I must not omit to mention a little affair, that happened in the late engagement. The fire growing hot, and our men beginning to retreat, a British officer singly rode up to a cannon that was playing on the enemy, and with his pistols and hanger [sword] forced every man from it, then seeing Lord Sterling he cried “Come here, you damned rebel, and I will do for you.” Lord Sterling answered him, by directing the fire of four marksmen upon him, which presently silenced the hardy fool, by killing him upon the spot. Our men recovered the field piece which their want of small arms obliged them to abandon.160
Banastre Tarleton, at that time a cornet in the 16th Light Dragoons, confirmed that “in the attack of the Cannon fell the Honorable Capt. Finch of the Light Infantry Guards,” lamenting, as many others did, “a youth strongly attached to his Profession and ever to be regretted if amiable and manly Virtues claim Regard.”161
Howe's night march in two columns on June 25 caught Washington by surprise on the morning of June 26, and Gen. Stirling's Corps at Short Hills was badly defeated by Cornwallis. The Continental forces withdrew back into the hills while the Crown Forces ravaged the area between Westfield and Amboy. Howe's effective use of light troops and his favorite tactic of dividing his forces would be used again at Brandywine.
The dashing young Guardsman was taken back to Perth Amboy, where, three agonizing days later, on Sunday, June 29, John Montrésor sadly recorded in his journal, “Captain Finch…died of his wounds and buried this day at Amboy.”162 News of his death was reported with much sorrow to the highest levels in the army and the British government. “Our loss not worth mentioning if poor Capt. Fynch of the Guards had not been mortally wounded,” Grant informed General Harvey in London, adding, “He was a spirited Young Man, and is regretted by every body.”163 After reading the dispatch that reported the young officer's death, Lord George Germain replied to Howe, “I must always feel great Concern, when I recollect that the army, by the Death of Captain Finch, has been deprived of an officer who gave the strongest Proofs of military Genius, and promised to be an Ornament to the Profession of Arms.”164
Washington's intelligence system failed miserably during this maneuver. “In fact Washingtons Spys if He had any were deceived,” Grant scoffed.165 A congressman fumed, “Was it not shameful to be surprised when the Enemy were within 8 Miles? Nothing but Severity will introduce Discipline into our Armies, and dear bought Experience only can convince our officers & Men of its Utility, nay of its absolute Necessity.”166
Howe's march came as a complete surprise to Washington, according to Adj. Gen. Timothy Pickering:
About seven in the morning a light-horseman brought word to the General, that the enemy were at hand, within two miles and a half. The General ordered the alarm guns to be fired. The men ran briskly to arms. Next, a light-horseman of the enemy was brought in prisoner…. This prisoner said he was taken not more than two and a half miles from head-quarters at Quibbletown. It was surprising to the General, that of so many parties he had ordered out to watch the enemy, none gave him earlier notice of the enemy's advancing…. One body of the enemy having marched toward our left, to attack and pursue Lord Stirling, who was pretty far advanced, General Washington ordered the troops at Quibbletown to retire to the mountains.167
Howe had attempted to draw Washington out of the Watchung Mountains and onto the plains of New Jersey to offer battle to the new Continental Army on level ground. According to Grant, the British themselves were somewhat surprised by Washington's response. “We thought He might probably march small bodies from the Mountains to keep up an appearance of acting offensively,” the Scottish general wrote incredulously, “but did not imagine, that He would wantonly run a Risk of disgracing his Army by exposing Himself to the possible Necessity of a precipitate Retreat, which must have a bad effect upon his Troops, & discourage the Continent at large.”168
The British strategy almost worked; fortunately for Washington, he recognized Howe's intentions at the last minute and quickly pulled his forces back into the Watchungs. “It was judged prudent to return with the army to the mountains,” Alexander Hamilton wrote, “lest it should be their intention to get into them and force us to fight them on their own terms.”
But prudent moves for the long term do not allay the frustration of soldiers in the short term, as Hamilton was aware. “It is painful to leave a part of the inhabitants a prey to their depredations; and it is wounding to the feelings of a soldier, to see an enemy parading before him and daring him to a fight which he is obliged to decline,” he said bristling. “But a part must be sacrificed to the whole, and passion must give way to reason.” Washington's strategy was clear: “Our business then is to avoid a General engagement and waste the enemy away by constantly goading their sides, in a desultory way.” The American Fabius would continue employing Fabian tactics.
The plain truth was that the Continental Army was not yet ready for a major battle with a professional European force. Numbers of troops did not matter nearly as much as quality, professionalism, and experience. But all of that was immaterial, for in each of these areas, the Crown Forces were superior by far.
Washington knew all too well that his survival since January was nothing short of astonishing, and it would have been foolish to waste his good fortune on a dare from Howe. “The liberties of America are an infinite stake,” Hamilton pointed out. “We should not play a desperate game for it or put it upon the issue of the single cast of the die. The loss of one general engagement may effectually ruin us, and it would certainly be folly to hazard it.”
Nonetheless, Hamilton anticipated that Washington would be severely criticized for his withdrawal. “I know the comments that some people will make on our Fabian conduct,” he wrote. “It will be imputed either to cowardice or to weakness: But the more discerning, I trust, will not find it difficult to conceive that it proceeds from the truest policy.”169
The young colonel was right. Of the June maneuvers, an increasingly impatient John Adams wrote on June 29, “The two Armies are now playing off their Arts. Each acts with great Caution. Howe is as much afraid of putting any Thing to Hazard as Washington.”170 Adams, the very member of Congress who had sponsored Washington as commander in chief in 1775, was becoming one of his critics.
The Battle of Short Hills took place on the morning of what proved to be a miserably hot summer day. As His Majesty's forces continued on the road to Westfield, heat exhaustion and sunstroke began to take a toll on the men. The sudden, sheer parapet of the Watchung Mountains reflected waves of intense heat into the flat, sandy plains of North Jersey, turning the area into a baking inferno blanketed with humidity. To make matters worse, little drinkable water could be found, for many of the creeks in that region were brackish. When water was found, the men drank it greedily, with disastrous results. “The day proving so intensly hot, that the men could with difficulty continue their march homeward,” Sgt. Thomas Sullivan of the 49th wrote, “many of them dropping dead in the Ranks through the means of drinking too much water.”171 Captain Montrésor reported, “One man raved with a coup de soleil [sunstroke] and fired at our own flankers.”172 Major Stuart told his father of “20 men who dropp'd down dead from the heat or fatigue.”173
The pattern of mindless destruction continued along the route, exacerbated by the sniping of American riflemen and the heat. “They marched up as far as Westfield, plundering and burning Houses and driving off what little stock remained,” Washington told Congress.174 Alexander Hamilton reported, “They remained at Westfield ’till the next day…plundering and burning as usual…. They got three field pieces from us, which will give them room for vapouring, and embellish their excursion, in the eyes of those, who make every trifle a matter of importance.”175 Ironically, Captain Fitzpatrick of the Guards wrote in a similar vein, “The advantage we gained was however in reality of no consequence though I suppose they will endeavour to magnify it prodigiously.”176
The Crown Forces camped for the night at Westfield, reserving
special treatment for the Westfield Presbyterian Meeting House. The Presbyterians and New England Congregationalists were Calvinist “Dissenter” churches, which were anti-Anglican and as such were regarded by many as the chief instigators of the Revolution, so their meetinghouses were often targeted by British forces. “Places of public worship seem everywhere marked as objects of their fury and bigoted rage,” wrote Col. Timothy Pickering, who witnessed the results of an especially deliberate and disgusting act of desecration. “At Westfield the meeting-house was converted into a slaughter-house, and the entrails of the cattle thrown into the pulpit.”177 “The enemy even destroyed all the bibles and books of divinity they came across; this I assert as a fact,” wrote an anonymous American officer in a letter published in The Pennsylvania Gazette to arouse public indignation.178
The following day, Howe's army continued on a wide sweeping circuit to Rahway, followed at a distance by American light troops. “The spirit of depredation was but too prevalent on these marches,” Capt. John André admitted. “This day, however, it was much restrained in the Second Column (then in front)…. The Army hutted this night along the banks of Rahway, six miles from Amboy.”179
Among the American troops in pursuit was Maj. Samuel Hay of the 7th Pennsylvania Regiment in Wayne's Brigade. “About 800 turned out volunteers under Brig. Genl. Scott, of which your humble Servant was one & 80 men of the regiment,” Hay wrote to his commander, Colonel Irvine. “We kept upon the rear until we convoyed them into Amboy; our intention was to harass them on their march, but they made their dispositions so well that we were not able to do them much damage, as we had no field pieces.” As for plundering, “We prevented them from robbing the country, as they durst not send out any parties for that purpose; but along the road where they went, they stole sheep, cattle, and hogs, & robbed & plundered the houses as they went along, & committed such barbarities on the female sex as would make me blush to mention.”180
Once again, the suffocating heat wrought havoc among the troops. “Several men died on this March from the Excessive Heat,” Capt. Archibald Robertson of the British Engineers noted.181 “The march was very strenuous again and the day unbearably hot, to which was added a shortage of beverages,” Quartermaster Carl Bauer of the Hessian Platte Grenadier Battalion wrote. “Our regiment lost a man who was so worn out by the heat and march that he dropped dead.”182
On June 28, “the army marched back in two columns to its former encampment at Amboy,” Capt. Johann Ewald stated. “On this march an enemy party followed our rear guard, but it was constantly repelled by the jägers.”183 Washington commented the next day, “Whether, finding themselves a little disgrac'd by their former move, they wanted to flourish off a little at quitting the Jerseys, or, whether by this sudden eruption they meant to possess themselves of as much fresh Provision as they could, plunder the Inhabitants; and spread desolation…I know not; but certain it is they have left nothing which they could carry off, Robbing, Plundering, and burning Houses as they went. We followed them with light Troops to their Works at Amboy, but could not prevent the Desolation they committed.”184 Grant sneered, “We were much obliged to Washington & his Generals for putting it in our power to leave the Jerseys with Éclat.”185
Grant was elated by the maneuvers: “I do not think they have been so much down since the affair of Trenton, but the Mercury in a Thermometre or the Tides are not more easily affected than the spirits of our American Sons of Liberty—they will avoid a General Action, but are averse to accommodation.” He boasted to General Harvey, “We can go where we please & beat them where ever We find them, their Woods are no security to them, our Light Infantry & Chasseurs [Jägers] are infinitely superior to them.” Yet despite these advantages, even Grant recognized the reality of the larger picture: “But how the business is to be brought to a Conclusion I know not, We have no Friends & Lenity will not make our Enemys good Subjects—I have never varied from that opinion since I landed at Boston.”186
Captain Fitzpatrick of the Guards would have agreed with Grant about having no friends, but for widely different reasons. “The Army is disconcerted & Exasperated to the most violent degree, and seem to consider laying the whole country waste & extirpating the inhabitants as the only means of putting an end to the war,” the increasingly pessimistic Whig officer told his brother Lord Ossory. “Declaring everywhere these sentiments, & permitting if not encouraging, all kinds of pillage, plunder, & barbarity, they are astonished to find they have not a single friend in the country.” Horrified by the actions of some of the men, he told his brother in disgust, “The stories of cruelty related on both sides are dreadful, but I assure you since I have been in this country I have heard many more instances of it amongst ourselves than ever I heard in England; & I could send you a collection of horrible examples of it that would make your blood run cold to read.”187
On Sunday, June 29, the Crown Forces rested, and the Guards buried John Finch in the Anglican churchyard at Perth Amboy. The following day, in the midst of wind and rain, they moved out. “This morning early began to call in our posts which were advanced…1/2 past 3 this afternoon when the Province of New Jersey was entirely evacuated by the King's Troops,” Captain Montrésor wrote of the historic moment. “The Rebels were so disconcerted by the secret and very unexpected movement of the army on the 26th Instant that not a shot has been fired by them since.”188
After all of the maneuvering, destruction, and bloodshed, New Jersey was again in American hands. “We have abandoned the Jerseys, & left Genl. Washington to enjoy the satisfaction of having sent us pour chercher fortune ailleurs [to seek fortune elsewhere],” Richard Fitzpatrick told his brother. “He was a little too much elated with his first triumph in having obliged us to leave him behind us, & gave us an opportunity of giving him a little rap before we took our leaves by following us rather too close.”189 Major Stuart told Lord Bute, “The consequence of this last unlucky retreat is that we have more clearly united those who were disaffected; we have helped to increase and inspirit the rebel army, and we have begun a campaign, that well managed would settle the affairs of this country, with the stigma of a retreat.”190
Thus on Monday, June 30, 1777, after a year of hard campaigning, the British Army was back where it started: Staten Island, where it had first landed on July 2, 1776, the same day that Congress had adopted the resolution on independence. New York City and its immediate environs were under British control, as was Newport, Rhode Island. In that same period, Washington had had his army all but destroyed, rallied the cause of independence, and in six months rebuilt the Continental Army and the American Revolution. “An angel from Heaven cou'd not have the confidence of the Troops equal to Genl Washington,” Col. Percy Frazer told his wife, Polly, on July 2.191
“As an Officer, he is quite popular, almost idolized by the Southern Provinces, but I think he is not so great a favourite with the Northern ones,” Nicholas Cresswell observed about Washington. “The ignorant and deluded part of the people look up to him as the Saviour and Protector of their Country, and have implicit confidence in everything he does. The artful and designing part of the people, that is, the Congress and those at the head of affairs, look upon him as a necessary tool to compass their diabolical purposes.” With grudging admiration, this astute Englishman further commented, “Washington, my Enemy as he is, I should be sorry if he should be brought to an ignominious death.”
As he sailed for England in July after three years in America, where he had maintained his English patriotism against many difficulties, a bitter and disillusioned Cresswell wrote, “General Howe, a man brought up to War from his youth, to be puzzled and plagued for two years together, with a Virginia Tobacco planter. O! Britain, how thy Laurels tarnish in the hands of such a Lubber!” He added that Washington “certainly deserves some merit as a General, that he with his Banditti, can keep General Howe dancing from one town to another for two years together, with such an Army as he has.” Frustrated by Howe, he scribbled, “Confound t
he great Chucclehead, he will not unmuzzle the mastiffs, or they would eat him and his ragged crew in a little time were they properly conducted with a man of resolution and spirit.”
Viewing the desolate Connecticut shoreline from Long Island Sound, Cresswell could not help but ruminate over the terrible changes that war had brought to America:
If we have good luck, we shall not be long before we leave sight of this unhappy Country, this Country, turned Topsy Turvy, changed from an earthy paradise to a Hell upon terra firma. I have seen this a happy Country and I have seen it miserable in the short space of three years. The Villainous arts of a few and the obstinacy of many on this side of the Water, added to the complicated blunders, cowardice and knavery of some of our blind guides in England, have totally ruined the Country. I wish the Devil had them. These unhappy wretches have substituted tyranny, oppression and slavery for liberty and freedom.192
On Tuesday, July 1, at British general headquarters in New York City, Deputy Adj. Gen. Stephen Kemble wrote in his journal, “Gen. Sir William Howe came this Evening from Staten Island to New York; nothing extraordinary.”193
CHAPTER 2
“Where the storm will turn now, no one knows as yet.”
THE MIDDLE ATLANTIC STATES, JULY–AUGUST 1777
Tongues of fire and pillars of smoke spewed from the blackened mouths of naval cannons thundering in the Delaware River, “which was terrible to hear,” as one unhappy citizen put it, shaking buildings and rattling windows all over Philadelphia.1 Thick, billowing white clouds engulfed warships streaming with flags and pennants, blanketing the water with a choking, sulfurous haze. In Second Street, amidst the screams of children and shouts from civilians, soldiers who had seen years of service in the British Army stood in double ranks, took aim, and discharged their weapons one after another down the line in rapid sequence like a huge string of firecrackers, the deafening reports of the muskets amplified by the time-stained brick walls of the houses. Drums rumbled and fifes squealed as plumes of acrid smoke enveloped the troops and the rotten-egg stink of burned gunpowder hung in the air, layered over the usual stench of city streets in the heat of summer.
The Philadelphia Campaign Page 8