CHAPTER XXVI.

FURTHER HOSTILITIES ON THE DELAWARE—FORT MIFFLIN ATTACKED—BRAVELY

DEFENDED—REDUCED—MISSION OF HAMILTON TO GATES—VISITS THE CAMPS OF

GOVERNOR CLINTON AND PUTNAM ON THE HUDSON—PUTNAM ON HIS

HOBBY-HORSE—DIFFICULTIES IN PROCURING REINFORCEMENTS—INTRIGUES OF

THE CABAL—LETTERS OF LOVELL AND MIFFLIN TO GATES—THE WORKS AT RED

BANK DESTROYED—THE ENEMY IN POSSESSION OF THE DELAWARE.

The non-arrival of reinforcements from the Northern army continued to

embarrass Washington’s operations. The enemy were making preparations

for further attempts upon Forts Mercer and Mifflin. General Howe was

constructing redoubts and batteries on Province Island, on the west side

of the Delaware, within five hundred yards of Fort Mifflin, and mounting

them with heavy cannon. Washington consulted with his general officers

what was to be done. Had the army received the expected reinforcements

from the North, it might have detached sufficient force to the west side

of the Schuylkill to dislodge the enemy from Province Island; but at

present it would require almost the whole of the army for the purpose.

This would leave the public stores at Easton, Bethlehem and Allentown,

uncovered, as well as several of the hospitals. It would also leave the

post at Red Bank unsupported, through which Fort Mifflin was reinforced

and supplied. It was determined, therefore, to await the arrival of the

expected reinforcements from the North, before making any alteration in

the disposition of the army. In the mean time, the garrisons of Forts

Mercer and Mifflin were increased, and General Varnum was stationed at

Red Bank with his brigade, to be at hand to render reinforcements to

either of them as occasion might require.

On the 10th of November, General Howe commenced a heavy fire upon Fort

Mifflin from his batteries, which mounted eighteen, twenty-four, and

thirty-two pounders. Colonel Smith doubted the competency of his feeble

garrison to defend the works against a force so terribly effective, and

wrote to Washington accordingly. The latter in reply represented the

great importance of the works, and trusted they would be maintained to

the last extremity. General Varnum was instructed to send over fresh

troops occasionally to relieve those in the garrison, and to prevail

upon as many as possible of the militia to go over. The latter could be

employed at night upon the works to repair the damage sustained in the

day, and might, if they desired it, return to Red Bank in the morning.

Washington’s orders and instructions were faithfully obeyed. Major

Fleury, a brave French officer, already mentioned, acquitted himself

with intelligence and spirit as engineer; but an incessant cannonade and

bombardment for several days, defied all repairs. The block-houses were

demolished, the palisades beaten down, the guns dismounted, the barracks

reduced to ruins. Captain Treat, a young officer of great merit, who

commanded the artillery, was killed, as were several non-commissioned

officers and privates; and a number were wounded.

The survivors, who were not wounded, were exhausted by want of sleep,

hard duty, and constant exposure to the rain. Colonel Smith himself was

disabled by severe contusions, and obliged to retire to Red Bank.

The fort was in ruins; there was danger of its being carried by storm,

but the gallant Fleury thought it might yet be defended with the aid of

fresh troops. Such were furnished from Varnum’s brigade:

Lieutenant-colonel Russell, of the Connecticut line, replaced Colonel

Smith. He, in his turn, was obliged to relinquish the command through

fatigue and ill health, and was succeeded by Major Thayer of Rhode

Island, aided by Captain (afterwards commodore) Talbot, who had

distinguished himself in the preceding year by an attack on a

ship-of-war in the Hudson. The present was an occasion that required men

of desperate valor.

On the fourth day the enemy brought a large Indiaman, cut down to a

floating battery, to bear upon the works; but though it opened a

terrible fire, it was silenced before night. The next day several ships

of war got within gunshot. Two prepared to attack it in front; others

brought their guns to bear on Fort Mercer; while two made their way into

the narrow channel between Mud Island and the Pennsylvania shore, to

operate with the British batteries erected there.

At a concerted signal a cannonade was opened from all quarters. The

heroic little garrison stood the fire without flinching; the danger,

however, was growing imminent. The batteries on Province Island

enfiladed the works. The ships in the inner channel approached so near

as to throw hand-grenades into the fort, while marines stationed in the

round-tops stood ready to pick off any of the garrison that came in

sight.

The scene now became awful; incessant firing from ships, forts, gondolas

and floating batteries, with clouds of sulphurous smoke, and the

deafening thunder of cannon. Before night there was hardly a

fortification to defend; palisades were shivered, guns dismounted, the

whole parapet levelled. There was terrible slaughter; most of the

company of artillery were destroyed. Fleury himself was wounded. Captain

Talbot received a wound in the wrist, but continued bravely fighting

until disabled by another wound in the hip.[100]

To hold out longer was impossible. Colonel Thayer made preparations to

evacuate the fort in the night. Every thing was removed in the evening,

that could be conveyed away without too much exposure to the murderous

fire from the round-tops. The wounded were taken over to Red Bank

accompanied by part of the garrison. Thayer remained with forty men

until eleven o’clock, when they set fire to what was combustible of the

fort they had so nobly defended, and crossed to Red Bank by the light of

its flames.

The loss of this fort was deeply regretted by Washington, though he gave

high praise to the officers and men of the garrison. Colonel Smith was

voted a sword by Congress, and Fleury received the commission of

lieutenant-colonel.

Washington still hoped to keep possession of Red Bank, and thereby

prevent the enemy from weighing the chevaux-de-frise before the frost

obliged their ships to quit the river. “I am anxiously waiting the

arrival of the troops from the northward,” writes he, “who ought, from

the time they have had my orders, to have been here before this. Colonel

Hamilton, one of my aides, is up the North River, doing all he can to

push them forward, but he writes me word, that he finds many

unaccountable delays thrown in his way. The want of these troops has

embarrassed all my measures exceedingly.”

The delays in question will best be explained by a few particulars

concerning the mission of Colonel Hamilton. On his way to the

head-quarters of Gates, at Albany, he found Governor Clinton and General

Putnam encamped on the opposite sides of the Hudson, just above the

Highlands; the governor at New Windsor, Putnam at Fishkill. About a mile

from New Windsor, Hamilton met Morgan and his riflemen, early in the

morning of the 2d of November, on the march for Washington’s camp,

having been thus tardily detached by Gates. Hamilton urged him to hasten

on with all possible despatch, which he promised to do. The colonel had

expected to find matters in such a train, that he would have little to

do but hurry on ample reinforcements already on the march; whereas, he

found that a large part of the Northern army was to remain in and about

Albany, about four thousand men to be spared to the commander-in-chief;

the rest were to be stationed on the east side of the Hudson with

Putnam, who had held a council of war how to dispose of them. The old

general, in fact, had for some time past been haunted by a project of an

attack upon New York, in which he had twice been thwarted, and for which

the time seemed propitious, now that most of the British troops were

reported to have gone from New York to reinforce General Howe. Hamilton

rather disconcerted his project by directing him, in Washington’s name,

to hurry forward two Continental brigades to the latter, together with

Warner’s militia brigade; also, to order to Red Bank a body of Jersey

militia about to cross to Peekskill.

Having given these directions, Hamilton hastened on to Albany. He found

still less disposition on the part of Gates to furnish the troops

required. There was no certainty, he said, that Sir Henry Clinton had

gone to join General Howe. There was a possibility of his returning up

the river, which would expose the arsenal at Albany to destruction,

should that city be left bare of troops. The New England States, too,

would be left open to the ravages and depredations of the enemy; beside,

it would put it out of his power to attempt any thing against

Ticonderoga, an undertaking of great importance, in which he might

engage in the winter. In a word, Gates had schemes of his own, to which

those of the commander-in-chief must give way.

Hamilton felt, he says, how embarrassing a task it was for one so young

as himself to oppose the opinions and plans of a veteran, whose

successes had elevated him to the highest importance; though he

considered his reasonings unsubstantial, and merely calculated to “catch

the Eastern people.” It was with the greatest difficulty he prevailed on

Gates to detach the brigades of Poor and Patterson to the aid of the

commander-in-chief; and, finding reinforcements fall thus short from

this quarter, he wrote to Putnam to forward an additional thousand of

Continental troops from his camp. “I doubt,” writes he subsequently to

Washington, “whether you would have had a man from the Northern army, if

the whole could have been kept at Albany with any decency.”

Having concluded his mission to General Gates, Hamilton returned to the

camp of Governor Clinton. The worthy governor seemed the general officer

best disposed in this quarter to promote the public weal, independent of

personal considerations. He had recently expressed his opinion to

General Gates, that the army under Washington ought at present to be the

chief object of attention, “for on its success every thing worth

regarding depended.”

The only need of troops in this quarter at present, was to protect the

country from little plundering parties, and to carry on the works

necessary for the defence of the river. The latter was the governor’s

main thought. He was eager to reconstruct the fortresses out of which he

had been so forcibly ejected; or rather to construct new ones in a

better place, about West Point, where obstructions were again to be

extended across the river.[101]

Putnam, on the contrary, wished to keep as much force as possible under

his control. The old general was once more astride of what Hamilton

termed his “hobby-horse,” an expedition against New York. He had

neglected to forward the troops which had been ordered to the South: not

the least attention had been paid by him to Hamilton’s order from

Albany, in Washington’s name, for the detachment of an additional

thousand of troops. Some, which had come down from Albany, had been

marched by him to Tarrytown: he himself had reconnoitred the country

almost down to King’s Bridge, and was now advanced to the neighborhood

of White Plains. “Every thing,” writes Hamilton, “is sacrificed to the

whim of taking New York.” The young colonel was perplexed how to proceed

with the brave-hearted, but somewhat wrong-headed old general; who was

in as bellicose a mood, now that he was mounted on his hobby, as when at

the siege of Boston he mounted the prize mortar “Congress,” and prayed

for gunpowder.

Hamilton, in his perplexity, consulted Governor Clinton. The latter

agreed with him that an attempt against New York would be a mere

“suicidal parade,” wasting time and men. The city at present was no

object, even if it could be taken, and to take it would require men that

could ill be spared from more substantial purposes. The governor,

however, understood the character and humors of his old coadjutor, and

in his downright way; advised Hamilton to send an order in the most

emphatical terms to General Putnam, to despatch all the Continental

troops under him to Washington’s assistance, and to detain the militia

instead of them.

A little of the governor’s own hobby, by the way, showed itself in his

councils. “He thinks,” writes Hamilton, “that there is no need of more

Continental troops here than a few, to give a spur to the militia in

working upon the fortifications.”

The “emphatical” letter of Hamilton had the effect the governor

intended. It unhorsed the belligerent veteran when in full career. The

project against New York was again given up, and the reinforcements

reluctantly ordered to the South. “I am sorry to say,” writes Hamilton,

“the disposition for marching in the officers, and men in general, of

these troops, does not keep pace with my wishes, or the exigency of the

occasion. They have unfortunately imbibed an idea that they have done

their part of the business of the campaign, and are now entitled to

repose. This, and the want of pay, make them adverse to a long march at

this advanced season.”

Governor Clinton borrowed six thousand dollars for Hamilton, to enable

him to put some of the troops in motion; indeed, writes the colonel, he

has been the only man who has done any thing to remove these

difficulties. Hamilton advised that the command of the post should be

given to the governor, if he would accept of it, and Putnam should be

recalled; “whose blunders and caprices,” said he, “are endless.”

Washington, however, knew too well the innate worth and sterling

patriotism of the old general, to adopt a measure that might deeply

mortify him. The enterprise, too, on which the veteran had been bent,

was one which he himself had approved of when suggested under other

circumstances. He contented himself, therefore, with giving him a

reprimand in the course of a letter, for his present dilatoriness in

obeying the orders of his commander-in-chief. “I cannot but say,” writes

he, “there has been more delay in the march of the troops than I think

necessary; and I could wish, that in future my orders may be immediately

complied with, without arguing upon the propriety of them. If any

accident ensues from obeying them, the fault will be upon me, not upon

you.”

Washington found it more necessary than usual, at this moment, to assert

his superior command, from the attempts which were being made to weaken

his stand in the public estimation. Still he was not aware of the extent

of the intrigues that were in progress around him, in which we believe

honest Putnam had no share. There was evidently a similar game going on

with that which had displaced the worthy Schuyler. The surrender of

Burgoyne, though mainly the result of Washington’s far-seeing plans, had

suddenly trumped up Gates into a quasi rival. A letter written to Gates

at the time, and still existing among his papers, lays open the spirit

of the cabal. It is without signature, but in the handwriting of James

Lovell, member of Congress from Massachusetts; the same who had

supported Gates in opposition to Schuyler. The following are extracts:

“You have saved our Northern Hemisphere; and in spite of consummate and

repeated blundering, you have changed the condition of the Southern

campaign, on the part of the enemy, from offensive to defensive. * * *

The campaign here must soon close; if our troops are obliged to retire

to Lancaster, Reading, Bethlehem, &c. for winter-quarters, and the

country below is laid open to the enemy’s flying parties, great and very

general will be the murmur—so great, so general, that nothing inferior

to a commander-in-chief will be able to resist the mighty torrent of

public clamor and public vengeance.

“We have had a noble army melted down by ill-judged marches—marches that

disgrace the authors and directors, and which have occasioned the

severest and most just sarcasm and contempt of our enemies.

“How much are you to be envied, my dear general! How different your

conduct and your fortune!

“A letter from Colonel Mifflin, received at the writing of the last

paragraph, gives me the disagreeable intelligence of the loss of our

fort on the Delaware. You must know the consequences—loss of the river

boats, galleys, ships of war, &c.; good winter-quarters to the enemy,

and a general retreat, or ill-judged, blind attempt on our part to save

a gone character.

“Conway, Spotswood, Conner, Ross, and Mifflin resigned, and many other

brave and good officers are preparing their letters to Congress on the

same subject. In short, this army will be totally lost, unless you come

down and collect the virtuous band who wish to fight under your banner,

and with their aid save the Southern Hemisphere. Prepare yourself for a

jaunt to this place—Congress must send for you.”[102]

Under such baleful supervision, of which, as we have observed, he was

partly conscious, but not to its full extent, Washington was obliged to

carry on a losing game, in which the very elements seemed to conspire

against him.

In the mean time, Sir William Howe was following up the reduction of

Fort Mifflin by an expedition against Fort Mercer, which still impeded

the navigation of the Delaware. On the 17th of November, Lord Cornwallis

was detached with two thousand men to cross from Chester into the

Jerseys, where he would be joined by a force advancing from New York.

Apprised of this movement, Washington detached General Huntington, with

a brigade, to join Varnum at Red Bank. General Greene was also ordered

to repair thither with his division, and an express was sent off to

General Glover, who was on his way through the Jerseys with his brigade,

directing him to file off to the left towards the same point. These

troops, with such militia as could be collected, Washington hoped would

be sufficient to save the fort. Before they could form a junction,

however, and reach their destination, Cornwallis appeared before it. A

defence against such superior force was hopeless. The works were

abandoned; they were taken possession of by the enemy, who proceeded to

destroy them. After the destruction had been accomplished, the

reinforcements from the North, so long and so anxiously expected, and so

shamefully delayed, made their appearance. “Had they arrived but ten

days sooner,” writes Washington to his brother, “it would, I think, have

put it in my power to save Fort Mifflin, which defended the

chevaux-de-frise, and consequently have rendered Philadelphia a very

ineligible situation for the enemy this winter.”

The troops arrived in ragged plight, owing to the derangement of the

commissariat. A part of Morgan’s rifle corps was absolutely unable to

take the field for want of shoes, and such was the prevalent want in

this particular, that ten dollars reward was offered in general orders

for a model of the best substitute for shoes that could be made out of

raw hides.

The evil which Washington had so anxiously striven to prevent had now

been effected. The American vessels stationed in the river had lost all

protection. Some of the galleys escaped past the batteries of

Philadelphia in a fog, and took refuge in the upper part of the

Delaware; the rest were set on fire by their crews and abandoned.

The enemy were now in possession of the river, but it was too late in

the season to clear away the obstructions, and open a passage for the

large ships. All that could be effected at present, was to open a

sufficient channel for transports and vessels of easy burden, to bring

provisions and supplies for the army.

Washington advised the navy board, now that the enemy had the command of

the river, to have all the American frigates scuttled and sunk

immediately. The board objected to sinking them, but said they should be

ballasted and plugged, ready to be sunk in case of attack. Washington

warned them that an attack would be sudden, so as to get possession of

them before they could be sunk or destroyed;—his advice and warning were

unheeded; the consequence will hereafter be shown.

Life of George Washington, volume 3 of 5 · 第 26 / 40 章