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THE CAMP-FIRE AT WHITE PLAINS
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The continental troops encamped at White Plains, soon after the battle of Monmouth.
There they remained till very late in November, when the severity of the weather forced them
to go into winter quarters at Middle Brook, in Jersey. White Plains is the place where Washington
encamped in October of 1776, after the evacuation of New York. The camp was on elevated ground,
defended in front by two lines of entrenchments, nearly parallel to each other,
and between four and five hundred yards apart. The right wing rested on the Bronx, which, by making a short bend,
encompassed the flank and part of the rear. The left wing reached to a pond, or small lake, of some extent,
by which it was effectually secured. Here the army was encamped from an early day in July to a late one in autumn of the year 1778.
It was about the middle of November. The night was cold and dark; and there was a prospect of snow. The soldiers were in their tents, and no sound disturbed the hovering stillness of the time, save the howling of the frost-burdened wind, and the slow, steady pacing of the sentinels. The severity of the weather visited the men while still occupying their canvas tents, and they were forced to endure it as well as they could. Fires were blazing in every tent, but they could not more than keep the men from freezing. Under one of these uncomfortable coverings four men were sitting round the fire, so close as to be very nearly scorched by it; but close as they could get, every time the wind would shake the tent in its sweeping through the encampment, a shudder would follow from the men; and they would try to get closer still to the fire. The blaze made the tent look cheerful, however, whether it felt so or not. "Luke," said one of the men, "if it's going to be as cold as this all night, there's no sleep for us, that's certain." "Oh! I don't care about the sleep so much; it's so cold it makes one shiver all over when setting as close on to the fire as you can get," replied Luke. "Ugh!" said an individual, known by the name of Zephaniah, "It's cold enough to freeze a feller into stone; or a pound of butter into a brickbat." "Well, I care about sleeping," said the man who had spoken first, "I had a very little bit of a nap last night." "You're a sleep concern, anyhow. You're almost asleep when you're on duty," said another of the men who had not yet spoken. "I can't help my nature, Jim," replied the lover of Morpheus, "but the last part of your assertion is as far from the truth as you generally are." "Keep yourself moving, Dick," said Luke, "there's nothing like actin' for getting clear of drowsiness. I've seen men use themselves to going without sleep for three or four days at a time, and not feel any the worse for it; but you're always moping round the fire. I don't wonder you're sleepy." "There's not much danger of my gon' to sleep tonight, anyhow," said Dick, "so if either of you have got a yarn to tell, or a song to sing, you can go on with it. Luke, you're as good as any body I know, for doin' either." "Yes," said Zephaniah, "he's got a voice like a night'gale, and can talk as fast and as good as a minister on a Sunday mornin'. So, drive on Luke." "Hold on," said Luke. "you must do a little yourselves. You mustn't expect me to do all the labor. Jim, there, can sing. Let him sing a song first, and then I'll go on with my story." "What shall I sing?" asked Jim. "Oh, anything, so it's a song. 'Rule Columbia,' 'Liberty Tree,' or 'The American Star.' Or, if you don't know any of them, anything else will do," said Luke. "Well," said Jim, "I'll try 'Liberty Tree'; that's a favorite song of mine." "And of mine, too," said Zephaniah." Clear your pipe, and try to do it as it ought to be done." Jim was a little hoarse from cold, but had a good strong, musical voice. The song he sang was a great favorite in those days, and is still occasionally sung. It was written by Thomas Paine, the author of the 'Rights of Man," in 1775. It is as follows: In a chariot of light from the regions of day,"That's a song I allers liked," said Zephaniah, when Jim had concluded. "The words of the song are excellent," said Luke. "They breathe the pure spirit of patriotism. We endure a good deal in defense of 'our Liberty Tree." "Yes," said Zephaniah, "I wish it was big and strong enough to take care of itself." "Ah!" said Luke, "its roots will have to strike deep in the soil, land it will have to grow to be a large trunk, to make it strong enough to take care of itself. It's a sort of tree that needs a good deal of attention. The worms attack it, and try to destroy it, and the winds do their best to level it with the ground." "I hope we'll be able to take care of it," said Jim. "Amen," added Luke. "But you promised to tell us some sort of a story, Luke, when Jim sang the song. Let's have it, and make it as long as you can, or we'll run out of talk," said dick. "Never fear, Dick," said Zephaniah, "Luke's a mine that never fails to yield somethin', whether it's real gold or not. But go on, Luke." "Well, men, I don't care about inventing any stories to amuse you, jut now. I'll tell you something real. I was with the army of General Gates that captured Burgoyne, and, if you're willing, that shall be the subject of my narrative. You've heard, I suppose, all the principal movements that brought about the surrender, and that there was two battles fought, and so on; but I think I can amuse you by telling you about some incidents that came under my knowledge while I was there, either by seeing or hearing of them," said Luke. "That's a part of this war that I know least about," said Zephaniah. "If you can give us an inkling of how things went on thee, you'll do us a favor." "You mustn't expect me to give you all the details of everything that occurred at Saratoga. All I shall do will be to give you an idea to whom we are most indebted for the victory, and how the men acted, and son," said Luke. "Enough said," struck in Dick; "go on." "Well, I was with Livingston's brigade," began Luke. "James Livingston's it was, not Henry's. On the 19th of September, the day of the first battle, our regiment, with Learned's brigade, and three Massachusetts regiments, formed the center of the army, and our position was on a high plain. Our commander, General Gates, had determined to maintain a defensive position, and we accordingly waited for the approach of the enemy. The morning was clear and calm, and everything was white with hoar-frost. We were so near the British that we could hear their reveille; and we could see, through the openings in the wood, the glitter of bayonets and sabres, and scarlet uniforms moving about. About ten o'clock we knew that the whole British force was in motion, yet we were still in our position on the plain. "About noon, at the suggestion of General Arnold, Morgan's light horse, and Dearborn's light infantry, were sent out, and they made a vigorous attack on the Canadians and Indians who swarmed upon the hills. The furious charge of Morgan broke the enemy; but his men became scattered in the wood, and a reinforcement of the British coming up, drove them back in their turn. I could see only a part of this, from where I was standing; but I was told the rest, and I'll tell it to you as if I saw it myself. Well, as I said, the detachment of Morgan was broken, and a captain, a lieutenant, and some privates, fell into the hands of the British. For a moment, Morgan found himself alone, and he thought his band of sharp-shooters was ruined; but he blew his loud signal-whistle, and his brave boys soon gathered round him. He charged again, and was joined by Dearborn, Cilley, and Scammel." "That's a great band --- them sharp-shooters of Morgan's" said Zephaniah. "I've got a notion of j'inin' 'em, if I can get a change. It's a style o' fightin' I like. Besides, Morgan's one of the never-fails." "Yes," said Luke, "you may well say that; Morgan is a never-fail. You may always depend upon him and his band showing the toughest kind of fighting. He dashes on the foe with such resistless force, too, after the rifles of his men have done their work. But to return to my story. Both parties fought with great bravery; and, in the end, each retired within their lines. General Frazer, who commanded a portion of the right wing of the enemy, then made an attempt to turn our left flank; and Arnold resolved to make a similar attempt on Frazer. He put himself at the head of our division, and attempted to cut off General Frazer from the main army. "We advanced through a dense forest, and over the roughest kind of ground. It appeared that neither party could make out what the manoeuvers of the other were for, till we came upon each other suddenly, on the level ground near Mill Creek, I think they call it. It was a short distance from a cottage. Arnold was at the head of our men, and he fell upon the foe with the fury of a lion. I was n ear him, with the troops in advance, and I don't think I ever saw a man display such fire and such bravery in action. He shouted at the highest pitch of his voice, to cheer us on; and we dashed upon the foe with the force of a hurricane; but the numbers of the enemy were overwhelming, and they kept their ground. "We had to give way for awhile; but Arnold rallied the troops, and we received a reinforcement of four regiments. Then we went to the work again. We pushed them so hard, that they began to give way and to fall into confusion; when General Philips appeared upon the ground, with some artillery, to reinforce the British troops. The victory seemed to be ours, just before his arrival, but then we had to fall back to our line. It was then about three o'clock. The desperate contest ceased for awhile, for both parties wanted breath. I was almost worn out. I had eaten in the van, where the hardest fighting had been done, and I was bespattered with blood; --- not my own, but from my comrades and the troops of the enemy. "I sat down on the ground, to rest a little, before I should be called to the contest again. We were just beyond musket-shot from the enemy; and between us was a thick wood, and a narrow clearing. We kept the deepest silence, and could hear the officers of the enemy give their orders along the lines. They broke the short peace, by opening a hot fire from a large battery; but it did very little damage to us. We didn't answer them, but still kept silence. Then we saw their infantry coming across the open plain, with their steady trend, and we knew they were going to try the bayonet. We kept close behind our entrenchments, till they fired a volley, and came on to the charge, when we sprang upon them like tigers that had been crouching to wait for their prey. "We drove them back across the clearing; and then followed as bloody and as hard-fought a battle as ever these States saw. The enemy were reinforced, and we were obliged to give way; and then we advanced with such force, that they were compelled to fall back; and so it continued for three hours. The way men were maimed by the shot, and mangled by the bayonet, was most horrible. I received a bayonet-wound in the leg; but it didn't prevent me from keeping the field. I knew every man was wanted there. The killed and wounded of both armies were lying together. I helped to take the cannon of the enemy, two or three times; but in the end we had to leave them, having no horses to drag them away. "The battle continued in this manner till dark. Our regiment, with most of the army, retired to our lines; but some of our troops remained on the ground, and skirmished till eleven o'clock at night. I never was so worn down in my life before. I could not sleep, I was so tired." |
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