Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Evan Portman
It’s often said that politics makes strange bedfellows, but that’s also true of war. On a blistering December night in 1775, Col. Henry Knox found himself sharing a cabin with the unlikeliest of people: the British officer John André.
Henry Knox
Knox was on his way to retrieve captured artillery at Fort Ticonderoga alongside his brother, William. The pair traveled up the Hudson River, facing heavy winds and harsh winter weather along the way. On December 4, a snowstorm hit just as Knox and his brother reached Fort George at the south end of Lake George, about 40 miles from Ticonderoga. Colonel Knox decided to spend the night there and sail up the lake to Fort Ticonderoga the following day.[1]
Knox received a one-room log cabin for the night, which, for lack of proper quarters, he shared with a captured British lieutenant named John André. André had surrendered during the American siege of Fort Saint-Jean in November 1775 and was being transported as a prisoner of war to Lancaster, Pennsylvania. The chance encounter sparked a brief companionship between the two men. Knox and André were the same age and shared a variety of intellectual pursuits, including a deep passion for art and literature. Both had also given up their respective trades to pursue a military career.[2]
However, Knox was careful not to betray the secrecy of his mission. The colonel, who was dressed in civilian clothes, probably did not reveal his military affiliation as a chief lieutenant of George Washington. Nonetheless, the two bedfellows passed the night by the firelight discussing their common interests. André charmed Knox, as he did most men who made his acquaintance, and the British officer’s intelligence and charisma made left a lasting impression on the artilleryman. Alexander Hamilton later recalled that “there was something singularly interesting in the character and fortunes of André” who “united a peculiar elegance of mind and manners, and the advantage of a pleasing person.”[3] The two men cordially parted ways the following day, as Knox made his way to Fort Ticonderoga and André departed for Lancaster.[4]
John André
Five years later Knox and André met again under much different circumstances. By 1780, André had risen to the rank of major and taken charge of the British spy network. It was in this role that the young officer found himself caught up in one of the great dramas of American history: the treachery of Benedict Arnold. André helped facilitate Arnold’s betrayal and eventual defection to the British army, but he was captured by American sentries in the process. Washington appointed a tribunal of 14 Continental Army officers to try André. Among them was Brig. Gen. Henry Knox.
The tribunal unanimously found André guilty of espionage and therefore ordered his death by hanging—the typical form of execution spy in the eighteenth century. Knox did not record his feelings on the matter, and André did not relate whether he recognized the portly artilleryman with whom he had once shared a cabin. Regardless, any companionship between the two men had evaporated as Knox signed André’s death warrant alongside his Continental comrades.[5]
Despite his tragic circumstances, André maintained marked civility even in the face of his execution. Knox looked on as André approached the gallows and declared, “I have said all I have to say before, and have only to request the gentlemen present to bear testimony that I met death as a brave man.”[6] With that, the cart moved out from under André’s feet, and Knox watched as his one-time companion hung.
Despite his role in André’s untimely death, Knox looked back fondly upon his one-time companion. James Thacher, who was stationed at West Point in 1780 and witnessed André’s trial, recalled that Knox “often afterward expressed the most sincere regret, that he was called by duty, to act on the tribunal that pronounced his condemnation.”[7] Though André’s life ended that October day, Knox served in the Continental army with distinction for the rest of the war. However, he never forgot his chance encounter with the charming British officer on that cold, winter night in 1775.
Fort George
[1] Mark Puls, Henry Knox: Visionary General of the American Revolution (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2008), 37.
[2] Puls, Henry Knox, 37; Noah Brooks, Henry Knox: A Soldier of the Revolution, Major-General in the Continental Army, and Washington’s Chief of Artillery (New York: Cosimo, Inc., 2007), 42.
[3] Alexander Hamilton to Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens, 11 October 1780, The Papers of Alexander Hamilton, vol. 2, 1779–1781, ed. Harold C. Syrett, (New York: Columbia University Press, 1961), 460.
[4] Puls, Henry Knox, 37-38; Winthrop Sargent, Life and Career of Major John André (Boston: Ticknor and Fields, 1861), 85.
Continental General Richard Montgomery huddled over his desk outside the walled city of Quebec, clinging to candlelight as he wrote a letter to his wife. Wind howled and snow pelted the Continental forces preparing to attack the city on the St. Lawrence River. “I wish it were well over with all my heart, and I sigh for home like a New Englander,” Montgomery confessed to his wife, Janet. He had come a long way over the last few months—and even farther over the course of his life.
General Richard Montgomery
Like a New Englander, Montgomery wrote. Despite his rank in the Continental Army, he was no New Englander, but an Old Englander. His path to becoming an American hero resembled that of several Revolutionary leaders. Like George Washington, Horatio Gates, and others, Montgomery had served in the British Army during the French and Indian War. His road to an American generalship, however, was far from straightforward. Indeed, he was a latecomer to the American cause.
In honor of the 250th anniversary of the Battle of Quebec, we reshare guest historian Scott Patchan’s post on Daniel Morgan during the Canadian Campaign of 1775. This post originally posted in December 2015.
When the situation deteriorated to outright rebellion against the crown, Morgan raised a regiment of crack riflemen from Frederick County, and marched them to Boston in twenty-one days to take part in the siege of Boston. There, he served under his former commander from the French and Indian War, General George Washington. Morgan learned the hard way that orders must be followed. He once allowed his riflemen to exceed orders in firing upon British positions at Boston. Washington called Morgan on the disobedience, and Daniel thought that he would be cashiered from the army. Washington, however, relented the next day, but Morgan had learned a valuable lesson about following orders.
Daniel Morgan in the American Revolution
In the fall of 1775, Washington sent Morgan as commander of three companies of Continental riflemen on a mission to capture Quebec from the British. Morgan’s command marched with the column of Colonel Benedict Arnold. They traversed the Maine wilderness, rowing up stream to the “Great Carrying Place,” where carried their canoes and bateaux for great distances overland to another series of streams and lakes that took them to Quebec. As the cold weather set in, sickness and hunger overtook the column and Arnold sent those unfit for duty back to the rear. After covering 350 miles, the American arrived in front of Quebec in early November, surprising the British.
Although Morgan wanted to attack immediately and utilize the element of surprise, he was overruled and the small American force besieged Quebec, waiting for another column under General Richard Montgomery to arrive from the Hudson Valley. When a British party sallied forth and captured one of Morgan’s riflemen on November 18, Arnold believed the British would come out and fight in the open. As such, Arnold drew up his army in front of the fortifications to meet them. They declined his offer and instead looked down on the ragamuffin Americans from the ramparts and exchanged taunts and catcalls. The overall situation frustrated the irascible Morgan, and when his men complained that Arnold was not giving the riflemen their fair share of rations, the “Old Wagoner” violently argued with Arnold, and nearly came to blows with the future traitor. Morgan departed Arnold, leaving him with angry warning about poor treatment of the riflemen. From that time forward, Morgan’s command always received their fair share of the army’s rations.
Montgomery’s column arrived on December 5, and the Americans commenced setting up his mortars and artillery outside of Quebec. The Americans finally attacked during a snowstorm in the early morning darkness of December 31, but their force numbered only 950 men. Arnold’s column came under fire as it moved toward the ramparts of Quebec, and a musket ball struck Arnold taking him out of action. Although Morgan was not the senior officer, the others insisted that he take command, having seen actual combat which they had not. Morgan later noted that this “reflected credit on their judgment.” At Morgan’s order, his riflemen rushed to the front, armed with both their Pennsylvania rifles and a spontoon for the assault while some carried ladders to storm the walls. They quickly drove a small force of British away and closed in on the walls.
Map of Battle of Quebec, 1775 (courtesy of British Battles)
Morgan ordered the men up the ladders and first one gingerly began the climb. Morgan sensed his hesitancy, pulled him down and scaled it himself, shouting, “Now boys, Follow me!” The men instantly complied, and Morgan reached the top of the wall where a volley of musketry exploded, knocking him back to the snow-covered ground. The burst burnt his hair and blackened his face; one ball grazed his cheek and another pierced his hat; but Morgan was otherwise unhurt. Stunned he laid motionless on the ground for a moment, and the attack stopped, his men thinking him dead. But he soon stirred and clambered up the ladder to the cheers of his men who followed suit. This time he stopped before reaching the top, and hurtled himself over the rampart into the midst of the enemy. He landed on a cannon and injured his back and found British bayonets levelled at him from all directions. While the British focused on Morgan, his riflemen poured over the wall and came to his rescue, driving off Morgan’s would-be impalers. Morgan kept up a close pursuit of the British who offered weak resistance to the attacking riflemen. Although Morgan had broken into Quebec, the main body of Arnold’s division failed to follow the riflemen over the wall and exploit the opportunity at hand. Morgan captured much of the lower portion of Quebec with only two companies of his riflemen. He later described the breakdown that occurred:
“Here, I was ordered to wait for General Montgomery, and a fatal order it was. It prevented me from taking the garrison, as I had already captured half of the town. The sally port through the (second) barrier was standing open; the guard had left it, and the people were running from the upper town in whole platoons, giving themselves up as prisoners to get out of the way of the confusion which might shortly ensue. I went up to the edge of the upper town with an interpreter to see what was going on, as the firing had ceased. Finding no person in arms at all, I returned and called a council of war of what few officers I had with me; for the greater part of our force had missed their way, and had not got into the town. Here I was overruled by sound judgment and good reasoning. It was said in the first place that if I went on I should break orders; in the next, that I had more prisoners than I had men; and that if I left them they might break out and retake the battery we had just captured and cut off our retreat. It was further urged that Gen. Montgomery was coming down along the shore of the St Lawrence, and would join us in a few minutes; and that we were sure of conquest if we acted with caution and prudence. To these good reasons I gave up my own original opinion, and lost the town.”
Montgomery never arrived; he had been killed in the first blast of musketry against his column, and his command broke. As time went on, the British regained their composure and pushed back against Morgan’s command. Morgan went back and brought up 200 New Englanders who joined the riflemen as they attempted to renew the attack. Now, the previously undefended point, was well manned, and daylight illuminated the paucity of Morgan’s numbers. Nevertheless, Morgan pressed them back further into the town to an interior fortification. A brave British officer led a counterattack, but Morgan personally shot him dead and disrupted the assault. Nevertheless, the time for action had passed. The British had become aware that Morgan’s was the only active American force in the city and closed in around him. In the meanwhile, additional British forces reoccupied the gates Morgan had initially taken and trapped him in the city. Morgan had no choice but to surrender his small command.
One artist’s depiction of the Battle of Quebec, 1775. Both forces are wearing blue overcoats. (courtesy of British Battles)
Morgan and the other officers enjoyed a liberal captivity with generous quarters in a seminary. The British officers visited them often and remained on friendly terms with the Americans. Morgan developed a dislike for some of his fellow officers whom he regarded as dishonest and scheming, and his fighting skills were brought to bear on at least one occasion when several men teamed up against big Dan Morgan. The imprisonment ended when the British returned the American officers on September 24, 1776, in New Jersey. Morgan returned to his wife and two daughters at his home outside of Battletown or Berryville, where he awaited his proper exchange. While there, he named his home “Soldier’s Rest,” as he recuperated from the trials of the taxing expedition to Quebec. The war was still young, and the Continental Army would soon be calling upon his services again. A special command of riflemen was being organized and Morgan would be its commander.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Andrew J. Lucien. Brief bio of Andrew follows the post.
Death of General Richard Montgomery
Bunker Hill, Valley Forge, Yorktown, July 4, George Washington. These are the most common images that come to mind when the American Revolution is mentioned by most people. The collective unconscious of America has become steeped in the imagery of glorious American victories to win our independence from the superpower of the time. However, what many are unaware of is the unusual campaign that took place from 1775 to 1776, in an attempt to gain the support of Canada in our quest for independence. This campaign featured several battles, with the key one being the Battle of Quebec. This marked a significant turning point in the campaign and the war as a whole.
In 1775, the fate of the impending schism between Britain and its North American colonies was all but sealed. The colonial fervor had reached a climax at the Battles of Lexington and Concord in the spring of 1775, setting the mother country and its colony down a path of armed conflict. As tensions rose in 1775, Ethan Allan, along with Benedict Arnold, captured the British fort at Ticonderoga in early May, resulting in much-needed guns for the colonials. With successful action undertaken in the northern reaches of New York state, the Continental Congress approved plans to invade Canada. Intelligence led the patriots to believe that there were fewer than 700 British soldiers stationed in the Canadian territory and that the popular sentiment in the territory was in favor of rebellion, and that they, too, might take up arms against the British Crown.
By late September, Ethan Allan unsuccessfully attempted to capture Montreal. Near the same time, Benedict Arnold began to lead a force of around 1,100 men from Boston on an enterprise aimed at aiding in the capture of Canada (only about 600 would reach their destination). These men would eventually join forces with Richard Montgomery’s force around Quebec in December of 1775, “to finish the Glorious work you begun,” to quote George Washington. By the time Arnold’s men reached Canada, they were “in a very weak condition.” Montgomery’s force was moving north from Lake Champlain. His men captured Fort Chambly and Fort St. Johns. Following these captures, the force under Montgomery advanced on Montreal. The British governor, Guy Carlton, took approximately 150 men with him from Montreal to Quebec, believing it to be a more important and defensible position. Montreal was easily captured on the 13th. Montgomery did not rest long after capturing the fort, leaving a small garrison in Montreal and heading to join forces with Arnold’s men at Point aux Trembles. Montgomery, “…was anxious, after the capture of Chamblee, St. Johns and Montreal, to add Quebec, as a prime trophy to the laurels already won.”
With the combined force of Montgomery and Arnold now outside of Quebec, Montgomery sent Carlton multiple messages to surrender, which were all rejected. Upon hearing the refutation of his final offer, Montgomery was supposed to have said he would “dine in Quebec or Hell at Christmas.” Finally, with all other options seemingly exhausted, it was planned to forcibly take the city by sending Arnold’s corps to assault the lower town via St. Roque. Montgomery was to attack the lower town via Pres-de-Ville, near Cape Diamond. There was to be a fient east of St. John’s Gate under Colonel Livingston and one at Cape Diamond under Major Brown. The ultimate goal was to meet in the lower town, then storm the upper town.
Around midnight as the 31st began, clouds began to fill the sky and snow began to fall. This was a signal to the Americans to begin preparing for an assault, using the snowstorm as cover. By 2 a.m., the American troops began their movements. At about 4 a.m., Captain Malcolm Fraser saw flashes and lights on the Heights of Abraham. Fraser suspected that the lights were a sign of the American troops’ movement and ordered his guards to arm. The British began to play their drums and ring their bells to alert the men of Quebec to prepare for the city’s defense. The Americans launched two rockets to signal the beginning of their assault. With the rockets illuminating the early morning sky, the rebels began to fire their muskets into the British line. With the darkness of the morning still upon the soldiers, the British were unable to see their opponents, except when their muskets would flash and illuminate their heads. They used the flash of the muskets to guide their return volleys. The Americans began to launch artillery into Quebec from St. Roque. When Arnold saw the rockets in the morning sky, he led about 600 men from St. Roque to attack the British works at Saut-au-Matelot. Montgomery led his force of about 300 men to attack the works at Pres-de-Ville. Montgomery believed that this location was ripe for an escalade.
Arnold and the rest of his column advanced along the waterfront through St. Roque. The British sailors stationed there rained fire down on the Americans from atop the ramparts. The Americans “could see nothing but the blaze from the muzzles of their muskets.” As the Americans pressed forward, they lost the cover of the houses. Arnold was hit in the leg by enemy fire near the first barricade, and he was taken from the field by two men. Arnold tried to rally his men as he was taken away. Despite the setback, the Americans under Daniel Morgan pressed forward and used their ladders to scale and capture the first barricade at Saut-au-Matelot, along with 30 British troops. Here, the Americans found their muskets useless due to the snow. Many colonial troops resorted to confiscating British muskets. The Americans continued about 250-300 yards further to attempt to capture the second barrier, where they met opposition from the British. The Americans, on a narrow street, moved against the British, who had their own strong defenses, including a 12-foot-high barrier, cannons, and two lines of soldiers ready to repulse the attacking Americans. The British fired down on the Americans from the tops of the buildings. The colonial troops attempted to climb the barrier but were forced back by the British inside with their bayonets fixed. They then fired from under the cover of the houses, allowing the British to see them only as they moved from house to house. The attackers contemplated retreating; however, they tarried, ultimately a dire mistake. Carleton, aware of the developing assault, men to attack the flank of the Americans. With the Americans now flanked and facing stiff opposition in front, they surrendered to the British force.
Montgomery and his men suffered a far more deadly fate. As his column approached Pres-de-Ville, Captain Barnsfair had his men next to their guns and at the ready when the Americans arrived. The British had erected a barrier here with a battery. The Americans advanced within 50 yards of the British guns and halted, then resumed their advance, likely because they believed the soldiers were not on guard. Barnsfair “declared he would not fire till he was sure of doing execution, and… waited till the enemy came within… about thirty yards’ distance” and then called out, “fire!” “Shrieks and groans followed the discharge.” The fire of canister, grapeshot, and musketfire was deadly. When the fire stopped, the field of battle was clear with no rebels left standing on the field. Montogemery was one of the casualties of the action, found lying on his back with his arm still in the air. Seeing the folly of another assault, the remaining men retreated. An officer of Carlton’s declared the battle “a glorious day for us, and as compleat a little victory as was ever gained.” When the dust settled, the Americans suffered about 50 killed, 34 wounded, and 431 captured or missing, while the British defenders lost only 5 killed and 14 wounded. The fighting had lasted only around 4 hours.
Bibliography:
“An Account of the Assault on Quebec, 1775,” The Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography 14, no. 1 (1890): 47–63.
Blockade of Quebec in 1775–1776 by the American Revolutionists (les Bastonnais). Historical event, Quebec City, 1775–1776.
Caldwell, Henry. The Invasion of Canada in 1775. Quebec: Literary and Historical Society of Quebec, [microform].
Hatch, Robert McConnell. Thrust for Canada: The American Attempt on Quebec in 1775–1776. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1979.
Henry, John Joseph. Account of Arnold’s Campaign Against Quebec, and of the Hardships and Sufferings of That Band of Heroes Who Traversed the Wilderness of Maine from Cambridge to the St. Lawrence, in the Autumn of 1775. Albany: Joel Munsell, 1877.
Bio:
Andrew Lucien is a social studies curriculum director at the Cleveland Metropolitan School District, host of The Civil War Center podcast, and founder of thecivilwarcenter.com. He has written extensively on the Civil War and Revolutionary War.
Join us this Sunday, December 14th at 7pm as we return LIVE for this Rev War Revelry on the Canadian Campaign of 1775. We will discuss Arnold, Montgomery, Morgan and others on America’s attempt to capture Montreal, Quebec and create a “14th state.” From Arnold’s arduous march to Quebec through the wilds of Maine to Montgomery’s capture of Montreal, our historians Alex Cain and Mike Cecere will cover the entire campaign and answer the question “was the capture of Canada possible?”
This fall and winter mark the 250th anniversary of the campaign and the battles of Montreal and Quebec, and both of our speakers have taken part in the commemorative events. Grab a drink and watch live on our Facebook page, also add questions in the chat.
Approximately two months after waging the defense of Breed’s Hill, on the Charlestown peninsula, against the British, Colonel William Prescott put quill to paper to write to John Adams. In this communique, he discussed the action at Breed’s Hill, known as the Battle of Bunker Hill, fought on June 17, 1775, to his fellow Massachusetts native. Take note that he even wrote his account about the orders he received and which hill that missive directed him to. Since the waft of smoke has drifted from the battle on that June day, veterans, officers, and historians have debated why Prescott and company chose Breed’s Hill instead of Bunker Hill. This letter is just another wrinkle in that timeless debate.
Camp at Cambridge August 25.1775
Sir
I have recd. a Line from my Brother which informs me of your desire of a particular Account of the Action at Charlestown, it is not in my Power at present to give so minute an Account as I should choose being ordered to decamp and march to another Station.
On the 16 June in the Evening I recd. Orders to march to Breeds Hill in Charlestown with a party of about one thousand Men consisting of 3 hundred of my own Regiment, Coll. Bridge & Lieut Breckett with a Detachment of theirs, and two hundred Connecticut Forces commanded by Capt. Nolten, We arrived at the Spot the Lines were drawn by the Enginier and we began the Intrenchmant about 12, o Clock and plying the Work with all possible Expodition till Just before sun rising, when the Enemy began a very heavy Canonading and Bombardment, in the Interin [Interim] the Enginier forsook me, having thrown up a small Redout, found it necessary to draw a Line about 20 Rods in length from the Fort Northerly, under a very Warm Fire from the Enemys Artilary, About this Time the above Field Officers being indisposed could render me but Little Service, and the most of the Men under their Command deserted the Party. The Enemy continueing an incessant Fire with their Artilary. about 2, o Clock in the afternoon on the seventeenth the Enemy began to land a northeasterly Point from the Fort, and I orderd the Train with 2 field Pieces to go and oppose them and the Connecticut Forces to support them but the Train marched a different Course & I believe those sent to their support followd, I suppose to Bunkers Hill, another party of the Enemy landed and fired the Town, There was a party of Hampshire in conjunction with some other Forces Lined a Fence at the distance of three score Rods back of the Fort partly to the North, about an Hour after the Enemy landed they began to march to the Attack in three Columns, I commanded my Lieut Coll. Robinson & Majr. Woods Each with a detachment to flank the Enemy, who I have reason to think behaved with prudence and Courage.
I was now left with perhaps 150 Men in the Fort, the Enemy advanced and fired very hotly on the Fort and meating with a Warm Reception there was a very smart firing on both sides. after a considerable Time finding our Amunition was almost spent I commanded a sessation till the Enemy advanced within 30 yards when we gave them such a hot fire, that the [y] were obliged to retire nearly 150 yards before they could Rally and come again to the Attack. Our Amunition being nea [r ]ly exaustid could keep up only a scattering Fire. The Enemy being numerous surrounded our little Fort began to mount our Lines and enter the Fort with their Bayonets, we was obliged to retreat through them while they kept up as hot a fire as it was possible for them to make we having very few Bayonets could make no resistance, we kept the fort about one hour and twenty Minutes after the Attack with small Arms, This is nearly the State of Facts tho’ imperfect & too general which if any ways satisfactory to you will afford pleasure to your most obedient humble Servt.
William Prescott To the honble John Adams Esqr.
Image of original letter from Prescott to Adams, courtesy of Massachusetts Historical Society
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Ben Powers
Introduction
Nathaniel Greene is renowned for leading the Southern Department during the American Revolution, achieving significant strategic results against Lords Cornwallis and Rawdon, even though he lost several battles. Historian Theodore Thayer called him “the strategist of the American Revolution.”[1] Greene carefully planned his army’s movements to maximize maneuverability, chose to fight in situations with roughly equal numbers, strengthened support from auxiliary and irregular forces, and put the British in increasingly worse positions. His main goal was to keep his army active—success meant staying in the field and avoiding severe losses. This led Cornwallis to make decisions that resulted in his defeat at Yorktown, Virginia, in October 1781. Greene’s careful coordination of military actions to achieve strategic results hinted at what would later be called “operational art,” a concept later connected to leaders like Napoleon Bonaparte and Soviet theorists.[2] Greene’s skills showed the main elements of operational art, making him more than a strategist—he was an early example of an operational artist.
Some Definitions
The “operational level of war” is a twentieth-century concept describing military activities between the tactical level (winning battles) and the strategic level (achieving national aims through armed force and other instruments of power). In current doctrine, tactics involve sequencing forces in time and space to accomplish missions like seizing terrain. Strategy is how national leaders and senior commanders use available means to achieve defined ends. The operational level connects these two, as theater commanders sequence campaigns to achieve strategic objectives, a concept relevant for analyzing Greene’s approach.
Modern view of the “Old South Presbyterian Church, Newburyport, MA
As Benedict Arnold assembled his small army of 1,100 men in Newburyport for his bold cooridinated strike on Canada (with General Richard Montgomery attacking via Montreal), there was one last stop before the men boarded the boats in the Merrimack River. From here they would hug the coast on their way to Maine, then overland to Quebec. It was a bold strategy for the inexperienced army and army commander. Though the was just started in April, and peace was still spoken by many political leaders, Washington approved this first American offensive. Strike the British forces in the Canadian colonies, with the hope of encouraging their northern colonial neighbors to join their cause.
Arnold felt it was appropriate that his mission have the blessing of God, so hundreds of men squeezed into the First Presbyterian Church (now called Old South Presbyterian Church). One of the largest churches in the city, it was the spiritual home of the Great Awakening in New England. Here, evangelist preacher George Whitefield, preached from when the church was built in 1756 until his death in 1770. Whitefield was buried in the crypt of the church. His fame was well known to Arnold and others, Whitefield is considered one of the founders Methodism and a great public speaker.
What men could not fit into the church pressed up against the doors and windows. Today’s service, held on Wednesday, September 20, was a dedication service. To bless the men and their task at hand. Reverand Samuel Spring, a popular orator in his own right, and he was now to serve as chaplain of Arnold’s small army on its way to Canada.
The scene was recounted in J. T. Headley’s, 1864 “The Chaplains and Clergy of the Revolution“:
Reverand Samuel Spring
“There sat the fearless Arnold, the bold rifleman, Morgan, and a host of other brave men, who, notwithstanding their dauntless courage, felt that the perils of the untrodden, mysterious wilderness, they were about to penetrate, might be too great for human energy and endurance, and the hour come, that their only hope would rest in the God whose spirit the chaplain [Samuel Spring] invoked as their guide and stay. The citizens, who crowded the gallery, never forgot that sermon. It became the talk of the place, and was the cause of his eventually settling over them as their pastor.”
After the sermon, a surreal experience took place. Soon, someone on Arnold’s staff wanted to go to the crypt and see the tomb of Whitefield. Headley quoted Rev. Spring:
“I preached over the grave of Whitefield. After the service the general officers gathered around me. Some one requested a visit to Whitefield’s tomb. The sexton was hunted up, the key procured, and we descended to his coffin. It had lain in the tomb six years, but was in good preservation. The officers induced the sexton to take off the lid of the coffin. The body had nearly all returned to dust. Some portions of his grave-clothes remained. His collar and wristbands, in the best preservation, were taken and carefully cut in little pieces, and divided among them.”
A modern view of the crypt of Rev. George Whitefield
Headley continued; “The chaplain, with the haughty Arnold, the chivalrous Morgan, and group of officers, gathered in the dark vault around the tomb of Whitefield, formed a scene worthy of a painter. The clank of steel had a strange sound around the sainted sleeper, while the hallowed atmosphere filled all hearts with solemn awe and reverence.”
Now, with their good luck token from the grave of Whitefield, Arnold and his staff made their way to the shore where his men were boarding their boats in the Merrimack River. Arnold and his men saw their mission blessed by God, and wanted to tie their cause with that of the Great Awakening. They believed their cause was right and just. The process of visiting a tomb and taking pieces of a dead man’s clothing may seem a tad bit of “macbre” to us today, to Arnold it was a way to bless his mission. One that he believed would bring him and his men glory.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian and reviewer Al Dickenson
No president has an easy job. But imagine holding the position of president immediately after undoubtedly the best president the United States has ever had.
That was John Adams’ conundrum. Additionally, it is the subject of renowned historian Lindsey Chervinsky’s new book, Making the Presidency: John Adams and the Precedents That Forged the Republic. Initially released last year, in the midst of a politically fraught election season, Chervinsky places the modern world into a context we should all understand better: the history of the 1790s.
After a brief introduction regarding the Revolutionary War, the early republic, and George Washington’s presidency, readers are thrown into John Adams’ presidency. Federalists opposing Democratic-Republicans (commonly referred to as simply “Republicans” in Chervinsky’s text, as they referred to themselves), the Americans opposing the French, the North opposing the South, Federalists opposing Federalists: it seemed there could be no peace in the nation so split apart. Yet the nation stood for another 220 years. Why is that?
Chervinsky argues that the reason we are a nation today relies on how John Adams served his presidency, specifically the power sharing he enacted in his cabinet amongst Republicans (like Vice President Thomas Jefferson), Federalists (like Secretary of State Timothy Pickering), and Archfederalists (like Secretary of War James McHenry), the successful navigation of foreign affairs (see the ongoing French Revolution, specifically the XYZ Affair), and the peaceful transfer of power.
The final focus of Chervinsky’s book, Adams’ loss in the 1800 election, perhaps offers the most original outlook on Adams’ presidency. Being the loser of the election, and being the first incumbent president to lose an election, historians have often treated Jefferson a little kindlier than Adams. Where Chervinsky’s work shines, however, is in showing how these great, powerful men, the leaders of their respective parties, differed in how they saw power, and in how they wielded it.
Little scholarship focuses on Jefferson’s machinations to gain the presidency. Rarely researched are his Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions, which called for nullifying federal law, even though these ideas were eventually adapted into various Confederate causes and mentalities in the following decades. Nor are the essentially political and emotional blackmail Jefferson laid on Federalist members of Congress who refused to vote for him over Aaron Burr. Jefferson threatened the members of Congress with, in essence, secession of Republican states if they did not pick a president soon, given that this was the only election in American history where the House of Representatives made the presidential selection. The dirty tricks of politics manifested themselves in this election, including smear campaigns against Adams and unfounded warnings that the Federalist Party would forego the will of the people and simply appoint a new, Federalist president.
Compare this to John Adams, who, while certainly desirous of a second term, largely laid low during the turmoil occurring on the other side of the Capitol. When presented with suggestions to keep himself as president, he refused. When asked to annul the election, Adams refused. When asked to stand for himself and campaign in the final months of the election season, and during the contingent election in the House between Jefferson and Burr, Adams refused and stayed silent. He did not cling to power, nor did he view his opinion better than that of the American people who voted for a Republican and the House members who would choose the next presidency. Though he was a lame duck president in every sense of the word, he held true to his convictions of propriety in politics, though privately he fumed.
In this way, though history often sheds more light on the winner, makes historians wonder what other ways “losers” of an election may have impacted our politics and history. An interesting study question for any intrigued historian, but one that Chervinsky shows is vital to understanding American history and modern politics alike.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back Jeffrey Collin Wilford Part I, click here. Part II, click here.
Major Andre’s Reckoning
Along the way from Tarrytown, New York, to West Point, Benjamin Tallmadge conversed almost nonstop with the freshly captured British prisoner John André and learned much about the youthful officer. It was perhaps Major Tallmadge’s background as George Washington’s chief intelligence officer as well as recollections illuminated by the light of André’s charisma, that helped begin to paint a picture of an honorable soldier. After countless hours of conversation during their journey north he became convinced that André’s “Head was in fault, & not his heart.” Tallmadge commented later that André was “a most delectable Companion. It often drew tears from my Eyes to find him so pleasant & agreeable in Conversation on different Subjects, when I reflected on his future fate, & that too, as I believed, so near at hand—” In the short time the two spent together Tallmadge seemed to have grown extremely fond of the British Major.
One can sympathize with Tallmadge’s point of view. After all, André was merely another victim of the traitor Arnold. He had intended to meet him on board the Vulture but when Arnold failed to show he was forced to go ashore with Smith. After the Vulture was scared off by artillery and Arnold convinced him to don civilian clothes, plying him with incriminating materials and sending him through enemy territory, the stage was set. In his testimony, he said it was General “Clinton’s directions not to go within an Enemy post or to quit my own dress.“ Even so, by his own admission, it was the ruling of the military Proceedings that “he changed his Dress within our Lines and under a feigned Name and in a Disguished [sic].”
Perhaps Tallmadge’s sympathies toward André were accentuated by his hatred for Arnold. Tallmadge’s characterization of André becomes clearer in a simple personal act from his testimony when he stated that “André kept reviewing his shabby Dress, & finally remarked to me that he was positively ashamed to go to the Head Qrs of the American Army in such a plight. I called my Servant, & directed him to bring my Dragoon Cloak, which I presented to André. This he refused to take for some time, but I insisted on it, & he finally put it on & rode in it to Tappan.”
By the time they made Tappan, André was under heavy guard and imprisoned at Mabie’s Tavern. Just a few hundred feet away, Washington convened 14 of his top military officers who, over two days of testimony, found André guilty and sentenced him to death. On October 1st André personally requested from Washington the honor of a firing squad over a “gibbet.” Knowing the favor could not be granted, Washington opted to ignore the request.
On October 2nd, just before noon, André appeared on the stoop of Mabie’s Tavern. Four officers were present to escort the convicted spy to his final judgment. One of the four officers was Captain Lieutenant John Van Dyk, with just six months separating this moment from his own capture by the British off the coast of New Jersey. “There were about six steps which led into the stoop of the house, on the light of these, one American officer with myself were standing when Major André came out of the front door of the house in regimentals, hooking his arm with the two American officers (his attendants) one on his right and left. He ran down the steps of the stoop as quickly and lively as though no execution was to take place, and immediately fell into the centre of the guard, a place assigned him.”
André exits Mabie’s Tavern on the day of execution. (copyright: New York Public Library)
Escorting André with his four guards was also Major Benjamin Tallmadge. “I walked with him to the place of execution, and parted with him under the gallows, entirely overwhelmed with Grief, that so gallant an officer, & so accomplished a Gentleman should come to such an ignominious End.” Echoing that sentiment in writing nine days after his execution was Alexander Hamilton, saying “Never perhaps did any man suffer death with more justice, or deserve it less.”
Mabie’s Tavern today (Wilford)
When André had turned the corner to see the gallows before him, Van Dyk recorded his statement. “Gentlemen, I am disappointed, I expected my request…would have been granted.” According to Van Dyk, preparations were made and André’s final words when asked if he had any were “I have nothing more to say, gentlemen, but this, you all bear me witness, that I meet my fate as a brave man.” With that came the untimely end of Major John André who was then cut down and not allowed to fall to the ground and “every attention and respect was paid to Major André that it is possible to pay a man in his situation.” He was placed in a simple coffin and buried in a shallow grave close to the site. Over the following 40 years, a peach tree grew above the grave, ostensibly from a peach given to André by a woman as he marched to his execution.
When the Duke of York requested the return of his remains in 1821 it was not without fear of a backlash, specifically from the residents of Tappan. Many felt it was an affront to the memory of George Washington. British consul James Buchanan found that the protestations dissipated quickly after he agreed to buy those who were against the idea a drink at the local inn. The bones were then dug up with the root of the peach growing through the skull’s eye socket. They were placed in a mahogany ossuary and shipped by way of a British mail ship called a packet to New York City where they awaited their return to London.
Captain, now Colonel, John Van Dyk, 67 years old and working for the New York Customs House near the docks of the North (Hudson) River heard about the impending exhumation and, using his connections with influential New Yorker John Pintard, requested a dialog with Buchanan. Through the British consul, he obtained a penned introduction to the captain of the packet where André’s bones lay. Van Dyk made his way to the North River and found the captain just leaving to go back aboard the packet. Upon handing him the introduction from Buchanan, the captain requested that he return at 10 o’clock the following morning and a barge would be waiting to take him to the ship.
Coincidentally, that same day Dr. Valentine Mott, considered by many to be the greatest surgeon of his time, was treating one of Van Dyk’s children and heard of Van Dyk’s plan. Naturally, he was invited along for the next morning’s visit. That day, the two reached the docks just before 10 o’clock and met the barge which took them to the ship. “We went together on board the Packet. The bones were in a superb urn, and we were permitted to handle them. I mentioned the circumstances, as I have related them above, to the Captain [about André’s execution] — bid him goodbye, and we came on shore.” Van Dyk’s motivations for wanting to visit the remains of André are lost to history and probably best understood by those who experienced the emotions of that fateful day in American history.
Amidst a boat of mail destined for England, John André left New York for the last time, traveling back to London where his remains were repatriated. His ossuary was emptied of its contents and his remains were buried in Westminster Abbey with the inscription “universally beloved and esteemed by the Army in which he served, and lamented even by his foes, now lay alongside medieval kings, Renaissance statesmen, and Georgian poets.” Arnold and his wife Peggy lived the rest of their lives post-Revolution in London, reviled by most, and are buried just 3 miles away at St. Mary’s Church in Battersea, in a vault that sits behind a wall in a basement kindergarten classroom.
[Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vol. 28, 28 August–27 October 1780, edited by William M. Ferraro and Jeffrey L. Zvengrowski, 291–296. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2020.]
[Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vol. 28, 28 August–27 October 1780, edited by William M. Ferraro and Jeffrey L. Zvengrowski, 277–283. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2020.]
[Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vol. 22, 1 August–21 October 1779, edited by Benjamin L. Huggins, 745–746. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2013.]
[Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vol. 28, 28 August–27 October 1780, edited by William M. Ferraro and Jeffrey L. Zvengrowski, 303–311. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2020.]
Van Dyk, John. “Major André, Letter of Col. Van Dyk to John Pintard, August 27, 1821.” Historical Magazine 7, no. 8 (August 1863): 250-252.
Van Dyk, John. “Major André.” Martinsburg Gazette, August 20, 1835.
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