THE life of this patriot and hero has been portrayed by the able and impartial hand of the late General David Humphreys, and a brief sketch, chiefly from that work, must suffice for the present purpose. General Putnam was born at Salem, Massachusetts, on the 7th day of January, 1718. He was indebted to nature, more than education, for a vigorous constitution, for mental endowments, and for that undaunted courage and active enterprise which were his prominent characteristics. Much confidence was reposed in his military prowess and judgment, and he was remarkable for a faithful perseverance in all the duties of his station, and for the most undeviating principles of honor, humanity and benevolence. In the year 1739, be removed to Pomfret, in Connecticut, where he applied himself to the art of agriculture. His biographer, as a display of character in early life, has recorded an instance of his bold attack of a wolf while in her den; but as the story has been frequently promulgated, it need not be repeated in this place. When in the year 1755, the war between England and France broke out in America, Putnam was appointed to the command of a company of rangers, and was distinguished for his active services as a partizan officer. In 1757, he was promoted to a majority, and being in a warm and close engagement with a party of French and savages, be had discharged his fuzee several times, when at length it missed fire while the muzzle was pressed against the breast of a large and well-proportioned Indian. This adversary, with a tremendous war-whoop, sprang forward with his lifted hatchet, and compelled him to surrender; and having bound him fast to a tree returned to the battle. For a considerable time the tree to which Major Putnam was tied was directly between the fires of the two parties, than which no conceivable situation could be more deplorable. The balls flew incessantly from each side, many struck the tree, while some passed through the sleeves and skirts of his coat. In this state of jeopardy, unable to move his body, to stir his limbs, or even to incline his head, he remained more than an hour-so equally balanced and so obstinate was the fight! At one moment, while the battle swerved, in favor of the enemy, a young savage, chose an odd way of discovering his humor. He found Putnam bound. He might have despatched him at a blow. But he loved better to excite the terrors of the prisoner by hurling a tomahawk at his head, or rather it should seem his object was to see how near he could throw it without touching him. The weapon struck in the tree a number of times at a hair's-breadth from the mark. When the Indian had finished his amusement, a French bas-officer, a much more inveterate savage by nature, though descended from so humane and polished a nation, perceiving Putnam, came to him, and, levelling a fuzee within a foot of his breast, attempted to discharge it - it missed fire. Ineffectually did the intended victim solicit the treatment due to his situation, by repeating that he was a prisoner of war. The degenerate Frenchman did not understand the language of honor or of nature; deaf to their voice, and dead to sensibility, he violently and repeatedly pushed the muzzle of his gun against Putnam's rib's, and finally gave him a cruel blow on the jaw with the butt-end of his piece. After this dastardly deed he left him.
At length the enemy was driven from the field of battle, and, as they were retiring, Putnam was untied by the Indian who had made him prisoner, and whom he afterwards called master. Having been conducted to some distance from the place of action, be was stripped of his coat, vest, stockings and shoes; loaded with as many of the packs of the wounded as could be piled on him, strongly pinioned and his wrists tied as closely together as they could be pulled with a cord. After he had marched through no pleasant paths, in this painful manner, for many a tedious mile, the party, who were excessively fatigued, halted to breathe. His bands were now immoderately swelled from the tightness of the ligature, and the pain had become intolerable. His feet were so much scratched, that the blood dropped fast from them. Exhausted with bearing a burden above his strength, and frantic with torments exquisite beyond endurance, he intreated the Irish interpreter to implore, as the last and only grace he desired of the savages, that they would knock him on the head, and take his scalp at once, or loose his hands. A French officer, instantly interposing, ordered his hands to be unbound, and some of the packs to be taken off. By this time the Indian who captured him and had been absent with the wounded, coming up, gave him a pair of moccasins, and expressed great indignation at the unworthy treatment his prisoner had suffered.
That savage chief again returned, to the care of the wounded, and the Indians, about two hundred in number, went before the rest of the party to the place where the whole were that night to encamp. They took with them Major Putnam, on whom, besides innumerable other outrages, they had the barbarity to inflict a deep wound withthe tomahawk in the left cheek. His sufferings were in this place to be consummated. A scene of horror, infinitely greater than had ever met his eyes before, was now preparing. It was determined to roast him alive. For this purpose they led him into a dark forest, stripped him naked, bound him to a tree, and piled dry brush, with other fuel, at a small distance, in a circle round him. They accompanied their labors, as if for his funeral dirge, with screams and sounds, inimitable but by savage voices. Then they set the piles on fire. A sudden shower damped the rising flame. Still they strove to kindle it; at last the blaze ran fiercely round the circle. Major Putnam soon began to feel the scorching beat. His hands were so tied that he could move his body. He often shifted sides as the fire approached. This sight, at the very idea of which all but savages must shudder, afforded the highest diversion to his inhuman tormentors, who demonstrated the delirium of their joy by corresponding yells, dances and gesticulations. He saw clearly that his final hour was inevitaby come. He summoned all his resolution, and composed his mind, so far as the circumstances could admit, to bid an eternal farewell to all he held most dear. To quit the world would scarcely have cost a single pang; but for the idea of home, but for the remembrance of domestic endearments, of the affectionate partner of his soul, and of their beloved offspring. His thought was ultimately fixed on a happier state of existence, beyond the tortures he was beginning to endure. The bitterness of death, even of that death which is accompanied with the keenest agonies, was, in a manner, past - nature, with a feeble struggle, was quitting its last hold on sublunary things, when a French officer rushed through the crowd, opened a way by scattering the burning brands, and unbound the victim. It was Molang himself - to whom a savage, unwilling to see another human victim immolated, had run and communicated the tidings. That commandant spurned and severely reprimanded the barbarians, whose nocturnal powwas and hellish orgies he suddenly ended. Putnam did not want for feeling or gratitude. The French commander, fearing to trust him alone with them, remained till he could safely deliver him into the hands of his master.
The savage approached his prisoner kindly, and seemed to treat him with particular affection. He offered him some hard biscuit; but finding that he could not chew them, on account of the blow he had received from the Frenchman, this more humane savage soaked some of the biscuit in water, and made him suck the pulp-like part. Determined, however, not to lose his captive, the refreshmentment being finished, he took the moccasins from his feet, and tied them to one of his wrists; then directing him to lie down on his back on the hard ground, he stretched one arm to its full length, and bound it fast to a young tree; the other arm was extended and bound in the same manner - his legs were stretched apart, and fastened to two saplings. Then a number of tall, but slender poles were cut down, which, with some long bushes, were laid across his body from head to foot: on each side lay as many Indians as could conveniently find lodging, in order to prevent the possibility of his escape. In this disagreeable and painful posture he remained till morning. During the night, (the longest and most dreary conceivable) our hero used to relate that he felt a ray of cheerfulness come casually across his mind, and could not even refrain from smiling when he reflected on this ludicrous group for a painter, of which he himself was the principal figure.
The next day be was allowed his blanket and moccasins and permitted to march without carrying any pack or receiving any insult. To allay his extreme hunger, a little bear's-meat was given, which he sucked through his teeth. At night the party arrived at Ticonderoga, and the prisoner was placed under the care of a French guard. The savages, who had been prevented from glutting their diabolical thirst for blood, took this opportunity of manifesting their malevolence for the disappointment by horrid grimaces and angry gestures; but they were suffered no more to offer violence or personal indignity to him.
After having been examined by the Marquis de Montcalm, Major Putnam was conducted to Montreal by a French officer, who treated him with the greatest indulgence and humanity.
At this place were several prisoners. Colonel Peter Schuyler, remarkable for his philanthropy, generosity and friendship, was of the number. No sooner had he heard of Major Putnam's arrival, than be went to the interpreter's quarters, and inquired whether he had a Provincial major in his custody? He found Major Putnam in a comfortable condition - without coat, waistcoat, or hose - the remnant of his clothing miserably dirty and ragged - his beard long and squalid - his legs torn by thorns and briers - his face gashed with wounds and swollen with bruises. Colonel Schuyler, irritated beyond all sufferance at such a sight, could scarcely restrain his speech within limits consistent with the prudence of a prisoner and the meekness of a Christian. Major Putnam was immediately treated according to his rank, clothed in a decent manner, and supplied with money by this liberal and sympathetic patron of the distressed, and by his assistance he was soon after exchanged.
In the year 1760, Major Putnam was promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel, and served under General Amherst in the conquest of Canada. He embraced numerous opportunities of achieving feats of valor, and was particularly honored by his general for the promptitude and ability with which he acquitted himself of his arduous duty. "Colonel Putnam, at the expiration of ten years from his first receiving a commission, after having seen as much service, endured as many hardships, encountered as many dangers, and acquired as many laurels, as any officer of his rank, with great satisfaction laid aside his uniform and returned to his plough." No character stood fairer in the public eye for integrity, bravery and patriotism. It was proverbially said, as well by British as Provincial officers, that, in a service of great peril and hardship, from 1755 to 1763, "he dared to lead where any dared to follow."
At the commencement of hostilities between the colonies and the mother-country, Colonel Putnam, on hearing of the battle at Lexington, left his plough in the middle of the field, and, without changing his clothes, repaired to Cambridge, riding in a single day one hundred miles. He was soon appointed a major-general in the provincial army, and, returning to Connecticut, he made no delay in bringing on a body of troops. Not long after his appointment, the commander of the British army, unwilling that so valuable an officer should act in opposition, privately conveyed to him a proposal that if be would quit the rebel party, he might rely on being made a major-general in the British establishment, and receiving a great pecuniary compensation for his services; but he spurned the offer. "On the 16th of June,1775, it was determined in a council of war, at which General Putnam assisted, that a fortified post should be established at or near Bunker-hill. General Putnam marched with the first detachment and commenced the work; he was the principal agent or engineer who traced the lines of the redoubt, and be continued most, if not all the night with the workmen: at any rate, he was on the spot before sun-rising in the morning, and had taken his station on the top of Bunker-hill, and participated in the danger as well as the glory of that day." In the spring of the year 1818 an account of the battle of Bunkerhill was published in the Port Folio by Henry Dearborn, Esq., major-general in the army of the United States, in which he animadverts on the conduct of General Putnam with great severity. To this production Daniel Putnam, Esq., son of the late general , has published a rejoinder, from which I have taken the testimonials which follow.
A Letter from the Hon. Judge Grosvenor, of Pomfret, Connecticut.
"Being under the command of General Putnam Putnam, part of our regiment,and a much larger number of Massachusetts troops, under Colonel Prescott, were ordered to march on the evening of the 16th of June, 1775 to Breed's-hill, where, under the immediate superintendence of General Putnam, ground was broken and a redoubt formed. On the following day, the 17th, dispositions were made to deter the advance of the enemy, as there was reason to believe an immediate attack was intended. General Putnam during the period was extremely active, and directed principally the operations. All were animated, and their general inspired confidence by his example. The British army, having made dispositions for landing at Morton's Point, were covered by the fire of shot and shells from Copp's-hill in Boston, which it had opened on our redoubt early in the morning, and continued the greater part of the day. At this moment a detachment of four lieutenants, of which I was one, and one hundred and twelve men, selected the preceding day from General Putnam's regiment, under Captain Knowlton, were by the general ordered to take post at a rail-fence on the left of the breastwork that ran north from the redoubt to the bottom of Breed's-hill. This order was promptly executed, and our detachment, in advancing to the post, took one rail fence and placed it against another, as a partial cover, nearly parallel with the line of the breastwork, and extended our left nearly to Mystic river, Each man was furnished with one pound of gun-powder and forty-eight balls. This ammunition was received, however, prior to marching to Breed's-hill. In this position our detachment remained till a second division of British troops landed, when they commenced a fire of their field artillery of several rounds, and particularly against the rail-fence; then formed in columns, advanced to the attack, displayed in line at about the distance of musket-shot, and commenced firing. At this instant our whole line opened on the enemy, and so precise and fatal was our fire, that in the course of a short time they gave way, and retired in disorder out of musket-shot, leaving before us many killed and wounded. There was but a short respite on the part of the British, as their lines were soon filled up and led against us, when they were met as before, and forced back with great loss. On reinforcements joining the enemy, they made a direct advance on the redoubt, and being successful, which our brave Captain Knowlton perceiving, ordered a retreat of his men, in which he was sustained by two companies under the command of Captains Clark and Chester. The loss in our detachment I presume was nearly equal. Of my own immediate command of thirty men and one subaltern, there were eleven killed and wounded; among the latter was myself, though not so severely as to prevent my retiring. At the rail-fence there was not posted any corps save our own, under Knowlton, at the time the firing commenced; nor did I hear of any other being there, till long after the action. Other troops, it is said, were ordered to join us, but refused doing so. Of the officers on the ground, the most active within my observation were General Putnam, Colonel Presscott, and Captain Knowlton; but no doubt there were many more, equally brave and meritorious, who must naturally have escaped the eye of one attending to his own immediate command.
"Thus you have a brief statement of my knowledge of the action, without descending to particulars. To conclude, it is matter of surprise, even of astonishment to me, my dear air, that I am called on to state my opinion of the character of your honored father, General Putnam, who was ever the first in public life at the post of honor and danger, and who, in his private conduct, was excelled by none. Look but at his services in the French and Indian wars from 1755 to 1763, and finally at those of the revolution, and you will need no proof to refute the calumny of common defamers.
"With respect, I am, yours, truly, "THOMAS GROSVENOR.
"Colonel Daniel Putnam."
The following is a letter from Colonel John Trumbull, of New York, an officer of distinction in the revolutionary war, and now a celebrated historical painter, employed in his profession by the government of the United States, dated, New York, 30th of March, 1818:
"In the summer of 1786, 1 became acquainted in London with Colonel John Small, of the British army, who had served in America many years, and had known General Putnam intimately during the war of Canada, from 1756 to 1763. From him I had the two following anecdotes respecting the battle of Bunker-hill. I shall nearly repeat his words: Looking at the picture which I had then almost completed, he said: 'I don't like the situation in which you have placed my old friend Putnam.; you have not done him justice. I wish you would alter that part of your picture, and introduce a circumstance which actually happened and which I can never forget. When the British troops advanced the second time to the attack of the redoubt, I with other officers was in front Of the line to encourage the men; we had advanced very near the works undisturbed, when an irregular fire like a feu de joie was poured in on us; it was cruelly fatal. The troops fell back, and when I looked to the right and left, I saw not one officer standing. I glanced my eye to the enemy, and saw several young men levelling their pieces at me; I knew their excellence as marksmen, and considered myself gone. At this moment my old friend Putnam rushed forward, and striking up the muzzles of their with his sword, cried out, 'For God's sake, my lads, don't fire at that man! - I love him as I do my brother.' We were so near each other that I heard his words distinctly. He was obeyed; I bowed, thanked him, and walked away unmolested.'
"The other anecdote relates to the death of General Warren. At the moment when the troops succeeded in carrying the redoubt and the Americans were in full retreat, General Howe, who had been hurt by a spent ball, which bruised his ankle, was leaning on my arm. He called suddenly to me : 'Do you see that elegant young man who has just fallen ? - do you know him?' I looked to the spot to which he pointed: 'Good God, sir, I believe it is my friend Warren.' 'Leave me then instantly - run - keep off the troops-save him if possible.' - I flew to the spot. 'My dear friend' I said to him, 'Ihope you are not badly hurt.' He looked up, seemed to recollect me, smiled, and died! A musket-ball had passed through the upper part of his head. Colonel Small had the character of an honorable, upright man, and could have no conceivable motive for deviating from truth in relating these circumstances to me; I therefore believe them to be true. You remember, my dear Sir, the viper biting the file. The character of your father for courage, humanity, generosity and integrity is too firmly established, by the testimony of those who did know him, to be tarnished by the breath of one who confesses that he did not. Accept, my dear air, this feeble tribute to your father's memory, from one who knew him, respected him, loved him - and who wishes health and prosperity to you and all the good man's posterity.
"JOHN TRUMBULL"Daniel Putnam, Esquire."
"I shall make no comment," says Colonel Putnam, "on the first anecdote by Colonel Small, except that the circumstances were related by General Putnam, without any essential alteration, soon after the battle; and that there was an interview of the parties on the lines between Prospect and Bunker-hill, at the request of Colonel Small, not long afterwards."
It is very apparent that General Washington reposed great confidence in the skill and judgment of General Putnam, or he would not have intrusted him with the command of the city of New York at the moment when it was expected that the whole of the British land and naval forces would attempt to take possession of that city. On the 29th of March, 1776, the commander-in-chief gave to General Putnam the following orders and instructions: "You will, no doubt, make the best despatch in getting to New York; on your arrival there, you will assume the command, and immediately proceed in continuing to execute the plan proposed by Major-General Lee, for fortifying that city, and securing the passes of the East and North rivers. If, on consultation with the brigadier-generals and engineers, any alteration in that plan is thought necessary, you are at liberty to make it, cautiously avoiding to break in too much on his main design, unless where it may be apparently necessary so to do, and that by the general voice and opinion of the gentlemen above mentioned. You will meet the quarter-master-general, Colonel Mifflin, and commissary-general, Colonel Trumbull, at New York. As these are both men of excellent talents in their different departments, you will do well to give them all the authority and assistance they require; and should a council of war be necessary, it is my direction that they assist at it. Your long service and experience will, better than my particular directions at this distance, point out to you the works most proper to be first raised, and your perseverance, activity and zeal will lead you, without my recommending it, to exert every nerve to disappoint the enemy's designs."
"The faithful execution of the duties
here enjoined were acknowledged by the commander-in-chief after
his arrival in New York, and his thanks were publicly expressed
in
general orders. Two days before the battle of Flatbush, in consequence
of the sickness of that excellent officer, Major-General Greene,
who had commanded on Long IsIand, General Putnam was ordered
to the command of that post, and assisted in the arduous and
complicated difficulties of that masterly retreat. In the memorable
and distressing flight of the American army through New
Jersey, in 1776, General Putnam was always near - always the
friend, the supporter, and confidant of his beloved chief; and
the moment after reaching the western bank of the Delaware with
the rear of the army, he was ordered to Philadelphia, to fortify
and defend that city against a meditated attack. When, in the
summer of 1777, Fort
Montgomery was captured by the enemy, and it was determined to
erect another fortification on the banks of the Hudson for the
defence of that river, the commander-in-chief left it wholly
to the judgment of General Putnam to fix on the spot, who decided
in favor of West Point; and, as his biographer has remarked,
'it is no vulgar praise to say, that to him belongs the glory
of having chosen this rock of our military salvation.'"
As an instance of the decision of his temper, the following is deserving of notice. A man by the name of Nathan Palmer was detected in General Putnam's camp, who, on trial, was found to be a lieutenant in the tory new levies. Governor Tryon, their commander, addressed General Putnam, and reclaimed Palmer as a British officer, and threatened vengeance in case he should be executed. This drew from him a reply in the following laconic style:
"SIR: Nathan Palmer, a lieutenant in your king's service, was taken in my camp as a spy, - he was tried as a spy, - he was condemned as a spy-and you may rest assured, sir, that he shall be hanged as a spy.
"I have the honor to be, &c. "ISRAEL PUTNAM."His Excellency Governor Tryon.
"P. S. Afternoon. He is hanged."
In December, 1779, while on his return from Connecticut to head-quarters, this venerable man was attacked by a paralytic affection, under which he languished till the 19th of May, 1790, when his honorable and useful life was brought to a final close. The qualities of his mind were sincerity, generosity and an invincible sense of duty. The moral virtues and duties of piety and pure religion were objects of his serious reflection, and the late Rev. Dr. Dwight, in his Travels, has eulogized these as eminent traits in his character.
Extract of a Letter from Gen. Washington to Gen. Putnam, dated
"HEAD-QUARTERS, 2d June, 1783.
"DEAR SIR: Your favor of the 20th of May I received with much pleasure. For I can assure you that, among the many worthy and meritorious officers with whom I have had the happiness to be connected in service through the course of this war, and from whose cheerful assistance in the various and trying vicissitudes of a complicated contest, the name of Putnam is not forgotten; nor will it be, but with that stroke of time which shall obliterate from my mind the remembrance of all those toils and fatigues through which we have struggled for the preservation and establishment of the rights, liberties, and independence of our country. Your congratulations on the happy prospect of peace and independent security, with their attendant blessings to the United States, I receive with great satisfaction; and beg you will accept a return of my congratulations to you, on this auspicious event - an event in which, great as it is in itself, and glorious as it will probably be in its consequences, you have a right to participate largely, from the distinguished part you have contributed towards its attainment. I anticipate with pleasure the day, and I trust not far off, when I shall quit the busy scenes of military employment, and retire to the more tranquil walks of domestic life. In that, or whatever other situation Providence may dispose of my future days, the remembrance of the many friendships and connexions I have had the happiness to contract with the gentlemen of the army, will be one of my most grateful reflections.
"Under this contemplation, and impressed with the sentiments of benevolence and regard, I commend you, my dear Sir, my other friends, and, with them, the interests and happiness of our dear country, to the keeping and protection of Almighty God.
"I have the honor to be, &c., &c.
"GEORGE WASHINGTON. "To the Hon. Major-General Putnam."
The following eulogium was pronounced at the grave of General Putnam by Dr. A. Waldo:
"Those venerable relics! once delighted in the endearing domestic virtues which constitute the excellent neighbor-husband-parent-and worthy brother! liberal and substantial in his friendship; - unsuspicious - open - and generous; just and sincere in dealing; a benevolent citizen of the world - he concentrated in his bosom the noble qualities of an Honest Man.
"Born a Hero -whom nature taught and cherished in the lap of innumerable toils and dangers, he was terrible in battle! But, from the amiableness of his heart - when carnage ceased, his humanity spread over the field, like the refreshing zephyrs of a summer's evening! The prisoner - the wounded - the sick - the forlorn - experienced the delicate sympathy of this Soldier's Pillar. The poor and the needy of every description, received the charitable bounties of this Christian Soldier.
"He pitied littleness - loved goodness - admired, greatness, and ever aspired to its glorious summit! The friend, the servant, and almost unparalleled lover of his country; - worn with honorable age, and the former toils of war - Putnam rests from his labors!
When the last trump shall renovate his dust -
Still by the mandate of eternal truth,
His soul will flourish in immortal youth!'
Dr. Dwight penned a very excellent inscription, which is engraved on his tomb, but our narrow limits must apologize for its omission in this place.
HOME PAGEMAJOR-GENERAL WILLIAM HEATH was a native of Roxbury, Massachusetts, and was from his youth a cultivator of the soil, which was his favorite pursuit. He was not conversant with general literature; but, being particularly attached to the study of military tactics, he acquired a knowledge of modern warfare in its various branches and duties.
At an early period of the opposition of, the colonies to the unjust and oppressive measures of the British ministry, he was an active militia officer, and assiduously engaged in organizing and disciplining the companies of militia and minute-men. In the year 1775, being ranked among the patriots and advocates for liberty, he was by the Provincial Congress commissioned as a brigadier-general.
During the siege of Boston, be was in commission as a general officer, but on no occasion distinguished for enterprise or important services. When General Washington contemplated an attack on Boston, General Heath was offered the command of a division, but he declined the hazardous service. In August, 1776, he was by Congress promoted to the rank of major-general in the continental army, and in the campaign of that year he commanded a division near the enemy's lines at King's-bridge and Morrisania. During the year 1777, and till November, 1778, he was the commanding officer of the Eastern department, and his head-quarters were at Boston. Here devolved on him the very arduous duties of superintendent of the convention troops, captured with General Burgoyne at Saratoga, which were quartered at Cambridge. This station required a character of uncommon firmness and decision, and had General Heath been destitute of these qualities, he would have been subjected to the grossest impositions and indignities, from the haughty Generals Burgoyne and Phillips, and the perverse temper of their soldiery. These officers, lofty in spirit, and of high rank and character, now chagrined by a state of captivity, occasioned to General Heath a series of difficulties and vexations. He soon, however, convinced them that he was neither deficient in spirit nor ignorant of his duty as a military commander. In all his proceedings with these turbulent captives, he supported the authority of Congress and the honor and dignity of the command reposed in him; and he received the entire approbation of that honorable body, to whom he was amenable for his conduct. In the most interesting and critical circumstances in which a general could possibly be placed, he uniformly exhibited a prudence, animation; decision, and firmness which have done him honor, and fully justified the confidence reposed in him.
The cordial and most explicit approbation of the army, the inhabitants of this town, the army and navy of our illustrious ally, the government of this state, his excellency the commander-in-chief, and of Congress, added to the consciousness of his having discharged his trust with fidelity, must in a great measure have alleviated the fatigues incident to his arduous station, and compensated the loss of his health, so much impaired by an incessant attention to business (Continental Journal, printed at Boston, November 12th, 1778.) In June, 1779, General Heath was elected by Congress a commissioner of the Board of War, with a salary of four thousand dollars per annum, and allowed to retain his rank in the army, which he declined, preferring to participate in active operations in the field.
In the summer of 1780, he was directed by the commander-in-chief to repair to Rhode Island, to make arrangements for the reception of the French fleet and army, which were expected soon to arrive. In his interview with the Count Rochambeau and other officers of the French army and navy, he proffered his friendly civilities, and contributed all in his power to their comfortable accommodation, which was productive of a mutual and lasting friendship between them. Indefatigable attention to duty in the various stations assigned him was a prominent trait in his character. In May, 1781, General Heath was directed by the commander-in-chief to repair to the New England states, to represent to their respective executives the distressing condition of our army, and. to solicit a speedy supply of provisions and clothing, in which he was successful. As senior major-general, he was more than once commander of the right wing of our army, and during the absence of the commander-in-chief, at the siege of Yorktown, he was intrusted with the command of the main army, posted at the highlands and vicinity, to guard the important works on the Hudson. On the 24th of June, 1784, hostilities having ceased between the two armies, General Washington addressed a letter to General Heath, expressing his thanks for his meritorious services, and his real affection and esteem, and on the same day they took their final leave.
General Heath was corpulent and bald-headed, which occasioned some of the French officers to observe that he resembled the Marquis of Granby, and he appeared, always pleased with the comparison. As an officer of parade and discipline, he was respectable; but for valorous achievements, we look in vain for his laurels. Had it been his destiny, however, to encounter the peril of a conflict in the field of blood, no one can say with what adroitness he would have played the hero.
Immediately after the close of the war, General Heath was called again into public service in civil life, and continued to hold a seat, either in the legislature or in the council of Massachusetts, till the county of Norfolk was established, in 1793, when he was appointed by Governor Hancock judge of probate and a justice of the court of common pleas; the latter office he did not accept; in the former he continued till his death. He was also a member of the state convention which ratified the federal constitution. All these offices he discharged with assiduity, affability and impartiality, and to the general satisfaction of his fellow citizens.
He had formed his opinion of human nature on the most favorable examples, and to the close of life had a strong regard to popular opinion. He repeatedly allowed himself to be held up and voted for, for the office of governor and lieutenant-governor of the commonwealth, and at one period had, no doubt, a willingness and desire to hold one of these offices. In 1806 he was elected lieutenant-governor. His refusal of the office was matter of surprise to many, and was by some imputed to an unwillingness to serve with Governor Strong; while it was well known to those most intimate with him to be owing to his disapprobation of the conduct of the legislature of that year, in their memorable, attempt to defeat the voice of the people, by setting aside Governor Strong's election.
He was, more than once an elector of president and vice-president of the United States, and gave his vote to those who undertook to appropriate to themselves the name republican till the election, preceding his death, when he withheld his vote from Mr. Madison, on account of his recommending the declaration of war in 1812, and sanctioning the measures which preceded and followed this event, and which caused the general wholly to withdraw his confidence from that administration.
Such was General Heath's public life. His private one was retired and domestic, amiable, orderly, and industrious but not remarkable for hospitality, or a liberal appropriation of property to public purposes. He died at Roxbury, January 24th, 1814, aged seventy-seven years.
HOME PAGEGENERAL LINCOLN deserves a high rank in the
fraternity of American heroes. He was born in Hingham, Massachusetts,
January 23d, (O. S.) 1733. His early education was not auspicious
to his future eminence, and his vocation was that of a farmer,
till be was more than forty years of age,
though he was commissioned as a magistrate, and elected a representative
in the state legislature. In the year 1776, he sustained the
office of lieutenant-colonel of militia, and having espoused
the cause of his country as a firm and determined whig, he was
elected a member of the Provincial Congress, and one of the secretaries
of that body, and also a member of the committee of correspondence.
In 1776 he was appointed by the council of Massachusetts a brigadier,
and soon after a major-general, and he applied himself assiduously
to training and preparing the militia for actual service in the
field, in which he dislayed the military talent which he possessed.
In October, he marched with a body of militia, and joined the
main army at New York. The commander-in-chief, from a knowledge
of his character and merit, recommended him to Congress as an
excellent officer, and in February, 1777, be was by that honorable
body created a major-general on the continental establishment.
For several months he commanded a division, or detachments in
the main army, under Washington, and was in situations which
required the exercise of the utmost vigilance and caution, as
well as firmness and courage. Having the command of about five
hundred men in an exposed situation near Bound Brook, through
the neglect of his patroles, a large body of the enemy approached
within two hundred yards of his quarters undiscovered; the general
had scarcely time to mount and leave the house before it was
surrounded. He led off his troops, however, in the face of the
enemy, and made good his retreat, though with the loss of about
sixty men, killed and wounded. One of his aids with the general's
baggage and papers fell into the hands of the enemy, as did
also three small pieces of artillery. In July, 1777, General
Washington selected him to join the northern army, under the
command of General Gates, to oppose the advance of General Burgoyne.
He took his station at Manchester, in Vermont, to receive and
form the New England militia, as they arrived, and to order their
march to the rear of the British army. He detached Colonel Brown
with five hundred men on the 13th of September to the landing
at Lake George, where he succeeded in surprising the enemy, and
took possession of two hundred batteaux, liberated one hundred
American prisoners, and captured two hundred and ninety-three
of the enemy, with the loss of only three killed and five wounded.
This enterprise was of the highest importance, and contributed
essentially to the glorious event which followed. Having detached
two other parties to the enemy's posts at Mount Independence
and Skenesborough, General Lincoln united his remaining force
with the army under General Gates, and was the second in command.
During the sanguinary conflict on the 7th of October, General
Lincoln commanded within our lines, and at one o'clock the next
morning be marched with his division to relieve the troops that
had been engaged, and to occupy the battle-ground, the enemy
having retreated. While on this duty he had occasion to ride
forward some distance, to reconnoitre, and to order some disposition
of his own troops, when a party of the enemy made an unexpected
movement, and he approached within musket-shot before he was
aware of his mistake. A whole volley of musketry was instantly
discharged at him and his aids, and he received a wound by which
the
bones of his leg were badly fractured, and be was obliged to
be carried off the field. The wound was a formidable one, and
the loss of his limb was for some time apprehended. He was for
several months confined at Albany, and it became necessary to
remove a considerable portion of the main bone before be was
conveyed to his house at Hingham; and under this painful surgical
operation, the writer of this being present, witnessed in him
a degree of firmness and patience not to be exceeded. I have
known him, says Colonel Rice, who was a member of his military
family, during the most painful operation by the surgeon, while
bystanders were frequently obliged to leave the room, entertain
us with some pleasant anecdote, or story, and draw forth a smile
from his friends. His wound continued several years in an ulcerated
state, and by the loss of the bone the limb was shortened, which
occasioned lameness during the remainder of his life. General
Lincoln certainly afforded very important assistance in the capture
of Burgoyne, though it was his unfortunate lot, while in
active duty, to be disabled before he could participate in the
capitulation. Though his recovery was not complete, he repaired
to head-quarters in the following August, and was joyfully received
by the commander-in-chief, who well knew
how to appreciate his merit. It was from a development of his
estimable character as a man, and his talent as
a military commander, that he was designated by Congress for
the arduous duties of the chief command in
the southern department, under innumerable
embarrassments. On his arrival at Charleston, December, 1778,
he found that he had to form an army,
to provide supplies, and to arrange the various departments,
that he might be able to cope with an enemy consisting of experienced
officers and veteran troops. This, it is obvious, required a
man of superior powers, indefatigable
perseverance, and unconquerable energy. Had not these been his
inherent qualities, Lincoln must have yielded to the formidable
obstacles which opposed his progress. About the 28th of December,
General Prevost arrived with a fleet and about three thousand
British troops, and took possession of Savannah, after routing
a small party of Americans, under General Robert Howe. General
Lincoln immediately put his troops in motion, and took post on
the eastern side of the river, about twenty miles from the city;
but he was not in force to commence offensive operations till
the last of February.
In April, with the view of covering the upper part of Georgia, he marched to Augusta; after which Prevost, the British commander , crossed the river into Carolina, and marched for Charleston. General Lincoln, therefore, recrossed the Savannah, and followed his route, and on his arrival near the city, the enemy had retired from before it during the previous night. A detachment of the enemy, supposed to be about six hundred men, under Lieutenant Colonel Maitland, being posted at Stone-Ferry, where they had erected works for their defence, General Lincoln resolved to attack them, which be did on the 19th of June. The contest lasted one hour and twenty minutes, in which he lost one hundred and sixty men killed and wounded, and the enemy suffered about an equal loss. Their works were found to be much stronger than bad been represented, and our artillery proving too light to annoy them, and the enemy receiving a reinforcement, our troops were obliged to retire.
The next event of importance which occurred with our general was the bold assault on Savannah, in conjunction with the Count D'Estaing. General Prevost had again possessed himself of that city, and Count D'Estaing arrived with his fleet and armament in the beginning of September, 1779. Having landed nearly three thousand French troops, General Lincoln immediately united about one thousand men to his force. The prospect of success was highly flattering, but the enemy exerted all their efforts in strengthening their lines, and after the count had summoned the garrison, and while Prevost was about to arrange articles of capitulation, be received a reinforcement. It was now resolved to attempt the place by a regular siege, but various causes occasioned a delay of several days, and when it commenced, the cannonade and bombardment failed of producing the desired effect, and the short time allowed the count on our coast, was quite insufficient for reducing the garrison by regular approaches. The commanders concluded, therefore, to make an effort on the works by assault. On the 9th of October, in the morning, the. troops were led on by D'Estaing and Lincoln, united, while a column led by Count Dillon missed their route in the darkness, and failed of the intended cooperation. Amidst a most appalling fire of the covered enemy, the allied troops forced the abatis, and planted two standards on the parapets. But being overpowered at the point of attack, they were compelled to retire; the French having seven hundred, the Americans two hundred and forty killed and wounded. The Count Pulaski, at the head of a body of our horse, was mortally wounded. General Lincoln next repaired to Charleston, and endeavored to put that city in a posture of defence, urgently requesting of Congress a reinforcement of regular troops, and additional supplies, which were but partially complied with. In February, 1780, General Sir Henry Clinton arrived, and landed a formidable force in the vicinity; and on the 10th of March encamped in front of the American lines at Charleston. Considering the vast superiority of the enemy, both in sea and land forces, it might be questioned whether prudence and correct judgment would dictate an attempt to defend the city; it will not be supposed, however, that the determination was formed without the most mature deliberation, and for reasons perfectly justifiable. It is well known that the general was in continual expectation of an augmentation of strength by reinforcements. On the 10th of April, the enemy having made some advances, summoned the garrison to an unconditional surrender, which was promptly refused. A heavy and incessant cannonade was sustained on each side, till the 11th of May, when the besiegers had completed their third parallel line, and having made a second demand of surrender, a capitulation was agreed on.
"Having received," says the general,
"an address from the principal inhabitants, and from a number
of the country militia, desiring that I would accept the terms;
and a request from the lieutenant-governor and council, that
the negotiation might be renewed; the militia of the town
having thrown down their arms; our provisions, saving a little
rice, being exhausted; the troops on the line being worn down
by fatigue, having for a number of days been obliged to lay on
the banquette; our harbor closely blocked up; completely invested
by land by nine thousand men at least, the flower of the British
army, besides the large force they could at all times draw from
the marine, and aided by a great number of blacks in their laborious
employments; the garrison at this time, exclusive of sailors,
but little exceeding two thousand five hundred men, part of whom
had thrown down their arms; the citizens in general discontented,
the enemy being within twenty yards of our lines, and preparing
to make a general assault by sea and land; many of our cannon
dismounted, and others silenced for want of shot; a retreat being
judged impracticable, and every hope of timely succor cut off,
we were induced to offer and accede to the terms executed on
the 12th of May." It is to be lamented that, with all the
judicious and vigorous efforts in his power, General Lincoln
was requited only by the frowns of fortune, whereas had he been
successful in his bold enterprise and views, he would have been
crowned with unfading laurels. But notwithstanding a series of
disappointments and unfortunate occurrences, he was censured
by no one, nor was his judgment or merit called in question.
He retained his popularity, and the confidence of the army, and
was considered as a most zealous patriot, and the bravest of
soldiers. "The motives and feelings that prompted General
Lincoln rather to risk a siege than to evacuate Charleston were
most honorable, to him as a man and a soldier. There was such
a balance of reasons on the question, as under the existing circumstances
should exempt his decision from blame or distrust. He could not
calculate on the despondence and inactivity of the people who
should come to his succor. The suspense and anxiety, the toil
and hazard attending the siege, gave the fullest scope to his
wisdom, patience and valor. His exertions were incessant. He
was on the lines night and day, and for the last fortnight never
undressed to sleep (Notice of General Lincoln in the Collection
of the Historical Society, Vol. 3d, second series, from which
I have made other extracts.) Notwithstanding this unfortunate
termination of his command, so established was the spotless reputation
of the vanquished general, that he continued to enjoy the undiminished
respect and confidence of the Congress, the army, and the commander-in-chief
(Lee's Memoirs of the War in the Southern Department.) "Great
praise is due to General Lincoln," says Dr. Ramsay, "for
his judicious and spirited conduct in baffling for three months
the greatly superior force of Sir Henry Clinton and Admiral Arburthnot.
Though Charleston and the Southern army were lost, yet, by their
long-protracted defence, the British plans were not only retarded
but deranged, and North Carolina was saved for the remainder
of the year 1780."
General Lincoln was admitted to his parole, and in November following be was exchanged for Major-General Phillips, a prisoner of the convention of Saratoga. In the campaign of 1781, General Lincoln commanded a division under Washington, and at the siege of Yorktown he had his full share of the honor of that brilliant and auspicious event. The articles of capitulation stipulated for the same honor in favor of the surrendering army, as had been granted to the garrison of Charleston. General Lincoln was appointed to conduct them to the field where their arms were deposited, and received the customary submission. In the general order of the commander-in-chief the day after the capitulation, General Lincoln was among the general officers whose services were particularly mentioned. In October, 1781, he was chosen by Congress secretary at war, retaining his rank in the army. In this office he continued till October, 1783, when his proffered resignation was accepted by Congress as follows:
"Resolved, That the resignation of Major-General Lincoln, as secretary of war for the United States, be accepted in consideration of the earnest desire which he expresses, the objects of the war being so happily accomplished, to retire to private life, and that he be informed that the United States in Congress assembled entertain a high sense of his perseverance, fortitude, activity and meritorious services in the field, as well as of his diligence, fidelity and capacity in the execution of the office of secretary at war, which important trust he has discharged to their entire approbation."
Having relinquished the duties and cares of a public employment, he retired, and devoted his attention to his farm; but in 1784, he was chosen one of the commissioners and agents on the part of the state to make and execute a treaty with the Penobscot Indians. When in the year 1786-7, the authority of our state government was in a manner prostrated, and the country alarmed by a most audacious spirit of insurrection, under the guidance of Shays and Day, General Lincoln was appointed by the governor and council to command a detachment of militia, consisting of four or five thousand men, to oppose their progress, and compel them to a submission to the laws. He marched from Boston on the 20th of January, into the counties of Worcester, Hampshire, and Berkshire, where the insurgents had erected their standard. They were embodied in considerable force, and manifested a determined resistance, and a slight skirmish ensued between them and a party of militia under General Shepherd. Lincoln, however, conducted with such address and energy, that the insurgents were routed from one town to another, till they were completely dispersed in all directions; and by his wise and prudent measures the insurrection was happily suppressed without bloodshed, excepting a few individuals who were slain under General Shepherd's command. At the May election, 1787, General Lincoln was elected lieutenant-governor by the legislature, having had a plurality of votes by the people. He was a member of the convention for ratifying the federal constitution, and in the summer of 1789, he received from President Washington the appointment of collector of the port of Boston, which office he sustained till, being admonished by the increasing infirmities of age, he requested permission to resign, about two years before his death. In 1789, he was appointed one of the commissioners to treat with the Creek Indians on the frontiers of the Southern states, and in 1793 he was one of the commissioners to effect a peace with the Western Indians. The subject of this memoir received from the University of Cambridge the honorary degree of Master of Arts. He was one of the first members of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, and a member of the Massachusetts Historical Society, and he contributed by his pen to the stock of useful materials for their respective publications. Having, after his resignation of the office of collector, passed about two years in retirement and in tranquillity of mind, but experiencing the feebleness of age, he received a short attack of disease, by which his honorable life was terminated on the 9th of May, 1810, aged 77 years. The following tribute is on the records of the society of Cincinnati:
"At the annual meeting in July, 1810, Major-General John Brooks was chosen president of the society, to supply the place of our venerable and much-lamented president, General Benjamin Lincoln, who had presided over the society from the organization thereof, in 1783, to the 9th of May, 1810, the day of his decease, with the entire approbation of every member, and the grateful tribute of his surviving comrades, for his happy guidance and affectionate attentions during so long a period."
General Lincoln in his very nature was unsusceptible of the spirit of envy. Whoever achieved a noble action to the honor and advantage of his country, whether as a patriot or soldier, was with him the man of merit and the theme of eulogy, though it might eclipse his own fame. He was universally respected as one of the best of men, of ardent patriotism, and of heroic courage. Major-General Knox, whose candor and discriminating judgment no one will deny, was known to estimate next to Washington in military talents, Generals Greene and Lincoln. Colonel Nathan Rice, a respectable officer, who was a member of his military family, observes, that the sacrifice of as much domestic happiness as falls to the lot of men, to serve his country, would seem to place his patriotism beyond suspicion. The firmness and zeal with which he rendered this service during her struggle, the coolness with which he met danger, his fortitude under bodily pain, privation and disappointments, and the confidence reposed in him by the commander-in-chief, all strongly evince that his country had not misjudged in elevating him to the distinguished rank he held in the army. While at Purysburgh, on the Savannah river, a soldier named Fickling, having been detected in frequent attempts to desert, was tried and sentenced to be hanged. The general ordered the execution. The rope broke; a second was procured, which broke also; the case was reported to the general for directions. "Let him run," said the general, "I thougbt he looked like a scape-gallows."
Major Garden, in his Anecdotes of the American Revolution, relates this story with some addition. It happened that as Fickling was led to execution, the surgeon-general of the army passed accidentally on his way to his quarters, which were at some distance. When the Second rope was procured, the adjutant of the regiment, a stout and heavy man, assayed by every means to break it, but without effect. Fickling was then haltered and again turned off, when, to the astonishment of the bystanders, the rope untwisted, and he fell a second time uninjured to the ground. A cry for mercy was now general throughout the ranks, which occasioned Major Ladson, aid-de-camp to General Lincoln, to gallop to head-quarters to make a representation of facts, which were no sooner stated than an immediate pardon was granted, accompanied with an order that he should instantaneously be drummed, with every mark of infamy, out of camp, and threatened with instant death if he ever should be found attempting to approach it. In the interim, the surgeon-general had established himself at his quarters in a distant barn, little doubting but that the catastrophe was at an end, and Fickling quietly resting in his grave. Midnight was at hand, and he was busily engaged in writing, when, hearing the approach of a footstep, he raised his eyes, and saw with astonishment the figure of the man who had in his opinion been executed, slowly and with haggard countenance approaching towards him. "How! how is this?" exclaimed the doctor; "whence come you? what do you want with me? were you not hanged this morning." "Yes, sir," replied the resuscitated man; "I am the wretch you saw going to the gallows, and who was hanged." "Keep your distance," said the doctor; "approach me not till you say why you come here." "Simply, sir," said the supposed spectre, "to solicit food. I am no ghost, doctor. The rope broke twice while the executioner was doing his office, and the general thought proper to pardon me." "If that be the case," rejoined the doctor, "eat and be welcome; but I beg of you in future to have a little more consideration, and not intrude so unceremoniously into the apartment of one who had every right to suppose you an inhabitant of the tomb''
Regularity both in business and his mode of living were peculiar traits in his character; habitually temperate, and accustomed to sleep unconfined to time or place. In conversation he was always correct and chaste; on no occasion uttering any thing like profanity or levity on serious subjects, and when others have indulged in these respects in his presence, it was ever received by him with such marked disapprobation of countenance, as to draw from them an instantaneous apology, and regret for the offence. Having, while collector, appointed a violent party-man to a place of profit merely from motives of benevolence, he had frequently, with many others, abused the general, calling him "a damned old rascal." On the first opportunity, the general said to him, "So Mr. ******, you say I am a damned old rascal; you might have spared the damned," without adding a word more; but it was expressed in a manner that prevented a reply; nor did he remove him from office. In the various characters of parent, husband and master, I ever held him up, says Colonel Rice, as a model of perfection. The law of kindness ever dwelt on his tongue.
This memoir will be concluded by some brief extracts from the Historical Collections:
"In General Lincoln's character, strength and softness, the estimable and amiable qualities, were happily blended. His mind was quick and active, yet discriminating and sound. He displayed a fund of thought and information, derived from select though limited reading, from careful observation of men and things, from habits of thinking, and from conversation. A degree of enthusiasm or exultation of feeling on the objects of his pursuit belonged to his temperament, but it was under the control of good sense and sober views. He was patient and cool in deliberation; in execution, prompt and vigorous. He was conspicuous for plain, strict, inflexible integrity, united, however, with prudence, candor, and a compassionate disposition. As a military commander, he was judicious, brave, determined, indefatigable. His distinguished merit in this character was never denied, while all have not agreed in opinion on some of his plans in the southern command. Being a soldier of the revolution, he had to anticipate the effect of experience, and might commit mistakes. He was surrounded by difficulties; he met extraordinary disappointments in his calculations of supplies and succors. In the principal instances which issued unfortunately, the storming of Savannah and the siege of Charleston, he had but a choice of evils; and whichever way he decided, the course rejected would have seemed to many persons more eligible. General Lincoln was a federalist of the Washington school. He experienced the benefit of his weight of character and the sense entertained by the community of his public services, in being suffered to retain his office of collector.
"Religion exerted its full influence over the mind and conduct of General Lincoln. He was a Christian of the Anti-sectarian, Catholic, or liberal sect. He was firm in his faith, serious and affectionate in his piety, without superstition, fanaticism or austerity. He was from early manhood a communicant, and for a great part of his life a deacon of the church. He never shunned an avowal of his belief, nor feared to appear what he was, nor permitted the reality of his convictions to remain in doubt. The person and air of General Lincoln betokened his military vocation. He was of middle height and erect, broad-chested and muscular, in his latter years corpulent, with open intelligent features, a venerable and benign aspect. His manners were easy and unaffected, but courteous and polite."
In all his transactions, both public and private, his mind was elevated above all sordid or sinister views, and our history will not perhaps record many names more estimable than was that of General Lincoln.
HOME PAGEKnight of the Order of Fidelity in Germany, and Major-General in the Army of the United States.
THIS highly distinguished personage was a Prussian officer, aid-de-camp to the great Frederick, and held the rank of lieutenant-general in the army of that consummate commander. He arrived in America December, 1777, and presented himself with his credentials to Congress, proffering his services in our army without any claim to rank, and requested permission only to render such assistance as might be in his power, in the character of a volunteer. In thus devoting himself to our cause, be made an immense sacrifice, by relinquishing his honorable station and emoluments in Europe. Congress voted him their thanks, for his zeal and the disinterested tender of his services, and he joined the main army under General Washington at Valley Forge. His qualifications for a teacher of the system of military tactics were soon manifested; having for many years practised on the system which the king of Prussia had introduced into his own army. In May, 1778, by the strong recommendation of the commander-in-chief, Congress appointed him inspector-general with the rank of major-general. He commenced his duties as inspector, beginning with the officers, who were formed into separate bodies, frequently exercised and instructed in the various movements and evolutions, when manoeuvring battalions, brigades, or divisions of the army. He exerted all his powers for the establishment of a regular system of discipline, economy, and uniformity among our heterogeneous bodies of soldiers. In the discharge of this duty, and to effect his favorite object, he encountered obstacles to which a less zealous spirit would have yielded as insurmountable. By his superior talents, indefatigable industry, and perseverance, he rendered a service to our army, without which it could not have attained to a condition capable of achieving honor and glory in the face of European veteran troops.. Charmed with the neat and soldierly appearance of those who had profited by his instructions and duly improved in the art of discipline, and equally detesting the soldier whose awkward and unmilitary conduct betrayed his negligence, there never was a review but the baron rewarded the one with more than praise, and censured the other, whether officer or soldier, with a severity equal to his deserts. While reviewing our regiment, he noticed in the ranks a very spruce young lad, handsomely formed, standing erect, with the air of a genteel soldier, his gun and equipments in perfect order. The baron, struck with his military appearance, patted him under his chin to elevate his head still more erect, viewed him with a smile, and said, "How long have you been a soldier? You are one pretty soldier in miniature. . How old are you?" "Seventeen, sir." "Have you got a wife?" Then calling to the colonel, said, "Colonel Jackson, this is one fine soldier in miniature."
The baron composed a complete system of exercise and discipline, which was approved by the commander-in-chief, and ordered by Congress to be published and adopted in our army. Colonel William North and Colonel Walker were aids-de-camp and members of his family, between whom there existed a mutual attachment and affection, pure as parent and sons.
Colonel North at an early age volunteered his services in the bold and perilous enterprise undertaken by General Arnold in the autumn of 1775, to penetrate to Canada through the unexplored wilderness from Kennebec, and was among the miserable sufferers who apprehended the horrors of death in the wilderness. When Colonel Henry Jackson raised his regiment in the state of Massachusetts, this gentleman was commissioned as commander of a company in this regiment, in which he served with honor till he was appointed aid-de-camp to Baron Steuben. By the amiable qualities of his heart, his ingratiating and gentlemanly manners, he won the affection of the baron, by whom he was treated with the favor of an adopted son. After the close of the war he was appointed major-general of militia in the state of New York, and he has recently transferred his residence to New London, in Connecticut. It is chiefly by the aid of his pen that I am enabled to furnish this tribute to the memory of his justly-celebrated patron.
The baron was distinguished for his adherence to the principles of political integrity and moral virtue. His heart was replete with generous sentiments and the purest benevolence.
After General Arnold treacherously deserted his post at West Point, the baron never failed to manifest his indignation and abhorrence of his name and character, and while inspecting Colonel Sheldon's regiment of light-horse, the name of Arnold struck his ear. The soldier was ordered to the front: he was a fine looking fellow; his horse and equipments in excellent order. "Change your name, brother-soldier; you are too respectable to bear the name of a traitor." "What name shall I take, general?" "Take any other name; mine is at your service."' Most cheerfully was the offer accepted, and his name was entered on the roll as Steuben. He or his children now enjoy land given to him in the town of Steuben by the baron. This brave soldier met him after the war. "I am well settled, general," said he, "and have a wife and son; I have called my son after you, sir." "I thank you, my friend. What name have you given the boy?" "I called him Baron what else could I call him?"
The baron's office as inspector did not preclude him the privilege of command in the line according to his rank, and at one period he was commander of a separate detachment in Virginia, to oppose the ravages of the enemy in that quarter. It was with great difficulty that men could be procured for the service; every man was considered as an acquisition. The baron was too honest to suffer, an imposition to be practised on the public. A regiment had been collected, and was paraded on the point of marching, when a well-looking man on horseback, and as it appeared his servant on another, rode up and informed the baron that be had brought him a recruit. "I thank you, sir," said the baron, "with all my heart; you have arrived in a happy moment. Where is your man, colonel?" - for he was colonel in the militia. "Here, sir" ordering his boy to dismount. The baron's countenance changed; his aids saw and feared the approaching storm. A sergeant was ordered to measure the lad, whose shoes when off discovered something by which his stature had been increased. The baron, patting the child's head with his hand, trembling with rage, asked him how old he was? He was very young - quite a child. "'Sir," said he to the militia colonel, "you must have supposed me to be a rascal." "Oh! no, baron, I did not," "Then, sir, I suppose you to be a rascal, an infamous rascal, thus to attempt to cheat your country. Sergeant, take off this fellow's spurs, and place him in the ranks, that we may have a man able to serve, instead of an infant whom he would basely have made his substitute! Go, my boy; take the colonel's spurs and horse to his wife; make my compliments, and say, her husband has gone to fight for the freedom of his country, as an honest man should do!" And instantly ordered, "Platoons! to the right, wheel! forward march!" Colonel Gaskins, who commanded the regiment, fearing the consequences, after marching some distance, allowed the man to escape, who immediately made application to the civil authority for redress; but Governor Jefferson, Mr. Madison, and others, not doubting the purity of the baron's motive, and fully appreciating his honest zeal, prevented any disagreeable results attending this high-handed exertion of military power. At the siege of Yorktown the baron was in the trenches at the head of his division, and received the first overture of Lord Cornwallis to capitulate. At the relieving hour next morning, the Marquis de Ia Fayette approached at the head of his division, to relieve him. The baron refused to quit the trenches, assigning as a reason the etiquette in Europe, that the offer to capitulate had been made during his tour of duty, and that it was a point of honor of which he would not deprive his troops to remain in the trenches till the capitulation was signed or hostilities recommenced. The dispute was referred to the commander-in-chief, and the baron was permitted to remain till the British flag was struck. While on this duty the baron, perceiving himself in danger from a shell thrown from the enemy, threw himself suddenly into the trench; General Wayne, in the jeopardy and hurry of themoment, fell on him; the baron, turning his eyes, saw it was his brigadier. "I always knew you were brave, general," said he; "but I did not know you were so perfect in every point of duty: you cover your general's retreat in the best manner possible.
"I have great delight," says Major Garden, "in relating an anecdote which I received from General Walter Stewart; the truth of which may be relied on." After the capture of Yorktown, the superior officers of the allied army vied with each other in acts of civility and attention to the captive Britons. Lord Cornwallis and his family were particularly distinguished. Entertainments were given in succession by all the major-generals, with the exception of Baron Steuben. He alone withheld an invitation, not from a wish to be particular, nor that his heart was closed to the attentions due to misfortunes. His soul was superior to prejudice; and, as a soldier, he tenderly sympathized in their fate, while poverty denied the means of displaying that liberality towards them which had been shown by others. Such was his situation when, calling on Colonel Stewart, and informing him of his intention to entertain the British commander-in-chief, he requested that he would advance him a sum of money as the price of his favorite charger. "'Tis a good beast," said the baron, " and has proved a faithful servant through all the dangers of the war; but, though painful to my heart, we must part." Colonel Stewart, to prevent a step that he knew must be attended with great loss, and still greater inconvenience, immediately tendered his purse, recommending, should the sum it contained prove insufficient, the sale or pledge of his watch. "My dear friend," said the baron, "tis already sold. Poor North was sick and wanted necessaries. He is a brave fellow, and possesses the best of hearts. The trifle it brought is set apart for his use. My horse must go; so no more, I beseech you, to turn me from my purpose. I am a major-general in the service of the United States, and my private convenience must not be put in the scale with the duty which my rank calls on me imperiously to perform." A very friendly intercourse subsisted between the officers of the French army and those of our own, and dining invitations could not always be reciprocated on our part for want of the means "I can stand it no longer," said the baron; "we are continually dining with these gentlemen,and such is our penury that, except at head-quarters, they receive return no invitations in return. "Take," said he to one of his people, "take the silver spoons and forks and sell them; it is not republican to eat with silver forks and it is the part of a gentleman to pay his debts. They shall have one good dinner, if I eat my soup with a wooden spoon for ever after."
The baron returned to the northward, and remained with the army, continually employed till the peace in perfecting his discipline. The adroitness, and, above all, the silence with which his manoeuvres were performed, was remarked with astonishment by the officers of the French army. The Marquis de la Val de Montmorency, a brigadier-general, said to the baron, "I admire the celerity and exactitude with which your men perform, but what I cannot conceive is the profound silence with which they manoeuvre." "I don't know, Monsieur le Marquis, whence noise should proceed, when even my brigadiers dare not open their months but to repeat the orders."
The French troops were exceedingly loud in their evolutions and marches, and Mons. la Val at all times louder than the rest. On a subsequent occasion, designed to show the high degree of expertness at which our officers and soldiers had arrived, the ~ baron was asked by one of the French generals what manoeuvres he intended to perform. On being informed, "Yes," replied the French chief, "I have seen particularly the last you mention performed by the Prussians in Silesia, but with a very complex addition," which he explained. "But you will recollect, general, that we are not quite Prussians." After his guests had retired, the baron said, "I will let these Frenchmen know that we can do what the Prussians can, and what their army cannot do. I will save those gentlemen who have not been in Silesia the trouble of going there; they may come to Verplank's Point next week for instruction." They came, chiefs and subalterns, and every thing was done in the finest style, to their real or pretended admiration. Here General North indulges his honorable feelings in the following apostrophe: "Alas! when I think of time past, of that day, and look to that eminence on which General Washington's marquee was pitched, in front of which stood that great man, firm in the consciousness of virtue, surrounded by French nobles and the chiefs of his own army; when I cast my eyes, then lighted up with soldierly ambition, hope and joy, along that lengthened line, my brothers all! endeared by ties made strong by full communion in many a miserable, many a joyous hour, my heart sinks at the view! Who, how few of all that brilliant host, is left; these few are tottering on the, cofines of the grave! The baron's tent that day was filled, and more than filled, with Frenchmen. 'I am glad,' said he, 'to pay some part of the dinner debt we owe our allies.'" "On the eve of returning to the northward from Virginia," continues General North, "I was sick, and unable to accompany the baron: he divided his purse with me, the whole contents of which were two half-joes; his watch and silver spoons and forks, brought from Germany, were already disposed of. "I must, go,' said the baron; 'I must leave you, my son; but I leave you among a people where we have found the door of every every house wide open; where the heart of every female is full of tenderness and virtue. Quit this deleterious spot, the instant you are able; there is my sulkey, and here is half of what I have. God bless you! I can no more.' Nor could he: the feelings of friends in such a moment, and under such circumstances, may possibly be conceived, but not expressed. A journey of three hundred miles was before him; a single piece of gold in his purse. Are other instances necessary to unfold the texture of his heart? - how many have I written on my own! There is, I trust, a book in which they, every one of them, are entered, to the credit of his account with Heaven."
General Washington had a high esteem for the baron, and was fully sensible of his worth and merits. On all proper occasions Congress were urged in his behalf, and from time to time he received of money, good and bad, sums which some narrow-minded men thought much too large, though he proved satisfactorily that he had given up a salary of five hundred and eighty guineas a year in Europe. But what sums - how much - could have been enough for one who searched around for worthy, objects, whose wants might be relieved? "Never did a review or an inspection pass without rewards in money to soldiers whose arms were in the highest order. Never was his table unfilled with guests if furnished with provisions. Officers of rank, men most prominent for knowledge and attention to their duty, were marked for invitation; but the gentlemen of his family were desired to complete the list with others of inferior grade. 'Poor fellows,' said he, 'they have field officers' stomachs, without their rations."'
The baron was rough as the ocean in a storm when great faults were committed; but if, in a sudden gust of passion, he had injured, the redress was ample. I recollect that at a review near Morristown, a Lieutenant Gibbons, a brave and good officer, was arrested on the spot, and ordered into the rear, for a fault which it afterwards appeared another had committed. At a proper moment, the commander of the regiment came forward, and informed the baron of Mr. Gibbons' innocence, of his worth, and of his acute feelings under this unmerited disgrace. "Desire Lieutenant Gibbons to come to the front, colonel." "Sir," said the baron, to the young gentleman, "the fault which was made, by throwing the line into confusion, might, in the presence of an enemy, have been fatal. I arrested you as its supposed author, but I have reason to believe that I was mistaken, and that in this instance you were blameless; I ask your pardon: return to your command; I would not deal unjustly by any, much less by one whose character as an officer is so respectable." All this passed with the baron's hat off, the rain pouring on his venerable head! - Do you think there was an officer, a soldier who saw it, unmoved by affection and respect? Not one.
In the company of ladies, the baron always appeared to peculiar advantage. At the house of the respectable Mrs. Livingston, mother of the late Chancellor, where virtue, talent, and modest worth of every kind met a welcome reception, the baron was introduced to a Miss Sheaf, an amiable and interesting young lady. "I am very happy," said he, "in the honor of being presented to you, mademoiselle, though I see it is at an infinite risk; I have from my youth been cautioned to guard myself against mischief, but I had no idea that her attractions were so powerful."
Dining at head-quarters with Robert Morris, Esq., and other gentlemen, Mr. Morris complained bitterly of the miserable state of the treasury. "Why," said the baron, "are you not financier? - why do you not continue to create funds?" "I have done all I can; it is not possible for me to do more.," "But you remain financier, though without finances?" " Yes." "Well, then, I do not-think you are so honest a man as my cook. He came to me one day at Valley Forge, and said "Baron, I am your cook, and you have nothing to cook but a piece of lean beef, which is hung up by a string before the fire. Your negro wagoner can turn the string and do as well as I can. You have promised me ten dollars a month; but as you have nothing to cook, I wish to be discharged, and not longer be chargeable to you, 'That is an honest fellow, Morris."
Though never perfectly master of our language, the baron understood and spoke it with sufficient correctness. He would sometimes on purpose miscall names, and blend or adopt words similar in sound, dissimilar in meaning. Dining, at head-quarters, which he did frequently, Mrs. Washington asked what amusement he had recourse to now that the certainty of peace had relaxed his labors? "I read, my lady, and write, and chess, and yesterday for the first time I went a fishing. My gentlemen told me it was a very fine business to catch fish , and I did not know but that this new trade might, by and by, be useful to me - but I fear I never can succeed - I sat, in the boat three hours, it was exceedingly warm, and I caught only two fish; they told me it was fine sport." " What kind of fish did you take, baron?" "I am not sure, my lady, but I believe one of them was a whale." "A whale, baron, in the North river!" "Yes, I assure you, a very fine whale, my lady - it was a whale, was it not?" appealing to one of his aids. "An eel, baron." "I beg your pardon,, my, lady, but that gentleman certainly told me it was a whale." General Washington, now that his mind was comparatively at ease, enjoyed a pleasantry of this kind highly.
For the proper understanding of the following bon mot of General Washington, it must he mentioned that at Tatawa falls there was a miserable, deformed object who had lain in his cradle for twenty-seven years. His head was eighteen inches in length, and the rest of his body twenty-seven inches. He received numerous visitors, among whom was his excellency, who asked him whether he was a Whig or tory? He answered, as he had been taught, that he had never taken an active part on either side. "A worthy gentleman and lady came out of New York after the preliminaries of peace were signed, to visit their friends, and resided in the neighborhood of Baron Steuben by whom the whole party, together with his excellency and lady, were invited to dine. 'It is proper,' said the baron, 'that your excellency should be apprised that Mr.******and his lady from New York are to dine with me, and perhaps, sir, you may not choose to meet Mr. ******.' 'Oh, baron,' said the general, laughing, 'there is no difficulty on that point. Mr. ****** is very like the big-headed boy at Tatawa, he never has taken an active part.' This was allowed to be a most adroit coup de sabre by those who knew the gentleman, though it is doubted whether, if he had heard it, he would have felt the stroke."
"At the disbandment of the revolutionary army, when inmates of the same tent, or hut, for seven long years, were separating, and probably for ever; grasping each other's hand, in silent agony, I saw the baron's strong endeavors to throw some ray of sunshine on the gloom to mix some drop of cordial with the painful draught. To go, they knew not whither; all recollection of the art to thrive by civil occupations lost, or to the youthful never known. Their hard earned military knowledge worse than useless, and with their badge of brotherhood, a mark at which to point the finger of suspicion - ignoble, vile suspicion! - to be cast out on a world, long since by them forgotten. Severed from friends, and all the joys and griefs which soldiers feel! Griefs while hope remained - when shared by numbers, almost joys! To go in silence and alone, and poor and hopeless; it was too hard! On that sad day, how many hearts were wrung! I saw it all, nor will the scene be ever blurred or blotted from my view. To a stern old officer, a Lieutenant- Colonel Cochran, from the Green Mountains, who had met danger and difficulty almost in every step from his youth, and from whose furrowed visage a tear till that moment had never fallen; the good baron said - what could be said to lessen deep distress. 'For myself' said Cochran, 'I care not - I can stand it; but my wife and daughters are in the garret of that wretched tavern. I know not where to remove, nor have I means for their removal!' 'Come, my friend,' said the baron, 'let us go - I will pay my respects to Mrs. Cochran and your daughters, if you please.' I followed to the loft, the lower rooms being all filled with soldiers, with drunkenness, despair and blasphemy. And when the baron left the poor unhappy cast-aways, he left hope with them, , and all he had to give." "A black man, with wounds unhealed, wept on the wharf (for it was at Newburgh where this tragedy was acting): there was a vessel in the stream, bound to the place where he once had friends. He had not a dollar to pay his passage, and he could not walk. Unused to tears, I saw them trickle down this good man's cheeks as he put into the hands of the black man the last doIlar, he possessed. The negro hailed the sloop, and cried, 'God Almighty bless you, master baron!'
"What good and honorable man, civil or military, before the accursed party-spirit murdered friendships, did not respect and love the baron? Who most? Those who knew him best. After the peace, the baron retired to a farm in the vicinity of New York, where, with forming a system for the organization and discipline of the militia, books, chess, and the frequent visits of his numerous friends, he passed his time as agreeably as a frequent want of funds would permit. The state of New Jersey had given him a small improved farm, and the state of New York gave him a tract of sixteen thousand acres of land in the county of Oneida. After the general government was in full operation, by the exertions of Colonel Hamilton, patronized and enforced by President Washington, a grant of two thousand five hundred dollars per annum was made to him for life. The summers were now chiefly spent on his land, and his winters in the city. His sixteen thousand acres of land were in the uncultivated wilderness; he built a convenient log house, cleared sixty acres, parceled out his land on easy terms to twenty or thirty tenants, distributed nearly a tenth of the tract in gifts to his aids-de-camp and servants, , and sat himself down to a certain degree contented without society, except that of a young gentleman, who read to and with him. He ate only at dinner, but he ate with strong appetite. In drinking, he was always temperate; indeed, he was free from every vicious habit. His powers of mind and body were strong, and he received to a certain extent a liberal education. His days were undoubtedly shortened by his sedentary mode of life. He was seized with an apoplexy, which in a few hours was fatal. Agreeably to his desire, often expressed, he was wrapped in his cloak, placed in a plain coffin, and hid in the earth without a stone to tell where he lies. A few neighbors, his servants, the young gentleman his late companion, and one on whom for fifteen years his countenance never ceased to beam with kindness, followed to the grave. It was in a thick, a lonely wood; but, in a few years after, a public highway was opened near or over the hallowed sod! Colonel Walker snatched the poor remains of his dear friend from sacrilegious violation, and gave a bounty to protect the grave in which he laid them from rude and impious intrusion. He died in 1795, in the sixty-fifth year of his age.
"Some few years previous to the baron's death, a pious gentleman of the city of New York, who had a great affection for him, told me, with strong marks of joy, that they had passed the evening and a part of the last night together, that the baron confessed his full belief in Jesus Christ, with sure and certain hope, through him, of a blessed immortality. 'From the life our dear friend has led in camps and in the gay world,' said the good man, I feared; and you do not know what joy I feel in the belief that he will be well to all eternity!' The baron was a member of the Reformed German Church, in New York."
General North, from the impulse of his own affectionate and grateful feelings, erected a handsome monument with an appropriate inscription in the Reformed German Church in New York to the memory of his illustrious patron and friend, and these pages accord with the views of that memorial in transmitting to posterity a renowned hero, whose name and invaluable labors should never be forgotten.
What remained of the baron's estate, excepting one thousand dollars and his library, which he willed to a youth whose father had rendered essential service in the war, and whose education he generously charged himself with, was bequeathed to his two affectionate aids-de-camp.
HOME PAGETHE name and character of this illustrious French nobleman, will occupy a conspicuous place in our revolutionary annals, and be honored by posterity, no less for his enthusiastic love of liberty than for his heroism and military renown. There is something truly romantic in the history of this celebrated personage. In the year 1776, at the immature age of nineteen, he espoused the cause of the Americans, and nobly resolved to afford our country all possible as I assistance by his personal services and influence. At this era the affairs of America Were bordering on despair, and were represented in France as so deplorable that it might be supposed sufficient to repress the most determined zeal. Reports were propagated in that country that our army, reduced to a mere rabble, Was flying before an army of thirty thousand regulars, nor was this very wide from the reality. In consequence of this, our commissioners found it impossible to procure a vessel to convey the marquis and their own despatches to Congress; they could not therefore feel justified in encouraging his bold contemplated enterprise. This embarrassment, however, had the effect of increasing rather than of restraining his youthful ardor and heroism. He imparted to the commissioners his determination to purchase and fit out a vessel to convey himself and their despatches to America. This project was deemed so extraordinary and important, that it did not fail to engage universal attention. The French court had not then declared even a friendly intention towards America, but, on the contrary, was extremely cautious of giving offence to the British government. Orders were therefore given prohibiting the departure of this nobleman, and vessels were even despatched to the West Indies to intercept him, in case he should take that route. The marquis was well apprised that he exposed himself to the loss of his fortune by the laws of France; and that, should he fall into the hands of the English on his passage, he would be liable to a confinement of uncertain duration, and without a prospect of being exchanged. These considerations however, did not deter him from the attempt; and, bidding adieu to his amiable consort and numerous endeared connexions, and trusting to good fortune to favor his elopement, he embarked, and in due time arrived safe in Charleston, in the summer of 1776. He landed soon after the noble defence made by General Moultrie at the fort on Sullivan's island. Charmed with the gallantry displayed by that general and his brave troops, the marquis presented him with clothing, arms and accoutrements for one hundred men. He met with a cordial reception from our Congress, and they immediately accepted his proffered services. He insisted that he would receive no compensation, and that he would commence his services as a volunteer. This noble philanthropist was received into the family of the commander-in-chief where a strong mutual attachment was contracted, and he has often been called the adopted son of Washington. July 31st, 1777, Congress resolved, that, "Whereas the Marquis de la Fayette, out of his great zeal to the cause of liberty in which the United States are engaged, has left his family and connexions, and at his own expense come over to offer his services to the United States without pension or particular allowance, and is anxious to risk his life in our cause - Resolved, That his service be accepted, and that, in consideration of his zeal, illustrious family and connexions, he have the rank and commission of major-general in the army of the United States."
At the battle of Brandywine, September, 1777, the marquis exhibited full proof of his undaunted bravery and military character, and received a wound in his leg. In May, 1777, with a select corps of two thousand five hundred men, he crossed the Schuylkill, and took post about twelve miles in front of our army at Valley Forge. A Quaker, in whose house he was to lodge, sent information to the enemy, who formed an instantaneous design of surprising him. General Gray, on the night of the 19th of May, marched with seven thousand men, and by a skillful movement got into the marquis' rear, while another detachment was advancing to his front. The marquis fortunately gained intelligence of their approach, and, by a prompt decision effected his retreat, and recrossed the river in season to defeat the design of the enemy. Had they succeeded, it must not only have proved fatal to the marquis and his detachment, but placed the remainder of our army in a situation of extreme hazard. In August, 1778, the marquis repaired to Rhode Island, to assist in the expedition under Major-General Sullivan, in conjunction with the French fleet, and he received the particular approbation and applause of Congress for his judicious and highly important services. In January, 1779, the marquis embarked at Boston, on a voyage to France and was subjected to imminent danger from a conspiracy among the sailors, a great part of whom were British. He returned in May, 1780, bringing the joyful intelligence that a French fleet and army would soon arrive on our coast. Through his great zeal for the cause of the United 'States, he exerted his influence with his government, no longer fearful of giving offence to the English, to afford money and troops and other important succors. He was soon put at the head of a select corps of light-infantry for the service of the campaign. This afforded him a new opportunity for the display of his munificence. He presented to every officer under his command an elegant sword, and his soldiers were clothed in uniform, principally at his expense. He infused into this corps a spirit of pride and emulation, viewing it as one formed and modeled according to his own wishes, and as deserving his highest confidence. They were the pride of his heart and he the idol of their regard; constantly panting for an opportunity of accomplishing some signal achievement worthy of his and their character. This corps was pronounced equal to any that could be produced in any country. In December, 1780, he marched with one thousand two hundred light-infantry for Virginia, to counteract the devastations of Arnold and Phillips; He made a forced march of two hundred miles, and prevented General Phillips' possessing himself of Richmond, and secured the stores of that place. At one period there was not a single pair of shoes in his whole command, and such was his zeal and generous spirit, and such the confidence and respect of the people, that be was enabled to borrow of the merchants of Baltimore two thousand guineas on his own credit, with which he purchased shoes and other necessary articles for his troops. The mar quis was employed in watching the motions of Lord Cornwallis in Virginia, with an inferior force; in this arduous duty he displayed the judgment, skill, and prudence of a veteran, with the ardor of youth. In a skirmish near Jamestown, not a man in the whole detachment was more exposed, and one of his horses was killed.
Lord Cornwallis having encamped near Jamestown, the Marquis La Fayette sent General Wayne with the Pennsylvania troops to take their station within a small distance of the British army, and watch their motions. The two advanced parties were soon engaged, and General Wayne drove that of the enemy back to their lines; and, without stopping there, attacked the whole British army, drawn up in order of battle, and charged them with bayonets. The action was extremely severe for the little time it lasted, but the disproportion of numbers was so great, that the enemy was on the point of surrounding our troops, when the marquis arrived in person, just time enough to order a retreat, by which they were rescued from their hazardous situation after suffering considerable loss.
General Henry Lee, in his Memoirs of the War in the Southern States, eulogizes the character and conduct of La Fayette, when compelled to fly before the British commander, in the following language: "In this period of gloom, of disorder and of peril, La Fayette was collected and undismayed. With zeal, with courage, and with sagacity, he discharged his arduous duties; and, throughout his difficult retreat, was never brought even to array but once in order for battle. - Invigorating our councils by his precepts; dispelling our despondency by his example; and encouraging his troops to submit to their many privations, by the cheerfulness with which he participated in their wants; he imparted the energy of his own mind to the country, and infused his high-toned spirit into the army."
Great encomiums were passed on the marquis for his humanity and goodness in visiting and administering to the relief of the wounded soldiers. Lord Cornwallis having received a reinforcement, was so confident of success against his young antagonist, that he imprudently said in a letter which was intercepted, "the boy cannot escape me." He planned the surprise of the marquis while on the same side of James river with himself ; but in this he was baffled by means of a spy, whom the marquis sent into the enemy's camp to obtain some necessary intelligence. A combination of talents and skill defeated all the energies of physical power. During the siege of Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown, the marquis was among the most active and intrepid of the general officers, and he commanded a detachment of our light-infantry, which successfully assaulted the British redoubt on the right of our lines. Previous to his departure from Yorktown, he issued his last orders to his favorite corps of infantry, in which are contained the following expressions: "In the moment the major-general leaves this place, he wishes once more to express his gratitude to the brave corps of light-infantry, who for nine months past have been the companions of his fortunes. He will never forget that, with them alone, of regular troops, he had the good fortune to manoeuvre before, an army which after all its reductions is still six times superior to the regular force be had at that time."
The marquis now perceiving that the mighty contest for American independence, in which he had been so nobly engaged, was near its completion, was about to return with the well-earned laurels on his brow to his king and country. Congress resolved, November 23d, 1781, "that major-general the Marquis de la Fayette be informed that on a review of his conduct throughout the past campaign, and particularly during the period in which he had chief command in Virginia , the many new proofs which present themselves of his zealous attachment to the cause he has espoused, and of his judgment, vigilance, gallantry and address in its defence, have greatly added to the high opinion entertained by Congress of his merit and military talents."
During his military career in America, the marquis displayed that patriotism, integrity, humanity, and other virtue which characterize real greatness of soul. His manners being easy, affable and engaging, he was particularly endeared to the officers and soldiers under his command; they admired, loved, and revered him as their guide and support when in peril, and their warmest friend when in perplexity and trouble. The most affectionate attachment subsisted between him and the illustrious chief under whose banners it was his delight to serve, and whose language was " This noble unites to all the military fire of youth, an uncommon maturity of judgment."
His very soul burned with the spirit of enterprise, and he manifested a disinterestedness and devotion to the cause of freedom, ever to be admired and applauded by a grateful people. He ever discovered , both in design and execution, those traits of genius, and that intuitive knowledge of tactics, which designate the great man and the successful warrior. The people of the United States are fully apprised of their high obligations to him, and their history will transmit the name of La Fayette with grateful acknowledgments to the latest posterity. It is gratifying to learn that Congress granted him a valuable tract of land, as a compensation in part for his disinterested patriotism and important services.
When in December, 1784, the marquis was about
to take his final departure from America, Congress appointed
a committee, consisting of one member from each state, to receive
him, and in the name of Congress to take leave of him in such
manner as might strongly manifest their esteem and regard for
him. That they be instructed to assure him that Congress continue
to entertain the same high sense of his abilities and zeal to
promote the welfare of America, both here and in Europe, which
they have frequently expressed and manifested on former occasions.
That the United States regard him with particular affection,
and will not cease to feel an interest in whatever may concern
his honor and prosperity, and that their best and kindest wishes
will always attend him. Congress resolved also that a letter
be written to his Most Christian Majesty, expressive of the high
sense which the United States, in Congress assembled, entertain
of the zeal, talents, and meritorious services of the Marquis
de la Fayette, and recommending him to the favor and patronage
of his majesty. The marquis made a very respectful and affectionate
reply, in which he expressed the lively feelings of a heart devoted
to the welfare of our rising empire, and gratefully acknowledged
that, at a time when an inexperienced youth, he was favored with
his respected friend's paternal adoption. He thus concludes his
address:
"May this immense temple of freedom ever stand as a lesson
to oppressors, an example to the oppressed, a sanctuary for the
rights of mankind; and may these happy United States attain that
complete splendor and prosperity which will illustrate the blessings
of their government, and for ages to come rejoice the departed
souls of its founders. Never can Congress oblige me so much as
when they put it in my power in every part of the world to the
latest day of my life to gratify the attachment which will ever
rank me among the most zealous and respectful servants of the
United States."
HOME PAGEMAJOR-GENERAL HORATIO GATES.
GENERAL GATES was a native of England, and was educated to the military profession. He was an officer under the unfortunate Braddock, in the expedition against Fort du Quesne, in the year 1755, and who, after receiving a dangerous wound, was, with the illustrious Washington, among the few officers who escaped with life on that memorable occasion. When the American colonies were forced to assume a hostile attitude, Gates had been for some time a resident in Virginia, and having evinced his zeal and attachment to the violated rights of his adopted country, and sustaining a high military reputation, he was by Congress appointed adjutant-general, with the rank of brigadier, and he accompanied General Washington to our camp at Cambridge, in July, 1775. On the retreat of our forces from Canada, the chief command in that department was conferred on him in June, 1776. He continued the retreat of our army from Crown Point to Ticonderoga, which did not fully accord with the views of Congress and the commander-in-chief. The British forces having retired to winter-quarters in Canada, Gates marched with a detachment of his command, and joined the main army in Jersey, in the autumn of that year. His sphere of action was not brilliant or splendid, till his mighty achievement in the capture of Burgoyne, at Saratoga; nor is he justly and exclusively entitled to the full measure of applause acquired by that most glorious victory; the magnanimous General Schuyler,* whom he superseded in command, had, by his indefatigable industry, and almost unprecedented labors, raised the most formidable impediments to the march of Burgoyne, which tended more than is generally imagined to facilitate the conquest made by the northern army.
*MAJOR-GENERAL PHILIP SCHUYLER. - It has been observed that neither history nor biography has rendered justice to this highly meritorious character. He possessed a clear understanding, a strong mind, a humane and generous disposition. No individual could have contributed more largely, by his vigilance and efficiency, to augment the obstacles to the march of the British army to Fort Edward. His name should be enrolled with the renowned band of military patriots and heroes, that posterity may know the eminent services which his splendid talents conferred on his country.
When General Gates succeeded to the command of the northern army, August, 1777, Generals Schuyler and St. Clair were suffering, though most unjustly, the public odium by the evacuation of Ticonderoga, and their successor in command was in high repute and confidence with his officers and soldiers. Burgoyne's right wing, under St. Leger had been cut off at Fort Stanwix, and his left at Bennington, by General Stark. Our army was daily increasing in numbers, and considerably exceeded the strength of the enemy, and our troops were greatly invigorated with courage, and determined on victory. Every circumstance, in fact, was auspicious to a successful issue. Burgoyne still perceived that, in proportion as he advanced, obstacles multiplied on every side. Having at length surmounted almost insuperable difficulties, he passed the Hudson, and advanced to Saratoga. Gates also advanced to Stillwater, and boldly faced his formidable foe; and on the 19th of September, a sanguinary conflict ensued. Both parties firm and unyielding, both attained the high honors of the brave, but neither bore the palm of a complete victory from the field. While Burgoyne's loss was irretrievable, the force and the ardor of his antagonist were continually augmenting. Every day's delay now increased the heavy embarrassments of Burgoyne, while time threw additional advantages into the hands of his spirited opponent; till at length it became obvious that retreat or victory was his unavoidable alternative; but, on trial, it was resolved, to his utter dismay, that neither resource was at his command. On the 7th of October, the two opposing armies rushed again to the field of slaughter, and both were satiated with blood and carnage. The British army were repulsed in every direction, and its commander was led to the painful conviction that a more disastrous fate awaited him. Burgoyne, now driven to the brink of despair - his forces disabled, his provisions exhausted, and a victorious adversary opposing him in front - resolved on a rapid retreat, but on exploring the route, behold, his adversary was there!
The dreaded crisis had now arrived, when a capitulation was alone practicable. Articles not very dishonorable to the vanquished enemy were acceded to, and General Gates enjoyed the ineffable satisfaction of receiving in submission the once-victorious chief. To the honor of General Gates, it is mentioned that the captured troops were directed to a sequestered spot to ground their arms, that their feelings might not be wounded in the presence of our army, though it deprived the latter of satisfaction in which they were justly entitled to participate. An interesting narrative of the first interview between the victor and the captured officers is thus given by Adjutant-General Wilkinson: "General Burgoyne proposed to be introduced to General Gates, and we crossed the Fishkill, and proceeded to head-quarters on horseback, General Burgoyne in front with his Adjutant-General Kingston, and his aids-de-camp, Captain Lord Petersham and Lieutenant Wilford, behind him; then followed Major-General Phillips, the Baron Reidesel, and the other general officers, and their suites according to rank. General Gates, advised of Burgoyne's approach, met him at the head of his camp - Burgoyne in a rich royal uniform, and Gates in a plain blue frock. When they approached nearly within sword's length, they reined up and halted. I then named the gentlemen, and General Burgoyne, raising his hat most gracefully, said, 'The fortune of war, General Gates, has made me your prisoner;' to which the conqueror, returning a courtly salute, promptly replied, I shall always, be ready to bear testimony that it has not been through any fault of your excellency.' Major-General Phillips then advanced, and he and General Gates saluted, and shook hands with the familiarity of old acquaintances. The Baron Reidesel and other officers Were introduced in their turn."
General Gates was remarkable for his humanity to prisoners, and a desire, to mitigate the sufferings of the unfortunate. Among the objects in distress who claimed his attention was Lady Ackland, whose husband was wounded and captured during the battle of the 7th of October. General Gates bestowed on her the care and tenderness of a parent. In reply to a letter from General Burgoyne in her behalf, he says: "The respect due to her ladyship's rank, the tenderness due to her person and sex, were sufficient recommendations to entitle her to my protection. I am surprised that your excellency should, think that I could consider the greatest attention to Lady, Ackland in the light of an obligation. "
General Gates received the thanks of Congress, and a gold medal, as a memorial of their gratitude. Great was the credit which he acquired by this momentous event, universal joy pervaded the country, and all ranks were ready to vie with each other in their homage to the fortunate conqueror. It was not long after, that the wonderful discovery was supposed to be made, that the illustrious Washington was incompetent to the task of conducting the operations of the American army, and that General Gates, if elevated to the important station of commander-in-chief, would speedily meliorate the condition of our affairs. A discontented party in Congress, with a few interested individuals in our army, constituted the faction hostile to the saviour of his country. General Gates himself was strongly suspected of more than a passive acquiescence, and there were those who imputed to him a principal agency in the affair, which, however, he promptly disavowed. Had the project succeeded, it, would in alI probability have sealed the ruin of our army and sacrificed the glorious cause of our country. But all the eclat which General Gates had acquired, and all the splendor of his name, were insufficient to proselyte a single officer to his interest. He was not endowed with that dignity and with those illustrious qualities which were requisite to command the confidence and reverence of the army as the successor of the much-beloved Washington. I am assured by Governor Brooks that, being in company with a number of respectable officers at Valley Forge when the subject was canvassed, General Weedon, of Virginia, with great vehemence declared, that should General Gates be preferred to the chief command, he never would serve under him, but would absolutely resign his commission and quit the service, and all present were in unison with him in opinion.
A private correspondence was maintained between the intriguing General Conway and General Gates, criticising and reprobating the measures pursued by General Washington, and in one of Conway's letters he ascribes our want of success to a weak general and bad counsellors. General Gates, on finding that General Washington had been apprised of this correspondence, addressed his excellency, requesting that be would disclose the name of his informant; and, extraordinary as it may appear, in violation of the rules of decorum, he addressed the commander-in-chief on a subject of extreme delicacy in an open letter, transmitted to the President of Congress. His pretence was, that some of the members of that body might aid in detecting the person who made the communication. General Washington, however, made no hesitancy in disclosing the name and the circumstances which brought the affair to light. General Gates then, with inexcusable disingenuousness, attempted to vindicate the conduct of Conway, and to deny that his letter contained the reprehensible expressions in question, but utterly refused to produce the original letter. This subject, however, was so ably and candidly discussed by General Washington as to cover his adversary with shame and humiliation, and he was glad to discontinue the investigation. It was thought to be inexcusable in General Gates that he neglected to communicate to the commander-in-chief an account of so important an event as the capture of the British army at Saratoga, but left his excellency to obtain information by common report. In November, 1777, Congress having new-modeled the board of war, appointed General Gates the president, and he entered on the duties of the office, but retained his rank in the army. The subject of this sketch was destined to experience, in a remarkable manner, the humiliating vicissitudes of fortune. He had the conducting of the most prosperous and the most disastrous of the military enterprises in the war. In June, 1780, General Gates was by Congress vested with the chief command of our army in the Southern States. In a general battle at Camden,* August 15th, being the first and only encounter which he had with Lord Cornwallis, he suffered a total defeat, and was obliged to fly from the enemy for personal safety; and thus was the prediction of General Lee, when Gates was vested with the command, that his Northern laurels would be exchanged for Southern willows, verified. It would, however, be great injustice to attribute the misfortune altogether to