E J'Tfc Pei\iv5ylvArvi\^ocidy ^oivjoffKel^Volvh'on "Ghe Camp on the Neshaminy Class E I "^ 5 I)()ok___Jjl4_ PRESENTED BY /'?, V) »- cc H III (O 1- fi cc 3 < < 3 a o < UJ I CO z O 1- o z I CO < ^ ©tjp (H^mp on t\}t N^stjaming AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE PENNSYLVANIA SOCIETY OF SONS OF THE REVOLUTION AT WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS ON THE LITTLE NESHAMINY BUCKS COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA June 20, 1903 BY CHARLES HENRY JONES CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF MANAGERS d putal. 1T77-The Camp on the Neshaminy-1903 My Fellow-Members of the Sons of the Revolution. We have come out to this historic ground to show our interest in the movements of the Revolution; to note its progress, and to famiharize ourselves with its incidents and details; to gather such inspiration as we can from this venerated place, which is full of associations of the deepest interest to us, because over these hillsides and fields the main bod}^ of the Continental army, under Washington, was twice encamped, first on the night of July 31, 1777, and afterward for two weeks, from August 10 to August 23, 1777 — a longer time than it was encamped at any other place in Pennsylvania, with the exception of Whitemarsh and Valley Forge. Our presence to-day, in this place, where they spread their tents, makes us mindful of what they were; of the stern stuff out of which they were made; of the high aims that actuated them; of their patriotism, of which their conduct furnished the highest example; of what they were willing to suffer to uphold ther principle of human liberty, which was dearer to them than their lives; of what they were willing to sacrifice to maintain for themselves and their posterity that freedom of thought and action, those fundamental principles of self-government which they had inherited from the early pioneers who crossed the seas, a century before, to escape oppression. We are not always mindful of these things. It is well for us to recall them here. This place was not selected because it was a strong position. No entrenchments were thrown up. It was simply an encamp- ment, with no enemy near, or expected, where the Continental army, bewildered by the movements of General Howe, awaited the development of events. It is a beautiful spot as you see it to-day, with green meadows and a refreshing stream, in a rich and prosperous agricultural (3) country, remote and peaceful, in which this weary arm}^ after its long, hot and dusty march, was glad to rest. This region was settled by the Scotch-Irish as early as 1726, and was among the first and most noted of those settlements. Their descendants were staunch supporters of the cause of inde- pendence, and the army found itself in the midst of zealous friends here. One of those early settlers, who died before the Revolution, was William Miller, a founder of Neshaminy Church, who gave to it part of the graveyard, where the first church stood. Two of his descendants are members of this Society. Another was James Wallace, part of whose land, west of the York Road, was occupied by the camp, and one of whose de- scendants is a member of this Society. He was among the most prominent advocates of the cause in Bucks County; member of the local Committee of Safety; member of the Provincial Councils that met in Carpenters' Hall in 1774 and 1776, and Judge of the Courts of the county under the Constitution of 1776. One of the descendants of these strong people, who was born here, was Rev. Daniel McCalla, scholar, graduate of Prince- ton, and Chaplain of the First Pennsylvania Battalion of the Continental Line, who was taken prisoner at Three Rivers. From the other side of Carr's Hill, came Colonel William Baxter, of the " Flying Camp," who was killed at the battle of Fort Wash- ington, November 16, 1776. The camp was called "Cross-Roads" and "Neshaminy Bridge," the first because the Old York Road and the road from Bristol to the northward (two old roads that were laid out before 171 1) crossed each other half a mile south of the Head- quarters; and the other after the old stone bridge that then spanned the creek. Washington also called it, sometimes, "Neshaminy Camp." The events which transpired here were commonplace and without interest in themselves. They are only made inter- esting by the immortal names with which they are associated, and because they have a place among the greater evfents which go before and follow after them in that epoch-marking period in the history of the world. This was a lull before the storm. Clouds were gathering at the North and at the South. The makers of the greatest empire the world has ever seen were waiting here for the storm to break. They were not only the soldiers who were fighting the battles that made the existence of this nation possible. Among them were also the statesmen, who afterward helped to lay the civic foundations of its greatness. This house was the tempo- rary home of the man who presided over the convention that framed the Constitution of the United States; who, as its first President, organized the government, and started it on its long career of prosperity. With him, as Aide-de-Camp, with the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel, was Alexander Hamilton, then only a youth of twenty, who was afterward, during its formative period, one of the country's greatest statesmen. On this hill- side was the tent of John Marshall, Captain of infantry in Maxwell's Brigade, who was afterward the great Chief Justice and expounder of the Constitution, at whose burial, sixty years later, the Liberty Bell was sounded for the last time. Near the "Cross- Roads" below, were the quarters of James Monroe, Major on the staff of Lord Stirling, another of the country's greatest statesmen, who, as its fifth President, promulgated the great American doctrine that bears his name. We, who, but a century later, are permitted to see the mag- nificent structure which time, and those who followed their example, have reared upon the foundations laid by them, may form some estimate of the wisdom which guided them, and the hopes and aspirations which sustained them, as they struggled on, with their slender resources, against almost insurmountable obstacles, until their work was done, and the end accomplished. The military movements of the year 1777 began at Princeton, and ended at Valley Forge. It was, in many respects, the most memorable year of the Revolution. It holds the cherished names of Princeton, Bennington, Brandywine, Paoli, German- town, Saratoga, Whitemarsh and Valley Forge. There is not such a cluster of names to be found in any other year of the Revolution. It was a year of more bloodshed, and perhaps of greater suffering. The British army was commanded by Sir William Howe. He on one side, and Washington on the other, had commanded the contending armies of the Revolution ever since the siege of Boston. One historian speaks of it as "the most arduous and eventful year of Washington's military life; 6 one of the most trying to his character and fortunes." With it the military career of Sir William Howe came to a close. He was not unlike Washington in appearance, tall, well-propor- tioned, dignified, courteous, and popular with his army. As opposing leaders in a great cause they had measured their strength with each other, and the British Ministry was not satisfied with the result; and so Sir William Howe passed from the scene. The situation was not improved by the appointment of Sir Henry Clinton as his successor. When the campaign of 1777 opened, the war had been in progress for two years. At the expiration of that time the British, who had undertaken the task of subjugating the Colonies, occupied no greater portion of them than the City of New York and the territory in its immediate vicinity. They had no foothold anywhere else. The British Ministry, there- fore, had determined to see if they could not accomplish greater results with reinforcements, and more energetic measures. The plan of campaign, as mapped out by them, seems plain to us, though it was the source of much perplexity to our ancestors. Burgoyne was to come down from the North, and separate the Eastern from the Southern Colonies. Sir William Howe was to capture Philadelphia. They tried both, accomplished nothing and lost much. The campaign was a complete failure. Bur- goyne surrendered at Saratoga, and though Howe took Phila- delphia, he nearly lost it at Germantown, and it was voluntarily evacuated by Sir Henry Clinton in the following June. It is this event we celebrate here to-day. At the end of another year — in the fall of 1778 — the situation was unchanged. Wash- ington was back in his old camp at Morristown, and the British army, under Sir Henry Clinton, was confined again to the City of New York and its vicinity — just where both armies had been two years before, when the campaign of 1777 opened. The situation was practically the same in the winter of 17 78-1 7 79 that it had been in the winter of 1776-1777 — with this important difference, the British had lost one of their best equipped and most important armies (and by that misfortune had hastened the consummation of the treaty of alliance with France), and had suffered a virtual defeat at Monmouth. When the spring of 1777 opened, Washington's army was in the hills of Morristown. The British army, under Sir William Howe, was at Brunswick and Amboy, twenty miles below, and Burgoyne was in Canada. Washington's army was reduced to about 3,000 men, composed of the thin ranks of six or seven Continental regiments, and small bodies of New Jersey and Pennsylvania militia, upon whom little reliance could be placed. They were poorly officered and poorly equipped. Many of the officers were absent. As late as June, Arnold, who was in command at Philadelphia, reproached the great number of officers who were there, and ordered them to rejoin the army at once. There ^ d been great extremes of public feeling in Pennsyl- vania and New Jersey within the year. When Washington's army was fleeing across New Jersey, in November, 1776, the alarm and despondency of the patriots amounted almost to a panic. The Loyalists were elated and complacent; Congress made Washington military dictator, and fled precipitately to Baltimore. With Washington's brilliant successes in New Jersey, which followed, came a reaction of confidence, apathy, and supineness, and his army was now feeling the effect of it. The main body of the militia had gone to their homes after the victory at Princeton. The enlistments in the old Continental regiments, which were only for a year, had expired, and enlist- ments to fill up the Continental regiments under the new arrangement, which went into effect in January, were proceeding very slowly. The early enthusiasm of the war had subsided, and' the people were now confronted with its sober realities. Graydon, who visited Washington's camp at this time, says: "I had been extremely anxious to see our army. Here it was, but I could see nothing that deserved the name." The British army that was lying in front of it consisted of ten thousand well-uniformed, well-armed, well-officered, well-disciplined men. It was no wonder Washington was in a constant state of dread and anxiety lest they should discover his weakness. "Nothing but their ignorance of our numbers protects us at this very time," he wrote to Governor Trumbull of Connecticut. But, fortunately, this was not a season of military activity. The winter was long, and the cold intense. General Howe and his officers were passing it comfortably in New York. Sir Henry 8 Clinton had gone to England, and did not return until July. Washington, who had been ill, was administering the limited hospitalities of his camp at Morristown, assisted by Mrs. Wash- ington. General Howe had written to Lord George Germain in January that he intended, as soon as the season would permit, to penetrate into Pennsylvania with his main army, across New Jersey, but he was delayed in attempting this movement by the lines of determined men who held the hills at Morristown. His brother, Lord Howe, who was to support him with the navy, sent one James Molesworth to Philadelphia in March to procure pilots who were familiar with the channel of the Dela- ware. It was not a difficult matter, at that time, to pass from New York to Philadelphia through the lines of the armies. Molesworth lodged at Mrs. Yarnall's, on Chestnut street, and carried on his negotiations with the pilots at the house of a Mrs. McKay on Union street. The bargain was made and the money paid, but these pilots, whose names were Eldridge, Higgons and Snyder, proved to be patriots, and the conference ended in Molesworth's arrest. He was hanged a few days after- wards as a spy. The failure to get these pilots may have had some influence upon General Howe in his selection, later, of the route to Philadelphia, by the Chesapeake. As the season advanced, Washington received substantial reinforcements, and finding Howe very dilatory in his move- ments, he advanced his army to a strong position at Middle- brook, fifteen miles further south, on the Raritan River. General Howe, who was fully aware of the great superiority of his own army, marched it into the country below as soon as he learned of this movement, in the hope that he might draw Washington into a general engagement, and, by crushing his army, make the way to Philadelphia across New Jersey clear. There was some heavy skirmishing, but Washington was too prudent to leave his strong position and accept this unequal contest. He knew perfectly well that the British army would not dare to march for Philadelphia, and leave his army behind them. Stedman, the English historian, who was an eye-witness of these manoeuvres, writes that Howe "was thoroughly sensible of the impracticability of making an attack on Washington in 9 his present situation, for his camp extended along several hills, and was strongly fortified by intrenchments and artillery. He, therefore, made use of every possible effort to induce Washington to quit his position and hazard an engagement. The American General, however, easily penetrated into the designs of Howe, and eluded them by his cool, collected and prudent conduct." With no little disappointment, Howe now reluctantly aban- doned his plan of moving against Philadelphia across New Jersey. He withdrew all his forces to Amboy, marched them across a pontoon bridge to Staten Island, evacuated New Jersey, and began the embarkation of his army upon the vessels of the fleet that was lying in those waters. This was the second time Washington had frustrated Howe's plans of approaching Philadelphia by the way of New Jersey, but it did not affect Howe's determination to move against that city. When he heard of the fall of Ticonderoga he wrote to Burgoyne from Staten Island wishing him success, and informing him of his intention to go to Pennsylvania, where he expected to meet Washington. Lord George Germain had written to General Howe that if he moved against Philadelphia he hoped he would return in time to cooperate with Burgoyne. The British Ministry did not understand the problem with which they were dealing. If General Howe ever entertained any such thoughts, the impracticability of the plan became clear to him as soon as he was obliged to evacuate New Jersey and take the long route to Philadelphia by the way of the Chesapeake. At that time he made up his mind that he would have to leave Burgoyne to his own fortunes, or to such assistance as he might receive from Sir Henry Clinton, who later pushed up the Hudson and captured Forts Clinton and Montgomery. Lord George Germain's letter did not reach General Howe until after he had entered the Chesapeake, and, of course, it was then too late to change his plans. After that his attention was so completely occupied by Washington that he had no time to think of Burgoyne. From the time Howe put his army on board the fleet at Staten Island until Washington broke camp on the banks of the Neshaminy, Howe's movements were the source of painful con- jecture, uncertainty and anxiety to him. For two months he 10 was in a constant state of perplexity and unrest. Much of this, as we are able to see the situation now, seems to have been unnecessary; but in the fierce light that always beat upon him, in view of the great responsibility that always rested upon him, and of his limited sources of information, we can easily under- stand how such doubts and perplexities were natural. What was to be the destination of that fleet? Washington's belief that Howe's object was Philadelphia still amounted almost to a conviction, but it had long been the cherished object of the British to gain control of the Valley of the Hudson, and cut off all intercourse between the Eastern and Southern Colo- nies. It had been the object of Sir Guy Carleton, when he unsuccessfully besieged Ticonderoga in the fall of 1776. It was the object of Burgoyne in 1777, who was now leading the same army down from the North. Having failed to accomplish it with these armies, the British attempted it later through the treason of Arnold. It was a military object of the greatest importance; of greater importance than Philadelphia. Washington undoubt- edly so considered it. It seemed clearly the policy of Howe to sail up the Hudson and assist Burgoyne, with all his power, in his effort to accomplish this most coveted object, and Wash- ington, very naturally, could not rid his mind of the fear that it might be Howe's intention to do so. There was no indication of it, but the possibility of it raised serious doubts in Washing- ton's mind, and while these doubts were there he felt that he could not safely put either the Highlands of the Hudson or Philadelphia beyond his reach. They were a hundred and fifty miles apart. He had not his enemy's easy means of trans- portation by water at his command. That long distance had to be covered on foot in the sweltering heat of a midsummer's sun. Weighing the possibilities of Howe's destination, and the serious problems it involved, in his mind, Washington took his army back to Morristown. Here he received the depressing and unexpected news of the fall of Ticonderoga. This event gave rise to such forebodings in the mind of Washington, that Philadelphia was lost sight of entirely. Burgoyne having at last succeeded in breaking through the gates of the North, there was no longer any doubt in Washington's mind that the two 11 Howes would attempt to pass the Highlands of the Hudson and cooperate with Burgoyne. Having jumped at this conclusion, Washington, without waiting for Howe's fleet to sail, ordered the army to march toward the Hudson. Then began those long marches and countermarches between the Hudson and Philadelphia, through the shifting conditions of doubt and uncertainty which, from time to time, possessed the minds of Washington and his Generals (often, it would seem, unneces- sarily), and which only ended when the army left the camp on the Neshaminy for the battlefield of Brandywine. Fortunately it was summer, and the roads were smooth, and they did not suffer in their ragged clothing and broken shoes. But it was the clemency of the season alone that protected them, for they were no better clad than they were at Trenton the winter before, or at Valley Forge the winter after. On July 1 1 the army left Morristown, and marched northward through the hill country of New Jersey into Orange County, New York. Washington felt so certain that it was Howe's intention to ascend the Hudson, that he ordered Lord Stirling's division to cross the river to Peekskill, where Sullivan's division was already stationed. Washington at first made his head- quarters at Suffern's Tavern, while the army was encamped in a wild ravine called the Clove. Afterwards, as his forecast of the campaign suggested, he moved his headquarters eleven miles into the Clove, to an old log house called Galloways. Howe's fleet, which had been collecting for two or three days outside the Narrows, put to sea at seven o'clock on the morning of Wednesday, July 23, and sailed in a southeasterly direction before a northwest wind. His army on board this fleet, which had recently been reinforced by fresh English and Hessian troops, consisted of about 18,000 men. When news of this event reached Washington, he felt that his hold upon the Hudson was a little more secure, and his fears for Philadelphia began to revive. He at once requested Congress to station trustworthy lookouts at Cape May, and speedily advise him if the fleet appeared there. "Our situation is already critical," he wrote to Congress, "and may be rendered more so by inaccurate and ill-grounded intelligence." He ordered Sullivan's and Lord Stirling's divisions to recross the Hudson from Peekskill, and 12 proceed toward Philadelphia, and he inoved with his own army, by easy marches, across Northern New Jersey, toward Coryell's Ferry on the Delaware. While on the march an intercepted letter from Howe to Burgoyne fell into Washington's hands, stating that Howe's fleet had sailed for Boston. Washington was not deceived by it. "It was evidently intended to fall into our hands," he wrote to Putnam, "and I am persuaded more than ever that Philadelphia is the place of destination." Sullivan's division, composed of Smallwood's and DeBorre's brigades, was halted at Hanover, New Jersey. On the twenty- eighth of July, Washington, with Greene's and Lincoln's divis- ions, arrived at Coryell's Ferry (now Lambert ville), where the river is deep and rapid, and about four hundred yards wide. Stephen's division arrived at Howell's Ferry (now Stockton), three miles above, and Lord Stirling's division, which had marched by the way of Princeton, arrived at Trenton about the same time. General Lincoln was not in command of his division, having been detailed to the command of militia in the Northern army. At these three places on the east bank of the Delaware, the army waited for further news from the fleet. Washington had not been advised that it had been seen, in the meantime, off Little Egg Harbor, New Jersey, on Sunday the twenty-seventh. He describes the situation, as it impressed him while he was waiting at Coryell's Ferry, as wearing "a dark and gloomy aspect." While the army was thus resting on the east bank of the Delaware, the west bank, with its fords and ferries, was guarded by a part of the Second Pennsylvania Regiment of the Conti- nental Line, and militia from the neighboring country, under General Mifflin. At half-past nine on the morning of the thirty-first, an express arrived at Washington's headquarters from the President of Congress with the news that Howe's fleet, consisting of 228 sail, had been seen off the Capes of the Delaware. The man who carried this news from Cape May to Philadelphia was Abraham Bennett, and he discharged his duty so well that the news reached Washington, one hundred and thirty miles from Cape May, in twenty-two hours after the fleet was seen there. You 13 can picture this man, on that hard, lonely ride through the sands and pines of New Jersey, on that hot day and night, faithfully bearing news which he felt was of vital import to his country. Washington being anxious about the defences of the Delaware, and expecting the fleet to arrive there at any time, hastened on to Philadelphia ahead of the army, and arrived there at ten o'clock that night. There was a heavy fog off the Capes on the 26th, 27th and 28th; after that the weather was clear, but the fleet did not appear until eleven o'clock on the morning of the 30th. It remained in sight for about a day and a half. Twice during that time it could have entered the bay without difficulty before favorable winds. But General Howe had no intention of ascending the Delaware. Nothing that occurred at the Capes during his brief stay could have affected his plans in the slightest degree. He had no communication with the shore. If he had wished to enter the bay and sail up the river, there was nothing to prevent him, unless it was the want of pilots. The wind was favorable, and the way was clear. He could have landed much nearer Philadelphia, and saved much time, by the way of the Delaware, but for some reason, which has not been explained, he determined, before he left Sandy Hook, to go by the way of the Chesapeake. He sailed down the coast and was seen off Egg Harbor, Cape May, Sinepuxent, and the Capes of the Chesapeake; nowhere else. He could know nothing of the movements of Washington's army until he reached his destina- tion. Yet Washington at no time believed that the Chesapeake was Howe's destination. Howe's fleet was a very large and cumbersome one. He may have selected the Chesapeake because he failed to get his Delaware pilots, or, it may have been because the Delaware river and bay are full of shoals and very difficult to navigate, while the Chesapeake is comparatively simple, being practically one clear channel from shore to shore. It is as difficult now to understand his motives as it is to explain why he was so long in getting away from Sandy Hook, and why he took three weeks, at the best season of the year, to make a voyage of 300 miles, that he might easily have made in five days. Another explanation is found in the advice given to General Howe and his brother, by General Charles Lee, while 14 the latter was a prisoner in New York. Lee made an exag- gerated statement to the Howes of the strength of the loyal sentiment in Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia, and he assured them that these three States could easily be pacified if they established themselves firmly at Annapolis, Alexandria and Philadelphia. His views seem to have convinced the Howes that this was of vastly more importance than the pos- session of the Hudson. The plan he suggested was for Howe to march with his main army across New Jersey, take Philadelphia, and send troops around by the Chesapeake to occupy Annapolis and Alexandria. As Howe found it impossible to cross New Jersey, he may have determined to carry out this whole plan by the way of the Chesapeake. On the day following his arrival in Philadelphia, Washington met Lafayette, who had just arrived from France by the way of Charleston, and invited him to become a member of his military family at camp. Together they spent the day in inspecting Fort Mifflin, Red Bank, and Billingsport, and went on to Marcus Hook and Chester. At ten o'clock that night, while at the latter place, Washington was much surprised to learn that the fleet had disappeared from the Capes of the Delaware in an easterly direction. What had seemed to be a solution of the military problem that had recently given him so much concern, had now been dissipated. All his painful uncertainty of mind as to the meaning of Howe's movements returned. "This surprising event," he wrote, "gives me the greatest anxiety." Was it Howe's intention, after all, to return to the support of Burgoyne? Had this movement of the fleet only been a feint to weary and exhaust his army? Was Howe bound still further South with the intention of drawing his army after him to a point from which it would be impossible to return, in time to defend the Hudson? Of these two alternative pos- sibilities, Washington selected the former. From Chester he ordered Sullivan, whom he had left at Hanover, to countermarch his division to the Hudson with all possible expedition. "There is strong reason to believe," he wrote to him, "that the North River is their object, and that they will make a rapid push to obtain possession of our posts there." He also wrote a letter to General Putnam, later, from the Neshaminy, which shows 15 that he adhered to this opinion until he was stopped at this camp by the news that the fleet had been seen off Sinepuxent Inlet. After Washington left the army at Coryell's Ferry, the divisions of Greene, Stephen, Lincoln and Stirling immediately crossed the Delaware into Pennsylvania, and Greene's, Stephen's and Lincoln's divisions marched down the Old York Road fifteen miles to the valley of the little Neshaminy, where we now are. Here they camped for the night. Lord Stirling's division crossed at Trenton and marched by another route. At six o'clock on Friday morning, August i, the army resunied its march down the Old York Road to the camp at the Falls of Schuylkill, where the Queen Lane Reservoir now stands. Here Washington, who had spent Saturday and Sunday in Philadelphia, rejoined the army on the 4th. At this camp they waited impatiently four days longer, for further intelligence, and as none came, Washington made up his mind that there was no probability of the fleet's return. He began to feel very uneasy so far out of reach of the Hudson, and he felt too that the proximity of the city was demoralizing to the army; so he determined to countermarch to the Delaware. "We have no further account of the enemy's fleet," he wrote to John Augus- tine Washington, "and therefore, concluding that they are gone to the eastward, we have again turned our faces that way and shall move slow till we get some account of it." The waggoners with the heavy baggage of all brigades had been ordered to proceed to Coryell's Ferry, cross the Delaware, and wait on the other side for further orders. The month of August was uni- formly and intensely hot. As the army had no definite object in view, and as the weather was oppressive, it marched north- ward slowly, and by easy stages on the 8th. The officers were not familiar with the roads of Pennsylvania. There were no maps worthy of the name. At Washington's request, the Executive Council had prepared one for his use in this campaign, but it was made hurriedly and was inaccurate and misleading. We find the army, therefore, marching out of its way through Germantown and Chestnut Hill to Whitemarsh, where it bivouacked for the night. Next day (the 9th) it changed its direction to the eastward and encamped again in Upper Dublin 16 Township. In the cool of the afternoon of Saturday, the loth, the march was resumed leisurely toward Coryell's Ferry. At nine o'clock that night, when the advance had gotten as far as the Neshan:iiny, it was overtaken by an express from Congress with the information that the fleet had been seen off Sinepuxent Inlet, fifty miles south of Delaware Bay, on Thursday, August 7. Upon the receipt of this information, the army was halted, and pitched its tents, or such of them as it had, for 1,700 intended for this army had been captured by the British in the recent affair at Danbury, Connecticut. That is how the army came to encamp on the Neshaminy, and that is how this camp came to be the pivot upon which the campaign turned. "The troops are encamped near the road," wrote Washington to the President of Congress on the loth, "where they will remain till I have further accounts of the fleet." It was the same place in which they had encamped while going the other way, on the evening of July 31. We will leave them there while I call your attention, for a few minutes, to the state of affairs then existing in Pennsylvania. As soon as the new government was organized under the State Constitution of 1776, a law was adopted requiring all citizens to take an oath of allegiance to it. It was called the "test law," and was distasteful to large numbers of the people. Many refused to take the oath because they were still firm in their allegiance to the King and would not renounce it. Others took it reluctantly. Others, who had openly cast their lot with the patriots, thought it was unnecessary, and put it off from time to time. So tardy were the people in taking this oath that the appointment of minor officers in some of the counties was delayed, because there were not enough qualified persons to fill the places. A militia law was also enacted. This law provided for the enrollment of all citizens between the ages of eighteen and fifty- three, and for the enlistment of substitutes to fill the places of all those who refused to march within three days after they were called out. Efforts were made, through the lieutenants and sub-lieutenants of the counties, to arrange the militia into classes and organize them, but this task was found to be by no means an easy one. 17 The functions of the new government do not seem to have been performed in any of its branches with that energy which the exigencies of the times demanded. Congress declared by formal resolutions that the Executive authority of Pennsylvania was "incapable of any exertion adequate to the present crisis," and that "it was impracticable to carry into execution many measures of the utmost importance" because the Assembly and the Executive Council did not perform their duties. They even went so far as to request the President of the Council, and others, to assume arbitrary control of affairs, and the people were asked to submit to their authority. The Continental Congress and the Supreme Executive Council of Pennsylvania were in session at Philadelphia. The Assembly also sat there for a few weeks in May and June, often without a quorum, and had adjourned until the 3d of September. When the British army, at Amboy and Brunswick, began to show signs of life in the spring of 1777, the authorities at Phila- delphia were afraid General Howe would again attempt to cross New Jersey and capture Philadelphia. Thomas Wharton, Jr., President of the Executive Council, strongly urged the people, in a proclamation, to prepare for this danger. This was followed by some excitement. The militia of the neighborhood was hurried to the west bank of the Delaware, and Benedict Arnold was placed in command. This excitement entirely subsided when it was learned that Howe had evacuated New Jersey and embarked his army on board the fleet, and that the Continental army had marched to the Hudsoit. It was rekindled, however, with renewed strength, when it was learned that Howe's fleet had put to sea, and Washington's army was marching toward the Delaware. Three trustworthy men were sent, at Washing- ton's request, to watch for the fleet at Cape May. Large numbers of people left Philadelphia (which was then a small town of 22,000 inhabitants, included within Callowhill, South and Seventh streets, and the Delaware River), and filled up the smaller towns and country houses in the interior. Active steps were taken to put the forts on the Delaware, below Philadelphia, in good condition. Surveying parties were sent down the Dela- ware to survey the ground on both sides of the river, where the enemy would be likely to land. Committees were appointed to 18 drive all cattle and other livestock into the interior. Leaden spouts were taken down from the houses to be melted into bullets. Bells were removed from the churches. Horses were collected for the artillery. Committees were appointed to search for and take an account of all grain and flour in the neighborhood. Farmers were kept busy threshing out the grain, and the mills in grinding it. Wool was scarce. All material rose in value. Wages were doubled. The price of all the necessaries of life became so exorbitant that it was made the subject of a communication by Washington to Congress from this camp. All the unsettled conditions of war were severely felt, aggravated by serious internal dissensions. Blankets and clothing were collected for the army and the militia. Where they could not be purchased, they were impressed — taking one blanket for every bed there was in a house. At the request of General Mifflin, the constables of the townships were ordered to collect from the farmers, and send to Philadelphia, hundreds of four-horse wagons, in consequence of which the ground, in many districts, was left unplowed. These wagons were intended for the use of the army and for the removal of stores from the city. Congress called upon Pennsylvania to furnish its full quota for the Continental army, and bounties were offered for enlistments, but they were retarded by the large bounties paid to substitutes in the militia. The militia was called out and placed under the command of Generals Arm- strong, Potter and James Irvine, but though the harvest was over they were very lukewarm, and had to be called out again and again. A great many refused to respond to the call, and of those who turned out many would not bring their arms with them, because they did not believe they would be paid for them if they were lost. Only a thousand militiamen had assembled at Chester, the place selected for their mobilization, by the middle of August. A very large portion of these were substitutes, who had received a bounty of from $50 to $60 apiece for a service of two months. Large sums of money had been paid out of the public treasury for this purpose, and it was one of the reasons assigned why the treasury was empty, and money had to be borrowed again and again from Congress. This was ail very unlike Bennington and Saratoga, where, about the same 19 time, the whole country rose up and crushed the army of Burgoyne. If this same spirit had prevailed here, if the Penn- sylvania militia had fought at Brandywine as they did at Princeton, Howe might have met the fate of Burgoyne there. It is worth while to pause and frankly reflect upon the great disadvantages Washington labored under from this condition of public affairs in this neighborhood. Graydon, who rode through the country from Morristown to Philadelphia ahead of Wash- ington's army, says, in his memoirs, "We saw to our great surprise no military parade on our journey, nor any indication of martial vigor on the part of the country. Here and there we saw a militiaman with his contrasted colored cape and facings, and we found besides that captains, majors and colonels had become cheap in the land. But unfortunately these war functionaries were not found at the head of their men. They more generally figured as bar-keepers." A feeling of great relief was experienced by the community when it was learned that Howe's fleet had sailed away from the Capes of the Delaware, for the wind had been so favorable that their arrival below Philadelphia was hourly expected. There seemed to be a feeling of confidence that the fleet would never return. The Executive Council even went so far as to ask Congress if part of the militia could not now be spared, as it was time to plant the winter wheat. They also seemed so blind to their own peril that they were making an effort to send 750 militia to reinforce the Northern army, and did not revoke the order until they were suddenly awakened later on by the fact that they needed every man they could get, and more too, for their own protection. As more than a year had elapsed since the Declaration of Independence, and the new government was still holding its own, a more decided feeling of confidence prevailed than that of the year before. Congress remained at its post for a week after the defeat at Brandywine, as Washington was still obstruct- ing the way to Philadelphia. Extreme measures were adopted, for the first time, against the Loyalists. The writ of habeas corpus was suspended. The houses of disaffected persons were searched for arms. Persons over eighteen years of age entering or leaving the State, who refused to take the oath of allegiance, 20 were treated as spies, arrested and committed to jail. Almost as much time was consumed in disposing of the Loyalists and disaffected persons as was given to measures of defence. Political prisoners in the jails at Philadelphia were removed to places of greater security. On the recommendation of Congress, John Penn, the last of the Proprietary Governors, and many of the most prominent citizens of the State, were arrested. Some were paroled, others imprisoned, and many were sent into exile to Virginia. Those who declined to take the oath of allegiance were disarmed, and it sometimes required the assistance of the militia to do it. The struggle for independence in Pennsylvania was not marked by that spirit of enthusiasm which comes only when men are all of one mind in the pursuit of some great purpose; that inspires only men moving in great masses. Its delegates in Congress had only voted in favor of Independence by a tardy casting vote. The Pennsylvania patriot, instead of being stimu- lated by the earnestness of his neighbors, and encouraged by their cooperation, was very often chilled by their indifference, restrained by their opposition, or irritated by their want of patriotism. The whole community was unsettled by the most serious division of sentiment. The Loyalists who preferred the dynasty of the King, were numerous and prominent. Among the staunchest of these were the foreigners who had been naturalized in the Province, which required seven years' resi- dence, and the taking of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. The Society of Friends, and the Mennonites, opposed the Revolution from conscientious scruples. The former had always been powerful in the Province. The latter, which was also £ strong sect, resisted the collection of the militia fines with force. There were others, who, though not avowed in their opposition, were captioiis about measures, or indifferent, and there were those who were held in a neutral attitude by the division of sentiment among the people of the State. When Philadelphia was illuminated on the night of July 4, 1777 — the first anni- versary of Independence — it was necessary to patrol the streets and order the lights put out at eleven o'clock, to prevent rioting and disorder. The patriot in Pennsylvania, who manfully upheld the cause amid such difficulties as these, becomes, 21 therefore, a grander figure than he is elsewhere. But this was not all. The patriots were divided among themselves. Some of them allowed their interest in the cause to be weakened by their dissatisfaction with the new State government, which had just been organized. Others allowed their interest to be diverted by local partisan controversies. The political atmosphere was by no means clear. Party feeling ran very high. The change from the old system to the new was so radical that there was room for the widest speculation and difference of opinion as to the plan upon which the new government should be formed. It was quite natural for the drift of popular sentiment to run from one extreme to the other. The subject was a new one. They did not have, as a guide, the plan of government laid out in the Constitution of the United States, which they afterwards followed. The liberal party had just succeeded in establishing a popular form of State government by the adoption of the Constitution of 1776. This Constitution was a very crude instrument and survived only fourteen years. The elections under it resulted in sending to the Assembly men of very different character from those who had composed the old Colonial body. The Conservatives, among whom were many of the most cultured and refined inhabitants, had been willing to compro- mise upon a legislature composed of two bodies with an upper house so constituted that it would be a check upon the more democratic tendencies of the lower body, after the English system, and having failed to obtain even that, they were dis- posed, in their chagrin, to find fault with pretty much everything and everybody. Even Washington and the Generals of the army were not spared. They denounced the new administra- tion as a "mob government." They declared that "power had fallen into low hands." This government was new, and strange, and distasteful to them, and they did not hesitate to repudiate it. It did not impress them with any sense of obligation to respect its authority. They easily found reasons why they should not do so. The spirit of independence that had thrown off the old yoke made them loath to submit their necks to the new, or to recognize the right of others to place it there. They demanded a new Convention, and a year later prevailed upon General Wayne, with his military prestige, to return to Penn- 22 sylvania and help them reconstruct the Constitution, which they declared was the work of only a few scheming men. They proclaimed that the Assembly had not been regularly chosen, and that, therefore, its laws were void; that it had been elected by a lot of soldiers and apprentice boys. This language suffi- ciently indicates the bitterness into which this partisan feeling ran, and the extent to which the cause of independence was weakened by this confusion of interest and dispute about State issues among its friends. This, in brief, was the state of affairs Washington found in Pennsylvania at the time his army was encamped on the Neshaminy. The army that went into camp on the Neshaminy was com- posed of troops from New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia and North Carolina. Its rank and file were chiefly raw recruits that had been gotten together during the spring and summer months. It was divided into seven brigades, com- manded by Brigadier-Generals Maxwell, Wayne, Muhlenberg, Weedon, Woodford, Scott, and Conway. These brigades were formed into four divisions, commanded by Major-Generals Nathaniel Greene, Lord Stirling, Adam Stephen, and Brigadier- General Anthony Wayne, who commanded Lincoln's division. The artillery, which had been enlisted chiefly in Massachusetts, was commanded by General Henry Knox. The cavalry con- sisted of Colonel Stephen Moylan's Pennsylvania Regiment, Colonel Armand's Legion, and Sheldon's, Bland's and Baylor's regiments. The twelve Pennsylvania regiments of the Conti- nental Line were at this camp. The First, Second, Fourth, Fifth, Seventh, Eighth, Tenth and Eleventh were under Wayne's command. The Third, Sixth, Ninth and Twelfth were in Con- way's brigade. According to the impartial testimony of General Conway, they composed "the strong half of the army." It was at a board of general officers held on the 14th in General Greene's tent that the disputed question of rank among the field officers of the Pennsylvania Line was finally settled. The camp lay in the charming valley of the Neshaminy, on both sides of the Old York Road; on the slope of Carr's hill to the north; between the creek and the " Cross- Roads " to the UJ I H Z O CO cc Ul H < Z) a Q < UJ I CO z o H z I CO < 23 south, and on both sides of the Bristol Road, where Lord Stir- Hng's division was encamped. On the south side of this road, in Warminster Township, was the camp of General Conway's brigade, with its four Pennsylvania regiments. A little further to the southeast was the corral where the horses and wagons and the cattle were kept. Here also were the forges of the blacksmiths. A short distance above the York Road, on the north side of the creek, stands the Neshaminy Presbyterian Church, surrounded by its ample close of greensward, and spreading trees. It was used as a hospital, and courts-martial were often held there. Beyond it, on higher ground, is the graveyard, in which soldiers who died at this camp are buried. There are several old buildings near the Headquarters, still standing, in which the general officers of the army made their headquarters. The view from the top of Carr's hill, over the camp and the valley, was an extended and beautiful one. The army, composed of eleven thousand men, spread out below, covered the whole country from the top of this hill to the Bristol Road beyond — a tented city, half the size of Philadelphia. On the corner, as you turned into the York Road this morning, stood the tavern, within the lines of the camp, which was brought into active competition with the sutlers who followed the army, to such an extent that it became necessary for a board of officers to meet there, upon one occasion, to settle the differences between them. This tavern might now be called a "canteen." The troops were abundantly supplied with vege- tables by the surrounding country people. The soldiers built booths before their tents to protect them from the heat. Each brigade set up its bake-oven. Barrels were sunk in the soft ground where spring water was to be found. Precautions were taken against the pollution of the creek. The post office was established near the headquarters, where stationery was sold, and special instructions were given to protect the inhabitants from insult and from injury to themselves and their fences. Lafayette has left a description of this army as it appeared to him at that time. " Eleven thousand men, but tolerabl}'- armed, and still worse clad, presented a singular spectacle in their parti- colored and often naked state. The best dresses were hunting- shirts of brown linen. Their tactics were equally irregular. 24 They were arranged without regard to size, excepting that the smallest men were in the front rank. With all this they were good looking soldiers, conducted by zealous officers." Another described the impression they made upon him. "Our soldiers have not yet quite the air of soldiers. They don't step exactly in time. They don't hold up their heads quite erect, nor turn out their toes so exactly as they ought. They don't all of them cock their hats, and such as do, don't all wear them the same way." Washington apologized for their appearance to Lafayette. "We ought to feel embarrassed," he said, "in presenting our- selves before an officer just from the French army." "It is to learn, not to instruct," was Lafayette's apt reply. They were not in any sense veterans or professional soldiers. They were patriots who had taken the field at great sacrifice to defend their rights and liberties against an army composed of English soldiers who were actuated only by a sense of duty to their King, and of Germans who had been hired to subjugate them. There was nothing in this army to attract them, outside of the purpose it had been organized to serve. They were wretchedly clad, and poorly fed. Their pay was uncertain. The commissariat, such as it was, was unreliable. They were the soldiers of a weak and tentative government, which was not to be organized upon a firm and stable basis for a decade to come. They were footsore from long marches and dis- couraged by the outlook of affairs. They were in want of almost everything. They were on the defensive. The problem of Independence was still unsolved. It was hopeful, but it was by no means assured. . Everything was involved in doubt and uncertainty. The tragic events of the campaign of 1777 were still before them. They were watching and straining their wits to understand the movements of one of the best armies the military systems of England and Germany could devise — superior to them in everything but their manhood, and the spirit which animated them. A lady who saw the British army enter Philadelphia a few weeks later says of it: "They looked well, clean, and well-clad, and the contrast between them and our poor, barefooted and ragged troops was very great, and caused a feeling of despair." 25 They were commanded by a man of great and noble qualities, who never failed to appreciate the motives that had brought them under his command, and who was as much a father to them as their commanding officer. Though himself a soldier of large experience, who understood the value and importance of discipline, he appreciated the fact that they were not soldiers by profession, and he was very forbearing, patient and con- siderate. Though some of them were convicted at this camp of oifences punishable by the articles of war with death, he pardoned them. Though he felt obliged to approve the death sentence of a soldier in Colonel Moylan's regiment, he respited him until further orders. The discipline of the camp was very lax. Saluting of officers was dispensed with. Courts-martial were very frequent, but their proceedings were often interrupted by the neglect of officers to attend them. Many officers were absent from camp without leave, or on indefinite leaves of absence. The misconduct of the officers was so serious and so frequent, that it called forth the following gentle rebuke from Washington: "The Commander-in-Chief regrets that he is so frequently obliged to censure officers in general orders for neglect of duty and other offences, and wishes earnestly that by an attentive and punctual discharge of their duty they would save him from a task so disagreeable and painful." Sentinels sat down at their posts, though severely and repeatedly reprimanded for it. Two of them who were convicted of sleeping while on duty received no greater punish- ment than twenty or thirty lashes on their bare backs. Deser- tions were frequent, yet those who were retaken were pardoned. The men appeared on parade without their uniforms, and it was found necessary to threaten every soldier with the whipping- post who appeared there without clean hands and faces, without being cleanly shaved, and without his hair being powdered. In order that they might have no excuse, five ounces of soap were issued to each man weekly — more regularly than many of the other necessaries of life. This is a candid description of the Continental army as it appeared at this camp upon the eve of the battle of Brandywine. The whipping-post, at which the delinquents expiated their offences, was erected by the roadside opposite the headquarters. 26 Here the lashes were often well laid on their bare backs, some- times as high as a hundred at a time. Near it was the board on which the daily orders and bulletins of the army were posted. Efforts were made at this camp to improve the time by getting the army into as good condition as possible, but some idea may be formed from what has been said of the discipline of the Continental army before it was whipped into better shape by Baron Steuben at Valley Forge. As is always the case, one does not hear of the conduct of the great body of this patriot army, who never failed, even in the smallest details, of their duty. The routine of camp life was monotonous, the days long and sultry, but the army was refreshed by a heavy rain on the i6th, which made the ground so wet that the surrounding country was scoured for straw to make the troops comfortable. On Sunday, the 17th, a gill of rum was issued to each of them. A line of sentries was always maintained around the camp, and parades were held every afternoon at five o'clock. It was the custom for the officers of the day to dine with the Com- mander-in-Chief at headquarters. Quite a stir was created in camp one day because some one had stolen a pair of silver- mounted pistols with "screw-barrels" from the holsters of Major Nicholas of the Tenth Virginia Regiment. Upon one occasion General Muhlenberg was requested, in orders, to place a guard over Mr. Miller's oats, which were about a quarter of a mile northwest of the headquarters. A hundred and twenty-six crops have been harvested from those fields since then, and their owners have been forgotten, but this par- ticular crop of oats won for Mr. William Miller's name a place in history. It was from this camp on the south side of the Bristol Road that the captious Conway wrote his letters, dated Warminster, to the Executive Council, complaining that the ranks of his regiments continued so slim ; that his troops were being enticed away by the large bounties paid for substitutes in the Pennsyl- vania militia, explaining to them that the militia were "abso- lutely good for nothing," and advising them what disposition they had better make of them. He also complained that his men were being persuaded to join the Georgia regiments, a statement which, upon investigation t)y a board of general officers held here, was pronounced to be without foundation. 27 "I find," he writes, "that your troops make up the strong half of this army, and although your regiments are not where they should or might be, yet they seem to me beyond the others." It was during this campaign that the American flag, which was adopted by Congress, June 14, 1777, was first carried by the Continental army. It was at this camp that Washington received news of the bloody affair with the Indians at Oriskany, when he detached Morgan's riflemen, "contrary to his wishes, but from the neces- sity of the case," to reinforce the Northern army. This corps, 500 strong, were among his best troops, as it was composed of men selected from the army at large who were well acquainted with the use of the rifle. It was here the army was encouraged by the news of the brilliant victory of Stark at Bennington, which was announced in general orders, and properly celebrated. "As there is not now the least danger of General Howe's going to New England," Washington wrote from this house to Putnam, "I hope the whole force of that country will turn out, and by following the great stroke struck by General Stark near Bennington, entirely crush General Burgoyne." Washington, while he occupied this house, was not only engrossed with the affairs of his own army, which were serious and troublesome, but he was obliged to give his attention to the affairs of the Northern army, which was also under his supervision. From this house he carried on his correspondence with Governor Clinton, Putnam and Gates, upon the critical condition of affairs at the North. It was a busy and anxious time with him. Not only the affairs within his own camp, but those outside of it, largely occupied his time. The ranks of his own army were by no means full, and he was obliged to complain repeatedly of the way in which enlistments were retarded. While here he was annoyed by the arrest of one of his officers in Maryland, because he had enlisted a man in that State for the Continental army. There was an act of Assembly there which prohibited enlistments for any but Maryland regiments. This is only an example of the many minor matters that occupied Washington's attention while he was encamped here upon the banks of the Neshaminy. It would take too much space to mention them all. Not the least among them was the trouble 28 the foreign officers were giving him, who were arriving in great numbers about this time, not excepting the cases of DeKalb, Pulaski and Lafayette. He wrote from these headquarters to Dr. Franklin in Paris, who had been instrumental in sending these officers here, that they had "come over in such crowds that we either must not employ them, or we must do it at the expense of one-half of the officers of the army," and he begged Dr. Franklin to discourage all others from coming. It was at this camp that Lafayette first joined the American army. He had been made a major-general by Congress on July 31, and was in command of Philadelphia from August 8 to August 15, when he was reHeved by General Armstrong. He then accepted Washington's invitation, and came up to Neshaminy camp with his horses and equipment. He occupied these headquarters with Washington, as a member of his military family, and served in the army as a volunteer until he was placed in command of General Stephen's division after the battle of Germantown. He was then only nineteen years of age; a French nobleman of high rank and influence, who had forsaken all the ease and comforts of great wealth to cast his lot with the struggling colonies in the darkest hour of the war — when the news reached France that Washington's broken little army, in November, 1776, was fleeing across New Jersey. The Ameri- can commissioners in France were not able to furnish him with transportation, so he fitted out a vessel at his own expense, and brought the Baron DeKalb and other officers with him. He landed at Charleston in July, 1777, and rode on horseback to Philadelphia, where he arrived on the 27th — the day before Washington's army reached the banks of the Delaware. It was at these headquarters that General Coudray, the dis- tinguished French engineer, laid before Washington the plans he had prepared by order of Congress for the defences of the Delaware. At this camp also was Louis Fleury, a French nobleman, and captain of engineers, who afterwards hauled down the English standard at Stony Point, he having been the first man to enter the fort. Here also, as a volunteer, was the Count Casimir Pulaski, who had been strongly recommended by Dr. Franklin and Silas Deane, and who afterwards fell at Savannah. Here also was the father of Chief Justice Marshall, as colonel of a 29 regiment of Virginia troops. Here, in Conway's brigade, were Lieutenants James Gibbon and George Knox, of the Pennsyl- vania Line, who afterwards led the forlorn hope at Stony Point. Here was Major Witherspoon, of Maxwell's staff, son of the signer of the Declaration of Independence, who, a few weeks later, was killed at the battle of Germantown. Here was Lamar, and those gallant men of the Pennsylvania Line who lost their lives at Paoli. Here was Woodford, commander of the Virginia brigade, who was wounded at Germantown. Here were also Chambers, and Williams, and Grier and Stephen Bayard, who, within a month or two, were wounded in the bloody actions around Philadelphia. Here were those heroes of the rank and file, whose names have been forgotten, who, before the campaign was over, gave their lives for their country upon the hard-fought fields of Brandywine and Germantown. The time would fail if we undertook to call the roll of all those who were upon this tented field, whose names are written in the Temple of Fame. The army had remained in camp at Neshaminy so long that forage was becoming scarce, and though every sanitary pre- caution had been taken, the camp was becoming unhealthy under the hot August sun. Lord Howe had been so long in showing his hand, that Washington had lost all patience with him, and determined to follow his movements no longer. He was convinced that it was not his intention to enter the Chesapeake. He had kept his fleet so long at sea that his movement could no longer be looked upon as a feint. The loss of time, and the injury to his army by keeping it so long confined in the ships, was too great to justify a movement that was intended only to mislead. Wash- ington, therefore, made up his mind that Charleston was Howe's destination, and he decided to let him go his way and return to the Hudson. It was not known to him that Howe's fleet had already entered the Chesapeake, and was at that time at the head of the bay. The country was thinly settled, the distances great, the roads bad, and the means of transportation slow. The same care does not seem to have been taken to procure news from the Chesapeake that had been taken at Cape May. No danger seems to have been expected from that quarter. 30 Entertaining these views, Washington called a council of his General Officers to meet at headquarters on the morning of the 2ist, of whose proceedings the following is the report: At a Council of General Officers, held at Neshaminy Camp, in Bucks County, the 21st August, 1777. Present. His Excellency, the Commander-in-Chief. Major-Generals. Brigadier-Generals . Greene, Maxwell, Weedon, Lord Stirling, Knox, Woodford, Stephen, Wayne. Scot, Marquis Fayette, Muhlenberg, Conway, The Commander-in-Chief informed the Council that the British Fleet left the Capes of Delaware on the 31st July and have not been seen from any information he has obtained since the 7th instant, when they were off Sinepuxent and steering to the Southward, and propounded the following Questions for the opinion of the Council: ist. — What is the most probable place of their destination, whether Eastward or Southward and to what port ? Answer. — The Southward, and that Charles Town, from a View of all Circumstances, is the most probable object of their attention. 2d. — If it should be thought, from a consideration of all Circum- stances, that the Fleet is gone far to the Southward, will it be advisable for this Army, taking into View the length of distance and unhealthiness of that Climate at this Season, to march that way? or will there be a probability of their arriving there in time, should it be attempted, to give any effectual opposition to the Enemy or to prevent them^ accom- plishing their purposes ? Answer. — It will not be advisable for the Army to march to the South- ward, as they could not possibly arrive at Charles Town in time to afford any succour. 3d. — If it should not be thought advisable in such Case for the Army to march to the Southward, how shall it be employed? Shall it remain where it now is or move towards Hudsons River to act as the Situation of Affairs shall seem to require? Answer. — The Army should move immediately towards the North River. Peter Muhlenberg, B. G., G. Washington, G. Weedon, B. G., Nath Greene, M. G., Wm. Woodford, Brig. Genl. Stirling, M. G., Chs. Scott, B. G., Adam Stephen, M. G., T. Conway, B. G., The Marquis de la Fayette, M. G., William Maxwell, B. G., H. Knox, B. G. Artillery, [Copy.] Anthy. Wayne, B. G. [Attest] Tench Tilghman. .1 31 Upon the adjournment of this council, Washington issued orders for the army to march for the Delaware at five o'clock on the morning of Friday, the 2 2d. Lincoln's division, under Wayne, was to cross at Howell's Ferry, Greene's and Stephen's at Coryell's Ferry, and Lord Stirling's division at Trenton, the same way by which it had come. The conclusions of this general council were so utterly at fault that we need not be surprised to find some misgiving in the minds of the thirteen officers who composed it. They determined to put the responsibility upon Congress, and Wash- ington wrote a long letter to that body submitting the proceed- ings of the council, with his reasons for its action, and asked Congress for its advice. He sent his aide-de-camp, Alexander Hamilton, as the bearer of this important communication. After Hamilton had gone, a letter was received by Washington from John Hancock, dated the 21st, by which he was informed that Howe's fleet had been seen at the Capes of the Chesapeake on the 14th. Even this information was not sufficient to shake Washington's conviction that Howe had gone further south, but as an act of prudence he determined to remain where he was for a short time. "I shall in consequence of this information," he replied to the President of Congress, "halt upon my present ground till I hear something further." And he added, "I cannot yet think that General Howe seriously intends to go into the Chesapeake." After some deliberation. Congress adopted the following reso- lution in reply to Washington's request for its advice: ''Resolved, That Congress approve the plan of marching the army toward the Hudson, and then that General Washington act as circumstances may require." The army remained at the camp on the Neshaminy on the night of the 21st and all day of the 2 2d, and no further news of the fleet came. Washington, therefore, was confirmed in his conviction that Howe had gone to Charleston. He accordingly issued the following order : "The army is to march to-morrow morning (the 23d) if it should not rain, precisely in the time and manner directed in the orders of yesterday. The two divisions which go to Coryell's Ferry will march in this order: General Greene's first, then 32 General Stephen's, and then the baggage of both divisions, in the same order as the divisions march." At this time, while the army was preparing to march in the wrong direction, the British fleet was at anchor at the head of the Chesapeake, preparing to land Howe's army there, con- sisting of 18,000 men, of whom 4400 were Germans. In the evening rumors of this fact began to reach the camp on the Neshaminy, and though still unwilling to accept these rumors without confirmation, Washington issued the following: "Additional, Evening — After Orders. "The army is not to inarch to-morrow morning, but remain in its present encampment till further orders." Late in the evening of the 2 2d came the official confirmation of these rumors by express from Congress, and then the follow- ing order was issued: — "Further After-Orders. Evening, 10 o'Clock. "The army is to march to-morrow morning at four o'clock precisely, if it should not rain, towards Philadelphia." There seemed to be such a deep anxiety in Washington's mind for the safety of the Hudson that his thoughts were always recurring to it. The impending danger from the Chesapeake did not seem to be able to draw them from it. He marched up to the Hudson from Morristown when there was no necessity that required it, and in a few days saw the futility of this march himself. When he was marching away from there, as he wrote to Gates, from Coryell's Ferry, he could not "help casting his eyes continually behind him." He" was restless at the Falls of Schuylkill until his army was moving again in that direction, and now, he was upon the point of recrossing the Delaware when he was arrested by the arrival of Howe's army below Phila- delphia, at the place where Howe had always intended that his army should land. Orders were immediately sent to Sullivan (who had not yet returned to Hanover, N. J., from his unsuccessful raid upon Staten Island) to hasten with his brigade to join the main army. Nash's brigade of North Carolina and Virginia troops, which was at Billingsport, and Colonel Thomas Proctor's regi- ment of Pennsylvania Artillery, which was at Fort Mifflin, were ordered to proceed immediately to Chester. 33 There was much excitement in the camp on the Neshaminy that night. The army had been awakened out of sleep to learn that its suspense was over. It was no longer to march toward the Hudson, but it was to march at daybreak, on six hours' notice, for Philadelphia. The issues of the campaign, which had so long perplexed them, had at last taken definite shape. The enemy was in their front again, with Philadelphia between them. The next day the Old York Road was lined for miles with these marching columns; with the long trains of baggage- wagons; the batteries of the artillery, with their caissons, rumbUng along, and the squadrons of cavalry, preceded by the pioneers, the artificers, and the colors of the army. The farmers through the country marked their progress from a distance by the long clouds of dust, and understood what it meant, for the news that the British had landed spread like wildfire through the countryside. Many changes have taken place along this road, but there are still standing many houses that were silent witnesses of this long, impressive procession: first Greene's division, then Stephen's, then Lincoln's under Wayne, then the division of Lord Stirhng. When Fisher's Lane (where the railroad now crosses) was reached, the three divisions of Greene, Stephen, and Lord Stir- ling, went into camp to the west of the Old York Road, and Washington made his headquarters at Stenton. Lincoln's brigade, under Wayne, marched two miles further south, and encamped at the Rising Sun. Then followed a busy night of preparation for the parade through Philadelphia on the following day. It was the first time the army had been in that city, and it was important that it should make as formidable an appearance as possible, not only for the purpose of encouraging its friends, but for the purpose of impressing the LoyaHsts, of whom the town was full. Washington issued orders, going into the smallest details, as to the manner in which the parade should be conducted, and then advised the army to go early to bed. The heavy baggage was sent round the city to the ferry over the Schuylkill, and the men were excused from carrying their camp-kettles. On Sunday morning, the 24th, the march of the army began, in its best martial array. Washington rode with his staff at L«fe. 34 the head, and Lafayette was at his side. The route was down Front to Chestnut, and out Chestnut to the Common, where a short halt was made; and then out across the floating bridge at the Middle Ferry, and on to Darby that night. There is something sublime in the spectacle (as we see it in our fancy) of this tattered, poorly-armed, poorly-disciplined, defiant army, in need of almost everything, on its way to resist the progress of an aggressive, arrogant and confident foe, superior to it in numbers and in everything except the men of which it was composed. Victory was hardly to be expected, and yet they withstood this enemy upon the bloody fields of Brandywine and Germantown, never faltering until they were overwhelmed, and then leaving the enemy, so exhausted that no attempt was made to pursue them or molest them in their sombre retreat. And so they stayed the hands of those who were seeking their subjugation. And towering above them all stands out the grand figure of Washington, the embodiment of a great cause, whose fame has become universal, and whose character is more fondly revered as the years go by, and will be so revered as long as time shall last. ^ ^ x^.