THE ACCOUNT OF ALEXANDER GRAYDON
One of the most interesting and best memoirs of revolutionary times is
that written by Alexander Graydon, and as he was taken prisoner at Fort
Washington, and closely connected with the events in New York during the
winter of 1776-7, we will quote here his account of his captivity.
He describes the building of Fort Washington in July of 1776 by the men
of Magaw’s and Hand’s regiments. General Putnam was the engineer. It was
poorly built for defence, and not adapted for a siege.
Graydon was a captain in Colonel Shee’s Regiment, but, for some reason
or other, Shee went home just before the battle was fought, and his
troops were commanded by Cadwallader in his stead. Graydon puts the
number of privates taken prisoner at 2706 and the officers at about 210.
Bedinger, as we have already seen, states that there were 2673 privates
and 210 officers. He was a man of painstaking accuracy, and it is
quite probable that his account is the most trustworthy. As one of the
privates was Bedinger’s own young brother, a boy of fifteen, whom he
undoubtedly visited as often as possible, while Graydon only went
once to the prisons, perhaps Bedinger had the best opportunities for
computing the number of captives.
Graydon says that Colonel Rawlings was, some time late in the morning
of the 16th of November, attacked by the Hessians, when he fought with
great gallantry and effect as they were climbing the heights, until the
arms of the riflemen became useless from the foulness they contracted
from the frequent repetition of their fire.
Graydon, himself, becoming separated from his own men, mistook a party
of Highlanders for them, and was obliged to surrender to them. He
was put under charge of a Scotch sergeant, who said to him and his
companion, Forrest: “Young men, ye should never fight against your
King!”
Just then a British officer rode up at full gallop exclaiming, “What!
taking prisoners! Kill them, Kill every man of them!”
“My back was towards him when he spoke,” says Graydon, “and although
by this time there was none of that appearance of ferocity in the guard
which would induce much fear that they would execute his command, I yet
thought it well enough to parry it, and turning to him, I took off my
hat, saying, ‘Sir, I put myself under your protection!’
“No man was ever more effectually rebuked. His manner was instantly
softened; he met my salutation with an inclination of his body, and
after a civil question or two, as if to make amends for his sanguinary
mandate, rode off towards the fort, to which he had enquired the way.
“Though I had delivered up my arms I had not adverted to a cartouche
box which I wore about my waist, and which, having once belonged to
his British Majesty, presented in front the gilded letters, G. R.
Exasperated at this trophy on the body of a rebel, one of the soldiers
seized the belt with great violence, and in the act to unbuckle it, had
nearly jerked me off my legs. To appease the offended loyalty of the
honest Scot I submissively took it off and handed it to him, being
conscious that I had no longer any right to it. At this moment a Hessian
came up. He was not a private, neither did he look like a regular
officer. He was some retainer, however, to the German troops, and as
much of a brute as any one I have ever seen in human form. The wretch
came near enough to elbow us, and, half unsheathing his sword, with a
countenance that bespoke a most vehement desire to use it against us, he
grunted out in broken English, ‘Eh! you rebel! you damn rebel!’
“I had by this time entire confidence in our Scotchmen, and therefore
regarded the caitiff with the same indifference that I should have
viewed a caged wild beast, though with much greater abhorrence. * * *
“We were marched to an old stable, where we found about forty or fifty
prisoners already collected, principally officers, of whom I only
particularly recollect Lieutenant Brodhead of our battalion. We remained
on the outside of the building; and, for nearly an hour, sustained a
series of the most intolerable abuse. This was chiefly from the officers
of the light infantry, for the most part young and insolent puppies,
whose worthlessness was apparently their recommendation to a service,
which placed them in the post of danger, and in the way of becoming
food for powder, their most appropriate destination next to that of the
gallows. The term ‘rebel,’ with the epithet ‘damned’ before it, was
the mildest we received. We were twenty times told, sometimes with
a taunting affectation of concern, that we should every man of us be
hanged. * * * The indignity of being ordered about by such contemptible
whipsters, for a moment unmanned me, and I was obliged to apply my
handkerchief to my eyes. This was the first time in my life that I had
been the victim of brutal, cowardly oppression, and I was unequal to the
shock; but my elasticity of mind was soon restored, and I viewed it with
the indignant contempt it deserved.
“For the greater convenience of guarding us we were now removed to the
barn of Colonel Morris’s house, which had been the head-quarters of our
army. * * * It was a good, new building. * * * There were from a hundred
and fifty to two hundred, comprising a motley group, to be sure. Men and
officers of all descriptions, regulars and militia, troops continental
and state, and some in hunting shirts, the mortal aversion of a red
coat. Some of the officers had been plundered of their hats, and some
of their coats, and upon the new society into which we were introduced,
with whom a showy exterior was all in all, we were certainly not
calculated to make a very favorable impression. I found Captain Tudor
here, of our regiment, who, if I mistake not, had lost his hat. * * * It
was announced, by an huzza, that the fort had surrendered.
“The officer who commanded the guard in whose custody we now were, was
an ill-looking, low-bred fellow of this dashing corps of light infantry.
* * * As I stood as near as possible to the door for the sake of air,
the enclosure in which we were being extremely crowded and unpleasant,
I was particularly exposed to his brutality; and repelling with some
severity one of his attacks, for I was becoming desperate and careless
of safety, the ruffian exclaimed, ‘Not a word, sir, or damme, I’ll give
you my butt!’ at the same time clubbing his fusee, and drawing it back
as if to give the blow, I fully expected it, but he contented himself
with the threat. I observed to him that I was in his power, and disposed
to submit to it, though not proof against every provocation. * * * There
were several British officers present, when a Serjeant-Major came to
take an account of us, and particularly a list of such of us as were
officers. This Serjeant, though not uncivil, had all that animated,
degagè impudence of air, which belongs to a self complacent,
non-commissioned officer of the most arrogant army in the world; and
with his pen in his hand and his paper on his knee applied to each of
us in his turn for his rank. * * * The sentinels were withdrawn to the
distance of about ten or twelve feet, and we were told that such of us
as were officers might walk before the door. This was a great relief to
us.”
The officers were lodged in the barn loft quite comfortably. A young
Lieutenant Beckwith had them in charge, and was a humane gentleman. In
the evening he told them he would send them, if possible, a bottle of
wine, but at any rate, a bottle of spirits. He kept his word as to the
spirits, which was all the supper the party in the loft had. “In the
morning a soldier brought me Mr. B.’s compliments, and an invitation
to come down and breakfast with him. * * * I thankfully accepted his
invitation, and took with me Forrest and Tudor. * * * He gave us a dish
of excellent coffee, with plenty of very good toast, which was the only
morsel we had eaten for the last twenty-four hours. * * * Our fellow
sufferers got nothing until next morning. * * *
“All the glory that was going (in the battle of Fort Washington) had, in
my idea of what had passed, been engrossed by the regiment of Rawlings,
which had been actively engaged, killed a number of the enemy, and lost
many themselves.
“About two o’clock Mr. B. sent me a plate amply supplied with corned
beef, cabbage, and the leg and wing of a turkey, with bread in
proportion.”
Though Mr. Graydon calls this gentleman Mr. Becket, it seems that there
was no young officer of that name at the battle of Fort Washington.
Becket appears to be a mistake for Lieutenant Onslow Beckwith. The
prisoners were now marched within six miles of New York and Graydon’s
party of officers were well quartered in a house. “Here,” he continues,
“for the first time we drew provisions for the famished soldiers. * *
* Previously to entering the city we were drawn up for about an hour on
the high ground near the East River. Here, the officers being separated
from the men, we were conducted into a church, where we signed a
parole.”
At this place a non-commissioned British officer, who had seen him at
the ordinary kept by his widowed mother in Philadelphia, when he was a
boy, insisted on giving him a dollar.
“Quarters were assigned for us in the upper part of the town, in what
was called ‘The holy ground.’ * * * I ventured to take board at four
dollars per week with a Mrs. Carroll. * * * Colonel Magaw, Major West,
and others, boarded with me.”
He was fortunate in obtaining his trunk and mattress. Speaking of the
prisons in which the privates were confined he says: “I once and
once only ventured to penetrate into these abodes of human misery and
despair. But to what purpose repeat my visit, when I had neither relief
to administer nor comfort to bestow? * * * I endeavoured to comfort them
with the hope of exchange, but humanity forbade me to counsel them to
rush on sure destruction. * * * Our own condition was a paradise to
theirs. * * * Thousands of my unhappy countrymen were consigned to slow,
consuming tortures, equally fatal and potent to destruction.”
The American officers on parole in New York prepared a memorial to Sir
William Howe on the condition of these wretched sufferers, and it was
signed by Colonels Magaw, Miles, and Atlee. This is, no doubt, the paper
of which Colonel Ethan Allen writes. Captain Graydon was commissioned to
deliver this document to Sir William Howe. He says: “The representation
which had been submitted to General Howe in behalf of the suffering
prisoners was more successful than had been expected. * * * The
propositions had been considered by Sir William Howe, and he was
disposed to accede to them. These were that the men should be sent
within our lines, where they should be receipted for, and an equal
number of the prisoners in our hands returned in exchange. * * * Our
men, no longer soldiers (their terms for which they had enlisted having
expired) and too debilitated for service, gave a claim to sound men,
immediately fit to take the field, and there was moreover great danger
that if they remained in New York the disease with which they were
infected might be spread throughout the city. At any rate hope was
admitted into the mansions of despair, the prison doors were thrown
open, and the soldiers who were yet alive and capable of being moved
were conveyed to our nearest posts, under the care of our regimental
surgeons, to them a fortunate circumstance, since it enabled them to
exchange the land of bondage for that of liberty. * * * Immediately
after the release of our men a new location was assigned to us. On the
22nd of January, 1777, we were removed to Long Island.”