PENN’S HOUSE. 1

One of the most interesting buildings in Philadelphia is the "Slate-roof House," on the southeast corner of Norris’s Alley and Second Street, a little south of Chestnut Street. It was built about 1690 for Samuel Carpenter, and was occupied by William Penn as his city residence in the year 1700. 2 There was the birth-place of John Penn, the governor of Pennsylvania when the Revolution broke out, the only child of William Penn born in this country. From that circumstance he was called "the American." There, in 1702, Lord Cornbury, then governor of New York and New Jersey, was magnificently entertained, with his suite of fifty persons. James Logan, William Penn’s agent, also entertained him at Pennsbury, in a style quite in dissonance with the plain character of Quakers. This house was sold to William Trent, the founder of Trenton, in 1703. For nearly fifty years afterward it was occupied by some of the first men of Philadelphia (among whom was Deputy-governor Hamilton), when it became noted as a superior boarding-house. There General Forbes, the successor of Braddock, died in 1759. In 1761 it was rented by the Widow Graydon, mother of Captain Graydon, the author of "Memoirs of Sixty Years’ Life in Pennsylvania." Captain Graydon describes the house as "a singular, old-fashioned structure, laid out in the style of a fortification, with abundance of angles, both salient and re-entering. Its two wings projected to the street in the manner of bastions, to which the main building, retreating from sixteen to eighteen feet, served as a curtain. It had a spacious yard half way to Front Street, ornamented with a double row of venerable, lofty pines, which afforded a very agreeable rus in urbe in the heart of the city." 3 John Adams and other members of the first Continental Congress boarded in the Slate-roof House; and there many British officers had lodgings while the city was in possession of the royal troops in 1778. A young ladies’ boarding-school was kept there at one time, in which a daughter of General Wayne was educated. 4 General Arnold occupied it as his residence while military governor of Philadelphia in 1778; and there were given those splendid entertainments before and after his marriage with Miss Shippen, which contributed to involve him in those debts that aided in producing his defection to the American cause.

Strolling down South Second Street, I came to an antiquated building, at No. 177, known as "Loxley’s House." Its gallery in front was sometimes used as a preaching-place by Whitefield. The house was then out of town, over "the Second Street Bridge." In front of it was a gentle hill, whose slopes afforded a fine resting-place for the immense audiences who listened to the great missionary. On that hill Captain (afterward General) Cadwallader used to drill his "silk stocking company." 5 Mr. Loxley, the first owner of the house, was a lieutenant of artillery under Braddock, and was present at the defeat of that general at the Great Meadows.

Mrs. Darrah now possessed a momentous secret. She was a true friend to her country, and she felt that she had a duty to perform, and that quickly. In the still hour of the night she sent up a silent petition for heavenly guidance, and at dawn she was astir. She awoke her husband, and informed him that flour was wanted for family use, and that she must go immediately to Frankford for it, a common occurrence in those days. 6 It was a cold December morning, the snow several inches deep upon the ground [December 3, 1777.]. On foot, and with her bag in hand, she started on her errand, stopping at the head-quarters of General Howe 7 to obtain a passport to leave the city. Mrs. Darrah reached Frankford, nearly five miles distant, at an early hour, and, leaving her bag at the mill, pressed forward toward the American outposts to inform Washington of the intended night attack. She met Lieutenant-colonel Craig, who had been sent out by the commander-in-chief to gain information respecting the enemy. To him she told the secret, and, hastening back to the mill, shouldered the bag of flour, and returned home with a heart full of thankfulness for being made an instrument of usefulness to her country, as she believed, and as the result proved.

From her window, on that cold starry night which succeeded her morning mission, she watched the departure of the British troops to make the attack on Washington’s camp. And again she watched from that window when the distant roll of a drum heralded their return from "a fool’s errand," indeed; for, "forewarned, forearmed," the Americans were on the alert, and fully prepared to receive the enemy when they came. Foiled, the British returned to their encampment in the city. The adjutant general came to his quarters. He summoned Lydia to his room, and, locking his door with an air of mystery, bade her be seated. "Were any of your family up, Lydia," he asked, "on the night when I received company in this house?" "No," she unhesitatingly replied; "they all retired at eight o’clock." This was true, though Lydia afterward arose. "It is very strange," said the officer. "You, I know, Lydia, were asleep, for I knocked at your door three times before you heard me, yet it is certain that we were betrayed. I am altogether at a loss to conceive who could have given information to Washington of our intended attack! On arriving near his encampment, we found his cannon mounted, his troops under arms, and so prepared at every point to receive us, that we have been compelled to march back without injuring our enemy, like a parcel of fools." 8 Mrs. Darrah enjoined Lieutenant-colonel Craig not to disclose her name, for she feared the fury of the enemy; history has therefore omitted the name of Lydia Darrah in its record of events at that time, and left well-authenticated tradition alone to embalm it. 9

Fronting the river, near the present navy-yard, stood Wharton’s Mansion-house, with broad lawns and stately trees around it. The building is yet [1854] there, on Fifth Street, devoted to mechanical purposes. There, on Monday, the 18th of May, 1778, was given a great entertainment in honor of Sir William Howe and his brother Richard, earl Howe (the naval commander), the former on the eve of his departure from America. It was called the Mischianza, an Italian word signifying a medley. This entertainment was probably the most magnificent exhibition of extravagance and folly ever witnessed in America. It very properly drew forth the indignant comments of not only the Whigs in America, but of the true friends of government here and in England, as an appropriate finale to the sensualities of the British army during its winter encampment in Philadelphia. 10 The loose discipline of the army, during those six months of idleness, did more to weaken the power of the enemy than all the battles they had yet experienced here, and fully justified the remark of Franklin, that "General Howe has not taken Philadelphia – Philadelphia has taken General Howe." Major Andrè, in the sub-joined letter 11 to a friend, has given a graphic picture of the Mischianza. It was published in the Annual Register, a London magazine, for the year 1778.

THE WALNUT STREET PRISON. 12

On Walnut Street, near Sixth, was the prison used as the British Provost in 1778. It was under the charge of that infamously cruel scoundrel, Captain Cunningham, a burly, ill-natured Irishman of sixty years, whose conduct as provost marshal here and in New York has connected his name with all that is detestable. There were confined the American prisoners taken at Brandywine and Germantown, many of whom died of starvation after feeling the lash of Cunningham’s whip, or the force of his heavy boot, and were buried in the Potter’s Field near by, now the beautiful Washington Square. It makes the blood curdle to read of the sufferings of those who fell under the sway of that monster, so devilish in all his ways. The miseries of others seemed to give him great delight; and often, in the sight of the starving prisoners, would he kick over a pail of soup, or scatter a basket of fruit or cold victuals which some benevolent hand had placed upon the door-stone with the hope that it might nourish the famished soldiers! We shall meet him hereafter as provost marshal in New York. Tradition says he was hung at Newgate, in England; but the records of that prison, examined by Mr. Bancroft, exhibit no such name.

From Washington Square I walked to No. 13 South Sixth Street, to view the ancient edifice on the premises of the late P. S. Duponceau, Esq., mentioned by Watson, in his Annals, as the "Office of the Secretary of Foreign Affairs." 13 I was disappointed, for improvement had demolished the venerated building, and stately edifices, dedicated to traffic, occupied its place. Referring to this building, Mr. Watson observes: "It is a house appropriately owned by such a possessor [Duponceau]; for in it he who came as a volunteer to join our fortune, and to aid our cause, as a captain under Baron Steuben, became afterward one of the under secretaries to our minister of Foreign Relations, and in that building gave his active and early services. In the year 1782-3, under that humble roof, presided, as our then Secretary for Foreign Affairs, the Honorable Robert R. Livingston. Up stairs, in the small front room facing the street, sat that distinguished personage, wielding, by his mind and pen, the destinies of our nation. In the adjoining back room sat the two under secretaries – Louis R. Morris, since governor of Vermont, 14 and our venerated citizen, Mr. Duponceau. These having charge of the archives of the nation, they preserved them all within the inclosure of a small wooden press! The only room down stairs, on the ground floor, was that occupied by the two clerks and the interpreter. One of these clerks, Mr. Henry Remsen, was afterward president of a bank in New York; 15 and the other, Mr. Stone, has been governor of Maryland. The translator was the Reverend Mr. Tetard, the pastor of the French Reformed Church." 16 The house, at that time, was quite beyond the verge of city population; now the site is near the center of business. There are other localities of lesser note, made memorable by events of the Revolution. I can not note them all, for other scenes of more general interest demand our attention. The curious in such matters may find a full reward in perusing Watson’s Annals of Philadelphia, which contain nearly all that is worth remembering of the past of that city.

The sites of many scenes of the Revolution are covered up and forgotten forever. I tried in vain to find some living person who could point out the localities of the intrenchments which Howe caused to be thrown up across the isthmus at Philadelphia, between the Delaware and the Schuylkill, and the place of the encampment of the British army when they first occupied the city. I am enabled, however, to point out those localities through the aid of a more reliable cicerone than tradition, a rare and valuable map of Philadelphia, 17 published in London in 1779, the year following the evacuation of that city by the British. It was drawn by competent engineers in the king’s service. It is upon the same scale as the plan of Philadelphia published in Tanner’s Atlas in 1843. By a careful comparison of the two I have obtained the following result, which I am satisfied is quite correct: The line of intrenchrnents from the Delaware to the Schuylkill extended from the mouth of Conoquonoque Creek, just above Willow Street, to the "Upper Ferry" on the Schuylkill, then nearly on a line with Callowhill Street. They consisted of ten redoubts, connected by strong palisades. The first redoubt, which was garrisoned by the Queen’s Rangers, under Simcoe, was near the junction of Green and Oak Streets, and then near the forks of the roads leading to Frankford and Kensington. The second redoubt was a little west of North Second and Noble Streets; the third, between North Fifth and Sixth, and Noble and Buttonwood Streets; the fourth, on Eighth Street, between Noble and Buttonwood; the fifth, on Tenth, between Buttonwood and Pleasant; the sixth, on Buttonwood, between Thirteenth and North Broad; the seventh, on North Schuylkill Eighth, between Pennsylvania Avenue and Hamilton Street; the eighth, on North Schuylkill Fifth and Pennsylvania Avenue; the ninth, on North Schuylkill Second, near Callowhill Street; and the tenth, on the bank of the Schuylkill, at the "Upper Ferry."

The encampment extended westward from North Fifth, between Vine and Callowhill, as far as North Schuylkill Second. The Hessian grenadiers were encamped between Callowhill, Noble, Fifth, and Seventh Streets. The fourth, fortieth, and fifty-fifth British grenadiers, and a body of fusileers, were on the north side of Callowhill, between Seventh and Fourteenth Streets. Eight regiments lay upon high ground, known as Bush’s Hills, extending from Fourteenth, nearly on a line with Vine, to the Upper Ferry. Near the redoubt at the Ferry was another body of Hessians. The Yagers, horse and foot, were encamped upon a hill near the junction of North Schuylkill Front and Pennsylvania Avenue. On the Ridge Road, near Thirteenth Street, and on Eighth, near Green, were corps of infantry. Light dragoons and three regiments of infantry were posted near a pond between Vine, Race, North Eighth, and Twelfth Streets. Gray’s, or "Lower Ferry," was at the grounds of the Naval Arsenal, on the Schuylkill. A little below the "Middle Ferry," at the foot of Chestnut Street, on the Schuylkill, was a fascine redoubt, and near it the seventy-first regiment was encamped. Some Yagers were stationed at the "Point House" (see map on page 92), opposite Gloucester. These localities, with those of the redoubts mentioned on page 104, were all out of the city; its extent then being from Christian Street on the south, to Callowhill Street on the north, or the boundary of Spring Garden. It was widest between Arch and Walnut Streets, where it extended from the Delaware to Ninth Street. 18

When winter set in, many of the troops, and all the officers, occupied the public buildings and houses of the inhabitants, also the old British barracks in the Northern Liberties. The artillery were quartered in Chestnut Street, between Third and Sixth Streets, and the State House yard was made a park for their use. During the winter, General Howe occupied a house on High Street, where Washington afterward resided; 19 his brother, Lord Howe, resided in Chestnut Street, in the building occupied by the Farmers and Mechanics Bank; General Knyphausen lived in South Second, opposite Little Dock Street; Cornwallis’s quarters were in Second, above Spruce Street; and Major Andrè dwelt in Dr. Franklin’s mansion in a court back from High Street. 20

As soon as the British had taken possession of Philadelphia, they erected three batteries near the river, to protect the city against the American shipping. 21 Before the batteries were finished, Commodore Hazlewood ordered the Delaware and Montgomery frigates, each of twenty-four guns, and the sloop Fly, some galleys and gondolas, to move near and attack them. On the morning of the 27th of September [1777.], they opened a cannonade upon the works. The Delaware grounded, at the falling of the tide, near the present Upper Ferry to Camden from Kensington, and, before she could be got off, the guns of the British batteries compelled her colors to be struck. A schooner was driven ashore, and the remainder of the vessels escaped down the river. The affair was badly managed, and disaster followed. These batteries, as well as the lines of fortifications from the Delaware to the Schuylkill, have long since passed away.

During the occupation of the city, the enemy were annoyed by the patriots in various ways. In January, some Whigs at Bordentown sent a number of kegs down the Delaware, which were filled with powder, and furnished with machinery, in such a manner that, on rubbing against any object in the stream, they would immediately explode. These torpedoes were the invention of Mr. Bushnell, of Connecticut, and will be noticed hereafter. They were intended for the destruction of the British shipping then lying in the river opposite Philadelphia. It so happened that, on the very night when these kegs were sent down, the vessels were hauled into the docks to avoid the effects of the ice then rapidly forming. They thus escaped mischief. One of these kegs exploded near the city, and spread general alarm. Not a stick or chip floated for twenty-four hours afterward but it was fired at by the British troops. This battle of the kegs furnished the theme for a facetious poem from the pen of Francis Hopkinson, Esq., one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. 22

On the night of the Mischianza, while the enemy were enjoying the festivities of the fête, Colonel Allen M‘Lane, father of one of our ministers to the court of St. James, devised a stratagem to break them up. At ten o’clock he reached the abatis in front of the British works with one hundred and fifty men, in four divisions, supported by Clow’s dragoons. They carried camp-kettles filled with combustibles, and at a given signal they fired the whole line of abatis. The British beat the long alarm roll, and the assailants were attacked and pursued by the strong guard along the lines. The officers at the fête managed to keep the ladies ignorant of the cause of the tumult without. M‘Lane and his associates escaped to the hills of the Wissahicon, and bent their way toward Valley Forge. This was the last time the British felt the annoyance of the patriots while in Philadelphia; for they soon afterward evacuated the city, crossed the Delaware, and marched for New York. We shall overtake them on the plains of Monmouth.

Mrs. Esther Reed, the wife of General Joseph Reed, though feeble in health, and surrounded by family cares, entered with hearty zeal into the service, and was, by the united voice of her associates, placed at the head of the society. 23

Mrs. Sarah Bache, daughter of Dr. Franklin, was also a conspicuous actor in the formation of the association, and in carrying out its plans. All classes became interested, and the result was glorious. "All ranks of society seemed to have joined in the liberal effort, from Phillis, the colored woman, with her humble seven shillings and sixpence, to the Marchioness De La Fayette, who contributed one hundred guineas in specie, 24 and the Countess De Luzerne, who gave six thousand dollars in Continental paper. 25 Those who had no money to contribute gave the service of their hands in plying the needle, and in almost every house the good work went on. It was charity in its genuine form, and from its purest source – the voluntary outpourings from the heart. It was not stimulated by the excitements of our day – neither fancy fairs or bazars; but the American women met, and, seeing the necessity that asked interposition, relieved it. They solicited money and other contributions directly and for a precise and avowed object. They labored with their needles, and sacrificed their trinkets and jewelry." 26 The Marquis De Chastellux, who was in Philadelphia while these efforts were in progress, was delighted with the event. In describing a visit to several of the American ladies, he says, "We began by Mrs. Bache. She merits all the anxiety we had to see her, for she is the daughter of Mr. Franklin. Simple in her manners, like her respectable father, she possesses his benevolence. She conducted us into a room filled with work, lately finished by the ladies of Philadelphia. This work consisted neither of embroidered tambour waistcoats, nor net-work edgings, nor of gold and silver brocade – it was a quantity of shirts for the soldiers of Pennsylvania. The ladies bought the linen from their own private purses, and took a pleasure in cutting them out and sewing them themselves. On each shirt was the name of the married or unmarried lady who made it, and they amounted to twenty-two hundred." 27 The results of this effort were great and timely. The aggregate amount of contributions in the city and county of Philadelphia was estimated at seven thousand five hundred dollars in specie value. Added to this was a princely donation from Robert Morris of the contents of a ship fully laden with military stores and clothing, which had unexpectedly arrived. 28 During the cold winter that followed, hundreds of poor soldiers in Washington’s camp had occasion to bless the women of Philadelphia for their labor of love.

On the morning of the 29th of November [1848.], I left Philadelphia for Germantown, about six miles distant, accompanied by Mr. Agnew, who journeyed with me to Whitemarsh, Barren Hill, Valley Forge, and Paoli. It was a delightful morning, the air a little frosty. The road from the city to its ancient suburban village passes through a pleasant, undulating country, and was swarming with vehicles of every kind a greater portion of the way. The village of Germantown extends along a fine Macadamized road for nearly three miles, having no lateral streets, and, though so near a great commercial city, few places in the United States present more striking appearances of antiquity. Twenty or thirty of the low, steep-roofed, substantial stone houses, with quaint pent-eaves and ponderous cornices, built by the early inhabitants, yet remain, and produce a picturesque feature in the midst of the more elegant modern mansions of a later generation. 29 It was first laid out and a settlement commenced under a grant to Francis Daniel Pastorius in 1684. He purchased six thousand acres from William Penn, and the whole was settled by Germans. James Logan, the confidential secretary of Penn, had a favorite country house upon a hill at the southern end of the village, which is still called Logan’s Hill. 30

We proceeded to the north end of the village, and reined up at the entrance gate of "Chew’s House," the most noted and attractive relic of the Revolution now in Germantown. It stands back several rods from the street, on the east side, and is surrounded by noble trees and shrubbery in profusion. The house is a spacious stone edifice with ample wings. In various parts of the grounds were the mutilated remains of several fine marble statues and vases, some standing, others lying upon the ground. They are evidences of the refined taste of its distinguished owner, Chief-justice Chew, 31 and at the same time melancholy mementoes of the destructive character of war. These fine specimens of sculpture were all perfect before the conflict known as the Battle of Germantown occurred; they were battered, broken, and cast down by the cannon-balls hurled on that occasion. We passed an hour with the venerable present owner of the mansion, the widow of a son of Chief-justice Chew. She received us with much courtesy, and seemed to take pleasure in leading us to various parts of the grounds. The walls of the large room on the south are covered with old paintings, chiefly family portraits, many of them by eminent artists, and possessing much merit. Mrs. Chew showed me several mementoes of the battle, among which are the scars seen at the head of the great stair-case, which were made by the passage of a cannon-ball through the house. In the stable we saw the old doors of the mansion, completely riddled by musket-balls. Mrs. Chew informed us that the house was so much injured, that four or five carpenters were employed a whole winter in repairing it.

The battle of Germantown was fought on the morning of the 4th of October, 1777. Defeated on the banks of the Brandywine [September 11, 1777.], Washington retreated, with his whole army, back to Philadelphia, and encamped at Germantown. As soon as his soldiers were rested and refreshed, 32 he recrossed the Schuylkill [September 16.], and marched to oppose the army of Howe, then pressing on toward Philadelphia. The two armies met near the Warren Tavern, on the Lancaster road, within twenty miles of the city. Washington made preparations to attack the left wing of the enemy, and an engagement was about to take place a little north of the Goshen meeting-house, when a violent storm of rain came on suddenly, wet the powder of both parties, and prevented a conflict. The storm continued all night, and before dawn the enemy left their position, and moved down the road leading to Swedes Ford. Perceiving this, Washington crossed the Schuylkill above them at Parker’s Ford, hoping to be able to confront them while on their passage of the river. Howe did not cross, but wheeled and made a rapid march up the right bank of the stream toward Reading. Supposing Howe’s design to be either to turn the right of his army, or to get possession of the American stores deposited at Reading. Washington moved his forces up the river near to Pottsgrove (now Pottstown), twenty miles above Norristown. Howe’s march seemed to have been a movement to deceive Washington; for, as soon as the latter moved to Pottsgrove, the former wheeled his army, marched rapidly down the river, crossed it at the Fatland Ford and vicinity (a little above Norristown), and pushed forward to Philadelphia [September 26, 1777.]. 33 That whole region of country, awed by the presence of the British army, was disaffected toward the American cause, and Washington could obtain no reliable information of the enemy’s movements. With correct intelligence, he probably would have foiled Howe by skillful maneuvers, and saved Philadelphia. 34

At a council of officers called by Washington, it was arranged that the divisions of Sullivan and Wayne, flanked by Conway’s brigade, were to enter the town by the way of Chestnut Hill, while General Armstrong, 35 with the Pennsylvania militia, should fall down the Manatawny road by Van Deering’s mill, and get upon the enemy’s left and rear. The divisions of Greene and Stephen, flanked by M‘Dougall’s brigade, were to enter by making a circuit by way of the Lime-kiln road, at the market-house, and to attack the enemy’s right wing; and the Maryland and Jersey militia, under Generals Smallwood and Forman, were to march by the old York road and fall upon the rear of their right. Lord Stirling, with the brigades of Nash and Maxwell, were to form a reserve corps. 36

After dark, on the evening of the 3d of October, Washington, with his army, moved silently from his camp on Metuchen Hill, upon Skippack Creek, toward Germantown. He accompanied the column of Sullivan and Wayne in person. Small parties were sent out to secure every man who might give the enemy notice of his approach, and every precaution was taken to insure complete surprise. He tried to reach the British pickets at Chestnut Hill before daylight; but the roughness of the roads over which his army marched prevented, and it was almost sunrise when he emerged from the woods on that elevation. His approach had been discovered at early dawn by the British patrols, who gave the alarm. The troops were soon called to arms, and placed in battle order on Mount Airy, about a mile north of Chew’s house in Germantown. At seven o’clock Sullivan’s advanced party, drawn chiefly from Conway’s brigade, and led by that officer, fell upon the British pickets at Allen’s house, at Mount Airy, where they had two six-pounders, and drove them back to the main body near, which consisted chiefly of the fortieth regiment and a battalion of light infantry. Sullivan’s main body now left the road, moved to the right through the fields, formed in a lane leading from Allen’s house toward the Schuylkill, and joined in the attack with so much vigor and such overwhelming numbers, that the enemy, after a sharp engagement of twenty minutes, gave way, and fell back to the village, closely pursued by the victors. Colonel Musgrave, who commanded the British center, thus furiously attacked, threw himself, with five companies of the fortieth regiment, into Judge Chew’s large stone house, pictured on page 108, from which such a severe discharge of musketry was poured upon Woodford’s brigade, which was pursuing the flying enemy, that their progress was checked. The fire of the small arms of the patriots upon this refuge was quite ineffectual. General Reed, it is said, proposed to continue the pursuit of the remainder of the enemy, who were then in great confusion, and turning their faces toward Philadelphia; but General Knox, of the artillery, opposed the suggestion, as being against all military rule "to leave an enemy in a fort in the rear." "What!" exclaimed Reed, "call this a fort, and lose the happy moment!" They sought for Conway to decide the point, but he was not to be found. Knox’s opinion prevailed, and pursuit was abandoned.

A flag was now sent by a young man 37 to demand a formal and immediate surrender. The bearer was slain by a bullet when within musket-shot of the house. Cannons were now brought to bear upon the house by the artillery regiment of Maxwell’s brigade; but so strong were the walls and so courageous were the inmates, that it was found impossible to dislodge them. Attempts were made to set the house on fire, but without success. 38 Many of the Americans were killed in the assault, while scarcely a man of the garrison was wounded. The attempt to dislodge the enemy caused many of the American troops to halt, and brought back Wayne’s division, which had advanced far beyond the house. This totally uncovered Sullivan’s left flank, which was advancing toward the enemy’s left, and disconcerted all their plans.

General Grey, now having absolute possession of the village, hastened to the aid of the right wing, which was engaged with the left of Greene’s column. Sullivan’s division, with a regiment of North Carolinians, commanded by Colonel Armstrong, and assisted by a part of Conway’s brigade, having driven the enemy to School-house Lane, in the center of Germantown, found themselves unsupported by other troops, and their ammunition exhausted. They could dimly perceive through the fog that the enemy were collecting in force on the right. At that moment, hearing the cry of a light horseman that the enemy had surrounded them, and perceiving the firing at Chew’s house, so far in the rear, the Americans became panic-stricken, and retreated with great precipitation. 39 The divisions under Greene and Stephen were the last that retreated, and these were covered by Count Pulaski and his legion. The prize of victory was abandoned at the moment when another effort might have secured it. 40

The battle of Germantown, which lasted two hours and forty minutes, was a very severe one, and the loss on both sides was great, considering the numbers engaged and the nature of the conflict. The amount of loss has been variously computed; that of the Americans was estimated by Washington, a fortnight after the battle, 41 at about one thousand men in killed, wounded, and missing. 42 There were fewer killed on the part of the British, the number probably not exceeding one hundred; while their whole loss, according to Howe’s official account of the affair, was, in killed, wounded, and missing, five hundred and thirty-five. 43 Among these were several valuable officers, the most distinguished of whom were General James Agnew 44 and Lieutenant-colonel Bird. Their remains lie inhumed together, in the south burying-ground at Germantown. Over their grave I saw a neat marble slab, erected to their memory by J. F. Watson, Esq., the annalist. In the north burying-ground the same gentleman has set up a stone over the graves of Captain Turner, of North Carolina, Major Irvine, and six soldiers of the American army, who were slain in the battle, and buried there together. General Nash, of North Carolina, 45 and Majors Sherburne and White, 46 the two aids of General Sullivan, were also among the slain.

Although the Americans were defeated, or rather retreated from almost certain victory, no blame was attached to the commander-in-chief and the general officers under his command. On the contrary, when Washington’s letter to Congress, describing the battle, was read [October 8, 1777.], that body passed a vote of thanks to him for his "wise and well-concerted attack upon the enemy’s army near Germantown," and to "the officers and soldiers of the army for their brave exertions on that occasion." A medal was also ordered to be struck and presented to General Washington. 47 It was never executed.

Lord Cornwallis sped to the succor of the British camp at Germantown as soon as intelligence of the attack upon it reached General Howe. He took with him a corps of cavalry and grenadiers; but when he arrived, the Americans had left, and retired to their camp on Skippack Creek. There Washington remained until the 29th [October, 1777.], when a council of war was held, 48 and the next day he removed, with the whole army under his command, to the range of hills about three fourths of a mile northeast from the village of Whitemarsh, where he intended to go into winter quarters. Thither we also went on leaving Germantown at noon.

Several expeditions were suggested and planned, but a want of shoes rendered a large portion of the army unfit for marching. A council of war was called on the 25th of November, to consider the propriety of making an attack upon Philadelphia while Cornwallis was absent in New Jersey, whither he had gone to take possession of Red Bank and the neighboring region. The decision of the council was a negative, and the scheme was abandoned. Early in December, the enemy attempted to surprise Washington in his camp, but success was denied them by the patriotic service of Lydia Darrah of Philadelphia, noticed on page 95 {original text has 301.}. The British appeared upon Chestnut Hill, about three miles from Washington’s camp, at dawn on the morning of the 5th of December [1777.]. As soon as their position was discovered, the Pennsylvania militia were ordered out to skirmish with their light advanced parties. Brigadier-general Irvine, who led the detachment, was wounded and made prisoner. On the next day (Friday) the enemy changed ground, and approached within a mile of the American lines, where they remained until Sunday, when they moved further to the left, and seemed to be preparing for a general attack. Their advanced and flanking parties were warmly attacked by Colonel Morgan and his rifle corps, and Colonel Gist with the Maryland militia. The battle was quite severe. Twenty-seven men in Morgan’s corps were killed and wounded, besides Major Morris, a brave and gallant officer, who was badly maimed. Sixteen or seventeen of the Maryland militia were wounded. 49 The loss of the enemy was considerable. On Monday, the 8th [December, 1777.], when the movements of the British gave Washington every reason to believe that an immediate attack was to be made, he was surprised to perceive them, instead of advancing, commence a precipitate march, by two routes, for Philadelphia. As their adjutant remarked to Mrs. Darrah, they had been on a fool’s errand and accomplished nothing. "I sincerely wish," wrote Washington to the president of Congress, "that they had made an attack, as the issue, in all probability, from the disposition of our troops and the strong situation of our camp, would have been fortunate and happy. At the same time, I must add, that reason, prudence, and every principle of policy, forbade us from quitting our post to attack them." General Howe, in his dispatches, said, "They were so strongly intrenched that it was impossible to attack them." They had no other intrenchments than two small redoubts, one on each hill near the head-quarters. Three days afterward Washington broke up his encampment at Whitemarsh, and, in the midst of a deep snow, marched to the Schuylkill, crossed it at Swedes’ Ford, and established his winter quarters at Valley Forge. Hundreds of the soldiers made that dreary march of nineteen miles with bare feet, and the pathway of the patriot army might have been traced all the way by hundreds of foot-marks in the snow stained with blood. 50 Let us follow them thither, and in the head-quarters of the chief, which stands near the banks of the Schuylkill, sit down and ponder upon the wondrous love of country which kept that suffering army together during the winter and spring of 1778.

As this is the first time in the course of our journey that we have met La Fayette as commander-in-chief of an expedition, it is a proper place to consider the circumstances attending his espousal of the cause of freedom, and his connection with the American Continental army. He was a young man, not yet nineteen years old, when our Declaration of Independence went over the seas, and commanded the admiration of thinkers in the Old World. La Fayette was of noble ancestry. He had just married the Countess Anastasia de Noailles, daughter of the Duke De Noailles, a lady of great personal beauty, immense fortune, and brilliant accomplishments. 51 When the story of America’s wrongs, and of her holy struggle for the right, just begun, reached his ears, it inflamed his young heart with the most passionate sympathy, and an ardent desire to aid them with his purse and sword. 52 He openly espoused the cause of the patriots, and resolved to hasten to their support. Not all the blandishments of rank and fortune, the endearments of conjugal love, made doubly so by promise of offspring, nor the sad tales of reverses to the American arms at the close of 1776, which every vessel from our shores carried to Europe, could repress his zeal or deter him from the execution of his noble purpose. He had just offered his services to Silas Deane, one of the American commissioners at Paris, 53 when the news arrived that the remnant of the American army, reduced to two thousand insurgents, as they were called, had fled toward Philadelphia through the Jerseys, before an army of thirty thousand British regulars. This news frustrated all the plans of Deane for the moment, for it utterly destroyed the little credit which America then had in Europe. Franklin arrived at this juncture, and was greatly pleased with the young marquis and the disinterested zeal which he exhibited, but honestly advised him to abandon his design until better hope for success should appear. But this candid advice was of no avail. The commissioners had not sufficient credit to command the means to fit out a vessel for the purpose of conveying the marquis and his friends, with arms, ammunition, and stores. La Fayette offered to purchase a ship with his own funds. "Hitherto," he said, in the spirit of true heroism, "I have only cherished your cause; now I am going to serve it. The lower it is in the opinion of the people, the greater effect my departure will have; and since you can not get a vessel, I shall purchase and fit out one, to carry your dispatches to Congress and me to America." 54 He went over to London, and mingled freely with the leading politicians there. He danced at the house of Lord George Germaine, the minister for the affairs of America, and at the house of Lord Rawdon, who had just returned from New York, paid his personal respects to the king, and met, at the opera, General Clinton, whom he was afterward to meet on the field of battle at Monmouth. 55 While he concealed his intentions of going to America, he openly avowed his sentiments; often defended the Americans; rejoiced at their success at Trenton; and his opposition spirit obtained for him an invitation to breakfast with Lord Shelburne. He refused invitations to visit sea-ports where vessels were fitting out against the Americans, for he was unwilling to do aught that might afterward be construed into an abuse of confidence. 56

LA FAYETTE IN 1777. 57

La Fayette obeyed orders, and returned to Marseilles. He pleaded the justice of the cause in which the Americans were engaged; their declared independence as a people, and various precedents which might justify his course, and petitioned for leave to proceed. His pleadings were in vain, and he resolved to risk the displeasure of his king. Stealthily making his way back to Passage, he set sail with a favorable wind, accompanied by De Kalb, and eleven other French, German, and Polish officers, who were about seeking service in America. He arrived safely at Georgetown, in South Carolina, on the 19th of April, after a boisterous passage of seven weeks, where he and his company were entertained by Major Huger, who provided horses to convey them to Charleston. His vessel likewise was taken to Charleston harbor. 58

La Fayette and his companions traveled by land from Charleston to Philadelphia. When arrived at the latter place, he put his letters into the hands of Mr. Lovell, the chairman of the committee of Congress on foreign affairs. The next day his papers were handed back to him by Mr. Lovell, with the remark that so many foreigners had offered themselves for employment that Congress was embarrassed with their applications, and he was sorry to inform him that there was very little hope of his success. The marquis was convinced that his papers had not been read. He immediately sent a note to the president of Congress, in which he asked permission to serve in the Continental army upon two conditions; first, that he should receive no pay; secondly, that he should act as a volunteer. These conditions were so different from those demanded by other foreigners, that they were at once accepted by Congress. Although he was not yet twenty years of age, the peculiar position in which his wealth, fervent zeal, and social eminence at home, placed him before the American people, gave him great importance, and on the 31st of July [1777.] Congress appointed him a major general in the Continental army. This appointment was considered by Congress as merely honorary, but such was not the intention of the recipient, as subsequent events will show. 59

La Fayette was anxious to have a command suitable to the rank which his commission conferred; but Congress, fearing his appointment to the command of a division might excite the jealousy of American officers, had withheld the coveted honor from the marquis. Washington repeatedly suggested the expediency of a different course; but it was not until the 1st of December that the wishes of La Fayette were gratified. On that day Congress resolved, "That General Washington be informed it is highly agreeable to Congress that the Marquis De La Fayette be appointed to the command of a division in the Continental army." 60 Three days afterward [December 4.] it was proclaimed, in public orders, that he was to take command of the division recently under General Adam Stephen, who, as we have seen, was dismissed from the army. 61

La Fayette was engaged in various important services during the winter and spring of 1778, while the American army was at Valley Forge; and about the middle of May we find him on Barren Hill, our present point of view. Intelligence had reached Washington in his camp that the British were making preparations to evacuate Philadelphia. They were frequently sending out foraging parties between the Schuylkill and Delaware Rivers; and on the 7th of May an expedition went up the Delaware to destroy all the American shipping between Philadelphia and Trenton. Forty-four American vessels were burned; a considerable quantity of provisions and stores were destroyed, and a number of the inhabitants killed and wounded. To restrain these depredations; to cut off all communication in that direction between the country and Philadelphia; to obtain correct information concerning the movements of the enemy; and to be ready to follow with a considerable force immediately in the rear of the British army, when it should leave Philadelphia, Washington detached La Fayette, with about twenty-one hundred troops and five pieces of cannon, across the Schuylkill on the 18th of May [1778.]. He took post at Barren Hill (nearly twelve miles from Valley Forge), a little west of the church. It was a position skillfully chosen. On his right were rocky ledges of considerable extent, and the Schuylkill; on his left were thick woods, several strong stone houses, and the substantial stone church seen in the engraving. His cannon were placed in front; and at about three hundred yards in advance of the left wing were Captain M‘Lane’s company and fifty Indians. Picket-guards and videttes were stationed upon the woods leading to Philadelphia, and six hundred Pennsylvania militia were posted near Whitemarsh. The church was at the forks of the road, one branch of which led to Valley Forge, by the way of the Swedes’ Ford, and the other to Matson’s Ford. 62

The situation of La Fayette was now critical. Owing to the disobedience of orders on the part of the militia, on leaving Whitemarsh, General Grant’s approach was undiscovered, and the little band of Americans were nearly surrounded by a greatly superior force before they were aware of their danger. Early in the morning, scarlet coats were seen through the trees in the distant forest; and an officer, sent by La Fayette to reconnoiter, came back in haste with the information that a large British force was on the road leading from Whitemarsh to Swedes’ Ford, a little more than a mile from his encampment. The marquis at once comprehended the full extent of the danger, and a skillful maneuver was instantly conceived. He changed his front without disorder, stationed a large party in the church-yard, around which was a strong wall, 63 and drew up the remainder in such a manner as to be protected by the stone houses and thick woods. Ascertaining that the only road leading to Swedes’ Ford was in possession of the enemy, he resolved to retreat to Matson’s Ford, although the distance from his position was greater than from that of Grant. The road lay along the southern slope of hills, and was concealed by woods from the view of the enemy. The marquis dispatched several small parties through the woods, with orders to show themselves, at different points, as heads of columns, that the enemy might be deceived into the belief that he was marching to an attack. The maneuver was successful; and, while General Grant was halting, and preparing troops to meet these supposed attacks upon his flank, the Americans made a quick march to Matson’s Ford – General Poor 64 leading the advanced guard, and the marquis bringing up the rear. The heads of columns, who had deceived General Grant, gradually fell back and joined in the retreat, and the whole army arrived at the ford in safety. They crossed the Schuylkill with their artillery, took possession of the high grounds on the west side of the river, and formed in the order of battle. General Grant had marched to the church on Barren Hill, where he joined the division under Clinton, and discovered, with mortified pride, that he had been outmaneuvered by the "stripling Frenchman." It was too late to overtake the retreating patriots; the British pursued them as far as the ford, but, finding it impossible to cross over, they wheeled, and returned, disappointed and chagrined, to Philadelphia. In a skirmish with the enemy’s advanced parties at the ford, while the artillery was crossing, the Americans lost nine men killed and taken. The British lost two light horsemen killed, and several wounded. La Fayette and his troops marched back to the camp at Valley Forge, where they were greeted with the most enthusiastic congratulations.

It was almost sunset when we left the old church-yard on Barren Hill and departed for Conshohocken 65 (Matson’s Ford), on the Schuylkill, where we intended to pass the night. Although four miles distant, we could see the smoke of its furnaces ascending above the intervening hill-tops, and marring the placid beauty of the western sky, where a thin purple haze fringed the horizon, and half hid the crescent moon and its more sprightly neighbor on the occasion, the belted Jupiter. That whole region abounds in iron; and all the way from Barren Hill to the Schuylkill, large heaps of ore, dug from near the surface, were piled. In many places the road was literally paved with iron ore lying in small fragments upon the surface. It was quite dark when we arrived at the village, and it was with some difficulty that we made our way along a steep road to the "hotel," a tavern near the river bank, kept by a good-natured Dutchman. He was so well patronized by the coal-heavers and workmen in the furnaces, that not a single bed was in reserve for strangers; so we were obliged to ride on to Norristown, four miles further up the stream, for supper and lodgings. As we thridded our way among the "fiery furnaces," belching huge volumes of ruddy flame, and observed the rushing rail-way train sweeping along the river brink, while the din of hammers, and bellows, and voices of busy men was rife on every side, I contrasted the past and present, and, in a degree, realized the wonderful strides of progress in our country. Here, where a numerous population are plying the tireless fingers of industry in the creation of substantial wealth, and spreading pleasant dwellings along the banks of the rapid Schuylkill, there was only the solitary hut of a hunter, deserted more than half the year, when La Fayette made his admirable retreat across the river toward Valley Forge. And far more suggestive of true greatness and glory were the noises of these work-shops than the trumpet-notes and clangor of battle.