Soon the batteries ceased fire. Then, about seven o’clock, the stillness was broken by a shot from one of the French redoubts. Men started out silently from the trench. Their order was explicit: be silent, use the bayonet only. In a minute or two the vanguard disappeared in the shadows; the main body of the detachment followed. Washington and the other generals might almost have held their breath as they waited for the discovery of the attack. Then there rolled swiftly the sound of the fire of the guard. Evidently the French had been challenged and had received all the lead the men on the parapets could hurl at them. The sharp bark of small arms came from the redoubt the Americans were assaulting. Hamilton, in command of Lafayette’s column of Americans, had also failed to achieve a complete surprise. Anxious minutes passed. The fire from the left became more furious; that on the right slackened. Soon the roar of voices was mingled with the crash of musketry. There were shouts, cheers. After that, fire ceased at the redoubt near the river and became intermittent from the direction of the French advance.
Both redoubts had been captured! The French had found the abattis strong and almost undamaged twenty-five yards in front of the redoubt. Time and men had been lost in breaking through. On reaching the ditch the French had thrown themselves into it, only to face a stubborn fraise and a bristling palisade. Some of the troops climbed over these obstacles and broke into the redoubt; others waited until the artificers removed the stakes. Once in the enclosure the French quickly overwhelmed the defenders, who did not make the last-ditch defence expected of them. At the other redoubt, Hamilton’s main party pulled out carelessly planted palisades and swarmed over the parapet; Laurens’ band swiftly closed on the rear of the redoubt.
Little time was allowed to provide for safety because the enemy soon turned on the redoubts all the guns that could be brought to bear from the inner fortifications. As this fire quickened, workers wielded their picks and within three quarters of an hour had raised earth high enough to cover the new garrison. The British shells passed over the heads of the men on the American part of the line but indicated on the French some of the heaviest losses sustained during the evening.
As the night spent its hours the enemy’s cannonade took a smaller toll. By morning the workers had nearly completed the fortification of a curtain they had run all the way to the river.
The New York Brigade marched proudly into the captured work. When Washington visited the redoubt later in the day with some of the French and American officers he made his inspection under a warm fire of rifles as well as of artillery, because the lines now were close enough together for good marksmen to use small arms with some effect. He paid no heed to this and had little difficulty in deciding, with the engineers’ aid, where new batteries should be placed contiguous to the captured redoubts. The troops on fatigue duty labored with zeal; the artillerists soon contrived to get two howitzers into each of the newly occupied works; by 5 P.M. they were put in action.
Before sunrise October 16 word reached Headquarters of an alarm on the lines and a sortie by the British. About four o’clock, 350 picked troops broke into the second parallel, close to the point of junction between French and Americans and near two uncompleted batteries. The British pretended to be an American relief. By this artifice they surprised a small detachment of the Agenois Regiment, most of whom had been permitted to go to sleep. When the Redcoats came to the French communication trench that led to the first parallel, they halted doubtfully. By good fortune, the Viscount de Noailles was near, guessed what the situation was and unhesitatingly attacked with the cry “Vive le Roi!” The British had been told to spike the guns with the tips of bayonets, and the men had not been deployed either for attack or defence. In a few minutes they streamed back towards their own lines. Within a few hours the spikes had been removed and every cannon had been put back in action. Washington dismissed the sortie as “small and ineffectual . . . of little consequences to either party” and devoted his energies to bringing into operation the batteries on which both French and Americans had been working diligently.
With the advanced British redoubts his own, he now had to face frontal fire only. Preparation was simplified. By 4 P.M. or a little later two of the French batteries were ready and three pieces in a large American work could be put in action. When they began a new bombardment the other batteries barked a welcome and aroused the enemy to swift, hot answer. While hundreds of Americans labored to bring up guns and strengthen the works for an even more destructive bombardment the next day, the French artillerists displayed their skill by ricocheting their shot. This did much damage to the British defences and, with good luck, sometimes placed a projectile directly over the parapet and among the men posted there. A fair day ended in a fairer prospect. The chance of naval relief of Cornwallis seemed remote; de Grasse at last was willing to send frigates up the York if the American commander provided small boats to protect against fireships, which Washington readily could do. A furious squall swept down the York after midnight, but by the morning of the seventeenth it had passed.
The camp was full of exciting news. During the night Cornwallis had made some effort to escape to the north side of the river and been frustrated by the squall. As far as the Americans could make out, none of the garrison on either side of the river had escaped. They remained where they were, exposed to the heaviest fire yet poured on them. The French had two more batteries in action; the “grand battery” of the Americans was complete. Some artillerists estimated more than one hundred guns engaged in what sounded as if it were a ceaseless bombardment. This was tearing the enemy’s works apart. The only fire the allies had to face was that of small mortar shells which the enemy dropped with persistence.
If any slackening of fire was audible as Washington transacted business at Headquarters, he attached no importance to it. Pauses came often in a bombardment. The General was about to write de Grasse on the matter of pilots for the passage of the river above Yorktown when a rider pulled up his horse in front of the tents. He had a dispatch for Washington, transmitted in circumstances that had led every observer to ask the same question. Between nine and ten o’clock, a drummer had sounded a parley. A British officer thereupon had come out in front of the defences with a white handkerchief; firing had ceased, an American had run forward, bandaged the eyes of the man with “the flag,” and led the emissary through the American lines. In the messenger’s hand was the letter the British officer had brought:
SIR, I propose a cessation of hostilities for twenty-four hours, and that two officers may be appointed by each side, to meet at Mr. Moore’s house, to settle terms for the surrender of the posts at York and Gloucester.
I have the honour to be, &C
CORNWALLIS
The proposal to surrender had come much earlier than Washington had permitted himself to hope. Now that terms were asked, they must be imposed at once, justly but rigidly. With punctuation by cannon that had renewed the bombardment when the British flag had returned, Trumbull drafted a reply which Laurens revised slightly and Washington approved. About 2 P.M. fire again halted temporarily for the paper to be passed in this form:
Camp before York, October 17, 1781
MY LORD:I have had the Honor of receiving Your Lordship’s Letter of this Date. An Ardent Desire to spare the further Effusion of Blood, will readily incline me to listen to such Terms for the Surrender of your Posts and Garrisons of York and Gloucester, as are admissible.
I wish previously to the Meeting of Commissioners, that your Lordship’s proposals in writing may be sent to the American Lines: for which Purpose, a suspension of Hostilities during two Hours from the Delivery of this Letter will be granted. I have the Honor, etc.
In this, Washington felt he had taken decent precaution, but he had so little doubt of Cornwallis’s enforced submission that he began preparations for the formal surrender. As de Grasse was the allied commander who would require the longest notice, Washington had Tilghman and Laurens draft a cordial letter in which he invited the Admiral’
s “participation in this treaty which will according to present appearances, shortly take place.” Later in the afternoon Washington received a second letter from Cornwallis. The time allowed in a reply to Washington, said the British commander, did not permit him to enter into details of terms. Among the proposals he then sketched hastily one only was completely inadmissible—that the surrendered forces be returned on parole to Britain or to Germany. The other concessions sought by Cornwallis were not of a sort to indicate he would attempt to renew the fighting if he did not win them. Washington consequently agreed to a continued suspension of hostilities, and apparently he overlooked the possibility that the enemy might wreck or burn equipment before such acts were forbidden.
The luxury of silence and of safety now was the Army’s—at least for a night. The exchanges of the day made it possible for a man to stretch out and sleep as long as he would or could in the chill October air—and have no fear of a Britsh bayonet in his chest. At Headquarters some of the staff must have labored over the answer to be made the next day to Cornwallis, but they encountered little difficulty in giving unequivocal form to their terms. By morning Jonathan Trumbull had a draft that Washington found altogether acceptable:
Head Quarters before York, October 18, 1781
MY LORD: To avoid unnecessary Discussions and Delays, I shall at Once, in Answer to your Lordships Letter of Yesterday, declare the general Basis upon which a Definitive Treaty and Capitulation must take place. The Garrisons of York and Gloucester, including the Seamen, as you propose, will be received Prisoners of War. The Condition annexed, of sending the British and German Troops to the parts of Europe to which they respectively belong, is inadmissible. Instead of this, they will be marched to such parts of the Country as can most conveniently provide for their Subsistence; and the Benevolent Treatment of Prisoners, which is invariably observed by the Americans, will be extended to them. The same Honors will be granted to the Surrendering Army as were granted to the Garrison of Charles Town. The Shipping and Boats in the two Harbours with all their Guns, Stores, Tackling, Furniture and Apparel, shall be delivered in their present State to an Officer of the Navy, appointed to take possession of them.
The Artillery, Arms, Accoutrements, Military Chest and Public Stores of every Denomination, shall be delivered unimpaired to the Heads of Departments, to which they respectively belong.
The Officers will be indulged in retaining their Side Arms, and the Officers and Soldiers may preserve their Baggage and Effects, with this Reserve, that Property taken in the Country, will be reclaimed.
With Regard to the Individuals in civil Capacities, whose Interests Your Lordship wishes may be attended to, until they are more particularly described, nothing definitive can be settled.
I have to add, that I expect the Sick and Wounded will be supplied with their own Hospital Stores, and be attended by British Surgeons, particularly charged with the Care of them.
Your Lordship will be pleased to signify your Determination either to accept or reject the Proposals now offered, in the course of Two Hours from the Delivery of this Letter, that Commissioners may be appointed to digest the Articles of Capitulation, or a Renewal of Hostilities may take place.
I have the Honor etc
Off went the messenger with the letter. By the time he reached the line the curiosity of thousands of adversaries was being satisfied through the bounty of the truce. On the beach of York hundreds of busy people might be seen moving to and fro. At a small distance from the shore were ships sunk down to the water’s edge—farther out in the channel the masts, yards and even the top gallant masts of some might be seen without any vestige of the hulls. On the opposite side of the river was the remainder of the shipping drawn off as to a place of security. Even here the Guadeloupe, sunk to the water’s edge, showed how vain the hope of such a place. Under the terms about to be imposed the remaining transports and other vessels must be left as they were for final disposition by the French Admiral. De Grasse, unfortunately, would not be present in person to settle the details and share the honors. Sickness had overtaken him and he designated Barras in his stead. The day brought assurance, also, that an American “fleet” as well as a French, would be in the background of the final scene. The remaining troops of St. Clair were arriving off the mouth of the York.
Cornwallis, in answering Washington, abandoned effort to have his army paroled home and contented himself with seeking three things—terms of special honor for the unassailed garrison of Gloucester Point, permission to dispatch a small vessel to New York with a cargo of private property, and immunity for Loyalists at the two posts. Washington was entirely satisfied that the British could not escape now, and he knew that at a meeting of commissioners he could impose all essential terms that honor, safety of the American cause, and decent consideration for a defeated foe demanded. More than this, Washington did not intend to exact. He named Laurens as one American commissioner and left the choice of the other to Rochambeau, who selected de Noailles, Lafayette’s brother-in-law.
While Laurens and de Noailles were listening to the British commissioners, Washington made ready an American and a French detachment, each of two hundred men, to occupy British defences on the main roads and thereby prevent unauthorized entry into Yorktown or egress from it—a precaution the expectant spirit of the troops dictated. Evening came without any word on the progress of the negotiations, but Washington awaited the return of Laurens and de Noailles without concern. When they arrived they reported that British appeals and objections of one sort and another had so prolonged the meeting that the articles of capitulation were not in final form; but the American commissioners brought back a rough draft, for consideration of which they had extended the truce until nine o’clock on the morning of the nineteenth. That sufficed. The terms were those of honorable surrender, mitigated for the officers by permission to return on parole to Europe or to an American port in British hands. Cornwallis’s temporary use of the sloop Bonetta for a voyage to New York was allowed, with the proviso that she carry dispatches and soldiers but no public property. Officers were to retain their side-arms; all baggage of individuals was to remain their own, unless it included effects taken from the inhabitants. Details of formal surrender were set forth punctiliously as to flag and music and march, and with such a “compensation” for the part of the garrison of Gloucester Point as Cornwallis had said he would expect. The sole flat denial of Cornwallis’s amended proposals concerned the requested article that “natives or inhabitants of different parts of this country, at present in York or Gloucester are not to be punished on account of having joined the British army.” Washington’s refusal of this was brief: “This article cannot be assented to, being altogether of civil resort.”
When the articles were entirely in order, Washington authorized Laurens to notify the British of certain minor changes of terms. Then the General was ready for his final move. “I had [the papers] copied,” he wrote, and sent word to Lord Cornwallis “that I expected to have them signed at 11 o’clock and that the garrison would march out at 2 o’clock. . . .” The alternative was one so plain that Cornwallis could not hesitate in his choice. About eleven o’clock the text of the articles arrived from the British lines. Attached were the signatures of Cornwallis and Thomas Symonds, senior naval officer in the York River. These two names were written under a line that read: “Done at York, in Virginia, this 19th day of October 1781.” Washington had this separate paragraph duly added: “Done in the trenches before Yorktown, in Virginia, October 19, 1781.” Below this he quietly wrote “G. Washington.” His colleague used the title, “Le Comte de Rochambeau.” Barras signed: “Le Comte de Barras En mon nom & celui du Comte de Grasse.” It was finished! Except for the formalities of surrender.
Time came for the great event. Washington had given his orders verbally during the forenoon—and never to subordinates more eager to obey. The people of the neighborhood were to be allowed to witness the ceremonies; the French troops were to be on one side of the
road down which the British marched; the Americans were to be on the other side in two lines, the Continentals in front, the militia behind them.
When Washington rode up between the lines that had formed for a distance of about half a mile the French bandsmen were performing magnificently and the Americans were playing “moderately well”; but what was the quality of their music then to Washington? Those Continentals were symbols as surely as they were soldiers. From his left, Washington heard different music—and, doubtless, the rustle that often sweeps a silent, excited throng. The march of the British was slow and labored. Minutes passed before the head of the column approached. Washington, on his fine charger, probably looked straight ahead. Rochambeau, opposite him, was no less militarily correct in his dress uniform with the shining badges of French orders on his chest.
Louder now was the music, closer to the column. Presently came a perfectly appointed British general officer with his staff, all mounted and escorted. When the leader reached the waiting commanders he turned to his left and started to address Rochambeau, but the Count pointed to Washington. King George’s officer swung around with an apology for his mistake. The American observed him instantly as a man of about forty and most courteous in his bearing—but not Lord Cornwallis. He was Brigadier Charles O’Hara of the Guards, and he came to represent his Lordship who was indisposed and unable to appear. Washington showed neither irritation nor disappointment, but, of course, if the British commander acted through a deputy, would General O’Hara be so good as to consult General Lincoln, who was directly at hand? A brief exchange sufficed: On the right of the road, a short distance beyond the position of Washington and his staff, Lincoln explained, there was an open field around which French hussars had formed a circle: The British would enter this circle, one regiment at a time, lay down their arms and await instructions to march back between the lines of allied troops.
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