Along Route 50, west of Aldie, Virginia is a small obelisk in the middle of a cow pasture. Thousands of car drive by the marker, not knowing what it is or who it is for. Most people that come to this area of Virginia for history are interested in the American Civil War. In this region of Virginia the legendary John S. Mosby operated behind Union lines for two years. Also here were the hard fought cavalry battles that preluded the Battle of Gettysburg. But this monument doesn’t refer to anything in the Civil War. This monument commemorates a local American Revolutionary War hero. A man that has been mostly forgotten until recently.
John Champe was born in ca. 1755 from a family that was well established on Virginia’s Northern Neck. His family owned substantial land in King George, Stafford and Prince William Counties. At some point, his family moved to the Aldie region of Loudoun County, where John was born. The men of the Champe family were involved in the local militia and civil office as road builders. Though the family had substantial land holdings and slaves, John was one of many siblings and sought out his future with the military at the outbreak of the American Revolution.
John Champe enlisted as a private in the 1st Regiment, Virginia Light Dragoons in December 1776. Champe’s abilities were quickly noticed and saw himself promoted to corporal by 1778 and then a sergeant by 1779. Champe’s abilities were quickly noticed by his commander, Major “Lighthorse” Harry Lee. Lee described Champe as “rather above the common size – full of bone and muscle; with a saturnine countenance, grave, thoughtful and taciturn – of tried courage and inflexible perseverance.” [i] Though Champe might have quickly risen in the non-commissioned ranks, he desired more. His opportunity for promotion and a date with history came on September 27, 1780 at West Point, NY.
The treachery that took place on September 24th at West Point by once beloved American General Benedict Arnold is well documented. Arnold planned on turning over the fortress at West Point to the British (thus giving up the vital Hudson River). Arnold, receiving command of the post at West Point in August 1780, quickly reduced the viability of the fortifications by neglecting repairs and sending troops away from the post. Arnold’s treachery was not exposed until British officer, Major John Andre was captured, carrying on him copies of letters and Arnold’s plans. Luckily for Arnold, he learned on the morning of September 24th of Andre’s capture and he quickly fled to the HMS Vulture then on to safety in New York City.
Washington also learned of Arnold’s treason on September 24th during his planned visit to West Point. Washington reportedly took the news calmly and began to investigate the depth of treason in his officer corps. Maj. Lee assisted Washington in his investigation, and both found no evidence of other American officers involved in the plot. Washington then turned to the capture of Arnold, and that is where our “hero” comes into the story.
In October of 1780, Washington looked to Lee to find someone in his talented cavalry command that could “defect” to the British and carry out an elaborate plan to capture Arnold. Calling Lee to his headquarters, Washington and Lee discussed the proposition of capturing Arnold and how to carry out such a plan. Lee was tasked with finding someone in his command that could successfully carry out the plan. Lee soon wrote to Washington that he had two men in mind, but his top choice was a sergeant in his cavalry unit
“The chief of the two persons is a sergeant in my Cavalry; to him I have promised promotion…if your Excellency approves of what is done, the sergeant will desert from us tomorrow; the sergeant is a very promising youth of uncommon taciturnity and inflexible perseverance…I have incited his thirst for fame by impressing on his mind the virtue and glory of the act.” [ii]
Washington quickly responded and agreed to Champe’s terms of promotion and soon the mission was hatched. Champe would desert to the British and only Lee and Washington would know about it. He would be labeled a traitor and his family name tarnished. If he was captured by the Americans, he would be executed and if he was exposed as an American spy to the British, he would also be executed. Champe accepted the risk and on the night of October 21st, Champe mounted his horse and made way for the Hudson River where he hoped to find either a British picket line or ship. With him Champe carried his orderly book, saddle bags and five guineas (provided to him by Lee).
Quickly Champe was challenged by an American patrol and he quickly fled,. This is exactly what Champe and Lee wanted, for the British to believe him, his desertion had to seem real. Soon the patrol reported to Lee about Champe’s departure. Lee delayed the pursuit, by first inquiring with other patrol members. Surely a man of Champe’s stature was not defecting. Soon though Lee knew he had to order a pursuit, he just hoped Champe had put enough distance between him and the Americans to make his escape.
“Light Horse” Harry Lee
Though Lee’s delay allowed Champe some time, it was not enough to break away cleanly. As Champe was making his way to the Hudson River, the American patrol was on his heels and calling for his halt. In front of him were British warships in the Hudson River and a British patrol on the banks for the river. Now was the time of decision, he could be shot dead by the British or captured and executed by the Americans. The plan to capture Arnold and punish the traitor was already at its first “Rubicon.”
[i]The Revolutionary War Memoirs of General Henry Lee; DeCapo Press, 1998, pg. 396.
[ii] “Sergeant John Champe and Certain of His Contemporaries”; William and Mary College Quarterly, April 1937, pg. 153.
Brig. Gen. Daniel Morgan, the “Old Wagoner,” as he was known, commanded a light infantry corps assigned to Maj. Gen. Nathanael Greene’s southern army. Morgan met with Greene in Charlotte, North Carolina on December 3, 1780. Implementing a Fabian strategy, Greene split his army to harass the British while buying time to recruit additional soldiers. Greene ordered Morgan to use his 600-man command to forage and harass the enemy in the back country of South Carolina while avoiding battle with Lt. Gen. Charles Lord Cornwallis’ British army.
Once Cornwallis realized what was going on he dispatched Lt. Col. Banastre Tarleton’s British Legion to track down Morgan’s command and bring it to battle. Tarleton commanded a combined force of Loyalist American troops. The Legion consisted of fast-marching light infantry and dragoon units. At its peak strength, the Legion numbered approximately 200 infantry and 250 dragoons. It was known for its rapid movements and for its ruthless policy of giving the enemy no quarter. Patriot forces feared Tarleton and his Legion, and for good reason.
By January 12, Tarleton’s scouts had located Morgan’s army in the South Carolina back country, and Tarleton began an aggressive pursuit. Morgan hastily retreated to a position at the Cowpens, a prominent crossroads and pasturing grounds for cattle. The field was about 500 yards long and about as wide, dotted with trees, but devoid of undergrowth, which served as a food source for grazing battle.
Once Morgan learned that Tarleton was pursuing him, he spread the word for local militia units to rendezvous with him at the Cowpens. Through the night, South Carolina militiamen drifted into camp. Morgan visited their camps, encouraging them to stand and fight. Morgan’s words were particularly effective; the grizzled veteran knew how to motivate these men. They would need to be prepared, because they faced a stern task the next day.
January 17, 1781 dawned clear and very cold. After his scouts reported Tarleton’s approach, Morgan rode among his men, crying out, “Boys, get up! Benny’s coming!” Morgan designed a defense in depth that was intended to draw the British Legion in and then defeat them by pouncing on their exposed flanks. He knew that his militia had a reputation of being unreliable, and his ability to maneuver was limited, so he elected to design and implement a defense in depth that took advantage of the terrain features of the Cowpens.
Banastre Tartleton, British commander at Cowpens
Tarleton was overconfident. He believed that Morgan’s command was hemmed in by the nearby Broad River and also believed that the cleared fields of the Cowpens were ideal ground for his dragoons, and concluded that Morgan must be desperate to fight in such a place.
Morgan had prepared three defensive positions. Selected sharpshooters out front and hiding behind trees manned the first line. They picked off a number of Tarleton’s dragoons as they advance, specifically targeting officers. Traditional accounts indicate that they downed 15 of Tarleton’s dragoons this way. Confused, the dragoons retreated.
Having accomplished their initial goal, the sharpshooters then fell back about 150 yards or so to join the second line, which consisted of Brig. Gen. Andrew Pickens’ militiamen. Morgan asked these men to stand long enough to fire two volleys, after which they were to fall back to the third—and main line—manned by Col. John Eager Howard’s Continentals, another 150 yards or so in the rear of the second line. Thus, Morgan had designed a textbook example of a defense in depth.
Andrew Pickens, commanded some of the South Carolina militia at Cowpens
Some of the militia got off two volleys and then most of the militia fell back to a spot behind the third line. Tarleton orders his dragoons to pursue the retreating militiamen, and as the dragoons bore down on them with their sabres drawn, Col. William Washington’s Continental cavalry suddenly thundered onto the field, seemingly from nowhere. They routed the surprised Loyalist dragoons, who fled the field with heavy losses.
The infantry then engaged. With their drums beating and their fifes shrilling, the British infantry advanced at a trot. Recognizing that the moment of crisis had arrived, Morgan cheered his men on, rode to the front and rallied the militia, crying out, “form, form, my brave fellows! Old Morgan was never beaten!”
William Washington, commander of American cavalry at Cowpens and a distant relation to George Washington
Tarleton’s 71st Highlanders, a veteran unit made of Scotsmen, which had been held in reserved, now charged the Continental line, their skirling bagpipes adding to the cacophony of battle. Howard ordered his right flank to face slight right to counter a charge from that direction, but in the noise and chaos, was misunderstood as a call to retreat. As other companies along the line began to pull out, Morgan rode up to ask Howard if he had been beaten. Howard pointed at the orderly ranks of his retreat and assured Morgan that they had not been beaten. Morgan then put spurs to his horse and ordered the retreating units to face about and, on his order, to fire in unison. Their deadly volley dropped numerous British soldiers, who, sensing victory, had broken ranks in a determined charge. The combination of this volley and a determined bayonet charge by the Continentals turned the tide of battle in favor of the Americans.
At the moment, the rallied and re-formed militia and Washington’s cavalry attacked, leading to a double envelopment of the British, who began surrendering in masses. Tarleton and some his men fought on, but others refused to obey orders and fled the field in a panic. Finally, Tarleton realized that he had been badly beaten and fled down the Green River Toad with a handful of his men. Racing ahead of his cavalry, William Washington dashed forward and engaged Tarleton and two of his officers in hand-to-hand combat. Only a well-timed pistol shot by his young bugler saved Washington from the upraised saber of one of the British officers. Tarleton and his remaining forces escaped and galloped off to Cornwallis’ camp to report the bad news.
And bad news it was: Tarleton’s Legion lost 110 dead, over 200 wounded and 500 captured. By contrast, Morgan lost only 12 killed and 60 wounded. His perfectly designed and perfectly implemented defense had worked even beyond the Old Wagoner’s wildest dreams and highest hopes.
Knowing that Cornwallis would pursue him, Morgan buried the dead and then withdrew to the north to live and fight another day. Morgan reunited with Greene’s army and the combined force headed for North Carolina. Morgan, whose health was fragile, soon retired from further duty in the field, but he had left his mark. Cowpens was his finest moment, and set a precedent for Greene to follow two months later at Guilford Courthouse.
Battle of Cowpens (Courtesy of Campaign 1776/CWT)
*Suggestions for additional reading: for a superb book-length microtactical treatment of the Battle of Cowpens, see Lawrence E. Babits, A Devil of a Whipping: The Battle of Cowpens (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1998). This book is the primary resource consulted in drafting this article.
Propaganda, imperial ambitions, and one small ear caused a flare-up in the New World between the European powers of Great Britain and Spain. In one of the most comical, bewildering, and interesting causes for war, the conflict known as the War of Jenkins’ Ear began eight years after the incident itself. The connections that this conflict would have with the successful outcome of the American Revolutionary War is what is most striking. Continue reading “War of Jenkins’ Ear and the Washington Connection”→
Robert Morris explaining the recent archaeological investigations at Parker’s Revenge along Battle Road.
Recently, ERW members Phil Greenwalt and Rob Orrison spent the 241st anniversary of the opening of the American Revolution in the outskirts of Boston in Concord, Massachusetts. It was a whirlwind trip of research, photos and most importantly meeting the stakeholders in historic preservation and public history in the region. We already knew how active Concord was in promoting and preserving its history, but each time you visit you are blown away by their efforts and their appreciation for their past.
While in Concord, our more than gracious host was Jayne Gordon. Jayne has been involved in almost every public history project or initiative in the Concord area. A native of the area, everyone in Lexington and Concord knows Jayne. Jayne took the time to introduce us to many people and organizations in the area. I wanted to focus on two organizations that are doing great work in the region to promote local history with a national impact.
The Robbins House
Formerly the Drinking Gourd Project, The Robbins House is introducing people to the story of African Americans in the region. The all-volunteer board and staff are breaking new ground. Facing misconceptions of slavery in 18th century Concord head on, Robbins House President Maria Madison has led the charge to change the narrative.
The Robbins House is an early 19th century house that was inhabited by the first generation
The Robbins House
of descendants of formerly enslaved African America Revolutionary War veteran Caesar Robbins. Using the story of Caesar Robbins as a base, Maria and her fellow volunteers interpret the role of African Americans in 18th and 19th century Concord. Most forget that 18th century Massachusetts was a colony that supported and practiced slavery. The Robbins House also interpret stories of how literary icons, such as Ralph Waldo Emerson and David Henry Thoreau, dealt with slavery and prejudice. Again, most visitors (including me!) have their preconceived notions challenged. The Robbins House also provides exhibits on other aspects of African American history of Concord, as well as lectures, programs and self-guided tours of Concord.
The Robbins House’s location next to the famous North Bridge provides an interesting juxtaposition on freedom and liberty. Just a few hundred yards away the dream of American freedom and independence began and the Robbins House is filling the void of how that liberty equated to a large portion of the American population. On your next visit to Concord, it is a worth your time and support. I really enjoyed my time meeting with Maria and look forward to future conversations and visits. Visit their website at for more information www.robbinshouse.org.
Friends of Minuteman National Park
Many of our readers are aware of the recent “Parker’s Revenge” project and preservation project with the Civil War Trust’s “Campaign 1776.” Also, I bet all of our readers are aware of Minuteman National Historical Park, but how many know about the great efforts of the Friends of Minuteman National Historical Park? I must admit, until my recent visit I include myself if that “unknowing” category. Jayne introduced us to Robert Morris, President of the “Friends,” and Bob spent a morning going over the organization and their recent efforts to promote new historic research, archaeology and restoration of the area known as “Parker’s Revenge” along the Battle Road.
This ridge is now considered where Capt. Parker and his Lexington militia attacked the British on their retreat back to Boston
“Parker’s Revenge” occurred on the afternoon of April 19, 1775 along the road between Concord and Lexington. Captain Parker, who earlier that day confronted the British on the Lexington Green, regrouped his militia and prepared for an attack on the British column as it made its way back to Boston. As they marched through Lincoln and approached Fiske Hill, Parker’s men opened up a deadly fire from behind rocks. Up until last year, historians have always interpreted the event to take place along the Battle Road next to the modern Minuteman National Historical Park Visitor Center. But now, thanks to fundraising and manpower efforts of the “Friends”, the history of “Parker’s Revenge” is being rewritten. With new archaeology, the area of “Parker’s Revenge” will be reinterpreted a few hundred yards west of the current location. Bob and his team of volunteers also plan to work with the National Park Service to assist in restore the historic landscape in the area.
The “Friends” also fundraise to support interpretation projects, grounds projects, and support the large volunteer corps at the park. One of the most important tasks for the organization is advocating on behalf of the national park. My morning spent with Bob and Jayne walking the newly discovered “Parker’s Revenge” battlefield was a highlight of my trip. Being one of the first people to walk the “new” battlefield and hear how the project developed was a special treat.
I highly recommend you follow along the many projects the “Friends” have on going to support Minuteman National Historic Park. They are always looking for new members, no matter where you may live. Visit their website at www.friendsofminuteman.org
Again, I cannot thank Jayne Gordon enough for showing me around Concord and sharing her passion for history. I appreciated my short time with Maria Madison of the Robbins House and Robert Morris of the Friends of Minuteman National Park. Both are breaking new ground and supporting preservation and interpretation of the events surrounding spring 1775. These are the people on the front lines and that meshes well with one of the established goals of Emerging Revolutionary War is to share and promote these public history organizations. They are instrumental in telling the story of the American Revolution.
On a recent trip to Boston, I was shown by fellow Emerging Revolutionary War historian Rob Orrison, Dorchester Heights. One of my favorite quotes of the entire American Revolutionary War was in reference to the Continental Army’s move to fortify the very heights at Dorchester.
“My God, these fellows have done more work in one night than I could make my army do in three months.” Uttered by General William Howe the morning after the Americans had used the night to build an entire fortification network on the commanding hillsides of Dorchester.
This move, conducted in the secrecy of the night, led to the British evacuation of Boston, after an aborted offensive by the British do a providential snowstorm. Less than two weeks after that influential night, on March 17, 1776, the British evacuated Boston, never to return.
I did not get to spend too much time on the heights but I was able to snap a few pictures, shown below. But, I did have the great fortune to be on the heights at night, looking out over Boston, which has grown just slightly since 1776. A few moments of silence ensued, where I had the chance to mull over what that view must have looked like and what the soldiers who hurriedly dragged the fascines and gabions, and shoveled dirt that night must have worried about as they feverishly tried to finish their duties.
Stone monument marking the spot where the cannon that Henry Knox brought from Fort Ticonderoga to Boston stood. You can see the lights of Boston in the background with the reflection of the lights on the water past the first row of houses in the foreground.
The cannon that bore down on Boston from the heights of Dorchester Heights were a product of one of the greatest feats of the entire war. Former Boston bookseller turned artillerist extraordinaire had brought the heavy armament on an arduous trek, through the late stages of winter from upstate New York to the Continental Army besieging Boston.
Henry Knox was the man behind the delivery and he would serve as George Washington’s Chief of Artillery before the war was over. Afterwards, Knox would become the first Secretary of War in Washington’s Administration. At Dorchester Heights, with Washington’s planning and Knox’s delivery the city of Boston was liberated without firing a shot.
A view of the monument
The heights retained its military importance through the end of the War of 1812. By the end of the 19th century, in 1898, the General Courts of Massachusetts had commissioned a monument to stand on what remained of the heights. The white marble Georgian revival tower that stands 115 feet, commemorates that night in 1776 that American soldiers did what British soldiers would take months to complete. By 1978, after a listing on the National Register of Historic Places, the monument and remaining hill site was handed to the National Park Service by the city of Boston. Dorchester Heights became part of Boston National Historical Park which was established in 1974.
When planning a visit to Boston National Historical Park and to Dorchester Heights, which is open to visitation, both during the day and at night please consult the website for the national park here. That way you can familiarize yourself with the regulations and how to make the most of your visit.
Richmond, Virginia, when mentioned in terms of United States military history usually conjures up images of the American Civil War. However, at the University of Richmond, every other month of the year, there is a dedicated history round table to another, earlier conflict in American history.
Founded in 2007, the eight round table dedicated to the American Revolutionary War era, the Richmond American Revolution Round Table is “devoted to the study of all aspects of the Revolutionary period.”
Their meetings include dinner and a guest speaker, once a year a day-long field trip that covers an aspect of the revolutionary era is available to its 75 members and guests. Each year the round table selects a national author to receive its book award.
The group, described by Bill Welsch, president of the round table, are a “group of eclectic, yet historically-minded individuals.” Furthermore, “all are welcome to participate in this enlightening and enjoyable pursuit, regardless of knowledge level.”
So, next time in the Richmond area, check out the American Revolution Round Table of Richmond, Virginia and stop in for to listen to a great presentation. Check out their website, via the link above (American Revolutionary War Round Tables on the top bar of this page) or send Mr. Bill Welsch an email at wmwelsch@comcast.net.
I grew up in a suburb of Reading, Pennsylvania. Reading is the county seat of Berks County, and is located about sixty miles northwest of Philadelphia. Reading is an old town; Richard and Thomas Penn, the sons of William Penn, founded the town in 1743. It is situated on the banks of the Schuylkill River, and has always been an important logistics center as a result. German immigrants settled much of Berks County, and many in the area spoke the language. Today, Reading remains the gateway to the so-called Pennsylvania Dutch region.
There’s a part of the east side of the city, situated at the base of Mt. Penn, the dominating high ground that overlooks the city, called Hessian Camp. This is what a local newspaper writer said about that part of town a few years ago: “Reading’s Hessian Camp section is arguably the city’s finest neighborhood. Mansions line the curvy, hilly streets…The neighborhood, tucked into the side of Mount Penn, is hidden from the hustle and bustle of the downtown.” My mother’s favorite aunt and uncle lived in Hessian Camp.
Historical marker for the “Hessian Camp”
A historical marker erected by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania in Hessian Camp stands out. As a child, I thought it an odd name, so I started asking questions. I eventually learned that it was the site of a Hessian prisoner of war camp during the Revolutionary War. That satisfied my youthful curiosity, but as an adult who has traveled back to Reading regularly since moving away in 1983, I retained my interest in it and remained curious about it. Consequently, I decided to tackle it and see what I could learn of it. Eventually, the story took shape.
After George Washington crossed the Delaware River and surprised Hessian mercenaries at the Battle of Trenton, the Hessian prisoners of war were take inland for detention. Due to the heavy German presence in Reading, it was a perfect place to house these men because so many of the locals spoke the language and could converse with these men. They also hoped that the Hessians would desert and take up residence—and perhaps their loyalty—with the Patriot cause. Further, as a result of Reading’s location, it would require a determined campaign to free the prisoners of war.
The initial prisoners of war were housed in a temporary prison along the banks of the Schuylkill River. They spent a cold, rough winter, and many died of disease and/or cold. After the Battle of Saratoga, when it became obvious that more Hessian prisoners of war would be heading to Reading for detention, the local citizenry demanded that the POW’s be moved to a more remote location. The original campsite was about 12 acres in size, and housed about 1,000 detainees—about the same as the permanent population of Reading. There was plenty of fresh water from a spring and plenty of lumber to construct huts, so the site was chosen.
There are two surviving accounts from German POW’s housed in Reading. Johann Bense, from the Duchy of Brunswick, arrived in Reading on June 16, 1781:
On the bank of the Schuylkill, we had been camping on a meadow in the open air for 8 weeks and were plagued by the great heat during the day and by rain and cold during the night. On August 9, we marched from the Schuylkill via Reading onto a high, rocky mountain.
We were supposed to build barracks there. But because we did not want to agree to that right away, but rather made ourselves straw huts, we were treated very severely. A sharp command from the corporal forced us to build the barracks and it was our good fortune because all our straw huts were consumed by fire on October 21, 1781.
Therefore, those who had not yet completed their barracks, had to do more now to get them ready. Through that, the men got some freedom to go into the country and work and so they kept their supplies. They are read out twice a month [report for roll call twice a month].
On April 26, 1782, we received money, linen trousers, shirts, and 1 pair of shoes from Lieutenant du Roi [of the Regiment Prinz Friederich]. Now, our situation was pretty good.
It did not last long, however, that they locked us up and all who were in the country and worked there, had to come in [to the city].
In the month of July, they read us an order from Congress. Any one of us wanting to be free, and that immediately, should give 80 silver talers [one British pound was worth 5 5/6 talers] as ransom and if he did not have that much money, a citizen should pay it for him with whom he should work in bondage for 3 years.
But if we wished to enter service with them [in the American army], each would get 8 silver talers as gratuity and after the end of the war, he would be given 100 acres of land. This now was voluntary, to be sure, but because our men did not want to agree to that, we were treated very harshly.
Since a few of us deserted, 356 men [of ours] were suddenly taken to the Reading jail and because there was not enough room, they had to lie in the court yard in the rain and the cold. They had to buy wood and water.
Two hundred of our men were sent to the prison in Lancaster; the artisans were also taken there. Afterwards another 100 men were taken into prison, among them was myself. Because a few non-commissioned officers deserted, 42 sergeants and non-commissioned officers were also taken to jail. These had to lie in the cellar and below in the dungeon [at Lancaster]. Many of our men who could not stand it entered [American] service or sold themselves as indentured slaves for 3 years. The rest, who had been prisoners since September 11, were let out on December 16 but each had to give 1 taler.
The non-commissioned officers were let out after 17 days but because some deserted right away again, those having been in jail before were quickly taken back to prison and had to remain there up to the exchange.
Some of our men took up service on a pirate ship which was captured immediately at its departure from Philadelphia, and taken to New York. In the last year of our captivity, we thus were the most wretched and most miserable men. None of us could go out and none of the inhabitants were allowed to see us…
On February 13, we had our first news of peace [from a Hessian Quartermaster]. We continued being in doubt until finally in March a French ship arrived in Philadelphia with the same message. It was made known to us at the barracks on the 26th that there was peace with France, Spain, Holland, and England and now we were daily hoping for our release. . . On April 16 in the afternoon, the non-commissioned officers came out of the city jail and [returned] to the barracks.
On April 21, which was also the second day of Easter, at 12 Noon, 13 cannon shots were fired for the 13 free colonies. The whole city was illuminated in the evening and fires were made on April 24. In the morning the English Commissary Maclean came to give us each a blanket. Other staff officers came and we prisoners found out we would march to New York.
Bense departed Reading on May 3, 1783, and by May 10, had arrived in New York City. He eventually returned home to the Duchy of Brunswick,
The second account comes from a letter by Sgt.-Maj. Samuel Vaupel, who served in the Leib Company, Erbprinz Regiment of Hessen-Hanau. He reported to his commanding officer, Lt. Col. Lentz, in New York:
Your Excellency, I have a report to humbly send you, also a resolution from the Board of War of Congress and the address of Captain Thomas Bowen. From these, your Excellency will see in what a depressing situation we are in….We were told everyone must choose to either buy himself free or join the American service. The king would not help us, and our prince did not want us… Nobody [from the ranks] responded to this reading and speech. It was immediately ordered that now nobody could leave camp and the proclamation read three times daily. But our people pretty much stuck together.
On August 7, 1782, we were visited by Major-General [Benjamin] Lincoln and Brigadier-General [Moses] Hazen from Lancaster. The Corps had to form up and we were reviewed but they didn’t speak. They rode our regimental street and around the barracks, then went on to Reading.
On the morning of the 10th instant, Brigadier-General Hazen returned with a German Captain [Anthony] Selin from his regiment. The troops had to turn out again and form a circle. The General spoke, which was translated by the above mentioned captain. We should choose to either make ourselves free by paying 80 Dollars or join the American army; the King of England did not care enough about us to exchange us or pay for our provisions; they cannot provide for us any longer when they have problems feeding their own men; and if we continue refusing to make our decision, serious measures will be taken.
After the speech we NCOs said that we could not agree to these conditions, and asked if he would allow two NCOs from our Corps to go to New York to report these conditions to our commanding officer. If he says all hope is gone and doesn’t need us any longer, then every man can do as he wishes. The general’s answer was: He wanted to report it to Congress, but we have not heard anything as of now and don’t expect to.
The above mentioned Captain Selin is Swiss-born and cannot be described badly enough; he was introduced to us as our commander. The new captain called together all the NCOs and gave orders that nobody will dare go 10 paces beyond the post without being termed a deserter and when the provost guard calls and they don’t stop, the guard should fire on them
The water is located just outside the post, but nobody may go for it alone. The NCO of the guard has to call for water and one of his armed guards goes along to the well. This captain has ordered the guard to allow nobody out of camp, not even a woman or child, without permission. [Some of for-hire soldiers were allowed to have wives and children with them.]
He also said he has forbidden the local residents into the camp. It is not permitted to openly bring us an apple. Since all this did not help, the above mentioned captain announced the NCOs were to blame for the lack of enlistments – that they discouraged the men from enlisting.
This lasted until September 7, when he unexpectedly came to the barracks at daybreak and gave the order to march; our people were to go to the mountain with sack and pack. We all packed our things and when we were formed up on the barracks mountain, the captain went from right to left without saying anything. Finally, with the Brunswickers, he began pulling young people from the ranks.
When he came to our regiment he only said the married men and NCOs should step forward. The remainder dressed ranks, were turned right and joined up with the Brunswickers to march to the jail in Reading.
There were 142 men of our regiments and 158 Brunswickers, 300 in all. They filled up the jail and the remainder had to camp in the jail yard. The first day these people had to pay 2 pence for a pail of water and also had to pay for firewood to cook with. They were in this jail through the 10th instant.
On the 11th instant 102 men from the regiment and 84 Brunswickers were taken to the jail in Lancaster.
On the 24th instant, 21 men from the regiment and 25 Brunswickers were again taken to the jail in Lancaster. There is now nobody from the regiment in the Reading jail except the baker Muller from the Lt. Colonel’s Company.
Private Wiskermann of the Leib Company was employed in Reading by a rich widow. On September 2, the captain had him brought in from the widow and asked him to enlist, buy himself free, or be sent to an underground prison or dungeon as the English call it. He decided he would rather be free and the above mentioned madam, named Mifflin, ransomed him.
Fourteen men from the regiment who were employed at an iron smelter, have returned to the barracks. On September 23, 10 of these men were taken to the Reading jail. The other 4 men remained sick in the barracks; the other 10 men were taken, with others, on September 24 to Lancaster. They also had to each pay the jail keeper in Reading 1/4 Dollar for the one night lodging.
Concerning us here in the barracks, we expect daily and hourly to go to the jail. Captain Selin indicated, when the others went to jail, that at the slightest incident or attempt at desertion, the others would also go into the jail. We have to hear daily from this captain how our tyrannical prince no longer needs us and that we will not get any more clothing or money from him. We collectively humbly beg your Excellency to have mercy on us and rescue us from this unhappy and depressing situation.
Should this be impossible, we beg you to have the grace to send us uniforms, blankets, and money. Otherwise it will be impossible to withstand the coming winter as our blankets are torn and so little firewood is issued that we can’t make the fires small enough. . . nobody is allowed out to gather firewood.
Sergeant-Major Vaupel ransomed himself on or about December 8, 1782. His fate is unknown. The fates of the poor German soldiers sent to fight in North America remains a fascinating mystery.
Other than large, handsome houses, there is nothing left of the Hessian campsite in Reading. The historical marker and the name of the neighborhood are the only reflection of the former occupants of the area. However, the presence of those prisoners of war was among the earliest things to draw my interest in the Revolutionary War.
A map showing the location of the Hessian POW camp in Reading, PA.
…at Lafayette College, that is. Last February I had the opportunity to join fellow members of the American Friends of Lafayette (yes, that’s a thing, and you can—and should—join by visiting this website) in the “reserved seating” section (that’s the second row, folks) of the absolutely packed Colton Chapel on the campus of Lafayette College in Easton, Pennsylvania. We were settled into the pews to hear Sarah Vowell discuss her New York Times bestseller, Lafayette in the Somewhat United States.
Lafayette College is, obviously, an apt place to hear someone expound upon the merits of Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette (say that five times fast). The college was founded in 1826 on the heels of the Marquis’ “Farewell Tour” of the United States, and aptly named for him “in memory and out of respect for the signal services rendered by General Lafayette in the great cause of freedom” (from the Charter of Lafayette College, Article I). Lafayette College isn’t the only place in the United States named for or out of respect of the Marquis—in her book, Vowell notes that “nowadays, Lafayette is a place, not a person,” and she makes an appropriate observation. According to Lafayette scholar (and AFofL president) Alan Hoffman, over 80 localities in the United States have been named in honor of the Marquis, with Fayetteville, North Carolina being the very first in 1783.
Place and landscape are interesting lenses through which to examine Lafayette’s relationship with the United States. Though his final resting place is in Paris, Lafayette is even buried in American soil–from Bunker Hill, as a matter of fact–collected in 1825.
Lafayette first ventured to the somewhat-not-yet-but-might-actually-be-if-Washington-can-keep-it-together United States in 1777. Lafayette’s first daybreak view was when he awoke in his bedchamber at Major Benjamin Huger’s home near Georgetown, South Carolina, after stepping off of the ship Victory the previous evening. Lafayette surveyed what was to him, a new world:
The next morning was beautiful. Everything around me was new to me, the room, the bed draped in delicate mosquito curtains…the strange new beauty of the landscape outside my windows, the luxuriant vegetation—all combined to produce a magical effect.
Vowell describes how Lafayette, in 1777, in his enthusiasm and naiveté, wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking at, but loved it. Lafayette surveyed scenes outside of his window that were, true to Vowell’s title, somewhat the United States—Congress declared independence from Great Britain a year earlier, but Parliament had yet to recognized it. Similarly, the very physical landscape Lafayette described was, well, schizophrenic. Huger’s Georgian-inspired South Carolina home where the ultimate patriot awoke that morning was nestled near a town named after—who else–King George III, yet Georgetown was a hotbed of patriotism that contributed to the infamy of everyone’s favorite Revolutionary rascal Mel Gibson Francis Marion.
Vowell’s text weaves us through the rest of Lafayette’s tenure in the somewhat-but-becoming-ever-closer-to-actually-being United States, all the way to up to Lafayette’s participation in the Siege of Yorktown, the somewhat-last-battle of the American Revolution.
But Lafayette’s relationship with the somewhat United States didn’t end there. In 1824 at the invitation of President James Monroe, the Marquis, now the last surviving general of the American Revolution, embarked on a “Farewell Tour” of the country he so passionately helped establish. A bona fide rock star, Lafayette arrived in New York to an estimated 80,000 screaming fans.
Let’s take a break for some quantitative population analysis:
Year
1824
1964
Population of New York:
123,000
7,000,000
Number of Screaming Fans:
80,000
4,000
Percentage of Population:
65.04%
0.06%
The Marquis de Lafayette by Ary Scheffer, 1824.You know how these guys are. 1964
Who’s the rockstar now?! A-hem…as I was saying…
Lafayette’s Farewell Tour of the United States included visits to the very places named in his honor—Fayetteville, North Carolina received him in March 1825—and places were renamed because of the tour (further proof that Lafayette had a powerful impact on the physical landscape of the United States, somewhat or otherwise). And just as he did in 1777, in 1824 Lafayette reemerged as a hero of the American cause. As Vowell pointed out in her talk at Lafayette College, the Marquis was an apolitical unifier who ushered in a new era of patriotism when the (somewhat) United States needed it the most. When Lafayette arrived, the country was in the midst of a heated election season—one that many felt would either break the young nation or peacefully transition it into a new phase of her existence without living vestiges of the original Revolutionary population to guide it. As Vowell argues, an anxious American populous united in a rally around the hero, and both Lafayette’s visit and the election of 1824 highlight what historian Robert Hay called “the desperate desire of the American people to maintain for as long as possible some physical and spiritual connection with the Revolutionary generation.”
All of this is to say nothing about Lafayette’s influential views on abolition, women’s rights, and other important reforms that, if he didn’t support directly, he was eventually called down to support (e.g., Evelyn Wotherspoon Wainwright’s 1920 pleading to a statue of Lafayette in D.C.’s Lafayette Square to “Speak, Lafayette, dead these hundred years but still living in the hearts of the American people.”) As Vowell argues in Lafayette in the Somewhat United States, the American people, and the rights and liberties they enjoy, would not be ours without a little help from our friends (see what I did there?)–one friend, specifically—the Marquis de Lafayette, and his constant contributions to the somewhat, ever growing, ever discoursing, ever revolutionary United States. I encourage you to check out Sarah Vowell’s book, and learn more about why Lafayette is permanently fixed on the landscape of the United States of America—and in the hearts and minds of its citizens. No somewhat about it.
Read More!
Robert P. Hay, “The American Revolution Twice Recalled: Lafayette’s Visit and the Election of 1824,” Indiana Magazine of History, Volume 69, Issue 1, pp 43-62.
Sarah Vowell, Lafayette in the Somewhat United States, New York: Riverhead Books, 2015.
236 years ago America suffered its worst defeat of the entire Revolutionary War. On May 12, 1780, patriot General Benjamin Lincoln surrendered the city of Charleston (then, Charlestown) South Carolina and its garrison of about 6,000 troops to the British army under General Henry Clinton.
The Siege of Charleston. This image shows a view of the British works and the city of Charleston in the background.
The British had set their sights on the wealthy southern city after taking Savannah in 1778 and successfully defending it against French and American attacks in 1779. The British expedition against Charleston was a joint effort by the Royal Army and Navy. General Clinton advanced by land, while Admiral Mariot Arbuthnot blockaded the harbor. Their combined force had about 13,000 men. George Washington in New York dispatched the Virginia Continental Line from his army to reinforce the southern army stationed in the city of Charleston. General Benjamin Lincoln had a difficult choice of whether or not to stay in Charleston (a very difficult location to defend as it was on a peninsula) or evacuate the city and save his 6,000 man army. The citizens of Charleston stubbornly insisted that Lincoln stay in the city, and Lincoln deferred.
General Benjamin Lincoln
Clinton moved down the peninsula and on April 1 began a classic siege of the city. Lincoln got good news when on April 7 when the Virginia Continentals reinforced his army after marching nearly 700 miles. Unfortunately, the noose around Charleston’s neck was just beginning to tighten. The British dug earthworks inching closer and closer to the town while hundreds of American and British cannon fired at each other for 42 days. This would end up being the longest siege of the entire war. During this time there were also numerous infantry attacks and sorties as the Americans desperately tried to break the siege. On April 24, a select group of Patriots sprang into the British works and bayoneted more than a dozen British soldiers. During the fighting over the 42 days about 500 American and British troops would be killed and wounded and dozens of Charleston citizens would be killed from the bombardment.
General Henry Clinton
Ultimately, it became impossible to break through or escape. On May 9th, the British unleashed a massive bombardment. General William Moultrie remembered it clearly: “There was a tremendous cannonade (180-200 pieces of heavy cannon firing), it was a glorious sight, to see them like meteors crossing each other, and bursting in the air; it appeared as if the stars were tumbling down. The fire was incessant almost the whole night; cannonballs whizzing and shells hissing continually amongst us; ammunition chests and temporary magazines blowing up, great guns bursting, and wounded men groaning along the lines: it was a dreadful night!”
General William Moultrie. Moultrie’s brother, Thomas, was killed in the sortie on April 24.
On May 12, 1780 Lincoln formally surrendered his army to Henry Clinton, after what one British officer described as “a gallant defense.” It was the largest defeat of the war for the Americans and the next time an American force this large surrendered to a foreign army was during World War II at Bataan. The defeat was humiliating. The captured Continental soldiers would ultimately be placed on prison ships in Charleston harbor where hundreds more would die of disease and hunger.
View of conditions on board a prison ship during the Revolutionary War. About 12,000 American prisoners of war died during the Revolutionary. Most were imprisoned in New York harbor (depicted here) but many were imprisoned in Charleston harbor after 1780.
General Benjamin Lincoln was exchanged and was with Washington’s army a year and a half later at Yorktown. When General Cornwallis was forced to surrender his army in the face of American siege works, he refused to attend the surrender ceremony. His second in command, General Charles O’Hara went to surrender his sword to the French general Rochambeau, who refused it and directed he give it to Washington. Washington, in turn refused, and directed he give it to none other than Benjamin Lincoln. The disaster at Charleston had been avenged. But it would be more than a year after the victory at Yorktown before the city of Charleston would be liberated from British control on December 14, 1782.
Surrender of the British at Yorktown. General Lincoln is front and center on the white horse. A similar scene, only reversed, occurred in Charleston in 1780.
This event has been vastly overlooked and little remembered throughout history. Today the only reminders of this important event are a small piece of the ‘hornwork’ (part of the American defenses) which survived and a state historic marker that was placed six years ago today for the 230th anniversary of the surrender. Most of the hallowed ground that made up the deadly no-mans-land and the locations of the American and British earthworks are now under the trendy upper King Street area in the city of Charleston. There was no attempt to save this battlefield land after the war. This exemplifies the importance preservation of battlefield land has on how we remember our history. Next time you visit Charleston, remember the significant sacrifices made in 1780 in that part of the city, even with no battlefield set aside to honor those men who fought. The events that occurred there showed just how close America came to defeat as late as 1780 and gives more luster to the names of the men who in the face of such daunting challenges and defeats fought, died, persevered and were eventually victorious.
Dedication of a marker on the site of the American surrender in 2010.
Emerging Revolutionary War is honored to welcome back historian Robert “Bert” Dunkerly.
During a trip to Mobile, Alabama for some Civil War research, I came across a fascinating and lesser-known aspect of the American Revolution. When I travel, I always keep my eye out for unusual finds and hidden history. I was rewarded on my trip to Mobile with a great discovery.
Fort Conde (author collection)
One of the main historic sites in downtown Mobile is the reconstructed Fort Conde. This brick fort interprets the early history of Mobile and the region under the flags of France, Spain, and the United States. Just outside the fort is a marker discussing the battle of Fort Charlotte.
Mobile was originally the capital of the French Louisiana Territory until the close of the French and Indian War. As part of the settlement of that conflict in 1763, this French territory passed to the British. Fort Conde, built in 1723, was renamed Fort Charlotte by its new owners.
Map of Ft. Conde superimposed over modern Mobile streets, (photo by author)
Most of us know that the French were anxiously watching the American Revolution when the conflict broke out, hoping to score revenge against their English adversaries. Also watching with interest were the Spanish.
The British garrisons along the Gulf of Mexico coast (Pensacola, Mobile, Baton Rouge) were quite small and vulnerable. The Spanish had been providing material aid and funds to the Americans, but finally declared war on Britain in 1779. The Spanish were ambivalent about American independence, and unlike the French, did not recognize the United States, but did agree to help militarily.
Even before Spain’s entry into the war, New Orleans was a source of aid smuggled in for the American effort. The Crescent City, and all the land west of the Mississippi, had been awarded to Spain at the close of the French and Indian War. From here, supplies moved up the Mississippi to Fort Pitt at Pittsburgh, PA. And from New Orleans, Governor Bernardo de Galvez attacked British posts up the Mississippi and along the Gulf Coast.
General Bernardo de Galvez, (artist unknown)
A statue of the Spanish general who did much to wrest the Mississippi and Gulf coast areas away from the British stands near the World Trade Center in New Orleans. A gift from Spain to the city of New Orleans, the statue is a reminder of this important but neglected aspect of the war. A group known as Granaderos y Damas de Galvez are dedicated to preserving his memory and that of the Spanish role in the Revolution.
Oliver Pollock was a Philadelphia merchant with close ties in Cuba and New Orleans. When the war broke out, he used his connections to aid the Revolutionary cause from the Crescent City. In 1777 he was appointed “commercial agent of the United States at New Orleans” and used his fortune to finance American operations in the west, such as General George Rogers Clark. When Spain entered the war he served as an aide to General Bernardo de Galvez.
Moving up from New Orleans, a force under General de Galvez, that included Spanish troops, American volunteers, Acadian settles, and free blacks, attacked and captured the British outpost of Fort Richmond at Baton Rouge on September 21, 1779. Today a memorial with plaques and a cannon marks the site.
In February, 1780, Spanish troops and American volunteers under Governor Bernardo de Galvez laid siege to the 300 British in Fort Charlotte at Mobile. The siege lasted a month. The garrison’s surrender gave the Spanish control of this important site, and removed all English military forces from the Gulf region.
This was one of the few actions of the war in which Spanish and American troops fought side by side. Spain declared war on Britain but did not recognized the United States, their primary interest being to settle scores with the British.
For more information on these fascinating events, check the following websites:
Washington also learned of Arnold’s treason on September 24th during his planned visit to West Point. Washington reportedly took the news calmly and began to investigate the depth of treason in his officer corps. Maj. Lee assisted Washington in his investigation, and both found no evidence of other American officers involved in the plot. Washington then turned to the capture of Arnold, and that is where our “hero” comes into the story.
the American Friends of Lafayette (yes, that’s a thing, and you can—and should—join by visiting 
Emerging Revolutionary War Era 