in the plot, and he was sentenced to be hung. The sentence was executed
on the twenty-eighth day of June, in a field near Bowery Lane, in the
presence of twenty thousand people.
On the same day four of the enemy's warships dropped anchor in the bay.
The next morning there were forty ships, and they continued to arrive
until one hundred and thirty vessels of war and transports could be
distinctly seen with a glass. The British troops were landed on Staten
Island, where nearly all the people were Tories, although they had
professed to be patriots.
While these warlike preparations were going forward, the American
Congress was discussing the most important subject ever considered by a
legislative body--that of American independence; and on the 4th of July,
1776, the Declaration of Independence was adopted.
The discussion upon the adoption of this important document was
conducted in secret session. The people outside knew what was before the
Assembly, and there was great excitement. For hours citizens gathered
about the State House, awaiting the decision with the utmost anxiety. A
man was stationed in the steeple of the building to ring the bell when
the decisive vote was declared. The bell was imported from England
twenty-three years before, and bore this inscription:
"Proclaim liberty throughout all the land, unto all the inhabitants
thereof."
When the bell pealed forth the glad news that the Declaration of
Independence was adopted, the joy of the people knew no bounds. The
tidings spread from town to town, and awakened the most hearty response.
On the ninth day of July, Washington caused the Declaration to be read
at the head of each regiment, and it revived their drooping hopes more
than the arrival of ten thousand recruits.
In their outburst of gladness, the soldiers indulged themselves in some
excesses. There was a leaden statue of George III, in the Bowling Green,
which they tore from its pedestal, and cut up, to run into bullets.
Washington thought it was an unnecessary act of violence, denoting
insubordination and recklessness, and he rebuked the deed by an order,
in which he said:
"The general hopes and trusts that every officer and man will endeavor
to live and act as becomes a Christian soldier, defending the dearest
rights and liberties of his country."
One day, before the engagement came on, General Putnam was crossing a
field, which is now the "Park," when his attention was called to a
company of artillery on drill. Observing the company for several
minutes, he remarked to the commander:
"A well-disciplined company!"
"With some more practice they will be," the commander replied modestly.
"Have they attained to this excellence of drill under your command?"
General Putnam asked, noticing that the officer could not be more than
twenty years of age.
"Yes, sir; I have enjoyed some opportunities to study military science."
"Where?"
"First in the West Indies, where I was born. I was a merchant's clerk
there, but longed for a military life, and finally I seized upon the
first opportunity to study such books as I could find. After I came to
this country my desire for military service did not abate, and I joined
Captain Fleming's company."
"General Washington must know you," responded Putnam as he moved on.
We have introduced this incident here because the young commander was
Alexander Hamilton, who became identified with the history of our
country. He came to this country at fifteen; entered King's College,
where he was the best scholar; joined one of the first volunteer
companies organized in New York, and became so efficient that he was
made captain of the artillery company he was drilling when General
Putnam met him. He was not twenty years old at that time. Subsequently
he became one of Washington's wisest counsellors. "In him were united,"
says another, "the patriot, the soldier, the statesman, the jurist, the
orator, and philosopher, and he was great in them all."
British ships of war continued to arrive, bringing Hessians and Scotch
Highlanders to swell the king's army. Still no particular movement to
capture the city was made.
On the 21st of July, Washington heard from Sir Henry Clinton's fleet.
Clinton left the British army in Boston, in December, 1775, and
unexpectedly appeared in the harbor of New York, as we have stated.
However, after a conference with Governor Tryon, he sailed south, saying
that he had no intention of attacking New York.
Clinton soon appeared in Charleston Harbor, part of an expedition
against South Carolina, under Sir Peter Parker, and in a few days joined
in attacking the fort, six miles below the city. The fort was commanded
by Sir William Moultrie. It was attacked with both fleet and army, on
the twenty-eighth day of June, by one of the most terrible bombardments
ever known at that time. An experienced British officer said, "It was
the most furious fire I ever heard or saw."
A few days before, General Charles Lee advised abandoning the fort.
"A mere slaughter-house!" he exclaimed to Governor Rutledge, who was a
true patriot. "A mere slaughter-house! A British man-of-war will knock
it to pieces in half an hour!"
"Nevertheless, holding that fort is necessary to the defence of the city
and State," answered Rutledge. "The fort must be held." He sent for
Moultrie.
"General Moultrie, what do you think about giving up the fort?" he
inquired, repeating the advice of General Lee.
Moultrie was indignant, and he replied:
"No man, sir, can have a higher opinion of British ships and seamen than
I have. But there are others who love the smell of gunpowder as well
as they do. Give us a plenty of powder and ball, sir, and let them come
on as soon as they please."
"You shall have plenty of powder and ball," answered Rutledge, as he
sent Moultrie back to his post.
The guns of Fort Moultrie riddled the British ships, and covered their
decks with the dead and dying. One hundred and seventy-five men were
killed on board the fleet, and as many more wounded. The Americans lost
but thirty-five, and held the fort. A braver garrison never met a foe.
Sergeant Jaspar saw the flag shot away, and leaped down upon the beach,
snatched it up, and returned it to its place, shouting:
"Hurrah, boys! Liberty and America forever!" Governor Rutledge rewarded
him with a sword.
Sergeant McDonald was terribly shattered by a cannon-ball, and he called
out with his dying breath, "I die, but don't let the cause of liberty
die with me!"
The enemy's fleet was driven off in a shattered condition. The commander
was so deeply humiliated that even his black pilots insulted him. Weems
says that he called to one of them:
"Cudjo, what water have you there?"
"What water, massa? what water? Why, salt water, sure sir! sea water
always salt water, ain't he, massa?"
"You black rascal, I knew it was salt water; I only wanted to know how
_much_ water you have there?"
"How much water here, massa? how much water here? God bless me, massa!
Where I going get quart pot for measure him?"
The commander, even in his chagrin and trouble, could not but laugh at
Cudjo's idea of measuring the Atlantic ocean with a quart pot.
This discomfited fleet returned to New York and joined the British army.
When the news of the signal victory of the patriots at Moultrie reached
Washington, he announced it to the army, and said:
"With such a bright example before us of what can be done by brave men
fighting in defence of their country, we shall be loaded with a double
share of shame and infamy if we do not acquit ourselves with courage,
and manifest a determined resolution to conquer or die."
A detachment of the army was sent to construct works from Wallabout Bay
to Red Hook. Washington rode out one day to inspect the defences, when
he approached a subaltern officer who was directing his men to raise a
heavy timber to its place. Instead of lending a helping hand, the
conceited fellow stood, shouting:
"Hurrah, boys, _n-o-w_, right _up_, _h-e-a-v-e_," etc.
"Why do you not lend a helping hand?" said Washington, whom the officer
did not know.
"What, sir! I lend a helping hand?" exclaimed the official sprig. "Why,
sir, I'll have you know that I am _corporal_!"
Washington leaped from his saddle, laid hold of the timber with the men,
and helped lift it to its place. Then turning to the "corporal," he said
sarcastically:
"Mr. Corporal, my name's George Washington. I have come over from New
York to inspect the works here; so soon as you have done this piece of
work, you will meet me at your commander's, General Sullivan's
quarters."
Washington despised officers who felt above their business.
On a flying visit to Connecticut, he failed to reach his destination on
Saturday night. Early Sunday morning he completed the few remaining
miles of his journey. On his way, a tithing man came out of a house and
inquired of the coachman:
"Is there any necessity of your travelling on the Lord's Day?"
Washington ordered his coachman to stop, and replied:
"I have no intention of breaking the laws of Connecticut; they meet my
most cordial approbation. But I was disappointed in not being able to
reach my destination last night, where I shall attend church."
Washington waited and waited for the enemy to move, and wondered that he
did not. Putnam wrote to Gates:
"Is it not strange that those invincible troops who were to lay waste
all the country, with their fleets and army, dare not put their feet on
the main?"
About this time General Washington made the following address to his
army:
"The time is now near at hand which must determine whether Americans are
to be free men or slaves; whether they are to have any property they can
call their own; whether their houses and farms are to be pillaged and
destroyed, and themselves consigned to a state of wretchedness, from
which no human efforts will deliver them. The fate of unborn millions
will now depend, under God, on the courage and conduct of this army. Our
cruel and unrelenting enemy leaves us only the choice of a brave
resistance or the most abject submission. We have, therefore, to resolve
to conquer or die. Our own, our country's, honor calls upon us for a
vigorous and manly action; and if we now shamefully fail, we shall
become infamous to the whole world. Let us then rely upon the goodness
of our cause, and the aid of the Supreme Being, in whose hands victory
is, to animate and encourage us to great and noble actions."
The American army had grown by this time to over twenty thousand men
poorly equipped and fed, though not more than fifteen thousand were
available for immediate action. Congress was slow to provide supplies,
and everything dragged. Many of the men carried only a spade, shovel or
pick-axe. At the call of the country, they responded with shovels in
hand, having no guns. They could throw up works, though destitute of
arms to repel the foe. It was this destitute condition of our army that
led a British officer to write home derisively:
"The rebels are armed with scythes and pitchforks."
To rebuke the growing vice and recklessness of the army, Washington
issued the following order:
"The general is sorry to be informed that the foolish and wicked
practice of profane cursing and swearing, a vice heretofore little known
in an American army, is growing into fashion. He hopes the officers will
by example, as well as influence, endeavor to check it, and that both
they and the men will reflect that we can have little hope of the
blessing of Heaven on our arms if we insult it by our impiety and folly;
added to this, it is a vice so mean and low, without any temptation,
that every man of sense and character detests and despises it."
On the 17th of August Washington observed a movement of the enemy.
"They are embarking," he said to one of his aides, "bound for some
point. Thirty thousand of them will be able to crush us if, as General
Lee says, 'God is on the side of heavy battalions.'"
He was not long in doubt concerning their destination, for they landed
at Long Island.
"They mean to capture Brooklyn Heights," exclaimed Washington; "their
designs are clear enough now."
"The city is at their mercy if they once capture that position," replied
"Old Put," as the soldiers called General Putnam. "They must not be
suffered to gain that position."
"You must go to General Sullivan's aid with six battalions, all the
force we can spare," said Washington. "There is no time to be lost."
In anticipation of such a movement, Washington had stationed a body of
troops on Brooklyn Heights under General Greene; but the latter was
taken sick, and General Sullivan succeeded him, and now General Putnam
was placed in command. No more men could be sent to Brooklyn Heights,
because Washington expected the British fleet would attack the city.
He received the following message from General Livingston of New Jersey:
"I saw movements of the enemy on Staten Island, and sent over a spy at
midnight, who brought back the following intelligence: Twenty thousand
men have embarked to make an attack on Long Island, and up the Hudson.
Fifteen thousand remained on Staten Island, to attack Bergen Point,
Elizabethtown Point, and Amboy." The spy heard the orders read and the
conversation of the generals. "They appear very determined," added he,
"and will put all to the sword."
Again, in expectation of an immediate attack, he addressed the army to
inspire them with determined valor, and said:
"The enemy have landed upon Long Island, and the hour is fast
approaching on which the honor and success of this army, and the safety
of our bleeding country, depend. Remember, officers and soldiers, that
you are free men, fighting for the blessings of liberty; that slavery
will be your portion, and that of your posterity, if you do not acquit
yourselves like men. It is the general's express orders that, if any
man attempt to skulk, lie down, or retreat without orders, he be
instantly shot down for an example."
Fifteen thousand British troops landed and advanced to seize the
Heights. It was on the twenty-first day of August, 1776. A terrific
battle of seven days followed, in which the slaughter and suffering were
fearful. Alternate victory and defeat were experienced by both sides.
Sometimes it was a hand-to-hand fight with bayonets. As Washington
beheld a detachment of his heroic men pierced to death by Hessian
bayonets, he wrung his hands in an agony of spirit, and exclaimed:
"O good God, what brave fellows I must this day lose!"
There were but five thousand Americans pitted in this battle against
fifteen thousand British, and yet they fought seven days.
On the twenty-eighth day of August, the British moved their line of
battle to within a mile of the Yankee breast-works on the Heights. The
capture of the Heights, with all the American soldiers, seemed
inevitable. Between them and New York was the East River, which the
enemy's fleet commanded. Before them was the foe, numbering three to
one. To human view there was no hope for the brave little army of
patriots.
But on that night a storm arose, and a dense fog enveloped the Heights.
Early in the evening the rain began to fall, and, together, fog and rain
created a dismal scene. At the same time a brisk breeze sprang up,
sufficient to waft the boats across to the New York side. If anything
more were needed to prove that God was favoring the smallest battalions,
it was the fact that the night was clear on the New York side of the
river.
"God is propitious to-night," said Washington to Putnam in a hopeful
tone. "Under cover of this darkness we must cross the river and save our
army."
"Our only salvation," replied Putnam.
Washington superintended the retreat personally, and, as the fog did not
clear away until ten o'clock on the following day, his whole force, with
guns and ammunition, were carried across the river before the enemy
discovered the retreat. This retreat was regarded as one of the most
signal achievements of the war. Sparks says, in his "Life of
Washington:"
"The retreat, in its plan, execution, and success, has been regarded as
one of the most remarkable military events in history, and as reflecting
the highest credit on the talents and skill of the commander. So intense
was the anxiety of Washington, so unceasing his exertions, that for
forty-eight hours he did not close his eyes, and rarely dismounted from
his horse."
"We cannot hold New York," said Washington, at a council of war he
called immediately. "We are at the mercy of the enemy on every hand."
"From Brooklyn Heights British guns can lay this city in ashes," added
Putnam.
"That is true; but the Howes will never order that destruction so long
as half the citizens are Tories," replied Washington.
"Sure enough; that is a voucher against such a measure," responded
Putnam. "But if thirty thousand well-armed and well-fed British troops,
having possession of all the land and water around Manhattan Island,
can't capture this small and undisciplined army, they don't deserve the
name of soldiers."
"And now our men are disheartened," continued Washington. "We lost
nearly two thousand men, killed, wounded, and missing, on Brooklyn
Heights, and many of those who escaped have deserted. We must evacuate
the city."
"And leave it in flames," added Putnam.
"Yes, apply the torch," said another; "we must do it in self-defence.
What a strong position against us it will afford to the enemy!"
Washington saw reasons for adopting this extreme measure, but he could
not take the responsibility. He did write to Congress about it, however,
as follows:
"If we should be obliged to abandon the town, ought it to stand as
winter quarters for the enemy? They would derive great convenience from
it on the one hand, and much property would be destroyed on the other.
At the present, I dare say, the enemy mean to preserve it if they can."
On the tenth day of September, Congress voted to leave the fate of the
city in Washington's hands, and he left it unharmed.
Concerning the alarming desertions after the retreat from Brooklyn
Heights, he wrote, in humane extenuation of the deserters' offence:
"Men just dragged from the tender scenes of domestic life, and
unaccustomed to the din of arms, totally unacquainted with every kind of
military skill, are timid, and ready to fly from their own shadows.
Besides, the sudden change in their manner of living brings on an
unconquerable desire to return to their homes."
Establishing his headquarters at King's Bridge, Washington superintended
the retreat from New York, which was accomplished without the loss of
anything except his heaviest cannon.
Colonel Humphreys wrote: "I had frequent opportunities that day of
beholding Washington issuing orders, encouraging the troops, flying on
his horse covered with foam, wherever his presence was most necessary.
Without his extraordinary exertions the guards must have been inevitably
lost, and it is possible the entire corps would have been cut in
pieces."
He made a noble stand at Harlem Heights for three weeks, where he had
several encounters with the foe. In one of these, two of his most
brilliant officers were killed, Colonel Knowlton and Major Leith.
Knowlton's last words were, "Did we drive the enemy in?" Speaking of
Colonel Knowlton reminds us of an incident.
Soon after the retreat from Brooklyn, Washington said to Knowlton:
"It is important for me to know the strength of the enemy on Long
Island. Can you name a trusty man who will find out?"
"I can," answered Knowlton. "If he will consent, he is just the man for
such service."
"Send him to me immediately."
Within a short time Nathan Hale of Connecticut, one of the bravest and
most promising young officers in the army, presented himself to the
general.
"Can you ascertain for me the number and strength of the British on Long
Island?" asked Washington.
"I think I can," replied Hale; "I am willing to try."
"You understand that it will cost your life if the enemy capture you. It
is serious business."
"I understand. I understood that when I entered the army," was young
Hale's cool and heroic reply.
"Go, then, and quickly as possible obtain the information I so much
need."
Hale went to Long Island in the capacity of a schoolmaster, obtained the
information that Washington desired, and on his return was discovered
and arrested as a spy. Without trial or court-martial he was executed,
in extremely aggravating circumstances.
"A clergyman, whose attendance he desired, was refused him; a Bible, for
a moment's devotion, was not procured though he requested it. Letters
which on the morning of his execution, he wrote to his mother and
sister, were destroyed; and this very extraordinary reason was given by
the provost-martial, 'that the rebels should not know that they had a
man in the army who could die with so much firmness.' Unknown to all
around him, without a single friend to offer him the least consolation,
as amiable and as worthy a young man as America could boast was thus
hung as a spy." His last words were:
"I lament only that I have but one life to give to the cause of liberty
and the rights of man."
Soon after Washington withdrew his defeated army to Harlem Heights, he
heard cannonading at the landing, where breastworks had been thrown up.
Springing upon his horse, he galloped away in the direction of the
firing, and, before he reached the place, he met his soldiers in full
retreat before a squad of British, numbering not more than sixty or
seventy. He drew his sword, and with threats, endeavored to rally them;
but in vain. He was so shocked by their cowardice, and so determined to
repel the foe, that he would have dashed forward to his death, had not
his aides seized the reins of his charger, and turned him in the other
direction.
On the 20th of September, after the British took possession of New York,
a fire started one night in a drinking saloon, where soldiers were
revelling (perhaps celebrating their triumphal entry into the city), and
it spread with great rapidity. The buildings were mostly of wood, so
that the devouring flames licked them up as tinder; and although the
thousands of British soldiers exerted themselves to the utmost to
extinguish the fire, one quarter of the city, about one thousand
buildings, was laid in ashes.
At this time the army in Canada had withdrawn to Crown Point, numbering
about six thousand, one half of them being sick and the other half
disheartened and disaffected. General Washington ordered them to retire
to Ticonderoga for safety and rest. The small-pox was spreading among
them to an alarming degree.
Jealousies among officers, dissatisfaction among soldiers, clashing
interests among the Colonies, and a growing distrust of Washington,
added to the complications of the American cause, and to the trials of
Congress and the commander-in-chief.
Referring to the discordant interests throughout most of the Colonies,
John Adams wrote: "It requires more serenity of temper, a deeper
understanding, and more courage than fell to the lot of Marlborough,
to ride in this whirlwind."
By request, General Lee returned from the South at this time. He was an
accomplished military officer, and his successes at the South added much
to his laurels. Many regarded him superior to Washington. The latter
esteemed him highly as an officer of skill and experience. At a council
of war held soon after his arrival, General Lee said:
"A position is not a good one simply because its approaches are
difficult. No army can maintain itself with the enemy in front and rear,
especially when the enemy's ships command the water on each side, as
they do here. Your recent experience on Long Island and in New York
shows the danger of such position."
"That is very true," answered Washington. "We cannot afford to hazard
too much in the present condition of the army. I have satisfactory
evidence that General Howe's purpose is to surround our camp, and
capture the whole American army."
"And he is not much of a general if he does not do it," responded Lee.
"For my part, I would have nothing to do with the islands to which you
have been clinging so pertinaciously. I would give Mr. Howe a fee-simple
of them."
"Where and when shall we be in a better condition to meet the enemy?"
inquired General George Clinton, a brave but inexperienced officer. "We
must fight the enemy somewhere; why not here?"