The trumpeter was also on a reconnaissance mission to gather information on the positioning of Washington's forces. “A flag of truce [was] sent out to desire Mr. Washington to bury those that were killed last night, and send Surgeons to the wounded,” Captain-Lieutenant Peebles wrote from Valley Forge. “The flag came in upon a Camp of theirs about 3 miles up & on t'other side the river where he supposes there were about 3000.” Peebles also commented about the American forces just across the river from the mouth of Valley Creek. “They have a guard just opposite to us here who ask'd for a truce for ye day, which was agreed to by our Guard, & they chatted to one another.”166
The Guards remained in their position near Fatland Ford while the main army marched to French Creek Bridge, nearly seven miles to the west. The head of the column at French Creek became the army's left flank, and the Guards became the extreme right. There were four fords and two ferries across the Schuylkill in front of Howe: Gordon's, Long, Richardson's, and Fatland Fords; Pawling's Ferry; and Daviser's (Davis's or Dewees's) Ferry at Valley Creek. Washington's army was positioned to block all the crossings, in addition to Swedes Ford, five miles below Fatland.
The Crown Forces were now positioned halfway between Philadelphia and Reading, and the rebels could only guess which way Howe was going to move. Plenty of other fords were situated above and below Washington's position. The British movements on September 21 seemed to point toward Reading, where the main Continental Army supply depot was located.
For the fifth time in less than three weeks, Washington's strategy had failed to stop the British advance toward Philadelphia. First his troops faced defeats in the battle at Cooch's Bridge and Iron Hill; then they were outflanked at Newport, Delaware; this was followed by the bloody defeats at Brandywine and then in the rain at Goshen; and finally there was the bloody night at Paoli. Howe was now pushing up a river with numerous twists, turns, and fording places, apparently to turn Washington's right flank yet again.
Late in the evening, British observers noticed major Continental troop movements away from the river fords. Washington was pulling back and shifting his army toward Reading, leaving only token forces to guard the fords. The next morning, September 22, British reconnaissance confirmed that the Continental Army was moving toward Reading, and Howe decided to keep Washington headed in that direction with his own troop movements.
Ewald and a party of Jägers, Hessian grenadiers, and part of the British 2nd Light Infantry Battalion set out that morning on patrol and went up French Creek. A mile or so behind the army's left flank, they had a small skirmish with some local militiamen, who quickly ran off as the Jägers advanced. “I found a blown-up powder magazine and a rifle factory, in which several thousand pieces of fabricated and unfinished rifles and sabers of all kinds were stored,” Ewald exclaimed.
He had stumbled upon the Continental Powder Mill that Congress had established earlier in the year on French Creek. After being created with great effort and expense, the mill had exploded in March 1777, shortly after beginning production. Peter DeHaven, a local man, had also established the Public Gun Manufactory and the Public Gun Lock Factory nearby to produce muskets for the Pennsylvania Board of War and the Committee of Safety. David Rittenhouse, the noted American mathematician and clockmaker, had been one of the chief supervisors of this project. Now, Ewald wrote that he “ordered everything smashed to pieces, set fire to the factory, and marched back.”167 An officer of the 2nd Light Infantry wrote, “the 2 Light Infentry on a Recnghting [reconnoitering] part[y] found a Pouder mill A Magzien and Some Armers Shops and Store houses Which they Burnt and Distroid all that Came to hand With Stores of Provishons and Furage.”168
Shortly after Ewald's patrol went out, Gen. Sir William Erskine proceeded across French Creek Bridge and advanced up the Reading Road with a similar force of Jägers, light infantry, and light dragoons. After destroying the supplies, Ewald's force returned to French Creek Bridge “to cover General Erskin's withdrawal, who had gone 2 miles on the other side of same to reconnoitre the whole district.”169 This move helped confirm Washington's fear that Howe was once more attempting to get around his right flank, and perhaps seize Reading.
The final ruse came around 5 P.M., when a column of 200 Hessian grenadiers, led by Capt. Richard Lorey with 20 mounted Jägers and 60 foot Jägers under Capt. Carl von Wreden, and supported by British artillery fire, began to push across the Schuylkill at Gordon's Ford near the mouth of French Creek, six miles west of Valley Forge. This noisy movement was a feint, but it had the desired effect: American forces pulled away from the river fords and headed toward Reading. At dark, the Hessians pulled back, and orders went out from Howe's Charlestown headquarters that the whole army was to prepare to march “by the rising of the moon” at 10 P.M.—but not to Reading; they were to reverse their march and head to Fatland Ford, a mile or so east of Valley Forge.
The Guards were now the vanguard, and Sir George Osborn led the grenadier and light companies across the Schuylkill that night on the final leg of their march on Philadelphia. With the “affair of Peoli” still fresh in everyone's mind, Sir George told his brother, “I was ordered the night after to pass the Schuylkill with the Light Company and Grenadiers of the Guards only and was fortunate that our enemy had no inclination to retaliate for their late misfortune.”170
The rest of the army followed, crossing the river by moonlight unhindered at both Fatland Ford and Richardson's Ford near Moore Hall. “We march'd between 1 & 2 oclock in the morning of the 23d. & cross'd the Sckuylkill at Fatland ford,” Peebles stated, noting that the water was “up to a Grenadier's breetches pockets.” As the men arrived on the other side, “the Troops took up ground as they arrived, made fires, & dryed themselves till about 7 or 8 oclock. They were put in motion again & march'd to the Eastward. HeadQrs at Norrington.”
As the British Army left Chester County and entered Philadelphia County—Valley Creek formed the county line, and the Valley Forge was in Philadelphia County at that time—Peebles stated that “the Stores at Valley forge that could not be brought away were set on fire &ca.”171 The “&ca.” was the forge itself and its related buildings—sheds, charcoal houses, storage facilities all were burned. “On leaving the ground of our last Encampment we set fire to the Valley Forge and destroyed it,” Montrésor confirmed.172
Once the British crossed the river, the Pennsylvania militiamen who were posted at the small earthwork battery built by the French engineers at Swedes Ford abandoned the guns and fled. “We March to the ground joining the Sweeds ford where the Rebels expected we would have Crossed,” James Parker noted on September 23. “Here they had thrown up Works, On Which they had three 12 pounders mounted on fieldpiece Carriages loaded & prim'd, but on hearing we had Crossd & pointed that way, they playd the Old game, Through the Woods Ladee, leaving their Canon, some small Stores of liquor, ammunition, & their Potts with the potatoes half boil'd. Here we destroyed another pouder Mill.”
Washington's army was gone—he had moved it to shield Reading, and it was encamped in New Hanover and Limerick Townships, several miles north of Trappe and nearly twenty miles away from Howe. Seeing Washington's former headquarters, Parker exulted, “On this days March we passed Thompsons Tavern adorned with the portrait of Washington with a blue Ribbon.” The tavernkeeper, Col. Archibald Thompson, was a Philadelphia County sublieutenant and lieutenant colonel of the 5th Battalion of Philadelphia County Militia. “The soldiers very Soon finishd both his Excellency & ye house,” Parker noted with glee as the portrait and premises were torched. The Crown Forces moved on to Stony Run, where Col. John Bull's plantation was situated. “Head quarters at the house of a Rebel Genl. Bull. We encamp a mile further on the Phila. Road now 18 Miles distant.”173
Howe's army established camp along the southeast bank of Stony Run in Norriton Township, with the left resting on the Schuylkill near Swedes Ford and the right on the Germantown Road, five miles north of the ford. Plundering immediately resumed with a vengeance. “The army…has
been well supplied with fresh meat and flour, and abundance of forage for the horses,” Capt. Francis Downman of the Royal Artillery wrote. “Very few of the inhabitants have remained in their houses, those who have alone saving their effects. It is otherwise with the deserted houses.”174 This time several buildings were torched, including Colonel Bull's barn, whose house had become general headquarters.
“This Township of Norrington is very rebellious,” Montrésor wrote the next day. “All the manufactures about this country seem to consist of Powder, Ball, Shot and Cannon, firearms, and swords.”175 The smoke from Bull's property and Thompson's Tavern further alarmed the inhabitants. “Toward evening we saw several high columns of smoke and we are told that the British had set fire to several houses belonging to some officers of the militia,” Reverend Muhlenberg observed from Trappe, nearly ten miles away.176
Col. Joseph Reed also lived in the area. “I stayed at my house as long, or perhaps longer than was prudent,” he wrote to Washington at 4 P.M. from Norriton Presbyterian Meeting House on the Germantown Road, across from David Rittenhouse's farm. “The enemy came there in about fifteen minutes after. I have collected a small party here at the Meeting-House, about one mile above my own house.” He told the commander in chief, “I shall remain here at present, and watch their motions, though I am puzzled to get persons to carry the intelligence I collect.”177
Another important Pennsylvania official, Col. John Bayard, speaker of the new Pennsylvania Assembly and commander of the 1st Battalion of Philadelphia County Militia, had his property plundered in a very peculiar fashion. Earlier that year, he had moved his wife, Margaret, and fourteen children to a house in Plymouth Township, just below Swedes Ford, for safety. “A division of the British army was moving to Philadelphia by the way of the Swede's Ford; the road to be passed was the one on which our house stood,” his eldest daughter recalled. “My mother engaged a few wagons to carry the furniture to places of safety, but could not, on such short notice, dispose of all the family stores. They had to be left for the plunder of the soldiery. She took her small children with her, and mournfully departed from her home.”
Colonel Bayard was away at the time, on state business in Lancaster. That evening, “the enemy arrived and took possession of the house…. They found much that was gratifying, and some things which proved amusing in the way of destruction.” Unlike the experience of the Gibbons family in Chester County, here “the library was a thing which could do them no good; they found many religious books, and concluded they belonged to some Presbyterian parson, and, of course, a rebel. They made a pile of them and amused themselves in shooting at them; in all directions, the fragments and some few volumes remaining scattered over the court yard.”
There was also a large cache of wine in the house. “The wine was a great prize, and proved the means of saving the house which was doomed to destruction.” In a comical twist of fate, “the officer, in gratitude for this unlooked for luxury, instead of ordering the house to be burnt, wrote a very polite note to my father, thanking him for his entertainment.”178
Bayard's wine gladdened the hearts of Howe's officers. “September 24—This morning the light dragoons found another store of various provisions, including several barrels of wine,” von Münchhausen said, “which upon orders of the General, was divided among the officers. Although it did not make even one full bottle for each officer, they were all happy for most of them had not had any wine for three weeks.”179
Once again, plundering was by no means the sole propriety of the Crown Forces. “The militia troops who are encamped here must have wicked men among them,” Rev. Henry Muhlenberg wrote on the twenty-third. “Some of them have broken into the house of the man who now owns my former farm, have broken chests and boxes to pieces, and have wrought havoc on the place. Others have smashed fences and rails and burned them, etc.” He added, “It is a delicate matter in this kind of war in which father is arrayed against son, son against father, brother against brother, neighbor against neighbor, etc. No one can trust another.”180
With Washington positioned on the hills of “Faulkner's Great Swamp” miles behind him, Howe headed toward Philadelphia in two columns with no opposition on September 25. “We March this morning at daylight. At 10 pass the strong ground of Chesnut hill, at 11 get to Germantoun, a Village of one Street & two Miles in Length Inhabited Chiefly by German Stocking Weavers, Waggon Makers &c who are Chiefly of the Rebellious Cast, & look down on this Occasion,” James Parker wrote, moving with the main column, which marched on the Germantown Road. “Most of the Rebels have left Philadelphia.” He also noted, “Headquarters at the House of Mr. Logan at the south end of German Town.”181 Stenton, which had served as Washington's headquarters a little more than a month before as the Continental Army prepared to march through Philadelphia in order to defend it, once again assumed the role of general headquarters—this time for His Majesty's forces, which also prepared a march through the city with the intention to occupy it.
“This area is quite splendidly cultivated,” Captain Ewald observed as the Jägers moved in the other column along the Ridge or Manatawney Road. As his men took up positions above Vanderin's Mill at the mouth of Wissahickon Creek, Ewald noted, “The inhabitants are mostly Germans but were against us, the most ill-natured people in the world, who could hardly contain their anger and hostile sentiments.” It was no wonder; many of the Germans belonged to pacifist religious sects such as the Mennonites, the German Baptists known as “Dunkers,” or the Seventh-Day Adventists and went about their lives quietly. They had come largely from the Palatinate, a region along the Rhine River in western Germany that had been the scene of endless religious war and bloodshed over the past few centuries. Now, after three weeks with the noise of battle in the distance, columns of smoke on the horizon, and reports of mayhem in southeastern Pennsylvania, they were extremely apprehensive.
The news that Hessians accompanied Howe's army added a special element of cultural fear for the Pennsylvania Germans, who despised these militaristic, brutal slaves of the Landgraves of Hesse. “One old lady, who was sitting on a bench before her front door, answered me in pure Palantine German when I rode up to her and asked her for a glass of water,” Ewald said. “Water I will give you,” the old woman hissed, “but I must also ask you: What harm have we people done to you, that you Germans come over here to suck us dry and drive us out of house and home? We have heard enough here of your murderous burning,” she tongue-lashed Ewald. “Will you do the same here as in New York and in the Jerseys?” she demanded to know, warning the Jäger captain, “You shall get your pay yet!”182
In Philadelphia, “this has been so far, a day of great Confusion in the City,” Elizabeth Drinker wrote in her diary on the twenty-fifth. In the previous week, she had seen Congress and the state governments flee. The bells of the city—eight of the nine chimes in Christ Church steeple; the State House bell, later revered as the Liberty Bell; and several other church bells—had been taken down and sent away to prevent their seizure as scrap for cannon making. People by the hundreds were loading goods into wagons and fleeing, and the docks were busy with sloops and small gunboats from the Pennsylvania Navy, some carting off merchandise.
Parts of the scene were comical. Elizabeth watched as “ye Sign (Over ye Way) of G. Washingtn. [was] Taken down this Afternoon,” the prudent move of a nervous neighbor. Considerably less amusing were the rumors of arson and plots to burn the city, as had happened to much of New York the previous September. “’Tis said that tar'd faggots &c are laid in several out Houses in different parts, with meschevious intent,” she wrote apprehensively. Now, on September 25, “the English were within 4 or 5 miles of us…they are expected by some this Evening in the City…. Things seem very quiate and still.” She also noted that “a great number of the lower sort of the People are gone out to them” and that Joseph Galloway had sent word “that the Inhabitants must take care of the Town this Night, and they would be in, in the Morning.” The newest powe
r shift had begun.
Later that night, as a steady rain fell and volunteers patrolled the streets, Elizabeth Drinker wrote, “all things appear peaceable at present, the Watch-Men crying the Hour without Molestation.”183
The hour of Philadelphia's fall had come.
ENDNOTES
PROLOGUE
1. Persifor Frazer, General Persifor Frazer: A Memoir Compiled Principally from His Own Papers by His Great-Grandson, (Philadelphia: 1907), 155.
2. Thomas P. Cope, Philadelphia Merchant: The Diary of Thomas P. Cope, 1800–1851, edited by Eliza Cope Harrison (South Bend, IN: Gateway Editions, 1978), 401.
3. Ibid., watercolor illustration inset opposite 404. “This drawing is by Major John André of the British Army, when a prisoner, & living in my Fathers family in Lancaster…. I was at that time a small boy, but well remember André's bland manners, sporting with us children as if one of us…. I often played marbles & other boyish games with the Major…. Thos. P. Cope, Phila., 1851.”
The Philadelphia Campaign Page 41
