Vol. II No. 6

THE
MAGAZINE OF HISTORY
WITH
NOTES AND QUERIES

DECEMBER, 1905

WILLIAM ABBATT
281 Fourth Avenue, New York

Published Monthly$5.00 a Year50 Cents a Number

THE MAGAZINE OF HISTORY
WITH NOTES AND QUERIES

Vol. II.DECEMBER, 1905.No. 6

CONTENTS

Entered as second-class matter, March 1, 1905, at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., under the Act of Congress of March 3, 1879.

Copyright, 1905, by William Abbatt

THE MAGAZINE OF HISTORY
WITH NOTES AND QUERIES

Vol. IIDECEMBER, 1905No. 6

SULLIVAN’S GREAT MARCH INTO THE INDIAN COUNTRY

II.

CHAPTER IV—Concluded.

Sullivan having heard nothing from either Brodhead or Clinton, became especially anxious about the latter, fearing that he might be waylaid by a union of the Tories under Butler and McDonald with Brant’s forces. On the 16th of August, he sent forward a picked force of nine hundred men, under Generals Poor and Hand, with the Coehorn mortar and eight days’ rations, to advance and meet the right wing. Marching to Owego, then an Indian village, and to Choconut, containing fifty long houses, they heard at sunset of the 18th, Clinton’s evening gun. This they answered with their Coehorn. Between the present city of Binghamton and Owego the two forces met and the forest resounded with sounds of mutual acclaim and welcome to brothers in arms. The place of their junction, as we see on the map, is named Union, now a flourishing village. Then the host, the flotilla in boats and the men along the flats and heights, moved down the Susquehanna in fine array. As the united forces of men from three states thus drew near the camp at Tioga Point, Sullivan ordered out the whole army to give them welcome. The fifers and drummers furnished lively music and a feu de joie, by the infantry drawn up in single line, completed the ceremonies. This was at noon on Sunday, 21st, and on the site of the present village of Athens.

Previous to the arrival of Clinton’s brigade, Sullivan (August 11) had sent westward up the river valley, a party of eight of his bravest officers and men, to reconnoiter the Indian town of Chemung. This collection of bark houses was built on the first great river flat above the village in Chemung county, at present called by that name. Keeping away from the trail they reached the hill top and looked down upon the town, finding everything in confusion. The Indians fearing an immediate attack in force, were getting ready to move westward. When this scouting party returned to the main camp at three o’clock the next day, Sullivan ordered his whole force to be ready to march at a moment’s notice. At 8 P. M., August 12, he started with most of his force on a night march and pushed on through swamps and forests. At morning finding themselves in a fog, they also discovered that the enemy had fled.

General Hand asked that he be allowed to take Colonel Hubley’s regiment and the Wyoming companies to pursue the foe. This request was granted and our men pushed eagerly on. In spite of all wariness, Captain Bush’s company of the Eleventh Pennsylvania got into an Indian ambush, and six of the Continentals were killed and nine wounded. Our men rallied and drove the Indians off the ground with a loss equal to their own. Then they began destroying sixty acres of standing corn, then in the milk, by cutting down the stalks. While at this work they were again fired on by the Indians in hiding, and one man was killed and five were wounded. Forty acres of maize were left untouched for the future use of the army, and then the whole force returned, greatly wearied with fatigue and the extreme heat. The bodies of the dead were brought back to camp for decent burial.

It was a sad occasion, when in the forest, the seven slain were buried in one grave, which, as was usual, had all outward marks obliterated, so that the savages could not exhume and mutilate the corpses. Then their comrades fired memorial vollies. Thus perished by the bullets of the enemy the first of the men in Sullivan’s main expedition. Two days afterwards, a corporal and four men, who were guarding cattle on Queen Esther’s plains, were fired on by sneaking Indians. One was shot dead and one wounded. In the rude hospital, quickly built out of green wood, within the lines of the diamond-shaped Fort Sullivan, the fifteen wounded men found shelter and care. In 1897, in digging foundations for the edifice of the Tioga Point Historical Society, at Athens, Pa., the bones of the buried Continentals were exhumed, and with other relics of 1779 are now under glass in the cases of the Spalding Museum.

Having his whole effective force under his direct command, Sullivan reorganized the army, and announced both the order of march and the order of battle. The light troops under General Hand were to form the advance, the riflemen acting as scouts. Poor’s brigade was to guard the right and Maxwell’s brigade the left of the army, Clinton’s brigade forming the rear guard. The park of nine pieces of artillery was placed in the center, with three columns of pack horses on either side. A morning and evening gun was to be fired daily and on account of the length and narrowness of the moving line through the woods, a horn, instead of drums, was to announce the orders to march or halt. The corps of engineers and surveyors were to measure each rod of ground traversed, and maps of the region traversed were to be made.

In the fort, Colonel Shreve was left with a garrison of two hundred and fifty men of the New Jersey regiment. It was ordered that when further supplies should come up from Wyoming, Captain Reed should proceed up the Chemung Valley, build a fort where Newtown Creek joins the river (at Elmira), and there await the return of the army from the Genesee valley.

The army was now eager to move into the unknown wilderness. The route was up the Chemung river, into the Seneca country, and through the Land of Lakes. There was no hope of reinforcements or relief, and, in case of defeat, of any quarter from the foe. Over paths never trodden by any white man, save the lone trader, trapper, or captive, they must now find much of their food and rely wholly on their own valor. How brave must these men have been, and how equally worthy of fame and honor, was this expedition in comparison with Sherman’s march through Georgia to the sea in 1864.

(It is to be noted that in the Centennial celebration of 1879, General William Tecumseh Sherman, was present in the Chemung valley, with words of memorial and congratulations to the thousands present, as well as with praise of the men of 1779 who had given him so inspiring a precedent of success.)

CHAPTER V
THE GREAT BATTLE NEAR ELMIRA

One of the first obstacles to the army, was a very high hill at the edge of the river. To avoid this, all but the infantry crossed the river twice, being supported and guarded against hostile attack by Maxwell’s New Jersey regiments. The other brigades marched over the hill, and camp was made on the site of the Indian town of Chemung which the advanced detachments had destroyed two weeks before.

Our fathers thought few articles of food more delicious than green corn roasted in the ear. So the maize in the fields near by helped to make a good supper. In addition, the army enjoyed a feast of potatoes, beans, cucumbers, watermelons, squashes and other vegetables which were here in great plenty. It was the season of ripeness.

Towards the end of July, there had gathered together, whites and reds, Indians, Tories, Royal Greens and British regulars, numbering over a thousand men, at Newtown, the Indian town near Baldwin’s Creek, opposite to the present village of Wellsburg on the Erie, and at Lohmansville on the Lackawanna railroad. Here they were for weeks hard at work. Tearing down the Indian houses, they built, with the old and fresh-cut logs, a fortification that extended up the slope of the hill to the north and along the western ridge nearer the Chemung river.

But where was the enemy? It was known that the raid of Brant, down the Walkill valley to the Delaware, had failed to draw Sullivan from his main purpose. The other parties of Tories and Indians had been equally impotent. What then should be done to drive back the avenging army and save their villages and crops?

Evidently the only safety was to join all forces. At a great council of Tories and Iroquois, held where Geneva now stands, it was decided to send wampum belts again to every and all tribes and bands of the Iroquois, and bid them assemble to oppose the invaders in the Chemung valley. Some of the parties that started in response to this call arrived too late. The notorious John Butler, who had led the expedition against Wyoming, was in command of the mixed forces of King George, red, black, and white, and the strategy and tactics employed by him showed the combination of the crafts of both savage and civilized man.

On Saturday evening, August 28, Sullivan’s advance pickets heard the sound of axes and saw many fires brightly burning along the hills just beyond Baldwin’s Creek. A scout sent out a day or two before, reported that the enemy were fortified just beyond the creek and west of the Indian village of Newtown. The march must now be made with a constant reference to ambuscade and with the greatest wariness. “Above all, no Braddocking.”

On Sunday, August 29, the day broke with every indication of very hot weather. The air was close and heavy. The army moved at nine o’clock, the riflemen being well scattered in front of Hand’s light corps, so as to act as scouts and skirmishers, while every man in the brigade moved with the greatest caution. Hardly had they gone a mile, before they discovered several Indians in front. One of these fired and then all fled. Going forward still further a mile, the riflemen found the ground low, marshy and well fitted for the shelter of hiding Indians. Moving slowly and alertly, they discovered another party of Indians, who as before, fired and retreated. Evidently their purpose was to lure the Americans into ambush.

Major Parr, commander of the rifle corps, now determined to advance no further without reconnoitering every foot of the ground. Ordering his men to halt, he sent one of them to climb the highest tree and survey the whole situation. The scout was unable at first to discover anything peculiar, but peering intently ahead, he made out a line of brushwood artfully concealed with green boughs and trees. Starting from near the Chemung river on the left, it ran up the slope of a high hill to the right, for possibly half a mile. Here had been the Indian village of Newtown, consisting of twenty-five or thirty bark houses, but most of the houses had given way to timber entrenchments and to the camp inside of them, though two or three were left so as to form, as it were, bastions for the newly-built fort.

Here the enemy had gathered to make their determined stand. Their force, numbering about nine hundred warriors from five tribes, had been reinforced by between two and three hundred white men, Tories and Canadians, drilled and aided by fifteen regular soldiers of the British army, and commanded by Butler, McDonald, and Brant, while two or three hundred more warriors were soon expected.

Such a position was a formidable obstacle to the advance even of an army provided with artillery. The right flank of the British rested on the river, their left on the side of a hill, while immediately in front of them and for a space of about one hundred yards was a clear field which their fire could sweep easily. Between this field and the Continental lines was a stream, since called Baldwin’s Creek, and then very difficult to cross. On the American right lay a valley so low and marshy that an attack in flank would seem nearly impossible. Thus the place was evidently well chosen.

Nearly the whole story of Indian craft in war is told in the one word, concealment. To hide their breastworks with the hope that the invaders might come very near to them without their being discovered, the Tories and Indians had laid boughs and greenery over the front and top. They had even planted out in front, here and there, fresh young trees, so as to give the appearance of primitive and untouched forests. They had stuck these young trees in the ground outside the breastworks and had thoroughly cleaned up the ground, so that no chips or evidence of human industry were left lying about. They hoped also that Sullivan’s troops would rush for plunder into the few Indian houses left standing outside the lines and would thus be entrapped.

Evidently, also it was their design that the Continentals, moving in a narrow defile and strung out in a line several miles long, should be caught between the river and the entrenchments, while the Indians in ambuscade could pour in their fire. They hoped to “Braddock” Sullivan’s force by stampeding the pack horses and cattle. On the high hill across the river, and on the summit to the northward, watching parties were stationed by Brant so that at the right moment they could quickly descend. Then by frightening the animals, sending them flying in every direction, they could complete the destruction of the army thus huddled together. With so many chances in their favor, the Tories and Indians hoped to give the Continental army such a check as to compel its return.

All these plans were frustrated by the great caution of Sullivan and the alertness of his lieutenants. When Major Parr, about noon, reported to his superior the situation of the enemy, Hand sent forward the riflemen to occupy the banks of the creek, within one hundred yards of the breastworks and under cover. The light brigade then moved to within three hundred yards and deployed in line of battle. Sullivan coming forward with the main army, sent Ogden’s flanking division along the river to the left of Hand’s light brigade and further to the west. He ordered Maxwell to remain in the rear in reserve. For a flank attack, he detached two brigades, Poor’s New Hampshire and Clinton’s New York, to move to the right and north. They were to make their way up the swampy valley, and gain, if possible, the enemy’s left and rear. In order to divert attention from this flank attack, Hand’s light corps opened in the center, while Proctor’s nine guns were run forward and posted on a hillock, directly in front of the angle of the breastworks and about two hundred yards distance from them. As everything had to be done in a rough country in the woods, on a fearfully hot day, it took several hours to get the batteries and the brigades into position.

Then opened a lively fusilade, of small arms, which held the attention of the enemy. It was proposed to allow until three o’clock for Poor and Clinton to reach the top of the hill (now called Sullivan’s Hill, on which the lofty monument stands), whence they were to turn and charge down upon the enemy. Yet Sullivan listened long in vain for the sound of musketry upon the distant right wing, notwithstanding that it was Poor’s intention to advance with unloaded guns and charge with the bayonet, for Wayne’s handsome work at Stony Point on July 16, only six weeks before, had stirred the army with an ambition to achieve a similar victory with cold steel. Colonel Cilley, who commanded a New Hampshire regiment, had been with Wayne on the Hudson and was now with Poor.

At three o’clock, Sullivan thinking it not wise to wait longer, gave order to Proctor to open fire with all his guns. The two howitzers, the little Coehorn and the six cannon opened with a terrific roar, while the light corps were ordered to be in readiness for a charge, as soon as the firing of the flanking column was heard. It was intended that the cannonade should be the prelude to a general advance on front and flank. The guns grew hot with firing, however, before anything was heard from the New Hampshire men, who had been obliged to face unexpected difficulties and especially to flounder through swamps, far deeper than anyone had supposed.

Proctor’s round shot, grape and bombs not only cut and tore the forest trees to the terror of the savages, but did terrible execution. In many places within the enemy’s line the bloody proofs of the terrific and destructive power of the shell fire were afterwards amply evident. Brant, their mighty leader, found it was all he could do to hold his painted warriors together. Suddenly, rather to their relief, than otherwise, runners from the hilltop came to inform their chief that the enemy had made an attack in force on their left flank, driven in the party of watchers, and were moving forward on the main body. Glad to escape the terrific missiles of the artillery, and to give his braves congenial occupation and one more suitable to Indian warfare, Brant led off a large party, possibly the majority of his warriors, to repel this new danger.

Turning now to the hilltop on the right and to the flanking operations, we behold the most startling episode of the battle, when for a moment it looked as if a cloud of red men was about to overwhelm this one isolated body of their foes. The second New Hampshire regiment under Colonel Reid, separated from the others in the brigade, suddenly found themselves partly surrounded by a semi-circle of rifles and hatchets. Their thin scattered line of riflemen, sent out to scour the woods as skirmishers, and at this time only a few yards in front of them, was quickly driven back before a whirlwind of fire. With unloaded muskets, the destruction of Reid’s regiment seemed certain. Nevertheless the salvation of the Americans was in the Indians firing too high. They were too certain of victory to keep cool and take sure aim.

This was the situation—Dearborn’s Third New Hampshire, Alden’s Sixth Massachusetts, Cilley’s First New Hampshire, and Du Bois’s two hundred and fifty picked New Yorkers, on the extreme right flank, and far to the northwest of the main body, made up, with the Second New Hampshire, the brigade. These regiments moving in the woods, in a country which no white man had ever penetrated, had become quite separated from each other. Poor, the commander, hoping to completely outflank the enemy, was far ahead on the right, too distant to be heard from. Clinton’s brigade, consisting of the Third New York under Gansevoort, the Fifth New York commanded by Du Bois, the Fourth New York led by Livingston, and the Second New York on the right under Van Cortlandt, formed the reserve, but they were still far below in the rear. The regiments were all small, numbering each about three hundred men. The great and imminent danger was that Brant’s seven hundred warriors might wholly overwhelm the men of one regiment before help could reach them from their comrades.

Such disaster seemed now to threaten. Starting his men on the run, Brant had reached the hill top, just as the men of Reid’s Second New Hampshire, nearly out of breath, and toiling amid the terrific heat, were only half way up the rough face of the rather steep eastern slope. At the extreme left of their brigade and nearest the British breastworks, which were a few hundred rods to the westward, Reid’s men found themselves far away and out of sight from their comrades in the other regiments, which were further to the right—east and north. Their guns were unloaded while their ears were deafened with the yell of hundreds of exultant savages who felt sure of scalps. In a moment more they were face to face with the foe. With their empty muskets, defeat and massacre seemed certain. They realized that their brigadier, Poor, was far away to the right, pressing his troops on to the attack, hoping to close in upon the enemy and prevent their retreat.

There was but one thing to do. It was to fix bayonets and charge. Reid shouted the order. His men, jaded as they were, pushed further up the hill, driving the enemy for a moment before them and getting a bare chance, in the momentary lull, to load their guns. Then began the usual fusilade among the trees. Yet it was still a desperate uncertainty and the enemy outnumbered them.

Not far away, Dearborn, with the Third New Hampshire, hearing the firing, realized at once the peril in which Reid was. Without waiting a moment, he took the responsibility, without orders, to right about face. He did so, supporting Reid and striking the enemy on the flank, while Clinton, equally alert, pushed forward two of his regiments. His object was to support the New Hampshires and if possible gain Brant’s rear.

Then ensued a severe fight in the woods, which from the nature of the situation could not last very long. Brant seeing his plans upset, ordered his men to retreat and save themselves.

At the same time, further down on the flats, Sullivan having heard the report of the guns on the hill, at once ordered an advance along the whole line. With cheers our men rushed over the entrenchments, and then a running fight of several miles, indeed all the way into the limits of the modern city of Elmira, ensued. Nevertheless the enemy were able to escape, being much more familiar with the country. They carried away their wounded in canoes up the river, and made off with, or concealed some of the bodies of their dead.

The battlefield was fully occupied by our trains and camp, and about six o’clock in the afternoon, when the pursuit stopped, three cheers told the story of another American victory. The known loss of the enemy was thirteen whites and many Indians. Twenty-six corpses of red men were found upon the field. Two prisoners, one a negro and one a Tory with his face painted black, were taken. General Sullivan reported three killed and twenty-nine wounded, five of whom afterwards died. All the patriot dead and most of the wounded were New Hampshire men, and all the casualties except four were in Poor’s brigade, Reid’s regiment suffering the worst.

In reality this was one of the great decisive battles of the Revolution, for it broke forever the power of the Iroquois. Throughout the war, except in small parties, neither Tories nor savages were able to gather for raids. As a military factor the warriors of the Six Nations never again appeared in or with an army. Sullivan and his soldiers had ended the flank attacks on the army, and opened the way for civilization into western New York and Pennsylvania. Indeed, for over half a century, or until the railways dictated the lines of travel, “Sullivan’s Road” was the main highway into New York from Pennsylvania.

CHAPTER VI
IN THE WONDERFUL LAKE REGION

It began to rain on Sunday shortly after the battle firing was over, and the next day, Monday, August 30, was a day of rest.

It was also necessary, in consequence of the very poor and insufficient provisions, as well as the want of enough pack horses, to cut down to one-half the rations of flour, salt and meat. However, as the country through which they were to march was rich in vegetable food, Sullivan issued orders, stating the facts, and asking that “the troops will please to consider the matter and give their opinion as soon as possible.” So late that afternoon the whole army was drawn up in the separate brigades and regiments. Then the question was put whether they would advance, taking the risk of hunger.

“Without a dissenting voice, the whole army cheerfully agreed to the request of the General, which was signified by unanimously holding up their hands and giving three cheers.” Neither the remembered horrors of Valley Forge, nor the risk of possible starvation could discourage the army. With many a laugh and joke, the men moved forward to their “Succotash Campaign.” They were happy to know that the heavier artillery, the two howitzers and brace of six pounders were to be sent back. The labor of drawing ammunition wagons and heavy cannon up and down hills would be much reduced. Nevertheless, the four three pounders and caissons, taken along with the Coehorn, meant much chopping in the woods to make a path.

On Tuesday, the line of march was taken up through the broken, swampy, and mountainous country. For their night’s camp the men were happy to find a level plain, but the next day they had to go through Bear Swamp, which was then a horrible dark quagmire six miles long. Having a clay bottom, the black mire held the water which flowed tortuously through the spongy soil, in which the vegetation of centuries had made a peaty mass, which the recent rains had made as unstable as a jelly and slippery as soap. Here was the divide of waters between the Susquehanna and the Saint Lawrence rivers, flowing into the Atlantic at Labrador or Hatteras. The Indian trail through this soggy country passed through defiles, over mounds and through ravine after ravine, rough and scrubby, while through all meandered a stream of dark water. Only with the most tremendous toil were the Continentals able to get through, and the rear guard did not reach hard ground until long after noon next day. The cannon were pulled through only by the toil of hundreds of men at the drag ropes, or by laying on the worst places corduroy, or a rough road of trees and brushwood. Many horses were mired and abandoned, and scores of packs with precious bags of flour and ammunition were lost. Altogether it was a most terrible experience, much worse than in the Pennsylvania swamp, called “The Shades of Death,” which they had traversed.

For years afterwards, that horrible night formed the blackest memory and gave the most disturbing element to the dreams of the old soldiers. In our time, as we travel through this drained and dry valley between the green walls of the hills on either side, we wonder as we look over the celery gardens where Bear Swamp was. Within half a century after Sullivan’s march and return, the forests were cleared and the Chemung canal, bearing millions of cubic feet of timber to the great cities, and especially to build the Maryland privateers for the War of 1812, traversed and drained the swamp. To-day smiling farms and vegetable gardens on either side of the well laid beds of the steam railway and electric trolley line fill the sunny and beautiful valley.

Just beyond this horrible swamp of 1779 lay the village of Sheaquaga, or “French Catherine’s town,” three miles from Seneca Lake, on the site of the present town of Havana, or Montour Falls. It was the capital of the Indian Queen Catherine Montour, and contained her “palace.” It consisted of about forty “long,” or apartment, houses of timber and bark, with splendid cornfields, orchards, and fenced enclosures, in which were horses, cows, calves and hogs. It looked as though the army would have, for a little while at least, meat rations. Here had been the home of Catherine, sister of Queen Esther and granddaughter of Adam Montour, who was the offspring of Count Frontenac. A Dutch family had also lived here among the Indians. It seemed strange to our men to find feather beds and other evidences of civilization so far in the wilderness. Some of it was the plunder from Cherry Valley and Wyoming.

The town was deserted, but our troops had to wait all day Thursday for the pack horses and cattle that emerged one by one, or in parties, from the darkness of the dreadful swamp. They found an old squaw, whom they compelled to give information about the Indians. Then they built for her a hut and left her some provisions. Moving northward along the eastern shores of Seneca Lake, through open woods and level country, they found corn roasting in the fire, their supper left untasted and all the evidences of the hasty movement of a large body of Indians.

The next day they moved as far as North Hector, to a village consisting of one very large apartment house with several rooms and fires. To this day the new timber, grown up in the place of the old forest cut through for the artillery, can be easily discerned. Resuming their march, they came on Sunday, September 5, to Kendaia, or Apple Town. This was an Indian village of the first class, over twenty large, long apartment houses built of timber and bark, some of them well painted. There were apple and peach orchards, with many hundreds of trees ripening their fruit, and a cemetery, in which there were tombs erected to the chiefs and made of hewn and painted planks. Here they met with a white captive, Luke Sweetland, whom the Indians had kept employed in making salt. All this lake region is underlaid with beds of the purest chloride of sodium, and in times of peace the Senecas and Onondagas drove a thriving trade with the other tribes in this necessity of life. They made their salt by boiling the brine from salt springs. To-day at Ithaca and Ludlowville the white crystals fill daily a freight train.

On the sixth of September the evening gun sounded at Indian Hollow. On the seventh day they reached the great Seneca town of Kanadesaga, lying on both sides of Castle Creek near what is now Geneva, N. Y. Here had dwelt Old Smoke, the Indian King, and his son who married a daughter of Catherine Montour. In 1756, during the Old French War, Sir William Johnson had built a fort, or stockade, in this town, which was regularly laid out with the open square, in which the fort stood, in the center. Orchards and gardens were plentiful, especially on the north and northeast. Although Sullivan had expected to fight a battle here, and had deployed his regiments for assault, yet the town was found to be entirely deserted, except that a little white boy three years old, captured from one of the settlements, was found playing, though nearly starved. The circular mound, on which the councils of the chiefs and orators were held, still stands, a monument of a nearly vanished race. Gleefully the troops marched in and through the town, with pumpkins and squashes skewered on their bayonets.

The Continentals were now in that renowned lake region of New York famous among the Indians not only for its salt springs, but for its abundance of fish and fruit, and the general fertility of the soil. The forest was still dense all around them, except the more frequent openings, but the Indian villages were numerous and with luxuriant vegetable gardens. In these, onions, peas, beans, squashes, potatoes, turnips, cabbages, cucumbers, watermelons, carrots and parsnips were plentiful, while great cornfields stretched farther off into the clearings and to the very edge of the forest, and orchards of apple, peach and mulberry trees were within easy reach.

It was this great store of vegetable food found everywhere ready that decided Sullivan and his brigade commanders, after a council of war, to push on further westward, despite the very scanty supplies of meat and flour rations. So the horses and the men unable to proceed further by reason of sickness or lameness, were sent back to the fort at Tioga Point, Captain Reed of Massachusetts with fifty men forming the escort. Thence he was to return again, as we have seen, to Kanawaholla, near the present city of Elmira, with supplies for the army on its return.

The main army, facing the setting sun, camped at Flint Creek September 9, and on the next day at noon reached Canandaigua, so named because here the trading Indians on the trail, or red commercial travellers on the road, “took off their pack” to rest. It was an Indian town of twenty-three large houses, with standing crops, all of which, as at the other places, were given to the torch. It is said that the women and pappooses hid themselves on Squaw Island, in the lake near the town. On Saturday, September 11, the Stars and Stripes were unfurled at the foot of Honeoye Lake, where stood the Indian village of twenty long houses. All these except one, selected for a fortified storehouse, were set on fire. The walls of this strongest dwelling were still further strengthened with kegs and bags of flour, and a ditch dug and abatis made. Then two three pounders were mounted and their black noses poked out of the port holes cut through the walls. Here the sick and disabled, amounting to nearly three hundred, were left, in camp. The weakest found quarters in the rooms and bunks of the Indian house. Then the whole army, now able to move as a light armed corps, pressed forward to the goal, which was the big Indian town in the Genesee river valley, near what is now Cuylerville, below Geneseo, N. Y. Delayed by storm and rain next day, only eleven miles were made to Adjuton, a village of eighteen houses, near Conesus Lake, where had lived two celebrities, Captain Sunfish, a negro, and Big Tree, a Seneca chief. The fresh evidences of savages near at hand, were very manifest on the Indian path leading to the Genesee town.

It may be wondered what had become of the motley British force after their defeat at Newtown. As a matter of fact, two hundred fresh Indian warriors had joined Brant just after the battle. They were clamorous to advance at once against the Americans, but those who had a taste of grape shot and bursting bombs were unwilling to make a stand. So the whole force of red and white allies of King George had retreated to the north and west, making camp near Avon, in Livingston County. Keeping out their scouts on the hilltops, they were well informed of Sullivan’s movements.

Now, knowing that he had left Conesus, evidently to attack the big town of the Senecas, Brant and Butler chose a strong position. It was remarkably like that of Braddock’s field, in Pennsylvania, wherein the pride of England’s infantry were changed, from red-coated soldiers, in the glory of lusty life, to heaps of bleaching bones. On a bluff, parallel with the western side of Conesus Lake, well forested, but full of deep ravines, Butler posted his men in ambush. He hoped that Sullivan would advance with his men up the well known trail between two ravines. He had broken down the old, rude bridge over the stream, but he knew that the Continental pioneers would be likely to build another out of the oak and hickory which abounded here. Here he expected to post his men and watch for the opportunity when the scouts should announce the nearness of Sullivan, who was without artillery. With his fresh reinforcements Butler was confident of victory.

William Elliot Griffis.

Ithaca, N. Y.

(To be continued.)

THE LIBERTY OF THE PRESS

IN THE AMERICAN COLONIES BEFORE THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR, WITH PARTICULAR REFERENCE TO CONDITIONS IN THE ROYAL COLONY OF NEW YORK.

CHAPTER VI—Concluded

It is also important to remember that the press appealed to a very much smaller percentage of the population in colonial times than it does to-day. “In Boston with a population of 8000, Campbell succeeded in selling but 3000 copies of his News Letters when it was the only newspaper printed in America.”[1] Later the circulation of all the papers increased, but it was still but a small proportion of the colonists who received first hand the opinions of the editor. And this body of subscribers was for the most part of the professional class or the wealthier part of those in trade, persons naturally of a conservative temper and apt to look with disfavor on any strong attack on or disregard of legalized and established authority.

In New York, owing to the peculiar way in which the press was introduced, it for the first forty years of its existence did nothing to put itself in antagonism to the government; in Massachusetts it at first was given a subvention by the General Court; in South Carolina a comparatively large sum was offered to any printer who would brave the dangers of the climate and establish a press. With these exceptions its early days were passed under governments which viewed with dislike or suspicion any attempts on the part of the printers to take an intelligent part in the questions that were interesting the people. For this reason the press in all the colonies early assumed a position of antagonism to the constituted authority and in return the government took every opportunity to hurt it by means of prosecutions in the courts or inquisitorial proceedings before the Governor and his Council. It is interesting to note however that these proceedings lost almost all their terrors as the period of the Revolution approached, for the press received more and more the support of the people, who had learned to appreciate the wide circulation which the newspapers gave to the new doctrines; thus we constantly find the grand juries refusing to find true bills against the printers, in this way reducing the Governor to the use of Informations which were looked on with suspicion by the people and seldom resulted in a verdict of Guilty.

But the greatest influence of the press was exerted through the flood of hand-bills and pamphlets which ever increased in volume as the period of the Revolution drew near. Printed in large numbers and circulating everywhere, we find Governors reporting to the home government that it was impossible to stop them, and that they were doing incalculable harm.

If now we attempt in a very brief way to review the whole matter of the struggle for the liberty of the press we shall find:

First: That the system in vogue in America, as in England, up to the close of the seventeenth century, was a system of administrative control by the Crown through appointed officers called Censors, to whom all writings had to be submitted before publication and who either gave or refused permission to print. That this Censorship was shared by Church and State in some instances only complicated the situation.

Second: With the failure to pass the Licensing Bill in 1695 the press became in all parts of the English dominion freed from this censorship; but a system of judicial control took its place, for all publications were now subject to the law of libel, and an attack on the dominant party was held by the courts to be a libel, and a censure of the Governor to be a personal reflection on the King. In Franklin’s case in England in 1731,[2] it was laid down by Lord Raymond that the court alone was to judge of the criminality of a libel, to the jury was given only the right to decide as to the fact of publication.

In England that doctrine continued in force until the passage of Mr. Fox’s Libel Bill in 1792. But fifty-eight years earlier the Zenger case (in 1734) had established in principle the freedom of the press in the colonies, by settling the right of juries to find a general verdict in libel cases. We have said “in principle,” for this right, which the colonists soon grew to consider as a part of their common law, was yet in practice more or less nullified in the different colonies according as the Governor was able to impose his will on the courts or was opposed by an intelligent public opinion.

In other words, liberty of the press did not and could not exist in the colonial period, but the people accepted the principle and when they obtained the opportunity incorporated it in Bills of Rights and State Constitutions. The Continental Congress in issuing, on Oct. 21st, 1774, an “Address to the people of Canada” proceeded to detail and enlarge upon the rights to which English subjects were entitled, and among them placed the freedom of the press.[3]

We see the same point made by State after State.

Maryland, 1776: “That the liberty of the press ought to be inviolably preserved.”

Virginia, 1776: “That the freedom of the press is one of the great bulwarks of liberty, and can never be restrained but by despotic governments.”

Pennsylvania, 1776: “That the people have a right to freedom of speech, and of writing, and of publishing their sentiments; therefore the freedom of the press ought not to be restrained.”

Georgia, 1777: “Freedom of the press and trial by jury to remain inviolable forever.”

Vermont, 1777: “That the public have the right to freedom of speech and of writing and publishing their sentiments; therefore the freedom of the press ought not to be restrained.”

South Carolina, 1778: “That the liberty of the press be inviolably preserved.”

Massachusetts, 1780: “The liberty of the press is essential to the security of freedom in a state; and ought not, therefore, to be restrained in this commonwealth.”

New Hampshire, 1784: “The liberty of the press is essential to the security of freedom in a state; and it ought, therefore, to be inviolably preserved.”

Pinckney’s Plan of 1787: “The Legislature of the United States shall pass no law touching or abridging the liberty of the press.”

Delaware, 1792: “The press shall be free to every citizen who undertakes to examine the official conduct of men acting in a public capacity, and any citizen may print on any subject, being responsible for the abuse of that liberty. In prosecutions for publications investigating the proceedings of officers, or where the matter published is proper for public information, the truth thereof may be given in evidence; and in all indictments for libels, the jury may determine the facts and the law, as in other cases.”

After the Federal Convention came together in 1787 it was proposed to insert in the Constitution, “the liberty of the press shall be inviolably preserved.” This was defeated by six states against five.[4] But when the different States afterwards sent to the first Congress the proposals from which the first ten Amendments were selected we find in nearly all some reference to the liberty of the press. The article on the subject from Massachusetts was selected and now appears as a part of the First Amendment to the Constitution, “Congress shall make no law ... abridging the freedom of speech or of the press.”[5] And since that time nearly every Constitution drawn up by the different States has contained an admission of the principle so long contended for by supporters of the rights of the press, that, as David Hume says, “its liberties, and the liberties of the people must stand or fall together.”

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Andrews, Alexander—History of British Journalism; 2 vols. London, 1859.

Anson, Sir Wm. R.—Law and Custom of the Constitution; 2 vols. Oxford, 1886.

Barry, John Stetson—The History of Massachusetts; 3 vols. Boston, 1855.

Booth, Mary L.—The History of the City of New York. New York, 1880.

Bradford, Wm.—New England’s Spirit of Persecution Transmitted to Pennsylvania. New York, 1693.

Brodhead, John Romeyn—History of the State of New York; 2 vols. New York, v.d.

Brown, David Paul—The Forum; 2 vols. Philadelphia, 1856.

Brown, Henry B.—The Liberty of the Press; Am. Law Review, 34, 321.

Buckingham, Joseph T.—Specimens of Newspaper Literature, with Personal Memoirs, Anecdotes, and Reminiscences; 2 vols. Boston, 1852.

Burk, John D.—The History of Virginia from its first Settlement to the Present Day; 4 vols. Petersburg, Va., 1805.

Burn, John Southerden—The Star Chamber. London, 1870.

Chalmers, George—Political Annals of the Present United Colonies from the Settlement to the Peace of 1763. London, 1780.

Collier, Edward—Essay on the Law of Patents and the General History of Monopolies. London, 1803.

Cucheval-Clarigny, M.—Histoire de la Presse en Angleterre et aux Etats Unis. Paris, 1857.

De Peyster, Frederic—Early Political History of New York. New York, 1865.

Duane, Wm.—Canada and the Continental Congress, An Address delivered before the Historical Society of Pennsylvania. Philadelphia, 1850.

Dunlap, Wm.—History of New York; 2 vols. New York, 1839.

Eastman, F. S.—History of New York. New York, 1831.

Fisher & Strahan—Law of the Press. London, 1895.

Force, Peter—American Archives; 9 vols. Washington, v.d.

Ford, Paul Leicester—Journal of Hugh Gaine. New York, 1901.

Fowle, Daniel—Total Eclipse of Liberty. Boston, 1755.

Franklin, Benjamin—Autobiography. New York, 1849.

Fraser, Hugh—Privileges of the Press in relation to Libel; Law Quarterly Review, 7, 158.

Gentz, F. von—Reflections on the Liberty of the Press in Great Britain, London, 1820 (trans.)

Gordon, Wm. D. D.—The History of the Rise, Progress and Establishment of the Independence of the United States of America; 4 vols. London, 1788.

Grant, James—History of the Newspaper Press. London, 1840.

Hall, Robert—An Apology for the Freedom of the Press and for General Liberty. London, 1793.

Harrison, W. L. S.—Proceedings at the Printers Banquet held at the N. Y. Typographical Society, on the Occasion of Franklin’s Birthday, 1850. New York, 1850.

Hening, Wm. Waller—Statutes at Large of Virginia; 16 vols. New York, 1823.

Howell, T. B.—State Trials; 30 vols. London, v.d.

Hildeburn, Charles—Sketches of Printers and Printing in Colonial New York. New York, 1895.

Hudson, Frederick—A History of Journalism. New York, 1873.

Hunt, F. Knight—The Fourth Estate; Contributions Towards a History of Newspapers and of the Liberty of the Press; 2 vols. London, 1850.

Hutchinson, Thomas—History of Massachusetts; 2 vols. Salem, 1795.

Jefferson, Thomas—Notes on the State of Virginia. London, 1787.

Jones, Horatio Gates—Andrew Bradford, Founder of the Newspaper Press in the Middle States of America; An Address delivered at the Annual Meeting of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania. Philadelphia, 1869.

Lechford, Thomas—Note-Book. Am. Antiquarian Society; Vol. VII, 1885.

Leake, Isaac Q.—Memoirs of the Life and Times of General John Lamb. Albany, 1850.

Lincoln, Wm.—History of Worcester, Mass. Worcester, 1862.

Massachusetts—MS. Records of the Colony.

McAdam, David—History of the Bench and Bar of New York; 2 vols. New York, 1897.

McMaster, John Bach—A Free Press in the Middle Colonies. Princeton Review; Vol. I (N. S.)

Munsell, Joel—Annals of Albany; 10 vols. Albany, v.d.

New York—The Colonial Laws of; 5 vols. Albany, 1894.

New York—Votes and Proceedings of the General Assembly of the Colony of. 1691-1765; 2 vols. New York, 1765.

New York—Votes and Proceedings of the General Assembly of the Colony of. 1766-1776. Albany, 1820 (reprint).

New York—Votes and Proceedings of the Legislative Council, Albany. New York, 1861.

North, S. N. D.—Constitutional Development of the Colony of New York. Mag. Am. Hist. III, 161.

O’Callaghan, E. B.—Documents relative to the Colonial History of the State of New York; 11 vols. Albany, v.d.

Odgers, W. Blake—The Law of Libel. Philadelphia, 1887.

Pennsylvania—Minutes of the Provincial Council of; 3 vols. Philadelphia, 1852.

Proud, Robert—History of Pennsylvania; 2 vols. Philadelphia, 1798.

Ross, Peter—A History of Long Island. New York, 1903.

Rutherfurd, Livingston—John Peter Zenger. His Press, His Trial, and a Bibliography of his Imprints and those issued by his Wife and Son. Also a reprint of the Trial. New York, 1904.

Satterlee, Herbert L.—Political History of the Province of New York. New York, 1885.

Taylor, Hannis—The Freedom of the Press. Argument ex parte John L. Rapier, before Supreme Court of U. S., n.p., n.d.

Taylor, Henry Osborn—Development of Constitutional Government in the American Colonies. Mag. Am. Hist. II, 705.

Thomas, Benjamin Franklin, Memoir of Isaiah Thomas. Boston, 1874.

Thomas, Isaiah—History of Printing; 2 vols. Albany, 1874.

The Tryal of John Peter Zenger. London, 1738.

Wallace, John William—Address on Wm. Bradford. Albany, 1863.

Wallace, John William—Col. Wm. Bradford. Philadelphia, 1884.

Livingston Rowe Schuyler.

New York City.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Hudson, History of Journalism, p. 57.

[2] Howell’s State Trials XVII, 1243.

[3] Wm. Duane, “Canada and the Continental Congress,” p. 20.

[4] Journal of Convention, p. 217.

[5] Elliot’s Debates, Vol. I, p. 183.

RELICS OF COMMODORE JOHN BARRY IN PHILADELPHIA

Apropos of the proposed erection here of a monument to the memory of Commodore John Barry, it is interesting to know that in addition to his tomb in St. Mary’s Churchyard, on Fourth street below Locust, where he was buried, there are many other relics of the great naval commander in this city, which was his home and where he maintained both a town and country residence. In Fairmount Park, too, is a monument not known to many people, where one of the five figures of the fountain erected by the Catholic Total Abstinence Society is a statue of Barry. It is of heroic size and the inscription, besides reciting some of his principal exploits on the sea, describes him as the first commodore of the United States navy.

Nearly all the other relics are in the possession of Mrs. W. Horace Hepburn of this city, who is a great-grandniece of Barry, and also a granddaughter of Commodore Bainbridge, and to whom they have been handed down. They are of many kinds and, taken altogether, would form quite a museum. Some of them are particularly valuable as records of history, among these being the logs of the Alliance and other warships which Barry commanded. Another documentary relic is the commission as captain and commander of the frigate United States issued to Barry to “take rank from the fourth day of June, 1804.” It is dated February 22, 1797, however, and is signed by Washington. On the margin it is numbered “one,” showing it to have been the first captain’s commission issued in the navy of the new constitutional government.

Of nearly equal importance as a record is the certificate of Barry’s membership in the Society of the Cincinnati. With this Mrs. Hepburn has also the handsome jewelled badge of the order presented to him by Lafayette. It is in the regular form of the organization’s emblem, but is very ornate. It was manufactured in France. Also in Mrs. Hepburn’s possession is Stuart’s original portrait, a copy of which, by Colin Campbell Cooper, was presented to the city by the Hibernian Society in 1895, and now hangs in Independence Hall. The Stuart portrait was painted in this city.

Among the relics is a set of china, much of which was used on the frigate Alliance. Among these is a punch bowl and pitcher in white china, with a good picture of the frigate under full sail on each. This china was probably made in France, but that point has not as yet been definitely determined. What were also probably used on the ship are a number of glass goblets and other glassware, which are not particularly fine as to design and manufacture, but are none the less cherished as relics. There is also a considerable quantity of French china, with the monogram S. B., for Sarah Barry, on it, and a number of dinner plates, which were probably used in his house. Pertaining more closely to the commander’s seafaring career are one of his swords, a gun, and a full-dress uniform, the latter consisting of yellow nankeen knee breeches and vest, with a blue frock coat with immense brass buttons. The size of these garments emphasizes the well-known fact that the commodore was a very large man. Originally among the relics were a pair of silver knee buckles, which, before the collection came into the hands of its present owner, were melted down and made into teaspoons. How big they were may be inferred from the fact that they made six spoons. Mrs. Hepburn has these spoons, but says she would much prefer to have the silver in its original form of buckles. Commodore Barry’s watch is also in the collection, as is a large solid silver ale tankard, which was probably used on land.

Barry’s tomb in St. Mary’s churchyard is one of the most impressive mementos of him because of the inscription which it bears. The original tomb was erected by the commodore’s widow, but this became dilapidated through the ravages of time and the inscription, written by Dr. Benjamin Rush, a copy of which has been preserved in the Ridgeway branch of the Philadelphia Library, was barely decipherable as early as 1865. In 1876 the tomb was repaired, and now bears the following inscription:

“Sacred to the memory of Commodore John Barry, father of the American navy. Let the Christian patriot and soldier who visits these mansions of the dead view this monument with respect and veneration. Beneath it rest the remains of John Barry, who was born in County Wexford, Ireland, in the year 1745. America was the object of his patriotism, and the aim of his usefulness and ambition. At the beginning of the Revolutionary War he held the commission of captain in the then limited navy of the colonies. His achievements in battle and his renowned naval tactics merited for him the position of commodore, and to be justly regarded as the father of the American navy. He fought often and bled in the cause of freedom, but his deeds of valor did not diminish in him the virtues which adorned his private life. He was eminently gentle, kind, just, and charitable, and no less beloved by his family and friends than by his grateful country. Firm in the faith and practices of the Roman Catholic Church, he departed this life on the 13th day of September, 1803, in the fifty-ninth year of his age. In grateful remembrance, a few of his countrymen, members of St. Mary’s Church and others, have contributed towards this second monument, erected July 1, 1876. Requiescat in Pace.”

Commodore Barry’s deeds as a naval officer, the fact that he commanded the Lexington, the first armed cruiser; that he captured and brought to Philadelphia the first prize; that he fought the last naval battle, and many other such points in his brilliant record, are all embalmed in the nation’s history. In private life he was a loyal friend and a good citizen, social in his tastes, hearty in his manner, and genial to all. He was a sailor before joining our navy, having been placed in the merchant marine service by his father when a mere boy. He came to this country when probably about twenty-one years old, reaching Philadelphia from the island of Barbados, in command of the schooner Barbados. This was ten years before the Revolution, and from that time until the opening of the war he followed his career in these waters, and in command of vessels sailing between here and England. He was twice married, and both wives were buried in the same grave in St. Mary’s churchyard. His second wife, Sarah Austin, and her sister, Mary, are said to have made and presented to John Paul Jones the flag of the Bon Homme Richard. Commodore Barry died in 1803, at his country residence, “Strawberry Hill.” This was not the Strawberry Hill in Fairmount Park, but was located on Frankford Road, at Gunner’s Run. The body was brought to his city residence, on the south side of Chestnut Street, between Ninth and Tenth Streets, on a site about opposite the Record building, where the funeral took place.—Philadelphia Record.

BUSHNELL’S “TURTLE”

The successful use in the Russian-Japanese war (as is supposed, for no official statement has come from the Japanese officials) of submarine boats has obscured the historic fact that one hundred and thirty years ago the first attempt of the kind was made in the harbor of New York.

It is a fact that is not generally known, but which is of official record—that the first serious attempt in this line was the work of a Yale undergraduate. It was while a freshman at Yale, in the year 1771, that David Bushnell, an ingenious Connecticut boy, conceived the idea of a submarine vessel as a desirable means of defensive warfare. He kept at the problem throughout the four years of his college course, and by the time of his graduation, in 1775, had made several successful trial trips with his American Turtle, as his peculiar contrivance was called. The plans of this vessel were carefully examined a few years ago by Commander F. W. Barber, U. S. N., whose conclusion was that “it seems to have been the most perfect thing of its kind that has ever been constructed, either before or since the time of Bushnell.” Bushnell invented not only the first submarine boat of which there is any intelligent record, but the first torpedo as well. He discovered the principle of modern torpedo-mining—that is, the utilization of the pressure of the water to develop the desirable intensity of action in an explosion near the vessel to be destroyed. Furthermore, he was the first man to give the torpedo its modern name. All these triumphs he accomplished while an undergraduate student at Yale.

He gathered an assemblage of what he called “the first personages in Connecticut” to prove to them that this strange thing could be done. He first exploded two ounces of powder four feet under water, and later blew up a hogshead filled with stones, a wooden bottle, and a two-inch oak plank, greatly to the astonishment of his learned associates. After this preliminary display of what he could do, young Bushnell’s theories were held in greater respect throughout the rest of his college course. He had one great idea, however, and this was the possibility of constructing a boat that could sail under the enemy’s ship, attach to it a magazine with a sufficient charge of powder to destroy the vessel and all its men—the operator, meanwhile, getting safely away. He kept hard at work throughout his four undergraduate years, and by the time he was graduated had constructed such a machine and experimented with the most encouraging success.

He finished his vessel at an opportune time. He had its complicated mechanism complete and in fine running order when the Declaration of Independence was signed, and the war between England and America was under full way. He naturally had some difficulty in gaining a respectful hearing from the leading men on the colonial side. Although afterwards he was praised by Washington as “a man of great mechanical powers, fertile in inventions, and a master of execution,” his first real encouragement came from another Connecticut man, Israel Putnam. Bushnell explained his contrivance to Putnam, who after carefully examining the vessel, was much struck with its ingenuity and its possibilities of success. He gave the young inventor full permission to go ahead, and declared his intention of being present at the first trial.

The occasion for this preliminary experiment was soon at hand. The movements of General Washington about Long Island had been accompanied by the arrival of a large British fleet from Halifax under Admiral Lord Howe, brother of the commander of the British army. Putnam had been left with 4000 men in New York, and sent for Bushnell, inviting him to test his submarine boat against one of the enemy’s ships. Bushnell was himself physically incapacitated from managing his machine, for it required considerable strength. He had, however, taught his brother its fine points, and the latter in many trials had demonstrated his skill. At the critical time, however, the latter fell ill of a fever and a substitute had to be found. Ezra Lee of Lyme, Conn., was finally decided upon as the fittest man for the place. Lee had already volunteered to go in a fire-ship, and his bravery was unquestioned. Bushnell spent several days teaching Lee the management of the boat—altogether too short a time, as subsequent events showed. The British fleet lay a little above Staten Island, the flagship, against which it was determined to operate being the Eagle.

It was a queer craft, the like of which no man had ever seen, in which Ezra Lee embarked one dark night in August, 1776, with the firm intention of destroying the pick of the British fleet. Its shape suggested a turtle or rather two upper turtle shells, securely fastened together. A brass crown, resembling a hat, represented the head of the turtle; it was provided with glass windows, which supplied light while the boat was on the surface, and with several round doors, which were opened before submersion for the admission of air. The turtle rested in the water with its tail downwards, being held in position by a permanent lead ballast in the hold of 500 pounds. This was supplemented by 200 pounds of the same metal, which could be released at the will of the navigator, enabling him to rise suddenly to the surface. The turtle was made of oak, put together in the strongest manner; it was seven and one-half feet long and six feet high. It admitted only one person, who had room enough either to stand up or sit down. There were two air-tubes, one for letting the fresh air in and another for letting the foul air out. These were ingeniously arranged so that they operated whenever the boat was brought to the surface and closed immediately after it was submerged. There were no means of generating or supplying air while the contrivance was under water. Sufficient atmosphere to last the operator thirty minutes was supplied before the trial began, after the exhaustion of which he was obliged to rise to the surface.

The question of light presented a still greater difficulty. A candle exhausting the air too rapidly, Bushnell was obliged to find some less embarrassing substitute. He finally noted the points of the compass by two pieces of fox-fire wood—that is, wood that emitted a phosphoric light. The same method was used to determine the depth of the water. For this Bushnell constructed a peculiar contrivance, the secret of which is unknown, consisting of a glass tube, filled with water, in which a cork floated up and down. This cork was also covered with fox-fire, and by its rise and fall the operator could determine the depth to which his vessel was submerged. The boat was propelled back and forth by a paddle in front, shaped like the arm of a windmill. The operator turned this with a crank, and could go either forwards or backwards, as he desired. It was precisely the same principle as the modern screw, with the exception that it was placed in the bow instead of the stern of the boat. Another “oar,” identically the same, was arranged at right angles with the first, by means of which the vessel could be guided up or down. The progress of the boat was necessarily slow, but it is said that a strong man, with a favoring tide and current, could propel it three knots an hour. The rudder, also turned by a crank, could be used for sculling when desired. In the bottom of the vessel were two large water tanks, into which the water was let by a spring. It was by this means that the boat made its descent. There were two pumps, which the operator worked with his feet, for the expulsion of the water when he desired to rise. In case these failed to work, the two hundred pounds of lead on the bottom could be released, after which the rise was very sudden. The operator sat upright, with his head in the crown of the vessel, and by a dexterous use of his hands and feet, had little difficulty in completely mastering his boat. It required considerable practice, however, and unusual strength.

This was Bushnell’s submarine boat, but it was only one feature of his invention. His other discovery, the torpedo, was ingeniously combined with his vessel. On the stern of the boat, just above the rudder, on the outside, was a large cask, made of two pieces of oak, carefully caulked and tarred, and bound together with iron. The interior was dug out and contained a charge of powder. Within was a gun-lock, which was arranged to strike fire whenever a clock-work attachment ran down. The magazine was fastened to the boat by a screw, which could be unscrewed from within. It was contrived so that when the magazine should be disengaged from the vessel the clock-work should be set agoing. The clock-work ran down in about thirty minutes, when the gun-lock went off and ignited the charge. A short cable attached the magazine to another screw in the top of the vessel. From within the operator could fasten this screw into the bottom of a vessel and fill his own boat at the same time. He could, therefore, sail safely away, leaving the magazine attached to the bottom of the enemy’s man-of-war, and await developments.

There was no evident reason why the attempt upon the Eagle should not have a satisfactory issue. Sergeant Lee was obliged to wait several nights for a favorable opportunity. Finally, at eleven o’clock one night in August, he embarked on his dangerous voyage. General Putnam was on the wharf when he pushed off, and kept a constant watch throughout the next few hours. Lee was towed by whale-boats as near the ships as the oarsmen dared to go, and was then cast off. He discovered that it was too early to make the attempt. The tide was running strong, and, in spite of all that he could do, it carried him far beyond the ships. He rowed aimlessly around until the tide slowed up, when he made directly for the man-of-war. He drew so near under the stern of the ships that he could see the British sailors and hear their voices. At a favorable moment he let the water into the reservoirs and sank. Everything up to this point worked splendidly. He had no difficulty in managing his boat under the water, and took up a favorable position directly under the keel of the man-of-war, near the stern. He at once proceeded to attach the screw to the bottom of the vessel, when he struck a formidable opposition. He had not figured on the copper with which the bottom of the ship was covered, and which resisted all his attempts to fasten the screw. At every attempt the boat rebounded from the vessel’s bottom. Lee finally moved to another part of the ship, and in so doing lost his hold completely, and rose with tremendous velocity to the surface. He came within two or three feet of the man-of-war, upon whose destruction he had been bent—a rather uncomfortable circumstance, especially as it was nearly daylight. He at once, therefore, filled the reservoirs and sank again. As it would soon be morning, however, and as he had four miles to row, he decided to abandon his attempt to blow up the man-of-war, and instead to look out for his own safety. Bushnell never blamed Lee for his failure to execute the plan, owing to the fact that he had had such slight preparation for the task.

There was naturally much disappointment over this initial failure, and especially when a British frigate came up and anchored off Bloomingdale, and Lee made another equally unsuccessful attempt. His intention this time was to go up to the stern of the vessel and, without sinking, screw in his magazine close to the edge. Discovered by the watch, he dove under the frigate, but went too deep and came up on the other side. In the year 1777, however, Bushnell sent one of his machines against the Cerberus, a British frigate, lying at anchor between New London and the mouth of the Connecticut River. The machine instead fell in with a schooner, anchored astern of the frigate, which had escaped Bushnell’s observation. It blew up the schooner, completely demolishing it, and killed three men. Bushnell was very much cast down by the failure of his contrivance, which he believed had never had a fair show. At the end of the war he went to France, and was present during the stirring scenes of the Revolution. His relatives lost all track of him, and supposed that he had died in a French prison or upon the guillotine, until, in 1826, they received information of his death in Georgia.

B. J. Hendrick.

ANTHONY WALTON WHITE

[Concluded from January Number.]

At the end of the “Western Insurrection,” in 1794, General White issued the following address to the troops:

Bedford (Pa.), December 5, 1794.

The dismission and sudden departure of the Cavalry, by Troops, from Pittsburgh to their respective states and counties, prevented the General of Cavalry from conveying in Orders, at that place and period, the thanks and good wishes of the Commander-in-Chief, so handsomely and friendly expressed in the following extract from his Excellency’s last Orders, viz.: “To the Officers of every description he presents his warmest thanks, for the faithful and able support which he has derived from their exertion, in every stage of the execution of the objects intrusted to his direction; and he intrusts them to convey to his fellow-soldiers, in the most lively terms, his respectful attachment, and his best wishes for their safe return, and happy meeting with their friends.”

This praise, though flattering and justly due, cannot equal the self-approbation every good citizen must experience, who has taken so decided a part to check rebellion, restore order, and establish the best of Constitutions. The nature of Cavalry service directed the propriety of ordering a separation of the Brigade, after passing the mountains, and now affords the General an opportunity of congratulating those officers, who were favoured with separate commands, on the success attending the design of the separation; as it must be acknowledged, that the Brigade of Cavalry, with those three very respectable Troops from the city of Philadelphia, commanded by Captains Dunlap, Singer, and M’Connel, capturing in one day, and almost at the same hour, every Insurgent of the western counties of Pennsylvania, who had not previously fled from Justice, or signed a submission to the laws to which they had so basely encouraged an opposition. The complete execution of this enterprise expresses, in lively colours, the great address of the Cavalry Officers, and the military prowess of their respective Commands.

Deign, fellow-citizens and brother-soldiers, who have acted under the General’s Orders, to accept of his warmest thanks for the cheerfulness and promptitude you have shown in obeying and executing his Orders. The satisfaction he experienced in commanding you can never be erased from his mind. This became sometimes painful, by observing old military rank, gray hairs, wealth, and character, placed, by choice, in a subordinate situation, which unpleasant circumstance could only be removed by beholding, at the same time, such honourable evidence of this fact, that a true American will never embrace considerations of this kind, to shield him from dangers and hardships, when called to support the laws of his country, should they ever again be insulted or opposed by any men or set of men, wickedly combined for that purpose. Dictates of Justice direct the General of Cavalry to request Doctor Charles Smith, Brigade Surgeon; Major Carle, Inspector of the Brigade; Major Samuel Clarkson, Brigade-Quarter-Master, and Major John Striker, Brigade-Forage-Master, to accept his thanks, for the attention they have paid to their respective departments. Acknowledgements are also due from the General to Le Chevalier D’Auterroches, his Aid-de-Camp, and to Brigade-Major Dunham and Coejeman, for their faithful services. Colonels Hubley and Gibbons, who honoured the General with acting under his Orders as volunteer Brigade-Majors, will likewise please to accept his unfeigned thanks for the aid he received from them. Major James Dunham, who has the honour to bring up the rear of the Army, and is intrusted with the deposite of their victories, has fully merited that honour, by the great attention and humanity shown, by him, to those unfortunate prisoners under his immediate charge; which has been often noticed by the General, with the greatest satisfaction, during the march to this place; and speaks in strong language, the goodness of the Major’s heart. A continuation of the same attention, with every precaution for the safety of those unhappy instruments of designing men, is warmly recommended, till they shall be delivered up to the Marshal of the state of Pennsylvania. To every individual of the Cavalry, whom the General has had the honour to command, he now bids an affectionate farewell; and sincerely wishes them every domestic happiness.

Anthony W. White,
Brig. Gen. commanding the Cavalry
ordered on the western Expedition.

(FROM CONTEMPORARY PRINTS)

New Brunswick, Feb. 3, 1795.

On Monday, the 26th, seventy-five officers of the New Jersey cavalry, met in this city and dined together at the White Hall Tavern, His Excellency the Governor and suite honored them with their company at dinner, after which fifteen toasts were drank. The next day all the officers waited on General White, delivered the following address to him, and partook of a cold collation at his house.

Sir.

With unfeigned satisfaction, we embrace this occasion, the earliest we have been able to command, to make our warmest acknowledgements to you for the very polite and friendly sentiment conveyed to us in your last cavalry orders. This public testimony of your partiality to us and interest in our happiness, has been fully evinced in many trying circumstances. Raw and undisciplined as we were, to have met the approbation of one, so complete in military science, cannot but vastly enhance the pleasing sensations we derive, from having lent a willing aid in support of our happy constitution. If we have acted with a degree of reputation to ourselves; if we have rendered service to our country, to you sir, are we much indebted for both these advantages. Your activity, combined with an extensive knowledge of your important duties, have at all times been eminently conspicuous; your zeal for the public good, and an affectionate regard for the honor and happiness of the New Jersey cavalry, have been too well noticed and too sincerely approved, ever to be effaced from our remembrance. To see the man, who has spent years in a continued struggle for freedom, and bled in asserting our dearest rights, again at the call of his country, step forward with that ardent enthusiasm which true liberty ever inspires, did not fail to command our grateful admiration and render us emulous of such virtue. May that sacred flame of liberty which you have been so instrumental in lighting up and supporting, long burn bright in this new world and extend its genial influence from continent to continent, until tyranny shall disappear and the whole world would be emancipated.

Accept sir, our warmest approbation of your conduct and our sincere prayer that your life may be long continued, as useful to your country, an honor to the New Jersey Cavalry, and full of every comfort to yourself.

In behalf of the officers of the New Jersey Cavalry on the late expedition.

Benj. Williamson, Maj.
Com. 1st. Reg. Jersey Cavalry.

January 27, 1795.

To which the General replied: That the polite and affectionate address of his fellow citizens and brother soldiers, expressing their approbation of his conduct added to the heart felt satisfaction he had already experienced from his late honourable commands, claimed our warmest acknowledgements, and sincerely wish that they might enjoy every happiness and a tender of his friendship and services.

The officers spent several days together in that harmony and true friendship, to be expected only from men warmly interested in the good of their country, and the happiness of each other.

Judge Paterson, Major General Dayton and several gentlemen and officers of character and distinction, visited the social board of this patriotic band of citizen soldiers. We are told that they have appointed Major Williamson of Essex, Major Meeker of Bergen, Major Laddle of Morris, Major Baily of Sussex, Major Carle of Hunterdon, Major Quay of Monmouth, Major Dunham of Middlesex, Captain Vanderveer of Somerset, and Captains Wollcot and Shute of the Western counties, a committee to wait on the Legislature with a memorial, praying redress of certain grievances which the cavalry are subject to, from the present militia law, and that the same may be formed into regiments, we also hear that they have agreed to meet annually, at such time and place as their General may please to fix.

On Thursday last, Anthony Walton White, Esq., Adjutant-General of the Militia of New Jersey, accompanied by Generals Frelinghuysen and Bloomfield, and politely attended by the members of Congress from this State, waited upon the President of the United States, and, in behalf of the officers of the New Jersey Militia, presented the following address:

Sir.

The Commander-in-Chief, the General Officers, the General Staff and Field Officers of the Militia of the State of New Jersey, feel in common with their numerous fellow citizens who have addressed you in the present critical situation of our nation, and most cordially join them in expressing to you their high approbation of your conduct in the management of its foreign concerns, and their indignation for the insult offered to the honor and independence of the American people.

We come not, Sir, to dictate—whether peace can be preserved with the safety of our national dignity, or whether an appeal is to be made to arms, are questions intrusted to those in whose patriotism we confide, and according to their decision we shall always be prepared to act. But, Sir, at this eventful period, we deem it our duty, and feel it a pleasure, respectfully to approach our Commander-in-Chief, and to make him a solemn proffer of our lives and fortunes in the service of our country. It is not, Sir, for soldiers to boast; but we know the troops whom we have the honor to command; we have been eye witnesses to their zeal in the cause of freedom; we have been their companions in many toils and many sufferings, and if our beloved country calls, we shall again cast the eye of confidence along their embattled ranks.

Let our enemies flatter themselves that we are a divided people. In New Jersey, Sir, with the exception of a few degraded and a few deluded characters, to whose persons and to whose services the invading foe shall be welcome the moment of their arrival, and whom we engage to convey in safety to their lines—in New Jersey, Sir, there is but ONE VOICE, and that is the voice of confidence in the federal government: the voice of perfect satisfaction with your administration of it; and the voice of firmness and determination to support the laws and constitution, the honor and dignity of the United States; and, Sir, for the defence of these, we do this day, in the presence of the God of armies, and in firm reliance in his protection, solemnly pledge to you our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.

COMMANDER IN CHIEF AND GENERAL STAFF OFFICERS

MAJOR GENERALS

Elias Dayton,

Wm. Helmes,

F. Frelinghuysen,

Joseph Bloomfield.

BRIGADIER GENERALS

John N. Cumming,

Richard Dey,

John Doughty,

James Giles,

Elisha Lawrence,

John F. Morris,

Clarkson Edgar,

John Hilt,

Joseph Brearly,

Franklin Davenport,

John Heard,

A. V. Middlesworth,

Wm. Todd,

Clement Wood,

John Hardenburgh,

Wm. M’Kussack,

John Frelinghuysen,

Gershom Dunn,

Samuel Morford,

John Baird,

J. Veghte,

Andrew Lyle.

LIEUT. COLONELS

James Heddin,

Wm. Crane,

Jedediah Swan,

C. Ford,

Jacob Arnold,

Wm. W. Bell,

Thomas Blanch,

Nehemiah Wade,

Prudden Alling,

Samuel Quay,

Wessel T. Stout,

Barnes Smock,

James Green,

Elias Conover,

P. J. Stryker,

Henry Vanderveer,

James Henry,

E. Beatty,

Robert Ross,

Wm. M’Cullough,

Chs. Pemberton,

David Bishop,

David Schamp,

John Vancleve,

Jona. Black,

P. Hunt,

Thomas Heston,

Joshua L. Howell,

Daniel Benszett,

Dayton Newcomb,

Aula M’Calta,

Eli Elmer,

Joshua Sihnn,

I. Beekman,

Andrew Sinnickson,

Phinehas Carman,

Joseph Marsh,

Andrew M’Dowell,

C. Shipmons,

Thomas Paul,

Wm. Kolberdieu,

Wm. Gasill,

John M’Peck,

Richard Edsall,

Elias Ogden,

Solomon Broderick,

John Stevens,

John Stevenson,

Charles Reading,

Jona. Smith,

Jona. Porter,

Wm. Dumont,

Samuel Becks,

Robert Lucas,

Joseph M’Ilvaine,

Wm. Pearson,

John Lawrence,