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From the Library of
THOMAS MILLS DAY, Y'37
Gift of his children
1927

MEMOIE

COL. THOMAS KNOWLTON,

OF ASHFOHI), CONNECTICUT. "'••

ItEPUINTED B'HO.M TlIK NEW KN(;L-V.\D HISTORICAL .4.N1) liENF-.-^hOOIO-^L KKGISTKI!,
FOIt .lANUAKY, 1861.

BY A.SHBEL WOODWARD, M. I>.
OK TKASKLIN. CuN /S KCTICUT.

BOSTON:
I'KINTKl) BY HENRY W. DUTTON .i- SON,
Nos. 1^0 .\ND 92 Washington Streki',
1861.

t/75

7-,

-J'—I

MEMOIE

COL. THOMAS KNOWLTON,

OF ASHFORD, CONNECTICUT.

REPRINTED FROM THE NEW ENGLAND HISTORICAL AND GENEALOGICAL REGISTER,
FOR JANUARY, 1861.

BY ASHBEL WOODWARD, M. D.,
OF FBAWKLIN; CONNECTICUT.

BOSTON:
PEINTED BY HENEY W. DUTTON & SON,
Nos. 80 AND 92 Washimgtoh Street.
1861.

MEMOIR.

The reputation men leave behind them depends materially upon cir
cumstances unconnected with their services or wcn-th. Where individuals
have acted an important part in moulding the history of their time, pos
terity, by oft-repeated siftings and reviews, will in the end generally mete
out to each the proper measure of credit.
Still, not a few brave men who sacrificed fortune and life to secure our
national independence, — men held in high estimation by the most honored
of their cotemporaries, — have been allowed a very inadequate place in
the national records and the national remembrance. Some are forgotten
because their acts of heroism were performed in the shadows cast by
greater names. Others achieved too much to pass into oblivion, yet fall far
short of receiving their deserts through the modesty or indifference of those
to whom their reputation was more immediately intrusted. This, we think,
is true of Col. Knowlton. We believe that the position has not been
awarded to him in the history of the colonial and revolutionary periods, to
which his sagacity and valor, his patriotism and distinguished public ser
vices entitle him.
Col. Thomas Knowlton was born in the town of West Boxford, Mass.,
November, 1740. The church records of that place show that he was
baptized on the thirtieth day of November, and as the ceremony of bap
tism was then almost invariably performed on the eighth day afterbirth, we
may infer that he was born on the twenty-second of that month.* The
Knowlton family were of English origin, and among the earliest settlers
of Massachusetts.' During the boyhood of Thomas, his father William
Knowlton removed from Boxford to the town of Ashford, in the prov
ince of Connecticut, where he purchased a farm of four hundred acres.
Not long after the commencement of the " Last French War," in
1755, Knowlton began his military career by enlisting as a private in the
company commanded by Capt. Durkee. He continued in the army about
four years, and was successively promoted to the rank of sergeant, ensign,
and lieutenant, holding the last office in the campaign of 1760, which was
signalized by the capture of Canada from the French.
He was present at the battle of Wood Creek, fought in the month of
August, 1758. It was here that Major Putnam, having been captured by
an Indian warrior, was tied to a tree, where, during a considerable part of

4 Col. Thomas Knowlton.
the fight, he was exposed to the fire of both friends and foes. The cir
cumstances of the contest relating more particularly to young Knowlton,
as narrated by his son, are these : A scouting party, embracing with
others the company of Capt. Durkee, had been sent out from the English
army to intercept the French and Indian stragglers who were thought to
be ranging the forests in the vicinity. While thus engaged they found at
Wood Creek an encampment bearing marks of recent occupation. The
discovery of kettles and various other articles secreted among the neighbor
ing bogs and brush, induced the belief that the enemy designed to return.
Accordingly the Provincials took possession of the grounds and prepared
to receive them. But after the lapse of a day or two, a party of English,
while ascending the creek on a fishing excursion, encountered a couple
of French boats descending. On espying the character of the new
comers, the French turning about rowed rapidly up the stream. Feeling
that it would be idle to delay any longer in the hope of surprising the
enemy, now that their location was known, the Provincials abandoned
this position of security to seek the foe. The attempt was full of peril,
for the route lay through a heavy forest rendered almost impassable by
the dense growth of brakes and underwood. While cautiously advancing
in single file, a storm of bullets was suddenly showered upon them by an
ambuscade of French and Indians. So thick was the undergrowth that
not a foe was visible, the musketry and ihe smoke wreaths alone reveal
ing their deadly lurking places. The English sought shelter behind the
trunks of trees, fighting in a great measure independently of each other.
At an early stage of the conflict the attention of young Knowlton was
attracted by a quivering among the brakes, and a moment after he saw
an Indian crawling stealthily on hands and knees into the path just formed
by the footsteps of the EngUsh. He immediately shot the Indian, and
having reloaded his musket, sprang forward to secure his scalp for a
trophy. Just as he reached the victim ten or twelve Indians jumped up
from the grass on all sides of him, each beckoning to the lad to come to
his arms as a prisoner. Not at all intimidated by this closing circle of
savage foes, the boy-soldier, with a boldness and dexterity that for a mo
ment paralyzed their energies, shot down the nearest warrior, and, bound
ing over his prostrate body, regained his comrades in safety, though pur
sued by a shower of balls. Meanwhile the action had become general.
Both parties fought desperately, and success alternated from side lo side.
At length the troops had become so scattered and commingled among the
brakes that all regularity was losi, each one managing and fighting for
himself. At this stage of the conflict, Knowlton, on entering a small
open space, saw a Frenchman enter on the opposite side. Each snapped
his musket, and both muskets missed fire. As neither of them had bay
onets, the Frenchman endeavored to draw a dirk, but before he could
succeed, Knowlton had clasped him around the waist and now exerted all

Col. Thomas Knowlton. 5
his strength to throw him. But the endurance of the large and powerful
man proved an overmatch for the immature though active boy. Knowlton
was thrown, but at this juncture an American soldier fortunately entered
the opening when their antagonist begged for quarters. Having re-priraed
his gun Knowlton and his companion began to lead away the prisoner,
when he sprang from their hands and attempted to escape, but ere he had
run many steps his flight was stopped forever by a ball from the musket
of Knowlton.
The two associates in this adventure, from whom the rest had become
separated by retreat, now attempted to rejoin the main body of troops.
After running in different directions, and being shot at several times, they
gained the rear of the English. During the engagement Knowlton's coat
was perforated on the shoulder by a ball, but he escaped unharmed. For
the valor here exhibited he was promoted to a sergeancy, and before the
close of the war was raised to the rank of lieutenant.
¦ When we reflect that such heroism and judgment were displayed by a
youth of less than eighteen years, we are not surprised to find him, at the
maturer age of thirty-six, accounted the first officer of his grade in the
American army.
He was present at the capture of Ticonderoga and performed other
services in the campaigns of 1759-60 which brought the French and
Indian war to a close.
Upon the commencement of hostilities between Spain and England in
1762, Knowlton sailed with the Provincials under Gen. Lyman to join
Lord Albemarle for the reduction of Havana. After a long and brave
defence the Spanish surrendered. But the climate proved more disas
trous to the Americans and English than the batteries of the enemy.
When the place capitulated, August 13th, disease had already made
frightful ravages among our men. Comparatively a small part surviving
the hazards of the expedition were spared to return to their homes. On
the return passage Knowlton was challenged to fight a duel by a British
officer, whom he had rebuked for some offence perpetrated while in
liquor. But on maturer reflection, either becoming convinced of his error
or fearful of encountering so coo! and determined an adversary, the
Englishman whhdrew the challenge and apologized for his haste.
Col. Knowlton had married, April 5, 1759, Miss Anna, daughter of
Sampson Keyes, of Ashford. Subsequently to the general pacification
which succeeded the fall of Havana, he followed the quiet pursuits of
agriculture at home in Ashford. There he continued to reside in the
bosom of an aff"ectionate family till the growing alienation between the
Colonies and the Mother Country blazed into deadly hostility at Lexing
ton and Concord. During this interval of repose he sustained among his
fellow-townsmen a high character for honesty and discretion. The de
moralizing influences of camp life had passed over his head as harm-

6 Col. Thomas Knowlton.
lessly as the bullets of the Indian foe. Although not a professor of piety
he was a punctual attendant at church, and was ever ready to lend a help
ing hand to encourage enterprises of benevolence and humanity. A gener
ous nature and expansive sympathies raising him above the narrow big
otry of sects, prompted him to take a bold though modest stand against
the religious intolerance at that time in many parts of New England un
fortunately too rife. A well authenticated incident, which happened a few
years before the Revolution, illustrates our point. As he was riding
on one occasion past the Presbyterian church, he observed a crowd
gathered around the whipping-post, planted, according to the harsh.
usages of the day, in the vicinity. On inquiry he ascertained that a cul
prit was to be flogged for non-attendance at church and the non-payment
of tithes. When the sentence was read preparatory to the infliction of the
punishment, he noticed the omission of the usual clause requiring the
stripes to be applied to the bare back. Taking advantage of the inad
vertence of the scribe, he threw his own overcoat over the shoulders of
the victim whereby the torture was greatly mitigated.
At the age of thirty-three he was appointed one of the selectmen of the
town. This was spoken of at the time as quite a wonder, for silvery hair
and ripe experience were then thought indispensable to the proper dis
charge of the duties of that august office. Young America has seriously
encroached upon the notions entertained by our forefathers.
When the tidings of the conflict at Lexington reached Ashford, Knowl
ton held no military command. But a spirit like his required no urging
to a scene of action where the cause of liberty had been baptized in the
blood of his countrymen. Leaving his farm-business just as it was, and
bidding adieu to, his family, he hurried with gun and well filled powder
horn to the rendezvous of the Ashford company. Had he been desirous
of an excuse for remaining at home, the circumstances of his situation
would have affbrded several. His wife, whose love for her husband ex
ceeded her devotion to the cause of independence, exhausted all the art
and ingenuity of womanly persuasion to detain him from the war. A
numerous family of young and dependent children appealed in mute elo
quence to the affections of a father's heart. The military affairs of the
township were entirely in the hands of others, while an important civil
office seemingly demanded his attention at home. None of these con
siderations, however, weighed a straw when balanced in the scale against
the momentous interests now to be decided by the arbitrament of the
sword. The company formed at Ashford, being destitute of a captain, pro
ceeded to fill the vacancy by ballot. Knowlton had joined as a private and
offered no claim for the situation. Yet so great was the reputation for
bravery, prudence, and sagacity, that had followed him home from the
French war, that he was unanimously selected for the post. This com-

Col. Thomas Knowlton. 7
pany was the first which entered Massachusetts from a sister colony. How
honorable and useful a part it acted there will appear presently.
Knowlton was the favorite officer of Putnam, and such confidence did
the veteran general repose in the accuracy of his judgment, that he inva
riably consulted him in matters of importance. A short time before the
Provincials took possession of Bunker's Hill, Putnam came to his quar
ters and in a private interview developed the plan of seizing and for
tifying that height. Knowlton wholly disapproved of the project, insisting
that it would probably prove fatal to the American troops engaged in it ;
.for the Brhish, by landing at Charlestown Neck under the protection of
the floating batteries and ships of war, could cut off" from the hill all sup
plies of provisions and ammunhion, besides rendering retreat extremely
hazardous if not impossible. " Still," he continued, " if you are deter
mined to go upon the hill I shall accompany you with my men and exert
myself to the uttermost." This conversation was overheard by Edward
Keyes, of Ashford, a private in the company, who stood sentry at the
door and listened with the intense curiosity of a raw young soldier of sev
enteen. He narrated the incident to the informant of the writer. As
affairs turned, the recklessness of Lord Howe and his contempt for the
American army, saved them in a measure from the catastrophe which
Capt. Knowlton and other prudent officers had anticipated.
After many debates the scheme of Gen. Putnam prevailed, and it was
determined to hazard the fortunes of an engagement on the Charlestown
peninsula. On the night of June 16th, a body of about one thousand
men under the command of Col. Prescott, following the glimmer of dark
lanterns, crossed the neck. Here they overtook several wagon loads of
intrenching tools, the sight of which first apprized the inferior officers
and privates of the design of their darksome march. A controversy
now arose as to the proper hill to be fortified. Bunker Hill, the only one
on the peninsula then designated by a distinctive name, was explicitly
mentioned in the order. But the remoteness of that elevation from Bos
ton, induced them, in the face of the instructions from the committee of
safety, to move farther on to the eminence aftervfards known as Breed's
Hill, though not so high as the former by fifty feet. Owing to this dis
pute it was nearly midnight before the sward was broken. Capt. Knowl
ton commanded a fatigue party of about two hundred Connecticut men.*
These were the first to strike the spade, and toiled unceasingly till the grey
light of morning revealed to the astonished Britons the ominous defences
reared, while the familiar cry, " All's well," had lulled them to sleep.
So vigorously had the work been pushed that by break of day a strong
redoubt had been thrown up, flanked on the left by a breastwork extend-
* The Bunker's Hill Roll of the Ashford company contains ninety-six names inclu
sive of officers.

8 Col. Thomas Knowlton.
ing down the hill in a northerly direction, and terminating a few
rods south of an impassable slough. The rear of the breastwork was
connected with the redoubt by a narrow sally-port. Beyond the
slough, the tongue of land about two hundred and fifty yards in width,
lying on the southern side of the Mystic River, was undefended. The
configuration of the peninsula rendered the occupation of this unguarded
point by the American troops indispensable to their success and even
their safety. The enemy by marching along the bank of the stream could
gain the rear of the redoubt and slay or capture its defenders at a blow.
Accordingly, while the British, after landing at Moreton's Point, were
partaking of refreshments and waiting for reinforcements, Capt. Knowl
ton, with the Connecticut troops under his command, was ordered to take
possession of this pass. Here he adopted a novel mode of fortification,
the efficacy of which far exceeded the anticipations of its projector. A
post and rail fence already stretched across the field from the river to the
road. The soldiers, taking rails from other fences in the neighborhood,
built a second fence parallel to the first, and filled the intervening space
with freshly mown hay.
It may seem strange to some that the command at a point of such vital
importance should be intrusted to Capt. Knowlton, when there were other
officers. on the hill of superior rank, who might feel aggrieved at such an
assignment of this post of honor as well as danger. The reason is to be
found in the thorough confidence which Gen. Putnam reposed in him.
Years before they had often marched and fought side by side. On long
expeditions through the wilderness, and on the battle-field, Putnam had
learned to appreciate the qualities of the youthful hero. After the lapse
of a decade they again stood together upon the verge of a bloody conflict.
The strip of hard upland bordering on the Mystic, the key to the Ameri
can works on the peninsula, must be guarded at all hazards. Gen. Put
nam, ignoring considerations of thular pre-eminence, insisted that Capt.
Knowlton was just the man for the place, and it was accordingly given
to him.
Col. Stark, coming upon the ground at a later hour, also took post behind
the rail fence, at the extremity towards the redoubt ; the three command
ers, Prescott, Stark, and Kijowlton, in their several positions, fighting the
battle independently of each other.
The British were drawn up in two wings, the left under Gen. Pigot
moving with steady step against the redoubt, and the right led by Lord
Howe in person, against the rail fence. Lord Howe looked with con
tempt both upon the breastwork of hay and rails, and the backwoodsmen
behind it. He fully expected that Us defenders would fly in dismay at
the first shot, leaving him free to attack the main body in flank, while
Gen. Pigot carried the works in front. But he sadly mistook the recep
tion that awaited him. Reserving their fire till the enemy came within

Col. Thomas Knowlton. 9
six or eight rods, the Provincials poured upon them incessant volleys.
Capt. Knowlton, divested of coat, walked along the line in front of his
men, encouraging them both by example and by words. He repeatedly
loaded and discharged with deadly aim his own faithful musket, till it was
struck by a cannon ball and knocked into the form of a semicircle. In
this shape it was carried from the ground, and afterwards remained many
years in possession of the family, but now is unfortunately lost. Not
withstanding the great superiority of the British right wing, in numbers,
discipline, and accoutrements, they proved a most unequal match for the
Americans opposed to them. The latter resting their guns upon the rails
took deliberate aim. The enemy fell by scores at every volley till hun
dreds lay in heaps upon the earth. Yet as huge gaps were opened others
stepped bravely in to fill the vacant places and share the same fate. Very
many of the companies lost from three-fourths to nine-tenths of their men,
and of several scarcely half a dozen escaped. While the assailants were
thus slaughtered, the defenders of the rampart remained unharmed,
partly because the artillery of Lord Howe proved useless, being stopped
by a marsh, and partly because the closely packed grass was impervious
to musket balls. Besides, as the British took no aim, their shot mostly
passed over the heads of the Americans, as shown by the fact that the
upper limbs and foliage of several trees standing a little in the rear were
completely riddled, while the trunks and lower limbs were hardly grazed.
At length Lord Howe, ,with the remnant of the column that shorly before
had moved proudly on' 'the field, as if to certain victory, was compelled
to retreat. The enemy had been repulsed at every point ; yet, nothing daunted.
Lord Howe marshaled the troops for a fresh attack. A second time his
division marched calmly and boldly as before, over the bodies of fallen
comrades, against the rail fence. Restraining with difficulty the impetu
osity inspired by success, the Americans impatiently withheld their fire
till the space between the hostile armies was narrowed to six rods. Sud
denly the crash of musketry resounded along the lines, and the messen
gers of death leaped from hundreds of muzzles at once. The slaughter
of officers was frightful. Lord Howe, seemingly possessed of a charmed
life was three times left alone, so great was the destruction around him.
Human fortitude could not long face a murderous fire like this. Despite
the exertions of Howe, who sought the thickest danger, endeavoring by
gestures and words to rekindle hope in the hearts of the despairing, the
. shattered columns reeled, broke, and fled
Gen Clinton, having watched from Copp's Hill the progress of the
battle had discovered the vulnerable point of the American lines. Stung
to midness by the carnage of the very flower of the army, he crossed
over to the peninsula, and as a volunteer joined the dejected troops. Two
disastrous repulses had convinced the British generals that the rail fence

10 Col. Thomas Knowlton.
was impregnable. The third time, therefore, a different plan of attack
was adopted. Instead of storming the redoubt in front, they determined
to take it in flank through the open space between the breastwork and
fence. While Howe with a part of his wing made a feint of repeating
his attack upon the fortified fence, another part brought several cannon
to enfilade the breastwork on the left of the redoubt. As the troops be
hind it were protected only in front, they were compelled to seek refuge
in the enclosure. As the British advanced with fixed bayonets the Ameri
cans greeted them with a final volley, for their ammunhion was now ex
hausted. While the soldiers of Howe were pouring into the redoubt on
the northern side, Clinton and Pigot had come up and were assailing it
on the south and east. For a short time the Americans contended against
the bayonets of the foe with the stocks of their muskets and whatever
missiles they could seize. Prescott was soon forced to order a retreat.
While the main body were making their escape, Knowlton and his
compeers resolutely maintained their position behind the fence, thus frus
trating Lord Howe's design of cutting off the retreat of the Americans.
As the division of Prescott passed the fortified fence which was one hun
dred and ninety yards in the rear of the breastwork that formed a con
tinuation of the redoubt, Col. Stark's regiment, whose ammunition was also
expended, joined in with it. Knowlton now ordered the four companies
under his command to withdraw from the post which they had defended
so successfully. Fortunately they had double the number of cartridges
of the other troops, having brought them from Connecticut. Retiring
slowly, and making the most effective use of their extra ammunition, they
formed the rear-guard of the Americans in their retreat. Without doubt
the obstinate bravery of Knowlton's division, rendered effective, as it was,
by a plentiful supply of powder and shot, saved many who but for their
interposition never could have escaped from the peninsula.
As the Ashford company, after leaving the rail-fence, was passing neai'
a field-piece which had been loaded by the Americans, and then aban
doned in that condition, Robert Hale, one of its members, rushed from
the ranks, and seizing a brand discharged it. The diversified fragments
of metal which had been substituted for a ball, mowed a wide swath
through the British ranks. In the momentary confusion which ensued.
Hale slipped away from his perilous position and regained his comrades
in safety.
Thus it will be seen that Knowlton's company was the first to enter
Massachusetts from a sister colony ; that the four companies placed for
the time under his command were the only troops from abroad to go
upon Breed's Hill on the night of the 16th ; that after toiling for hours
in throwing up the redoubt, they removed to a new position where they
shared the privilege of twice repulsing Lord Howe ; and finally that they
were the last to leave the scene of conflict. Notwithstanding all this

Col. Thomas Knowlton. 11
exposure but three are marked as killed on the roll of the Ashford
company.* For his gallantry in this engagement, Knowlton was promoted by Con-
¦gress to the rank of Major, and was thenceforward generally esteemed
the first officer of his grade in the army. A gentleman of Boston, like
wise, out of admiration for his conduct, presented to him a gold laced
hat, a,n elegant sash, and gold breast-plate. The breast-plate is still in
possession of the family.
Col. Burr, a keen judge of men and brilliant officer, as all must ac
knowledge, notwithstanding the odium cast upon him by the later transac
tions of his life, became acquainted with Knowlton and was singularly
captivated both by his military talent, and the qualities of his open and
fearless nature. Not long before his death, in speaking of the friend of
his youth, Burr said, " I had a full account of the battle from Knowlton's
own lips, and believe if the chief command had been entrusted to him,
the issue would have proved more fortunate." When the objection was
raised that he ought not to be placed before Prescott and Stark, Burr ob
served, that " such was not his intention, — that an able and efficient gen
era? commander was wanted, as they, like Knowlton, had particular posts
to defend ; and great fault rests somewhere for not bringing to them
proper support." Alluding to the rapidity of his promotion, he remarked,
" It was impossible to promote such a man too rapidly."
During the subsequent winter, while the Americans were beleaguering
Boston, Major Knowlton was stationed with Gen. Putnam at Cambridge.
With by far the greater number, the time passed wearily, because the
monotony of camp-life was seldom relieved by stirring incidents. The
soldiers were discontented, the officers gloomy, and even Congress exhib
ited many signs of anxious foreboding. At this time the daring and
successful exploit of a few Americans contributed to revive the drooping
hopes of the army. A deserter from the enemy communicated the infor
mation that several English officers were quartered in the scattering
houses at Charlestown that had escaped the conflagration of June 17th.
Gen. Washington, having conferred with Putnam, directed Maj. Knowlton
to cross over to the peninsula, with the deserter, and from personal in-
* In the acconnt here given of the part taken by Col. Knowlton in the battle of
Bunker's Hill, we have placed great reliance upon the facts collected by the late Wm.
W. Marcy, Esq. Mr. Marcy possessed qualities of mind which eminently fitted him
for historical investigations. Having married a grand-daughter of Col. Knowlton, he
took a deep interest in the events of his life, and was untiring in the inquiries he made
among the survivors of the Ashford Company who fought on the Hill, to ascertain mi
nutely the part the Colonel there acted.
We would also here acknowledge our indebtedness to the manuscripts intrusted to
the writer, by Capt. Miner Knowlton of the U. S. Army, who has been assiduous in
collecting every known fact in regard to the life and services of his distinguished
relative.

12 Col. Thomas Knowlton.
spection ascertain the truthfulness of the statement. The command was
executed the next night. On the second evening (February 8th,) be
tween the hours of eight and nine, Knowlton proceeded from Cobble
Hill with one hundred men from the first brigade, and a like number from
Frye's brigade, being determined, if possible, to burn the houses and cap
ture the officers. No one can appreciate the delicacy or danger of the
undertaking unless acquainted with the situation of the peninsula at the
time. Bunker's Hill was garrisoned by the main force under Gen.
Howe, while Charlestown Neck was strongly guarded. The only way ot
access was by the narrow mill-dam extending from east to west across
the bay, and so low that the top was frequently buried beneath the tides.
Yet over this slender pathway the Americans marched in single file, with
Knowlton at the head, toward the gaping jaws of the British lion. On
reaching the guard-house, the sentinel advanced with presented bayonet.
Knowlton, still leading the way, thrust it aside with the left hand and run
him through the body with the right so suddenly that not the least alarm
was given. The inmates were surprised and captured. When the men
had been so arranged as to secure a safe retreat, they began to fire the
buildings. As the flames darted upward, the enemy on the hill, imagin
ing that a formidable army was about to attack them, opened a heavy
cannonade from the fort. Knowlton's party persevered till seventeen
scattered houses were in a blaze, he himself remaining behind the rest to
start afresh one of the fires which they in their hurry had left. The
whole number then returned by the way they came, without the injury of
a man, although thundered upon by the artillery on the hill.
Lieut. Trafton, a member of the party, afterwards observed in conver
sation, " It was considered at the time an operation of great hazard, espe
cially in securing a retreat ; but we had entire confidence in the officer
commanding, and that he could effect it if any officer in the army could."
The garrison on Bunker Hill were not the only frightened ones. A
theatre had been fitted up in the city, early in the season, which was much
frequented by officers and tories. On the evening in question, a farce,
written by Gen. Burgoyne, and entitled " The Blockade of Boston," was
to be performed as an after-piece. The curtain had just arisen, and the
character representing Washington, equipped with a mammoth wig and
sword, and followed by a ragged orderly sergeant armed with a rusty
musket seven or eight feet long, were about to commence the entertain
ment of the crowded assembly at the expense of the besiegers, when a
genuine serjeant hurried upon the stage, announcing that " the Yankees
were attacking Bunker's HiU." This was thought to be a part of the act
ing, till Gen. Howe gave the order, " Officers, to your alarm posts !"
Great confusion followed. A rush was made for the door, the ladies
shrieking, and the men, whose enthusiasm in many instances had been
wrought up to a high point by frequent potations from the punch bowl.

Col. Thomas Knowlton. 13
muttering their aspirations for the Yankees, in language too sulphureous
to bear repetition by the sober.
An order, now extant, signed by Gen. Washington and dated at Head-
Quarters, Cambridge, Feb. 28, 1776, directing the Paymaster-General to
pay to Maj. Knowlton so many pounds, lawful money, to purchase arms
for the use of the twentieth regiment under his command, shows that
although holding only the commission of Major, he was in actual com
mand of a regiment.
After the British evacuated Boston, Knowlton proceeded to join the
army then engaged in the defence of New York. On the way he made
a short visit to his family in Ashford, and while there paid off his troops
in scrip. A regiment called the rangers was now raised by the selection
of the choicest men from the Connecticut troops. Knowlton was com
missioned Lt. Colonel, and the command of this regiment, which had been
appointed expressly for desperate and delicate services, was given to
him. Before the battle of Long Island, Gen. Putnam entered zealously into
a scheme for the destruction of the British fleet in the harbor by means of
fire-ships. The time for the execution of the project had been fixed ;
simultaneously Knowlton and Mercer were to make a descent upon
Staten Island. A succession of unpropitious events thwarted the design
of burning the ships; but the failure of that part of the enterprise did
not deter Knowlton and Mercer from attempting to accomplish theirs.
Twice they made preparations for crossing the straits, but were pre
vented, once by tempestuoi^ weather, and once by deficiency of boats.
At the battle of Long Island the rangers were sent to reinforce Lord
Stirling. All at once the firing in that quarter ceased. Convinced in his
own mind that Stirling had surrendered, Knowlton instantly ordered a
retreat into the lines, which was effected with great celerity, and just in
time to save them from a large body of British Light Horse, who a mo
ment after galloped to the field. Thus the accurate judgment and quick
decision of the Colonel rescued the regiment from a sword wielded that
day with pitiless ferocity.
Subsequently to this disastrous battle, while the Americans were occu
pying the peninsula of New York, and the Brhish the city of Brooklyn,
Gen. Washington was extremely anxious to learn the strength and con
templated movements of the enemy. He accordingly summoned a
council of officers in order that they might deliberate together on a mat
ter of so great importance. They thought it necessary to send a man
into the heart of the British camp, provided any one of proper qualifica
tions could be found, who was willing to go. Col. Knowlton was charged
with the superintendence of the enterprise. When he proposed the plan
to his officers, Nathan Hale, of South Coventry, Conn., one of the cap
tains in Knowlton's regiment, was the only one ready to volunteer his ser-

14 Col. Thomas Knowlton.
vices. The brilliant and versatile talents of Hale led his colonel to
recommend him to Washington, as a person eminently fitted for the peri
lous task. The offer was accepted by the commander-in-chief. The
skill, the fortitude, and the heroic self-devotion exhibited by the youthful
martyr, are familiar to all.
We now approach the closing scene in the career of the brave
Knowlton. The calamities on Long Island, the shameful ffight at Kip's
Bay, the series of misfortunes about New York, that for several months
had uninterruptedly pursued the American flag, and, moreover, the
wretched condition of the troops, produced an all-pervading gloom
throughout the camp and the country. A large and thoroughly disciplined
army, commanded by experienced officers, amply furnished with the
munitions of war, and flushed with successive victories, threatened to ex
terminate the cause of independence. Had not the love of liberty been
a deathless flame in the hearts of our forefathers, they must in this hour
of culminating disasters have abandoned hostilities in despair. But an
unconquerable spirit animated them. From the furnace of affliction
they came forth, scorched and bleeding it is true, yet purified, and ready
to dare more and suffer more for what they had already dared and suf
fered so much.
The main body of our army was now occupying the fortified camp
extending along the upper part'of New York Island. Col. Knowlton, ever
on the alert, had been sent with a detachment of one hundred and fifty
men, to watch the movements of the enemy. Keeping the corps con
cealed, he directed two of the soldiers to reconnoitre the lines. They
were ordered to proceed stealthily and without noise so as to avoid giving
the slightest alarm. On approaching undiscovered within fair gun-shot
of the enemy, yielding to a mad desire they fired upon them, and then
hurried back to the main body. For disobedience to orders they were
severely reprimanded by the colonel. Close at the heels of the scouts
followed six hundred British. Knowlton arranged the detachment behind
a field-fence, but finding that the enemy, four times superior in number,
were bent on gaining the rear and cutting off retreat, he withdrew to a
piece of woods, where he fought with great resolution till overpowered
and driven back by numerical superiority. In the mean time a reinforce
ment was sent from the American camp, under Major Leitch, with orders
to join Knowlton and gain the rear of the British, while a feigned attack
was made upon them in front. As the troops advanced for the false
attack, the enemy ran down the hill to gain a more advantageous position.
While these manoeuvres were executed in front, the main body having
made a circuk to strike the rear, being ignorant of the change in the
disposition of the forces, came upon the enemy's flank. A brisk con
test ensued, in which both sides were reinforced and fought with great
determination, till the enemy were driven from the woods into the plain

Col. Thomas Knowlton. 15
and pursued for some distance. In the hottest of the engagement Maj.
Leitch was borne from the field mortally wounded. Shortly after. Col.
Knowlton, while bravely leading the attack, was shot through the head,
and survived only an hour. His eldest son, a lad who had not yet seen his
sixteenth birth-day, was in the same battle and fired several rounds be
fore he heard the sad intelligence. When word was brought that his
father was dying, he hurried to his side. The hero, gasping in the death
struggle, clasped his hand for a final adieu, and thus addressed him.
" You see, my son, I am mortally wounded ; you can do me no good ; go,
fight for your country." Do the pages of history furnish an instance of
sublimer patriotism ? As the agonies of dissolution were racking the
body of a soldier thus snatched from life in the midst of the glow, and
pomp, and hope of early manhood, solicitude for the country for whose
deliverance he had fought so often and so valiantly, excluded all nar
rower or more personal thoughts. Col. Reed, an eye witness of the
scene, says, " All his inquiry was whether we had driven in the enemy."
In the general orders of the next day. Gen. Washington says, " The
gallant and brave Col. Knowlton, who would have been an honor to any
country., having fallen yesterday while gloriously fighting, Capt. Brown is
to take command of the party lately led by Col. Knowlton."
When the news of the loss of her favorite son reached Ashford, deep
and heart-felt sorrow pervaded the town. Every house became an habi
tation of mourning not less than if one of its own inmates, having gone
to the wars, was to return no more forever. Even the man who was
supposed to be his only enemy, wept like a child.
The writer of this sketch, whose boyhood was passed in Ashford, well
remembers the enthusiasm and affection with which the surviving cotem
poraries of Col. Knowlton always spoke of him.
In person he was six feet high, erect and elegant in figure, and formed
more for activity than strength. He had light complexion, dark hair, and
eyes of deep spiritual beauty. His literary education was confined to
the narrow routine of studies then taught in the common schools. Yet
the possession of an intellect naturally bright, g,nd quick to profit by the
experiences and associations of military life, caused his companionship to
be sought by the most cultivated. He was courteous and affable in man
ners, and wholly free from ostentation and egotism. Ever willing to
bestow on others the praise due to their merit, he received the applause
due to himself without a murmur of dissent. Calm and collected in
battle, and, if necessity required, ready to lead where any could be found
to follow — he knew no fear of danger. The favorite of superior officers,
the idol of his soldiers and fellow-townsmen, he fell universally lamented.
Half a century afterwards, a grandson of Col. Knowlton, travelling in
New Hampshire, casually met a Revolutionary soldier, who, in rehearsing
the story of his campaigns, mentioned the engagement at Harlem Heights

16 Col. Thomas Knowlton.
where he fought under Knowlton. On learning that the young man was
a descendant of his former commander, tbe old gentleman pressed him
with invitations to pass the night at his house, nor would he listen to any
excuse. The confidence that he had reposed in Knowlton, when they
were companions in arms, was seemingly unlimited. He remarked, that
" the colonel was the mildest and most agreeable man he ever knew —
that nothing of a rough or harsh nature ever passed his lips — that he was
universally respected by those under his command as well as those asso
ciated with him." Such were the sentiments with regard to Col. Knowl
ton invariably entertained by those who knew him.
And what has been done by our country to honor the name of the man
who, at the first note of warning, drew the sword for liberty, never laying
it aside till his arm was cold in death .? Have a grateful people, living
in the midst of the prosperity purchased at so great cost of revolutionary
suffering and revolutionary blood, reared for him any monument to tell
the world that her defenders are embalmed in perpetual remembrance }
Has the government of the United States whose faithful soldier he was,
or the city of New York whose soil he died to defend, or the Common
wealth of Connecticut that points with pride to his name as one of her
brightest jewels, ever offered this slight tribute of filial duty } To all
such inquiries we must answer in the negative. The only monument to
his memory is a very plain cenotaph, planted by the hand of affection in
the cemetery at Ashford, and cut with this inscription : " This monument
is erected in memory of Col. Thomas Knowlton and his wife. That
brave colonel, in defence of his country, fell in battle, Sep. 16th 1776,
at Hariem Heights, Island of N. York, M 36 years.""'
• Col. Knowlton was buried with military honors near the road leading
from Kingsbridge to the city. ¦>

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