CHAPTER VIII
THE BATTLE OF BRANDYWINE
“The Brandywine Creek, as it is called, commences with two branches called the East and West branches, which unite in one stream, flowing from West to East about twenty-two miles, and emptying itself into the Delaware about twenty-five miles below Philadelphia.”* The union of these branches takes place over four miles above where the stream crosses the circular boundary-line dividing Delaware County from the State of Delaware. The banks of the creek were steep, uneven, and covered with a heavy growth of forest trees at the period of which I am writing, and for the accommodation of public travel, roads had been cut and graded at convenient points to reach the fords of the Brandywine; that most generally used being on the direct road to Philadelphia and known as Chad’s Ford. The topography of that section, in a military aspect, impressed the English chief of engineers as “an amazing strong country, being a succession of large hills, rather sudden with narrow vales, in short an entire defile.”**
Washington, as before stated, at Chad’s Ford, the centre of his position, where he anticipated the principal attack would be made, had stationed the main body of his army under command of Maj.-Gen. Greene, and comprising the brigades of Gens. Wayne, Weedon, Muhlenberg, and Maxwell’s Light Infantry. Slight earthworks and a redoubt had been constructed, and Col. Proctor, with his Pennsylvania Artillerists, was in charge of the battery of six guns, which commanded the usual crossing of the stream at that place. Wayne’s brigade, with Proctor’s men, occupied the intrenchments, while Weedon’s and Muhlenberg’s brigades of Virginia troops were stationed some distance in the rear as a reserve. The Pennsylvania militia, under Gen. John Armstrong, constituted the left wing and extended through the rough ground – then known as Rocky Field – to Pyle’s Ford, two miles below Chad’s, and there Col. Jehu Eyre, with Capt. Massey’s and McCullough’s companies of the artillery militia of Philadelphia, had placed his cannons so as to prevent the crossing of the stream at that point by the enemy. The right wing of the American army was composed of six brigades, in three divisions, that of Gen. Sullivan’s on the left, Gen. Lord Stirling on the right, and Gen. Stephens in the centre, reaching about two miles up the creek beyond Washington’s headquarters, while the pickets were extended well up the stream, Maj. Spear being stationed at Buffington’s Ford, now Brinton’s, five miles beyond Chad’s Ford.
On the evening of the 9th of September the two divisions of the British army under Lord Cornwallis and Maj.-Gen. Grant marched from Howe’s headquarters, in Mill Creek Hundred, Del., to Hock Hossing Meeting-House, and the following morning moved to Kennett Square, reaching that place about noon, where Lieut.-Gen. Knyphausen’s division was already encamped.
At daybreak next morning, the 11th of September, 1777, Gen. Howe marched his army in two columns against the American forces. The left wing, consisting of mounted and dismounted chasseurs, the first and second battalions of grenadiers, the guards, two squadrons of the Queen’s Light Dragoons mounted, and two squadrons dismounted, and four brigades of infantry, comprising, according to English reports, seven thousand men, commanded by Lord Cornwallis and accompanied by Howe himself, who, on that occasion, we are told by Joseph Townsend, rode a “large English horse, much reduced in flesh,” the result of the long voyage from New York and the scarcity of provender on shipboard. The American accounts, on the other hand, insist that this column amounted to thirteen thousand men. On that sultry autumn morning a thick fog hung like a curtain shutting out this movement from the eyes of the Continental scouts, and for miles the British troops, in light marching order, even their knapsacks laid aside, threaded their way along the road that ran northward almost parallel with the Brandywine for several miles without a whisper of their coming being borne to the ears of the American generals.
The column under Cornwallis having marched away, Knyphausen was not hurried in his movement, as his purpose was merely to amuse the Continental force in front of him until the left wing of the British army should have time to gain their right flank and rear. Hence it was about nine o’clock, four hours after Cornwallis had gone, that the Hessian general began to advance on the direct road to Chad’s Ford. Early on the morning of the day of battle, Gen. Maxwell crossed at Chad’s Ford, and with his riflemen had gone as far as Kennett Meeting-House to feel the British force, while small scouting-parties were extended even beyond that place. A graceful historical writer tells us that, as tradition has preserved the incident, a party of scouts had ventured to John Welsh’s tavern, within the very clutches of Knyphausen, and there hitched their horses at the front of the inn, while they comfortably sampled the New England rum and apple whiskey in the barroom. The Hessians, who “wore their beards on their upper lip, which was a novelty in that part of the country,” advancing, cut off the retreat of the American party by the front of the house, so that, abandoning their horses, they ran from the back door, turning, however, as they “fled, to discharge a spluttering volley that wounded one of their own horses left in the hands of the enemy.”***
The riflemen began to harass the advancing troops, and, by resorting to trees, fences, and every available shelter, Maxwell thus maintained an efficient skirmish, sustaining himself well as he retired slowly before the heavy column moving against him. From behind the building and graveyard walls at Kennett Meeting-House a number of the sharpshooters inflicted much loss on the British troops, but were compelled to retreat before the overwhelming body arrayed against them. By ten o’clock Maxwell had by the pressure of superior numbers been forced backward to the high ground on the west of the creek, and, after a bitter contest, to the ford itself. Some troops being sent over to his assistance, he renewed the struggle, even regaining the heights. Capt. Porterfield and Waggoner, with their commands, crossed the ford, moved to the left of Maxwell, where they began a vigorous attack on Ferguson’s Corps of Royal Riflemen, who at the time, together with a portion of the Twenty-eighth British Regiment, were engaged in throwing up light works, to put two guns in position on their right, to respond to Proctor’s artillery, which had opened fire from the opposite bank. The troops under Porterfield and Waggoner fought their way up a narrow, thickly-wooded valley, and forced a company of the enemy, supported by a hundred men from Gen. Stern’s Hessian brigade, to seek protection back of the stone house of William Harvey, the elder, who lived on the west side of the creek, until additional troops had hastened to their assistance. Proctor, from the other side of the stream observing this, trained his guns on the advancing Britons, and the house came directly in the line of his fire. William Harvey, then in his sixtieth year, had sent his family away from the dwelling, but, being a man of great personal courage, determined to remain to protect his property as far as he could from plunderers. When the American guns opened, Harvey sat on his front porch, when a neighbor, Jacob Way, seeing him there, called out, “Come away; thee is in danger here! Thee will surely be killed !” The old gentleman merely shook his head, while his friend urged him in vain. As they exchanged words a twelve-pound cannon ball from Proctor’s battery passed through both walls of the kitchen, and plunged along the piazza floor, tearing up the boards and barely avoiding William’s legs, until, a little farther on, it buried itself six feet deep in the earth. It is recorded that William hesitated no longer, but sought a safer locality. His house was thoroughly despoiled when the British came up.”(4*) He, however, lived nearly forty years after that trying ordeal.
The pertinacity of the attack of Maxwell’s brigade, as well as the audacious action of Porterfield and Waggoner, made it necessary for Knyphausen to send forward two brigades, supported by artillery, while at the same time a heavy column was marched toward Brinton’s Ford, thus outflanking Maxwell, who was compelled to recross the Brandywine. Simultaneously with these movements the Queen’s Rangers, under Capt. Weyms, of the Fortieth British Regiment, poured so hot a fire down the valley that Porterfield and Waggoner were also forced hastily to retire across the creek. The high ground about half a mile back from the Brandywine, vacated by Maxwell, was immediately occupied in force by the enemy, and guns were placed in position by Knyphausen to command the ford. From these occasionally a few shots were discharged, and responded to by Proctor’s cannons, which desultory firing inflicted but little damage. The casualties on the American side thus far had not exceeded sixty, while those of the British and Hessian troops were about one hundred and sixty. Hence, at half-past ten o’clock in the morning, when the enemy at Chad’s Ford seemed disinclined to make any vigorous attack, Col. Harrison, Washington’s secretary, might be well excused for having dispatched a hurried note to Congress, stating that he had no doubt but that the enemy would be repulsed.
Major Ferguson, the commander of the rifle corps in the English army, in a letter describing this battle, stated that while his men were lying concealed in a clump of woods, he noticed “a rebel officer in a hussar dress” pass in front of the American line, followed by another officer in dark green and blue, who was “mounted on a good gray horse, and wearing a remarkably high cocked hat.” Ferguson ordered three of his men to creep towards and fire at them, but hardly had he done so when he recalled the command, for the Americans were so near that he felt to shoot at them would be little less than deliberate murder. After the officers had passed some distance, they returned, and were again within easy reach of his sharpshooters. The following day Ferguson, in conversation with a wounded American, learned “that Gen. Washington was all the morning with the light troops, and attended only by a French officer in a hussar dress, he himself mounted and dressed in every respect as above described.”
On the morning of the battle Gen. Washington ascertained that Cornwallis had moved northward to some of the upper and unimportant fords, designing thus to turn the right flank of the American army. The commander-in-chief, fully aware that Maj. Spear was posted at Buffington’s Ford, whence he could dispatch intelligence of such a movement to Gen. Sullivan, who would promptly communicate with him, had resolved to strike Knyphausen, while beyond the reach of the support of Cornwallis’ division, and overwhelm him by numbers, and thus crush the British army in detail. The Hessian general, it is known, did not begin his advance until nine o’clock in the morning, and it was rightly believed that Cornwallis would have to march twelve miles before he could cross the creek, even if he effected a passage at Buffington’s Ford. Between nine and ten o’clock Col. Bland, with a few light-horsemen, crossed to the west side of the stream at Jones’ Ford, three miles above Chad’s, and, observing that Cornwallis’ column was then approaching Trimble’s Ford, on the west branch, he immediately dispatched a messenger with the tidings to Gen. Sullivan. Col. Hazen also made a report of like import. The following dispatch, which Col. Carrington(5*) states is a model for clearness in all details then needed, was sent by Lieut.-Col. Ross, of the Eighth Pennsylvania, to Gen. Sullivan, and by him in turn forwarded to Gen. Washington:
“GREAT VALLEY ROAD,
“11 o’clock A.M.
“DEAR GENERAL, A large body of the enemy, from every account 5000, with 16 or 18 field-pieces marched along this road just now. The road leads to Taylor’s Ferry & Jeffries’ Ferry on the Brandywine, & to the Great Valley, at the Sign of the Ship, on Lancaster road to Philadelphia. There is also a road from the Brandywine to Chester, by Dilworthtown. We are close in their rear, with about 70 men. Capt. Simpson lay in ambush with 20 men & gave them 3 rounds within a small distance, in which two of his men were wounded; one mortally. I believe General Howe is with this party, as Joseph Galloway is here known by the inhabitants with whom he spoke, & told them that Gen. Howe was with them.
Yours,
“JAMES Ross, Lieut. Col.”
Washington at once ordered Gen. Sullivan to cross the Brandywine and engage this division, to keep it employed, as it was the purpose of the commander-in-chief to attack the Hessian general immediately, shatter his command, and capture his baggage-train before the left wing, comprising the greater part of the British army, could retrace their steps and come to his relief. Gen. Greene was also directed to cross above Chad’s Ford, in order to strike Knyphausen on the left flank. That officer, with the celerity of movement that was a conspicuous trait in his military character, promptly sent his advance guard across the stream at Brinton’s Ford, where Sullivan’s command lay, and was prepared to follow with his command. The commander-in-chief was to remain with Wayne, who was to cross the Brandywine at Chad’s Ford in the face of the enemy. The fog which had clung to the earth in the early morning had vanished before the scorching sun, not yet midday high, and by noon this decisive movement would have been made, when the following note was delivered to Washington:
“BRENTON FORD,
“Sept. 11.
“DEAR GENERAL: Since I sent you the message by Major Moore, I saw Major Spear of the militia, who came this morning from a tavern called Martin’s, at the fork of the Brandywine. He came from thence to Welch’s Tavern, & heard nothing of the enemy about the fork of the Brandywine, & is confident they are not in that quarter; so that Col. Hazen’s information must be wrong. I have sent to that quarter to know whether there is any foundation for the report, & shall give your excellency the earliest information.
“I am, etc.,
“JOHN SULLIVAN.”
The bearer of this dispatch was followed by Maj. Spear, who was sent by Gen. Sullivan to Washington to verbally make his report to the commander-in-chief, and this intelligence was speedily supplemented by a similar statement made by Sergeant Tucker, of the Light-Horse. These tidings were of the utmost consequence to the American general, for they argued that Cornwallis had merely moved off as a ruse de guerre, and that both wings of the British army were in supporting distance of each other. Hence the orders for crossing the creek were countermanded, Gen. Greene’s advanced detachment was withdrawn, and the American army again resumed its former position. Washington, however, instructed Col. Bland to proceed to the extreme right and reconnoitre above the forks.
When the British invaded Chester County, Justice Thomas Cheyney, who was an outspoken Whig, was advised to absent himself from his dwelling in Thornbury, and to avoid personal danger he withdrew to the home of his relative, Col. John Hannum, at “Centre House,” now the village of Marshallton, located between the East and West Branches of the Brandywine. Here Cheyney had passed the night of Sept. 10, 1777, and the next morning he, with Hannum, started to visit the American camp at Chad’s Ford. As they rode along the highway near Trimble’s Mill and Ford, on the West Branch, in descending the hill they saw a large body of soldiers, their scarlet uniforms designating them as British troops, descending the hills opposite. Halting, they watched the direction in which the column moved, and saw that it was making towards Jefferies’ Ford; on the East Branch, their polished arms flashing and glittering in the sultry September sun. Having ascertained that fact, for a moment the two men consulted as to the course they should pursue, and finally it was decided that immediate intelligence of the presence of the British force at this point must be conveyed to Washington. Cheyney being mounted on a fleet hackney, Dr. Harvey tells me it was a sorrel pacing mare, started off in the direction of the American headquarters at a rapid pace, followed by Hannum, whose horse being less speedy was soon distanced, notwithstanding the squire turned the scales at two hundred pounds.(6*)
Washington was seated under a cherry-tree which then stood now blown down years ago – on the gentle declivity south of the road which leads to the crossing at Chad’s Ford, when he saw a stout-built man without a hat, riding a sorrel horse, which jumped the fences that stood in the direction he was coming across the fields to where Washington was. It was Cheyney, who, having first reported to Sullivan his tidings, had been so discourteously received that he inquired and was told where Washington himself was to be found. The latter listened as the squire related what he had seen, and, as the chieftain seemed to hesitate, Cheyney exclaimed, “By h—ll, it is so!” and dismounting, he picked up a twig, drew a sketch on the ground of the upper roads, describing how the British passed the fords of the forks of the Brandywine, and where the enemy would probably be at that time. So accurately was this information imparted, that notwithstanding it was most unwelcome news, the general was reluctantly convinced of its truth. Some of his staff-officers, however, spoke sneeringly of the report made by the justice, and the excited man with an oath said to Washington, “If you doubt my word, sir, put me under guard till you ask Anthony Wayne or Persie Frazer(7*) if I am a man to believed,” and then, turning to the smiling officers, his indignation found utterance: “I would have you to know that I have this day’s work as much at heart as e’er a Blood of you!”(8*)
The delays that had attended Squire Cheyney’s attempt to apprise the Americans of the danger that threatened them had consumed considerable time, and hardly had Washington acknowledged the accuracy of the intelligence brought to him, when an orderly galloped hastily to the group and delivered a dispatch. It read as follows:
“Two O’CLOCK P.M.
“DEAR GENERAL: Col. Bland has this moment sent me word that the enemy are in the rear of my right and coming down. They are, he says, about two brigades of them. He also says he saw a dust, back in the country, for about an hour.
“I am, &c,
“JOHN SULLIVAN.”
Inclosed in this note was one addressed to Gen. Sullivan, as follows:
“A QUARTER-PAST 1 O’CLOCK.
“SIR, I have discovered a party of the enemy on the height, just on the right of the two widow Davis’, who live close together on the road called the Forks road, about one-half mile to the right of the meeting-house. There is a higher hill on their front.
“THEODORE BLAND.”
By this time Washington knew that Gen. Sullivan, a brave and patriotic officer, had permitted Howe once more to play with success the stratagem which had given him victory on Long Island, and for the like reason, Sullivan’s neglect to make a proper reconnoissance. It was a brilliant but dangerous movement of the English commander, separating his army into two divisions, seventeen miles asunder; and had not the second dispatch been sent by Sullivan, declaring on Maj. Spear’s assertion, that Cornwallis’ division had not moved northward in the manner reported by Col. Ross, the attack determined on by Washington could have been made on Knyphausen’s division in overwhelming numbers, and in all likelihood would have been wholly successful. Never in all his military career did Washington display greater capacity as a commander, than when he had decided to recross the Brandywine and engage the Hessian general. No wonder was it then that the American chieftain ever after disliked to discuss the strategic movements of that day.
Gen. Washington, knowing that his presence was necessary at the point menaced, was anxious to reach that part of the field as soon as possible, and desired to go thither by the shortest way. To that end an elderly man of the neighborhood, Joseph Brown, who was well acquainted with the locality, was found and asked to act as guide. The latter was loath to undertake this duty, and only consented to do so when the request assumed such a form that it could not with safety be refused. One of the general’s staff, who rode a fine horse, dismounted, Brown was lifted into the saddle, and the party started in the most direct route for Birmingham Meeting-House. The mettlesome beast the guide rode cleared the fences as they dashed across the fields, the officers following at his heels. So great was Washington’s anxiety that he constantly kept repeating the command, “Push along, old man; push along, old man.” Brown subsequently, in relating the incidents of this wild scamper across the country, stated that when they were about half a mile west of Dilworthtown, the bullets were flying so thickly that, as the noise of battle was now a sufficient guide to the American officers, and no notice was taken of him, he, unobserved, dismounted and stole away.
Cornwallis, accompanied by the commander-in-chief, Sir William Howe, had marched his column from five o’clock in the morning through the woods that skirted almost his entire route on the west bank of the Brandywine. During the first four hours a heavy fog clung to the earth, and a trying march it was that sultry day, with the dust rising in clouds under the feet of a moving army and the wheels of the parks of artillery and trains of baggage-wagons. It was past the midday hour when the British column reached the west branch of the creek at Trimble’s, and it was here, while making directly for Jefferies’ Ford, that Cols. Cheyney and Hannum watched it on the march, as heretofore related.
On the west side of Jefferies’ Ford Emmor Jefferies owned a fine farm, the home of his ancestors, and from his father’s ownership of the real estate on both sides of the branch the crossing had received its name, Jefferies’ Ford. When the British army first landed at Elk and moved in the direction of Wilmington, a number of the storekeepers, as well as other residents of that town, sent their goods to Chester County, near the forks of the Brandywine, whose peaceful quiet at that time it was supposed the march of armies never would disturb. In the house of Emmor Jefferies, who leaned somewhat to the royal side, it was thought goods could be safely kept. But when the British soldiers learned that in his cellar a large quantity of liquors were stored, the thirsty, hungry men rolled out the barrels and casks, knocked in the heads, and drank freely, without asking the approval of the reputed owner. Nor was that all. Emmor Jefferies was himself pressed into service by Sir William Howe as a guide.
It was not one o’clock when the vanguard of the British army passed the ford and pressed onward towards Osborne’s Hill, near Sullivan’s right. Almost half a century ago Joseph Townsend (who, as a young man of twenty-one, was a witness of much appertaining to the battle) published his recollections of that day. He was attending that Thursday morning a mid-week meeting of Friends in the wheelwright-shop at Sconnelltown, for Gen. Washington had taken the Birmingham meeting-house as a hospital for his sick and wounded soldiers, even before he moved his army to Chad’s Ford, and hearing a disturbance outside, the meeting was brought to a close. While endeavoring to quiet several of the women of the neighborhood, who were alarmed at the approach of the British troops, Townsend relates: “Our eyes were caught, on a sudden, by the appearance of the army coming out of the woods into the field belonging to Emmor Jefferies, on the west side of the creek, above the fording-place. In a few minutes the fields were literally covered over with them, and they were hastening towards us. Their arms and bayonets, being raised, shone bright as silver, there being a clear sky and the day exceedingly warm.” This eye-witness records how “the space occupied by the main and flanking parties (of the British army) was near half a mile wide;” that Cornwallis “on horseback appeared very tall and sat very erect. His rich scarlet clothing, loaded with gold lace, epaulets, etc., occasioned him to make a brilliant and martial appearance, and that most of all the officers who conversed with us were men of the first rank, and were rather stout, portly men, well dressed, and of genteel appearance, and did not look as if they had ever been exposed to any hardship; their skins were as white and delicate as is customary for females brought up in large cities or towns.”
The entire column of British troops had crossed Jefferies’ Ford by two o’clock, its advance having reached the vicinity of Osborne’s Hill, and in half an hour thereafter the whole body of men halted to refresh themselves, for they had not eaten since the early morning, and had marched about seventeen miles almost without a halt. Many of the soldiers on that weary tramp had fallen out of ranks, and exhausted remained along the road.(9*)
When Washington first learned that the lost column of Cornwallis had been found, unfortunately for the Continentals in such a position that the inferior American force in numbers, in discipline, and arms would have to fight at great disadvantage, or, as Capt. Montressor states it, “were instantly obliged to divide their army, leaving part to oppose our right,” Gen. Sullivan was ordered to bring his division to bear upon the British, and this compelled a forward movement of the whole right wing up the Brandywine. The American troops formed in a strong position above Birmingham meeting-house on a hill about a mile and a half removed from the British column, the ground falling gradually for more than half a mile in their immediate front “a natural glacis,” and a thick woods covered their rear. As the divisions of Gens. Stirling and Stephens formed, Lord Cornwallis, on horseback, Sir William Howe and his generals gathered about him, sat watching the American officers arrange their line of battle, and as his glass showed him the disposition they were making, his eminent military abilities, never excelled in England’s history during the last three hundred years, except by Marlborough, compelled him to pay this tribute to their merit, “The damned rebels form well!”
Cornwallis, under the immediate supervision of Sir William Howe, formed his battle array in three lines. The Guards were on the right of the advance, the First British Grenadiers to the left, the centre of the latter organization, supported by the Hessian Grenadiers, formed in a second line. “To the left of the Second Grenadiers, who held the centre, were two battalions of light infantry, with the Hessian and Anspach Chasseurs, supported by the fourth brigade, for a second line.” The third brigade, consisting of the Fifteenth, Forty-fourth, and Seventeenth Regiments, was held in reserve, and was not called into action during the day. Both flanks of the British army were covered by very thick woods, and the artillery was advantageously disposed so that its fire might most seriously affect the American lines, and sustain the advance in its attack on the Continental troops.
Gen. Sullivan seems to have questioned his own judgment and hesitated to decide what was best to be done, when the true situation of the two armies, was clearly presented to his mind. He had command of the entire right wing, hence the command of his immediate division devolved on Gen. DeBorre, his brigadier, a French officer of thirty-five years’ experience in service, but a martinet, insisting on every little punctilio of military etiquette, even where such trifling matters might jeopardize the whole army. Hence when the latter marched his division to form, because it had laid along the Brandywine, fronting across, he insisted on moving his command on the right of Stephens and Stirling, which determination on his part made disorder in the division and occasioned an interval in the American line of over half a mile. It should be remembered that Stirling and Stephens as soon as they learned that the enemy were on their flank moved promptly, without waiting for orders from Sullivan, to the nearest good position from which they could resist the advancing British columns. Sullivan, thereupon leaving his old division in disorder, rode forward to where the other general officers were, and it was their unanimous opinion, he tells us in his report, “that his division should be brought on to join the other and the whole should incline further to the right to prevent our being out-flanked.” Even the graphic account of the battle furnished by Gen. Sullivan shows that he lost that self-control which in Gens. Greene and Washington showed conspicuously during that afternoon of disaster to the American arms.
“At half-past two,” he says, “I received orders to march with my division to join with and take command of that and two others to oppose the enemy who were coming down on the right flank of our army. I neither knew where the enemy were, or what route the other divisions were to take, and of course could not determine where I should form a junction with them. I began my march in a few minutes after I received my orders, and had not marched a mile when I met Col. Hazen with his regiment, which had been stationed at a ford three miles above me, who informed me that I might depend that the principal part of the British army was there, although I knew the report sent to headquarters made them but two brigades. As I knew Col. Hazen to be an old officer, and a good judge of numbers, I gave credence to his report in preference to the intelligence before received. While I was conversing with Col. Hazen and our troops still on the march, the enemy headed us in the road about forty rods from our advance guard. I then found it necessary to turn off to the right to form, and so got nearer to the other divisions, which I at that moment discovered both in the rear and to the right of the place I was then at. I ordered Col. Hazen’s regiment to pass a hollow way, file off to the right, and face to cover the artillery. The enemy, seeing this, did not pass on, but gave me time to form my division on an advantageous height in a line with the other divisions, about almost a half mile to the left.”
This gap of half a mile must be closed, and while this was being attempted at about half-past three o’clock,(10*) the English commander hurled his well-disciplined soldiers full at the unformed Americans’ right wing, and a half-hour previous to this assault the British guns had opened fire.(11*) The distance separating the combatants was about a mile and a half, the assaulting party being compelled to cross a valley and ascend a hill slope before they came to close quarters with their enemy.
According to Joseph Townsend, an advance company of Hessians, when they reached “the street-road were fired upon by a company of the Americans who were stationed in the orchard north of Samuel Jones’ brick dwelling-house,” and the mercenaries scrambled up the bank of the road alongside the orchard, and resting their muskets on the upper rails, discharged them at the small body of Continentals. This was merely an episode in the engagement, and was one of many similar incidents alluded to by Capt. Montressor, in the remark, “Some skirmishing began in the valley in which the enemy was drove.”(12*) The American artillery Sullivan had placed in the centre of the line, where he had taken his position, and he ordered the guns discharged as quickly as possible to stop the progress of the British and to give the brigade under DeBorre time to form, for that body had been thrown “into the worst kind of confusion” before the assaulting party was upon them, and although Sullivan sent four of his aids, two of whom were killed in the effort to adjust the disorganized division, and had gone himself to rally the men who had fallen out of ranks, he succeeded only in partly forming there a line of battle.
Conscious that the artillery on the centre commanded both the right and left of the line, he returned to that point, determining to hold the position as long as possible, knowing that if it was carried “it would bring on a total rout, and make a retreat very difficult.” The right, however, was demoralized, and though some of the troops in that division were rallied and made a show of resistance, the greater portion could not “be brought to do anything but fly.” In front of the American left was a plowed field, and the attack at this point was made by the Guards, the First British Grenadiers, and Hessian Grenadiers; and although it was claimed by Gen. Howe that, notwithstanding a heavy fire of artillery and musketry, his troops pushed the rebels at once from the position they had taken, the fact is that for nearly an hour the struggle for the possession of the summit was continued, and although five times did the British soldiers drive the American troops from the hill, as often was it retaken. The regiments of Drayton, Ogden, and Hazen’s “Congress’ Own” stood firm on the left, while the resistance of Stirling and Stephens was highly creditable, the main defense being made by the centre, where Sullivan exhibited great personal courage, and doubtless by his example animated his men in their contest with an overwhelming force. At length the left wing broke and fled, pursued by the Guards and Grenadiers into a thick woods, whence the larger part of the American troops escaped, while the English were “entangled, and were no further engaged during the day.” The centre still remained firm; and here Gen. Conway, by the good conduct of his brigade, gained considerable reputation for himself (which he subsequently tarnished at Valley Forge), the Twelfth Pennsylvania, under his command, suffering very heavy loss. Cornwallis now turned the whole fire of his artillery on the small body of men who still stood in line, and they were soon compelled to retire, a movement which was effected with some degree of steadiness and an occasional resumption of the offensive, since they took with them their artillery and baggage.
The noise of heavy ordnance almost due north from Chad’s Ford apprised Knyphausen that Gen. Howe had succeeded in turning the right wing of Washington’s army, and, although the musketry firing could be distinctly heard, it was not until an hour before the sun’s setting that the Hessian commander made the attempt to cross at the ford.(13*) It is doubtful whether Wayne had more than a thousand men who before that day had been under fire to resist the passage of the creek by the enemy. Knyphausen, taking advantage of the smoke from his own and the American cannon, for they had been firing for some time, marched his column, under the immediate command of Maj. Gen. Grant, into the stream, and, notwithstanding Proctor’s guns and the artillery with Wayne, plowed gaps in the advancing ranks, so that for days afterwards “the farmers were fishing dead bodies from the water,”(14*) the crossing was made, and the redoubt captured. “Mad Anthony” knew that a retreat was inevitable, but his pugnacious nature, and that of the Pennsylvania line in his command, was loath to retire before an enemy, but the appearance of a large body of English troops from Cornwallis’ division, on his right, compelled a hasty and disorderly retreat, in which he and Maxwell were compelled to abandon the greater part of their artillery and stores. The handsome black horse which Col. Proctor rode that day was shot from under him, but subsequently the State of Pennsylvania, in consideration of his bravery on that occasion, remunerated him for the loss he had sustained. The Pennsylvania militia, under Gen. Armstrong, which had taken no active part in the battle, fled with the rest of the American soldiers, and joined the demoralized body, which then almost choked the Concord road with a struggling mass of panic-stricken men hastening wildly in the direction of Chester.
Washington, when he received positive information that the British left wing had made its circuitous march from Kennett Square to Jefferies’ Ford, the first part of the route under the guidance of Joseph Parker, whom Sir William Howe had compelled to point out the most direct road to Trimble’s, and from Jefferies’ Ford by Emmor Jefferies, and had already turned Sullivan’s flank, started across the country for the scene of conflict, as already mentioned. He had immediately commanded Greene’s division, consisting of Weedon’s and Muhlenberg’s brigade, to advance to the support of the right wing. With the promptitude ever noticeable in Greene’s movements, the latter immediately put his division in motion. Weedon’s brigade was on the advance, and at trail arms, the men, guided by the noise of battle, and knowing that Sullivan could have no line of retreat “but towards Dilworthtown, as the British right wing had outflanked it to the left, and intervened between it and Chad’s Ford,” double-quicked nearly to Dilworthtown, four miles in forty-five minutes, and then by a wheel to the left of a half-mile, he was enabled to occupy a position where, opening his ranks, he let the retreating, discomfited battalions pass through while he held the pursuing British in check and saved the American artillery.
Previous, however, to Greene’s coming to their relief, a number of Americans were induced to make a stand, and rallied on a height to the north of Dilworthtown, where, under the personal command of Washington, who had reached the field, accompanied by Lafayette, the latter for the first time under fire in America, a stout resistance was made. It was here that the marquis was wounded. He stated that a part of the American line had broken, while the rest still held its ground; and to show the troops that he “had no better chance of flight” than they, he ordered his horse to the rear, and dismounted, he was endeavoring to rally the disorganized column, when he was struck in the left foot by a musket-ball, which “went through and through.” The fact that Lafayette was wounded was immediately carried to Washington, “with the usual exaggerations in such cases.” The surgeon endeavored to dress the injured foot on the battle-field, but the firing was so sharp that the attempt was abandoned, and the young Frenchman mounted his horse and galloped to Chester, where, becoming faint from loss of blood, he was “carried into a house and laid on a table, where my (his) wound received its first dressing.”(15*) Before he permitted his injuries to be cared for, Lafayette stationed a guard at the old decayed draw-bridge at Chester Creek (the site of the present Third Street bridge) to arrest stragglers and return them to their regiments. The Baron St. Ovary, who was aiding Lafayette in the endeavor to rally the American soldiers, was not so fortunate as the marquis, for he was captured by the English, and to be consigned to the tender mercies of that fiend, William Cunningham, provost-marshal of the royal army, was certainly less to be desired than a wound which healed kindly in two months.
The enemy meanwhile pressed the Americans backward until Weedon’s brigade came in sight, and Sullivan joining him with some of his men, the battle continued until many of the fugitives had succeeded in effecting their retreat. At a place then called Dilworth’s Path, now known as Sandy Hollow, the American army made its final stand. It is said by Irving that Washington, when riding in the neighborhood previous to the battle, had called Greene’s attention to that locality, suggesting that if the army should be driven from Chad’s Ford there was a point well calculated for a secondary position, and here Greene was overtaken by Col. Pinckney, an aid of the commander-in-chief, ordering him to occupy that place. Be that as it may, Greene formed there; Weedon’s brigade, drawn up in the narrow defile, flanked on either side by woods, and commanding the road, while Greene, with Muhlenberg’s – the fighting parson—brigade formed on the road on the right. The English troops, flushed with success, for it is idle to say they were not the victors of the day, came on, and were surprised at the unexpected resistance they encountered here. Charge after charge did they make, but were repeatedly driven back. Gen. Howe states, “Just at dark the infantry, Second Grenadiers, and fourth brigade had a brief action beyond Dilworth, between the two roads which run from Dilworth to Chester.” Capt. Montressor tells us that here the heaviest fire during the battle for the time was poured on the British soldiers. Indeed, he records, “Late in the evening, when the action was near concluded, a very heavy fire was received by our grenadiers from six thousand rebels, Washington’s rear-guard, when Col. Monckton requested me to ride through it to Brig.-Gen. Agnew’s brigade and his (4) twelve-pounders, which I did in time enough to support them; and by my firing the (4) twelve-pounders routed the enemy.”(16*) The latter statement is not accurate, for Weedon, after holding his position until the demoralized troops had retreated down the Wilmington road to the Concord road, fell back in good order on Greene, and gradually the whole division drew off; showing their fangs to their enemy, who did not pursue the retiring Continentals. It is even stated that many of the American officers were so enraged at the result of the conflict that they demanded to be led immediately against the enemy, but Washington shook his head, replying, “Our only recourse is to retreat.” Greene, whose blood was up from the conflict and defeat, asked how far they must retreat? “Over every hill and across every river in America if I order you,” was the stern reply.(17*)
The American troops, considering the circumstances, fought well. Particularly was this true of the Twelfth Pennsylvania, commanded by Col. Walter Stewart said to have been the handsomest man in the Continental service – of Conway’s brigade; of the Fifth Virginians, Woodford’s brigade, commanded by Col. John Marshall, afterwards the great chief justice of the United States; and the Tenth Virginia, under Col. Stevens, in Weedon’s brigade. The First, Third, and Sixth Maryland Regiments, and the First Delaware, under Gen. Smallwood, acquitted themselves with marked bravery, while the Second, Fourth, and Seventh Delaware and German Regiments, four companies recruited in Pennsylvania, and the like number in Maryland, were the first to give way, and retired in disorder from the field. This was largely due to the fact that Gen. DeBorre did not possess the confidence of his troops. The Eighth Pennsylvania, Col. Bayard, suffered greatly, and in the action Bayard was struck down by a cannon-ball, which broke the barrel of a rifle on the shoulder of Sergt. Wyatt, as well as the sergeant’s shoulder, and then struck Bayard on the head and shoulder, “turning him over on the ground for nearly two rods,” when Lieut. Patterson helped the colonel to his feet, who, the latter states, “was frantic” at his unceremonious treatment. The Eleventh Pennsylvania lost so heavily that it was subsequently consolidated with the Tenth. Capt. Thomas Butler, of the Third Pennsylvania, for rallying a detachment of retreating troops, was on the field publicly thanked by Washington. Capt. Louis de Fleury conducted himself with such gallantry that Congress presented him with a horse to substitute his own, which was killed in the battle, and Gen. Sullivan’s horse, “the best in America,” was shot under him in the engagement. Count Casimir Pulaski, the Polish nobleman, highly distinguished himself that day, when, as a volunteer in the American Light-Horse, he rode within pistol-shot of the British lines to reconnoitre. This action and his conspicuous bravery won him troops of friends, so that when he was appointed brigadier-general, with a command of cavalry, it met fully, the approval of public opinion.
The actual loss of the American forces can only be approximated, since Gen. Washington never made a detailed report of this battle. The British claimed the loss was about a thousand killed and wounded and five hundred prisoners, together with nine “Branfield pieces, one more of a composition,(18*) and one brass Howitzer, with several ammunition wagons.”(19*) Howe reported his own loss as only five hundred and seventy-eight killed and wounded, including officers, a statement that is not probably correct,(20*) while Capt. Montressor tells us that the British troops had sixty killed and three hundred wounded. Certain it is that the English not continuing the pursuit is some evidence that they were in no condition to do so. Thomas Paine declared that Brandywine, “excepting the enemy keeping the ground, may be deemed a drawn battle,” and that as Washington had collected his army at Chester, “the enemy’s not moving towards him next day must be attributed to the disability they sustained and the burthen of their wounded.” The dead of both armies, it should be remembered, were left on the field and had to be burned, while the number of wounded was so great, that on the Sunday following the battle (September 14th) Drs. Rush, Leiper, Latimer, Way, and Coates, with Mr. Willet, a mate in the hospital, with their attendants, who had been sent by Washington, arrived at headquarters of the British army, or, as Capt. Montressor records the incident, came “to attend the wounded Rebels left scattered in the Houses about the field of Battle unattended by their Surgeons until now.”
To return to the army, which was drifting down the road to Chester in a confused mass. The artillery saved from the enemy’s clutches jolted and surged along as rapidly as the tired horses could be made to go under the goading whip, while the baggage-wagons crowded to the front amid the oaths of the teamsters and the panic-stricken men who were forced to make room for the vehicles to pass. Fortunately the early evening was still and clear, and the moon looked down on the defeated, demoralized men, who tiring at length of their senseless flight, the disorder in a measure ceased as the weary journeying came near an end, so that the guard at Chester bridge, placed there by Lafayette, succeeded in gathering the men into something like company and regimental order without much difficulty. Greene’s division, as well as many of the men from other commands, preserved a military organization, and they marched from the field in columns becoming the brave soldiers they had proved themselves to be on the heights of Brandywine.
In Chester the noise of the distant cannonading could be distinctly heard, like far-away mutterings of thunder, and after the battle had been lost, the bearers of ill tidings traveled fast with their unwelcome intelligence. Before dusk the first of the discomfited American forces began to straggle in, spreading all kind of rumors regarding the results of the contest, and the ancient borough was never so aroused. In Philadelphia all was excitement. Paine states that he was preparing dispatches for Franklin “when the report of cannon at Brandywine interrupted my (his) proceedings.”(22*)
Far into the night the American army kept marching into Chester, and it is related that after the moon had set Col. Cropper, then a captain in the Ninth Virginia Infantry, a part of Greene’s command covering the retreat, because of the darkness, and to prevent his men being crowded off the approaches to the bridge at the creek, fastened his handkerchief on a ramrod, and stood there holding it aloft as a signal until his command had filed by.
Hon. William Darlington has recorded the escape of Col. Samuel Smith, of Maryland, from the field, as related to him by the old veteran, who subsequently defended Fort Mifflin so determinedly. Having become separated from his command in the retreat, and, apprehensive of falling into the hands of the enemy, the colonel rode to the house of a Quaker farmer, whom he desired forthwith to conduct him by a safe route to Chester. The latter protested against the undertaking, but Col. Smith drew a pistol, stating that if he did not get his horse at once and do as he asked, he was a dead man. The Quaker, in alarm, exclaiming, “What a dreadful man thou art!” did as he was told. “Now,” said Col. Smith, “I have not entire confidence in your fidelity, but I tell you explicitly that if you do not conduct me clear of the enemy, the moment I discover your treachery I will blow your brains out.” The terrified farmer thereupon exclaimed, “Why, thou art the most desperate man I ever did see.” However, he brought the colonel safely to Chester and was rewarded for his services. At midnight Washington addressed a letter to Congress, apprising that body of the loss of the battle. The missive is dated Chester, and traditionally in the Kerlin family, it is said, he wrote the letter at the Washington House, on Market Street. It was published by the order of Congress, and is as follows:
“CHESTER, September 11th, 1777.
“Twelve o’clock at night.
“Sir: I am sorry to inform you that in this day’s engagement, we have been obliged to leave the enemy masters of the field. Unfortunately the Intelligence received of the Enemy’s advancing up the Brandywine and crossing at a ford about six miles above us, was uncertain and contradictory, notwithstanding all my plans to get the best. This prevented my making a disposition adequate to the force with which the enemy attacked us on our right; in consequence of which, the troops first engaged were obliged to retire, before they could be reinforced. In the midst of the attack on the right, that body of the enemy that remained on the other side of Chad’s ford, crossed and attacked the division there under the command of General Wayne, and the light troop under General Maxwell; who after a severe conflict, also retired. The militia under the command of General Armstrong, being posted at a ford about two miles below Chad’s, had no opportunity of engaging.
“But though we fought under many disadvantages, and were from the cause above mentioned, obliged to retire, yet our loss of men is not, I am persuaded, very considerable; I believe much less than the enemy’s. We have also lost seven or eight pieces of cannon according to the best information I can at present obtain. The baggage having been previously moved off all is secure; saving the men’s blankets, which at their backs, many of them doubtless are lost.
“I have directed all the troops to assemble behind Chester, where they are now arranging for the night. Notwithstanding the misfortunes of the day I am happy to find the troops in good spirits, and I hope another time we shall compensate for the losses now sustained.
“The Marquis La Fayette was wounded in the leg, and General Woolford in the hand. Divers other officers were wounded and some slain, but the numbers of either cannot be ascertained.
“G. WASHINGTON.
“P.S. It has not been in my power to send you earlier intelligence; the present being the first leisure moment I have had since the engagement.”
The American army assembled to the east of Chester along the Queen’s Highway, and Washington, after dispatching this letter, went to the present Leiperville, where, still standing on the north of the road, is the old stone dwelling, then the home of John McIlvain, in which the chief of that retreating army passed the night after the ill-starred battle of Brandywine.
Gen. Howe demonstrated in this battle his ability to command armies successfully, and the skill with which he manoeuvred his troops in a country of hill and vale, wood and thicket, showed the accomplished, scientific soldier. The rapidity with which Washington brought order out of disorder was shown when the American troops marched through Darby to Philadelphia, on September 12th, in the soldierly bearing of that part of the army which the day before had fled from the field a panic-stricken mob. Taking all things into consideration, never was Washington’s wonderful command of men and extraordinary capacity to recover from disaster more exhibited than at this period of our nation’s history, and that in this emergency the whole country turned to him as its foremost man is evidenced in that Congress, while the thunder of the cannons of Brandywine was yet heard in Philadelphia, clothed the commander-in-chief with almost dictatorial power for two months.
* Irving’s “Life of Washington,” vol. iii. p. 213.
** Journal of Capt. John Montressor, Penna. Mag. of History, vol. v. p. 15.
*** “Brandywine, 1777,” by Howard M. Jenkins, in Lippincott’s Magazine for September, 1877.
(4*) Lippincott’s Magazine for September, 1877: “Brandywine, 1777,” by Howard M. Jenkins.
(5*) Carrington’s “Battles of the American Revolution.”
(6*) Futhey and Cope’s “History of Chester County,” p. 586.
(7*) Persifor Frazer was lieutenant-colonel of the Fifth Pennsylvania Line, recruited in Chester County. he was born in Newtown township, and was a partner in the noted Sarum Iron-Works, in Thornbury.
(8*) Dr. William Darlington’s sketch of Thomas Cheyney in Notae Cestrienses. Newspaper clippings in Library of Historical Society of Pennsylvania.
(9*) “Journal of Capt. Montressor,” Penna. Mag. of History, vol. V. p. 416.
(10*) At half-past three the whole moved toward the enemy in three columns. Journal of Capt. Montressor, Penna. Mag. of Hist., vol. v. p. 416.
(11*) Penna. Archives, 2d series, vol. x. p. 316.
(12*) Penna. Mag. of History, vol. v. p. 416.
(13*) Penna. Archives, 2d series, vol. x. p. 316..
(14*) Mr. Auge’s statement, published in Futhey and Cope’s “History of
Chester County,” p. 81.
(15*) Poulson’s Advertiser, Philadelphia, Feb. 25, 1825.
(16*) “Evelyns in America,” by Gideon D. Scull, Oxford, England, 1881 (privately printed), p. 266.
(17*) Headley’s “Life of Washington,” p. 256.
(18*) “We took ten pieces of cannon and a howitzer; eight were brass, the other two of iron of a new construction.” Materials for History, by Frank Moore, quoted in Penna. Mag. of History, vol. 1. page 294, note. “In the war of the Revolution a singular cannon was made by a person who afterwards lived in the village (Mount Holly, N.J.). It was constructed of wrought-iron staves, hooped like a barrel, with bands of the same material, excepting there were four layers of staves breaking joint, all of which were firmly bound together, and then bored and breached like other cannon. . . . William Denning (he died in the ninety-fourth year of his age) was an artificer in the army of the Revolution. He it was who, in the day of his country’s need, made the only successful attempt ever made in the world to manufacture wrought-iron cannon, one of which he completed in Middlesex, Pa., and commenced another and larger one at Mount Holly, but could get no one to assist him who could stand the heat, which is said to have been so severe as to melt the lead buttons on his coat. The unfinished piece is now (1844) in the Philadelphia Arsenal. The one completed was taken by the British at the battle of Brandywine, and is now in the tower of London. The British offered a stated annuity and a large sum to the person who would instruct them in the manufacture of that article, but the patriotic blacksmith preferred obscurity and poverty in his own beloved country, though the country for which he had done so much kept her purse closed from the veteran soldier until near the period of his decease.” Barber and Howe’s Historical Collections of New Jersey, pp. 113—114.
(19*) Penna. Mag. of History, vol. vi. p. 297.
(20*) In the Penna. Mag. of Hist., vol. iv. page 121, is given what purports to be a memorandum of the British forces at the battle of Brandywine, and the loss sustained by the several divisions. The document was, it is stated, found in one of the British officers’ marquet, at Germantown, Oct. 4, 1777, which, after being in possession of Col. Thomas Forrest, subsequently came to John F. Watson, the annalist. The total loss as given in the memorandum is nineteen hundred and seventy-six. In Headley’s Life of Washington, page 258, is published a paper found among those belonging to Gen. James Clinton, and in his handwriting, indorsed, “Taken from the enemy’s Ledgers, which fell into the hands of General Washington’s army at the action of Germantown.” An examination of the two statements shows that the one is a copy of the other, although there is a difference of ten in the grand total, the latter being nineteen hundred and eighty-six. This occurs in the loss of the First Hessians at the Upper Ford, under Cornwallis, the Forrest memorandum making it sixty, while that of Clinton’s places it at seventy. The two papers differ somewhat in designating the numerals of the British regiments. The Clinton paper is probably the most accurate.
(21*) Paine’s letter to Franklin, Penna. Mag. of History, vol. ii. p. 283.
(22*) Penna. Mag. of Hist., vol. ii. p. 283. Irving (Life of Washington, vol. iii. p. 222) thus describes the excitement in Philadelphia: “The scene of this battle, which decided the fate of Philadelphia, was within six and twenty miles of that city, and each discharge of cannon could be heard there. The two parties of the inhabitants, Whig and Tory, were to be seen in groups in the squares and public places, awaiting the event in anxious silence. At length a courier arrived. His tidings spread consternation among the friends of liberty. Many left their homes; entire families abandoned everything in terror and despair and took refuge in the mountains.”
Source: Page(s) 55-65, History of Delaware County, Pennsylvania, by Henry Graham Ashmead, Philadelphia: L.H. Everts & Co. 1884
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