The Land We Live In The Story of Our Country
Chapter 58
The British Move Upon the South--Spain Accedes to the Alliance Against England--Secret Convention Between France and Spain--Capture of Stony Point--John Paul Jones--The Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis--A Thrilling Naval Combat--Wretched Condition of American Finances-- Franklin's Heavy Burden--The Treason of Benedict Arnold--Capture of André--Escape of Arnold--André Executed as a Spy--Sir Henry Clinton Captures Charleston, General Lincoln and His Army--Lord Cornwallis Left in Command in the South--The British Defeat Gates Near Camden, South Carolina--General Nathaniel Greene Conducts a Stubborn Campaign Against Cornwallis--The Latter Retreats Into Virginia--Siege of Yorktown-- Cornwallis Surrenders--"Oh, God; it is All Over!"
Toward the close of 1778, the British undertook to conquer the Southern States, beginning with Georgia, where an expedition by sea would be within reach of aid from the British troops occupying Florida. The American forces in Georgia were weak in numbers, and although bravely led by General Robert Howe, they were unable to resist the British. Savannah fell, and Georgia passed under the rule of the invaders, the royal governor being reinstated. To counterbalance this discouragement news arrived from Europe early in 1779 that Spain had acceded to the Franco-American combination against England. Spain, unlike France, sent no troops to America to assist the patriots, although the hostile attitude of the Spaniards toward Great Britain, and the capture of the British post of St. Joseph by a Spanish expedition from St. Louis, in 1781, aided in strengthening the American cause in the West, and making the British less aggressive in that direction.
Recent disclosures have shown that the secret convention between France and Spain, at this time, was in no sense hostile to American interests, as at first asserted and afterward intimated by the historian Bancroft. On the contrary, Spain bound herself not to lay down arms until the independence of the United States should be recognized by Great Britain, while the condition that Spanish territory held by England should be restored to Spain did not militate against the territorial claims of the United States. It was clearly better for the United States, looking forward to future expansion, that adjoining territory should be held by Spain in preference to England. The history of the past hundred years proves this. Canada remains British, while every foot of former Spanish territory in North America is now part of the United States.
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The summer of 1779 witnessed General Anthony Wayne's memorable exploit, the capture of Stony Point. The fort, situated at the King's Ferry, on the Hudson, stood upon a rocky promontory, connected with the mainland by a causeway across a narrow marsh. This causeway was covered by the tide at high water. Lieutenant-Colonel Johnson commanded the garrison, consisting of a regiment of foot, some grenadiers and artillery. General Wayne led his troops, the Massachusetts light infantry, through defiles in the mountains, and moved on the fort about midnight. The Americans went to the attack in two columns, with unloaded muskets and fixed bayonets. They were unseen until within pistol-shot of the pickets. Undeterred by the hasty discharge of musketry and cannon the Americans pressed on with the bayonet, the two columns meeting in the centre of the fort. The garrison surrendered, and the Americans, after removing the ordnance and stores to West Point, and destroying the works, abandoned the place.
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What American schoolboy's heart does not thrill at the name of John Paul Jones, that redoubtable sailor, who carried the American flag into English seas, and made Britons feel in some degree the injuries their king was inflicting on America! John Paul Jones was a Scotchman by birth; an American by adoption. His original name was John Paul, and he added the name of Jones after taking up his abode in Virginia. As early as 1775, when Congress determined to organize a navy, Jones was commissioned as first lieutenant, and in command of the sloop Providence he made several important captures of British merchant vessels. As commander of the Ranger, in 1777, Jones captured the British man-of-war Drake, made successful incursions on the British coast, and seized many valuable prizes.
In August, 1779, Jones started on a cruise in command of an old Indiaman, which he called, in compliment to Franklin, the Bon Homme Richard. Associated with the Bon Homme Richard were the Alliance and the Pallas, and one smaller vessel officered by Frenchmen, but under the American flag. On September 23, Jones encountered, off Flamborough Head, a fleet of forty British merchantmen, under convoy of the Serapis, Captain Pearson, of forty-four guns, and the Countess of Scarborough, a ship of twenty guns. Regardless of the enemy's strength the American commander gave the signal for battle. Unfortunately Captain Landais of the Alliance was subject to fits of insanity and had been put in command of that ship against the wishes of Jones. Landais failed to obey orders and was worse than useless during the fight. Jones was however gallantly supported by the Pallas, which engaged and captured the Countess of Scarborough, leaving Jones a free field with his principal antagonist, the Serapis. No fiercer naval conflict has been recorded in history. The fight lasted from seven o'clock in the evening until eleven o'clock, most of the time in darkness. The Bon Homme Richard got so close to the Serapis in the beginning of the battle that their spars and rigging became entangled together, and Jones attempted to board the British vessel. A stubborn hand-to-hand struggle ensued, Jones and his men being repulsed. Then the Bon Homme Richard dropped loose from her antagonist, and with their guns almost muzzle to muzzle, the two vessels poured broadsides into each other. The American guns did destructive work, the Serapis catching fire in several places.
About half past nine the moon rose on the fearful conflict. The Bon Homme Richard caught fire at this time, while the water poured in through rents made by British cannon. The two vessels had again come closer, but not so as to prevent the guns from being handled. While the cannon roared and the flames shot up, the two crews again met in desperate hand-to-hand strife, for it was evident that one of the two vessels must be lost. By the light of the flames Jones saw that the mainmast of the Serapis was cut almost in two. Quickly he gave the order, and another double-headed shot finished the work. Captain Pearson, who had commanded his ship most gallantly, hauled down his flag and surrendered. Alluding to the fact that the British government had proclaimed Jones a pirate, Pearson said: "It is painful to deliver up my sword to a man who has fought with a rope around his neck." Jones took possession of the Serapis, and the Bon Homme Richard sank beneath the waves the second day after the engagement. The Congress voted to Jones a gold medal and the thanks of the nation. Franklin's report of October 17, 1779, to the Commissioners of the Navy, giving news of the victory, shows that the American cruisers were causing great devastation to British commerce.
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The exploits of Anthony Wayne and Paul Jones served to lighten the gloom caused by the defeat of General Lincoln in his attempt to recapture Savannah, and by the depressed condition of American finances, which made it difficult to carry on the war. It was the earnest desire of Congress to push the struggle vigorously, and large sums of money were necessary for that purpose. The Continental currency issued under authority of Congress had so decreased in purchasing power as to be almost worthless; the army suffered great distress for lack of clothing and food, and the supply of munitions of war fell far short of military needs. Benjamin Franklin labored unceasingly to meet the incessant drafts upon him as agent of the United States in France, and but for the unbounded confidence which Louis XVI. and his great minister, Vergennes, had in Franklin's assurances, the United States might have been so paralyzed financially as to fall a prey to Great Britain. It was in the midst of this gloom and uncertainty that General Benedict Arnold, the hero of Quebec and Saratoga, sought to sell his country to the British.
An able general and as brave a soldier as wore the American uniform, Arnold was bitterly disappointed because he failed to receive from Congress all the recognition which he thought he deserved. He might not, however, have become a traitor but for his pecuniary difficulties, while undoubtedly the Tory sympathies of his wife, whom he married in Philadelphia in 1778, had a marked influence upon him. In July. 1780, Arnold, at his own request, was appointed by Washington to command West Point, the great American fortress commanding the Hudson River. The capture of West Point by the British would have accomplished for their cause what Burgoyne had failed to achieve--the cutting off of the Northern from the Middle and Southern States, and the establishment of the British in an almost impregnable position on the Hudson. Arnold entered into negotiations with Sir Henry Clinton, the British commander at New York, for the surrender of West Point. For this service Arnold was to be made a brigadier-general in the British army and to receive $50,000 in gold. Major John André, adjutant-general of the British army, conducted the correspondence on behalf of Clinton. André went up the Hudson in the British sloop of war Vulture, and had a secret meeting with Arnold near Haverstraw. It was arranged between them that Clinton should sail up the Hudson with a strong force and attack West Point, and Arnold, after a show of resistance, would surrender the post. When André was ready to go back to New York the Vulture had been compelled to drop down stream, and André had to cross the river and proceed on horseback. He was about entering Tarrytown, when a man armed with a gun, sprang suddenly from the thicket, and seizing the reins of his bridle exclaimed: "Where are you bound?" At the same instant two more ran up, and André was a prisoner. He offered them gold, his horse and permanent provision from the English government if they would let him escape, but the young men--John Paulding, David Williams and Isaac Van Wart--rejected all his offers, and insisted on taking him to the nearest American post.[1] André had a pass from Arnold in which the former was called "John Anderson." Colonel Jameson, commander of the post to which André was brought, did not suspect any treason on the part of Arnold, and allowed André to send a letter to that general.
[1] Charges were made by André himself, and echoed in Congress at a much later period by Colonel Benjamin Tallmadge, who had the custody of André, to the effect that the captors of the ill-fated British officer were corrupt, and only held him because they could profit more than by letting him go. On this point the testimony of Alexander Hamilton, who passed much time with André previous to his execution, and had full opportunity to weigh his statements, ought to be sufficient. In a letter to Colonel Sears General Hamilton thus compared the captors of André with Arnold: "This man" (Arnold), "is in every sense despicable. * * * To his conduct that of the captors of André forms a striking contrast; he tempted their integrity with the offer of his watch, his horse, and any sum of money they should name. They rejected his offers with indignation; and the gold that could seduce a man high in the esteem and confidence of his country, who had the remembrance of his past exploits, the motives of present reputation and future glory to prop his integrity, had no charms for three simple peasants, leaning only on their virtue, and a sense of duty."
Meantime Washington, who had gone to Hartford to consult with the French general Rochambeau about making an attack on New York, returned sooner than expected. Hamilton and Lafayette, of Washington's staff, went forward to breakfast with Arnold, while Washington was inspecting a battery. At the breakfast table André's letter was handed to Arnold. The traitor perceived at once that discovery was inevitable, and excusing himself to his guests as calmly as if going out on an ordinary errand, he went to his wife's room, embraced her, and bade her farewell. Mounting a horse of one of his aides, Arnold rode swiftly to the river bank. There he entered his barge and was rowed to the Vulture.
André was tried by court-martial on the charge of being a spy, convicted and executed October 2, 1780. The captors of André were rewarded with a silver medal and $200 a year for life. Arnold received the reward for which he had offered to betray his country. Washington, who was far from being vindictive, made repeated attempts to get possession of Arnold in order to punish him for his treason.
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While the war was languishing in the North it was being carried on with vigor in the South. Sir Henry Clinton, in the spring of 1780, captured the city of Charleston, with General Lincoln and all his army. Clinton then returned to New York, leaving Lord Cornwallis in command of the British. Another American army, mostly militiamen and new recruits, many of whom had never handled a bayonet, was formed in North Carolina, and placed unfortunately under the command of the incompetent Gates. The British met Gates at Sander's Creek, near Camden, and after a sharp conflict the Americans were completely routed. British and Tories were now more barbarous than ever in their treatment of patriots who fell into their hands, and repeated executions of Americans on pretended charges of violating compulsory oaths of allegiance, or no charges at all, excited thirst for retribution among the friends of liberty. General Nathaniel Greene, of Quaker birth, but one of the greatest soldiers of the Revolution, was sent to command a new army of the South; with Daniel Morgan, William Washington and Henry Lee--known as "Light-horse Harry" and father of the Confederate commander, Robert E. Lee--as his lieutenants. Morgan, at Cowpens, annihilated Tarleton's Legion, which had committed many cruelties in South Carolina. Greene fought the British at Guilford, Hobkirk's Hill and Eutaw Springs, and although he did not win a battle, he left the enemy, on each occasion, in much worse condition than before the encounter. Cornwallis, the British commander, although not defeated, was becoming weaker and weaker, and he retreated into Virginia, from an enemy whose every repulse was a British disaster.
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The final act in the mighty drama was now approaching. From the Potomac to the confines of Florida the Southland was aroused against the British as it never could have been aroused except for the barbarities which Cornwallis perpetrated and sanctioned. The British commander was behind the intrenchments at Yorktown with an army of about eight thousand men and a horde of Tories who had been willing agents in carrying out against their own countrymen the atrocious decrees which for a time made a Poland of the Carolinas. Sir Henry Clinton, thoroughly deceived by the movements of Washington and Rochambeau, was anxious only to protect New York, and the victorious fleet of France was prepared to cut off the escape of Cornwallis by the sea. Washington and Rochambeau, with the allied armies, marched against Yorktown from their rendezvous at Williamsburg on September 28. They drove in the British outposts, and began siege operations so promptly and vigorously that the place was completely invested on the thirtieth by a semi-circular line of the allied forces, each wing resting on the York River. The Americans held the right; the French the left. A small body of British at Gloucester, opposite Yorktown, was beset by a force consisting of French dragoons and marines, and Virginia militia. Heavy ordnance was brought from the French ships, and on the afternoon of October 9, the artillery opened on the British. Red-hot balls were hurled upon the British vessels in the river, and the flames shooting up from a 44-gun ship showed that fire was doing its work. Under cover of night parallels were thrown up closer and closer to the British lines, and the besieged saw the chain which they could not break tightening around them. The Americans and French carried by storm two redoubts which commanded the trenches, and now Cornwallis had to take his choice between flight or surrender, if flight were possible. He determined to flee, but a terrible storm made the passing of the river too dangerous, and a few troops who had crossed over were brought back to Yorktown.
French and Americans poured shot and shell into the British intrenchments, and the bombardment grew heavier day by day. The superior forces and strong situation of the besiegers made it impossible to break through their lines. It would not even have been a forlorn hope. No course now remained but to surrender. Cornwallis sought to make the best terms possible. He has been severely and plausibly criticised for abandoning the Tory refugees to American justice and vengeance. Horace Walpole, writing in safe and comfortable quarters, far from siege or battlefield, said that Cornwallis "ought to have declared that he would die rather than sacrifice the poor Americans who had followed him from loyalty, against their countrymen." Had Cornwallis so declared he would doubtless have had a chance to die without any objection on the part of the patriots on whose friends and relatives he had inflicted devilish cruelties. Cornwallis was obliged to choose between perishing with all his army, or accepting the terms which his conquerors saw fit to grant. Apart from the formal articles of surrender he obtained the informal consent of the allies that certain Tories most obnoxious to their countrymen should be permitted to depart to New York in the vessel which carried dispatches from the British commander to Sir Henry Clinton.[2] General Lincoln, who had been compelled to surrender to the royal troops at Charleston in the previous year, received the sword of Cornwallis from General O'Hara, and twenty-eight British captains, each bearing a flag in a case, handed over their colors to twenty-eight American sergeants. The number of troops surrendered was about 7000, and to these were added 2000 sailors, 1500 Tories and 1800 negroes. The British lost during the siege in killed, wounded and missing about 550 men; the Americans lost about 300. The spoils included nearly 8000 muskets, 75 brass and 160 iron cannon and a large quantity of munitions of war and military stores, as well as "about one hundred vessels, above fifty of them square-rigged."[3] On the day after the surrender Washington ordered every American soldier under arrest or in confinement to be set at liberty, and as the next day would be Sunday he directed that divine service should be performed in the several brigades.
[2] Walpole is right, however, in pointing out that the unconditional surrender of the refugees by Cornwallis had an important influence in bringing the war to a close by depriving the British of American support and sympathy. "It was a virtual end of the war," he says. "Could one American, unless those shut up in New York and Charleston, even out of prudence and self-preservation, declare for England, by whose general they were so unfeelingly abandoned?"
[3] Livingston to Dana, October 22, 1781.
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"Oh God, it is all over!" exclaimed Lord North, on hearing that Cornwallis had surrendered. And it was all over, although we have Franklin's authority that George III. continued to hope for a revival of his sovereignty over America "on the same terms as are now making with Ireland." These hopes were soon dissipated, and a treaty of peace was finally signed at Paris, September 23, 1783. The British troops sailed away from New York on November 25, and General Washington, after a tender parting with his officers, resigned his commission. A great number of Tory refugees departed from New York with the British, but it is doubtful whether their lot was happier than that of those who remained to accept the new order of things. It is only necessary to glance at the diary of Hutchinson, the royalist governor of Massachusetts, to perceive that, even under the most favorable circumstances, the situation of the exiled Tories was miserable indeed. Many of them settled in Canada, there to hand down to their descendants feelings of antipathy which, in America, have long been discarded. Many of them wisely returned to the United States, and were magnanimously forgiven and received as brethren and citizens. No voice was raised to plead more eloquently in their behalf than that of Patrick Henry. "I feel no objection," he exclaimed, "to the return of those deluded people. They have, to be sure, mistaken their own interests most wofully, and most wofully have they suffered the punishment due to their offences. * * * Afraid of them!--what, sir--shall we who have laid the proud British lion at our feet, now be afraid of his whelps?"
FOURTH PERIOD.
Union.