General Officers appointed—Washington repairs to Cambridge—State of the Army—Great want of Gunpowder—Sickness in the Camp—Dorchester heights fortified—Proposal of the British General to attack the American Intrenchments—Alters his plan, and evacuates Boston—Embarkation of the British—Washington enters the city.
Having elected a commander-in-chief, congress proceeded to the selection of other experienced officers.—Artimas Ward, Charles Lee, and Philip Schuyler, were appointed major-generals, and Horatio Gates adjutant-general. These appointments were followed, a few days after, by that of eight brigadier-generals: Seth Pomeroy, William Heath, and John Thomas, of Massachusetts; Richard Montgomery, of New York; David Wooster and Joseph Spencer, of Connecticut; John Sullivan, of New Hampshire; and Nathaniel Greene, of Rhode Island.
In July, Washington, accompanied by General Lee, repaired to the camp near Boston; receiving, on his journey thither, the highest honors from the most distinguished citizens. On making a review of the army, soon after his arrival, he found an immense multitude, of whom only fourteen thousand five hundred were in a condition fit for service. But even these, in respect to uniform, equipment, and discipline, exhibited a variety most disheartening and painful to a commander. As to discipline, it scarcely existed. The subordinate officers were without emulation; and the privates, having been unaccustomed to the rules and regulations of a camp, were impatient of all subordination.
Fortunately, the newly-appointed generals soon arrived, and with great alacrity betook themselves to the task of reform. General Gates, who was versed in the details of military organization, exerted a powerful influence in this salutary work. In a short period, the camp presented an improved aspect. The soldiers became accustomed to obedience; regulations were observed; each began to know his duty; and, at length, instead of a mass of irregular militia, the camp presented the spectacle of a properly-disciplined army. It was divided into three corps: the right, under the command of Ward, occupied Roxbury; the left, conducted by Lee, defended Prospect hill; and the center, which comprehended a select corps, destined for reserve, was stationed at Cambridge, where Washington himself had established his head-quarters. The circumvallation was fortified by so great a number of redoubts, and supplied with so formidable an artillery, that it had become impossible for the besieged to assault Cambridge, and spread themselves in the open country. It was believed, also, that they had lost a great many men, as well upon the field of battle as in consequence of wounds and disease.
Another material deficiency was the want of gunpowder. In the depositories at Roxbury, Cambridge, and other places, there were found to be only ninety-six barrels; the magazines of Massachusetts contained but thirty-six more; and, after adding to this quantity all that New Hampshire, Rhode Island, and Connecticut could furnish, the amount fell short of ten thousand pounds, which allowed only nine charges to a man. In this scarcity and danger, the army remained more than fifteen days; during which time, had the English attacked them, they might easily have forced the lines, and raised the siege. At length, by the exertions of the committee of New Jersey, a few tons of powder arrived at the camp, which supplied for the moment the necessities of the army, and averted the evils that were feared.
The providing of gunpowder had now become an important, and even an essential consideration. Accordingly, it was recommended, by a resolution of congress, that all the colonies should put themselves, in a state of defence, and provide themselves with the greatest possible number of men, of arms, and of munitions; and, especially, that they should make diligent search for saltpetre and sulphur. An exact scrutiny was therefore commenced, in the cellars and in the stables, in pursuit of materials so essential to modern war. In every part, manufactories of gunpowder and foundries of cannon, were seen rising; every place resounded with the preparations of war. The provincial assemblies and conventions seconded admirably the operations of congress; and the people obeyed, with incredible promptitude, the orders of these various authorities. In addition to these measures, several fast-sailing vessels were despatched to the coast of Guinea, where they procured immense quantities, having purchased it of European ships, employed in the trade. The assembly of Massachusetts even prohibited the use of powder in shooting at game, or its expenditure in public rejoicing.
In the autumn of 1775, General Gage obtained leave to repair to England; or, according to some authorities, was rëcalled by the king. During his administration, he had rendered himself odious to the Americans, and now they heard of his retirement without regret. He was succeeded in command by General William Howe, a gentleman much esteemed for his talents, and, withal, less vindictive in his temper.
Towards the close of the year, Washington was environed with difficulties. Great responsibilities were resting upon him, with which his means were far from being commensurate. The organization of the army, notwithstanding his greatest efforts, was very imperfect. The ardor of the troops, having little excitement beyond an occasional skirmish, was evidently abating. In not a few instances, a spirit of rapacity had been manifested, by portions of the troops, and depredations were made upon private as well as public property. Several generals, dissatisfied with the promotions made by congress, resigned their commissions, and returned home. Sickness, especially the dysentery, appeared in the camp, and proved a distressing visitant. The cold weather set in, and occasioned great suffering to the soldiers, who were destitute of barracks and other conveniences.
While these and other troubles were in a degree disturbing the calmness of Washington, other considerations did not serve to allay his anxiety. "He knew that congress anxiously contemplated more decisive steps, and that the country looked for events of greater magnitude. The public was ignorant of his actual situation, and conceived his means, for offensive operations, to be much greater than they were; and they expected from him the capture or expulsion of the British army, in Boston. He felt the importance of securing the confidence of his countrymen, by some brilliant action, and was fully sensible that his own reputation was liable to suffer, if he confined himself solely to measures of defence." To publish to his anxious country the state of his army, would be to acquaint the enemy with his weakness, and to hazard his destruction. The firmness and patriotism of General Washington were displayed, in making the good of his country an object of higher consideration, than the applause of those who were incapable of forming a correct opinion of the propriety of his measures. On this, and on many other occasions during the war, he withstood the voice of the populace, rejected the entreaties of the sanguine, and refused to adopt the plans of the rash, that he might ultimately secure the great object of contention. While he resolutely rejected every measure which, in his calm and deliberate judgment he did not approve, he daily pondered the practicability of a successful attack upon Boston. As a preparatory step, he took possession of Plowed hill, Cobble hill, and Lechmere's point, and erected fortifications upon them. These posts brought him within half a mile of the enemy's works on Bunker's hill, and, by his artillery, he drove the British floating-batteries from their stations in Charles' river. He erected floating-batteries to watch the movements of his enemy, and to aid in any offensive operations that circumstances might warrant. In these circumstances, he took the opinion of his general officers, respecting an attack upon Boston; but they unanimously gave their opinion in opposition to the measure, and this opinion was immediately communicated to congress. Congress appeared, however, to favor the attempt; and, that an apprehension of danger to the town of Boston might not have an undue influence upon the operations of the army, resolved, 'That if General Washington and his council of war should be of opinion that a successful attack might be made on the troops in Boston, he should make it in any manner he might think it expedient, notwithstanding the town and the property therein might thereby be destroyed.'[34]
Towards the close of February, the stock of powder having been considerably increased, and the regular army, which amounted to fourteen thousand men, being rëinforced by six thousand of the militia of Massachusetts, Washington himself was disposed to carry the war against the British into Boston; but his general officers dissenting, he reluctantly acquiesced, and turned his attention to the taking possession of Dorchester heights, by which he would be able to command the city.
The announcement of this intention, diffused joy throughout the American army, and each one prepared himself to obey the summons in case his service was required. The night of the 4th of March, was selected for the enterprise, in hope that a recollection of the tragic scenes of the 5th of March, 1770, would rouse the spirit of the soldiers to a degree commensurate with the daring exploit proposed.
Accordingly, on the evening of the 4th, the necessary arrangements having been made, the Americans proceeded in profound silence towards the peninsula of Dorchester. The obscurity of the night was propitious, and the wind favorable, since it could not bear to the enemy the little noise which it was impossible to avoid. The frost had rendered the roads easy. The batteries of Phipps' farm, and those of Roxbury, incessantly fulminated with a stupendous roar.
Eight hundred men composed the van-guard; it was followed by carriages, filled with utensils of intrenchment, and twelve hundred pioneers led by General Thomas. In the rear-guard were three hundred carts of fascines, of gabions, and bundles of hay, destined to cover the flank of the troops, in the passage of the isthmus of Dorchester, which, being very low, was exposed to be raked on both sides by the artillery of the English vessels.
"All succeeded perfectly; the Americans arrived upon the heights, not only without being molested, but even without being perceived by the enemy.
"They set themselves to work with an activity so prodigious, that by ten o'clock at night, they had already constructed two forts, in condition to shelter them from small arms and grape-shot; one upon the height nearest to the city, and the other upon that which looks towards Castle island. The day appeared, but it prevented not the provincials from continuing their works, without any movement being made on the part of the garrison. When the latter discovered these deeds of the Americans, nothing could exceed their astonishment. Their only alternative, it was at once apparent, was either to dislodge the Americans, or abandon the town.
"The first intention of Howe was to attempt the former, and preparations were made accordingly; but he was compelled to defer the attack till the following morning. During the night a storm arose, and when the day dawned, the sea was still excessively agitated. A violent rain came to increase the obstacles; the English general kept himself quiet. But the Americans made proper use of this delay; they erected a third redoubt, and completed the other works. Colonel Mifflin had prepared a great number of hogsheads full of stones and sand, in order to roll them upon the enemy when he should march up to the assault, to break his ranks, and throw him into a confusion that might smooth the way to his defeat."
On more mature reflection, General Howe was convinced of the impolicy of attempting to dislodge the Americans. If success should crown such an enterprise, it would, indeed, be highly auspicious to the British cause, but a failure would be fatal. The other alternative, therefore, was the only choice left.
Having taken this resolution, General Howe notified the selectmen of Boston, that the city being no longer of any use to the king, he was resolved to abandon it; but, if opposed, he should fire it, and for this purpose ample materials had been provided. To these conditions it appears, from what followed, that Washington consented; but the articles of the truce were never written. The Americans remained quiet spectators of the retreat of the English. But the city presented a melancholy spectacle; notwithstanding the orders of General Howe, all was havoc and confusion. Fifteen hundred loyalists, with their families and their most valuable effects, hastened, with infinite dejection of mind, to abandon a residence which had been so dear to them, and where they had so long enjoyed felicity. The fathers carrying burdens, and the mothers their children, went weeping towards the ships; the last salutations, the farewell embraces of those who departed and of those who remained; the sick, the wounded, the aged, the infants, would have moved with compassion the witnesses of their distress, if the care of their own safety had not absorbed the attention of all.
"The carts and beasts of burden were become the occasion of sharp disputes between the inhabitants, who had retained them, and the soldiers, who wished to employ them. The disorder was also increased by the animosity that prevailed between the soldiers of the garrison and those of the fleet; they reproached each other mutually, as the authors of their common misfortune. With one accord, however, they complained of the coldness and ingratitude of their country, which seemed to have abandoned, or rather forgotten them upon these distant shores, a prey to so much misery, and to so many dangers. For, since the month of October, General Howe had not received from England any order or intelligence whatever, which testified that the government still existed, and had not lost sight of the army of Boston.
"Meanwhile, a desperate band of soldiers and sailors took advantage of the confusion to force doors, and pillage the houses and shops. They destroyed what they could not carry away. The entire city was devoted to devastation, and it was feared every moment that the flames would break out to consummate its destruction.
"The 15th of March, General Howe issued a proclamation, forbidding any inhabitant to go out of his house before eleven o'clock in the morning, in order not to disturb the embarkation of the troops, which was to have taken place on that day. But an east wind prevented their departure. Meanwhile, the Americans had constructed a redoubt upon the point of Nook's hill, on the peninsula of Dorchester; and having furnished it with artillery, they entirely commanded the isthmus of Boston, and all the southern part of the town. It was even to be feared that they would occupy Noddle's island, and establish batteries, which, sweeping the surface of the water across the harbor, would have entirely interdicted the passage to the ships, and reduced the garrison to the necessity of yielding at discretion. All delay became dangerous; consequently, the British troops and the loyalists began to embark the 17th of March, at four in the morning, and by ten, all were on board.
"The vessels were overladen with men and baggage; provisions were scanty, confusion was every where. The rear-guard was scarcely out of the city, when Washington entered it on the other side, with colors displayed, drums beating, and all the forms of victory and triumph. He was received by the inhabitants with every demonstration of gratitude and respect due to a deliverer. Their joy broke forth with the more vivacity, as their sufferings had been long and cruel. For more than sixteen months they had endured hunger, thirst, cold, and the outrages of an insolent soldiery, who deemed them rebels. The most necessary articles of food were risen to exorbitant prices.
"Horse flesh was not refused by those who could procure it. For want of fuel, the pews and benches of churches were taken up for this purpose; the counters and partitions of warehouses were applied to the same uses, and even houses, not inhabited, were demolished for the sake of the wood. The English left a great quantity of artillery and munitions. Two hundred and fifty pieces of cannon, of different caliber, were found in Boston, in Castle island, and in the intrenchments of Bunker's hill, and the Neck. The English had attempted, but with little success, in their haste, to destroy or to spike these last pieces; others had been thrown into the sea, but they were recovered. There were found besides, four mortars, a considerable quantity of coal, of wheat, and of other grains, and one hundred and fifty horses."[35]
Dr. Thatcher in his 'Military Journal,' thus describes a visit which he made to the Old South church, a few days after the evacuation:
"March 23d.—I went to view the Old South church, a spacious brick building, near the centre of the town. It had been for more than a century consecrated to the service of religion, and many eminent divines have in its pulpit labored in teaching the ways of righteousness and truth. But, during the late siege, the inside of it was entirely destroyed by the British, and the sacred building occupied as a riding school for Burgoyne's regiment of dragoons. The pulpit and pews were removed, the floor covered with earth, and used for the purpose of training and exercising their horses. A beautiful pew, ornamented with carved work and silk furniture, was demolished; and by order of an officer, the carved work, it is said, was used as a fence for a hog-sty. The North church, a very valuable building, was entirely demolished, and consumed for fuel. Thus are our houses, devoted to religious worship, profaned and destroyed by the subjects of his royal majesty. His excellency, the commander-in-chief, has been received by the inhabitants with every mark of respect and gratitude; and a public dinner has been provided for him. He requested the Rev. Dr. Elliot, at the renewal of his customary Thursday lecture, to preach a thanksgiving sermon, adapted to the joyful occasion. Accordingly, on the 28th, this pious divine preached an appropriate discourse from Isaiah xxxiii. 20, in presence of his excellency and a respectable audience."
The recovery of Boston was an important event, and as such was hailed with joyful triumph throughout the colonies. A golden medal, commemorative of the occasion, was struck by order of congress, and a vote of thanks was passed to Washington and the army "for their wise and spirited conduct in the siege and acquisition of Boston."
General Putnam reading the Declaration to the Connecticut Troops.
Independence begun to be contemplated—Causes which increased a desire for such an event—Question of a Declaration of Independence enters the Colonial Assemblies—Introduced to Congress by Richard Henry Lee—Debated—State of Parties in respect to it—Measures adopted to secure a favorable vote—Question taken—Declaration adopted—Signed—The great Act of the Revolution—Influence of it immediately perceived—Character and merits of the Signers of that Instrument—The 4th of July, a time-honored and glorious day!—How it should be celebrated.
For some time previous to the winter of 1775-6, the ultimate separation of the colonies from Great Britain must have occurred to the leading men of America as a possible event. But the people at large had, at that time, not only not contemplated such an event, but would have been startled by the proposal. The proceedings of the British parliament, however, at length became so unjust, and even monstrous, as to array most of the Americans against the parent-country, and to excite a wish in the bosoms of thousands that the colonies were free from her dominion.
The news of the battle of Bunker's hill not only roused to indignation the king and his ministers, but convinced them that "a flock of Yankees" were not so despisable objects as they had supposed; and that if the arms of the Americans were not so brightly burnished as those of his majesty's disciplined troops, nevertheless, in the firm hands and under the practised eye of "country boors," they could make sad havoc among them.
A large augmentation of the forces in America, contrary to all previous opinion, was now deemed essential. Accordingly, an act was introduced into parliament, authorizing the employment of sixteen thousand German troops, which, with the British regiments in, and about to be sent to America, would constitute a force of nearly fifty thousand men. The minority in parliament reprobated the employment of mercenary troops, in strong and unmeasured terms. But little did the friends of America in parliament feel, in view of such a step, compared with the Americans themselves. "Arm foreigners against us!" they exclaimed; "let us treat the English themselves as foreigners. Better for us to be eternally separated from them, than to be exposed to such cruelty." But the indignation of the Americans was, if possible, still more increased by another act of parliament, passed at the same session, viz: "prohibiting all trade and commerce with the colonies; and authorizing the capture and condemnation, not only of all American vessels with their cargoes, but all other vessels found trading, in any port or place in the colonies, as if the same were the vessels and effects of open enemies; and the vessels and property thus taken were vested in the captors, and the crews were to be treated, not as prisoners, but as slaves." By another clause, British subjects were authorized to compel men taken on board of American vessels, whether crews or other persons, to fight against their own countrymen!
By such measures, cruel and impolitic, did the British authorities compel the Americans, not only to take up arms against the mother-country, but to desire a lasting separation from her.
Thus the leaven commenced, and by degrees diffused itself through the mass. Shortly after, the gazettes began to speak out. These were followed by the issue of several pamphlets; among which, that entitled Common Sense, by Thomas Paine, "produced a wonderful effect in the different colonies in favor of independence." Influential individuals in every colony urged it as a step absolutely necessary, to preserve the rights and liberties, as well as to secure the happiness and prosperity of America. Reconciliation, they said, on any terms compatible with the preservation and security of these great and important objects, was now impossible. These sentiments were disseminated among the people by distinguished individuals, in a variety of ways. The chief justice of South Carolina, William Henry Dayton, appointed under the new form of government, just adopted, in his charge to the grand jurors, in April, after justifying the proceedings of that colony, in forming a new government, on the principles of the revolution in England, in 1688, thus concludes: "The Almighty created America to be independent of Great Britain: let us beware of the impiety of being backward to act as instruments in the Almighty's hand, now extended to accomplish his purpose; and by the completion of which alone, America, in the nature of human affairs, can be secure against the crafty and insidious designs of her enemies, who think her power and prosperity already far too great. In a word, our piety and political safety are so blended, that to refuse our labors in this divine work, is to refuse to be a great, a free, a pious, and a happy people." This was bold language for one so prominent to utter. In the view of royalists, it was treasonable; but in the estimation of the true friends of American liberty, if bold, it was just and patriotic.
At length, the question of independence entered some of the colonial assemblies and conventions, and expressions in favor of such a measure were made. North Carolina, it is believed, has the honor of taking the lead, as a province, having by her convention, as early as April 22d, empowered their delegates in congress, "to concur with those in the other colonies in declaring independency."[36]
On the 15th of May the convention of Virginia went still further, and unanimously instructed their delegates in the general congress, "to propose to that respectable body, to declare the united colonies free and independent states, absolved from all allegiance or dependence upon the crown or parliament of Great Britain; and to give the assent of that colony to such declaration." During the same month, Massachusetts and Rhode Island virtually adopted similar resolutions. In short, public sentiment appeared to be setting strongly in favor of action, on this great and momentous question.
Meanwhile, congress were not idle or uninterested spectators of events. They had been watching with no small solicitude the "signs of the times." Personally, they had counted the cost. Most of the members had come to the conclusion that rather than be slaves, as they had been, they would sacrifice fortune and life itself. These, therefore, they were willing to peril, by any act or declaration which might seem to contribute to their country's cause.
But a sacred regard to that cause, required the utmost prudence. Premature action might injure a cause which they wished, above all others, to benefit. The popular feelings must have become duly interested—the popular will must precede and direct.
At length, the propitious time was believed to have arrived, and in humble dependence upon the guidance and protection of Almighty God, it was determined to go forward with this great and solemn work.
On the 7th of June, therefore, the great question of independence was brought directly before congress, by Richard Henry Lee, one of the delegates from Virginia. He submitted a resolution, declaring "that the united colonies are, and ought to be, free and independent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown; and that all political connection between them and Great Britain is, and ought to be, dissolved." The resolution was postponed until the next day, and every member enjoined to attend, to take the same into consideration. On the 8th, it was debated in committee of the whole.
No question of greater magnitude was ever presented to the consideration of a deliberative body, or debated with more eloquence, energy, and ability. Every member seemed duly impressed with the important bearing that their decision would have upon the future destiny of the country.
Mr. Lee, the mover, and Mr. John Adams were particularly distinguished in supporting, and Mr. John Dickinson in opposing the resolution. On the 10th, it was adopted in committee, by a bare majority of the colonies. The delegates from Pennsylvania and Maryland, were instructed to oppose it; and the delegates from some of the other colonies were without special instructions on the subject. To give time for greater unanimity, the resolution was postponed in the house, until the first of July. In the mean time, a committee, consisting of Mr. Jefferson, John Adams, Dr. Franklin, Mr. Sherman, and R. R. Livingston, was appointed to prepare a declaration of independence. During this interval, measures were taken to procure the assent of all the colonies.[37]
A portion of the colonies had not given specific instructions to their delegates, while others had, and in opposition to the measure. On a question of such magnitude, it was deemed of the utmost importance that entire unanimity, if possible, should be had. The delegates of New York dispatched an express to the convention of that colony, then in session, for advice; but the convention, not considering themselves or their delegates authorized to declare the colony independent, recommended that the people, who were then about to elect new members to the convention, should give instructions on the subject. June 15th, New Hampshire instructed her delegates to join the other colonies on this question. On the 14th, Connecticut gave similar instructions. New Jersey followed on the 21st. Pennsylvania, the same month, removed restrictions which in the previous November, had been laid upon their delegates, and now authorized them to unite in the measure. Maryland had also instructed her delegates to vote against independence; but on the 28th of June, following the example of Pennsylvania, the members of this convention rëcalled their former instructions, and empowered their delegates to concur. These new instructions were immediately dispatched by express to Philadelphia, and, on 1st of July, were laid before congress.
On the same day, the resolution of Mr. Lee, relating to independence, was resumed in that body, referred to a committee of the whole, and was assented to by all the colonies, except Pennsylvania and Delaware.
The delegates from the former, then present, were seven, and four voted against it. The number present from Delaware, was only two—Thomas McKean and George Read—and they were divided; McKean in favor, and Read against the resolution. Being reported to the house, at the request of a colony, the proposition was postponed until the next day, when it passed, and was entered on the journals. The declaration of independence was reported by the special committee on the 28th of June, and on the 4th of July, came before congress for final decision, and received the vote of every colony.
Two of the members from Pennsylvania, Morris and Dickinson, were absent; of the five who were present, Franklin, Wilson, and Morton, were in favor, and Willing and Humphrey against. Mr. McKean, to secure the vote of Delaware, sent an express for Mr. Rodney, the other delegate from that colony; who, although at the distance of eighty miles from Philadelphia, arrived in time on the 4th to unite with him in the vote, and thus complete the union of the colonies on this momentous question. The committee appointed to prepare a declaration of independence, selected Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson a sub-committee; and the original draft was made by Mr. Jefferson.
This draft, without any amendment by the committee, was reported to congress, and after undergoing several amendments, received their sanction.
It now only remained to affix their signatures to the declaration, and to publish it to the world, and their duty, in respect to this important measure, was done. Having been engrossed on parchment, it was brought out, and laid on the table. This was on the 2d of August. Meanwhile, some who had voted for the declaration, had left congress, and others had taken their places. The latter signed the instrument.
John Hancock, as president of the congress, led the way. Taking a pen, he recorded his name. He wrote with great power, and on the original parchment, no signature is so bold and full-faced as his. The others followed by states—fifty-six in number.
The declaration of independence, was the great act of the Revolution. It was the hinge on which turned the important events which followed. Yet, at the period the plan was brought forward, it appeared to many to partake of the wildness and extravagance of some measure of the knight of la Mancha. At that day, the colonies were few and feeble. They had no political character—no bond of union but common sufferings, common necessities, and common danger. The inhabitants did not exceed three millions—they had no veteran army—no arsenals but barns—no munitions of war—few fortifications—no public treasury, no power to lay taxes, and no credit on which to obtain a loan.
No wonder that the hearts of some trembled. No wonder that many doubted the expediency of such a bold and adventurous step. Who was the nation with which the colonies had to contend?—the mistress of the world—a nation whose navy far exceeded that of any other nation on the globe. Her armies were numerous and veteran—her officers were skilful and practised—her statesmen subtle and sagacious, and were now fired with indignation.
All these circumstances were well known to the patriots who composed the congress of '76. They were aware that they put in peril life, liberty, and country.
Yet, they well knew the importance of the measure proposed, and not only its importance, but its necessity. The country needed some great object distinctly before them. The colonies required a bond of union—a common cause—one expressed—recorded—recognised—some one great plan, the object of which they could pledge their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor, to secure. That plan was independence.
The influence of the declaration was immediately perceived—it roused the nation to a higher tone of feeling, and gave impulse and concentration to the national energies. It helped on the tide of Revolution, and mightily aided in driving back the waves of British oppression. But the full influence of that measure is not yet felt—is not yet seen. That belongs to distant time. Some day, hereafter, it will stand out in the great picture of human liberty, in all its grandeur and importance. More will be thought of it than of the splendid and long-lauded achievements of Marathon and Salamis—of Waterloo and Trafalgar!
Nor can we yet estimate the greatness of the men. We are still too near them. But they are rising higher and higher, every year that passes. As we retire into the distance from the date and scene of their actions, their magnitude and worth acquire their true and proper dimensions. In stern and self-denying virtue, they will compare with Regulus, and in a pure and lofty patriotism, will be placed on the same roll with William Tell and Robert the Bruce.
The signers of the declaration of American independence, and their compatriots in toil, and trial, and blood, will never be forgotten. They need no monument, but they deserve one; and, for myself, I wish there was one—a Revolutionary monument—erected by the nation—worthy of the empire whose liberties, civil and religious, they secured—one which should stand—if God pleased—through all time, to serve as a consecrated offering to their patriotism, and the evidence of their imperishable glory:—a monument to which we might conduct our sons in future days; and, as they pondered the deeply engraved names of these heroes and martyrs to liberty—we, the fathers, might say, "Look upon your ancestry, and scorn to be slaves!"
What a day is the 4th of July, as it yearly recurs! The cannon on that day thunders from our hills—but it speaks of liberty. The bell from every spire sends forth its peal, but in sounds which impart a joyous impulse to the blood of the sire, and awaken a thrill of delight in the bosom of the stripling.
No other nation ever celebrated such a day. Days of joy and jubilee they have had; but they were days which, while they removed one usurper from the throne, made way for another; or celebrated some ambitious hero's victories, achieved at the expense of slaughtered thousands. Is it the spirit of an unholy triumph, which prompts the Americans to dwell with delight upon the day? Patriotic sympathy would hail with joy such a day, for any nation on the globe. And such a day, we trust, will come for all; when the sun of liberty, which warms and refreshes us, will fill with joy even the vassals of the Russian autocrat, and spread his heart-cheering beams over the tyrannized millions of the misnamed "celestial empire."
It has sometimes been cast upon us as a reproach, that we exalt the day too much. Exalt it too much! It has indeed sometimes been abused. The spirit of liberty has grown wanton, and excess has sullied the irreproachable propriety, which should ever characterize the demonstrations of joy on such a day as this. But those days are chiefly passed. No—whence the charge of exalting the day too highly?—Not by those who have tasted the sweets of American liberty, nor by those who have drawn long and deep draughts from the refreshing fountains of western freedom. Oh, no—not by such; but by the hirelings of some eastern usurper—by the myrmidons of crowned heads, who hate a day which speaks so loudly of rational liberty to the rest of the world in bondage.
What monarch in Europe would think his throne safe, were his subjects to witness an American celebration of the 4th of July? It would open visions before them upon which they would gaze with intense emotions. It would excite pantings after liberty, which, if unresisted, would convulse every nation, and demolish every despotic throne. What would the Russian serf say, were he to look in upon the smiling faces which course the streets of a New England village, on a bright and balmy 4th of July? What would the subjects of Algerine or Turkish despotism say?
Yet we exalt the day too much! But for that day, what would have been our present condition? Where would have been that constitution, under which our political voyage of more than sixty years has been made with so much prosperity to the nation? Where were that enterprise which has levelled our forests, and spread a smiling and happy population over our western wilds? Where that inventive genius, which, in its creations, has rivalled, and in some respects excelled, the inventions of Europe? Look at our ships—our manufactures—our printing establishments—our cities—our canals—our railroads—our thousand and ten thousand sources of wealth and happiness—where had these been, but for the 4th of July, 1776, connected as it was, and must ever be, with the achievement of our national independence? Would Great Britain have suffered these? Would she have seen such thrift—such expansion—such accumulation of national power, and not have repressed it—when she could not bear, without passing prohibitory laws, that our forefather's should make a hat to cover their heads—or manufacture a sheet of paper on which to write a letter to a friend! Had the mother-country had her will, where had been the genius of Fulton, Whitney, and Clinton? On the other side of the waters—not on this. Our halls of legislature would have failed in the manly eloquence of rival orators, and our temples of worship would have been devoted to God and the aggrandizement of a phalanx of spiritual lords.
Said a patriarch and apostle of liberty, just after the vote on the question of independence had been taken—"Let the day be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God. Let it be solemnized with pomp, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward for ever."
The patriarch uttered noble and patriotic sentiments. Be the day remembered now and for ever. Remember it, fathers, as connected with the civil and religious blessings, which have been your portion in your earthly pilgrimage. Remember it, mothers, for it has made you the wives and companions of freemen. Remember it sons and daughters, as the birth-day of liberty, but for which you might be shedding your blood in the service of a tyrant, or staining your virtue in the embraces of a bachanalian.
Be it remembered—and as it recurs—and may it recur with every year while time shall last—first and foremost let the tribute of a devout homage ascend to the GOD of our fathers—to Him, who imparted wisdom to their counsel and success to their arms—who, when darkness encircled them, dispelled it—when stores failed, supplied them—who was a pillar of cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by night—to Him be glory for a land like that which the patriarch saw from Pisgah—and whose hills are like those of Lebanon and Carmel.
The day is becoming a religious festival. This is right. Let the sanctuary be opened, and homage be offered there. Let our Sabbath-schools assemble, and fill our groves with divine song. But never should we dispense with other innocent demonstrations of joy. Let the cannon thunder from our hills—let the bells peal through our villages and through our vallies. In every appropriate way, let the future generations celebrate that glad era in our history when British cohorts were obliged to retire, and "God save the king" on the rolling drum, died upon our shores.
Invasion of Southern Colonies proposed—Expedition dispatched—Charleston its first Object—Proceedings of its Citizens—Sullivan's island Fortified—Arrival of General Lee—His opinion of Fort Moultrie—British Fleet arrives—Preliminary movements—Fort Moultrie attacked—Remarkable Defence of it—Action described—Heroic conduct of Sergeant Jasper—British repulsed—Respective losses—Liberal conduct of Governor Rutledge—Mrs. Elliot—Death of Jasper.
The successful defence of Fort Moultrie, on Sullivan's island, is justly considered one of the noblest achievements recorded in the annals of the Revolution.
The reduction of the southern colonies to obedience, was deemed a measure of prime importance by the British government, nor was it considered a project of difficult achievement. Hitherto the principal theatre of the war had been in the north; and, hence, it was calculated that preparations for the defence of the southern colonies had been so much neglected, that little more than a demonstration in that quarter would be necessary to bring the people to terms.
Early in 1776, an expedition having the above object in view was devised, the command of which was entrusted to Sir Peter Parker and Earl Cornwallis. Accordingly, on the 3d of May, Admiral Parker, with twenty sail, arrived at Cape Fear, with Generals Cornwallis, Vaughan, and several others.
General Clinton was expected from New York, with another considerable corps, to cöoperate in the attack. With his troops he had arrived at the point of destination, even anterior to the naval armament; and, being the senior general, on the junction of the forces, assumed the command. The immediate object was the reduction and possession of Charleston, the capital of South Carolina; on the fall of which, the subjugation of that and the other southern provinces would be an easy achievement.
The meditated invasion was not unknown to the Carolinians, who, being a high-minded and chivalrous people, determined that if their capital fell, it should be at an expense of a treasure of British blood.
With great activity and energy, therefore, they betook themselves to the fortification of every assailable point. With patriotic disinterestedness, the citizens demolished their valuable store-houses on the wharves to supply materials for defence. Streets were barricaded, and intrenchments erected along the shore. Even windows were stripped of their weights, to supply the demand for bullets. The inhabitants generally came to the work of defence, and scarcely a man on the ground could be discovered without a spade, a pickaxe, or other implement of work. Even the blacks from the city, and for miles in the country, were employed, and seemed animated with the enthusiasm and zeal of their masters. The commanding general was Major-general Lee, who, having been appointed by congress to the command of the southern forces, and possessing the entire confidence of the troops and of the people, was enabled to carry to completion the various works of defence, which his knowledge and skill had decided to be important. Governor Rutledge, also a man of great influence in the province, cöoperated with General Lee, in all his measures of defence, and by his example and exhortations essentially contributed to the happy results which followed.
At the distance of six miles from the point of land formed by the confluence of the two rivers, Ashley and Cooper, and on which Charleston is built, lies Sullivan's island. It commands the channel which leads to the port. The due fortification of this point was a matter of great moment. The outline of a fort had already been marked out, to complete which, Colonel William Moultrie, a singularly brave and accomplished officer, was dispatched early in March. Palmetto trees, which from their soft and spongy texture, were admirably calculated to deprive a ball of its impetus without causing splinters, had been cut in the forest, and the logs in huge rafts lay moored to the beach. "Ignorant of gunnery, but confident in their own resources, and nerved with resolute courage, Moultrie and his coadjutors, hardy sons of the soil, heaved those huge logs from the water, and began the work. A square pen was built, with bastions from each angle, capable of covering a thousand men. The logs were laid in two parallel rows, and sixteen feet apart; bound together with cross-timbers dove-tailed and bolted into logs, and the wide space filled with sand. When completed, it presented the appearance of a solid wall, sixteen feet wide; but its strength was yet to be tested. Behind this, Moultrie placed four hundred and thirty-five men, and thirty-one cannon, some of them twenty-sixes, some eighteens, and the rest of smaller caliber—throwing in all five hundred and thirteen pounds.
"It was at this juncture that Lee arrived from the north, and took command of the troops. When his eye, accustomed to the scientific structures of Europe, fell on this rudely-built affair, he smiled in derision, calling it a 'slaughter-pen,' and requested Governor Rutledge to have it immediately evacuated. But that noble patriot was made of sterner stuff, and replied, 'that while a soldier remained alive, he would never give his sanction to such an order.'"
The naval force of the British, consisted of the Bristol and Experiment, of fifty guns; four frigates, the Active, the Acteon, the Solebay, and the Syren, of twenty-eight; the Sphynx, of twenty, the Friendship, of twenty-two, two smaller vessels of eight, and the Thunder, a bomb-ketch. On reaching the bar, at the entrance of the channels of Charleston, it was found that the fifty-gun ships could not pass without being lightened. The removal and rëplacement of their guns was attended with incredible labor; and although thus lightened, they struck, and for a time were in danger of bilging.
Meanwhile, General Clinton issued his proclamation, which he dispatched to the city with a flag, demanding the citizens to lay down their arms, and to return to their allegiance, on pain of an immediate attack, and an utter overthrow. To this demand, not even the civility of a reply was accorded, and the threatened attack, on the morning of the 28th of June, was commenced.
To the citizens of Charleston those were anxious hours. There was hope, but more of fear. They filled the wharves, the roofs, and the steeples—in short, every eminence was black with spectators, gazing on the exciting scene and the approaching conflict.
It was a calm, bright, beautiful day. The wind being fair, the British fleet came steadily, proudly, towards the "slaughter-pen," and one after another took the positions assigned them. The Americans watched them with intense interest—"Moultrie's eye flashed with delight." Every gun was loaded—every one was manned—and all were now anxiously waiting the order to fire. At length, a portion of the fleet had reached point-blank-shot distance, when Moultrie, who, like Prescott at the battle of Bunker's hill, had restrained his anxiously-waiting men, now gave the word of command "Fire!"—And they did fire—and "the shores shook with the tremendous explosion."
The fleet continued to advance, a little abreast of the fort, when letting go their anchors, and clewing up their sails, they opened upon the fort. More than a hundred cannon!—their blaze, their smoke, their roar—all in the same instant—it was a terrible commencement—the stoutest heart palpitated! every one unconsciously held his breath!
"The battle had now fairly commenced, and the guns were worked with fearful rapidity. It was one constant peal of thunder, and to the spectators in Charleston, that low spot, across the bay, looked like a volcano breaking forth from the sea. Lee stood on Haddrell's point, watching the effect of the first fire. When the smoke lifted, like the folds of a vast curtain, he expected to see that 'slaughter-pen' in fragments; but there still floated the flag of freedom, and beneath it beat brave hearts, to whom that awful cannonade was but 'a symphony to the grand march of independence.' When the fight had fairly begun, they thought no more of those heavy guns than they did of their rifles. Their coats were hastily flung one side, and their hats with them—and in their shirt-sleeves, with handkerchiefs about their heads, they toiled away under the sweltering sun with the coolness and courage of old soldiers. The fire from those nine vessels, with their cannon all trained upon that pile of logs, was terrific, and it trembled like a frightened thing under the shock; but the good palmettoes closed silently over the balls, as they buried themselves in the timber and sand, and the work went bravely on. Thus, hour after hour, did it blaze, and flame, and thunder there on the sea, while the shots of the Americans told with murderous effect. At every discharge, those vessels shook as if smitten by a rock—the planks were ripped up, the splinters hurled through the air, and the decks strewed with mangled forms. Amid the smoke, bombs were seen traversing the air, and dropping, in an incessant shower, within the fort—but a morass in the middle swallowed them up as fast as they fell. At length, riddled through and through, her beds of mortar broken up, the bomb-vessel ceased firing. Leaving the smaller vessels, as unworthy of his attention, Moultrie trained his guns upon the larger ones, and 'Look to the Commodore! look to the fifty-gun ship!' passed along the lines, and they did look to the Commodore in good earnest, sweeping her decks at every discharge with such fatal fire, that at one time there was scarcely a man left upon the quarter-deck. The Experiment, too, came in for her share of consideration—her decks were slippery with blood, and nearly a hundred of her men were borne below, either killed or wounded. Nor were the enemy idle, but rained back a perfect tempest of balls; but that brave garrison had got used to the music of cannon, and the men, begrimed with powder and smoke, shot with the precision and steadiness they would have done in firing at a target. As a heavy ball, in full sweep, touched the top of the works, it took one of the coats, lying upon the logs, and lodged it in a tree. 'See that coat! see that coat!' burst in a laugh on every side, as if it had been a mere plaything that had whistled past their heads. Moultrie, after a while, took out his pipe, and lighting it, leaned against the logs, and smoked away with his officers, as if they were out there sunning themselves, instead of standing within the blaze, and smoke, and uproar of nearly two hundred cannon. Now and then he would take the pipe from his mouth to shout 'fire!' or give some order, and then commence puffing and talking—thus presenting a strange mixture of the droll and heroic. The hearts of the spectators in the distance, many of whom had husbands and brothers in the fight, were far more agitated than they against whom that fearful iron storm was hailing.
"After the fight had continued for several hours, Lee, seeing that the 'slaughter pen' held out so well, passed over to it in a boat, and remained for a short time. Accustomed as he was to battle, and to the disciplined valor of European troops, he still was struck with astonishment at the scene that presented itself as he approached. There stood Moultrie, quietly smoking his pipe, while the heavy and rapid explosions kept up a deafening roar; and there, stooping over their pieces, were those raw gunners firing with the deadly precision of practised artillerists. Amazed to find an English fleet, carrying two hundred and sixty guns, kept at bay by thirty cannon and four hundred men, he left the fort to its brave commander, and returned to his old station."[38]
Among the Americans, who were that day in the "slaughter-pen," and who were dealing death and destruction without stint, was a Sergeant Jasper, whose name has since been given to one of the counties in Georgia, for this and other heroic deeds. In the warmest of the contest, the flag-staff of the fort was shot away by a cannon-ball, and fell to the outside of the ramparts on the beach. The spectators at Charleston saw it fall, and supposing that the fort had yielded, were filled with consternation and dismay. In the surrender of the fort, they read the destiny of themselves and city. But what was their joy to perceive that columns of smoke, from the fort, still continued to roll up—the blaze and thunder of its cannon continued to be seen and heard; and presently the folds of the flag again fluttered in the breeze. Sergeant Jasper was the hero of the occasion. He had witnessed the fall of the flag—and he saw it "stretched in dishonor on the sand." It was a perilous attempt, but he did not hesitate. Leaping the ramparts, he proceeded, amidst a shower of balls, the entire length of the fort, and, picking up the flag, tied it to a post, and rëplaced it on a parapet, and there, too, he himself supported it till another flag-staff could be procured. Here, once more, it proudly waved—amid the shouts and congratulations of the now still more courageous in the fort, and to the joy of still more distant and equally anxious spectators of the scene.