Baylor's Massacre and the Persistence of Brutality

On September 27, 1778, British General Charles "No Flint" Grey led a  night assault, with no flint and bayonets only, against Colonel George Baylor's 3rd Regiment of Continental Light Dragoons while they slept in various houses and along what is now Rivervale Road, in Rivervale, New Jersey.  Despite pleas for quarter, none was given, with the exception by one British captain.  The American regiment was virtually destroyed.  In 1967 the remains of some dragoons were found at what is now the burial site park, pictured here.  

The episode became the subject of intense American propaganda as to the brutal nature and atrocities committed.  Even British Lieutenant Colonel Charles Stuart of the 26th Foot wrote a few days afterward that "[a]s they were in their beds and fired not a shot in opposition, the credit that might have been due to the Corps that effected the surprise is entirely buried in the barbarity if their behaviour." On the other hand, General Henry Clinton wrote of the attack that he "had the satisfaction to find that the move had not proved altogether fruitless."

Today we live in a world of brutality that seems so commonplace, on a 24/7 basis, that we are jaded.  It is useful to read Stuart's sense of outrage and hope that after centuries of such brutality, we can stand in a place like this and think about what we are as human beings.

Memorializing John Andre

On this cold, damp New Year's Day, 2013, I journeyed to Rivervale, New Jersey, and photographed the site of the Baylor Massacre, to be noted in later posts.  A few miles away, though, is the monument to John Andre and the site where he was hanged.  It was one of those moments where you are fully conversant with place, history and what happened on the very spot.

We are at the top of the hill, looking toward Tappan Road, just over the border from New Jersey, in New York.  Andre was the British officer with whom Benedict Arnold corresponded.  Upon discovery of the treason to the American cause, Andre was captured through a strange and at times comic set of circumstances.  He was tried nearby in an inn in Tappan.  He asked Washington for death by firing squad, as a soldier, but instead was hanged as a spy.  His last words reportedly were: "I pray you to bear me witness that I meet my fate like a brave man." He was buried here but in 1821, his remains were removed to Westminster Abbey, in London.

Washington called him "an accomplished man and gallant officer." It is something to think about that we have homage to a man who participated in one of the greatest treasons of the Revolution, and not merely mark the site of his hanging, but give it monumental status, and on the Saratoga battlefield, the monument to Benedict Arnold is a boot (for his wounded leg) but does not mention him by name.