Military Journal, During the American Rev. War - Part 11



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES 

MAJOR-GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM.

THE life of this patriot and hero has been portrayed by the able and 
impartial hand of the late General David Humphreys, and a brief sketch, 
chiefly from that work, must suffice for the present purpose. General 
Putnam was born at Salem, Massachusetts, on the 7th day of January, 1718. 
He was indebted to nature, more than education, for a vigorous 
constitution, for mental endowments, and for that undaunted courage and 
active enterprise which were his prominent characteristics. Much 
confidence was reposed in his military prowess and judgment, and he was 
remarkable for a faithful perseverance in all the duties of his station, 
and for the most undeviating principles of honor, humanity and 
benevolence. In the year 1739, be removed to Pomfret, in Connecticut, 
where he applied himself to the art of agriculture. His biographer, as a 
display of character in early life, has recorded an instance of his bold 
attack of a wolf while in her den; but as the story has been frequently 
promulgated, it need not be repeated in this place. When in the year 1755, 
the war between England and France broke out in America, Putnam was 
appointed to the command of a company of rangers, and was distinguished 
for his active services as a partizan officer. In 1757, he was promoted to 
a majority, and being in a warm and close engagement with a party of 
French and savages, be had discharged his fuzee several times, when at 
length it missed fire while the muzzle was pressed against the breast of a 
large and well-proportioned Indian. This adversary, with a tremendous war-
whoop, sprang forward with his lifted hatchet, and compelled him to 
surrender; and having bound him fast to a tree returned to the battle. For 
a considerable time the tree to which Major Putnam was tied was directly 
between the fires of the two parties, than which no conceivable situation 
could be more deplorable. The balls flew incessantly from each side, many 
struck the tree, while some passed through the sleeves and skirts of his 
coat. In this state of jeopardy, unable to move his body, to stir his 
limbs, or even to incline his head, he remained more than an hour-so 
equally balanced and so obstinate was the fight! At one moment, while the 
battle swerved, in favor of the enemy, a young savage, chose an odd way of 
discovering his humor. He found Putnam bound. He might have despatched him 
at a blow.; But be loved better to excite the terrors of the prisoner by 
hurling a tomahawk at his head, or rather it should seem his object was to 
see how near he could throw it without touching him. The weapon struck in 
the tree a number of times at a hair's-breadth from the mark. When the 
Indian had finished his amusement, a French bas-officer, a much more 
inveterate savage by nature, though descended from so humane and polished 
a nation, perceiving Putnam, came to him, and, levelling a fuzee within a 
foot of his breast, attempted to discharge it-it missed fire. 
Ineffectually did the intended victim solicit the treatment due to his 
situation, by repeating that be was a prisoner of war. The degenerate 
Frenchman did not understand the language of honor or of nature; deaf to 
their voice, and dead to sensibility, he violently and repeatedly pushed 
the muzzle of his gun against Putnam's rib's, and finally gave him a cruel 
blow on the jaw with the butt-end of his piece. After this dastardly deed 
he left him.

At length the enemy was driven from the field of battle, and, as they were 
retiring, Putnam was untied by the Indian who had made him prisoner, and 
whom he afterwards called master. Having been conducted to some distance 
from the place of action, be was stripped of his coat, vest, stockings and 
shoes; loaded with as many of the packs of the wounded as could be piled 
on him, strongly pinioned and his wrists tied as closely together as they 
could be pulled with a cord. After be had marched through no pleasant 
paths, in this painful manner, for many a tedious mile, the party, who 
were excessively fatigued, halted to breathe. His bands were now 
immoderately swelled from the tightness of the ligature, and the pain had 
become intolerable. His feet were so much scratched, that the blood 
dropped fast from them. Exhausted with bearing a burden above his 
strength, and frantic with torments exquisite beyond endurance, be 
intreated the Irish interpreter to implore, as the last and only grace he 
desired of the savages, that they would knock him on the head, and take 
his scalp at once, or loose his bands. A French officer, instantly 
interposing, ordered his hands to be unbound, and some of the packs to be 
taken off. By this time the Indian who captured him and had been absent 
with the wounded, coming up, gave him a pair of moccasins, and expressed 
great indignation at the unworthy treatment his prisoner had suffered.

That savage chief again returned, to the care of the wounded, and the 
Indians, about two hundred in number, went before the rest of the party to 
the place where the whole were that night to encamp. They took with them 
Major Putnam, on whom, besides innumerable other outrages, they had the 
barbarity to inflict a deep wound withthe tomahawk in the left cheek. His 
sufferings were in this place to be consummated. A scene of horror, 
infinitely greater than had ever met his eyes before, was now preparing. 
It was determined to roast him alive. For this purpose they led him into a 
dark forest, stripped him naked, bound him to a tree, and piled dry brush, 
with other fuel, at a small distance, in a circle round him. They 
accompanied their labors, as if for his funeral dirge, with screams and 
sounds, inimitable but by savage voices. Then they set the piles on fire. 
A sudden shower damped the rising flame. Still they strove to kindle it; 
at last the blaze ran fiercely round the circle. Major Putnam soon began 
to feel the scorching beat. His hands were so tied that he could move his 
body. He often shifted sides as the fire approached. This sight, at the 
very idea of which all but savages must shudder, afforded the highest 
diversion to his inhuman tormentors, who demonstrated the delirium of 
their joy by corresponding yells, dances and gesticulations. He saw 
clearly that his final hour was inevitaby come. He summoned all his 
resolution, and composed his mind, so far as the circumstances could 
admit, to bid an eternal farewell to all he held most dear. To quit the 
world would scarcely have cost a single pang; but for the idea of home, 
but for the remembrance of domestic endearments, of the affectionate 
partner of his soul, and of their beloved offspring. His thought was 
ultimately fixed on a happier state of existence, beyond the tortures he 
was beginning to endure. The bitterness of death, even of that death which 
is accompanied with the keenest agonies, was, in a manner, past - nature, 
with a feeble struggle, was quitting its last hold on sublunary things, 
when a French officer rushed through the crowd, opened a way by scattering 
the burning brands, and unbound the victim. It was Molang himself - to 
whom a savage, unwilling to see another human victim immolated, had run 
and communicated the tidings. That commandant spurned and severely 
reprimanded the barbarians, whose nocturnal powwas and hellish orgies he 
suddenly ended. Putnam did not want for feeling or gratitude. The French 
commander, fearing to trust him alone with them, remained till he could 
safely deliver him into the hands of his master.

The savage approached his prisoner kindly, and seemed to treat him with 
particular affection. He offered him some hard biscuit; but finding that 
he could not chew them, on account of the blow he had received from the 
Frenchman, this more humane savage soaked some of the biscuit in water, 
and made him suck the pulp-like part. Determined, however, not to lose his 
captive, the refreshmentment being finished, he took the moccasins from 
his feet, and tied them to one of his wrists; then directing him to lie 
down on his back on the hard ground, he stretched one arm to its full 
length, and bound it fast to a young tree; the other arm was extended and 
bound in the same manner - his legs were stretched apart, and fastened to 
two saplings. Then a number of tall, but slender poles were cut down, 
which, with some long bushes, were laid across his body from head to foot: 
on each side lay as many Indians as could conveniently find lodging, in 
order to prevent the possibility of his escape. In this disagreeable and 
painful posture he remained till morning. During the night, (the longest 
and most dreary conceivable) our hero used to relate that he felt a ray of 
cheerfulness come casually across his mind, and could not even refrain 
from smiling when he reflected on this ludicrous group for a painter, of 
which he himself was the principal figure.

The next day be was allowed his blanket and moccasins and permitted to 
march without carrying any pack or receiving any insult. To allay his 
extreme hunger, a little bear's-meat was given, which he sucked through 
his teeth. At night the party arrived at Ticonderoga, and the prisoner was 
placed under the care of a French guard. The savages, who had been 
prevented from glutting their diabolical thirst for blood, took this 
opportunity of manifesting their malevolence for the disappointment by 
horrid grimaces and angry gestures; but they were suffered no more to 
offer violence or personal indignity to him.

After having been examined by the Marquis de Montcalm, Major Putnam was 
conducted to Montreal by a French officer, who treated him with the 
greatest indulgence and humanity.

At this place were several prisoners. Colonel Peter Schuyler, remarkable 
for his philanthropy, generosity and friendship, was of the number. No 
sooner had he heard of Major Putnam's arrival, than be went to the 
interpreter's quarters, and inquired whether he had a Provincial major in 
his custody? He found Major Putnam in a comfortable condition - without 
coat, waistcoat, or hose - the remnant of his clothing miserably dirty and 
ragged - his beard long and squalid - his legs torn by thorns and briers - 
his face gashed with wounds and swollen with bruises. Colonel Schuyler, 
irritated beyond all sufferance at such a sight, could scarcely restrain 
his speech within limits consistent with the prudence of a prisoner and 
the meekness of a Christian. Major Putnam was immediately treated 
according to his rank, clothed in a decent manner, and supplied with money 
by this liberal and sympathetic patron of the distressed, and by his 
assistance he was soon after exchanged.

In the year 1760, Major Putnam was promoted to the rank of lieutenant-
colonel, and served under General Amherst in the conquest of Canada. He 
embraced numerous opportunities of achieving feats of valor, and was 
particularly honored by his general for the promptitude and ability with 
which he acquitted himself of his arduous duty. "Colonel Putnam, at the 
expiration of ten years from his first receiving a commission, after 
having seen as much service, endured as many hardships, encountered as 
many dangers, and acquired as many laurels, as any officer of his rank, 
with great satisfaction laid aside his uniform and returned to his 
plough." No character stood fairer in the public eye for integrity, 
bravery and patriotism. It was proverbially said, as well by British as 
Provincial officers, that, in a service of great peril and hardship, from 
1755 to 1763, "he dared to lead where any dared to follow."

At the commencement of hostilities between the colonies and the mother-
country, Colonel Putnam, on hearing of the battle at Lexington, left his 
plough in the middle of the field, and, without changing his clothes, 
repaired to Cambridge, riding in a single day one hundred miles. He was 
soon appointed a major-general in the provincial army, and, returning to 
Connecticut, he made no delay in bringing on a body of troops. Not long 
after his appointment, the commander of the British army, unwilling that 
so valuable an officer should act in opposition, privately conveyed to him 
a proposal that if be would quit the rebel party, he might rely on being 
made a major-general in the British establishment, and receiving a great 
pecuniary compensation for his services; but he spurned the offer. "On the 
16th of June,1775, it was determined in a council of war, at which General 
Putnam assisted, that a fortified post should be established at or near 
Bunker-hill. General Putnam marched with the first detachment and 
commenced the work; he was the principal agent or engineer who traced the 
lines of the redoubt, and be continued most, if not all the night with the 
workmen: at any rate, he was on the spot before sun-rising in the morning, 
and had taken his station on the top of Bunker-hill, and participated in 
the danger as well as the glory of that day." In the spring of the year 
1818 an account of the battle of Bunkerhill was published in the Port 
Folio by Henry Dearborn, Esq., major-general in the army of the United 
States, in which he animadverts on the conduct of General Putnam with 
great severity. To this production Daniel Putnam, Esq., son of the late 
general, has published a rejoinder, from which I have taken the 
testimonials which follow.

A Letter from the Hon. Judge Grosvenor, of Pomfret, Connecticut.

"Being under the command of General Putnam Putnam, part of our regiment,
and a much larger number of Massachusetts troops, under Colonel Prescott, 
were ordered to march on the evening of the 16th of June, 1775 to Breed's-
hill, where, under the immediate superintendence of General Putnam, ground 
was broken and a redoubt formed. On the following day, the 17th, 
dispositions were made to deter the advance of the enemy, as there was 
reason to believe an immediate attack was intended. General Putnam during 
the period was extremely active, and directed principally the operations. 
All were animated, and their general inspired confidence by his example. 
The British army, having made dispositions for landing at Morton's Point, 
were covered by the fire of shot and shells from Copp's-hill in Boston, 
which it had opened on our redoubt early in the morning, and continued the 
greater part of the day. At this moment a detachment of four lieutenants, 
of which I was one, and one hundred and twelve men, selected the preceding 
day from General Putnam's regiment, under Captain Knowlton, were by the 
general ordered to take post at a rail-fence on the left of the breastwork 
that ran north from the redoubt to the bottom of Breed's-hill. This order 
was promptly executed, and our detachment, in advancing to the post, took 
one rail fence and placed it against another, as a partial cover, nearly 
parallel with the line of the breastwork, and extended our left nearly to 
Mystic river, Each man was furnished with one pound of gun-powder and 
forty-eight balls. This ammunition was received, however, prior to 
marching to Breed's-hill. In this position our detachment remained till a 
second division of British troops landed, when they commenced a fire of 
their field artillery of several rounds, and particularly against the rail-
fence; then formed in columns, advanced to the attack, displayed in line 
at about the distance of musket-shot, and commenced firing. At this 
instant our whole line opened on the enemy, and so precise and fatal was 
our fire, that in the course of a short time they gave way, and retired in 
disorder out of musket-shot, leaving before us many killed and wounded. 
There was but a short respite on the part of the British, as their lines 
were soon filled up and led against us, when they were met as before, and 
forced back with great loss. On reinforcements joining the enemy, they 
made a direct advance on the redoubt, and being successful, which our 
brave Captain Knowlton perceiving, ordered a retreat of his men, in which 
he was sustained by two companies under the command of Captains Clark and 
Chester. The loss in our detachment I presume was nearly equal. Of my own 
immediate command of thirty men and one subaltern, there were eleven 
killed and wounded; among the latter was myself, though not so severely as 
to prevent my retiring. At the rail-fence there was not posted any corps 
save our own, under Knowlton, at the time the firing commenced; nor did I 
hear of any other being there, till long after the action. Other troops, 
it is said, were ordered to join us, but refused doing so. Of the officers 
on the ground, the most active within my observation were General Putnam, 
Colonel Presscott, and Captain Knowlton; but no doubt there were many 
more, equally brave and meritorious, who must naturally have escaped the 
eye of one attending to his own immediate command.

"Thus you have a brief statement of my knowledge of the action, without 
descending to particulars. To conclude, it is matter of surprise, even of 
astonishment to me, my dear air, that I am called on to state my opinion 
of the character of your honored father, General Putnam, who was ever the 
first in public life at the post of honor and danger, and who, in his 
private conduct, was excelled by none. Look but at his services in the 
French and Indian wars from 1755 to 1763, and finally at those of the 
revolution, and you will need no proof to refute the calumny of common 
defamers.

"With respect, I am, yours, truly,
"THOMAS GROSVENOR.

"Colonel Daniel Putnam."

The following is a letter from Colonel John Trumbull, of New York, an 
officer of distinction in the revolutionary war, and now a celebrated 
historical painter, employed in his profession by the government of the 
United States, dated, New York, 30th of March, 1818:

"In the summer of 1786, 1 became acquainted in London with Colonel John 
Small, of the British army, who had served in America many years, and had 
known General Putnam intimately during the war of Canada, from 1756 to 
1763. From him I had the two following anecdotes respecting the battle of 
Bunker-hill. I shall nearly repeat his words: Looking at the picture which 
I had then almost completed, he said: 'I don't like the situation in which 
you have placed my old friend Putnam.; you have not done him justice. I 
wish you would alter that part of your picture, and introduce a 
circumstance which actually happened and which I can never forget. When 
the British troops advanced the second time to the attack of the redoubt, 
I with other officers was in front Of the line to encourage the men; we 
had advanced very near the works undisturbed, when an irregular fire like 
a feu de joie was poured in on us; it was cruelly fatal. The troops fell 
back, and when I looked to the right and left, I saw not one officer 
standing. I glanced my eye to the enemy, and saw several young men 
levelling their pieces at me; I knew their excellence as marksmen, and 
considered myself gone. At this moment my old friend Putnam rushed 
forward, and striking up the muzzles of their with his sword, cried out, 
'For God's sake, my lads, don't fire at that man! - I love him as I do my 
brother.' We were so near each other that I heard his words distinctly. He 
was obeyed; I bowed, thanked him, and walked away unmolested.'

"The other anecdote relates to the death of General Warren. At the moment 
when the troops succeeded in carrying the redoubt and the Americans were 
in full retreat, General Howe, who had been hurt by a spent ball, which 
bruised his ankle, was leaning on my arm. He called suddenly to me: 'Do 
you see that elegant young man who has just fallen? - do you know him?' I 
looked to the spot to which he pointed: 'Good God, sir, I believe it is my 
friend Warren.' 'Leave me then instantly - run - keep off the troops-save 
him if possible.' - I flew to the spot. 'My dear friend' I said to him, 'I 
hope you are not badly hurt.' He looked up, seemed to recollect me, 
smiled, and died! A musket-ball had passed through the upper part of his 
head. Colonel Small had the character of an honorable, upright man, and 
could have no conceivable motive for deviating from truth in relating 
these circumstances to me; I therefore believe them to be true. You 
remember, my dear Sir, the viper biting the file. The character of your 
father for courage, humanity, generosity and integrity is too firmly 
established, by the testimony of those who did know him, to be tarnished 
by the breath of one who confesses that he did not. Accept, my dear air, 
this feeble tribute to your father's memory, from one who knew him, 
respected him, loved him - and who wishes health and prosperity to you and 
all the good man's posterity.
"JOHN TRUMBULL

"Daniel Putnam, Esquire."

"I shall make no comment," says Colonel Putnam, "on the first anecdote by 
Colonel Small, except that the circumstances were related by General 
Putnam, without any essential alteration, soon after the battle; and that 
there was an interview of the parties on the lines between Prospect and 
Bunker-hill, at the request of Colonel Small, not long afterwards."

It is very apparent that General Washington reposed great confidence in 
the skill and judgment of General Putnam, or he would not have intrusted 
him with the command of the city of New York at the moment when it was 
expected that the whole of the British land and naval forces would attempt 
to take possession of that city. On the 29th of March, 1776, the commander-
in-chief gave to General Putnam the following orders and instructions: 
"You will, no doubt, make the best despatch in getting to New York; on 
your arrival there, you will assume the command, and immediately proceed 
in continuing to execute the plan proposed by Major-General Lee, for 
fortifying that city, and securing the passes of the East and North 
rivers. If, on consultation with the brigadier-generals and engineers, any 
alteration in that plan is thought necessary, you are at liberty to make 
it, cautiously avoiding to break in too much on his main design, unless 
where it may be apparently necessary so to do, and that by the general 
voice and opinion of the gentlemen above mentioned. You will meet the 
quarter-master-general, Colonel Mifflin, and commissary-general, Colonel 
Trumbull, at New York. As these are both men of excellent talents in their 
different departments, you will do well to give them all the authority and 
assistance they require; and should a council of war be necessary, it is 
my direction that they assist at it. Your long service and experience 
will, better than my particular directions at this distance, point out to 
you the works most proper to be first raised, and your perseverance, 
activity and zeal will lead you, without my recommending it, to exert 
every nerve to disappoint the enemy's designs."

"The faithful execution of the duties here enjoined were acknowledged by 
the commander-in-chief after his arrival in New York, and his thanks were 
publicly expressed in general orders. Two days before the battle of 
Flatbush, in consequence of the sickness of that excellent officer, Major-
General Greene, who had commanded on Long IsIand, General Putnam was 
ordered to the command of that post, and assisted in the arduous and 
complicated difficulties of that masterly retreat. In the memorable and 
distressing flight of the American army through New Jersey, in 1776, 
General Putnam was always near - always the friend, the supporter, and 
confidant of his beloved chief; and the moment after reaching the western 
bank of the Delaware with the rear of the army, he was ordered to 
Philadelphia, to fortify and defend that city against a meditated attack. 
When, in the summer of 1777, Fort Montgomery was captured by the enemy, 
and it was determined to erect another fortification on the banks of the 
Hudson for the defence of that river, the commander-in-chief left it 
wholly to the judgment of General Putnam to fix on the spot, who decided 
in favor of West Point; and, as his biographer has remarked, 'it is no 
vulgar praise to say, that to him belongs the glory of having chosen this 
rock of our military salvation.'"

As an instance of the decision of his temper, the following is deserving 
of notice. A man by the name of Nathan Palmer was detected in General 
Putnam's camp, who, on trial, was found to be a lieutenant in the tory new 
levies. Governor Tryon, their commander, addressed General Putnam, and 
reclaimed Palmer as a British officer, and threatened vengeance in case he 
should be executed. This drew from him a reply in the following laconic 
style:

"SIR: Nathan Palmer, a lieutenant in your king's service, was taken in my 
camp as a spy, - he was tried as a spy, - he was condemned as a spy-and 
you may rest assured, sir, that he shall be hanged as a spy.
"I have the honor to be, &c.
"ISRAEL PUTNAM.

"His Excellency Governor Tryon.

"P. S. Afternoon. He is hanged."

In December, 1779, while on his return from Connecticut to head-quarters, 
this venerable man was attacked by a paralytic affection, under which he 
languished till the 19th of May, 1790, when his honorable and useful life 
was brought to a final close. The qualities of his mind were sincerity, 
generosity and an invincible sense of duty. The moral virtues and duties 
of piety and pure religion were objects of his serious reflection, and the 
late Rev. Dr. Dwight, in his Travels, has eulogized these as eminent 
traits in his character.

Extract of a Letter from Gen. Washington to Gen. Putnam, dated

"HEAD-QUARTERS, 2d June, 1783.

"DEAR SIR: Your favor of the 20th of May I received with much pleasure. 
For I can assure you that, among the many worthy and meritorious officers 
with whom I have had the happiness to be connected in service through the 
course of this war, and from whose cheerful assistance in the various and 
trying vicissitudes of a complicated contest, the name of Putnam is not 
forgotten; nor will it be, but with that stroke of time which shall 
obliterate from my mind the remembrance of all those toils and fatigues 
through which we have struggled for the preservation and establishment of 
the rights, liberties, and independence of our country. Your 
congratulations on the happy prospect of peace and independent security, 
with their attendant blessings to the United States, I receive with great 
satisfaction; and beg you will accept a return of my congratulations to 
you, on this auspicious event - an event in which, great as it is in 
itself, and glorious as it will probably be in its consequences, you have 
a right to participate largely, from the distinguished part you have 
contributed towards its attainment. I anticipate with pleasure the day, 
and I trust not far off, when I shall quit the busy scenes of military 
employment, and retire to the more tranquil walks of domestic life. In 
that, or whatever other situation Providence may dispose of my future 
days, the remembrance of the many friendships and connexions I have had 
the happiness to contract with the gentlemen of the army, will be one of 
my most grateful reflections.

"Under this contemplation, and impressed with the sentiments of 
benevolence and regard, I commend you, my dear Sir, my other friends, and, 
with them, the interests and happiness of our dear country, to the keeping 
and protection of Almighty God.

"I have the honor to be, &c., &c.
"GEORGE WASHINGTON.
"To the Hon. Major-General Putnam."

The following eulogium was pronounced at the grave of General Putnam by 
Dr. A. Waldo:

"Those venerable relics! once delighted in the endearing domestic virtues 
which constitute the excellent neighbor-husband-parent-and worthy brother! 
liberal and substantial in his friendship; - unsuspicious - open - and 
generous; just and sincere in dealing; a benevolent citizen of the world - 
he concentrated in his bosom the noble qualities of an Honest Man.

"Born a Hero -whom nature taught and cherished in the lap of innumerable 
toils and dangers, he was terrible in battle! But, from the amiableness of 
his heart - when carnage ceased, his humanity spread over the field, like 
the refreshing zephyrs of a summer's evening! The prisoner - the wounded - 
the sick - the forlorn - experienced the delicate sympathy of this 
Soldier's Pillar. The poor and the needy of every description, received 
the charitable bounties of this Christian Soldier.

"He pitied littleness - loved goodness - admired, greatness, and ever 
aspired to its glorious summit! The friend, the servant, and almost 
unparalleled lover of his country; - worn with honorable age, and the 
former toils of war - Putnam rests from his labors!

"'Till mouldering worlds and trembling systems burst!
When the last trump shall renovate his dust - 
Still by the mandate of eternal truth,
His soul will flourish in immortal youth!'

"This all who knew him, know; this all who loved him tell."

Dr. Dwight penned a very excellent inscription, which is engraved on his 
tomb, but our narrow limits must apologize for its omission in this place.


MAJOR-GENERAL WILLIAM HEATH.

MAJOR-GENERAL WILLIAM HEATH was a native of Roxbury, Massachusetts, and 
was from his youth a cultivator of the soil, which was his favorite 
pursuit. He was not conversant with general literature; but, being 
particularly attached to the study of military tactics, he acquired a 
knowledge of modern warfare in its various branches and duties.

At an early period of the opposition of, the colonies to the unjust and 
oppressive measures of the British ministry, he was an active militia 
officer, and assiduously engaged in organizing and disciplining the 
companies of militia and minute-men. In the year 1775, being ranked among 
the patriots and advocates for liberty, he was by the Provincial Congress 
commissioned as a brigadier-general.

During the siege of Boston, be was in commission as a general officer, but 
on no occasion distinguished for enterprise or important services. When 
General Washington contemplated an attack on Boston, General Heath was 
offered the command of a division, but he declined the hazardous service. 
In August, 1776, he was by Congress promoted to the rank of major-general 
in the continental army, and in the campaign of that year he commanded a 
division near the enemy's lines at King's-bridge and Morrisania. During 
the year 1777, and till November, 1778, he was the commanding officer of 
the Eastern department, and his head-quarters were at Boston. Here 
devolved on him the very arduous duties of superintendent of the 
convention troops, captured with General Burgoyne at Saratoga, which were 
quartered at Cambridge. This station required a character of uncommon 
firmness and decision, and had General Heath been destitute of these 
qualities, he would have been subjected to the grossest impositions and 
indignities, from the haughty Generals Burgoyne and Phillips, and the 
perverse temper of their soldiery. These officers, lofty in spirit, and of 
high rank and character, now chagrined by a state of captivity, occasioned 
to General Heath a series of difficulties and vexations. He soon, however, 
convinced them that he was neither deficient in spirit nor ignorant of his 
duty as a military commander. In all his proceedings with these turbulent 
captives, he supported the authority of Congress and the honor and dignity 
of the command reposed in him; and he received the entire approbation of 
that honorable body, to whom he was amenable for his conduct. In the most 
interesting and critical circumstances in which a general could possibly 
be placed, he uniformly exhibited a prudence, animation; decision, and 
firmness which have done him honor, and fully justified the confidence 
reposed in him.

The cordial and most explicit approbation of the army, the inhabitants of 
this town, the army and navy of our illustrious ally, the government of 
this state, his excellency the commander-in-chief, and of Congress, added 
to the consciousness of his having discharged his trust with fidelity, 
must in a great measure have alleviated the fatigues incident to his 
arduous station, and compensated the loss of his health, so much impaired 
by an incessant attention to business (Continental Journal, printed at 
Boston, November 12th, 1778.) In June, 1779, General Heath was elected by 
Congress a commissioner of the Board of War, with a salary of four 
thousand dollars per annum, and allowed to retain his rank in the army, 
which he declined, preferring to participate in active operations in the 
field.

In the summer of 1780, he was directed by the commander-in-chief to repair 
to Rhode Island, to make arrangements for the reception of the French 
fleet and army, which were expected soon to arrive. In his interview with 
the Count Rochambeau and other officers of the French army and navy, he 
proffered his friendly civilities, and contributed all in his power to 
their comfortable accommodation, which was productive of a mutual and 
lasting friendship between them. Indefatigable attention to duty in the 
various stations assigned him was a prominent trait in his character. In 
May, 1781, General Heath was directed by the commander-in-chief to repair 
to the New England states, to represent to their respective executives the 
distressing condition of our army, and. to solicit a speedy supply of 
provisions and clothing, in which he was successful. As senior major-
general, he was more than once commander of the right wing of our army, 
and during the absence of the commander-in-chief, at the siege of 
Yorktown, he was intrusted with the command of the main army, posted at 
the highlands and vicinity, to guard the important works on the Hudson. On 
the 24th of June, 1784, hostilities having ceased between the two armies, 
General Washington addressed a letter to General Heath, expressing his 
thanks for his meritorious services, and his real affection and esteem, 
and on the same day they took their final leave.

General Heath was corpulent and bald-headed, which occasioned some of the 
French officers to observe that he resembled the Marquis of Granby, and he 
appeared, always pleased with the comparison. As an officer of parade and 
discipline, he was respectable; but for valorous achievements, we look in 
vain for his laurels. Had it been his destiny, however, to encounter the 
peril of a conflict in the field of blood, no one can say with what 
adroitness he would have played the hero.

Immediately after the close of the war, General Heath was called again 
into public service in civil life, and continued to hold a seat, either in 
the legislature or in the council of Massachusetts, till the county of 
Norfolk was established, in 1793, when he was appointed by Governor 
Hancock judge of probate and a justice of the court of common pleas; the 
latter office he did not accept; in the former he continued till his 
death. He was also a member of the state convention which ratified the 
federal constitution. All these offices he discharged with assiduity, 
affability and impartiality, and to the general satisfaction of his fellow 
citizens.

He had formed his opinion of human nature on the most favorable examples, 
and to the close of life had a strong regard to popular opinion. He 
repeatedly allowed himself to be held up and voted for, for the office of 
governor and lieutenant-governor of the commonwealth, and at one period 
had, no doubt, a willingness and desire to hold one of these offices. In 
1806 he was elected lieutenant-governor. His refusal of the office was 
matter of surprise to many, and was by some imputed to an unwillingness to 
serve with Governor Strong; while it was well known to those most intimate 
with him to be owing to his disapprobation of the conduct of the 
legislature of that year, in their memorable, attempt to defeat the voice 
of the people, by setting aside Governor Strong's election.

He was, more than once an elector of president and vice-president of the 
United States, and gave his vote to those who undertook to appropriate to 
themselves the name republican till the election, preceding his death, 
when he withheld his vote from Mr. Madison, on account of his recommending 
the declaration of war in 1812, and sanctioning the measures which 
preceded and followed this event, and which caused the general wholly to 
withdraw his confidence from that administration.

Such was General Heath's public life. His private one was retired and 
domestic, amiable, orderly, and industrious but not remarkable for 
hospitality, or a liberal appropriation of property to public purposes. He 
died at Roxbury, January 24th, 1814, aged seventy-seven years.


MAJOR-GENERAL BENJAMIN LINCOLN.

GENERAL LINCOLN deserves a high rank in the fraternity of American heroes. 
He was born in Hingham, Massachusetts, January 23d, (O. S.) 1733. His 
early education was not auspicious to his future eminence, and his 
vocation was that of a farmer, till be was more than forty years of age, 
though he was commissioned as a magistrate, and elected a representative 
in the state legislature. In the year 1776, he sustained the office of 
lieutenant-colonel of militia, and having espoused the cause of his 
country as a firm and determined whig, he was elected a member of the 
Provincial Congress, and one of the secretaries of that body, and also a 
member of the committee of correspondence. In 1776 he was appointed by the 
council of Massachusetts a brigadier, and soon after a major-general, and 
he applied himself assiduously to training and preparing the militia for 
actual service in the field, in which he dislayed the military talent 
which he possessed. In October, he marched with a body of militia, and 
joined the main army at New York. The commander-in-chief, from a knowledge 
of his character and merit, recommended him to Congress as an excellent 
officer, and in February, 1777, be was by that honorable body created a 
major-general on the continental establishment. For several months he 
commanded a division, or detachments in the main army, under Washington, 
and was in situations which required the exercise of the utmost vigilance 
and caution, as well as firmness and courage. Having the command of about 
five hundred men in an exposed situation near Bound Brook, through the 
neglect of his patroles, a large body of the enemy approached within two 
hundred yards of his quarters undiscovered; the general had scarcely time 
to mount and leave the house before it was surrounded. He led off his 
troops, however, in the face of the enemy, and made good his retreat, 
though with the loss of about sixty men, killed and wounded. One of his 
aids with the general's baggage and papers fell into the hands of the 
enemy, as did also three small pieces of artillery. In July, 1777, General 
Washington selected him to join the northern army, under the command of 
General Gates, to oppose the advance of General Burgoyne. He took his 
station at Manchester, in Vermont, to receive and form the New England 
militia, as they arrived, and to order their march to the rear of the 
British army. He detached Colonel Brown with five hundred men on the 13th 
of September to the landing at Lake George, where he succeeded in 
surprising the enemy, and took possession of two hundred batteaux, 
liberated one hundred American prisoners, and captured two hundred and 
ninety-three of the enemy, with the loss of only three killed and five 
wounded. This enterprise was of the highest importance, and contributed 
essentially to the glorious event which followed. Having detached two 
other parties to the enemy's posts at Mount Independence and 
Skenesborough, General Lincoln united his remaining force with the army 
under General Gates, and was the second in command. During the sanguinary 
conflict on the 7th of October, General Lincoln commanded within our 
lines, and at one o'clock the next morning be marched with his division to 
relieve the troops that had been engaged, and to occupy the battle-ground, 
the enemy having retreated. While on this duty he had occasion to ride 
forward some distance, to reconnoitre, and to order some disposition of 
his own troops, when a party of the enemy made an unexpected movement, and 
he approached within musket-shot before he was aware of his mistake. A 
whole volley of musketry was instantly discharged at him and his aids, and 
he received a wound by which the bones of his leg were badly fractured, 
and be was obliged to be carried off the field. The wound was a formidable 
one, and the loss of his limb was for some time apprehended. He was for 
several months confined at Albany, and it became necessary to remove a 
considerable portion of the main bone before be was conveyed to his house 
at Hingham; and under this painful surgical operation, the writer of this 
being present, witnessed in him a degree of firmness and patience not to 
be exceeded. I have known him, says Colonel Rice, who was a member of his 
military family, during the most painful operation by the surgeon, while 
bystanders were frequently obliged to leave the room, entertain us with 
some pleasant anecdote, or story, and draw forth a smile from his friends. 
His wound continued several years in an ulcerated state, and by the loss 
of the bone the limb was shortened, which occasioned lameness during the 
remainder of his life. General Lincoln certainly afforded very important 
assistance in the capture of Burgoyne, though it was his unfortunate lot, 
while in active duty, to be disabled before he could participate in the 
capitulation. Though his recovery was not complete, he repaired to head-
quarters in the following August, and was joyfully received by the 
commander-in-chief, who well knew how to appreciate his merit. It was from 
a development of his estimable character as a man, and his talent as a 
military commander, that he was designated by Congress for the arduous 
duties of the chief command in the southern department, under innumerable 
embarrassments. On his arrival at Charleston, December, 1778, he found 
that he had to form an army, to provide supplies, and to arrange the 
various departments, that he might be able to cope with an enemy 
consisting of experienced officers and veteran troops. This, it is 
obvious, required a man of superior powers, indefatigable perseverance, 
and unconquerable energy. Had not these been his inherent qualities, 
Lincoln must have yielded to the formidable obstacles which opposed his 
progress. About the 28th of December, General Prevost arrived with a fleet 
and about three thousand British troops, and took possession of Savannah, 
after routing a small party of Americans, under General Robert Howe. 
General Lincoln immediately put his troops in motion, and took post on the 
eastern side of the river, about twenty miles from the city; but he was 
not in force to commence offensive operations till the last of February.

In April, with the view of covering the upper part of Georgia, he marched 
to Augusta; after which Prevost, the British commander , crossed the river 
into Carolina, and marched for Charleston. General Lincoln, therefore, 
recrossed the Savannah, and followed his route, and on his arrival near 
the city, the enemy had retired from before it during the previous night. 
A detachment of the enemy, supposed to be about six hundred men, under 
Lieutenant Colonel Maitland, being posted at Stone-Ferry, where they had 
erected works for their defence, General Lincoln resolved to attack them, 
which be did on the 19th of June. The contest lasted one hour and twenty 
minutes, in which he lost one hundred and sixty men killed and wounded, 
and the enemy suffered about an equal loss. Their works were found to be 
much stronger than bad been represented, and our artillery proving too 
light to annoy them, and the enemy receiving a reinforcement, our troops 
were obliged to retire.

The next event of importance which occurred with our general was the bold 
assault on Savannah, in conjunction with the Count D'Estaing. General 
Prevost had again possessed himself of that city, and Count D'Estaing 
arrived with his fleet and armament in the beginning of September, 1779. 
Having landed nearly three thousand French troops, General Lincoln 
immediately united about one thousand men to his force. The prospect of 
success was highly flattering, but the enemy exerted all their efforts in 
strengthening their lines, and after the count had summoned the garrison, 
and while Prevost was about to arrange articles of capitulation, be 
received a reinforcement. It was now resolved to attempt the place by a 
regular siege, but various causes occasioned a delay of several days, and 
when it commenced, the cannonade and bombardment failed of producing the 
desired effect, and the short time allowed the count on our coast, was 
quite insufficient for reducing the garrison by regular approaches. The 
commanders concluded, therefore, to make an effort on the works by 
assault. On the 9th of October, in the morning, the. troops were led on by 
D'Estaing and Lincoln, united, while a column led by Count Dillon missed 
their route in the darkness, and failed of the intended cooperation. 
Amidst a most appalling fire of the covered enemy, the allied troops 
forced the abatis, and planted two standards on the parapets. But being 
overpowered at the point of attack, they were compelled to retire; the 
French having seven hundred, the Americans two hundred and forty killed 
and wounded. The Count Pulaski, at the head of a body of our horse, was 
mortally wounded. General Lincoln next repaired to Charleston, and 
endeavored to put that city in a posture of defence, urgently requesting 
of Congress a reinforcement of regular troops, and additional supplies, 
which were but partially complied with. In February, 1780, General Sir 
Henry Clinton arrived, and landed a formidable force in the vicinity; and 
on the 10th of March encamped in front of the American lines at 
Charleston. Considering the vast superiority of the enemy, both in sea and 
land forces, it might be questioned whether prudence and correct judgment 
would dictate an attempt to defend the city; it will not be supposed, 
however, that the determination was formed without the most mature 
deliberation, and for reasons perfectly justifiable. It is well known that 
the general was in continual expectation of an augmentation of strength by 
reinforcements. On the 10th of April, the enemy having made some advances, 
summoned the garrison to an unconditional surrender, which was promptly 
refused. A heavy and incessant cannonade was sustained on each side, till 
the 11th of May, when the besiegers had completed their third parallel 
line, and having made a second demand of surrender, a capitulation was 
agreed on.

"Having received," says the general, "an address from the principal 
inhabitants, and from a number of the country militia, desiring that I 
would accept the terms; and a request from the lieutenant-governor and 
council, that the negotiation might be renewed; the militia of the town
having thrown down their arms; our provisions, saving a little rice, being 
exhausted; the troops on the line being worn down by fatigue, having for a 
number of days been obliged to lay on the banquette; our harbor closely 
blocked up; completely invested by land by nine thousand men at least, the 
flower of the British army, besides the large force they could at all 
times draw from the marine, and aided by a great number of blacks in their 
laborious employments; the garrison at this time, exclusive of sailors, 
but little exceeding two thousand five hundred men, part of whom had 
thrown down their arms; the citizens in general discontented, the enemy 
being within twenty yards of our lines, and preparing to make a general 
assault by sea and land; many of our cannon dismounted, and others 
silenced for want of shot; a retreat being judged impracticable, and every 
hope of timely succor cut off, we were induced to offer and accede to the 
terms executed on the 12th of May." It is to be lamented that, with all 
the judicious and vigorous efforts in his power, General Lincoln was 
requited only by the frowns of fortune, whereas had he been successful in 
his bold enterprise and views, he would have been crowned with unfading 
laurels. But notwithstanding a series of disappointments and unfortunate 
occurrences, he was censured by no one, nor was his judgment or merit 
called in question. He retained his popularity, and the confidence of the 
army, and was considered as a most zealous patriot, and the bravest of 
soldiers. "The motives and feelings that prompted General Lincoln rather 
to risk a siege than to evacuate Charleston were most honorable, to him as 
a man and a soldier. There was such a balance of reasons on the question, 
as under the existing circumstances should exempt his decision from blame 
or distrust. He could not calculate on the despondence and inactivity of 
the people who should come to his succor. The suspense and anxiety, the 
toil and hazard attending the siege, gave the fullest scope to his wisdom, 
patience and valor. His exertions were incessant. He was on the lines 
night and day, and for the last fortnight never undressed to sleep (Notice 
of General Lincoln in the Collection of the Historical Society, Vol. 3d, 
second series, from which I have made other extracts.) Notwithstanding 
this unfortunate termination of his command, so established was the 
spotless reputation of the vanquished general, that he continued to enjoy 
the undiminished respect and confidence of the Congress, the army, and the 
commander-in-chief (Lee's Memoirs of the War in the Southern Department.) 
"Great praise is due to General Lincoln," says Dr. Ramsay, "for his 
judicious and spirited conduct in baffling for three months the greatly 
superior force of Sir Henry Clinton and Admiral Arburthnot. Though 
Charleston and the Southern army were lost, yet, by their long-protracted 
defence, the British plans were not only retarded but deranged, and North 
Carolina was saved for the remainder of the year 1780."

General Lincoln was admitted to his parole, and in November following be 
was exchanged for Major-General Phillips, a prisoner of the convention of 
Saratoga. In the campaign of 1781, General Lincoln commanded a division 
under Washington, and at the siege of Yorktown he had his full share of 
the honor of that brilliant and auspicious event. The articles of 
capitulation stipulated for the same honor in favor of the surrendering 
army, as had been granted to the garrison of Charleston. General Lincoln 
was appointed to conduct them to the field where their arms were 
deposited, and received the customary submission. In the general order of 
the commander-in-chief the day after the capitulation, General Lincoln was 
among the general officers whose services were particularly mentioned. In 
October, 1781, he was chosen by Congress secretary at war, retaining his 
rank in the army. In this office he continued till October, 1783, when his 
proffered resignation was accepted by Congress as follows:

"Resolved, That the resignation of Major-General Lincoln, as secretary of 
war for the United States, be accepted in consideration of the earnest 
desire which he expresses, the objects of the war being so happily 
accomplished, to retire to private life, and that he be informed that the 
United States in Congress assembled entertain a high sense of his 
perseverance, fortitude, activity and meritorious services in the field, 
as well as of his diligence, fidelity and capacity in the execution of the 
office of secretary at war, which important trust he has discharged to 
their entire approbation."

Having relinquished the duties and cares of a public employment, he 
retired, and devoted his attention to his farm; but in 1784, he was chosen 
one of the commissioners and agents on the part of the state to make and 
execute a treaty with the Penobscot Indians. When in the year 1786-7, the 
authority of our state government was in a manner prostrated, and the 
country alarmed by a most audacious spirit of insurrection, under the 
guidance of Shays and Day, General Lincoln was appointed by the governor 
and council to command a detachment of militia, consisting of four or five 
thousand men, to oppose their progress, and compel them to a submission to 
the laws. He marched from Boston on the 20th of January, into the counties 
of Worcester, Hampshire, and Berkshire, where the insurgents had erected 
their standard. They were embodied in considerable force, and manifested a 
determined resistance, and a slight skirmish ensued between them and a 
party of militia under General Shepherd. Lincoln, however, conducted with 
such address and energy, that the insurgents were routed from one town to 
another, till they were completely dispersed in all directions; and by his 
wise and prudent measures the insurrection was happily suppressed without 
bloodshed, excepting a few individuals who were slain under General 
Shepherd's command. At the May election, 1787, General Lincoln was elected 
lieutenant-governor by the legislature, having had a plurality of votes by 
the people. He was a member of the convention for ratifying the federal 
constitution, and in the summer of 1789, he received from President 
Washington the appointment of collector of the port of Boston, which 
office he sustained till, being admonished by the increasing infirmities 
of age, he requested permission to resign, about two years before his 
death. In 1789, he was appointed one of the commissioners to treat with 
the Creek Indians on the frontiers of the Southern states, and in 1793 he 
was one of the commissioners to effect a peace with the Western Indians. 
The subject of this memoir received from the University of Cambridge the 
honorary degree of Master of Arts. He was one of the first members of the 
American Academy of Arts and Sciences, and a member of the Massachusetts 
Historical Society, and he contributed by his pen to the stock of useful 
materials for their respective publications. Having, after his resignation 
of the office of collector, passed about two years in retirement and in 
tranquillity of mind, but experiencing the feebleness of age, he received 
a short attack of disease, by which his honorable life was terminated on 
the 9th of May, 1810, aged 77 years. The following tribute is on the 
records of the society of Cincinnati:

"At the annual meeting in July, 1810, Major-General John Brooks was chosen 
president of the society, to supply the place of our venerable and much-
lamented president, General Benjamin Lincoln, who had presided over the 
society from the organization thereof, in 1783, to the 9th of May, 1810, 
the day of his decease, with the entire approbation of every member, and 
the grateful tribute of his surviving comrades, for his happy guidance and 
affectionate attentions during so long a period."

General Lincoln in his very nature was unsusceptible of the spirit of 
envy. Whoever achieved a noble action to the honor and advantage of his 
country, whether as a patriot or soldier, was with him the man of merit 
and the theme of eulogy, though it might eclipse his own fame. He was 
universally respected as one of the best of men, of ardent patriotism, and 
of heroic courage. Major-General Knox, whose candor and discriminating 
judgment no one will deny, was known to estimate next to Washington in 
military talents, Generals Greene and Lincoln. Colonel Nathan Rice, a 
respectable officer, who was a member of his military family, observes, 
that the sacrifice of as much domestic happiness as falls to the lot of 
men, to serve his country, would seem to place his patriotism beyond 
suspicion. The firmness and zeal with which he rendered this service 
during her struggle, the coolness with which he met danger, his fortitude 
under bodily pain, privation and disappointments, and the confidence 
reposed in him by the commander-in-chief, all strongly evince that his 
country had not misjudged in elevating him to the distinguished rank he 
held in the army. While at Purysburgh, on the Savannah river, a soldier 
named Fickling, having been detected in frequent attempts to desert, was 
tried and sentenced to be hanged. The general ordered the execution. The 
rope broke; a second was procured, which broke also; the case was reported 
to the general for directions. "Let him run," said the general, "I thougbt 
he looked like a scape-gallows."

Major Garden, in his Anecdotes of the American Revolution, relates this 
story with some addition. It happened that as Fickling was led to 
execution, the surgeon-general of the army passed accidentally on his way 
to his quarters, which were at some distance. When the Second rope was 
procured, the adjutant of the regiment, a stout and heavy man, assayed by 
every means to break it, but without effect. Fickling was then haltered 
and again turned off, when, to the astonishment of the bystanders, the 
rope untwisted, and he fell a second time uninjured to the ground. A cry 
for mercy was now general throughout the ranks, which occasioned Major 
Ladson, aid-de-camp to General Lincoln, to gallop to head-quarters to make 
a representation of facts, which were no sooner stated than an immediate 
pardon was granted, accompanied with an order that he should 
instantaneously be drummed, with every mark of infamy, out of camp, and 
threatened with instant death if he ever should be found attempting to 
approach it. In the interim, the surgeon-general had established himself 
at his quarters in a distant barn, little doubting but that the 
catastrophe was at an end, and Fickling quietly resting in his grave. 
Midnight was at hand, and he was busily engaged in writing, when, hearing 
the approach of a footstep, he raised his eyes, and saw with astonishment 
the figure of the man who had in his opinion been executed, slowly and 
with haggard countenance approaching towards him. "How! how is this?" 
exclaimed the doctor; "whence come you? what do you want with me? were you 
not hanged this morning." "Yes, sir," replied the resuscitated man; "I am 
the wretch you saw going to the gallows, and who was hanged." "Keep your 
distance," said the doctor; "approach me not till you say why you come 
here." "Simply, sir," said the supposed spectre, "to solicit food. I am no 
ghost, doctor. The rope broke twice while the executioner was doing his 
office, and the general thought proper to pardon me." "If that be the
case," rejoined the doctor, "eat and be welcome; but I beg of you in 
future to have a little more consideration, and not intrude so 
unceremoniously into the apartment of one who had every right to suppose 
you an inhabitant of the tomb."

Regularity both in business and his mode of living were peculiar traits in 
his character; habitually temperate, and accustomed to sleep unconfined to 
time or place. In conversation he was always correct and chaste; on no 
occasion uttering any thing like profanity or levity on serious subjects, 
and when others have indulged in these respects in his presence, it was 
ever received by him with such marked disapprobation of countenance, as to 
draw from them an instantaneous apology, and regret for the offence. 
Having, while collector, appointed a violent party-man to a place of 
profit merely from motives of benevolence, he had frequently, with many 
others, abused the general, calling him "a damned old rascal." On the 
first opportunity, the general said to him, "So Mr. ******, you say I am a 
damned old rascal; you might have spared the damned," without adding a 
word more; but it was expressed in a manner that prevented a reply; nor 
did he remove him from office. In the various characters of parent, 
husband and master, I ever held him up, says Colonel Rice, as a model of 
perfection. The law of kindness ever dwelt on his tongue.

This memoir will be concluded by some brief extracts from the Historical 
Collections:

"In General Lincoln's character, strength and softness, the estimable and 
amiable qualities, were happily blended. His mind was quick and active, 
yet discriminating and sound. He displayed a fund of thought and 
information, derived from select though limited reading, from careful 
observation of men and things, from habits of thinking, and from 
conversation. A degree of enthusiasm or exultation of feeling on the 
objects of his pursuit belonged to his temperament, but it was under the 
control of good sense and sober views. He was patient and cool in 
deliberation; in execution, prompt and vigorous. He was conspicuous for 
plain, strict, inflexible integrity, united, however, with prudence, 
candor, and a compassionate disposition. As a military commander, he was 
judicious, brave, determined, indefatigable. His distinguished merit in 
this character was never denied, while all have not agreed in opinion on 
some of his plans in the southern command. Being a soldier of the 
revolution, he had to anticipate the effect of experience, and might 
commit mistakes. He was surrounded by difficulties; he met extraordinary 
disappointments in his calculations of supplies and succors. In the 
principal instances which issued unfortunately, the storming of Savannah 
and the siege of Charleston, he had but a choice of evils; and whichever 
way he decided, the course rejected would have seemed to many persons more 
eligible. General Lincoln was a federalist of the Washington school. He 
experienced the benefit of his weight of character and the sense 
entertained by the community of his public services, in being suffered to 
retain his office of collector.

"Religion exerted its full influence over the mind and conduct of General 
Lincoln. He was a Christian of the Anti-sectarian, Catholic, or liberal 
sect. He was firm in his faith, serious and affectionate in his piety, 
without superstition, fanaticism or austerity. He was from early manhood a 
communicant, and for a great part of his life a deacon of the church. He 
never shunned an avowal of his belief, nor feared to appear what he was, 
nor permitted the reality of his convictions to remain in doubt. The 
person and air of General Lincoln betokened his military vocation. He was 
of middle height and erect, broad-chested and muscular, in his latter 
years corpulent, with open intelligent features, a venerable and benign 
aspect. His manners were easy and unaffected, but courteous and polite."

In all his transactions, both public and private, his mind was elevated 
above all sordid or sinister views, and our history will not perhaps 
record many names more estimable than was that of General Lincoln.


FREDERICK WILLIAM AUGUSTUS BARON DE STEUBEN,

Knight of the Order of Fidelity in Germany, and Major-General in the Army 
of the United States.

THIS highly distinguished personage was a Prussian officer, aid-de-camp to 
the great Frederick, and held the rank of lieutenant-general in the army 
of that consummate commander. He arrived in America December, 1777, and 
presented himself with his credentials to Congress, proffering his 
services in our army without any claim to rank, and requested permission 
only to render such assistance as might be in his power, in the character 
of a volunteer. In thus devoting himself to our cause, be made an immense 
sacrifice, by relinquishing his honorable station and emoluments in 
Europe. Congress voted him their thanks, for his zeal and the 
disinterested tender of his services, and he joined the main army under 
General Washington at Valley Forge. His qualifications for a teacher of 
the system of military tactics were soon manifested; having for many years 
practised on the system which the king of Prussia had introduced into his 
own army. In May, 1778, by the strong recommendation of the commander-in-
chief, Congress appointed him inspector-general with the rank of major-
general. He commenced his duties as inspector, beginning with the 
officers, who were formed into separate bodies, frequently exercised and 
instructed in the various movements and evolutions, when manoeuvring 
battalions, brigades, or divisions of the army. He exerted all his powers 
for the establishment of a regular system of discipline, economy, and 
uniformity among our heterogeneous bodies of soldiers. In the discharge of 
this duty, and to effect his favorite object, he encountered obstacles to 
which a less zealous spirit would have yielded as insurmountable. By his 
superior talents, indefatigable industry, and perseverance, he rendered a 
service to our army, without which it could not have attained to a 
condition capable of achieving honor and glory in the face of European 
veteran troops.. Charmed with the neat and soldierly appearance of those 
who had profited by his instructions and duly improved in the art of 
discipline, and equally detesting the soldier whose awkward and unmilitary 
conduct betrayed his negligence, there never was a review but the baron 
rewarded the one with more than praise, and censured the other, whether 
officer or soldier, with a severity equal to his deserts. While reviewing 
our regiment, he noticed in the ranks a very spruce young lad, handsomely 
formed, standing erect, with the air of a genteel soldier, his gun and 
equipments in perfect order. The baron, struck with his military 
appearance, patted him under his chin to elevate his head still more 
erect, viewed him with a smile, and said, "How long have you been a 
soldier? You are one pretty soldier in miniature. How old are you?" 
"Seventeen, sir." "Have you got a wife?" Then calling to the colonel, 
said, "Colonel Jackson, this is one fine soldier in miniature."

The baron composed a complete system of exercise and discipline, which was 
approved by the commander-in-chief, and ordered by Congress to be 
published and adopted in our army. Colonel William North and Colonel 
Walker were aids-de-camp and members of his family, between whom there 
existed a mutual attachment and affection, pure as parent and sons.

Colonel North at an early age volunteered his services in the bold and 
perilous enterprise undertaken by General Arnold in the autumn of 1775, to 
penetrate to Canada through the unexplored wilderness from Kennebec, and 
was among the miserable sufferers who apprehended the horrors of death in 
the wilderness. When Colonel Henry Jackson raised his regiment in the 
state of Massachusetts, this gentleman was commissioned as commander of a 
company in this regiment, in which he served with honor till he was 
appointed aid-de-camp to Baron Steuben. By the amiable qualities of his 
heart, his ingratiating and gentlemanly manners, he won the affection of 
the baron, by whom he was treated with the favor of an adopted son. After 
the close of the war he was appointed major-general of militia in the 
state of New York, and he has recently transferred his residence to New 
London, in Connecticut. It is chiefly by the aid of his pen that I am 
enabled to furnish this tribute to the memory of his justly-celebrated 
patron.

The baron was distinguished for his adherence to the principles of 
political integrity and moral virtue. His heart was replete with generous 
sentiments and the purest benevolence.

After General Arnold treacherously deserted his post at West Point, the 
baron never failed to manifest his indignation and abhorrence of his name 
and character, and while inspecting Colonel Sheldon's regiment of light-
horse, the name of Arnold struck his ear. The soldier was ordered to the 
front: he was a fine looking fellow; his horse and equipments in excellent 
order. "Change your name, brother-soldier; you are too respectable to bear 
the name of a traitor." "What name shall I take, general?" "Take any other 
name; mine is at your service." Most cheerfully was the offer accepted, 
and his name was entered on the roll as Steuben. He or his children now 
enjoy land given to him in the town of Steuben by the baron. This brave 
soldier met him after the war. "I am well settled, general," said he, "and 
have a wife and son; I have called my son after you, sir." "I thank you, 
my friend. What name have you given the boy?" "I called him Baron what 
else could I call him?"

The baron's office as inspector did not preclude him the privilege of 
command in the line according to his rank, and at one period he was 
commander of a separate detachment in Virginia, to oppose the ravages of 
the enemy in that quarter. It was with great difficulty that men could be 
procured for the service; every man was considered as an acquisition. The 
baron was too honest to suffer, an imposition to be practised on the 
public. A regiment had been collected, and was paraded on the point of 
marching, when a well-looking man on horseback, and as it appeared his 
servant on another, rode up and informed the baron that be had brought him 
a recruit. "I thank you, sir," said the baron, "with all my heart; you 
have arrived in a happy moment. Where is your man, colonel?" - for he was 
colonel in the militia. "Here, sir" ordering his boy to dismount. The 
baron's countenance changed; his aids saw and feared the approaching 
storm. A sergeant was ordered to measure the lad, whose shoes when off 
discovered something by which his stature had been increased. The baron, 
patting the child's head with his hand, trembling with rage, asked him how 
old he was? He was very young - quite a child. "Sir," said he to the 
militia colonel, "you must have supposed me to be a rascal." "Oh! no, 
baron, I did not," "Then, sir, I suppose you to be a rascal, an infamous 
rascal, thus to attempt to cheat your country. Sergeant, take off this 
fellow's spurs, and place him in the ranks, that we may have a man able to 
serve, instead of an infant whom he would basely have made his substitute! 
Go, my boy; take the colonel's spurs and horse to his wife; make my 
compliments, and say, her husband has gone to fight for the freedom of his 
country, as an honest man should do!" And instantly ordered, "Platoons! to 
the right, wheel! forward march!" Colonel Gaskins, who commanded the 
regiment, fearing the consequences, after marching some distance, allowed 
the man to escape, who immediately made application to the civil authority 
for redress; but Governor Jefferson, Mr. Madison, and others, not doubting 
the purity of the baron's motive, and fully appreciating his honest zeal, 
prevented any disagreeable results attending this high-handed exertion of 
military power. At the siege of Yorktown the baron was in the trenches at 
the head of his division, and received the first overture of Lord 
Cornwallis to capitulate. At the relieving hour next morning, the Marquis 
de La Fayette approached at the head of his division, to relieve him. The 
baron refused to quit the trenches, assigning as a reason the etiquette in 
Europe, that the offer to capitulate had been made during his tour of 
duty, and that it was a point of honor of which he would not deprive his 
troops to remain in the trenches till the capitulation was signed or 
hostilities recommenced. The dispute was referred to the commander-in-
chief, and the baron was permitted to remain till the British flag was 
struck. While on this duty the baron, perceiving himself in danger from a 
shell thrown from the enemy, threw himself suddenly into the trench; 
General Wayne, in the jeopardy and hurry of themoment, fell on him; the 
baron, turning his eyes, saw it was his brigadier. "I always knew you were 
brave, general," said he; "but I did not know you were so perfect in every 
point of duty: you cover your general's retreat in the best manner 
possible."

"I have great delight," says Major Garden, "in relating an anecdote which 
I received from General Walter Stewart; the truth of which may be relied 
on." After the capture of Yorktown, the superior officers of the allied 
army vied with each other in acts of civility and attention to the captive 
Britons. Lord Cornwallis and his family were particularly distinguished. 
Entertainments were given in succession by all the major-generals, with 
the exception of Baron Steuben. He alone withheld an invitation, not from 
a wish to be particular, nor that his heart was closed to the attentions 
due to misfortunes. His soul was superior to prejudice; and, as a soldier, 
he tenderly sympathized in their fate, while poverty denied the means of 
displaying that liberality towards them which had been shown by others. 
Such was his situation when, calling on Colonel Stewart, and informing him 
of his intention to entertain the British commander-in-chief, he requested 
that he would advance him a sum of money as the price of his favorite 
charger. "'Tis a good beast," said the baron, "and has proved a faithful 
servant through all the dangers of the war; but, though painful to my 
heart, we must part." Colonel Stewart, to prevent a step that he knew must 
be attended with great loss, and still greater inconvenience, immediately 
tendered his purse, recommending, should the sum it contained prove 
insufficient, the sale or pledge of his watch. "My dear friend," said the 
baron, "tis already sold. Poor North was sick and wanted necessaries. He 
is a brave fellow, and possesses the best of hearts. The trifle it brought 
is set apart for his use. My horse must go; so no more, I beseech you, to 
turn me from my purpose. I am a major-general in the service of the United 
States, and my private convenience must not be put in the scale with the 
duty which my rank calls on me imperiously to perform." A very friendly 
intercourse subsisted between the officers of the French army and those of 
our own, and dining invitations could not always be reciprocated on our 
part for want of the means "I can stand it no longer," said the baron; "we 
are continually dining with these gentlemen,and such is our penury that, 
except at head-quarters, they receive return no invitations in return. 
"Take," said he to one of his people, "take the silver spoons and forks 
and sell them; it is not republican to eat with silver forks and it is the 
part of a gentleman to pay his debts. They shall have one good dinner, if 
I eat my soup with a wooden spoon for ever after."

The baron returned to the northward, and remained with the army, 
continually employed till the peace in perfecting his discipline. The 
adroitness, and, above all, the silence with which his manoeuvres were 
performed, was remarked with astonishment by the officers of the French 
army. The Marquis de la Val de Montmorency, a brigadier-general, said to 
the baron, "I admire the celerity and exactitude with which your men 
perform, but what I cannot conceive is the profound silence with which 
they manoeuvre." "I don't know, Monsieur le Marquis, whence noise should 
proceed, when even my brigadiers dare not open their months but to repeat 
the orders."

The French troops were exceedingly loud in their evolutions and marches, 
and Mons. la Val at all times louder than the rest. On a subsequent 
occasion, designed to show the high degree of expertness at which our 
officers and soldiers had arrived, the ~ baron was asked by one of the 
French generals what manoeuvres he intended to perform. On being informed, 
"Yes," replied the French chief, "I have seen particularly the last you 
mention performed by the Prussians in Silesia, but with a very complex 
addition," which he explained. "But you will recollect, general, that we 
are not quite Prussians." After his guests had retired, the baron said, "I 
will let these Frenchmen know that we can do what the Prussians can, and 
what their army cannot do. I will save those gentlemen who have not been 
in Silesia the trouble of going there; they may come to Verplank's Point 
next week for instruction." They came, chiefs and subalterns, and every 
thing was done in the finest style, to their real or pretended admiration. 
Here General North indulges his honorable feelings in the following 
apostrophe: "Alas! when I think of time past, of that day, and look to 
that eminence on which General Washington's marquee was pitched, in front 
of which stood that great man, firm in the consciousness of virtue, 
surrounded by French nobles and the chiefs of his own army; when I cast my 
eyes, then lighted up with soldierly ambition, hope and joy, along that 
lengthened line, my brothers all! endeared by ties made strong by full 
communion in many a miserable, many a joyous hour, my heart sinks at the 
view! Who, how few of all that brilliant host, is left; these few are 
tottering on the, cofines of the grave! The baron's tent that day was 
filled, and more than filled, with Frenchmen. 'I am glad,' said he, 'to 
pay some part of the dinner debt we owe our allies.'" "On the eve of 
returning to the northward from Virginia," continues General North, "I was 
sick, and unable to accompany the baron: he divided his purse with me, the 
whole contents of which were two half-joes; his watch and silver spoons 
and forks, brought from Germany, were already disposed of. "I must, go,' 
said the baron; 'I must leave you, my son; but I leave you among a people 
where we have found the door of every every house wide open; where the 
heart of every female is full of tenderness and virtue. Quit this 
deleterious spot, the instant you are able; there is my sulkey, and here 
is half of what I have. God bless you! I can no more.' Nor could he: the 
feelings of friends in such a moment, and under such circumstances, may 
possibly be conceived, but not expressed. A journey of three hundred miles 
was before him; a single piece of gold in his purse. Are other instances 
necessary to unfold the texture of his heart? - how many have I written on 
my own! There is, I trust, a book in which they, every one of them, are 
entered, to the credit of his account with Heaven."

General Washington had a high esteem for the baron, and was fully sensible 
of his worth and merits. On all proper occasions Congress were urged in 
his behalf, and from time to time he received of money, good and bad, sums 
which some narrow-minded men thought much too large, though he proved 
satisfactorily that he had given up a salary of five hundred and eighty 
guineas a year in Europe. But what sums - how much - could have been 
enough for one who searched around for worthy, objects, whose wants might 
be relieved? "Never did a review or an inspection pass without rewards in 
money to soldiers whose arms were in the highest order. Never was his 
table unfilled with guests if furnished with provisions. Officers of rank, 
men most prominent for knowledge and attention to their duty, were marked 
for invitation; but the gentlemen of his family were desired to complete 
the list with others of inferior grade. 'Poor fellows,' said he, 'they 
have field officers' stomachs, without their rations."'

The baron was rough as the ocean in a storm when great faults were 
committed; but if, in a sudden gust of passion, he had injured, the 
redress was ample. I recollect that at a review near Morristown, a 
Lieutenant Gibbons, a brave and good officer, was arrested on the spot, 
and ordered into the rear, for a fault which it afterwards appeared 
another had committed. At a proper moment, the commander of the regiment 
came forward, and informed the baron of Mr. Gibbons' innocence, of his 
worth, and of his acute feelings under this unmerited disgrace. "Desire 
Lieutenant Gibbons to come to the front, colonel." "Sir," said the baron, 
to the young gentleman, "the fault which was made, by throwing the line 
into confusion, might, in the presence of an enemy, have been fatal. I 
arrested you as its supposed author, but I have reason to believe that I 
was mistaken, and that in this instance you were blameless; I ask your 
pardon: return to your command; I would not deal unjustly by any, much 
less by one whose character as an officer is so respectable." All this 
passed with the baron's hat off, the rain pouring on his venerable head! - 
Do you think there was an officer, a soldier who saw it, unmoved by 
affection and respect? Not one.

In the company of ladies, the baron always appeared to peculiar advantage. 
At the house of the respectable Mrs. Livingston, mother of the late 
Chancellor, where virtue, talent, and modest worth of every kind met a 
welcome reception, the baron was introduced to a Miss Sheaf, an amiable 
and interesting young lady. "I am very happy," said he, "in the honor of 
being presented to you, mademoiselle, though I see it is at an infinite 
risk; I have from my youth been cautioned to guard myself against 
mischief, but I had no idea that her attractions were so powerful."

Dining at head-quarters with Robert Morris, Esq., and other gentlemen, Mr. 
Morris complained bitterly of the miserable state of the treasury. "Why," 
said the baron, "are you not financier? - why do you not continue to 
create funds?" "I have done all I can; it is not possible for me to do 
more.," "But you remain financier, though without finances?" "Yes." "Well, 
then, I do not-think you are so honest a man as my cook. He came to me one 
day at Valley Forge, and said "Baron, I am your cook, and you have nothing 
to cook but a piece of lean beef, which is hung up by a string before the 
fire. Your negro wagoner can turn the string and do as well as I can. You 
have promised me ten dollars a month; but as you have nothing to cook, I 
wish to be discharged, and not longer be chargeable to you, 'That is an 
honest fellow, Morris."

Though never perfectly master of our language, the baron understood and 
spoke it with sufficient correctness. He would sometimes on purpose 
miscall names, and blend or adopt words similar in sound, dissimilar in 
meaning. Dining, at head-quarters, which he did frequently, Mrs. 
Washington asked what amusement he had recourse to now that the certainty 
of peace had relaxed his labors? "I read, my lady, and write, and chess, 
and yesterday for the first time I went a fishing. My gentlemen told me it 
was a very fine business to catch fish, and I did not know but that this 
new trade might, by and by, be useful to me - but I fear I never can 
succeed - I sat, in the boat three hours, it was exceedingly warm, and I 
caught only two fish; they told me it was fine sport." "What kind of fish 
did you take, baron?" "I am not sure, my lady, but I believe one of them 
was a whale." "A whale, baron, in the North river!" "Yes, I assure you, a 
very fine whale, my lady - it was a whale, was it not?" appealing to one 
of his aids. "An eel, baron." "I beg your pardon, my lady, but that 
gentleman certainly told me it was a whale." General Washington, now that 
his mind was comparatively at ease, enjoyed a pleasantry of this kind 
highly.

For the proper understanding of the following bon mot of General 
Washington, it must he mentioned that at Tatawa falls there was a 
miserable, deformed object who had lain in his cradle for twenty-seven 
years. His head was eighteen inches in length, and the rest of his body 
twenty-seven inches. He received numerous visitors, among whom was his 
excellency, who asked him whether he was a Whig or tory? He answered, as 
he had been taught, that he had never taken an active part on either side. 
"A worthy gentleman and lady came out of New York after the preliminaries 
of peace were signed, to visit their friends, and resided in the 
neighborhood of Baron Steuben by whom the whole party, together with his 
excellency and lady, were invited to dine. 'It is proper,' said the baron, 
'that your excellency should be apprised that Mr.****** and his lady from 
New York are to dine with me, and perhaps, sir, you may not choose to meet 
Mr. ******.' 'Oh, baron,' said the general, laughing, 'there is no 
difficulty on that point. Mr. ****** is very like the big-headed boy at 
Tatawa, he never has taken an active part.' This was allowed to be a most 
adroit coup de sabre by those who knew the gentleman, though it is doubted 
whether, if he had heard it, he would have felt the stroke."

"At the disbandment of the revolutionary army, when inmates of the same 
tent, or hut, for seven long years, were separating, and probably for 
ever; grasping each other's hand, in silent agony, I saw the baron's 
strong endeavors to throw some ray of sunshine on the gloom to mix some 
drop of cordial with the painful draught. To go, they knew not whither; 
all recollection of the art to thrive by civil occupations lost, or to the 
youthful never known. Their hard earned military knowledge worse than 
useless, and with their badge of brotherhood, a mark at which to point the 
finger of suspicion - ignoble, vile suspicion! - to be cast out on a 
world, long since by them forgotten. Severed from friends, and all the 
joys and griefs which soldiers feel! Griefs while hope remained - when 
shared by numbers, almost joys! To go in silence and alone, and poor and 
hopeless; it was too hard! On that sad day, how many hearts were wrung! I 
saw it all, nor will the scene be ever blurred or blotted from my view. To 
a stern old officer, a Lieutenant- Colonel Cochran, from the Green 
Mountains, who had met danger and difficulty almost in every step from his 
youth, and from whose furrowed visage a tear till that moment had never 
fallen; the good baron said - what could be said to lessen deep distress. 
'For myself' said Cochran, 'I care not - I can stand it; but my wife and 
daughters are in the garret of that wretched tavern. I know not where to 
remove, nor have I means for their removal!' 'Come, my friend,' said the 
baron, 'let us go - I will pay my respects to Mrs. Cochran and your 
daughters, if you please.' I followed to the loft, the lower rooms being 
all filled with soldiers, with drunkenness, despair and blasphemy. And 
when the baron left the poor unhappy cast-aways, he left hope with them,
and all he had to give." "A black man, with wounds unhealed, wept on the 
wharf (for it was at Newburgh where this tragedy was acting): there was a 
vessel in the stream, bound to the place where he once had friends. He had 
not a dollar to pay his passage, and he could not walk. Unused to tears, I 
saw them trickle down this good man's cheeks as he put into the hands of 
the black man the last doIlar, he possessed. The negro hailed the sloop, 
and cried, 'God Almighty bless you, master baron!'

"What good and honorable man, civil or military, before the accursed party-
spirit murdered friendships, did not respect and love the baron? Who most? 
Those who knew him best. After the peace, the baron retired to a farm in 
the vicinity of New York, where, with forming a system for the 
organization and discipline of the militia, books, chess, and the frequent 
visits of his numerous friends, he passed his time as agreeably as a 
frequent want of funds would permit. The state of New Jersey had given him 
a small improved farm, and the state of New York gave him a tract of 
sixteen thousand acres of land in the county of Oneida. After the general 
government was in full operation, by the exertions of Colonel Hamilton, 
patronized and enforced by President Washington, a grant of two thousand 
five hundred dollars per annum was made to him for life. The summers were 
now chiefly spent on his land, and his winters in the city. His sixteen 
thousand acres of land were in the uncultivated wilderness; he built a 
convenient log house, cleared sixty acres, parceled out his land on easy 
terms to twenty or thirty tenants, distributed nearly a tenth of the tract 
in gifts to his aids-de-camp and servants, and sat himself down to a 
certain degree contented without society, except that of a young 
gentleman, who read to and with him. He ate only at dinner, but he ate 
with strong appetite. In drinking, he was always temperate; indeed, he was 
free from every vicious habit. His powers of mind and body were strong, 
and he received to a certain extent a liberal education. His days were 
undoubtedly shortened by his sedentary mode of life. He was seized with an 
apoplexy, which in a few hours was fatal. Agreeably to his desire, often 
expressed, he was wrapped in his cloak, placed in a plain coffin, and hid 
in the earth without a stone to tell where he lies. A few neighbors, his 
servants, the young gentleman his late companion, and one on whom for 
fifteen years his countenance never ceased to beam with kindness, followed 
to the grave. It was in a thick, a lonely wood; but, in a few years after, 
a public highway was opened near or over the hallowed sod! Colonel Walker 
snatched the poor remains of his dear friend from sacrilegious violation, 
and gave a bounty to protect the grave in which he laid them from rude and 
impious intrusion. He died in 1795, in the sixty-fifth year of his age.

"Some few years previous to the baron's death, a pious gentleman of the 
city of New York, who had a great affection for him, told me, with strong 
marks of joy, that they had passed the evening and a part of the last 
night together, that the baron confessed his full belief in Jesus Christ, 
with sure and certain hope, through him, of a blessed immortality. 'From 
the life our dear friend has led in camps and in the gay world,' said the 
good man, I feared; and you do not know what joy I feel in the belief that 
he will be well to all eternity!' The baron was a member of the Reformed 
German Church, in New York."

General North, from the impulse of his own affectionate and grateful 
feelings, erected a handsome monument with an appropriate inscription in 
the Reformed German Church in New York to the memory of his illustrious 
patron and friend, and these pages accord with the views of that memorial 
in transmitting to posterity a renowned hero, whose name and invaluable 
labors should never be forgotten.

What remained of the baron's estate, excepting one thousand dollars and 
his library, which he willed to a youth whose father had rendered 
essential service in the war, and whose education he generously charged 
himself with, was bequeathed to his two affectionate aids-de-camp.


MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE, MAJOR-GENERAL

THE name and character of this illustrious French nobleman, will occupy a 
conspicuous place in our revolutionary annals, and be honored by 
posterity, no less for his enthusiastic love of liberty than for his 
heroism and military renown. There is something truly romantic in the 
history of this celebrated personage. In the year 1776, at the immature 
age of nineteen, he espoused the cause of the Americans, and nobly 
resolved to afford our country all possible as I assistance by his 
personal services and influence. At this era the affairs of America Were 
bordering on despair, and were represented in France as so deplorable that 
it might be supposed sufficient to repress the most determined zeal. 
Reports were propagated in that country that our army, reduced to a mere 
rabble, Was flying before an army of thirty thousand regulars, nor was 
this very wide from the reality. In consequence of this, our commissioners 
found it impossible to procure a vessel to convey the marquis and their 
own despatches to Congress; they could not therefore feel justified in 
encouraging his bold contemplated enterprise. This embarrassment, however, 
had the effect of increasing rather than of restraining his youthful ardor 
and heroism. He imparted to the commissioners his determination to 
purchase and fit out a vessel to convey himself and their despatches to 
America. This project was deemed so extraordinary and important, that it 
did not fail to engage universal attention. The French court had not then 
declared even a friendly intention towards America, but, on the contrary, 
was extremely cautious of giving offence to the British government. Orders 
were therefore given prohibiting the departure of this nobleman, and 
vessels were even despatched to the West Indies to intercept him, in case 
he should take that route. The marquis was well apprised that he exposed 
himself to the loss of his fortune by the laws of France; and that, should 
he fall into the hands of the English on his passage, he would be liable 
to a confinement of uncertain duration, and without a prospect of being 
exchanged. These considerations however, did not deter him from the 
attempt; and, bidding adieu to his amiable consort and numerous endeared 
connexions, and trusting to good fortune to favor his elopement, he 
embarked, and in due time arrived safe in Charleston, in the summer of 
1776. He landed soon after the noble defence made by General Moultrie at 
the fort on Sullivan's island. Charmed with the gallantry displayed by 
that general and his brave troops, the marquis presented him with 
clothing, arms and accoutrements for one hundred men. He met with a 
cordial reception from our Congress, and they immediately accepted his 
proffered services. He insisted that he would receive no compensation, and 
that he would commence his services as a volunteer. This noble 
philanthropist was received into the family of the commander-in-chief 
where a strong mutual attachment was contracted, and he has often been 
called the adopted son of Washington. July 31st, 1777, Congress resolved, 
that, "Whereas the Marquis de la Fayette, out of his great zeal to the 
cause of liberty in which the United States are engaged, has left his 
family and connexions, and at his own expense come over to offer his 
services to the United States without pension or particular allowance, and 
is anxious to risk his life in our cause - Resolved, That his service be 
accepted, and that, in consideration of his zeal, illustrious family and 
connexions, he have the rank and commission of major-general in the army 
of the United States."

At the battle of Brandywine, September, 1777, the marquis exhibited full 
proof of his undaunted bravery and military character, and received a 
wound in his leg. In May, 1777, with a select corps of two thousand five 
hundred men, he crossed the Schuylkill, and took post about twelve miles 
in front of our army at Valley Forge. A Quaker, in whose house he was to 
lodge, sent information to the enemy, who formed an instantaneous design 
of surprising him. General Gray, on the night of the 19th of May, marched 
with seven thousand men, and by a skillful movement got into the marquis' 
rear, while another detachment was advancing to his front. The marquis 
fortunately gained intelligence of their approach, and, by a prompt 
decision effected his retreat, and recrossed the river in season to defeat 
the design of the enemy. Had they succeeded, it must not only have proved 
fatal to the marquis and his detachment, but placed the remainder of our 
army in a situation of extreme hazard. In August, 1778, the marquis 
repaired to Rhode Island, to assist in the expedition under Major-General 
Sullivan, in conjunction with the French fleet, and he received the 
particular approbation and applause of Congress for his judicious and 
highly important services. In January, 1779, the marquis embarked at 
Boston, on a voyage to France and was subjected to imminent danger from a 
conspiracy among the sailors, a great part of whom were British. He 
returned in May, 1780, bringing the joyful intelligence that a French 
fleet and army would soon arrive on our coast. Through his great zeal for 
the cause of the United 'States, he exerted his influence with his 
government, no longer fearful of giving offence to the English, to afford 
money and troops and other important succors. He was soon put at the head 
of a select corps of light-infantry for the service of the campaign. This 
afforded him a new opportunity for the display of his munificence. He 
presented to every officer under his command an elegant sword, and his 
soldiers were clothed in uniform, principally at his expense. He infused 
into this corps a spirit of pride and emulation, viewing it as one formed 
and modeled according to his own wishes, and as deserving his highest 
confidence. They were the pride of his heart and he the idol of their 
regard; constantly panting for an opportunity of accomplishing some signal 
achievement worthy of his and their character. This corps was pronounced 
equal to any that could be produced in any country. In December, 1780, he 
marched with one thousand two hundred light-infantry for Virginia, to 
counteract the devastations of Arnold and Phillips; He made a forced march 
of two hundred miles, and prevented General Phillips' possessing himself 
of Richmond, and secured the stores of that place. At one period there was 
not a single pair of shoes in his whole command, and such was his zeal and 
generous spirit, and such the confidence and respect of the people, that 
be was enabled to borrow of the merchants of Baltimore two thousand 
guineas on his own credit, with which he purchased shoes and other 
necessary articles for his troops. The mar quis was employed in watching 
the motions of Lord Cornwallis in Virginia, with an inferior force; in 
this arduous duty he displayed the judgment, skill, and prudence of a 
veteran, with the ardor of youth. In a skirmish near Jamestown, not a man 
in the whole detachment was more exposed, and one of his horses was killed.

Lord Cornwallis having encamped near Jamestown, the Marquis La Fayette 
sent General Wayne with the Pennsylvania troops to take their station 
within a small distance of the British army, and watch their motions. The 
two advanced parties were soon engaged, and General Wayne drove that of 
the enemy back to their lines; and, without stopping there, attacked the 
whole British army, drawn up in order of battle, and charged them with 
bayonets. The action was extremely severe for the little time it lasted, 
but the disproportion of numbers was so great, that the enemy was on the 
point of surrounding our troops, when the marquis arrived in person, just 
time enough to order a retreat, by which they were rescued from their 
hazardous situation after suffering considerable loss.

General Henry Lee, in his Memoirs of the War in the Southern States, 
eulogizes the character and conduct of La Fayette, when compelled to fly 
before the British commander, in the following language: "In this period 
of gloom, of disorder and of peril, La Fayette was collected and 
undismayed. With zeal, with courage, and with sagacity, he discharged his 
arduous duties; and, throughout his difficult retreat, was never brought 
even to array but once in order for battle. - Invigorating our councils by 
his precepts; dispelling our despondency by his example; and encouraging 
his troops to submit to their many privations, by the cheerfulness with 
which he participated in their wants; he imparted the energy of his own 
mind to the country, and infused his high-toned spirit into the army."

Great encomiums were passed on the marquis for his humanity and goodness 
in visiting and administering to the relief of the wounded soldiers. Lord 
Cornwallis having received a reinforcement, was so confident of success 
against his young antagonist, that he imprudently said in a letter which 
was intercepted, "the boy cannot escape me." He planned the surprise of 
the marquis while on the same side of James river with himself; but in 
this he was baffled by means of a spy, whom the marquis sent into the 
enemy's camp to obtain some necessary intelligence. A combination of 
talents and skill defeated all the energies of physical power. During the 
siege of Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown, the marquis was among the most 
active and intrepid of the general officers, and he commanded a detachment 
of our light-infantry, which successfully assaulted the British redoubt on 
the right of our lines. Previous to his departure from Yorktown, he issued 
his last orders to his favorite corps of infantry, in which are contained 
the following expressions: "In the moment the major-general leaves this 
place, he wishes once more to express his gratitude to the brave corps of 
light-infantry, who for nine months past have been the companions of his 
fortunes. He will never forget that, with them alone, of regular troops, 
he had the good fortune to manoeuvre before, an army which after all its 
reductions is still six times superior to the regular force be had at that 
time."

The marquis now perceiving that the mighty contest for American 
independence, in which he had been so nobly engaged, was near its 
completion, was about to return with the well-earned laurels on his brow 
to his king and country. Congress resolved, November 23d, 1781, "that 
major-general the Marquis de la Fayette be informed that on a review of 
his conduct throughout the past campaign, and particularly during the 
period in which he had chief command in Virginia , the many new proofs 
which present themselves of his zealous attachment to the cause he has 
espoused, and of his judgment, vigilance, gallantry and address in its 
defence, have greatly added to the high opinion entertained by Congress of 
his merit and military talents."

During his military career in America, the marquis displayed that 
patriotism, integrity, humanity, and other virtue which characterize real 
greatness of soul. His manners being easy, affable and engaging, he was 
particularly endeared to the officers and soldiers under his command; they 
admired, loved, and revered him as their guide and support when in peril, 
and their warmest friend when in perplexity and trouble. The most 
affectionate attachment subsisted between him and the illustrious chief 
under whose banners it was his delight to serve, and whose language was
"This noble unites to all the military fire of youth, an uncommon maturity 
of judgment."

His very soul burned with the spirit of enterprise, and he manifested a 
disinterestedness and devotion to the cause of freedom, ever to be admired 
and applauded by a grateful people. He ever discovered, both in design and 
execution, those traits of genius, and that intuitive knowledge of 
tactics, which designate the great man and the successful warrior. The 
people of the United States are fully apprised of their high obligations 
to him, and their history will transmit the name of La Fayette with 
grateful acknowledgments to the latest posterity. It is gratifying to 
learn that Congress granted him a valuable tract of land, as a 
compensation in part for his disinterested patriotism and important 
services.

When in December, 1784, the marquis was about to take his final departure 
from America, Congress appointed a committee, consisting of one member 
from each state, to receive him, and in the name of Congress to take leave 
of him in such manner as might strongly manifest their esteem and regard 
for him. That they be instructed to assure him that Congress continue to 
entertain the same high sense of his abilities and zeal to promote the 
welfare of America, both here and in Europe, which they have frequently 
expressed and manifested on former occasions. That the United States 
regard him with particular affection, and will not cease to feel an 
interest in whatever may concern his honor and prosperity, and that their 
best and kindest wishes will always attend him. Congress resolved also 
that a letter be written to his Most Christian Majesty, expressive of the 
high sense which the United States, in Congress assembled, entertain of 
the zeal, talents, and meritorious services of the Marquis de la Fayette, 
and recommending him to the favor and patronage of his majesty. The 
marquis made a very respectful and affectionate reply, in which he 
expressed the lively feelings of a heart devoted to the welfare of our 
rising empire, and gratefully acknowledged that, at a time when an 
inexperienced youth, he was favored with his respected friend's paternal 
adoption. He thus concludes his address:

"May this immense temple of freedom ever stand as a lesson to oppressors, 
an example to the oppressed, a sanctuary for the rights of mankind; and 
may these happy United States attain that complete splendor and prosperity 
which will illustrate the blessings of their government, and for ages to 
come rejoice the departed souls of its founders. Never can Congress oblige 
me so much as when they put it in my power in every part of the world to 
the latest day of my life to gratify the attachment which will ever rank 
me among the most zealous and respectful servants of the United States."