CHAPTER X.

_The Vicissitudes of War._

Crossing the Hudson--The retreat--Views of the British--Strange conduct of Lee--His capture--Crossing the Delaware--Battle of Trenton--Heroic march upon Princeton--Discomfiture of the British--Increasing renown of Washington--Barbarism of the British--Foreign Volunteers--Movements of the fleet--Lafayette--Movements of Burgoyne--The murder of Jane McCrea--Battle of Fort Schuyler--Starks’ Victory at Bennington--Battle of the Brandywine--Its effects.

Washington removed the most of his army across the Hudson, a little below Stony Point, that he might seek refuge for them among the Highlands. General Heath was entrusted with the command. As the troops crossed the river, three of the British men-of-war were seen a few miles below, at anchor in Haverstraw Bay. Fort Lee, on the Jersey shore, was now useless, and was promptly abandoned. On the 20th the British army crossed the river in two hundred boats. It is remarkable that their fears were such that they took the precaution of crossing, as it were by stealth, in a dark and rainy night.

A corps of six thousand men under Cornwallis, was marshaled about six miles above the fort, under the towering Palisades. The troops, retreating from Fort Lee, about three thousand in number, were at Hackensack, without tents or baggage, and exceedingly disheartened. Still the British were in great strength on the east of the Hudson. They could concentrate their forces and make a resistless raid into New England, or, with their solid battalions march upon Philadelphia and the opulent towns in that region. It soon became evident that the British were aiming at Philadelphia. Washington endeavored to concentrate as many as possible of his suffering troops at Brunswick. It makes one blush with indignation to remember that a loud clamor was raised against Washington for his continual retreat.

It would have been the act of a madman to pursue any course different from that which Washington was pursuing. His feelings were very keenly wounded, by seeing indications of this spirit of ignorant censure, on the part of some whom he had esteemed his firmest friends. There were others, however, and among them many of the very noblest in the land, who appreciated the grandeur of Washington’s character and the consummate ability with which he was conducting as difficult a campaign as was ever intrusted to mortal guidance.

Washington, with a feeble, disheartened band, in a state of fearful destitution, lingered at Brunswick until the 1st of December. The haughty foe, in solid columns was marching proudly through the country, with infantry, artillery and cavalry, impressing horses, wagons, sheep, cattle and every thing which could add to the comfort of his warmly clad and well fed hosts.[140]

The chill winds of winter were moaning over the bleak fields, and ice was beginning to clog the swollen streams. About twelve hundred men were stationed at Princeton, to watch the movements of the enemy. On the 2d his harassed army reached Trenton. In that dark hour, when all hearts began to fail, Washington remained undaunted. He wrote to General Mercer:

“We must retire to Augusta county, in Virginia. Numbers will repair to us for safety. We will try a predatory war. If overpowered, we must cross the Alleghanies.”

In these hours of despondency and dismay, Admiral Howe and his brother the general, on the 30th of November, issued a proclamation, offering pardon to all who, within thirty days, should disband and return to their homes. Many, particularly of those who had property to lose, complied with these terms. On the 2d of December a British officer wrote to a friend in London:

“The rebels continue flying before our army. Washington was seen retreating with two brigades to Trenton, where they talk of resisting. But such a panic has seized the rebels that no part of the Jerseys will hold them; and I doubt whether Philadelphia itself will stop their career. The Congress have lost their authority. They are in such consternation that they know not what to do. However, should they embrace the inclosed proclamation, they may yet escape the halter.”[141]

Congress hastily adjourned to meet at Baltimore on the 20th of December. It was really a flight from Philadelphia. Washington had but five thousand five hundred men. It is difficult to account for the conduct of General Lee, upon any other plea than that of insanity. He turned against Washington, assumed airs of superiority, and was extremely dilatory in lending any coöperation. Washington wrote to him:

“Do come on. Your arrival may be the means of preserving a city, (Philadelphia,) whose loss must prove of the most fatal consequence to the cause of America.”

Lee was loitering at Morristown, with about four thousand men. He was an Englishman by birth, and a man of undoubted military ability, but coarse and vulgar in dress, mind, language, and manners. His ordinary speech was interlarded with oaths. On the 12th of December Lee was at a tavern at Baskenridge, not far from Morristown. There was no British cantonment within twenty miles. He was naturally an indolent man, and was entirely off his guard.

At eight o’clock in the morning he came down to breakfast, in his usually slovenly style, apparently unwashed and uncombed, in slippers, with linen much soiled, collar open, and with a coarse, war-worn blanket overcoat. Suddenly a party of British dragoons surrounded the house, seized him, forced him instantly on a horse, bare-headed, and in his slippers and blanket coat, and upon the full gallop set off with their prize for Brunswick. It was a bold movement, and heroically was it achieved. In three hours the heavy booming of guns at Brunswick, announced the triumph of the English.[142]

Though the British were very exultant over this capture, and the Americans felt keenly the disgrace and the loss, it is by no means improbable that, had not Lee thus been captured, he would have proved the ruin of the country. He was a reckless, dashing man, destitute of high moral qualities, was plotting against Washington, and would unquestionably have sacrificed the army in some crushing defeat had he been intrusted with the supreme command. There were not a few who, disheartened by defeat, were in favor of trying the generalship of Lee.[143]

Washington combined in his character, to an astonishing degree, courage and prudence. It is doubtful whether there was another man on the continent who could have conducted his retreat through the Jerseys.[144] With a mere handful of freezing, starving, ragged men, he retreated more than a hundred miles before a powerful foe, flushed with victory and strengthened with abundance. He baffled all their endeavors to cut him off, and preserved all his field-pieces, ammunition, and nearly all his stores. There was grandeur in this achievement which far surpassed any ordinary victory.[145]

In this emergency Congress invested Washington with almost dictatorial authority. It was voted that “General Washington should be possessed of all power to order and direct all things relative to the department and to the operations of war.”[146] General Sullivan hastened to join him with Lee’s troops. They were in a deplorable state of destitution. In ten days several regiments would have served out their term. Washington would then be left with but fourteen hundred men. General Wilkinson writes:

“I saw Washington in that gloomy period: dined with him and attentively marked his aspect. Always grave and thoughtful, he appeared at that time, pensive and solemn in the extreme.”

Washington crossed the Delaware, destroyed the bridges, and seized all the boats for a distance of seventy miles up and down the river. These he either destroyed, or placed under guard, on the west bank. Here he stationed his troops with the broad river between him and his foes. He had then about five or six thousand men. Cornwallis continued his troops, mostly Hessians, on the east bank of the Delaware, facing the American lines. The idea of his being attacked by Washington was as remote from his thoughts as that an army should descend from the skies.

There were three regiments at Trenton. The weather was intensely cold. Vast masses of ice were floating down the river. In a few days it would be frozen over, so that the British could pass anywhere without impediment. The energies of despair alone could now save the army. But Washington guided those energies with skill and caution, which elicited the wonder and admiration of the world.

He knew that on Christmas night the German troops, unsuspicious of danger, would be indulging in their customary carousals on that occasion. Their bands would be in disorder, and many would be intoxicated. He selected twenty-five hundred of his best troops with a train of twenty pieces of artillery. With these feeble regiments, he was to cross the ice-encumbered river, to attack the heavy battalions of the foe. One can imagine the fervor with which he pleaded with God to come to the aid of his little army. Defeat would be ruin--probably his own death or capture. The British would sweep everything before them; and then all American rights would be trampled beneath the feet of that despotic power.

The wintry wind was keen and piercing as, soon after sunset, the thinly clad troops entered the boats to cross the swollen stream. Washington passed over in one of the first boats, and stood upon the snow-drifted eastern bank, to receive and marshal the detachments as they arrived. The night was very dark and tempestuous, with wind, rain and hail, compelling the British sentinels to seek shelter. It was not until three o’clock in the morning that the artillery arrived.

The landing was effected nine miles above Trenton. The storm was raging fiercely, driving the sleet with almost blinding violence into the faces of the troops. They advanced, in two divisions, to attack the town at different points. Washington led one division, Sullivan the other. At eight o’clock, enveloped in the fierce tempest, they made a simultaneous attack. The conflict was short and the victory decisive. The British commander--Colonel Rahl--a brave and reckless soldier, like Lee, but a poor general, lost all self-possession, and was soon struck down by a mortal wound. The Hessians, thrown into a panic, and having lost their commander, threw down their arms.

Under the circumstances, it was a wonderful and glorious victory. A thousand prisoners were captured, including twenty-three officers. Six brass field pieces, a thousand stand of arms, and a large supply of the munitions of war were also taken. It was comparatively a bloodless victory. The Americans lost but four. Two were killed and two frozen to death. Lieutenant Monroe, afterward President of the United States, was wounded. The British lost in killed, between twenty and thirty.[147]

Washington, aware that an overpowering force might soon come down upon him, recrossed the Delaware the same day, with his prisoners, and with the artillery, stores and munitions of war which were of such priceless value to the army at that time.

Washington had made arrangements for another division of his troops to cross the river a little below Trenton, to aid in the attack. But the ice and the storm delayed them, so that they could take no part in the heroic enterprise. A general panic pervaded the scattered cantonments of the British. It was reported that Washington was marching upon them at the head of fifteen thousand troops. Many posts were abandoned, and the troops sought refuge in precipitate flight. The tories were alarmed, and began to avow themselves patriots. The patriotic Americans were encouraged, and more readily enlisted. And though there was many a dreary day of blood and woe still to be encountered, this heroic crossing of the Delaware was the turning point in the war. The midnight hour of darkness had passed. The dawn was at hand, which finally ushered in the perfect day.[148]

Washington gave his brave and weary troops a few days of rest, and again, on the 29th, crossed over to Trenton. It was mid-winter, and the roads were in a wretched condition. But it was necessary to be regardless of cold and hunger, and of exhaustion, in the endeavor to reclaim the Jerseys from the cruel foe. Not a Briton or a Hessian was to be seen. The enemy had drawn off from their scattered cantonments, and were concentrating all their forces at Princeton.

Lord Cornwallis, greatly chagrined at the defeat, rallied about eight thousand men at Princeton. General Howe was on the march to join him, with an additional body of a thousand light troops which he had landed at Amboy, with abundant supplies.

Washington posted his troops on the east side of a small stream called the Assumpink. Cornwallis with nearly his whole force, approached about mid-day. He made repeated attempts to cross the stream, but was driven back by the well posted batteries of Washington. It was impossible for the Americans to retreat, for the broad Delaware, filled with floating ice, was in their rear. As night came on Cornwallis decided to give his troops some sleep, and await the arrival of his rear-guard. He said, “Washington cannot escape me. I will bag the fox in the morning.”

Again Washington performed one of those feats of skill and daring, which has never perhaps been surpassed in the achievements of war. In the gloom of that wintry night he piled the wood upon his watchfires, left sentinels to go their rounds, employed a band of sappers and miners to work noisily in throwing up trenches; and then in a rapid, silent march, with all his remaining force, by a circuitous route, passed round the British encampment, and when morning dawned had reached Princeton undiscovered, many miles in the rear of the foe. Here he attacked three British regiments and put them to flight, killed one hundred of the enemy, captured three hundred, and replenished his exhausted stores from the abundant supplies which the British had left there under guard.

Should Cornwallis continue his march to Philadelphia, Washington would immediately advance upon Brunswick, and seize all his magazines. The British commander was therefore compelled to abandon that project and retreat, with the utmost precipitation, to save his stores. The battle at Princeton was fiercely contested. Washington plunged into the thickest of all its perils. But the victory, on the part of the Americans, was decisive. The foe was routed and scattered in precipitate flight. One of the British officers who fell on this occasion was Captain Leven, son of the wealthy and illustrious Earl of Leven. He seems to have been a gallant and amiable young man. His death was sincerely deplored by his comrades. It is often said that bayonets must not think; that it is their sole function to obey. But those who guide bayonets are culpable, in the highest degree, if they direct the terrible energies of those bayonets against the right and for the wrong. History must record that the prospective Earl of Leven fell, ignobly fighting to rivet the chains of an intolerable despotism upon his fellow-men. It is well that the woes of cruel war penetrate the castle as well as the cottage.

It is said that when Cornwallis awoke in the morning, and heard the heavy booming of cannon far away in his rear, he was lost in astonishment, being utterly unable to account for it. And when he learned that, during the night, his victims had escaped, and that Washington was cutting down his guard, and seizing his magazines, he could not refrain from expressing his admiration of the heroism of his foe.

Greatly humiliated, he marched at the double quick, to save, if possible, the large supplies at Brunswick, compelled to admit that he had been completely foiled and outgeneraled.

Washington, thus gloriously a victor, thought it not prudent to advance upon Brunswick, as a strong guard was left there, and it was certain that Cornwallis would come rushing down upon him at the double quick. He therefore continued his march, which may be truly called a victorious retreat, to the mountainous region of Morristown. Here he established his winter quarters, in strong positions which the British did not venture to assail.

Washington, while on the march, 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.”

To General Heath, who was stationed in the Highlands of the Hudson, he wrote: “The enemy are in great consternation. As the panic affords us a favorable opportunity to drive them out of the Jerseys, it has been determined, in council, that you should move down toward New York, with a considerable force, as if you had a design upon the city. That being an object of great importance, the enemy will be reduced to the necessity of withdrawing a considerable part of their force from the Jerseys, if not the whole, to secure the city.”

Washington reinforced his little band at Morristown, and, keeping a vigilant watch upon the movements of the British, so harassed them, that Cornwallis was compelled to draw in all his outposts, and his land communication with New York was entirely cut off. The whole aspect of the war, in the Jerseys, was changed. The grand military qualities of Washington were generally recognized. Alexander 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.”[149]

The British had conducted like savages in the Jerseys, burning, plundering and committing all manner of outrages, often making no discrimination between friends and foes. Thus the whole country was roused against them. The American troops speedily erected a village of log huts in a sheltered valley covered with a dense forest.

General Howe, in New York, was a gamester, a wine-bibber, and a fashionable young man of pleasure. He and his officers spent the winter in convivial and luxurious indulgence. The American prisoners were treated with barbarity which would have disgraced the Mohawks. General Lee was held in close confinement, Howe affecting to regard him as a deserter, as he had once been an officer in the British army.[150]

Washington had but a very feeble force with him at Morristown. He however succeeded in impressing the British with the conviction that he had a powerful army quite well equipped. He wrote: “The enemy must be ignorant of our numbers and situation, or they would never suffer us to remain unmolested.”

The fame of the great struggle for American independence had now pervaded the civilized world. Everywhere, the hearts of the lovers of freedom throbbed in sympathy with the American cause. Many foreign officers came, and applied for service in the patriot army. One of the most illustrious of these was the Polish general, Thaddeus Kosciusko.[151]

Toward the end of May, Washington broke up his camp at Morristown, and advanced to Middlebrook, about ten miles from Brunswick. His entire force consisted of seven thousand three hundred men. The whole country was smiling in the beautiful bloom of spring. A fleet of a hundred crowded British transports left New York. Great was the anxiety to learn where the blow was to fall. At the same time, Sir William Howe took up his headquarters at Brunswick. He soon drew out his forces upon the Raritan, and by plundering and burning private dwellings, endeavored to provoke Washington to descend from his strong position, and attack him. Failing in this, and finding that he could not advance upon Philadelphia with such a foe in his rear, he broke up his camp, and abandoning the Jerseys, returned with all his troops to New York.

Washington having thus driven the foe from the Jerseys, awaited, with great anxiety, tidings of the British fleet. Its destination, whether south or east, was matter only of conjecture. The ships contained quite a formidable army of eighteen thousand thoroughly equipped soldiers. They were capable of striking very heavy blows. Circumstances inclined him to the opinion that it was the aim of the fleet to capture Philadelphia. He therefore moved his army in that direction, and encamped at Coryell’s Ferry, about thirty miles from the city. General Gates was stationed at Philadelphia, with a small force. On the 30th of July, Washington wrote to General Gates:

“As we are yet uncertain as to the real destination of the enemy, though the Delaware seems the most probable, I have thought it prudent to halt the army at this place, at least till the fleet actually enters the bay, and puts the matter beyond a doubt.

“That the post in the Highlands may not be left too much exposed, I have ordered General Sullivan’s division to halt at Morristown, whence it will march southward, if there should be occasion, or northward upon the first advice that the enemy should be throwing any force up the North river.”

The next day Washington received intelligence that the British fleet of two hundred and twenty-eight sail, had appeared off the Capes of Delaware. He immediately advanced to Germantown, but six miles from the city. The next day, however, the fleet again disappeared and the embarrassments of Washington were renewed. He feared that the appearance of the fleet in the Delaware was a mere feint, and that its destination might be to get entire possession of the Hudson river.

Several days passed, when, on the 10th of August, tidings reached him that, three days before, the fleet was seen about fifty miles south of the Capes of Delaware. During his encampment Washington repeatedly visited the city to superintend operations for its defence.

On one occasion he dined in the city with several members of Congress. One of the guests was a young nobleman from France, the Marquis de Lafayette. This heroic man, whose memory is enshrined in the heart of every American, had left his young wife, and all the luxurious indulgence of his palatial home, that he might fight in the battles of American patriots against British despotism. In his application to Congress for employment Lafayette wrote:

“After many sacrifices I have the right to ask two favors. One is to serve at my own expense; the other to commence serving as a volunteer.”

The commanding air yet modest bearing immediately attracted the attention of Washington, and a life-long friendship was commenced. He said to the rich young nobleman who was familiar with the splendid equipments of the armies of Europe:

“We ought to feel embarrassed in presenting ourselves before an officer just from the French army.”

The reply of Lafayette, alike characteristic of him and of the polite nation, was:

“It is to learn, and not to instruct, that I came here.”[152]

For the defence of Philadelphia the militia of Pennsylvania, Delaware and Northern Virginia were called out. Washington with his troops marched through the city, and established his headquarters at Wilmington, at the confluence of the Brandywine and Christiana Creek. There were many tories in Philadelphia. Washington wished to make such a display of his military power as to overawe them.

He rode at the head of the army accompanied by a numerous staff. Lafayette was by his side. They marched, with as imposing array as possible, down Front and up Chestnut street.

“The long column of the army, broken into divisions and brigades, the pioneers, with their axes, the squadrons of horse, the extended train of artillery, the tramp of steed, the bray of trumpet, and the spirit-stirring sound of drum and fife, all had an imposing effect on a peaceful city, unused to the sight of marshaled armies.”[153]

While Philadelphia was thus imperiled, General Burgoyne was advancing upon the Hudson from Canada, with a strong and well-conditioned army.[154] The tories were flocking to his standard. A large band of northern Indians accompanied him. There was a very beautiful girl, Jane McCrea, the daughter of a New Jersey clergyman, who was visiting a family on the upper waters of the Hudson.

Her lover, to whom she was engaged to be married, was a tory, and was in the British army. Under these circumstances she felt no anxiety, in reference to her personal safety, from the approach of Burgoyne’s troops. Still, at the urgent solicitation of some of her friends, she decided to embark in a large bateau, with several other families, to descend the river to Albany.

On the morning of the intended embarkation, suddenly the hideous yell of the savage was heard. A demoniac band surrounded the house, and Miss McCrea was seized as a captive. A quarrel arose among the savages as to who was entitled to the prize. In the fray an Indian, maddened probably with rum as well as rage, buried his tomahawk in her brain. He then stripped off her scalp, and her gory body was left unburied.

Burgoyne was naturally a humane man. He was horror-stricken in view of this deed. But the murderer was a renowned chief and warrior. At any attempt to punish him, all the Indians would desert his camp. Consequently the crime was unpunished. The manifest displeasure of Burgoyne exasperated the Indians, and they soon all disappeared, carrying with them all the plunder they could obtain.[155]

The British troops were rendezvoused at Fort Edward, not far from Crown Point. The British had large forces in this region. They were able to detach seventeen hundred men to besiege Fort Schuyler, formerly called Fort Stanwix, on the right bank of the Mohawk River, at the head of navigation. Colonel St. Leger had command of this force. He had gathered a large band of savages. From behind the forest trees they kept up a constant fire upon any of the garrison who exposed themselves to repair the parapets when injured by shot or shell. At night the woods were filled with their fiend-like yells and howlings.

A party of eight hundred men was sent to the rescue of the garrison. One of the most desperate and bloody battles of the Revolution took place. Both parties suffered terribly. Each side lost about four hundred in killed and wounded. Still the loss was by no means equal. The British regulars were generally the offscouring of the cities of Europe. But the Americans who fell were among the most worthy and intelligent of husbands and sons in the farm-houses of the valley of the Mohawk. Neither party admitted a defeat, and neither claimed a victory. The Americans still held the fort.[156]

The German troops were very reluctant to recognize the Indians as their allies. One of the Hessian officers wrote:

“These savages are heathens, 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.”[157]

Burgoyne was encamped east of the Hudson, near Saratoga. A bridge of boats crossed the river. Colonel Baum was despatched by him to Bennington, with five hundred men, to seize a large amount of American stores, which were deposited there. The Americans mustered from all quarters to repel them, under the rustic but heroic General Stark. Riding at the head of his troops, he exclaimed as soon as the British appeared in sight:

“Now my men! There are the red-coats. Before night they must be ours or Molly Stark will be a widow.”

The clouds of a drenching storm had passed away, and a serene morning of surpassing loveliness dawned upon the landscape, when five hundred British and Hessian regulars met, face to face, seven hundred American farmers, many of whom had rushed from their firesides, seizing their ordinary firelocks without bayonets.

The battle was fought, on both sides, with equal desperation. Baum had artillery well posted. Stark had none. The Americans made the assault in front, flank, and rear. The British with stolid bravery stood to their guns in resistance. After a battle of two hours, during which the roar of the conflict resembled an incessant clap of thunder, the foe was utterly routed. Many were killed, more wounded, and more taken prisoners.

Just then a strong, well-armed reinforcement came to the aid of the British, when the Americans, disorganized by victory were, in broken ranks, plundering the British camp. In vain Stark endeavored to rally them. An awful defeat threatened to follow their signal victory, when, very opportunely, Colonel Seth Warner arrived with fresh American troops from Bennington.

It was four o’clock in the afternoon. Another battle was fought with renewed ferocity. Again the American farmers put the British regulars to flight. Night alone enabled the fugitives to escape. It was a grand victory, both in its immediate achievements and its remote results. Four brass field-pieces, a thousand stands of arms, and four wagons of ammunition fell into the hands of the Americans. They also captured thirty-two officers, and five hundred and sixty-four privates. The number of the British who were slain is not known. The battle spread far and wide through the forest, and there was probably many an awful tragedy as poor wounded soldiers, in those gloomy depths, slowly perished of starvation and misery. The Americans lost one hundred in killed and wounded.

Language can hardly describe the exultation with which the American farmers learned that they could meet the British regulars, in the open field, and at disadvantage, and yet beat them. From all quarters, the young men seized their guns and rushed to the American camp. They surrounded Burgoyne. They cut off his supplies. They drove back his foraging parties. Burgoyne became alarmed. He was far removed from any reinforcements. He soon awoke to the terrible apprehension, that he might be reduced to the humiliation of surrendering his whole army to farmers’ boys, whose soldierly qualities he had affected so thoroughly to despise.

Washington was at Wilmington, near Philadelphia, when he heard the tidings of this great victory. He was watching the British fleet which, conveying an army of nearly twenty thousand men, was evidently directing its course toward Philadelphia. He wrote to General Putnam:

“As there is not now the least danger of General Howe’s going to New England, I hope the whole force of that country will turn out, and by following the great stroke struck by General Stark, near Bennington, entirely crush General Burgoyne, who, by his letter to Colonel Baum, seems to be in want of almost every thing.”

The British troops, who had been sent, under St. Leger, to capture Fort Stanwix, and ravage the valley of the Mohawk, broke up the camp in a panic, and fled to Saratoga. They took to flight in such a hurry that they left behind them their tents, artillery, ammunition, stores, and most of their baggage. A detachment from the garrison harassed them in their flight. But they received more severe and richly merited punishment from their savage allies, who plundered them mercilessly, massacred all who lagged in the rear, and finally disappeared in the forest laden with spoil.

The battle at Bennington took place on the 16th of August. Nine days after this, on the 25th of August, General Howe began to land his army from the fleet, in Elk river, near the head of Chesapeake Bay, about six miles below the present town of Elkton. He was then seventy miles from Philadelphia. After sundry marchings and countermarchings, with various skirmishes, the two armies met, on the opposite banks of a small stream called the Brandywine, which empties into the Delaware, about twenty-five miles below Philadelphia.

It was the 8th of September. Washington had eleven thousand men he could lead into the field. They were but poorly armed and equipped. General Howe had eighteen thousand Regulars; fifteen thousand of whom he brought into action. His troops were in the finest condition, both as to discipline and armament.

General Howe had learned to respect his foe. He advanced with great caution, and displayed much military ability in his tactics. It was not until the 11th, that the battle took place. It was fought with desperation. Lafayette conducted with great heroism, and was wounded by a bullet passing through his leg. The Americans, after a very sanguinary conflict, were overpowered, and were driven from the field. General Howe did not venture to pursue them. At Chester, twelve miles from the field of battle, the defeated army rallied, as the shades of night were deepening around them.

Dreadful was the consternation, in Philadelphia, when the tidings of the disastrous battle reached the city. The field of conflict was distant about twenty-five miles. Through the day the roar of this awful tempest of war had been heard, like the mutterings of distant thunder. Patriots and tories, with pale faces and trembling lips, met in different groups, crowding the streets and squares. Toward evening a courier brought the intelligence that the American army was in full retreat. Many of the patriots, in their consternation, abandoned home and everything, and fled with their families to the mountains. Congress adjourned to Lancaster and subsequently to Yorktown. Washington was invested with dictatorial powers, for a distance of seventy miles around his headquarters, to be in force for sixty days.[158]

Notwithstanding the defeat of the Americans, General Howe followed the retreating army slowly and with great caution. He had not forgotten Washington’s crossing of the Delaware, and had learned to respect the military ability of his foe. He spent the night after the battle, and the two following days, on the battle-field. Washington quietly retired across the Schuylkill to Germantown, but a short distance from Philadelphia. His troops were not disheartened. Overpowered by numbers, they regarded their repulse as a check rather than a defeat.

General Howe reported his loss to be ninety killed, six hundred wounded, and six missing. He gave the American loss at three hundred killed, six hundred wounded and four hundred taken prisoners. His estimate of the American loss must have been entirely conjectural; since General Washington made no return of his loss to Congress.[159]