in America had been growing more and more favorable to a total separation of the colonies from the mother country. Many able writers of essays and pamphlets, which were circulated extensively, had contributed to bring about this result. Among others, an Englishman named Thomas Paine, had rendered himself conspicuous by a pamphlet entitled " Common Sense," which demonstrated the benefits, practicability and necessity of independence, and with great vigor of language and force of invective, assailed monarchical governments. Congress, mean- time, approached nearer and nearer to independence, by passing laws more and more irreconcilable with allegiance. Thus, in May, reprisals were authorized, and the American ports opened to the whole world except England. At last, on the 7th of June, Richard Henry Lee, one of the delegates from Virginia, submitted a resolu- tion in Congress declaring the colonies free and independent states. *A series of animated and eloquent debates ensued. The wealthy state of Pennsylvania long hesitated, though finally she gave her consent. The original draft of the memorable document, called 60 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. INDEPENDENCE HALL. the Declaration of Independence, was from the pen of Thomas Jef- ferson. On its adoption it was ordered to be engrossed and signed by every member of the Congress. The resolution in favor of inde- pendence was finally passed on the 2nd of July, and the form of the declaration agreed to on the 4th. Custom has since observed the latter day as a public festival, a proceeding which John Adams pro- phetically foretold: "I am apt to believe," he wrote to his wife, " that this day will be celebrated by succeeding generations as a great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as a day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward, forevermore." The Declaration of Independence was hailed with general enthusi- asm, both in the army, and by the people at large. Men felt that the day of reconciliation had passed, that any compromise with England would have been hollow, and that the time had come to WASHINGTON \T NEW YORK. 61 throw away the scabbard, and dehide themselves no longer with false hopes of peace. For more than a year the provinces had vir- tually been in a state of independence. It was but proper, therefore to cast off disguise, and assume before the world the station they really held. If a few timorous souls drew back in terror from the act, and others continued to deceive themselves with idle hopes of a reconciliation, the great body of the people neither entertained such notions, nor shrank from assuming the required responsibility. ssOislSbSi mitt. ffiivr** *>.";« -t COJVlMirTEK PBESEKTIKG THE DECLARATION OF LVDEPENDENCE TO CONGRESS. The enthusiasm of the comitry was now, perhaps, at its highest point. Success hitherto had crowned nearly every effort of the colo- nists. Boston had fallen, the English were repulsed from Charleston, independence had been declared. But a new scene was now about to open. A period of disaster, and gloom, and despair, was to suc- ceed, ending at last in the apparently inevitable necessity of an uncon- ditional surrender. The dark days of the Revolution were at hand. As the curtain rises, the shadows lengthen. Meanwhile, Washington had taken up his position at New York, where he found that Putnam, the successor of Lee, had constructed a 62 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. chain of works. On the 25th of June, General Howe made his expect- ed appearance off Sandy Hook. His brother, Admiral Howe, arrived at the same place on the 12th of July : and shortly alter wards Clin- ton joined them from the South, bringing the three thousand troops repulsed at Charleston. The whole force of the British army, thus collected off New York, was twenty-four thousand men. Before commencing hostilities, however, Lord Howe, as instructed by the ministry, addressed a circular letter to the chief magistrates of the colonies, acquainting them with his powers, and desiring them to publish the same for the information of the people. Congress, conscious of possessing the popular affections, treated the commis- sioners with contempt, by sending Howe's documents to General Washington, to be proclaimed to the army, and ordering them also to be published in the newspapers. Lord Howe, about this time, attempted to open a correspondence with General Washington, by addressing him as George Washington, Esq., but the commander-in- chief, determining not to compromise his own dignity, or that of Congress, refused to receive any letter on public business, in which he was not addressed by his ofhcial titles. Preparations were now made by the British for their long contem- plated assault on New York: but, prior to this, it was deemed advisable to dislodge the Americans from their position on Long Island, opposite the city. The works here consisted of a fortification at Brooklyn, well defended on the left by the East River, on the right by the bay, and behind by the harbor and Governor's Island. In front of this fortification was an open plain, crossed by three great roads diverging from Brooklyn, and passing over a chain of wooded hills at some distance from the town. Each of these roads should have been defended, at the point where it crossed the hills, by a sufficiently numerous detachment to keep the pass : but unfor- tunately the Americans were not strong enough for this, their whole effective force being but twenty thousand men, of which a conside- rable portion had to be detained within the lines, at Brooklyn, at New York, and in various other places. The next best thing would have been to have kept the main body moving in front of Brooklyn, as on a centre, while small parties should be sent to occupy the three passes through the hills, so that, on notice being received where the English intended to attack in force, the Americans might be precipi- tated on that point. But, as if fate was resolved on that day to be against the colonies, Gen. Greene, to whom had been confided the works at Brooklyn, fell sick two days before the battle. Gen. Put- nam was sent to occupy his place, but owing to the hurry could BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND. 63 not fully make himself master of the nature of the ground in time for the attack. He, therefore, posted but an inconsiderable detachment at the eastern pass, reserving his principal force to meet the enemy at the central and western passes, by one of which he supposed the the main attack would be made. Putnam himself remained, during the day, within the entrenchments at Brooklyn. Sullivan had com- mand of all the troops without, and was posted on the plain, just within the central pass, where the road from Flatbush to Brooklyn traverses the hills. It was on the morning of the 28th of August, that the battle began. Early on the evening before. Gen. Clinton, who had been posted with the centre of the British army at Flatbush, discovered the weakness of the American forces at the eastern pass, and silently drew off in that direction, intending there to make the main attack. In the meantime, by way of a feint. General Grant, with the British left wing, was directed to advance against the Americans by tlie western pass. Accordingly, about three o'clock in the morning, he made the attack, which Lord Stirling, at the head of fifteen hundred Americans, prepared to resist. Grant, however, who had no wish to rout his opponent, contented himself with amusing Stirling, until he should hear of the success of Clinton's intended movement to get be- tween the main body of the Americans and Brooklyn. General de Heister,who commmanded the British centre, manoeuvred meanwhile in front of the middle pass, not wishing to advance in earnest until Cluiton should carry his point : but, in order to deceive, he began at sunrise a distant cannonade on the redoubt opposite him, where General Sullivan, with the main body of our troops, was stationed. Thus, two portions of the British army combined to amuse their opponents, while a third was insidiously stealing into their rear. Had the detachment posted to watch the eastern route been active and brave, no surprise would have taken place. But Clinton, arriving at the pass before day, captured the whole party before they had even suspected his approach, and immediately crossing the hills, he poured his splendid legions into the plain below, and began to interpose himself between Sullivan and Brooklyn. The \'ery existence of America trembled in the balance at that moment. But fortunately the manoeuvre of Clinton was detected before it was too late. Sullivan, discovering that Clinton was in his rear, began a retreat to the lines, but he had not retired far before he was met by that General, and forced back in the direction of Heister, who, as soon as made aware of the success of Clinton's stratagem, had dashed over the hills, and impetuously assailed the Americans. 64 THE WAR OP IXDEPENDEXCE. Thus, tossed to and fro between two bodies of the enemy, now facing Heister, now retreating before Clinton, the troops under Sul- livan, in spite of the most desperate etlbrts, durhig which a portion actually cut their way through the foe, and escaped to Brooklyn, were finally compelled, with their leader, to lay down their arms. Lord Stirling, whom we left amused by Grant, was equally unfor- tunate. When this last officer advanced in earnest, he was taken prisoner with foin* hundred of his men, although not until he had secured the retreat of the remainder. The victorious English, advancing with loud huzzas across the plains, drove what was left of the American army within the lines, where dismay and terror reigned universal, for an immediate assault was expected. Had General Howe then yielded to the importunities of his officers, and led the excited soldiers to the charge, there is little doubt but that his victory would have been complete, and the whole American force on the Long Island side of the river become his prey. But his habitual prudence prevailing, he ordered a halt, and commenced leisurely to break ground in due form before the entrenchments. Washington availed himself of this blunder to withdraw from a posi- tion no longer tenable, and in the night transported his troops, their artillery, and all his munitions of war, in safety to New York. The loss of the Americans in this battle was over a thousand ; that of the English but three hundred and fifty. It was not only in its immediate effects, however, that the defeat was so disastrous ; the remoter results were even more injurious to the American cause. The battle of Long Island was the first pitched battle between the continental army and the British. Great, even extravagant expec- tations had been formed concerning the prowess of the continental army ; and now, with the versatility of the popular mind, despair succeeded to former elation. It was thought impossible for Ameri- can soldiers ever to be brought to face the disciplined troops of England. This sentiment found its way into the camp, and pro- duced the most alarming desertions. Added to this, the men whose terms began to expire, refused to re-enlist. The exertions of Wash- ington and Lee, however, delayed the reduction of the army for a while. Indeed, but for them, it would have crumbled to pieces like a fabric of ashes at the touch of the hand. A few days after the battle of Long Island, Lord Howe attempt- ed to open a correspondence with the American Congress, imagining that, in the general terror, the members would eagerly accept terms which they would have refused a few days before. To have declmed hearing him, would have looked as if that body was insin- WASHINGTON WITHDRAWS FROM NEW YORK. 65 cere in its desire to terminate the war. Accordingly, a committee was appointed to wait on Lord Howe. But finding that he pos- sessed no power to treat, but only to grant pardons. Congress refused to hold any further correspondence with him, and this attempt at reconciliation proved as abortive as former ones. LOKD HOWE. General Washington now divided his army, leaving four thousand five hundred men in the city of New York, and stationing six thou- sand five hundred at HEerlem, and twelve thousand at Kingsbridge. He did this in order to prepare for an event which he saw to be inevitable, the ultimate evacuation of New York. A body of four thousand men landing under Clinton at Kipp's Bay, three miles above the city, drove in a detachment of American troops stationed there. Washington hurried to the scene, and threatened to cut down the panic-struck soldiers, but in vain, and the affair ended in an inglorious flight. In consequence of this, Washington withdrew from New York entirely, contenting himself with occupying the 9 r* 66 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. neighboring heights. The retreat was effected in good order, chiefly under the direction of Putnam. General Washington now strove to accustom his troops to face the enemy, by engaging them in a succession of skirmishes. In one of these affairs, on the 1 6th of September, the Americans gained some advantages ; but they had to mourn the loss of Colonel Knowlton and Major Leitch, two valuable officers. At last Wash- ington found it necessary to retreat from York Island, as he had already done from the city of New York. He fell back, accordingly, to White Plains, evacuating all his posts on the island except Fort Washington, at the upper end, where a garrison of three thousand men was left, it being vainly supposed that this stronghold, with that of Fort Lee, on the opposite side of the Hudson, would enable the Americans to retain the command of the river. As fast as Washington retired, the royal army pursued, until the former came to a stand at White Plains, where he threw up entrenchments. Here he was attacked by Howe, on the 2Sth of Octo- ber, and an action ensued, in which several hundreds fell : among these was the brave Colonel Smallwood, whose regiment, at Long Island, had borne the brunt of the fight. In consequence of this action, Washington took up a new and stronger position, with his right wing resting on some hills. On the 30th, Howe, who had meantime waited for his rear to come up, prepared to renew his attack ; but a violent storm arising, he was forced to forego his purpose. Washington now changed his station again, withdrawing to North Castle, about five miles from White Plains, where he took up a position nearly, if not quite impregnable. Thus finding the prey escaped, which he had flattered himself was within his grasp, Howe changed his plan of operations, and determined to retrace his steps, and reduce Fort Washington, in his rear. The American General, learning this purpose, left Lee at North Castle Avith a por- tion of his force, and hastened to Fort Lee, opposite the threatened post, to watch his enemy. At first it was suggested that Fort Washington should be aban- doned ; but this counsel being overruled. Colonel Magaw, with a garrison of nearly three thousand men, was left to defend the place. On the 16th of November, the British advanced to the assault, after having summoned the post and been defied. The attack was vehe- ment and irresistible. The Americans were driven from the outer works, and finally forced to surrender as prisoners of war. The loss of the English, however, was severe, they suftering in round num- bers not less than eight hundred. But this did not compensate the DESPONDENCY OF THE AMERICANS. 67 Americans for the capture of over two thousand of their best troops, and the moral etiect of so terrible a disaster following on the heels of that of Long Island. The attempt to hold the fort was a mistake, for which General Greene is principally chargeable. In consequence of its fall, Fort Lee, on the opposite side of the Hudson, had to be evacuated. This was done in the most gallant style. General Greene fully redeeming his late blunder, by bringing off the army in safety, although Cornwallis, with six thousand victorious troops, was thmi- dering in his rear. The retreat, however, had to be effected in such haste as to render a sacrifice of a vast quantity of artillery and mili- tary stores indispensable; Greene having barely time to escape with his men the moment he heard of the loss of Fort Washington, and that Cornwallis had crossed the Hudson. These successive disasters, following one upon another, reduced the American cause to the very verge of ruin. From the period tlie British had landed on Long Island, a series of misfortunes had pur- sued the army of Washington. Every day had seen his troops re- tiring before those of the enemy ; every hour had beheld his force dwindling down ; every moment had witnessed the increasing despondency of the friends of liberty, both within and without the camp. The terms of large numbers of the men were now expiring, and the consequences of these disasters begun to be felt. Few would re-enlist. The enthusiasm which had first called them from their homes had begun to subside under the privations of a camp, and had now been completely dissipated by misfortune. The cause of America was generally regarded as lost. This feeling of des- pair even spread among the officers, and it required all Washington's firmness of mind to check its progress. But with the common men nothing could be done to check the panic. In vain did Congress endeavor to supply the places of those who retired, by new recruits. Even a bounty of twenty dollars to each private who would engage for the war, failed to hasten enlistments : and though the offer was subsequently made to all who would contract for three years, it proved equally inoperative. The army of Washington by these causes : by loss in battle, by desertion, by the capture of Fort Washington, and by the expiration of enlistments, had now sunk to little over three thousand men. The British, aware of his weakness, and convinced that a few decisive blows would finish the war forever, resolved not to go into winter quarters, but to follow up their successes by the pursuit and anni- hilation of the small force remaining in arms under Washing- ton. Accordingly, they pushed on to Newark, in New Jersey, 68 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. whither the American commander had retired. At this, Washing- ton fell back to New Brunswick. But tlie enemy still followed. As a last refuge he hurried to place the Delaware between him and his foe. On the 8th of December, he reached that river and retired across it, destroying the bridges, and removing all the boats, to secure his retreat. Scarcely had his rear gained the welcome right bank, than the English appeared on the left, but finding no means of crossing, they fell back in chagrm. RETREAT OF THE AMERICAN ARIIV TIIROUGH NEW JERSEY. To add to the despondency of the times, the news was received, about this period, of the capture of General Lee, who had been tar- dily approaching Washington, in order to effect a junction. Lee had incautiously spent the night three miles from his forces, with but a small guard in attendance, when an English cavalry officer, hearing by accident of his unprotected situation, by a bold dash secured the valuable prize. As Lee was second in command in the army, and as the country entertained a high opinion of his abilities, his loss, at this critical moment, struck the last prop from the hopes of the patriots, and induced almost universal despair. Indeed, there was no longer any rational prospect of success on the part of the Americans. Heaven and earth seemed to have con- spired against their cause : and to have removed from it the counte- nance of man and God alike. Their best Generals were prisoners : their most wisely concerted plans had failed, almost as if by the direct interposition of fate ; and that popular enthusiasm, which had WASHINGTON RESOLVES TO RE-CROSS THE DELAWARE. 69 been relied on as the support of the cause, and which at first had promised to sweep away all opposition before its resistless wave, had now subsided and left the country a wreck, high and dry on the shore. With three thousand men, Washington occupied the Delaware, while the British, with twenty thousand, swarmed over the Jerseys in pursuit. Already Philadelphia was threatened, and the most sanguine thought its capture could not be delayed a month. Congress had fled to Baltimore. Terror, panic, despair, and a self- ish desire to save themselves, began to affect even the best patriots. The clouds stooped low and black, and the tempest hurtled around every man's home. To add to the awful gloom of the crisis, HoAve now issued a pro- clamation, ofl'ering a pardon to all who would lay down their arms and take the oath of allegiance, within sixty days. Instpaitly, hun- dreds grasped at what they deemed a fortunate chance of escape : former professions were forgotten in present panic : and throughout New Jersey and Pennsylvania, the most alarming defections, even among leaders in the popular cause, daily occurred. The loyalists, who had been heretofore overawed, now vented their long concealed rage : plunder, insult, and oppression became the daily lot of the suffering patriots. Almost alone, beneath this driving storm, Washington stood up erect and unappalled. For one moment his constancy did not forsake him. He was, in that awful hour, the Achilles and Atlas of the cause. No hint of submission ever crossed his lips : no word of despondency or doubt was heard. His unshaken front inspired Congress anew, warmed the drooping enthu- siasm of his army, and finally enabled him to deal a blow which rescued the country at the very instant of ruin, and sent his late tri- umphant foe reeling back Avith defeat. Like a wrestler, almost overcome in a struggle, and whom his antagonist thinks about to succumb, but who, rallying all his strength for a last effort, suddenly throws his astonished opponent, so, Washington, defeated and pros- trated, all at once started to his feet, and with one gigantic and desperate strain, hurled his enemy to the ground, stunned, bleeding, and utterly discomfited. The English, after the retreat of Washington across the Delaware, had distributed themselves in cantonments on the New Jersey side, occupying Trenton, Princeton, Burlington, Mount Holly, and vari- ous other posts. Flushed with victory, and fancying their enemy completely disheartened, they gave themselves up to ease and care- lessness. The watchful eye of Washington saw the inviting oppor- tunity to strike a blow. He knew that, without some speedy and JO THE WAR OP IXDEPEXDENCE. brilliant success on his part, the cause of America was lost. It wa§ better to hazard all on one die, than to lose the present precious opportunity which might never return. Accordingly, he resolved to re-cross the river and surprise the enemy, if possible, at one or more of his posts. The night of the 25th of December, was chosen for the purpose, as on that festival day the foe, little dreaming an enemy BATTLE OF TRENTON. was near, Avould probably give himself up to license and merriment. On that night, therefore, Washington crossed the Delaware at McConkey's Ferry, nine miles above Trenton. General Cadwalader was to have etfected a landing opposite Bristol, and General Irvine was to have transported his troops at Trenton Ferry ; but both failed in consequence of the river being full of driving ice : nor did Washington himself effect his crossing until four o'clock, and after incredible efforts. Once on the Jersey shore, however, he lost no time. Dividing his troops into two divisions, he sent one along the river road, while the other, accompanied by himself, took the upper or Pennington route. The night was bitterly cold, and the snow fell fast ; but the troops, animated by the same hope as their leader, pressed eagerly forward. The light was just breaking when, at eight o'clock in the morning, they drove in the outposts of the Hessians. The enemy, suddenly aroused from their beds or from the taverns where they had spent the night in drinking, seized their arms, rushed out, and made a show of resistance, their com- mander, Col. Rahl, gallantly leading them, until he fell mortally THE BATTLE OF TRENTON. 71 wounded. The Hessians now fled rapidly down tlie village. At this juncture, the other detachment of the Americans, which, follow- ing the river road, had entered the town at its lower extremity, was heard firing through the tempest, and the panic-struck Hessians, now enclosed between two forces, were speedily compelled to lay down their arms. Only a few cavalry of the enemy escaped. One thousand prisoners were taken, besides as many stand of arms, and six field pieces. Had the detachments of Cadwalader and Irvine been able to cross as projected, the twenty-five hundred of the enemy at Bordentown, Mount Holly, and the White Horse, would likewise have been captured, and the whole British force in that section of New Jersey prostrated at a blow. , As it was, this bold incursion struck terror to the heart of the English army. Cornwallis, Avho had gone to New York in order to embark for England, retraced his steps, and once more assumed command of the forces near the Delaware. His first movement was to withdraw all his troops from the more exposed posts, and concentrate them at Princeton and towards New Brims- wick. Thus the English army stood in attitude of defence like a boxer just recovered from a staggering blow. BOOK III. TO THE ALLIANCE WITH FRANCE. HE late disasters to the American cause had resulted principally from the want of a proper organization of the army. Had Congress listened to the remon- strances of Washington, and, taking advantage of the popular enthusiasm after the battle of Bunker Hill, enlisted recruits for the war, a force of thirty thousand men could easily have been procured, not liable to be dis- solved by reverses, or by the abatement of the momentary excite- ment. The army would have been composed of disciplined and veteran soldiers, who could have been relied on in every emergency : whereas now it was made up chiefly of six or twelve months militia, with whom a general could not venture on any delicate manoeuvre in the crisis of battle. All the disasters following the con 10 G ■ 73 74 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. test on Long Island may be traced to the neglect of this advice of Washington. It was in the very darkest hour of the Revolution, just before the surprise at Trenton, that Congress awoke to a sense of its mistake, and endeavored to redeem the cause by appointing Washington dictator for six months, giving him power to remove all officers beneath the rank of brigadier. Meantime to prove that submission was still far from its thoughts, it instructed the commissioners in Europe, Dr. Franklin and Silas Deane, to renew their protestations at the courts of France and Spain, and to assure those powers that the colonies, notwithstanding their late defeats, would continue the war at all hazards. The commissioners were also instructed to en- deavor to draw his most Christian Majesty into the war by the most liberal promises. Half the island and fisheries of New Found- land were offered as a bribe, and afterwards, all the possessions in the West Indies that might be conquered during the contest. Agents were also sent with representations to the courts of Berlin, Tuscany and Vienna. The choice of Dr. Franklin as one of the deputies abroad was a happy thought : his reputation for science, his philoso- phic character, his simple mode of life, and his venerable age made him the fashion in Paris ; and assisted, not a little, in bringing about the subsequent treaty of amity with the Court of France. Meantime Washington resolved to follow up the surprise at Tren- ton with another blow. He had, on the evening of the victory, retired across the Delaware. His prisoners, the next day, were marched ostentatiously through Philadelphia, in order to raise the drooping spirits of the citizens. Having done this^ he re-crossed, in the course of a few days, to Trenton, intending to act in the offen- sive. The British, in the interval, had concentrated at Princeton ; but Cornwallis, receiving intelligence of Washington's return to New Jersey moved on Trenton, where he arrived on the morning of the 2nd of January, 1777, leaving his rear guard at Maidenhead, a vil- lage half way between Princeton and Trenton. Washington, finding Cornwallis in such force, retired across the Assunpink creek, which skirts the southern extremity of tlie town of Trenton, having first se- cured the bridge. The British, on this, attempted to pass the stream, but were thrice repulsed. A cannonade, on both sides, was kept up until dark, when a council was called in the American camp. The peril of the little army was imminent. To wait the event of the next day's battle, against the overwhelming force of Cornwallis, was to ensure destruction : to retire across the Delaware, encumbered v.'ith floating ice, in face ,of a wary foe, was equally perilous. In BATTLE OF PRINCETON. 7o this emergency, the bold design was adopted of falling on the enemy's line of communications, and thus carrying the war into the very heart of New Jersey. Accordingly, in the night, the regular fires being kept up, and sentinels posted, the army of Washington silently withdrew from the Assunpink, and taking a circuitous route to avoid Maidenhead, before morning was far on its way to Princeton. Here it fell in with two British regiments, when a sharp action ensued. The enemy fought with desperate resolution, thinking themselves sur- rounded, with no hope of escape. At last, the American militia wavered. Washington, on this, seizing a standard, galloped in front of his men, exposing his person to the fire of both armies. The example was electric. The retreating militia, opportunely succored by the veterans of Trenton, now returned to the charge, and the day was won. In this affair, General Mercer was mortally wounded. About one hundred of the enemy were slain, and three hundred taken prisoners. The Americans lost in all one hundred. A part of one of the British regiments escaped to Maidenhead ; the other retired to New Brunswick. Cornwallis, at early dawn, was awakened by the noise of firing in the direction of Princeton. Discovering that the enemy was no longer in his front, he instantly divined the stratagem of Washington, and ordered his troops to march with all haste in pursuit, alarmed for his communications. He used such expedition, that he arrived at Princeton almost as soon as the American rear-guard. Washing- ton now found himself again in imminent peril. Unable to compete with the forces of Cornwallis, no resource was left but a hasty retreat. Instead of retracing his steps, however, he pushed on to the Raritan. Cornwallis followed. Washington, finding his troops too few and feeble to maintain the war at present, retired to the hilly country of upper New Jersey, and took post at Morristown. On this, Cornwallis abandoned the pursuit and returned to New Bruns- wick, where he found his subordinate. General Matthews, removing in terror the baggage and stores. In a few days, Washington, receiving some slight accessions of strength, descended into the open country, where he so judiciously manceuvred as, in a little time, to command the whole coast in front of Staten Island. Thus, the British army, after having overrun all New Jersey, now found itself, in face of an inferior foe, restricted to the two posts of New Bruns- wick and Amboy, besides being cut off from all communication with New York, except by sea. This brilliant winter campaign changed the whole aspect of the 73 THE WAR OF INPEPENDENCE. contest. The patriots recovered their hopes and their enthusiasm: the indifferent and timorous came out openly on the side of the coim- LOKD CORNWALLIS. try: and the loyalists, lately so elated, began to despond. Another fact added to the revulsion in popular feeling. The Hessians had signalized their supremacy in New Jersey by the greatest excesses, so that even many of the loyal inhabitants had become exasperated. From this period to the end of the conflict the people of New Jersey, at first comparatively lukewarm in the cause, were distinguished as the most earnest and decided supporters of the war. The epoch of the battle of Trenton marked the turning point of the contest. The fortunes of the colonists had then reached their lowest ebb. After that period, though the cause fluctuated continually, there was, on the whole, a perceptible gain. The waves flowed and retreated ; but the tide steadily advanced. WASHINGTON AT MIDDLEBROOK. 77 The spring of 1777, opened with favorable omens to the Ameri- cans ; for, as the mild weather advanced, recruits began to flock to Washington's camp. Howe, meantime, diverted his troops by attacking Peekskill, on the Hudson, and Danbury, in Connecticut, for the purpose of destroying stores : in both of these expeditions, he was comparatively successful. The Americans retorted by a descent on Sagg Harbor, where they burned a dozen British ships and took many prisoners. As yet the American General had not been able to penetrate the plans of his opponent for the ensuing campaign. One opinion was, that the British leader intended renewing his designs on Philadelphia : another, and to this Washington leaned, that he projected an ascent of the Hudson, to form a jmiction with Burgoyne, who was about to lead the contemplated expe- dition from Canada. This latter was certainly the true policy. By seizing the Hudson, and uniting with Burgoyne at Albany, (ir above that place, Howe would have cut off the middle and southern states from New England ; and the prospect of ultimate success for the Americans, would in consequence have been greatly decreased. To be ready, however, for either movement on the part of Howe, Washington stationed a portion of his troops at Peekskill, posting the remainder in New Jersey. In this maimer, if Howe moved on Philadelphia, he would find in front the forces of New Jersey, while those at Peekskill would descend and harass his right tianl<: : if, on the other hand, he took the direction of Albany, the troops at Peekskill would be in front, and those of New Jersey on the dank. As a further resource, a camp for recruits was formed at Philadelphia, which, in an emergency, might furnish resources. Having made these admirable dispositions, Washington waited for Howe to take the initiative. The British General had been recommended by the ministry to ascend the Hudson and form a junction with Burgoyne : but Howe, exercising his discretion, determined to advance on Philadelphia instead. He thought it certain that Washington would hazard a battle, or retire ; in either case he felt sure of his prey. The capture of the capital, he hoped, would end the war, of which he would then reap all the renown. Accordingly he made demonstrations of marching on the Delaware. Washington, however, contrary to Howe's expectation, neither descended into the plains to give battle, nor hurried to the defence of Philadelphia ; but maintaining his old position on the heights of Middlebrook, prepared to cut off Howe's communications. The British General accordingly retraced his steps, and began a series of manoBuvres to draw Washington from his G* 78 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. position. Once he had nearly succeeded. Having made a pretence of retiring from Amboy to Staten Island, Washington fancied he was really about to retreat, and descended to assail him. Instantly a detachment imder Cornwallis was sent to seize the late position of the Americans; but Washington, timely informed of his error, hastened to retrace his steps, and reached his old camp in safety. Thus foiled, Howe resolved to abandon the idea of crossing New Jersey, and embarking his troops, to reach Philadelphia by sea. But, hoping to deceive Washington as to his real intentions, he feigned an invasion up the Hudson. Intelligence had just been received of the advance of Burgoyne to Ticonderoga, and speedily after of the fall of that place : so that, for a while, Washington gave credit to the supposed co-operation. In a few days, however, his sagacious mind penetrated the cheat ; when, dividing his array into several corps, he prepared to march at a moment's warning on the Delaware. He sent Congress word of the contemplated attack ; exhorted the proper authorities of Pennsylvania, Delaware and New Jersey to collect militia near the threatened points ; and ordered watches to be kept at the capes of Delaware, to give early intimation of the appearance of the English fleet. On the 23rd of July the royal squadron and transports sailed from Sandy Hook. Washington, however, lest he should yet be made the victim of a stratagem, did not abandon his position in East Jersey. For a time, too, the news received of the enemy's fleet was extremely conflicting. At first the ships were seen near the capes of Delaware, steering eastward : this alarmed Washington for the banks of the Hudson. Then they appeared again at the entrance of Delaware bay, but immediately vanished to the south : this inspired fears lest they should have gone to the Carolinas. At last intelligence was obtained of the arrival of the squadron in the Chesapeake : this set- tled all doubts ; and hastily collecting his various corps, Washington advanced by quick marches to oppose the enemy at his landing. A month, however, had been wasted in these manoeuvres ; and it was the last of August before the English disembarked, which they did at the head of Elk river, in Maryland. The whole contment now stood gazing in silent awe as the two armies approached each other. A battle was inevitable. The destiny of America might hang on the result. While these events were transacting, two incidents happened in other quarters, Avhich we must pause to relate. General Sullivan, at the head of fifteen hundred American troops, made an attack on Staten Island ; and though at first successful, was finally repulsed BATTLE OF BRANDYWIXE. 79 with heavy loss. The other occurrence was the capture of Major General Prevost, commandmg the seven battahons of En^Hsh troops which occupied Rhode Island. This officer slept at a farm- house not far from Narragansett Bay. At the dead of night he was taken out of his bed, by Lieut. Col. Barton, at the head of forty men, and being carried to the whale-boats in which the party descended, was securely carried off. This bold exploit filled the country with applause, particularly as it afforded the Americans an officer of equal rank to exchange for General Lee. About the same period, the Marquis La Fayette arrived at Phila- delphia. He came to join the American cause as a volunteer. "Very rich, of high rank, and supposed to have influence at the Court of Versailles, his appearance was hailed as an omen of an approach- ing alliance with France. He became a favorite with Washington, who saw in his enthusiasm, in his refusal to accept pay, and in the fact that he had torn himself from the arms of a young and lovely wife, powerful reasons for regard and affection. Nor to the close of life, was there any diminution of the mutual love and friendship of the two heroes. Wlien Washington arrived in the vicinity of the Chesapeake, he discovered that the British had already effected a landing. After some manoeuvres, he took post behind the Brandywine, at a spot called Chad's Ford, and prepared to dispute the passage of the enemy ; Congress and the public loudly demanding a battle to save Philadelphia. On the 1 1th of September the British advanced to the attack. The country in the vicinity of Chad's is imdulating, and about six miles above the ford, the river divides into two forks. Howe resolved to leave Knyphausen with a portion of the army to make a feint of assailing the Americans in front, at the ford ; while, with a much stronger body, he and Cornwallis gained the rear of Wash- ington by crossing the Brandywine higher up. The stratagem was eminently successful. The British passed the Brandywine above the forks, without the knowledge of the Americans ; the videttes of the latter not being pushed so far, and the country people being too disaffected to give warning. Meantime, Knyphausen began to make repeated feints to attempt the passage at Chad's Ford. He first advanced his marksmen across the river, but the Americans forcing them back, he opened a furious cannonade, and made dispositions as if about to attack with all his troops. In this mamier the morning passed. Washington was preparing to cross the river, and assail Knyphausen, when, about noon, he received intelligence that Corn- wallis had crossed the Brandywine, and was coming down in liis 80 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. rear. Already, in fact, long columns of dust, winding in serpentine course among the distant hills, announced his route. The moment was critical. Washington, if he disregarded the enemy in his rear, might precipitate himself on Knyphausen in front ; but, by such a movement, he would abandon the right bank of the Brandywine to Cornwallis, and throw open the route to Philadel- phia. No resource, therefore, was left but to turn and face the Marquis. Accordingly Washington wheeled the brigades of Sullivan, Stephens and Stirling to oppose Cornwallis, who was said to be approaching Birmingham meeting-house, two miles in the rear. Then, leaving Wayne with a strong corps at Chad's Ford, he him- self, with two divisions, accompanied by General Greene, took a position half way between Chad's Ford and the meeting-house, to be ready to assist either wing as occasion might require. Having done this, he waited anxiously for the result. 5^^^^. .V. ^^^^'"^^t;r:o^^»^vr ., «=»5-~5j<^\NN ■>»f3^ ^- vN^rWi ^f^^--^ ' BIUMIXOIIAM MEUTIXn-ItOUSE When Sullivan, with his three divisions, reached Birmingham meeting-house, he found Cornwallis drawn up on the declivity of a BATTLE OF BRANDY WINE, 81 lofty eminence opposite, the scarlet uniforms of his troops relieving the deep green of the hill-side, on which they swarmed, as a specta- tor has written, like bees. The British army had just fmished its noontide meal, and as Sullivan's corps came in sight, the blare of trumpets sounded along the line, and the whole of that splendid army put itself into motion. The distance from the summit of the hill on which the meeting-house stands, to the top of the neighbor- ing elevation, following the descent into the valley, and the opposite rise, is nearly a mile ; so that some time necessarily elapsed before the British troops came within range. During this period the spectacle they presented, as they slowly descended one hill and began to ascend the other, was truly magnificetit. They moved in a solid mass, forming a compact and extended front, along which ran the glitter of their polished arms, and over which their banners floated lazily in the sultry breeze. The action began on the American right, and soon extended along the whole line. Both wings speedily gave way, the disorder beginning on the right. Sullivan's own divi- sion breaking, he hurried, flushed and excited, to animate the centre. With this the contest was longer and fiercer. Occupying the low stone wall of the grave-yard which crowns Birmingham hill, the Americans poured in a steady fire on the advancing foe ; but fresh troops dashing up the hill, and the victorious British hastening from the rout of the other divisions, to turn their flank, they were forced to retreat. The English now poured densely over the brow of the hill. The Ameri- cans fled through an orchard in their rear, where the carnage was dreadful. The retreat might have become a rout, but for the arrival of Greene, who opening his columns to suffer the fugitives to pass, closed up immediately after, and continued to face the foe. In the meantime Knyphausen, finding the enemy in his front weakened, forded the river and advanced to attack Wayne. After a brave resistance the latter fell back, leaving his artillery in the hands of the enemy. In his retreat he passed in the rear of Greene, who, posted in a defile between two woods, ploughed the enemy's advancing columns with artillery, and was the last to retire. The army fell back to Chester, where, for a whole day, fugitives con- tinued arriving, many having escaped by lanes and circuitous ways. The British spent the night on the battle-field. The loss of the Americans was over a thousand ; that of their opponents less than five hundred. In this conflict the Virginians and Pennsylvanians fought with particular intrepidity ; and Count Pulaski, a Pole, at the head of the light-horse, charged in the most gallant manner. 11 82 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. Here La Fayette saw his firs^engagement, and received a wound in his leg. Tlie defeat may be attributed to ignorance of the move- ments of CornwaUis, arising chiefly from the want of a suflicient number of well mounted videttes. The news of this disaster was received with various emotions in Philadelphia. The disaffected openly rejoiced : the patriots were struck with consternation. Congress, however, remained firm. That body voted reinforcements to Washington, who, after a few days repose for his troops, took the field again to seek another encounter with the enemy. The two armies came in sight of each other on the 16th, on the Lancaster road, a few miles from Philadelphia ; but a heavy rain beginning to fall, the American muskets were rendered useless and much of their ammunition was spoiled. Washington was compelled, by this accident, to retreat to Yellow Springs, and thence to Warwick Furnace, on French creek. He sent Wayne, however, to harass the march of Howe. But a detachment of British troops, led by General Grey, surprised this General in the night, and he only escaped with the loss of one hundred and fifty men. This is the affair usually known as the Paoli massacre. Howe now advanced on Philadelphia, by the way of Germantown, Congress adjourning on his approach to the town of York in Pennsylvania ; and on the 26th of September, Lord CornwaUis, with the van of the British army, marched into the capital, to the great joy of the disaf- fected. The rest of the English force, however, remained encamped at Germantown, six miles from the city. Washington took post at Skippack creek, about fourteen miles distant. The first object of Howe, on finding himself in possession of Phi- ladelphia, was to subdue the forts commanding the Delaware below that city, and to remove the obstructions with which the Americans had filled the river. The forces detached for this purpose necessarily weakened the army at Germantown. Aware of this, Washington resolved to attempt surprising it. The village of Germantown is built on a single street, occupying both sides of the road for about two miles. The English army lay very nearly in the centre of the town, being encamped behind a lane that crosses the street at right angles in the vicinity of the market place. About a mile from this spot, and at the head of the village, is a large stone house known as Chew's mansion. More than a mile higher up is Mount Airy, where the English had a picket guard. It was about dawn on the morning of the 4th of October when Washington drove in this picket, and pushing on, dashed for the centre of the town. Sullivan, com- manding the right wing, marched through the fields to the right of BATTLE OF GERMANTOWIf. 83 the village street; Wayne, leading another division, passed to the left ; and Greene, with a strong corps, making a circuit on the left of Wayne, followed a road which entered the town just below the market place. The morning was foggy, so that the soldiers could see but a few paces before them. At first this favored the attack ; and the British fell back hurriedly and in affright. Sullivan, advancing with headlong speed, soon reached the centre of the town. Here all was in comparative confusion on the part of the enerny. The ]5ritisli troops, hastily aroused, were forming in the lane in front of their encampment, Howe, imagining himself surrounded, was gallopping bewildered to the point of danger: while the wildest rumors circu- lated among the soldiers, and even struck dismay to the hearts of their officers. Victory seemed in Sullivan's grasp. Suddenly a sharp firing was heard in his rear, when a voice among his soldiers exclaimed, that the British had cut them off; and at the same moment troops were seen advancing through the fog in front, their numbers magnified by the obscurity. A panic instantly ensued. Cries of alarm were heard on all sides. In vain Sullivan, riding among the men, assured them that the troops in front were a part of Greene's division : in vain couriers arrived to say that the firing behind arose from only a small party of the English who had throwr; themselves into Chew's house : in vain the officers, ready to break their swords in mortification and rage, declared to the soldiers that they were running away from victory. Nothing could allay the panic. The men broke and tied. The British, by this time par- tially recovering from their alarm, seized the favorable moment and advanced with loud huzzas. The retreat became a rout. The enemy kept up a hot pursuit, and the American army was only saved by the timely thought of General Wayne, who, throwing up a hasty battery at White Marsh church, arrested the chase after it had con- tinued seven miles. In this battle the loss of the Americans was about nine hundred ; that of the British six hundred. Although resulting in defeat, it had some of the advantages of a victory; for it induced Howe to withdraw most of his forces into Philadelphia. Washington retired to his old station at Skippack. Meantime Howe proceeded to the removal of the obstructions in the river Delaware, and to the reduction of the two forts which the Americans had erected immediately below Philadelphia. One of these. Fort Mifflin, was situated on the left bank of the Delaware at the confluence of the Schuylkill with the latter river : the other, Fort Mercer, occupied a bold bluff" on the opposite shore, called Red Bank. On the 22nd of October the latter was assailed, by a com- 84 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. BATTLE OF RED BANK. bined attack from land and water. Count Donop, with twelve hun- dred men, advanced to storm the fort, which was defended by only five hundred troops ; but was repulsed with a loss of four hundred, himself being mortally wounded. The Americans lost but thirty -two. The attack from the water was equally disastrous to the enemy, he losing in addition two of his frigates. The attempt to reduce Fort Mifflin was more successful, though not until after nearly a month's delay. On the 16th of November, the fort being no longer tenable, its little garrison of three hundred went over to Red Bank. This post, also, was soon after abandoned. Washington, receiving some reinforcements, left Skippack and took up a position at White Marsh, fourteen miles nearer Philadel- phia. His army was now fourteen thousand strong : and that of Howe was about the same number. But the latter, in discipline, equipments and materal, was infinitely superior. The two armies watched each other for some time, but Washington was not willing to risk an engagement on equal terms ; and Howe, with his usual prudence, shrunk from assailing the American General in his strong position. Finally Washington went into winter quarters, selecting for the purpose a spot called Valley Forge, a wide ravine on elevated ground, about sixteen miles from Philadelphia. The privations which he and his little army suffered there we shall describe here- FALL OF TICONDEROGA. 85 after. In the meantime, after premising that Howe had gained little by the campaign except a change of quarters from New York to Philadelphia, let us turn to the north, where the most signal success had just crowned the American arms, and where the inhabitants, lately overcome by despair, were now dizzy with exultation. It had been a favorite scheme with the British ministry, from the beginning of the war, to invade the colonies from Canada, and by forming a line of posts along the Hudson, to cut off New England from the middle and southern provinces. It was in the New En- gland states that the soul and strength of the rebellion was supposed to be : these colonies once overrun, the subjugation of the remain- ing, it was considered, would be easy. Accordingly, at the begin- ning of the year 1777, preparations were made for this invasion. A force of seven thousand men was raised, which General Burgoyne was selected to command. He was regarded as an officer of ability, having served with distinction in the continental wars : and he was not sparing of promises. The ministry were generous to a fault in supplying him with everything he asked. The plan of the cam- paign was arranged in London. Burgoyne, with seven thousand men, and the most splendid train of artillery ever seen in America, was to advance on Albany by way of Lake Champlain : while Colonel St. Leger, with two hundred regulars, a regiment of loyal- ists, and a large force of Indians was to penetrate to the same place by the route of lake Ontario and the Mohawk. As we have before intimated, General Howe was recommended to form a junction at the same place with Burgoyne and St. Leger ; but a discretionary power being left him, he exercised it, as we have seen, by attacking Philadelphia. The news of this contemplated invasion spread terror and alarm throughout all the eastern states, but especially on the frontiers, and in the fertile valleys of New York. General Schuyler, having the chief command in the northern department, exerted himself promptly and vigorously in this emergency ; but recruits came in slowly, and not in sufficient numbers for the crisis. His head quarters were fixed at Stillwater, where he labored to prepare means of resistance ; while to General St. Clair was deputed the command of Fort Ticon- deroga, where the first onset of the enemy was expected. On the 2nd of July, Burgoyne, having ascended lake Champlain, made his appearance before this fortress, which he proceeded to invest, seizing and erecting batteries on Sugar Hill, an eminence overlooking the works. St. Clair was not prepared for the appearance of so large a force, nor had he supposed the height in question could be occupied ; 86 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. accordingly he called a council of war, in which it was resolved that the fort was no longer tenable, and that it should be evacuated. On the night of the 5th, the garrison, taking with them provisions for eight days, stealthily abandoned the place •, but a house accidentally taking fire, when the rear guard was about to leave, lit up the land- scape with the glare of day, and revealed the flight of the Americans. Instantly the British army was aroused, and a fierce pursuit began. At Skeensborough the English gun-boats overtook the American galleys and batteaux ; the former were captured ; but most of the latter achieved their escape. The van of the enemy came up with the American rear on the morning of the 7th, when a bloody con- flict began, maintained on the one side with the obstinacy of des- pair, on the other with the eagerness of victory. At last, the British being reinforced, the Americans gave way. In this sanguinary contest the latter lost about four hundred, killed and prisoners, with five hundred wounded, of whom many afterwards perished mise- rably in the woods for want of succor. The British lost less than two hundred. Of a thousand men, who composed his corps, War- ner reached the main army some days after with but ninety. St. Clair, with the body of the army, thus saved by tbe devotion of his rear-guard, after seven days of toil and exposure in the wilderness, reached Fort Edward, on the Hudson. Schuyler was already at this latter place, and busied himself im- mediately in preparations to retard the victorious enemy. He ordered trenches to be cut, the bridges to be broken down, and the defiles where Burgoyne would have to pass, to be obstructed by trees felled across them and interlaced. The cattle in the neighbor- hood were driven ofl". To add to the desolation the inhabitants deserted their homes, flying in afl'right before the approach of the dreaded foe, so that for whole days a traveller, in crossing from Ticonderoga to the Hudson, would meet nothing but ruined clear- ings, smoking crops, and a wilderness rendered more inhospitable by the destroying hand of man. The intelligence of tlie fall of Ticonderoga was heard with a thrill of horror by the country at large. In the popular mind the strength of St. Clair's garrison had been overrated, while of that of Burgoyne's army, too slight an estimate had been formed. The suspicion of treachery was at first breathed against the unfortunate commander ; and even Schuyler came in for his share of oppro- brium. At this day the charges of cowardice and venality against St. Clair are no longer entertained : but he is regarded as an incompe- tent commander, who either should have abandoned Ticonderoga FALL OF TICONBEROGA. 87 in time, or have held it out manfully. To Schuyler no censure can properly apply. He exerted himself vigorously in every emergency, and it was the measures he took which in fact led to the subsequent GENEKAX BUEGOYNE. capture of Burgoyne. But unfortunately for him, he was unpopular with the New England states, and their clamors ultimately led to his removal ; and, that, too, at a crisis when the precautions he had taken to arrest the foe were on the point of being crowned with success. Another reaped where he had sown ; and, for a while, Gates wore the laurel that of right belonged to Schuyler. But pos- terity has revoked the sentence of his contemporaries, by restoring to the latter General the renown which was fairly earned by his skill, his labors, and his sacrifices. The numerous Indians accompanying Burgoyne's army increased the terror of the inhabitants. The massacre at Fort Henry, in the French war, was still remembered ; and the murder of Miss McCrea, which now occurred, seemed to forebode a repetition of such scenes. This unfortunate lady was killed in a quarrel between two savages ; but rumor exaggerated the wantonness of this act, and thus the public mind was filled with horror and panic. The general consternation did not, however, subdue the spirit of Congress or paralyze the energies of Washington. The former 88 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. ' having its eye ever on the hope of an aUiance with France, in- structed its agents abroad to lay the blame on the imbecility and misconduct of St. Clair, and to assure the Court of Versailles that the Americans, so far from being discouraged, only waited an occasion to avenge their defeats. Washington exerted all his influence to expedite succors to Schuyler. General Lincoln, a man of great influence in New England, was despatched thither to encourage the militia to enlist ; General Arnold and Colonel Morgan, both cele- brated for headlong valor, were sent to join Schuyler. In England the news of the fall of Ticonderoga was received with unbounded expressions of delight. Those who had opposed the war were silenced by the popular outcry; while the ministry were hailed as the asserters of the public honor. Success lent a temporary halo to the cause of oppression, and, in the exultation of the moment, the complete subjugation of America was regarded as now at hand. Yet how strange are the ordinations of fate ! At the very moment when, in England, these extravagant expectations were being indulged, the whole face of affairs in America had become suddenly changed : Burgoyne, so late the arrogant victor, was now a sup- pliant captive ; and the cause of Great Britain, but two short months before at the zenith of success, was now setting in darkness, and tempest, and despair. Although Ticonderoga fell on the 6th of July, it was the 30th of the same month before Burgoyne advanced to the Hudson. This delay was owing to the obstructions in the roads, and to his being compelled to take all his provisions with him. He subsequently remained at Fort Edward, from which the Americans had retired on his approach, until the 15th of August, engaged in bringing sup- plies from Ticonderoga. But his success was inconsiderable- in this undertaking. The horses he expected from Canada had not arrived ; he could with difficulty procure the comparatively small number of fifty pair of oxen; and, to add to his embarrassments, heavy and continual rains wore down the soldiers and rendered the roads im- passable. On the 15th, notwithstanding all his exertions, there were but four days' provisions in camp. He now resolved to send out a detachment to Bennington in New Hampshire, where he learned there was a depot of provisions belonging to the Americans. Colo- nel Baum was despatched accordingly on this service with a force of about six hundred men. Meantime, however, General Stark, of the New Hampshire militia, hearing of Baum's approach, marched with two thousand men, hastily collected, to meet the British. Baum, on learning the approach of Stark, halted before he reached THE SEIGE OF FORT SCHUYLER RAISED. &9 Bennington and sent back to camp for reinforcements. Colonel Breyman, with five hundred men, was accordingly hurried off to his assistance. Before the arrival of the latter, however. Stark had stormed Baum in his entrenchments, and after a desperate conflict, in which Baum fell mortally wounded, had chased the enemy from the field. The militia dispersed for plunder, when Breyman came up and renewed the fight. Stark fortunately was reinforced, and the conflict raged until dark, when Breyman abandoned his baggage and artillery; and fled with the remnant of his force to the British camp. In this engagement the enemy lost about seven hundred ; the Americans but one hundred. Four brass field pieces, a thou- sand stand of arms, and nine hundred swords fell into the hands of Stark, a supply very opportune at the crisis, and which furnished many of the weapons subsequently used at Saratoga with such eflect against the foe. While Burgoyne had been thus advancing into the heart of New York, St. Leger, with the other division of the royal army, had marched from lake Ontario to the Mohawk, where, on the 3rd of August he laid seige to fort Schuyler with an army of sixteen hmi- dred men, composed of British, Canadians, Tories, and Indians. Col. Gansevort, who, with six hundred men occupied the post, on being summoned to surrender, replied, with the heroism of an ancient Ro- man, that he would defend it to the last. Meantime Gen. Herkimer, on the approach of the British, hastened to raise the militia of the county of Tryon and fly to the succor of Gansevort ; but marching without sufficient circumspection, he fell into an ambuscade of Bri- tish and savages, and was defeated, with the loss of his own life and of four hundred of his men. The victory of the Indians was accom- panied by all the horrors of their mode of warfare : they slaughtered the suppliant and the resisting alike, and after the battle even but- chered the prisoners taken by their English allies. The tradition of that terrible day still survives in the valley of the Mohawk, and the listener shudders as he hears the tale. The whole of Herkimer's, force would have fallen but for a diversion in his favor by the garrison, a party of whom made a bold sortie on the British camp, which they rifled, and then returned to the fort. The British, however, avenged themselves by resuming the siege with greater vigor than before. In this emergency Colonel Willet left the fort at dead of night, passed stealthily through the enemy's camp, and traversing pathless woods and unexplored morasses for the space of fifty miles, reached the confines of civili- zation, and raised the country to the relief of the leagured place. In 12 H* 90 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. this emergency Arnold was despatched to Fort Schuyler. On his approach the Indians began to be alarmed, and their terror being heightened by a report that Schuyler had totally defeated Burgoyne, they resolved to abandon St. Leger, and return to their own country. In vain the British commander besought them to stay : they were immoveable ; and in consequence, on the 22nd of August, St. Leger found himself forced to raise the siege. He retired with great precipitancy, leaving his tents, artillery and baggage in the hands of the garrison. Arnold, having succeeded in his purpose, returned to Camp ; while St. Leger retired in confusion to Montreal, whence he soon set forth to Ticonderoga to unite himself with Burgoyne. Thus one part of this well digested plan of invasion had already failed : a combination of circumstances was insidiously preparing the ruin of the other. Prominent among these was the want of provisions for Burgoyne's army, to which we have already alluded. This difficulty increased, instead of diminishing, as days and weeks progressed. The failure of his effort to relieve himself by the cap- ture of the stores at Bennington, threw a momentarily increasing cloud of despondency around his hopes. He began, for the first time, to appreciate the difficulty of his enterprise. Instead of finding himself among a friendly, or even indifferent population, he disco- vered that every step he took only led him further into the heart of a hostile community, from which he could draw neither encourage- ment nor sustenance, and where every man he met was irreconci- lably his foe. In such a country the capture of its forts was of little real benefit to the victor. He conquered only what he held. Though the country people every where fled before him, yet, as fast as he advanced they closed behind his track, like a returning tide. Thus hemmed in, with an armed enemy in front, and a hostile population gathering in his rear, Burgoyne knew scarcely which way to turn : his stout heart failed, his boastful confidence began to desert him, and foreboding shadows of the future already haunted his sleep, and deprived him, during the day, of his habitual cheerfulness. To add to the peril of his situation, the communications with his rear were now threatened. General Lincoln, having received a force of two thousand militia, instead of advancing directly to the succor of the American army, conceived the more effective plan of attack- ing Fort Ticonderoga and the other posts in Burgoyne's rear. His enterprise was successful in every thing except the capture of the two fortresses of Independence and Ticonderoga. Mount Defiance, Mount Hope, two hundred batteaux, several gun boats, an armed BURGOYNE ENCAMPS ON THE HUDSON. 91 BL'RGOV.XE'S ENCAMPMENT ON TUE BANKS OF THE HVDSON. sloop, and two hundred and ninety prisoners were the fruits of this happy thought. Besides this, one hundred American prisoners were set at hberty. In this manner mesh after mesh of the net destined to enclose Burgoyne, was drawn around the unhappy English General. At last he resolved to cross the Hudson and bring his enemy to battle, when, in case of a victory, the road to Albany would lie open, and supplies be more easy to be obtained. We camiot avoid regard- ing this as a military blunder. By advancing along the eastern shore of the Hudson, Burgoyne would have kept that river between him and the Americans, or, in case they attempted to cross it, he could have utterly routed them in the endeavor. By crossing to the western bank he lost these advantages. But his fate was upon him. An inevitable destiny led him forward. Accordingly, towards the middle of September, he threw a bridge of boats over the Hud- son, and passing his army across, encamped on the heights of Sara- toga, the Americans being at Stillwater, about three miles below. 92 THE WAR OF INDEPEXDENCE. In the approaching trial of strength between the two armies, the Americans were as confident as the British were dispirited : in this respect the two sides had changed situations since the battle of Bennington. Every day saw new accessions of strength to the Americans, for the harvest being ended, the mihtia began to pour into camp : and to add to the popular enthusiasm. General Gates had just been appointed to succeed General Schuyler, and his name alone, especially with the New England soldiers, was considered a sure presage of success. Gates arrived in camp on the 21st of August. Though Schuyler felt keenly his own removal, and com- plained of it eloquently in his letters to Washington, he still had too much patriotism to suffer it to cool his ardor, but nobly seconded his more fortunate rival with all his powers. On the 19th of September, Burgoyne advanced to offer battle to the Americans. His right wing, commanded by himself, rested on the high grounds that rise from the river ; the left wing, under Generals Phillips and Reidesel, occupied the great road and meadows by the river side. The American army drew up in the same order from the river to the hills. Gates taking command of the right, and giving the left to Arnold. Between the two armies, and in front of the British right, Burgoyne had thrown forward his Indians. Colonel Morgan, with the American light horse, supported by the American light infantry, charged the savages, who fell back, but being supported, they rallied, and with hideous yells drove Morgan back to his original position. Burgoyne now extended his right wing, in order to overlap Arnold, and reach that General's flank and rear. But by one of those coincidences which sometimes happen amid the turmoil and smoke of battle, Arnold, at this very moment was engaged in a like manoeuvre against Burgoyne. The intervening woods hid the hostile troops from sight, until they came suddenly on each other at a turn in the road. Surprise for a moment checked both parties, when, the charge sounded, and they rushed madly on each other. The Americans, after a desperate conflict gave ground. Arnold, finding the right flank of the enemy too strong for him, now made a rapid movement, and threw himself on the left flank of the same wing. His onset was terrible. The British line wavered before it. Encouraging his men with voice and example, he raged in their front, the hero of the day. His intention was to pierce the enemy's line, and cut off" the right wing from the rest of the British army. To prevent this, successive reinforcements were poured on the threatened point ; but in vain : Gates hurried up new regiments to back Arnold ; and the whole interest of the struggle was concen- BATTLE OF BEHMUS HEIGHTS. 93 trated in this one place, where victory seemed about to declare for the Americans. For four hours the contest raged with unexampled fury. At last, night put an end to the combat. The royalists slept on their arms on the field of battle ; their opponents fell back. Both parties claimed the victory, the English, for having kept possession of the scene of strife, the Americans, for having checked the advance of the foe. All the moral results of a victory pertained to the latter however, and to them, therefore, we must award it. The army of Gates lost three hundred and thirteen in killed and wounded ; that of Burgoyne, at least six hundred, some writers say a thousand. Immediately after this battle, the Indian allies of Burgoyne, becom- ing dissatisfied, abandoned him, and their example was followed by most of the Canadians and Tories. The day after the battle of Stillwater, the English General advanced, and took a position within cannon shot of Gates. Both armies now occupied themselves in fortifying their respective camps. On the 21st of September, two days after the battle, Burgoyne received a letter from General Clhiton, dated on the 10th, stating that he intended ascending the Hudscn, and attacking Fort Mont- gomery, but that he could do no more. Burgoyne had hoped that Clinton would advance to Albany, and could not conceal his despondency on receipt of this news. He instantly despatched emissaries to his brother General, with a full account of his difficul- ties, urging a speedy execution of the proposed diversion, and saying that he had provisions with which to hold out until the 12th of October. He waited until the 7th of October for a reply, but received none. Had prudence, indeed, controlled him, he would have retreated immediately after receiving Clinton's letter ; but hope lured him on, while he shrank from the disgrace of a retrograde movement. Thus was he hurried forward to his melancholy destiny. Not hearing from Clinton, Burgoyne resolved to attack the Ameri- can left, hoping to force a passage, which might be made available either for an advance or retreat, as circumstances should afterwards recommend. The battle that ensued is known in popular language as the battle of Behmus Heights. At the head of fifteen hundred men, led by himself in person, Burgoyne advanced to execute his movement ; but Gates instantly penetrating his design, despatched a strong corps to cut him oft' from the main army. The American detachment soon became engaged with the left of Burgoyne's, the contest extending along to the right. Gates now attempted to throw a body of troops into the enemy's rear, so as to prevent his 94 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. retreat to camp. Burgoyne perceiving this, sent his hght infantry to form a second line, and cover him as he fell back. He then began a retrograde movement. Arnold, with three regiments, instantly gave pursuit. A terrible trial of skill and strength now ensued : the English struggling to reach their entrenchments, the Americans to cut them ofi*. Arnold was never greater than on that day. Gal- lopping fiercely to and fro, between his own troops and those of the enemy, he stimulated them, by his voice, and by his heroic courage, to the highest pitch of enthusiasm. For a while, Burgoyne regarded the day as lost. General Frazer, his friend and counsellor, had fallen mortally wounded, while endeavoring to check the onset of Arnold. The entrenchments were still at some distance : the Americans threatened to reach them first. At last, Burgoyne abandoned his artillery, and leaving a frightful array of killed and wounded, shew- ing the path by which he had retreated, made a last, and successful efibrt to gain the desired entrenchments. But even here he was not safe. Arnold still thundered in pursuit. The American General, fired with the resistless fury and courage of another Achilles, came raging to the front of the lines, and without pause, and amid a tempest of grape drifting into his face, dashed up to the assault Everything yielded before him. He had almost carried the works by storm, when a shot struck him in the leg, and he was forced to retire from the field. His men, however, still possessed with the fury to which he had excited them, continued the attack. Night at last fell, and checked the sanguinary struggle. In another quarter the enemy was even more unfortunate. While Arnold had been driving the British in terror and haste before him, Colonel Brooks, with a corps of Americans, had turned the extreme right of Burgoyne 's encampment, and carried the works there by storm, notwithstanding a desperate resistance made by Colonel Brey- man, who occupied them with the German reserve. Breyman, himself, was mortally wounded. The tents, artillery, and baggage fell into the hands of the Americans, who established themselves in the entrenchment, and there spent the night. And as the guards went their rounds in their new possession, they saw, near at hand, the dark shadows of the English host, and eagerly longed for the dawn to renew the fray. But Burgoyne feared to tempt fortune again. He had suffered terribly, and lost immense stores. His troops were disheartened. His position was no longer tenable. Accordingly, in the night, he changed his ground to the heights in his rear. In this strong post Gates refused to attack him, for he now thought himself certain to BURGOYNE RETREATS TO SARATOGA. .95 reduce his enemy by starvation : he accordingly confined himself on the 8th to a distant cannonade, which the enemy warmly returned. It was during this fire, that General Lincoln was wounded in the leg. Several skirmishes took place in the course of the day. Towards evening, the British proceeded, with melancholy hearts, to the obse- quies of General Frazer. With slow steps and sad countenances, his late associates followed him to the grave: their regret for the deceased being combined with anxious solicitude for. their own BL-RGOYXES RETREAT TO SARATOGA. future. To add to the terrors of the scene, the American batteries, during the whole evening, filled the darkness with their blaze and roar ; while at every moment the balls fell around, and spattered earth in the faces of the chaplain and spectators. Gates now made preparations for throwing a strong corps into Burgoyne's rear. The latter, perceiving this, abandoned his hospital to the mercy of the victor, and retreated to Saratoga, nine miles dis- tant, where he arrived on the 10th. A drenching rain pursued him nearly the whole way. Gloom and despondency, from this hour, 96 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. made a prey of the British army. The men had lost all c(?iifidence in themselves : they were half-starved, wet through, wounded and sore. Their leaders saw no gleam of hope, and met each other with melancholy looks. There was no word of Clinton. The Americans already had seized the fords in the rear, so that escape was impossible. The net had been drawn closer and closer, until now the victim scarcely found room to turn ; every avenue blocked up, every hope of succor gone, Burgoyne was a subject of pity, rather than of hate. With secret tears, his proud soul saw all his visions of glory vanished ; and no resource left but a step only less bitter than death itself. This was a surrender, now inevitable. Accordingly, on the 1 3th, a communication was opened with Gates, and on the 16th, terms of capitulation were signed. The English, to the number of nearly six thousand, surrendered themselves pri- soners of war. By the stipulations of the articles the British were to march out of their encampment with the honors of war : to stack their arms by command of their own officers, who were to retain their side-arms : the men not to serve against the United States until exchanged, though to be permitted to embark for England or Germany. These were more favorable terms than would have been granted, had not Gates heard of the advance of Clinton to Fort Montgomery, and the fall of that place, which had taken place a few days before. In fact, the British General had reduced all the forts on the lower Hudson, and was now opening the way to Albany : but on hearing of Burgoyne 's surrender, he retired again to New York. Thus ended the expedition from Canada, on which the British ministry had placed such reliance. On the day of the capitulation, the American army numbered fifteen thousand men, of whom nearly ten thousand were regulars : the English five thousand, seven hundred and nine- ty-one, the remains of the splendid army of nine thousand, with which Burgoyne had left Ticouderoga. Even of these, but three thousand five hundred, were capable fighting men. The fall of Burgoyne was received with a burst of enthusiastic applause from one end of the confederacy to the other. The popu- lar mind, overlooking the true causes of his defeat, attributed all to the genius and courage of Gates, who was immediately lauded as the first of living Generals. No reward was considered too great for him. Congress voted him immediately a gold medal. Gates suffered himself to be carried away by this extravagant popularity. Of unequal mind, he became too exhilirated by success, as in defeat he was too depressed : he began now to form the loftiest ideas of his own AMERICAN ARMY AT VALLEY FORGE. 97 capacity and merits, grew over-confident, trusted too much to the terror of his name, and despising prudence and foresight, brought on himself at no distant day, defeat, humiliation and ruin. With far different sentiments was the news of Burgoyne's defeat received in England. Consternation seized even the warmest advo- cates of the war ; all foresaw that France would now ally herself to the colonies. The middle ranks, heretofore almost unanimous in support of the ministers, became alarmed at the prospect of a pro- tracted war and an increase of taxes. The minister himself saw that the cause was virtually lost, and hastening to the king tendered ^his resignation. In that crisis, George the Third had it in his power to have averted the further horrors of war, the increase of his peo- ple's burdens, and the execrations with which impartial history must load his name. But instead of listening to the remonstrances of Lord North, he laid his commands on that nobleman to remain in office and prosecute the war. Never was a more obstinate man than the then sovereign of Great Britain : never one possessing higher notions of kingly prerogative, or more at heart a tyrant. The minister to his own disgrace, consented. For a period of four more years, blood and havoc devastated America ; of all which the awful responsibility rests on the head of the monarch. Is it going too far to assert that in the miseries of his future life : in the ingratitude of his heir, in the commotions arising from the French revolution, and in his own subsequent blindness and insanity, a retributive Provi- dence worked out, in part, his punishment ? The close of the year 1777, found tlie British army comfortably quartered in Philadelphia, while the Americans lay at Valley Forge enduring every inclemency of the season. To this latter place Wash- ington had retired from White Marsh, his troops frequently tracking the ground with blood from their bare feet. At Valley Forge they constructed rude log huts, in which they braved one of the most icy winters on record : sleeping usually without beds, blankets, or even straw. But few of the men had a whole garment : half a shirt was more frequent than a whole one : overcoats were almost entirely wanting. To add to their sutierings provisions became scarce. The neighboring farmers, attracted by the gold given in exchange lor their products by the British, while the Americans had nothing to offer but continental money, constantly depreciating in price, flocked to Philadelphia ; and the army at Valley Forge might have starved but for the energy of Washington, who, exercising the dictatorial powers conferred on him by Congress, seized the necessary provi- sions by force, and continued thus to supply his camp until, through 13 I 98 THE WAR OF IXDEPENDEXCE. the exertions of the commissary department, succors were brought from Connecticut and other places at a distance. The horrors of the winter were increased by a contagious fever, which, arising origi- nally from scarcity of food and clothing, broke out in the camp and daily swept numbers to the grave. It is computed that of seventeen thousand men, the numerical force of the army, there were at no time during this awful winter, more than five thousand fit for duty. ENCAMPMENT AT VALLEY FOKGE. So alarming a condition of things, if known to its full extent by Howe, would infallibly have brought him out from his quarters ai Philadelphia to attack Washington. But the latter, by keeping parties actively employed in harassing the outposts of the British, and by circulating exaggerated stories of his strength, continued to alarm the prudence of the English commander and ensure repose for his own harassed troops. But Washington had not only to combat distress in camp, and keep a wary eye on a powerful foe without : domestic intrigue in his own army, and even in his military family, was busying herself to ruin him in the estimation of the people. From the beginning of the war there had been a party in Congress, chiefly New En- glanders, who viewed with jealousy the elevation of a Virginian to the supreme command ; and to these were now added a knot of discontented military spirits, who complained loudly of what thev called the criminal inactivity of Washington, and, under the guise of seeking to advance the interests of the country by the substitution of a more able chief, intrigued in reality to advance themselves. Among the most prominent of these men were Generals Conwav RESIGNATION OF HOWE. , 99 and Mifflin, the former a foreigner, the latter a Pennsylvanian. Gates was the person they aimed to place in the office of commander in chief. The latter was secretly a friend to the intrigue ; and hoped that his late victory would smooth the road to his elevation. Among other base plots of this faction, was one intended to separate La Fayette from Washington ; and for this purpose they procured Congress to project, without consulting the General, another expe- dition against Canada, the command of which was to be given to the Marquis. The plot failed, however, and the enterprise was abandoned. The machinations of these bad spirits coming to light, the popular voice broke out into such loud expressions of indigna- tion, and the esteem of Washington among the best citizens, was found so much to exceed their belief, that the conspirators abandoned their scheme in chagrin. Happy for the cause of independence was this failure, as the subsequent incompetency of Gates proved. There is no part of Washington's career which exhibits his character in a nobler aspect than his manly and high mmded conduct during this crisis : though conscious of the injustice of Congress, he was too elevated in soul to allow irritation or anger to alfect his conduct ; but serene and high, he bore himself above the petty weaknesses of our frail human nature, continuing in all things to exercise his duties as if nothing base or ungrateful had been plotted against him. On the contrary, it was during this very period, that he exposed himself to the animadversions of Congress, by beseiging their doors with letters and remonstrances in favor of awarding half pay for life to the officers who should serve during the war. He was actuated to this course by a sincere conviction of its justice. Many of the best officers had no income but their pay, and as this was received in depreciated continental bills, they did not enjoy enough to support themselves, much less their absent families. Civilians, in the mean- time, were making a comfortable subsistence in comparative ease. These considerations induced many to resign, the best and ablest being invariably the first disgusted. The evil threatened to disband the army. In this emergency Washington recommended the system of half pay for life, as a premium on continuing in the army to the end of the contest. This advice, though at first received with cold- ness, was finally adopted in part, and half pay for seven years was voted to the officers, to count from the close of the war. The spring of 1778 opened with the resignation of Howe, and his return to England, where, in consequence of current rumors against his incapacity, he demanded an enquiry into his conduct in Parliament. The investigation ended in nothing. Howe's chief 100 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. complaint against the ministry was that they refused to comply with his requisitions for troops, but persisted in the error, which he early warned them against, of believing that large numbers of loyalists could be recruited in America. The truth was, that ignorance, ob- stinacy and incapacity were, throughout this whole conflict, charac- teristics of the English Cabinet. Howe was right in his strictures : he never had enough men for his purposes. That he was not a great military genius ; that he frequently erred on the side of prudence ; are facts not to be denied. But the opinion of his merits rises when we consider that he effected more than any of liis successors. In reality, America, from the stubbornness of the patriots, and the impracticable character of the country, was uncon- querable : it was not in human intellect to overcome her : hence the failures of the English Generals, and hence, too, the recriminations between the ministry and the disgusted leaders. On the 6th of February, 1778, treaties of amity and commerce, and of alliance with the United States, were entered into by the king of France. This event, long procrastinated, had been deter- mined finally by the capture of Burgoyne. Hitherto France had held back, secretly aiding the Americans, but refusing openly to espouse their cause : her wish being to strengthen herself for a war if it should occur, and to avoid one unless a compromise between England and her colonies became impossible. On the 2nd of May Silas Deane arrived in Philadelphia with copies of the treaties. Congress immediately ratified them, amid the universal joy of the country. In the treaty of alliance it was declared that if war should break out between England and France, during the continuance of the one now existing with the United States, it should be made common cause : and that neither of the contracting parties should conclude either truce or peace with great Britain, without the formal consent of the other. Moreover, they mutually engaged not to lay down their arms, until the independence of the United States should have been formally, or tacitly, assured, by the treaty or treaties that should terminate the war. A separate and secret article reserved to the King of Spain the right to become a party to the treaty of amity and commerce, and to that of alliance, at such time as he should think proper. Not, however, to abandon all hope of accommodation, or rather as a blind to the country members. Lord North proposed in Parlia- ment new terms of conciliation with America. He moved a resolu- tion that in future England would abandon the right to lay any tax or duty on the colonies, except such as was beneficial to commerce. TERMS OF COXCILIATION. 101 SIGNING THE TREATY OF ALLIANCE AT PARIS. and it only to be collected under the authority of the respective provinces, and for their use and advantage. Five commissioners were appointed to treat with the colonies, with powers to suspend all laws passed since the 10th of February, 1763, and to grant armistices and pardons. The departure of these commissioners was hastened in consequence of the alliance with France. They arrived in America late in the spring, and immediately began to circulate copies of the conditions of compromise. Congress answered these papers by a report, which was ordered to be published with them. In this report the people were warned against this new and insidious attempt of England to destroy that union by Avhich alone the liber- ties of America could be achieved. A resolution of Congress was appended, declaring that the withdrawal of the British forces, or the acknowledgment of the independence of the states, were indispensa- ble preliminaries to any treaty. This report and resolution were received with general applause. The alliance with France had convinced the most timid that success must eventually crown the efforts of the confederation. The loyalists began to waver : some 102 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. even came forward and look the oaths to the new government. The storm was already breaking away : the clouds rolled westward : and through the broken gaps, which momentarily increased, gleamed in the distance the star of peace. The French, almost immediately after entering into their treaty of alliance, I'esolved to send a fleet to America ; and accordingly, on the 1 3th of xVpril, the Comit d'Estaing, with a large squadron, departed from France. The English ministry suspecting such a movement, and fearing that the French might embarrass Clinton by obtaining command of the Delaware, sent out instructions to him to evacuate Philadelphia and fall back upon New York. In conse- quence, on the 18th of June, the royal General abandoned forever the capital whose possession had cost so much blood. Expecting to find the population of New Jersey hostile, he took with him suffi- cient provisions for the whole retreat: this encumbered him with a long train of wagons, which rendered his progress necessarily slow. Washington, on receiving certain intelligence of this movement, broke up his camp at Valley Forge and began a pursuit. He was exceedingly anxious to attack the enemy, but his opinion in favor of a battle was over-ruled in a council of officers ; Lee, who had just been exchanged for Prescott, taking a prominent lead in opposition, and contending that the want of discipline among the Americans rendered the experiment too hazardous. Washington, however, followed the enemy cautiously, holding the power to give or refuse battle, as he chose. At last, on the 27th of June, the British army encamped at Monmouth, The heights of Middletown were but a few miles distant, and if Clinton once reached there, it would be impos- sible to attack him. In this crisis Washington resolved to give battle, notwithstanding the adverse opinion of his officers. The advanced division of the Americans had been confided to La Fayette, Lee having refused it ; but subsequently he changed his mind, and desired the command, which was generously yielded to him. Washington, on the evening of the 27th, gave him orders to attack the enemy on the ensuing day, unless there were powerful reasons to the contrary. Accordingly, on the 28th, Lee put his columns into motion to obey this command. The van of the British, led by Knyphausen, had started at day -break, but Clinton, with the rear, remained until eight o'clock on the heights where they had encamped the preceding night. In the meantime, Knyphausen had advanced some miles, and Clinton could just see his dark columns in the distance, the intermediate space being occupied by long trains of wagons toiling through the sandy plains. Clouds of dust hung over BATTLE OF MONMOUTH, 103 the prospect, for the day was already intolerably hot, with scarcely the slightest breeze stirring. The design of Washington was to let Lee assail Clinton in the rear, while Morgan and Dickenson should attack his right and left flanks, in the hope to cut him off from his baggage. But Clinton, penetrating this design, resolved to face on Lee, and make so vigorous an assault, that it would be necessary for the Americans to recall Morgan and Dickenson. The plan was well conceived, and executed with boldness. Wheeling on Lee, the British General advanced impetuously to the charge, his artillery and dragoons moving gallantly before him. Lee little expected to find Clinton so ready for the combat, or in such force ; neverthe- less, he began to form his line in order to receive the enemy. But at this moment, through a mistake, one of his subordinates, fell back with a portion of the troops, across a morass in their rear ; and Lee, already doubtful whether it was prudent to engage, suffered this incident to decide him, and began a retreat. His way lay along a valley, about three miles long and one wide, broken by woods, hillocks, and patches of swampy ground. He had already retired some distance, the British pursuing with animation, and yet he saw no position where he thought it advisable to make a stand. In fact, having been opposed to a battle from the first, he scarcely regretted that events had happened to justify his opinion. He still, there- fore, continued retreating. Washington, however, was in a situation exactly the reverse. He had recommended a battle : he had even brought one on against the opinions of his officers. His good name, in a measure, depended on success. Yet he had arranged his plans so skilfully, that he scarcely entertained a doubt of victory. On the first sound of firing, he hastened forward, at the head of the rear-guard, so eager to join the fray that he directed the soldiers to cast away their knapsacks. Suddenly, a horseman, covered with dust, his animal white with foam, dashed up, and announced that Lee was in full retreat. Astonishment and indignation flashed across Washington's countenance : for a moment, perhaps, he suspected treachery : plunging his spurs into his horse's sides, he galloped furiously forward. It was not long before he met Lee. Addressing that officer with anger, he demanded the cause of the flight. But instantly reflecting that the occasion was one for action, not for words, he proceeded to use his voice and example to check the retreat. It was necessary, first of all, to arrest the impetuous career of the British, and for this purpose, two bat- talions were placed on the left, behind a clump of woods, to receive the first shock of the enemy. Washington, after this, directing Lee 104 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. to make good his position at all hazards, hurried back to bring up the rear-guard. Lee, stung by the reproaches of the General, now made the most desperate efforts to rally his troops. He succeeded in part. For a while the English were checked. But the splendid grenadiers of Cornwallis, inflamed at this unexpected rebuff, now advanced to the charge, their polished muskets gleaming out, at broken intervals, through the dust and smoke of that sultry battle- field, like lightning playing in a thunder-cloud. Their loud huzzas rent the air as they charged at quick pace : and the Americans, overpowered, once more began to retreat. The contest had now raged along an extent of three miles or more. The day had progressed to noon, and the air was hot and suffocating. Many of the men in both armies, had fallen dead from the heat. It was the Sabbath day, and all nature was quiet. The leaves hung motionless on the trees ; no laborers disturbed the fields with rural sounds : far away, along the line of the hills, the atmos- phere seemed to boil in the sun's vertical rays. Yet Washington, haunted by the thought of impending disaster, saw nothing of these things ; all was uproar and tumult in his soul, as on the battle-field ; strange contrast with the peacefulness of nature ! Riding at the head, he hurried the rear-guard forward with impetuous haste, and speedily met Lee, now unavoidably retreating. Instantly room was made for the fugitives to pass to the rear, while the fresh troops were brought promptly and skilfully into action. One detachment was placed in a neighboring wood ; another, on a hill to the left ; and the remaining, and largest, in the centre, boldly facing the enemy. Lord Stirling, with a battery of guns, was sent to support the first, on the hill to the left. These dispositions had scarcely been made, before Greene arrived at the scene. He enjoyed the command of the right wing on that day, and had at first advanced considerably, but on hearing of Lee's retreat, had thought it prudent to fall back. Coming up opportunely at this crisis, he took a strong position on an elevation to Lord Stirling's right, and having with him Knox's bat- tery of artillery, he speedily unlimbered the guns, and began to open with vigor and accuracy on the foe. Lord Stirling's pieces seconded him from the other part of the field : and soon the groimd shook with incessant explosions. Tlie British had been checked in front by the very first of these dispositions. But, unwilling to yield the victory, they changed their point of attack, and attempted to turn the left flank of the Ameri^ cans: repulsed here, they wheeled like a hon bafiied in the ring, and essayed to surround the right of the foe ; but this was the period of THE BATTLE OF MONMOUTH. 105 SIB HENRY CLINTON. time when Knox had just planted his battery, and the well served pieces opened whole lanes through the masses of the foe. The dust and smoke combined, at this point of the strife, for a moment con- cealed the enemy from the Americans. All at once the canopy lifted and the British were beheld falling back. Washington saw it : his heart thrilled with anticipated victory: the moment had come when a vigorous stroke would turn the scales of battle. He ordered up Wayne, with his tried veterans, to charge the confused ranks of the enemy. Launching his infantry like a thunderbolt on the foe, that headlong officer carried dismay and terror every where before him. The story of the battle was reversed. The British were in full retrea* 14 106 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. Clinton, however, still desperately disputing the fray, rallied his men on the same gromid where Lee had made his first halt. Here his flanks were covered by woods and deep morasses : while his front was defended by a ravine, crossed only by a single narrow pass. Washington followed him up, and the action began anew. But the day had been consumed in this succession of terrible strug- gles, and night now approaching, the firing on both sides gradually ceased. In fact, the troops of either army were completely exhausted. At the welcome order to desist, the men flung themselves on the ground panting for breath, or eagerly sought water to allay their burning thirst. The night continued intensely hot. Scarcely a breath of air arose to cool the fevered Americans, and 'for hours they tossed on the ground courting sleep in vain. Slowly the dust settled once more on the plain. The moon, now in her fourth quar- ter, soon set, and for a while there was comparative darkness. Then the stars came out on a sky, again blue and unshrouded ; the dew, beginning to fall, rendered the atmosphere more refreshing ; and the soldiers, worn out. by excitement, finally sunk one by one to slum- ber, Washington reposing in their midst, extended on the uncovered ground. Thus ended the most memorable battle of the revolution. It was fought within a few days of the summer solstice, and with the ther- mometer at ninety ; the only strife of a like character recorded in history. Its result was a virtual defeat of Clinton. At the first, victory had inclined decidedly for the British ; but the skill and resolution of Washington changed the fortunes of the day. The Americans, in this battle, lost sixty -nine killed, and one hun- dred and forty wounded : the British had nearly three hundred killed, besides an equal number wounded. But their principal diminution of numbers occurred after the battle, when hundreds deserted to settle peaceably among the people they had come to conquer. On the morning succeeding the strife, Washington had resolved to renew the battle, but Clinton silently decamped in the night and gained the heights of Middletown. The American General thought nothing was to be gained now by a pursuit, and accordingly the English embarked in safety at Sandy Hook. On the 1st of July, Washington advanced to the Hudson, and took up a favorable position to watch the enemy now in force in New York. General Lee, of an irascible and revengeful mind, could ill-brook the expressions Washington had used towards him during the battle. He brooded over what he thought his injuries, and finally wrote INDIAN MASSACRES. 107 two improper letters to his superior. The consequence was a court martial, which suspended him for one year. The remaining events of 1778, may be told in a few words. The Count d'Estaing arrived off Virginia early in July, when, being informed that Lord Howe had left the Delaware, he pursued that officer to New York. Here, however, he could not get his ships over the bar, owing to the want of water. He now, at Washing- ton's suggestion, proceeded to Rhode Island, to unite with General Sullivan in the reduction of the British army, six thousand strong, which was stationed at Newport, Sullivan was at the head of a force often thousand men, chiefly militia, and was exceedingly anxious to succeed in the enterprise, for though a laborious, he had been an unfortunate officer, and he now fancied he had a chance to achieve something brilliant at last. The 9th of August was selected for a combined attack on the British lines. But on that day, Howe appearing off" the harbor, d'Estaing put to sea to give him chase. Sullivan waited in vain for his ally's return until the 14th, when he laid siege alone to Newport. On the 19th d'Estaing made his appearance, in a shattered condition, the two fleets having been separated by a storm. He refused to assist further in the siege, and announced his design of going to Boston to re-fit. In vain La Fay- ette and Greene besought him to remain. He replied, that he was controlled by orders from home. He set sail on the 22nd. SuUivuii now found himself forced to abandon the siege, which he did in mortification, anger, and despair. He was pursued by the British, who met a repulse : after which he was suffered to retire unmolested. He still, however, kept possession of the north end of the island. But, receiving intelHgence from Washington that Lord Howe had sailed from New York with a large body of troops, intended to cut off his retreat, he abandoned his works on the night of the 30th of September, and retired to the mainland. It was a fortunate move- ment, and not too early effected; for on the 31st, Clinton arrived with four thousand men. During this summer, occurred those devastations and massacres on the western border which will be ever memorable for their horrors. The Indians, excited by the English, made simultaneous incursions on the defenceless settlements, along the whole line of frontier from the boundery of New York to the confines of Georgia. In the south, their successes were partial : but from Virginia they were repelled by Colonel George Rogers Clarke. Their most terrible blow, however, fell on the beautiful and peaceful valley of Wyoming, situated on the north branch of the Susquehannah, in the upper part 108 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. of Pennsylvania. A body of savages and tories, the latter said to be the most numerous, headed by Colonel Butler, a Connecticut loyalist, descended suddenly on this settlement in the beginning of July, and laid waste the district with fire and sword. Unheard of cruelties were perpetrated on the miserable inhabitants. The heart sickens in reading the horrible details of that massacre. Harmless women were scalped and left to die in lingering agonies : children were inhumanly put to death in sport : a fort was fired and its EUINS OF WYOMING. unhappy inmates burnt alive. Brothers refused brothers mercy, but murdered them while suppliant. It is computed that of a population of three thousand souls very few escaped. When the relatives of the hapless victims visited the valley with reinforcements, they found only desolate ruins where once had been smiling houses, while for miles, before reaching the fort, the road was strewn with bleached and mouldering human bones. For this horrible massacre a terrible retribution was taken the succeeding year. An expedition, commanded by General Sullivan, proceeded up the Susquehannah, in the summer of 1779, as far as Wyoming, where it was joined by General James Clinton, from the Mohawk, with further reinforcements. The two Generals advanced up the Susquehannah,penetrating the territory of the Six Nations, until they reached a village called Newtown. Here the Indians had made a stand, assisted by some loyalists. Their position was defended by palisades and a rude redoubt, but the Americans charged with such fury, that the savages, after two hours fighting, fled on all sides. No further resistance was made by the Indians, STORMING OF STONY POINT. 109 who, abandoning their corn-fields and villages, hid themselves in inaccessible swamps, or retreated to the frontiers of Canada. Sulli- van's orders were to lay waste their comitry with fire and sword, which he proceeded to do. Forty villages, and one hundred and sixty thousand bushels of corn were destroyed : the whole of that fertile district, with its orchards and farm-houses, was reduced to a smoking ruin : and the savages, late its possessors, and who had there gathered aroimd themselves all the appliances of civilization, were driven forth outcasts, to herd again with wild beasts, and to perish of want, exposure, and (iisease, during the ensuing winter. Thus do the miseries and cruelties of war re-produce themselves. During the year 1779, the same in which this terrible retaliation occurred, the armies of Washington and Clinton, though watching each other closely, engaged in no enterprise of magnitude. On the side of the American General, this apparent indolence was the result of the comparatively small force under his command, for the terms of a large portion of his troops were expiring, and enlist- ments progressed slowly. He was especially unwilling to hazard the loss of a battle with his insufficient forces, because he considered the cause gained already, unless, by his receiving some severe check, the drooping spirits of the enemy should be raised. On the side of Sir Henry Clinton, this inactivity was in part the result of a want of reinforcements, in part the remembrance of Monmouth, and in part a consequence of a design then forming to operate in the southern colonies. Meantime, however, the British General set on foot several pre- datory excursions, the principal of which was directed against the exposed coast of Connecticut. The command of this enterprise was bestowed on the notorious Governor Tryon. He took with him twenty-six hundred troops, and was absent about ten daj^s, during which period he plundered and burnt East Haven, Fairfield, and Norwalk : and New Haven, which he pillaged, would also have been given to the tiames, but for the gallantry of a party of students, headed by Captain James Fairfield. Another expedition was despatched against Porstmouth, in Virginia. That town was plun- dered, and partially destroyed, as well as Suff'olk, Kemp's Landing, Gosport, and other places in the vicinity. About one hundred and fifty American vessels fell into the hands of the British, during the fortnight's stay made by their fleet on the coast. After being absent less than a month, this Vandal expedition returned to New York. Early in the spring the Americans had busied themselves with fortifying Stony Point and Verplank's Hill, commanding King's 110 THE WAR OP INDEPENDENCE. Ferry, on the Hudson. The Enghsh resolved to attempt the seizure of these two posts, as in that case the Americans would have no way of communication between the middle and eastern colonies, unless by making a circuit of ninety miles up the Hudson. The enterprise was successful. Clinton now hastened to complete the works at both these places ; and had, before the end of June, ren- dered them, as he hoped, impregnable. Washington, however, resolved to attempt their surprize. The delicate and perilous undertaking of storming Stony Point, the most difficult of the two, was entrusted to General Wayne, v On the 15th of July, 1779, that officer, at the head of a detachment of picked veterans, cautiously approached the place, and, unperceived by the enemy, advanced to the assault about half-past eleven o'clock at night. The Americans marched in two columns, with fixed bayonets. The enemy soon discovered them through the gloom, and immediately opened a tre- mendous fire of musketry and grape ; yet nothing could daunt the impetuosity of the assailants : opening their way with the bayonet, they scaled the works, and the two columns met in the centre of the fort. The fury of the defence is shewn by the fact, that out of the forlorn hope of twenty, seventeen fell. General Wayne him- self was slightly wounded in the head at the beginning of the assault, but bravely continued to advance with his men. The English lost six hundred in killed and prisoners. The American loss was sixty- three killed, and forty wounded. The fortifications were now demolished, and the place abandoned. The attack meditated against Fort Verplanks, on the opposite side of the river, had not the same success, insurmountable obstacles having been encountered. This campaign was also distinguished by the surprise of Pawles Hook. With less than five hundred men. Major Lee, on the 18th of July, took this post with the loss of but half a dozen men, killed and wounded. About thirty of the enemy were killed, besides one hundred and sixty-one taken prisoners. The post being near the main body of the enemy ,was immediately abandoned : but the brilliant success of the enterprise exhilarated the spirit of the whole American army. About the same time, General Putnam, at the Horse Neck, in Connecticut, came near falling into the enemy's hands, and only succeeded in escaping by gallopping his horse headlong down an almost precipitous descent of one hundred steps. In August of this year, an expedition, fitted out at Boston, to reduce the British post at Penobscot, failed in consequence of unnecessary delays, which afforded time for an English squadron to sail to the relief of the THE WAR IN THE SOUTH. Ill post. Thus the year passed. No important enterprises were undertaken ; no permanent advantages gained on either side. We must now turn from the north, where comparative inactivity marked both armies, and devote ourselves for a while to the south, where war, revisiting that section of the country, in the summer of 1779, continued to rage there until the declaration of peace, with a violence and horror to which the north had been a stranger, and which gave to it, in the language of General Greene, the character of a strife between fiends rather than men. GENERAL GREEXE. BOOK IV. THE WAR IN THE SOUTH. HE commissioners sent out with Lord Howe, in the spring of 1778, had con- tinued in the country after Congress re- jected their proposals, one of their number occupying himself in endeavors to seduce various prominent members of the patriot party. Governor Johnstone was the per- sonage who made himself active in these overtures. He addressed letters to Robert Morris, to Joseph Reed, and to Francis Dana : and secretly offered, through a lady, a bribe of ten thousand pounds to General Reed. These in- trigues coming to light, induced Congress to declare that it could 15 K* 113 114 THE WAR OF IXDEPENDENCE. hold no correspondence with Johnstone, who made a sharp rejoinder, while his colleagues dis(?laimed all knowledge of any bribery and corruption, and bore testimony to his honesty and high liiindedness. The conduct of Reed was one of the noblest histances of patriotism in our revolutionary history. The winter spent at Valley Forge had not been without one good effect: it had tended materially to increase the discipline of the army. In May, 1778, the Baron Steuben, who had served with distinction under the great Fredericl^ was appointed Inspector General of the army, into which he speedily introduced the exact and perfect prac- tice of the then celebrated Prussian discipline. The benefit of his instructions was perceptible even at so early a period as the battle of Monmouth, as may be seen by comparing the conduct of the soldiers there and at Long Island; but was more especially remark- able in the storming of Stony Point, where not a musket was (Hscharged, but the bayonet did every thing, a feat worthy of the Prussian veterans themselves. The British, after three active campaigns, now found themselves no further advanced than in the first. It had been remarked in Europe, on hen ring of the battle of Bunker Hill, that the royal troops h;id con(]iicred, on that day, only so nmch of America as was covered by the dead and dying. After the la])se of four years, they had done no more. At no period, not even in the disastrous autumn ot' 177f), had they reduced to submission more of the country than they occupied. As long as their armies were present in overwhelm- mg force, the inhabitants were quiet through terror ; but the instant the royal troops departed, the country rose in their rear. The tem- porary ascendancy of the loyalists, always in a minority, was cast down : the jjatriots once more assumed the reins of government ; the disaffected were banished, imprisoned, or silenced by fines : and a traveller, ignorant of this sudden change, would have supposed that the colonists had never succumbed to the British, since the war first broke out. From the conquest of such a people, the royal generals began to turn in despair. At first, they had attempted the reduction of New England. A year's experience had convinced them that this was impossible. Then they had essayed the middle states ; this endea- vor, also, after a more stubborn trial, they had virtually abandoned. The south, however, remained to them : and they resolved to make there a last effort. They were stimulated to this final enterprise by the servile character of a portion of her population, opening a door for domestic treason and warfare ; by the fact that a larger com- GENERAL PREVOST AT SAVANNAH. 115 parative number of the free population were loyalists, than at the north ; and by the richness of portions of the soil, which furnished large supplies to Washington, as well as to the French fleet in the West Indies. It was hoped that if the south was overrun and conquered, it could be retained for the King, even if it became necessary to acknowledge the independence of the middle and eastern provinces. The Carolinas and Georgia were too rich a prize to be lightly abandoned : the stake was worth playing for, at least. Moved by these considerations, the English Generals resolved to transfer the war to those provinces. A sufficient force was to be reserved at the north to keep Washington in check : the remainder was to be embarked for a new and more dazzling field of enterprise. Was it blind destiny, or an overruling Providence that lured them on ? As an experiment. Lieutenant Colonel Campbell had been despatched from New York, towards the close of the year 1778, with twenty-five hundred men, to invest Savannah : while at the same time, General Prevost, who commanded the British troops in the Florldas, was ordered to march with all his force, and invade Geor- gia from the south. Colonel Campbell appeared in the Savannah river on the 23rd of December, 1778 ; and six days after effected a landing, under cover of the fleet. General Robert Howe, of the American Army, had hastily collected a force of about nine hundred regulars and militia, and with these he took a strong position, sur- rounded, except in front, by the river, and by morasses. A negro, however, betrayed a secret pass in his rear to the enemy, and being attacked on both sides at once, Howe was defeated, though not until after a desperate resistance. Nearly two-thirds of his little force were either killed or made prisoners. The town, the fort, the ship- ping in the river, and all the provisions, fell into the hands of the British. With what remained of his little army, Howe retreated into South Carolina. In the meantime, General Prevost had begun his march from East Florida, pursuant to the orders of General Clinton. After having conquered innumerable obstacles, he arrived at Fo"rt Sunbury, which he proceeded to invest. The fort soon surrendered. About this time, Colonel Campbell, who had set out also to reduce the fort, came up, and the two English corps effected a junction with mutual felicitations. General Prevost now proceeded to Savannah, where he assumed the chief command. Shortly after, he sent a ictachment to occupy Augusta. The loyalists in the upper part of South Carolina, animated by the appearance of the British at Augusta, collected, and began to march to join the royal standard, 116 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. having first chosen for their leader Colonel Boyd. Their route was everywhere marked by pillage and flame. They had already crossed the Savannah, and were near the British posts, when Colonel Pickens, with a party of Carolinians, in pursuit, came up with them. The tories were routed with great slaughter. In consequence, the English abandoned Augusta, and fell back to Savannah. This retreat was the more advisable, because General Lincoln, whom congress had just appointed to the conniiand of the southern army, had arrived in the vicinity of Augusta, and encamped at Black Swamp. He had been selected at the recommendation of the Carolinians, on the first intimation of Clinton's designs agamst the south. The people now rose and took arms with alacrity to second him. He soon found himself at the head of about twenty-five hun- dred men. Sixteen hundred of these he despatched to the upper country, under the command of General Ashe. Prevost, gaining intelligence of this separation, resolved to attempt the destruction of the weaker corps, and accordingly, by a forced march, he came up with General Ashe, at the head of nine hundred regulars, and speedily defeated that officer. Most of those who escaped, dis- banded, so that but four hundred, out of the whole detachment, returned to Lincoln. This affair, in which the militia behaved shamefully, has been called the rout of Briar Creek. It occurred on the 3rd of March, 1779. Lincoln and Prevost, after this, remained watching each other until the beginning of May, when Lincoln, in order to overawe the loyalists in the upper comitry, advanced towards Augusta. Instantly Prevost formed the design of carrying the war into the heart of Carolina. He accordingly crossed the Savannah, and began to forage extensively, General Moultrie, whom Lincoln had left to watch the British, retiring before him. Astonished at his own suc- cess, bolder views now broke upon him, and he conceived the daring project of capturing Charleston itself In a few days, accordingly, after a forced march, he arrived within cannon-shot of that rich capital, which he instantly summoned to surrender. On this, all was consternation among the citizens : some were for an instant compli- ance, others wished to hold out against a storm. At last, amid these conflicting counsels, it was resolved to temporise for the present, trusting to the speedy arrival of Lincoln to raise the seige. This scheme succeeded. Prevost was still listening to discussions of the terms of the capitulation, when he received intelligence that Lincoln was approaching. It was now his own turn to be alarmed. He determined to retreat. This he eff"ccted bv crossing to the SIEGE OP SAVANNAH. 117 neighboring islands of St. John and St. James. A succession of like fertile islands, contiguous to each other, but separated from the main, stretch along the sea-coast from Charleston to Savannah, and by availing himself of these, Prevost extricated himself from a dilemma, into which it is almost impossible to tell whether he was led more by boldness, than by rashness. Lincoln made no attempt to assail the retiring British, except by attacking the pass at Stono Ferry ; where, however, he met with a repulse. • The royal army now retired to Savannah. Thus, in a single campaign, had the British conquered the whole province of Georgia, besides devastating some of the richest parts of South Carolina and almost possessing themselves of its capital. It is true that the excesses committed by the royal troops, in the end inflamed the inhabitants against them ; but, at present, nothing was seen, nothing was talked of, but the supremacy of the English, The British officers continually remarked on the ease of conquering the south, compared with the more stubborn north. Miserable delusion ! But when Prevost wrote to Sir Henry Clinton that he had reduced the whole province of Georgia to abject submission, and that in Carolina he had destroyed innumerable splendid dwellings and freed four thousand negroes, the British General, inflamed by the magni- tude of the prize and the comparative ease Avith which it might be appropriated, determined to follow up in earnest the conquest of that splendid section of the country. In the meanwhile, in order to divert the public mind, he despatched that ruthless expedition against Portsmouth, in Virginia, of which we have already given an account. Before, however, Sir Henry Clinton could prepare to enter in person on a southern campaign, the Count d'Estaing arrived off Savannah, anxious to perform something showy and brilliant before he returned to Europe. We left him re-fitting at Boston in 1778. After he had laid in his stores there, he sailed for the West Indies, where he was occupied, with various success, for nearly a year. About the first of September, 1779, he made his appearance on the coast of Georgia. The news of his arrival caused a delirium of exultation at Charleston. Lincoln immediately marched for Savannah. D'Estaing now landed his troops, and on the 15th of September the allies appeared under the walls of the town. Prevost was summoned to surrender. He asked twenty-four hours delay, during which time he was joined by a reinforcement of eight hun- dred men. He now expressed his determination to defend himself to the last extremity. On this d'Estaing began the siege in form. Tlie allies numbered nearly eight thousand j the British three thou- lis THE WAR OP INDEPENDENCE. Savannah in the year o^fE thousand, seven hundred and seventy-eight. sand. But the latter were defended by fortifications, which daily- strengthened beneath their assiduous labors. At length, on the 3rd of October, the besiegers mounted their first battery, and for the five succeeding days the bombardment was maintained with extraordi- nary vigor : fifty-three heavy cannon and nine mortars shook the earth with constant explosions ; carcasses were launched into the town, imparting flames wherever they struck ; women and children were killed by the falling roofs, or what is worse, were miserably crippled. Yet still the garrison betrayed no signs of surrender. The few breaches in their works they repaired, defying their enemy gal- lantly to the last. The season was now approaching when storms, so frequent and terrible in the autumn on that coast, rendered the situation of the French fleet extremely precarious. D'Estaing had been pursuaded, day after day, by the growing excitement of the siege, to postpone his departure ; but now he declared that the safety of the fleet precluded a longer delay. Before abandoning the expedition, however, it was resolved to attempt the British works by assault : an enterprise in SIEGE OF CHARLESTON. 119 which d'Estaing was sanguine of success, although no considerable breach had been yet opened. Accordingly, on the 9lh, before day, the allies advanced to the storm in two columns, d'Estaing leading one, and Lincoln the other. It is said the English had received notice of the impending attack ; and the assertion is rendered proba- ble by the state of preparation in which they were found. For an hour the strife raged with terrific fury. A redoubt on the Ebenezer Road became the principal scene of the conflict. A French and an American standard were at last planted on the ramparts, but soon hurled down, with their brave defenders, by the soldiers in the place. In the end, the allies were forced to retreat, leaving, of the French, six hundred and thirty-seven, of the Americans, two hundred and forty-one, killed and wounded. In the height of the assault, Count Pulaski, charging at the head of his men, received a mortal wound, of which he died a few days after. The loss of the British, as they fought behind ramparts, was inconsiderable. On the 18th the siege was raised. Lincoln passed to the left bank of the Savannah, into South Carolina : d'Estaing embarked, and immediately left the coasts of America. Of this fatal aftair, impartial history is forced to record that the assault either took place too soon, or was put off too long. Had it occurred before Prevost was reinforced it would probably have been successful : had it been delayed until the trenches were further advanced, and practicable breaches made, the fortress must have fallen. Thus ended d'Estahig's career in America. In all his enterprises undertaken in conjunction with his allies he was unfortunate, partly from his own rashness, partly because restricted by instructions from home : in consequence his name has been regarded here with peculiar unpopularity and disfavor. He etfected little, yet was not wholly useless. His presence restrained the Bri- tish and made them avoid hazardous enterprises. Owing to his expected return from the West Indies the royal troops were with- drawn from Rhode Island and concentrated at New York ; while Clinton, from the same cause, postponed his long contemplated southern expedition, until d'Estaing had left America. No sooner, however, did the British General receive certain intel- ligence of d'Estaing's departure, than he set sail from New York, with between seven and eight thousand men, under convoy of Ad- miral Arbuthnot, who had arrived some weeks before with reinforce- ments. The fleet was at first separated by a tempest, but the ships finally arrived in Georgia about the end of January, 1 780. Thence th(^ re-united forces proceeded towards Charleston, and on the 11th of February landed on St. John's Island, about thirty miles south of 120 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. that town. Proceeding with celerity, CHnton, by the end of March, was fully prepared for the siege. On the 21st, Admiral Arbutlniot, with the fleet, forced the passage defended by Fort Moultrie. On the 29th, Clinton crossed the Ashley, twelve miles above the town, and marching down, took post across the isthmus, a mile and a half distant behind the city. On the 1st of April ground was broken, and in a week afterwards batteries raised. On the 9th, Admiral Arbuthnot, taking advantage of a favorable wind, sailed up the harbor, and took a position within cannon shot of the town. Every- thing being now ready on the part of the British, and the city being liemmed etfectually in, a summons was sent to Lincoln to surrender. That General answered with spirit that he was determined to de- fend himself to the last. On this the English opened their fire. From the hour in which he had received the intimation of Clin- ton's approach, Lincoln had been busily engaged in putting Charles- ton in a state of defence. The old works were repaired : new fortifications erected. A chain of redoubts, lines and batteries was constructed, extending from the Ashley to the Cooper river, thus completely defending the peninsula on which Charleston stood. Eighty pieces of artillery guarded this line. On either side of the town, wherever a landing could be eflected, batteries were erected, which bristled with cannon. On these various works six thousand slaves had been actively employed. Meantime, the Governor, Mr. Rutledge, seconded Lincoln with all the powers of civil government, increased in this emergency, by a vote of the Assembly, to those of a dictatorship. The inhabitants Avere called out en masse, and con- fiscation threatened to those who refused. Nevertheless, there was among many a disposition to hold back : already they feared that the colonists would prove the weaker ; and, in consequence, the utmost exertions of the Governor and General could not raise the effective force of the garrison above six thousand. Of these, but two thousand, who were regulars, could be depended on. But there were strong hopes that reinforcements, which had been promised from North Carolina, would speedily arrive : indulging this expecta- tion, Lincoln returned a defiance to the summons of Clinton. Had it been certain that no succor would reach him, the American Gene- ral might have acted differently, and either made an honorable capitulation, or effected a retreat over the Cooper River, which as yet remained open to him. In a few days, however, this outlet was also closed. A party of cavalry and militia, who virtually guarded it, were attacked and uttterly routed, at Monk's Corner. The English now swarmed SIEGE OF CHARLESTON. 121 over the whole country on the side of Cooper River opposite Charleston ; and thus were the Americans finally enclosed. By this time the second parallel had been opened, and the town began to crumble under the fire of the British batteries. Receiving an accession of reinforcements amounting to three thousand men, Clin- ton resolved to attack Fort Moultrie, which place, despairing of relief, and being too weak to resist an assault, surrendered on the 7th of May. The third parallel had now been reached. Clinton seized this occasion to summon Lincoln anew. But the Americans would not consent to the terms of capitulation offered, and accord- ingly the conflict began again. The English batteries thundered incessantly : the fortifications sunk under repeated blows ; many of the guns were dismounted, and oflicers and soldiers were picked off if they showed themselves above the works. The town, all tliis while, suftered terribly. Bombs fell continually among the houses, whence flames almost hourly broke forth, and were with difficulty extinguished : no roof was safe, no place of refuge remained. The citizens began to clamor. The garrison lost heart. At last the inflexibility of Lincoln gave way, and on the 12th of May, articles of capitulation were signed. By these the garrison was allowed some of the honors of war : it was to march out of the town and deposit its arms in front of the works, but the drums were not to beat a British march, nor the colors to be uncased. The seamen and continentals were to be prisoners of war until exchanged : the militia were allowed to return to their homes as prisoners on parole : the citizens were also to be prisoners on parole, and, as well as the militia, were not to be molested in person or property. The officers were to retain their arms, baggage and servants. By this capitula- tion seven general officers ; ten continental regiments, much reduced ; three battalions of artillery ; four frigates ; and an immense quan- tity of bombs, balls and powder came into the hands of the English. It is computed that four hundred cannon, and six thousand troops, in all, were captured at the fall of Cliarleston. The blow was the severest one the cause of independence had yet received, Lincoln was almost universally blamed. One half the nation censured him for attempting to defend the town at all, and the other half found fault with him for not abandoning it before the rout at Monk's Corner. His best defence, perhaps, is in this very diflerence of opinion ; for if it was difficult, after the afiair, to tell what he should have done: how much more difficult must it have been during the progress of events. Besides, he had been promised reinforcements, which he depended on, but which never arrived. 16 L 122 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. In popular communities an unfortunate General is too frequently- punished as an incompetent one, at least, by public opinion ; and such was the fate of Lincoln : but it is the province of history to correct these erroneous judgments, and declare the truth, however counter it may run to preconceived opinions. Clinton had no sooner taken possession of Charleston than he proceeded to follow up his success by the conquest of the state. He sent out expeditions to various quarters, all of which were success- ful. One, composed of about seven hundred horse and foot, com- manded by Colonel Tarleton, overtook and defeated, after a forced march, a body of continental infantry and a few horsemen, led by Colonel Benford, at the Waxhaws. A horrible scene of butchery ensued. The Americans, imploring quarter, were ruthlessly cut TARLETOX S QUARTEBS. down, until nearly every man was killed, or so severely wounded as to be unable to move. This massacre gave a tone of savageness to the future warfare in the south on both sides ; and, long after, when the colonists would express the cruelties of a barbarous foe, they called them Tarleton's quarters. These reverses struck terror far and wide through Carolina. The fall of Charleston, and the successive blows dealt throughout the state, paralyzed all resistance : even the patriots began to regard the AMERICAN VICTORY AT HANGING ROCK. 123 south as iiTetrievably conquered. Clinton resolved to seize this favor- able crisis in the public sentiment, by the proclamation of a general amnesty and pardon, ending with an invitation to all citizens to renew their allegiance. By a sort of trick he strove to enroll the inhabitants in the army of the King. He freed all persons taken at Charleston, except the regulars, from their parole ; but immediately enjoined on them, as being now royal citizens, to take up arms for his Majesty. All persons who would not do this were to be treated as rebels. Regarding the colony as completely conquered, he soon after sailed for New York, leaving Cornwallis in command at the south. But the clause, in which it was sought to force every citizen to fight for the King, soon began to re-act with terrible force against the British. Men, who had but lately borne arms for the Congress, were not prepared to take the field against it : they would have been willing to remain neutral; but they were not to be drilled into instruments of oppression. A change in the public sentiment immediately began. Despair gave courage : a deadly animosity was nursed in secret. Many openly avowed their sentiments and fled : others dissembled for a time. But the great majority, so frail is human nature, were driven by their fears to swear allegiance to the royal government ; only the women were frank and heroic, for these, with a courage above that of the other sex, openly expressed their sentiments, and loaded with smiles of approval the few of their countrymen who dared to be sincere. A portion of those who preferred abandoning their homes to acknowledging the royal authority, met in North Carolina, and chose for their leader. General Sumpter, a man of enterprise, skill and chivalrous courage. He immediately began, on the state authori- ty, a partizan warfare. On the 10th of July, at the head of but one hundred and thirty-three men, he routed a detachment of royal forces and militia at Williamson's plantation. His force gradually swelled to six hundred men. He now made an unsuccessful attack on Rocky Mount, where a strong party of the enemy was posted ; but immediately afterwards met and almost utterly annihilated, at Hanging Rock, the Prince of Wales' regiment and large body of tories. These slight checks, however, did not intimidate Cornwallis, who was actively engaged in preparations to invade North Caro- lina. But meantime Congress and Washington had not been idle, and at that very moment an army was advancing from the north to oppose him, headed by the man who had subdued Burgoyne, the con- quering Gates. 124 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. As soon as Washington had been apprised of the siege of Charles- ton, he had despatched the Earon de Kalb to the succor of that j)lace, with fourteen hundred regulars. That officer made every eftbrt, but in vain, to reach his destination in time. In passing through Virginia and North Carolina he was joined by the militia of those provinces, by which rehifo-rcements his army was raised very conside- rably. So large a force, in the eyes of Congress, fevored the hope of a successful struggle for the recovery of the south : and to give as much conftdence as possible to the army. Gates was appointed to the chief command, the prestige of whose name, it was thought, would ensure victory. Accordingly, on the 25tli of July, that officer joined the camp at Deep River. He immediately reviewed the troops, and without loss of time advanced to the Pedee. On entering South Carolina, he issued a proclamation, calling on all patriotic citizens to resort to his standard. So great was the confidence in his name, that mnnbers flocked to him, and on every side, the most unequivo- cal signs of a rising alarmed Cornwallis. That officer was at Cam- den, where he found that he must either retreat to Charleston, or give battle to his foe. His forces were but two thousand, of whom only fifteen hundred were regulars : while the army of Gates amounted to three thousand, six hundred and sixty-three, of whom about a thousand were regulars. Nevertheless, he chose the bolder resolution, and determined to give battle. On the night of the 15th of August, accordingly, he moved from his position, intending to assault the Americans in their camp ; but, by a singular coincidence, he met Gates half-way, coming, in like manner, to surprise him. A smart skirmish ensued in the darkness, which unfortunately destroyed the confidence of the American militia ; but eventually both armies drew oti", resolving to await daylight before they engaged in the deadly strife. Profound silence now fell over the landscape, no sound being heard except the occasional neigh of a horse, the cry of the sentinel, or the wind moaning among the lofty pines. The morning rose still and hazy. Cornwallis found himself, for- tunately, in an excellent position. His army covered a piece of firm ground, bounded on the right and left by morasses, parallel to which a highway ran through the centre of his position. He accordingly drew up his army in two divisions: the right, commanded by Colonel Webster, reached from one morass to the highway ; the left, led by Lord Rawdon, extended from the highway, to the other morass : the artillery was placed hi front of the highway, as it were, between the two divisions. Tarleton, with his cavalry, was on the right of the road, in readiness to charge or receive the enemy, as BATTLE OF CAMDEN. 125 occasion might require. Gates divided his van-guard into three columns ; the right, the centre, and the left, commanded respectively by Generals Gist, Caswell, and Stevens. Behind the left column, which was composed of the Virginia militia, were posted the light infantry of Porterfield and Armstrong. Colonel Armand, with his cavalry, faced the legion of Tarleton. The continental troops of Delaware and Maryland formed the reserve. Unfortunately, just as the action was about to begin. Gates, not exactly liking the position of his left and centre columns, undertook to change them. The eagle eye of Cornwallis saw the advantage this error aflbrded him, and instantly, he hurled the veteran grenadiers of Webster on the still wavering line. The English advanced in splendid order, now pour- ing in their fire, now charging with the bayonet. For a while, the smoke shrouded the combatants from sight, but the suspense was soon over, for the Virginians, breaking wildly from the vapory canopy, were seen flying in all directions. Their rout exposed the flank of the next column, Avhich in turn gave way. Gates and Caswell made some efl"orts to check the panic, but in vain ; for Tarleton, coming down at a gallop, spread renewed terror and con- sternation among the fugitives, who plunged themselves, as a last hope, into the woods for safety. The whole shock of battle now fell on the reserves, the gallant regulars of Delaware and JNIaryland : and already their left flank was exposed, while, in front, a victorious foe poured down to the attack. Then was shewn the difference between veterans and militia, between discipline and the want of it ! Environed by foes, and left alone on that sanguinary field, the little band, not a thousand strong, still made good its ground. Opposing the enemy with a terrible fire, or by the push of the bayonet, they, for a while, withstood all his efforts. The Baron de Kalb led them several times to the charge, and they even regained, lost ground, and took some prisoners. A few hundred more of such veterans would have turned the fortunes of that bloody day. But their number was too small to produce a permanent effect ; and at last, surrounded on all sides, and pene- trated by cavalry, they were forced from the field. The Baron de Kalb fell in this desperate struggle mortally wounded, and was abandoned to the foe. The flight now became general. The British pursued the fugitives for the space of twenty-three miles, hewing mercilessly down all they overtook : and to this day, tradition bears testimony to the terrors of that bloody rout. The loss in this battle, for the Americans, was excessive, consider- ing the number of troops engaged : it was, according to the account T* 126 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. of Lord Cornwallis, about eight hundred in killed, and one thousand ni prisoners. As the rovit and dispersion was so total, the American General could never tell what his real loss was ; but the English account is probably exaggerated. The British sullered in killed and wounded, three hundred and twenty-five. Gates remained on the field until the total rout of the militia, when, regarding the day lost, he retreated to Charlotte, about eighty miles distant, with only a few friends. The next day, about one himdred and fifty soldiers, the remnant of his army, arrived at the same place. With this slender force. Gates retreated to Salisbury, and finally to Hills- borough. Another disaster soon followed. Sumpter, a few days before the battle, had asked a reinforcement of four hundred men from Gates, to enable him to intercept a convoy of supplies, destined for Lord Cornwallis. He obtained the men, and succeeded in capturing the convoy. But hearing of the defeat at Camden, he began a hasty retreat up the Wateree, with his prisoners and stores. Tarleton gave pursuit, and owing to the negligence of the sentinels, surprised Sumpter in his camp, dispersing his force with a loss of between three and four hundred, and recovering all the captured stores. The defeat at Camden depreciated the reputation of Gates, as much as the capture of Burgoyne had exalted it. He passed at once from the extreme of popularity to that of odium. That a Gene- ral should succeed so signally in the one instance, and fail so disgrace- fully in the other, is a fact which has been considered inexplicable. But the secret of the paradox lies in the character of Gates. Though an acccomplished gentleman, and a finished ofiicer, he was not a great General, in any sense of the term. He entered on the northern campaign after the net had been spread which afterwards enclosed Burgoyne, and when all that was left for him to perform, was to conduct the drama gracefully to the end : this no man could do bet- ter. But when he came to operate in a difiereiit region of country, he shewed that want of adaptation to circumstances which is so fre- quently the ruin of military reputations. He hurried on, when he should have moved slowly : he relied on badly disciplined troops, when he ought to have waited until they were better drilled : he undertook to move militia in the face of a foe, a manoeuvre only to be performed by veteran troops. After the battle, his despondency was as excessive as his exhilaration before had been undue. In a word, his was one of those minds which, in ordinary times, like gay pleasure-barks, are safe enough, but which, when ditierent occasions arise, and the horizon darkens with tempests, lose tlieir equipoise DEFEAT OF MAJOR FERGUSON. 127 and go down forever. One of the first acts of Congress, on hearing of the disaster of Camden, was to supersede Gates. Tiie choice of a successor was left to Washington, who selected General Greene, a man, as events proved, every way competent for the office. The victory at Camden left the British once more an undisputed supremacy, which Cornwallis proceeded to assert with terrible, if not impolitic rigor. Under his orders, every militia man who had borne arms with the British, and afterwards joined the Americans, was to be put to death ; and numbers of mihappy victims, in consequence, perished on the gallows. Those who had once submitted, but who had subsequently taken up arms, were to be imprisoned, and their property confiscated. The iron hoof of the conquerer was thus made to trample on the breast of the humblest as well as of the most proud. Despair took possession of the miserable inhabitants. Escape from this awful tyranny seemed hopeless. At first, beguiled or terrified into joining the party of the King ; then lured to that of Gates by the prospect of a speedy delivery from their oppressors ; and now again cast back, disarmed and powerless, into the merciless arms of the conquerer ; they saw no hope of relief miless by a mira- cle from heaven. The first gleam of success came from a victory won chiefly by militia, a species of force which, in this war, gained some of the most gallant triumphs, as well as caused some of the most dis- graceful defeats. Major Ferguson had been sent by Cornwallis, into North Carolina, to raise and embody the tories, a task which he executed with success. He was conducting his new levies to the royal camp, when he learned that General Clarke, of Georgia, after an unsuccessful attempt on Augusta, was retreating. Major Fergu- son instantly resolved to cut him off. But a party of mountaineers from North Carolina and Virginia, hastily assuming arms, intercepted Ferguson, himself, near Gilbert-town. Finding escape impossible, he fell back to King's Mountain, where he made a stand. The Americans advanced in three divisions. Ferguson gallantly repulsed the first with the bayonet: but while thus occupied, the second attacked him : this also he drove back. Meantime, the third had come into action; but while engaged with this, the other two rallied and returned to the charge. Ferguson now fell mortally wounded, and his men, struck with dismay, surrendered. In this action, the British lost one hundred and fifty killed, as many wounded, and eight hundred prisoners. The American loss was inconsiderable, except in the death of Colonel Williams. Cruelty begets cruelty, and smarting under the remembrance of Camden, the Americans selected ten of 128 THE WAR OP INDEPENDENCE. their prisoners, and hung them on the spot. After this, the victors disbanded and returned home. The success of this bold enterprise led to the beginning of that partizan warfare, which, from this time forward, was prosecuted with such success by the Americans. The two prominent leaders in this species of warfare, were Generals Sumpter and Marion. Sumpter was impetuous, chivalric, often rash, and brave to a fault : his ene- mies gave him the coarse but expressive nickname of the " game- cock." Marion was wary, subtle, ever on the watch, 'quick as lightning to advance or to retreat : the British, affecting to despise his superior caution, called him " the swamp fox." Sumpter, after the dispersion of his corps by Tarleton, raised a body of volunteers, and plunging boldly into the heart of South Carolina, maintained himself there for three months, harassing the enemy continually, and secm-ing his safety by the rapidity of his movements from point to point. At Broad River, Major Wemyss, at the head of a force of infantry and dragoons, came up with him ; but was totally defeated, and himself taken prisoner. vAt Tyger River, his old adversary, Tarleton, attacked him, but was beaten otf with loss. Wlien the British army went into winter quarters, Sumpter still kept the field, capturing parties sent out to forage, and dealing a blow wherever possible. Marion's movements, for a time, were less bold. Begin- ning, at first, with but a few men, his followers gradually increased to a respectable force : and with this he now began to traverse the country, often at night, and always with rapidity. His blows fell ni all directions, and where least expected. Tlie British, hearing of him at one place, would hasten to pursue him, but Marion, wheeling on their rear, would strike, perhaps, the very position they had abandoned. Often, at sunrise, he would be sixty miles from the place where he had been seen at smiset the night before. His little army varied continually, the men coming and returning as they found convenient : sometimes he had a hundred followers, some- times scarcely a dozen : in consequence, many of his best conceived enterprises had to be abandoned for want of troops. His influence, however, continued gradually extending : risking little, he in the end gained much: and when the war closed, perhaps no man, after Greene, stood higher in the estimation of the southern colonists, or was regarded as having contributed more to the success of the struggle. The victories at King's Mountain and Tyger River, induced Cornwallis, who at first, had advanced towards North Carolina, to fall back again on Camden. As he retired. Gates advanced. Another army, though small in number, had gradually gathered itself around BATTLE OF THE COWPENS. 129 the defeated General. Concluding that active operations would be ■ postponed until spring, Gates retired into Avinter quarters, at Char- lotte. Here he was when, on the 2nd of December, Greene arrived to supercede him. In this delicate affair both Generals acquitted themselves handsomely. Gates yielded up the command with dignified resignation, and Greene paid his predecessor the delicate compliment of confirming his standing orders. The new commander immediately proceeded to review his troops. He found them to consist of nine hundred and seventy continentals, and one thousand and thirteen militia. Of all these, however, there were but eight hundred properly clad and equipped for service. The artillery consisted of two brass field pieces, besides several of iron. The magazines were empty. The neighboring country was almost a waste, and provisions would have been difficult to procure even with money, but Greene had not a penny. This was a situa- tion to drive a General to despair. But Greene, of all the men of the Revolution, was next to Washington, the man of most equal mind. JNIisfortune had no power to depress, as success had no capacity to elate him. He began immediately, as Washington had done at Cambridge, to remedy the evils that surrounded him. He reformed the Quartermaster's department ; he inspired confidence in the men, yet at the same time tightened the reins of discipline : he made himself aquainted with the country in which he had come to operate ; and, as a preliminary measure, appointed Kusciusko to prepare flat-bottomed boats, to have at hand, in which to cross the numerous rivers with which the two Carolinas are intersected. His first movement was to despatch Morgan west of the Catawba, in order to encourage the inhabitants in that quarter. Morgan's force consisted of three hundred regulars, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Howard, the light dragoons, of Captain Washington, and ten companies of militia from Virginia, composed chiefly of old con- tinentals. Greene, after making this detachment, moved his own camp down the Pedee. He was here about seventy miles north- east from Wynnsborough, where Cornwallis lay awaiting reinforce- ments ; Morgan was on the Pacolet, about fifty miles north-west of Cornwallis. In these relative positions of the three armies, the British General determined to advance on North Carolina, and in his way, to strike at one of the American divisions, while unsup- ported by the other. He had just been joined by General Leslie, with reinforcements, enabling him thus to assume the offensive. Accordingly he moved north-westward, between the Catawba and Broad Rivers. Meantime he detached Tarletou to attack Morgan. 17 130 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. It will be seen, from the route chosen by Cornwallis, that even if Morgan escaped Tarleton, there was a cnance of his being inter- cepted by Cornwallis himself. On the 14th of January, 17S1, General Morgan, for the first time, learned his danger. Though pursued by a much superior foe, he resolved nevertheless to give battle. For this purpose he halted at a place called the Cowpens. He drew up his best troops, consisting of the regulars and old continentals, in number between four and five hundred men, on an eminence in an open wood. In their rear, on the descent of the hill, he posted Washington's cavalry, and some mounted militia men from Georgia. On these two corps rested his hopes of victory. The militia were posted in front, to receive the first shock of battle, with orders to give a single fire as the enemy approached, and then fall back, firing by regiments, until they had passed the regulars, on whose right they were ordered to form. Tarleton began the attack with his usual impetuosity, his men shouting as they advanced. The militia fell back, as ordered. The British, pressing their advantage, rushed gallantly on, and with their superior numbers soon outflanked the little line of continentals. Perceiving this, Howard, who commanded them, ordered the com- pany on his right to change its front so as to face the enemy on its flank. The order was misunderstood, and the company fell back : on which, the whole line, adopting the error, began to retreat, but slowly and in good order. At this crisis General Morgan galloped in person to the head of the line, and ordered it to retire over the brow of the hill to where the cavalry was posted. Believing victory theirs, for they looked on this movement as a retreat, the British dashed impetuously forward and in some disorder ; but they had scarcely crossed the hill when the Americans suddenly halted, with- in thirty yards, and gave them a withering volley. At this unex- pected check, the royal troops halted in some confusion. A moment would have restored their confidence ; but Howard did not give it to them : instantly seeing his advantage, he ordered his men to charge with the bayonet. The solid front of steel bore every thing before it. The British line was broken. At the same moment the enemy's cavalry, who, the instant the militia began to retire, had galloped in pursuit, were charged by Washington, and the rout of the royal troops became general on all sides. Both Howard and Washington pressed their advantage. The latter pursued the flying enemy for some distance and in the eagerness of pursuit, had nearly paid for his temerity by his life. In this action the British lost one hundred BATTLE OP THE COWPENS. 131 BATTLE OF THE COWPEXS. killed, and over five hundred prisoners. Two field pieces, two standards, eight hundred muskets, and numerous baggage wagons and dragoon horses fell into the hands of the Americans. The vic- tors lost but eighty men in killed and wounded. For the number of persons engaged this was one of the most brilliant victories of the war: and in its consequences was of almost incalculable importance. It deprived Cornwallis of one-fifth of his army. Had Greene been in a condition to follow it up, might have led to the total overthrow of the British supremacy in the Carolinas : but the American Gene- ral had scarcely two thousand men, and most of these were militia, a force with which it would have been madness to have sought the foe. The army that Gates lost at Camden would have been invaluable to his successor in this crisis. The battle field at Cowpens was about the same distance from the fords of Catawba as was the Camp of Lord Cornwallis ; and as it was necessary to cross the Catawba before he could re-unite with Greene, an event now indispensable for the safety of both, Morgan lost no time in pushing for the fords. He arrived there on the 23rd, and immediately crossed. But Cornwallis was close on his rear. That officer had devoted a day to collecting the fugitives from the Cowpens, and had then hurried forward to the Catawba, hoping to overtake Morgan before the latter passed it. Finding the American 132 THE WAR OF INDEPE'NDENCE. General had already crossed, the British commander resolved to follow up the chase ; for miless he could prevent the junction of Morgan and Greene, the fruits of Camden were already lost. That he might move with the more celerity he destroyed liis baggage. On the morning of the 1st of February, having been detained two days by rains, which had swollen the river, he forced a passage, defeating the militia under Davidson, who had been left to guard the stream. The retreat of the Americans that ensued is one of the most memorable in history. Greene, on receiving intelligence of the victory at the Cowpens, detached Stevens with his brigade of Virginia militia to escort the prisoners taken in the conflict, to Charlottcville, Virginia. He then bent the whole force of his genius to effect a junction between the two divisions of his army. For this purpose he left General Huger in command of the division which he had hitherto accompanied in person, ordering him to retreat on Salisbury, where he hoped to bring Morgan to join him : and then hurried himself, almost unat- tended, to the camp of the latter individual, where he arrived just before Cornwallis forced the Catawba. He now retreated with Morgan's little force to the Yadkin, the British General struggUng to reach it first. Greene, however, arrived on its banks in advance and immediately crossed ; but so close was the enemy behind, that the van of the one army reached the shore as the rear of the other left it. Here chance again interposed in favor of the Americans. The Yadkin was already swollen, but in the night it swelled still more, and being without boats, the British could not keep up the pursuit. Accordingly Greene had a moment's respite, which he employed in eflecting a junction with Huger. Thus foiled in his hope of cutting off the division of Morgan, from that of Huger, Cornwalhs, after some hesitation, resolved by throw- mg himself between Greene and Virginia, to force that officer to a general action before the reinforcements known to be preparing for him in Virginia could arrive. At present, the army of Greene numbered but two thousand ; that of Cornwallis, nearly one-third more : consequently the latter, in a pitched battle, was certain to crush the former. The position of Lord Cornwallis favored the design. Unable to cross the Yadkin after Greene, he had marched up that river, and effected a passage near its source. This placed him nearer than his rival to the fords of the Dan River, which still lay between Greene and safety : and as he was informed there were no boats below by which the Americans could cross, he felt sure of his prey. GRUENe's retreat in north CAROLINA. 133 The nearest ferry to Greene was Dix's, fifty miles off; and it was about equidistant from the two armies. Lower down the Dan, and about seventy miles from Greene, were two other ferries, only four miles apart. By retreating on these lower ferries, a considera- ble start would be gained on Cornwallis. The only difficulty was in the want of boats, in which to cross. To collect a sullicient num- ber, an express was sent ahead, which succeeded, with infinite labor, in procuring the required quantity. One thing more remained to be done. It was necessary to deceive CornwaUis as long as possible with respect to the route taken by the main body of the Americans; and accordingly a light corps was formed of the cavalry, and a number of picked infantry, the command of the whole being given to Colonel Williams, with orders to form a rear-guard, and take the road to Dix's, while Greene quietly drew off in front towards the lower ferries. The stratagem fully succeeded. Cornwallis pressed on, assured that the main body of his enemy was before him, and certain of being able to cut it to pieces when arrested by the Dan. To increase the deception, Williams hung back close on the rear of his pursuers, his own men and those of Cornwallis frequently being within musket shot. At last, thinking time had been afforded Greene to cross the Dan, Williams abandoned the road to Dix's, and pushed for the lower ferry. Cornwallis, now first perceiving the trick of which he had been a victim, pressed furiously in his rear. It is said that both the British and Americans marched forty miles in the last twenty-four hours ; and that the escape of Williams was so narrow, that his rear had scarcely touched the northern bank of the Dan when the enemy reached the southern one. Williams crossed on the 14th of February ; Greene had crossed two days before. By this masterly retreat Greene regained the base of his opera- tions, and threw himself in the way of reinforcements ; while Corn- wallis was drawn away from his communications, and lured into a hostile country. The merit of this achievement is increased when wfe consider that it was executed in winter, through deep and frozen roads, and that the Americans were almost naked, and but scantily supplied with provisions. On the other hand, the British troops were well clothed and well fed. The disastrous consequences of the retreat, to Cornwallis, soon began to be seen. That officer at first had advanced to Hillsborough, and issuing a proclamation, in which he asserted he had driven Greene out of North Carolina, called on the inhabitants to acknowledge the royal authority. But the American General, having been reinforced by six himdred M 134 THE WAR OF INDKPENDENCE. militia, resolved to turn on his foe, and on the IStn of Fehriuiry, re-crossed the Dan. He did not take tliis step a moment too soon. There had always been a large number of loyalists in North Caro- lina, and these, now animated by the presence of Cornwallis, began to show symptoms of taking arms. To favor their rising, and con- duct them afterwards to Camp, the British General despatched Tarleton to Haw River, where the greatest numbers of these tories dwelt ; but Lieutenant Colonel Lee and General Pickens having been sent by Greene to frustrate this movement, and arriving first, surprised and totally cut to pieces the royalists already up, and by the terrible example prevented others from rising. Tarleton himself narrowly escaped being intercepted, and was only saved by an express sent, by Cornwallis, to give him warning. A fortnight was now spent by the two armies in manoeuvreing in face of each other : the object of one being to approach more nearly the district occupied by the loyalists, and the aim of the other being to frustrate this. In the course of this fortnight Greene, fearing a surprise, changed his camp every night. His light troops, during the same period, signalized themselves by the most daring conduct, and were of incalculable value. At last, having received a portion of the reinforcements he had been waiting for, the American General resolved to gratify his adversary, whose great object, from the hour when he crossed the Catawba had been to bring General Greene to battle. On the 14th of March, accordingly, the American army advanced to Guildford Court-House, and there awaited the British, who were but eight miles otf. The ensuing day broke clear and calm. Early in the morning, the approach of Cornwallis was made known, and Greene proceeded to draw up his men in order of battle. The hill on which Guildford Court-House stands, slopes downwards with an undulating sweep, for nearly half a mile to a little valley, through which runs a rivulet. Near the foot of this hill, and behind a fence, Greene posted his first line, consisting of two brigades of North Carolina militia. About three hundred yards in the rear of these, in a wood, half way up the hill, the second line, consisting of two brigades of Virginia troops, was drawn up. The third line was at the top of the hill, three hundred yards behind the second line, and was composed of the regulars, the Virginia brigade on the right, and the Maryland brigade on the left. Washington's cavalry guarded the extremities of the right flank : Lee's legion, with Campbell's riflemen, were on the left flank. These three able officers were stationed in the woods at the ends of the first line. The artillery, except two pieces, under Captain Sin- ««». ^ ^ BATTLK OF GUILDFORD COURT-HOUSE. 135 gleton, which were pushed forward in front of the first line, was with the regulars, at the top of the hill. About one o'clock the British came in sight, and shortly after, the artillery of the two armies began the action. Cornwallis, relying on the discipline and tried courage of his troops, resolved to trust the struggle to a single impetuous charge, and accordingly, having formed his line of battle, pushed his columns across the brook, and the dif- ferent corps, deploying to right and left, were soon formed in line. The instant this was done, they began to advance. Greene had hoped that the militia, protected by the fence, would at least be able to give the enemy two or three fires before they fled ; but the impo- sing front and the loud huzzas of the approaching foe, struck a panic to their hearts : and when the grenadiers, throwing in a deadly vol- ley, levelled their bayonets and rushed on, the militia, without waiting for the shock, fled, throwing away their still loaded guns. In vain Lee spurred among them, and endeavored to allay their terror ; in vain other officers exhorted and threatened : the fugitives could not be stopped, but flung themselves, mad with fear, into the woods. Cheering as they advanced, the British now poured onwards, and soon came up with the second line. But here they met a momentary check. Undismayed by the flight of the North Caro- linians, the gallant Virginians, sheltered, in part, behind the trees, kept up a galling and incessant fire. In numerical force, however, their assailants were far superior, and at last, the right flank began to give ground. It did not, however, fall back directly, but swung around, as on a pivot, on its other extremity. There, on the left, the retiring forces of Lee and Campbell, assisting the militia, main- tained the battle with stubborn resolution, and as yet did not yield an inch. By the retreat of the right of the second line, however, a portion of the third and last line, consisting of Gunby's first Maryland regiment, was exposed to the British, who now came dashing up the hill, assured of victory. But here, for the first time, they met vete- rans, like themselves. A shattering volley made them recoil, and before they could recover themselves, the bayonet was upon them. They broke and fled. Could Gunby have been now sustained, the rout would have been complete. But his presence was wanted to arrest ruin and disaster in another quarter : for while he had been sustaining his position, the left of the second line, after a gallant resistance, had finally given way, like the right, and fallen back on the second Maryland regiment, forming the left of the third line. This gave way shamefully at the first onset. But, at this crisis, Gunby 136 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. wheeled his Uttle band through a belt of saplings to his left, and came unexpectedly on the victorious British, A desperate struggle ensued. At last, Washington galloped to the rescue with his cavalry, and the enemy began to waver, on which Gunby's regiment threw in the bayonet. The shock was irresistible. The British fled, pursued by the Americans, and the day would have been irretrievably lost, if Cornwaliis, desperate at approaching defeat, had not opened his artillery on the driving mass of fugitives and pursuers, and by the sacrifice of foe and friend alike, arrested the torrent. That part of the British force first repulsed by Gunby, had now rallied : the wreck of the battalion, defeated on the left, was being gathered and re-formed, and soon nearly the whole British force was again in the field, though shattered and disheartened. Corn- waliis, resolute to conquer, prepared to renew the attack. With disciplined troops, Greene would not have feared for the result. But the conduct of more than half his men had been so digraceful that he thought it best not to hazard the day further ; and accordingly drew ofi', retiring in good order beyond Reedy Fork, where he halted three miles from the field of battle. Waiting here, until he had collected his stragglers, he then retreated to his camp at Troublesome Creek. The last to leave the field of battle were Lee and Campbell, who continued skirmishing long after all others had retired. In this battle, the loss of the Americans was two hundred and seventy, of which the principal part fell on the regulars. The British lost nearly six hundred, a fourth of their number. The vic- tory was unquestionably with Cornwaliis, though the Americans suffered rather a repulse than a defeat. In its effects, however, tlie battle of Guildford Court-House answered very nearly the purposes of a triumph for the Americans. " Another such victory," said Fox, in the House of Commons, " would ruin the British army." Immediately after the battle, Cornwaliis began retreating, and when Greene, a few days subsequently, pushed forward Lee to harass his rear, this retreat became a virtual flight. Abandoning his wounded, Cornwaliis retired with such preciphation, that the American Gene- ral, notwithstanding he urged the chase with all his speed, could not overtake the fugitive. After a painful march. Lord Cornwaliis reached Wilmington, on the 7th of April, Here he called a council of officers, to decide whether to advance on Virginia, or retreat towards South Carolina. Considerable diversity of opinion prevailed, but on the whole, a CAPTURE OF THE BRITISH POSTS. 137 majority favored the advance on Virginia. Accordingly, after resting his troops for about three weeks, the British General directed his march on Petersburg. In this emergency, Greene hesitated for a while what course to take. If he followed Cornwallis into Virginia, he abandoned the Carolinas to their fate : if he returned to the Caro- linas, he left Virginia an easy prey to Cornwallis. He reflected that the line of posts which the English had established from Ninety- Six to Charleston, was the real base of their operations, and that if, by returning to South Carolina, he could wrest them from the enemy, their loss would be a greater evil to Cornwallis, than any conquests elsewhere could compensate. Besides, the militia positively refused to follow Cornwallis into Virginia, and thus abandon their own homes to destruction. Moreover there was in a return to Soutli Carolina a boldness which might lead the enemy to believe Greene was acting fro.m secret reasons, which they could not comprehend. Actuated by these reasons, the American General abandoned the pursuit of Cornwallis, and retracing his steps, shifted the seat of war from North to South Carolina. The wisdom of this decision was vindicated by the result. Corn- wallis, after ravaging a portion ofVirghiia, found himself, at lasi, assailed by a new army, at a vast distance from his base, and being equally unable to retreat or advance, was compelled to shut himself up in Yorktown, where he fell a comparatively easy prey to tlie Americans. Greene, on the contrary, by his return to the south, inspired the patriots there with renewed courage ; while the royal forces, and the loyalists were correspondingly depressed. Leaving Cornwallis for the present, we shall follow the fortimes of Greene. On the 5th of April, 1781, the American General began his march to Camden, his intention being to force Lord Rawdon, the successor of Cornwallis, to abandon that post. Lee, with his legion, was sent in advance, with orders to join Marion. These two officers had acted together the preceding year in the attack on Georgetown ; and they now united to reduce Fort Watson, one of the chain of British posts to which we have just alluded. On the 22nd of April, after eight days siege, the place surrendered. On the 12th of the succeeding month, these two leaders reduced another of these posts. Fort Motte ; and three days after. Fort Granby capitulated to Lee, That active officer now proceeded to the neighborhood of Augusta, where, joining his legion to the forces of Pickens, who commanded a body of militia there, the two leaders succeeded in compelling the British garrison at the place to capitulate on the 5th of June. Marion, in the meantime, had marched on Georgetown, which was 18 M* 13S THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. evacuated by the enemy, on his approach. In tliis manner, the chain of forts forming the base of the English army's operations, was gradually broken up. Immediately after detaching Lee, Greene, with his army reduced to about eleven hundred men, made his appearance at Hobkirk Hill, a mile from Camden. On the 25th of April, Lord Rawdon, who, bold and able, was no despicable successor of Cornwallis, sallied out to attack him. Greene had taken a strong position, which he had partly entrenched ; but Rawdon, making a circuit, came down on his left flank, which was exposed. The English marching com pact il^ single column, Greene resolved to redeem the day by assail- ing them on both flanks, while Washington should turn their right and assault them in the rear. The charge of the Americans was so fierce that the British gave way at first, and a terrific fire of grape- shot on their rear, from an American battery, increased their disorder. Rawdon, as a last resort, called up his reserves, who, nothing intimidated, advanced with tumultuous huzzas ; this restored the spirits of the others, and for a while the two armies, meeting in mutual shock, swayed alternately to and fro. At last a Maryland regiment gave way. The panic spread infectiously through the whole line. Several attempts were made by the oflicers to rally, but in vain : the English bayonet allowed no respite : the retreat became general. Washington, who had gained the British rear, finding his companions retiring, was forced in turn to abandon the day, though not until he had secured several prisoners. Greene, after his repulse, retired on Gum Swamp, about five miles from the field ; Rawdon fell back to Camden, in which place he shut him- self up. In this affair the British lost two hundred and fifty-eight, in killed, wounded and missing ; the Americans about an equal number. It was Rawdon's desire to retain Camden as the centre of his operations ; but the capitulation of Fort Watson, together with the threatened loss of Forts Motte, Granby and Orangeburg, all posts situated in his rear, made it necessary to retire on Charleston. Ac- cordingly, on the 9th of May, he rased the fortifications, and aban- doned the place. Receiving inteUigence on his retreat of the capture of the three forts mentioned above, he continued his retrograde move- ment to Eutaw Springs. In the meantime Greene, perceiving that his adversary had abandoned the upper country, marched on Ninety- Six, intending first to reduce that post, the only one left to the King, and then follow up the fugitives. But the fort being unusually btrong, could only be taken by regular approaches, and in the inter- THE BATTLE OF EUTAW SPRINGS. 139 val Rawdon, having been reinforced with three regiments from Ireland, feU himself sufficiently able to advance to its relief. Greene, hearing of his approach with a superior force, resolved to hazard an assault, in hopes to carry the place thus ; but he was repulsed with loss ; and now, no other resource benig left, he broke up his camp and retreated. Rawdon, on his arrival at Ninety-Six, finding the place not tenable against a long continued siege, abandoned it, and thus the British became dispossessed of their last post in the upper country. The royal leader now retired to Orangeburg, and Greene took possession of the heights of the Santee. In these positions the two hostile armies continued during the hot and sickly season that ensued, the usual attendant of a Carolina summer. It was during this momentary respite that Colonel Hayne was executed at Charles- ton, on the 10th of August, 1781, for having borne arms on the side of the Americans, after signing the deceitful declaration of Sir Henry Clinton. The tragic story is familiar to all, and we will not rehearse it here. It lent additional fury to the already savage strife, giving a keener poison to the barbed and envenomed arrows of war. In the begimiing of September, on the first symptoms of relaxa- tion in the excessive heat, Greene, now reinforced by the neighbor- ing militia, left his camp and began to push the enemy back on Charleston. The British retired step by step, forced by the skilful manoeuvres of their antagonist, until, on the 7th of September, they made a temporary stand at Eutaw Springs. Here, on the next day, Greene attacked them. The royal commander formed his troops in two lines ; the American leader placed his militia first, and support- ed them behind with regulars. At first the battle was well con- tested on both sides, but finally the American militia gave way ; on this the English left, too eager to pursue, broke the continuity of their line by advancing. Greene saw the favorable crisis, and instantly precipitating his tried veterans on the gap in the line, the whole British army, struck with sudden panic, gave way, corps tumbling over corps, in their haste to reach their entrenchments. Upwards of five hundred of them had already been taken prisoners. Suddenly a portion of the fugitives reached a stone house, into which, with the quickness of thought, they threw themselves, others rallied behind the garden paUsades, others in a thick copse wood close by. This happy movement saved the British army from utter ruin. The retreat was checked : the battle began anew. But all the eftbrts of the Americans to dislodge the enemy from their strong position were unavailing : and in the end they drew off their forces, after having suffered terribly in the contest to gam possession 140 THE WAK OP THE REVOLUTION. of the house. The loss of both parties was very severe in this action : the Americans had five hundred killed, wounded and miss- ing ; the English, eleven hundred. This battle may be considered the virtual termination of the war in the south, as the capture of Cornwallis, about the same time, concluded that in the north. Skirmishes continued to occur fre- quently between the outposts of the two armies ; but the British after this were never able to make any considerable stand. The spell of their supremacy was broken ; their own confidence deserted them ; and the population, in all sections of the state, deeming the royal cause ruined, openly joined the Americans. After the battle, the English retired to the vicinity of Charleston, and for the rest of the war confined themselves to their strong posts. Less than two years had passed since Clinton vauntingly wrote home that the Carohnas were permanently annexed to the crown; and in that time the genius of a single man, aided by the exertions of a portion of the inhabitants, had redeemed the conquered state. The admira- ble conduct of Greene, throughout the whole of this contest, earns for him in history the first rank after Washington as a military commander. Equal to every emergency, whether of disaster or success, he never lost the even balance of his mind ; and by his un- dismayed front supported the hopes, and re-kindled the confidence of the desolated south. Beginning his career with but the wreck of an army, he closed at the head of a body of the best disciplined troops in America. His forces, in this period of time frequently fluc- tuated from a General of Division's command to that of a Colonel's ; yet he never could be entrapped at odds by his foe. Though often repulsed, he was never ruinously defeated ; and even his checks he managed to transmute into virtual victories, by the alembic of his genius. Whether he retreated or advanced, he was in the end the winner. CAI-tOftE OF TQE GENERAL MONK BY TUB UYDER AIXT. BOOK V. TO THE CLOSE OF THE CONTEST. HE fourth act of the revolutionary drama had now closed, and, like all the preceding ones, though opening so promisingly for England, had ended in J defeat and gloom. The battle of Tren- ds ton had first checked the career of her ' "^arms, when apparently in the full tide ^_^^^_^^^^-_^_ of irresistible conquest. The capture of Burc.o;;;^dnex7 followed, rendering abortive her designs on 1 eastrstLs. The battle of Monmouth, m the succeedmg year, 142 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. had taught CUnton that, in the north, he must confine his acquisi- tions to the territory immediately around the city of New York, The expedition against the south, the last resort of the ministry, had also failed. It now remained but for the proud army of Cornwallis to be annihilated, to convince all, even the most obstinate, that the conquest of America was a hopeless task. Already this event cast its weird shadow ahead. But, before we enter on the story of that transaction, so glorious for the Americans, and so decisive in termi- nating the war that it may be regarded as the final catastrophe of the drama, it is necessary to go back a period in our history, and resuming the course of events in the north, bring them down to the present time, in order that the stream of narrative hereafter may flow clear and unchecked. For two years subsequent to the battle of Monmouth, the military operations in the north were comparatively tame and unproductive. In part, this was the result of the want of troops, money and provi- sions on the American side, the causes for which we shall explain more at length during the course of this chapter. But in part also it was owing to a general disposition to await the course of events in the south. The rival armies, in fact, during these two years, may be said to have stood at gaze, like opposite factions in an amphithe- atre, watching the result of a combat between two formidable champions on the stage. As one side triumphed its friends took new hope : as success crowned the other they desponded. For a portion of this period, moreover. Sir Henry Clinton was actively engaged in person in the south, and those he left in command at New York thought the number of their troops insufficient for offen- sive opera-tions. For most of this time, therefore, the war was but a war of skirmishes. It is owing to this that we can consider the action of the revolutionary struggle as forming a complete dramatic whole, of which each period naturally grows out of the preceding, the story advancing with accelerated interest and increasing in im- portance until the climax is reached in the capture of Cornwallis. The stand taken by France in favor of the colonies resulted eventually, as the English Cabinet had feared, in drawing Spain and Holland into the contest against Great Britain. All these powers consulted rather their own passions and interests than those of America in thus embarking in her cause; and more than once it was to be feared that they would, on gaining their ends, desert her and retire from the conflict. For the first two years of the alliance, France occupied herself in contending with England for supremacy in the West Indies and on the European seas, the abortive expedi- NAVAL BATTLES. 143 tion of d'Estaing being the only one she sent to the aid of her repubhcan ally. It is foreign to our present purpose to narrate the different encounters between the English and French fleets, or to describe the siege of Gibraltar, these being events more properly belonging to European history. The rise and history of the armed neutrality we shall, in lik3 manner, pass over. COMMODORE JOHN PAUL JOMS A subject more germain to our theme is the story of our own naval successes during most of the war. From the first collision between the colonies and mother country, innumerable privateers had swarmed the ocean ; the damage done to British commerce by which has been computed at a hundred millions. One of the first acts of Congress had been to establish a few national armed ships. This force, though small, had proved very efficient, and lost nothing in comparison even with the vaunted English navy. The various en- counters between the American and British vessels would be too numerous to mention in detail. A few will suffice to show the spirit with which the strife was carried on at sea. On the 7th of March, 1778, Captain Biddle, in a thirty-six gun frigate, accompanied by four smaller armed ships, fell in with a royal man-of-wai of sixty-four gmis and engaged her. The other American vessels could not come 144 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. into action, and hence Captain Biddle's flag ship had to bear the brunt of the fight. Nobly did she maintain her part. Firing three broadsides where her adversary did one, she sliowed no signs of succumbing, when, about twenty minutes after the battle began, she suddenly blew up. Only four of her crew were saved, and these could never explain the cause of the disaster. Her gallant and chiv- alrous commander perished in her ; but the country, even after the lapse of seventy years, has not ceased to regret his fate. Another naval conflict, even more remarkable, was fought on the 22nd of September, 1779, between the Bon Homme Richard and the Sera- pis. In this conflict, Paul Jones, in command of the former ship, after two hours hard fighting, during which his own vessel was reduced to a sinking condition, forced his antagonist, though superior in weight of metal, to surrender. This action occurred in sight of the English coast, and is universally regarded, on account of the obstinacy with which it was fought, as one of the most memorable in history. Another celebrated action was the one between the Hy- der Ah and General Monk in Delaware Bay, April the Sth, 17S2. The Monk had been ravaging the commerce of the bay for some time, when Lieutenant Barney in the Hyder Ali, left Philadelphia to chastise the insolent foe. The Monk struck, with a loss of twenty killed and thirty-six wounded. The Hyder Ali had four killed and eleven wounded. The naval successes of America filled Europeans with astonishment; accustomed to see English ships nearly always tri- umph over those of equal force belonging to other nations, they could not understand why a handful of rude colonists, settled at the other end of the world, should suddeifly attain such a superiority at sea. But they did not examine the subject, or their wonder would have ceased. The American mercantile marine had long nourished a hardy, brave and daring set of seamen, who, on finding their peaceful vocation destroyed by the war, naturally crowded the pri- vateers and national armed ships as their only remaining source of livelihood. Other and richer nations might build ships, but they were sure to want men afterwards : the Americans had the men, and only required the ships. In this single fact lies the whole secret of our naval superiority then and since. The alliance with France had as yet not only proved of little ser- vice to America, but on the contrary, in one respect at least, had injured her prospects. We allude to the fatal indifl"erence towards the carrying on the war which pervaded the country as soon as the alliance became known. Regarding victory as now certain in the end, the citizens began to intermit their exertions and sacrifices; and it was no common occurrence even to hear leading patriots say that MUTINY IN THE AMERICAN CAMP. 145 France hereafter would bear the whole burden of the war. Added to this the continental money continued depreciathig. The army thought itself neglected by Congress, and indeed was ; but Congress was less to blame than the states, to whom it appealed in vain. The enthusiasm which had distinguished the first years of the contest had entirely disappeared ; and all classes, with the exception of a few leading men in each, were become mercenary, selfish and even criminally indifferent. Hence it was that during the whole of the years 1779 and 1780, Washington was unable to undertake any enterprise of importance ; for with an army decreasing continually by the expiration of enlistments, and impossible to be recruited to any extent, in consequence 6f the apathy of the public mind, it would have been madness to have engaged in a war of oii'ence. The American General, therefore, contented himself with maintain- ing his lines on the Hudson, West Point being the key to his posi- tion. He often experienced the greatest diihculty in victualling his troops, but his skill and perseverance finally overcame every obstacle. The manner in which he triumphed in this emergency, and held his army together, is, perhaps, a higher proof of his ability than gaining a pitched battle would have been, in the ordinary course of European warfare. The winter of 1779-80, was particularly severe. The pay of an offi- cer was now scarcely sufficient to buy him a pair of shoes : that of a private had depreciated, of course, in an equal ratio. Few persons were willing to make contracts to the government for supplies of any kind ; and of the few entered into, by far the larger portion was unfulfilled. At length a mutiny broke out among the Connecticut troops : two regi- ments paraded under arms, declaring their fixed resolution to return home, or procure food by force. The intelligence of these disorders reaching New York, Knyphausen, who commanded there during Clinton's absence in the south, caused a number of printed declara- tions to be circulated in the American Camp, inviting the disafiected to join the royal standard. But though justly exasperated against their country for her neglect, the mutineers were not prepared to betray her, or desert the principles they had sworn to assert. Not a man, it is believed, went over to the enemy in consequence of this invitation. The mutiny itself was finally quelled by the exhortations of the officers. In the meantime, however, Knyphausen, not to lose what he thought so favorable a chance, had made a descent into New Jersey, with five thousand men : but instead of being joined, as he had expected, by a large number of malcontents, he found the soldiers marching with zeal to oppose him, and the inhabitants 19 N 146 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. taking arms on all sides. He soon found it advisable to retreat to Elizabethtown Point, opposite Staten Island. While he was at this place, Clinton returned from his victorious career at the south, and inniiediately despatched a reinforcement to Knyphausen, who now advanced to Springfield. Here a sharp skirmish occurred between him and an hiferior body of Americans, under General Greene. The latter were repulsed, on which Knyphausen burned the town. But the resistance he had met, convincing him that the hopes he had formed were illusive, he retired the next day for New York. The error into which he fell on the occasion of this mutiny, had been a common one with the royal Generals during the war, who persisted in judging of America as they would* of Europe: and hence were continually expecting that the depreciation of the currency, the increasing discontent among the army, and the inevitable subsidence of the popular enthusiasm, would give them eventually an easy conquest. The intelligence of the fall of Charleston, which reached the north before the end of May, spread gloom and terror through camp and Congress. Fortunately, however, an event soon occurred which [)artially restored confidence. This was the return of the Marquis La Fayette from France, with the intelligence that a French land and naval force was on its way to America. Accordingly, in July, a fleet of ten armed ships accompanied by thirty-six transports, and six thousand soldiers, arrived at Rhode Island. They brought infor- mation that a second fleet, with more troops, was expected soon to sail from the harbor of Brest. The fleet was commanded by the Chevalier de Terney : the army by the Count de Rochambeau. A general enthusiasm succeeded their arrival, and a vigorous campaign against the British posts was projected. To compliment the French, Washington recommended to his ofiicers to place a white relief on the American cockade. In the midst of these sanguine hopes, how- ever, the news arrived, that the transports, with the second portion of the French army, was blockaded in Brest : and in an instant all the visions of a brilliant campaign vanished, the forces of Rocham- beau and Washington being too small to begin oflensive operations with any prospect of success. In the meantime, however, the American General lost no opportunity of propitiating his allies. Conferences were also held as to the best plan of conducting the war. Washington had met Terney and Rochambeau at Hartford, in Connecticut, for this purpose, on the 21st of September, 1780, when, during his absence, a conspiracy for betraying West Point to the enemy was discovered, and fortunately frustrated. The plot TREASON OF ARNOLD. 147 came so near success, however, that its failure ahnost appears the result of a direct interposition of Providence, West Point was the key to the Highlands, and considered impreg- nable. It guarded the communication between the eastern and middle states, and hence, as well as on account of its convenience as a central depot, had been chosen as the depository of immense stores. Its possession, in more than one respect, therefore, would be advan- tageous to the British : and might even be the cause of total ruin to the American arms. The traitor who proposed to surrender it to Clinton, was the same Arnold, of whose headlong bravery at Quebec and Saratoga we have already spoken. This General had, like many others, scarcely received his deserts from Congress ; but instead of emulating the patriotism of Schuyler, he resolved on a plan of revenge. Accordingly, a year before, and while in com- mand of Philadelphia, he had opened, under an assumed name, a correspondence with Clinton. In Philadelphia, he married a Miss Shippen, a young, gay, and beautiful woman, of habits even more extravagant than his own, and of political principles directly opposed to those which the wife of an American Major General would be presumed to possess. Indulging in an expensive style of living, he soon began to want means : to obtain these, he engaged in priva- teering, which proved unsuccessful. At last, harassed by his debts, he resorted to fraud and peculation, to conceal which he exhibited false accounts against the government. The result was, a refusal to allow his demands. This excited him to some very reprehensible acts and words against the public and Congress. These produced a court-martial on charges preferred by the Gover- nor of Pennsylvania. By this body he was sentenced to be reprimanded by the Commander-in-chief, and the sentence was car- ried into execution. The proud soul of Arnold burned at this indignity, and he resolved on a signal vengeance ; but, concealing his" base designs, he applied for the command of West Point. After some solicitation Washing- ton, who had always considered him an efficient officer, yielded to his request, Arnold now immediately resumed his correspondence with Clinton, and proceeded so vigorously in his treasonable pur- poses, that a price was soon agreed on between him and the British General for the surrender of the post. The absence of Washington, at Hartford, was chosen as a suitable time for the infamous act. It being necessary, however, to arrange some preliminaries, Major Andre, Adjutant General of the British army, a young, amiable and accomplished officer, was despatched by Clinton to hold a private 148 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. interview with Arnold, without the American Hnes. Andre ascended the Hudson in the Vulture sloop of war, and the parties met, at the house of a Mr. Smith, on the 21st of September, 1780, but daybreak surprising them, in the midst of their conversation, it became neces- sary for Andre to remain until the evening ; and during the interval he was concealed, of necessity, within the American lines. At night the boatman who had brought him off, refused to carry him back to the Vulture, that vessel having dropped down the river durhig the CAPTURE OF MAJOR AXBRE. preceding day, to avoid an American battery on shore. Andre now attempted to make his way to New York by land, to facilitate which purpose, Arnold furnished him with a pass, under the assumed name of John Anderson. Andre passed the American lines in safety, but was stopped on the second day of his journey, almost within sight of the British posts, by three militia men. It is probable that ordinary tact would have sufficed to quiet their suspicions, and pre- vent further molestation ; but, losing his presence of mind, he suf- fered himself to reveal his rank and nation, before learning that of his interrogators ; and then, on discovering his mistake, he offered such extravagant remuneration for his release, that the suspicions of his captors were still more fully excited. On searchin? Andre's person, his papers were found in his boot. These were in Arnold's hand writing, and contained a description of the defences at West DEATH OF MAJOR ANDRE. 149 Point, with an estimate of the number of men required to man them. On detecting these documents, the miUtia men conducted him to Colonel Jameson, their commandant, the superior officer of all the scouting parties of militia employed on the lines. Here Andre asked leave to write a note to Arnold, in which, under his assumed name of Anderson, he informed the traitor of his own arrest ; intelligence so timely to Arnold, that, on receiving it, he called his barge, and rowed at once to the Vulture. Having despatched this note to his confederate, Andre wrote and forwarded a letter to Washington. He signed this with his real name, enclosing the papers captured on his person, and endeavoring to prove that he had not come as a spy within the American lines. Meantime Washington, little suspecting this foul treason, had returned from Hartford and crossed to West Point. Not finding Arnold there, he re-crossed to head-quarters, and here received Andre's letter. The cause of Arnold's disappear- ance was now explained. But forty-eight hours had elapsed since the arrest of Andre, and it was now too late to overtake the traitor, who, by this time, was on his way, safely in the Vulture, to New York. At first Washington was confounded by the intelligence of Ar- nold's treason, not knowing to what extent its ramifications spread. A board of officers was immediately appointed to try Andre as a spy. Among the members of this board were Steuben and La Fayette, both chosen because foreigners, to give a greater apparent impartiality abroad to the decision of the court. Andre was found guilty on his own confession, disdaining, like a gallant soldier, to make use of any quibble. The judges compassionated the unfortu- nate young man, and shed tears while they awarded the doom required by the laws of war. He was sentenced to be hung as a spy. Clinton, who loved Andre almost as a brother, made the most strenuous exertions to save his friend's life : he wrote to Washing- ton ; he solicited a conference ; he threatened retaliations of the most wholesale character in Carolina. But all was in vain. The unhappy victim was told to prepare for his death. In this awful crisis, he deported himself with the courage of a soldier, and reproved his servant for the emotion he betrayed. His only request was that he might be shot. To this Washington could not consent, consistently with his duty to his country : and, out of delicacy, declined to answer the request : though he wept at his inability to spare Andre this ignominious pain. On beholding the terrible machinery provided for his execution, tlie hapless young man, who had indulged a hope that his petition would be granted, shrank back, and exclaimed, N* 150 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. " must I die in this manner ?" But immediately recovering himself. he added, " it will be but a momentary pang," and marched firmly forwards. Just before he suffered, he requested all to witness that he died like a brave man, and then, stepping lightly into the cart, endured his sentence, amid the tears and sobs of the spectators. Friend and foe have since united to deplore his untimely, though necessary fate. Yet, by a strange fallacy, the similar catastrophe that befel Captain Hale, of the American army, has been almost overlooked, and the sympathy that should have been divided among both, been exhausted on Andre. The one sleeps in a humble grave, almost forgotten by his countrymen ; the other long since was disin- terred and placed with martial pomp in the sacred gloom of West- minster Abbey, The subsequent career of Arnold forms an appropriate conclusion to this melancholy tale. He received the wages of his treason, and was given a command in the British army ; but honorable men shrank from his society, and wherever he went he was regarded as the murderer of Andre. He had the assurance to appear at court, but was insulted in the very presence of the King, At last he threw up his commission in disgust, and coming to Nova Scotia, resumed his old profession of a merchant. He died universally execrated, as well by the nation he had served, as by the one he had betrayed. In October, 1780, Clinton despatched three thousand troops under General Leslie, to Virginia, where he was ordered to co-operate with Cornwallis, who was expected there by this period. He remained in Virginia but a short time, having received orders from Cornwallis to join him at Charleston, Here he arrived in time to unite with that officer in the pursuit of Greene through North Caro- lina, as we have before narrated. In the meantime, and while Greene was engaged in his masterly retreat, the American army at the north lay at Morristown, enduring all the rigors of the season, ill-fed and scantily clothed. Though there had been a plentiful harvest, the want of money in camp, rendered it almost impossible for Washing- ton to supply the soldiers with food : and recourse was had again to forced contributions. At this crisis, a mutiny broke out in the Pennsylvania line, the soldiers of which declared that they were retained after their terms of enlistment expired. Thirteen hundred of these men paraded under arms, on the night of the 1st of Janu- ary, 1781, and declared their intention to march on Philadelphia, and demand justice from Congress, at the point of the bayonet. Their oflicers attempted to quell the insubordination, but failed : and m the effort, one otficer was killed and several wounded. As Gene CONTINENTAL MONEY. 151 ral Wayne possessed great popularity among the mutineers, he was sent by Washington to exhort them to return to duty. But he, too, was unsuccessful. He even threatened to shoot the ringleaders, but they earnestly besought him not to force them to harm him : solemnly declaring their resolution to be unalterable to have their wrongs redresssed. They selected temporary officers, accordingly, and marched to Princeton, on their way to the capital. But here they were met by a deputation from Congress, who finally etiected a compromise with them. Much as we may deplore the mutiny of these men, we cannot but own that, like the mutineers of the Connecticut line, the year before, they had great cause for complaint. Nor were they less firm than the former mutineers in their patriot- ism, for when Clinton, hearing of their revolt, sent emissaries to seduce them to his ranks, they delivered the spies to Wayne to be hung. They appear to have been goaded by the neglect and injus- tice of Congress to tur^ their arms against that body ; but never to have swerved in their devotion to the country. Their misguided conduct, however, might have led to the total ruin of the cause of independence. The nation felt this, and when, shortly after, a part of the Jersey line, infected by their pernicious example, broke out into revolt, stringent measures were adopted, and the mutiny being put down, the ringleaders were executed. As these disturbances were owing chiefly to the neglect of pay, this is the proper place to enter on the subject of the continental money, the depreciation of which had led to the inability of the federal government to liquidate its obligations to the army. Years had now passed since many of the soldiers had received a cent from Congress, and those who were paid, obtained their dues only in a depreciated currency. The financial condition of the country had been indeed on the verge of ruin for more than two campaigns. The cause for this was, that Congress had never provided any real fund for the expenses of the war. At the beginning of the contest, some of the bolder spirits had proposed raising a revenue by taxa- tion ; but as this was the very difficulty about which the colonists were quarrelling with Great Britain, it was thought wisest to waive this subject for the present. A loan was the next available resource : but who would lend to revolted colonies ? As a last resort, Congress issued bills of credit, for the payment of which, the faith of the con- federated states was pledged. The first emission was to the amouat of two millions, and took place in June, 1775: this was followed, in the succeeding month, by the issue of another million. At this period of the war, it was generally supposed that an accommodation 152 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. Six ^jr)0.t£JhA§^ T^HISRilletitillcjtt.c SIX SP.VNKH MILLED DOLLARS, or ilie Va(iirth»r«o/ inCOLD OrSILVER-uccortintflo ai?eiolii«iciTi of COA''^ GRE,V5tuU„Wat Phi- ladelphia Nni- IJ^Q • SIX DOLLARS CONTINENTAL MONEY. would speedily be arranged, and accordingly the bills circulated at par, and were readily taken. But when, in consequence of the con- tract entered into by England with Germany, to procure foreign mercenaries, it was thought necessary by Congress to extend the plan of defence, more and more bills were emitted, the issue extend- ing through the months of February, May, and July, 1776. By the close of this year there were twenty millions in circulation. Up to this period, the bills had suffered no depreciation, but the successes of the British began to alarm prudent traders, as well as large capitalists, and though the victory at Trenton re-animated the hopes of the patriots, yet it did not preserve the credit of the paper currency. A long war was seen to be inevitable, and in consequence, the bills fell. The depreciation at first was gradual, but as the contest grew pro- tracted, and more bills were thrown on the market, the depreciation progressed at an alarming ratio. This depreciation began at differ- ent periods in different states, and extended not only to the conti- nental paper, but to the bills of a like character issued by the different states. The decline commenced early in the year 1777 ; and before the close of the year had reached two or three for one. In 177S, the depreciation rose to five or six for one : in 1779, twenty- seven or twenty-eight for one : in the early part of 1780, fifty or sixty for one, and towards its close, one hundred and fifty for one. VARIOUS PLANS FOR RAISING A REVENUE. 153 By this time many would not take the paper on any terms. In 1 781 the depreciation reached several hundreds for one, and the circula- tion, even at this rate, was so partial that, from this period, the hills may be said to have disappeared from active use. A terrible crisis had now come in the financial affairs of the country. In the neighborhood of the American army there was no circulating medium of either paper or money, a real want of neces- saries ensued, and in consequence, as we have seen, the Connecticut, and subsequently, the Pennsylvania troops, broke out into mutiny. Congress did not know what remedy to apply for this evil. A legislative body may make paper loans, but cannot create a currency without credit. There was little gold or silver in the country, and what there was, private citizens hoarded. In vain various expedients were resorted to in order to establish a currency, and to check the accelerated depreciation of the continental bills. Unjust and absurd laws had been recommended to the states by Congress, for regulating the prices of labor, manufactures, and all sorts of commodities : for confiscating and selling the estates of tories : and for making legal money a tender in payment of debts. All these laws were, of course, found to be impracticable. Manufacturers ceased to work, when they found that the depreciation of the currency, to which the law affixed a nominal value, far above its real one, no longer re- munerated them. The large number of tory estates thrown on the market necessarily lessened their value. And the law which made the paper money a legal tender, was found in practice only to enable a dishonest debtor to pay his creditor a pound, which was not really worth a pound ; while it reduced to beggary all that large class of annuitants, such as widows, orphans, and aged persons, who had money out at interest and who received only worthless paper instead of their just dues. Fortunately for the country a very beneficial trade sprung up in the year 1780, with the French and Spanish West India islands, which continued through the war, and was the means of introducing much gold and silver into the states. The French army at New- port also disbursed large sums in specie. But these resources were still inadequate to the wants of the community. The army especially suffered. Taxation was resorted to in order to obtain relief, and the diflerent states were called on for quotas of provisions and forage ; but there was a very general prejudice existing against this system of raising a revenue, and many of the quotas were never completely filled. Loans from private individuals were now endea- vored to be negotiated; but Congress met with but little success in 20 154 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. BOBERT MORRIS. this attempt : the patriotism of the few large capitalists being less than their confidence in the government, and the body of the people wanting means. A few, however, of the wealthy merchants came forward to the assistance of Congress, and among the most active of these was Robert Morris, of Philadelphia, who had been placed at the head of the bank, established at his suggestion, the year before. The finances of the confederacy were given into his control, and the public engagements hereafter met in gold and silver. A subsidy of six millions of livres was obtained from the King of France, and that monarch became security for ten millions more borrowed in the Netherlands. On the whole, the financial condition of the coimtry, under the skilful measures now adopted, began to improve ; but there was more than one crisis yet before the end of the war : and one of tiiese came so near rendering the expedition against Cornvval ACTION OFF CATK HKNItV\ 15.5 lis al)ortiv(^, llwil l)iil lor llic liiiidy :iiriv;il of llw specif; rciiiitt(!(l iVom tJio (•(Hilt, of Kiiiiicc, il is probable! ihc Iriiimpbs ol" Yorktowii would never have been ac.liiiived. The British ministry liad loni,' loreseeu the approac[i of this financial tempest, and luid ind(!ed pro- tracted the contest, hoi)ing to avail thems(!lve.s of its aid. It :ipp(sirs little short of a direct interposition of Providence to Ixiliold (Ik; country saved in this extremity. IJut to ntturn to the thntad of our narrative. The hcginning of (ii ripple. No inspiring sound of fife was heard, except at rare inter- vals, in those disordered ranks •' no glorious roll of drums ; no stir- ring blast of trumpets. The exhilaration of spirit was all on the side of the colonists. Dejected and crest-fallen, the British hurried on; exulting and triumphant, the patriots pursued. It was as if the whole country had risen, with horn and hound, to chase to his lair some long dreaded wolf, who now, sullen and cowed at last, pressed desperately on, glad even to escape with life. The assaults of the colonists were not conducted after any regular method : indeed, there was no leader in the field to direct and unite their movements. They fought each in his own manner, or in squads, as at Monterey. Now a bold horseman would gallop up within gun-shot of the fugitives, and deliberately taking aim, fire : then, wheeling his horse, would retire to re-load, when he would renew the attack. Now a few provincials would conceal themselves behind some hedge or out-house, on the flank of the foe, and, as the British passed, the whole line, in succession, would blaze on the enemy. To add to the tumult, the royal troops, in revenge for acts like these, began to fire the dwellings on their flank ; and frequently the homeless mother, with her babes, was seen flying, through the horrors of the battle, to seek shelter behind the hills. At this, the exasperation of the colonists deepened to fury. The church bells clanged louder and faster. Those, who at first, from age or debility, had looked on in quiet, seized whatever offensive weapon was nearest to hand, and hurried to the strife. Old men came running, their white hairs streaming in the wind : boys, catching the enthusi- asm of manhood, loaded the muskets they could scarcely carry. Some galloped along the highway ; some over the fields. Every lane that debouched into the main-road, yielded its quota to the bat- tle. As the fugitives saw all this, as they beheld the circle of their foes narrowing around them, their hearts began to fail, and only the stern words of their leaders roused them to hurry on. At times, indeed, stung to savage fury, they turned, gnashing, but vainly, on the foe. The roar of the pursuing multitude grew louder every instant. It was no longer a retreat, it was a flight. Major Pitcairn, conspicuous by his uniform, and alarmed for his life, abandoned his horse, and on foot, hid himself among his men. The British troops at last reached Lexington, where, fortunately, they met Lord Percy, who had hastened from Boston, with eight hun- dred men, and two pieces of cannon, to their relief. The united force of the royal troops was sufl^iciently imposing to check the pur- suit for a while : and accordingly a halt was ordered, in order to JOSEPH WARREN. 215 refresh the fugitives, and allow them to take dinner. But the colo- nists continued gathering in such dark and ominous masses on the elevations around, that before two hours had elapsed, Lord Percy- thought it advisable to proceed. The moment he set his troops in motion, the assailants, hovering on the rear and flank, resumed their offensive operations. Their superior knowledge of the roads enabled them to annoy the flying enemy at every turn : while, wherever a stone wall, or other covert afforded shelter, they lay in ambush with their deadly rifles. It was at West Cambridge, after the junction between Small and Lord Percy, that Warren first joined the fight. He was at this place, in attendance on the Committee of Safety, but hearing the sound of the approaching battle, he rushed from the Assembly, seized a musket, and, in company with General Heath, dashed into the foremost fray. No one, to have seen him then, would ever have supposed he was so calm and sage in council. Raging in the very front of the fight, his fine face glowing with enthusiasm, he became speedily a mark for the enemy's muskets, and more than one ball narrowly missed him. At last a bullet, more accurate than usual, cut oft' the long, close curl, which, in the fashion of the day, he wore above his ear ; but even this could not intimidate him, or induce him to expose his person less rashly ; he continued thundering at the head of the pursuit, until the enemy reached Charlestown Neck, Here the chase was necessarily abandoned. The colonists drew oft": and the British, fatigued and famished, threw themselves on the bare ground, on Bunker Hill, where, pro- tected by the guns of a royal frigate, they slept secure. The next day they pursued their march into Boston. Events now hurried after each other in rapid succession. The Massachussetts Congress, the very next day, resolved that thirty thousand men were wanted for the defence of New England ; that, of this number Massachusetts would furnish thirteen thousand six hundred, and that the other colonies be requested to supply the balance. The same body drew up regulations for this army, and voted an issue of paper money. The people rose with alacrity in answer to this call. The old Generals of the French war came forth from their retreats, and hurried to join their younger companions in arms. Putnam left his plough in Connecticut, and within twenty- four hours was at Cambridge. Stark hastened down with his New Hampshire volunteers. Gridley threw up his pension, and joined the patriots. Before the middle of June, an army of fifteen thousand men had assembled around Boston, which they proceeded regularly to invest, establishing a line of redoubts from Cambridge to Roxbury, 216 THE HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. a circuit of nearly twelve miles. On the 21st of May, General Ward had been commissioned as Commander-in-chief of the Massachussetts forces. He fixed his head-quarters at Cambridge. Putnam, though really independent of him, tacitly consented to act as his subordinate. He lay, with a portion of the Connecticut troops, at Inman's farm, in advance of the main body, near the Charlestown road. Brigadier- General Thomas commanded at Roxbury. Among the other leading officers in camp, not already mentioned, were General Pomeroy and Colonel Prescott, both heroes of the old French war. The concentration of the provincial army around the peninsula of Boston, naturally suggested to General Gage the idea of occupying Charlestown Heights. We shall explain the benefit of this more fully, when we come to recur to the subject in the life of Putnam. It was instantly proposed, in the council of war, to anticipate General Gage ; and, on this proposition, an animated debate ensued. There was, at that time, only eleven barrels of powder in the camp, and but sixty-seven within the state of Massachussetts : and, as the seizure of Charlestown Heights would probably bring on a battle, many considered this stock of ammunition too small. Among these was Warren. Putnam and Prescott, but especially the former, advised the bolder, not to say less prudent plan : and their arguments backed by the influence of their acknowledged experience, carried the day. It was fortunate that, in this solitary instance, the advice of Warren was disregarded. Had the attempt been postponed, it could never have been made at all ; and we should thus have been without one of the most glorious events in our history. Technically speaking, the Americans were defeated at Bunker Hill, but the defeat was of such a character as to answer all the purposes of a victory. In justice to Warren, we must add that the repulse occurred from the want of powder, as he had foretold. On the 14th of June, three days before this remarkable battle, Warren received a commission as Major-General from the provin- cial Congress. On the 16th, he was at Watertown, presiding over that august body. The whole of that night, the last he was to live, he spent in transacting public business. At daylight, on the 17th, he rode to Cambridge, where he arrived, suffering under a severe head-ache, which compelled him to retire for repose. He was soon awakened, however, by information that the British were moving to attack Bunker Hill. He rose instantly, declared his head-ache gone, and hastened to the meeting of the Committee of Safety, of which he was Chairman. Here he expressed his determination to join per- sonally in the fight. He was urged not to expose himself thus. " I JOSEPH WARREN. 217 know that I may fall," replied Warren, " but where is the man who does not think it glorious and delightful to die for his country." When the Committee adjourned, he called for his horse, sprang into the saddle, and galloped towards Charlestown. Both armies were breathlessly awaiting the signal for attack, when a solitary horseman dashed across Charlestown Neck, regardless of the fire of the shipping directed towards that point, and was seen advancing at full speed upon the American hues. As he crossed Bunker Hill, General Put- nam, who was there erecting a redoubt, rode forward. '' General Warren," he exclaimed, " can this be you ? I rejoice and regret to see you. Your life is too precious to be exposed in this battle ; but since you are here, I take your orders." " Not so," replied Warren, "I come only as a volunteer. Tell me where I can be useful." " Go then to the redoubt," said Putnam, "you will there be cov- ered." " I came not to be covered," answered Warren, " tell me where the peril is — where the action will be hottest." " To the redoubt then," cried Putnam, waving his hand. Warren dashed spurs into his horse's sides, and shot like an arrow, on his way. He sped down the slight acclivity of Bunker's Hill, across the inter- vening depression, and up Breed's Hill, where his person was recog- nised with long and loud huzzas as he galloped along the line. At the redoubt he found Colonel Prescott, before whom he checked his foaming steed. The Colonel hastened forward, and offered to take his orders. " No," said Warren, springing from the saddle, " give me yours : I come as a volunteer ; give me a musket. I am here to take a lesson of a veteran soldier in the art of war." The heroic character of Warren was evinced in all his actions on that day. He had been opposed, as we have seen, to the battle, from motives of prudence : but the moment the conflict became ine- vitable, he dismissed every consideration except that of participating in it with glory. The time for the exercise of discretion had passed : the moment for valorous action had come. He knew that much depended on the manner in which the leaders behaved; and he was resolved that no one should say he remained at home in safety, while others were bleeding in the fight. Throughout the whole of that day he bore himself among the bravest — his voice and example encou- raging the troops. When the retreat was ordered, as if loath to leave, he lingered behind. He had been marked out conspicuously by his conduct, and as he was slowly retiring, at the distance of only a few rods, an English officer snatched a musket from a soldier, and taking deliberate aim, shot him through the head. He fell weltering in blood. General Howe, at this time, was not far off, leaning on the arm of Colonel Small, having been lamed by a spent ball striking 28 T 218 THE HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. his ankle. Seeing Warren sink to the earth, he said to Colonel Small, " Do you see that elegant young man who has just fallen ?" " Good God, sir," replied Small, " I believe it is my friend Warren." " Leave me, then, instantly," said Howe, " run — keep off the troops — save him, if possible." Small flew to the spot. When he arrived, a provincial was supporting Warren's head. " My dear friend," cried Small, kneeling anxiously down, " I hope you are not hurt." The dying hero faintly opened his eyes, looked up into the speaker's face, and smiling, as if in recognition, died. Thus fell Warren, the first martyr of the Revolution, at the age of thirty -four. His death was regarded as so important that the British General considered the war as virtually at an end in consequence. Some writers have regretted that he died prematurely for his fame ; as he was fitted to play a prominent part in the drama just opening. Yet his was a glorious death. His memory is enshrined in the hearts of his countrymen, and history has placed him among the noble company of patriots and martyrs whose renown is eternal. Warren left four children, two sons and two daughters : his wife had already preceded him to the grave. The continental Congress took on itself the education of his eldest son. The other children, were, for a time, assisted by Arnold, until Congress provided for them also. The sons both died soon after reaching the age of maturity. The daughters married ; but one of them only has left posterity. %^f2\ f WM 1 ISRAEL PUTNAM. SRAEL Put- nam, a Major- General in the continental ar- my, was one of the most daring spirits of the Re- vokition. He had not the compre- hensive mind re- quired for a great strategist; but in leading a column to the storm, or in any emergen- cy requiring indomitable valor, possessed no rival. He needed some one to plan, but he was a Paladin to execute. His name was almost miraculous. Other military leaders distinguished themselves in bat- tle ; Putnam was the battle itself. ».. H 219 220 THE HEROES OF THE REVOLUTIOX. Israel Putnam was born at Salem, Massachusetts, on the 7th day of January, 1718. He received but little education, and displayed no peculiar taste for learning. He was chiefly remarkable, as a boy, for boldness, independence and courage. The first time he visited Boston he was jeered for his rusticity by a lad twice his size. Put- nam attacked and soundly threshed his insulter. As he grew up he became distinguished for feats of personal skill and strength : and in leaping, running and wrestling had no superiors. In 1739, he mar- ried, and shortly after emigrated to Pomfret, Connecticut, where he engaged in farming, at first under many disadvantages, but finally with profit. It was about this period that he pursued and shot, in her cave, the she-wolf which had so long been a terror to the neigh- borhood : a story familiar to every school boy, and which we only refer to here, in order to shew the adventurous and daring spirit of Putnam. When the French war broke out his ardent genius found vent in a higher sphere. He was appointed to command a company raised in Connecticut in 1755, to operate in the expedition against Crown Point; and in 1757, was elevated to the rank of Major, his services having been considered so important as to deserve this compliment. Numerous anecdotes are told of his presence of mind, and romantic escapes during the several campaigns in which he took a part. It was at Putnam's side that the lamented Lord Howe fell, on the 6th of July, 1758. On one occasion Putnam was captured by the savages, who proceeded, in their inhuman way, to torture him to death. He was already stripped naked and tied to the stake ; the fire had been kindled ; and the Indians were dancing and yelling around in fiendish delight, when a French officer rushed in, scattered the blazing brands, and unbinding the victim, carried him in safety to his quarters. He was subsequently conducted to Montreal, where he arrived almost without clothes, his body torn by briars, his face gashed by the tomahawk, and his whole appearance miserable and squalid to the last degree. Colonel Peter Schuyler Avas then at INIontreal, a prisoner also. He was indignant at this treatment to- wards Putnam, clothed him, procured his reception as became his rank, and afterwards obtained his exchange. In 1759, Putnam, who had been raised to the rank of Lieutenant- Colonel, accompanied General Amherst in the latter's expedition against Ticonderoga and Crown Point. In this campaign he proved of the greatest service, by his ingenuity no less than by his courage. At one time he proposed to reduce the enemy's squadron on Lake Champlain by attacking each ship in a batteau, and driving a wedge between the rudder and stern, by which to render the vessel unma- ISRAEL PUTNAM. 221 EUIXS OF OLD FORT TICONDEROGA nageable ; but, just as the assault was about to begin, the ships sur- rendered. In 1762, he went to Cuba, at the head of a regiment, to assist in the attack on Havana. Here he was shipwrecked ; but, through his presence of mind the troops were saved. In 1764, having been raised to the ranli of a Colonel, he marched against the western Indians ; but the campaign gave him no opportunity to signalize himself, and on the treaty in the ensuing year, Putnam returned home, after having been engaged in military life nearly ten years. He carried with him into his retirement, one of the best reputations as an officer in the colonies. He boasted little military knowledge except such as was the result of experience ; but he had ingenuity, energy and courage, qualities which education could not give. His bravery was of no common kind. The stormier the battle grew, the more fearless he became : the deadlier the crisis, the cooler his self- possession. It was said of him already, that he " dared to lead where any dared to follow." In no other man, from his section of the provinces, had the soldiers equal confidence in a desperate strife. His towering form was like a banner to them through the cloud and smoke of battle. 822 THE HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. When the difficulties between the mother country and the colonies begun, Putnam was looked up to for counsel, and at once, took sides with the provinces. He was one of the foremost actors in the popu- lar demonstration which compelled the collectors of stamps, in Con- necticut, to relinquish their offices. Throughout the whole atl'air, his decision and energy were prominent. Minds like his, always rally the masses around them in threatening times, and each year added to the influence of Putnam. He frequently visited Boston, where he was familiarly known to the royal officers, many of whom had served with him during the French war. On one occasion, he was asked what he would do, if the dispute should end in hostilities. " I will stand by my country," stoutly replied Putnam. An officer happening to say triumphantly, that an army of five thousand vete- rans might march from one end of the continent to the other. " No doubt," replied Putnam, " if they conducted themselves properly, and paid for what they wanted : but, should they attempt it in a hostile manner, the American women would brain them with their ladles." Putnam was quietly ploughing in his field, nearly a hundred miles from the field of Lexington, when a horseman, carrying a drum, galloped up and announced the news of the massacre. Instantly the old hero was on fire. He unyoked his team, sprang on one of the horses, and telling his little son, who was with him, to go home and acquaint Mrs. Putnam whither he had gone, dashed ofi" on the road to Boston, where he arrived in less than twenty-four hours. On the 21st, two days after the battle, he attended a council of war at Cambridge : then, at the summons of the Legislature of Connecticut, he flew back to that state ; and in less than a week, having raised three thousand troops, and accepted the commission of Brigadier- General, was once more at head-quarters, having traversed the country, in the discharge of his several missions, with arapidity that resembled that of some wild meteor. At Cambridge, he was first in command of the Connecticut recruits. His position, when the besieging army had taken its ground, was in the advance at Lnnan's Farm, on the Charlestown road. It was while thus beleaguering Boston, that Putnam received the ofter of a Major-General's commission, besides a large pecuniary recompense, provided he would abandon the cause of the colonists, and join the British side. The bribe was indignantly spurned. Meantime a month had passed since the provincial army had assem- bled for the siege, and nothing effective had been done, though skirmishes were occasionally occurring between detachments on both sides. Putnam became impatient for action. His soul was one of ISRAEL PUTNAM. 223 those tlial fretted at inactivity : he longed to strike some hlow that should terrify the enemy, and inspire the Americans. An opportu- nity was not long wanting. General Gage, it was discovered by spies, was about to fortify the entrance to the peninsula of Charles- town ; and, to prevent this, even at the risk of a battle, at once became Putnam's secret design. The peninsula of Charlestown is rather more than a mile in length, from east to west, and two-thirds of a mile in breadth, from north to south. It is washed on the north by the Mystic River, and on the south by the Charles, the two rivers approaching within a hun- dred yards of each other at the neck of the peninsula. A narrow channel divides it from Boston, on the east. Bunker Hill begins at the Neck, and rises to the height of above a hundred feet : then, declining towards the east, runs along the shore of the Mystic, par- allel to Breed's Hill. This last begins near the southern extremity of Bunker, and rising to the height of eighty-seven feet, extends to the south and east, the two summits being about one hundred and thirty rods apart. To the east and north of Breed's Hill the ground was low and marshy. Charlestown lay on the south side of the hill, and had already begun to extend up its slope. Morton's Point, where the Navy Yard now is, formed the north-eastern extremity of the peninsula. The peninsula was traversed by a road, wTiich, crossing Bunker Hill, swept around Breed's, approaching very near the summit of the latter, on the southern side. The object of Gage, in seizing Bunker Hill, was to fortify the entrance of Charlestown peninsula, both for his own security, and as a vantage ground, from which to dislodge the Americans from their entrenchments. A council of war was called in the provincial camp on receiving intelligence of his contemplated movement. Putnam and Pomeroy advocated the seizure of the hill, by a portion of their own force, to prevent the English from obtaining it: Ward and Warren opposed the measure, as calculated to bring on an engagement, for which they did not believe the American army prepared. Their chief argument was the' scarcity of powder. But Putnam was anxious for a fight. The scene, in that coun- cil, was a memorable one. "We will risk only two thousand men," said he, "and if driven to retreat, every stone-wall shall be lined with dead. If surrounded, and escape cut off, we shall set our country an example of which it shall not be ashamed, and teach mercenaries what men can do, who are determined to live or die free." At these stirring words, Warren, who had been walking the floor, stopped and said, " Almost thou per- suadest me. General Putnam : still the project is rash ; yet, if you ;i2l THE HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. go, be not surprised to find me at your side." " I hope not," said Putnam, earnestly, laying his hand on his young associate's shoulder, " let us who are old and can be spared, begin the fray. There will be time enough for you hereafter, for it will not soon be over." The bolder counsel of Putnam, aided by his enthusiasm, prevailed ; and when the council broke up, it had been resolved to seize and fortify Bunker Hill. It was after twilight, on the 16th of June, 1775, that the detach- ment, selected for this enterprise, left Cambridge, and took its way, in silence and darkness, across the Neck into the peninsula. It was necessary to move with caution, for two men-of-war lay in Charles River, commanding the Neck. Colonel Prescott, who had charge of the expedition, led the way, attended by two sergeants carrying dark lanterns. Arrived at Bunker Hill, a consultation was held as to whether it would be best to fortify that height, or advance to Breed's Hill, which was nearer Boston. It was finally determined to erect the principal works on the latter place, and construct a smaller redoubt in the rear, on Bunker Hill. This resolution was in consequence of Putnam's counsel, who, all through the prelim- inary transactions, evidently labored to render a battle inevitable. All through that night the provincials labored incessantly, and when morning broke, their work was well advanced. No suspicion of what was going on meantime had reached the city. Silence reigned in the deserted streets of Boston, and th(? sentry, as he went his rounds, distinguished no unusual noises. At last the sun, rising through the haze on the eastern horizon, shot his lurid rays along the summit of Breed's Hill ; and to the astonishment of the sentries, the beams were reflected back from a long line of glittering steel. Instantly the American fortification stood revealed ! The discovery was first made on board a British sloop-of-war, which promptly fired an alarm gun. This was replied to by the Somerset frigate, from the more immediate vicinity of the fortification. Instantly, all Boston was aroused by the unusual sounds. The rumor of their cause soon spread. TRe people and soldiery, crowding to the North End, could scarcely believe what tliey saw, the redoubt and its brave occupiers appearing as if they had risen by enchantment in the night. But the enemy lost no time in idle wonder. The shipping at once opened their fire on the entrenchments, and soon the battery at Copp's Hill, Boston, began to play. Bombs were seen, black and threatening, traversing the sky : shot richochetted along the sides of Breed's : and the thunder of continual explosions shook the windows of the city, and echoed oil' among the neighboring hills. ISRAEL PUTNAM. 225 Putnam had left the detachment, immediately after midnight, and returned to his quarters ; but, at the first sound of the cannon, he galloped to the scene of action. Here, it was proposed by some, to send to camp for a relief; but Prescott urged that the men who raised the works were best entitled to the honor of defending them. He consented, however, to despatch a messenger to General Ward for refreshments. Putnam, perceiving, from the bustle in Boston, how imposing a force was mustering to the attack, hurried back to camp, thinking his presence might carry influence with it, and begged the Conmiander-in-chief to reinforce the redoubt. But Gene- ral Ward was convinced that the enemy intended to attack the main army, and hence refused. He would not even allow the troops of Putnam to follow their leader. Putnam himself, however, could not be restrained. He remained at Inman's farm only long enough to be satisfied that the enemy did not contemplate a landing at that posi- tion, and then, flinging himself on his horse, dashed off' towards Bunker Hill, his blood quickening as he approached the scene of action, and the cannonade seemed to grow louder and more inces- sant. Putnam now labored to throw up a redoubt on Bunker Hill, while Prescott, with the larger detachment, worked assiduously on that at Breed's. At this latter place a redoubt, eight rods square, was erected; while a breastwork extended, from its north-eastern angle, in a northerly direction, to the marshy ground, or slough, in that quarter. Just as the battle was about to begin, the American line of defence, at Putnam's suggestion, was extended from the slough across the ridge to the Mystic River, by the erection of two parallel rail fences, filled up between with new made hay. Mean- time, Prescott applied again to General Ward for reinforcements. Putnam, too, finding the crisis approaching, galloped once more to head-quarters ; this time, it is said, in his shirt-sleeves, for he was too excited to think of his coat, which he had cast off" to assist his men. Aid at last was granted, the designs of the enemy no longer being doubtful. He was absent but a short period, and soon hurried back to Bun- ker Hill, where he remained, busily animating the men. Prescott, in the main fortification, equally encouraged to assiduity. The redoubt was now nearly finished. As the provincials rested a mo- ment on their spades and looked off towards the neighboring country, they witnessed a spectacle which fired each patriotic bosom anew. It was now the height of the summer solstice. Far away, the quiet farm-houses, amid their waving fields, slept in the sultry noon-tide. 29 226 THE HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. Here and there, in the laps of the hills, stood the white churches, their spires peeping out above the elms that shaded New England's ancestral graves. How peaceful the prospect — yet how inspiriting its associations ! Changing the direction of the eye, and looking towards the south, Boston, with her thousand troops, was seen beneath. An ominous buzz floated up from her streets, as if the whole population was in motion, above which at intervals rose the blare of trumpets, the shriller note of the fife, and the rumbling of artillery wagons. Whole companies of troops were already mustered along the wharves as if in readiness to be embarked. The cannon, from the shipping, thundered continually. This spectacle might have moved stouter hearts, but it struck no terror to the provincials, who labored silently on. Noon passed, yet they still toiled on. Since they had left Cambridge the night before, not a morsel of food had passed their Hps ; and now one o'clock was come ; yet they still toiled on. Shells exploded, and cannon balls ploughed up the earth around ; yet they toiled on. One of their comrades fell ; they buried him where he died ; — and toiled on. There was something stern and terrible in such demeanor. No shouts rent the air ; no martial music cheered their task ; no time-hallowed banner waved above their heads : — there was nothing of the usual accompaniments of war to excite and madden their imaginations ! But there were other things as spirit-stirring ; for, as they looked ofi" towards the mainland, they could see the dim walls of their homes; and almost fancy they beheld, gazing on, their wives, their sires, or the mothers that gave them milk. All over the surrounding hills were groups gathered in anx- ious expectation; while, in Boston, crowds lined the wharves, hung on the roofs, or looked down from the church steeples. Not a cloud obscured the sky. It was a panorama such as the world has never seen since. Noon had scarcely passed, when the British, to the number of three thousand men, with three pieces of artillery, landed at Mor- ton's Point, under command of General Howe. The field pieces of the enemy immediately began to play, and were answered, for a while, by some cannon from the redoubt ; but these soon becoming useless, were carried to the rear. Meantime Warren had arrived on the field, and shortly after him General Pomeroy : both these well known patriots were received with cheers as they rode along the line. The men were in the highest spirits. Putnam remained working at his redoubt on Bunker Hill, until towards three o'clock, when it became evident the enemy were about to advance. Then he has- ISRAEL PUTNAM. 227 BATTLE OF BLNKER HILL. tened to Breed's Hill, where he rode along the line, his presence increasing, if that were possible, the enthusiasm of the men. It was a splendid spectacle, all cotemporary witnesses agree, that of the British army, as it advanced to the attack. It seemed as if a single volley from it would annihilate the Americans. The proud step of the grenadiers ; their lofty height ; their glittering arms ; and the exulting bursts of music which accompanied their march realized all that had ever been imagined of the might and panoply of war. The men came on in columns, their artillery playing in the advance. As the imposing array moved, through the long grass, up the hill, the provincials, manning their entrenchments, stood anxiously await- ing the crisis. Few of them had ever been in action before. Their best weapons were muskets without bayonets : not a few had only rusty firelocks. Doubtless many a stout yeoman's bosom throbbed that day with terrible suspense. Putnam, Prescott and Pomeroy passed among the men encouraging and instructing them. " Do not fire until you can see their waistbands," said Putnam. " Take a steady aim and have a care not to throw away your balls." 228 THE HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION, The enemy advanced slowly, stopping to let his artillery pla}^, and afterwards stepping quicker and discharging volley after volley. The thousands of spectators in Boston and elsewhere, seeing no return made to this fire, fancied the provincials were paralyzed with fear. Nearer, still nearer, the grenadiers approached, and now were close upon the redoubt. Suddenly a gush of flame streamed from one end of the entrenchment, and ran swiftly along the American line, until the whole front was a blaze of fire : a white cloud of smoke shot forward, concealing the assailants from sight : a rattling sound, sharp and incessant, followed : and then, after a breathless pause of sus- pense, which may have continued ten or even twenty seconds, for in that thrilling interval no one thought of time, the British army emerged in disorder from the smoke, and was seen, in full retreat, recoiling down the hill. Just as the British turned to fly, a form leaped up on the parapet, and a voice cried tauntingly after one of the fugitives who was known to have sneered at American bravery, " Colonel Abercrombie, do you call the Yankees cowards, now ?" The provincials had conquered. The spectators drew a long breath. But suddenly, and almost before their exhilaration had time to spread, a scene met their view which changed those feelings of triumph into horror and hate. Charlestown, the home of many of them, lying directly at the foot of Breed's Hill, was discovered to be in flames. Sir William Howe had ordered it to be set on fire while he made his preparations for a second attack. Soon the raging element was in full play. The flames caught rapidly from house to house, rolling volumes of smoke to the sky. Their crackling sound smote incessantly on the ear. As the conflagration spread, it reached the church, up whose lofty spire the subtle essence ran, and streamed far above the vane, a pillar of fire. Sparks were hurried up in mil- lions, accompanied by burning fragments, starring with gold the black canopy that now hung over the city. The warehouses began to explode their combustible materials. Women were seen aban- doning their houses, glad to escape alive with their children. The bells rung out in alarm ; shrieks and other sounds of tumult arose ; while over all was heard the deep roar of the conflagration, wild and terrible as when a hurricane is devastating forests. Each instant the fury of the raging destroyer increased. The houses, built mostly of wood, flashed into flames like powder before the approaching conflagration, and the lurid element, surging across the streets, over- whelmed new tenements, tossing its fiery crests and plunging head- long on, like some burning and devouring ocean. In the meantime, reinforcements from Cambridge had arrived at ISRAEL, PUTNAM. 229 the Neck ; but the enemy's shipping had resumed the cannonade ; and gusts of fiery sleet drove incessantly across the narrow isthmus. The troops drew back. Putnam, who had hurried from the entrench- ments to bring up assistance, was almost beside himself at this hesitation. He dashed through the hurricane of balls, and calling the men to follow him, re-crossed the isthmus. But they remained unmoved. Once more he passed the Neck. He exhorted, he im- plored the troops ; he even walked his horse across the isthmus ; he stood still, while the shot threw the earth up all around him. But neither his entreaties, his reproaches, nor the haughty scorn of dan- ger he exhibited, could move the men : a few only crossed ; and stung to madness by his failure, he turned and hurried passionately back to the fight. He arrived just in season to participate in the second repulse of the British; for Howe, having rallied his troops, was now advancing again to the assault. This time the patriots waited until the enemy had arrived within six rods ; when they delivered a fire, even more murderous than the first. The British again recoiled. In vain their officers strove to rally them : the volleys of the excited provincials followed in rapid succession : and at last the whole assailing army, grenadiers and infantry pell-mell, rushed in disorder to their boats. The slaughter had been terrific. Of one company it was found that five, of another only fourteen had escaped. Most of the officers were down. It was during this assault that an incident occurred, that, for a moment, relieved the horrors of the fight. Among the enemy Putnam recognised an old friend and fellow soldier, Major Small, and recognised him just in time to save his life, by striking up a musket levelled at him. Poetical as this occurrence seems, it is established on the best testimony, and is, moreover, eminently characteristic of Putnam. Sir Henry Chnton, perceiving the desperate character of the fight, had, meantime, hastened from Boston to Howe's assistance ; and, with some difficulty, the troops were rallied once more, and led to the attack. This time the soldiers were ordered to throw away their knapsacks, reserve their fire, and trust to the bayonet. Howe had now discovered, also, the vulnerable point of the Americans ; and pushing forward his artillery to the opening between the breast- work and redoubt, was enabled to enfilade the whole of the provin- cial line. He, moreover, abandoned the attack on the rail fence, concentrating his whole force on the redoubt. To resist these preparations, the Americans had not even their former means. They were now reduced to their last extremity. Their ammunition u 230 THE HEROES OF THE REVOLUTION. was exhausted ; bayonets, they had none ; Putnam, with tears of mortification, had returned from his unavaiUng effort to bring up reinforcements. Nothing was left but to retreat, or repel the enemy with the butts of their muskets, or with stones. Having reached the works, the foremost of the British attempted to scale them. A private mounted first. He was shot down at once with one of tiie few remaining charges of ammunition. Major Pitcairn followed him. " The day is ours !" he cried, waving his sword, as he leaped on the parapet. The words had scarcely left his lips, when he, too, fell, mortally wounded. General Pigot next made the attempt to enter the works. Pie was the first man who succeeded. The British now came pouring in on all sides. The Americans, however, still held out. Clubbing their muskets, they fought with desperate valor, or gave ground slowly and sullenly. At last Prescott ordered a retreat. The American right first fell back, and after it the left. Putnam followed the retiring troops, indignant and enraged : making a vain eftbrt to induce them to stand again on Bunker Hill. Find- ing this impossible, he remained behind to cover their retreat. Coming to a deserted field-piece, he dismovmted, and, taking his post by it, seemed resolved to brave the foe alone. One man only dared remain with him, who was soon shot down. Putnam did not retire until the British bayonets were close upon him. He then followed the retreating troops, who fell back, in good order, across the Neck, and took post at Bunker Hill. Night fell on the scene of battle, but did not bring repose. The British, as if fearful of an attack from the colonists, kept up an in- cessant fire of shot and shells, in the direction of Cambridge. As the gloom deepened, the spectacle became terrifically sublime. Bombs crossed and re-crossed in the air, leaving fiery trails like comets : the thunder of cannon echoed among the hills, and shook the solid shores ; lights were seen flashing up and down in Boston, and far and wide over the neighboring country ; while, as if to crown this terrific day, the smouldering embers of Charlestown illuminated the horizon in that direction, and poured upwards thick volumes of smoke, which, gradually extending, blotted star after star from the heavens. Terrible omen of the years of war to come ! It was a night of alarm and vague foreboding, as the day had been of horror and blood. The moral eftect of this battle, especially in England, was almost incredible. But the truth is, that men there had been accustomed to regard the inhabitants of the colonies in the same light they did the peasantry of the continent, as a timorous, ignorant race, poor, ISRAEL PUTNAM. 231 without leaders, awe-struck before authority : and in this opinion they had been confirmed by the representations sent home from per- sons in authority, as well as by the statements made in Parliament by cowards like Grant, who remembered the colonies only as places where their insolence had been chastised. In consequence, when it was told abroad, that two or three thousand of these despised peasants had virtually defeated four thousand well appointed British troops, with a loss to the latter of nearly one-third of their number, astonishment and admiration took the place of contempt. Horace Walpole alluded to the conflict almost with glee, overlooking all considerations of country in sympathy for the Americans. At the Court of Versailles the intelligence was received with secret exulta- tion, and France, lifting her dishonored head, dreamed of revenge for the loss of Canada. Putnam was unquestionably the hero of Bunker Hill. Much has been written to dispute his claim to this high merit ; but, even ad- mitting all the assertions of his enemies, their facts prove nothing. It is not now pretended that Putnam held any authorized command on the field ; his real post was at Inman's Farm ; but he seems to have hurried, in the restlessness of his spirit, from one place to another, until the battle really begun, when he flew to Breed's Hill, and fought on the American left. Here, as durhig his occasional presence in the preceding hours, his reputation, his energetic spirit, and the fact of his being the highest officer in rank present, gave him an authority which, wherever he went, was paramount for the time. He seems, however, not to have interfered with Prescott, who was the real Commander-in-chief, and who fought on the right. But, as it was in consequence of Putnam's counsels that the battle was brought on, so, during the strife, and in the retreat, he was the presiding spirit of the day. Whether galloping to head-quarters for reinforce- ments, or assisting his men to throw up the redoubt on Bunker Hill, or hurrying along the line telling the provincials to reserve their fire, or dashing backwards and forwards over the isthmus to persuade the recruits to cross, or standing alone before that solitary cannon, in the retreat, brandishing his sword passionately against a thousand British bayonets, it is still Putnam whom we meet, the Achilles of the fight, or, to change the simile, the lurid comet of the scene, blazing hither and thither, wilder and wilder every moment, until we lose sight of everything else in watching its fiery progress. On the second of July, little over two weeks after the battle. Gen- eral Washington arrived at Cambridge, having been elected Com- mander-in-chief, by Congress, of the American army. The troops 'I'lii; iii;ui)i;s or tiik isKVoi.r tidn. wcir now |)l;ift>(l on the coiiliiKMital cstaltlisliiiicnl ; iind J'lilnnm wns one ol" 1 1 If lirsl lour MMJor-dfiicrals coniinissionrd. lie early actiuircd I he cstrcm nrWasliin^loii, w'lio, in a IcUcr to I lie I' resident or('on^!;ress, .speaks ol Inni, w nil a wonderlul iusii;ln, considering dieir short aecjnainlanee, as "a niosl valuable man, and line execaitive ollifer." Wlicn it was conn'mplaled lo assanll Hoslon, (o I'ulnani was assigned ihe eoniniand of lour dionsand troo|>s, who were to land in the west part of the l(»\\ii, and lorein^- their way uj) the Neck towards l\o\l)nr\, join the troops who were to enter I'rom that direelion. In the summer of I 77(), when (h'ueral (Ireene, Jusl heror<' the hallle of Loni; Island, was takcMi sick, \\ ashini;ton selected Putnam to till his post ; nor are the mislortnnes ot' the day l<» I"' attrihuted Justly n> him, the little time inter\ cnini; hetween his assinnption ol" the command and the hallle, not allowinij, leisure lo make himsell' acipiainted with the uround. A lew s oirutiiam. I'\)r chi\al- rnus (larim;, he had no cipial anioim the L;('ueral ollicers, at that limiMU the AuKMicau army. Me reminds ns lorcihly of some of Napoleon's Marshals, Mural, Ney or MacD^onald. 'Terrihle in the cliari;e, like an avalanche, he carried everything hefore liim ! W'Ikmi he rushed upon the foe, linn indeed was the front that could resist him: uencrally it sank, crumhliiii;, us when tlic liglitiiini; smites the solid rock. Durini,' Ihe various opiMalions that followed on the Hudson, and lhroui;h the melancholy retreat across th(> Jerseys, I'ntnam w^•ls at \\'asliiiiL;loirs side, faithl'ul and energetic, when so many waxcred or were careless. To I'ntnam was delegated the command of Phila- delphia, in thai t'carfnl crisis, when the enemy was hourly expected to advance on the capital. In .lannary, 1777, he was sent to Prince- Ion, where he remained until spriiii;. In ^hly lu> was assii^ned the ronnnand of a se|)aral(> army in the Highlands of tlie state of New York. 'IMiis was an impoitant i)osl, for it was the season when Hur^oync was advancini;- from Ihe Canadas. In October, Sir Henry ('linton iM-oce(>(|ed up Ihe I Indson, landiim at \'erplank's Point. On his approach Putnam retired ti> the lii^li i^roimds in his rear. Tlu! next morning, concealed by the [\yj;, a portion {>{' the Ihitish crossi-d I S It A I : I, I'll IN AM, 2'.i'.i llic Iliidsoii lo Sloiiy l*r>iiil ;iii(l |»usli<'i| on lo T'orls MoiilL'oiniTy ;iti(l (Million. Molli llicsc |>l;uTS \vi'\t: Jiss-iiillcd :il niic(! ;iii(l I'rll : on lic.uiii;^ wIikIi, IMiIm.iiii (^viiciiiilrd l''ort,s IikIi'Ix'MiIcik'c- jukI (IoiinIi- liilioii, rcliiiiiL!; to KisliMII. 'I'lic coiiiiii.iikI oI'IIh! river vv;is now lost. Hill, III ;i I'rw (lnys, Sir Henry (!liiiioii, lie.uin^' of Hin^oyne's siu- r(;ii(ler, ;il),iii(lone(| his ;ulv;iiil.i^(ts und rle|e|y ,i ppreheinhiifj; the or