The Old Bell of Independence; Or, Philadelphia in 1776

"The attack was certainly skilfully planned and truly executed, in spite of its want of success," remarked old Harmar. "Your opinion of the causes of the defeat, Mr. Smith, is that which is now generally adopted. The halt at Chew's house did not give rise to the retreat of Sullivan's division. The ammunition of the troops was exhausted, and they were not aware of Greene's approach until they had begun to fall back. By the way, did you hear how General Nash was killed?"

"He was killed by a cannon-ball, I believe," replied Smith.

"Yes," said old Harmar. "A round-shot from the British artillery striking a sign-post in Germantown, glanced therefrom, and, passing through his horse, shattered the general's thigh on the opposite side. The fall of the animal hurled its unfortunate rider with considerable force to the ground. With surprising courage and presence of mind, General Nash, covering his wound with both of his hands, called to his men, 'Never mind me, I have had a devil of a tumble; rush on, my boys, rush on the enemy—I'll be after you presently.' He could do no more.

Faint from loss of blood and the intense agony of his wound, the sufferer was borne to a house hard by, and attended by Dr. Craik, by special order of the commander-in-chief. The doctor gave his patient but feeble hopes of recovery, even with the chances of amputation, when Nash observed, 'It may be considered unmanly to complain, but my agony is too great for human nature to bear. I am aware that my days, perhaps hours, are numbered, but I do not repine at my fate. I have fallen on the field of honor, while leading my brave Carolinians to the assault of the enemy. I have a last request to make of his Excellency, the commander-in-chief, that he will permit you, my dear doctor, to remain with me, to protect me while I live, and my remains from insult.' Dr. Craik assured the general that he had nothing to fear from the enemy; it was impossible that they would harm him while living, or offer insult to his remains; that Lord Cornwallis was by this time in the field, and that, under his auspices, a wounded soldier would be treated with humanity and respect. The dying patriot and hero then uttered these memorable words: 'I have no favors to expect from the enemy. I have been consistent in my principles and conduct since the commencement of the troubles. From the very first dawn of the Revolution I have ever been on the side of liberty and my country.' "He lingered in extreme torture between two and three days, and died admired by his enemies, admired and lamented by his companions in arms. On Thursday, the ninth of October, the whole American army was paraded by order of the commander-in-chief, to perform the funeral obsequies of General Nash."

"I have heard those who knew him best speak of him as a brave soldier and a noble-hearted man; and your account of his death assures me of the truth of their eulogy," remarked Smith.

"It is said that Washington, seeing that his well-arranged plan was about to be defeated, could not control his anger and disappointment," said Mr. Jackson Harmar.

"It is true. Washington, like all very great men, was naturally strongly passionate. His usual self-command was the more wonderful because it had been acquired by stern practice. The battle of Germantown was one of those few occasions in his life when his feelings burst through all restraint; and then, it is said by those who should know, that his wrath was fierce and terrible. The officers were compelled, by considerations of his safety, to lead his horse from the field. He did all that a man could do to rally his broken troops, and exposed himself as fearlessly as the bravest soldier. All his exertions were vain, however, and he became much irritated in consequence."

"The retreat just when victory was within his grasp was enough to irritate any commander who valued his aim and plan," observed Mr. Jackson Harmar, agreeing with Smith in the remarks which he had just made. "I suppose, if Washington had been completely successful at Germantown, the British would have been driven from Philadelphia," said Higgins.

"Ay; and from the vicinity of Philadelphia," replied Smith. "They could not have recovered from such a defeat."

BATTLE OF THE KEGS

"Father," said Mr. Jackson Harmar, "I have a song in my portfolio, written by Francis Hopkinson while the British were in Philadelphia; perhaps you can tell us something about the event which is the subject of it. Here it is. It is called 'The Battle of the Kegs.'"

"The Battle of the Kegs! That I can, my boy. But read the song," replied old Harmar. His son then read the following facetious ditty:

"Gallants, attend, and hear a friendTrill forth harmonious ditty:Strange things I'll tell, which late befellIn Philadelphia city.Twas early day, as poets say,Just when the sun was rising,A soldier stood on log of wood,And saw a sight surprising.As, in amaze, he stood to gaze,—The truth can't be denied, sirs,—He spied a score—of kegs, or more,Come floating down the tide, sirs.A sailor, too, in jerkin blue,The strange appearance viewing,First damn'd his eyes, in great surprise,Then said, 'Some mischief's brewing.These kegs now hold the rebels bold,Pack'd up like pickled herringsAnd they're come down to attack the town,In this new way of ferrying.'The soldier flew, the sailor, too,And, scared almost to death, sirs,Wore out their shoes to spread the news,And ran till out of breath, sirs.Now up and down, throughout the town,Most frantic scenes were acted;And some ran here, and some ran there,Like men almost distracted.Some fire cried, which some denied,But said the earth had quakèd;And girls and boys, with hideous noise,Ran through the town half-naked.Sir William he, snug as a flea,Lay all this time a snoring,Nor dream'd of harm, as he lay warm,While all without was roaring.Now, in affright, he starts upright,Awaked by such a clatter:He rubs both eyes, and boldly cries,'For God's sake, what's the matter?'At his bedside he then espiedSir Erskine at command, sirs;Upon one foot he had one boot,And t'other in his hand, sirs.'Arise! arise!' Sir Erskine cries:'The rebels—more's the pity—Without a boat, are all afloat,And ranged before the city.'The motley crew, in vessels new,With Satan for their guide, sir,Pack'd up in bags, or wooden kegs,Come driving down the tide, sir.'Therefore prepare for bloody war!These kegs must all be routed;Or surely we despised shall be,And British courage doubted.'The royal band now ready stand,All ranged in dread array, sirs;With stomach stout, to see it out,And make a bloody day, sirs.The cannons roar from shore to shore,The small arms make a rattle;Since wars began, I'm sure no manE'er saw so strange a battle.The rebel vales, the rebel dales,With rebel trees surrounded,The distant woods, the hills and floods,With rebel echoes sounded.The fish below swam to and fro,Attack'd from every quarter:Why, sure, thought they, the devil's to pay'Mongst folks above the water.The kegs, 'tis said, though strongly made,Of rebel staves and hoops, sirs,Could not oppose their powerful foes,The conquering British troops, sirs.From morn to night, these men of mightDisplay'd amazing courage;And when the sun was fairly down,Retired to sup their porridge.A hundred men, with each a pen,Or more—upon my word, sirs,It is most true—would be too fewTheir valor to record, sirs.Such feats did they perform that dayUpon these wicked kegs, sirs,That years to come, if they get home,They'll make their boasts and brags, sirs."

"Ha! ha! that's a good thing. The enemy used to be so fond of the word 'rebel' that they would attach it to the most trifling things, when speaking of our people. Judge Hopkinson ridicules that in fine style," remarked old Harmar.

"It ought to be sung to the tune of the 'Hoosier's Ghost,'" said Wilson.

"Who is the Sir Erskine alluded to in the song?" inquired Mrs. Harmar. "Sir William Erskine, one of Sir William Howe's officers," replied old Harmar. "This song created much merriment among the whigs at the time it was written, so that, however much the enemy were right, we had the laugh on our side."

"But what were the circumstances which gave rise to it?" inquired Mr.

Jackson Harmar, impatiently.

"I was about to tell you," replied his father. "A Mr. David Bushnell had invented several ingenious articles of submarine machinery, for the purpose of destroying the British vessels stationed in the Delaware. Among these was the American torpedo, a machine shaped like a water tortoise, and managed by a single person. It contained sufficient air to support respiration thirty minutes without being replenished, valves to admit or reject water for the purpose of rising or sinking, ballast to keep it upright, and a seat for the operator. Above the rudder was a place for carrying a large powder magazine, constructed from two pieces of oak timber, and capable of carrying one hundred and fifty pounds of powder, with the apparatus for firing it. Within the magazine was an apparatus constructed to run any proposed length of time under twelve hours, after which it sprung a strong lock similar to that of a gun, which gave fire to the powder. This apparatus was so secured that it could be set in motion only by the casting off of the magazine from the vessel.

"With this machine a skilful operator could swim so low on the surface of the water, as to approach at night very near to a ship without being discovered. After sinking quickly, he could keep at any necessary depth, and row to a great distance in any direction, without coming to the surface. Bushnell found, however, that much trial and instruction were required for a man of common ingenuity to become a skilful manager. It was first tried by his brother, who, unfortunately, was taken ill at the time when he had become an able operator. Another person was procured, and the first experiment tried upon the Eagle, a sixty-four, which Lord Howe commanded in person. He went under the ship, and attempted to fix the wooden screw into her bottom, but struck, as was supposed, a bar of iron running from the rudder-hinge. Not being well skilled in the management of the machine, he lost the ship in attempting to move to another place; and, after seeking her in vain for some time, rowed a little distance and rose to the surface. Daylight had now advanced so that the attempt could not be renewed, and, fearing he was discovered, he detached the magazine from his vessel and escaped. In an hour the powder exploded, throwing a vast column of water to an amazing height, and leaving the enemy to conjecture whether it was caused by a bomb, a water-spout, or an earthquake. Want of resources obliged Mr. Bushnell to abandon his schemes for that time; but, in 1777, he made an attempt from a whale-boat against the Cerberus frigate, by drawing a machine against her side with a line. It accidentally became attached to a schooner and exploded, tearing the vessel in pieces. Three men were killed, and one dangerously wounded.

"In December, 1777, Mr. Bushnell contrived another ingenious expedient for accomplishing his favorite object. He charged a number of kegs with powder, arranging them so as to explode on coming in contact with anything while floating along the tide. This squadron was launched at night on the Delaware river, above the English shipping; but, unfortunately, the proper distance could not be well ascertained, and they were set adrift too far from the vessels, so that they became obstructed and dispersed by the floating ice. On the following day, however, one of them blew up a boat, and others exploded, occasioning the greatest consternation among the British seamen. The troops were aroused, and, with the sailors, manned the wharves and shipping at Philadelphia, discharging their cannon and small-arms at everything they could see floating in the river during the ebb tide.

"The scene must have been a very ridiculous one, and we cannot wonder at Judge Hopkinson making such comic use of it. The British must have imagined that every keg was the visible part of a torpedo, intended for their destruction."

"We cannot wonder at their consternation, while in constant danger of being blown into the air," said Mr. Jackson Harmar. "Just place yourself in their position; and, knowing that several attempts had been made to blow up the ships, how would you have acted?"

"I should have made quite as much noise, I suppose," replied old Harmar; "but then it was so laughable. I don't think the folks aboard of those ships slept for a week after finding that there was powder in the kegs. That, I believe, was Bushnell's last attempt to destroy the fleet."

"For my part," remarked Wilson, "I never liked such contrivances; and it is a very pregnant fact that in most cases they have failed, when, from the skill and science displayed in their construction, success was anticipated. It's my opinion, God works against such things. As much as I hated the enemy, I could not sanction such wholesale murder—for murder it would have been, to have sent hundreds of men into eternity, without giving them an inch of fair fighting ground. I would not have minded blowing up the British government—that I could have done myself without any more sting of conscience than the hangman feels; but soldiers and seamen fight fairly and openly for their country's honor and rights, as they understand those things, and they should be met in the same manner."

"You're right, Mr. Wilson. Torpedoes, catamarans, and such inventions, might be employed by both parties in war, and with destructive effect. But wars ought to be conducted in such a manner as to gain the desired end with as little loss of life as possible; besides, in the eyes of all really brave men, these things must seem cowardly," said Morton.

"You must permit me to differ with you, gentlemen," put in Mr. Jackson Harmar; and, in a very dignified, Congressional style, he delivered himself of the following defence of the innovations of modern warfare: "I view all such contrivances as the triumph of the genius and skill of man over mere brute force, and as tending to the great ends of the peace and happiness of mankind. They place the weak upon a level with the strong, and make it evident to every one that the best course would be to submit all questions of right to the arbitration of the mind instead of the arm and sword. Suppose I, being a small, weak man, should quarrel with a man of great physical strength, and a hatred to the death should be declared between us. Now, upon whichever side the bone of right lay, the strong man would have the power to destroy me; but if I set my brain to work, and contrive an 'infernal machine,' I shall be superior to him, and drive him to the same resource. Now, we both see by this, that we stand an even chance of being destroyed, and reason resumes her reign. We see that the wisest and safest course for both would be to submit the question involved in the quarrel to the judgment of a mutual and impartial friend. Even so these inventions operate among nations, which, by the way, should be ruled by the same general principles as individuals."

"That's all very true," remarked Wilson. "But if I was about to fight a duel with a man, and I stood up, pistol in hand, while he stood off beyond my reach, and with some infernal invention endeavored to kill me, I should call him a coward."

"That would not settle the dispute," said Mr. Jackson Harmar. "Your wisest course would be to equal his invention, and compel him to fight fairly or make peace."

ARNOLD'S TREASON

"Many strange and many laughable public events occurred in Philadelphia during the Revolution," said old Harmar. "I was with the army during the greater part of the time, but our family remained in the city, and kept me advised of everything that was going on. I was engaged to be married to your mother, Jackson, before the war commenced, and I had to leave her in Philadelphia also, until the war was over. She used to write me letters, telling me about everything that passed in the city that was interesting. I recollect in one letter she gave me an account of how the news of Arnold's treason was received among the people."

"With blessings on the traitor's head, of course," remarked Wilson, ironically.

"I could imagine how it was received," said Mr. Jackson Harmar. "The people were indignant and cursed the traitor."

"The people of Philadelphia knew Arnold's real character," replied old Harmar. "They knew, from his residence among them, that he was capable of selling his soul for gold, glory, and pleasure; but they did not suspect him of any intention of leaving our cause entirely. They thought he would see that it was for his interest to stand by his country's rights. While in command in this city, Arnold had been very intimate with several wealthy tory families, and I believe had married a lady who was connected with them. But such an intimacy was not sufficient to justify suspicions of his patriotism, if it had not been joined with other circumstances. He gave great entertainments at his house, and lived as if he was worth a mint of money. Then he was always in trouble with the committees of Congress about money matters, which made people generally believe that he cared more for gold than he did for principles. Well, when the news of his discovered treachery reached Philadelphia, the men with whom he had been wrangling about money said they knew it would turn out just so, and they never expected anything else; and the citizens generally were very indignant. They chose some laughable ways of showing the state of their feelings. An artist constructed a stuffed figure of the traitor, as large as life, and seated him in a cart, with a figure of the devil alongside of him, holding a lantern so as to show his face to the people. The words, 'Benedict Arnold, the Traitor,' were placed on a board over the head of the first figure. An evening was appointed for the display, and the hanging and burning of the effigy. A vast procession was formed, with the cart at the head, and drums and fife playing the Rogues' March. This paraded the streets of the city during the whole evening. The people groaned and hissed, and pelted the figures as they passed. At length the procession reached a common which had been selected for the purpose, and on which a gallows had been erected. There the effigy was hung, and then taken down and burnt. In the fire, the figure of old Nick was arranged with one hand upon Arnold's head, and the other pointing below, while he grinned as if over a triumph."

"An appropriate ceremony," said Wilson.

"It must have been a great sight," observed Mrs. Harmar.

"They should have caught the man himself, and burnt him instead of a stuffed figure," said Higgins.

"It would have saved Andre," remarked Smith.

"The scoundrel!" exclaimed Morton. "He ought to have been put to death with all the torture the Indians use with their captives."

These slight remarks indicated the peculiar manner in which each of these individuals viewed a subject.

"The British generals expected that Arnold's example would be followed by numbers of the Americans; but I think they soon saw the character of the people, and the way they regarded Arnold," said old Harmar.

"It's my opinion that Arnold's going over to the enemy was a benefit to our cause," remarked Smith. "Such men are stains upon the character of the people with whom they associate; and if a selfish, sensual traitor was fit company for Sir Henry Clinton and his officers, he was not for Washington and the other generals of our army." "Some of our people thought that he would prove a dangerous foe; but, after the attack on New London, all his activity and bravery seem to have fallen asleep. We had many men who could have met and defeated him, with anything like equal force. We did not lose much by his treachery, and the British lost Andre, who would have outweighed many Arnolds," said Morton.

"But treason found its reward," observed Mr. Jackson Harmar. "If Arnold had an atom of conscience or sensibility to shame, the curses of a whole people, whom he had turned from admiring friends to bitter foes, and the jeers and scorn of those whom he wished to make friends, must have planted many a thorn in his bosom, to rankle and poison his life."

"If he had any conscience?" remarked Morton, with an unbelieving smile.

"The people of Philadelphia showed that they had the true patriotic spirit in them, in burning that effigy of Arnold," said Mr. Jackson Harmar; "and taught the enemy that, though they might buy one man, they could not hire a people to follow wrong example."

CAPTURE OF GENERAL PRESCOTT

"Well, leaving Arnold to the execration of all patriotic and pure-souled men," remarked Mr. Jackson Harmar, assuming the post of pilot to the conversation, "there is an exploit of the Revolution which always struck me as being one of the most daring and perilous to be found in the annals of war. I mean the capture of Major-General Prescott by Major Barton. If either of you, gentlemen, know the circumstances of that affair, I would be obliged to you for your information."

"I don't know as much about it as you may obtain from history," replied old Harmar, speaking for himself. "Our line was in another neighborhood."

"I should suppose Mr. Morton was acquainted with the facts, as he was up in that part of the country about that time," observed Wilson.

"I was; and do know all that one engaged in the expedition might tell me," replied Morton. "Furthermore, I have no objection to communicating my information.—I would thank you for a glass of water, Mrs. Harmar." The water was handed to the old man, and, after a refreshing draught, he proceeded with his narrative.

"You must know, that in the latter part of 1771 General Charles Lee was surprised and taken prisoner by a detachment of British troops. This was the result of his own carelessness. The British chuckled over his capture, saying that they had caught the American palladium, as if Lee was at all necessary to the success of our cause. However, the Americans considered him a valuable officer, and Major William Barton, of the Rhode Island line, resolved upon retaking him or procuring his exchange.

"Some months elapsed, after the capture of General Lee, before an opportunity offered of effecting the object which Major Barton had in view. In the month following that of the capture, the enemy took possession of the islands of Rhode-Island, Canonicut, and Prudence. Major Barton was then stationed at Tiverton, and for some months anxiously watched the motions of the enemy, with but feeble prospect of obtaining the opportunity he desired.

"At length, on the 20th June, 1777, a man by the name of Coffin, who made his escape from the British, was seized by some of the American troops, and carried to Major Barton's quarters. Major Barton availed himself of the opportunity to inquire respecting the disposition of the British forces. Coffin on examination, stated that Major-General Richard Prescott had established his head-quarters on the west side of Rhode-Island, and described minutely the situation of the house in which he resided, which he said was owned by a Mr. Pering. His account was a few days after confirmed by a deserter from the ranks of the enemy. Major Barton was now confirmed in his belief of the practicability of effecting his favorite object:—but serious obstacles were first to be encountered and removed. Neither his troops, nor their commander, had been long inured to service; and the intended enterprise was of a nature as novel as it was hazardous. Besides, Major Barton was aware that the undertaking, should it prove unsuccessful, would be pronounced rash and unadvised, and, in its consequences, though his life might be preserved, be followed by degradation and disgrace. Moreover, to involve in the consequences of an enterprise, devised and undertaken without previous consultation with his superiors in rank, the interest and perhaps the lives of a portion of his brave countrymen, was a subject that excited reflections calculated to damp the ardor and appall the courage of the bravest minds. Still, however, upon mature reflection, aided by a consciousness that its only motive was the interest of his country, he resolved to hazard his reputation and his life in the attempt.

"The regiment to which Major Barton was attached, was commanded by Colonel Stanton, a respectable and wealthy farmer in Rhode-Island, who, in the spirit of the times, had abandoned the culture of his farm and the care of his family, and put at hazard his property and his life in defence of his country. To this gentleman Major Barton communicated his plan, and solicited permission to carry it into execution. Colonel Stanton readily authorized him 'to attack the enemy when and where he pleased.' Several officers in the confidence of Major Barton were then selected from the regiment for the intended expedition, on whose abilities and bravery he could rely:—these were, Captain Samuel Phillips, Lieutenant Joshua Babcock, Ensign Andrew Stanton, and John Wilcock. (Captain Adams subsequently volunteered his services, and took an active part in the enterprise.) These gentlemen were informed by Major Barton, that he had in contemplation an enterprise which would be attended with great personal hazard to himself and his associates; but which, if success attended it, would be productive of much advantage to the country. Its particular object, he stated, would be seasonably disclosed to them. It was at their option to accept or decline his invitation to share with him in the dangers, and, as he trusted, in the glory that would attend the undertaking. The personal bravery of Major Barton had been previously tested; and such was the confidence and esteem which he had acquired among the officers under his command, that, without insisting upon a previous developement of his plans, his proposal was immediately accepted. Major Barton experienced more difficulty in obtaining the necessary number of boats, as there were but two in the vicinity. But this difficulty, though it caused a few days' delay, was at length obviated, and five whale-boats were procured and fitted for service. Major Barton had purposely postponed procuring the necessary number of men until the last moment, from an apprehension that their earlier selection might excite suspicion, and defeat the object of their enterprise. Desirous that this little band might be composed entirely of volunteers, the whole regiment was now ordered upon parade. In a short, but animated address, Major Barton informed the soldiers that he projected an expedition against the enemy, which could be effected only by the heroism and bravery of those who should attend him; that he desired the voluntary assistance of about forty of their number, and directed those 'who would hazard their lives in the enterprise, to advance two paces in front.' Without one exception, or a moment's hesitation, the whole regiment advanced. Major Barton, after bestowing upon the troops the applause they merited, and stating that he required the aid of but a small portion of their number, commenced upon the right, and, passing along the lines, selected from the regiment, to the number of thirty-six, those who united to bravery and discipline a competent knowledge of seamanship, for the management of the boats. Having thus obtained an adequate number of officers and men, and everything being ready, the party, on the 4th of July, 1777, embarked from Tiverton for Bristol. While crossing Mount Hope Bay, there arose a severe storm of thunder and rain, which separated three boats from that of their commander. The boat containing Major Barton, and one other, arrived at Bristol soon after midnight. Major Barton proceeded to the quarters of the commanding officer, where he found a deserter who had just made his escape from the enemy at Rhode-Island. From this man he learned that there had been no alteration for the last few days in the position of the British. On the morning of the fifth, the remaining boats having arrived, Major Barton, with his officers, went to Hog Island, not far distant from Bristol, and within view of the British encampment and shipping. It was at this place that he disclosed to his officers the particular object of the enterprise, his reasons for attempting it, and the part each was to perform. Upon reconnoitring the position of the enemy, it was thought impracticable, without great hazard of capture, to proceed directly from Bristol to the head-quarters of the British general. It was determined, therefore, to make Warwick Neck, a place opposite to the British encampment, but at a greater distance than Bristol, the point from which they should depart immediately for Rhode-Island. The closest secrecy was enjoined upon his officers by Major Barton, and they returned to Bristol.