QUESTIONS OF MILITARY RANK—POPULARITY OF PUTNAM—ARRANGEMENTS AT
HEAD-QUARTERS—COLONEL MIFFLIN AND JOHN TRUMBULL, AIDES-DE-CAMP—JOSEPH
REED, WASHINGTON’S SECRETARY AND CONFIDENTIAL FRIEND—GATES AS
ADJUTANT-GENERAL—HAZARDOUS SITUATION OF THE ARMY—STRENGTHENING OF THE
DEFENCES—EFFICIENCY OF PUTNAM—RAPID CHANGES—NEW DISTRIBUTION OF THE
FORCES—RIGID DISCIPLINE—LEE AND HIS CANE—HIS IDEA AS TO STRONG
BATTALIONS—ARRIVAL OF RIFLE COMPANIES—DANIEL MORGAN AND HIS SHARP
SHOOTERS—WASHINGTON DECLINES TO DETACH TROOPS TO DISTANT POINTS FOR
THEIR PROTECTION—HIS REASONS FOR SO DOING.
The justice and impartiality of Washington were called into exercise as
soon as he entered upon his command, in allaying discontents among his
general officers, caused by the recent appointments and promotions made
by the Continental Congress. General Spencer was so offended that Putnam
should be promoted over his head, that he left the army, without
visiting the commander-in-chief; but was subsequently induced to return.
General Thomas felt aggrieved by being outranked by the veteran Pomeroy;
the latter, however, declining to serve, he found himself senior
brigadier, and was appeased.
The sterling merits of Putnam soon made everyone acquiesce in his
promotion. There was a generosity and buoyancy about the brave old man
that made him a favorite throughout the army; especially with the
younger officers, who spoke of him familiarly and fondly as “Old Put;” a
sobriquet by which he is called even in one of the private letters of
the commander-in-chief.
The Congress of Massachusetts manifested considerate liberality with
respect to head-quarters. According to their minutes, a committee was
charged to procure a steward, a housekeeper, and two or three women
cooks; Washington, no doubt, having brought with him none but the black
servants who had accompanied him to Philadelphia, and who were but
little fitted for New England housekeeping. His wishes were to be
consulted in regard to the supply of his table. This his station, as
commander-in-chief, required should be kept up in ample and hospitable
style. Every day a number of his officers dined with him. As he was in
the neighborhood of the seat of the Provincial Government, he would
occasionally have members of Congress and other functionaries at his
board. Though social, however, he was not convivial in his habits. He
received his guests with courtesy; but his mind and time were too much
occupied by grave and anxious concerns, to permit him the genial
indulgence of the table. His own diet was extremely simple. Sometimes
nothing but baked apples or berries, with cream and milk. He would
retire early from the board, leaving an aide-de-camp or one of his
officers to take his place. Colonel Mifflin was the first person who
officiated as aide-de-camp. He was a Philadelphia gentleman of high
respectability, who had accompanied him from that city, and received his
appointment shortly after their arrival at Cambridge. The second
aide-de-camp was John Trumbull,[4] son of the Governor of Connecticut.
He had accompanied General Spencer to the camp, and had caught the
favorable notice of Washington by some drawings which he had made of the
enemy’s works. “I now suddenly found myself,” writes Trumbull, “in the
family of one of the most distinguished and dignified men of the age;
surrounded at his table by the principal officers of the army, and in
constant intercourse with them—it was further my duty to receive
company, and do the honors of the house to many of the first people of
the country of both sexes.” Trumbull was young, and unaccustomed to
society, and soon found himself, he says, unequal to the elegant duties
of his situation; he gladly exchanged it, therefore, for that of major
of brigade.
The member of Washington’s family most deserving of mention at
present, was his secretary, Mr. Joseph Reed. With this gentleman he
had formed an intimacy in the course of his visits to Philadelphia, to
attend the sessions of the Continental Congress. Mr. Reed was an
accomplished man, had studied law in America, and at the Temple in
London, and had gained a high reputation at the Philadelphia bar. In
the dawning of the Revolution he had embraced the popular cause, and
carried on a correspondence with the Earl of Dartmouth, endeavoring to
enlighten that minister on the subject of colonial affairs. He had
since been highly instrumental in rousing the Philadelphians to
co-operate with the patriots of Boston. A sympathy of views and
feelings had attached him to Washington, and induced him to accompany
him to the camp. He had no definite purpose when he left home, and his
friends in Philadelphia were surprised, on receiving a letter from him
written from Cambridge, to find that he had accepted the post of
secretary to the commander-in-chief.
They expostulated with him by letter. That a man in the thirty-fifth
year of his age, with a lucrative profession, a young wife and growing
family, and a happy home, should suddenly abandon all to join the
hazardous fortunes of a revolutionary camp, appeared to them the height
of infatuation. They remonstrated on the peril of the step. “I have no
inclination,” replied Reed, “to be hanged for half treason. When a
subject draws his sword against his prince, he must cut his way through,
if he means to sit down in safety. I have taken too active a part in
what may be called the civil part of opposition, to renounce, without
disgrace, the public cause when it seems to lead to danger; and have a
most sovereign contempt for the man who can plan measures he has not the
spirit to execute.”
Washington has occasionally been represented as cold and reserved; yet
his intercourse with Mr. Reed is a proof to the contrary. His friendship
towards him was frank and cordial, and the confidence he reposed in him
full and implicit. Reed, in fact, became, in a little time, the intimate
companion of his thoughts, his bosom counsellor. He felt the need of
such a friend in the present exigency, placed as he was in a new and
untried situation, and having to act with persons hitherto unknown to
him.
In military matters, it is true he had a shrewd counsellor in General
Lee; but Lee was a wayward character; a cosmopolite, without attachment
to country, somewhat splenetic, and prone to follow the bent of his
whims and humors, which often clashed with propriety and sound policy.
Reed on the contrary, though less informed on military matters, had a
strong common sense, unclouded by passion or prejudice, and a pure
patriotism, which regarded every thing as it bore upon the welfare of
his country.
Washington’s confidence in Lee had always to be measured and guarded in
matters of civil policy.
The arrival of Gates in camp, was heartily welcomed by the
commander-in-chief, who had received a letter from that officer,
gratefully acknowledging his friendly influence in procuring him the
appointment of adjutant-general. Washington may have promised himself
much cordial co-operation from him, recollecting the warm friendship
professed by him when he visited at Mount Vernon, and they talked
together over their early companionship in arms; but of that kind of
friendship there was no further manifestation. Gates was certainly of
great service, from his practical knowledge and military experience at
this juncture, when the whole army had in a manner to be organized; but
from the familiar intimacy of Washington he gradually estranged himself.
A contemporary has accounted for this, by alleging that he was secretly
chagrined at not having received the appointment of major-general, to
which he considered himself well fitted by his military knowledge and
experience, and which he thought Washington might have obtained for him
had he used his influence with Congress. We shall have to advert to this
estrangement of Gates on subsequent occasions.
The hazardous position of the army from the great extent and weakness of
its lines, was what most pressed on the immediate attention of
Washington; and he summoned a council of war, to take the matter into
consideration. In this it was urged that, to abandon the line of works,
after the great labor and expense of their construction, would be
dispiriting to the troops and encouraging to the enemy, while it would
expose a wide extent of the surrounding country to maraud and ravage.
Beside, no safer position presented itself, on which to fall back. This
being generally admitted, it was determined to hold on to the works, and
defend them as long as possible; and, in the mean time, to augment the
army to at least twenty thousand men.
Washington now hastened to improve the defences of the camp, strengthen
the weak parts of the line, and throw up additional works round the main
forts. No one seconded him more effectually in this matter than General
Putnam. No works were thrown up with equal rapidity to those under his
superintendence. “You seem, general,” said Washington, “to have the
faculty of infusing your own spirit into all the workmen you
employ;”—and it was the fact.
The observing chaplain already cited, gazed with wonder at the rapid
effects soon produced by the labors of an army. “It is surprising,”
writes he, “how much work has been done. The lines are extended almost
from Cambridge to Mystic River; very soon it will be morally impossible
for the enemy to get between the works, except in one place, which is
supposed to be left purposely unfortified, to entice the enemy out of
their fortresses. Who would have thought, twelve months past, that all
Cambridge and Charlestown would be covered over with American camps, and
cut up into forts and intrenchments, and all the lands, fields,
orchards, laid common,—horses and cattle feeding on the choicest mowing
land, whole fields of corn eaten down to the ground, and large parks of
well-regulated forest trees cut down for fire-wood and other public
uses.”
Beside the main dispositions above mentioned, about seven hundred men
were distributed in the small towns and villages along the coast, to
prevent depredations by water; and horses were kept ready saddled at
various points of the widely extended lines, to convey to head-quarters
intelligence of any special movement of the enemy.
The army was distributed by Washington into three grand divisions. One,
forming the right wing, was stationed on the heights of Roxbury. It was
commanded by Major-general Ward, who had under him Brigadier-generals
Spencer and Thomas. Another, forming the left wing under Major-general
Lee, having with him Brigadier-generals Sullivan and Greene, was
stationed on Winter and Prospect Hills; while the centre, under
Major-general Putnam and Brigadier-general Heath, was stationed at
Cambridge. With Putnam was encamped his favorite officer Knowlton who
had been promoted by Congress to the rank of major for his gallantry at
Bunker’s Hill.
At Washington’s recommendation, Joseph Trumbull, the eldest son of the
governor, received on the 24th of July the appointment of
commissary-general of the continental army. He had already officiated
with talent in that capacity in the Connecticut militia. “There is a
great overturning in the camp as to order and regularity,” writes the
military chaplain; “new lords, new laws. The generals Washington and Lee
are upon the lines every day. New orders from his excellency are read to
the respective regiments every morning after prayers. The strictest
government is taking place, and great distinction is made between
officers and soldiers. Every one is made to know his place and keep it,
or be tied up and receive thirty or forty lashes according to his crime.
Thousands are at work every day from four till eleven o’clock in the
morning.”
Lee was supposed to have been at the bottom of this rigid discipline;
the result of his experience in European campaigning. His notions of
military authority were acquired in the armies of the North. Quite a
sensation was, on one occasion, produced in camp by his threatening to
cane an officer for unsoldierly conduct. His laxity in other matters
occasioned almost equal scandal. He scoffed, we are told, “with his
usual profaneness,” at a resolution of Congress appointing a day of
fasting and prayer, to obtain the favor of Heaven upon their cause.
“Heaven,” he observed, “was ever found favorable to strong
battalions.”[5]
Washington differed from him in this respect. By his orders the
resolution of Congress was scrupulously enforced. All labor, excepting
that absolutely necessary, was suspended on the appointed day, and
officers and soldiers were required to attend divine service, armed and
equipped and ready for immediate action.
Nothing excited more gaze and wonder among the rustic visitors to the
camp, than the arrival of several rifle companies, fourteen hundred men
in all, from Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia; such stalwart fellows
as Washington had known in his early campaigns. Stark hunters and bush
fighters; many of them upwards of six feet high, and of vigorous frame;
dressed in fringed frocks, or rifle shirts, and round hats. Their
displays of sharp shooting were soon among the marvels of the camp. We
are told that while advancing at quick step, they could hit a mark of
seven inches diameter, at the distance of two hundred and fifty
yards.[6]
One of these companies was commanded by Captain Daniel Morgan, a native
of New Jersey, whose first experience in war had been to accompany
Braddock’s army as a waggoner. He had since carried arms on the frontier
and obtained a command. He and his riflemen in coming to the camp had
marched six hundred miles in three weeks. They will be found of signal
efficiency in the sharpest conflicts of the revolutionary war.
While all his forces were required for the investment of Boston,
Washington was importuned by the Legislature of Massachusetts and the
Governor of Connecticut, to detach troops for the protection of
different points of the sea-coast, where depredations by armed vessels
were apprehended. The case of New London was specified by Governor
Trumbull, where Captain Wallace of the Rose frigate, with two other
ships of war, had entered the harbor, landed men, spiked the cannon, and
gone off threatening future visits.
Washington referred to his instructions, and consulted with his general
officers and such members of the Continental Congress as happened to be
in camp, before he replied to these requests; he then respectfully
declined compliance.
In his reply to the General Assembly of Massachusetts, he stated frankly
and explicitly the policy and system on which the war was to be
conducted, and according to which he was to act as commander-in-chief.
“It has been debated in Congress and settled,” writes he, “that the
militia, or other internal strength of each province, is to be applied
for defence against those small and particular depredations, which were
to be expected, and to which they were supposed to be competent. This
will appear the more proper, when it is considered that every town, and
indeed every part of our sea-coast, which is exposed to these
depredations, would have an equal claim upon this army.
“It is the misfortune of our situation which exposes us to these
ravages, and against which, in my judgment, no such temporary relief
could possibly secure us. The great advantage the enemy have of
transporting troops, by being masters of the sea, will enable them to
harass us by diversions of this kind; and should we be tempted to pursue
them, upon every alarm, the army must either be so weakened as to expose
it to destruction, or a great part of the coast be still left
unprotected. Nor, indeed, does it appear to me that such a pursuit would
be attended with the least effect. The first notice of such an excursion
would be its actual execution, and long before any troops could reach
the scene of action, the enemy would have an opportunity to accomplish
their purpose and retire. It would give me great pleasure to have it in
my power to extend protection and safety to every individual; but the
wisdom of the General Court will anticipate me on the necessity of
conducting our operations on a general and impartial scale, so as to
exclude any just cause of complaint and jealousy.”
His reply to the Governor of Connecticut was to the same effect. “I am
by no means insensible to the situation of the people on the coast. I
wish I could extend protection to all, but the numerous detachments
necessary to remedy the evil would amount to a dissolution of the army,
or make the most important operations of the campaign depend upon the
piratical expeditions of two or three men-of-war and transports.”
His refusal to grant the required detachments gave much dissatisfaction
in some quarters, until sanctioned and enforced by the Continental
Congress. All at length saw and acquiesced in the justice and wisdom of
his decision. It was in fact a vital question, involving the whole
character and fortune of the war; and it was acknowledged that he met it
with a forecast and determination befitting a commander-in-chief.