In Fincastle, nestled in the mountains of Virginia’s Botetourt County and once considered the “jumping off” spot for people traveling to the frontier, they tell a story about William Clark. Prior to his journey west with Capt. Meriwether Lewis and the Corps of Discovery, William Clark was in the village of Fincastle one day when, it is said, he spied two young girls on horseback. They were both pretty young things, the story goes, but Clark’s fancy was captured by only one of them.

Her name was Julia Hancock; Clark called her “Judith”. She was the teenage daughter of former United States Congressman George Hancock of Santillane; one of Botetourt County’s most distinguished families.

The story goes that Clark, who was twice her age, pledged his heart to the lass; it was his intention to marry her. While on his journey to the “western ocean’, Clark named a river in Montana in her honor. It was dubbed the Judith.

Upon his return to Fincastle, Clark was as good as his word and conducted the beautiful Miss Hancock to the alter.

Among the historical documents that can still be found in the Botetourt County Circuit Court is the marriage bond for the two, signed by William Clark. The couple married on January 5, 1808.

Sadly, after 12 years of marriage and 5 children, Julia Hancock Clark died in 1820. Not long after however, in St. Louis, Clark happened to meet up with another Fincastle girl. She was a widow named Harriet Kennerly Radford. Needing a mother for his children, Clark would marry Harriet Radford on November 28, 1821. But still, there was a connection; Clark had known his new bride back in Virginia. Not only was Harriet Kennerly Radford a first cousin of Julia Hancock, she was also the other young girl Clark had first seen on horseback in Fincastle all those years before!! They tell the story in Fincastle.

The City of Boston is known for many things and history is one of them. There are many sites within the city that interpret the story of the beginning of the American Revolution. Many sites are along the famous and popular “Freedom Trail.” The Freedom Trail winds through the city and connects historic sites, churches, monuments, museums and cemeteries that focus on the story of 18^th century Boston. The trail can be identified by a double brick pattern located in the sidewalk. The 2 ½ mile trail begins at Boston Common and ends at the Bunker Hill Monument. Several sites in this book are included in the Freedom Trail, but there are others that are just as important that are not on the path of the trail.  All the locations for this section are in walking distance, though we highly encourage you to use public transportation as driving in Boston can be challenging. Most attractions/sites in Boston are conveniently served by the “T” subway system.

For your first stop, visit the Old South Meeting House located at 310 Washington St, Boston (GPS: N 42.357078, W 71.058578). Built in 1729, the Old South Meeting House was one of the largest buildings in Boston at the time. It was here where the public meeting was held on the night of the Boston Tea Party. Today the building serves as a historic site and museum. The small admission fee is worth the price to see this historic site which includes exhibits on the history of the church, Boston and the Boston Tea Party.

From the Old South Meeting House, you can take the route of the “Mohawks” to the next stop, the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum. Take Milk Street (next to the Old South Meeting House) for three blocks and take a right onto Congress Street. After six blocks the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum will be on your left as you cross the bridge over Fort Point Channel (GPS: N 42.352071, W 71.051369). The Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum includes interactive exhibits and experiences where visitors can help throw tea over board one of the recreated ships (the Eleanor and the Beaver). There is also a tea room, theater and film and gift shop.  Hours vary depending on the season.

Due to the expansion of the Boston shore lines over time, the actual location of Griffin’s Wharf is not near the water today. Some argue it was at the foot of Pearl Street near the intersection of Pearl Street and Atlantic Avenue. There is a plaque commemorating the Boston Tea Party located on Seaport Boulevard. To see the plaque, take Atlantic Avenue and make a right onto Seaport Boulevard, the plaque is located on the building to the right near the bridge (GPS: N 42.354147, W 71.050977).

October of 1776 was a scary time during the Revolutionary War.  George Washington’s army had suffered major defeats in August and lost the city of New York to the British Army.  By October many of Washington’s men had fallen back towards White Plains, New York where they prepared to defend themselves.  Morale was plummeting among the Continental Army and it seemed the Americans would lose the entire war before the end of the year.

It was around this time that some believe the story of the Headless Horseman had its origins.  The Headless Horseman is a legendary ghost who first made his appearance in Washington Irving’s classic “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” which was originally published in 1820.  The story is set in the early years of the republic in a small town on the Hudson River.

While this is a fictional story, it has some basis in fact.  The village of Sleepy Hollow is a real place in Westchester County in New York, less than ten miles from White Plains, New York.  The ghost known as the Headless Horseman that haunted this village is referred to by Irving in the story as “the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannonball, in some nameless battle during the Revolutionary War.”

A Hessian soldier made a natural choice for this fearsome ghost.  Hessians were greatly feared by Americans during the Revolutionary War.  These German soldiers were sent by the thousands to America to reinforce the British.  Hessians got their name as many of these soldiers were from Hesse-Kassel in Germany.  These foreign speaking mercenaries were viewed as bloodthirsty killers and easily vilified.  They were renowned as fearsome fighters and there were stories that they showed no quarter to retreating American troops at the Battle of Long Island, including nailing American riflemen to trees with their bayonets.  However, some of these Hessian soldiers were probably misunderstood.  Many of them had been pressed into service and were forced to fight for their princes.  Many Hessians even preferred life in America and thousands decided to desert and settle in America at the end of the war rather than return to Germany.

The Hessian that provided the inspiration for the Headless Horseman may have been killed during the Battle of White Plains on October 28, 1776.  Washington Irving even mentions this particular battle in his tale when he recounts a small anecdote of an “old gentleman . . .  who, in the battle of Whiteplains, being an excellent master of defence, parried a musket ball with a small sword.”  During this battle Hessian troops played a large role.

Some of these Hessian troops, commanded by Colonel Johann Rall, led a flanking assault on the American troops and pushed the entire American force back.  More than 400 British, Hessian, and American soldiers were dead or wounded at the end of the day and although the Americans fought bravely, Hessian and British troops commanded the battlefield.

Perhaps the ghost of the Headless Horseman was the spirit of one of the many Hessian soldiers killed during the Battle of White Plains.  Another possibility is one of the Hessians killed in the skirmishing that occurred in the days that followed.  Major General William Heath of the American army remembered a particular skirmish that occurred a few days later on November 1, 1776 when “a shot from the American cannon at this place took off the head of a Hessian artilleryman. They also left one of the artillery horses dead on the field.”

Regardless of the true origins of this ghost, the Hessians’ victory at White Plains was short lived.  Colonel Rall and his brigade of Hessians would be surprised and captured by George Washington’s men at the Battle of Trenton on December 26, 1776, which would prove to be a major turning point in the Revolutionary War.

While the Battle of White Plains has been all but forgotten, the story of the Headless Horseman has become a touchstone which still connects us with this battle and the Revolutionary War in general.  And just like we like to find where these battles took place and walk the hallowed ground, so too does the Headless Horseman.  Irving writes that while the body of the Hessian lies “buried in the churchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly quest of his head.”  I urge you to follow in his footsteps and check out Battle Hill Park next time you are in White Plains, New York and the historic environs of Sleepy Hollow nearby.

When analyzing the key actions of a military engagement in order to pinpoint a decisive moment or turning point, one does not usually come across a retreat and/or rout that actually attributed to the success of an army. However, during the late morning of September 8, 1755, roughly three miles south of Lake George in New York’s Adirondack Mountains, a contingent of men from Connecticut and Massachusetts, and their Mohawk allies conducted quite possibly the first ever organized fighting retreat in American military history – one that would turn the tide of battle and save their army from potential destruction. It is easy for a maneuver like this to be overlooked, but without the crucial time bought for William Johnson’s provincial army at its encampment along the southern shore of the lake by Lt. Colonel Nathan Whiting’s courageous New Englanders, Baron de Dieskau’s French army may well have emerged victorious during the Battle of Lake George and subsequently pushed their way to Albany’s doorstep.

Around eight o’clock in the morning, September 8, 1755, a column of men 1,200 strong was marched out of William Johnson’s camp at the southern end of Lake George. The column’s destination was Fort Lyman, roughly fourteen miles to the south located beside the Hudson River (present-day Fort Edward, NY). There, intelligence gathered by Johnson’s army had placed the 1,500 strong French force led by Jean-Armand, Baron de Dieskau, which was believed to be preparing an assault against the 500 man garrison of New Hampshire and New York provincials.

The contingent of reinforcements dispatched from the English camp was under the overall command of Colonel Ephraim Williams, 3^rd Massachusetts Provincial Regiment, and was comprised of his own regiment, 200 Mohawk Indians, and another 500 men of the 2^nd Connecticut Provincial Regiment led by Lt. Colonel Nathan Whiting. The column marched south down the military road with the Mohawk at its head, followed by the Massachusetts men, and Whiting’s regiment taking up the rear.

Nathan Whiting, born in 1724 and a resident of Windham, was 31-years-old in 1755 and one of William Johnson’s youngest field officers. He was a graduate of Yale and a veteran of the Louisbourg expedition during King George’s War – service which earned him a lieutenant’s commission in His Majesty’s Forces. When hostilities between England and France erupted in 1754 he was commissioned as the 2^nd Connecticut Provincial Regiment’s lieutenant colonel and was sent to Albany to serve as part of the Crown Point Expedition, an offensive designed to oust the French from the Lake Champlain-Lake George-Hudson River corridor. The regiment’s colonel, Elizur Goodrich, was ill and bedridden during the Battle of Lake George, so Whiting served as the unit’s field commander during his absence. Whiting was a loyal officer and earnestly dedicated to the cause in which he was fighting for. Before reaching the southern shore of the lake on August 28, he penned a heartfelt letter to his wife that epitomized his character: “… [P]ray make your Self as easy as possible[.] I know your D[aily] prayers are for my preservation[.] Let it be an article of them that it not be obtained by any unworthy means, but in the prosecution of the Duty I owe at this time to my Self, my Country & my God.”[1]

About two hours or so and three miles into the march to Fort Lyman, the forward ranks of Ephraim Williams’s column of reinforcements were ambushed by Dieskau’s native allies, Canadian militia, and regular grenadiers of the Regiments of Languedoc and La Reine. The French outside of Fort Lyman had earlier uncovered dispatches from a dead courier that was sent to inform the English outpost that reinforcements were going to be sent from the lake encampment to assist it in case of an attack. Using this intelligence, Dieskau marched his army up the military road towards Lake George and prepared an ambush to surprise the oncoming party of reinforcements. Although the ambuscade was initiated prematurely before the entire column could march into Dieskau’s hook-like formation, it still succeeded in throwing the English force into confusion and sent it scurrying back up the road to Lake George. Both Ephraim Williams and Chief Hendrick (commanding the Mohawk contingent) were killed during the confrontation and all order was lost, leaving Whiting, who was now the highest ranking officer on the field, to try to prevent a disaster.

The 2^nd Connecticut was spared from being involved in the ambush because of their distance to the rear of the column. However, they were met with the sights and sounds of the maelstrom unfolding ahead of them as panic-stricken men streamed through their ranks along the military road. Knowing that an all-out rout would spell disaster for Johnson and the rest of the army at the lake – which was surely Dieskau’s next target – Whiting ordered his Connecticut men to take to the woods surrounding the road and use every bit of cover possible to hold back the onrushing enemy. Rallying a handful of Bay Staters and Mohawks, they too rejoined the fighting. If Whiting could not stand and fight, he was going to run and fight in order to buy time for the rest of the army to prepare to meet the inevitable assault heading its way. With tremendous tenacity, the brave band of New Englanders and their native allies returned fire at every opportunity. They loaded, discharged their firelocks, and then ran to the next available form of concealment, repeating the process again and again. Their resistance forced Dieskau to slow his pursuit and even gave his Indians the chance to break ranks and leave the fight or return to the morning’s engagement site to plunder.

Whiting’s fighting retreat was achieving its intended goals. Back at the Lake George encampment the fighting could clearly be heard inching closer and closer. Having the necessary time needed to prepare a defensive position, Johnson ordered his men to throw up a makeshift breastwork of logs and whatever else could be found. Artillery was planted aiming down the military road and a body of men from Lt. Colonel Edward Cole’s 1^st Rhode Island Provincial Regiment was ordered forward to aid Whiting. The added strength brought Dieskau’s army to a near halt. For well over an hour the men of Whiting’s fighting retreat fought desperately against their relentless foe, refusing stubbornly to give up every inch of ground over the three miles from the ambush site to the lakeshore encampment. In the words of Lt. Colonel Seth Pomeroy of the 3^rd Massachusetts, who was fortunate enough to have been ordered to remain behind in camp, Whiting’s men made a “very handsom retreet.” [2]

It was nearing noon when, in Pomeroy’s words, the rearguard, “Came within about ¾ of a mile of our Camp there was ye Last Fire our men gave our enemies which kill’d grate numbers of them [as they were] Sean to Drop as Pigons….”[3] Emerging from the wood line into the clearing made by Johnson’s camp, Whiting and his men caught the first glance of what their courageous actions had accomplished that morning. There in front of them the entire army waited to meet the oncoming enemy behind a long line of newly built breastworks.

For four hours Dieskau attempted to break the English lines, not once even coming close to reaching their defenses.  By nightfall the French army was in full retreat (without its commander, who was left behind on the field wounded) back to Carillon to the north, and William Johnson and his army could finally declare the Battle of Lake George a victory for His Majesty King George II. The southern shore of the lake was still in British hands, and the road south to Albany was again secure. Plans were made to build a large permanent fortification at the site of Johnson’s encampment, and by the end of the month construction of what would come to be christened Fort William Henry began.

Despite the tremendous leadership and collective effort of many officers during the battle, Johnson took all the credit for himself – even though he was wounded early in the fighting and had missed most of it. His second-in-command, Major General Phineas Lyman of Connecticut, who had commanded the army during the fighting after Johnson’s wounding, was not mentioned in the general’s report to the royal governors the following day. Also omitted from this were Nathan Whiting and his men who desperately fought to buy time for the army to prepare the defenses that proved so crucial to deciding the outcome of the battle. It is impossible that Johnson simply did not know what had transpired in the forests south of Lake George that morning – he would have clearly heard the sound of musket fire slowly progressing towards his camp. He mentioned in his report hearing the, “… heavy firing, and all the Marks of a Warm Engagement….”[4] His failure to include the service of Lyman and Whiting in his recollections was nothing more than a want of glory and a personal vendetta that he seemed to hold against Connecticut’s officers. For his victory at the Battle of Lake George, Johnson was later knighted – an honor that would have been better bestowed upon others.

An already underappreciated event in America’s colonial history, the English victory at the Battle of Lake George halted Dieskau’s offensive into New York’s interior and quite possibly saved Albany and everything north of it from falling into the hands of France and being cut off from the rest of the colonies. In my opinion, had the battle been lost by the English its consequences would have been far greater than Braddock’s Defeat along the Monongahela. Not only was the Ohio River Valley already lost that summer, but if the British were also ousted from Lake George then the major water “highway” north into Canada would have been lost as well. This would have given France a direct route south into New York’s interior and even an avenue of approach towards New York City via the Hudson River. Many more would have been in danger following that summer than just the frontier settlers of Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Virginia. So if these observations are at least in some part accurate, then the significance of the English victory along the southern shore of Lake George cannot be understated. If this truly was one of the more strategically significant battles of the French and Indian War, then Nathan Whiting’s fighting retreat made the victory possible. It was the decisive action of the Battle of Lake George and quite possibly the first ever successfully organized fighting retreat in American Military History.

[1] Nathan Whiting, “The Letters of Colonel Nathan Whiting,” in The Papers of the New Haven Colony Historical Society, vol. 6 (New Haven, CT: New Haven Colony Historical Society, 1900), 137.

[2] Seth Pomeroy, The Journals and Papers of Seth Pomeroy: Sometime General in the Colonial Service (New York: Society of Colonial Wars in the State of New York, 1926), 114.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Milton W. Hamilton, “Battle Report: General William Johnson’s Letter to the Governors, Lake George, September 9-10, 1755,” in Proceedings of the American Antiquarian Society, vol. 74 (Worcester, MA: Published by the Society, 1965), 22.