was almost no fighting in Virginia, but during that term she was
furnishing her full quota of men, money and inspiration to the cause,
with devoted loyalty, assisting in the north and in the south, wherever
an attack was made. Directing her attention to the main army she
built no defences of any importance on her own territory east of the
Alleghanies. "The British success in the north and followed by still
more decided victories in the south. Thus later the English began to
look forward, with certainty, to the conquest of the entire country,
and as Virginia was regarded as the heart of the rebellion, it was
decided to carry their victorious arms into the state, as the surest
way of bringing the war to a speedy conclusion." We had no time, then,
for building forts, and when we recall the traitor Arnold's advance
on Richmond, with the two days he spent there destroying public and
private property--his taking of Petersburg, burning the tobacco and
vessels lying at the wharves, with Col. Tarleton's raids, scouring the
country of every thing; in fact all of Cornwallis' reign of terror,
which was soon to end in that imposing scene at Yorktown, we realize
truly that "the battle is not to the strong, nor the race to the
swift," but that a country's bulwark often are not forts and strong
towers, but her courageous heart, and her staunch friends, such men as
Lafayette, De Rochambeau, De Grasse and Steuben, who with Washington,
led the allied Americans and French forces at Yorktown, and besieged
the British fortification, the surrender of which virtually closed the
Revolutionary War on the 19th of October, 1781. The place is sacred,
their devotion reverenced.
FORTS OF THE NORTHWESTERN TERRITORY, KASKASKIA, CAHOKIA AND VINCENNES.
"While the communities of the sea coast were yet in a fever heat
from the uprising against the stamp act, the first explorers were
toiling painfully to Kentucky, and the first settlers were building
their palisaded hamlets on the banks of the Wautauga. The year
that saw the first Continental Congress saw also the short grim
tragedy of Lord Dunmore's war. The battles of the Revolution were
fought while Boone and his comrades were laying the foundation of
their Commonwealth. Hitherto the two chains of events had been
only remotely connected, but in 1776, the year of the Declaration
of Independence, the struggle between the king and his rebellious
subjects shook the whole land and the men of the western border
were drawn headlong into the full current of the Revolutionary war.
From that moment our politics became national, and the fate of
each portion of our country was thenceforth in some sort dependent
upon the welfare of every other. Each section had its own work
to do; the east won independence while the west began to conquer
the continent, yet the deeds of each were of vital consequence
to the other. The Continentals gave the west its freedom, and
took in return, for themselves and their children, a share of the
land that had been conquered and held by the scanty bands of tall
backwoodsmen."
Kentucky had been settled chiefly through Daniel Boone's
instrumentality in the year that saw the first fighting of the
Revolution, and had been added to Virginia by the strenuous endeavors
of Major George Rogers Clark of Albermarle, Virginia, whose far seeing
and ambitious soul prompted him to use it as a base from which to
conquer the vast region northwest of the Ohio. "The country beyond the
Ohio was not like Kentucky, a tenantless and debatable hunting ground.
It was the seat of powerful and warlike Indian confederacies, and of
cluster of ancient French hamlets which had been founded generations
before Kentucky pioneers were born. It also contained forts that were
garrisoned and held by the soldiers of the British king." It is true
that Virginia claimed this territory under the original grant in her
charter, but it was almost an unknown and foreign land, and could only
be held by force. Clark's scheming brain and bold heart had long been
planning its conquest. He looked about to see from whence came the
cause of the Indian atrocities on the whole American frontier, and
like Washington he saw that those Indian movements were impelled by
some outside force. He discovered that the British forts of Detroit,
Kaskaskia and St. Vincent were the centers from which the Indians
obtained their ammunition and arms to devastate the country. He
resolved to take these forts. "He knew that it would be impossible to
raise a force to capture these forts from the scanty garrisoned forts
and villages of Kentucky, though he knew of a few picked men peculiarly
suited to his purpose, but fully realized that he would have to go
to Virginia for the body of his forces. Accordingly, he decided to
lay the case before Patrick Henry, the governor of Virginia. Henry's
ardent soul quickly caught the flame from Clark's fiery enthusiasm,
but the peril of sending an expedition to such a wild and distant
country was so great, and Virginia's forces so exhausted that he could
do little beyond lending Clark the weight of his name and influence.
Finally though, Henry authorized him to raise seven companies, each of
fifty men, who were to act as militia, and to be paid as such. He also
advanced him a sum of twelve hundred pounds and gave him an order on
the authorities at Pittsburg for boats, supplies and ammunition; while
three of the most prominent gentlemen of Virginia, Thomas Jefferson,
George Mason and George Wythe, agreed, in writing, to do their part
to induce the legislature to grant to each of the adventurers three
hundred acres of the conquered land, if they were successful. Clark
was given the commission of colonel with the instruction to raise his
men from the frontier counties west of the Blue Ridge, so as not to
weaken the sea coast region in their struggle against the British." To
this instruction he did not strictly adhere. There was a company of
soldiers from Bedford County, Virginia, under his command, a list of
whose names are on our county records. Two of these are connections
of the mother of Mrs. R. B. Clayton, the regent of the Peaks of Otter
Chapter of Virginia Daughters, which facts enhance our pride and
interest in the capture of the western forts by Colonel Clark, which
perhaps, prevented a vast and beautiful region of our country from
being a part of a then foreign and hostile empire.
THE CAPTURE OF FORT KASKASKIA.
"Fort Kaskaskia, an old French fort of western Illinois, situated
on Kaskaskia River, and garrisoned by the British was, at the time
of its capture in splendid repair with a well drilled militia and
spies constantly on the lookout. Rochenblave, the commandant of the
fort, had two or three times as many men as Col. Clark, and would
have made a vigorous fight if he had not been taken by surprise.
Clark's force after the toil and hardships of much traveling across
rivers and tangled pathless forests, was much reduced, and it was
only his audacity and the noiseless speed of his movements, that
gave him a chance of success with the odds so heavily against him.
He ferried his men across the stream under cover of darkness and
profound silence. Inside the forts, lights were lit, and through
the windows came the sound of violins. The officers of the fort
had given a ball, the young men and girls were dancing, revelling
within, while the sentinels had left their posts. One of the men
whom Clark had captured, on his approach to the fort, showed him
a postern gate by the river side, through which he entered the
fort, having placed his men about the entrance. Advancing to the
great hall, where the revel was held he leaned silently, with
folded arms, against the door post, looking at the dancers. An
Indian lying on the floor of the entry suddenly sprang to his feet
uttering the unearthly war whoop. The dancing ceased, the women
screamed, while the men ran towards the door, but Clark standing
unmoved and with unchanged face, grimly bade them continue their
dancing, but to remember that they now danced under Virginia and
not Great Britain. At the same time his men seized the officers,
including the commandant, Rochenblave, who was sent a prisoner to
Williamsburg, Virginia."
Among his papers falling into the hands of Colonel Clark, were the
instructions which he had from time to time received from the British
Governor of Quebec and Detroit, urging him to stimulate the Indians to
war by the proffer of large bounties for the scalps of the Americans.
This shows of what importance the capture of this fort was at that
period, a defence against the scalping knife of the Indians as well as
the power of the British tyrant.
THE CAPTURE OF COHOKIA AND VINCENNES.
After the capture of Kaskaskia, without the shedding of a drop of
blood, Clark pushed on to the taking of fort Cohokia, where the French,
as soon as they were made to know that France had acknowledged the
independence of America, shouted for freedom and the Americans. Clark
then marched to fort Vincennes which, without the firing of a gun,
surrendered, and the garrison took the oath of allegiance to Virginia
July 19th, 1778. Very soon after this the British under Governor
Hamilton, left Detroit and recaptured Vincennes, only to be forced by
Clark to surrender it a second time in February, 1779, and to yield
himself a prisoner of war. The taking of this fort the second time was
a most remarkable achievement.
"Clark took, without artillery, a heavy stockaded fort, protected
by cannon and swivels and garrisoned by trained soldiers. Much
credit belongs to Clark's men but most belongs to their leader.
The boldness of his plan and the resolute skill with which he
followed it out, his perseverance through the intense hardship
of the midwinter march of two hundred miles, through swamps and
swollen rivers, with lack of force, the address with which he kept
the French and Indians neutral, and the masterful way in which he
controlled his own men, together with the ability and courage he
displayed in the actual attack, combined to make his feat the
most memorable of all the deeds done west of the Alleghenies in
the Revolutionary war. It was likewise the most important in its
results, for had he been defeated in the capture of these forts we
would not only have lost Illinois but in all probability Kentucky
also."
As it was "he planted the flag of the Old Dominion over the whole of
the northwestern territory, and when peace came the British boundary
line was forced to the big lakes instead of coming down to the Ohio,
and the State of Virginia had a clear title to this vast domain, out
of which were carved the states of Ohio, Illinois, Indiana, Wisconsin,
Michigan and a part of Minnesota." Virginia's share in the history of
the nation has been gallant and leading, but the Revolutionary war was
emphatically fought by Americans for America; no part could have won
without the help of the whole, and every victory was thus a victory for
all in which all alike can take pride--_American Monthly Magazine._
UNCROWNED QUEENS AND KINGS, AS SHOWN THROUGH HUMOROUS INCIDENTS OF THE
REVOLUTION.
One by one the years have dropped into the abyss of the past, since
the close of the war for American Independence. Time has spread his
brooding wings over the gulf and much of the horror and of the pathos
of that tremendous struggle is now veiled from us; yet we are still
perhaps too prone to remember only the dreadful in the events of the
war, too anxious to recall only the dark days, leaving out the traces
of cheerfulness which even in those troublous times, were experienced
here and there; for there were many incidents connected with the
American Revolution which were in lighter vein; incidents which did
not, it is true, abolish the gloom and the suffering, but which
lightened the sombreness and shed rays of glimmering light through the
shade.
It has always seemed to me almost incredible, that the Colonists
could have found anything to laugh at during those awful years. They
were threatened with absolute loss of liberty as a country; they were
menaced by starvation, and they were obliged to pass through the rigors
of the winters, without proper food or clothing. The sanctity of their
homes was invaded by the grim monster of war, who was no respecter
of persons, and to whose voracious palate all persons were equally
attractive.
If the British won their cause, the Colonists had nothing better to
which to look forward than slavery and injustice; if the colonists
won theirs, they must face the future poorly equipped in every way.
The waste of their country must be repaired, their desolate homes
must be rebuilt; their business, which was crushed, must be restored,
they must begin from the beginning. Whatever the result, the outlook
was dark. As the days went on, the husbands and fathers were obliged
to forsake their plows, and go, perhaps with but a moment's warning,
to bloody fields of battle. Poorly clothed, they fought in their
shirt sleeves and with their feet bare, their bloody foot prints often
standing out as symbols of the struggle. The women must remain at home,
to plow and sow and reap. The American soldiers must have spent many
sleepless nights thinking of their unprotected ones at home, alone and
defenceless. How could there be anything of humor connected with the
struggle? And yet, while the American Revolution can in no sense of the
word be said to have had its humorous side, yet there was much of humor
connected with many Revolutionary occurrences, the stories of which
have lived until the present time and have gained perhaps in their
humorous aspect since the close of the great struggle.
One of the first incidents of the war, which I have found to savor of
the humorous, was the meeting of General John Burgoyne and the Irish
patriot immediately after the surrender of the British General. All
through the march of the General, to Saratoga, he had boasted of the of
the calamities which he would bring upon the Americans. Pompously up
and down his quarters he would strut, composing high sounding sentences
and listening to the fine roll of his voice, revelling in his verbosity
and smiling with satisfaction at his thoughts which he deemed so great.
The manifestos which he issued so frequently, were words, words,
words, and these reiterated over and over again, the direful things
which would encompass the Americans, did they not surrender with all
haste and with becoming deference. He made himself ridiculous by the
manifestos, but he did not realize this until he made his way through
the streets of Albany, a conquered rather than a conquering hero, and
met a funny little Irishman, who had evidently studied the harangues of
the General to good purpose.
On the march through the Albany streets, Burgoyne was surrounded by
men, women and children, who would fain look upon the face of this
pompous British General. Suddenly in the crowded part of the street,
there bobbed up in front of him, a blue-eyed, red-haired Celt, his
bright eyes dancing with mirth and his tongue ready with the wit of his
mother country. "Make way there, ye spalpeens," he shouted, "sure don't
ye see the great Ginral Burgyne a comin' along? Sthand back fer the
great Ginral. Wud yees be standin' in the way of the conquerer? If ye
don't sthand back and give the great man room, shure I'll murther ivy
mither's son of ye."
History does not record how the boasting Briton received the onslaught
of the Irishman, but we can readily imagine that his face lengthened
a little, as he heard the laughs on every side. Still it is quite
possible that he did not see the joke until the following week.
Someway, that march of Burgoyne and his army, always struck me as
humorous to a certain extent. While there was the sadness caused by the
loss of many lives, and while the battle of Saratoga was one of the
great battles of the world, still Burgoyne himself, with his verbosity
and his pomposity, was so ludicrous a figure oft times, that he gave a
humorous tinge to the entire campaign.
The saying of General Starke at Bennington which has come down to us
with such pleasing patriotism: "Here come the Red Coats and we must
beat them to-day, or Mollie Starke is a widow," was not a humorous
saying, nor was the battle of Bennington a humorous incident. But Bill
Nye, the immortal, has written something exceedingly funny concerning
both. Nye said, "This little remark of Starke's made an instantaneous
hit, and when they counted up their prisoners at night they found they
had six hundred souls and a Hessian." Nye's description of Burgoyne's
surrender is well worth repeating. He wrote: "A council was now held in
Burgoyne's tent and on the question of renewing the fight, stood six to
six, when an eighteen pound hot shot went through the tent, knocking
a stylograph pen out of Burgoyne's hand. Almost at once he decided to
surrender, and the entire army of 6999 men was surrendered, together
with arms, portable bath tubs and leather hat boxes."
Nearly all of our American soldiers were brave; that goes without
saying. One of the bravest of these was Lieutenant Manning. His deeds
of prowess were many and great. He was hero in one extremely humorous
incident at the battle of Eutaw. After the British line had been
broken, the "Old Buffs" started to run. This particular regiment was as
boastful as General Burgoyne. Manning knew this and he was delighted
to follow hard after them with his platoon. Excited in his pursuit he
did not notice that he was getting away from his men, until he found
himself surrounded by British soldiers and not an American in sight.
Something must be done at once and Manning was the man to do it. He
siezed a British officer standing near, and much to that officer's
amazement he not only felt himself violently handled, but he heard the
stentorian voice of the American shouting--"You are my prisoner." His
sword was wrested from his grasp, and he was made a human shield for
this preposterously impudent American. But instead of making a break
for liberty, he began to relate his various titles to Manning. "I am
sir," he said, "Sir Henry Barry, Deputy Adjutant General of the British
Army, Captain in the 52d Regiment, Secretary to the Commandant of
Charleston."
"Enough Sir," said Manning, "You are just the man I have been looking
for. Fear nothing; you shall screen me from danger and I will take
special care of you," which he did, holding the astonished man of title
in front of him, until he reached the Americans and handed him over as
a prisoner.
Colonel Peter Horry was another brave man of the south. He was
afflicted by an impediment in his speech and at one time the impediment
nearly worked disaster for him. He was ordered to await in ambuscade
with his regiment for a British detachment, and he soon had them
completely within his power; but when he tried to command his men
to fire, his speech failed him. In vain he corrugated his brows and
twisted his jaws; the word would not come out. "Fi, fi, fi, fi," he
shouted, but could get no further. Finally in his desperation he
howled, "shoot, blank you, shoot. You know very well what I would say.
Shoot and be blanked to you." Horry was a determined character. At one
time in battle a brother officer called to him:
"I am wounded, Colonel." "Think no more of it, Baxter, but stand to
your post," called back Horry. "But I can't stand, Colonel, I am
wounded a second time." "Then lie down, Baxter, but quit not your
post." "Colonel," cried the suffering man, "they have shot me again,
and if I remain longer here I shall be shot to pieces." "Be it so
Baxter," returned Horry, "but stir not."
The part that women took in the Revolution has been sung by poets and
made the nucleus of writers' efforts for a hundred years and more.
Those Revolutionary women had brawn as well as brain. They were able
to defend their homes from the depredations of the Royalists; they
could bid the Indian begone, not only by word of mouth but at the
musket's end. They could plow and sow and reap; they could care for
their families and they could take up arms in liberty's cause if the
need arose. Oh, those women of the American Revolution! What a history
of bravery and fortitude and endurance they bequeathed to their
descendants! There is some humor, too, in the stories left to us in
record of their heroism.
It was the fashion among certain circles of Whig women, during the
dark days of the Revolution, to wear deep mourning as an indication of
their feelings. The black typified the darkness of the times and was
worn by the town ladies who could afford it. One of these ladies, a
Mrs. Brewton, was walking along Broad street in Charleston one morning,
when she was joined by an insolently familiar British officer. At that
very moment, the crepe flounce on her dress was accidently torn off.
She quickly picked it up and passing just at that time the house of
the absent Governor, John Rutledge, she sprang up the steps before
the astonished eyes of the officer and decked the door with crepe,
saying in ringing tones, "Where are you, dearest Governor? Surely the
magnanimous Britons will not deem it a crime if I cause your house as
well as your friends to mourn your absence." Colonel Moncrief, the
English engineer, was occupying the house at the time, and his feelings
were hurt at the action of Mrs. Brewton, as were those of the officer
who had been with her, and she was arrested a few hours afterward and
sent to Philadelphia.
One of the most marked women of the Revolution, a woman who figured
in many a ludicrous as well as serious incident, was Nancy Hart, of
Georgia. Nancy had a frightful temper, a big ungainly body, and she
suffered from a most marked obliquity of sight. In fact Nancy was
so cross-eyed, that her own children never could tell when their
mother was looking at them and were perhaps better behaved on that
very account. One time a party of Tories entered her modest home on
food intent. They had taken the precaution of providing food for
themselves, shooting Nancy's last remaining gobbler. Mrs. Hart had her
head muffled up and no one had noticed her cross-eyes. The soldiers
stacked their arms within reach and Nancy passed between them and the
table, assiduous in her attention to the diners. The party had a jug,
of course, and when they were becoming right merry, Nancy suddenly tore
the mufflers from her head and snatching up one of the guns, swore that
she would kill every last man who tried to get his gun or who delayed
in getting out of the cabin. The men looked at Nancy's eyes and each
man thinking she was aiming at him only, made a hasty and determined
exit. But the terrible woman killed three Tories that day with her own
hands. One day Nancy was boiling soap. As she industriously stirred,
one of her eyes caught a glimpse of a Tory peeking through a chink in
the cabin. Stirring busily away, Nancy kept one eye on the soap and
the other on the chink. When the spy again appeared she let drive full
at the chink, a good big ladle full of hot soap. A scream satisfied her
that she had hit the mark, and she finished her soap-making with great
satisfaction. This woman was termed by one of the patriots: "A honey of
a patriot, but the devil of a wife."
The Revolutionary woman's resources were indeed great, and the strategy
she employed was as satisfactory as it was many times humorous. A Whig
woman of New York State, a Mrs. Fisher, was one morning surprised by
the hurried entrance of a Whig neighbor, who begged of her to conceal
him as the Tories were pursuing him. Just outside her door was an ash
heap four or five feet high. Seizing a shovel, Mrs. Fisher immediately
excavated a place in the ashes and buried her friend in it. But first
she had taken precaution to place a number of quills one in the other
and extend them from the prisoner's mouth to the air, that he might
breathe, and there he remained snugly ensconced until the Tories had
come and gone, and even though they ran over the ash heap, they never
suspected what lay beneath it.
Equally resourceful was that woman of the Revolution, who when her
husband was pursued by Tories, hustled him down cellar and into a meat
barrel partially filled with brine and meat. The Tories went into the
cellar and even peered into the barrel, but they did not discover the
man, who at the risk of terribly inflamed eyes, ducked his head beneath
the brine, when he heard the soldiers' hands on the head of the barrel.
Inflamed eyes were easier to bear than imprisonment in the hands of the
British.
Bill Nye's description of the close of the war is as humorous as it is
correct. Nye wrote: "The country was free and independent, but oh, how
ignorant it was about the science of government. The author does not
wish to be personal when he states that the country at that time did
not know enough about affairs to carry water for a circus elephant. It
was heavily in debt, with no power to raise money. New England refused
to pay tribute to King George and he in turn directed his hired men to
overturn the government; but a felon broke out on his thumb and before
he could put it down, the crisis was averted and the country saved."
And so it goes; the sad and the humorous are blended on every side in
life's struggles either in war or peace. Fortunate is the man or woman
who can halt a little by the wayside and for a few moments laugh dull
care away.--Compiled from _Federation Magazine_.
A COLONIAL STORY.