Washington's Crossing 2016

I've been delinquent in posting, and since the last one, a tumultuous election occurred that provided an opportunity for consideration of what America was in the 18th Century and what it is now.  Leave it at that; one's answer to that question will flow directly from one's current assumptions and presumptions.  One thing that is consistent is the annual reenactment of the crossing of the Delaware River on Christmas Day, 1776.  The event takes on a kind of ritualism.  Still, it's a time for reflection. Credit goes to the reenactors as a cadre of near-clerics who keep alive the momentous nature of this event.  So without further comment, I'll share some of the images of the event today:

The Advance Party Lands

 First Boat Away

 One of Glover's Boatmen

Second Boat Away

 

 Washington's Boat

 The Commander in Chief

 Continental Army on the March

Shifting Alliances

The American Civil War is often portrayed as "brother against brother." The West Point class of 1846 yielded classmates Thomas J. "Stonewall" Jackson, Lieutenant General in the Confederate Army, and General George B. McClellan, Commanding General of the Union Army from 1861-62.  Similarly, during the French and Indian War, comrades and arms would face each other as enemies barely twenty years later.

Here is Braddock's Grave on Braddock's Road, not far from Fort Necessity.  British General Edward Braddock was mortally wounded at the Battle of the Monongahela about ten miles east of modern day Pittsburgh, in what is now known as Braddock, Pennsylvania.  The battle occurred on July 9, 1755.  Among the participants and members of Braddock's force were militia Colonel George Washington, Captain Horatio Gates, Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Gage, Captain Charles Lee and Captain William Mercer.  Washington, Gates, Lee and Mercer fought on the American side, and of course Gage on the British, during the Revolution.

As this is written, both Democrats and Republicans continue to engage in their respective civil wars, with former allies bitterly at odds.  It is always intriguing, in a watch the road accident sense, to contemplate betrayals.  People quite literally give their lives to others, and then become discarded when no longer needed or seen as liabilities.  

Where It All Began

The American historian Francis Parkman wrote in 1897 of Jumonville that, "[j]udge it as we may, this obscure skirmish began the war that set the world on fire." The incident led to the French and Indian war in North America, and the Seven Years War as it was known in Europe, which in turn set the stage for the Revolutionary War as much as World War in set the stage for World War II.  Here is the scene:

George Washington had been sent to the region by Virginia's Royal Governor, Robert Dinwiddie, to advise French military personnel to leave.  After an initial such overture failed, Washington, now a Lieutenant Colonel in the militia, returned and allied with Indian chiefs Tanacharison and Monacatootha, and about 10 warriors.  Washington was accompanied by Captain Adam Sephen; between them, they had about 40 British soldiers.  They surprised Ensign Joseph Coulon de Villiers de Jumonville and his 31 soldiers camping here after prior negotiations failed.  The French were slaughtered, and Tanacharison bashed in the wounded Jumonville's skull.  The event set in motion the ensuing French and Indian War.

It is a remarkable place to stand and absorb what happened here, in this still preserved wildnerness niche.  Stephen and his men came over the ledge of rock, while Washington came from the left, and the Native Americans from the right, cutting off the French attempt at escape.

Spain and the American Revolution

Most people think only of France when they think of American allies during the Revolutionary War.  Some may recall the contributions of individual military officers, such as Von Steuben or Pulaski, and think of other countries.  Often overlooked, though, was the contribution of Spain to the American cause.

In a small park in the middle of downtown Philadelphia stands a statue of Don Diego de Gardoqui, who became Spain's first ambassador to the United States.

Born in 1735, he was a Spanish businessman in a successful family business.  He served as a financial intermediary for Spain with the Americans, interacting with John Jay.  Through him, Spain supplied significant arms and munitions.  He died in 1798.

In a letter to Gardoqui after the war, dated January 20, 1786 from Mount Vernon, George Washington noted Gardoqui as one "whose good wishes were early engaged in the American cause, and who has attended to its progress thro' the various stages of the revolution."

Seeing the Past

On May 10, 1780, on his return to America, Lafayette met with General George Washington and Colonel Alexander Hamilton at Washington's headquarters in Morristown to advise of the formal entry of France on the side of the Americans.  Washington's headquarters was a couple of miles from the center of the town, the Green.  On the Green was Arnold's Tavern, which Washington used as his headquarters in 1777 after the Battle of Princeton when his troops camped at Jockey Hollow.  An imaginative sculpture interprets the event on the Green:

In the middle of the picture you can see the blue square sign in front of the Charles Schwab building that marks the site of Colonel Jacob Arnold's tavern that was on the green.   It is intriguing to imagine this conversation looking like this on the Green.  Elsewhere on the Green is another sculpture commemorating the militia, which Washington often despised.

Obama, the "Coffee Salute" and Washington

I registered for the draft in 1973, received my 1-A draft status.  Despite my lottery number somewhere in the 40s, I was never called up and did not serve.  Nonetheless, I had and continue to have respect for those who not only served, but were called into combat.  Significantly, those who serve follow orders--which have the force of law--and put their lives at risk based on the word of a superior officer.

Those who fought in the Revolution are mainly anonymous today, but followed the same obedience to orders of officers.  Indeed, there were times when Revolutionary War generals posted men at the rear with orders to shoot any soldiers who tried to run away during battle.  We find the veterans of that war throughout many churchyards up and down the East Coast, such as this grave of Matthew Reed at the St. Paul's burial ground in Norwalk, Connecticut:

With these thoughts in mind I was appalled at the cavalier treatment the current president of the United States, Barack Obama, gave to the two Marines saluting at the foot of Marine 1.  Descending the stairs, Obama gave a casual, dismissive "salute" by raising his coffee cup at the saluting Marines.  Meanwhile, we have been treated to many "public service announcements" by Michelle Obama and Jill Biden about how we need to honor our troops and veterans.  Obama might actually listen to the words those two are mouthing and show some modicum of respect.  He is the commander-in-chief and ought to understand the gravity of what that means.  Gestures are not just gestures; they are reflective of the core beliefs of someone.  For all his faults and restrained arrogance, you would not have found George Washington being so dismissive of his troops.

Battle of Monmouth Anniversary

Today, June 28, 2014, marks the 236th anniversary of the Battle of Monmouth, in New Jersey.  I have noted Monmouth in a couple of prior posts.  Today we look at the spot, marked by this sign, on Perrine Hill where General George Washington rallied and reformed Continental forces in view of General Charles Lee's retreat.

General Henry Clinton was moving the British forces from Philadelphia to Sandy Point to depart for New York.  Washington paralleled his movements to the north across New Jersey, and sought what he hoped would be a dispositive encounter with Clinton.  They came together at Monmouth.  A long battle, it resulted in the Americans retaining the field and Clinton continuing his withdrawal--in short, a draw, though often hailed as an American victory.

Putting all that aside, this is my favorite spot on the battlefield, because we are standing in the place where Washington took charge and regained control of the troop.  We can see him on his horse moving back and forth here, and we can see what he saw as he looked out over the battlefield.  It is one of those places that remains close to how it was then, and transports us across time to see and feel (and, on a hot day like today, especially) gain a sense of place.

The Economic Revolution

On July 10, 1778, following the Battle of Monmouth, on route to Paramus, New Jersey, part of the Continental army camped at Paterson. Washington's then secretary, James McHenry, recounts how he, Washington, Lafayette and Alexander Hamilton made their way to the falls and had lunch.  As McHenry later related, "with the assistance of a little spirit we composed some excellent grog.  Then we chatted away a very cheerful half hour--and then took our leave of the . . . meek falls of Pasaic [sic]--less noisy and boisterous than those of Niagara, or the more gentle Cohoes or the waters of the Mohawk."

Hamilton, impressed with the industrial potential of the falls and the area, later formed the Society for Establishing Useful Manufactures in 1791 as a forerunner of today's public-private partnership.  A statute of Hamilton looking towards the Falls is seen here.

Why We Need to Look at Public Monuments

I have focused on a variety of memorials to Revolutionary War military leaders; in Chicago is one to two of its civilian leaders who helped finance the revolution.  Sculpted between 1936 and 1941 is the Heald Square Monument to Robert Morris and Haym Salomon, together with Washington.  Its architects were Lorado Taft and Leonard Crunelle, and it was named a Chicago Landmark on September 15, 1971.

According to the National Park Service page on Salomon, he was arrested in 1776 as a spy, pardoned by the British and utilized as an interpreter, but he aided the American cause.  He was arrested again in 1778, when he escaped to Philadelphia.  A broker, his French connections helped with that financing, and he subscribed to the Bank of North America established by Robert Morris.  The Encyclopedia Britannica notes the debt at more than $600,000, and "[g]enerations of his descendants tried in vain to collect some portion of these loans, which had helped to impoverish Salomon in his last years." He died destitute at in his mid-forties.

I have read that the paperwork was conveniently "lost" by the United States when presented in the 19th century, with shades of anti-Semitism behind it.  Regardless, Salomon's story is not as well known as it should be.  It is another example of the mosaic of the Revolution and the "want of a nail" nature of so many pieces of the story.

Battlefields and Poems

The fierce and sudden snow of the other day that wreaked such havoc began to vanish as the temperatures again rose above freezing, so I went to Princeton Battlefield, looking for a sense of winter on the field of battle on January 3, 1777.  I have always been intrigued by the combined mass grave, shown here in the foreground.  We look through the remains of a mansion across the field and towards the American lines.

Alfred Noyes in May 1917 wrote a commemorative poem, a couple of lines which are on a grave marker shown here; the exact location may not be in this exact spot but we are told that 21 British and 15 American soldiers are buried together.  Part of the poem reads:

Through this May night, if one great ghost should stray
  With deep remembering eyes,
Where that old meadow of battle smiles away
  Its blood-stained memories,        
If Washington should walk, where friend and foe
  Sleep and forget the past,
Be sure his unquenched heart would leap to know
  Their souls are linked at last.

Noyes was the poet laureate of England, and wrote this poem for this battlefield years into the carnage of World War I.  It is, perhaps, hard to read the archaic lines from almost a century ago.  There is also something discordant about trying to express the horror of war in neatly rhyming and pseudo-soaring lines.  Still, what is interesting is the reference to the "linked souls" of enemies, buried together, and that they "sleep and forget the past." Such a lesson of forgiveness or forgetfulness is hardly reflected in the decades-old cycles of violence that circle the globe today.

Iron Works Hill, Greatness and the Mosaic of the Revolution

December 22 marks the Battle of Iron Works Hill in 1776 in Mt. Holly, New Jersey, on which I previously posted.  The "battle" was actually more of an artillery duel, with no casualties. The Americans suffered three wounded at the companion skirmish at Petticoat (Rancocas) Bridge.

Here is Mt. Holly today, giving a taste of the historic center of town.  This feint was part of Washington's diversionary plans in anticipation of his attack on Trenton on December 26, 1776.

So much of what passes for political discourse today is elevated gossip, focused on a handful of people.  Journalists focus incessantly on whether a particular president had a good day or bad day, as if that were the important news.  Washington's success at Trenton was of course in large part due to his leadership and determination, but would not have been possible but for the efforts of others.  Even the idea of attacking Trenton was not just Washington's; his aide, Colonel Joseph Reed, actually suggested the crossing of the Delaware and the attack.  The engagement's sole purpose, spread out over a wider geographic area around Mount Holly, was to draw Colonel Carl von Donop's 2000 man Hessian force from Bordentown, far enough from Trenton so as to remove a threat of reinforcement when Washington attacked.  And it worked.

It's good to remember this.  No one is great alone.

Kingston Mill, the Revolution and History

Kingston Mill, shown here during the East Coast snowstorm on December 14, is an historic spot.  

The bridge was a replacement built in 1798 for the wooden bridge destroyed by Washington after the Battle of Princeton.  About 100 yards away is a marker referring to the "horseback conference" in which Washington decided to take his force to Jockey Hollow for the winter rather than attack the British at New Brunswick.  After the Revolution, during the early part of the nineteenth century, the Delaware and Raritan Canal was built; there is a lock at Kingston past the left edge of the photograph.  Past the right edge of the photograph, the road was part of the Lincoln Highway designation in the early twentieth century.  The mill itself, testament to the Industrial Revolution, was built in the late nineteenth century.  This place is filled with history across the formation and growth of the country.

Thanksgiving and the Revolutionary War

A public day of thanksgiving was not always limited to the fourth Thursday in November, and not always related just to the Pilgrims.  Following the victory of the American forces over the British at Saratoga, the American commander in chief, George Washington, issued an order on December 17, 1777, setting aside the next day for solemnity (original spellings left intact):

"To morrow being the day set apart by the Honorable Congress for public Thanksgiving and Praise; and duty calling us devoutely to express our grateful acknowledgements to God for the manifold blessings he has granted us. The General directs that the army remain in it's present quarters, and that the Chaplains perform divine service with their several Corps and brigades. And earnestly exhorts, all officers and soldiers, whose absence is not indispensibly necessary, to attend with reverence the solemnities of the day."

Prior blog posts on the battles at Freeman's Farm and Bemis Heights are here and here.  Here is a view of the American river fortifications.

Washington, in his order, noted that "Altho' in some instances we unfortunately failed, yet upon the whole Heaven hath smiled on our Arms and crowned them with signal success; and we may upon the best grounds conclude, that by a spirited continuance of the measures necessary for our defence we shall finally obtain the end of our Warfare, Independence, Liberty and Peace."

An alternative set of thoughts, and a trip back in time, for this most American of holidays.

Boston, Dorchester Heights and Geography

On an extended business trip to Boston last week, I had occasion to take in the view from the top of the Prudential Tower.  Here is a view of Boston today, looking seaward, with Dorchester Heights just visible next to the tall building toward the right of the image, jutting into the water.  The small white monument just to the left of that building is at the top of the Heights.

It is hard to appreciate the strategic importance today, perhaps, in looking at the built-up nature of the city.  Nonetheless, we see a view that neither Washington nor Howe could see in assessing their options.

George Washington, Cincinnatus and the Presidency

     A couple of months ago I was in DC and made time to wander through the Smithsonian American Art Museum.  I came upon Washington Resigning His Commission, the 1841 sculpture by Ferdinand Pettrich.

     Framed by a bright light in the afternoon, the statue takes on an otherwordly aspect.  More prosaically, the gallery label notes that Washington turned down the powers offered him by the Congress.  His model was Cincinnatus, the Roman political leader who held dictatorial powers to defeat outside invaders, and relinquished all such powers to return to civilian life after his success.  He resigned the commission on December 23, 1783, in the Maryland State House in Annapolis.  A portrait of the event by John Trumbull hands in the Capitol Rotunda.

     The Smithsonian gallery label says in part: "Ferdinand Pettrich created this work when political power in the United States was being consolidated around the federal government. He may have felt that this historic moment in Washington’s life would remind a new generation of the nation's founding ideals, and of the dangers of too much power given to too few."

     The statue was made in 1841, barely 60 years since the Constitution was adopted.  Today the Imperial Presidency and those who continue to push that office to satisfy ego and narcissism would do well to stand in front of this statue and think about the gallery's suppositions.

Nathanael Greene Monument

So this is where Nathanael Greene, brilliant, self-taught Revolutionary War General, spends eternity, his ashes below the monument to him in Johnson Square, Savannah, Georgia.  This is the man who said: "We fight, get beaten, rise, and fight again."

Greene settled in Georgia after the war, about fourteen miles north of Savannah.  He died suddenly of sunstroke at the age of 43.

The plaque on this memorial states: "General Greene's remains were originally interred in the burial ground now known as Colonial Cemetery. His exact resting place was a matter of doubt and speculation for many years. The remains of the famed Revolutionary hero were found in the Graham vault in 1901, and were reinterred beneath this monument the following year."

I find this spot compelling.  One of the themes of this blog has been the force of place.  Here, we are in the physical proximity of the one of the greatest military figures of the Revolution, the man Washington would have had succeed him were he killed. 

Battle of the Clouds and the Great "What If"

     From September 15 through 16, 1777, 10,000 Americans faced nearly twice their number, 18,000 Hessians and British regulars.  Washington's troops formed a three mile line in the Great Valley, not far from Valley Forge, with its center around what is now Immaculata University, facing King Road.

     On the 16th, Casimir Pulaski's cavalry supported by light infantry, advanced, and were pushed back by Cornwallis' own light infantry units, towards the center/left of the American line.  On the American right, American generals Wayne and Maxwell skirmished with Knyphausen's Hessians, and were forced to withdraw.  Before the British could pursue their advantage, severe rainfall ended the engagement.  Reports vary as to casualty counts.

     I like this image because it actually features cloud cover over a portion of the battlefield area, viewed from the American position.  While it is easy, perhaps, to dismiss this as a non-battle, the number of troops involved and the near-defeat and subsequent escape of Washington's army from another defeat, so soon after Brandywine, poses intriguing "what if" questions.  Despite this, there are virtually no markers or explanatory plaques; I met the man who now lives in the building that was the Three Tun Tavern at the time who pointed to a localized marker on the property, but no state recognition.  Driving around this battlefield requires a fair amount of work to try to comprehend the scope of what almost was.

Monmouth and Mythology

     June 28 marks the 235th anniversary of the Battle of Monmouth.  I posted on this battle last June.  Last week was the reenactment, but I chose to go today and avoid the crowd, and check out the new visitor center.  This state park and its center rival many of the federal park battlefields I've visited in terms of presentation of information and legibility, and its electric map and accompanying thirteen minute presentation provide an excellent overview of the battlefield.  The controversy surrounding Charles Lee and George Washington was treated evenly, if briefly, but at the end, the battle was heralded as a great victory for Washington.  As Brendan Morrissey writes in Monmouth Courthouse 1778: The Last Great Battle in the North, "[b]y any objective criteria, the battle of Monmouth Courthouse was a draw." The British left the field, but they were doing so anyway, and continued their "retreat" to Sandy Hook.  Washington had set out to destroy the British army if he could find the right engagement, and that did not occur.  For those with limited interest or exposure to such things, though, they leave this introduction with opinion offered as fact, and so does mythology continue.

     I did see something new: I finally made it to the Craig House portion of the battlefield.

     Restored in 1993 to look as it did during the battle, it was not directly involved in the area of fighting but certain Continentals retreated across the farm at one point, and the British used the house as a hospital.

The Crooked Billet

     The Battle of Crooked Billet on May 1, 1778 (now in present-day Hatboro, Pennsylvania), was one of the more extended skirmishes arising out of the competition for forage and supplies between British and American forces.  A monument on the grounds of a school commemorates the battle.

     Washington's preferred commander of Pennsylvania militia, General James Potter, was on leave, so General John Lacy was charged with patrol and prevention of British seizure of American supplies, in command of about 400 men.  Major John Simcoe, in command of the Queen's Rangers, and Colonel Robert Abercromby, led about 850 men in a dawn attack on May 1, overwhelmed the initial force, chased them for miles and emerged victorious.  Allegations of British brutality against prisoners led Washington to appoint General William Maxwell to investigate.

     Something else worth nothing about Crooked Billet is the fact that while the soldiers of the Continental Army were starving and freezing, and these foraging raids and skirmishes were occurring, Congress was setting the rates for wagons and supplies.  The American commissary and quartermaster functions were in complete disarray.  Americans were selling to the British because that was what the market would bear.  It wasn't all patriotic fervor in America.

Valley Forge, the Sequester and the Oscars

     We all know that Washington wintered the Continental Army at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, for the winder of 1777-1778.  Here is an image taken in the Knox Artillery Park section of what is now a federal park.

     What many don't know is the "secret war" (as historian Thomas Fleming puts it) engaged in by Washington to defeat an attempt to replace him as commander in chief.  What many also don't know is that the winter at Valley Forge was not the worst of the war.  However, the Continental Army did suffer from lack of clothes and food, let alone proper nutritional needs.  A large part of the problem was the manner in which the Continental Congress dealt with (or failed to deal with) the situation.  Among its mistakes was setting prices for purchase of food and supplies, with the predictable economic result that local farmers and merchants often sold to the British to get hard currency and better prices.  I have been reading Fleming's book Washington's Secret War and am struck by the same attitudes of the members of the Continental Congress with many of those today in dealing with government spending and the so-called sequester.  Rhetoric continues to trump reality.  Politics and power are more important than result.  In the meantime, just as the troops starved at Valley Forge, we have a large part of our present population suffering from a malignant economy while the press is dominated and bedazzled with a golfing president and who George Clooney brings to the Oscars.