Congress, jealous of the public agents, because ignorant of what was really necessary, repeatedly changed the form of its engagements with them, and, at length, by its fluctuating policy, real wants, and imprudent parsimony, brought matters to such extremities that Washington was compelled to require the several counties of the State of New Jersey to furnish his army with certain quantities of provisions within six days in order to prevent them from being taken by force. Although the province was much exhausted, yet the people instantly complied with the requisition and furnished a temporary supply to the army. [1]

Soon after Clinton sailed on his expedition against Charleston a frost of unexampled intensity began. The Hudson, East river, and all the waters around New York were so completely frozen that an army with its artillery and wagons might have crossed them in all directions with perfect safety. New York lost all the advantages of its insular situation and became easily accessible on every side. The city was fortified by the British, but on account of its insular situation, several parts being considered of difficult access were left undefended. By the strength of the ice, however, every point became exposed, and in that unforeseen emergency, Knyphausen who commanded in the city with a garrison of 10,000 men took every prudent precaution for his defense and fortified every vulnerable part, but the inefficiency of the American army was his best security. Washington easily perceived the advantages which the extraordinary frost gave him, but from the destitute state of his army he was unable to avail himself of them. The army under his immediate command was inferior in number to the garrison of New York; it was also ill clad, scantily supplied with provisions, and in no condition to undertake offensive operations.

The British had a post on Staten Island, and as the ice opened a free communication between the island and the New Jersey coast, Washington, notwithstanding the enfeebled condition of his army resolved to attack the garrison, and appointed Lord Stirling to conduct the enterprise. The night of the 14th of January (1780) was chosen for the attempt, but, though the Americans used every precaution, the officer commanding on Staten Island discovered their intention and took effectual measures to defeat it. The attack was repulsed, but little loss was sustained on either side.

The extreme cold occasioned much suffering in New York by want of provisions and fuel, for as the communication by water was entirely stopped the usual supplies, were cut off. The demand for fuel in particular was so pressing that it was found expedient to break up some old transports, and to pull down some uninhabited wooden houses for the purpose of procuring that necessary article. As the British paid in ready money for provisions or firewood carried within the lines many of the country people, tempted by the precious metals, so rare among them, tried to supply the garrison. The endeavors of the British to encourage and protect this intercourse and the exertions of the Americans to prevent it brought on a sort of partisan warfare in which the former most frequently had the advantage. In one of the most important of those encounters, early in February (1780), near White Plains, a captain and 14 men of a Massachusetts regiment were killed on the spot, 17 were wounded, and 90, with Colonel Thompson, the officer who commanded the party, were made prisoners. Washington, writing to General Heath respecting this affair, says: "It is some consolation that our officers and men appear to have made a brave resistance. I cannot help suspecting that our officers in advance quarter too long in a place. By these means the enemy by their emissaries gain a perfect knowledge of their cantonments and form their attacks accordingly. Were they to shift constantly the enemy could scarcely ever attain this knowledge."

Congress found itself placed in very difficult circumstances. It always contained a number of men of talents and manifested no small share of vigor and activity. Many of the members were skilful in the management of their private affairs, and having been successful in the world thought themselves competent to direct the most important national concerns, although unacquainted with the principles of finance, legislation, or war. Animated by that blind presumption which generally characterizes popular assemblies they often entered into resolutions which discovered little practical wisdom. In pecuniary matters they were dilatory and never anticipated trying emergencies, or made provision for probable events, till they were overtaken by some urgent necessity. Hence they were frequently deliberating about levying troops and supplying the army when the troops ought to have been in the field, and the army fully equipped for active service. This often placed Washington in the most trying and perilous circumstances.

Congress had solemnly resolved not to exceed $200,000,000 in Continental bills of credit. In November, 1779, the whole of that sum was issued and expended also. The demand on the States to replenish the treasury by taxes had not been fully complied with, and even although it had been completely answered would not have furnished a sum adequate to the expenses of government. Instead of maturely considering and digesting a plan, adhering to it, and improving it by experience, Congress often changed its measures, and even in the midst of those distresses which had brought the army to the verge of dissolution, was busy in devising new and untried expedients for supporting it. As the treasury was empty and money could not be raised, Congress, on the 25th of February (1780), resolved to call on the several States for their proportion of provisions, spirits, and forage for the maintenance of the army during the ensuing campaign, but specified no time within which these were to be collected, and consequently the States were in no haste in the matter. In order to encourage and facilitate compliance with this requisition it was further resolved that any State which should have taken the necessary measures for furnishing its quota, and given notice thereof to Congress, should be authorized to prohibit any Continental quartermaster or commissary from purchasing within its limits.

Every man who had a practical knowledge of the subject easily perceived the defective nature and dangerous tendency of this arrangement. It was an attempt to carry on the war rather by separate provincial efforts than by a combination of national strength, and if the army received from any State where it was acting the appointed quantity of necessaries it had no right, though starving, to purchase what it stood in need of. Besides the carriage of provisions from distant parts was troublesome, expensive, and sometimes impracticable.

The troops were ill clothed, their pay was in arrear, and that of the officers, owing to the great depreciation of the paper currency, was wholly unequal to their decent maintenance. These multiplied privations and sufferings soured the temper of the men, and it required all the influence of Washington to prevent many of the officers from resigning their commissions. The long continuance of want and hardship produced relaxation of discipline which at length manifested itself in open mutiny. On the 25th of May (1780) two regiments belonging to Connecticut paraded under arms, with the avowed intention of returning home, or of obtaining subsistence at the point of the bayonet. The rest of the soldiers, though they did not join in the mutiny, showed little disposition to suppress it. At length the two regiments were brought back to their duty, but much murmuring and many complaints were heard. While the army was in such want the inhabitants of New Jersey, where most of the troops were stationed, were unavoidably harassed by frequent requisitions, which excited considerable discontent. Reports of the mutinous state of the American army and of the dissatisfaction of the people of New Jersey, probably much exaggerated, were carried to General Knyphausen, who, believing the American soldiers ready to desert their standards and the inhabitants of New Jersey willing to abandon the Union, on the 6th of June (1780), passed from Staten Island to Elizabethtown, in Jersey, with 5,000 men. That movement was intended to encourage the mutinous disposition of the American troops, and to fan the flame of discontent among the inhabitants of the province. Early next morning he marched into the country toward Springfield by the way of Connecticut Farms, a flourishing plantation, so named because the cultivators had come from Connecticut. But even before reaching that place which was only five or six miles from Elizabethtown, the British perceived that the reports which they had received concerning the discontent of the Americans were incorrect, for on the first alarm the militia assembled with great alacrity and aided by some small parties of regular troops, annoyed the British by an irregular but galling fire of musketry, wherever the nature of the ground presented a favorable opportunity, and although those parties were nowhere strong enough to make a stand, yet they gave plain indications of the temper and resolution which were to be encountered in advancing into the country. At Connecticut Farms the British detachment halted. The settlers were known to be zealous in the American cause and therefore with a little spirit of revenge, the British, among whom was General Tryon, laid the flourishing village, with its church and the minister's house, in ashes. Here occurred one of those affecting incidents which being somewhat out of the ordinary course of the miseries of war make a deep impression on the public mind. Mr. Caldwell, minister of the place, had withdrawn toward Springfield, but had left his wife and family behind believing them to be in no danger. The British advanced to the industrious and peaceful village. Mrs. Caldwell, trusting to her sex for safety and unsuspicious of harm, was sitting in her house with her children around her when a soldier came up, leveled his musket at the window, and shot her dead on the spot in the midst of her terrified family. On the intercession of a friend the dead body was permitted to be removed when the house was set on fire. This atrocious deed excited such general horror and detestation that the British thought proper to disavow it, and to impute the death of Mrs. Caldwell to a random shot from the retreating militia, though the militia did not fire a musket in the village. The wanton murder of the lady might be the unauthorized act of a savage individual, but can the burning of the house after her death be accounted for in the same way? Knyphausen was a veteran officer and cannot be supposed capable of entering into local animosities or of countenancing such brutality, but Tryon was present and his conduct on other occasions was not unblemished.

Mr. Caldwell had rendered himself particularly obnoxious to the enemy, and was cordially hated by Tryon for his zealous devotion to the patriotic cause. He had served as a chaplain in the army, was exceedingly popular among the patriots of New Jersey, had given up his church to be used as a hospital, and had exerted himself by eloquent appeals to arouse his countrymen to unflinching resistance against the enemy. For this Tryon caused his church to be burnt and did not prevent the soldiers from shooting his wife.

After destroying the Connecticut Farms, Knyphausen advanced toward Springfield, where the Jersey brigade, under General Maxwell, and a large body of militia had taken an advantageous position and seemed resolved to defend it. General Knyphausen, however, had met with a reception so different from what he expected that without making any attempt on the American post he withdrew during the night to Elizabethtown.

On being informed of the invasion of New Jersey, Washington put his army in motion early on the morning of the day in which Knyphausen marched from Elizabethtown and proceeded to the Short hills behind Springfield, while the British were in the vicinity of that place. Feeble as his army was, he made the necessary dispositions for fighting, but the unexpected retreat of Knyphausen rendered a battle unnecessary. The British were followed by an American detachment, which attacked their rear guard next morning but was repulsed. Instead of returning to New York, Knyphausen lingered in the vicinity of Elizabethtown and on Staten Island, and Washington, unwilling with his inadequate force to hazard an engagement except on advantageous ground, remained on the hills near Springfield to watch the movements of the British army. At that time the army under the immediate orders of Washington did not exceed 4,000 effective men.

On the 18th of June (1780), Sir Henry Clinton returned from South Carolina with about 4,000 men, and after receiving this reinforcement the British force in New York and its dependencies amounted to 12,000 effective and regular troops, most of whom could be brought into the field for any particular service; besides these, the British commander had about 4,000 militia and refugees for garrison duty. The British army directed on any one point would have been irresistible; therefore Washington could only follow a wary policy, occupying strong ground, presenting a bold front, and concealing the weakness of his army as far as possible.

The embarkation of troops by Sir Henry Clinton awakened the apprehensions of Washington lest he should sail up the Hudson and attack the posts in the Highlands. Those posts had always been objects of much solicitude to Washington, and he was extremely jealous of any attack upon them. In order to be in readiness to resist any such attack, he left General Greene at Springfield, with 700 Continentals, the Jersey militia, and some cavalry, and proceeded toward Pompton with the main body of the army. Sir Henry Clinton, after having perplexed the Americans by his movements, early on the morning of the 23d of June (1780), rapidly advanced in full force from Elizabethtown toward Springfield. General Greene hastily assembled his scattered detachments and apprised Washington of the march of the royal army, who instantly returned to support Greene's division. The British marched in two columns—one on the main road leading to Springfield and the other on the Vauxhall road. Greene scarcely had time to collect his troops at Springfield and make the necessary dispositions when the royal army appeared before the town and a cannonade immediately began. A fordable rivulet, with bridges corresponding to the different roads, runs in front of the place. Greene had stationed parties to guard the bridges and they obstinately disputed the passage, but after a smart conflict they were overpowered and compelled to retreat.

Greene then fell back and took post on a range of hills, where he expected to be again attacked. But the British, instead of attempting to pursue their advantage, contented themselves with setting fire to the village and laying the greater part of it in ashes. Discouraged by the obstinate resistance they had received and ignorant of the weakness of the detachment which opposed them, they immediately retreated to Elizabethtown, pursued with the utmost animosity by the militia, who were provoked at the burning of Springfield. They arrived at Elizabethtown about sunset, and, continuing their march to Elizabeth Point, began at midnight to pass over to Staten Island. Before 6 next morning they had entirely evacuated the Jerseys and removed the bridge of boats which communicated with Staten Island.

In the skirmish at Springfield the Americans had about 20 men killed and 60 wounded. The British suffered a corresponding loss. Clinton's object in this expedition seems to have been to destroy the American magazines in that part of the country. But the obstinate resistance which he met with at Springfield deterred him from advancing into a district abounding in difficult passes, where every strong position would be vigorously defended. He seems also to have been checked by the apprehension of a fleet and army from France.

Washington was informed of Clinton's march soon after the British left Elizabethtown, but, though he hastily returned, the skirmish at Springfield was over before he reached the vicinity of that place.

After Clinton left the Jerseys, Washington planned an enterprise against a British post at Bergen point, on the Hudson, opposite New York, garrisoned by seventy Loyalists. It was intended to reduce the post and also to carry off a number of cattle on Bergen Neck, from which the garrison of New York occasionally received supplies of fresh provisions. General Wayne was appointed to conduct the enterprise. With a respectable force he marched against the post, which consisted of a blockhouse covered by an abattis and palisade. Wayne pointed his artillery against the blockhouse, but his field pieces made no impression on the logs. Galled by the fire from the loopholes, some of his men rushed impetuously through the abattis and attempted to storm the blockhouse, but they were repulsed with considerable loss. Though the Americans, however, failed in their attempt against the post, they succeeded in driving off most of the cattle.

On the commencement of hostilities in Europe, Lafayette, as we have seen, returned home in order to offer his services to his King, still, however, retaining his rank in the army of Congress. His ardor in behalf of the Americans remained unabated and he exerted all his influence with the court of Versailles to gain its effectual support to the United States. His efforts were successful and the King of France resolved vigorously to assist the Americans both by sea and land. Having gained this important point, and perceiving that there was no need for his military services in Europe, he obtained leave from his sovereign to return to America and join his former companions in arms. He landed at Boston toward the end of April (1780), and, on his way to Congress, called at the headquarters of Washington and informed him of the powerful succor which might soon be expected from France. He met with a most cordial reception both from Congress and Washington on account of his high rank, tried friendship, and distinguished services.

The assistance expected from their powerful ally was very encouraging to the Americans, but called for corresponding exertions on their part. Washington found himself in the most perplexing circumstances; his army was feeble, and he could form no plan for the campaign till he knew what forces were to be put under his orders. His troops, both officers and privates, were ill clothed and needed to be decently appareled before they could be led into the field to cooperate with soldiers in respectable uniforms, for his half-naked battalions would only have been objects of contempt and derision to their better-dressed allies. In order to supply these defects and to get his army in a state of due preparation before the arrival of the European auxiliaries, Washington made the most pressing applications to Congress and to the several State Legislatures. Congress resolved and recommended, but the States were dilatory, and their tardy proceedings ill accorded with the exigencies of the case or with the expectations of those who best understood the affairs of the Union. Even on the 4th of July (1780), Washington had the mortification to find that few new levies had arrived in camp and some of the States had not even taken the trouble to inform him of the number of men they intended to furnish.

In the month of June the State of Massachusetts had resolved to send a reinforcement, but no part of it had yet arrived. About the same time a voluntary subscription was entered into in Philadelphia for the purpose of providing bounties to recruits to fill up the Pennsylvania line, and the President or Vice-President in council was empowered, if circumstances required it, to put the State under martial law.

The merchants and other citizens of Philadelphia, with a zeal guided by that sound discretion which turns expenditure to the best account, established a bank, for the support of which they subscribed L315,000, Pennsylvania money, to be paid, if required, in specie, the principal object of which was to supply the army with provisions. By the plan of this bank its members were to derive no emolument whatever from the institution. For advancing their credit and their money they required only that Congress should pledge the faith of the Union to reimburse the costs and charges of the transaction in a reasonable time, and should give such assistance to its execution as might be in their power.

The ladies of Philadelphia, too, gave a splendid example of patriotism by large donations for the immediate relief of the suffering army. [2]

This example was extensively followed, but it is not by the contributions of the generous that a war can or ought to be maintained. The purse of a nation alone can supply the expenditures of a nation, and when all are interested in a contest all ought to contribute to its support. Taxes and taxes only can furnish for the prosecution of a national war means which are just in themselves or competent to the object.

Notwithstanding these donations the distresses of the army, for clothing especially, still continued and were the more severely felt when a cooperation with French troops was expected. So late as the 20th of June (1780) Washington informed Congress that he still labored under the painful and humiliating embarrassment of having no shirts for the soldiers, many of whom were destitute of that necessary article. "For the troops to be without clothing at any time," he added, "is highly injurious to the service and distressing to our feelings, but the want will be more peculiarly mortifying when they come to act with those of our allies. If it be possible, I have no doubt immediate measures will be taken to relieve their distress.

"It is also most sincerely wished that there could be some supplies of clothing furnished to the officers. There are a great many whose condition is still miserable. This is, in some instances, the case with the whole lines of the States. It would be well for their own sakes and for the public good if they could be furnished. They will not be able, when our friends come to cooperate with us, to go on a common routine of duty, and if they should, they must, from their appearance, be held in low estimation."

This picture presents in strong colors the real patriotism of the American army. One heroic effort, though it may dazzle the mind with its splendor, is an exertion most men are capable of making, but continued patient suffering and unremitting perseverance in a service promising no personal emolument and exposing the officer unceasingly not only to wants of every kind, but to those circumstances of humiliation which seem to degrade him in the eyes of others, demonstrate a fortitude of mind, a strength of virtue, and a firmness of principle which ought never to be forgotten.

Washington was greatly embarrassed by his uncertainty with respect to the force which he might count upon to cooperate with the expected succors from France. Writing to Congress on this subject he said: "The season is come when we have every reason to expect the arrival of the fleet, and yet, for want of this point of primary consequence, it is impossible for me to form a system of cooperation. I have no basis to act upon, and, of course, were this generous succor of our ally now to arrive, I should find myself in the most awkward, embarrassing, and painful situation. The general and the admiral, from the relation in which I stand, as soon as they approach our coast, will require of me a plan of the measures to be pursued, and there ought of right to be one prepared; but, circumstanced as I am, I cannot even give them conjectures. From these considerations I have suggested to the committee, by a letter I had the honor of addressing them yesterday, the indispensable necessity of their writing again to the States, urging them to give immediate and precise information of the measures they have taken and of the result. The interest of the States, the honor and reputation of our councils, the justice and gratitude due to our allies, all require that I should, without delay, be enabled to ascertain and inform them what we can or cannot undertake. There is a point which ought now to be determined, on the success of which all our future operations may depend, on which, for want of knowing our prospects, I can make no decision. For fear of involving the fleet and army of our allies in circumstances which would expose them, if not seconded by us, to material inconvenience and hazard, I shall be compelled to suspend it, and the delay may be fatal to our hopes."

While this uncertainty still continued, the expected succors from France, consisting of a fleet of eight ships of the line, with frigates and other vessels, under the Chevalier de Ternay, having about 6,000 troops on board under General the Count de Rochambeau, reached Rhode Island on the evening of the 10th of July (1780), and in a few days afterward Lafayette arrived at Newport from Washington's headquarters to confer with his countrymen.

At the time of the arrival of the French in Rhode Island, Admiral Arbuthnot had only four sail of the line at New York, but in a few days Admiral Graves arrived from England with six sail of the line, which gave the British a decided superiority over the French squadron, and therefore Sir Henry Clinton, without delay, prepared for active operations. He embarked about 8,000 men and sailed with the fleet to Huntington bay, in Long Island, with the intention of proceeding against the French at Newport. The militia of Massachusetts and Connecticut were ordered by Washington to join the French forces in Rhode Island, and the combined army there thought itself able to give the British a good reception.

As the garrison of New York was weakened by the sailing of the armament under Clinton, Washington, having received considerable reinforcements, suddenly crossed the North river and advanced toward New York; that movement brought Clinton back to defend the place and consequently Washington proceeded no further in his meditated enterprise.

The want of money and of all necessaries still continued in the American camp, and the discontent of the troops, gradually increasing, was matured into a dangerous spirit of insubordination. The men, indeed, bore incredible hardships and privations with unexampled fortitude and patience, but the army was in a state of constant fluctuation; it was composed, in a great measure, of militia harassed by perpetual service and obliged to neglect the cultivation of their farms and their private interests in order to obey the calls of public duty, and of soldiers on short enlistments, who never acquired the military spirit and habits.

In consequence of an appointment, Washington and suite set out to a conference with Count Rochambeau and Admiral de Ternay, and on the 21st of September (1780) met them at Hartford, in Connecticut, where they spent a few days together, and conversed about a plan for the next campaign.

The conference was useful in making the respective commanders well acquainted with each other, and promoting a spirit of harmony between them; but it led to no settled plan for the next campaign. A plan of operations for the combined forces, which had been drawn up by Washington and sent to Rochambeau by Lafayette when he went to Newport, had contemplated the superiority of the naval force of the French, which had now ceased to exist in consequence of the arrival of Admiral Graves with a fleet of six ships of the line. It was consequently agreed that nothing could be done in the way of offensive movements until the arrival of a second division of the French fleet and army from Brest, which was expected, or that of the Count de Guichen from the West Indies. In the sequel, neither of these arrivals took place. The second French division was blockaded at Brest, and never came to this country, and de Guichen sailed direct to France from the West Indies. Meantime Admiral Arbuthnot blockaded the French fleet at Newport, and Rochambeau's army remained there for its protection. Both the parties remained watching each other's movements, and depending on the operations of the British and French fleets. Washington crossed the Hudson to Tappan and remained there till winter.

Washington did not relinquish without infinite chagrin the sanguine expectations he had formed of rendering this campaign decisive of the war. Never before had he indulged so strongly the hope of happily terminating the contest. In a letter to an intimate friend, this chagrin was thus expressed: "We are now drawing to a close an inactive campaign, the beginning of which appeared pregnant with events of a very favorable complexion. I hoped, but I hoped in vain, that a prospect was opening which would enable me to fix a period to my military pursuits and restore me to domestic life. The favorable disposition of Spain, the promised succor from France, the combined force in the West Indies, the declaration of Russia (acceded to by other powers of Europe, humiliating the naval pride and power of Great Britain), the superiority of France and Spain by sea in Europe, the Irish claims and English disturbances, formed in the aggregate an opinion in my breast (which is not very susceptible of peaceful dreams), that the hour of deliverance was not far distant; for that, however unwilling Great Britain might be to yield the point, it would not be in her power to continue the contest. But, alas, these prospects, flattering as they were, have proved delusive, and I see nothing before us but accumulating distress. We have been half of our time without provisions and are likely to continue so. We have no magazines nor money to form them. We have lived upon expedients until we can live no longer. In a word, the history of the war is a history of false hopes and temporary devices, instead of system and economy. It is in vain, however, to look back, nor is it our business to do so. Our case is not desperate if virtue exists in the people, and there is wisdom among our rulers. But to suppose that this great revolution can be accomplished by a temporary army, that this army will be subsisted by State supplies and that taxation alone is adequate to our wants is in my opinion absurd, and as unreasonable as to expect an inversion of the order of nature to accommodate itself to our views. If it were necessary it could be easily proved to any person of a moderate understanding that an annual army or any army raised on the spur of the occasion besides being unqualified for the end designed is, in various ways that could be enumerated, ten times more expensive than a permanent body of men under good organization and military discipline, which never was nor will be the case with raw troops. A thousand arguments, resulting from experience and the nature of things, might also be adduced to prove that the army, if it is to depend upon State supplies, must disband or starve, and that taxation alone (especially at this late hour) cannot furnish the means to carry on the war. Is it not time to retract from error and benefit by experience? Or do we want further proof of the ruinous system we have pertinaciously adhered to?"

While the respective armies were in the state of inaction to which we have just referred, the whole country was astounded by the discovery of Arnold's treason. The details of this sad affair disclosed traits in the character of this officer which were previously unknown, and, by the public generally, unsuspected.

The great service and military talents of General Arnold, his courage in battle and patient fortitude under excessive hardships had secured to him a high place in the opinion of the army and of his country. Not having sufficiently recovered from the wounds received before Quebec and at Saratoga to be fit for active service, and having large accounts to settle with the government, which required leisure, he was, on the evacuation of Philadelphia in 1778, appointed to the command in that place.

Unfortunately that strength of principle and correctness of judgment which might enable him to resist the various seductions to which his fame and rank exposed him in the metropolis of the Union, were not associated with the firmness which he had displayed in the field and in the most adverse circumstances. Yielding to the temptations of a false pride and forgetting that he did not possess the resources of private fortune, he indulged in the pleasures of a sumptuous table and expensive equipage, and soon swelled his debts to an amount which it was impossible for him to discharge. Unmindful of his military character, he engaged in speculations which were unfortunate, and with the hope of immense profits took shares in privateers which were unsuccessful. His claims against the United States were great and he looked to them for the means of extricating himself from the embarrassments in which his indiscretions had involved him; but the commissioners to whom his accounts were referred for settlement had reduced them considerably, and on his appeal from their decision to Congress, a committee reported that the sum allowed by the commissioners was more than he was entitled to receive.

He was charged with various acts of extortion on the citizens of Philadelphia, and with peculating on the public funds. [3]

Not the less soured by these multiplied causes of irritation, from the reflection that they were attributable to his own follies and vices, he gave full scope to his resentments, and indulged himself in expressions of angry reproach against what he termed the ingratitude of his country, which provoked those around him, and gave great offense to Congress. Having become peculiarly odious to the government of Pennsylvania, the executive of that State (President Reed, formerly aid to Washington) exhibited formal charges against him to Congress, who directed that he should be arrested and brought before a court-martial. His trial was concluded late in January, 1779, and he was sentenced to be reprimanded by the Commander-in-Chief. This sentence was approved by Congress and carried into execution. [4]

From the time the sentence against him was approved, if not sooner, his proud unprincipled spirit revolted from the cause of his country and determined him to seek an occasion to make the objects of his resentment the victims of his vengeance.

Turning his eyes on West Point as an acquisition which would give value to treason and inflict a mortal wound on his former friends, he sought the command of that fortress for the purpose of gratifying both his avarice and his hate.

To New York the safety of West Point was peculiarly interesting, and in that State the reputation of Arnold was particularly high. To its delegation he addressed himself; and one of its members had written a letter to Washington, suggesting doubts respecting the military character of General Robert Howe, to whom its defense was then entrusted, and recommending Arnold for that service. This request was not forgotten. Some short time afterward General Schuyler mentioned to Washington a letter he had received from Arnold intimating his wish to join the army, but stating his inability, in consequence of his wounds, to perform the active duties of the field. Washington observed that, as there was a prospect of a vigorous campaign he should be gratified with the aid of General Arnold—that so soon as the operations against New York should commence, he designed to draw his whole force into the field, leaving even West Point to the care of invalids and a small garrison of militia. Recollecting, however, the former application of a member of Congress respecting this post, he added that "if, with this previous information, that situation would be more agreeable to him than a command in the field, his wishes should certainly be indulged."

This conversation being communicated to Arnold, he caught eagerly at the proposition, though without openly discovering any solicitude on the subject, and in the beginning of August (1780) repaired to camp, where he renewed the solicitations which had before been made indirectly.

At this juncture Clinton embarked on an expedition he meditated against Rhode Island, and Washington was advancing on New York. He offered Arnold the left wing of the army, which he declined under the pretexts mentioned in his letter to Schuyler.

Incapable of suspecting a man who had given such distinguished proofs of courage and patriotism, Washington was neither alarmed at his refusal to embrace so splendid an opportunity of recovering the favor of his countrymen nor at the embarrassment accompanying that refusal. Pressing the subject no further, he assented to the request which had been made and invested Arnold with the command of West Point. Previous to his soliciting this station Arnold had, in a letter to Colonel Robinson, of the British army, signified his change of principles, and his wish to restore himself to the favor of his prince by some signal proof of his repentance. This letter opened the way to a correspondence with Clinton, the immediate object of which, after obtaining the appointment he had solicited, was to concert the means of delivering the important post he commanded to the British general.

Major John Andre, an aide-de-camp of Clinton, and adjutant-general of the British army, was selected as the person to whom the maturing of Arnold's treason, and the arrangements for its execution should be entrusted. A correspondence was carried on between them under a mercantile disguise in the feigned names of Gustavus and Anderson; and at length, to facilitate their communications, the Vulture, sloop-of-war, moved up the North river and took a station convenient for the purpose, but not so near as to excite suspicion.

The time when Washington met Rochambeau at Hartford was selected for the final adjustment of the plan, and as a personal interview was deemed necessary Andre came up the river and went on board the Vulture. The house of a Mr. Smith, without the American posts, was appointed for the interview, and to that place both parties repaired in the night—Andre being brought under a pass for John Anderson in a boat dispatched from the shore. While the conference was yet unfinished, daylight approached, and to avoid discovery Arnold proposed that Andre should remain concealed until the succeeding night. They continued together during the day, and when, in the following night, his return to the Vulture was proposed, the boatmen refused to carry him because she had shifted her station during the day, in consequence of a gun which was moved to the shore without the knowledge of Arnold and brought to bear upon her. This embarrassing circumstance reduced him to the necessity of endeavoring to reach New York by land. To accomplish this purpose, he reluctantly yielded to the urgent representations of Arnold, and laying aside his regimentals, which he had hitherto worn under a surtout, put on a plain suit of clothes and received a pass from Arnold, authorizing him, under the name of John Anderson, to proceed on the public service to White Plains or lower if he thought proper.

With this permit he had passed all the guards and posts on the road unsuspected and was proceeding to New York in perfect security, when one of three militiamen who [5]

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night, and the other troops lay on the field of battle with their arms in their hands. Washington passed the night in his cloak in the midst of his soldiers. The British employed the early part of the morning in removing their wounded, and about midnight marched away in such silence that their retreat was not perceived until day.

As it was certain that they must gain the high grounds about Middletown before they could be overtaken, as the face of the country afforded no prospect of opposing their embarkation, and as the battle already fought had terminated in a manner to make a general impression favorable to the American arms, Washington decided to relinquish the pursuit. Leaving a detachment to hover about the British rear, the main body of the army moved towards the Hudson.

Washington was highly gratified with the conduct of his troops in this action. Their behavior, he said, after recovering from the first surprise occasioned by the unexpected retreat of the advanced corps, could not be surpassed. Wayne he particularly mentioned, and spoke of the artillery in terms of high praise.

The loss of the Americans in the battle of Monmouth was 8 officers and 61 privates killed, and about 160 wounded. Among the slain were Lieutenant-Colonel Bonner, of Pennsylvania, and Major Dickinson, of Virginia, both of whom were much regretted. One hundred and thirty were missing, but a considerable number of these afterward rejoined their regiments.

In his official letter, Sir Henry Clinton states his dead and missing at 4 officers and 184 privates; his wounded, at 16 officers and 154 privates. This account, so far as it respects the dead, cannot be correct, as 4 officers and 245 privates were buried on the field by persons appointed for the purpose, who made their report to Washington; and some few were afterward found, so as to increase the number to nearly 300. The uncommon heat of the day proved fatal to several on both sides.

As usual, when a battle has not been decisive, both parties claimed the victory. In the early part of the day the advantage was certainly with the British; in the latter part it may be pronounced with equal certainty to have been with the Americans. They maintained their ground, repulsed the enemy, were prevented only by the night and by the retreat of the hostile army from renewing the action, and suffered less in killed and wounded than their adversaries.

It is true that Sir Henry Clinton effected what he states to have been his principal object—the safety of his baggage. But when it is recollected that the American officers had decided against hazarding an action, that this advice must have trammeled the conduct and circumscribed the views of Washington, he will be admitted to have effected no inconsiderable object in giving the American arms that appearance of superiority which was certainly acquired by this engagement.

Independent of the loss sustained in the action, the British army was considerably weakened in its march from Philadelphia to New York. About 100 prisoners were made, and near 1,000 soldiers, chiefly foreigners, deserted while passing through Jersey. Many of the soldiers had formed attachments in Philadelphia, which occasioned their desertion. Clinton's whole loss, including killed, wounded, prisoners, and deserters, amounted to at least 2,000 men.

The conduct of Lee was generally disapproved. As, however, he had possessed a large share of the confidence and good opinion of the Commander-in-Chief, it

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were employed between the lines of the two armies, springing suddenly from his covert into the road, seized the reins of his bridle and stopped his horse. Losing his accustomed self possession, Andre, instead of producing the pass from Arnold, asked the man hastily where he belonged. He replied, "To below," a term implying that he was from New York. "And so," said Andre, not suspecting deception, "am I." He then declared himself to be a British officer on urgent business, and begged that he might not be detained. The appearance of the other militiamen disclosed his mistake too late to correct it. He offered a purse of gold and a valuable watch, with tempting promises of ample reward from his government if they would, permit him to escape; but his offers were rejected, and his captors proceeded to search him. They found concealed in his stockings, in Arnold's handwriting, papers containing all the information which could be important respecting West Point. When carried before Lieutenant-Colonel Jameson, the officer commanding the scouting parties on the lines, he maintained his assumed character and requested Jameson to inform his commanding officer that Anderson was taken. Jameson dispatched an express with this communication. On receiving it, Arnold comprehended the full extent of his danger, and flying from well-merited punishment took refuge on board the Vulture.

When sufficient time for the escape of Arnold was supposed to have elapsed, Andre, no longer effecting concealment, acknowledged himself to be the adjutant-general of the British army. Jameson, seeking to correct the mischief of his indiscreet communication to Arnold, immediately dispatched a packet to the Commander-in-Chief containing the papers which had been discovered, with a letter from Andre relating the manner of his capture and accounting for the disguise he had assumed.

The express was directed to meet the Commander-in-Chief, who was then on his return from Hartford, but, taking different roads, they missed each other, and a delay attended the delivery of the papers, which ensured the escape of Arnold.

Washington, with Generals Lafayette and Knox, had turned from the direct route in order to visit a redoubt. Colonels Hamilton and M'Henry, the aides-de-camp of Washington and Lafayette, went forward to request Mrs. Arnold not to wait breakfast. Arnold received Andre's billet in their presence. He turned pale, left them suddenly, called his wife, communicated the intelligence to her, and left her in a swoon, without the knowledge of Hamilton and M'Henry. Mounting the horse of his aide-de-camp, which was ready saddled, and directing him to inform Washington on his arrival that Arnold was gone to receive him at West Point, he gained the river shore, and was conveyed in a canoe to the Vulture.

Washington, on his arrival, was informed that Arnold awaited him at West Point. Taking it for granted that this step had been taken to prepare for his reception he proceeded thither without entering the house, and was surprised to find that Arnold was not arrived. On returning to the quarters of that officer he received Jameson's dispatch which disclosed the whole mystery.

Every precaution was immediately taken for the security of West Point, after which the attention of the Commander-in-Chief was turned to Andre. A board of general officers, of which General Greene was president, and Lafayette and Steuben were members, was called, to report a precise state of his case, and to determine the character in which he was to be considered, and the punishment to which he was liable.

The frankness and magnanimity with which Andre had conducted himself from the time of his appearance in his real character had made a very favorable impression on all those with whom he had held any intercourse. From this cause he experienced every mark of indulgent attention which was compatible with his situation, and, from a sense of justice as well as of delicacy, was informed, on the opening of the examination that he was at liberty not to answer any interrogatory which might embarrass his own feelings. But, as if only desirous to rescue his character from imputations which he dreaded more than death, he confessed everything material to his own condemnation, but would divulge nothing which might involve others.

The board reported the essential facts which had appeared, with their opinion that Major Andre was a spy and ought to suffer death. The execution of this sentence was ordered to take place on the day succeeding that on which it was pronounced.

Superior to the terrors of death, but dreading disgrace, Andre was deeply affected by the mode of execution which the laws of war decree to persons in his situation. He wished to die like a soldier not as a criminal. To obtain a mitigation of his sentence in this respect he addressed a letter to Washington, replete with the feelings of a man of sentiment and honor. But the occasion required that the example should make its full impression, and this request could not be granted. He encountered his fate with composure and dignity, and his whole conduct interested the feelings of all who witnessed it.

The general officers lamented the sentence which the usages of war compelled them to pronounce, and never perhaps did the Commander-in- Chief obey with more reluctance the stern mandates of duty and policy. The sympathy excited among the American officers by his fate was as universal as it is unusual on such occasions, and proclaims alike the merit of him who suffered, and the humanity of those who inflicted the punishment.

Great exertions were made by Sir Henry Clinton, to whom Andre was particularly dear, first, to have him considered as protected by a flag of truce, and afterward as a prisoner of war.

Even Arnold had the hardihood to interpose. After giving a certificate of facts tending, as he supposed, to exculpate the prisoner, exhausting his powers of reasoning on the case, and appealing to the humanity of Washington, he sought to intimidate that officer by stating the situation of many of the most distinguished individuals of South Carolina, who had forfeited their lives, but had hitherto been spared through the clemency of the British general. This clemency, he said, could no longer be extended to them should Major Andre suffer.

It may well be supposed that the interposition of Arnold could have no influence on Washington. He caused Mrs. Arnold to be conveyed to her husband in New York, and also transmitted his clothes and baggage, for which he had written, but in every other respect his letters, which were unanswered, were also unnoticed.

The night after Arnold's escape, when his letter respecting Andre was received, the general directed one of his aides to wait on Mrs. Arnold, who was convulsed with grief, and inform her that he had done everything which depended on him to arrest her husband, but that, not having succeeded, it gave him pleasure to inform her that her husband was safe. It is honorable to the American character that, during the effervescence of the moment, Mrs. Arnold was permitted to go to Philadelphia to take possession of her effects, and to proceed to New York under the protection of a flag without receiving the slightest insult.

This treatment of Mrs. Arnold by Washington is the more remarkable for its delicacy when we recollect that she was under very strong suspicions at the time of being actively concerned in the treason of her husband. Historians are still divided on the question of her guilt or innocence.

The mingled sentiments of admiration and compassion excited in every bosom for the unfortunate Andre, seemed to increase the detestation in which Arnold was held. "Andre," said General Washington in a private letter, "has met his fate with that fortitude which was to be expected from an accomplished man and a gallant officer, but I am mistaken if at this time Arnold is undergoing the torments of a mental hell. He wants feeling. From some traits of his character which have lately come to my knowledge, he seems to have been so hardened in crime, so lost to all sense of honor and shame, that while his faculties still enable him to continue his sordid pursuits, there will be no time for remorse."

The traits in his character above alluded to, were disclosed in a private letter from Hamilton, who said: "This man (Arnold) is in every sense despicable. In addition to the scene of knavery and prostitution during his command in Philadelphia, which the late seizure of his papers has unfolded, the history of his command at West Point is a history of little as well as great villainies. He practiced every dirty act of peculation, and even stooped to connections with the sutlers to defraud the public." [6]

From motives of policy, or of respect for his engagements, Sir Henry Clinton conferred on Arnold the commission of a brigadier-general in the British service, which he preserved throughout the war. Yet it is impossible that rank could have rescued him from the contempt and detestation in which the generous, and honorable, and the brave could not cease to hold him. It was impossible for men of this description to bury the recollection of his being a traitor—a sordid traitor—first the slave of his rage, then purchased with gold, and finally secured at the expense of the blood of one of the most accomplished officers in the British army.

His representations of the discontent of the country and of the army, concurring with reports from other quarters, had excited the hope that the Loyalists and the dissatisfied, allured by British gold and the prospect of rank in the British service, would flock to his standard and form a corps at whose head he might again display his accustomed intrepidity. With this hope he published an address to the inhabitants of America in which he labored to palliate his own guilt, and to increase their dissatisfaction with the existing state of things.

This appeal to the public was followed by a proclamation addressed "To the officers and soldiers of the Continental army, who have the real interests of their country at heart, and who are determined to be no longer the tools and dupes of Congress or of France."

The object of this proclamation was to induce the officers and soldiers to desert the cause they had embraced from principle by holding up to them the very flattering offers of the British general, and contrasting the substantial emoluments of the British service with their present deplorable condition. He attempted to cover this dishonorable proposition with a decent garb, by representing the base step he invited them to take as the only measure which could restore peace, real liberty, and happiness to their country.

These inducements did not produce their intended effect. Although the temper of the army might be irritated by real suffering, and by the supposed neglect of government, no diminution of patriotism had been produced. Through all the hardships, irritations, and vicissitudes of the war Arnold remains the solitary instance of an American officer who abandoned the side first embraced in this civil contest, and turned his sword upon his former companions in arms.

In the whole course of this affair of Arnold's treason, Washington, according to the habitually religious turn of his mind, distinctly recognized the hand of Divine Providence. Writing to Col. John Laurens he says: "In no instance since the commencement of the war has the interposition of Providence appeared more remarkably conspicuous than in the rescue of the post and garrison of West Point from Arnold's villainous perfidy. How far he meant to involve me in the catastrophe of this place does not appear by any indubitable evidence, and I am rather inclined to think he did not wish to hazard the more important object of his treachery by attempting to combine two events, the less of which might have marred the greater. A combination of extraordinary circumstances, an unaccountable deprivation of presence of mind in a man of the first abilities, and the virtue of three militiamen, threw the adjutant-general of the British forces, with full proofs of Arnold's treachery, into our hands. But for the egregious folly, or the bewildered conception, of Lieutenant-Colonel Jameson, who seemed lost in astonishment and not to know what he was doing, I should undoubtedly have got Arnold."

Arnold, however, had not yet displayed the whole of his character. Savage revenge and ruthless cruelty were yet to become apparent in his conduct as an officer in the British service. It seems to have been the design of Providence that Americans, in all ages, should learn to detest treason by seeing it exhibited in all its hideous deformity, in the person of "ARNOLD, THE TRAITOR." [7]

1. Footnote: While Washington was in winter quarters at Morristown, he requested Congress to send a committee to the camp, as had been previously done at Valley Forge, for the purpose of giving effect to the arrangements for the ensuing campaign, and drawing more expeditiously from the States their respective quotas of soldiers and supplies. General Schuyler, who had retired from the army and was then in Congress, was a member of this committee. He rendered essential service at this time by his judgment and experience. The committee remained in camp between two and three months.

2. Footnote: It is pleasant to know that Mrs. Washington was at the head of this movement. Dr. Spencer says: "In all parts of the country the women displayed great zeal and activity, particularly in providing clothing for the soldiers. In Philadelphia they formed a society, at the head of which was Martha Washington, wife of the Commander-in-Chief. This lady was as prudent in private affairs as her husband was in public. She alone presided over their domestic finances, and provided for their common household. Thus it was owing to the talents and virtues of his wife, that Washington could give himself wholly to the dictates of that patriotism which this virtuous pair mutually shared and reciprocally invigorated. Mrs. Washington, Mrs. Reed, Mrs. Bache, the daughter of Dr. Franklin, with the other ladies who had formed the society, themselves subscribed considerable sums for the public; and having exhausted their own means, they exerted their influence, and went from house to house to stimulate the liberality of others."

3. Footnote: While these charges were hanging over his head, Arnold courted and married Miss Shippen, a young lady, not yet eighteen, the daughter of Mr. Edward Shippen, of Philadelphia.

4. Footnote: "Our service,"—such were his words,—"is the chastest of all. Even the shadow of a fault tarnishes the lustre of our finest achievements. The least inadvertence may rob us of the public favor, so hard to be acquired. I reprimand you for having forgotten, that in proportion as you had rendered yourself formidable to our enemies, you should have been guarded and temperate in your deportment toward your fellow-citizens.

"Exhibit anew those noble qualities which have placed you on the list of our most valued commanders. I will myself furnish you, as far as it may be in my power, with opportunities of gaining the esteem of your country."

5. Footnote: The names of these militiamen were John Paulding, David Williams, and Isaac Van Wart.

6. Footnote: "I am inclined to believe that Arnold was a finished scoundrel from early manhood to his grave; nor do I believe that he had any real and true-hearted attachment to the Whig cause. He fought as a mere adventurer, and took sides from a calculation of personal gain, and chances of plunder and advancement."—Sabine's "American Loyalists," p. 131.

7. Footnote: On the third of November it was resolved, "That Congress have a high sense of the virtuous and patriotic conduct of John Paulding, David Williams, and Isaac Van Wart; in testimony whereof, ordered, that each of them receive annually $200 in specie, or an equivalent in the current money of these States, during life, and that the Board of War be directed to procure for each of them a silver medal, on one side of which shall be a shield, with this inscription—FIDELITY: and on the other, the following motto—VINCIT AMOR PATIAE, and forward them to the Commander-in-Chief, who is requested to present the same, with a copy of this resolution, and the thanks of Congress for their fidelity, and the eminent service they have rendered their country."



CHAPTER XIX.

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH. 1780.

Although Washington was aware that the British were aiming at the conquest of the southern States he still considered the middle States to be the main theater of war, and felt the necessity of reserving his main force for the defense of that portion of the Union. He did not believe that the possession by the British of a few posts in the South would contribute much to the purposes of the war, and he sent no more troops to that part of the country than he could conveniently spare from the main army. Writing to Lafayette in Paris, after the fall of Savannah (8th March, 1779), he says: "Nothing of importance has happened since you left us except the enemy's invasion of Georgia and possession of its capital, which, though it may add something to their supplies on the score of provisions, will contribute very little to the brilliancy of their arms; for, like the defenseless Island of St. Lucia, [1] it only required the appearance of force to effect the conquest of it, as the whole militia of the State did not exceed 1,200 men, and many of them disaffected. General Lincoln is assembling a force to dispossess them, and my only fear is that he will precipitate the attempt before he is fully prepared for the execution."

As early as September 1778, General Lincoln had been appointed to supersede Gen. Robert Howe in the command of the southern army. Lincoln had baffled the attempts of General Prevost on South Carolina, and had commanded the American forces in the unsuccessful siege of Savannah, acting in concert with D'Estaing. He was still in command at Charleston when Clinton, whose departure from New York on an expedition to the South we have already noticed, made his descent on South Carolina. In this command at Charleston General Lincoln unfortunately labored under great disadvantages and discouragements.

The failure of the attack on Savannah (in which bombardment 1,000 lives were lost, Count Pulaski, the Polish patriot, was mortally wounded, and the simple-hearted Sergeant Jasper died grasping the banner presented to his regiment at Fort Moultrie), with the departure of the French fleet from the coast of America, presented a gloomy prospect and was the forerunner of many calamities to the southern States. By their courage and vigor the northern provinces had repelled the attacks of the enemy and discouraged future attempts against them. And although having bravely defended Sullivan's Island, in 1776, the southern colonists were latterly less successful than their victorious brethren in the North. The rapid conquest of Georgia and the easy march of Prevost to the very gates of Charleston had a discouraging effect and naturally rendered the southern section vulnerable to attack. In the North the military operations of 1778 and 1779 had produced no important results, and, therefore, the late transactions in Georgia and South Carolina more readily attracted the attention of the British Commander-in-Chief to those States.

Savannah, the chief town of Georgia, as we have already seen, was in the hands of the British troops, and had been successfully defended against a combined attack of the French and Americans, and therefore Sir Henry Clinton resolved to gain possession of Charleston also, the capital of South Carolina, which would give him the command of all the southern parts of the Union. Having made the necessary preparations he sailed, as we have seen, from New York on the 26th of December 1779, under convoy of Admiral Arbuthnot, but did not arrive at Savannah till the end of January (1780). The voyage was tempestuous; some of the transports and victuallers were lost, others shattered, and a few taken by the American cruisers. Most of the cavalry and draught horses perished. One of the transports, which had been separated from the fleet and captured by the Americans, was brought into Charleston on the 23d of January, and the prisoners gave the first certain notice of the destination of the expedition.

As soon as it was known that an armament was fitting out at New York many suspected that the southern States were to be assailed, and such was the unhappy posture of American affairs at that time, that no sanguine expectations of a successful resistance could be reasonably entertained. The magazines of the Union were everywhere almost empty, and Congress had neither money nor credit to replenish them. The army at Morristown, under the immediate orders of Washington, was threatened, as we have seen, with destruction by want of provisions, and consequently could neither act with vigor in the North, nor send reinforcements to the South.

General Lincoln, though aware of his danger,—was not in a condition to meet it. On raising the siege of Savannah he had sent the troops of Virginia to Augusta; those of South Carolina were stationed partly at Sheldoa, opposite Port Royal, between thirty and forty miles north from Savannah, and partly at Fort Moultrie, which had been allowed to fall into decay; those of North Carolina were with General Lincoln at Charleston. All these detachments formed but a feeble force, and to increase it was not easy, for the Colonial paper money was in a state of great depreciation; the militia, worn out by a harassing service, were reluctant again to repair to the standards of their country, and the brave defense of Savannah had inspired the people of the southern provinces with intimidating notions of British valor. The patriotism of many of the Colonists had evaporated; they contemplated nothing but the hardships and dangers of the contest and recoiled from the protracted struggle.

In these discouraging circumstances Congress recommended the people of South Carolina to arm their slaves, a measure to which they were generally averse; although, had they been willing to comply with the recommendation, arms could not have been procured. Washington had, as we have already seen, ordered the Continental troops of North Carolina and Virginia to march to Charleston, and four American frigates, two French ships of war; the one mounting twenty-six and the other eighteen guns, with the marine force of South Carolina under Commodore Whipple, were directed to cooperate in the defense of the town. No more aid could be expected; yet, under these unpromising circumstances, a full house of assembly resolved to defend Charleston to the last extremity.

Although Clinton had embarked at New York on the 26th of December, 1779, yet, as his voyage had been stormy and tedious, and as some time had been necessarily spent at Savannah, it was the 11th of February, 1780, before he landed on John's Island, thirty miles south from Charleston. Had he even then marched rapidly upon the town he would probably have entered it without much opposition, but mindful of his repulse in 1776 his progress was marked by a wary circumspection. He proceeded by the islands of St. John and St. James, while part of his fleet advanced to blockade the harbor. He sent for a reinforcement from New York, ordered General Prevost to join him with 1,100 men from Savannah, and neglected nothing that could insure success.

General Lincoln was indefatigable in improving the time which the slow progress of the royal army afforded him. Six hundred slaves were employed in constructing or repairing the fortifications of the town; vigorous though not very successful measures were taken to bring the militia into the field; and all the small detachments of regular troops were assembled in the capital. The works which had been begun on Charleston Neck when General Prevost threatened the place were resumed. A chain of redoubts, lines, and batteries was formed between the Cooper and Ashley rivers. In front of each flank the works were covered by swamps extending from the rivers; those opposite swamps were connected by a canal; between the canal and the works were two strong rows of abattis, and a ditch double picketed, with deep holes at short distances, to break the columns in case of an assault. Toward the water, works were thrown up at every place where a landing was practicable. The vessels intended to defend the bar of the harbor having been found insufficient for that purpose, their guns were taken out and planted on the ramparts, and the seamen were stationed at the batteries. One of the ships, which was not dismantled, was placed in the Cooper river to assist the batteries, and several vessels were sunk at the mouth of the channel to prevent the entrance of the royal fleet. Lincoln intended that the town should be defended until such reinforcements would arrive from the North as, together with the militia of the State, would compel Clinton to raise the siege. As the regular troops in the town did not exceed 1,400, a council of war found that the garrison was too weak to spare detachments to obstruct the progress of the royal army. Only a small party of cavalry and some light troops were ordered to hover on its left flank and observe its motions.

While these preparations for defense were going on in Charleston the British army was cautiously but steadily advancing toward the town. As he proceeded Clinton erected forts and formed magazines at proper stations, and was careful to secure his communications with those forts and with the sea. All the horses of the British army had perished in the tedious and stormy voyage from New York to Savannah, but on landing in South Carolina Clinton procured others to mount his dragoons, whom he formed into a light corps, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Tarleton. That officer was extremely active in covering the left wing of the army and in dispersing the militia. In one of his excursions he fell in with Lieut.-Col. William Washington, who commanded the remnant of Baylor's regiment, and who beat him back with loss.

On the 20th of March (1780) the British fleet, under Admiral Arbuthnot, consisting of 1 ship of 50 guns, 2 of 44 each, 4 of 32 each, and an armed vessel, passed the bar in front of Rebellion Road, and anchored in Five Fathom Hole.

It being now thought impossible to prevent the fleet from passing Fort Moultrie, and taking such stations in Cooper river as would enable them to rake the batteries on shore, and to close that communication between the town and country, the plan of defense was once more changed, and the armed vessels were carried into the mouth of Cooper river, and sunk in a line from the town to Shute's Folly.

This was the critical moment for evacuating the town. The loss of the harbor rendered the defense of the place, if not desperate, so improbable, that the hope to maintain it could not have been rationally entertained by a person who was not deceived by the expectation of aids much more considerable than were actually received.

When this state of things was communicated to Washington by Lieutenant-Colonel Laurens he said in reply: "The impracticability of defending the bar, I fear, amounts to the loss of the town and garrison. At this distance it is impossible to judge for you. I have the greatest confidence in General Lincoln's prudence, but it really appears to me that the propriety of attempting to defend the town depended on the probability of defending the bar, and that when this ceased, the attempt ought to have been relinquished. In this, however, I suspend a definitive judgment, and wish you to consider what I say as confidential." Unfortunately this letter did not arrive in time to influence the conduct of the besieged.

On the 4th of April (1780), Admiral Arbuthnot, taking advantage of a strong southerly wind and a flowing tide, passed Fort Moultrie [2] and anchored just without reach of the guns of Charleston. The fort kept up a heavy fire on the fleet while passing which did some damage to the ships and killed or wounded twenty-seven men.

On the 29th of March the royal army reached Ashley river and crossed it ten miles above the town without opposition, the garrison being too weak to dispute the passage. Sir Henry Clinton having brought over his artillery, baggage, and stores marched down Charleston Neck, and on the night of the 1st of April, broke ground at the distance of 800 yards from the American works. The fortifications of Charleston were constructed under the direction of Mr. Laumoy, a French engineer of reputation in the American service, and, although not calculated to resist a regular siege, were by no means contemptible; and Clinton made his approaches in due form. Meanwhile the garrison received a reinforcement of 700 Continentals under General Woodford, and, after this accession of strength, amounted to somewhat more than 2,000 regular troops, besides 1,000 militia of North Carolina, and the citizens of Charleston.

On the 9th of April (1780) Clinton finished his first parallel, forming an oblique line between the two rivers, from 600 to 1,100 yards from the American works, and mounted his guns in battery. He then, jointly with the admiral, summoned Lincoln to surrender the town. Lincoln's answer was modest and firm: "Sixty days," said he, "have passed since it has been known that your intentions against this town were hostile, in which time was afforded to abandon it, but duty and inclination point to the propriety of supporting it to the last extremity."

On receiving this answer Clinton immediately opened his batteries, and his fire was soon felt to be superior to that of the besieged. Hitherto the communication with the country north of the Cooper was open and a post was established to prevent the investiture of the town on that side. After the summons, Governor Rutledge, with half of his council, left the town for the purpose of exercising the functions of the executive government in the State, and in the hope of being able to bring a large body of the militia to act on the rear or left flank of the besieging army, but the militia were as little inclined to embody themselves as to enter the town.

For the purpose of maintaining the communication with the country north of the Cooper, of checking the British foragers, and of protecting supplies on their way to the town, the American cavalry, under General Huger, had passed the river and taken post at Monk's Corner, thirty miles above Charleston. Posts of militia were established between the Cooper and Santee and at a ferry on the last-named river, where boats were ordered to be collected in order to facilitate the passage of the garrison, if it should be found necessary to evacuate the town. But Clinton defeated all these precautions. For as the possession of the harbor rendered the occupation of the forts to the southward unnecessary, he resolved to call in the troops which had been employed in that quarter, to close the communication of the garrison with the country to the northward, and to complete the investiture of the town. For these purposes, as the fleet was unable to enter the Cooper river, he deemed it necessary to dislodge the American posts and employed Tarleton to beat up the quarters of General Huger's cavalry at Monk's Corner. Conducted during the night by a negro slave through unfrequented paths, Tarleton proceeded toward the American post, and, although General Huger had taken the precaution of placing sentinels a mile in front of his station and of keeping his horses saddled and bridled, yet Tarleton advanced so rapidly that, notwithstanding the alarm was given by the outposts, he began the attack before the Americans could put themselves in a posture of defense, killed or took about thirty of them, and dispersed the rest. General Huger, Colonel Washington, and many others made good their retreat through the woods. Such as escaped concealed themselves for several days in the swamps. The horses taken by the British fell very seasonably into their hands, as they were not well mounted. After this decisive blow it was some time before any armed party of the Americans ventured to show themselves south of the Santee. That part of the country was laid open to the British, who established posts in such a way as completely to enclose the garrison. The arrival of 3,000 men from New York greatly increased the strength of the besiegers.

The second parallel was completed, and it daily became more apparent that the garrison must ultimately submit. An evacuation of the town was proposed and Lincoln seems to have been favorable to the measure, but the garrison could scarcely have escaped, and the principal inhabitants entreated the general not to abandon them to the fury of the enemy.

The British troops on the north of the Cooper were increased, and Cornwallis was appointed to command in that quarter. On the 20th April (1780) General Lincoln again called a council of war to deliberate on the measures to be adopted. The council recommended a capitulation; terms were offered, but rejected, and hostilities recommenced. After the besiegers had begun their third parallel, Colonel Henderson made a vigorous sally on their right, which was attended with some success; but, owing to the weakness of the garrison, this was the only attempt of the kind during the siege.

After the fleet passed it, Fort Moultrie became of much less importance than before, and part of the garrison was removed to Charleston. The admiral, perceiving the unfinished state of the works on the west side, prepared to storm it. On the 7th of May, everything being ready for the assault, he summoned the garrison, consisting of 200 men, who, being convinced of their inability to defend the place, surrendered themselves prisoners of war without firing a gun. On the same day the cavalry which had escaped from Monk's Corner, and which had reassembled under the command of Colonel White, were again surprised and defeated by Colonel Tarleton. After Cornwallis had passed the Cooper and made himself master of the peninsula between that river and the Santee, he occasionally sent out small foraging parties. Apprised of that circumstance, Colonel White repassed the Santee, fell in with and took one of those parties, and dispatched an express to Colonel Buford, who commanded a regiment of new levies from Virginia, requesting him to cover his retreat across the Santee at Lanneau's ferry, where he had ordered some boats to be collected to carry his party over the river. Colonel White reached the ferry before Buford's arrival, and, thinking himself in no immediate danger, halted to refresh his party. Cornwallis, having received notice of his incursion, dispatched Tarleton in pursuit, who, overtaking him a few minutes after he had halted, instantly charged him, killed or took about thirty of the party, and dispersed the rest.

Charleston was now completely invested, all hopes of assistance had been cruelly disappointed, and the garrison and inhabitants were left to their own resources. The troops were exhausted by incessant duty and insufficient to man the lines. Many of the guns were dismounted, the shot nearly expended, and the bread and meat almost entirely consumed. The works of the besiegers were pushed very near the defenses of the town, and the issue of an assault was extremely hazardous to the garrison and inhabitants. In these critical circumstances, General Lincoln summoned a council of war, which recommended a capitulation. Terms were accordingly proposed, offering to surrender the town and garrison on condition that the militia and armed citizens should not be prisoners of war, but should be allowed to return home without molestation. These terms were refused, hostilities were recommenced, and preparations for an assault were in progress. The citizens, who had formerly remonstrated against the departure of the garrison, now became clamorous for a surrender. In this hopeless state Lincoln offered to give up the place on the terms which Clinton had formerly proposed. The offer was accepted and the capitulation was signed on the 12th of May (1780).

The town and fortifications, the shipping, artillery, and all public stores were to be given up as they then were; the garrison, consisting of the Continental troops, militia, sailors, and citizens who had borne arms during the siege, were to be prisoners of war; the garrison were to march out of the town and lay down their arms in front of the works, but their drums were not to beat a British march, and their colors were not to be uncased; the Continental troops and sailors were to be conducted to some place afterward to be agreed on, where they were to be well supplied with wholesome provisions until exchanged; the militia were to be allowed to go home on parole; the officers were to retain their arms, baggage, and servants, and they might sell their horses, but were not permitted to take them out of Charleston; neither the persons nor property of the militia or citizens were to be molested so long as they kept their parole. [3]

On these terms the garrison of Charleston marched out and laid down their arms, and General Leslie was appointed by Clinton to take possession of the town. The siege was more obstinate than bloody. The besiegers had 76 men killed and 189 wounded; the besieged had 92 killed and 148 wounded; about 20 of the inhabitants were killed in their houses by random shots. The number of prisoners reported by Clinton amounted to upward of 5,000, exclusive of sailors, but in that return all the freemen of the town capable of bearing arms, as well as the Continental soldiers and militia, were included. The number of Continental troops in the town amounted only to 1,777, about 500 of whom were in the hospital. The effective strength of the garrison was between 2,000 and 3,000 men. The besieging army consisted of about 9,000 of the best of the British troops.

After the British got possession of the town the arms taken from the Americans, amounting to 5,000 stand, were lodged in a laboratory near a large quantity of cartridges and loose powder. By incautiously snapping the muskets and pistols the powder ignited and blew up the house, and the burning fragments, which were scattered in all directions, set fire to the workhouse, jail, and old barracks, and consumed them. The British guard stationed at the place, consisting of fifty men, was destroyed, and about as many other persons lost their lives on the disastrous occasion.

Clinton carried on the siege in a cautious but steady and skilful manner. Lincoln was loaded with undeserved blame by many of his countrymen, for he conducted the defense as became a brave and intelligent officer. The error lay in attempting to defend the town, but, in the circumstances in which Lincoln was placed, he was almost unavoidably drawn into that course. It was the desire of the State that the capital should be defended, and Congress, as well as North and South Carolina, had encouraged him to expect that his army would be increased to 9,000 men—a force which might have successfully resisted all the efforts of the royal army. But neither Congress nor the Carolinas were able to fulfill the promises which they had made, for the militia were extremely backward in taking the field, and the expected number of Continentals could not be furnished. Lincoln, therefore, was left to defend the place with only about one-third of the force which he had been encouraged to expect. At any time before the middle of April he might have evacuated the town, but the civil authority then opposed his retreat, which soon afterward became difficult, and ultimately impracticable.

At General Lincoln's request Congress passed a resolve directing the Commander-in-Chief to cause an inquiry to be made concerning the loss of Charleston and the conduct of General Lincoln while commanding in the southern department. Washington, who knew Lincoln's merit well, determined to give Congress time for reflection before adopting any measure which had the least appearance of censure. The following extract from his letter to the President of Congress (10th July, 1780) points out clearly the impropriety of the hasty proceedings which had been proposed in regard to this able and deserving officer:

"At this time," Washington writes, "I do not think that the circumstances of the campaign would admit, at any rate, an inquiry to be gone into respecting the loss of Charleston, but, if it were otherwise, I do not see that it could be made so as to be completely satisfactory either to General Lincoln or to the public, unless some gentlemen could be present who have been acting in that quarter. This, it seems, would be necessary on the occasion, and the more so as I have not a single document or paper in my possession concerning the department, and a copy of the instructions and orders which they may have been pleased to give General Lincoln from time to time and of their correspondence. And besides the reasons against the inquiry at this time, General Lincoln being a prisoner of war, his situation, it appears to me, must preclude one till he is exchanged, supposing every other obstacle were out of the question. If Congress think proper, they will be pleased to transmit to me such papers as they may have which concern the matters of inquiry, that there may be no delay in proceeding in the business when other circumstances will permit."

The fall of Charleston was matter of much exultation to the British and spread a deep gloom over the aspect of American affairs. The southern army was lost, and, although small, it could not soon be replaced. In the southern parts of the Union there had always been a considerable number of persons friendly to the claims of Britain. The success of her arms roused all their lurking partialities, gave decision to the conduct of the wavering, encouraged the timid, drew over to the British cause all those who are ever ready to take part with the strongest, and discouraged and intimidated the friends of Congress.

Clinton was perfectly aware of the important advantage which he had gained, and resolved to keep up and deepen the impression on the public mind by the rapidity of his movements and the appearance of his troops in different parts of the country. For that purpose he sent a strong detachment under Cornwallis over the Santee toward the frontier of North Carolina. He dispatched an inferior force into the center of the province, and sent a third up the Savannah to Augusta. These detachments were instructed to disperse any small parties that still remained in arms, and to show the people that the British troops were complete masters of South Carolina and Georgia.

Soon after passing the Santee, Cornwallis was informed that Colonel Buford was lying, with 400 men, in perfect security, near the border of North Carolina. He immediately dispatched Colonel Tarleton, with his cavalry, named the Legion, to surprise that party. After performing a march of 104 miles in fifty-four hours, Tarleton, at the head of 700 men, overtook Buford on his march, at the Waxhaws, and ordered him to surrender, offering him the same terms which had been granted to the garrison of Charleston. On Buford's refusal, Tarleton instantly charged the party, who were dispirited and unprepared for such an onset. Most of them threw down their arms and made no resistance, but a few continued firing, and an indiscriminate slaughter ensued of those who had submitted as well as of those who had resisted. Many begged for quarter, but no quarter was given. Tarleton's quarter became proverbial throughout the Union and certainly rendered some subsequent conflicts more fierce and bloody than they would otherwise have been. Buford and a few horsemen forced their way through the enemy and escaped; some of the infantry, also, who were somewhat in advance, saved themselves by flight, but the regiment was almost annihilated. Tarleton stated that 113 were killed on the spot, 150 left on parole, so badly wounded that they could not be removed, and 53 brought away as prisoners. So feeble was the resistance made by the Americans that the British had only 12 men killed and 5 wounded. The slaughter on this occasion excited much indignation in America. The British endeavored to justify their conduct by asserting that the Americans resumed their arms after having pretended to submit, but such of the American officers as escaped from the carnage denied the allegation. For this exploit, Tarleton was highly praised by Cornwallis.

After the defeat of Buford there were no parties in South Carolina or Georgia capable of resisting the royal detachments. The force of Congress in those provinces seemed annihilated and the spirit of opposition among the inhabitants was greatly subdued. Many, thinking it vain to contend against a power which they were unable to withstand, took the oath of allegiance to the King or gave their parole not to bear arms against him.

In order to secure the entire submission of that part of the country, military detachments were stationed at the most commanding points, and measures were pursued for settling the civil administration and for consolidating the conquest of the provinces. So fully was Clinton convinced of the subjugation of the country and of the sincere submission of the inhabitants, or of their inability to resist, that, on the 3d of June (1780), he issued a proclamation, in which, after stating that all persons should take an active part in settling and securing his majesty's government and in delivering the country from that anarchy which for some time had prevailed, he discharged from their parole the militia who were prisoners, except those only who had been taken in Charleston and Fort Moultrie, and restored them to all the rights and duties of inhabitants; he also declared that such as should neglect to return to their allegiance should be treated as enemies and rebels.

This proclamation was unjust and impolitic. Proceeding on the supposition that the people of those provinces were subdued rebels, restored by an act of clemency to the privileges and duties of citizens, and forgetting that for upward of four years they had been exercising an independent authority, and that the issue of the war only could stamp on them the character of patriots or rebels. It might easily have been foreseen that the proclamation was to awaken the resentment and alienate the affections of those to whom it was addressed. Many of the Colonists had submitted in the fond hope of being released, under the shelter of the British government, from that harassing service to which they had lately been exposed, and of being allowed to attend to their own affairs in a state of peaceful tranquility; but the proclamation dissipated this delusion and opened their eyes to their real situation. Neutrality and peace were what they desired, but neutrality and peace were denied them. If they did not range themselves under the standards of Congress, they must, as British subjects, appear as militia in the royal service. The people sighed for peace, but, on finding that they must fight on one side or the other, they preferred the banners of their country and thought they had as good a right to violate the allegiance and parole which Clinton had imposed on them as he had to change their state from that of prisoners to that of British subjects without their consent. They imagined that the proclamation released them from all antecedent obligations. Not a few, without any pretense of reasoning on the subject, deliberately resolved to act a deceitful part and to make professions of submission and allegiance to the British government so long as they found it convenient, but with the resolution of joining the standards of their country on the first opportunity. Such duplicity and falsehood ought always to be reprobated, but the unsparing rapacity with which the inhabitants were plundered made many of them imagine that no means of deception and vengeance were unjustifiable.

Hitherto the French fleets and troops had not afforded much direct assistance to the Americans, but they had impeded and embarrassed the operations of the British Commander-in-Chief. He had intended to sail against Charleston so early as the month of September, 1779, but the unexpected appearance of Count D'Estaing on the southern coast had detained him at New York till the latter part of December. It was his intention, after the reduction of Charleston, vigorously to employ the whole of his force in the subjugation of the adjacent provinces, but information, received about the time of the surrender of the town, that Monsieur de Ternay, with a fleet and troops from France, was expected on the American coast, deranged his plan and induced him to return to New York with the greater part of his army, leaving Cornwallis at the head of 4,000 men to prosecute the southern conquests. Clinton sailed from Charleston on the 5th of June.

After the reduction of Charleston and the entire defeat of all the American detachments in those parts, an unusual calm ensued for six weeks. Imagining that South Carolina and Georgia were reannexed to the British empire in sentiment as well as in appearance, Cornwallis now meditated an attack on North Carolina. Impatient, however, as he was of repose, he could not carry his purpose into immediate execution. The great heat, the want of magazines, and the impossibility of subsisting his army in the field before harvest, compelled him to pause. But the interval was not lost. He distributed his troops in such a manner in South Carolina and the upper parts of Georgia as seemed most favorable to the enlistment of young men who could be prevailed on to join the royal standard; he ordered companies of royal militia to be formed; and he maintained a correspondence with such of the inhabitants of North Carolina as were friendly to the British cause. He informed them of the necessity he was under of postponing the expedition into their country, and advised them to attend to their harvest and to remain quiet till the royal army advanced to support them. Eager, however, to manifest their zeal and entertaining sanguine hopes of success, certain Tories disregarded his salutary advice and broke out into premature insurrections, which were vigorously resisted and generally suppressed by the patriots, who were the more numerous and determined party. But one band of Tories, amounting to 800 men, under a Colonel Bryan, marched down the Yadkin to a British post at the Cheraws and afterward reached Camden.

The people of North Carolina were likely to prove much more intractable than those of South Carolina and Georgia. They were chiefly descendants of Scotch-Irish settlers—stern Presbyterians and ardent lovers of liberty. When Tryon was their governor, they had resisted his tyranny under the name of Regulators, and at Mecklenburg had published a declaration of independence more than a year before Congress took the same attitude of defiance. Such were the North Carolinians; and their State was destined to be the scene of many battles in which the power of Britain was bravely resisted.

Having made the necessary dispositions Cornwallis entrusted the command on the frontier to Lord Rawdon and returned to Charleston in order to organize the civil government of the province and to establish such regulations as circumstances required. But Cornwallis showed himself more a soldier than a politician, and more a tyrant than either. Instead of endeavoring to regain, by kindness and conciliation, the good will of a people whose affections were alienated from the cause in which he was engaged, Cornwallis attempted to drive them into allegiance by harshness and severity. Indeed, many of the British officers viewed the Americans merely in the light of rebels and traitors, whose lives it was indulgence to spare; treated them not only with injustice, but with insolence and insult more intolerable than injustice itself; and exercised a rigor which greatly increases the miseries without promoting the legitimate purposes of war.

By the capitulation of Charleston, the citizens were prisoners on parole, but successive proclamations were published, each abridging the privileges of prisoners more than that which had gone before. A board of police was established for the administration of justice, and before that board British subjects were allowed to sue for debts, but prisoners were denied that privilege; they were liable to prosecution for debts, but had no security for what was owing them, except the honor of their debtors, and that, in many instances, was found a feeble guarantee. If they complained they were threatened with close confinement; numbers were imprisoned in the town and others consigned to dungeons at a distance from their families. In short, every method, except that of kindness and conciliation, was resorted to in order to compel the people to become British subjects. A few, who had always been well affected to the royal cause, cheerfully returned to their allegiance, and many followed the same course from convenience. To abandon their families and estates and encounter all the privations of fugitives required a degree of patriotism and fortitude which few possessed.

In that melancholy posture of American affairs, many of the ladies of Charleston displayed a remarkable degree of zeal and intrepidity in the cause of their country. They gloried in the appellation of rebel ladies, and declined invitations to public entertainments given by the British officers, but crowded to prison ships and other places of confinement to solace their suffering countrymen. While they kept back from the concerts and assemblies of the victors they were forward in showing sympathy and kindness toward American officers whenever they met them. They exhorted their brothers, husbands, and sons to an unshrinking endurance in behalf of their country, and cheerfully became the inmates of their prison and the companions of their exile—voluntarily renouncing affluence and ease and encountering labor, penury, and privation.

For some time the rigorous measures of the British officers in South Carolina seemed successful and a deathlike stillness prevailed in the province. The clangor of arms ceased and no enemy to British authority appeared. The people of the lower parts of South Carolina were generally attached to the revolution, but many of their most active leaders were prisoners. The fall of Charleston and the subsequent events had sunk many into despondency, and all were overawed. This gloomy stillness continued about six weeks when the symptoms of a gathering storm began to show themselves. The oppression and insults to which the people were exposed highly exasperated them; they repented the apathy with which they had seen the siege of Charleston carried on, and felt that the fall of their capital, instead of introducing safety and rural tranquility, as they had fondly anticipated, was only the forerunner of insolent exactions and oppressive services. Peaceful and undisturbed neutrality was what they desired and what they had expected; but when they found themselves compelled to fight, they chose to join the Provincial banners, and the most daring only waited an opportunity to show their hostility to their new masters.