PARTICULARS OF THE EVACUATION—INDIAN SCOUTS IN THE VICINITY OF THE
FORT—OUTPOSTS ABANDONED BY ST. CLAIR—BURGOYNE SECURES MOUNT
HOPE—INVESTS THE FORTRESS—SEIZES AND OCCUPIES SUGAR HILL—THE FORTS
OVERLOOKED AND IN IMMINENT PERIL—DETERMINATION TO EVACUATE—PLAN OF
RETREAT—PART OF THE GARRISON DEPART FOR SKENESBOROUGH IN THE
FLOTILLA—ST. CLAIR CROSSES WITH THE REST TO FORT INDEPENDENCE—A
CONFLAGRATION REVEALS HIS RETREAT—THE BRITISH CAMP AROUSED—FRASER
PURSUES ST. CLAIR—BURGOYNE WITH HIS SQUADRON MAKES AFTER THE
FLOTILLA—PART OF THE FUGITIVES OVERTAKEN—FLIGHT OF THE REMAINDER TO
FORT ANNE—SKIRMISH OF COLONEL LONG—RETREAT TO FORT EDWARD—ST. CLAIR
AT CASTLETON—ATTACK OF HIS REAR-GUARD—FALL OF COLONEL
FRANCIS—DESERTION OF COLONEL HALE—ST. CLAIR REACHES FORT
EDWARD—CONSTERNATION OF THE COUNTRY—EXULTATION OF THE BRITISH.
In the accounts given in the preceding chapter of the approach of
Burgoyne to Ticonderoga, it was stated that he had encamped four miles
north of the fortress, and intrenched himself. On the 2d of July, Indian
scouts made their appearance in the vicinity of a block-house and some
outworks about the strait or channel leading to Lake George. As General
St. Clair did not think the garrison sufficient to defend all the
outposts, these works with some adjacent saw-mills were set on fire and
abandoned. The extreme left of Ticonderoga was weak, and might easily be
turned; a post had therefore been established in the preceding year,
nearly half a mile in advance of the old French lines, on an eminence to
the north of them. General St. Clair, through singular remissness, had
neglected to secure it. Burgoyne soon discovered this neglect, and
hastened to detach Generals Phillips and Fraser with a body of infantry
and light artillery, to take possession of this post. They did so
without opposition. Heavy guns were mounted upon it; Fraser’s whole
corps was stationed there; the post commanded the communication by land
and water with Lake George, so as to cut off all supplies from that
quarter. In fact, such were the advantages expected from this post, thus
neglected by St. Clair, that the British gave it the significant name of
Mount Hope.
The enemy now proceeded gradually to invest Ticonderoga. A line of
troops was drawn from the western part of Mount Hope round to Three Mile
Point, where General Fraser was posted with the advance guard, while
General Riedesel encamped with the German reserve in a parallel line, on
the opposite side of Lake Champlain, at the foot of Mount Independence.
For two days the enemy occupied themselves in making their advances and
securing these positions, regardless of a cannonade kept up by the
American batteries.
St. Clair began to apprehend that a regular siege was intended, which
would be more difficult to withstand than a direct assault; he kept up a
resolute aspect, however, and went about among his troops, encouraging
them with the hope of a successful resistance, but enjoining incessant
vigilance, and punctual attendance at the alarm posts at morning and
evening roll-call.
With all the pains and expense lavished by the Americans to render these
works impregnable, they had strangely neglected the master key by which
they were all commanded. This was Sugar Hill, a rugged height, the
termination of a mountain ridge which separates Lake Champlain from Lake
George. It stood to the south of Ticonderoga, beyond the narrow channel
which connected the two lakes, and rose precipitously from the waters of
Champlain to the height of six hundred feet. It had been pronounced by
the Americans too distant to be dangerous. Colonel Trumbull, some time
an aide-de-camp to Washington, and subsequently an adjutant, had proved
the contrary in the preceding year, by throwing a shot from a
six-pounder in the fort nearly to the summit. It was then pronounced
inaccessible to an enemy. This Trumbull had likewise proved to be an
error, by clambering with Arnold and Wayne to the top, whence they
perceived that a practicable road for artillery might easily and readily
be made. Trumbull had insisted that this was the true point for the
fort, commanding the neighboring heights, the narrow parts of both
lakes, and the communication between. A small, but strong fort here,
with twenty-five heavy guns and five hundred men, would be as efficient
as one hundred guns and ten thousand men on the extensive works of
Ticonderoga.[40] His suggestions were disregarded. Their wisdom was now
to be proved.
The British General Phillips, on taking his position, had regarded the
hill with a practised eye. He caused it to be reconnoitred by a skilful
engineer. The report was, that it overlooked, and had the entire command
of Fort Ticonderoga and Fort Independence; being about fourteen hundred
yards from the former, and fifteen hundred from the latter; that the
ground could be levelled for cannon, and a road cut up the defiles of
the mountain in four and twenty hours.
Measures were instantly taken to plant a battery on that height. While
the American garrisons were entirely engaged in a different direction,
cannonading Mount Hope and the British lines without material effect,
and without provoking a reply; the British troops were busy throughout
the day and night cutting a road through rocks and trees and up rugged
defiles. Guns, ammunition, and stores, all were carried up the hill in
the night; the cannon were hauled up from tree to tree, and before
morning the ground was levelled for the battery on which they were to be
mounted. To this work, thus achieved by a coup de main, they gave the
name of Fort Defiance.
On the fifth of July, to their astonishment and consternation, the
garrison beheld a legion of red coats on the summit of this hill,
constructing works which must soon lay the fortress at their mercy.
In this sudden and appalling emergency, General St. Clair called a
council of war. What was to be done? The batteries from this new fort
would probably be open the next day: by that time Ticonderoga might be
completely invested, and the whole garrison exposed to capture. They had
not force sufficient for one half the works, and General Schuyler,
supposed to be at Albany, could afford them no relief. The danger was
imminent; delay might prove fatal. It was unanimously determined to
evacuate both Ticonderoga and Mount Independence that very night, and
retreat to Skenesborough (now Whitehall), at the upper part of the lake,
about thirty miles distant, where there was a stockaded fort. The main
body of the army, led by General St. Clair, were to cross to Mount
Independence and push for Skenesborough by land, taking a circuitous
route through the woods on the east side of the lake, by the way of
Castleton.
The cannon, stores and provisions, together with the wounded and the
women, were to be embarked on board of two hundred bateaux, and
conducted to the upper extremity of the lake, by Colonel Long with six
hundred men; two hundred of whom in five armed galleys were to form a
rear-guard.
It was now three o’clock in the afternoon; yet all the preparations were
to be made for the coming night, and that with as little bustle and
movement as possible; for they were overlooked by Fort Defiance, and
their intentions might be suspected. Every thing, therefore, was done
quietly, but alertly; in the mean time, to amuse the enemy, a cannonade
was kept up every half hour toward the new battery on the hill. As soon
as the evening closed, and their movements could not be discovered, they
began in all haste to load the boats. Such of the cannon as could not be
taken were ordered to be spiked. It would not do to knock off their
trunnions, lest the noise should awaken suspicions. In the hurry several
were left uninjured. The lights in the garrison being previously
extinguished, their tents were struck and put on board of the boats, and
the women and the sick embarked. Every thing was conducted with such
silence and address, that, although it was a moonlight night, the
flotilla departed undiscovered; and was soon under the shadows of
mountains and overhanging forests.
The retreat by land was not conducted with equal discretion and mystery.
General St. Clair had crossed over the bridge to the Vermont side of the
lake by three o’clock in the morning, and set forward with his advance
through the woods toward Hubbardton; but, before the rear-guard under
Colonel Francis got in motion, the house at Fort Independence, which had
been occupied by the French General de Fermois, was set on fire—by his
orders, it is said, though we are loth to charge him with such
indiscretion; such gross and wanton violation of the plan of retreat.
The consequences were disastrous. The British sentries at Mount Hope
were astonished by a conflagration suddenly lighting up Mount
Independence, and revealing the American troops in full retreat; for the
rear-guard, disconcerted by this sudden exposure, pressed forward for
the woods in the utmost haste and confusion.
The drums beat to arms in the British camp. Alarm guns were fired from
Mount Hope: General Fraser dashed into Ticonderoga with his pickets,
giving orders for his brigade to arm in all haste and follow. By
daybreak he had hoisted the British flag over the deserted fortress;
before sunrise he had passed the bridge, and was in full pursuit of the
American rear-guard. Burgoyne was roused from his morning slumbers on
board of the frigate Royal George, by the alarm guns from Fort Hope, and
a message from General Fraser, announcing the double retreat of the
Americans by land and water. From the quarter-deck of the frigate he
soon had confirmation of the news. The British colors were flying on
Fort Ticonderoga, and Fraser’s troops were glittering on the opposite
shore.
Burgoyne’s measures were prompt. General Riedesel was ordered to follow
and support Fraser with a part of the German troops; garrisons were
thrown into Ticonderoga and Mount Independence; the main part of the
army was embarked on board of the frigates and gunboats; the floating
bridge with its boom and chain, which had cost months to construct, was
broken through by nine o’clock; when Burgoyne set out with his squadron
in pursuit of the flotilla.
We left the latter making its retreat on the preceding evening towards
Skenesborough. The lake above Ticonderoga becomes so narrow that, in
those times, it was frequently called South River. Its beautiful waters
wound among mountains covered with primeval forests. The bateaux, deeply
laden, made their way slowly in a lengthened line; sometimes under the
shadows of the mountains, sometimes in the gleam of moonlight. The
rear-guard of armed galleys followed at wary distance. No immediate
pursuit, however, was apprehended. The floating bridge was considered an
effectual impediment to the enemy’s fleet. Gayety, therefore, prevailed
among the fugitives. They exulted in the secrecy and dexterity with
which they had managed their retreat, and amused themselves with the
idea of what would be the astonishment of the enemy at daybreak. The
officers regaled merrily on the stores saved from Ticonderoga, and
knocking off the necks of bottles of wine, drank a pleasant _reveille_
to General Burgoyne.
About three o’clock in the afternoon of the succeeding day, the heavily
laden bateaux arrived at Skenesborough. The disembarkation had scarcely
commenced when the thundering of artillery was heard from below. Could
the enemy be at hand? It was even so. The British gunboats having pushed
on in advance of the frigates, had overtaken and were firing upon the
galleys. The latter defended themselves for a while, but at length two
struck, and three were blown up. The fugitives from them brought word
that the British ships not being able to come up, troops and Indians
were landing from them and scrambling up the hills; intending to get in
the rear of the fort and cut off all retreat.
All now was consternation and confusion. The bateaux, the storehouses,
the fort, the mill were all set on fire, and a general flight took place
toward Fort Anne, about twelve miles distant. Some made their way in
boats up Wood Creek, a winding stream. The main body under Colonel Long,
retreated by a narrow defile cut through the woods; harassed all night
by alarms that the Indians were close in pursuit. Both parties reached
Fort Anne by daybreak. It was a small picketed fort, near the junction
of Wood Creek and East Creek, about sixteen miles from Fort Edward.
General Schuyler arrived at the latter place on the following day. The
number of troops with him was inconsiderable, but, hearing of Colonel
Long’s situation, he immediately sent him a small reinforcement, with
provisions and ammunition, and urged him to maintain his post
resolutely.
On the same day Colonel Long’s scouts brought in word that there were
British red coats approaching. They were in fact a regiment under
Lieutenant-colonel Hill, detached from Skenesborough by Burgoyne in
pursuit of the fugitives. Long sallied forth to meet them; posting
himself at a rocky defile, where there was a narrow pathway along the
border of Wood Creek. As the enemy advanced he opened a heavy fire upon
them in front, while a part of his troops crossing and recrossing the
creek, and availing themselves of their knowledge of the ground, kept up
a shifting attack from the woods in flank and rear. Apprehensive of
being surrounded, the British took post upon a high hill to their right,
where they were warmly besieged for nearly two hours, and, according to
their own account, would certainly have been forced, had not some of
their Indian allies arrived and set up the much-dreaded war-whoop. It
was answered with three cheers by the British upon the hill. This
changed the fortune of the day. The Americans had nearly expended their
ammunition, and had not enough left to cope with this new enemy. They
retreated, therefore, to Fort Anne, carrying with them a number of
prisoners, among whom were a captain and surgeon. Supposing the troops
under Colonel Hill an advance guard of Burgoyne’s army, they set fire to
the fort and pushed on to fort Edward; where they gave the alarm that
the main force of the enemy was close after them, and that no one knew
what had become of General St. Clair and the troops who had retreated
with him. We shall now clear up the mystery of his movements.
His retreat through the woods from Mount Independence continued the
first day until night, when he arrived at Castleton, thirty miles from
Ticonderoga. His rear-guard halted about six miles short, at Hubbardton,
to await the arrival of stragglers. It was composed of three regiments,
under Colonels Seth Warner, Francis and Hale; in all about thirteen
hundred men.
Early the next morning, a sultry morning of July, while they were taking
their breakfast, they were startled by the report of fire-arms. Their
sentries had discharged their muskets, and came running in with word
that the enemy were at hand.
It was General Fraser, with his advance of eight hundred and fifty men,
who had pressed forward in the latter part of the night, and now
attacked the Americans with great spirit, notwithstanding their
superiority in numbers; in fact, he expected to be promptly reinforced
by Riedesel and his Germans. The Americans met the British with great
spirit; but at the very commencement of the action, Colonel Hale, with a
detachment placed under his command to protect the rear, gave way,
leaving Warner and Francis with but seven hundred men to bear the brunt
of the battle. These posted themselves behind logs and trees in
‘backwood’ style, whence they kept up a destructive fire, and were
evidently gaining the advantage, when General Riedesel came pressing
into the action with his German troops; drums beating and colors flying.
There was now an impetuous charge with the bayonet. Colonel Francis was
among the first who fell, gallantly fighting at the head of his men. The
Americans, thinking the whole German force upon them, gave way and fled,
leaving the ground covered with their dead and wounded. Many others who
had been wounded perished in the woods, where they had taken refuge.
Their whole loss in killed, wounded and taken, was upwards of three
hundred; that of the enemy one hundred and eighty-three. Several
officers were lost on both sides. Among those wounded of the British was
Major Ackland of the grenadiers, of whose further fortunes in the war we
shall have to speak hereafter.
The noise of the firing when the action commenced had reached General
St. Clair at Castleton. He immediately sent orders to two militia
regiments which were in his rear, and within two miles of the battle
ground, to hasten to the assistance of his rear-guard. They refused to
obey, and hurried forward to Castleton. At this juncture St. Clair
received information of Burgoyne’s arrival at Skenesborough, and the
destruction of the American works there: fearing to be intercepted at
Fort Anne, he immediately changed his route, struck into the woods on
his left, and directed his march to Rutland, leaving word for Warner to
follow him. The latter overtook him two days afterwards, with his
shattered force reduced to ninety men. As to Colonel Hale, who had
pressed towards Castleton at the beginning of the action, he and his men
were overtaken the same day by the enemy, and the whole party captured,
without making any fight. It has been alleged in his excuse, with
apparent justice, that he and a large portion of his men were in feeble
health, and unfit for action; for his own part, he died while yet a
prisoner, and never had the opportunity which he sought, to vindicate
himself before a court-martial.
On the 12th St. Clair reached Fort Edward, his troops haggard and
exhausted by their long retreat through the woods. Such is the story of
the catastrophe at Fort Ticonderoga, which caused so much surprise and
concern to Washington, and of the seven days’ mysterious disappearance
of St. Clair, which kept every one in the most painful suspense.
The loss of artillery, ammunition, provisions and stores, in consequence
of the evacuation of these northern posts, was prodigious; but the worst
effect was the consternation spread throughout the country. A panic
prevailed at Albany, the people running about as if distracted, sending
off their goods and furniture.[41] The great barriers of the North, it
was said, were broken through, and there was nothing to check the
triumphant career of the enemy.
The invading army, both officers and men, according to a British writer
of the time, “were highly elated with their fortune, and deemed that and
their prowess to be irresistible. They regarded their enemy with the
greatest contempt, and considered their own toils to be nearly at an
end, and Albany already in their hands.”
In England too, according to the same author, the joy and exultation
were extreme; not only at court, but with all those who hoped or wished
the unqualified subjugation and unconditional submission of the
colonies. “The loss in reputation was greater to the Americans,” adds
he, “and capable of more fatal consequences, than that of ground, of
posts, of artillery, or of men. All the contemptuous and most degrading
charges which had been made by their enemies, of their wanting the
resolution and abilities of men, even in defence of what was dear to
them, were now repeated and believed.” * * * “It was not difficult to
diffuse an opinion that the war, in effect, was over, and that any
further resistance would render the terms of their submission worse.
Such,” he concludes, “were some of the immediate effects of the loss of
those grand keys of North America, Ticonderoga and the lakes.”[42]