Breaking on Friday, the 237th anniversary of the surrender of British Lord Charles Cornwallis’ surrender at Yorktown, there was another victory.
The American Battlefield Trust announced the successful acquisition of 49 acres of “hallowed ground associated with the 1781 battle.”
The full press release is at the link below!
On the morning of March 15, 1783, George Washington strode into the “New Building” or “Temple” as the structure was referred as, to address the assembled officers of the Continental Army. He asked General Horatio Gates if he could have the floor to say a few words and when he unfolded his pieces of paper on the podium, the words lost their importance.
Why? Continue reading “George Washington’s Greatest Speech?”
Part Two
Captain John Ashby and his fellow Virginians would face their greatest test of the war on the afternoon of September 11th, 1777 at the Battle of Brandywine. Following a wide flank march the bulk of the Crown forces emerged on Washington’s right flank, ready to trap and smash the Continental Army. Washington reorganized his line, drawing men north in a desperate attempt to meet the new threat. The Third Virginia was ordered into position far in advance of the American lines – their objective was to hold a wooded hill near the Birmingham Friends Meeting House in order to buy time for the rest of the American troops to take up position. Ashby and his fellow officers arranged their men among the buildings and woodlot of the Samuel Jones farm and awaited the attack that was certain to come.
(part five of five)
For those men separated from the retreating main body in the pell-mell retreat, Crawford’s expedition had become a nightmare, beginning with the panic on the night of June 5. James Paul remembered being shaken awake with word that the men were leaving and attempting to retrieve his horse in the dark before finding it had already slipped its bridle and wandered away.
“I groped about in the dark and discovered two other horses tied to the same sapling and my horse standing at their tails. This revived my drooping spirits. On finding my horse standing quiet, I bridled him and mounted, and about the same time a number of other horses were mounted by their owners, and all put out from the camp ground together, amounting in all to nine in number, and we made as much haste to get away as we could, considering the darkness of the road, and no roads but open woods to ride through, and no one to guide us.” Paul and his fellows realized Colonel Williamson, now leading the main body, was retreating on a longer route home, “leaving us nine and many other stragglers behind to take care of themselves as best they could, and to steer their own course homeward, and, as it turned out afterward, but few of these stragglers ever got home.”[1]
Paul and his group eventually became mired in a swamp and had to abandon their horses, making their way on foot, pursed by Native American warriors who forced them to scatter. After sleeping in hollow logs and under rocks, going without food other than a blackbird and occasional handful of berries, Paul eventually made his way back across the Ohio alone near Wheeling, arriving at a small fort where settlers had taken refuge against renewed Indian raids.[2]
Continue reading “The Crawford Campaign, 1782: Captivity, Torture, and Execution”
(part four of five)
As the night of June 5 gave way to a dark retreat on June 6, the militia struggled eastward, attempting to reimpose some order on their main body. According to Rose, Crawford set out after one wayward company that had decided on a more circuitous route of retreat that separated it from the main body. While he was gone, the Indians began firing into the militia camp in the dark. At “that instant, every Body was pushing as if it had been a signal agreed for that purpose.”[i]
Rose fell in with a group of about fifty men, who pushed south back toward the abandoned Wyandot town on the Sandusky they had passed through just a few days earlier, seeking to avoid the Shawnee, and then rejoined Williamson with the main body of men as it returned the way the expedition had come.[ii] In the rush, they lost track of Colonel Crawford. They moved directly to the route east without much order, placing speed over the coherence of a fighting unit. Williamson did manage to separate his best horsemen into a smaller group to contest any light horsemen they encountered on the Sandusky plain, but expected to find relative safety when they reached more heavily timbered areas. On June 6, Rose had a close call. Riding ahead while trying to keep the group from breaking up into smaller parties, mounted Indians charged him and his companions from a wooded area on the left. Rose managed to make it back to the main body, which promptly counter-charged with the light horse Williamson had created.[iii] In the process, he lost contact with his two companions, Colonel William Harrison (Colonel Crawford’s son-in-law) and Mr. William Crawford, (Colonel Crawford’s nephew).[iv]
Later that day, about 24 miles into their march, the militia paused to rest along Olentangy creek. Their mounted pursuers promptly fired into the main body from behind and the militiamen detected a light screen moving into place ahead of them, the beginning of an encirclement.[v] The militia started skirmishing while Rose rode to the rear, nearly through the Native Americans behind them, retrieved the rear body, which contained a substantial portion of the light horse, and sent them to clear the woods of enemy skirmishers in front. The maneuver succeeded and the militia were able to enter the woods, losing three dead and eight wounded in the hour-long fight. Despite anticipating a degree of relative safety there, pursuers continued to harass the flanks and the rear. Simultaneously, the poorly organized militia lost still more cohesion as a fighting unit as the woods broke up formations and isolated men in small groups. To make matters worse, the skies opened up and a heavy downpour soaked everyone to the bone.[vi]
Continue reading “The Crawford Campaign, 1782: Rout, Retreat, and Recovery”
Part of an ongoing series about the Continental Army in Morristown, New Jersey. To read previous posts, click here.
During the winter encampment, in 1777, at Morristown, George Washington ordered the inoculation for smallpox of the Continental Army. Although knowing the probability that some of his men would succumb to the disease when infected with even a small dosage of the puss, the commander-in-chief knew that the necessity of the process. By the end of the American Revolutionary War, more American soldiers would die of smallpox than British shot and shell.
With a population of 700 people and less than 70 dwellings, any public space of size was utilized to treat and quarantine the soldiers undergoing the smallpox inoculation. One of the religious establishments that was used was the Presbyterian Church across the street from Morristown Green, the center of town.
The Presbyterian Church already had a long history in Morristown, being the first congregation founded in the town, dating back to 1733 (the one you see today is actually the third to grace the same site).
Behind the church is a graveyard referred to as “The Burying Ground” which holds the remains of over 1,700 individuals. Included in that number are the remains of numerous soldiers that succumbed to the smallpox inoculation during the winter encampment of 1777. From the burials that are known, 138 remains are those of soldiers from the American Revolution.
During the annual commemoration of Independence Day, the town of Morristown will offer guided programs of “The Burying Ground.” At other times throughout the year, the church itself will offer tours. You can find information about the church programs of the cemetery here.
Whether you visit on a guided tour or independently stroll the ground, the though to keep in mind is; the men who died whether on the field of battle, succumbed to smallpox, or lived a long life as a veteran, the all helped make Morristown the placed where “America Survived.”
Last year I came across Dr. John Knight’s account of the torture and execution of Colonel William Crawford by members of the Delaware Indian tribe in 1782. It was a vicious execution, but not unheard of in the wars on the American frontier, where violence and brutality from both sides were common.
Born in 1722, Crawford was a long-time business partner of George Washington, particularly in the acquisition of land in the Ohio River valley. A veteran of frontier conflicts, during the Revolution he had served as the Lieutenant Colonel of the 5th Virginia Regiment, commanded the 7th Virginia in the east, and then returned to the Pittsburgh area to raise the 13th Virginia. Sidelined during the war’s last years, he commanded local Pennsylvania militia and was largely retired by 1782. For years, settlers in the Ohio Valley had agitated for punitive raid against the Ohio Tribes along the Sandusky River in today’s northwestern Ohio. Their goal was to retaliate for Indian raids across the Ohio and spoil future raids. By the spring of 1782, they could not be restrained. After the militia massacred defenseless Christian Indians at Gnadenhutten in March, Brigadier General William Irvine, the Continental Commander at Pittsburgh, arranged for Colonel Crawford to lead the inevitable militia expedition, likely in hopes that Crawford could prevent a repeat. (Crawford had taken no part in the Gnadenhutten Massacre).
Part of an ongoing series of about the Continental Army in Morristown, New Jersey. For the first post, click here.
Across the street from the Ford Mansion, the elegant home of the Jacob Ford, Jr. and his family, and the headquarters for George Washington during the winter encampment of 1779-1780, sits a small boulder with a iron plaque plastered on the side.
Erected in 1932 by the Tempe Wicke Society Children of the American Revolution, the monument commemorates the Life Guards that served as Washington’s headquarters command during the American Revolution. Although the unit went by different names and reorganized at least twice, including once during the winter encampment at Morristown, the company, numbering approximately 150 men, would be around for the duration of the war. Continue reading “Uncovering the Continental Army in Morristown”
Part of an ongoing series about the Continental Army in Morristown, New Jersey. To read previous posts, click here.
All that remains is a historical marker, on the side of North Park Place across the street from Morristown Green. For a few months, between January 1777 and May 1777, in this location, the headquarters of the Continental Army was located. Within that headquarters, obviously, was George Washington.
Although no specific date of construction exists, it is believed that Arnold’s Tavern was built by Samuel Arnold between 1735 and 1750. By the time of the American Revolution owned by the son, Colonel Jacob Arnold. The structure was three stories high, with a wide hallway that bisected the building, a front and back parlor, barroom, dining room, and kitchen. Continue reading “Uncovering the Continental Army in Morristown”
William Griffith’s examination of the Carlyle House Congress last month (The Carlyle House Congress and Britain’s Military Objectives for 1755) reminded me that I had been remiss in not visiting the site. So, the family and I set off for Alexandria, VA and a visit to John Carlyle’s home.
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 