GENERAL HOWE NEGLECTS TO PURSUE HIS ADVANTAGE—WASHINGTON RETREATS TO
GERMANTOWN—RECROSSES THE SCHUYLKILL AND PREPARES FOR ANOTHER
ACTION—PREVENTED BY STORMS OF RAIN—RETREATS TO FRENCH CREEK—WAYNE
DETACHED TO FALL ON THE ENEMY’S REAR—HIS PICKETS SURPRISED—MASSACRE
OF WAYNE’S MEN—MANOEUVRES OF HOWE ON THE SCHUYLKILL—WASHINGTON SENDS
FOR REINFORCEMENTS—HOWE MARCHES INTO PHILADELPHIA.
Notwithstanding the rout and precipitate retreat of the American army,
Sir William Howe did not press the pursuit, but passed the night on the
field of battle, and remained the two following days at Dilworth,
sending out detachments to take post at Concord and Chester, and seize
on Wilmington, whither the sick and wounded were conveyed. “Had the
enemy marched directly to Derby,” observes Lafayette, “the American army
would have been cut up and destroyed; they lost a precious night, and it
is perhaps the greatest fault in a war in which they have committed
many.”[61]
Washington, as usual, profited by the inactivity of Howe; quietly
retreating through Derby (on the 12th) across the Schuylkill to
Germantown, within a short distance of Philadelphia, where he gave his
troops a day’s repose. Finding them in good spirits, and in nowise
disheartened by the recent affair, which they seemed to consider a check
rather than a defeat, he resolved to seek the enemy again and give him
battle. As preliminary measures, he left some of the Pennsylvania
militia in Philadelphia to guard the city; others, under General
Armstrong, were posted at the various passes of the Schuylkill, with
orders to throw up works; the floating bridge on the lower road was to
be unmoored, and the boats collected and taken across the river.
Having taken these precautions against any hostile movement by the lower
road, Washington recrossed the Schuylkill on the 14th, and advanced
along the Lancaster road, with the intention of turning the left flank
of the enemy. Howe, apprised of his intention, made a similar
disposition to outflank him. The two armies came in sight of each other,
near the Warren Tavern, twenty-three miles from Philadelphia, and were
on the point of engaging, but were prevented by a violent storm of rain,
which lasted for four and twenty hours.
This inclement weather was particularly distressing to the Americans;
who were scantily clothed, most of them destitute of blankets, and
separated from their tents and baggage. The rain penetrated their
cartridge-boxes and the ill-fitted locks of their muskets, rendering the
latter useless, being deficient in bayonets. In this plight, Washington
gave up for the present all thought of attacking the enemy, as their
discipline in the use of the bayonet, with which they were universally
furnished, would give them a great superiority in action. “The
hot-headed politicians,” writes one of his officers, “will no doubt
censure this part of his conduct, while the more judicious will approve
it, as not only expedient, but, in such a case, highly commendable. It
was, without doubt, chagrining to a person of his fine feelings, to
retreat before an enemy not more in number than himself; yet, with a
true greatness of spirit, he sacrificed them to the good of his
country.”[62] There was evidently a growing disposition again to
criticise Washington’s movements, yet how well did this officer judge of
him.
The only aim, at present, was to get to some dry and secure place, where
the army might repose and refit. All day, and for a great part of the
night, they marched under a cold and pelting rain, and through deep and
miry roads, to the Yellow Springs, thence to Warwick, on French Creek; a
weary march in stormy weather for troops destitute of every comfort, and
nearly a thousand of them actually barefooted. At Warwick furnace,
ammunition and a few muskets were obtained, to aid in disputing the
passage of the Schuylkill, and the advance of the enemy on Philadelphia.
From French Creek, Wayne was detached with his division, to get in the
rear of the enemy, form a junction with General Smallwood and the
Maryland militia, and, keeping themselves concealed, watch for an
opportunity to cut off Howe’s baggage and hospital train; in the mean
time, Washington crossed the Schuylkill at Parker’s Ford, and took a
position to defend that pass of the river.
Wayne set off in the night, and, by a circuitous march, got within three
miles of the left wing of the British encamped at Tredyffrin, and
concealing himself in a wood, waited the arrival of Smallwood and his
militia. At daybreak he reconnoitred the camp, where Howe, checked by
the severity of the weather, had contented himself with uniting his
columns, and remained under shelter. All day Wayne hovered about the
camp; there were no signs of marching; all kept quiet, but lay too
compact to be attacked with prudence. He sent repeated messages to
Washington, describing the situation of the enemy, and urging him to
come on and attack them in their camp. “Their supineness,” said he in
one of his notes, “answers every purpose of giving you time to get up:
if they attempt to move, I shall attack them at all events. * * * *
There never was, nor never will be, a finer opportunity of giving the
enemy a fatal blow than at present. For God’s sake push on as fast as
possible.”
Again, at a later hour, he writes: “The enemy are very quiet, washing
and cooking. I expect General Maxwell on the left flank every moment,
and, as I lay on the right, we only want you in their rear to complete
Mr. Howe’s business. I believe he knows nothing of my situation, as I
have taken every precaution to prevent any intelligence getting to him,
at the same time keeping a watchful eye on his front, flanks and rear.”
His motions, however, had not been so secret as he imagined. He was in a
part of the country full of the disaffected, and Sir William had
received accurate information of his force and where he was encamped.
General Grey, with a strong detachment, was sent to surprise him at
night in his lair. Late in the evening, when Wayne had set his pickets
and sentinels, and thrown out his patrols, a countryman brought him word
of the meditated attack. He doubted the intelligence, but strengthened
his pickets and patrols, and ordered his troops to sleep upon their
arms.
At eleven o’clock, the pickets were driven in at the point of the
bayonet—the enemy were advancing in column. Wayne instantly took post on
the right of his position, to cover the retreat of the left, led by
Colonel Humpton, the second in command. The latter was tardy, and
incautiously paraded his troops in front of their fires, so as to be in
full relief. The enemy rushed on without firing a gun; all was the
silent, but deadly work of the bayonet and the cutlass. Nearly three
hundred of Humpton’s men were killed or wounded, and the rest put to
flight. Wayne gave the enemy some well-directed volleys, and then
retreating to a small distance, rallied his troops, and prepared for
further defence. The British, however, contented themselves with the
blow they had given, and retired with very little loss, taking with them
between seventy and eighty prisoners, several of them officers, and
eight baggage waggons, heavily laden.
General Smallwood, who was to have co-operated with Wayne, was within a
mile of him at the time of his attack; and would have hastened to his
assistance with his well-known intrepidity; but he had not the corps
under his command with which he had formerly distinguished himself, and
his raw militia fled in a panic at the first sight of a return party of
the enemy.
Wayne was deeply mortified by the result of this affair, and, finding it
severely criticised in the army, demanded a court-martial, which
pronounced his conduct every thing that was to be expected from an
active, brave, and vigilant officer; whatever blame there was in the
matter fell upon his second in command, who, by delay, or
misapprehension of orders, and an unskilful position of his troops, had
exposed them to be massacred.
On the 21st, Sir William Howe made a rapid march high up the Schuylkill,
on the road leading to Reading, as if he intended either to capture the
military stores deposited there, or to turn the right of the American
army. Washington kept pace with him on the opposite side of the river,
up to Pott’s Grove, about thirty miles from Philadelphia.
The movement on the part of Howe was a mere feint. No sooner had he
drawn Washington so far up the river, than, by a rapid countermarch on
the night of the 22d, he got to the ford below, threw his troops across
on the next morning, and pushed forward for Philadelphia. By the time
Washington was apprised of this counter movement, Howe was too far on
his way to be overtaken by harassed, barefooted troops, worn out by
constant marching. Feeling the necessity of immediate reinforcements, he
wrote on the same day to Putnam at Peekskill: “The situation of our
affairs in this quarter calls for every aid and for every effort. I
therefore desire that, without a moment’s loss of time, you will detach
as many effective rank and file, under proper generals and officers, as
will make the whole number, including those with General McDougall,
amount to twenty-five hundred privates and non-commissioned fit for
duty.
“I must urge you, by every motive, to send this detachment without the
least possible delay. No considerations are to prevent it. It is our
first object to defeat, if possible, the army now opposed to us here.”
On the next day (24th) he wrote also to General Gates, “This army has
not been able to oppose General Howe’s with the success that was wished,
and needs a reinforcement. I therefore request, if you have been so
fortunate as to oblige General Burgoyne to retreat to Ticonderoga, or if
you have not, and circumstances will admit, that you will order Colonel
Morgan to join me again with his corps. I sent him up when I thought you
materially wanted him; and, if his services can be dispensed with now,
you will direct his immediate return.”
Having called a council of officers and taken their opinions, which
concurred with his own, Washington determined to remain some days at
Pott’s Grove, to give repose to his troops, and await the arrival of
reinforcements.
Sir William Howe halted at Germantown, within a short distance of
Philadelphia, and encamped the main body of his army in and about that
village; detaching Lord Cornwallis with a large force and a number of
officers of distinction, to take formal possession of the city. That
general marched into Philadelphia on the 26th, with a brilliant staff
and escort, and followed by splendid legions of British and Hessian
grenadiers, long trains of artillery and squadrons of light-dragoons,
the finest troops in the army all in their best array; stepping to the
swelling music of the band playing God save the King, and presenting
with their scarlet uniforms, their glittering arms and flaunting
feathers, a striking contrast to the poor patriot troops, who had
recently passed through the same streets, weary and way-worn, and happy
if they could cover their raggedness with a brown linen hunting-frock,
and decorate their caps with a sprig of evergreen.
In this way the British took possession of the city, so long the object
of their awkward attempts, and regarded by them as a triumphant
acquisition; having been the seat of the general government; the capital
of the confederacy. Washington maintained his characteristic equanimity.
“This is an event,” writes he to Governor Trumbull, “which we have
reason to wish had not happened, and which will be attended with several
ill consequences; but I hope it will not be so detrimental as many
apprehend, and that a little time and perseverance will give us some
favorable opportunity of recovering our loss, and of putting our affairs
in a more flourishing condition.”
He had heard of the prosperous situation of affairs in the Northern
Department, and the repeated checks given to the enemy. “I flatter
myself,” writes he, “we shall soon hear that they have been succeeded by
other fortunate and interesting events, as the two armies, by General
Gates’s letter, were encamped near each other.”
We will now revert to the course of the campaign in that quarter, the
success of which he trusted would have a beneficial influence on the
operations in which he was personally engaged. Indeed the operations in
the Northern Department formed, as we have shown, but a part of his
general scheme, and were constantly present to his thoughts. His
generals had each his own individual enterprise, or his own department
to think about; Washington had to think for the whole.