Lincoln's headquarters at “Phil's Hill” was quickly overrun. “General Linckoln must have retired en Profond Négligé [“profoundly undressed,” i.e., in the buff], as he did not take time to dress himself,” von Donop reported with a smirk. “His adjutant is among the Captured Officers.”48 Ewald observed, “Afterward the place was ransacked and plundered because all the inhabitants were rebellious-minded, and then the entire corps withdrew along the road from Bound Brook to Brunswick.”49
Once back at New Brunswick, the camp scuttlebutt began to circulate. “I learned later that I was accused of attacking too rashly, for General Grant's attack had been a feint,” Ewald ruefully noted. “But I had not heard a word about it. I should have been advised if this attack was to have been a feint, for then I would only have skirmished with the enemy picket.”50
For all of the fuss and bother, planning, marching, skirmishing, and recriminating, Cornwallis's goal was only partially realized and of short duration. “In the morning of the 13th Instt Lord Cornwallis in person with Major Generals Grant & Skinner attempted to surprize our post at Bound Brook and to take off the Troops we had there,” Washington wrote. “Happily his Enterprize was not attended with the Success he wished; however, before our little force could withdraw to the Mountains in their Rear the Enemy advanced and possessed themselves of two or three pieces of Field Artillery which we had there. We lost in prisoners & killed, by the best accounts I have obtained, from thirty five to forty men.” But in a few hours, everything was back to where it had been before. “The enemy lost the post at Eleven O'Clock the same day, & our people took possession of it again. Fortunately, Our Stores there were trifling and not worth mentioning. It was considered as an out post, and nothing of consequence kept there.”51
The American force that reoccupied Bound Brook included Maj. Gen. Nathanael Greene of Rhode Island. Referring to Convivial Hall and the flexibility of its occupants, “The British Generals breakfasted and I dind at the same house the same day,” Greene told his wife Kitty, “this is the State of War.”52
The day after Boundbrook, Washington predicted, “If I am to judge from the present appearance of things the Campaign will be opened by General Howe before we shall be in any condition to oppose him.”53 Time was working against the Americans, who were slow to respond to the call for troops. Howe had Washington significantly outclassed by every measure of military professionalism—troop numbers, weapons, training, support systems—and spring was well under way.
But nothing happened. Two weeks later, on April 27, Greene passed on to his wife some startling news: “We learn the Enemy are to take the field the first of June.” It made no sense to him. “Their delay is un[ac]countable already. What has kept them in their Quarters we cant immagin.” With one eye on the need for time to raise an army and the other on the corroding effects of attrition if things dragged on too long, he ruefully observed, “Their foolish delays and Infernal disputes I fear will protract the War.”54
Washington didn't complain; every week brought new units to his army, however slowly, and the months of badgering Congress and the states finally started to pay off. “The rebels in Jersey have increased to the number of 10,000 since the commencement of May,” Maj. Carl Baurmeister, adjutant general of the Hessian headquarters staff, reported later that month. “They have harassed all the quarters, and still they do not remain quiet in spite of the losses they have sustained thereby. The losses on our side have not been of any importance, but this kind of warfare fatigues the troops very much.”55
Supplies in the Continental camps were improving also, but they at best remained basic by the standards of the day, even among the generals. A Hessian messenger sent by General von Heister to Washington on May 8 to make arrangements for supplying the Hessian prisoners captured at Trenton was only allowed to go as far as Lord Stirling's quarters, where, since “wine and everything else essential to good cheer being so rare among the rebels, he could regale him with nothing better than grogge and salt beef.”56 A few weeks later, another Hessian officer on a similar mission, Lt. Matthaeus Müller, quartermaster of the Knyphausen regiment, dined with General Lincoln at Convivial Hall in Bound Brook. “At the table during the meal the master of the house, Sir Van Horne, was present with his wife and daughter, Gen. Greene, Col. Bland of the Light Dragoons, with his wife.” As for the food, Müller reported that “the dinner was very good, savory, and abundant. The drink, however, owing to a lack of wine, was water mixed with brandy and sugar. I was treated very well indeed.”57
“We Make out to Live very Well here,” Capt. James Moore of the 5th Pennsylvania Regiment, posted at “Bonebrook,” reported with a soldier's humorous sarcasm. “With a great Deil of Care In the Eating and Drinking Way, all We Want [are] Tarts, Custard & floating Island!” But the business of war was still serious and deadly. The troops posted at Bound Brook “are frequently Deprived of our Rest by the Bloody Backed Villians Who Very frequently Come and fire upon our Centries,” Moore continued. The “tit-for-tat” nature of the petite guerre was in full bloom that spring. “We are frequently allarmed by them but Not so Much harrassed as they are. Not a Day But our Scouts & other Partys, Goes Down and fires Upon them, yesterday our Scout killed three or four of thier Guard, & Came off Without any Damage.”58 The desire for revenge smoldered and grew increasingly more dangerous with each incident.
Warmer weather and the resulting outbreak of “camp fevers” such as typhus, typhoid, dysentery, or cholera required the Crown Forces to shift from the cantonments in New Brunswick to fresh campgrounds on the outskirts of town in mid-May. Sickness had spread rapidly, especially among the Hessians in town. After five months of close, uncomfortable quartering of thousands of troops, the town itself was a stinking shambles. “The Hessian Grenadiers have lost within these two Months more than 300 Men by a Putrid fever which got among them at Brunswick,” Sir George Osborn informed Lord Germain on May 15. “By some Care and Reform in their Hospital, I flatter myself they will be able to take the field in tolerable health.” By contrast, “the Chasseurs [Jägers] have remained exceeding healthy notwithstanding they have maintained one of the alertest Posts in our Cantonement during the whole of the Winter Season.”59 Activity, discipline, and uncrowded conditions—the Jägers were far out of town—made the difference.
Still, there were no signs of serious campaign activity. “Nothing new in Jersey,” Congressman Richard Henry Lee of Virginia quipped to Thomas Jefferson on May 20.60 Day after day passed, with the king's troops growing more restless and Washington's forces ever increasing. The spring weather helped rouse spirits on both sides, and the petite guerre intensified.
In New York City, twenty-seven-year-old Nicholas Cresswell, having escaped from Virginia, was waiting to take a ship back to England after three years on his own in America. During his stay, this thoroughly loyal Englishman from Derbyshire had met George Washington and John Hancock, carried letters from Virginia to Thomas Jefferson in Philadelphia, lived freely with Indians and under close surveillance by Virginians, and traveled extensively. An intelligent, resourceful young man and a dogged adventurer, Cresswell kept a journal and made astute observations of events and people.
On Wednesday, May 21, on the outskirts of New York, he “saw three regiments of Hessians reviewed by Generals De Heister and Knyphausen, Regiment De Donop, Regiment De Losberg, Regiment De Knyphausen.” The young Englishman noted, “They are fine troops, but very slow in their motions when compared with the English. They fired several rounds with the greatest exactness.” Cresswell was equally impressed by their artillery drill: “They had a train of Artillery consisting of ten fine brass Field pieces which they fired several rounds. Their Artillery men seem to be the only active men they have. When they have a piece of Artillery to draw they move very quick, at other times they seem half dead or quite stupid.”
Military punishments were shocking for their brutality, even in an age of frequent hangings and public floggings. “One of their Corporals ran the Gauntle
t eight times through the Regiment”—a punishment where the condemned passed through two ranks of his comrades, each of whom struck him hard across the back with a stick—“he had upwards of 2000 lashes which he bore with the greatest resolution and firmness, not a single muscle of his face discomposed all the time.” Blank, expressionless faces were part of German military discipline, leaving Cresswell and others who encountered them with the impression that “they appear to be a set of cruel, unfeeling people.”61
Over in New Jersey that same day, among the Hessian Jägers on outpost duty at Raritan Landing with Captain Ewald was Capt. Friedrich Heinrich Lorey (or Loray), who commanded a small squadron of mounted Jägers on the road between the landing and Bound Brook.62 A rare old soldier who had begun his military career in Europe as a private during the Seven Years’ War, he was one of the few who rose into the officer corps through merit rather than by birth. Clever and ruthless, Lorey distinguished himself by his daredevil tactics. “Captain Lorey the day before yesterday in the morning played a little joke on the enemy which did him credit,” von Donop reported on May 21.
40 to 50 men came from the direction of Bound Brook and attacked Captain Ewald's outposts. Captain Lorey, who was camped behind the Jägers with his cavalry, at the first shot, together with 8 men, mounted his horse, he (secretly) had no more at that moment with him, and went around by Quibble-town, and came back by the woods, through the place where the Rebels usually make their Retreat. When the before-mentioned troops of Rebels retired as usual through the wood, Lorey came to meet them, and cooly took up such a position that no shot could touch any one of them. By hastily jumping the fences many Rebels succeeded in saving themselves; 6 men were brought in prisoners, who begged pardon on their knees.63
Not content to leave the American outposts in peace, Lorey himself decided to rattle their cage with another daring exploit. “In the night just passed he played another game on those Rebels. At 10 at night he mounted his horse, he galloped to every Rebel post along the road, quite up to and into Bound Brook itself, and alarmed them in such a manner that they actually started firing in Platoons, when he got back again to his quarters as proof that he had really been in the place he broke several windows en passant as he went up the street of the town.”64
Despite Lorey's hell-raising, the rebel outpost at Bound Brook continued to be a thorn in the side of the king's forces. Then on May 26, word reached New Brunswick that the Americans were evacuating the place. A small British force under General Grant headed north along the Raritan. “The 1st Battalion of Light Infantry with a party of the 16th Light Dragoons to march at two this Morning,” Ens. Thomas Glyn of the Guards reported. “This Corps moved towards Boundbrook but finding the Enemy were still in force after some skirmishing took post on some rising ground, the Brigade of Guards (upon the firing being heard) were ordered to march, & formed in the Rear of the Light Infantry.” The Guards, who functioned much like a light infantry unit in the American campaigns, used common-sense, flexible tactics when faced with heavy gunfire. “The Enemy advanced with two pieces of Cannon & began to cannonade us, when we were ordered to lay down,” Glyn noted, “& being covered by the ground no loss ensued except Major General Grant having his Horse shot dead under him.” Once the Guards had taken cover, “upon our returning the fire with our field Pieces, the Enemy moved to Boundbrook with great precipitation. We returned to Camp.”65
The death of Grant's horse occasioned much comment, some of it less than flattering. “General Grant's horse was killed under him…as we were endeavouring to discover where the rebels entended going after striking their Tents at Bound Brooke,” Lt. William Hale of the 45th told his parents. “I wish it had been the General instead of the horse,” he added wistfully, “no man can be more detested.”66
“I had a Horse killed the other Day with a Cannon Ball at the Head of the Brigade of Guards,” Grant wrote. Making light of the fact that the horse's head was torn off by the shot, showering the pompous general with the results, Grant said, “He was dead & stiff before He fell to the Ground, but I got clear of Him, without being the least Hurt.”67 An arrogant, opinionated, self-interested Scottish laird with a taste for high living and hyperbole, Grant was not a popular commander, and he was loathed even more by the Americans for bragging in Parliament that he could easily march through the colonies with 5,000 men. On the American side, “We Offered Gen'l Grant Battle six times the Other day,” a brash, newly arrived commander, Brig. Gen. Anthony Wayne of Pennsylvania, himself no stranger to bombast, commented. “[He] who was to March through America at the head of 5000 men had his Coat much Dirtied, his Horses head taken off, and himself badly Bruis'd for having the presumption at the head of 700 British Troops to face 500 Pennsylvanians.”68
At general headquarters in New York City, Howe's Hessian aide, Capt. Friedrich von Münchhausen, noted the British Army's intelligence problem as it related to this small episode: “The fact that a sizeable enemy corps can march away and be gone for two hours before we learn of it, shows that we are in a bad way in not having good spies among them.”69 The failure of the British intelligence network during this six-month period was part of the reason why so little significant activity took place. Estimates of Washington's strength, as noted in British and Hessian sources, were consistently and significantly overinflated.
June began with a stark reminder of just how brutal war can be, especially on a small scale.
On June 2, a warm, listless day, a wagon pulled by four thin and worn horses slowly rattled its way down a dusty road along the Raritan River. Escorted by grim-faced Continental officers under a flag of truce, the creaking vehicle jostled over ruts and potholes on its journey to New Brunswick. Behind the teamster was a large box covered by a fly-blown blanket, protecting its precious cargo from dust. One of the officers carried a letter from His Excellency, General George Washington, Commander-in-Chief of the United States Army, to the Right Honourable Lieutenant General Charles Earl Cornwallis, commander of His Majesty's forces in New Jersey. The letter and cargo were being sent directly from Washington's headquarters at Middlebrook to Cornwallis's headquarters at Brunswick for His Lordship's personal inspection.
Ahead at Raritan Landing, directly across the river from New Brunswick, was an outpost manned by 1,000 elite troops of the Brigade of His Majesty's Foot Guards. The pickets on duty that day were from Sir George Osborn's Grenadier Company. When the Continental officers were stopped by the pickets, Sir George went out to see what they wanted.
Osborn, a thoroughly professional and combat-hardened soldier, possessed those self-assured manners and deportment that were the hallmarks of aristocratic good breeding. He examined the letter from Washington to Cornwallis but refused to accept the cargo or allow it to go any farther. The smell from the box must have been revolting, but Sir George apparently showed no visible reaction. A contemporary account of the incident states that Osborn, “with much admired sang froid, simply returned for an answer that he was no coroner.”70
Inside the box were the mutilated remains of Lt. William Martin, a Virginian in Spencer's Additional Continental Regiment. Two days before, on the evening of May 31, somewhere between Raritan Landing and Bound Brook, not far from Osborn's outpost, a Hessian Jäger patrol ambushed an American patrol led by Martin. A Hessian report stated:
Captain Lorey about 6 O'clock had a second little skirmish with the Rebels, Captain von Wreden with 50 foot Jägers and he with 8 mounted ones, were out making a patrol, but they kept themselves as much as possible under cover of the woods in order to bring the enemy's patrol into an ambuscade. An officer with 20 men came along and they being unsuspecting, were in between the fences and the bushes, when Lorey and his men cooly set upon them. At the very first encounter two of the mounted Jägers, Eisentrager and Nolte, were severely wounded, and a third and his horse men became so beside themselves with fury, that they hacked to death the Rebel officer and 6 men on the spot, and made seven prisoners, of whom the sergeant is severely wounded.
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The narrative dispassionately mentioned the fact that “the Officer, who after he received his first wound, attempted to defend himself with his bayonet, had his head cut off by Lorey himself with his sword.” The same Hessian report commented, “In the meantime I believe they have by this affair made for themselves a name among the Rebels which will be feared, for enough of the patrol got away as was necessary to carry a report of it to their Commander.”71
Martin's body was recovered the next day and taken to Washington's headquarters at Middlebrook. There, “seventeen wounds were plain to be seen, most of which, it is said, were sufficient singly to prove mortal.”72 The body was in such ghastly condition that it was put on display in the open for the army to see. “I saw his corps[e] as did also every officer and soldier in camp that chose it,” twenty-year-old Col. Alexander Hamilton, one of Washington's aides, told Congressman John Jay. Hamilton further reported that “his men ’tis said quitted him. But however other matters may be ’tis certain his dead body was found most horribly mangled. He had not a single bullet wound, but was hacked to pieces with the sword. He had several cuts in his head, each of which was sufficient to dispatch him, besides a number of more inconsiderable scars about his body and hands.” Death in combat is an accepted risk of soldiering, but what infuriated the Americans was the fact that it was “evident, that the most wanton and unnecessary cruelty must have been used towards him; for the greater part of his wounds must have been given him when utterly out of a condition to resist. This may be relied on as a fact.”73
The Philadelphia Campaign Page 4
