Walking the Berkshires

In Which I Lose My Head Over Hallowe'en

I never do pumpkins by halves.

Who Had Greater Need of Knox's Cannons at Boston: Washington or Howe?

It must have been a relief to General Howe when Washington's army occupied the oddly undefended Dorchester Heights, threatening the city of Boston and the shipping in the harbor with the guns from Ticonderoga.  British records show that Howe and his superiors had been advocating for the evacuation of Boston for many months in favor of more significant campaign operations elsewhere:  well before Knox's  "noble train of artillery" showed up on his doorstep, in fact.  It was not their intent to remain in Boston for the next season, as his correspondence with policy makers in London the previous Autumn clearly demonstrates. In fact, had Lord Dartmouth's September 5th, 1775 orders to General Howe  not been delayed in crossing the Atlantic, the British might well have gone into winter quarters in Halifax and been long gone from Boston, obviating the need to send Knox to Ticonderoga to dislodge them.

Needless to say, this is not the version of events that Americans remember.  We can thank the likes of Sam Adams and a long line of patriotic propagandists and historians for that.  The significance of Knox's achievement in bringing the ordinance overland is unquestioningly credited both by his contemporaries and by subsequent writers as the determining factor in forcing the British to abandon Boston.  To the degree that negotiations for withdrawal followed swiftly on the heels of the fortification of Dorchester Heights, this conclusion is, at first blush, quite reasonable.  General Howe's own account of his decision, written to his superior Lord Dartmouth (who himself had been superseded by Lord Germain in the meantime), appears to lend support to the guns of Dorchester as a causal factor compelling him either to expose the army to the greatest distress or withdraw from Boston.  One wonders, however, whether the General did not find in the guns a convenient means for justifying a move he long had contemplated.

Aside from the nightmarish logistical challenges of evacuating the city and its loyal inhabitants, Howe was heavily constrained by the length of time it took to communicate with his superiors, and above all by personal and political considerations.  One could not abandoned the city with honor, no matter how prudent or compelling were other military concerns, without having endured (and preferably tried to counter) a proper siege. Until Knox arrived with the cannon, the British may have been on short rations in their winter quarters but they were hardly threatened with reduction, nor unable to leave the harbor so long as there were ships available. The occupation and fortification of Dorchester Heights was a bold stroke, but it also was the key to unlocking the British from a cage of their own making.

Howe did what was expected of him to counter this new threat.  He ordered his artillery to fire on the American position, but apparently the guns were unable to elevate sufficiently to hit the heights.  One does wonder whether there really were no mortars in the British arsenal capable of doing the job, or whether the attempt was just for form's sake. They evidently spiked and abandoned at least one 13" mortar that had been part of a bomb battery opposing Lechmere.  Maybe it was too much to ask to shift that gun to the other side of town, but the idea that the guns wouldn't elevate is clearly a poor excuse.

Michael Pearson's "Those Damned Rebels; The American Revolution as Seen Through British Eyes" describes a British council of war in the aftermath of the aborted night attack subsequently ordered by Howe against the heights:

"Lord Percy, according to engineer Archibald Robinson, advised strongly against persisting with an attack that was likely to be expensive in casualties  and could at best only result in controlling a position they were about to abandon.

'Those have been my own sentiments from the first,' said Howe with a sigh, 'but I thought the honour of the troops was concerned.'

It seemed a pretty poor reason for a possible replay of Bunker Hill, and so it evidently appeared to the men sitting at that conference table.  For the next morning the evacuation was ordered."

Pearson concludes that "Howe's heart was not in it."  This most enigmatic of British commanders during the American War of Independence has been the source of much speculation and second-guessing, and is greatly in need of a clear eyed biography.  I am not suggesting that Howe deliberately left the back door open to Boston, offering up his post to the rebels with the sort of perfidy that Arnold intended in betraying West Point.  But the honor of their commander was as much in play as the "honour of the troops."  Until the conditions for an honorable withdrawal were met, Howe tarried, filling his correspondence with complaints that the season was too advanced, or there were not enough ships to evacuate Boston as his superiors intended and he himself wished.

In this regard, Knox's accomplishment and the overnight fortification of Dorchester Heights are both worthy of American praise and of British relief, for without them, Howe would have waited until the massive reinforcements then being assembled across the Atlantic required his assistance in taking New York - as indeed they did during the coming campaign.  In saving face, General Howe gave a boost to patriot arms that they were not to enjoy again until he had swept them from New York and across the Delaware and the Hessians settled into their briefly occupied winter quarters at Trenton.

"Henry, Get Your Guns": Whose Idea Was it to Go to Ticonderoga?

Henry Knox is best remembered as the man who dragged a "noble train of artillery" through the frozen wilderness from Fort Ticonderoga to Boston, compelling the British to evacuate the City.  It is one of the great epic stories of our nation's founding, ranking for sheer audacity alongside the capture of the Hessian garrison at Trenton (in which Knox and his cannons played a significant part) and Benedict Arnold's expedition through the wilds of Maine to assault Quebec. 

There is no question that coordinating the successful transport of all that heavy ordinance in the dead of winter was quite an accomplishment, and is testimony to Knox's considerable organizational skills and unflagging spirit.  Nevertheless, whatever evidence exists in the historic record does not always accord with the way the story has come down to us, and indeed I have come to question some of our long standing assumptions about Knox's expedition and its significance.

The idea to retrieve the cannons from Fort Ticonderoga is roundly regarded as a bold and brilliant stroke. Historians routinely credit Knox with making the suggestion to Washington, but there is contradictory evidence in Washington's own correspondence that shows he had previously dispatched an aide-de-camp with instructions to forward the much needed ordinance to Boston.  That gentleman was Col. Joseph Reed, later the Governor of Pennsylvania.  In a letter of November 16th, 1775, Washington writes to the New York Legislature:

Sir: It was determined at a Conference held here in the last Month, that such Military Stores as could be spared from New York, Crown Point, Ticonderoga &c., should be sent here for the use of the Continental Army. As it was not clear to me, whether I was to send for or that they were to be sent to me, I desired Mr. Reed on his way to Philadelphia, to enquire into this matter; as I have not heard from him on the subject, and the Season advancing fast, I have thought it necessary to send Hen: Knox Esqr who will deliver you this. After he forwards what he can get at your Place, he will proceed to Genl Schuyler, on this very important business.

    I request the favor of you Sir, and the Gentlemen of your Congress, to give Mr. Knox all the assistance in your power, by so doing you will render infinite service to your Country and vastly oblige Sir, etc.

From this it is clear that Washington had determined the need for supplies from both New York and the captured northern forts some time before he sent Knox to follow up.  What he meant by "military stores" is clear from a letter drafted the same day to Maj. General Philip Schuyler; stating: " I am in very great Want of Powder, Lead, Morters, Cannon, indeed of most Sorts of military Stores.  For Want of them we really cannot carry on any spirited Operation."  In fact, as yet another letter makes clear, Washington had been looking for supplies of this sort, particularly lead, from Albany as far back as that August.

The fact is, General Washington was leaving no stone unturned in his search for military supplies, and while no one in Cambridge knew precisely what ordinance and war material was to be had from Ticonderoga and Crown Point, they certainly had not been forgotten since their capture that Spring.

Joseph Reed left Cambridge October 29th, so Washington had not been waiting very long for word about the supplies he was so impatient to secure.  Nonetheless, it does not appear that Col. Reed had been able to give it much attention as he was passing through New York, nor that the New York authorities were overly motivated to make the effort to give up what they had on hand.  Sending Knox there for the express purpose of forwarding military stores was a sound decision and, as it turns out, an excellent choice by Washington. 

Knox was still a civilian volunteer at this time - "a Gentleman of Worcester" - although he had been recommended by Washington for a Colonelcy (and his commission was waiting for him when he returned to Boston).  He had impressed Washington with his well laid siege works at Roxbury, and the Boston bookseller's considerable knowledge of artillery and engineering which he had gained largely from reading books. 

But was the idea to gain the cannon from Ticonderoga his as well, or should he instead be remembered for his execution of the plan rather than its instigation?

The answer to that may lie in Washington's allusion in his letter to the New York Legislature to a "Conference held here last month".   Washington did indeed hold a conference with his general officers on October 8th, at which time he put a number of questions to them regarding the organization and supply of the Continental Army.   Henry Knox, as a civilian volunteer, would not have been obligated to attend, nor is it clear that he would have been at liberty to do so.  A subsequent commission which met in Cambridge from Oct 18th-22nd included members of Congress and notables from several states, but not Knox. A unanimous decision of the Generals at the October 8th conference, however, was to replace the current commander of the Artillery, and on November 8th Washington would "recommend Henry Knox, Esqr, to the consideration of Congress" for that position.  Whether or not Knox ventured the idea unofficially is interesting to speculate, but Washington's correspondence makes no mention of it and it may well be an assumption of his later biographers who took it on faith that the volunteer Mr. Henry Knox "volunteered".

Washington's orders to Knox on November 16th make it clear that his great contribution to this effort would be to do for the authorities in New York what they were unable to do for themselves in forwarding ordinance, and scarce war supplies such as gun flints, to Cambridge:

INSTRUCTIONS TO HENRY KNOX Head Quarters, Cambridge,

November 16, 1775.

    You are immediately to examine into the State of the Artillery of this Army, and take an account of the Cannon, Motors, Shells, Lead and Ammunition, that are wanting. When you have done that, you are to proceed in the most expeditious Manner to New York; there apply to the President of the provisional Congress, and learn of him whether Colonel Reed did any Thing, or left any Orders respecting these Articles, and get him to procure such of them as can possibly be had there. The President, if he can, will have them immediately sent hither: If he cannot you must put them in a proper Channel for being transported to this Camp with Dispatch, before you leave New York. After you have procured as many of these Necessaries as you can there, you must go to Major General Schuyler, and get the Remainder from Ticonderoga, Crown Point, or St John's. If it should be necessary, from Quebec; if in our Hands. The Want of them is so great, that no Trouble or Expence must be spared to obtain them. I have wrote to General Schuyler, he will give every necessary assistance that they may be had and forwarded to this Place, with the utmost Dispatch. I have given you a Warrant to the Pay-Master General of the Continental Army, for a Thousand Dollars to defray the Expence attending your Journey, and procuring these Articles; an Account of which you are to keep and render upon your Return. Endeavour to procure what Flints you can.

There can be no doubt that Henry Knox possessed "an enterprising and fertile mind", as one biographer puts it who had access to the vast bulk of Knox's surviving papers.  I have yet to find first hand evidence, however, that he deserves the credit for conceiving as well as successfully executing the task of retrieving the guns, and regrettably that same biographer offers no citation for the assertion that he did.

So, as is often the case with historical inquiry, I do not know for certain whether Henry Knox had this bold and brilliant idea, but I have reason to be skeptical.  Although I lack many of the resources of those professional historians and biographers whose work precedes my impertinent question, the ability to tap online databases such as Washington's papers and even Google Books opens new lines of inquiry.  And this is not the only question I have about the Knox Expedition and its place in history.  I'll lob another little mortar shell in a subsequent post.

Locally Grown History Weekend

Lightning struck twice for me in October, as Facebook's personal marketing profile proved to be well calibrated to my interests, at least where local events are concerned.  Facebook's sidebar suggestion that I experience the new Walkway Over the Hudson sent me and my children on a grand adventure a week ago.  Then last Friday it picked up on my Revolutionary War interest and clued me in to a pair of terrific events in Torrington, not to mention a whole local history initiative in Western CT about which I had previously been unaware.  Score one for social media: it is still a long way from a decent batting average, but a nice example of what is possible.

Locally Grown History is aspparently in its second year, and an effort to showcase the extraordinary opportunities in our region to experience its history and cultural heritage and integrate these resources with what our children learn in schools, as well as what the public in general knows about our past.  Sponsored by the University of Connecticut in collaboration numerous groups and agencies, including the Upper Housatonic Valley National Heritage Corridor, it is a wonderful local resource.  It seems to be doing for our heritage of regional history the same sort of thing that the Litchfield Hills Greenprint Collaborative that I direct is striving to achieve for regional conservation by aggregating the resources and talents of local conservation groups in the service of important land protection efforts.  I would commend any effort out of hand that tackled this objective for our history, but in addition to that the organizers of last weeks events produced a high quality forum on the Revolutionary History of Connecticut that was most welcome and very well received.

It began on Friday evening at UNCONN's Torrington campus (immediately after a Civil War Sesquicentennial event at the site of John Brown's birthplace) with a screening of Mary Silliman's War.  The movie was presented by historian Richard Buel, who produced the film and was the co-author of the book The Way of Duty on which it is based.  The opportunity to see this film was very timely for me, as that very day I noted that J.L. Bell at Boston 1775 discussed the paucity of historically accurate, watchable films about the American Revolution.  I can now confidently add Mary Silliman's War to that impoverished list.

This movie was not a big budget Hollywood film - and regrettably it will set you back $75 to purchase a DVD from the distributor - but they did wonders with the resources they had.   The acting, particularly by Nancy Palk in the title role, is quite compelling.  From an historiographical perspective it belongs in the a progressive tradition, viewing the war as a socially disruptive civil conflict on a human scale, more in keeping with My Brother Sam is Dead than Johnny Tremain.  Professor Buel shared his thoughts on the compromises that are made translating a book to film and conveying complex events and ideas in visually compelling ways. In one interesting aside, he mentioned that the officer leading the reenactors who represented the royalist forces who burned Fairfield objected to one scene of sexual violence saying; "The British did not rape", demonstrating a blind spot that is not borne out by any serious study of the subject and the historic record.  I've been reading Sharon Block's Rape & Sexual Power in Early America, so I feel fairly current in this regard.

I found it particularly well done regarding the values, attitudes and expectations (changing and immutable) that the characters had of themselves and for each other.  The film displays the Silliman household, with its children, servants and slaves, in a way that does not trivialize or over exploit power relationship and the effects on the family of the loss of the patriarch.  As an aside, my ancestor Ebenezer Olmsted of Ridgefield, CT fought in Silliman's regiment From June-December, 1776, and both of them were present at the Battle of Ridgefield during Tryon's Danbury Raid the following year.

It was a terrific set up for Sunday afternoon's Revolutionary War forum.  The keynote address was by Professor Robert Gross, author of The Minutemen and their World.  He spoke of  his experience of the marvelous diorama at Minuteman National Park of the fight at Concord Bridge that prompted his book.  As he gazed at the little figures, frozen under glass, he was struck at how this depiction of a highly symbolic moment in time placed both the event itself and the people of Concord out of context.  His subsequent research revealed that militant patriotism only took hold in Concord in 1774 with the revocation of the colonial charter, and it was this event, rather than taxes and tea, that threatened the local institutions that were already fraying in Concord.

There were a number of workshops offered following this address.  I participated in two: 

• Revolutionary Archaeology in Connecticut:  Dr. Nicolas Bellantoni, Connecticut State Archaeologist

• Children and the Revolution through Literature: Prof. Christopher Collier, University of Connecticut, former Connecticut State Historian and co-author of the Newberry award-winning My Brother Sam is Dead and other historical novels for young adults.

Each presenter had a unique style - Bellantoni's clear enthusiasm for his subject and Collier's thoughtful pedagogical engagement with each of the participants - and I learned new things from each.  I will be sure to follow the Rochambeau Trail through Connecticut and revisit Collier's novels at my earliest opportunity.  As I myself am writing a novel based in the Revolutionary era - albeit a counterfactual one - I was keenly interested in Collier's thoughts on how to stay true to the values and attitudes of his characters and their time while making them empathetic and approachable to modern readers.  He very kindly provided us with a number of free copies of the teaching aid he wrote for his historical novels for young adults entitled My Brother Sam and All That and there is much there about writing historical fiction as well as using it in the classroom that I am enjoying thinking about.

The last session was a round table of the topic of Religion and the Republic: Approaching a Central Theme in Connecticut History.  In keeping with the spirit of Locally Grown History, this was a collaborative effort, expertly woven together by Professor Andrew Walsh of Trinity College.  I have come to believe that the first Great Awakening, as much as any other causal factor of the Revolution, played a pervasive and dominant role in determining loyalties within communities and the direction of social, and therefore political life.  In an increasingly secular society, where we are either too partisan, polite, or politically constrained to thoughtfully discuss the history of religion in America and its influence on the growth and development of our Republic.  This is an area of study to which I need to give more thought.

I felt the afternoon, despite the dreary wintry mix outside, was a grand success, and look forward to becoming moire involved in future  Locally Grown History events.  This collaboration is a true regional asset.

Spadework: The Custer Fight Reconsidered

As we discussed in yesterday's post, Richard A. Fox  uses battlefield archaeology as the basis for reinterpreting historic accounts and long held assumptions about what happened to George Custer and his men at Little Bighorn.  Fox describes how Custer's 5 company battalion actually appears to have deployed in two wings that only remained together for a very brief period.  Company L deployed in a dismounted skirmish line with Companies C and I in reserve.  Together, these companies formed the Right Wing.   Companies E and F and the headquarters staff (the Left Wing) rode further north, well beyond the national monument boundaries and down toward the river and a ford that crossed above the Indian village.  Then the Left Wing seems to have moved back to higher ground in the vicinity of the national cemetery at the site today and waited while engaging at long range with Indians further down below.

Fox describes these movements as supporting a downstream reconnaissance by the Left Wing while waiting for expected reinforcements.  He describes how Custer's famous written order to Captain Benteen to come quick and bring packs was not a plea to avert disaster and replenish exhausted ammunition, but a desire for reinforcements both from Benteen's 3 companies and the pack train that would have enabled Custer to launch an attack on fleeing villagers north of the village.  Fox provides the further information that Custer's brother Boston (along with his cousin Autie Reed), both initially with the pack train, had ridden ahead to join him after his first message to move up, and encountered his second messenger on the way.  They would have reached Custer before the Left Wing had moved ahead of the Right or shortly thereafter, and so Fox believes Custer had excellent reason to expect reinforcements to arrive shortly.  The bodies of Boston Custer and Autie Reed were eventually found near George Custer and his brother, Captain Tom Custer.

The inference is that Benteen's failure to arrive in support was still a factor in the massacre (he was ordered by Major Reno to support his detachment after its aborted attack on the village from the south), for Custer's two widely separated wings appear to have held their ground for a considerable period during which there was not heavy fighting and Fox concludes they were waiting for Benteen.  They appear to have delayed too long, and were overtaken by rapidly changing events on the battlefield..

The Indian positions revealed by archaeology indicate that up until this point, they delivered low levels of fire with a variety of weapons - including numerous repeating rifles - and undertook a period of gradual infiltration using the terrain as cover until they were able to bring considerable firepower to bear.  The right wing commander appears to have directed C company to charge one of these Indian strong points, but the the move was checked and then thrown back in disorder.  L company shifted its skirmish line to support C company's retreat, and this eased pressure on the Indians to the south who pushed forward. Crazy Horse and his followers, having passed unseen between the two wings, struck from the northeast. At this point, the situation rapidly collapsed from units displaying tactical integrity to fear and disintegration.

Only 15-20 men from Right Wing companies were able to reach the Left Wing, which may have shifted its position to what is know known as Custer Hill to intercept the fugitives.  Pressure increased on the dismounted (and soon to be completely horseless) E company, which ended up making a very brief stand with F Company at its back before rushing back downhill, perhaps initially to force a breakout, but in a move that quickly turned to disaster.  A handful of fugitives, from the remaining defenders on the hill fled after them as they too were overwhelmed, and the fight ended.

In many parts of the battlefield, there are far fewer remains of soldier cartridges than can be explained by battlefield collection, and a number of eyewitness accounts after the battle remarked on the small numbers of shell casings.  Fox makes a convincing argument that except for the L company skirmish line, in many sectors Custer's men gave relatively little resistance.  He found very little evidence that the cartridges in the soldier's single shot carbines jammed, nor does the archaeological record and a number of historic accounts indicate that they ran out of ammunition.  It was possible using forensic ballistics technology to trace the movement of individual firearms, both Indian and soldier weapons, between sectors of the battle, indicating a flow from south to north. 

Much of the killing was done close in without firearms and where soldier carbines in particular would have been ineffective.  The so-called South Skirmish Line where most of E company fell is revealed by Fox to be a place where soldiers moved quickly and did very little firing, dying as they ran.  The clusters of men found around Captain Keogh, the Ring Wing Commander, and Colonel Custer are not in any sort of tactical formation, but indicate the bunching that combat behavior modeling documents can happen when frightened men come under heavy pressure and they cling to a strong point.  The fighting was apparently brief in these places where men fell bunched together, rather than evidence of a prolonged stand.

While reading Fox's account, I kept thinking about two other books I have read that tried to reconstruct what happened after notorious wildfires overwhelmed crack firefighting crews at Mann Gulch in 1949 and the South Canyon Fire in 1994.  Aside from the forensic nature of these accounts, there are many parallels between the behavior of troops trying to escape a converging enemy and how firefighters were overtaken by a pursuing wall of fire.  The movement from tactical integrity to disintegration happened in both of these cases when firefighters, moving in line up a ridge ahead of a progressively dangerous and much faster fire, abandoned their tools and tried to crest the ridge ahead of the flames.  Moving in a group is slower than moving as individuals, even though there is a perception of security and even strong bonds with the group.  Many bodies of fallen firefighters were found bunched together in the burned over areas, while a few strong individuals ran ahead and either escaped or nearly outpaced the flames.  The line of bodies that extended north from the Right Wing toward the perceived safety of the Left at Little Bighorn appears to have this in common with the wildfire blowup incidents.

Fox makes it clear that by describing the Little Bighorn fight as something quite different from conventional heroic, last stand terms, the soldiers who experienced tactical disintegration with Custer should not be thought of as cowards.  No more, I would add, than the firefighters who tried to escape the flames.  There are many factors that combined to create this situation, not only with the Right Wing but also the Left, and as you might imagine Fox offers a very controversial reinterpretation. 

I would invite anyone with an interest in the subject of battlefield archaeology in general and the Little Bighorn in particular to read his book and see what you make of the evidence and alternative hypothesis it presents to explain what may have happened to Custer and his men.  Now I look forward to reading a subsequent study, jointly authored by Douglas D. Scott; Richard A. Fox; Mellisa A. Connor and Dick Harmon, entitled Archaeological Perspectives on the Battle of Little Bighorn (2000), to see what ongoing spadework and scholarship have revealed.

 

The Custer Myth and Battlefield Evidence

Back in the mid 1970s, when I was in 2nd and 3rd grades, my parents bought me a subscription to Time / Life Books Old West series.  Once a month, a new volume would arrive with its stamped, leatherette binding and  richly illustrated with historic images and artifacts.  Each book in the series covered a different topic, ranging from the legendary - The Gunfighters - to the esoteric - The Expressmen - , and many are still satisfying reads today with a wonderful level of historic detail.

Written for the general public - although perhaps not with precocious 8-year-old readers specifically in mind - The Old West series was my first introduction to the Custer fight at Little Bighorn.  The final chapter of the book on The Soldiers is devoted to Custer, and other volumes approach the events from the perspectives of Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull.  There is an especially fascinating series of pages in The Soldiers devoted to "Last Stand" artwork from the late 19th century that brings the Custer myth - if not the reality of the fight itself - vividly to life,

People have been fighting over the Battle of Little Bighorn ever since the last gun was silenced, and since

the only survivor from Custer's 5 company battalion after the fight began in earnest was a horse, there has been plenty of room for conjecture and partisanship.  The Indians had their recollections, too, though as evidence of what happened these present a number of challenges on their own, including the fact that some eye-witness testimony was given in sign language in answer to white questions.

Regardless of where the blame may lie for the massacre - and there is no end of controversy over where that belongs - the traditional interpretation of what happened after Custer divided his command is that after ending Maj. Marcus Reno with three companies to charge the Indian village from the south Custer continued north along the high ground east of the river.  After Reno's attack stalled and eventually withdrew in disorder back across the river,  Custer and his five remaining companies were forced to occupy defensive positions in the face of overwhelming numbers of well armed Indians, and fought as a unified command practically to the last bullet.  Survivors from other parts of the battlefield and from another column of soldiers that arrived in the days that followed buried the men where they fell, and some saw what looked to them like evidence of skirmish lines across a wide defensive area.  Reno's men may have broken, but not Custer's, who in the best western tradition are usually said to have gone down fighting.

Had the Time Life series been written a decade later, a very different story might have been told about what happened to Custer.  In 1983, a range fire burned across the national monument at Little Bighorn and the park superintendent recognized an opportunity for battlefield archaeology to examine the exposed terrain for artifacts that might shed new light on the Custer fight.  I have just finished reading one of the products of that research - Richard A Fox's (1993) Archaeology, History and Custer's Last Battle: The Little Bighorn Reexamined.  An expansion of his Ph.D thesis based on two years of fieldwork and a fresh examination of historic accounts informed by new archaeological data and combat modeling, Fox presents an alternative explanation of the Custer fight that turns many long held assumptions on their heads.  Despite the academic structure of the text, I found it absolutely fascinating.  We will look into this further in a subsequent post.

Counterfactual Founder

John Dickinson had this to say to his colleagues in the 2nd Continental Congress as they debated Independence on the first of June, 1776:

"...Suppose on this Event Great Britain should offer Canada to France & Florida to Spain with an Extension of the old Limits. Would not France & Spain accept them? Gentlemen say the Trade of all America is more valuable to France than Canada. I grant it; but suppose She may get both? If she is politick, & none doubts that, I aver She has the easiest Game to play for attaining both, that ever presented itself to a Nation.

When We have bound ourselves to a stern Quarrel with Great Britain by a Declaration of Independence, France has nothing to do but to hold back & intimidate Great Britain till Canada is put into her Hands, then to intimidate Us into a most disadvantageous Grant of our Trade. It is my firm Opinion these Events will take Place, & arise naturally from our declaring Independence...

...Suppose we shall ruin [Great Britain]. France must rise on her Ruins. Her Ambition. Her Religion. Our Dangers from thence.  We shall weep at our misfortune brought on by our rashness...

...The War will be carried on with more Severity. The Burning of Towns, the Setting Loose of Indians on our Frontiers, has Not yet been done. Boston might have been burnt though it was not...

...A PARTITION of these Colonies will take Place if Great Britain cant conquer Us. To escape from the protection we have in British rule by declaring independence would be like Destroying a House before We have got another, In Winter, with a small Family; Then asking a Neighbour to take Us in and finding He is unprepared..."

Dickinson, once among the most vocal champions of American rights, fell from the pantheon of the Founders when he argued against declaring Independence and predicted the outcomes described above as its likely result.  Though history ultimately took a different course, Dickinson was not so far off base in his predictions as hindsight makes him seem.  My manuscript counterfactual novel of the Revolution reaches some of the same conclusions, which I fear vindicates my assumptions rather than his own.  But then, that is the advantage of being the one who rewrites history.

Dickinson, unable in good conscience to sign the Declaration, later served as a private soldier at Brandywine and was back in Congress and supportive of the Independence struggle the following year.  Aside from his namesake college, when he is remembered today is is generally as a foil for John Adams and those who ultimately persuaded the delegations from each of the colonies not to block Independence.

Who Killed Mrs. Caldwell? (Knyphausen's Raid Part VII)

This is the latest installment in a series of posts I began more than a year ago on Knyphausen's Raid into New Jersey in 1780. 

The American Revolution was fought as often with the pen as with the sword.  Sometimes what was written was quite literally worth battalions to the Patriot cause.  Thomas Paine's American Crisis stiffened revolutionary resolve in the face of a series of military reverses in 1776.  The murder of Jenny McCrea by two of Burgoyne's native allies the following year brought out the militia in unprecedented numbers to confront the British at Saratoga.  It did not matter that the unfortunate Miss McRea was the fiancee of a loyalist officer;  what was done to her could have been done to any American woman and that was good enough for the patriot press and its readership.

Another incident occurred in 1780 that became as notorious in patriot memory as the death of McCrea.  This tragedy, occurring on June 7th at Connecticut Farms (now Union), New Jersey during Knyphausen's Raid, was kept alive for many months afterward in the press as a symbol of royalist barbarity, Once again, an American woman was killed, but this time she was not only a staunch patriot but also the minister's wife.  Her name was Hannah (Ogden) Caldwell - a very distant relative of mine - and responsibility for her death was laid squarely on the British.  It is not altogether clear that this was the case, but there was little doubt in the minds of the revolutionaries at the time - or indeed of their descendants and subsequent chroniclers - that she was deliberately and foully murdered by the royalist invaders.

The seal of Union County, New Jersey depicts the traditional version of her death at the hands of a red-coated soldier.   It is notoriously difficult to separate fact from fiction in the fog of war, and especially complicated with this conflict, when what was recorded - and by whom - may be just as significant as the gaps in the historic record (and there are many).

Hannah (Ogden) Caldwell was third cousin to my ancestor Aaron Ogden and his brother Matthias, both of whom fought at Connecticut Farms on the day she was killed.  She was the wife of James Caldwell, the Presbyterian minister in Elizabeth Town. Reverend Caldwell was chaplain in my ancestor Elias Dayton's Third New Jersey Continental Regiment in its 1st establishment,  and subsequently served as a Deputy Quartermaster General. 

We tend to overlook that the Revolution was in many ways a religious war as well as a civil one. The evangelical "Great Awakening" of the previous generation challenged traditional church hierarchies and helped establish the underpinning of many of the democratic principles of the Revolution.  The Congregationalists of New England, the Presbyterians of the Middle Colonies and the Methodists and Baptists of the Tidewater and back county were particularly affected by this revival and many of their congregations strongly supported the patriot cause.  George III, on the other hand, was the "Defender of the Faith" for the Episcopal church, while the Dutch Reformed church split into factions in reaction to the Great Awakening that foreshadowed where the loyalties of their parishioners would lie in the Revolution.

The foremost patriots in Elizabeth Town, and hence in New Jersey, were members of Reverend Caldwell's Congregation.  His parish house was burned by Tory raiders.  In January, 1780, the church was burned as well by a raiding party from loyalist Staten Island guided by fellow townsman Cornelius Hatfield, whose own father was a noted parishoner.Caldwell subsequently moved his family to Connecticut Farms, a settlement 4 miles outside the town center, and continued his ministry while also helping to acquire supplies for Washington's encampment in the Highlands at Morristown. There are accounts that he preached with loaded pistols before him, and with good reason.  One of the loyalists who burned the church in Elizabeth Town later expressed his regret that "the black-coated rebel, Caldwell, was not then in his pulpit."

As a prominent patriot, Reverend Caldwell was certainly a ripe target for kidnapping, if not worse, by loyalist 'refugees".  But even he considered his family safe from deliberate attack.  As it turned out, they were in great peril at Connecticut Farms, but whether from a stray bullet or intentional murder is an open question.

On the morning of Knyphausen's initial advance on Connecticut Farms, Hannah Caldwell was at home with several of her youngest children, an unrelated girl named Abigail Lennington who may have been a housemaid, and a nurse named Constance Benward.  Her other children had been bundled off in a commissary wagon and her husband had encouraged her to follow, but she insisted that she would stay to protect their property.  It was her misfortune that the battle developed near her home and the patriot defenders held off the royalists for several hours before they were pushed back through the little village.  She had lowered some of her valuables down the well and filled her pockets with other precious items, then sat on her bed near the window to wait out the battle, saying "Don't worry, baby will be our protection.  They will respect a mother."

At some time during the ebb and flow of the battle that day, someone shot Mrs. Caldwell.   Abigail Lennington and one of the servants subsequently gave testimony before a magistrate as to what occurred.  Numerous histories have referenced that testimony, although I have not yet had the opportunity to go to the source.  According to these accounts, Lennington was near the window when she saw a soldier come toward the house, raise his rifle, and fire through the window.  Two balls struck Mrs. Caldwell in the breast, killing her instantly, while broken glass cut Abigail's face.  Sometimes in these histories the soldier is described as "a shot squatty soldier in a red coat."  

Reportedly the British entered the house and rifled the clothes of the dead woman to get at her valuables.  The body was removed while the house was plundered and then most of the buildings in Connecticut Farms were burned (the parsonage among them, despite this account to the contrary).  It is difficult to know precisely what happened from contemporary writing filled with hyperbole.  There was such outrage, in fact, that the royalists in New York felt obliged to file their own accounts in rebuttal.  Rivington's Royal Gazette ran one such refutation by an anonymous British officer:

"Whilst the troops were advancing to Connecticut Farms, the rebels fired out of the houses, agreeable to their usual practice, from which circumstance, Mrs. Caldwell had the misfortune to be shot my a random ball.  What heightened the singularity of this unhappy Lady's fate, is, that upon Enquiry it appears, beyond a Doubt, that the shot was fired by the rebels themselves, as it entered the side of the House from their direction, and lodged in the Wall nearest the Troops then advancing."

This source is hardly less biased than the patriot press, and one wonders whether there was time enough between the killing and the burning of the Town upon the British withdrawal to go inspecting the wall for errant musketballs that may or may not have passed through the breast of Mrs. Caldwell.  Some accounts claim her body was left half exposed in the streets for several hours, while others claim a British officer covered it with his cloak and had it removed to another house.

The argument over what happened to Mrs Caldwell raged long after the smoke had cleared from the burning village. More than anything else, her death inflamed the revolutionary arbor of the defenders of New Jersey, who readily believed her killing was intentional.

Ebenezer Foster, a loyalist and former colonial Justice of the Peace, wrote his own account of the Caldwell murder for publication. We will discuss its merits in a subsequent post.

"Miranda" Unwrapped

Emily received an extraordinary quilt from her grandmother on her 9th birthday yesterday.  Mom is a gifted fabric artist, and her creations never fail to amaze.  Her incredible work has been well received at national juried quilt exhibitions, such as last year's Lowell Quilt Festival where her "Praise for the Morning" took third place in the small, non traditional category.

She is also exceptionally generous about passing her quilts along to those family members and close friends who would take the most delight in them.

Mom usually works from patterns of her own design and ideas that she has developed in her mind's eye. This is a small quilt which she completely as part of a master class taught by Christine Fries-Ureel, who made the pattern and showed Mom how to make the swirling fabric of the dress and stitch the windswept hair.  The quilt is called "Miranda", and is based on a Pre-Raphaelite painting by John William Waterhouse of Shakespeare's Tempest.  The sea foam is made from strands of sheep's wool, and the dress has unusual depth and three-dimensionality.

Mom excels at making "picture quilts, and as she was acquiring new skills in this class she had in mind her grand-daughter and her love of theater, faeries and myths.  "Miranda" has a proud place in a shaded corner of Emily's room, paired on the adjoining wall with the gorgeous, traditional mariner's star quilt her Gramma gave her on the year of her birth.  Boundless love radiates from every careful stitch and splash of color.

George Washington Catfight Cover Up; "Your Memory Must Be Very Perfidious."

"I will not be so impolite as to charge you with telling fals[e]hoods" wrote Caty Greene to her one-time friend Deborah Olney, "but your memory must be very perfidious." The incident referred to in this delicious 18th-century putdown took place at a dinner in which George Washington was guest of honor and was at the center of an imbroglio that began with a bit of larking about after too much drink and ended in a spoiled evening and the whiff of scandal.

Early biographies of George Washington tend toward hagiography, and the general's "family" or inner circle of staff officers zealously guarded his reputation against critics and conspirators during the darkest days of the Revolution.  And scandals there were, though as far as can be determined from the historic record these contretemps were mild by modern standards and his conduct was by no means ungentlemanly.

Washington was exceedingly fond of dancing, and there were numerous balls hosted during winter encampments for his officers, their wives and even a number of young ladies from further afield.  Nothing worse can be said of these affairs then they went on at great length, and at one in particular the General danced for three straight hours with a single partner: the vivacious Caty Greene, wife of General Greene.

Catherine "Caty" Littleton Greene was one of the most intriguing women of the Revolutionary era.  It was she who, later in life, hosted Eli Whitney at her Georgia plantation, during which he came up with his design for the Cotton Gin.  General and Mrs. Greene, though, were Rhode Islanders, and Caty Greene accompanied her husband on many of his campaigns and was known for her lively mind and temperament.

During the winter encampment at Morristown in 1779-1780 - the most extreme winter of the century and one of greater hardship for the Continental Army than even Valley Forge -  the Greenes and a number of other officers including their commander in chief were dinner guests of Colonel Clement Biddle,  a deputy quartermaster general serving under Greene. Also in attendance were George and Deborah Olney: fellow, well-connected Rhode Islanders and related to Nathaniel Greene.  George Olney, a civilian auditor hired by Greene's quartermaster department, is described rather uncharitably in one history as a "frail, susceptible youngster who could not hold his liquor well."  Whether or not he was a teetotaler, he apparently was not willing to drink the many droughts that customarily were downed in the officers mess, and when the ladies excused themselves after dinner and the men we preparing to drink in earnest, Olney joined his wife and the others.

Accounts of the incident differ at this point.  At the very least, the remaining men were in high spirits and considered his desertion of their revels something that must be rectified by a sortie which Washington himself agreed to lead.  According to a letter written at the request of Mr. Olney in defense of his wife's subsequent conduct, Washington's aide Tench Tilghman described the affair as nothing more than a light-hearted joke, in which it was "resolved that a party should be sent to demand him, and if the ladies refused to give him up, he should be brought by force."  Tilghman's letter, excerpted in Irving's life of Washington, went on to describe how an "attempt was made to rescue him.  The ladies came to the rescue.  There was a melee; in the course of which his Excellency seems to have had a passage of arms with Mrs. Olney.  The ladies were victorious, as they always ought to be..."  He assured Mr. Olney that his wife had made use of no expressions unbecoming of a lady of her breeding, nor had she given the slightest offense to the General.

The reason this letter needed to be written at all is that something altogether less amusing seems to have developed as this grand joke devolved into an unseemly altercation featuring first Deborah Olney and then Caty Greene.  Caty Greene's version of the events was rather injudiciously committed to paper in a letter to a mutual acquaintance of hers and Deborah Olneys.  Mrs. Greene stated that the General placed his hand on Deborah Olney's hand during the attempt to return her husband to the bosom of masculine company, and she responded in a rage, screaming that if he did not unhand her she would tear every hair from his head, and "though he was a general, he was but a man."

This is hardly conduct becoming a lady and rather marred the evening.  Caty Greene by her own admission rose to Washington's defense with an unbecoming temper, while her husband escorted the Olney's from the room and gave some pointed advice to his kinsman and subordinate regarding a situation that appeared needlessly to have gotten out of hand because he did not employ a more diplomatic means of refusing to drink with the General. 

This might have been the end of it, but word got out that something scandalous had happened and that Mrs. Olney had been the cause of it.  Whether or not she had intended her letter recounting Deborah Olney's outburst at the General to be kept in confidence, she must have known that their common friend would relay her words to Mrs. Olney, as indeed they were.  The Olneys found themselves snubbed by Providence society, and in March of 1781 each responded to repair their damaged reputations.  George Greene solicited the letter in their defense from Washington's aide Tench Tilghman, and right on its heels Deborah wrote a letter to Mrs. Greene that the latter characterized in her reply "as unbecoming as my temper was at Col. Biddle's."  She continued;

"I thought for some time the letter had been forged as I could have no idea of such a one from a lady of such good breeding.  Surely it is not the same Mrs. Olney that I used to know and love...As to your tearing out the Genls Eyes I heard nor said nothing...but you did say you would tear our his [hair] -and I can bring sworn evidence to the truth of it."

It is a classic example of the Hell that hath no fury like an 18th century gentlewoman with her back up, and closes with the conventional yet oddly out of place wishes for the felicity of the recipient of this scathing rebuke from her self professed "sincear (sp) friend and very Humble servant."  There follows, however, this coda, which caused no little alarm among the Olneys:

"I understand that Mr. Olney has said something of me which I am sure he would not have said had Genl Greene been at home and which I shall not mention to him until I hear again from Providence."  Deborah Olney's reply included her assertion on behalf of her husband that as Mrs. Greene "must have heard something he never did say he wishes to know what you have been told, and pawns his honor, if true, to own it."  Caty Greene never did give her adversaries the satisfaction of further details.

George Washington remained a friend and ally of Caty Greene for the rest of his life, while the George and Deborah Olney were never again in his orbit.  It seemed that whatever the cause of their affronts, they were out of their depth and outclassed by Washington's partizans, be they suble in the niceties of downplaying scandal like Tilghman, or a spitfire of sharp worded indigation like the fiesty wife of General Greene.  In any even, the official version made its way into the history books, but another take on the evenings misadventures resides in the correspondence between Deborah Olney and Caty Greene.