The Old Bell of Independence; Or, Philadelphia in 1776

"It was debated in the garrison, whether it would be a point of prudence to hazard a sally. An officer, who had been at the enemy's camp with a flag, opposed it, as did also Colonel Dennison and several others, and Colonel Butler rather declined it; but, among others who were in favor of it, a certain captain, (who never lived to lament his temerity,) urged it with so much vehemence, that the commandant consented. A Mr. Ingersol, then in the garrison with a flag from the enemy, had been some time their captive, and was intimately acquainted with their strength. He did his utmost to deter them from the rash attempt, but all in vain; and, when he saw them turn out and parade, could no longer refrain from tears.

"The third day of July, in the year 1778, was the fatal day that deluged in blood the plains of Wyoming! The garrison marched off in a solid column, and met with no material obstruction till they reached the enemy's camp, about three miles above Forty Fort. Here they had the Susquehanna on the right, and a thick swamp on the left; and, perceiving that the enemy extended from the one to the other, ready to receive them, they displayed column, which threw them into a similar position. Colonel Zebulon Butler commanded the right, and was opposed by Colonel John Butler, on the enemy's left. Colonel Dennison commanded on the left, and was opposed by Colonel Brandt, on the enemy's right. The action commenced at about forty rods distance. The air being heavy, the smoke obstructed their sight; and, after the first discharge, they could only direct their aim by the flash of the enemy's guns. Little execution was done till after several discharges. Brandt marched a party into the swamp, and flanked the militia. The enemy, now firing from under cover of the thicket, greatly annoyed that wing. The militia dropped down very fast, and at length began to give way, one after another, in rapid succession, till the rout became general. The fugitives were closely pursued by the Indians, who, besides their rifles and tomahawks, were provided with long spears, which they threw with great dexterity, and seldom missed their object—the practice of throwing the tomahawk and spear, and of taking aim, being the principal exercises to which an Indian warrior is trained.

"It was impossible for men thus flying and thus pursued to rally, nor had they a moment's time even to load their pieces, while death was close upon every man's heel. And, besides, many of them had no other weapon but a rusty musket. Flight was their only hope; and the Indians, being most accustomed to running, if they could not run the fastest, could, however, out-wind them. The carnage at once became general, and three-fourths of the militia were killed.

"According to the account of some who were present, the number that sallied out was five hundred, and of those who escaped the scalping-knife two hundred. Others assert that the sortie consisted of but three hundred, and those who escaped were less than one hundred. The probability is that, between the confusion, carnage, and panic of the day, the accounts are all incorrect. But, by every account, about three hundred able-bodied men, amounting to more than half the settlement, were slain on that dismal day.

"The fugitives fled in every direction. Some saved themselves by fair running; some, by hiding till the darkness covered their retreat; and many by swimming the river, &c. Particular details of all individual escapes cannot be given; nor would they, perhaps, be entertaining, and I shall, therefore, pass them over. Some few of the enemy were killed in the pursuit; their total loss was never ascertained, but we are to presume that it was small.

"Forty Fort was immediately evacuated. Some few of the inhabitants took British protections, and remained on their premises. The signal for a house under protection was a white cloth hung up near the door, and for a man, a white rag round the crown of his hat.

"Those of the militia who escaped from the battle, hastened toward the Delaware, and, on their way through the swamp, met Captain Spaulding's detachment, who, on being informed of the strength of the enemy and deplorable condition of the settlement, judged it prudent to turn about and retire to the settlement on the Delaware.

"The road through the swamp was thronged with women and children, heavy-hearted and panic-struck; destitute of all the comforts of life, travelling day and night, and in continual dread of the tomahawk and scalping-knife! The whole country, and all the property in it, was abandoned to the savages, save only by the few who had taken British protections.

"Colonel Nathan Dennison, who succeeded to the command after Butler escaped, seeing the impossibility of an effectual defence, went with a flag to Colonel John Butler, to know what terms he would grant on a surrender; to which application Butler answered, with more than savage phlegm, in two short words, 'The hatchet.' Dennison, having defended the fort till most of the garrison were killed or disabled, was compelled to surrender at discretion. Some of the unhappy persons in the fort were carried away alive; but the barbarous conquerors, to save the trouble of murder in detail, shut up the rest promiscuously in the houses and barracks, which they set on fire, enjoying the savage pleasure of beholding the whole consumed in one general blaze.

"They then crossed the river to the only remaining fort, Wilkesborough, which, in hopes of mercy, surrendered without demanding any conditions. They found about seventy continental soldiers, who had been engaged merely for the defence of the frontiers, whom they butchered with every circumstance of horrid cruelty. The remainder of the men, with the women and children, were shut up, as before, in the houses, which being set on fire, they perished altogether in the flames.

"A general scene of devastation was now spread through all the townships. Fire, sword, and the other different instruments of destruction, alternately triumphed. The settlements of the tories alone generally escaped, and appeared as islands in the midst of the surrounding ruin. The merciless ravagers, having destroyed the main objects of their cruelty, directed their animosity to every part of living nature belonging to them—shooting and destroying some of their cattle, and cutting out the tongues of others, leaving them still alive to prolong their agonies.

"The following are a few of the more singular circumstances of the barbarity practised in the attack upon Wyoming. Captain Bedlock, who had been taken prisoner, being stripped naked, had his body stuck full of splinters of pine-knots, and then a heap of the same piled around him; the whole was then set on fire, and his two companions, Captains Ranson and Durgee, thrown alive into the flames and held down with pitchforks. The returned tories, who had at different times abandoned the settlement in order to join in those savage expeditions, were the most distinguished for their cruelty: in this they resembled the tories that joined the British forces. One of these Wyoming tories, whose mother had married a second husband, butchered with his own hands both her, his father-in-law, his own sisters, and their infant children. Another, who during his absence had sent home several threats against the life of his father, now not only realized them in person, but was himself, with his own hands, the exterminator of his whole family, mothers, brothers, and sisters, and mingled their blood in one common carnage with that of the aged husband and father. The broken parts and scattered relics of families, consisting mostly of women and children who had escaped to the woods during the different scenes of this devastation, suffered little less than their friends, who had perished in the ruins of their houses. Dispersed, and wandering in the forests as chance and fear directed, without provision or covering, they had a long tract of country to traverse, and many, without doubt, perished in the woods."

"Such deeds make the blood curdle in my veins," observed Mrs. Harmar.

"It is said that the cruelty of Colonel John Butler at Wyoming has been greatly exaggerated," remarked Mr. Jackson Harmar. "His son, Walter Butler, was certainly a savage, and the bloody deeds he committed have been frequently attributed to his father. But I think history should set the matter right, nor found its assertions upon the stories of the exasperated whigs."

"That's well thought of you, Mr. Harmar, but it's my opinion that historians cannot find any evidence of the humanity of John Butler. As I said before, I firmly believe the story of my friend. If John Butler did not butcher the men who asked for quarter, he looked quietly on while the red men did it, and therefore he is just as criminal, in my eyes, as if he had handled the tomahawk," said Morton, emphatically.

"Colonel Zebulon Butler, with his family, escaped from the fort before the massacre, I believe?" observed Higgins, inquisitively.

"Yes; and in that I think he betrayed his trust. A commander should either conquer or die with his men," replied Morton.

"But when slaughter is certain, I think every man is justified in doing all that he can to save himself," said old Harmar.

"That is selfish. If slaughter was certain, would it not have been more honorable to remain, and make the enemy pay life for life, than it would be to steal away and leave women and children to fall without revenge?" observed Wilson.

"But would it be wise?" asked old Harmar, interrogatively.

"Whatever is honorable is wise," replied Wilson.

STORY OF THE DAUPHIN'S BIRTHDAY

"Mr. Mortan, what do you think was the most interesting scene you saw during the war?" enquired Mr. Jackson Harraar.

"Well, that's a question it requires some thinking to answer," replied Morton. "Leaving battle scenes out of view, I think the celebration of the Dauphin's birth-day, in May, 1782, was one of the most interesting events I have ever witnessed."

"It was a great celebration," observed Higgins.

"You see," began Morton, "our army was then encamped on the high grounds on both sides of the Hudson. The camp on the west side of the river was called New Boston, because the huts had been put up by the Massachusetts troops. The head-quarters of General Washington were at West Point. As our Congress had entered into an alliance with the king of France, General Washington thought it proper to seize every occasion of doing honor to our allies; and when the French were thrown into all sorts of rejoicing by the birth of an heir to the throne, he decided that we should celebrate the same event. The thirty-first of May was fixed upon for the celebration. Great preparations were made for the festival. In General Washington's orders, invitations were given to all the officers in the army, and they were requested to invite any friend or acquaintance they might have in the country to join them. A romantic, open plain near West Point was chosen for the building of the great bower under which the company were to meet and partake of a grand feast. A French engineer, named Villefranche, was employed, with one thousand men, ten days in completing it, and, when completed, it was one of the most beautiful edifices I have ever seen. It was composed entirely of the material which the trees in the neighborhood afforded, and was about six hundred feet long and thirty wide. The roof was supported by a grand colonnade of one hundred and eighteen pillars made of the trunks of trees. The roof and walls were made of the boughs and branches of trees, curiously interwoven, while the ends were left open. On the inside, every pillar was enriched with muskets and bayonets, which were arranged in a fanciful manner; and the whole interior was decorated with evergreens, French and American colors, and various emblems and mottoes.

"On the day of the festival, the whole army was paraded on the hills on both side of the river, and it was a grand view. For several miles around, as far as the eye could reach, lines of men, glittering in their accoutrements, appeared. The officers were in front, or among their respective commands, and their waving plumes seemed like floating foam on the waves. At the signal—the firing of three cannon—all the regimental officers left their commands and proceeded to the building to join in the festivities there prepared by order of the commander-in-chief.

"At five o'clock, dinner being on the table, an interesting procession moved from the quarters of Major-General M'Dougall, through a line formed by Colonel Grain's regiment of artillery. In front, walked the noble commander-in-chief, his countenance expressive of unusual cheerfulness, and his stately form moving with characteristic grace and dignity. He was accompanied by his lady, and his suite followed him. Then came all the principal officers of the army with their ladies, Governor Clinton and lady, and various distinguished characters from the States of New York and New Jersey. The procession moved to the vast bower, where more than five hundred guests were assembled. The banquet was magnificently prepared, and bands of music added melody to the other charms of the scene—thus feasting and satisfying the eye, the ear, and the palate. The cloth being removed, thirteen appropriate toasts were drank, each being announced by the firing of thirteen cannon and the playing of appropriate music by the bands in attendance. The company retired from the table at seven o'clock, and the regimental officers rejoined their respective commands. In the evening, the arbor was brilliantly illuminated. The numerous lights, gleaming among the boughs and leaves of the trees that composed the roof and the walls, presented the appearance of myriads of glowworms or of thousands of stars glittering in the night. When the officers had rejoined their different regiments, thirteen cannon were again fired, as a prelude to the general feu-de-joie which immediately succeeded. Three times was it repeated, and the reverberations sounded among the hills with tremendous effect, darkness adding grandeur to the scene, as the flashing of the musketry of the army broke upon it like sheeted lightning. The feu-de-joie was immediately followed by three shouts of acclamation and benediction for the dauphin, given by the whole army as with one voice. At half-past eleven o'clock the celebration was concluded by an exhibition of fireworks, ingeniously constructed of various figures. There was a ball given during the evening in the arbor, at which General Washington, with Mrs. Knox for a partner, led the dance. Thus ended the general festivity."

"There," remarked Mrs. Harmar, "that has interested me much more than all the horrible stories that have been told to-day. How I should have liked to be there!"

"It was a sight such as all men are not permitted to see," said Morton.

"It was grand—it was sublime!" exclaimed Mr. Jackson Harmar. "A scene worthy of any pen or any pencil!" As Mr. Jackson Harmar seized all such opportunities for exercising his literary propensities, it was most probable that he considered that the pen alone could do justice to the scene, and that his pen was destined to immortalize it.

The bell now rang for tea, and the party adjourned to the tea-table, where, however, the conversation turned upon matters foreign to the Revolution. Mrs. Harmar would introduce household concerns when her husband began to allude to the war, and the children, especially Thomas Jefferson Harmar, would play around the old veterans, asking them trifling questions, until the meal was finished, and then Morton, Higgins, Smith, and Wilson prepared to return to their respective residences. Morton lived in the interior of Pennsylvania, and was stopping with a near relative during his visit to the city. The other three resided in New Jersey, and were putting up at the same house—that of a friend of Higgins'. Old Harmar shook hands with his old camp associates, wishing them many days of health and happiness to come, and trusting that they might meet again before death should claim them. The veterans kissed the children, and Morton gave Thomas Jefferson Harmar a bullet from Bunker's Hill, telling him to learn what his countrymen had fought and bled for, and to act like them on a like occasion, if any such should ever occur, which he earnestly hoped would never be the case. Mr. Jackson Harmar procured a carriage, and the veterans being soon comfortably seated, he accompanied them to their respective residences. On bidding him farewell, the aged patriots thanked him for his kindness, which Mr. Jackson Harmar returned with an elaborate panegyric on the men of the Revolution, and the duty of his generation to treat them with the highest veneration and respect. The public either suffered from or were benefited by the interview between Mr. Jackson Harmar and the veteran patriots, for the press soon teemed with stirring poetical appeals to the people to hold their liberties dearer than life, on account of the blood that they had cost. A large volume also appeared, entitled "Legends of the Times that tried Men's Souls," beginning with the history of the "Old State-House Bell."

THE END