WASHINGTON ADVANCES TO SKIPPACK CREEK—THE BRITISH FLEET IN THE
DELAWARE—FORTS AND OBSTRUCTIONS IN THE RIVER—WASHINGTON MEDITATES AN
ATTACK ON THE BRITISH CAMP—BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN.
Having given the catastrophe of the British invasion from the North, we
will revert to that part of the year’s campaign which was passing under
the immediate eye of Washington. We left him encamped at Pott’s Grove
towards the end of September, giving his troops a few days’ repose after
their severe fatigues. Being rejoined by Wayne and Smallwood with their
brigades, and other troops being arrived from the Jerseys, his force
amounted to about eight thousand Continentals and three thousand
militia; with these he advanced, on the 30th of September, to Skippack
Creek, about fourteen miles from Germantown, where the main body of the
British army lay encamped; a detachment under Cornwallis occupying
Philadelphia.
Immediately after the battle of Brandywine, Admiral Lord Howe with great
exertions had succeeded in getting his ships of war and transports round
from the Chesapeake into the Delaware, and had anchored them along the
western shore from Reedy Island to Newcastle. They were prevented from
approaching nearer by obstructions which the Americans had placed in the
river. The lowest of these were at Billingsport (or Bylling’s Point),
where chevaux-de-frise in the channel of the river were protected by a
strong redoubt on the Jersey shore. Higher up were Fort Mifflin on Mud
(or Fort) Island, and Fort Mercer on the Jersey shore; with
chevaux-de-frise between them. Washington had exerted himself to throw a
garrison into Fort Mifflin, and keep up the obstructions of the river.
“If these can be maintained,” said he, “General Howe’s situation will
not be the most agreeable; for if his supplies can be stopped by water,
it may easily be done by land. To do both shall be my utmost endeavor;
and I am not without hope that the acquisition of Philadelphia may,
instead of his good fortune, prove his ruin.”[90]
Sir William Howe was perfectly aware of this, and had concerted
operations with his brother by land and water, to reduce the forts and
clear away the obstructions of the river. With this view he detached a
part of his force into the Jerseys, to proceed, in the first instance,
against the fortifications at Billingsport.
Washington had been for some days anxiously on the look-out for some
opportunity to strike a blow of consequence, when two intercepted
letters gave him intelligence of this movement. He immediately
determined to make an attack upon the British camp at Germantown, while
weakened by the absence of this detachment. To understand the plan of
the attack, some description of the British place of encampment is
necessary.
Germantown, at that time, was little more than one continued street,
extending two miles north and south. The houses were mostly of stone,
low and substantial, with steep roofs and protecting eaves. They stood
apart from each other, with fruit trees in front and small gardens.
Beyond the village, and about a hundred yards east of the road, stood a
spacious stone edifice, with ornamented grounds, statues, groves and
shrubbery, the country-seat of Benjamin Chew, chief justice of
Pennsylvania previous to the Revolution: we shall have more to say
concerning this mansion presently.
Four roads approached the village from above; that is, from the north.
The Skippack, which was the main road, led over Chestnut Hil and Mount
Airy down to and through the village toward Philadelphia, forming the
street of which we have just spoken. On its right, and nearly parallel,
was the Monatawny or Ridge road, passing near the Schuylkill, and
entering the main road below the village.
On the left of the Skippack or main road, was the Limekiln road, running
nearly parallel to it for a time, and then turning towards it, almost at
right angles, so as to enter the village at the market-place. Still
further to the left or east, and outside of all, was the Old York road,
falling into the main road some distance below the village.
The main body of the British forces lay encamped across the lower part
of the village, divided into almost equal parts by the main street or
Skippack road. The right wing, commanded by General Grant, was to the
east of the road, the left wing to the west. Each wing was covered by
strong detachments, and guarded by cavalry. General Howe had his
head-quarters in the rear.
The advance of the army, composed of the 2d battalion of British
light-infantry, with a train of artillery, was more than two miles from
the main body, on the west of the road, with an outlying picket
stationed with two six-pounders at Allen’s house on Mount Airy. About
three quarters of a mile in the rear of the light-infantry, lay encamped
in a field opposite “Chew’s House,” the 40th regiment of infantry, under
Colonel Musgrave.
According to Washington’s plan for the attack, Sullivan was to command
the right wing, composed of his own division, principally Maryland
troops, and the division of General Wayne. He was to be sustained by a
_corps de reserve_, under Lord Stirling, composed of Nash’s North
Carolina and Maxwell’s Virginia brigades, and to be flanked by the
brigade of General Conway. He was to march down the Skippack road and
attack the left wing; at the same time General Armstrong, with the
Pennsylvania militia, was to pass down the Monatawny or Ridge road, and
get upon the enemy’s left and rear.
Greene with the left wing, composed of his own division and the division
of General Stephen, and flanked by McDougall’s brigade, was to march
down the Limekiln road, so as to enter the village at the market-house.
The two divisions were to attack the enemy’s right wing in front,
McDougall with his brigade to attack it in flank, while Smallwood’s
division of Maryland militia and Forman’s Jersey brigade, making a
circuit by the Old York road, were to attack it in the rear. Two thirds
of the forces were thus directed against the enemy’s right wing, under
the idea that, if it could be forced, the whole army must be pushed into
the Schuylkill, or compelled to surrender. The attack was to begin on
all quarters at daybreak.[91]
About dusk, on the 3d of October, the army left its encampment at
Matuchen Hills, by its different routes. Washington accompanied the
right wing. It had fifteen miles of weary march to make over rough
roads, so that it was after daybreak when the troops emerged from the
woods on Chestnut Hill. The morning was dark with a heavy fog. A
detachment advanced to attack the enemy’s out picket, stationed at
Allen’s House. The patrol was led by Captain Allen McLane, a brave
Maryland officer, well acquainted with the ground, and with the position
of the enemy. He fell in with double sentries, whom he killed with the
loss of one man. The alarm, however, was given; the distant roll of a
drum and the call to arms, resounded through the murky air. The picket
guard, after discharging their two six-pounders, were routed, and
retreated down the south side of Mount Airy to the battalion of
light-infantry who were forming in order of battle. As their pursuers
descended into the valley, the sun rose, but was soon obscured. Wayne
led the attack upon the light-infantry. “They broke at first,” writes
he, “without waiting to receive us, but soon formed again, when a heavy
and well-directed fire took place on both sides.”
They again gave way, but being supported by the grenadiers, returned to
the charge. Sullivan’s division and Conway’s brigade formed on the west
of the road, and joined in the attack; the rest of the troops were too
far to the north to render any assistance. The infantry, after fighting
bravely for a time, broke and ran, leaving their artillery behind. They
were hotly pursued by Wayne. His troops remembered the bloody 20th of
September, and the ruthless slaughter of their comrades. “They pushed on
with the bayonet,” says Wayne, “and took ample vengeance for that
night’s work.” The officers endeavored to restrain their fury towards
those who cried for mercy, but to little purpose. It was a terrible
melée. The fog, together with the smoke of the cannonry and musketry,
made it almost as dark as night: our people mistaking one another for
the enemy, frequently exchanged shots before they discovered their
error. The whole of the enemy’s advance were driven from their camping
ground, leaving their tents standing, with all their baggage. Colonel
Musgrave, with six companies of the 40th regiment, threw himself into
Chew’s House, barricaded the doors and lower windows, and took post
above stairs; the main torrent of the retreat passed by pursued by Wayne
into the village.
As the residue of this division of the army came up to join in the
pursuit, Musgrave and his men opened a fire of musketry upon them from
the upper windows of his citadel. This brought them to a halt. Some of
the officers were for pushing on; but General Knox stoutly objected,
insisting on the old military maxim, never to leave a garrisoned castle
in the rear.
His objection unluckily prevailed. A flag was sent with a summons to
surrender. A young Virginian, Lieutenant Smith, volunteered to be the
bearer. As he was advancing, he was fired upon and received a mortal
wound. The house was now cannonaded, but the artillery was too light to
have the desired effect. An attempt was made to set fire to the
basement. He who attempted it was shot dead from a grated cellar window.
Half an hour was thus spent in vain; scarce any of the defenders of the
house were injured, though many of the assailants were slain. At length
a regiment was left to keep guard upon the mansion and hold its garrison
in check, and the rear division again pressed forward.
This half hour’s delay, however, of nearly one half of the army,
disconcerted the action. The divisions and brigades thus separated from
each other by the skirmishing attack upon Chew’s House, could not be
reunited. The fog and smoke rendered all objects indistinct at thirty
yards’ distance; the different parts of the army knew nothing of the
position or movements of each other, and the commander-in-chief could
take no view nor gain any information of the situation of the whole. The
original plan of attack was only effectively carried into operation in
the centre. The flanks and rear of the enemy were nearly unmolested;
still the action, though disconnected, irregular and partial, was
animated in various quarters. Sullivan, being reinforced by Nash’s North
Carolina troops and Conway’s brigade, pushed on a mile beyond Chew’s
House, where the left wing of the enemy gave way before him.
Greene and Stephen, with their divisions, having had to make a circuit,
were late in coming into action, and became separated from each other,
part of Stephen’s division being arrested by a heavy fire from Chew’s
House and pausing to return it: Greene, however, with his division,
comprising the brigades of Muhlenberg and Scott, pressed rapidly
forward, drove an advance regiment of light-infantry before him, took a
number of prisoners, and made his way quite to the market-house in the
centre of the village, where he encountered the right wing of the
British drawn up to receive him. The impetuosity of his attack had an
evident effect upon the enemy, who began to waver. Forman and Smallwood,
with the Jersey and Maryland militia, were just showing themselves on
the right flank of the enemy, and our troops seemed on the point of
carrying the whole encampment. At this moment a singular panic seized
our army. Various causes are assigned for it. Sullivan alleges that his
troops had expended all their cartridges, and were alarmed by seeing the
enemy gathering on their left, and by the cry of a light-horseman, that
the enemy were getting round them. Wayne’s division, which had pushed
the enemy nearly three miles, was alarmed by the approach of a large
body of American troops on its left flank, which it mistook for foes,
and fell back in defiance of every effort of its officers to rally it.
In its retreat it came upon Stephen’s division and threw it into a
panic, being, in its turn, mistaken for the enemy; thus all fell into
confusion, and our army fled from their own victory.
In the mean time, the enemy, having recovered from the first effects of
the surprise, advanced in their turn. General Grey brought up the left
wing, and pressed upon the American troops as they receded. Lord
Cornwallis, with a squadron of light-horse from Philadelphia, arrived
just in time to join in the pursuit.
The retreat of the Americans was attended with less loss than might have
been expected, and they carried off all their cannon and wounded. This
was partly owing to the good generalship of Greene, in keeping up a
retreating fight with the enemy for nearly five miles; and partly to a
check given by Wayne, who turned his cannon upon the enemy from an
eminence, near White Marsh Church, and brought them to a stand. The
retreat continued through the day to Perkiomen Creek, a distance of
twenty miles.
The loss of the enemy in this action is stated by them to be seventy-one
killed, four hundred and fifteen wounded, and fourteen missing: among
the killed was Brigadier-general Agnew. The American loss was one
hundred and fifty killed, five hundred and twenty-one wounded, and about
four hundred taken prisoners. Among the killed was General Nash of North
Carolina. Among the prisoners was Colonel Mathews of Virginia, who
commanded a Virginia regiment in the left wing. Most of his officers and
men were killed or wounded in fighting bravely near the market-house,
and he himself received several bayonet wounds.
Speaking of Washington’s conduct amidst the perplexities of this
confused battle, General Sullivan writes, “I saw, with great concern,
our brave commander-in-chief exposing himself to the hottest fire of the
enemy, in such a manner, that regard for my country obliged me to ride
to him, and beg him to retire. He, to gratify me and some others,
withdrew to a small distance, but his anxiety for the fate of the day
soon brought him up again, where he remained till our troops had
retreated.”
The sudden retreat of the army gave him surprise, chagrin and
mortification. “Every account,” said he, subsequently, in a letter to
the President of Congress, “confirms the opinion I at first entertained,
that our troops retreated at the instant when victory was declaring
herself in our favor. The tumult, disorder, and even despair, which, it
seems, had taken place in the British army, were scarcely to be
paralleled; and it is said, so strongly did the ideas of a retreat
prevail, that Chester was fixed on for their rendezvous. I can discover
no other cause for not improving this happy opportunity, than the
extreme haziness of the weather.”
So also Captain Heth of Virginia, who was in the action: “What makes
this inglorious flight more grating to us is, that we know the enemy had
orders to retreat, and rendezvous at Chester; and that upwards of two
thousand Hessians had actually crossed the Schuylkill for that purpose;
that the tories were in the utmost distress, and moving out of the city;
that our friends confined in the new jail made it ring with shouts of
joy; that we passed, in pursuing them, upwards of twenty pieces of
cannon, their tents standing filled with their choicest baggage; in
fine, every thing was as we could wish, when the above flight took
place.”[92]
No one was more annoyed than Wayne. “Fortune smiled on us for full three
hours,” writes he; “the enemy were broke, dispersed, and flying in all
quarters—we were in possession of their whole encampment, together with
their artillery, park, &c. &c. A _wind-mill_ attack was made upon a
house into which six light companies had thrown themselves, to avoid our
bayonets. Our troops were deceived by this attack, thinking it something
formidable. They fell back to assist,—the enemy believing it to be a
retreat, followed,—confusion ensued, and we ran away from the arms of
victory open to receive us.”
In fact, as has justly been observed by an experienced officer, the plan
of attack was too widely extended for strict concert, and too
complicated for precise co-operation, as it had to be conducted in the
night, and with a large proportion of undisciplined militia; and yet, a
bewildering fog alone appears to have prevented its complete success.
But although the Americans were balked of the victory, which seemed
within their grasp, the impression made by the audacity of this attempt
upon Germantown, was greater, we are told, than that caused by any
single incident of the war after Lexington and Bunker’s Hill.[93]
A British military historian, a contemporary, observes: “In this action
the Americans acted upon the offensive; and though repulsed with loss,
showed themselves a formidable adversary, capable of charging with
resolution and retreating with good order. The hope, therefore,
entertained from the effect of any action with them as decisive, and
likely to put a speedy termination to the war, was exceedingly
abated.”[94]
The battle had its effect also in France. The Count De Vergennes
observed to the American commissioners in Paris on their first
interview, that nothing struck him so much as General Washington’s
attacking and giving battle to General Howe’s army; that to bring an
army raised within a year to this pass promised every thing.
The effect on the army itself may be judged from letters written at the
time by officers to their friends. “Though we gave away a complete
victory,” writes one, “we have learnt this valuable truth, that we are
able to beat them by vigorous exertion, and that we are far superior in
point of swiftness. We are in high spirits; every action gives our
troops fresh vigor, and a greater opinion of their own strength. Another
bout or two must make the situation of the enemy very disagreeable.”[95]
Another writes to his father: “For my own part, I am so fully convinced
of the justice of the cause in which we are contending, and that
Providence, in its own good time, will succeed and bless it, that, were
I to see twelve of the United States overrun by our cruel invaders, I
should still believe the thirteenth would not only save itself, but also
work out the deliverance of the others.”[96]