Germantown and the Roads to Valley Forge Read online

  With the troops bivouacked outside of town, the tension in the streets momentarily abated. “But for a few officers which were riding about the city, I imagine to give orders & provide quarters for their men, in 3 hours afterwards you would not have thought so great a change had taken place,” Sarah Logan Fisher observed. “Everything appeared still and quiet.”78 By evening, though, Robert Morton noticed that the places near where the troops were camped “already begin to show the great destruction of the Fences and other things, the dreadful consequences of an army however friendly.”79 He began to worry about Plantation, his family's country villa near Gray's Ferry, for the Queen's Dragoons were camped nearby.

  The city was far from completely secure. The Pennsylvania Navy, commanded by Commodore John Hazelwood, had pulled some of its vessels up the Delaware toward Burlington, but most of its warships, including the 32-gun frigate Montgomery (called “the Provincial ship” by the British); the 8-gun armed sloop Fly; a large, floating battery; and several gondolas or row galleys—large rowboats, each mounting a single heavy cannon and propelled by one sail and a team of eight oarsmen—were down below the Neck, the peninsula formed by the Delaware and Schuylkill Rivers. The Continental frigate Delaware, “the Country ship,” was also down near Fort Mifflin. Additionally, the navy had an array of fire ships, large rafts loaded with combustibles, prepared for use against Lord Howe's fleet as it came up the river. “There seems to be no want either of fireworks or Manly spirit on the Delaware,” James Lovell, the last congressman out of town, wrote from the city on the morning of September 24 as he prepared to leave for good. “Unless there should be a fatal deficiency of the latter on the country part Philadelphia will not go to ruin in this tryal of Sr William & My lord conjunctly.”80

  Small parties of Americans continued to hover around the general vicinity of the city and Germantown, scouting, skirmishing, looking for weaknesses and opportunities. “In our camp at Germantown we were…harassed by a party of 300 rebels, who attacked our pickets fiercely, but were eventually driven back,” von Münchhausen wrote on the twenty-sixth.81 Below town, after work began on the batteries, Capt. John Montrésor went down to scout around the Neck. “This day myself and servant near being taken at Gloucester Point by the enemy's galley stationed there whilst I was reconnoitering,” the chief engineer wrote, relieved to have avoided capture.82

  Arson was still a major worry, and citizen patrols continued that night. Philadelphia's main fire alarm was the State House bell, but it was gone, as were all of the city bells save for one small chime in the Christ Church belfry. “An alarm of fire in the Evening” put everyone on edge, “but it was only a Chimney on fire by accident,” Captain-Lieutenant Peebles wrote, noting, “the inhabitants [are] afraid that the Rebels will set fire to the City.”83

  Another kind of fire erupted on the waterfront the next morning, throwing the whole city into commotion. Around 8 AM, British sentries on duty in Southwark were greeted by the sight of warships coming up the Delaware River under full sail. Two small frigates and a host of smaller vessels silently approached from around the bend of Gloucester Point. No flags appeared on the ships, but it was evident to the king's men that the Pennsylvania Navy gunboats, led by the 28-gun Continental frigate Delaware with a crew of 150 commanded by Capt. Charles Alexander, were coming up for a fight.

  The British duty drummers beat the alarm, which was immediately picked up by the battalion musicians, who sounded the call “To Arms,” the drummers beating the long roll and the fifers shrieking a lively tune, “The Essex March.” The Royal Artillerymen and the 1st Grenadier Battalion responded quickly, turning out under arms in front of their encampment. The din carried through town, alerting the other British and Hessian battalions and the whole population that something big was up.

  Capt.-Lt. Francis Downman commanded the four 12-pounders and the two Royal howitzers of the 2nd Artillery Brigade posted below the city. Gen. Samuel Cleveland was also present, as was Capt. James Moncrieff of the Engineers. Only two gun emplacements—protective earthworks with platforms of thick planking for the heavy guns—had been completed by the British Engineers at that moment, so two of the 12-pounders and the two howitzers were placed on the riverbank. “My guns were drawn down on the bank entirely exposed,” Downman wrote, and from General Cleveland, “I received the disagreeable orders not to fire at the ships until they fired at me, which made me extremely uneasy.”84

  The two light 6-pounders attached to the 1st Grenadier Battalion also came forward. One of the fieldpieces was commanded by Lt. George Wilson, an active, eager young officer who had shown extraordinary initiative and bravery at Brandywine in the fighting near Chads's Ford. Since there was not enough room on the riverbank for all of the guns, Downman gave Wilson permission to take his 6-pounder down to a wharf about 150 yards away at the lower end of the shipyards, ironically the same yards where the Delaware had been built earlier in the year. Under the lieutenant's direction, the crew manhandled the field gun down the hill and through a large shed covering a sawpit, then hauled it all the way to the end of the wharf, nearly fifty yards out from the shed, where a windlass mounted on a large wooden block stood at the end of the pier.

  The American flotilla approached rapidly, still silent, the suspense building by the minute. “The situation was disagreeable, for the largest ship was within 400 yards,” Downman reported, “and in another tack or two would have been alongside our guns.”85 Unaware of the general's order not to fire until fired upon, Lieutenant Wilson commanded Bombardier James Jack to open fire on the Delaware. Wilson's gun managed to get off two shots in under a minute before the lieutenant heard Downman's shouted orders to hold fire.

  Then, the Delaware opened up with its 12-pounders and hoisted a large Continental navy ensign of thirteen stripes. Bombardier Adam Fife, serving with Wilson's gun crew, testified that “the Frigate first fired one Gun & then attempted to hoist her Colours, which got foul, but upon their getting them up, the Frigate fired two or three shot together.”86 The grapefruit-size balls flew over the heads of the artillerymen in their exposed position as the lieutenant stood to the right of the gun behind the windlass, ducking as the shots whizzed by.

  A general exchange of cannon fire now erupted at a range of 400 yards and closing, the American frigates and row galleys firing 12-, 18-, and 24-pound solid shot at the British batteries and at the wharf, with an occasional 32-pounder heaved into the fray from one galley. From the shore, Downman's 12-pounders returned fire rapidly, while the Royal howitzers launched 15-pound shells that burst in the air around the ships or plunked heavily into the water. Tacking closer to the shore, the Delaware began peppering the wharf and batteries with grapeshot, hoping to silence the crews.

  Wilson suddenly realized that the field gun's ammunition box contained only a dozen rounds, so he sent Matross James Laing to get more ammunition from supply wagons that were back over the crest of the hill, some 300 yards away. A few minutes later, with Laing not returning and grapeshot showering the wharf and hillside, the lieutenant himself ran down the wharf and through the sawpit shed to order ammunition to be brought up. The British gun was left without an officer.

  The city was in an uproar. Civilians by the hundreds came streaming down to watch the battle, while others scurried for cover. “The people in General, especialy downwards, exceedingly Allarm'd,” Elizabeth Drinker wrote from her house on Front Street at the upper end of town. “Part of this scean we were spectators of, from the little Window in our loft.”87

  “There was a great many people of the Town, under the shed and round the saw pit,” Matross Laing later testified, partially explaining why it took so long to get to the ammunition.88 Wilson shouted to the crowd that he needed assistance in getting ammunition for his gun, and some of the townspeople volunteered to help. One of them, Henry Spearing, stated that “on going down to the Wharf he heard a Complaint of want of Men, upon which he offered his Services to Lieut. Wilson who accordingly employed him in Carrying both Ammunit
ion and Wads.”89

  With no officer to direct them and the action getting hotter as the Delaware came closer, Wilson's crew left the gun after firing a few more shots and ran back behind the shed. Captain Moncrieff of the Engineers testified that “upon going down to the Wharf, he found a Gun without officer or Men, & upon enquiring where they were, the people of the Town said that they had abandoned it.” Moncrieff was furious; looking around, and “finding Eight or Nine Men of the Artillery about sixty or seventy yards in the rear of the Gun, he told them to consider who they were, that the honor of their Corps was at stake, & desired that they would go down with him, which they accordingly did.”90

  The men later explained that Bombardier Jack, the senior gunner, went up to Captain Downman several times for orders after Wilson left the gun, and that they were told to bring the gun off, but did not have enough men to do so. “Capt. Moncrieffe told them to wait, and he would bring them some assistance,” Matross William Pashley stated, “and he accordingly brought some Negroes and others, with whose assistance they got the Gun up to the top of the Hill where they began to fire.”91 The crew, who evidently had a grudge against Wilson for (among other things) striking one of them earlier in the day, insinuated that the officer had shown every sign of cowardice under fire: ducking behind the windlass when the first shots were fired; laying down behind the block; running away from the gun; skulking in the sawpit; taking cover behind a tree; all the while leaving them exposed while they fired upwards of “thirty or forty rounds” at the frigate.

  Meanwhile, chaos erupted on the deck of the Delaware when the caboose, or cook house, was struck, scattering hot coals and scalding bits of iron kitchenware about, setting the ship on fire. “She was 2 or 3 times on fire owing to one of our shot having drove through her caboose, it not being easily extinguished,” Captain Montrésor observed.92 Adding to the dramatic scene, Elizabeth Drinker noted a report that “the Cook on board the Delaware, ’tis said, had his Head shot off.”93

  As the tide in the river began falling and the ship attempted to turn around by tacking, a shell from one of the Royal howitzers crashed through the foredeck and exploded near the bow, starting a fire inside the Delaware's hull. “The people were thrown into great disorder,” Downman stated. As a result, they “neglected the management of the sails, and she ran aground within 250 yards of our guns.”94

  The frigate was stranded on the lower end of Windmill Island, a long, narrow, parklike mud flat supporting a single windmill and wharf in the middle of the river opposite the shipyard. Some of the Delaware's crew continued to fire at the shore batteries for several minutes, but the battalion fieldpieces of the British grenadiers, including Wilson's gun, by now up on the riverbank, so pounded her with shot at close range that she soon struck her colors, the fires still burning.

  A boat went out to remove the crew, who “were landed near the Swedes’ Church & marched to the New Jail,” opposite the State House on Walnut Street.95 Because no artillerymen could be spared at that moment, Downman reported that “ten of the grenadiers were sent on board, and with them went Captain Moncrieffe of the Engineers, by whose activity and cleverness the fire was extinguished.”96 A handful of carpenters also went along. “Captain Moncrief and the carpenters principally on board the Frigate to extinguish the fire by cutting away parts of her side,” Chief Engineer Montrésor noted.97

  “Capt. Alexander of the Delaware frigate of 28 Guns, the Country Ship, & three gallys came up to batter the Town, provided any Works were erecting to prevent their going up & down the River (pretty Lads),” Loyalist James Parker, who witnessed the action, told his friend in Edinburgh, “but without waiting to receive their message, the Old Genl. [Cleveland] Received them so Warmly with his brass 12 pdrs. threw ’em into confusion.” Delighted, Parker watched as “Aground went the frigate, & in five minutes haul'd down the Strip[e]s.”

  Now the Royal Artillery turned its fire against the other ships, who prudently turned around and pulled back down the river after seeing the Delaware's predicament. “The rest all ran away,” Parker wrote. “Our people received no injury, two of the frigates men were killed & three Wounded.” Later in the day, the battery north of the city had its opportunity to get into the action when “The Muskito a Schooner of 8 Guns attempted [to] pass down between the Jerseys & Penrose island.” In the brief exchange of fire, Parker noted that “her fore mast was carried away by a shot, & the rebels ran her on the Jersey Shore.”98

  “Thus ended the insolent attempt of their boasting Commodore, with two frigates and five galleys, each carrying a 32 or 24 pounder, opposed by only four 12 pounders and two howitzers, three of those being drawn up on the bank without the least covering,” a triumphant Captain Downman jubilated. The Delaware was quickly repaired and put back in fighting trim, this time in His Majesty's service. “The same afternoon a number of rebel sailors entered voluntarily on board of her to fight on our side,” the artillery captain reported with astonishment, “Strange work!”99 According to Sgt. Thomas Sullivan of the 49th, the ship “was taken Possession of by the Marine Company of Grenadiers, commanded by Captain Averne.”100 A British officer remarked to friend, “you'l say, ’tis Outré for Grenadiers to Storm Frigates, but we have her, as our Grand Bulwark, until the Fleet arrives.”101

  As for Lt. George Wilson, his performance was rewarded by a court-martial six months later, when he was “accused of misbehaving himself before the Enemy by improperly quitting his Post on the 27th Sept. 1777.” The accusations of cowardice made by some of the gun crew were astounding, for Wilson demonstrated extraordinary courage under fire on several occasions before and after the battle with the Delaware. Several British officers noteworthy for their own bravery came to the lieutenant's defense, among them Lt. Col. Thomas Musgrave of the 40th; Maj. John Graves Simcoe of the Queen's Rangers; and Captain Moncrieff of the Engineers, who described Wilson as “over warm & particularly anxious.”102 Fed up with their officer's brashness and reckless, overbearing zeal, the crew testified against him, and Wilson was found “GUILTY of unofficer-like conduct in leaving his gun twice, which was not from fear or cowardice, based on the supporting testimony of his character, but was nevertheless improper.” The zealous young lieutenant was sentenced to be reprimanded at the head of the Brigade of the Royal Artillery.103

  The first American attempt to counter the British capture of Philadelphia was a flash in the pan that ended in defeat and major loss less than an hour after the drums beat “To Arms.” Rumors spread quickly that the ships had been sent to destroy the town, and Lord Cornwallis sent a letter to Commodore Hazelwood the next day, condemning the attack. “One House struck, but not much damaged,” Elizabeth Drinker reported, and “no body, that I have heard, hurt on shore.”104 But it was only the opening round of what proved to be one of the most intense, bloody, and drawn-out battles of the war, the fight for control of the Delaware River, filled with drama, pathos, heroism, and horror, yet remaining to this day little known.

  “She is an acquisition & a great security to the Town,” General Grant commented about the capture of the Delaware. His usual bluster, though, was momentarily tempered with extraordinary foresight as he wrote with some concern, “for those Rebell ships & Gallies, the Fort upon Mud Island & the Chevaux de Frize which they have sunk in the River prevent the Fleet getting up, retard our operations, obstruct our supplys & are likely to give much trouble.”105

  There was much trouble in the offing elsewhere that morning, involving a demand for a court of inquiry and the eventual court-martial of another brave and somewhat brash officer. Thirty miles away, in the Continental Army headquarters at Pennypacker's Mill106 on Perkiomen Creek, George Washington received a letter from his most active, eager, and belligerent field commander:

  I feel myself very much Injured until such time as you will be kind Enough to Indulge me with an Enquiry into my Conduct Concerning the Action of the night of the 20th Instant—

  Conscious of having done my duty I dare my Accusor's to a
fair and Candid hearing—dark Insinuations and Insidius friends I dread—but from an Open and avowed enemy I have nothing to fear.

  I have no other mode of showing them forth to Open view, but through your means, I must therefore beg an Immediate Enquiry.

  Your humble, obedt. Servant,

  Anthony Wayne107

  An explosion of sorts had occurred shortly before the letter was written when Wayne's second-in-command, Col. Richard Humpton, confronted him about what transpired in the hours before the British attack at Paoli on the night of September 20. Rumors were circulating among the Pennsylvania Line officers that their division commander had received warnings of the impending British attack but had failed to guard the camp adequately. Even more astonishing was the revelation that Colonel Humpton was unaware that any warnings had been received at all until two days after the battle, which indicated a serious breakdown of communication in the chain of command.

  After hearing the rumors and questioning some of the subordinate officers, Humpton addressed the situation with Wayne at some point on the march to rejoin the main army. Wayne had, in fact, received at least two warnings, one more than six hours beforehand from thirty-year-old Lt. Col. John Bartholomew, a dependable local militia officer and active Whig who Wayne knew personally. Humpton was incredulous; “The General had received intelligence some hours before the Attack that the Enemy intended,” the colonel stated later, indignantly adding, “as Second in Command I think the General ought to have acquainted Me with it, and given orders for the Safety & defence of the Troops.”108