LANDING OF HOWE’S ARMY ON ELK RIVER—MEASURES TO CHECK IT—EXPOSED
SITUATION OF WASHINGTON IN RECONNOITRING—ALARM OF THE
COUNTRY—PROCLAMATION OF HOWE—ARRIVAL OF SULLIVAN—FOREIGN OFFICERS IN
CAMP—DEBORRE—CONWAY—FLEURY—COUNT PULASKI—FIRST APPEARANCE IN THE
ARMY OF ‘LIGHT-HORSE HARRY’ OF VIRGINIA—WASHINGTON’S APPEAL TO THE
ARMY—MOVEMENTS OF THE RIVAL FORCES—BATTLE OF THE BRANDYWINE—RETREAT
OF THE AMERICANS—HALT IN CHESTER—SCENES IN PHILADELPHIA DURING THE
BATTLE—CONGRESS ORDERS OUT MILITIA—CLOTHES WASHINGTON WITH
EXTRAORDINARY POWERS—REMOVES TO LANCASTER—REWARDS TO FOREIGN
OFFICERS.
On the 25th of August, the British army under General Howe began to land
from the fleet in Elk River, at the bottom of Chesapeake Bay. The place
where they landed was about six miles below the Head of Elk (now
Elkton), a small town, the capital of Cecil County. This was seventy
miles from Philadelphia; ten miles further from that city than they had
been when encamped at Brunswick. The intervening country, too, was less
open than the Jerseys, and cut up by deep streams. Sir William had
chosen this circuitous route in the expectation of finding friends among
the people of Cecil County, and of the lower counties of Pennsylvania;
many of whom were Quakers and non-combatants, and many persons
disaffected to the patriot cause.
Early in the evening, Washington received intelligence that the enemy
were landing. There was a quantity of public and private stores at the
Head of Elk, which he feared would fall into their hands if they moved
quickly. Every attempt was to be made to check them. The divisions of
Generals Greene and Stephen were within a few miles of Wilmington;
orders were sent for them to march thither immediately. The two other
divisions, which had halted at Chester to refresh, were to hurry
forward. Major-general Armstrong, the same who had surprised the Indian
village of Kittaning in the French war, and who now commanded the
Pennsylvania militia, was urged to send down, in the cool of the night,
all the men he could muster, properly armed. “The first attempt of the
enemy,” writes Washington, “will be with light parties to seize horses,
carriages and cattle, and we must endeavor to check them at the outset.”
General Rodney, therefore, who commanded the Delaware militia, was
ordered to throw out scouts and patrols toward the enemy to watch their
motions; and to move near them with his troops, as soon as he should be
reinforced by the Maryland militia.
Light troops were sent out early in the morning to hover about and
harass the invaders. Washington himself, accompanied by General Greene
and the Marquis de Lafayette and their aides, rode forth to reconnoitre
the country in the neighborhood of the enemy, and determine how to
dispose of his forces when they should be collected. The only eminences
near Elk were Iron Hill and Gray’s Hill; the latter within two miles of
the enemy. It was difficult, however, to get a good view of their
encampment, and judge of the number that had landed. Hours were passed
in riding from place to place reconnoitring, and taking a military
survey of the surrounding country. At length a severe storm drove the
party to take shelter in a farm house. Night came on dark and stormy.
Washington showed no disposition to depart. His companions became
alarmed for his safety, there was risk of his being surprised, being so
near the enemy’s camp. He was not to be moved either by advice or
entreaties, but remained all night under the farmer’s roof. When he left
the house at daybreak, however, says Lafayette, he acknowledged his
imprudence, and that the most insignificant traitor might have caused
his ruin.
Indeed, he ran a similar risk to that which in the previous year had
produced General Lee’s catastrophe.
The country was in a great state of alarm. The inhabitants were hurrying
off their most valuable effects, so that it was difficult to procure
cattle and vehicles to remove the public stores. The want of horses, and
the annoyances given by the American light troops, however, kept Howe
from advancing promptly, and gave time for the greater part of the
stores to be saved.
To allay the public alarm, Howe issued a proclamation on the 27th,
promising the strictest regularity and order on the part of his army;
with security of person and property to all who remained quietly at
home, and pardon to those under arms, who should promptly return to
their obedience. The proclamation had a quieting effect, especially
among the loyalists, who abounded in these parts.
The divisions of Generals Greene and Stephen were now stationed several
miles in advance of Wilmington, behind White Clay Creek, about ten miles
from the Head of Elk. General Smallwood and Colonel Gist had been
directed by Congress to take command of the militia of Maryland, who
were gathering on the western shore, and Washington sent them orders to
co-operate with General Rodney and get in the rear of the enemy.
Washington now felt the want of Morgan and his riflemen, whom he had
sent to assist the Northern army; to supply their place, he formed a
corps of light troops, by drafting a hundred men from each brigade. The
command was given to Major-general Maxwell, who was to hover about the
enemy and give them continual annoyance.
The army about this time was increased by the arrival of General
Sullivan and his division of three thousand men. He had recently, while
encamped at Hanover in Jersey, made a gallant attempt to surprise and
capture a corps of one thousand provincials stationed on Staten Island,
at a distance from the fortified camp, and opposite the Jersey shore.
The attempt was partially successful; a number of the provincials were
captured; but the regulars came to the rescue. Sullivan had not brought
sufficient boats to secure a retreat. His rear-guard was captured while
waiting for the return of the boats, yet not without a sharp resistance.
There was loss on both sides, but the Americans suffered most. Congress
had directed Washington to appoint a court of inquiry to investigate the
matter; in the mean time, Sullivan, whose gallantry remained undoubted,
continued in command.
There were now in camp several of those officers and gentlemen from
various parts of Europe who had recently pressed into the service, and
the suitable employment of whom had been a source of much perplexity to
Washington. General Deborre, the French veteran of thirty years’
service, commanded a brigade in Sullivan’s division. Brigadier-general
Conway, the Gallicized Hibernian, was in the division of Lord Stirling.
Beside these, there was Louis Fleury, a French gentleman of noble
descent, who had been educated as an engineer, and had come out at the
opening of the Revolution to offer his services. Washington had obtained
for him a captain’s commission. Another officer of distinguished merit,
was the Count Pulaski, a Pole, recommended by Dr. Franklin, as an
officer famous throughout Europe for his bravery and conduct in defence
of the liberties of his country against Russia, Austria, and Prussia. In
fact, he had been commander-in-chief of the forces of the insurgents. He
served at present as a volunteer in the light-horse, and as that
department was still without a head, and the cavalry was a main object
of attention among the military of Poland, Washington suggested to
Congress the expediency of giving him the command of it. “This
gentleman, we are told,” writes Washington, “has been, like us, engaged
in defending the liberty and independence of his country, and has
sacrificed his fortune to his zeal for those objects. He derives from
hence a title to our respect, that ought to operate in his favor as far
as the good of the service will permit.”
At this time Henry Lee of Virginia, of military renown, makes his first
appearance. He was in the twenty-second year of his age, and in the
preceding year had commanded a company of Virginia volunteers. He had
recently signalized himself in scouting parties, harassing the enemy’s
pickets. Washington, in a letter to the President of Congress (Aug.
30th), writes: “This minute twenty-four British prisoners arrived, taken
yesterday by Captain Lee of the light-horse.” His adventurous exploits
soon won him notoriety, and the popular appellation of “Light-horse
Harry.” He was favorably noticed by Washington throughout the war.
Perhaps there was something beside his bold, dashing spirit, which won
him this favor. There may have been early recollections connected with
it. Lee was the son of the lady who first touched Washington’s heart in
his schoolboy days, the one about whom he wrote rhymes at Mount Vernon
and Greenway Court—his “lowland beauty.”
Several days were now passed by the commander-in-chief almost
continually in the saddle, reconnoitring the roads and passes, and
making himself acquainted with the surrounding country; which was very
much intersected by rivers and small streams, running chiefly from
north-west to south-east. He had now made up his mind to risk a battle
in the open field. It is true his troops were inferior to those of the
enemy in number, equipments, and discipline. Hitherto, according to
Lafayette, “they had fought combats, but not battles.” Still those
combats had given them experience; and though many of them were militia,
or raw recruits, yet the divisions of the army had acquired a facility
at moving in large masses, and were considerably improved in military
tactics. At any rate, it would never do to let Philadelphia, at that
time the capital of the States, fall without a blow. There was a carping
spirit abroad; a disposition to cavil and find fault, which was
prevalent in Philadelphia, and creeping into Congress; something of the
nature of what had been indulged respecting General Schuyler and the
army of the North. Public impatience called for a battle; it was
expected even by Europe; his own valiant spirit required it; though
hitherto he had been held in check by superior considerations of
expediency, and by the controlling interference of Congress. Congress
itself now spurred him on, and he gave way to the native ardor of his
character.
The British army having effected a landing, in which, by the way, it had
experienced but little molestation, was formed into two divisions. One,
under Sir William Howe, was stationed at Elkton, with its advanced guard
at Gray’s Hill, about two miles off. The other division, under General
Knyphausen, was on the opposite side of the ferry, at Cecil Court House.
On the third of September the enemy advanced in considerable force, with
three field-pieces, moving with great caution, as the country was
difficult, woody, and not well known to them. About three miles in front
of White Clay Creek, their vanguard was encountered by General Maxwell
and his light troops, and a severe skirmish took place. The fire of the
American sharpshooters and riflemen, as usual, was very effective; but
being inferior in number, and having no artillery, Maxwell was compelled
to retreat across White Clay Creek, with the loss of about forty killed
and wounded. The loss of the enemy was supposed to be much greater.
The main body of the American army was now encamped on the east side of
Red Clay Creek, on the road leading from Elkton to Philadelphia. The
light-infantry were in the advance, at White Clay Creek. The armies were
from eight to ten miles apart. In this position, Washington determined
to await the threatened attack.
On the 5th of September he made a stirring appeal to the army, in his
general orders, stating the object of the enemy, the capture of
Philadelphia. They had tried it before, from the Jerseys, and had
failed. He trusted they would be again disappointed. In their present
attempt their all was at stake. The whole would be hazarded in a single
battle. If defeated in that, they were totally undone, and the war would
be at an end. Now then was the time for the most strenuous exertions.
One bold stroke would free the land from rapine, devastation, and brutal
outrage. “Two years,” said he, “have we maintained the war, and
struggled with difficulties innumerable, but the prospect has
brightened. Now is the time to reap the fruit of all our toils and
dangers; if we behave like men this third campaign will be our last.”
Washington’s numerical force at this time was about fifteen thousand
men, but from sickness and other causes the effective force, militia
included, did not exceed eleven thousand, and most of these
indifferently armed and equipped. The strength of the British was
computed at eighteen thousand men, but, it is thought, not more than
fifteen thousand were brought into action.
On the 8th, the enemy advanced in two columns; one appeared preparing to
attack the Americans in front, while the other extended its left up the
west side of the creek, halting at Milltown, somewhat to the right of
the American position. Washington now suspected an intention on the part
of Sir William Howe to march by his right, suddenly pass the Brandywine,
gain the heights north of that stream, and cut him off from
Philadelphia. He summoned a council of war, therefore, that evening, in
which it was determined immediately to change their position, and move
to the river in question. By two o’clock in the morning, the army was
under march, and by the next evening was encamped on the high grounds in
the rear of the Brandywine. The enemy on the same evening moved to
Kennet Square, about seven miles from the American position.
The Brandywine Creek, as it is called, commences with two branches,
called the East and West branches, which unite in one stream, flowing
from west to east about twenty-two miles, and emptying itself into the
Delaware about twenty-five miles below Philadelphia. It has several
fords; one called Chadd’s Ford, was at that time the most practicable,
and in the direct route from the enemy’s camp to Philadelphia. As the
principal attack was expected here, Washington made it the centre of his
position, where he stationed the main body of his army, composed of
Wayne’s, Weedon’s, and Muhlenberg’s brigades, with the light-infantry
under Maxwell. An eminence immediately above the ford, had been
intrenched in the night, and was occupied by Wayne and Proctor’s
artillery. Weedon’s and Muhlenberg’s brigades, which were Virginian
troops, and formed General Greene’s division, were posted in the rear on
the heights, as a reserve to aid either wing of the army. With these
Washington took his stand. Maxwell’s light-infantry were thrown in the
advance, south of the Brandywine, and posted on high ground each side of
the road leading to the ford.
The right wing of the army commanded by Sullivan, and composed of his
division and those of Stephen and Stirling, extended up the Brandywine
two miles beyond Washington’s position. Its light troops and videttes
were distributed quite up to the forks. A few detachments of
ill-organized and undisciplined cavalry, extended across the creek on
the extreme right. The left wing, composed of the Pennsylvania militia,
under Major-general Armstrong, was stationed about a mile and a half
below the main body, to protect the lower fords, where the least danger
was apprehended. The Brandywine, which ran in front of the whole line,
was now the only obstacle, if such it might be called, between the two
armies.
Early on the morning of the 11th, a great column of troops was descried
advancing on the road leading to Chadd’s Ford. A skirt of woods
concealed its force, but it was supposed to be the main body of the
enemy; if so, a general conflict was at hand.
The Americans were immediately drawn out in order of battle. Washington
rode along the front of the ranks, and was every where received with
acclamations. A sharp firing of small-arms soon told that Maxwell’s
light-infantry were engaged with the vanguard of the enemy. The
skirmishing was kept up for some time with spirit, when Maxwell was
driven across the Brandywine below the ford. The enemy, who had advanced
but slowly, did not attempt to follow, but halted on commanding ground,
and appeared to reconnoitre the American position with a view to an
attack. A heavy cannonading commenced on both sides, about ten o’clock.
The enemy made repeated dispositions to force the ford, which brought on
as frequent skirmishes on both sides of the river, for detachments of
the light troops occasionally crossed over. One of these skirmishes was
more than usually severe: the British flank-guard was closely pressed, a
captain and ten or fifteen men were killed, and the guard was put to
flight; but a large force came to their assistance, and the Americans
were again driven across the stream. All this while, there was the noise
and uproar of a battle; but little of the reality. The enemy made a
great thundering of cannon, but no vigorous onset, and Colonel Harrison,
Washington’s “old secretary,” seeing this cautious and dilatory conduct
on their part, wrote a hurried note to Congress, expressing his
confident belief that the enemy would be repulsed.
Towards noon came an express from Sullivan, with a note received from a
scouting party, reporting that General Howe, with a large body of troops
and a park of artillery, was pushing up the Lancaster road, doubtless to
cross at the upper fords and turn the right flank of the American
position.
Startled by the information, Washington instantly sent off Colonel
Theodoric Bland, with a party of horse, to reconnoitre above the forks
and ascertain the truth of the report. In the mean time, he resolved to
cross the ford, attack the division in front of him with his whole
force, and rout it before the other could arrive. He gave orders for
both wings to co-operate, when, as Sullivan was preparing to cross,
Major Spicer of the militia rode up, just from the forks, and assured
him there was no enemy in that quarter. Sullivan instantly transmitted
the intelligence to Washington, whereupon the movement was suspended
until positive information could be obtained. After a time came a man of
the neighborhood, Thomas Cheyney by name, spurring in all haste, the
mare he rode in foam, and himself out of breath. Dashing up to the
commander-in-chief, he informed him that he must instantly move, or he
would be surrounded. He had come upon the enemy unawares; had been
pursued and fired upon, but the fleetness of his mare had saved him. The
main body of the British was coming down on the east side of the stream,
and was near at hand. Washington replied, that, from information just
received, it could not be so. “You are mistaken, general,” replied the
other vehemently; “my life for it, you are mistaken.” Then reiterating
the fact with an oath, and making a draft of the road in the sand, “put
me under guard,” added he, “until you find my story true.”
Another despatch from Sullivan corroborated it. Colonel Bland, whom
Washington had sent to reconnoitre above the forks, had seen the enemy
two miles in the rear of Sullivan’s right, marching down at a rapid
rate, while a cloud of dust showed that there were more troops behind
them.
In fact, the old Long Island stratagem had been played over again.
Knyphausen with a small division had engrossed the attention of the
Americans by a feigned attack at Chadd’s Ford, kept up with great noise
and prolonged by skirmishes; while the main body of the army under
Cornwallis, led by experienced guides, had made a circuit of seventeen
miles, crossed the two forks of the Brandywine, and arrived in the
neighborhood of Birmingham meeting-house, two miles to the right of
Sullivan. It was a capital stratagem, secretly and successfully
conducted.
Finding that Cornwallis had thus gained the rear of the army, Washington
sent orders to Sullivan to oppose him with the whole right wing, each
brigade attacking as soon as it arrived upon the ground. Wayne, in the
mean time, was to keep Knyphausen at bay at the ford, and Greene, with
the reserve, to hold himself ready to give aid wherever required.
Lafayette, as a volunteer, had hitherto accompanied the
commander-in-chief, but now, seeing there was likely to be warm work
with the right wing, he obtained permission to join Sullivan; and
spurred off with his aide-de-camp to the scene of action. From his
narrative, we gather some of the subsequent details.
[Illustration: Two hand-drawn Revolutionary War maps showing troop
positions and movements near the Brandywine Creek and Chad’s Ford. The
upper map labels American and British positions around Dilworth,
Birmingham Meeting House, Sullivan’s command, Cornwallis’s march, and
Gen. Howe’s headquarters, with Brinton’s and Chad’s fords marked along
the creek. The lower map shows the Brandywine Creek crossings in greater
detail, including Jeffery’s, Jones’s, Buffington’s, Brinton’s, and
Trimble’s fords, with roads to Lancaster and Kennett Square and British
troop movements indicated.]
Sullivan, on receiving Washington’s orders, advanced with his own,
Stephen’s and Stirling’s divisions, and began to form a line in front of
an open piece of wood. The time which had been expended in transmitting
intelligence, receiving orders, and marching, had enabled Cornwallis to
choose his ground and prepare for action. Still more time was given him
from the apprehension of the three generals, upon consultation, of being
outflanked upon the right; and that the gap between Sullivan’s and
Stephen’s divisions was too wide, and should be closed up. Orders were
accordingly given for the whole line to move to the right; and while in
execution, Cornwallis advanced rapidly with his troops in the finest
order, and opened a brisk fire of musketry and artillery. The Americans
made an obstinate resistance, but being taken at a disadvantage, the
right and left wings were broken and driven into the woods. The centre
stood firm for a while, but being exposed to the whole fire of the
enemy, gave way at length also. The British, in following up their
advantage, got entangled in the wood. It was here that Lafayette
received his wound. He had thrown himself from his horse and was
endeavoring to rally the troops, when he was shot through the leg with a
musket ball, and had to be assisted into the saddle by his aide-de-camp.
The Americans rallied on a height to the north of Dilworth, and made a
still more spirited resistance than at first, but were again dislodged
and obliged to retreat with a heavy loss.
While this was occurring with the right wing, Knyphausen, as soon as he
learnt from the heavy firing that Cornwallis was engaged, made a push to
force his way across Chadd’s Ford in earnest. He was vigorously opposed
by Wayne with Proctor’s artillery, aided by Maxwell and his infantry.
Greene was preparing to second him with the reserve, when he was
summoned by Washington to the support of the right wing; which the
commander-in-chief had found in imminent peril.
Greene advanced to the relief with such celerity, that it is said, on
good authority, his division accomplished the march, or rather run, of
five miles, in less than fifty minutes. He arrived too late to save the
battle, but in time to protect the broken masses of the left wing, which
he met in full flight. Opening his ranks from time to time for the
fugitives, and closing them the moment they had passed, he covered their
retreat by a sharp and well-directed fire from his field-pieces. His
grand stand was made at a place about a mile beyond Dilworth, which, in
reconnoitring the neighborhood, Washington had pointed out to him, as
well calculated for a second position, should the army be driven out of
the first; and here he was overtaken by Colonel Pinckney, an
aide-de-camp of the commander-in-chief, ordering him to occupy this
position and protect the retreat of the army. The orders were implicitly
obeyed. Weedon’s brigade was drawn up in a narrow defile, flanked on
both sides by woods, and perfectly commanding the road; while Greene,
with Muhlenberg’s brigade, passing to the right took his station on the
road. The British came on impetuously, expecting but faint opposition.
They met with a desperate resistance and were repeatedly driven back. It
was the bloody conflict of the bayonet; deadly on either side, and
lasting for a considerable time. Weedon’s brigade on the left maintained
its stand also with great obstinacy, and the check given to the enemy by
these two brigades, allowed time for the broken troops to retreat.
Weedon’s was at length compelled by superior numbers to seek the
protection of the other brigade, which he did in good order, and Greene
gradually drew off the whole division in face of the enemy, who, checked
by this vigorous resistance, and seeing the day far spent, gave up all
further pursuit.
The brave stand made by these brigades had, likewise, been a great
protection to Wayne. He had for a long time withstood the attacks of the
enemy at Chadd’s Ford, until the approach on the right, of some of the
enemy’s troops who had been entangled in the woods, showed him that the
right wing had been routed. He now gave up the defence of his post, and
retreated by the Chester road. Knyphausen’s troops were too fatigued to
pursue him; and the others had been kept back, as we have shown, by
Greene’s division. So ended the varied conflict of the day.
Lafayette gives an animated picture of the general retreat, in which he
became entangled. He had endeavored to rejoin Washington, but loss of
blood compelled him to stop and have his wound bandaged. While thus
engaged, he came near being captured. All around him was headlong terror
and confusion. Chester road, the common retreat of the broken fragments
of the army, from every quarter, was crowded with fugitives, with
cannon, with baggage cars, all hurrying forward pell-mell, and
obstructing each other; while the thundering of cannon, and volleying of
musketry by the contending parties in the rear, added to the confusion
and panic of the flight.
The dust, the uproar, and the growing darkness, threw every thing into
chaos; there was nothing but a headlong struggle forward. At Chester,
however, twelve miles from the field of battle, there was a deep stream
with a bridge, over which the fugitives would have to pass. Here
Lafayette set a guard to prevent their further flight. The
commander-in-chief, arriving soon after with Greene and his gallant
division, some degree of order was restored, and the whole army took its
post behind Chester for the night.
The scene of this battle, which decided the fate of Philadelphia, was
within six and twenty miles of that city, and each discharge of cannon
could be heard there. The two parties of the inhabitants, whig and tory,
were to be seen in separate groups in the squares and public places,
waiting the event in anxious silence. At length a courier arrived. His
tidings spread consternation among the friends of liberty. Many left
their homes; entire families abandoned every thing in terror and
despair, and took refuge in the mountains. Congress, that same evening,
determined to quit the city and repair to Lancaster, whence they
subsequently removed to Yorktown. Before leaving Philadelphia, however,
they summoned the militia of Pennsylvania, and the adjoining States, to
join the main army without delay; and ordered down fifteen hundred
Continental troops from Putnam’s command on the Hudson. They also
clothed Washington with power to suspend officers for misbehavior; to
fill up all vacancies under the rank of brigadiers; to take all
provisions, and other articles necessary for the use of the army,
paying, or giving certificates for the same; and to remove, or secure
for the benefit of the owners, all goods and effects which might
otherwise fall into the hands of the enemy and be serviceable to them.
These extraordinary powers were limited to the circumference of seventy
miles round head-quarters, and were to continue in force sixty days,
unless sooner revoked by Congress.
It may be as well here to notice in advance, the conduct of Congress
toward some of the foreigners who had mingled in this battle. Count
Pulaski, the Polish nobleman, heretofore mentioned, who acted with great
spirit as a volunteer in the light-horse, riding up within pistol shot
of the enemy to reconnoitre, was given a command of cavalry with the
rank of brigadier-general. Captain Louis Fleury, also, who had acquitted
himself with gallantry, and rendered essential aid in rallying the
troops, having had a horse killed under him, was presented by Congress
with another, as a testimonial of their sense of his merit.
Lafayette speaks, in his memoirs, of the brilliant manner in which
General Conway, the chevalier of St. Louis, acquitted himself at the
head of eight hundred men, in the encounter with the troops of
Cornwallis near Birmingham meeting-house. The veteran Deborre was not
equally fortunate in gaining distinction on this occasion. In the
awkward change of position in the line when in front of the enemy, he
had been the first to move, and without waiting for orders. The
consequence was, his brigade fell into confusion, and was put to flight.
He endeavored to rally it, and was wounded in the attempt; but his
efforts were in vain. Congress ordered a court of inquiry on his
conduct, whereupon he resigned his commission, and returned to France,
complaining bitterly of his hard treatment. “It was not his fault,” he
said, “if American troops would run away.”