FOREIGN OFFICERS CANDIDATES FOR SITUATIONS IN THE ARMY—DIFFICULTIES IN
ADJUSTING QUESTIONS OF RANK—DUCOUDRAY—CONWAY—KOSCIUSZKO—WASHINGTON’S
GUARDS—ARNOLD OMITTED IN THE ARMY PROMOTIONS—WASHINGTON TAKES HIS
PART—BRITISH EXPEDITION AGAINST DANBURY—DESTRUCTION OF AMERICAN
STORES—CONNECTICUT YEOMANRY IN ARMS—SKIRMISH AT RIDGEFIELD—DEATH OF
GENERAL WOOSTER—GALLANT SERVICES OF ARNOLD—REWARDED BY
CONGRESS—EXPLOIT OF COLONEL MEIGS AT SAG HARBOR.
The fame of the American struggle for independence was bringing foreign
officers as candidates for admission into the patriot army, and causing
great embarrassment to the commander-in-chief. “They seldom,” writes
Washington, “bring more than a commission and a passport; which we know
may belong to a bad as well as a good officer. Their ignorance of our
language, and their inability to recruit men, are insurmountable
obstacles to their being engrafted in our Continental battalions; for
our officers, who have raised their men, and have served through the war
upon pay that has not hitherto borne their expenses, would be disgusted
if foreigners were put over their head; and I assure you, few or none of
these gentlemen look lower than field-officers’ commissions. * * * Some
general mode of disposing of them must be adopted, for it is ungenerous
to keep them in suspense, and a great charge to themselves; but I am at
a loss to know how to point out this mode.”
Congress determined that no foreign officers should receive commissions
who were not well acquainted with the English language, and did not
bring strong testimonials of their abilities. Still there was
embarrassment. Some came with brevet commissions from the French
government, and had been assured by Mr. Deane, American commissioner at
Paris, that they would have the same rank in the American army. This
would put them above American officers of merit and hard service, whose
commissions were of more recent date. One Monsieur Ducoudray, on the
strength of an agreement with Mr. Deane, expected to have the rank of
major-general, and to be put at the head of the artillery. Washington
deprecated the idea of intrusting a department on which the very
salvation of the army might depend, to a foreigner, who had no other tie
to bind him to the interests of the country than honor; besides, he
observed, it would endanger the loss to the service of General Knox, “a
man of great military reading, sound judgment, and clear perceptions. He
has conducted the affairs of that department with honor to himself and
advantage to the public, and will resign if any one is put over him.”
In fact, the report that Ducoudray was to be a major-general, with a
commission dated in the preceding year, caused a commotion among the
American officers of that rank, but whose commissions were of later
date. Congress eventually determined not to ratify the contract entered
into between Mr. Deane and Monsieur Ducoudray, and resolved that the
commissions of foreign officers received into the service, should bear
date on the day of their being filled up by Washington.
Among the foreign candidates for appointments was one Colonel Conway, a
native of Ireland, but who, according to his own account, had been
thirty years in the service of France, and claimed to be a chevalier of
the order of St. Louis, of which he wore the decoration. Mr. Deane had
recommended him to Washington as an officer of merit, and had written to
Congress that he considered him well qualified for the office of
adjutant or brigadier-general, and that he had given him reason to hope
for one or the other of these appointments. Colonel Conway pushed for
that of brigadier-general. It had been conferred some time before by
Congress on two French officers, De Fermois and Deborre, who, he had
observed, had been inferior to him in the French service, and it would
be mortifying now to hold rank below them.
“I cannot pretend,” writes Washington to the president, “to speak of
Colonel Conway’s merits or abilities of my own knowledge. He appears to
be a man of candor, and, if he has been in service as long as he says, I
should suppose him infinitely better qualified to serve us than many who
have been promoted; as he speaks our language.”
Conway accordingly received the rank of brigadier-general, of which he
subsequently proved himself unworthy. He was boastful and presumptuous,
and became noted for his intrigues, and for a despicable cabal against
the commander-in-chief, which went by his name, and of which we shall
have to speak hereafter.
A candidate of a different stamp had presented himself in the preceding
year, the gallant, generous-spirited, Thaddeus Kosciuszko. He was a
Pole, of an ancient and noble family of Lithuania, and had been educated
for the profession of arms at the military school at Warsaw, and
subsequently in France. Disappointed in a love affair with a beautiful
lady of rank with whom he had attempted to elope, he had emigrated to
this country, and came provided with a letter of introduction from Dr.
Franklin to Washington.
“What do you seek here?” inquired the commander-in-chief.
“To fight for American independence.”
“What can you do?”
“Try me.”
Washington was pleased with the curt, yet comprehensive reply, and with
his chivalrous air and spirit, and at once received him into his family
as an aide-de-camp.[19] Congress shortly afterwards appointed him an
engineer, with the rank of colonel. He proved a valuable officer
throughout the Revolution, and won an honorable and lasting name in our
country.
Among the regiments which had been formed in the spring, one had been
named by its officers “The Congress’s Own,” and another “General
Washington’s Life Guards.” A resolve of Congress promptly appeared,
pronouncing those appellations improper, and ordering that they should
be discontinued. Washington’s own modesty had already administered a
corrective. In a letter to the President of Congress, he declared that
the regiments had been so named without his consent or privity. “As soon
as I heard of it,” writes he, “I wrote to several of the officers in
terms of severe reprehension, and expressly charged them to suppress the
distinction, adding that all the battalions were on the same footing,
and all under the general name of Continental.” No man was less desirous
for all individual distinctions of the kind.
Somewhat later he really formed a company for his guard. Colonel
Alexander Spotswood had the selection of the men, four from each
regiment; and was charged to be extremely cautious, “because,” writes
Washington, “it is more than probable that, in the course of the
campaign, my baggage, papers, and other matters of great public import,
may be committed to the sole care of these men.” That the company might
look well, and be nearly of a size, none were to be over five feet ten,
nor under five feet nine inches in stature, and to be sober, young,
active, and well-made, of good character, and proud of appearing clean
and soldierlike. As there would be a greater chance for fidelity among
such as had family connections in the country, Spotswood was charged to
send none but natives, and, if possible, men of some property. “I must
insist,” concludes Washington, “that, in making this choice, you give no
intimation of my preference of natives, as I do not want to create any
invidious distinction between them and the officers.”[20]
Questions of rank among his generals, were, as we have repeatedly shown,
perpetual sources of perplexity to Washington, and too often caused by
what the sarcastic Lee termed “the stumblings of Congress;” such was the
case at present. In recent army promotions, Congress had advanced
Stirling, Mifflin, St. Clair, Stephen, and Lincoln, to the rank of
major-general, while Arnold, their senior in service, and distinguished
by so many brilliant exploits, was passed over and left to remain a
brigadier.
Washington was surprised at not seeing his name on the list, but
supposing it might have been omitted through mistake, he wrote to
Arnold, who was at Providence in Rhode Island, advising him not to take
any hasty step in consequence, but to allow time for recollection,
promising his own endeavors to remedy any error that might have been
made. He wrote also to Henry Lee in Congress, inquiring whether the
omission was owing to accident or design. “Surely,” said he, “a more
active, a more spirited, and sensible officer, fills no department of
your army. Not seeing him, then, in the list of major-generals, and no
mention made of him, has given me uneasiness; as it is not presumed,
being the oldest brigadier, that he will continue in service under such
a slight.”
Arnold was, in truth, deeply wounded by the omission. “I am greatly
obliged to your Excellency,” writes he to Washington, “for interesting
yourself so much in respect to my appointment, which I have had no
advice of, and know not by what means it was announced in the papers.
Congress undoubtedly have a right of promoting those whom, from their
abilities, and their long and arduous services, they esteem most
deserving. Their promoting junior officers to the rank of
major-generals, I view as a very civil way of requesting my resignation,
as unqualified for the office I hold. My commission was conferred
unsolicited, and received with pleasure only as a means of serving my
country. With equal pleasure I resign it, when I can no longer serve my
country with honor. The person who, void of the nice feelings of honor,
will tamely condescend to give up his right, and retain a commission at
the expense of his reputation, I hold as a disgrace to the army, and
unworthy of the glorious cause in which we are engaged. * * * * In
justice, therefore, to my own character, and for the satisfaction of my
friends, I must request a court of inquiry into my conduct; and though I
sensibly feel the ingratitude of my countrymen, yet every personal
injury shall be buried in my zeal for the safety and happiness of my
country, in whose cause I have repeatedly fought and bled, and am ready
at all times to risk my life.”
He subsequently intimated that he should avoid any hasty step, and
should remain at his post until he could leave it without any damage to
the public interest.
The principle upon which Congress had proceeded in their recent
promotions was explained to Washington. The number of general officers
promoted from each State was proportioned to the number of men furnished
by it. Connecticut (Arnold’s State) had already two major-generals,
which was its full share. “I confess,” writes Washington to Arnold,
“this is a strange mode of reasoning; but it may serve to show you that
the promotion, which was due to your seniority, was not overlooked for
want of merit in you.”
“The point,” observes he, “is of so delicate a nature, that I will not
even undertake to advise. Your own feelings must be your guide. As no
particular charge is alleged against you, I do not see upon what grounds
you can demand a court of inquiry. Your determination not to quit your
present command, while any danger to the public might ensue from your
leaving it, deserves my thanks, and justly entitles you to the thanks of
the country.”
An opportunity occurred before long, for Arnold again to signalize
himself.
The amount of stores destroyed at Peekskill had fallen far short of
General Howe’s expectations. Something more must be done to cripple the
Americans before the opening of the campaign. Accordingly, another
expedition was set on foot against a still larger deposit at Danbury,
within the borders of Connecticut, and between twenty and thirty miles
from Peekskill.
Ex-governor Tryon, recently commissioned major-general of provincials,
conducted it, accompanied by Brigadier-general Agnew and Sir William
Erskine. He had a mongrel force two thousand strong; American, Irish,
and British refugees from various parts of the continent, and made his
appearance on the Sound in the latter part of April, with a fleet of
twenty-six sail, greatly to the disquiet of every assailable place along
the coast. On the 25th, towards evening, he landed his troops on the
beach at the foot of Canepo Hill, near the mouth of the Saugatuck River.
The yeomanry of the neighbourhood had assembled to resist them, but a
few cannon shots made them give way, and the troops set off for Danbury,
about twenty-three miles distant; galled at first by a scattering fire
from behind a stone fence. They were in a patriotic neighborhood.
General Silliman, of the Connecticut militia, who resided at Fairfield,
a few miles distant, sent out expresses to rouse the country. It so
happened that General Arnold was at New Haven, between twenty and thirty
miles off, on his way to Philadelphia for the purpose of settling his
accounts. At the alarm of a British inroad, he forgot his injuries and
irritation, mounted his horse, and, accompanied by General Wooster,
hastened to join General Silliman. As they spurred forward, every farm
house sent out its warrior, until upwards of a hundred were pressing on
with them, full of the fighting spirit. Lieutenant Oswald, Arnold’s
secretary in the Canada campaign, who had led the forlorn hope in the
attempt upon Quebec, was at this time at New Haven, enlisting men for
Lamb’s regiment of artillery. He, too, heard the note of alarm, and
mustering his recruits, marched off with three field-pieces for the
scene of action.[21]
In the mean while the British, marching all night with short haltings,
reached Danbury about two o’clock in the afternoon of the 26th. There
were but fifty Continental soldiers and one hundred militia in the
place. These retreated, as did most of the inhabitants, excepting such
as remained to take care of the sick and aged. Four men, intoxicated, as
it was said, fired upon the troops from the windows of a large house.
The soldiers rushed in, drove them into the cellar, set fire to the
house, and left them to perish in the flames.
There was a great quantity of stores of all kinds in the village, and no
vehicles to convey them to the ships. The work of destruction commenced.
The soldiers made free with the liquors found in abundance; and
throughout the greater part of the night there was revel, drunkenness,
blasphemy, and devastation. Tryon, full of anxiety, and aware that the
country was rising, ordered a retreat before daylight, setting fire to
the magazines to complete the destruction of the stores. The flames
spread to the other edifices, and almost the whole village was soon in a
blaze. The extreme darkness of a rainy night made the conflagration more
balefully apparent throughout the country.
While these scenes had been transacted at Danbury, the Connecticut
yeomanry had been gathering. Fairfield and the adjacent counties had
poured out their minute men. General Silliman had advanced at the head
of five hundred. Generals Wooster and Arnold joined him with their
chance followers, as did a few more militia. A heavy rain retarded their
march; it was near midnight when they reached Bethel, within four miles
of Danbury. Here they halted, to take a little repose and put their arms
in order, rendered almost unserviceable by the rain. They were now about
six hundred strong. Wooster took the command, as first major-general of
the militia of the State. Though in the sixty-eighth year of his age, he
was full of ardor, with almost youthful fire and daring. A plan was
concerted to punish the enemy on their retreat; and the lurid light of
Danbury in flames redoubled the provocation. At dawn of day, Wooster
detached Arnold with four hundred men, to push across the country and
take post at Ridgefield, by which the British must pass; while he with
two hundred remained, to hang on and harass them in flank and rear.
The British began their retreat early in the morning, conducting it in
regular style, with flanking parties, and a rear-guard well furnished
with artillery. As soon as they had passed his position, Wooster
attacked the rear-guard with great spirit and effect; there was sharp
skirmishing until within two miles of Ridgefield, when, as the veteran
was cheering on his men, who began to waver, a musket ball brought him
down from his horse, and finished his gallant career. On his fall his
men retreated in disorder.
The delay which his attack had occasioned to the enemy, had given Arnold
time to throw up a kind of breastwork or barricade across the road at
the north end of Ridgefield, protected by a house on the right, and a
high rocky bank on the left, where he took his stand with his little
force now increased to about five hundred men. About eleven o’clock the
enemy advanced in column, with artillery and flanking parties. They were
kept at bay for a time, and received several volleys from the barricade,
until it was outflanked and carried. Arnold ordered a retreat, and was
bringing off the rear-guard, when his horse was shot under him, and came
down upon his knees. Arnold remained seated in the saddle, with one foot
entangled in the stirrups. A tory soldier, seeing his plight, rushed
towards him with fixed bayonet. He had just time to draw a pistol from
the holster. “You’re my prisoner,” cried the tory. “Not yet!” exclaimed
Arnold, and shot him dead. Then extricating his foot from the stirrup,
he threw himself into the thickets of a neighboring swamp, and escaped,
unharmed by the bullets that whistled after him, and joined his
retreating troops.
General Tryon intrenched for the night in Ridgefield, his troops having
suffered greatly in their harassed retreat. The next morning, after
having set fire to four houses, he continued his march for the ships.
Colonel Huntingdon, of the Continental army, with the troops which had
been stationed at Danbury, the scattered forces of Wooster which had
joined him, and a number of militia, hung on the rear of the enemy as
soon as they were in motion. Arnold was again in the field, with his
rallied forces, strengthened by Lieutenant-colonel Oswald with two
companies of Lamb’s artillery regiment and three field-pieces. With
these he again posted himself on the enemy’s route.
Difficulties and annoyances had multiplied upon the latter at every
step. When they came in sight of the position where Arnold was waiting
for them, they changed their route, wheeled to the left, and made for a
ford of Saugatuck River. Arnold hastened to cross the bridge and take
them in flank, but they were too quick for him. Colonel Lamb had now
reached the scene of action, as had about two hundred volunteers.
Leaving to Oswald the charge of the artillery, he put himself at the
head of the volunteers, and led them up to Arnold’s assistance.
The enemy, finding themselves hard pressed, pushed for Canepo Hill. They
reached it in the evening, without a round of ammunition in their
cartridge-boxes. As they were now within cannon shot of their ships, the
Americans ceased the pursuit. The British formed upon the high ground,
brought their artillery to the front, and sent off to the ships for
reinforcements. Sir William Erskine landed a large body of marines and
sailors, who drove the Americans back for some distance, and covered the
embarkation of the troops. Colonel Lamb, while leading on his men
gallantly to capture the British field-pieces, was wounded by a grape
shot, and Arnold, while cheering on the militia, had another horse shot
under him. In the mean time, the harassed marauders effected their
embarkation, and the fleet got under way.
In this inroad the enemy destroyed a considerable amount of military
stores, and seventeen hundred tents prepared for the use of Washington’s
army in the ensuing campaign. The loss of General Wooster was deeply
deplored. He survived the action long enough to be consoled in his dying
moments at Danbury, by the presence of his wife and son, who hastened
thither from New Haven. As to Arnold, his gallantry in this affair
gained him fresh laurels, and Congress, to remedy their late error,
promoted him to the rank of major-general. Still this promotion did not
restore him to his proper position. He was at the bottom of the list of
major-generals, with four officers above him, his juniors in service.
Washington felt this injustice on the part of Congress, and wrote about
it to the president. “He has certainly discovered,” said he, “in every
instance where he has had an opportunity, much bravery, activity and
enterprise. But what will be done about his rank? He will not act, most
probably, under those he commanded but a few weeks ago.”
As an additional balm to Arnold’s wounded pride, Congress a few days
afterwards voted that a horse, properly caparisoned, should be presented
to him in their name, as a token of their approbation of his gallant
conduct in the late action, “in which he had one horse shot under him
and another wounded.” But after all he remained at the bottom of the
list, and the wound still rankled in his bosom.
The destructive expeditions against the American depôts of military
stores, were retaliated in kind by Colonel Meigs, a spirited officer,
who had accompanied Arnold in his expedition through the wilderness
against Quebec, and had caught something of his love for hardy exploit.
Having received intelligence that the British commissaries had collected
a great amount of grain, forage, and other supplies at Sag Harbor, a
small port in the deep bay which forks the east end of Long Island, he
crossed the Sound on the 23d of May from Guilford in Connecticut, with
about one hundred and seventy men in whale-boats convoyed by two armed
sloops: landed on the island near Southold; carried the boats a distance
of fifteen miles across the north fork of the bay, launched them into
the latter, crossed it, landed within four miles of Sag Harbor, and
before daybreak carried the place, which was guarded by a company of
foot. A furious fire of round and grape shot was opened upon the
Americans from an armed schooner, anchored about one hundred and fifty
yards from shore; and stout defence was made by the crews of a dozen
brigs and sloops lying at the wharf to take in freight; but Meigs
succeeded in burning these vessels, destroying every thing on shore, and
carrying off ninety prisoners; among whom were the officer of the
company of foot, the commissaries, and the captains of most of the small
vessels. With these he and his party recrossed the bay, transported
their boats again across the fork of land, launched them on the Sound,
and got safe back to Guilford, having achieved all this, and traversed
about ninety miles of land and water, in twenty-five hours. Washington
was so highly pleased with the spirit and success of this enterprise,
that he publicly returned thanks to Colonel Meigs and the officers and
men engaged in it. It could not fail, he said, greatly to distress the
enemy in the important and essential article of forage. But it was the
moral effect of the enterprise which gave it the most value. It is
difficult, at the present day, sufficiently to appreciate the importance
of partisan exploits of the kind, in the critical stage of the war of
which we are treating. They cheered the spirit of the people, depressed
by overshadowing dangers and severe privations, and kept alive the
military spark that was to kindle into the future flame.