Spies and Deserters

by Martin Ganzglass

  I know in my heart that you have already written and I curse the distance that delays your letter. I will treasure whatever words you write, read and reread them, until your next letter. Your words and the memories we share of our brief time together will sustain me as does the thought that this Separation we must endure will end and we will be entwined again as one.

  Your loving husband

  Will The men of the 2nd Regiment of Colonel Angell’s Rhode Islanders marched eagerly along the pike. They had passed Hartford two days ago and were near the border between Connecticut and Rhode Island. They needed no encouragement and covered eighteen to twenty miles a day, easily outdistancing their wagons loaded with their tents, cots and baggage. Each day ended with their camping just before sunset, waiting for the train, setting up their tents, lighting cooking fires, eating and sleeping. The next morning before daybreak, they struck their tents, ate a cold breakfast, filled their canteens if there was water nearby, and set off. They were part of General Varnum’s Brigade being sent to reinforce the Continental Army in Rhode Island. The men needed no incentive to proceed with the utmost speed, although they had been promised by Colonel Angell they would have a week’s leave, depending upon the military circumstances when they arrived.

  Two nights after they crossed into Rhode Island some of the men swore they could smell the ocean, although they were more than twenty miles from the coast.

  “’Tis your imagination, “ Private Oliver Whipple stated. “Look,” he said holding up a green leaf. The wind is blowing from the northwest.” They were sitting around the cooking fires having unloaded their pots and pans from the wagon, leaving the tents lying on the ground until later. Hunger took precedence over comfort for the moment.

  “I know which way the wind blows but I smell it for certain,” Abraham Fish insisted with conviction in his voice.

  “I smell roasting beef,” one of the soldiers around the fire said.

  The others laughed agreeably. Their morale was high because they

  were going home, regardless of whatever military actions lay ahead.

  That night, Henry and Oliver and some of the others ambled around

  the camp, past the tents of the Rhode Island militias, beyond the

  Massachusetts and New Hampshire State Regiments and up a hilltop. “From here, one can indeed smell the sea,” Oliver said, looking

  toward the east. Henry found the north star and turned his face

  northeast toward where he knew Providence lay. “We will be home

  soon, Oliver. I fear with all these troops marching the Generals have

  plans for battle, where I cannot say.”

  Oliver turned around and surveyed the sparks of yellow flames

  dotting the darkness. “’Tis a pretty sight, like giant fireflies, but for

  knowing that around each light, there sits men armed who will soon

  be in the thick of it and many will not emerge unharmed.” Henry thought of the men from Providence, with whom he had

  signed up, who were no more. Killed at Fort Mercer, Brandywine

  and Germantown, dead of disease at Valley Forge, or wounded and

  invalided and sent home. After all they had been through, and to be

  this close and not to see his wife Judith and his little Sally, would be

  more than he could bear.

  In the first week of August, under a clear blue sky, the men of

  the 2nd Rhode Island Regiment marched into Providence, every one

  of them grinning, and occasionally, in a breach of military discipline,

  waving to the crowds lining the streets. They assembled on the

  Common to hear their orders for the day read to them - four days

  leave, with those from Providence required to report for Regimental

  Roll Call each morning at 8 a.m. 2 The men roared their approval and

  upon being dismissed raced down the familiar stone streets to their

  homes. Others headed for the waterfront to habituate the bars and

  brothels eager for their patronage.

  Early on August 6th, under overcast skies to match their glum

  mood, they left Providence and by nightfall set up camp at Tiverton

  on the mainland across from British-held Aquidneck Island, with

  Newport at its southern tip. They could hear cannon fire to the

  southwest.

  “’Tis the Frenchies giving the Brits a pounding,” Fish said. “Too

  close to be from the river,” he said authoritatively. “Their ships are

  more likely near Newport in the bay channel.”

  “Maybe the Redcoats will surrender and we can all return to our

  homes again,” a soldier’s voice said hopefully from the darkness. “For

  me, there are a few more girls to try at Mrs. Humphrey’s,” another

  added to ribald laughter, whistles and hoots.

  Henry smiled and nudged Oliver. “You have not said much since

  leaving Providence.”

  “My little girls have grown. The youngest did not recognize me

  but warmed after a day. They almost starved while I was away. Now, I am off again.” He waved his arms helplessly. “Worse for me, my brother-in-law was part of a prize crew and narrowly escaped capture when a British sloop intercepted them off the Maine coast. It took him the better part of a fortnight to return home, poorer than when he first

  left. I cannot look to him to support my family.”

  Henry had no words of consolation. He had been overjoyed to be

  with Judith and Sally again and they to see him. He too had noticed his

  wife had seemed thinner, her face pinched and more harried looking.

  Food and necessities were expensive and his pay was worth less each

  month. The good patriotic merchants of Providence were reluctant to

  extend credit, lower prices or even offer a little charity. He and Oliver

  and the rest of his regiment who had signed up for the duration were

  fighting to defend these people who were getting richer because of the

  war. Damn them, he cursed. Filthy war profiteers. Then he dampened

  his anger. No good would come of it.

  “At least Oliver, we are close to our loved ones. After this business

  is over, I am certain we will be given leave again. And with the French

  fleet in the Bay, surely Providence will favor our efforts.” Whipple

  shrugged in reply. “Perhaps,” was all he said.

  The following day, the Regiment was ferried across the Sakonnet

  River and together with the rest of the Brigade marched down the

  eastern side of the island. For a week they left their muskets in their

  tents and dug entrenchments within cannon shot of the British

  batteries in Newport. The first few days were easier. Then steady rains

  came, filling their trenches with pools of water, the newly shoveled

  soil slick under foot and the earth turned to heavy muck. All work

  halted during a storm of hurricane force that blew for two days. When

  it ended, heavy cannon were brought up and positioned in the newly

  dug emplacements. The bombardment of the British positions was

  continuous. In response, their cannons lobbed the occasional ball at

  the Americans at night to disturb them.

  The early morning began with the usual artillery answered by

  a substantial barrage from the British battery. The men of Captain

  Ward’s company occupied the trenches and were relieved around

  midafternoon. In the waning light, when they returned to their tents after gathering wood for cooking fires, they noticed dust rising from

  the East Road.

  “Reinforcements,” Fish said, shielding his eyes with his hand.

  “No,” he concluded quickly, “they are troops an
d wagons heading

  toward Howland’s Ferry and Tiverton.”

  “Maybe the Generals think we have enough men already to storm

  the British in Newport,” one soldier said sarcastically. Henry was

  puzzled but remained silent. He noticed Lieutenant Tew moving from

  place to place speaking quietly to the small groups of men. When he

  reached their platoon, he squatted down on his haunches and talked in

  a low voice. Henry liked the Lieutenant. He had brought a letter from

  Judith to Valley Forge, a kindly gesture.

  “Men,” Tew said. “The French fleet, battered by the hurricane

  and bloodied by the British Navy, have left their position off Newport

  and sailed to Boston for repairs and refitting.”

  There was a chorus of groans. “And the French troops?” a voice

  inquired from the gathering darkness, barely masking the owner’s

  contempt. “The ones they landed with all that musick and such?” “They are on board their ships and will disembark in Boston as

  well.”

  “We can still take the Redcoats, Sir,” Fish said. “Drive them out

  of Newport.” Others joined in agreeing with his sentiment. Tew nodded his accord. “Your steadfastness is admirable and I

  know the Colonel will be proud. Unfortunately, when the news spread

  among the militias, entire regiments deserted en masse and at this very

  moment are leaving the Island. 3

  There were various cries of dismay at the abandonment of the

  Army by both the French and the militias.

  “Damn Frenchies. I knew we could not trust them.” “To hell with them. What about our own militias? Ill-trained

  farmers who run at the first sign of battle. Damn them all.” Lieutenant Tew waited for the men to finish venting their

  frustrations. After the insults and complaints had died down, he

  addressed them again. “Tonight, we must maintain the appearance of

  full strength. You will return to the trenches. Sentries will be assigned

  between the lines.

  We do not want these Redcoats to become emboldened too soon.” 4 Henry’s sentry duty was from midnight to four o’clock. The

  parole was “Saratoga,” the countersign was “Victory.” There were ten

  of them in a copse of trees and shrubs, chilled in the dark, without

  a fire to warm them. By common understanding, no one spoke in

  louder than a whisper. They were on the extreme right of the American

  trenches and could hear the guttural German of the Hessians behind

  their fortifications. Their talk died down in the early morning hours

  and all was quiet.

  Oliver heard the noise first, a foot stepping on a branch, then

  a sucking sound of a boot being pulled from the mud. More sounds

  of movement, quietly creeping toward them. He touched Henry’s

  arm who nodded and alerted the man next to him. They all knelt

  and raised their muskets. Oliver shouted the password and dropped

  to the ground as the reply of musket balls whistled in his direction.

  Henry sighted on the muzzle flash, fired and hurriedly reloaded. He

  hid behind a tree and waited. Another volley from the advancing

  enemy raked the shrubs and branches. He fired again, this time below

  the flash of a musket held by a standing soldier. There were several

  screams for help in German, followed by groans and retreating noises

  of bodies being hauled away as they cried out in pain. Henry did not

  fire where he thought the enemy was. They were withdrawing and that

  was enough. At dawn, they discovered the bulk of the American Army

  had retreated up the Island. 5 Colonel Angell’s Regiment was now part

  of the rearguard.

  After marching for no more than half an hour, Henry and his

  company took up positions behind a stone wall on both sides of the

  road leading up the west side of the island. Through the chinks in the

  stone he could see the Hessians advancing toward them, led by some

  light infantry in hunting green uniforms. Their first disciplined volley

  decimated the Hessians’ well-ordered lines. The next volley, fired by

  their second line forced the enemy to hesitate and then retreat. The

  platoon was ordered to reload and hold their positions.

  Again the Hessians came on and once again the Rhode Islanders

  fired two volleys. This time, instead of remaining, his company

  retreated in good order. Henry lost count of how many times, in the valley between gentle sloping hills, they crouched behind stone walls, fences or hedgerows marking the farmers’ fields. Each time, they let the Hessians closer before firing devastating volleys, took fire in return

  and then, after delaying the enemy’s advance, withdrew. They took cover behind yet another stone wall and waited for the

  oncoming enemy. After taking two concentrated volleys, the Hessians

  continued their advance and, for the first time that morning, made

  it to the American lines. Henry, with the stone wall in front of him,

  raised his musket at an angle, planted his feet firmly and impaled a tall

  mustached soldier attempting to leap over the rocks. He sidestepped

  the Hessian who toppled over, his chest bloody and then on the order of

  “Charge Bayonets,” clambered over the wall. Surprised at the intensity

  and fury of the attack, the Hessians retreated but formed up quickly.

  Henry heard an officer call for them to “Halt!” and “By Company!

  Ready! Take Aim! Fire!” The Hessians were arrayed no more than fifty

  feet away, their front rank kneeling. The first and second ranks’ volleys

  struck the Hessians before their first line had fired. Their thinning line

  did manage a round and several men in the Company fell. As the Rhode Islanders retreated in good order through an

  orchard, the Hessians brought up their field pieces, the range being too

  great for muskets. Henry saw a ball land close behind Oliver, spewing

  up a column of soft earth and knocking Oliver to the ground. Henry

  and two others rushed over. Oliver lay on his face, blood oozing from

  his ears, his arms hidden underneath him so it was difficult for Henry

  to know if they had been blown off. To his joy, Oliver groggily raised

  himself to his knees and with Henry’s help scrambled to his feet and

  rejoined their ranks.

  The orchard ended at the top of a slight incline, marked by

  another stone wall. There their Company again took up positions and

  rested. Henry felt a wetness on his side. Fearing the worst, he pulled

  back his jacket. He saw to his relief, his shirt above his breeches was

  soaked but not bloody. He reached for his canteen and discovered it

  had been holed by musket balls in two places and the water had leaked

  on to him. Sheepishly, he looked at Oliver and grinned. Oliver smiled

  back and then gestured with his chin. The Hessians were advancing

  once again.

  This time, Lieutenant Tew instructed them to fire two volleys

  and then retreat at quick step to a redoubt, a U-shaped fortification of

  earth and stone on a small hill to their rear. They took their positions

  behind the earthen works of stone and soil alongside other units that

  had been part of the rolling retreat. To his right were the blacks of

  the First Rhode Island Regiment, their white hunting frocks and

  breeches begrimed with dirt and gunpowder. On Henry’s
left was a

  light infantry regiment he did not recognize.

  The Hessians, their ranks three deep and drums beating, gave a

  loud yell that carried above the noise of battle and charged up the hill. “Aim low,” Lieutenant Tew shouted to his company of soldiers to

  the right of the battery. “They wear a strap across their chests which

  ends at the hip. Aim to the right of the hip.”

  Henry found it easy from their height on the slope to depress his

  musket barrel. He sighted on the white strap, followed it down to the

  soldier’s hip, moved his barrel slightly to the right, and at the order,

  fired. Their volley was effective as the front line buckled, with many

  falling, and then the momentum of the second two ranks propelled

  the remnants of the first rank forward. The second volley tore into

  the oncoming Hessians and Henry, having reloaded, fired again. The

  Hessians regrouped, charged yet again and once more they were met

  with a hail of musket fire as well as three pound balls from the field

  pieces, which bounced down the hill and through the forward ranks

  into soldiers coming up behind.

  Henry heard the Lieutenant shouting to retreat by Company.

  Along with the rest of the Regiment they made a hasty descent on the

  open, northern side exposed to musket fire from the redoubt they had

  abandoned, and up the slope to a much higher hill that was held in

  force by their own troops. They passed through the lines to cheers of

  the soldiers manning the fortifications. Captain Ward’s Company was

  positioned along gaps in the line and awaited a new assault. It seemed to

  Henry as if much of the army held this hill in force, having benefitted