Washington's Crossing 2014

I attended the annual reenactment of the 238th anniversary of General George Washington' Christmas Day crossing of the Delaware River, which preceded the 9 mile march south to Trenton and the victory over the Hessian garrison there.  Here is one image of one of the Durham boats being ferried across, filled with soldiers, and oared by the Colonel John Glover's Marbleheaders (in the red caps).

The narrator's concluding remarks stated that with the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown in 1781, the war ended in 1781.  This, of course, was not quite correct; the war continued until 1783 and Washington remained concerned that it might still be lost.  People who think the entire British army surrendered at Yorktown forget that New York, Charleston and Savannah were still occupied by significant numbers of British troops.  While the British loss at Yorktown caused the downfall of the North government and seriously hurt the British army, both sides had lost significant armies to surrender earlier in the war--the Americans at Forth Washington (New York) and at Charleston, and the British at Saratoga.  I do not raise all this to quibble as such; Yorktown was a decisive victory and led to the political will on the British side towards peace.  But the headline style way that history is presented, and the less than superficial understanding of Americans, is problematic, even in casual contexts.  These things have a way of sticking.

The reenactors deserve great credit for making history accessible and visible.  Still, there remains no substitute for presentation of history with integrity and attention to facts.  I saw a trailer playing in the movie theater this week that highlighted the History Channel's forthcoming series that basically casts Revolutionary leaders as moving from rogues to rebels to heroes.  Perhaps good marketing strategy, but this constant recasting of historical figures to make them fit contemporary "understandings" or notions of "narrative" and "political correctness" is disturbing.  A photographer is always safest returning to the negative; when they work off prints they are working off edited information.  The more we move from fact to narrative, the more we lose history.  Like a jpeg file that ultimately loses information if it is opened too many times, so, too, does our understanding dissipate if we try to "retell" what happened on the basis of preset dispositions.

Sandy Hook and the Absence of Memory

I have not made an exhaustive study, but it would appear that Sandy Hook accounts for perhaps more action than any other sole place during the Revolution.  David C. Munn, in his 1976 Battles and Skirmishes in New Jersey of the Revolutionary War, identifies 29 separate naval actions in or around Sandy Hook, and 18 separate land actions.  Here is the lighthouse as it looks today, farther inland from the tip than it was at the time:

In his study of engagements during the Revolution and American casualties, Howard H. Peckham notes 1331 military (as opposed to naval) engagements.  The first listed land action in New Jersey in his The Toll of Independence was at Sandy Hook on April 23, 1776--prior to the Declaration of Independence--when, as he writes, "Americans captured 35 of a watering party from HMS Asia, Capt. Vandeput." A day later, "[a]nother British watering party fled into lighthouse and was captured by Americans." For a more comprehensive discussion of activity at Sandy Hook, see the article appearing in the U.S. Lighthouse Society publication 

I have noted throughout this blog that the Revolutionary War was a mosaic of many pieces, and that there were many smaller skirmishes and battles that were no less deadly--and in some cases, there were more killed than in some of the more famous actions.  When you look at a place like Sandy Hook and walk its grounds, it is worth thinking about those 18 separate land actions that occurred here.

Connecting with Place

My recurrent theme in this blog has been the ability to connect with place.  More importantly, in some sites, the terrain is little changed.  In such cases, we are able to "see" what the place looked like to those who walked the ground during the Revolutionary War.

One such place is Cattus Island, near Toms River, Ocean County, New Jersey.  It is not really an island so much as a peninsula, but it provided coves, such as Mosquito Cove, sheltered from the ocean by the barrier islands off the New Jersey coast.

Here is a view of Mosquito Cove from Cattus Island:

Various sources have identified Timothy Page, of the Page family that settled on Cattus Island, as a privateer who used this area as his base of operations.  With a view like this, with no discernible houses or other constructed objects, we can get a feel for what this country looked like.  

The Haunted Revolution

Perth Amboy, New Jersey, is an underappreciated place.  It has the Proprietary House, reportedly the only colonial governor's mansion still "intact." William Franklin, the illegitimate son of Ben Franklin, was the last British colonial governor for New Jersey, and lived here.  Its city hall is also reported to be the oldest in continuous use in the United States, its current version dating to 1767 in essential form.  There are those who contend that Franklin continues to "live" there. 

Nearby is St. Peter's Church, which graveyard was damaged in June 1776 by British cannon fire from its ships in Raritan Bay.

A municipal worker, helping ready the city hall for the holiday season, told me this is where the nation was born.  The city was the capital of the province of East Jersey, and in the city hall, New Jersey became the first state to ratify the Bill of Rights.  Across from the city hall is Market Square, a park that features an arch in honor of the Bill of Rights.  It was refreshing to find a spontaneous expression of pride from a local, and an appreciation of the this place's significance in the national story.  In a way, the ghosts of the past continue to live in such concourse.

Another View of Pulaski and Public Art

I've blogged in the past about Casimir Pulaski and commented on the way we memorialize Revolutionary War leaders.  On a recent visit to the Philadelphia Art Museum, I explored the statues of various Revolutionary War leaders who "reside" behind the museum, overlooking the Schuylkill River. Lafayette is one, about whom I recently blogged.  Here is the Pulaski statue:

It is a remarkable pose.  

The statue, along with the others here, were the result of the will of General William M. Reilly to acquire such monuments to Revolutionary War heroes.  More information may be found here.  Pulaski was one of four "foreigners" who devoted themselves to the cause and were actually specified in Reilly's will of 1890.  It was not sculpted until 1947, by Sidney Waugh.

We often take these statues for granted.  They seem to relate to another, more militaristic age.  Maybe they have simply become part of the environment.  Whatever.  It is good to stop and pause, and consider the person so memorialized.  Such were flesh and blood, not bronze and stone.  Perhaps, when we see such an expression on this one, we can get a glimpse into the mind of the person, and consider the reality, and not the image.  

Lafayette Sculpted

In the park behind the Philadelphia Art Museum are statues of various Revolutionary War officers: Baron von Steuben, Nathanael Greene, John Paul Jones, Peter Muhlenberg and Richard Montgomery.  Also present is Lafayette who, like some rock stars today, is generally known by his one name.

When viewed against the setting sun, he appears to be winged, giving fancy to the image of an angel.  There is no discounting his personal courage or conviction, but as to military prowess, his record on the battlefield cannot be said to have been dispositive.  To the contrary, he was almost destroyed at Barren Hill.  Nonetheless, there was (and remains) great affection for him; certainly Washington treated him as a favored son.  His "value" may also have been in the political connections with France that proved useful in cementing French support for the cause.  

It was a cold November evening when I wandered among the statues of these men.  Most jogged past without a glance, but one other person was captivated by the statue, and stood on a bench to take his picture of Lafayette. 

We read and hear constantly about contemporary politicians doing this or that for their "legacy." True character comes from within, and those who are great do what they do regardless of whether others note it at the time or not.  Legacies are commanded, not demanded.  Perhaps that is why Lafayette's reputation and appeal persist today in the lay imagination: he did what he did from belief and conviction, not based on polls and narcissism.  

The Battle of Nassau and the Audacity of Audacity

The Battle of Nassau, it the Bahamas, occurred  March 2 – March 3, 1776, but was less a battle than an appearance.  The Americans came, they saw, they conquered and they left.  Nassau involved an amphibious assault and the first combined naval and marine operation of the war and American history.  On another level, it demonstrates an audacity that must also be recognized as part of the American character.

 The fleet was commanded by Commodore Esek Hopkins.  According to Samuel Eliot Morison in John Paul Jones: A Sailor's Biography, Hopkins was not directed to go to the Bahamas, so the decision to look for the ammunition and powder in the Bahamas was his.  Jones had been offered command of one of the ships, The Fly, but Jones had turned it down, deeming it not suitable for his level of office.  Although Jones later claimed to be Hopkins' planning officer, he was not, although he had knowledge of the Bahamian waters.  Hubris was a common theme to the American officer corps in the Revolution.

British Governor Montfort Browne secreted 150 barrels of gunpowder to St. Augustine.  After a council of war led by Hopkins, the decision was made to avoid the waters of the channel and land on the eastern side of the island.  There, on March 3 the Americans took Fort Montagu in an unopposed landing.  The Americans did retrieve a sizeable amount of arms.  The following day, March 4, they advanced on the town, the second fort (Fort Nassau) was abandoned, and the Americans remained two weeks, then sailed for New London, Connecticut.

Here is Fort Montagu today, still standing:

Also still standing is Graycliffe, originally built in 1740 by the pirate  Captain John Howard Graysmith; it was used as a prison by the Americans in 1776.  The building is a renowned restaurant and the prison is the third largest private wine cellar in the world.