Second River and the Confusion of History

Just north of Branch Brook Park in Newark is a plaque on a boulder that commemorates the Battle of Second River in September 1777.  Here is a view of it.

At the time, the current town of Belleville was known as the Village of Second River.  Second River, which flows under the bridge in the image, is the Watsessing River, a tributary of the Passaic River.

The battle was part of a foraging expedition of British General Henry Clinton, and various sources, including at least one pension record, corroborate a stand made in this area by local militia that ultimately fell back when British reinforcements arrived.  Sources indicate two Americans killed and eight British killed, so as Revolutionary War skirmishes go, this was somewhat significant in terms of casualties.    And yet, there is no mention of this on these dates in Howard Peckham's The Toll of Independence.  In David Munn's Battles and Skirmishes of the American Revolution in New Jersey, there are two listings for actions at Second River--one on January 27, 1777 and one on June 1, 1779, but no mention of the September action.  

We do have the rather graphic description of one Nathaniel Broadwell who said that in 1777:

"this Deponant apprehends in the month of September of that year that a battle was fought between the British and the Americans in late War between them, at Second River in the County [of Essex] and State aforesaid that during the said Battle this deponent being in the advanced Guard under the command of Cap't Daniel Brown found Stephen Ogden of Morristown at Head Quarters at Ward Session after said Battle confined with a wound it was said he received in said Battle with a Bullet entering his left side and that he this Deponent saw Doct'r Bern Budd with his instruments cut and take out the Ball from the right side of the said Stephen Ogden's Body and that the said Stephen Ogden remained at his own house for some time afterwards Confined with the said Wound."

Other local historians put the action in September 1777 and note that the final action occurred in this area of the boulder.

A Fable Agreed Upon

On March 20, 2012 I blogged about the Battle of Short Hills in New Jersey, fought on June 26, 1777.  One of the very personal aspects of this near-illegible battlefield is the Frazee house, shown below.

There is a colorful story associated with this place and, if true, we can come closer to the enigma known to us as William Howe.  According to the Aunt Betty Frazee House project's website, the day after the battle, on June 27, General William Howe knocked on the Frazee door, supposedly smelling the aroma of fresh baked bread, and asked for some.  Believing she had no choice, Frazee said "I give this bread not in love but in fear." And supposedly Howe then politely declined the bread and left.  There is some indication that the Frazees (Gershom and Betty) made bread for local militia during the early part of 1777.

The Joseph Warren Monument Association, in a 1905 book on the monument, embellishes upon the story, and has the conversation going something like this, but with Cornwallis, not Howe, as the other speaker:

"Cornwallis is the name, Madam.  General Cornwallis.  And with me is General William Howe, my superior officer.  Passing by, we caught the odor of the bread you are baking and are tempted to ask for a loaf.  A rare delicacy for soldiers, I assure you, Madam."
"I give this to you, Sir, in fear, not in love."
"Then neither I or a solider of mine shall eat it, Madam."

As Napoleon observed, history is a fable agreed upon.

Charles Lee and the Widow White

On December 13, 1776, following the loss of New York and the retreat by Washington's army across New Jersey, General Charles Lee indulged himself at the Widow White's Tavern in Basking Ridge, New Jersey, and was captured that day by a British patrol led by Colonel William Harcourt; the advance guard of that patrol was commanded by a young Banastre Tarleton.  They had extorted the information as to Lee's whereabouts from captured American sentries.  Here is the spot in Basking Ridge, indicated by the blue sign on the corner in the lower right.

There is a fair amount of commentary that contrary to being a severe blow to the Continental Army, the removal of Charles Lee at this time as a thorn in Washington's side was a good thing.  Lee and his approximately 2,000 men were in the vicinity of Basking Ridge; General John Sullivan took command of them after Lee's capture and added them to Washington's force.

What was interesting to me is that on this otherwise unremarkable corner in the New Jersey suburbs, two of the main characters of the Revolution--Lee and Tarleton--were present in a rather intimate setting.  If we listen, we might just catch Tarleton proclaiming, as the tavern was surrounded, "If the general does not surrender in five minutes, I will set fire to the house." Lee surrendered in his nightclothes, and the Americans suffered two killed, two wounded and five in all captured.

Groton Heights and Benedict Arnold's Revenge

After the discovery of his plot to hand over West Point to the British, Benedict Arnold became a brigadier general in the British army.  On September 6, 1781, while the war raged savagely in the Carolinas and Cornwallis headed for his doom at Yorktown, Arnold launched his own fierce and brutal raid on his home colony, Connecticut.  The Thames River divided New London on the western bank from Groton on the eastern.  Fort Trumbull, south of New London, was sparsely defended and abandoned after one volley and the spiking of its guns.  lieutenant Colonel William Ledyard, a native of Groton, commanded Fort Griswold on the Groton side.  He was outnumbered, 800 to 150.  The British force of Regulars, Hessians and Loyalist forces were led by Lieutenant Colonel Edmund Eyre. The Americans vowing to defend the fort to the last extremity, and the British assaulted.  British Major William Montgomery led an attack from the north, and was killed; when Ledyard offered his sword in surrender, he was also killed and the massacre of American troops began.

Here we see a view inside the fort.  The enclosure on the left is where Ledyard fell.  On the right, next to the tree, is the plaque indicating where Montgomery fell.  This is a remarkable place in that it gives a sense of the claustrophobic nature of the Revolutionary War battlefield.

New Haven and Desolation Warfare

William Tryon, the Loyalist governor of New York and a military commander, espoused a theory of "desolation warfare" that targeted civilian property in an effort to demoralize the population.  It was part of a total war philosophy.  This was not universally accepted by British officers and was opposed by many, though accounts of the war in South Carolina reveal similar attitudes by Banastre Tarleton and even Cornwallis.  Tryon had the opportunity to put this into practice when he was authorized by British General Henry Clinton to conduct raids in Connecticut.  Here, on July 5, 1779 at Black Rock Fort with New Haven in the distance, 18 men under Lieutenant Daniel Bishop fired upon and engaged Tryon's far superior force of 700 that landed at East Haven.  They spiked their guns, attempted to withdraw, and were captured.  Other British forces landed in West Haven and proceeded to New Haven where, per the July 14, 1779 Connecticut Gazette, committed "the brutal ravishment of women, the wanton and malicious destruction of property, the burning the stores on the wharf, and eight houses in East Haven" and "carried away between 30 and 40 of the inhabitants . . . " 

The Connecticut Gazette reported that the Americans lost 27 killed and 19 wounded.

Today we have, among others, the Syrian government exercising a comparable "devastation warfare" approach to civilians, and in Sudan are reports of cluster bombs being used against civilians as well.

Interpreting Battles

I mentioned the Battle of Monmouth in a June posting, as June marks the anniversary of the battle.  Returning to it, we can consider how we can meaningfully relate physically to battles long ago when we visit the place of battle.  A battle such as Monmouth, over such a broad area, involving tens of thousands of men and lasting as long as it did, is extraordinarily difficult to "recreate." However, reenactors such as those at Monmouth seek to interpret the battle.  Just as a few photographs can provide a window only into the place, details of reenactment can provide the beginning of a glimpse across the centuries.  I like this image for what it shows regarding the firing of a cannon like those used at the battle, and how those at the time might well have reacted, and looked, at the moment of firing.

The photographer must be selective.  Unlike film, only a moment can be captured.  Here, the detail of a unit demonstrating the loading and firing of a cannon provides a tile in the broader mosaic.  Did the artillerymen of Henry Knox cover their ears like this? 

White Plains and the Hessians

This month, on October 28, we mark the anniversary of the Battle of White Plains in 1776.

After Harlem Heights, the Americans continued to occupy northern Manhattan, and the British the balance of the island. By mid-October, Washington learned that the British were again on the move, planning to land in what is now Westchester County and surround him. On October 16, 1776 Washington ordered retreat from New York and established a position in the hills of White Plains.

This is the top of Chatterton Hill.  Through the trees we can see across the Bronx River to downtown White Plains.  This was the focus of the principal fight at White Plains, reflecting the British and Hessian attack was on Chatterton Hill.  Hundreds of men died in assaulting this hill.  The Americans abandoned it.  They ultimately made their way out of New York and retreated across New Jersey, to be chased by Cornwallis.  Howe turned back to New York.

I want to focus on the two Hessian commanders, Colonels Johann Rall and Karl von Donop.  They are linked indelibly not just to the Hessians and British in this war, but to New Jersey in particular.  Both were killed in action in New Jersey.  One of the persistent mythologies of the Revolution is that the Hessians were unintelligent, brutal mercenaries; Rall in particular has come down as a kind of drunken buffoon who lost Trenton.  The attack at White Plains was carried out by him with professional dispatch, under challenging circumstances.  Similarly, von Donop has been portrayed as a kind of martinet.  What becomes evident from extensive readings of the contemporary accounts was that, despite their failings and limitations, both von Donop and Rall were respectable commanders, trained soldiers and certainly not lacking in courage.

Yorktown and Weapons of Mass Destruction

September marks the commencement of the siege of Yorktown, and though the war dragged on for two years following Cornwallis' surrender, Yorktown was the decisive battle.  Realizing his attempt to stabilize the Carolinas would not be successful, in General Charles Cornwallis moved towards the Virginia coast to either await reinforcements or prepare for evacuation. He fortified the area around Yorktown and across the York River in Gloucester in August 1781. Washington, assured now of French support, seized the opportunity for a conclusive confrontation and marched his forces south. A significant French naval win precluded any chance of evacuation by Cornwallis. The combined French and American forces of almost 16,000 men opposed approximately 8000 British troops. Beginning with siege lines that advanced towards the British position, Washington then launched attacks on the redoubts. One of the more spectacular assaults, on Redoubt 10, was led by Alexander Hamilton. The surrender of Cornwallis did not end the war but made British defeat inevitable.

Here is the French Grand Battery. In our age of drones and nuclear weapons, it is remarkable to travel a place like Yorktown and see what, at the time, constituted the weapons of mass destruction.

Fort Stanwix and Oriskany

This August marks the 235th anniversary of the siege of Fort Stanwix and battle at Oriskany.

Today the fort is a national park in Rome, New York, along the Mohawk River.  Oriskany is a few miles away.

As part of General John Burgoyne's northern campaign from Canada into New York, with Albany as its goal, Lieutenant Colonel Barry St. Leger led approximately 2,000 men (consisting of British Regulars, Hessians, Canadians, Loyalists and Iroquois) as well as several pieces of artillery to Fort Stanwix (now known as Rome, New York).   He laid siege to Fort Stanwix, then known as Fort Schuyler, on August 3.  The fort controlled the Mohawk Valley and was the gateway to the west. The fort was garrisoned by about 600 to 750 Continental soldiers from New York under General Peter Gansevoort.   Colonel Peter Gansevoort was in command of the 3rd New York Regiment at the fort.  Early on, met with a demand for surrender, he said "It is my determined resolution...to defend this fort and garrison to the last extremity, in behalf of the United American States, who have placed me here to defend it against all their enemies." 

The siege lasted from August 2 to August 22, 1777.  On August 22, the British lifted the siege, and St. Leger failed to reinforce Burgoyne or otherwise assist at Saratoga.  Oriskany was an ambush of the American forces and a bloody battle that fostered destruction of the Iroquois Confederacy.  The British and Indians suffered severe casualties and the Americans held the field.  Not only was the Revolution a civil war between Patriot and Loyalist forces, but it became a civil war among the Native Americans as well.

The Aliens Among Us--Chestnut Neck

Between October 6 and October 15, 1778, two of the more colorful military leaders of the Revolution clashed in a small town along the Mullica River, not far from contemporary Atlantic City.  Captain Patrick Ferguson (later Major, and killed at King's Mountain) led a force of 400 soldiers consisting of the 5th Regiment British Foot and the Third Battalion New Jersey Volunteers, to cut off the privateering activity in the area.  Washington sent General Casimir Pulaski and his Legion to protect the wharf at Chestnut Neck.  Ferguson found a small number of militia at Chestnut Neck, then  a 12 house town and commercial wharf, and easily defeated them with minimal casualties, on October 6.  On October 4, Pulaski left Trenton on October 8, reached Tuckerton (then called Middle of the Shore).  After a week of watching each other, Ferguson surprised one of Pulaski's outposts on October 15 with 250 men, and in essentially a bayonet attack, destroyed the outpost and left.

Pulaski was one of the various foreigners that were commissioned by Congress to serve in the Continental Army, like his Polish compatriot, Tadeusz Kościuszko.  Kosciuszko served as an engineer; Pulaski had been a cavalry officer.  He would be mortally wounded at the Battle of Savannah a year later.  This monument in the area of where he fought at this obscure battle in New Jersey serves as a reminder that the United States has always depended upon "the aliens among us."

  

Stony Point and Wayne's Revenge

Today is the anniversary of the Battle of Stony Point.  On July 16, 1779, American forces under General "Mad Anthony" Wayne avenged Wayne's loss at Paoli (Pennsylvania) by surprising and defeating the British force at Stony Point, New York. Faced with British General Henry Clinton's approach, two days after the victory Wayne abandoned the Point and rejoined Washington.  The picture is of the flagstaff battery.

Like Washington's surprise and defeat of the Hessians at Trenton, this Patriot victory had little strategic value but was of significance for its boost to morale at this point in the war.  the


Washington reiterated this rationale in the post-battle report to Congress (July 20, 1779): “The necessity of doing something to satisfy the expectations of the people, and reconcile them to the defensive plan we are obliged to pursue, and to the apparent inactivity which our situation imposes upon us; the value of the acquisition in itself, with respect to the men, artillery, and stores, which composed the garrison; the effect it would have upon the successive operations of the campaign, and the check it would give to the immediate depredations of the enemy at the present season . . . ” 


Here is another example of military action as public relations exercise.  We may find a metaphor for our current political climate, where procedure is more important than substance, light more important than heat, motion mistaken for movement, and spin the ultimate victory.

Connecticut Farms

     This week, on June 7, we mark the anniversary of the Battle of Connecticut Farms, and later in the month, the Battle of Springfield on June 23, 1780.  These battles, involving relatively large numbers of troops over a fairly wide area, marked the last significant effort of the British in New Jersey and the northern theater to destroy Washington's army.  Unlike some of the smaller battles and skirmishes led by Hessian commanders, such as Karl von Donop at Red Bank (Fort Mercer), Hessian General Wilhelm von Knyphausen led a force of 6,000 British and Hessian troops to attempt to engage the Continental army encamped at Jockey Hollow, near Morristown, New Jersey.  

     Connecticut Farms is now known as Union Township, New Jersey.  This is the current First Presbyterian, replacing the one burned by the British that stood on the battle site in 1780.  In the adjacent courtyard is a mass grave containing the remains of British and Hessian soldiers.  We tend to forget that the Revolution was a major war fought mainly on American soil, and foreign soldiers are buried here, much as Americans are buried in European battlefields of World War II.  Some have called the Revolution the first world war, or the logical consequence of its predecessor global conflict, the French and Indian War.  The fact that such a memorial grave exists on an otherwise barely marked battlefield in a densely populated county, is remarkable.  There's a poignancy and sadness to a mass grave, as though these individual human beings can only find relevance in their collective anonymity.