Chapter 25

"Happy is it for this country that the general of their forces can safely be entrusted with the most unlimited power, and neither personal security, liberty, or property, be in the least degree endangered thereby."

As soon as the news of the capture of the Hessians at Trenton reached New York, General Howe hurried Cornwallis off to Princeton, where about eight thousand of his army were wintering, with instructions to attack Washington. On the second day of January, 1777, the latter posted his troops on the east side of a small stream, the Assumpink, learning that Cornwallis was marching upon him. About mid-day Cornwallis approached with five or six thousand troops, and attempted to cross the river; but the Americans repulsed him. The engagement continued until dark, when Cornwallis proposed to cease hostilities and rest until morning.

"Nay," said Sir William Erskine; "now is your time to make sure of Washington."

"Oh, no!" replied Cornwallis; "our troops are fatigued and need rest. The old fox can't make his escape now; for, with the Delaware behind him, so filled with floating ice that he cannot cross, we have him completely surrounded. To-morrow morning, fresh and strong, we will fall upon him, and take him and his rag-a-muffins all at once!"

"Ah, my lord!" rejoined Sir William, "if Washington be the soldier that I think he is, you will not see him there to-morrow morning."

The escape of the American army seemed impossible. With a superior force of the British in front, well armed and fresh, and the impossibility of recrossing the Delaware, together with deep mud in the roads, the capture of Washington, to human view, seemed inevitable.

Early in the evening Washington conceived the idea of making a forced march to Princeton during the night, to capture the enemy's stores there, and then push on to Brunswick for additional booty. But then the mud was so deep that such a march would not be possible. While he was thus revolving the matter, the wind suddenly shifted, the clouds broke, and freezing cold weather set in, so that within two hours the ground became solid, and the army could move. Again God proved to the astonished commander-in-chief that He was not always "on the side of the heaviest battalions."

Stirring up his camp-fire anew, and setting a score of shovellers to work within hearing distance of the foe, to deceive him, Washington moved off as quietly as possible to Princeton with his army. There he met a force Cornwallis had left behind, and a desperate battle followed, in which the Americans were victorious.

At first Colonel Mawhood's celebrated regiment charged upon the advance of the American army, driving them back in confusion. But Washington, ever ready for such an emergency, rode to the front, brandishing his sword, and calling upon his men to follow. Placing himself in front, directly facing the foe, he stopped for a moment, as if to say to his army, "Will you suffer the enemy to shoot your general?" They could not resist the appeal, and with a yell they turned and dashed forward, with irresistible might, driving all before them, and the victory was theirs.

Colonel Fitzgerald, one of Washington's aides, was so affected by his commander's daring, that he dropped the reins on his horse's neck and drew his cap over his eyes, that he might not see him shot from his horse. While waiting in this agony of suspense, a shout of triumph rent the air.

"The British are running!"

"The victory is ours!"

The air was rent with the shouts of the victors.

Lifting his cap, and looking for his loved commander, he beheld him, as the smoke of the battle cleared, safe and unharmed, waving his hat and cheering his soldiers on to pursue the foe. Bursting into tears for very joy, he spurred his horse to Washington's side, and exclaimed:

"Thank God, your excellency is safe!"

Grasping the colonel's hand in gladness, Washington answered:

"Away, my dear colonel, and bring up the troops. THE DAY IS OUR OWN!"

When Cornwallis awoke in the early dawn, he found that his "fox" had escaped.

"That is just what I feared," said Sir William Erskine.

"Where can he have gone?" Cornwallis inquired, almost bewildered by the unexpected revelation.

Just then booming cannon in the distance explained.

"There!" exclaimed Sir William; "There is Washington now, cutting up our troops!"

"Capturing our stores at Brunswick!" shouted Cornwallis in reply, as he took in the situation, and thought what a haul the rebel general would make in capturing the seventy thousand pounds in money, and the vast quantity of arms, ammunition, and stores at Brunswick.

Almost franticly he dashed about to hurry his Army away to the latter place, where he arrived to find everything safe, and himself outwitted again.

The battle of Princeton, though short, was a costly one to the Americans. One general, two colonels, one major, and three captains were killed. From twenty to thirty others were killed and wounded. The British lost one hundred killed and wounded, and three hundred prisoners.

The American general slain was Mercer, whom Washington called "the worthy and brave General Mercer." Early in the conflict his horse was shot under him, and on foot he was attempting to rally his men, when a blow from the butt of a British musket felled him to the ground.

"Call for quarters, you mean rebel!" shouted a British officer.

"I am not a rebel," retorted Mercer; "I am a true soldier of liberty, fighting for his country;" and, as he spoke he thrust his sword at the nearest man.

Then he was bayoneted, and left for dead. He was subsequently borne to the house of a Mr. Clark, where he was nursed until he died, a few days thereafter. Washington supposed that he was killed on the field, until he was on his way to Morristown. On learning that he was still alive, he despatched Major George Lewis with a flag and letter to Cornwallis, requesting that the bearer be allowed to remain with, and nurse, the wounded general. A few days afterwards, Mercer died in the arms of Lewis.

The story spread in the American army that the British bayoneted General Mercer after he gave up his sword. But he said to Major Lewis, who inquired about it: "The tale which you have heard, George, is untrue. My death is owing to myself. I was on foot endeavoring to rally my men, who had given way before the superior discipline of the enemy, when I was brought to the ground by a blow from a musket. At the same moment the enemy discovered my rank, exulted in their having taken the rebel general, as they termed me, and bid me ask for quarters. I felt that I deserved not so opprobrious an epithet, and determined to die, as I had lived, an honored soldier in a just and righteous cause; and without begging my life or making reply, I lunged with my sword at the nearest man. They then bayoneted and left me."

Washington did not pursue the enemy far, nor push on to Brunswick. Most of his troops had been two days and nights without sleep, and they were completely exhausted, so that further engagements without rest were preposterous. He determined to go into winter quarters at Morristown, and marched directly to that place. Stopping at Pluckamin to rest his soldiers for a short time, he wrote to General Putnam:

"The enemy appear to be panic-struck. I am in hopes of driving them out of the Jerseys. Keep a strict watch upon the enemy. A number of horsemen, in the dress of the country, must be kept constantly going backward and forward for this purpose."

Occupying the mountainous region of Morristown, and reinforcing his little army, he harassed the enemy to such an extent that Cornwallis was forced to draw in all his out-posts, so that his land communication with New York was completely cut off.

Hamilton wrote: "The extraordinary spectacle was presented of a powerful army, straitened within narrow limits by the phantom of a military force, and never permitted to transgress those limits with impunity."

The British were driven out of the Jerseys at every point except Amboy and Brunswick, and the remarkable exploit awakened the wonder, and admiration of even our enemies. Everywhere that the achievements of Washington, from Dec. 25, 1776, to Jan. 3, 1777, were made known, his fame was greatly augmented. No such bold and glorious deeds could be found in the annals of military renown. This was the verdict of the country; and from that moment the American cause grew stronger.

From that day to this the battles of Trenton and Princeton, including the crossing and recrossing of the Delaware, have been accorded the brightest pages of history by writers of every age. It is said that Frederick the Great of Prussia declared that the deeds of Washington, in the ten days specified, "were the most brilliant of any in the annals of military achievements."

The Italian historian, Botta, wrote:

"Achievements so stirring gained for the American commander a very great reputation, and were regarded with wonder by all nations, as well as by the Americans. The prudence, constancy, and noble intrepidity of Washington were admired and applauded by all. By unanimous consent, he was declared to be the saviour of his country; all proclaimed him equal to the most renowned commanders of antiquity, and especially distinguished him by the name of the 'American Fabius.' His name was in the mouths of all; he was celebrated by the pens of the most distinguished writers. The most illustrious personages of Europe lavished upon him their praises and their congratulations."

Washington continued in his winter quarters at Morristown until near the close of May. Learning that a British fleet of a hundred transports, bearing eighteen thousand soldiers, had sailed from New York, and suspecting that Philadelphia was the place of its destination, he broke up his camp and marched toward that city. His whole force was but seven thousand three hundred men.

While encamped at Morristown, Washington found that the Lord's Supper would be celebrated by the Presbyterian Church on a certain Sabbath. He called upon the pastor, Dr. Johns, and inquired:

"Does it accord with the canons of your church to admit communicants of another denomination?"

"Most certainly," the doctor answered; "ours is not the Presbyterian table, General Washington, but the Lord's table; and hence we give the Lord's invitation to all His followers, of whatever name."

Washington replied, "I am glad of it; that is as it ought to be; but as I was not quite sure of the fact, I thought I would ascertain it from yourself, as I propose to join with you on that occasion. Though I am a member of the Church of England, I have no exclusive partialities."

He encamped at Middlebrook, ten miles from Brunswick; thence advanced to Coryell Ferry, thirty miles from Philadelphia, where he learned that a British fleet of two hundred and twenty-eight sail had appeared off the capes of Delaware. He marched at once to Germantown, six miles from Philadelphia. Here he could personally superintend the defences of the city by daily visits thither.

One day he dined with several members of Congress, and was introduced to a French nobleman, the Marquis de Lafayette. The latter had heard of the American struggle for liberty, led by the heroic Washington, and, in common with the lovers of freedom in every land, he was charmed by the story. He had an interview with Silas Deane, who was in Paris with Dr. Franklin and Arthur Lee, as commissioners, to consummate alliance with the French, the result of which was his coming to this country.

Washington welcomed Lafayette with genuine cordiality, and on that day commenced a life-long friendship with him.

"We ought to feel embarrassed in presenting ourselves before an officer just from the French army," he said.

"It is to learn, and not to instruct, that I came here," was Lafayette's polite and modest reply.

Lafayette addressed a communication to Congress, in which he said:

"After many sacrifices I have a right to ask two favors: one is to serve at my own expense; the other, to commence serving as a volunteer."

Washington was attracted to Lafayette from the first, and he invited him immediately to a place on his staff.

Lafayette was a remarkable character. He was left an orphan at thirteen years of age, with a large fortune. Being a favorite in the court of Louis, he received a commission in the army at fifteen years of age. He was married at sixteen, and two years later resolved to remove to America and join in fighting the battle of liberty. His purpose becoming known, the government prevented his securing a passage. Determined not to be frustrated in his purpose, he purchased a vessel, and prepared to sail. His arrest being ordered, he escaped to Passage, where he boarded a vessel bound for the West Indies. When fairly under way, fearing that the English colonists in the West Indies might arrest him, he hired the captain to proceed direct to the American coast. Congress commissioned him major-general soon after he joined the American army, the youngest major-general ever known in America, if not in the world. His intimate relations and aid to Washington make this brief notice necessary.

XXI.

DEFEAT AND VICTORY.

The plan of the British for 1777 was, for General Howe, with twenty thousand men, to land at the head of Elk River, and march north through Philadelphia; while General Burgoyne, starting from Canada with ten thousand men, should march south to meet Howe, rallying both Tories and Indians to his standard.

The militia of Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Northern Virginia were called out to defend Philadelphia; and Washington advanced to Wilmington. In order to impress the Tories of Philadelphia, he marched through the city at the head of his column, with Lafayette at his side, making an imposing display that captivated the friends of liberty, and awed the Tories.

It was in this campaign that an officer of the army dined with Washington at his headquarters. Several guests graced the occasion. When, agreeable to the prevailing custom, the general proposed to drink a glass of wine with him, the officer replied, "You will have the goodness to excuse me, as I have made it a rule not to take wine."

The other guests were surprised. They regarded the act as a direct insult to the commander-in-chief. Washington read their feelings in their faces, and he remarked: "Gentlemen, my friend is right; I do not wish any of my guests to partake of anything against their inclination, and I certainly do not wish them to violate any established _principle_ in their social intercourse with me. I honor Mr. ---- for his frankness, for his consistency in thus adhering to an established rule which can never do him harm, and for the adoption of which, I have no doubt, he has good and sufficient reasons."

While Washington was watching the British fleet, General Burgoyne was advancing from the north, his Hessian soldiers and Indian allies indulging themselves in terrifying and plundering the defenceless inhabitants. On the 16th of August the battle of Bennington was fought, in which the American troops, under the brave General Stark, won a decisive victory. Stark addressed his troops in words of cheer before going into battle, and closed by saying:

"Now, my men, there are the red-coats. Before night they must be ours, or Molly Stark will be a widow."

Stark captured thirty-two British officers, five hundred and sixty-four privates, four brass field-pieces, a thousand stand of arms, and a large quantity of ammunition.

The moral effect of this victory was grand. The farmers rushed to the American camp, to follow up the victory by surrounding Burgoyne, cutting off his supplies, and driving him to Saratoga.

Washington hailed the victory with great joy, and proclaimed it at the head of his army to inspire his troops to nobler deeds.

Another bloody battle was fought at Fort Schuyler, where the Americans bravely defended and held the fort. The Indians conducted so much like fiends incarnate that even the Hessians were shocked. A Hessian officer wrote:

"These savages are heathen; huge, warlike, and enterprising, but wicked as Satan. Some say they are cannibals, but I do not believe it; though, in their fury, they will tear the flesh of the enemy with their teeth."

A Miss McCrea, daughter of a New Jersey clergyman, was visiting friends at the North. Her lover was a Tory, and he was in the British army, so that she felt no anxiety at the approach of Burgoyne.

Early one morning she was startled by the horrid yells of savages, who had surrounded the house where she was visiting. Before she was scarcely aware of her peril, they burst into the house, in their wild fury, seized her, and bore her away in triumph. While they were disputing as to whom the prize belonged, a drunken chief buried his tomahawk in her head, whereupon she was scalped and left dead upon the ground.

Nine days after the battle of Bennington, Washington learned that General Howe was landing his troops in Elk River, seventy miles from Philadelphia. It was not, however, until the 8th of September that the two armies met, and the battle of Brandywine was fought.

Washington had eleven thousand men, and Howe eighteen thousand. It was a sanguinary contest, in which the Americans were defeated, with a loss of twelve hundred. Lafayette conducted himself with great coolness and bravery, and was wounded by a bullet that passed through his leg.

The consternation in Philadelphia was now appalling. Many of the citizens fled; Congress adjourned to Lancaster; confusion and dismay turned the city into Bedlam.

Washington retreated to Germantown to prepare for another battle. He was beaten, but not dismayed.

Another instance of the providential care over Washington occurred just before the battle of Brandywine. In disguise, accompanied by a single officer in a Hussar dress, he reconnoitered one day. Major Ferguson beheld him at a distance, and, supposing he belonged to the enemy, he ordered three riflemen to steal near to him and fire. But, for some unaccountable reason, he recalled the riflemen before they fired. What was his surprise on the next day to learn that the supposed enemy, whom he would have shot, was his own general, Washington!

Howe could not ascend the Delaware to Philadelphia because it was defended by Forts Mifflin and Mercer. He prepared to attack them.

A large force of British were at Germantown, and on the night of Oct. 2, Washington performed a march of fifteen miles and attacked them. A quick and signal victory perched upon his banners, and the enemy fled in confusion. The victory was turned into defeat, however, by a serious blunder. The British had been driven three miles, leaving tents and baggage behind, and were still on the retreat when in the dense fog, several Jersey and Maryland regiments approaching, were mistaken for British reinforcements. The cry was raised: "We are surrounded and retreat cut off!" whereupon the Americans retreated in confusion.

General Sullivan wrote of Washington in that battle:

"I saw, with great concern, our brave commander-in-chief exposing himself to the hottest fire of the enemy, in such a manner that regard for my country obliged me to ride to him and beg him to retire. He, to gratify me and others, withdrew a short distance; but his anxiety for the fate of the day soon brought him up again, where he remained till our troops had retreated."

At great sacrifice of men and money, the British removed the obstructions from the river, and took possession of Philadelphia.

Dr. Franklin was in Paris when the news reached him, "Howe has taken Philadelphia." "No," replied Franklin, "Philadelphia has taken Howe."

The sequel proved that Franklin had an eye upon the future.

Although the prospect was gloomy in Pennsylvania, glad tidings came to Washington from the north. The Americans completely surrounded Burgoyne's army at Saratoga, so that farther retreat was impossible. On the 16th of October, 1777, after holding a council of war, Burgoyne surrendered to General Gates, remarking:

"The fortune of war has made me your prisoner."

"I shall always be ready to testify that it has not been through any fault of your excellency," Gates replied.

Burgoyne's army was reduced from nine thousand men, to five thousand seven hundred and fifty-two. These prisoners were allowed a free passage to Europe, under the irrevocable condition not to serve again in the British ranks. Seven thousand stand of arms, a large number of tents, a long train of artillery, and a great quantity of clothing and stores fell into the hands of the victors.

The celebrated Polish patriot Kosciusko was chief engineer in Gates' command when Burgoyne was captured.

The British made Philadelphia their winter quarters, where the troops indulged themselves in almost unrestrained revelry. They forced many sympathizers with the American cause to vacate their dwellings for the accommodation of their own number; and many were quartered upon patriotic families, with the express understanding that failure to supply their wants would be resented.

Washington went into winter quarters at Valley Forge, about twenty miles from Philadelphia. The tale of suffering connected with that place during that long, dreary winter, is known to the world.

Arriving there, many of the troops without blankets or shoes, ragged, worn out, and desponding, they were exposed to the snows and blasts of December until they could cut down trees and build their own huts. Two days after encamping, General Huntington reported to Washington:

"My brigade are out of provisions, nor can the commissary obtain any meat."

General Varnum reported:

"Three days successively we have been destitute of bread. Two days we have been entirely without meat." Against his own judgment, in order to prevent mutiny in his army, Washington was forced to forage the country and seize supplies wherever he could find them, paying for them in money, or certificates redeemable by Congress.

Yet we find Washington writing thus:

"For some days past there has been little less than a famine in the camp. A part of the army has been a week without any kind of flesh, and the rest, three or four days. Naked and starving as they are, we cannot enough admire the incomparable patience and fidelity of the soldiers, that they have not been ere this excited by their suffering to a general mutiny and desertion."

Sickness and mortality prevailed to an alarming extent among the troops, while scarcely any medicines were at hand. Even scores of horses perished by hunger and the severity of the weather.

One day circumstances drew Washington's attention to a hungry soldier who was on guard. The general had just come from his own table and he said:

"Go to my table and help yourself."

"I can't; I am on guard," the soldier replied. Immediately taking the soldier's gun to play the part of sentinel, Washington said, "Go."

The soldier enjoyed the first square meal he had eaten for two days, and at the same time he learned that his general had true sympathy with the "boys," and that official distinction did not lift him above the humblest of their number.

With his army in such a deplorable condition, and his cannon frozen up and immovable, Washington knew very well that, almost any day, the British might march out of Philadelphia and capture or annihilate his entire command. His anxiety and trouble can be more easily imagined than described.

To add to the trials of that winter, Washington learned of a conspiracy against him, the object of which was to supersede him by General Gates as commander-in-chief. His old friend Dr. Craik wrote to him: