THE HIGHLAND PASSES OF THE HUDSON—GEORGE CLINTON IN COMMAND OF THE
FORTS—HIS MEASURES FOR DEFENCE—GENERALS GREENE AND KNOX EXAMINE THE
STATE OF THE FORTS—THEIR REPORT—THE GENERAL COMMAND OF THE HUDSON
OFFERED TO ARNOLD—DECLINED BY HIM—GIVEN TO PUTNAM—APPOINTMENT OF DR.
CRAIK IN THE MEDICAL DEPARTMENT—EXPEDITION PLANNED AGAINST FORT
INDEPENDENCE—BUT RELINQUISHED—WASHINGTON SHIFTS HIS CAMP TO
MIDDLEBROOK—STATE OF HIS ARMY—GENERAL HOWE CROSSES INTO THE
JERSEYS—POSITION OF THE TWO ARMIES AT MIDDLEBROOK AND BEHIND THE
RARITAN—CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN WASHINGTON AND COLONEL REED.
The Highland passes of the Hudson, always objects of anxious thought to
Washington, were especially so at this juncture. General McDougall still
commanded at Peekskill, and General George Clinton, who resided at New
Windsor, had command of the Highland forts. The latter, at the earnest
request of the New York Convention, had received from Congress the
command of brigadier-general in the Continental army. “My precarious
state of health and want of military knowledge,” writes he, “would have
rather induced me to have led a more retired life than that of the army,
had I been consulted on the occasion; but as, early in the present
contest, I laid it down as a maxim not to refuse my best, though poor
services, to my country in any way they should think proper to employ
me, I cannot refuse the honor done me in the present appointment.”[28]
He was perfectly sincere in what he said. George Clinton was one of the
soldiers of the Revolution who served from a sense of duty, not from
military inclination or a thirst for glory. A long career of public
service in various capacities illustrated his modest worth and devoted
patriotism.
When the “unhappy affair of Peekskill” had alarmed the Convention of New
York for the safety of the forts on the Highlands, Clinton, authorized
by that body, had ordered out part of the militia of Orange, Dutchess,
and Westchester counties, without waiting for Washington’s approbation
of the measure. He had strengthened, also, with anchors and cables, the
chain drawn across the river at Fort Montgomery. “Had the Convention
suffered me to have paid my whole attention to this business,” writes he
to Washington (18th April), “it would have been nearly completed by this
time.”
A few days later came word that several transports were anchored at
Dobbs’ Ferry in the Tappan Sea. It might be intended to divert attention
from a movement towards the Delaware; or to make incursions into the
country back of Morristown, seize on the passes through the mountains,
and cut off the communication between the army and the Hudson. To
frustrate such a design, Washington ordered Clinton to post as good a
number of troops from his garrison as he could spare, on the mountains
west of the river.
In the month of May, he writes to General McDougall: “The imperfect
state of the fortifications of Fort Montgomery gives me great
uneasiness, because I think, from a concurrence of circumstances, that
it begins to look as if the enemy intended to turn their view towards
the North River instead of the Delaware. I therefore desire that General
George Clinton, and yourself, will fall upon every measure to put the
fortifications in such a state that they may at least resist a sudden
attack, and keep the enemy employed till reinforcements may arrive. If
the North River is their object, they cannot accomplish it unless they
withdraw their forces from the Jerseys, and that they cannot do unknown
to us.”
On the 12th of May, General Greene received instructions from Washington
to proceed to the Highlands, and examine the state and condition of the
forts, especially Fort Montgomery; the probability of an attack by
water, the practicability of an approach by land; where and how this
could be effected, and the eminences whence the forts could be annoyed.
This done, and the opinions of the general officers present having been
consulted, he was to give such orders and make such disposition of the
troops as might appear necessary for the greater security of the passes
by land and water. When reconnoitring the Highlands in the preceding
year, Washington had remarked a wild and rugged pass on the western side
of the Hudson round Bull Hill, a rocky, forest-clad mountain, forming an
advance rampart at the entrance to Peekskill Bay. “This pass,” he
observed, “should also be attended to, _lest the enemy by a coup de main
should possess themselves of it, before a sufficient force could be
assembled to oppose them_.” Subsequent events will illustrate, though
unfortunately, the sagacity and foresight of this particular
instruction.
General Knox was associated with General Greene in this visit of
inspection. They examined the river and the passes of the Highlands in
company with Generals McDougall, George Clinton, and Anthony Wayne. The
latter, recently promoted to the rank of brigadier, had just returned
from Ticonderoga. The five generals made a joint report to Washington,
in which they recommended the completion of the obstructions in the
river already commenced. These consisted of a boom, or heavy iron chain,
across the river from Fort Montgomery to Anthony’s Nose with cables
stretched in front to break the force of any ship under way, before she
could strike it. The boom was to be protected by the guns of two ships
and two row galleys stationed just above it, and by batteries on shore.
This, it was deemed, would be sufficient to prevent the enemy’s ships
from ascending the river. If these obstructions could be rendered
effective, they did not think the enemy would attempt to operate by
land; “the passes through the Highlands being so exceedingly difficult.”
The general command of the Hudson, from the number of troops to be
assembled there, and the variety of points to be guarded, was one of the
most important in the service, and required an officer of consummate
energy, activity and judgment. It was a major-general’s command, and as
such was offered by Washington to Arnold; intending thus publicly to
manifest his opinion of his deserts, and hoping, by giving him so
important a post, to appease his irritated feelings.
Arnold, however, declined to accept it. In an interview with Washington
at Morristown, he alleged his anxiety to proceed to Philadelphia and
settle his public accounts, which were of considerable amount;
especially as reports had been circulated injurious to his character as
a man of integrity. He intended, therefore, to wait on Congress, and
request a committee of inquiry into his conduct. Beside, he did not
consider the promotion conferred on him by Congress sufficient to
obviate their previous neglect, as it did not give him the rank he had a
claim to, from seniority in the line of brigadiers. In their last
resolve respecting him, they had acknowledged him competent to the
station of major-general, and, therefore, had done away every objection
implied by their former omission. With these considerations he proceeded
to Philadelphia, bearing a letter from Washington to the President of
Congress, countenancing his complaints, and testifying to the excellence
of his military character. We may here add, that the accusations against
him were pronounced false and slanderous by the Board of War; that the
report of the board was confirmed by Congress, but that Arnold was still
left aggrieved and unredressed in point of rank.
The important command of the Hudson being declined by Arnold, was now
given to Putnam, who repaired forthwith to Peekskill. General McDougall
was requested by Washington to aid the veteran in gaining a knowledge of
the post. “You are well acquainted,” writes he, “with the old
gentleman’s temper; he is active, disinterested, and open to
conviction.”
Putnam set about promptly to carry into effect the measures of security
which Greene and Knox had recommended; especially the boom and chain at
Fort Montgomery, about which General George Clinton had busied himself.
Putnam had a peculiar fancy for river obstructions of the kind. A large
part of the New York and New England troops were stationed at this post,
not merely to guard the Hudson, but to render aid either to the Eastern
or Middle States in case of exigency.
About this time, Washington had the satisfaction of drawing near to him
his old friend and travelling companion, Dr. James Craik, the same who
had served with him in Braddock’s campaign, and had voyaged with him
down the Ohio; for whom he now procured the appointment of assistant
director-general of the Hospital department of the middle district,
which included the States between the Hudson and the Potomac. In
offering the situation to the doctor, he writes, “you know how far you
may be benefited or injured by such an appointment, and whether it is
advisable or practicable for you to quit your family and practice at
this time. I request, as a friend, that my proposing this matter to you
may have no influence upon your acceptance of it. I have no other end in
view than to serve you.” Dr. Craik, it will be found, remained his
attached and devoted friend through life.
It had been Washington’s earnest wish in the early part of the spring,
to take advantage of the inactivity of the enemy, and attempt some
“capital stroke” for the benefit of the next campaign; but the want of
troops prevented him. He now planned a night expedition for Putnam,
exactly suited to the humor of the old general. He was to descend the
Hudson in boats, surprise Fort Independence at Spyt den Duivel Creek,
capture the garrison, and sweep the road between that post and the
Highlands. Putnam was all on fire for the enterprise, when movements on
the part of the enemy, seemingly indicative of a design upon
Philadelphia, obliged Washington to abandon the project, and exert all
his vigilance in watching the hostile operations in the Jerseys.
Accordingly, towards the end of May, he broke up his cantonments at
Morristown, and shifted his camp to Middlebrook, within ten miles of
Brunswick. His whole force fit for duty was now about seven thousand
three hundred men, all from the States south of the Hudson. There were
forty-three regiments, forming ten brigades, commanded by Brigadiers
Muhlenberg, Weedon, Woodford, Scott, Smallwood, Deborre, Wayne, Dehaas,
Conway, and Maxwell. These were apportioned into five divisions of two
brigades each, under Major-generals Greene, Stephen, Sullivan, Lincoln
and Stirling. The artillery was commanded by Knox. Sullivan, with his
division, was stationed on the right at Princeton. With the rest of his
force, Washington fortified himself in a position naturally strong,
among hills, in the rear of the village of Middlebrook. His camp was, on
all sides, difficult of approach, and he rendered it still more so by
intrenchments. The high grounds about it commanded a wide view of the
country around Brunswick, the road to Philadelphia, and the course of
the Raritan, so that the enemy could make no important movement on land,
without his perceiving it.
It was now the beautiful season of the year, and the troops from their
height beheld a fertile and well cultivated country spread before them,
“painted with meadows, green fields and orchards, studded with villages,
and affording abundant supplies and forage.” A part of their duty was to
guard it from the ravage of the enemy, while they held themselves ready
to counteract his movements in every direction.
On the 31st of May, reports were brought to camp that a fleet of a
hundred sail had left New York, and stood out to sea. Whither bound, and
how freighted, was unknown. If they carried troops, their destination
might be Delaware Bay. Eighteen transports, also, had arrived at New
York, with troops in foreign uniforms. Were they those which had been in
Canada, or others immediately from Germany? Those who had reconnoitred
them with glasses could not tell. All was matter of anxious conjecture.
Lest the fleet which had put to sea should be bound farther south than
Delaware Bay, Washington instantly wrote to Patrick Henry, at that time
governor of Virginia, putting him on his guard. “Should this fleet
arrive on your coast, and the enemy attempt to penetrate the country, or
make incursions, I would recommend that the earliest opposition be made
by parties and detachments of militia, without waiting to collect a
large body. I am convinced that this would be attended with the most
salutary consequences, and that greater advantages would be derived from
it, than by deferring the opposition till you assemble a number equal to
that of the enemy.”
The troops in foreign uniforms which had landed from the transports,
proved to be Anspachers, and other German mercenaries; there were
British reinforcements also; and, what was particularly needed, a supply
of tents and camp equipage. Sir William Howe had been waiting for the
latter, and likewise until the ground should be covered with grass.[29]
The country was now in full verdure, affording “green forage” in
abundance, and all things seemed to Sir William propitious for the
opening of the campaign. Early in June, therefore, he gave up ease and
gayety, and luxurious life at New York, and crossing into the Jerseys,
set up his head-quarters at Brunswick.
As soon as Washington ascertained that Sir William’s attention was
completely turned to this quarter, he determined to strengthen his
position with all the force that could be spared from other parts, so as
to be able, in case a favorable opportunity presented, to make an attack
upon the enemy; in the mean time, he would harass them with his light
militia troops, aided by a few Continentals, so as to weaken their
numbers by continual skirmishes. With this view, he ordered General
Putnam to send down most of the Continental troops from Peekskill,
leaving only a number sufficient, in conjunction with the militia, to
guard that post against surprise. They were to proceed in three
divisions, under Generals Parsons, McDougall, and Glover, at one day’s
march distant from each other.
Arnold, in this critical juncture, had been put in command of
Philadelphia, a post which he had been induced to accept, although the
question of rank had not been adjusted to his satisfaction. His command
embraced the western bank of the Delaware with all its fords and passes,
and he took up his station there with a strong body of militia,
supported by a few Continentals, to oppose any attempt of the enemy to
cross the river. He was instructed by Washington to give him notice by
expresses, posted on the road, if any fleet should appear in Delaware
Bay; and to endeavor to concert signals with the camp of Sullivan at
Princeton, by alarm fires upon the hills.
On the night of the 13th of June, General Howe sallied forth in great
force from Brunswick, as if pushing directly for the Delaware, but his
advanced guard halted at Somerset court house, about eight or nine miles
distant. Apprised of this movement, Washington at daybreak reconnoitred
the enemy from the heights before the camp. He observed their front
halting at the court house, but a few miles distant, while troops and
artillery were grouped here and there along the road, and the rear-guard
was still at Brunswick. It was a question with Washington and his
generals, as they reconnoitred the enemy with their glasses, whether
this was a real move toward Philadelphia, or merely a lure to tempt them
down from their strong position. In this uncertainty, Washington drew
out his army in battle array along the heights, but kept quiet. In the
present state of his forces it was his plan not to risk a general
action; but, should the enemy really march toward the Delaware, to hang
heavily upon their rear. Their principal difficulty would be in crossing
that river, and there, he trusted, they would meet with spirited
opposition from the Continental troops and militia, stationed on the
western side under Arnold and Mifflin.
The British took up a strong position, having Millstone Creek on their
left, the Raritan all along their front, and their right resting on
Brunswick, and proceeded to fortify themselves with bastions.
While thus anxiously situated, Washington, on the 14th, received a
letter from Colonel Reed, his former secretary and confidential friend.
A coolness had existed on the general’s part, ever since he had unwarily
opened the satirical letter of General Lee; yet he had acted towards
Reed with his habitual highmindedness, and had recently nominated him as
general of cavalry. The latter had deeply deplored the interruption of
their once unreserved intercourse; he had long, he said, desired to have
one hour of private conversation with Washington on the subject of Lee’s
letter, but had deferred it in the hope of obtaining his own letter to
which that was an answer. In that he had been disappointed by Lee’s
captivity. On the present occasion, Reed’s heart was full, and he refers
to former times in language that is really touching:
“I am sensible, my dear sir,” writes he, “how difficult it is to regain
lost friendship; but the consciousness of never having justly forfeited
yours, and the hope that it may be in my power fully to convince you of
it, are some consolation for an event which I never think of but with
the greatest concern. In the mean time, my dear general, let me entreat
you to judge of me by realities, not by appearances; and believe that I
never entertained or expressed a sentiment incompatible with that regard
I professed for your person and character, and which, whether I shall be
so happy as to possess your future good opinion or not, I shall carry to
my grave with me.
“A late perusal of the letters you honored me with at Cambridge and New
York, last year, afforded me a melancholy pleasure. I cannot help
acknowledging myself deeply affected, in a comparison with those which I
have since received. I should not, my dear sir, have trespassed on your
time and patience at this juncture so long, but that a former letter
upon this subject I fear has miscarried; and whatever may be my future
destination and course of life, I could not support the reflection of
being thought ungrateful and insincere to a friendship which was equally
my pride and my pleasure. May God Almighty crown your virtue, my dear
and much respected general, with deserved success, and make your life as
happy and honorable to yourself as it has been useful to your country.”
The heart of Washington was moved by this appeal, and though in the
midst of military preparations, with a hostile army at hand, he detained
Colonel Reed’s messenger long enough to write a short letter in reply:
“to thank you,” said he, “as I do most sincerely, for the friendly and
affectionate sentiments contained in yours towards me, and to assure you
that I am perfectly convinced of the sincerity of them.
“True it is, I felt myself hurt by a certain letter, which appeared at
that time to be the echo of one from you; I was hurt—not because I
thought my judgment wronged by the expressions contained in it, but
because the same sentiments were not communicated immediately to myself.
The favorable manner in which your opinions, upon all occasions, had
been received, the impressions they made, and the unreserved manner in
which I wished and required them to be given, entitled me, I thought, to
your advice upon any point in which I appeared to be wanting. To meet
with any thing, then, that carried with it a complexion of withholding
that advice from me, and censuring my conduct to another, was such an
argument of disingenuity, that I was not a little mortified at it.
However, I am perfectly satisfied that matters were not as they appeared
from the letter alluded to.”
Washington was not of a distrustful spirit. From this moment, we are
told, that all estrangement disappeared, and the ancient relations of
friendly confidence between him and Colonel Reed were restored.[30] His
whole conduct throughout the affair bears evidence of his candor and
magnanimity.