CHAPTER XXI.

PREPARATIONS OF SIR HENRY CLINTON—STATE OF THE HIGHLAND

DEFENCES—PUTNAM ALARMED—ADVANCE OF THE ARMAMENT UP THE HUDSON—PLAN

OF SIR HENRY CLINTON—PEEKSKILL THREATENED—PUTNAM DECEIVED—SECRET

MARCH OF THE ENEMY THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS—FORTS MONTGOMERY AND

CLINTON OVERPOWERED—NARROW ESCAPE OF THE COMMANDERS—CONFLAGRATION

AND EXPLOSION OF THE AMERICAN FRIGATES—RALLYING EFFORTS OF PUTNAM

AND GOVERNOR CLINTON—THE SPY AND THE SILVER BULLET—ESOPUS

BURNT—RAVAGING PROGRESS OF THE ENEMY UP THE HUDSON.

The expedition of Sir Henry Clinton had awaited the arrival of

reinforcements from Europe, which were slowly crossing the ocean in

Dutch bottoms. At length they arrived, after a three months’ voyage, and

now there was a stir of warlike preparation at New York; the streets

were full of soldiery, the bay full of ships; and water craft of all

kinds were plying about the harbor. Between three and four thousand men

were to be embarked on board of ships of war, armed galleys and

flat-bottomed boats. A southern destination was given out, but shrewd

observers surmised the real one.

The defences of the Highlands, on which the security of the Hudson

depended, were at this time weakly garrisoned; some of the troops having

been sent off to reinforce the armies on the Delaware and in the North.

Putnam, who had the general command of the Highlands, had but eleven

hundred continental and four hundred militia troops with him at

Peekskill, his head-quarters. There was a feeble garrison at Fort

Independence, in the vicinity of Peekskill, to guard the public stores

and workshops at Continental Village.

The Highland forts, Clinton, Montgomery, and Constitution, situated

among the mountains and forming their main defence, were no better

garrisoned, and George Clinton, who had the command of them, and who was

in a manner the champion of the Highlands, was absent from his post,

attending the State Legislature at Kingston (Esopus), in Ulster County,

in his capacity of governor.

There were patriot eyes in New York to watch the course of events, and

patriot boats on the river to act as swift messengers. On the 29th of

September Putnam writes to his coadjutor the governor: “I have received

intelligence on which I can fully depend, that the enemy had received a

reinforcement at New York last Thursday, of about three thousand British

and foreign troops; that General Clinton has called in guides who belong

about Croton River; has ordered hard bread to be baked; that the troops

are called from Paulus Hook to King’s Bridge, and the whole troops are

now under marching orders. I think it highly probable the designs of the

enemy are against the posts of the Highlands, or of some part of the

counties of Westchester or Dutchess.” Under these circumstances he

begged a reinforcement of the militia to enable him to maintain his

post, and intimated a wish for the personal assistance and counsel of

the governor. In a postscript, he adds: “The ships are drawn up in the

river, and I believe nothing prevents them from paying us an immediate

visit, but a contrary wind.”

On receiving this letter the governor forthwith hastened to his post in

the Highlands, with such militia force as he could collect. We have

heretofore spoken of his Highland citadel Fort Montgomery, and of the

obstructions of chain, boom, and chevaux-de-frise between it and the

opposite promontory of Anthony’s Nose, with which it had been hoped to

barricade the Hudson. The chain had repeatedly given way under the

pressure of the tide, but the obstructions were still considered

efficient, and were protected by the guns of the fort, and of two

frigates and two armed galleys anchored above.

Fort Clinton had subsequently been erected within rifle shot of Fort

Montgomery, to occupy ground which commanded it. A deep ravine and

stream called Peploep’s Kill, intervened between the two forts, across

which there was a bridge. The governor had his head-quarters in Fort

Montgomery, which was the northern and largest fort, but its works were

unfinished. His brother James had charge of Fort Clinton, which was

complete. The whole force to garrison the associate forts did not exceed

six hundred men, chiefly militia, but they had the veteran Colonel Lamb

of the artillery with them, who had served in Canada, and a company of

his artillerists was distributed in the two forts.

The armament of Sir Henry Clinton, which had been waiting for a wind,

set sail in the course of a day or two and stood up the Hudson, dogged

by American swift-rowing whale-boats. Late at night of the 4th of

October came a barge across the river from Peekskill to Fort Montgomery,

bearing a letter from Putnam to the governor. “This morning,” writes he,

“we had information from our guard boats, that there were two ships of

war, three tenders, and a large number of flat-bottomed boats, coming up

the river. They proceeded up as far as Tarrytown, where they landed

their men. This evening they were followed by one large man-of-war, five

topsail vessels, and a large number of small craft. I have sent off

parties to examine their route and harass their march, if prudent. By

information from several different quarters, we have reason to believe

they intend for this post. They are now making up, as we hear, for the

Croton Bridge.”[75]

The landing of troops at Tarrytown was a mere feint on the part of Sir

Henry to distract the attention of the Americans; after marching a few

miles into the country, they returned and re-embarked; the armament

continued across the Tappan Sea and Haverstraw Bay to Verplanck’s Point,

where, on the 5th, Sir Henry landed with three thousand men about eight

miles below Peekskill.

Putnam drew back to the hills in the rear of the village, to prepare for

the expected attack, and sent off to Governor Clinton for all the troops

he could spare. So far the manœuvres of Sir Henry Clinton had been

successful. It was his plan to threaten an attack on Peekskill and Fort

Independence, and, when he had drawn the attention of the American

commanders to that quarter, to land troops on the western shore of the

Hudson, below the Dunderberg (Thunder Hill), make a rapid march through

the defiles behind that mountain to the rear of Forts Montgomery and

Clinton, come down on them by surprise, and carry them by a _coup de

main_.

Accordingly at an early hour of the following morning, taking advantage

of a thick fog, he crossed with two thousand men to Stony Point, on the

west shore of the river, leaving about a thousand men, chiefly

royalists, at Verplanck’s Point, to keep up a threatening aspect towards

Peekskill. Three frigates, also, were to stand up what is called the

Devil’s Horse Race into Peekskill Bay, and station themselves within

cannon shot of Fort Independence.

The crossing of the troops had been dimly descried from Peekskill, but

they were supposed to be a mere detachment from the main body on a

maraud.

Having accomplished his landing, Sir Henry, conducted by a tory guide,

set out on a forced and circuitous march of several miles by rugged

defiles, round the western base of the Dunderberg. At the entrance of

the pass he left a small force to guard it, and keep up his

communication with the ships. By eight o’clock in the morning he had

effected his march round the Dunderberg, and halted on the northern side

in a ravine, between it and a conical mount called Bear Hill. The

possibility of an enemy’s approach by this pass had been noticed by

Washington in reconnoitring the Highlands, and he had mentioned it in

his instructions to Generals Greene and Knox, when they were sent to

make their military survey, but they considered it impracticable, from

the extreme difficulty of the mountain passes. It is in defiance of

difficulties, however, that surprises are apt to be attempted, and the

most signal have been achieved in the face of seeming impossibilities.

In the ravine between the Dunderberg and Bear Hill, Sir Henry divided

his forces. One division, nine hundred strong, led by Lieutenant-colonel

Campbell, was to make a circuit through the forest round the western

side of Bear Hill, so as to gain the rear of Fort Montgomery. After Sir

Henry had allowed sufficient time for them to make the circuit, he was

to proceed with the other division down the ravine, towards the river,

turn to the left along a narrow strip of land between the Hudson and a

small lake called Sinipink Pond, which lay at the foot of Bear Hill, and

advance upon Fort Clinton. Both forts were to be attacked at the same

time.

The detachment under Campbell set off in high spirits; it was composed

partly of royalists, led by Colonel Beverly Robinson of New York, partly

of Emerick’s chasseurs, and partly of grenadiers, under Lord Rawdon,

then about twenty-four years of age, who had already seen service at

Bunker’s Hill. With him went Count Gabrouski, a Polish nobleman,

aide-de-camp to Sir Henry Clinton, but who had sought to accompany his

friend, Lord Rawdon, in this wild mountain scramble. Every thing thus

far had been conducted with celerity and apparent secrecy, and complete

surprise of both forts was anticipated. Sir Henry had, indeed, outwitted

one of the guardians of the Highlands, but the other was aware of his

designs. Governor Clinton, on receiving intelligence of ships of war

coming up the Hudson, had sent scouts beyond the Dunderberg to watch

their movements. Early on the present morning, word had been brought him

that forty boats were landing a large force at Stony Point. He now, in

his turn, apprehended an attack, and sent to Putnam for reinforcements,

preparing, in the mean time, to make such defence as his scanty means

afforded.

A lieutenant was sent out with thirty men from Fort Clinton, to proceed

along the river-road and reconnoitre. He fell in with the advance guard

of Sir Henry Clinton’s division, and retreated skirmishing to the fort.

A larger detachment was sent out to check the approach of the enemy on

this side; while sixty men, afterwards increased to a hundred, took post

with a brass field-piece in the Bear Hill defile.

It was a narrow and rugged pass, bordered by shagged forests. As

Campbell and his division came pressing forward, they were checked by

the discharge of fire-arms and of the brass field-piece, which swept the

steep defile. The British troops then filed off on each side into the

woods, to surround the Americans. The latter, finding it impossible to

extricate their field-piece in the rugged pass, spiked it, and retreated

into the fort, under cover of the fire of a twelve-pounder, with which

Lamb had posted himself on the crest of a hill.

Sir Henry Clinton had met with equally obstinate opposition in his

approach to Fort Clinton; the narrow strip of land between Lake Sinipink

and the Hudson, along which he advanced, being fortified by an abatis.

By four o’clock the Americans were driven within their works, and both

forts were assailed. The defence was desperate; for Governor Clinton was

a hard fighter, and he was still in hopes of reinforcements from Putnam;

not knowing that the messenger he sent to him had turned traitor, and

deserted to the enemy.

About five o’clock, he was summoned to surrender in five minutes, to

prevent the effusion of blood: the reply was a refusal. About ten

minutes afterwards, there was a general attack upon both forts. It was

resisted with obstinate spirit. The action continued until dusk. The

ships under Commodore Hotham approached near enough to open an irregular

fire upon the forts, and upon the vessels anchored above the

chevaux-de-frise. The latter returned the fire; and the flash and roar

of their cannonry in the gathering darkness and among the echoes of the

mountains increased the terrors of the strife. The works, however, were

too extensive to be manned by the scanty garrisons; they were entered by

different places and carried at the point of the bayonet; the Americans

fought desperately from one redoubt to another; some were slain, some

taken prisoners, and some escaped under cover of the night to the river

or the mountains. “The garrison,” writes Clinton, significantly, “had to

fight their way out as many as could, as we determined not to

surrender.”

His brother James was saved from a deadly thrust of a bayonet, by a

garrison orderly book in his pocket; but he received a flesh-wound in

the thigh. He slid down a precipice, one hundred feet high, into the

ravine between the forts, and escaped to the woods. The governor leaped

down the rocks to the river side, where a boat was putting off with a

number of the fugitives. They turned back to receive him, but he

generously refused to endanger their safety, as the boat was already

loaded to the gunwale. It was only on receiving assurance of its being

capable of bearing his additional weight, that he consented to enter.

The boat crossed the Hudson in safety, and before midnight the governor

was with Putnam, at Continental Village, concerting further measures.

Putnam had been completely outmanœuvred by Sir Henry Clinton. He had

continued until late in the morning, in the belief that Peekskill and

Fort Independence were to be the objects of attack. His pickets and

scouts could not ascertain the number of the enemy remaining on the east

side of the river; a large fire near Stony Point made him think the

troops which had crossed were merely burning storehouses; while ships,

galleys, and flat-bottomed boats seemed preparing to land forces at Fort

Independence and Peekskill. In the course of the morning he sallied

forth with Brigadier-general Parsons, to reconnoitre the ground near the

enemy. After their return they were alarmed, he says, by “a very heavy

and hot firing both of small-arms and cannon, at Fort Montgomery,” which

must have made a tremendous uproar among the echoes of the Dunderberg.

Aware of the real point of danger, he immediately detached five hundred

men to reinforce the garrison. They had six miles to march along the

eastern shore, and then to cross the river; before they could do so the

fate of the forts was decided.

British historians acknowledge, that the valor and resolution displayed

by the Americans in the defence of these forts were in no instance

exceeded during the war; their loss in killed, wounded and missing, was

stated at two hundred and fifty, a large proportion of the number

engaged. Their gallant defence awakened no generous sentiment in the

victors. “As the soldiers,” observes the British writer, “were much

irritated, as well by the fatigue they had undergone and the opposition

they met, as by the loss of some brave and favorite officers, the

slaughter of the enemy was considerable.”[76]

Among the officers thus deplored, and bloodily revenged, was Colonel

Campbell, who commanded the detachment. At his fall the command devolved

on Colonel Beverly Robinson of the American loyalists. Another officer

slain was Major Grant, of the New York volunteers. Count Gabrouski, the

Polish aide-de-camp of Sir Henry Clinton, had gallantly signalized

himself by the side of his friend, Lord Rawdon, who led the grenadiers

in storming Fort Montgomery. The count received his death wound at the

foot of the ramparts. Giving his sword to a grenadier: “Take this sword

to Lord Rawdon,” said he, “and tell him the owner died like a

soldier.”[77]

On the capture of the forts, the American frigates and galleys stationed

for the protection of the chevaux-de-frise slipped their cables, made

all sail, and endeavored to escape up the river. The wind, however,

proved adverse; there was danger of their falling into the hands of the

enemy; the crews, therefore, set them on fire and abandoned them. As

every sail was set, the vessels, we are told, were soon “magnificent

pyramids of fire;” the surrounding mountains were lit up by the glare,

and a train of ruddy light gleamed along the river. They were in a part

of the Highlands famous for its echoes: as the flames gradually reached

the loaded cannon, their thundering reports were multiplied and

prolonged along the rocky shores. The vessels at length blew up with

tremendous explosions, and all again was darkness.[78]

On the following morning, the chevaux-de-frise and other obstructions

between Fort Montgomery and Anthony’s Nose were cleared away: the

Americans evacuated Forts Independence and Constitution, and a free

passage up the Hudson was open for the British ships. Sir Henry Clinton

proceeded no further in person, but left the rest of the enterprise to

be accomplished by Sir James Wallace and General Vaughan, with a flying

squadron of light frigates, and a considerable detachment of troops.

Putnam had retreated to a pass in the mountains, on the east side of the

river, near Fishkill, having removed as much of the stores and baggage

as possible from the post he had abandoned. The old general was somewhat

mortified at having been outwitted by the enemy, but endeavored to shift

the responsibility. In a letter to Washington (Oct. 8th), he writes: “I

have repeatedly informed your Excellency of the enemy’s design against

this post; but, from some motive or other, you always differed from me

in opinion. As this conjecture of mine has for once proved right, I

cannot omit informing you, that my real and sincere opinion is, that

they now mean to join General Burgoyne with the utmost despatch.

Governor Clinton is exerting himself in collecting the militia of this

State. Brigadier-general Parsons I have sent off to forward in the

Connecticut militia, which are now arriving in great numbers. I

therefore hope and trust, that, in the course of a few days, I shall be

able to oppose the progress of the enemy.”

He had concerted with Governor Clinton that they should move to the

northward with their forces, along the opposite shores of the Hudson,

endeavoring to keep pace with the enemy’s ships and cover the country

from their attacks.

The governor was in the neighborhood of New Windsor, just above the

Highlands, where he had posted himself to rally what he termed his

“broken but brave troops,” and to call out the militia of Ulster and

Orange. “I am persuaded,” writes he, “if the militia will join me, we

can save the country from destruction, and defeat the enemy’s design of

assisting their Northern army.” The militia, however, were not as prompt

as usual in answering to the call of their popular and brave-hearted

governor. “They are well disposed,” writes he, “but anxious about the

immediate safety of their respective families (who, for many miles, are

yet moving further from the river); they come in the morning and return

in the evening, and I never know when I have them, or what my strength

is.”[79]

On the 9th, two persons coming from Fort Montgomery were arrested by his

guards, and brought before him for examination. One was much agitated,

and was observed to put something hastily into his mouth and swallow it.

An emetic was administered, and brought up a small silver bullet. Before

he could be prevented he swallowed it again. On his refusing a second

emetic, the governor threatened to have him hanged and his body opened.

The threat produced the bullet in the preceding manner. It was oval in

form and hollow, with a screw in the centre, and contained a note from

Sir Henry Clinton to Burgoyne, written on a slip of thin paper, and

dated (Oct. 8th) from Fort Montgomery. “_Nous y voici_ (here we are),

and nothing between us and Gates. I sincerely hope this little success

of ours will facilitate your operations.”[80]

The bearer of the letter was tried and convicted as a spy, and sentenced

to be hanged.

The enemy’s light-armed vessels were now making their way up the river;

landing marauding parties occasionally to make depredations.

As soon as the governor could collect a little force, he pressed forward

to protect Kingston (Esopus), the seat of the State legislature. The

enemy in the mean time landed from their ships, routed about one hundred

and fifty militia collected to oppose them, marched to the village, set

fire to it in every part, consuming great quantities of stores collected

there, and then retreated to their ships.

Governor Clinton was two hours too late. He beheld the flames from a

distance; and having brought with him the spy, the bearer of the silver

bullet, he hanged him on an apple-tree in sight of the burning village.

Having laid Kingston, the seat of the State government, in ashes, the

enemy proceeded in their ravages, destroying the residences of

conspicuous patriots at Rhinebeck, Livingston Manor, and elsewhere, and

among others the mansion of the widow of the brave General Montgomery:

trusting to close their desolating career by a triumphant junction with

Burgoyne at Albany.

Life of George Washington, volume 3 of 5 · 第 21 / 40 章