REVOLUTIONARY WAR (_continued_), 1778.
Let us now see the effect of the war so far, both in the mother-country
and America. The surrender of Burgoyne’s army caused a great sensation
in England, and efforts were immediately made in several of the large
Scotch and English towns to send out troops to supply the loss; in
London also, where the progress of the war had raised an anti-American
spirit, £20,000 was raised by subscription for that purpose. On the
other hand, subscriptions were also raised to relieve the American
prisoners, who, from the cupidity and heartlessness of those in whose
hands they were placed, were suffering from the want of the very
necessaries of life.
When parliament met in January of this year, the American war was the
first and most important topic of discussion, and Burke and the Duke of
Richmond, Lord North, and the whole of the Rockingham party, entered
more or less into the advocacy of the colonies. As to the war itself,
the loss of life it had occasioned, the enormous expenses which it had
entailed, and the hopelessness of its results, formed a strong argument
in the mouths of all reasonable men. Still the war-party was strong, and
Burgoyne could neither obtain an audience from the king nor get a
hearing in parliament. To increase the inveteracy of feeling also,
congress appeared ready to evade the terms of the convention of
Saratoga. On some plea of suspicion regarding the intentions of the
British officers who objected to the troops embarking at Boston, and had
ordered the transports for their conveyance to Rhode Island instead,
they were detained in the country as prisoners of war.
Nevertheless, plans of conciliation were proposed, for which purpose two
bills were introduced into the house; the one renouncing all intention
of levying taxes in America—conceding, in effect, the whole subject of
dispute; the other authorising the appointment of three commissioners,
who in conjunction with the naval and military commanders, should be
empowered to treat for the re-establishment of the royal authority.
“Great Britain,” in fact, as the American historian justly says, “had
reason to be weary of a war which had cost her already more than 20,000
men and five millions sterling in expenditure. Five hundred and fifty
British vessels, besides those which had been recaptured, had been taken
by the American cruisers. These cruisers so infested even the British
seas, that convoys had become necessary from one British port to
another. To this must be added the loss of the American trade, a large
mass of American debts held in suspense by the war, the exile of the
American loyalists, and the confiscation of their property. The British
West Indies suffered for want of their accustomed supplies of provisions
and timber from the North American colonies; and the British merchant
complained that the slave-trade was reduced by the war to one-fifth of
its former amount. And to all these was now added the fear of French
intervention and French war.”
An address also was moved to his majesty, which spoke freely the
sentiments of this party, expressing “strong indignation at the conduct
of his ministers, who had brought about the present unhappy state of his
dominions, who had abused his confidence, and by their unfortunate
counsels dismembered his empire, disgraced his arms, and weakened his
naval power; whilst, by delaying to reconcile the difference which they
had excited amongst his people, they had taken no means of counteracting
a fatal alliance with the ancient rival of Great Britain.”
It was in the great debate which followed on this plain-speaking address
that Earl Chatham, when protesting vehemently against any measures which
might tend to the dismemberment of the empire, was seized with that
fainting-fit in the midst of the Lords which was the prelude of his
death eleven days afterwards.
In vain was the eloquence of the Duke of Richmond and other members of
the opposition—the motion for the address was lost; nevertheless, so
earnest was the feeling on the subject, that a noble protest, signed by
twenty peers, was entered; “because,” said they, “we think that the
rejection of the address at this time may appear to indicate in this
house a desire of continuing that plan of ignorance, concealment, deceit
and delusion, by which the sovereign and his people have already been
brought into so many and so great calamities; and because we hold it
absolutely necessary that both sovereign and people should be
undeceived, and that they should distinctly and authentically be made
acquainted with the state of their affairs, which is faithfully
represented in this proposed address.”
The Americans had still greater reason even than the British to deplore
the war, from which their sufferings were so great in every way. The
Newfoundland fisheries and the trade to the West Indies, both so vitally
important to the New England colonies, were at an end. Nine hundred
vessels had fallen into the hands of the enemy. The coasting trade had
been destroyed, and Boston and the other New England seaports, cut off
from their usual supplies, experienced great scarcity of food, enhanced
by internal embargoes which now began to be laid on by the different
states. Add to which, great public debts rapidly accumulating, and a
constantly depreciating currency. The war had been carried on at great
expense; the frequent draughts of militia, besides the interruption to
agriculture, had proved a most costly and wasteful expedient. Besides
all this, there had been great want of system and accountability in
every department; and peculation, a customary incident of all wars, had
not failed to improve so convenient an opportunity. Already the
liabilities contracted by congress amounted to upwards of eight millions
sterling; nor indeed was this the whole amount; the private debt of
Massachusetts alone amounted to about one million, besides her share of
the general liabilities. The loss of life too, had been enormous; vast
quantities had died of sickness, of suffering from insufficiency of food
and needful comforts and clothing. A sadder or more disastrous war could
hardly have been conceived.
Nevertheless, spite of all these unlooked-for calamities and this
unimagined expenditure, the war-spirit at the commencement of 1778 was
far more extensively spread than had ever before been the case. The very
calamities of the war, which had now entered, as it were, into every
individual home, had estranged the national heart from the
mother-country. Any conciliation, any termination of the struggle, short
of entire separation from England, would not be listened to. Besides,
when the Americans looked at the position of affairs after a three
years’ war, spite of all their losses and sufferings, they saw no cause
for despair—as indeed, there was none. The British after all, retained
possession but of Long Island and Staten Island, of the insular cities
of Newport in Rhode Island and New York, and of Philadelphia on the
mainland. As yet they had no interior hold on the country, and though a
strong loyalist party existed in various states, and loyalist troops had
been raised in Pennsylvania, New York and among the Catholics of
Maryland, still the whole number did not amount to above 3,600 men, and
their influence tended rather to increase the bitterness of hatred
against Britain, who had thus caused civil war in the land, than in
reality to weaken or endanger their cause.
While the British parliament was debating the subject of conciliation,
the colonies were preparing to carry on the war with renewed vigour. The
cabal against Washington had ended in the disgrace of its originators,
and that great man now stood higher than he had hitherto done in the
regard and confidence of the nation. Advantageous changes were made in
all the war departments, in accordance with Washington’s wishes, and to
the displacement of his enemies. Nathaniel Greene, a favourite officer
of Washington’s, was appointed quarter-master-general; Colonel Jeremiah
Wadsworth accepted the office of commissary-general, in the place of
Mifflin, one of the cabal; while General Conway, its head, and a man of
weak character, was displaced as army inspector by Baron Steuben, a
Prussian officer, who had lately offered his services to congress, and
who soon introduced a complete system of exercise and tactics into the
American army. By the new organisation the colonial force would have
amounted to 60,000 men, but not being fully carried out, to about only
half that number; no troops were demanded from Georgia and South
Carolina, in consequence of their great slave population. Two
independent corps were also raised; the one under Pulaski, the Pole; the
other under Armand, a French officer; a third entirely composed of
cavalry, was raised by Henry Lee, of Virginia, already distinguished in
the war. The fortifications of the Highlands were vigorously prosecuted
under the direction of Kosciusko.
Again large issues of paper money were made, which, causing still
further depreciation, led to the greatest perplexity and embarrassment.
The reduced pay of the officers, insufficient for their simplest needs,
must have compelled many able and long-tried officers to throw up their
commissions, had not Washington induced congress to promise half-pay for
seven years to all officers who served to the end of the war, and a
gratuity to the common soldiers.
About the middle of April, at the very moment when all was in active
operation to carry on the war with renewed vigour, the first tidings of
the conciliatory bills reached New York, and ex-governor Tryon and the
Tory party used their utmost endeavours to diffuse them throughout the
colonies. To counteract the influence of these measures, congress
ordered them to be immediately published in every newspaper of the
States, accompanied by the printed resolutions of their body on the
subject. “There was a time,” said Governor Turnbull, “when this step
from our acknowledged parent would have been accepted with joy and
gratitude, but that time is irrevocably past. No peace can be concluded
now with Great Britain on any other terms than the most absolute,
perfect independence. Nevertheless,” concluded he, “the union by a
lasting and honourable peace is the ardent wish of every American. The
British nation will then find us as affectionate and valuable friends as
we now are determined and fatal enemies, and will derive from that
friendship more solid and real advantage than the most sanguine can
expect from conquest.”
On the 22nd of April, congress officially declared, that any man or body
of men, who should presume to make any separate or partial agreement
with the commission under the crown of Great Britain, should be
considered as enemies of the United States; that the United States would
enter into no treaty with Great Britain until her fleets and armies were
withdrawn, or the independence of America acknowledged.
Scarcely were these resolutions published, than, as if to give them
value with the public, Simon Deane arrived at Yorktown, where congress
was then sitting, in a royal frigate from Paris bringing with him for
ratification two treaties of alliance and commerce between France and
the United States; the last of which was signed the 30th of January, and
the former on the 6th of February. On the 4th of May, they were ratified
by congress, and the utmost joy and exultation prevailed throughout the
United States. There was an end now to the hatred of France in America;
her independence was acknowledged by that nation, and congress extolled
“the extraordinary equity, generosity and unparalleled honour of the
French monarch.”
By the treaty of alliance it was stipulated that in case of war
occurring between France and England, the two parties should aid each
other with counsel and with arms, and that neither should conclude truce
nor peace with Great Britain without consent of the other. This treaty
being considered equivalent to a declaration of war between France and
Great Britain, the English ambassador was recalled from Paris, and
active preparations for war were made by both nations.
On May 8th, Sir William Howe having at his own request resigned the
command of the American army, Sir Henry Clinton arrived at Philadelphia
to take his place, and early in June the three commissioners appointed
under Lord North’s Conciliatory Bill—the Earl of Carlisle, William Eden,
brother of the late governor of Maryland, afterwards Lord Auckland, and
Governor Johnson—arrived at the same city a few days before the British
troops evacuated. The day after their arrival, a passport being refused
by Washington to Dr. Ferguson, the secretary of the commission, a letter
was despatched by them, together with the late acts of parliament and
other papers, directed to congress. A suspension of hostilities was
proposed, and as the basis of a final adjustment of the contest, an
extension of the privileges of trade hitherto allowed to the colonies
was promised; no military force was to be kept up in any colony without
the consent of its assembly; the continental bills of credit were to be
taken up and ultimately discharged; the colonies were to be represented
in parliament, and the British government in the colonial
assemblies;—almost everything was to be conceded excepting the
acknowledgment of independence.
These concessions came too late. Two years before they would have been
accepted with gratitude. They were now rejected; it could not have been
otherwise. Congress gave a very summary reply in the words of the
resolution already stated, and firmly refused to treat in any way with
Great Britain, unless she withdrew her troops or acknowledged the
independence of the States. The commissioners returned a long and
argumentative reply, to which congress made no answer.
In the meantime a French fleet, under the command of Count D’Estaing,
being despatched to America with the design of blockading the British
fleet in the Delaware, and Philadelphia being no longer safe quarters
for the British army, active preparations were made for its evacuation.
On the 18th of June, accordingly, Sir Henry Clinton marched out of
Philadelphia with about 12,000 men, while the baggage and a great amount
of stores and a considerable number of non-combatants were sent to New
York by water, whither also the army was bound by land. Washington,
already aware of this intended evacuation, broke up his camp at Valley
Forge, and while with his main army, the number of which considerably
exceeded that of the British, he cautiously followed the enemy, he
despatched General Maxwell with a brigade to co-operate with the New
Jersey militia in harassing them, and throwing every possible impediment
in their way, so that time might be given him to bring up his full force
and to profit by any opportunity which offered. The wish of the
commander-in-chief was to bring on a general engagement, but in this
wish he was overruled by a council of officers.
The progress of the British was very slow, and many were the
difficulties which they encountered; the weather was rainy and the heat
intense, and they were encumbered with so enormous a quantity of
baggage, that their line of march through the narrow roads of the
country occupied twelve miles. The cause of this quantity of baggage, as
far as provisions were concerned, was a matter of prudence with General
Clinton, who knew that no subsistence was to be obtained for his troops
in the hostile country through which they had to march. On the 25th of
June the two armies were so near each other, that Washington despatched
General Lee, now but recently exchanged, with two brigades to press upon
Clinton’s left, and prevent him from occupying the strong position of
the Nevisink Hills, near Middletown, which he was then approaching. On
the 28th, Clinton encamped at Monmouth, now Freehold, twelve miles from
Middletown, and Lee, who was six miles in advance of Washington,
received orders from his commander to attack the enemy, himself
promising to bring up the main army to support it. Washington,
accordingly advancing for this purpose, was astonished to meet Lee
retreating; according to his own account, having merely ordered his men
to retreat for the purpose of gaining a more favourable position.
Washington, however, incensed at perceiving what appeared to him flight
rather than any other movement, severely reprimanded the general, and
ordered the line of battle to be immediately formed. This was done; the
battle was renewed till the darkness of night closed the combat. The
Americans lay on their arms, fully determined to attack the British in
the morning; but availing themselves of the cover of night, the British
retired with profound silence to the high grounds of Nevisink, which it
had been Washington’s object to prevent them gaining, and where they
were now safe from attack. The number of killed and wounded on both
sides has been very differently stated; but in both armies many died
without a single wound, from fatigue and the excessive heat of the
weather, which on that day was unusually extreme; fifty-nine English
soldiers are said to have died from this cause. Several officers of
great ability were killed also on both sides.
As regarded General Lee, the day after the battle he wrote a very angry
letter to Washington, on the subject of the reprimand which he had
received, and again, in answer to Washington’s reply, wrote a second of
a similar character. The consequence was the arrest of Lee, and his
trial by court-martial, on the charges of disobedience to orders,
misbehaviour before the enemy, and disrespect to the commander-in-chief.
Of a portion of these charges he was found guilty, and suspended from
command for twelve months. He, however, never re-entered the American
army, and died at Philadelphia shortly before the conclusion of the war.
Immediately after the battle of Freehold, Clinton proceeded from his
position on Nevisink Hills to Sandy Hook, where, fortunately for him,
the fleet of Lord Howe, which had been detained in the Delaware by
contrary winds, had arrived only the evening before. By these means he
was enabled to reach New York in safety, totally unconscious of a new
danger from which he was so opportunely removed.
A new enemy was now approaching the scene of action. Two days after the
British fleet had sailed, news arrived that Count D’Estaing was off the
Delaware, with a French fleet of twelve ships of the line and four
frigates, with 11,000 French troops on board. Had he been only
eight-and-forty hours earlier he might have met the British transports,
heavily laden as they were, totally unconscious of this new danger, and
convoyed only by two ships of the line, and their destruction would have
been inevitable; while the English army, unable to proceed to New York,
would have been enclosed by the Americans on the one hand, and on the
other, cut off from supplies by the French fleet, and a second surrender
must have been the consequence. Two days made all the difference.
The arrival of the French fleet was, however, a cause of great
exultation to the Americans. With it also came out M. Gerard, late
secretary to the king’s council, as ambassador to the United States, and
soon after Benjamin Franklin, still in France, was appointed to the same
office in that country.
D’Estaing, having failed to surprise the British fleet in the Delaware,
proceeded without loss of time to Sandy Hook, and came to anchor off New
York Harbour, on July 11th. A joint attack on the British by land and
sea was now decided upon, and for this purpose Washington crossed the
Hudson with his army, and encamped at White Plains. The utmost alarm
prevailed among the British and the loyalists of New York. The British
fleet was not in the best condition for this formidable encounter. Most
of the ships of the line, having been long on service, were out of
condition and badly manned; they had, however, the advantage of
position, being within the harbour which is formed by Sandy Hook, and
the entrance to which is covered by a bar. The French fleet was in
excellent condition, and among its ships of the line were several of
great force and weight of gun. These heavy ships were the salvation of
the British fleet, and the ruin of the French enterprise. The New York
pilots would not venture to take them across the bar, and after having
lain outside the harbour for about eleven days, the British fleet locked
up within it and looking out anxiously every hour for the arrival of an
expected squadron from England, under Admiral Byron, D’Estaing was seen
to sail away with a favourable wind, and in a few hours was out of
sight. The expected British reinforcements arrived very shortly after
D’Estaing was gone.
This projected attack of the British fleet being necessarily abandoned,
Washington recommended D’Estaing to proceed against Newport in Rhode
Island, which was still held by the British, under General Pigot, with
6,000 men. For the purpose of co-operation in this expedition, which
Washington had anticipated, General Sullivan had been already sent with
a detachment to Providence, where he was joined by 5,000 militia of
Massachusetts and Connecticut, and shortly after by two brigades under
Generals Greene and La Fayette. The utmost enthusiasm prevailed
everywhere, and perfect success was calculated upon. The plan of the
expedition was simple. D’Estaing was to enter the harbour of Newport,
while the army advanced from the other side, and thus place the British
once more between two fires.
The French fleet already occupied Narrangansett Bay, and was in
communication with the American army; nay, even having advanced into
Newport harbour, had compelled the British to burn or sink six of their
frigates, to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy.
On the 10th of August, the American army, 10,000 strong, landed on the
north end of Rhode Island proper, on which Newport stands, expecting to
be joined by 4,000 French troops from the fleet, as had been arranged
with D’Estaing, when all unexpectedly the British fleet under Lord Howe
appeared in sight. This fleet, as soon as released from its blockade in
New York harbour and strengthened by its reinforcements, set sail for
the relief of Newport, where it arrived at this critical moment. No
sooner was this perceived by the French admiral, who knew that his force
was superior to that of the British, than he sailed out to give them
battle, carrying the troops with him. Astonished and disappointed by
this unexpected movement, the American army continued their march
towards Newport and encamped within two miles of the enemy’s works.
Meanwhile, the two admirals striving each to secure the weather-gage,
two days were spent in this contest of seamanship, when a violent storm
arose and separated the two fleets at the very moment when about to
engage. For two days more the tempest raged fearfully, and scattered and
damaged the ships greatly. Five days later the French admiral reappeared
off Newport with two of his ships, one of which was his own, dismasted,
and others seriously injured. The British squadron had also suffered
equally. On the 22nd of August, two days later, D’Estaing, contrary to
the earnest entreaties of the American generals, insisted on giving up
the attempt against Newport, and sailed away to Boston to refit.
The American army in Rhode Island and the people of the northern
colonies in general were indignant at this desertion, and the old hatred
of the French was in such danger of reviving, and indeed did express
itself by a riot in Boston, that it required all Washington’s influence
to allay it; while congress, in order to pacify D’Estaing, who was
becoming angry on his part, passed a resolution approving of his
conduct. In the meantime, General Sullivan, now placed in the most
difficult circumstances in Rhode Island, and deserted by great numbers
of his own troops, commenced a retreat. On the 29th of August, having
already sent off his artillery and baggage, he put his troops in motion,
and though vigorously pursued and attacked on every possible quarter by
the British forces, he had yet taken all his measures so well, that he
arrived without any considerable loss at his old post on the north of
the island, and the next day passed his army over to the mainland in
safety. Nor was his fortunate retreat made too soon, as Sir Henry
Clinton arrived from New York with a strong force immediately
afterwards.
The same day that Sullivan abandoned Rhode Island, Lord Howe entered the
Bay of Boston in pursuit of D’Estaing, whom he however found so securely
defended by the batteries and other measures of defence taken both by
the Americans and the French, that any attack upon him was impossible.
Late in the autumn, the English fleet, which had been sent out under
Admiral Byron to counteract D’Estaing, arrived at New York, having
encountered and been detained by severe tempests. Byron sailed to
Boston, as Howe had done before, to look after and attack the French
admiral; but again a violent storm arose, the fleet was dispersed, and
one of the English ships was wrecked on Cape Cod; after which,
D’Estaing, having now refitted, sailed for the West Indies, the
principal seat of war between France and England, and whither had sailed
also 5,000 British troops from New York, under Commodore Hotham,
escorted by a strong squadron.
The three commissioners who had come over for the purpose of
conciliation having, as we said, produced no effect on congress,
afterwards attempted to corrupt the minds of private individuals, or at
least this charge was proved upon Governor Johnstone. Under this
suspicion congress ordered all the letters written by that gentleman to
his American friends—among whom were General Reed, Francis Dana and
Robert Morris,—to be laid before them. These letters, as regarded
General Reed, proved that a Mrs. Ferguson, a lady of Philadelphia, had
been employed to offer him £10,000 and any office which he might desire
in the colonies, if he would aid in bringing about the proposed
reconciliation. His reply was worthy of an American patriot: “I am not
worth purchasing,” said he; “but such as I am, the king of England is
too poor to buy me.”[22] These discoveries called forth a declaration
from congress that Johnstone was guilty of an attempt at bribery, and
such being the case, it was incompatible with the honour of that body to
hold any intercourse with him. This led to a violent reply from
Johnstone, accompanied by a document from his fellow-commissioners, by
no means calculated to decrease the difference between the two parties.
Congress vouchsafed no reply, making use only of the public press to
utter their sentiments.
Besides the attempt at conciliation, the commissioners endeavoured to
use their influence, with equally little success, in obtaining the
discharge of Burgoyne’s troops, who were still detained in the country,
contrary to capitulation. Whatever the reasoning of congress might be on
this subject, nothing but the quibbles of lawyers could be produced in
support of it; and the unfortunate troops, contrary to all honour, after
having suffered greatly in the north, were marched off to
Charlottesville in Virginia, where they could be more easily guarded and
more cheaply fed. There they were quartered in log-huts, gardens were
allotted to them, and their encampment formed a village. Some of the
officers were afterwards exchanged, but the greater number remained
prisoners to the end of the war.[23]
The last act of the commissioners was the publication of a violent
manifesto, addressed not only to congress and the assemblies, but to the
people at large, intended to separate them from their rulers, by
charging upon them all the miseries and the consequences of the war,
declaring that the contest changed its nature when America estranged
herself from the mother-country and mortgaged herself and her resources
to the enemies of Great Britain; the clergy were reminded that the
French were papists, and the lovers of peace were appealed to against
ambitious men who were subjecting their country to unnecessary warfare.
Forty days were allowed for submission, after which, if the offer were
rejected, the country was threatened with desolation as the future
object of the war. The circulation of this manifesto under flags of
truce was prohibited by congress, but it was published in all the
newspapers with a counter-manifesto and with comments from the pens of
some of their most able men.
As the commissioners had disparaged France in this document, the Marquis
La Fayette, as the representative of his country, sent a challenge to
the Earl of Carlisle, which that nobleman declined to accept, on the
plea that he was responsible only to his sovereign for his public acts.
Shortly after this time the Marquis La Fayette returned to France, in
which country he believed that he could serve the rising interest of
America more effectually than in her armies.
At the end of the forty days, having flung their firebrand into the
country, the commissioners departed, much to the relief of congress, but
not before their threatened warfare of desolation had commenced its
work.
Sir Henry Clinton, finding all quiet at Newport, returned to New York,
whence he despatched Major-General Grey on an expedition against the
southern shores of Massachusetts and the adjacent islands. In Buzzard’s
Bay, a great resort of American privateers, he destroyed about 100
vessels with all the stores in the neighbourhood, burnt the towns of New
Bedford and Fairhaven, and carried off from the inhabitants of the
fertile island of Martha’s Vineyard a vast quantity of sheep and oxen.
But this was little in comparison with his next achievements. He
surprised, in the dead of the night, a sleeping American regiment of
light horse, near Tappan, killed a number of them in cold blood, wounded
many others and took the rest prisoners. The town of Egg-harbour in New
Jersey was burnt, and all the houses and mills and property belonging to
the Whig party in that neighbourhood destroyed; while a detachment under
one Captain Ferguson, guided by deserters, surprised and cut to pieces
the greater portion of Pulaski’s legion. Such was the spirit of ferocity
which existed at this moment in the British soldiery; but horrible as
were these instances of merciless warfare, they were trivial in
comparison with what was going forward in remoter regions, where the
Indian savage became the bloody tool of the American loyalist. All our
readers know the tragedy of Wyoming. It was enacted at this time. We
have already mentioned the settlement of this beautiful valley of the
Susquehannah by a number of the quiet people of Connecticut. It had
greatly flourished and become very populous, although from the first it
had been a cause of dispute between Connecticut and Pennsylvania, both
of which states claimed it as belonging to their territory. A few years
before the present time, some Scotch and Dutch settlers from New York
had come to the valley, thirty of whom having been lately seized on
suspicion of being Tories, were sent to Connecticut for trial. Nothing
being proved against them, they were discharged, and immediately, as if
in confirmation of the accusation, they enlisted in the partisan corps
of Butler and the half-blood Indian Brandt, then stationed in the Mohawk
valley, eager for the moment of revenge, which was not far off.
Although Wyoming had been only settled since the last war, it numbered
about 4,000 inhabitants, one-third of whom it had sent out to the
American army, thus leaving itself undefended. This weak state was well
known to the offended party, who induced Butler and Brandt to lead to
Wyoming a body of 1,500 men, partly Indians, and partly loyalists
disguised as such, for the purpose of extermination. On the first rumour
of the probability of such an invasion, a body of men was raised to
garrison the valley; but they were hardly organised when, at the
commencement of July, Butler and his terrible army appeared and
commenced their bloody work by waylaying and murdering some of the
inhabitants. There were four forts in the valley; the upper fort, being
held by a disaffected party, surrendered at once; the few soldiers
hastily mustered marched out to meet the enemy, but being a mere
handful, were surrounded, many were killed on the spot, and others who
were taken prisoners were put to death with every Indian ingenuity of
torture. Such as escaped fled to Fort Wyoming, which was then besieged.
Under pretence of a parley, the principal officer was drawn out with a
number of his men, when the fort was attacked and the greater part
slain. The remnant which remained, on desiring to know what terms might
be expected, received for reply the emphatic words, “The hatchet.” At
last compelled to surrender, the men were put to the sword, and the
women and children shut up in the houses and the barracks, which were
consumed in one general conflagration. The last fort offered no
resistance, and surrendered on the promise of security to life and
property; but the promise was not kept, the unhappy people suffered the
fate of the others. Butler, it is said, marched away with his Tories at
the surrender of the fort, but could not induce the Indians to follow
his example; and frenzied with the rage of blood, they remained behind,
burning the houses, ravaging the fields, killing and maiming the very
cattle with horrible tortures, murdering the men who resisted, and
driving such women and children as escaped with life into the forests
and mountains. According to some historians there were loyalists among
these Indians, who excelled even them in barbarity.
The fate of Wyoming awoke the liveliest indignation; and an expedition
of retaliation was very soon undertaken against the Indians of the Upper
Susquehannah; and though the Indians, aware of their approach, fled, yet
were their harvests destroyed and their fields laid waste. Another
expedition was undertaken against the Canadian settlers, most of whom
were loyalists, west of the Alleganies. These incursions served only to
call forth reprisals; and in November, the flourishing settlement of
Cherry Valley, in New York, was surprised by a party of Indians and
loyalist regulars. The fort, which was garrisoned by about 200 soldiers,
was not taken; but its colonel, who lodged in the town, was killed, the
lieutenant-colonel taken prisoner, and the inhabitants suffered the
cruel fate of those of Wyoming.
We have already mentioned that Commodore Hyde Parker had been sent in
November with a detachment of 3,500 men, under Colonel Campbell, against
Georgia; at the same time instructions had been forwarded to
Major-General Prevost, who commanded the troops in East Florida, to make
all necessary preparations for the defence of Fort St. Augustine, and to
co-operate in the views of the present expedition by entering the
province of Georgia from that side, and advancing, if possible, so far
as to assist Colonel Campbell in the intended attack on Savannah.
The scene of events is now about to be in great measure removed from the
North to the South. While the northern provinces had been so long
harassed, and had suffered from the calamities of war, the southern had
enjoyed such comparative tranquillity that they had duly cultivated
their affluent lands and gathered in their abundant harvests, and had
carried on their export trade with most of the European markets without
impediment, except from British cruisers in the ocean. There had, it is
true, been a continuance of petty hostilities between Georgia and East
Florida, which had kept up a rumour of war in the south; and in West
Florida the British settlements had quietly submitted to the Americans;
but as yet all had been comparative peace.
The shortness of provisions in the north, from which the British
suffered, rendered it additionally important for them to gain possession
of Georgia, the feeblest of the southern provinces. As regards, indeed,
the want of provisions, it was felt by the Americans equally with the
British; and it is stated that D’Estaing would have found it
impracticable to have victualled his ships at Boston but for the
opportune seizing, by the New England cruisers, of so large a number of
English provision-ships on their way to New York, that there was not
only abundance for the French fleet, but the general price of food was
lowered thereby in Boston market. This event, which was a great triumph
to the Americans, was a serious cause of increased anxiety and suffering
to the British army.
But the possession of Georgia was not only important to the British, as
furnishing an abundant supply of its staple commodity, rice, and its
other numerous products, but as enabling East Florida to join her
forces, and thus to form an aggregate establishment in the south, which
might greatly influence the ultimate fortunes of the war; besides which,
a door would thus be opened into South Carolina.
The commander of the American forces in the southern department was at
this time Major-General Robert Howe, who, however, not having given
satisfaction to congress, was about to be superseded by General Lincoln,
when, on the 23rd of December, the British fleet arrived at the island
of Tybee, near the mouth of the river Savannah. The Americans were
wholly unprepared for the removal of the scene of war from the north to
the south, and no measures of defence had been taken to secure Savannah.
Though Howe was there with the whole regular force of the southern
department, consisting of six South Carolina and the one Georgia
regiments, the whole force did not amount to 800 men; while the
batteries which had been constructed for the defence of the river had
been suffered to fall into decay.
The capture of Savannah was very easy. On the 28th, the enemy landed
just below the town, Major-General Howe having drawn up his forces about
half a mile to the east, his left resting on the river, and his right
and rear covered by rice-swamps, across which he believed there was but
one road. “Fortune, however,” says the British report of this
enterprise, “whose favours no prudent officer will ever deny, threw a
negro into the hands of the commander, whose intelligence turned to the
happiest account.” This man led a British detachment, by a private road
known to himself, to the back of Howe’s force, and the Americans, thus
at once attacked in front and rear, were completely routed. The British
loss was less than thirty; of the Americans 450, while several
commissioned officers were taken prisoners; and Savannah, with its
artillery, shipping and stores, fell into the hands of the British. The
remains of Howe’s army fled into South Carolina.
This was the greatest acquisition made by the British in the present
year. Washington had gone into winter-quarters at Middlebrook. The two
hostile armies of the north were now, at the close of 1778, after two
years’ struggles and manœuvres, in very nearly the same relative
position as at the close of 1776. The British, driven from the mainland,
were now again entrenched on New York Island; and Washington, speaking
of the present state of affairs, nobly remarked: “The hand of Providence
had been so conspicuous in all this, that he who lacked faith must have
been worse than an infidel, and he more than wicked who had no gratitude
to acknowledge his obligations.”