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Reversals
Readers
of history, especially Revolutionary War buffs, will find much to appreciate
in David Hackett Fisher’s new book, Washington’s
Crossing. Even those readers who think they know a lot about Washington’s crossing the Delaware River in December
1776, and the battle of Trenton,
will find much new information on the pages of this book. In the two hundred
pages leading up to December 1776, we find much to reflect on about strategy,
tactics, setbacks, advances and reversals, on all sides.
Here’s an excerpt from the beginning of the chapter titled, “The Fall of New
York: A Cataract of Disaster,” pp. 81-86
At the beginning of 1776, Congress and
the commander-in-chief had assigned the defense of New York to General Charles Lee, the most experienced
senior officer in the Continental army. He was overwhelmed by the job and
did not believe that it could be done. To George Washington he confided, “the
consequences of the Enemy’s possessing themselves of New York have appear’d
to me so terrible that I have scarcely been able to sleep.”
Like most towns in the British
colonies, New York
was open and largely unfortified. Its prosperity grew from the free flow of
commerce, and its location provided easy access by water from every side: the
Hudson River from the north and west, Long Island Sound from the east, the Atlantic Ocean from the south. For many years the
seaport towns of British America had not
needed fortifications, because they were secure behind the wooden walls of
the Royal Navy. Now their old protector had become the enemy, and every
approach to New York
was an avenue for a seaborne invader. Charles Lee put the problem
succinctly: “What to do with the city, I own puzzles me,” Charles Lee wrote;
“it is so encircl’cl with deep navigable water,
that whoever commands the sea must command the town.”
Lee studied the problem at length, as did a committee of the Continental
Congress, and New York’s
Committee of Safety. All concluded
that “to fortify the Town against shipping” was impossible. Instead, they
resolved to “fortify lodgments” at vital points to guard the approaches to
the city. The result was an ambitious plan of fortifications on lower Manhattan, Brooklyn
Heights, and Paulus
Hook (now Jersey City),
all to control access from the south. Lee also planned to block approaches
from the east by fortifying both banks of the East River at Hell Gate. He also proposed to control the Hudson River
by building strong forts on very high ground at the north en(l
of Manhattan
and on the Jersey Palisades across the river.
Most American leaders agreed with this
idea of a point-defense, hut the more they thought about it, the more vital points they discovered.
Worse, in this free and open American world, other military commanders began
to act independently on their own initiative. One of them was a cantankerous
Connecticut Yankee, General Israel Putnam. He appeared in New
York on April 7, 1776, and sent a letter to Congress asking
permission to fortify Governor’s Island in New York’s upper harbor. Putnam thought
that his idea was such a good one that he did not wait for a reply. At “candlelighting,” on the evening of April 8, 1776, he put
a thousand troops into boats and sent them to Governor’s Island
on his own initiative.
On April 13, 1776, George Washington arrived in Manhattan and took command. He wrote that
“The plan of defence formed by General Lee is, from
what little I know of the place, a very judicious one.” As troops arrived, he
put them to work building fortifications, at first on Lee’s design. Large
forts began to rise at the northern tip of Manhattan
and Fort Lee on the Jersey Palisades.
Massive entrenchmnents were constructed on the high
ground of Brooklyn
Heights against attack
by land and by sea.
Washington consulted widely with others. As he
did so, Lee’s plan began to change. Local leaders urged fortification of New York itself, which
Lee had rejected. Washington
yielded to strong urgings and gave the orders. American troops tried to make
the city itself into a fortress. Batteries and barricades rose along the East
River and the Hudson.
By midsummer, Lee’s original plan was
scarcely recognizable. As reinforcements arrived, Washington
organized them in ten brigades and distributed
seven of them in a tight perimeter defense of lower Manhattan:
two along the Hudson, two more along the East River, one inside the town, and two more in
reserve. Two brigades were put to work on Fort Washington
and King’s Bridge. Two brigades went to Long Island, and two regiments to Governor’s Island.
The British commanders on Staten Island
were quick to observe the dispersion of Washington’s army and actively encouraged
it. They sent small British forces to harass the American defenders in many places. Small parties raided
New Jersey.
Others ranged the coast of Long Island. On
the afternoon of July 12, Admiral
Richard Howe seized the opportunity of a south wind and flowing tide and ordered
two frigates, HMS Phoenix and HMS Rose, to force a passage up
the Hudson River. As the frigates got under
way with three tenders, the American army flew to arms and opened fire with
every gun that would bear. The British ships were hit many times but suffered
few casualties and no major damage. As the frigates came abreast of Governor’s
Island and Paulus
Hook, they returned fire in crashing broadsides. Some gunners on Paulus Hook abandoned their positions and ran for cover.
Others worked their guns so frantically that they neglected their swabs, and
one gun blew up, with a heavy loss of American life.
The ships continued north past lower Manhattan, and Alexander Hamilton’s guns opened fire
from the Battery. The frigates replied, and
British round shot went flying through New York
and the village
of Greenwich. The New
York Gazette reported that three cannonballs entered “Captain Clarke’s
House at Greenwich”
and one “lodged at the head of Miss Clarke’s Bed in her Chamber.” A panic
spread through the town, especially among “Women, Children and the Infirm.” Washington wrote,
“when the Men of War passed up the River the Shrieks and Cries of these poor
creatures running every Way was truly distressing and I fear will have an
unhappy effect on the Ears and Minds of our young and inexperienced
Soldiery.”
The action continued for two hours,
until the ships sailed beyond American fortifications and anchored defiantly
in the Tappan Zee. There they threatened to
stop traffic on the river and to start a Loyalist rising in tile Hudson Valley. The Americans tried to destroy
them with fire-ships, but they sailed south again ~ the American defenses
with impunity. One British seaman climbed a masthead and remained there
through the action, openly displaying his contempt for the rebels. The Royal
Navy had demonstrated its complete control of the waters around New York. The
Americans were shocked by the weakness of their defense at one of its
strongest points.
The event, was also a reminder that
British forces possessed the initiative amid could attack where they pleased.
Some American officers urged all immediate attack on Staten
Island. Several wanted to destroy the water supply on the island
by polluting it with “stove black,” hut’ that idea was unanimously rejected.
Nobody could think of a way to seize the initiative. Lacking an alternative, American defenders began to dig and
fortify more frantically than ever.
Washington was desperately short-handed, and yet
he had more troops in and around the city than he could supply. Other units,
mostly militia from New England and Pennsylvania,
were marching to his support, but in July he instructed them to remain at a
distance. The Philadelphia Associators, to their
dismay, received orders to stay ill New
Jersey. These men were able, highly motivated, amid
ready to fight, but Washington held them in what was called Flying Camp,
where they had nothing to do and began to think about going home. Robert
Morris wrote later, “our Associators had been much
disgusted with their service in the Flying Camp, and their spirit had gone to
sleep.” The New England militia were held north of
the city at White Plains.
They also demanded leave to go home and were allowed to do so by New York authorities.
So were the Jersey militia, who were sent to Perth Amboy and, after
sitting there in idleness, asked to go home and attend to the harvest.
The American troops were growing restless.
Discipline, never their strong point, rapidly diminished. These thousands of
armed Americans loved to fire their weapons and often did so, maddening the
commander-in-chief. His general orders complained that “constant firing in
camp, notwithstanding repeated orders to the contrary, is very scandalous,
and seldom a day passes but some persons are shot by their friends.”
Washington’s temper was growing short. He began
to have run-ins with entire regiments in his army, especially the militia.
One unit that got under his skin was an ancient and very honorable New England regiment called the Connecticut Light
Horse, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Seymour. Its troopers joined
the army as volunteers, and were described as “truly irregulars.” One was
taken prisoner by the British and asked to explain his duties. He answered
that they were “to flank a little and carry tidings,” much to the hilarity
of his captors. Some described these Connecticut
cavaliers as “old fashioned men, probably farmers and heads of families . . . beyond the meridian of life.” They wore
fragments of uniforms from colonial wars and carried long-barreled fowling
pieces rather than carbines and sabers. But some of them were fit and able,
and they were five hundred strong, a useful addition to the American army.
The Connecticut Light Horsemen were the
only large body of cavalry that Washington
had. He needed them more than he knew for Scouting and intelligence,
especially on Long Island. But these mounted
Connecticut countrymen did not fit Washington’s idea of a soldier or his plan for the
defense of New York.
When they arrived till of “zeal” and “attachment to the cause,” Washington told them
that their horses were in the way and he could not pay their upkeep. They
were men of “reputation arid property” and offered to pay for themselves and
their horses. Washington
replied that “they could not be of use as horsemen” arid asked them to serve
as infantry, a mortal insult to a cavalryman. They were ordered to get rid of
their horses and to start “fatigue duty” and “garrison duty,” digging fortifications
with the rest of the army.’
The
Connecticut cavalry agreed to “do duty as
foot till the arrival of the new levies,” but when more infantry arrived, Washington insisted
that they continue to serve dismounted. This time the Connecticut
cavalry refused, and on July 16, 1776, the field officers gave him a letter
explaining that “by the law of Connecticut
they were expressly exempted from staying in garrison or doing duty on foot.”
They demanded to be dismissed from the army. Washington was infuriated. He wrote back,
“if your men think themselves exempt from the common duties of a soldier... they can no longer be of use here where
horse cannot be brought into action.” He added, “I do not care how soon they
are dismiss’d.”
The result was the departure of a large
part of Washington’s
cavalry, “fine men and as well spirited as any on the ground.” Washington explained
to John Hancock, “their assistance is much needed, and might be of essential
service in case of an attack, yet I judged it advisable... to discharge them.” The
commander-in-chief was fearful that their refusal to do “fatigue duty” would
spread through the army. Some of the Connecticut
cavalry quietly remained with the army, and many served honorably later in
the war, but most were lost to this campaign.
Fischer
describes a distinctly American way of war, and calls attention to ways in
which this American way was of a higher spirit than the European way. He ends
the book with reflections on what this means to us today. I expected Washington’s
Crossing to present an engaging story of that pivotal event, and the book
certainly provides that. In addition, there’s context, detail, and
interpretation that led me to recommend to you this fine work of military
history, Washington’s
Crossing.
Steve
Hopkins, November 26, 2004
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