he knew their ships could sail up the Hudson, across which he had
vainly tried to make a barrier by sinking some old ships. Step by
step, therefore, Washington withdrew until he came to White Plains.
There a battle was fought; but, while the Americans were defeated,
the British retreated on the next day, rather than renew the fight
and lose more men.
Washington had left General Nathanael Greene in charge of Fort
Washington, telling him to forsake it rather than run any risk of
losing his troops. But Greene thought it would be safe to remain
there awhile longer. Unfortunately, however, a traitor gave General
Howe the plans of the place, thus enabling him to surprise and
capture Fort Washington, together with three thousand men.
These soldiers, like many other American prisoners, were sent on
board a rotting ship in New York harbor, where, in the course of
the Revolutionary War, more than eleven thousand men died from bad
food, bad water, and bad air. These victims of British cruelty were
first buried in the mud at low tide, but their remains now rest in
Washington Park, Brooklyn. A memorial monument has also been erected
in their honor in Trinity Church, bearing the inscription: "To those
great and good men who died while imprisoned in this city, for their
devotion to the cause of American Independence." This honor was
well deserved, for soldiers who die of disease or in captivity are
just as likely to be heroes as those who fall on the battlefield.
Washington, seeing his fort taken, now went to Hack´en-sack, sending
orders to General Charles Lee to cross the Hudson and join him in
New Jersey. But instead of obeying promptly, Lee delayed so long
that, as you will soon see, he hampered Washington greatly. The
British, in the meantime, crossed the river, and Greene was obliged
to leave Fort Lee in hot haste. Indeed, the enemy were so near that
they found the soup pots still boiling on the fire, and merrily ate
the dinner which was to have been served for the Americans.
Still faithful to his plan to worry and check the British, without
meeting them in open battle, Washington now slowly retreated across
New Jersey. We are told that he often left a place as the enemy came
in; and because he thus imitated the tactics of a Roman general, you
will often hear him called the "American Fā´bi-us."
Corn-wal´lis, the British general now in charge, pursued the
Americans as fast as he could, in order to force them to meet him
in pitched battles. But while the armies were often close enough
to hear the music of each other's bands, and there were many small
skirmishes, no real battle took place.
In one of these small engagements the wads used in loading the
guns gave out. The chaplain of the regiment, who hated the British
because they had cruelly shot his wife and baby, rushed into a
church, tore up some hymn books, and, carrying the leaves to the
soldiers for wads, said: "Give 'em Watts, boys! Give 'em Watts!"
LXVIII. CHRISTMAS EVE.
While retreating before Cornwallis, Washington kept sending stern
orders to Lee to hasten and join him, so that their combined forces
could be used against the British. But Lee did not obey, and came
on very slowly. Indeed, he said freely that he did not consider
Washington a good general, and often boasted that if _he_ were only
at the head of the army the war would soon be over.
Lee was in a little inn in New Jersey, writing a letter to General
Gates expressing his opinion of Washington, when he was suddenly
surrounded by the British and made a prisoner. Without giving him
time to change his dressing-gown and slippers, or get into his
uniform, the British bore him off in triumph, thinking they had
taken the most clever of all the American generals. But Lee was
really no loss, and his army, having fortunately gone on ahead,
joined Washington sooner without a general than it would have done
had Lee been there.
Many of the Americans now fancied, like the British, that since Lee
was a prisoner their mainstay was gone. Besides, the British began
to threaten to illtreat Lee, and as the Americans held no British
generals as prisoners, they could not offer an exchange. Knowing
this, a Rhode Island officer named Barton made a bold plan.
He had heard that the British General Prescott was quartered on the
seashore not very far from Newport. Taking a party of forty brave
seamen and soldiers, he rowed with muffled oars right through the
British fleet, one dark night. Then a sentinel was noiselessly
killed, and the small force surrounded the house where Prescott lay
asleep. A moment later the Americans burst into his bedroom, bore
him off half clothed to their boats, and, rowing away in safety,
sent word to the British that Prescott should receive just the same
treatment that they gave Lee. Nine months later an exchange was
made, and Lee and Prescott went back to their posts (1778).
In the meantime Washington still avoided a battle, and retreated
to the Delaware. There, having cleverly secured every boat within
a hundred miles, he took his army over the river. When the British
came up, not a single boat was to be had; so they camped near the
stream, thinking it would soon freeze hard enough to allow them to
cross on the ice and seize Philadelphia.
This was a time of great trial for the Americans, and Washington was
the only man who did not despair. Still, the British had set a price
upon his head, and were loudly boasting that they would soon hang
him. Speaking of this, Washington once told his friend Joseph Reed:
"My neck does not feel as though it were made for a halter." Then he
added that if things came to the worst they would have to retreat
into Virginia, or even over the Alleghanies, but that they must
never give up the struggle they had begun.
Congress, fearing the British would carry out their plan and seize
Philadelphia, now hastily withdrew to Baltimore. But before leaving,
Samuel Adams wrote: "Let America exert her own strength, and He
who cannot be indifferent to her righteous cause will even work
miracles, if necessary, to establish her feet upon a rock."
Washington, as we have seen, was very prudent; but he was not
lacking in courage. Seeing that the British forces were scattered,
he now thought it a fine chance to win a victory, which would
rekindle the ardor of his men and give new courage to all the nation.
[Illustration:
_Emanuel Leutze, Artist._
Washington crossing the Delaware.]
He therefore planned to surprise the Hessians at Trenton by crossing
the river, in spite of huge cakes of floating ice which nearly
blocked it. Marblehead fishermen were put in charge of the boats,
and such was their skill and daring that they took twenty-four
hundred men safely over. This crossing of the Delaware on Christmas
night (1776) was one of the most daring feats ever performed.
Besides, the men were only half clad, and so badly shod that they
left bloody footprints in the snow; and the cold was so intense that
night, that two of their number were actually frozen to death.
In spite of drifting snow and driving wind, Washington's force
marched bravely on, and surprised the Hessians at Trenton. The
wounded commander, Rahl, was forced to surrender, and his whole
army was seized. We are told that the Hessian soldiers had been so
busy keeping Christmas that they were all half drunk, and that Rahl
himself was too absorbed in a game of cards to read a note sent to
warn him of his peril. Thinking it a matter of no importance, he
thrust it into his pocket unread, and thus he and his men fell into
Washington's hands.
The news of the victory of Trenton filled the hearts of the
Americans with great joy, but it proved a bitter disappointment to
Cornwallis. Fancying the war all over, he had packed his trunks and
gone on board a vessel to return to England. But now General Howe
sent him back in haste to Trenton to fight Washington. Hedged in
between a river full of floating ice and a large army, it now seemed
as if Washington could not escape.
One evening, therefore, Cornwallis gleefully told one of his
officers that they would "bag the old fox" on the next day. The
officer suggested that it might be better not to postpone it till
the morrow; but Cornwallis answered that this time the Americans
could not escape. That same night, however, Washington took
advantage of the fact that the roads froze hard enough to enable him
to remove his cannon, and slipped away by back roads, leaving his
camp fires burning brightly so as to deceive the enemy. When the
British awoke the next morning, the "old fox" was gone, and sounds
of firing in the direction of Prince´ton soon convinced them that a
battle must be going on there.
Running into Cornwallis's tent, an officer roused him, crying: "To
arms, general! Washington has outgeneraled us. Let us fly to the
rescue of Princeton!" But, notwithstanding all their haste, they
reached Princeton only after the battle--on the present college
grounds--was all over, and the victorious Washington had safely
advanced to Mor´ris-town Heights. This campaign, in the dead of
winter, was so wonderful that it won for Washington the title of
"Savior of his Country," and Frederick the Great of Prussia once
said that it was the most brilliant piece of generalship in the
pages of history.
LXIX. THE FIGHT AT BENNINGTON.
While Washington was spending the rest of the winter at Morristown,
the news of his triumphs reached France. Franklin had been sent
there, in 1776, to secure help, if possible. His reputation as a
man of science, his great talents, and his affable manners made
him a great favorite in Paris, where the fashionable ladies and
gentlemen carried fans and snuffboxes decorated with his portrait.
But although both king and queen received Franklin very graciously,
they would not at first promise him any aid.
A young French nobleman named La-fā-yette´, longing to help the
Americans, now decided to leave his young wife and home. But as the
king forbade him to leave court, he secretly embarked upon a vessel
he fitted out himself, and crossed the Atlantic. Then, as soon as
he landed, he went straight to Congress and offered to serve the
United States without pay. A few days later he met Washington, whose
helper he became, and who soon learned to love him as dearly as if
he had been his own son.
[Illustration: Washington and Lafayette.]
Several other illustrious foreigners came in the same way to fight
for America and freedom. The bravest among them were the Germans De
Kalb´ and Steu´ben, and the Poles Pu-las´kĭ and Kos-ci-us´ko. It is
said that when Kosciusko first presented himself, and was asked what
he could do, he briefly answered: "Try me." This reply so pleased
Washington that he made the young man his aid-de-camp.
Washington's victories at Trenton and Princeton, and his return
toward New York, could not divert Howe from his purpose to secure
Philadelphia. When summer came on, therefore, he set out with his
fleet to take that city. Washington began retracing his steps,
and, knowing that Howe could not sail up the Delaware,--which
was defended by forts,--went to meet him at Chadds Ford on the
Bran´dy-wine (1777). Here a battle was fought, and not only were the
Americans defeated, but Lafayette was sorely wounded.
Although beaten, Washington's army retreated in good order to
Philadelphia, which was soon taken by Howe and the British forces.
Hoping to drive them away, Washington surprised them, one morning,
at Germantown. Here he would have won a brilliant victory, had not a
dense fog made two divisions of his men shoot each other before they
discovered their mistake, thus creating a panic.
As there was nothing to be gained by fighting with exhausted troops,
Washington now withdrew, and before long went to Valley Forge for
the winter. Meanwhile, Howe attacked the forts on either side of the
Delaware River. One of these held out bravely for six days, refusing
to surrender until it had been battered to pieces. Then, as one fort
alone could not check the British fleet, the second surrendered also.
Hoping to damage some of the British vessels at Philadelphia, the
patriots made rude torpedoes, which were placed inside of small kegs
and sent floating down the river. One of these engines struck a cake
of ice and exploded, and the British, thus warned of danger, shot at
every floating object they saw, thus waging what has been called in
fun the "Battle of the Kegs."
The British, having nothing else to do, now settled down comfortably
in Philadelphia, where they lived on the very best of everything.
They spent most of their time giving balls and parties, and grew so
fat and lazy that, as Franklin wittily said, "Howe has not taken
Philadelphia so much as Philadelphia has taken Howe." This remark
proved true, for although the plan had been that Howe should march
northward, he was delayed by Washington until it was almost too
late. Besides, we are told that the British general never received
positive orders to go north, for the paper, being badly written, was
laid aside to be copied, and forgotten until too late.
Meanwhile the British again tried to carry out their plan of
invading New York from Canada. This time, while one army started
from Lake Ontario for the Mo´hawk valley, Burgoyne came southward
up Lake Champlain, with British and Indian troops, and took Forts
Ticonderoga and Edward. This was considered a great victory in
England, and when King George heard that Ticonderoga was taken, he
clapped his hands and shouted: "I have beat them! I have beat all
the Americans!"
This was not true, however. But General Schuȳ´ler, sent to oppose
Burgoyne, had so small a force that all he could do was to hinder
the enemy's advance by cutting down trees and destroying bridges.
The king's advisers had told Burgoyne to hire Indians to help him,
and in spite of all he could do to prevent it, these savage allies
fought with their usual cruelty. They even killed and scalped Jane
McCreā, a beautiful young lady, who, it is said, was on her way to
meet a British officer to whom she was engaged. When this man saw
her long golden locks among the scalps the Indians brought back, he
left the army, and spent the rest of his life alone, mourning for
his betrothed.
After taking the two forts, Burgoyne, hearing that there were cannon
and stores at Ben´ning-ton, Vermont, sent part of his German troops
thither to secure them. But when his men drew near this place, they
found it ably defended by General Stark.
Even as a boy, this American patriot had always shown great courage
and presence of mind. Once, when a prisoner of the Indians, and
forced to run the gantlet. Stark snatched a club from one of his
captors, and struck right and left with such vigor that he dealt
more blows than he received. Later on, he also did many brave deeds
during the French and Indian wars.
When the Germans drew near Bennington, Stark led his men against the
foe, crying: "There they are, boys! We beat them to-day or Molly
Stark's a widow." The men, fired by his example, fought so bravely
that they soon won a signal victory. As Washington said, this was a
"grand stroke," for the Germans were almost all captured or killed,
while only a few of the Americans were lost.
We are told that one old man had five sons in this battle. On the
morrow, a neighbor, wishing to break the news of one son's death,
gently said: "One of your sons has been unfortunate." "Did he run
away or neglect his duty?" the father asked quickly. "No; worse
than that! He has fallen, but while fighting bravely." "Ah!" said
the father, "then I am satisfied!" For the old man was such a good
patriot that he was quite willing his sons should die for their
country, and considered that only traitors and cowards needed pity.
LXX. BURGOYNE'S SURRENDER.
The victory at Bennington not only saved the American cannon and
supplies from the hands of the foe, but enabled Stark and the Green
Mountain Boys to get between Burgoyne and Canada. They thus cut him
off from all help from the north, whence he expected both food and
ammunition for his men.
While Burgoyne was thus between Generals Schuyler and Stark, St.
Lěġ´er, another British general, was coming along the Mohawk valley
to join Burgoyne at Albany. On his way, however, he stopped to
besiege Fort Stan´wix, or Schuyler. Eight hundred volunteers set out
to reinforce the garrison, but on the way thither, at O-ris´ka-ny,
they were surprised by the Indian chief Brant. Their leader,
General Her´ki-mer, mortally wounded in the very beginning of the
engagement, bade his men place him under a tree, and then bravely
said: "Now, go and fight. I will face the enemy." In spite of pain,
he calmly lighted his pipe, and, while smoking, directed his troops
with such vigor that before long the Indians were routed.
The garrison at Fort Stanwix, hearing shots in the forest, made a
brave sortie, in which they captured five flags from St. Leger.
These they hoisted above their fort, upside down, putting above them
all a new flag made from pieces of a soldier's old shirt, a blue
jacket, and a red flannel petticoat. Although fashioned from such
queer materials, this flag bore thirteen alternate red and white
stripes, and in a blue field in one corner was a wreath of thirteen
white stars, the number of the United States. This was the new
American flag suggested by Washington--whose coat of arms bore stars
and stripes--and adopted by Congress in June, 1777.
But while the patriots thus fashioned a rude flag in the wilderness,
and were the first to fight under this emblem, it was Mrs. Ross,
of Philadelphia, who made the first American flag of this kind, in
June, 1777.
When Schuyler heard of Herkimer's brave stand, and of the bold
sortie from Fort Stanwix, he bade Arnold go and relieve the fort.
Fearing that his force might not prove strong enough, Arnold made
use of a trick. He told one of the prisoners, a half-witted lad,
that he should be free if he would only do exactly as he was bidden.
The lad agreed, and, clad in torn garments, ran to St. Leger's camp,
loudly shouting, "The Americans are coming!" Of course the British
and Indians crowded around him, and when the idiot was asked how
many men were on the way, he answered by pointing mysteriously to
the leaves on the trees overhead. This strange behavior made St.
Leger believe that a large force was advancing, and created such a
panic among his men that, in spite of all he could do, they beat a
hasty retreat.
As St. Leger had gone back, and Howe had not come up the Hudson,
Burgoyne was left entirely alone in the heart of the enemy's
country. Schuyler was therefore on the point of winning a glorious
victory, after all his hard work, when Congress suddenly bade him
give up his command to General Gates. Although wounded to the quick
by this order, Schuyler was too noble a man to show any anger.
He gallantly said, "The country before everything," and asked
permission of Gates to serve as an officer under him, since he could
no longer command.
Burgoyne was surrounded, and seeing that he must fight, he advanced
toward the American position on Be´mis Heights, near which the first
battle of Săr-a-tō´ga took place. But night came on before it was
over, and for more than two weeks the armies stood face to face,
watching each other closely, yet not daring to risk a new battle.
Finally, seeing that he must fight, starve, or retreat, Burgoyne
marched out again, to face the Americans in what is known as the
battle of Still´wa-ter.
Daniel Morgan and his sharpshooters, posted behind trees, carefully
singled out the bravest men, and shot them with unerring aim.
Indeed, such was their skill that it is said Morgan's riflemen could
"toss up an apple and shoot all the seeds out of it as it fell."
Chief among the British officers on that day was General Fra´ser,
who, when urged to take a less exposed position, simply replied:
"My duty forbids me to fly from danger." Even while he was speaking
thus, Morgan pointed him out to one of his best marksmen, saying:
"That gallant officer is General Fraser. I admire and honor him; but
he must die. Stand among those bushes, and do your duty." These
orders were so promptly carried out that a moment later Fraser lay
among the dead.
Arnold had been unjustly deprived of his command, but he could not
keep out of the fray. Dashing to the front, he led the advance with
his usual bravery, and forced his way into the British camp. But as
he reached it he fell wounded in the same leg which had suffered at
Quebec. His men tenderly bore him off the field of battle, where he
had won a victory while General Gates was lingering in his tent.
During the battle, some women and children who were with the British
army crouched in terror in the cellar of a neighboring house,
listening to the shriek of the cannon balls overhead. The wounded
in this building clamored for water, until, knowing the men would
perish if they ventured out, a soldier's wife marched boldly down
to the river. She did this several times, in full view of the
Americans, who admired her courage and let her alone.
The battle had raged so fiercely that Burgoyne retreated to
Saratoga, where he held a council of war to determine whether he
should surrender. In the midst of his talk, an eighteen-pound cannon
ball passed right over the table where he and his officers sat, so
they quickly and wisely concluded that it was high time to give up
(1777). The British soldiers, therefore, laid down their arms, and
the Americans marched into their camp playing "Yankee Doodle," the
tune they had adopted as a national air.
We are told that Burgoyne, on handing Gates his sword in token of
surrender, proudly remarked: "The fortune of war, General Gates,
has made me your prisoner"; to which Gates answered, as he gave it
back: "I shall always be ready to bear testimony that it has not
been through any fault of your Excellency." Later on, touched by the
courtesy of Schuyler, whose house he had burned down, Burgoyne said:
"You show me much kindness, though I have done you much injury."
"That was the fate of war," said Schuyler, kindly; "let us say no
more about it."
[Illustration: Burgoyne's Surrender.]
LXXI. THE WINTER AT VALLEY FORGE.
Although Gates received all the credit at first, the two battles of
Saratoga were really won by Schuyler, Morgan, and Arnold. Burgoyne's
surrender proved the turning point of the Revolutionary War, so
the fight at Saratoga is known as one of the decisive battles of
the world. Not only did it end the British plan of separating New
England from the Southern States, but it made the French promise
to help the Americans openly. It also gave King George such a
fright that he even offered to let the Americans send members to
Parliament, if they would lay down their arms and promise to obey
him.
But this offer, which would have more than satisfied the colonists
a short time before, came too late. They had suffered so much that
they were not willing to give up what they had won and again become
subject to a king who, like those who had come before him, might
at any time change his mind or break his promises. Besides, they
remembered only too clearly that, after granting charters, kings had
often taken them away again, and so they decided to keep on fighting
until the matter was settled once for all.
The news of the victory at Saratoga created a great sensation in
Paris, where the French had been waiting to see how things turned
out before they openly sided with the Americans. The king now not
only acknowledged the independence of the United Colonies of America
(1778), but made a treaty of friendship and commerce with them, and
soon sent a fleet to help them fight the British.
This happy turn of affairs was mainly brought about by Franklin, who
for the past two years had been making as many friends for America
as he could. Every one admired him for his learning and good nature,
and the French minister Turgot (tur-go´) once proposed his health,
saying: "He snatched a thunderbolt from heaven, and the scepter from
the hand of the tyrant!"